Maxík and Majka woke up one morning with their noses as red as clowns, eyes they couldn't even open, and beads of sweat running down their foreheads. They were simply sick. When Kaško saw them, he felt very sad. He planned a fantastic game with his friends.
"I'm not giving up just like that," Kaško said to himself, "I'm going to make some healthful tea for my friends. And not only healthful, but also miraculous. But how to brew it?" Kaško pondered and pondered, but he couldn't remember.
There are many medicinal plants growing in the Haravara country, there are many places where you may pick these herbs. There are also many orchards where fruits and vegetables are grown. Haravara is simply a healthful country. To pluck is one thing. Brewing a healthful tea is another.
"Maybe I have a prescription in a pocket," he searched all 36 pockets and... NOTHING. After a moment, though, his eyes lit up with joy.
"Great-grandfather Athanasius! He had a good prescription," Kaško finally remembered, "Friends, wait for me here. I'll be right back, and we'll play."
Kaško put on a hat like Indiana Jones was wearing and took off.
Great-grandfather Athanasius lived 400 years ago in a monastery in the village of Jasov. Kaško could travel by bus, but he had to hurry, so he used a transmigrating herb. He took just one and in a few seconds he was there.
"The monastery is still beautiful," sighed Kaško and started to search. First, he examined the fountain in front of the monastery. Then he flew past the magnificent statues in the church, which looked as if they were about to move, and the angels, in turn, looked like they were about to spread their wings and fly up to the beautifully painted ceiling.
"Aaaaaaa, there's the prescription!" Kaško flew up to the frescoes – the paintings on the ceiling.
He saw several signs. But no prescription.
"I love the Baroque, especially those chubby little angels and muscular saints. You won't find prettier ones in the whole Haravara country," Kaško gushed to himself.
He went into every room in the huge monastery. Nothing. He couldn't find the prescription.
"I'll try the library again," he hummed to himself.
He walked through four walls and was in a beautiful room full of old books. From an inner pocket he took out an herb of the common quick-reader and set to work. He flipped through and read all the books on the shelves. He was amazingly handy with the speed-reader. But no prescription for healing tea.
"Well, it's clear I'm going to need medicinal herbs."
The Haravara countryside is full of meadows where you may just walk and lie and smell that beautiful herbal-floral scent. There, medicinal herbs would surely be found. But he didn't have time for that right now.
"There are herbs in the monastery garden," Kaško remembered, "maybe there will be a prescription there."
He walked through the entire monastery garden. He discovered interesting trees, herbs, shrubs, but no prescription.
That's when it dawned on him. My great-grandfather and great-grandaunt and all the people from Jasov, and those who came here, were writing down secret things on the cave walls. This one is just a few steps away from the monastery.
Kaško ran into the cave. He flew from wall to wall, from overhang to rock outcrop and read the cave inscriptions. They were in different languages, but no prescription.
"I will look around those beautiful columns," thought Kaško, seeing their extraordinary beauty.
Some grow from below, some from above. Some just lie on the ground. Some look like dwarfs or like the wings of angels from a monastery. He found several inscriptions, but none that even resembled a prescription.
"I need to do some thinking."
He lay down on the loungers in one of the cave halls. That's where people with bad breath go to be treated. Now Kaško was lying there, breathing slowly and wondering where else he could find the prescription.
"The miracle prescription. Where, where, where, where..."
He remembered that in the cave people used to keep their treasures in one place. He ran to the monastery to get a pickaxe and started digging. He was a little frightened by the old bones from prehistoric animals that appeared, but he kept digging. It was hard work, and he knew that he was not allowed to dig, break, or otherwise interfere with the cave. However, he urgently needed to heal his friends, and he also knew that his herb woundwort extraordinaire would also heal wounds in the cave if he rubbed the walls with it. However, from his painstaking and bloodthirsty digging, the pickaxe suddenly broke.
While Kaško was wondering what to do next, he heard the bells from the monastery. The strikes of the bell reminded him of a blacksmith's anvil.
"Sure, it's going to Medzev! It's only a few kilometres from Jasov."
In Medzev Kaško landed in the courtyard of a beautiful house. He knocked. "One moment, I'll attend to you right away, come into the house for now," came the call.
Kaško walked in and was completely fascinated. The house was full of old cameras, moving cameras, photos. He remembered Aunt Amelia, who had been a model a hundred years ago.
"There he is!" Kaško discovered his aunt in one of the photos. Just then a smiling gentleman appeared in the house.
"Have you come to the museum?"
"I want to ask if that hámor (water-powered blacksmith's hammer) still works."
"The hámor is completely repaired. Look, we're letting the water in here, it's going to turn this big wheel. There's this crazy mechanism attached to the wheel, and it's going to set in motion this huge hammer. Here you may forge the best picks, hoes, spades," explained the guide to Kaško when he understood what an accident had happened to him.
Kaško stood by the hámor in the yard of the beautiful house, and he heated the broken pieces of the pick in the fire. The smiling gentleman let the water flow, the wheels began to turn, and with the help of a gigantic hammer Kaško really hammered the broken parts together.
After a while Kaško had a new pick.
"Now that I have my tools repaired, perhaps the treasure in Jasov will wait for me for a while," thought Kaško sweetly, "I'd like a good cake and some homemade lemonade."
As he walked through Medzev, he smelled the aroma of fresh cookies. He went inside and found himself in another world. There were crazy paintings on the walls, crazy statues all around, chairs, tables with surprises hidden in them. He even found a beautiful chair there that could have been simply used by the king of the Haravara country.
"Can I help you?" the cheerful fellow who had made, painted, carved and glued all those beautiful things asked Kaško. His name was Helmut. "We're having a delicious tea today. According to an old tree recipe", Helmut boasted to Kaško.
"A tree recipe?" Kaško didn't understand.
"I found it in Jasov in an old tree," he showed the recipe to Kaško.
"But that's that! The recipe starts with Athanase! Excuse me, Helmut, can you pack up those cookies and add four more for my friends? In the meantime, I'll copy this recipe."
"As you wish," Helmut nodded and went to make fragrant hot chocolate.
Kaško copied the recipe and flew to his friends.
He brewed the tea at home. Maxík and Majka were cured right away and the next day he took them on a trip to Jasov and Medzev - but this time they didn't fly but travelled by bus. – teraz ale neleteli, ale cestovali autobusom.
