The Musicians of Bremen: Brothers Grimm Folktale

The Story

The Donkey Leaves the Mill

Once there was a donkey who had worked for many long years.

Day after day he carried heavy grain sacks to the mill. He trudged up steep paths in summer heat and winter rain. He never complained. He simply lowered his head, planted his hooves and did his work.

But time had changed him. His back felt stiff. His legs ached after every trip. Even his breath came harder now. He was still loyal and willing, yet he could not move as quickly as he once had.

His master noticed.

One morning the donkey heard the man mutter, “He’s too old for this now. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

The donkey did not like the sound of that at all. He had served faithfully for years. He had earned kindness, not cruel plans whispered behind his back. So, before the sun rose high, he slipped out of the yard and set off down the road.

As he walked, he tried to think of what to do next.

“At least I still have a strong voice,” he said to himself, giving a thoughtful swish of his tail. “Perhaps I can become a musician in Bremen. Why not? A fine bray can be every bit as grand as a trumpet.”

That idea pleased him very much. So the old donkey lifted his head and kept going, step by steady step, toward the town of Bremen.

A Hound by the Roadside

After a while, the donkey saw a hunting dog lying by the roadside. The poor creature looked tired and sad, with drooping ears and heavy eyes.

“Good day,” said the donkey. “Why do you look so miserable?”

The dog let out a deep sigh. “Because I’m old,” he answered. “I cannot run the way I used to. My nose still knows a trail, but my legs do not follow fast enough. My master says I am useless now. He meant to get rid of me, so I ran away before he could.”

“That was wise,” said the donkey kindly.

“Wise perhaps,” said the dog, “but what am I to do now? An old hound cannot live on sighs.”

The donkey’s ears perked up. “Come with me to Bremen. I plan to become a town musician.”

The dog blinked. “A musician?”

“Certainly,” said the donkey. “I will sing with my grand bray. You can beat time with your bark. Together we will be splendid.”

The dog had not smiled in many days, but now his tail gave a little hopeful thump against the ground.

“Well,” he said, getting to his feet, “I have never made music before. Still, it sounds better than starving by the roadside.”

“That’s the spirit,” said the donkey.

So they set out together like old friends.

The Cat Who Escaped the River

The road wound past fields and hedges and little cottages. Before long, the donkey and the dog came upon a cat sitting by the path. She looked proud and cross. She flicked her tail as if the whole world had offended her.

“What has gone wrong for you, old whiskers?” asked the donkey.

The cat let out a sharp little meow. “What has not gone wrong?” she said. “I am no longer young. My teeth are dull and my paws are not quick enough for chasing mice all day. I would rather sit by the stove and dream in peace, but my mistress wanted more from me than I could give. She decided I should be thrown out.”

The dog gasped. “That is dreadful.”

“It is,” said the cat. “So I slipped away while I still had the chance. Now I have my life, but nowhere to go.”

“Then come with us,” said the donkey. “We are on our way to Bremen to become musicians.”

The cat stared at him. “Musicians?”

“Yes indeed,” said the dog, warming to the idea now. “The donkey will bray, I will bark and you can add your fine voice to the song.”

The cat sat up a little straighter. “I do know something about nighttime music,” she said. “I have yowled at the moon often enough.”

“Perfect,” said the donkey.

The cat licked one paw, brushed it over her ear and rose with great dignity.

“In that case,” she said, “I shall join you.”

And so the three of them walked on together down the road, a strange little band of travelers with no home but a new idea in their hearts.

The Rooster on the Gate

Toward evening they passed a farmyard. On the gate stood a rooster crowing so loudly that the sound rang across the fields.

He was not giving an ordinary morning crow. This was a cry full of fear and sorrow and all the strength left in his chest.

The donkey stopped. “Why are you shouting so wildly?”

The rooster flapped his wings and cried, “Because I still can! Tomorrow is Sunday and the house will be full of guests. The cook has been told to chop off my head tonight and turn me into soup. So I am crowing while I still own my voice.”

The cat’s fur fluffed with alarm. The dog growled softly. Even the donkey stamped one hoof.

“That will never do,” said the donkey. “Come away with us.”

“Come where?” asked the rooster.

“To Bremen,” said the dog. “We are forming a musical group.”

The rooster tilted his bright head. “A musical group?”

“Yes,” said the cat. “And you have an excellent high note.”

The rooster gave a startled laugh. “Well, I would much rather sing than become supper.”

“Then join us,” said the donkey. “We will find happiness together on the road.”

That settled it. The rooster fluttered down from the gate and marched proudly beside them. So now there were four: donkey, dog, cat and rooster, all old, all unwanted and all heading toward Bremen with one bold dream.

Night Falls in the Forest

The road to Bremen was longer than they had hoped.

They walked until the sky turned gold, then orange, then a dusky purple. The fields gave way to a dark forest full of rustling leaves and tall black trunks. Since night had nearly fallen, the animals decided they must stop and rest.

They found a great tree with spreading branches. The donkey lay down at its roots with a sigh of relief. The dog curled close beside him. The cat settled on a low branch and the rooster flew up to a branch above her, where he could watch the woods in every direction.

For a while the forest was still. Then the rooster lifted his head.

“I see a light,” he called softly.

“A light?” said the donkey.

“Yes. Far off through the trees. It looks like a house.”

The dog licked his lips. “A house might mean food.”

“And shelter,” said the cat. “Which would be better than sleeping in this chilly forest.”

The donkey stood at once. “Then let us go there.”

So the four travelers rose and followed the distant gleam. As they moved through the woods, the light grew brighter. Soon they saw a house shining among the trees.

It looked warm and welcoming from outside. Inside, however, things were quite different.

The House in the Woods

Because the donkey was tallest, he crept up to the window and peered in.

“What do you see?” whispered the rooster from behind.

The donkey turned his head. “A table covered with fine food. and sitting around it are robbers, stuffing themselves and laughing.”

The dog groaned. “That food would suit me very well.”

“It would suit all of us,” said the cat.

The rooster ruffled his feathers. “Then how do we get it?”

That was the question.

The four friends huddled together and thought hard. They were hungry and tired, but now they also felt something else. They felt united. Each one alone was old and vulnerable. Together, perhaps, they could be something much stronger.

At last the donkey said, “I have an idea.”

He explained his plan in a whisper. The others listened and nodded.

Then they took their places.

The donkey reared up and put his front hooves on the windowsill. The dog scrambled onto the donkey’s back. The cat leaped onto the dog. Finally the rooster flew up and settled on the cat’s head like a feathery crown.

“Ready?” asked the donkey.

“Ready,” barked the dog.

“Ready,” meowed the cat.

“Ready,” crowed the rooster.

“At my signal,” said the donkey.

The Musicians of Bremen: The Famous Animal Tower

One breath later, the forest exploded with noise.

The donkey brayed with all the force in his lungs.

The dog barked and howled.

The cat screeched and yowled.

The rooster crowed like dawn had shattered over the world.

At that same instant, the whole living tower crashed through the window.

Glass rattled. Shutters banged. Hooves thumped. Fur flew. Feathers whirled.

The robbers sprang up in terror.

“A monster!”

“A ghost!”

“A demon from the woods!”

They did not stay to look twice. With wild cries they dashed out of the house and vanished into the forest as fast as their legs could carry them.

For a moment the animals stood still in the wrecked room.

Then the dog barked happily. “It worked!”

The cat jumped onto a chair. “Of course it did.”

The rooster flapped onto the table. “What a performance!”

The donkey laughed his loudest laugh. “And now, my friends, supper!”

They ate until they were full. The dog gnawed bones. The cat chose fish and bits of roasted meat. The rooster pecked happily at grains and crumbs. The donkey enjoyed bread and vegetables and sweet apples. It was the finest meal any of them had seen in a long while.

Afterward, they put out the lamp and looked for good places to sleep. The donkey stretched out on a pile of straw. The dog lay by the door. The cat curled up beside the warm hearth and the rooster settled on the mantel above.

Soon all four were fast asleep.

A Robber Comes Back

Late that night, one of the robbers crept back through the forest. His companions had sent him to see whether the house was truly haunted. He did not like the job one bit, but he liked being mocked by the others even less. So he sneaked toward the house and pushed the door open a crack.

Inside, everything was dark.

“No ghosts,” he muttered. “Just shadows.”

He stepped quietly into the room and reached toward the hearth, hoping to light a candle.

But the cat was lying there.

In the darkness her eyes flashed like two bright sparks. The robber thought he had found hot coals, so he leaned closer.

At once, the cat sprang up with a furious spit and scratched his face.

“Aaah!” yelled the robber, stumbling backward.

He tripped over the dog by the door, and the dog snapped and bit his leg.

Howling in pain, the robber staggered across the room and blundered into the donkey, who kicked out from the straw and sent him reeling.

As he staggered away, the rooster above flapped his wings and crowed at the top of his voice, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”

The terrified robber ran through the forest and did not stop until he reached his gang.

His face was scratched, his leg was bitten and his coat was covered in dust.

“Well?” the others cried. “What did you see?”

The robber shivered. “Do not go back there,” he said. “A terrible witch sits by the fire and claws at anyone who comes near. By the door stands a man with a knife who stabs your leg. On the straw lies a giant who kicks with the force of a club. And above the hearth, a judge shouts, ‘Bring me the rascal here!’”

The other robbers turned pale. None of them ever returned to the house again.

A New Home at Last

Morning sunlight spilled through the trees and into the house.

The donkey woke first, then the dog, then the cat and lastly the rooster. Each remembered the feast, the fright and the wonderful victory of the night before.

The donkey looked around at the strong walls, the warm hearth and the table that still held crumbs of supper.

“Well,” he said slowly, “Bremen is still far away, but perhaps we have already found what we were looking for.”

The dog stretched. “That is true.”

The cat purred as she sat by the fading ashes. “This house suits me very well.”

The rooster fluttered down from his beam. “And no cook is waiting here with a pot.”

The four animals looked at one another.

They had started their journey hoping to become the Musicians of Bremen. Yet somewhere along the road they had found something even better. They had found companions who cared for one another. They had found courage they did not know they still possessed. And now, quite by accident, they had found a place where no one wanted to use them up and throw them away.

The donkey smiled. “Perhaps,” he said, “we do not need to go any farther.”

“I agree,” said the dog at once.

“So do I,” said the cat.

“Without question,” said the rooster.

And so the four friends stayed in the house in the forest. They lived there together in comfort and peace. Sometimes they still made music, though anyone hearing it from a distance might have called it barking, braying, meowing and crowing all at once.

But to them it sounded like triumph.

And if travelers passed through those woods on quiet evenings, they sometimes heard that wild cheerful noise rolling through the trees and wondered what strange band of musicians played there.

As for the donkey, the dog, the cat and the rooster, they never again belonged to masters who measured worth only by youth and labor. They belonged to one another.