Part 15

"Whatever can have happened?" said Yelena to herself. "Who are my new guests and whence have they come? Why the strong iron paling which was better than a whole army of guards is broken and thrown to the ground." Then she put her haughty head out of the window and cried in a voice of heroic rage:

"Ho, there, guards and protectors! To my rescue! Put these intruders to a speedy and cruel death while I watch you at your work. Throw their carcases over the iron paling and bring their white gold-embroidered tents to me."

Then the hero who lived in the castle as the special protector of Yelena the Haughty Beauty, saddled his great steed and put on his battle armour, on which the morning sun shone brightly, and rode towards the unbidden guests, while the Princess watched from her lattice-window to see that her orders were strictly carried out.

Nikita sprang from his little shelter and stood boldly in the path of the horseman.

"Who goes?" he asked.

"Who asks?" was the angry reply.

Then Nikita sprang forward, and seizing the hero by the foot, dragged him from his horse. Raising his iron staff he gave him one all-sufficient blow and said, "Go now to Yelena the Haughty Beauty; tell her to hide her haughtiness and prepare to marry my master the Terrible Tsar without further delay."

Meanwhile the would-be bridegroom and his young men slept on.

The bold hero was glad enough to obey the brave wooer, and rode up to the castle, where he saluted his mistress with reverence and said:

"These are men whose might cannot be measured, O Princess. Their leader is plainly a man of great weight, and told me to bid you hide your haughtiness and prepare to marry the Terrible Tsar without further delay."

The lady looked down from the window, and as she looked her scorn seemed to wither up the hero, horse and all. Then she turned haughtily from the window, attired herself in her most beautiful garments, and went down to the great hall, where she summoned a band of generals and leaders.

"My brave men," she cried in tones of passionate anger, "get together a great array and sweep these intruders out of my lawn as the serving maids sweep the court before the great door."

Then quickly, very quickly, and with lightning speed, the horsemen rode forth from the castle and swept down with a sound of rushing water upon the tents of the Terrible Tsar. But they drew rein when Nikita stood before them waving his mighty staff; and quickly, very quickly, and with lightning speed, they fell and lay dead upon the green lawn.

Meanwhile the would-be bridegroom and his young men slept on.

"Go back," cried Nikita to the first hero, who had kept well out of reach of that terrible staff. "Go back to Yelena the Haughty Beauty and tell her not to resist us further. See how I have dealt with your men alone and all by myself! What will it be when the Terrible Tsar and his young men awake from sleep? We shall not leave one stone of your castle upon another. You would do well to go back and tell the bride to prepare for her wedding."

So the hero went back and told his mistress all that had happened.

"What is to be, must be," she said with outward graciousness. "I will go to meet this heroic bridegroom in a manner fitting to his warlike ways." So she summoned her heroic bodyguard, and, surrounded by these youths, who carried battle-bows in their hands, she walked proudly from the front door of the castle towards the tents of white linen standing upon her own green lawn.

Nikita saw them coming, and knew without instruction that the kiss of the bride would be sharp and stinging. So he put on the Cap of Darkness, bent his own bow, shot off a flaming shaft, and knocked off the top story of the castle. Yelena the Haughty Beauty bowed to her fate, advanced with stately step towards the Terrible Tsar, took him by the hand, and led him within the banquet-hall, where he and his company were feasted on the best. When his master had eaten well and drunk just as well, Nikita said in his ear, "Does the bride please you, or shall we set out to seek a better?"

"No, Nikita," said the Terrible Tsar with a smile of satisfaction, "let us not go on any more, for the whole white world cannot contain better fortune than is granted to us here."

"Well, then," said Nikita, "haste to your wedding, but beware of your bride." So the wedding was hastened, and when the feast was over the bride came to the bridegroom and laid her hand in affection upon his shoulder. But if this were affection it was heavy affection, for at the weight of her hand the Terrible Tsar felt as if he were being pushed down bodily into the lap of moist Mother Earth.

"Is my hand heavy, my lord and master?" asked the bride sweetly.

"It is as heavy as a feather on the bosom of the summer lake," was the polite reply. "But, stay, my bride. I have to give an order to my brave troops." Then with a great effort he freed himself, and went out into the next room where Nikita was awaiting him.

"Ah, Nikita," said the Terrible Tsar in great distress, "what shall I do? The hand of my bride is heavier than the staff of Ilya of Murom."

Then Nikita put on his Cap of Darkness and went back into the room with the Terrible Tsar, and as often as Yelena laid her hand upon his master in affection, he stepped in the way and bore the weight of it. So they went on all the time that the Terrible Tsar stayed in the castle for the wedding festivity, which lasted for a week. But before the week was over Yelena the Haughty Beauty knew that her people were laughing at her because she had married a man whose strength was as nothing but who relied always upon Nikita; and she planned in her heart a terrible revenge.

"We have feasted enough," said the Terrible Tsar at the end of the festival week. "It is time for us to go homeward and we shall go by water."

So a glorious ship was prepared, and the bridal party went on board. The sails were set, and the ship put out from the harbour with a fair wind and a bright sun. The Terrible Tsar was very happy in his good fortune, but the haughty bride made merry to his face and plotted behind his back. As for Nikita he fell into a heroic sleep and slept for twelve whole days and nights.

When Yelena saw him sleeping she summoned her trusty bodyguard and ordered them to cut off his legs to the knee, put him all maimed into a boat, and cast it out upon the open sea. They did so; and on the thirteenth day Nikita awoke from his heroic sleep to find himself lying footless in an open boat far out upon the sea with no ship in sight anywhere.

Meanwhile the bridal ship sailed on its way with a fair wind and a bright sun, and at last it entered the harbour of the royal city of the Terrible Tsar. Then the cannon gave the sign, and the people ran down to the wharves, where the nobles and the chief merchants, with the Elder at their head, offered bread and salt to their royal master, and greeted him with compliments on his marriage with a bride so beautiful and so stately. And the Terrible Tsar was so busy for a long time in feasting and smiling, giving presents and receiving them, that he forgot all about Nikita.

But when the feast was over the haughty bride took the rule of the kingdom upon herself, and forced the Terrible Tsar to go out into the fields to herd the pigs! Then she gave orders that all the relatives of Nikita should be brought before her at the royal palace. Her soldiers found only one, Timothy, the brother of Nikita, and by order of the Terrible Tsaritza his eyes were put out and he was driven from the town into the green fields.

The blind man went on with his hands spread out before him, onward and ever onward until he came to the seashore and found the water beneath his feet. Then he halted and stood still, fearing to go forward. But as he stood there with his sightless eyes turned towards the heaving waters of the deep blue sea a boat was quickly borne towards the beach and a cheery voice called out: "Ho, good fellow! Help me to land in your fine country."

"I would gladly do so, friend," was the sad reply, "but, truth to tell, I am without sight and see nothing."

"But who are you and whence do you come?" asked Nikita.

"I am Timothy, the brother of Nikita," said the blind man, "whose eyes have been darkened by Yelena the Haughty Beauty."

"My own and very true brother," said Nikita cheerily. "Turn, Timothy, to the right hand where you will find a tall oak growing. Pull out the oak, bring it here, and stretch it from the shore across the water. Then I will mount upon it and so come to you in safety."

Timothy did as his brother directed and made a bridge of the tall oak so that Nikita could creep on shore, where he took Timothy in his arms and kissed him heartily.

"Ah, brother," he said, "how is it now with the Terrible Tsar?"

"He found his bride," said Timothy, "and she is indeed ruddier than the sun, fairer than the moon, and whiter than snow, but her heart is as black as night. The Terrible Tsar is now in great misfortune for he is herding his own pigs in the field! Each morning he has for breakfast a pound of sour bread, a jug of frozen water, and three stripes upon his back!"

"Alas," said Nikita. "We now have indeed a Terrible Tsaritza."

Then the two brothers began to discuss their present condition and their future plans, and of course Nikita was full of ideas. "Brother of mine," he said brightly, "you cannot see my condition so I must tell you that I am footless. Now as you are blind it seems to me that there is only one sound man between us. My plan is that you should carry me upon your back while I will tell you where to go."

"It is well," said the blind man, kneeling down at once so that his brother could get upon his back. Then he walked onward with his new burden, onward and ever onward, turning to the right hand or to the left as his brother directed him. After a long time they came to a dense forest in which stood the pine-wood cabin of the wicked Baba-Yaga.

Nikita directed his brother towards this hut, and the two in one entered the home of the wicked Baba-Yaga, but found no one inside. "Feel in the oven, brother," said Nikita, "perhaps there is some food there." Sure enough they found hot savoury food in the oven and they sat down to the table and had a good meal, for the sea air had made them both very hungry. When they were fully satisfied Nikita asked his brother to carry him round the cabin in order that he might examine everything that was to be found in it. On the window-sill he found a small whistle, and, putting this to his lips, began to blow. The shrill sound had a marvellous effect, for, whether he would or would not, Timothy began to dance, the cabin also began to dance, the table danced, the chairs danced, and even the stove took to its nimble feet.

"Stop, Nikita," cried Timothy at last, for he was utterly exhausted, "I can no longer dance with such a burden upon my back." So Nikita stopped whistling, and as the last note died away everything settled down in quiet once again. Then when all was still the door was suddenly opened and the wicked Baba-Yaga entered her cottage.

When she saw the two in one she screamed out with a loud voice:

"You beggars and thieves! Up to this time not even a bird or a beast had come to my lonely dwelling, and now you have come to devour my food and loosen the very props of my little cottage. But very soon, and indeed sooner than that, I will settle with you."

"Hold the wicked old witch, Timothy," cried Nikita, and the blind man caught her in his arms and squeezed her very hard. Then Nikita seized her by the hair, and she was ready enough to make all kinds of promises to win her freedom.

"We want nothing," said Nikita, who had still more ideas in his head, "but your whistle and healing and living water. I have the whistle already, and if you will give us the water, you shall go free once more into the white world."

"That I can, and will since I must," said the Baba-Yaga.

"That you shall and are obliged to," replied Nikita.

Then the old witch led them to two springs and said:

"Here for your benefit is healing and living water." Nikita took of the healing water and sprinkled his stumps, whereupon his feet grew out as they had been before, but they would not move. So he sprinkled them next with living water, and they were made sound and whole as they had been before.

Guided by his brother, the blind man stooped to the spring of healing water and bathed the hollow sockets of his eyes. Then eyeballs came into them as they had been before, but they could not see. So he sprinkled them next with living water and they were made sound and useful as they had been before.

The brothers thanked the wicked Baba-Yaga and gave her a gift in exchange for her help and her whistle of which Nikita had need, but she grunted and said, "I could, and I would, and I did because I must." Then she went off to her cottage and the restored men took their way to the city of the Terrible Tsar for Nikita had another bright idea. In a field outside the palace they found the Terrible Tsar herding pigs, whereupon Nikita began to blow on the whistle and the pigs began to dance, for their ancestors had come from the herd of the wicked Baba-Yaga. Yelena the Haughty Beauty saw what was happening from the window, but she did not laugh, for she was not a woman of that kind. She only rose in all her haughty beauty and gave a stern command to her servants to take a bunch of rods and beat the pig-herd and the two strangers who were standing near him. At once the guards ran out and brought them to the castle to give them the punishment they deserved for their lack of gravity. This was just what Nikita desired, for he ran forward and seizing Yelena by her lily-white hands in a grasp no man or woman could ever resist, he cried:

"Now, Terrible Tsar, what shall I do with the Terrible Tsaritza?"

"Send her home," said the poor worried monarch, "out of my sight." So they sent her away to her own castle, where she spent all her time in admiring her beauty in the mirror until she died of dulness. But Nikita was made chief minister, and Timothy a general, and the Terrible Tsar did whatever they wished him to do from that day forward.

PEERLESS BEAUTY THE CAKE-BAKER

In a far-off land lived a Tsar and a Tsaritza who had one son, whom they named Ivan. They were very glad when he was born, and placed him in a beautiful oaken cradle among pillows of the softest down, covering him with a little eider-down quilt of silk from Samarcand. The pillow on which rested his little head was ornamented with drawn-thread work and all was cosy and comfortable, but try as they would the nurse-maidens--and they were pretty ladies of the highest degree--could not rock Ivan Tsarevich to sleep. Softly they sang and sweetly they crooned, but the young prince roared lustily, tossed off the coverlet, kicked out the pillow, and beat the sides of the cradle with his little fists.

At last the nurse-maidens lost all patience and they cried out to the Tsar, "Little Father, Little Father, come and rock your own son." So the Tsar sat down by the side of the cradle, placed his great toe upon the rocker, and said:

"Sleep, little son, sleep, sleep, sleep. Soon you will be a man, and then I will get you Peerless Beauty as a bride. She is the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers."

He made this promise once only, and it had such a soothing effect upon the restless Tsarevich that he went to sleep and continued sleeping for three days and three nights, during which time the nurse-maidens sat and praised his beauty among themselves. But they ceased talking as soon as he woke up again, for now he cried more loudly than ever, tossed off the coverlet, kicked out the pillow, and beat the sides of the cradle with his little fists.

Once again the nurse-maidens tried to console him and to rock him to sleep, for they loved and admired him best in his slumbers; but he refused to sleep, and they were forced to call out, "Little Father, Little Father, come and rock your own son."

The Tsar came once more to the cradle of his son and made the wonderful promise, whereupon the child fell asleep again and slept for three days and three nights.

But when he woke up he was as naughty as before, and for a third time the nurse-maidens had to call in the help of the Little Father.

When the Tsarevich awoke the third time he stood upon his cradle and said, "Bless me, Little Father, for I am going to my wedding."

"My dear son," said the Tsar in great wonderment, "you are altogether only nine days old. How can you marry?"

"That shall be as it is," said the Tsarevich, "and if you will not give me your blessing I fear I must marry without it."

"Well, well," said the Tsar, "may all good go with you." Then he was not in the least surprised to see his son step down from the cradle a full-grown youth of goodly shape, call for clothes suitable to his age--they were all ready to hand--and then go forth to the stable. On the way across the courtyard he met an old man who looked at him and said:

"Young man, where are you going?"

"Mind your own business," said the young prince. But when he had gone forward a little he stopped and said to himself, "That was a mistake. Old people know many useful things." So he turned again and went after the old man.

"Stop, stop, grandfather," he said, "what was the question which you put to me?"

"I asked you," said the ancient, "where you were going, and now I add to my question. Are you going there of your own free will or against your will?"

"I am going of my own free will," said the Tsarevich, "and twice as much against my will. I was in my cradle when my father came to me and promised to get me Peerless Beauty as a bride. She is the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers. So I suppose I must go to seek her."

"You are a courteous youth," said the old man, "and deserve to take advantage of the knowledge of the aged. You cannot go on foot to seek out Peerless Beauty, for she lives at the edge of the white world at the place where the sun peeps up. It is called the Golden Kingdom of the East."

"What shall I do?" asked the Tsarevich, thrusting his hands into his belt and standing with feet wide apart. "I have no horse of mettle or whip of silk for such a ride."

"Why, your father has thirty horses of the best," said the old man, "and the trouble with you will be to make a wise choice. Go to the stables and tell the grooms to take the thirty to bathe in the deep blue sea. When they come to the shore you will see one of them push forward into the water up to its neck and drink. When this happens watch with care to see if the waves rise high and break in foam upon the beach. If so, take that horse, for it will bear you safely to the edge of the white world and to the place where the sun peeps up, which is called the Golden Kingdom of the East."

"Thanks and thanks again, good grandfather," said the Tsarevich, who went on to the stables and selected his heroic steed in the manner described by the old man. On the following morning the Tsarevich was preparing this horse for the journey when it turned its head and spoke to him in the speech of Holy Russia:

"Ivan Tsarevich," it said, "fall down upon the lap of moist Mother Earth and I will push you three times." The youth was so much astonished to hear the horse speak that he found it no difficult matter to fall down. Then the horse pushed him once and pushed him a second time, but after that it looked at the youth for a little time and said, "That will suffice, for if I push you a third time moist Mother Earth will not be able to bear you." So the Tsarevich rose to his feet, saddled his horse, and set out. His father and those about him saw him as he mounted, but they did not see him as he rode. It was only a smoke wreath on the open boundless plain and he was gone. Far, far away he rode until the day grew short and the long night came on. As the darkness fell the rider came to a house as large as a town, with rooms each as big as a village. At the great door he got down from his horse and tied the bridle to a copper ring in the door-post. Then he went into the first room and said to an old woman whom he found there:

"May God be good to this house. I should be glad to be permitted to spend the night here."

"Where are you journeying?" asked the old woman.

"That is not the first question," said the Tsarevich. "Give me food to eat and wine to drink, then put me next into a warm sleeping chamber. In the morning ask me whether I have slept in peace and then ask where I may be journeying." And the old woman did so, just as the Tsarevich had said.

Next morning she asked him the second question and he replied, "I was in my cradle when my father came to me and promised to get me Peerless Beauty as a bride. She is the daughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers."

"Good youth," said the old woman, "I am nearly seventy years of age, but of Peerless Beauty I have never heard. But farther on the way lives my elder sister. Perhaps she knows." Then Ivan Tsarevich went out of the great house, and, after taking courteous leave of the old woman, rode far away across the open steppe. All day he rode, and as night was coming on he came to a second house as large as a town, with each room as large as a village. He dismounted from his horse, tied the bridle to a silver ring in the door-post, and asked an old woman whom he met in the first room if he might have a night's lodging. And here it happened as it had happened before, only the old woman was eighty years of age.

"Farther on the road," she said, "lives my elder sister and she has givers of answers. The first givers of answers are the fishes and other dwellers in the heaving restless sea; the second givers of answers are the wild beasts of the dark forests; and the third givers of answers are the birds of the open air. Whatever is in the whole white world is obedient to the will of my elder sister."

Once again Ivan Tsarevich set out and came to a house where he tied his horse to a golden ring, and was received by an old, old woman who screamed at him in a voice like a flock of peacocks:

"O you man of boldness, why have you tied your horse to a golden ring when an iron ring would be too good for you?"

"Patience, good grandmother," said the Tsarevich gently, "it is easy to loose the bridle and tie the horse to another ring."

"Ah, my good youth," said the old woman gently, and as one would speak to a child, "did I frighten you? Sit down now on the bench and take food and drink." Ivan did so, and then without being asked he told the old woman where he was going and what was his quest.

"Go to your rest," she said shortly. "In the morning I will call my givers of answers."

Next morning the old woman and the young man sat in the porch, and the former gave a heroic whistle, whereupon the blue sea heaved in a great heap, and the fishes, large and small, sea-serpents and sea-dragons, rose upon the surface and made for the shore.

"Come no farther," said the old woman, raising her right hand. "Tell me where this good youth can find Peerless Beauty." Then the answer came from a million mouths, "We have not seen or heard of her."

The old woman blew her whistle and the forests echoed to the sound of a million voices of wild beasts, but the answer to her question was, "We have not seen or heard of her."

"Come hither," said the grandmother, "all ye birds of the air." And in a moment the light of the sun was hidden and the sound of flapping wings was like a tempest. But the answer of the birds to the question was, "We have not seen or heard of her."