One day a young man said, "This tale about everybody having to die doesn't set too well with me. I will go in search of the land where one never dies."
He bid father, mother, uncles, and cousins goodbye and departed. For days and months he walked, asking everybody he met if they could direct him to the place where one never dies. But no one knew of any such place. One day he met an old man with a white beard down to his chest, pushing a wheelbarrow full of rocks. The boy asked him, "Could you direct me to that place where one never dies?"
"You don't want to die? Stick with me. Until I've finished carting away that entire mountain rock by rock, you shall not die."
"How long will it take you to level it?"
"One hundred years at least."
"And I'll have to die afterward?"
"I'm afraid so."
"No, this is no place for me. I will go to the place where one never dies."
He said goodbye to the old man and pushed onward. He walked for miles and came to a forest so vast that it seemed endless. There he saw an old man with a beard down to his navel pruning branches with a pruning hook. The young man asked, "Could you kindly tell me of a place where one never dies?"
"Stick with me," replied the old man. "Until I've trimmed all the trees in this forest with my pruning hook, you shall not die."
"How long will that take?"
"Who knows? At least two hundred years."
"And afterward I'll still have to die?"
"Indeed you will. Isn't two hundred years enough for you?"
"No, this is no place for me. I'm seeking a place where one never dies."
They said goodbye, and the youth continued onward. A few months later he reached the seashore. There he saw an old man with a beard down to his knees watching a duck drink seawater.
"Could you kindly tell me of a place where one never dies?"
"If you're afraid to die, stick with me. See that duck? Until it has drunk the sea dry, there's no danger at all of your dying."
"How long will it take?"
"Roughly three hundred years."
"And afterward I'll have to die?"
"What else do you expect? How much longer would you even want to live?"
"No, no, no. Not even this place is for me. I must go where one never dies."
He resumed his journey. One evening he came to a magnificent palace. He knocked, and the door was opened by an old man with a beard all the way down to his feet. "What is it you look for, young man?"
"I'm looking for the place where one never dies."
"Good for you, you've found it! This is the place where one never dies. As long as you stay with me, you can bet your boots you won't die."
"At last, after all the miles I've trudged! This is just the place I was seeking! But are you sure I'm not imposing on you?"
"Absolutely. I'm delighted to have company."
So the youth moved into the palace with the old man and lived like a lord. The years went by so fast and so pleasantly that he lost all track of time. Then one day he said to the old man, "There's no place on earth like here, but I really would like to pay my family a little visit and see how they're getting along."
"What family are you talking about? The last of your relatives died quite some time ago."
"I'd still like to go on a little journey, if only to revisit my birthplace and possibly run into the sons of my relatives' sons."
"If you're bent on going, follow my instructions. Go to the stable and get my white horse, which gallops like the wind. But once you're on him, never, never dismount for any reason whatever, or you will die on the spot."
"Don't worry, I'll stay in the saddle. You know how I hate the very idea of dying! "
He went to the stable, led out the white horse, got into the saddle, and was off like the wind. He passed the place where he had met the old man with the duck. There where the sea used to be was now a vast prairie. On the edge of it was a little pile of bones, the bones of the old man. "Just look at that," said the youth. "I was wise not to tarry here, or I too would now be dead."
He moved on and came to what was once the vast forest where the old man had to prune every single tree with his pruning hook. Not one tree was left, and the ground was as bare as a desert. "How right I was not to stop here, or I too would now be long gone, like the old soul in the forest."
He passed the place where the huge mountain had stood, which an old man was to cart away rock by rock. Now the ground was as level as a billiard table.
"Nor would I have fared any better here! "
On and on he went, finally reaching his town, but it had changed so much he no longer recognized it. Not only was his house gone, but even the street it had stood on. He inquired about his relatives, but no one had ever heard his family name. That was the end of it. "I might as well go back at once," he decided.
He turned his horse around and started back, but was not halfway home before he met a carter with a cart full of old shoes and drawn by an ox. "Sir," said the carter, "please be so kind as to dismount for a moment and help me dislodge this wheel sticking in the mud."
"I'm in a hurry and can't get out of the saddle," replied the youth.
"Please help me. I'm all by myself, as you can see, and night is coming on."
Moved to pity, the youth dismounted. He had only one foot on the ground and the other still in the stirrup, when the carter grabbed him by the arm and said: "I have you at last! Know who I am? Yes, I am Death! See all those old shoes in the cart? They're all the pairs you caused me to wear out running after you. Now you've fallen into my hands, from which no one ever escapes! "
So the poor young man had to die the same as everybody else.