Old Peter's Russian Tales Part 18
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Prince Ivan patted the big black horse and whispered to it, and it leapt up high into the air and through the window, into the very courtyard of the castle.
"Stay here and play with me," said the little sister of the Sun; and Prince Ivan tumbled off the big black horse into her arms, and laughed because he was so happy.
Merry and pretty was the Sun's little sister, and she was very kind to little Prince Ivan. They played games together, and when she was tired she let him do whatever he liked and run about her castle. This way and that he ran about the battlements of rosy cloud, hanging in the sky over the end of the world.
But one day he climbed up and up to the topmost turret of the castle.
From there he could see the whole world. And far, far away, beyond the mountains, beyond the forests, beyond the wide plains, he saw his father's palace where he had been born. The roof of the palace was gone, and the walls were broken and crumbling. And little Prince Ivan came slowly down from the turret, and his eyes were red with weeping.
"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "why are your eyes so red?"
"It is the wind up there," says little Prince Ivan.
And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window of the castle of cloud and whispered to the winds not to blow so hard.
But next day little Prince Ivan went up again to that topmost turret, and looked far away over the wide world to the ruined palace. "She has eaten them all with her iron teeth," he said to himself. And his eyes were red when he came down.
"My dear," says the Sun's little sister, "your eyes are red again."
"It is the wind," says little Prince Ivan.
And the Sun's little sister put her head out of the window and scolded the wind.
But the third day again little Prince Ivan climbed up the stairs of cloud to that topmost turret, and looked far away to the broken palace where his father and mother had lived. And he came down from the turret with the tears running down his face.
"Why, you are crying, my dear!" says the Sun's little sister. "Tell me what it is all about."
So little Prince Ivan told the little sister of the Sun how his sister was a witch, and how he wept to think of his father and mother, and how he had seen the ruins of his father's palace far away, and how he could not stay with hen happily until he knew how it was with his parents.
"Perhaps it is not yet too late to save them from her iron teeth, though the old groom said that she would certainly eat them, and that it was the will of G.o.d. But let me ride back on my big black horse."
"Do not leave me, my dear," says the Sun's little sister. "I am lonely here by myself."
"I will ride back on my big black horse, and then I will come to you again."
"What must be, must," says the Sun's little sister; "though she is more likely to eat you than you are to save them. You shall go. But you must take with you a magic comb, a magic brush, and two apples of youth. These apples would make young once more the oldest things on earth."
Then she kissed little Prince Ivan, and he climbed up on his big black horse, and leapt out of the window of the castle down on the end of the world, and galloped off on his way back over the wide world.
He came to Mountain-t.o.s.s.e.r, the giant. There was only one mountain left, and the giant was just picking it up. Sadly he was picking it up, for he knew that when he had thrown it away his work would be done and he would have to die.
"Well, little Prince Ivan," says Mountain-t.o.s.s.e.r, "this is the end;"
and he heaves up the mountain. But before he could toss it away the little Prince threw his magic brush on the plain, and the brush swelled and burst, and there were range upon range of high mountains, touching the sky itself.
"Why," says Mountain-t.o.s.s.e.r, "I have enough mountains now to last me for another thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince."
And he set to work again, heaving up mountains and tossing them down, while little Prince Ivan galloped on across the wide world.
He came to Tree-rooter, the giant. There were only two of the great oaks left, and the giant had one in each hand.
"Ah me, little Prince Ivan," says Tree-rooter, "my life is come to its end; for I have only to pluck up these two trees and throw them down, and then I shall die."
"Pluck them up," says little Prince Ivan. "Here are plenty more for you." And he threw down his comb. There was a noise of spreading branches, of swis.h.i.+ng leaves, of opening buds, all together, and there before them was a forest of great oaks stretching farther than the giant could see, tall though he was.
"Why," says Tree-rooter, "here are enough trees to last me for another thousand years. Thank you kindly, little Prince."
And he set to work again, pulling up the big trees, laughing joyfully and hurling them over his head, while little Prince Ivan galloped on across the wide world.
He came to the two old women. They were crying their eyes out.
"There is only one needle left!" says the first.
"There is only one bit of thread in the box!" sobs the second.
"And then we shall die!" they say both together, mumbling with their old mouths.
"Before you use the needle and thread, just eat these apples," says little Prince Ivan, and he gives them the two apples of youth.
The two old women took the apples in their old shaking fingers and ate them, bent double, mumbling with their old lips. They had hardly finished their last mouthfuls when they sat up straight, smiled with sweet red lips, and looked at the little Prince with s.h.i.+ning eyes.
They had become young girls again, and their gray hair was black as the raven.
"Thank you kindly, little Prince," say the two young girls. "You must take with you the handkerchief we have been sewing all these years.
Throw it to the ground, and it will turn into a lake of water. Perhaps some day it will be useful to you."
"Thank you," says the little Prince, and off he gallops, on and on over the wide world.
He came at last to his father's palace. The roof was gone, and there were holes in the walls. He left his horse at the edge of the garden, and crept up to the ruined palace and peeped through a hole. Inside, in the great hall, was sitting a huge baby girl, filling the whole hall. There was no room for her to move. She had knocked off the roof with a shake of her head. And she sat there in the ruined hall, sucking her thumb.
And while Prince Ivan was watching through the hole he heard her mutter to herself,--
"_Eaten the father, eaten the mother, And now to eat the little brother_"
And she began shrinking, getting smaller and smaller every minute.
Little Prince Ivan had only just time to get away from the hole in the wall when a pretty little baby girl came running out of the ruined palace.
"You must be my little brother Ivan," she called out to him, and came up to him smiling. But as she smiled the little Prince saw that her teeth were black; and as she shut her mouth he heard them clink together like pokers.
"Come in," says she, and she took little Prince Ivan with her to a room in the palace, all broken down and cobwebbed. There was a dulcimer lying in the dust on the floor.
"Well, little brother," says the witch baby, "you play on the dulcimer and amuse yourself while I get supper ready. But don't stop playing, or I shall feel lonely." And she ran off and left him.
Little Prince Ivan sat down and played tunes on the dulcimer--sad enough tunes. You would not play dance music if you thought you were going to be eaten by a witch.
But while he was playing a little gray mouse came out of a crack in the floor. Some people think that this was the wise old groom, who had turned into a little gray mouse to save Ivan from the witch baby.
"Ivan, Ivan," says the little gray mouse, "run while you may. Your father and mother were eaten long ago, and well they deserved it. But be quick, or you will be eaten too. Your pretty little sister is putting an edge on her teeth!"
Little Prince Ivan thanked the mouse, and ran out from the ruined palace, and climbed up on the back of his big black horse, with its saddle and bridle trimmed with silver. Away he galloped over the wide world. The witch baby stopped her work and listened. She heard the music of the dulcimer, so she made sure he was still there. She went on sharpening her teeth with a file, and growing bigger and bigger every minute. And all the time the music of the dulcimer sounded among the ruins.
Old Peter's Russian Tales Part 18
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Old Peter's Russian Tales Part 18 summary
You're reading Old Peter's Russian Tales Part 18. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Arthur Ransome already has 559 views.
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