There was once a peasant and his wife, and they had one son, and he, though good, was a block-head, and no good at all for working in the fields. “Husband mine,” said the mother, “there is not much wit in our son, and he will eat us out of house and home; send him away, let him live by himself, and make his own way in the world.” So they sent away their son; they gave him a most wretched little nag, a tumble-down hut in the wood, and a cock with five hens. And little Kuz’ma lived alone, all alone in the dark wood.
The little she-fox scented out the fowls that were right under her very nose in the wood, and determined to pay a visit to Kuz’ma’s hut. One day little Kuz’ma went out to hunt, and no sooner had he left the hut than the little fox, who was on the watch all the time, ran up, killed one of the hens, roasted it, and ate it up. Little Kuz’ma returned, and behold! one of the hens was gone. And he thought: “I suppose the vulture must have pounced down on it!” The next day he again went out hunting. He happened to fall in with the fox, and she asked him: “Whither away, little Kuz’ma?”—“I am going a-hunting, little fox!”—“Well, good-bye!” And immediately she scampered off to his hut, killed another hen, cooked it, and ate it. Little Kuz’ma came home and counted his hens, and another was missing. And it occurred to him: “What if the little fox has tasted of my hens!” On the third day he nailed up the door and window of his hut strongly, so strongly, and went about his business as usual. And the fox turned up from somewhither and said to him: “Whither away, little Kuz’ma?”—“I go a-hunting, little fox!”—“Well, good-bye!” Off she ran to Kuz’ma’s hut, and he followed her track back too. The fox ran all round the hut, and saw that the door and window were nailed up strongly, oh so strongly; how was she to get into the hut? So up she climbed and disappeared down the chimney; then up came Kuz’ma and caught the fox. “Ah-ha!” cried he; “look what a thief pays me visits! Wait a bit, my little lady; you shall not get out of my hands alive.” Then the little fox began to implore Kuz’ma: “Don’t kill me! I’ll get thee betrothed to a rich bride. Only please roast me one more fowl, the fattest, with lots of nice oil!” Little Kuz’ma fell a-thinking, and then he killed one more fowl for the little fox: “There, eat, little fox, and much good may it do thee!” The fox ate it up, licked her chaps, and said: “Behind this wood is the tsardom of the great and terrible Tsar Ogon,2 his wife is the Tsaritsa Molnya,3 and they have a daughter, a most beauteous Tsarevna; I’ll marry thee to her.”—“Who would take a poor fellow like me?”—“Silence! that’s not thy business.” And the little fox set off to Tsar Ogon and the Tsaritsa Molnya. She ran all the way to them, entered their palace, made a low obeisance, and said: “Hail, mighty, potent Tsar Ogon, and terrible Tsaritsa Molnya!”—“Hail to thee, fox! What nice little piece of good news hast thou brought us?”—“Well, I have come to you as a match-maker. You have the bride and I have the young bridegroom, Kuz’ma Skorobogaty.”—“Where is he buried that he does not come himself?”—“He cannot quit his principality. He rules over the wild beasts, and takes his pleasure with them.”—“So that’s the sort of bridegroom you present us with! Well, go back to him and say that he must send us forty forties of gray wolves, and then we’ll accept him as the bridegroom.” Then the little fox ran to the meadows which lay beneath this very wood and began rolling about in these meadows. A wolf came running up and said: “I see, gossip, that you’ve had a good feed somewhere or you would not roll about like that.”—“I wish I wasn’t so full; I’ve been at a banquet with the Tsar and the Tsaritsa. Do you mean to say that you’ve not been invited there, gossip? Impossible! Why, all the wild beasts were there, and as for the sables and ermines there was no end to them! The bears were still sitting there when I left, and eating like anything!” The wolf began to beg the fox humbly: “Little fox, can’t you take me to the Tsar’s banquet!”—“Why not! Hearken! Go you and collect by to-morrow forty forties of your brethren, the gray wolves, and I’ll lead the whole lot of you thither.” On the following day the wolves assembled and the fox led them to the Tsar’s white stone palace, placed them all in rows, and announced to the Tsar: “Mighty and potent Tsar Ogon and terrible Tsaritsa Molnya, thy destined son-in-law has sent thee gifts; lo! a whole herd of gray wolves does obeisance to you, and the number of them is forty forties.” The Tsar bade them drive all the wolves into the enclosure, and said to the fox: “If my destined son-in-law is able to send me wolves as a present, let him now also send me just as many bears.” The little fox ran to little Kuz’ma and bade him roast another fowl, ate her fill of it, and ran off again to the fenced meadows of the Tsar. Thither she went and fell a-rolling about under the selfsame wood. And out of the wood came running a shaggy bear and looked at the fox. “Well, gossip fox,” said he, “you have plainly had your fill, or what has come over you to make you roll about in the grass so merrily?”—“Had my fill! I should think so. Why I’ve been to the Tsar’s banquet; there was a whole lot of us beasts there, and of sables and ermines no end. The wolves are eating there now, and a nice dinner they are making of it.” Bruin straightway began to beg the fox to let him go: “Little fox, won’t you lead me also to the Tsar’s banquet?”—“Very well; hearken. Bring together by to-morrow forty forties of black bears, and I’ll lead you thither with pleasure, for of course the Tsar’s cooks would not make ready for you alone.” Old bandy-legs wandered all about the woods, proclaimed the news to all the bears, and got together as many bears as the fox had commanded, and she led them to the Tsar’s white stone palace, arranged them in rows, and announced: “Mighty and potent Tsar Ogon, and terrible Tsaritsa Molnya, your destined son-in-law salutes you with a present of forty forties of black bears.” The Tsar bade them drive the bears also into the enclosure, and said to the fox: “If my destined son-in-law can send me so many bears and wolves as a gift, let him now send us also just as many martens and sables.” The fox again hastened off to Kuz’ma, bade him roast the last hen, together with the cock, and when she had eaten them in his honour she went again to the fenced meadows of the Tsar, and began rolling about in the grass. A sable and a marten came running by. “Where have you been feeding so fatly, sly Mrs. Foxy?” they asked. “What! ye live in the wood and yet don’t know that I am held in great honour by the Tsar? This day I have conducted the wolves and the bears to his banquet; by this time they will be unable to tear themselves away from the Tsar’s tit-bits; never have they had such a feed from the day of their birth.” Then the sable and the marten also began wheedling the fox. “Dear little dovey gossip! wilt not thou lead us to the Tsar? We will only look on afar off while the others eat.”—“If ye will bring together forty forties of your sables and martens a dinner shall be got ready for the whole lot of you. But a couple of you all alone would not even be admitted into the courtyard.” The next day the sables and the martens came together, and the fox led them to Tsar Ogon, made obeisance to him on behalf of his future son-in-law, and presented him with the forty forties of sables and martens. The Tsar accepted the gift, and said: “Thanks! Tell my destined son-in-law to come to me himself; we want to have a look at him, and it is time he saw his bride.”
The next day the little fox again came running to court. The Tsar asked her: “Where, then, is our destined son-in-law?” The little fox replied: “He bade me bow low before you and say that to-day he cannot manage to come anyhow!”—“How so?” “Well, he is frightfully busy; he is getting together all his things to come to you, and just now he is counting up his treasures. So now he begs you to lend him a corn-measure, he must measure his silver money; his corn-measures are all choke-full of gold.” The Tsar, without more ado, gave the fox the corn-measure, but he said to himself: “Well done, fox! This is something like a son-in-law that has fallen to our lot. He actually measures his gold and silver with corn-measures!” The next day the fox again came running to court and returned the Tsar his corn-measure (but she had stuck little silver pieces all about the corners of it), and said: “Your destined son-in-law, Kuz’ma Skorobogaty, bade me bow low to you and say that to-day he’ll be with you with all his riches.” The Tsar was delighted, and bade them have everything ready for the reception of the precious guest. But the little fox set off for Kuz’ma’s hut, and there, for the last two days, Kuz’ma had been lying on the stove—hungry, oh! so hungry, and waiting. The fox said to him: “Why dost thou lie down like that? I have got thee a bride from Tsar Ogon and the Tsaritsa Molnya. Let us come to them as guests and celebrate the wedding!”—“Why, fox! art thou out of thy wits? How can I go when I haven’t even clothes to cover me?”—“Go! saddle thy nag, I say! and don’t bother thy head about that!” Kuz’ma brought out his sorry jade from beneath the shed, covered it with a mat, put on the reins, jumped on its back, and set off after the fox at a light trot. They were already drawing near to the palace, when they came across a little bridge directly in their path. “Jump off thy horse!” said the fox to Kuz’ma, “and saw through the buttresses of this bridge.” So little Kuz’ma fell a-sawing with all his might, and sawed through the buttresses of the bridge. Down came the bridge with a crash. “Now, strip thyself naked, throw thy horse and all thy clothes into the water, and roll about in the sand, and wait for me!” That’s what the fox said; and then off she ran to the Tsar and the Tsaritsa, and cried to them from afar: “Hi, dear little father! Such an accident! Help, help!”—“What’s the matter, dear little foxy?” asked the Tsar.—“Why, this; the bridges in your tsardom are not strong enough. Your destined son-in-law was coming to you with all his riches, and this precious bridge broke down beneath the weight of them, and all his wealth and all his people have fallen in, and he himself is lying on the bridge more dead than alive!” The Tsar made a great to-do, and shrieked at his servants, and cried: “Haste ye, haste ye! as quickly as ye can, and take of my royal robes for Kuz’ma Skorobogaty, and save him from mortal harm!” And the envoys of the Tsar ran as fast as they could to the bridge, and there they saw little Kuz’ma rolling about in the sand. They picked him up, washed and dried him all over, arrayed him in the royal robes, curled his hair, and led him respectfully to the palace. The Tsar, full of joy that his destined son-in-law had been delivered from such peril, bade them ring all the bells, fire all the guns, and celebrate the wedding at once. So they crowned Kuz’ma as the groom of the Tsarevna, and he dwelt with his father-in-law, and sang songs all day; and the fox was held in high honour at court till life at court ceased to bore her, and she had no longer any desire to return to the woods.
A long time ago, far from our days, in a certain tsardom in a certain Empire lived a famous Tsar Afron Afronovich, and he had three youthful sons: the eldest the Tsarevich Dimitry, the second the Tsarevich Vasily, and the youngest the Tsarevich Ivan. The sons of Afron were all grown up; the youngest had reached his seventeenth year, while Tsar Afron himself had left sixty years behind him. And once, as Tsar Afron fell a-thinking and looked at his sons, his heart grew sad: “Look now!” thought he, “life is a good thing to these youths, and they rejoice in God’s fair world; but, as for me, I feel old age drawing nigh, and divers diseases begin to afflict me, and the wide world has now but little delight for me. How will it be with me henceforth? How shall I escape old age?” Thus he thought and thought, and so he fell asleep. And a vision appeared to the Tsar. Somewhere or other beyond lands thrice-nine, in the Empire of Thrice-ten, dwelt the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, the sister of nine brothers; and under the pillow of this Tsarevna was preserved a flask of living-water, and whoever drank of this water instantly became thirty years younger. No sooner did the Tsar Afron awake from his sleep, than he called together his children and the wise men of his realm, and said to them: “Interpret me this dream, ye my sages and cunning counsellors. What shall I do, and how can I discover this Tsarevna?” The sages were silent. The cunning counsellors stroked their long gray beards, looked up and down, scratched their heads, and thus they answered the Tsar Afron: “Oh, Sovereign Tsar! though we have not seen this thing with our eyes, yet our ears have heard of this Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible; but how to find her, and which way to get at her, that we know not.” No sooner did the three Tsarevichs hear this, when with one voice they thus implored their father the Tsar: “Dear father Tsar! give us thy blessing, and send us to the four corners of the earth, that we may see people and show ourselves and discover the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible.” The father agreed, gave them provision for the journey, took leave of them tenderly, and sent them off to the four corners of the earth. When the two elder brothers got beyond the city gates they turned to the right, but the youngest brother, the Tsarevich Ivan, turned to the left. The elder brothers had got only a hundred miles and no more from home, when they met an old man, and he asked them: “Whither are ye going, young men? Is your journey far?”—But the Tsareviches replied: “Take yourself off, old rogue! What business is it of yours?” The old man said nothing but went on his way. The Tsareviches went on and on, all that day and the next and a whole week, and they came to such a wilderness that they could see neither earth nor sky, nor any living being, nor any habitation; and in the deepest depth of this wilderness they met another old man, even older than the first. “Hail, good youths!” said he to the Tsareviches. “Are ye truants and rest, or are ye in quest?”—“Why, we are in quest of something, of course. We are going in search of the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, with her flask of living-water!”—“Nay, my good youths!” said the aged stranger, “’twere better ye did not try to get thither.”—“And why, pray?”—“I’ll tell you. Three rivers cross this road—rivers large and broad. On these rivers are three ferries. At the first ferry they’ll cut off your right arm, at the second your left, but at the third they’ll cut off your head!” The brother Tsareviches were sore distressed, their giddy pates hung down below their sturdy shoulders, and they thought to themselves: “Ought we not to have some regard for our father’s head and our own heads also? ’Twill be much better to return home alive and well, and wait for fine weather by the sea.” And they turned back; and when they were a twenty-four hours’ journey from home, they resolved to rest in the fields; and they spread their tents, with the golden tent-poles, let their horses out to graze, and said: “Here we’ll stop and await our brother, and while away the time in idleness.”
Tsarevna Loveliness Inexhaustible.
But with the Tsarevich Ivan it fared far otherwise on his journey. There met him the same old man who had encountered his brothers, and this old man asked him the self-same question: “Whither art thou going, young man? Is thy journey far?” And the Tsarevich Ivan answered him: “What is that to thee? I want to have nothing to say to thee!”—But afterwards, when he had gone on a little further, he bethought him of what he had done. “Why did I answer the old man so rudely? Old people are full of ideas! perchance he might have advised me well.” So he turned his horse, overtook the old man, and said: “Stay, my father! I did not quite hear what thou saidst to me.”—“I asked thee whether thy journey was far?”—“Well, my father, the fact is, I am in search of the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, the sister of nine brothers. I want to get from her the living-water for my dad the Tsar.”—“Well,” said the old man, “’tis well for thee, good youth, that thou hast answered courteously, and therefore I will put thee in the right way. But thou wilt never get there on an ordinary horse.”—“Then whence shall I get me an extraordinary horse?”—“I’ll tell thee. Return home, and bid your grooms drive all thy father’s horses down to the blue sea, and whichever horse breaks away from the others and goes right into the sea up to his neck, and begins to drink till the blue sea begins to rise and dash from shore to shore—him seize and mount.” “I thank thee for thy good words, my father.” The Tsarevich did as the old man bade him. He chose the most valiant charger from among his father’s horses, watched all through the night, and when on the following morning he went out and mounted into the saddle, the horse spoke to him, with a man’s voice: “Tsarevich Ivan, dismount! I will buffet thee thrice, to give thee the muscles of a hero.” He buffeted once, he buffeted twice, but the third time he buffeted not at all. “I see,” cried he, “that if I were to buffet thee a third time, the whole land would not be able to hold us both.” Then the Tsarevich Ivan sat on the horse, put on knightly armour, took out of the armoury of his father’s palace an old heroic, trusty blade, and set out upon his quest. He went for a day and for a night, for a month, and for two months, and three; and so he came to a place where his horse was in water up to the knees, and in grass up to the breast, while he, poor youth, had nothing to eat. And in the midst of this wilderness the Tsarevich Ivan found a miserable hut; this hut stood upon fowl’s legs, and in it was the Baba-Yaga; the bony-legged witch was lying down, and her legs stretched from corner to corner. The Tsarevich went into the hut and cried: “Hail, Granny!”—“Hail to thee, Tsarevich Ivan; hast come to rest, or art thou in quest?”—“I am in quest of something, Granny. I am off beyond lands thrice-nine, to the Empire of Thrice-ten, I seek the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible. I want to get from her the living-water for my dad, the Tsar.” The Baba-Yaga answered: “Though I have not seen it with my eyes, I have heard of it with my ears; but thou wilt never get there.”—“Wherefore?”—“Because there, there are three ferries; at the first they’ll cut off thy right hand, at the second thy left, and at the third thy head.”—“Well, Granny, one single head is not such a great matter. I’ll go—and God’s will be done!”—“Alas, O Tsarevich Ivan! ’twere much better to turn back; thou art still young and tender, thou hast never been in dangerous places, thou hast never run great terrors.”—“Nay, Granny! He who tugs at the rope must not cry, I’m broke!”1 So he took leave of the Baba-Yaga and went on further, and he came at last to the first ferry, and he saw the ferrymen on the other side, lying down asleep. The Tsarevich Ivan stood on the bank and thought to himself: “If I call to them, I shall deafen them for ever, and if I whistle with all my might, I shall upset the ferry-boat.” So he whistled a half whistle, and immediately the ferrymen started from their slumber and rowed him across the stream. “What do ye want for your labours, my friends?” asked the Tsarevich Ivan.—“Well, what’s the use of haggling? Give us your right arm!” cried the ferrymen, with one voice.—“Nay, nay; I want my arm for myself!” cried the Tsarevich Ivan; and drawing forth his stout blade, he struck to the right and to the left, and beat all the ferrymen till they were half dead, and then went on further. And in this way he crossed the other two fords also. At last he came to the Empire of Thrice-ten, and on the borders of it stood a wild man, in stature like a tree of the forest, as thick-set as a haystack; there he stood, and in his hand he held a club of oak. And the Giant said to the Tsarevich Ivan: “Whither art thou going, oh worm?”—“I am going to the realm of the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, to get the living-water for my father, the Tsar.”—“What, thou pigmy! I’ve been guarding her realm here these hundred years. I have had my fill of heroes—not like thee were the youths who came hither, yet they all fell beneath my hand, and their bones all lie over there. But as for thee, thou art a mere worm!” The Tsarevich saw that he could not overcome the giant, so he turned his horse aside. He went on and on till he came to the very depths of the forest, till he came upon a hut, and in this hut sat a very old, old woman. The moment she saw the good youth she cried: “Hail! Tsarevich Ivan, why hath God sent thee hither?” The Tsarevich told her all his secrets. The old woman had pity on him, and drew from her stove a magic poisonous weed and a little ball. “Go into the open plain,” said she, “rake up a fire, and throw this magic poisonous weed into it. But mark me now; stand thou at the back of the blast, lest the smoke from the fire blow upon thee. This blast will cause the giant to be overcome by a deep sleep; then do thou cut off his head, but roll the ball before thee and follow whithersoever it rolls. The ball will lead thee to those very places where reigns the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible. The Tsarevna walks about there for nine days, and on the tenth day after that she will refresh herself with the sleep of heroes in her own place. But look to it that thou dost not enter in by the gate, but leap right over the wall with all thy might, and do not stick in the strings at the top of the wall, lest thou arouse the whole empire, when thou wilt not escape alive. But the moment thou hast leaped over the wall, go straight into the palace—into the back-chamber; open the door very, very softly, and draw out the flask of living-water from beneath the pillow of the Tsarevna. But when thou hast got the flask, hasten back as quickly as thou camest, nor look for an instant upon the beauty of the Tsarevna, lest it be too much for thee, good youth!” The Tsarevich Ivan thanked the old woman, and did everything she bade him. As soon as he had lit the fire, he threw the weed into it so that the smoke spread in the direction where the wild man was standing on guard; the eyes of the giant grew dim, he began to yawn and stretch, he laid him on the damp earth and began to sleep soundly—very soundly. The Tsarevich Ivan cut off his head, rolled the little ball along, and went on further. He went on and on, and far away the golden palace began to gleam amidst the green of the forest. All at once a column of dust came out of the palace and along the road, and the gleam of lances and cuirasses was visible through the dust, and there was a sound as of the trampling of many warlike chargers. The little ball rolled out of the road a little on one side; the Tsarevich Ivan, following after it, also turned from the path, went among the bushes, and let his horse out to grass. And from his place in the bushes he saw approaching the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, and she diverted herself with her warriors in the green meadows. And the whole of the Tsarevna’s array consisted of maidens alone, each one more beautiful than her neighbour. But the most lovely of them all was the inexhaustibly lovely Tsarevna. She pitched her tent in the meadows, and for nine days she and her maidens diverted themselves with divers pastimes. But the Tsarevich, like a hungry wolf, looked out from his hiding-place at the Tsarevna, he could not take his eyes from her, and look as he might he could not look his fill. At last, on the tenth day, when every one in the Tsarevna’s golden courts was asleep, he, spurring his horse with all his might, leaped right over the wall into the garden-court of the ladies, fastened his horse to a wooden post, and stealthily as a thief made his way into the palace, right into the very cabinet where, extended on her downy bed, with her fair locks scattered all about, lay the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, sleeping an unwakable heroic sleep. The Tsarevich drew from under her pillow the flask with the living-water, and was about to run off as quickly as he could, but it was too much for his youthful heart, and leaning over the Tsarevna, he kissed her thrice on her lips, which were sweeter than sugar. And by the time he had got out of the chamber, mounted his horse, and leaped across the wall, she awoke from his kisses. Loveliness-Inexhaustible leaped on her swift-flying mare, and hastened after the Tsarevich Ivan. The Tsarevich urged on his good steed, pulled at the silken reins, and lashed its sides with his whip. And the horse spoke to him with a man’s voice: “Wherefore dost thou beat me, Tsarevich Ivan? Neither the fowls of the air nor the beasts of the forest can escape or hide from that mare. She runs so that the earth trembles, she leaps across swift rivers from shore to shore, hills and dales vanish away beneath her feet!” And it had only time to speak these words when the Tsarevna overtook the good youth, struck him with her swinging blade, and pierced him full in the breast. Down fell the Tsarevich Ivan from his horse on the moist ground; his bright eyes closed, his red blood flowed. Loveliness-Inexhaustible gazed into his eyes, and a great sorrow overcame her; she saw that such a lovely youth as that was not to be found in the wide world. And she placed her white hand on the wound, washed it with living-water out of her flask, and immediately the wound healed up, and the Tsarevich Ivan arose well and unharmed.—“Wilt thou take me to wife?”—“That I will, Tsarevna!”—“Then return to thy kingdom, and if after three years thou hast not forgotten me, I will be thy wife, and thou shalt be my husband.” And the destined bridegroom took leave of his bride, and they parted in different directions. The Tsarevich Ivan went on and on for a long time, and saw many things, and at last he came upon a tent on a mountain, with a golden tent-pole, and round the tent two good horses were feeding on white summer-wheat and drinking mead, and in the tent were lying his two elder brothers, eating and drinking and diverting themselves with manifold diversions. And the elder brothers began to ask the younger one: “Hast thou got the living-water for our father?”—“I have got it!” replied the Tsarevich Ivan simply, for he always spoke out his secrets, happen what might. The elder brothers invited him to feast with them, made him drunk, drew the flask of living-water out of his bosom, and threw him down a precipice. The Tsarevich Ivan flew down and down, and at last he fell into the Realm-beneath-the-Earth. “And now,” thought he, “irretrievable ruin has come upon me! I can never find the ways that lead from hence!” So he went about in the Realm-beneath-the-Earth. He went on and on, and saw that the day grew shorter and shorter till it was like night; and at last he came to a place that was not a desert, and by the sea stood a castle that was a town, and a hut that was a mansion. The Tsarevich went up a flight of steps into a barn, and from the barn he went into the hut, prayed to God, and begged for a good night’s rest. But in the hut sat an old woman—an old, a very old woman; she was all wrinkled and gray. “Good youth,” cried she, “thou mayest sleep there and welcome; but say! how didst thou get hither?”—“Thou art an old person, granny, but thy way of asking is not wise. Thou shouldst first give me to eat and drink, and let me lie down to sleep, and after that ask me concerning my tidings.” The old woman gave the Tsarevich to eat and drink, let him lie down to sleep, and then asked him again. And the Tsarevich Ivan said to her: “I have been in the Kingdom of Thrice-ten, as the guest of the Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible, and now I am returning home to my father the Tsar Afron, but I have wandered from my path. Canst thou not show me the way home?”—“I do not know it myself, Tsarevich. Here have I been living nine-tenths of my life on this earth, and I have never heard of the Tsar Afron. Come now! sleep in peace, and to-morrow I will bring together my messengers, perhaps one of them may know.” The next day the Tsarevich got up very early, washed himself quite white, and went out with the old woman on the balcony, and the old woman cried with a piercing voice: “Hi, hi! ye swimming fish of the sea, and ye creeping reptiles of the earth, my faithful servants, assemble here to the very last one of you!” And immediately the blue sea was disturbed and all the fishes assembled, both small and great, and all the reptiles assembled; they all came to the shore under the water. “Does any one know where in all the world dwells the Tsar Afron, and by what way one can get to his kingdom from here?” And all the fishes and reptiles answered with one voice: “We have neither seen it with our eyes, nor heard it with our ears.” Then the old woman turned to the other side and screeched: “Hi! ye wandering beasts of the forest, and ye fowls that fly in the air, my trusty servants, assemble hither, and fly and run hither all of you, down to the very last one!” And the beasts of the forest came running in bands and bands, and the fowls of the air came flying in flocks and flocks, and the old woman began to ask them about Tsar Afron; and they all with one voice exclaimed to the old woman: “We have neither seen it with our eyes, nor heard it with our ears.”—“Well, Tsarevich, there’s nobody else to ask now, we’ve asked them all.” They were just about to go into the hut again, when there was a whistling and a roaring sound in the air, and the bird Mogol came flying along; he hid the light of day with his wings, and lighted on the ground close to the hut. “Where hast thou been, and why art thou come so late?” screeched the old woman. “I have been flying a long way off, in the realm of Tsar Afron, at the uttermost end of the wide world.”—“Well thou art just the one I want; render me now true and loyal service: carry thither the Tsarevich Ivan.”—“I shall be glad to carry him, but I shall want heaps and heaps of food; it takes three years to fly thither.”—“Take as much as thou dost want.” And the old woman made provision for the journey of the Tsarevich Ivan. She placed upon the bird a hogshead of water, and on the top of it a wicker basket full of meat, and put into his hands an iron pole. “There,” said she, “when thou fliest on the bird Mogol and she turns round and looks at thee, immediately plunge thy pole into the basket and give her a piece of beef.” The Tsarevich Ivan said “thank you” to the old woman, sat on the bird, and immediately she rose with him and bore him up in the air like a whirlwind. She flew and flew, she flew for a long, long time, and whenever she looked round at the Tsarevich he fed her with beef off the pole. And at last the Tsarevich Ivan saw that the basket was getting empty, so he said to the bird Mogol: “Look now, thou bird Mogol! thou hast now but little food left; light upon the moist earth, and I’ll get thee another basketful of divers meats.” But the bird Mogol answered and said: “Art thou mad, Tsarevich Ivan? Beneath us now is a forest dark and drear, muddy and boggy; if we lighted down there, thou and I would never get out again so long as the world lasts.” And now the Tsarevich had dispensed all the meat from the basket, and sent the basket and the hogshead flying off the bird; but the bird Mogol still kept on flying and turning its head for food. What was to be done now? The Tsarevich Ivan cut off the calves of his legs, put them on the pole, and gave them to the bird Mogol. She swallowed them up, and descended with the Tsarevich Ivan into a green meadow, upon silky grass with azure flowers. As the Tsarevich Ivan leaped off her on to the ground, the bird Mogol coughed up his calves again, fastened them on to his legs, moistened them with her spittle, and the Tsarevich went on his way well and strong. He came to the capital of Tsar Afron, his own father, and saw that something amiss was going on in the town. Crowds of people were wandering about the streets from end to end, the Tsar’s cunning counsellors were strolling aimlessly about the city, asking something from every one they met, and shaking their gray heads as if they were out of their wits. And the Tsarevich asked one of the people he met: “What’s the meaning of all this commotion in the city?” And the good people answered him: “The Tsarevna Loveliness-Inexhaustible is sailing against our kingdom; she is bringing a countless host with her in forty ships, and she demands that the Tsar should surrender to her the Tsarevich Ivan who disturbed her sleep three years ago by kissing her on her lips, which are sweeter than sugar; and if we do not surrender him she will destroy our kingdom utterly with fire and sword.”—“Well, it seems to me I have come just in time. I want this Tsarevna just as much as she wants me.” And he immediately went on board the Tsarevna’s ship. Here they embraced and fondled each other, and received their bridal crowns in the church of God, and after that they went to the Tsar Afron and told him all. The Tsar Afron drove his elder sons from Court, deprived them of their inheritance, and lived with his younger son, and lived happily and increased in all riches.
1 He who has said A, must say B also.
There was once upon a time an old man and an old woman, and they had two orphan grandchildren so lovely, gentle, and good, that the old man and the old woman could not love them enough. The old man once took it into his head to go out into the fields with his grandchildren to look at the peas, and they saw that their peas were growing splendidly. The old man rejoiced at the sight with his grandchildren, and said: “Well, now, you won’t find peas like that in the whole world! By and by we’ll make kisel1 out of it, and bake us some pea-cakes.” And next morning the grandfather sent the eldest grandchild, and said: “Go and drive away the sparrows from the peas!” The grandchild sat down beside the peas, shook a dry branch, and kept on saying, “Whish! whish! sparrows, ye have pecked at grandfather’s peas till you’re quite full!” And all at once she heard a rumbling and a roaring in the wood, and Verlioka came, huge of stature, with one eye, a hooked nose, ragged stubbly hair, moustaches half an ell long, swine’s bristles on his head, hobbling on one leg, in a wooden boot, leaning on a crutch, grinding all his teeth, and smiling. He went up to the pretty little grandchild, seized her and dragged her away with him behind the lake. The grandfather waited and waited, but there was no grandchild, and he sent his young grandson after her. Verlioka walked off with him also. The grandfather waited and waited, and said to his wife: “How very late our grandchildren are! I suppose they are running about there and idling their time away, or catching starlings with some lads or other, and meanwhile the sparrows are looting our peas! Go along, old woman, and teach them sense!” The old woman rose from the stove, took her stick from the corner, gave the pasties another turn, went away—and never came back. As soon as Verlioka saw her in the field, he cried: “What dost thou want here, old hag? Hast thou come hither to shell peas? Then I’ll make thee stand here among the peas for ever and ever!” Then he set to work belabouring her with his crutch, till little by little her very soul oozed out of her, and she lay upon the field more dead than alive.
The grandfather waited in vain for his grandchildren and his old wife, and began to scold at them: “Where on earth have they got to!” said he; “’tis a true saying that a man must expect no good from his ribs.” Then the old man himself made his way to the peas, and saw the old woman lying on the ground in such a battered condition that he scarcely knew her, and of his grandchildren there was no trace. The grandfather cried aloud, picked up the old woman, dragged her home by degrees, gradually brought her to with a little cold water, and she opened her eyes at last and told the grandfather who it was that had beaten her so, and dragged her grandchildren away from the field. The grandfather was very wroth with Verlioka, and said: “This is too much of a joke! Wait a bit, friend, we also have arms of our own! Look to thyself, Verlioka, and take care that I don’t twist thy moustaches for thee! Thou hast done this thing with thy hand, thou shalt pay for it with thy head!” And as the old grandmother did not hold him back, the grandfather seized his iron crutch and went off to seek Verlioka.
He went on and on till he came to a little pond, and in the pond was swimming a bob-tailed drake. He saw the grandfather and cried: “Tak, tak, tak!2 Live for a hundred years, old grandad! I have been waiting here for thee a long time!”—“Hail to thee also, drake! Why hast thou been awaiting me?”—“Well I know that thou art in quest of thy grandchildren, and art going to Verlioka to settle accounts with him!”—“And how dost thou come to know of this monster?”—“Tak, tak, tak!” screeched the drake, “I have good cause to know him, ’twas he who docked my tail!”—“Then canst thou show me his dwelling?”—“Tak, tak, tak!” screeched the drake; “here am I but a little tiny bird, but I’ll have my tail’s worth out of him, I know!”—“Wilt thou go on before and show me the way? I see thou hast a good noddle of thy own, though thou art bob-tailed!” Then the drake came out of the water and climbed up on the bank, waddling from side to side.
They went on and on, and they came upon a little bit of cord lying in the road, and it said, “Hail, little grandad wise-pate!”—“Hail, little cord!”—“Where dost thou dwell, and whither dost thou wander?”—“I live in such and such a place; I am going to pay off Verlioka; he has beaten my old woman and carried off my two grandchildren, and such splendid grandchildren too!”—“Take me that I may help!” The grandfather thought: “I may as well take it, it will do to hang Verlioka with.” Then he said to the little cord: “Come along with us, if thou dost know the way.” And the little cord wriggled after them just as if it were a little tapering snake.
They went on and on, and they saw lying in the road a little water-mill, and it said to them: “Hail, little grandad wise-pate!”—“Hail, little water-mill!”—“Where dost thou dwell, and whither dost thou wander?”—“I live in such and such a place, and I am going to settle accounts with Verlioka. Just fancy! he has beaten my old woman and carried off my grandchildren, and such splendid grandchildren too!”—“Take me with thee that I may help!” And the grandfather thought: “The water-mill may be of use too.” Then the water-mill raised itself up, pressed against the ground with its handle, and went along after the grandfather.
Again they went on and on, and in the road lay an acorn, and it said to them in a little squeaky voice: “Hail, grandad long-nose!”—“Hail, oakey acorn!”—“Whither art thou striding away like that?”—“I am going to beat Verlioka; dost know him?”—“I should think I did; take me with thee to help!”—“But how canst thou help?”—“Don’t spit in the well or thou wilt have to drink up the water thyself!” The grandfather thought to himself: “I may as well let him go!” So he said to the acorn: “Roll on behind then!” But that was a strange rolling, for the acorn leaped to its feet and frisked along in front of them all.
And they came into a thick forest, a forest most drear and dreadful, and in the forest stood a lonely little hut—oh! so lonely. There was no fire burning in the stove, and there stood there a furmenty-pottage for six. The acorn, who knew what he was about, immediately leaped into the pottage, the little cord stretched itself out on the threshold, the grandfather placed the little water-mill on the bench, the drake sat upon the stove, and the grandfather himself stood in the corner. Suddenly he heard a crashing and a trembling in the wood, and Verlioka came along on one leg, in a wooden boot, leaning on his crutch and smiling from ear to ear. Verlioka came up to the hut, threw down some fire-wood on the floor, and began to light the fire in the stove. But the acorn who was sitting in the pottage fell a-singing—
“Pee, pee, pee!
To beat Verlioka come we!”
Verlioka flew into a rage and seized the pot by the handle, but the handle broke, and all the pottage was scattered over the floor, and the acorn leaped out of the pot and flipped Verlioka in his one eye so that it was put out entirely. Verlioka fell a-shrieking, fought about the air with his arms, and would have made for the door; but where was the door? he could not see it! Then the little cord wound itself about his legs and he fell on the threshold, and the little water-mill on the top of him off the bench. Then the grandfather rushed out of the corner and pitched into him with his iron crutch, and the drake on the top of the stove screeched with all its might: “Tak, tak, tak! Pitch into him! pitch into him!” Neither his wrath nor his strength was of any good to Verlioka. The grandfather beat him to death with his iron crutch, and after that, destroyed his hut and laid bare the dungeon beneath it, and out of the dungeon he drew his grandchildren, and dragged all Verlioka’s riches home to his old woman. And so he lived and prospered with his old woman and his grandchildren, and plucked and ate his peas in peace and quietness. So there’s a skazka3 for you—and I deserve a cake or two also.