Part 8

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 skazka [37] for you--and I deserve a cake or two also.

THE FROG-TSAREVNA.

In a certain kingdom, in a certain Empire, there lived a Tsar with his Tsaritsa, and he had three sons, all of them young, valiant, and unwedded, the like of whom is not to be told in tales nor written by pens, and the youngest of them was called the Tsarevich Ivan. And the Tsar spoke these words to them: "My dear children, take unto you your darts, gird on your well-spanned bows, and go hence in different directions, and in whatsoever courts your arrows fall, there choose ye your brides!" The elder brother discharged his arrow and it fell into a boyar's [38] court, right in front of the terem [39] of the maidens. The second brother discharged his arrow, and it flew into the court of a merchant and remained sticking in a beautiful balcony, and on this balcony was standing a lovely young maiden soul, the merchant's daughter. The youngest brother discharged his arrow, and the arrow fell in a muddy swamp, and a quacking-frog seized hold of it.

The Tsarevich Ivan said to his father: "How can I ever take this quacker to wife? A quacker is not my equal!"--"Take her!" replied his father, "'tis thy fate to have her!" So the Tsareviches all got married--the eldest to the boyar's daughter, the second to the merchant's daughter, and the youngest to the quacking-frog. And the Tsar called them to him and said: "Let your wives, to-morrow morning, bake me soft white bread." The Tsarevich Ivan returned home, and he was not happy, and his impetuous head hung down lower than his shoulders. "Qua, qua! Ivan the Tsarevich! wherefore art thou so sad?" asked the Frog. "Or hast thou heard unpleasant words from thy father the Tsar?"--"Why should I not be sad? my father and sovereign lord hath commanded thee to bake soft white bread to-morrow."--"Do not afflict thyself, O Tsarevich! lie down and rest, the morning is wiser than the evening." She made the Tsarevich lie down and rest, cast her frog-skin, and turned into a maiden soul, Vasilisa Premudraya, [40] went out upon her beautiful balcony, and cried with a piercing voice: "Nurseys--nurseys! assemble, set to work and make me soft white bread such as I myself used to eat at my dear father's!" In the morning the Tsarevich Ivan awoke, the frog had got the bread ready long ago, and it was so splendid that the like of it is neither to be imagined nor guessed at, but is only to be told of in tales. The loaves were adorned with various cunning devices, royal cities were modelled on the sides thereof, with moats and ditches. The Tsar praised the Tsarevich Ivan greatly because of his bread, and gave this command to his three sons: "Let your wives weave me a carpet in a single night." The Tsarevich Ivan returned home, and he was sad, and his impetuous head hung lower than his shoulders. "Qua! qua! Tsarevich Ivan! wherefore art thou so sad? Or hast thou heard cruel, unfriendly words from thy father the Tsar?"--"Have I not cause to grieve? My father and sovereign lord commands thee to weave him a silk carpet in a single night!"--"Fret not, Tsarevich! come, lay thee down and sleep, the morning is wiser than the evening!" Then she made him lie down to sleep, threw off her frog-skin, and turned into the lovely maiden soul, Vasilisa Premudraya, went forth upon her beautiful balcony, and cried with a piercing voice: "Nurseys--nurseys! assemble, set to work and weave me a silk carpet such as I was wont to sit upon at my dear father's!" No sooner said than done. In the morning the Tsarevich Ivan awoke, and the frog had had the carpet ready long ago, and it was such a wondrous carpet that the like of it can only be told of in tales, but may neither be imagined nor guessed at. The carpet was adorned with gold and silver and with divers bright embroiderings. The Tsar greatly praised the Tsarevich Ivan for his carpet, and there and then gave the new command that all three Tsareviches were to appear before him on the morrow to be inspected together with their wives. Again the Tsarevich Ivan returned home and he was not happy, and his impetuous head hung lower than his shoulders. "Qua! qua! Tsarevich Ivan! wherefore art thou grieved? Or hast thou heard words unkind from thy father the Tsar?"--"Have I not cause to be sad? My father and sovereign lord has commanded me to appear before him with thee to-morrow! How can I show thee to people?"--"Fret not, Tsarevich! Go alone to the Tsar and pay thy visit, and I will come after thee. The moment you hear a rumbling and a knocking, say: 'Hither comes my dear little Froggy in her little basket!'" And behold the elder brothers appeared, to be inspected with their richly-attired and splendidly-adorned consorts. There they stood and laughed at the Tsarevich Ivan and said: "Why, brother! why hast thou come hither without thy wife? Why thou mightest have brought her with thee in a kitchen clout. And where didst thou pick up such a beauty? I suppose thou didst search through all the swamps fairly?" Suddenly there was a great rumbling and knocking, the whole palace shook. The guests were all terribly frightened and rushed from their places, and knew not what to do with themselves, but the Tsarevich Ivan said: "Fear not, gentlemen! 'tis only my little Froggy coming in her little basket!" And then a golden coach drawn by six horses flew up to the steps of the Tsar's balcony, and out of it stepped Vasilisa Premudraya; such a beauty as is only to be told of in tales, but can neither be imagined nor guessed at. The Tsarevich Ivan took her by the hand and led her behind the oaken table, behind the embroidered table-cloth. The guests began to eat and drink and make merry. Vasilisa Premudraya drank wine, but the dregs of her cup she poured behind her left sleeve; she ate also of the roast swan, but the bones thereof she concealed behind her right sleeve. The wives of the elder brothers watched these devices, and took care to do the same. Afterwards when Vasilisa Premudraya began dancing with the Tsarevich Ivan, she waved her left hand and a lake appeared; she waved her right hand and white swans were swimming in the water; the Tsar and his guests were astonished. And now the elder brides began dancing. They waved their left hands and all the guests were squirted with water; they waved their right hands and the bones flew right into the Tsar's eyes. The Tsar was wroth, and drove them from court with dishonour.

Now one day the Tsarevich Ivan waited his opportunity, ran off home, found the frog-skin, and threw it into a great fire. Vasilisa Premudraya duly arrived, missed her frog-skin, was sore troubled, fell a-weeping, and said to the Tsarevich: "Alas! Tsarevich Ivan! what hast thou done? If thou hadst but waited for a little, I should have been thine for ever more, but now farewell! Seek for me beyond lands thrice-nine, in the Empire of Thrice-ten, at the house of Koshchei Bezsmertny." [41] Then she turned into a white swan and flew out of the window.

The Tsarevich Ivan wept bitterly, turned to all four points of the compass and prayed to God, and went straight before his eyes. He went on and on, whether it was near or far, or long or short, matters not, when there met him an old, old man. "Hail, good youth!" said he, "what dost thou seek, and whither art thou going?" The Tsarevich told him all his misfortune. "Alas! Tsarevich Ivan, why didst thou burn that frog-skin? Thou didst not make, nor shouldst thou therefore have done away with it. Vasilisa Premudraya was born wiser and more cunning than her father; he was therefore angry with her, and bade her be a frog for three years. Here is a little ball for thee, follow it whithersoever it rolls." Ivan the Tsarevich thanked the old man, and followed after the ball. He went along the open plain, and there met him a bear. "Come now!" thought the Tsarevich Ivan, "I will slay this beast." But the bear implored him: "Slay me not, Tsarevich Ivan, I may perchance be of service to thee somehow." He went on further, and lo! behind them came waddling a duck. The Tsarevich bent his bow; he would have shot the bird, when suddenly she greeted him with a human voice: "Slay me not, Ivan Tsarevich! I also may befriend thee!" He had compassion on her, and went on further, and a hare darted across their path. The Tsarevich again laid an arrow on his bow and took aim, but the hare greeted him with a human voice: "Slay me not, Tsarevich Ivan! I also will befriend thee!" Ivan the Tsarevich had pity upon him, and went on further to the blue sea, and behold! on the beach lay gasping a pike. "Alas! Tsarevich Ivan!" sighed the pike, "have pity on me and cast me into the sea." And he cast it into the sea, and went on along the shore. The ball rolled a short way, and it rolled a long way, and at last it came to a miserable hut; the hut was standing on hen's legs and turning round and round. The Tsarevich Ivan said to it: "Little hut, little hut! stand the old way as thy mother placed thee, with thy front to me, and thy back to the sea!" And the little hut turned round with its front to him, and its back to the sea. The Tsarevich entered in, and saw the bony-legged Baba-Yaga lying on the stove, on nine bricks, and grinding her teeth.--"Hillo! good youth, why dost thou visit me?" asked the Baba-Yaga.--"Fie, thou old hag! thou call'st me a good youth, but thou shouldst first feed and give me to drink, and prepare me a bath, then only shouldst thou ask me questions." The Baba-Yaga fed him and gave him to drink, and made ready a bath for him, and the Tsarevich told her he was seeking his wife, Vasilisa Premudraya. "I know," said the Baba-Yaga, "she is now with Koshchei Bezsmertny. 'Tis hard to get thither, and it is not easy to settle accounts with Koshchei. His death depends upon the point of a needle, that needle is in a hare, that hare is in a coffer, that coffer is on the top of a high oak, and Koshchei guards that tree as the apple of his eye." The Baba-Yaga then showed him in what place that oak grew; the Tsarevich Ivan went thither, but did not know what to do to get at the coffer. Suddenly, how who can tell, the bear rushed at the tree and tore it up by the roots, the coffer fell and was smashed to pieces, the hare leaped out, and with one bound had taken cover. But look! the other hare bounded off in pursuit, hunted him down and tore him to bits; out of the hare flew a duck and rose high, high in the air, but the other duck dashed after her, and struck her down, whereupon the duck laid an egg, and the egg fell into the sea. The Tsarevich Ivan, seeing the irreparable loss of the egg, burst into tears, when suddenly the pike came swimming ashore holding the egg between its teeth. He took the egg, broke it, drew out the needle and broke off its little point. Then he attacked Koshchei, who struggled hard, but wriggle about as he might he had to die at last. Then the Tsarevich Ivan went into the house of Koshchei, took out Vasilisa Premudraya, and returned home. After that they lived together for a long, long time, and were very, very happy.

THE TWO SONS OF IVAN THE SOLDIER.

There once dwelt in a certain kingdom a peasant. The time came when they enlisted him as a soldier; he had to quit his wife, and as he bade her good-bye, he said to her, "Hearken, wife! live honestly; flout not good people; do not let our little hut fall to pieces, but keep house wisely, and await my return. If God permit it, I will come back and leave the service. Here are fifty rubles!--whether a little son or a little daughter be born to thee matters not; keep the money till the child grows up. If it be a daughter, wed her to the bridegroom whom God may provide; but if God give thee a son, and he arrive at years of discretion, this money will be of no little help to him." Then he took leave of his wife, and went to the wars whither he was bidden. Three months passed, and the wife gave birth to twin sons, and she called them the sons of Ivan the soldier. The youngsters grew up betimes; like wheaten dough mixed with yeast they shot up broad and high. When they reached their tenth year their mother gave them instruction, and they quickly learned their letters, and the children of the boyars and the children of the merchants could not hold a candle to them; no one could read aloud, or write, or answer questions so well as they. The two sons of Ivan the soldier thus grew up, and they asked their mother, "Mother, dear! did not our father leave us some money? If there be any, let us have it, and we'll take it to the fair and buy us a good horse apiece." Their mother gave them the fifty rubles, twenty-five to each brother, and said to them, "Hearken, children, as ye go to the town, give a bow to every one you come across."--"Good, dear mother."

So the brothers hied them off to the town, and went to the horse-market. There were many horses there, but they chose none of them, for they were not good enough mounts for the good brothers. So one of the brothers said to the other: "Let us go to the other end of the square; look how the people are all running together there. There is something strange going on." Thither they went and joined the crowd; and there stood two mares tied to stout oaken posts with iron clamps; one with six clamps, and the other with twelve clamps. The horses were tugging at their chains, gnawing their bits, and digging up the ground with their hoofs. No one was able to go near them. "What is the price of thy mares?" asked Ivan, the soldier's son, of the owner. "Don't thrust thy nose in here, friend!--such mares are not for the like of thee. Ask no more about them!"--"How dost thou know what I am? Maybe I'll buy them, but I must first look at their teeth." The horse-dealer smiled: "Look out for your heads, that's all!" One of the brothers then drew near to the mare that was fastened by six clamps, and the other brother to the mare that was fastened by twelve. They tried to look at the horses' teeth, but how was it to be done? The mares rose on their hind legs and pawed the air. Then the brothers struck them in the breast with their knees; the chains which held the horses burst, and the mares flew up into the air five fathoms high, and fell down with their legs uppermost. "Well!" cried the brothers, "that's not much to boast of. We would not take such horses at a gift." The crowd cried "Oh!" and was amazed. "What strong and stalwart heroes are these?" The horse-dealer was almost in tears. The mares galloped all over the town, and made off over the wide steppe; nobody dared approach them, and nobody knew how to catch them. The sons of Ivan the soldier were sorry for the horse-dealer. They went out into the open steppe, cried with a piercing voice and whistled lustily, and the mares came running back and stood in their proper place as if they had been nailed there. Then the good youths put the iron chains upon them again, and tied them to the oaken posts, and bound them tightly. This they did, and then they went homewards. As they were going along there met them an old graybeard. They forgot what their mother had told them, and passed him by without greeting him. Suddenly one of them recollected himself and cried: "Oh, brother! what have we done? We never gave that old man a bow; let us run after him and bow to him!" They ran after the old man, took off their little caps, bowed to the very girdle, and said, "Forgive us, dear little father, for passing thee by without a greeting. Our mother straightly charged us to pay honour to every one we met in the way."--"Thanks, good youths! whither is God leading you?"--"We have been to the town fair; we wanted to buy us a good horse apiece, but there are none there which please us."--"Why, how's that? Suppose now that I were to give you a little nag apiece?"--"Ah! little father, we would then always pray to God for thee!"--"Well, come with me."--The old man led them to a huge mountain, opened two cast-iron doors, and brought out two horses of heroic breed. "Here, take your horses and depart in God's name, good youths, and may ye prosper with them!" They thanked him, mounted and galloped home; reached the courtyard, bound their horses to a post, and entered the hut. Their mother then began, and asked them: "Well, my dear children, have you bought yourselves a little nag apiece?"--"We have not bought them with money, but got them as a gift."--"Where have you left them?"--"We put them beside the hut."--"Alas! my children, look if any one has taken them away."--"Nay, dear mother, such horses are not taken away. No one could lead them, and there's no getting near them!" The mother went out, looked at the horses, and burst into tears. "Well, my dear sons, ye are surely never those whom I have nourished."

The next day the sons begged their mother to let them go into the town to buy them a sword apiece. "Go, my children!" Then they got them ready, went to the smith's, entered the master's house, and said: "Make us a couple of swords!"--"Why should I make them when they are ready made? Take whichever you like best."--"No, friend, we want swords which weigh ten puds [42] each."--"What are you thinking of? Who would be able to wield a machine like that? You'll find such swords nowhere." So there was nothing for the good youths to do but return homewards with hanging heads. As they were on their way the same old man met them again. "Hail, young men!"--"Hail, dear little father!"--"Whence do you come?"--"From town, from the smith's. We wanted to buy two Damascus blades, and there were none that suited our hands."--"How stupid! Suppose now I were to give you a sword apiece?"--"Ah, dear little father, in that case we would pray to God for thee for evermore." The old man led them to the huge mountain, opened the cast-iron door, and drew out two heroic swords. The brothers took them, thanked the old man, and their hearts were merry and joyful. They came home, and their mother asked them: "Well, my children, have you bought yourselves a sword apiece?"--"We have not bought them for money, but got them as a gift."--"And what have you done with them?"--"We have placed them beside the hut."--"Take care lest some one take them away."--"Nay, dear mother, nobody will take them away, for it is impossible to even carry them." The mother went out into the courtyard and looked; the two heavy, heroic swords were leaning against the wall, the hut was scarce able to bear the weight of them. The old woman burst into tears and said: "Well, my dear sons, ye are surely never those whom I have nourished."

The next morning the sons of Ivan the soldier saddled their good horses, took their heroic blades, went into the hut, prayed to God, and took leave of the mother who bore them. "Bless us, dear little mother, for a long journey is before us."--"My irremovable, motherly blessing be upon you. Go, in God's name. Show yourselves, and see the world. Offend none without cause, and follow not evil ways."--"Be not afraid, dear mother; our motto is, 'When I eat I don't whistle, and when I bite I don't let go.'" Then the good youths mounted their horses and rode off. Whither they went, near or far, long or short, the tale is soon told, but the deed is not soon done; anyhow, they came to a cross-way where stood two pillars. On one pillar was written, "Who goes to the right will become a Tsar," and on the other pillar was written, "Who goes to the left will become a corpse." The brothers stood still, read the inscriptions, and fell a-thinking: "Whichever way shall we go? If we both go to the right, there will not be honour and glory enough for the heroic strength and youthful prowess of us both; but nobody wants to go to the left and die." And one brother said to the other: "Look now, dear brother, I am stronger than thou; let me go a little on the left to see how death can get hold of me. But thou go to the right, and perchance God will make thee a Tsar." Then they took leave of each other, and each gave to the other a little piece of cloth, and they made this compact--each was to go his own way and place posts along the road, and write on these posts everything concerning himself as a mark and guide; every morning each of them was to wipe his face with his brother's cloth, and if blood appeared on the cloth it would mean that death had befallen his brother, and in such a calamity he was to hasten back to seek his dead. So the good youths parted in different directions. He who turned his horse to the right came to a splendid kingdom. In this kingdom dwelt a Tsar and his Tsaritsa, and they had a daughter called the thrice-beautiful Tsarevna Nastasia. The Tsar beheld the son of the soldier Ivan, loved him for his knightly valour, and without beating about the bush, gave him his daughter as a consort, called him the Tsarevich Ivan, and bade him rule over the whole kingdom. The Tsarevich Ivan lived right merrily, loved his wife dearly, gave good laws to his kingdom, and diverted himself with the pleasures of the chase.