Tradition / Region: Austrian Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Mountain dweller
The Myth
About sixty years ago, in the valley of the Ötz near Lengenfeld, there lived a man of enormous height and terrifying strength known as the Adasbub. He was a monster in spirit as much as in body—a thief, a drunkard, a fighter, and a blasphemer. He had served as a soldier in many wars and returned more savage than when he had left. From foreign lands he brought home great sums of money, stolen and extorted, and with this wealth he bought himself a farm.
Yet he lived not like a Christian farmer, but like a pagan. He never went to church. Instead, he sat in the village inn boasting of his velvet jacket adorned with buttons hammered from old silver coins. The young men of the village, dazzled by his swagger and riches, grew ashamed of their simple clothing and sought to imitate him.
The Adasbub’s strength was legendary. It was said he had once defeated fifty men who attacked him at the same time. Those who offended him feared more than his fists. People whispered that he could divert mountain torrents onto a rival’s fields or send huge snowballs—packed with hidden stones—crashing down upon a roof. Whether by cunning or brute force, he was a man to be feared.
His pleasure lay in drink, oaths, and cruelty. He gathered around him a band of like-minded ruffians. Together they committed outrageous acts. They tore doors from their neighbors’ houses and dragged them into the forests. They lifted carts onto rooftops. They broke into sacristies to steal and drink the priests’ wine. They shut goats into roadside chapels and uprooted cemetery crosses, thrusting them upside down into graves, laughing that they had made Christendom stand upon its head.
At last, the Adasbub planned a new villainy involving the daughter of a farmer whose home stood on the Burgstein above Lengenfeld. But word of the plot reached the farmer. Rather than flee, he sharpened his axe and waited.
When the Adasbub entered the house, the farmer struck with all his strength. The axe split the giant’s skull, and the terror of the valley fell dead at his feet. Seeing their leader slain, his companions fled in panic.
The alarm spread quickly. People climbed up to the Burgstein from every direction and thanked the farmer for freeing them from their tormentor. They cut off the Adasbub’s head and dragged his body to the edge of a precipice, casting it down onto the road below near the sulphur baths of Rumunschlung.
The head was thrown into the charnel-house of the cemetery at Lengenfeld. There it is said to remain.
The skull, nearly cleft in two, does not always lie quiet. On certain midnights it is said to glow red-hot, terrible to behold. Some claim that when it burns, it rolls from the charnel-house into the chapel, whirling in circles before leaping back to its place. By morning it has cooled, appearing once more like any other skull.
Thus the Adasbub endures—not as a man, but as a warning.
Gallery
Sources
Günther, A. von. (1874). Tales and legends of the Tyrol. London: Chapman and Hall.
Interpretive Lenses
Religious Readings
- Christian Ascetic Deep Dive
Philosophical Readings
- Nietzschean Deep Dive
Psychological Readings
- Jungian Deep Dive
Esoteric Deep Dive
- Hermetic Deep Dive
Political / Social Readings
- Marxist Deep Dive
Other
- How to Invite The Adasbub