Cossack Fairy Tales and Folk Tales Part 9

There was once upon a time a lark who was the Tsar among the birds, and he took unto himself as his Tsaritsa a little shrew-mouse. They had a field all to themselves, which they sowed with wheat, and when the wheat grew up they divided it between them, when they found that there was one grain over! The mouse said, "Let me have it!" But the lark said, "No, let me have it!"--"What's to be done?" thought they.

They would have liked to take counsel of some one, but they had no parents or kinsmen, n.o.body at all to whom they could go and ask advice in the matter. At last the mouse said, "At any rate, let me have the first nibble!" The lark Tsar agreed to this; but the little mouse fastened her teeth in it and ran off into her hole with it, and there ate it all up. At this the Tsar lark was wrath, and collected all the birds of the air to make war upon the mouse Tsaritsa; but the Tsaritsa called together all the beasts to defend her, and so the war began.

Whenever the beasts came rus.h.i.+ng out of the wood to tear the birds to pieces, the birds flew up into the trees; but the birds kept in the air, and hacked and pecked the beasts wherever they could. Thus they fought the whole day, and in the evening they lay down to rest. Now when the Tsaritsa looked around upon her forces, she saw that the ant was taking no part in the war. She immediately went and commanded the ant to be there by evening, and when the ant came, the Tsaritsa ordered her to climb up the trees with her kinsmen and bite off the feathers round the birds' wings.

Next day, when there was light enough to see by, the mouse Tsaritsa cried, "Up, up, my warriors!" Thereupon the birds also rose up, and immediately fell to the ground, where the beasts tore them to bits. So the Tsaritsa overcame the Tsar. But there was one eagle who saw there was something wrong, so he did not try to fly, but remained sitting on the tree. And lo! there came an archer along that way, and seeing the eagle on the tree, he took aim at it; but the eagle besought him and said, "Do not kill me, and I'll be of great service to thee!" The archer aimed a second time, but the eagle besought him still more and said, "Take me down rather and keep me, and thou shalt see that it will be to thy advantage." The archer, however, took aim a third time, but the eagle began to beg of him most piteously, "Nay, kill me not, but take me home with thee, and thou shalt see what great advantage it will be to thee!" The archer believed the bird. He climbed up the tree, took the eagle down, and carried it home. Then the eagle said to him, "Put me in a hut, and feed me with flesh till my wings have grown again."

Now this archer had two cows and a steer, and he at once killed and cut up one of the cows for the eagle. The eagle fed upon this cow for a full year, and then he said to the archer, "Let me go, that I may fly. I see that my wings have already grown again!" Then the archer let him loose from the hut. The eagle flew round and round, he flew about for half a day, and then he returned to the archer and said, "I feel I have but little strength in me, slay me another cow!" And the archer obeyed him, and slew the second cow, and the eagle lived upon that for yet another year. Again the eagle flew round and round in the air. He flew round and about the whole day till evening, when he returned to the archer and said, "I am stronger than I was, but I have still but little strength in me, slay me the steer also!" Then the man thought to himself, "What shall I do? Shall I slay it, or shall I not slay it?" At last he said, "Well! I've sacrificed more than this before, so let this go too!" and he took the steer and slaughtered it for the eagle. Then the eagle lived upon this for another whole year longer, and after that he took to flight, and flew high up right to the very clouds. Then he flew down again to the man and said to him, "I thank thee, brother, for that thou hast been the saving of me! Come now and sit upon me!"--"Nay, but," said the man, "what if some evil befall me?"--"Sit on me, I say!" cried the eagle. So the archer sat down upon the bird.

Then the eagle bore him nearly as high as the big clouds, and then let him fall. Down plumped the man; but the eagle did not let him fall to the earth, but swiftly flew beneath him and upheld him, and said to him, "How dost thou feel now?"--"I feel," said the man, "as if I had no life in me."--Then the eagle replied, "That was just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the first time." Then he said to him, "Sit on my back again!" The man did not want to sit on him, but what could he do? Sit he must. Then the eagle flew with him quite as high as the big clouds, and shook him off, and down he fell headlong till he was about two fathoms from the ground, when the bird again flew beneath him and held him up. Again the eagle asked him, "How dost thou feel?"

And the man replied, "I feel just as if all my bones were already broken to bits!"--"That is just how I felt when thou didst take aim at me the second time," replied the eagle. "But now sit on my back once more." The man did so, and the eagle flew with him as high as the small fleecy clouds, and then he shook him off, and down he fell headlong; but when he was but a hand's-breadth from the earth, the eagle again flew beneath him and held him up, and said to him, "How dost thou feel now?" And he replied, "I feel as if I no longer belonged to this world!"--"That is just how I felt when thou didst aim at me the third time," replied the eagle. "But now," continued the bird, "thou art guilty no more. We are quits. I owe thee naught, and thou owest naught to me; so sit on my back again, and I'll take thee to my master."

They flew on and on, they flew till they came to the eagle's uncle.

And the eagle said to the archer, "Go to my house, and when they ask thee, 'Hast thou not seen our poor child?' reply, 'Give me the magic egg, and I'll bring him before your eyes!'" So he went to the house, and there they said to him, "Hast thou heard of our poor child with thine ears, or seen him with thine eyes, and hast thou come hither willingly or unwillingly?"--And he answered, "I have come hither willingly!"--Then they asked, "Hast thou smelt out anything of our poor youngster? for it is three years now since he went to the wars, and there's neither sight nor sound of him more!"--And he answered, "Give me the magic egg, and I'll bring him straightway before your eyes!"--Then they replied, "'Twere better we never saw him than that we should give thee the magic egg!"--Then he went back to the eagle and said to him, "They said, ''Twere better we never saw him than that we should give thee the magic egg.'"--Then the eagle answered, "Let us fly on farther!"

They flew on and on till they came to the eagle's brother, and the archer said just the same to him as he had said to the eagle's uncle, and still he didn't get the egg. Then they flew to the eagle's father, and the eagle said to him, "Go up to the hut, and if they ask for me, say that thou hast seen me and will bring me before their eyes."--So he went up to the hut, and they said to him, "O Tsarevich, we hear thee with our ears and see thee with our eyes, but hast thou come hither of thine own free will or by the will of another?"--And the archer answered, "I have come hither of my own free will!"--Then they asked him, "Hast thou seen our son? Lo, these four years we have not had news of him. He went off to the wars, and perchance he has been slain there."--And he answered them, "I have seen him, and if you will give me the magic egg, I will bring him before your eyes."--And the eagle's father said to him, "What good will such a thing do thee? We had better give thee the lucky penny!"--But he answered, "I don't want the lucky penny, give me the magic egg!"--"Come hither then," said he, "and thou shalt have it." So he went into the hut. Then the eagle's father rejoiced and gave him the egg, and said to him, "Take heed thou dost not break it anywhere on the road, and when thou gettest home, hedge it round and build a strong fence about it, and it will do thee good."

So he went homeward. He went on and on till a great thirst came upon him. So he stopped at the first spring he came to, and as he stooped to drink he stumbled and the magic egg was broken. Then he perceived that an ox had come out of the egg and was rolling away. He gave chase to the ox, but whenever he was getting close to one side of it, the other side of it got farther away from him. Then the poor fellow cried, "I shall do nothing with it myself, I see."--At that moment an old she-dragon came up to him and said, "What wilt thou give me, O man, if I chase this ox back again into the egg for thee?"--And the archer replied, "What _can_ I give?"--The dragon said to him, "Give me what thou hast at home without thy will and wit!"--"Done!" said the archer. Then the dragon chased the ox nicely into the egg again, patched it up prettily and gave it into the man's hand. Then the archer went home, and when he got home he found a son had been born to him there, and his son said to him, "Why didst thou give me to the old she-dragon, dad? But never mind, I'll manage to live in spite of her."

Then the father was very grieved for a time, but what could he do? Now the name of this son was Ivan.

So Ivan lost no time in going to the dragon, and the dragon said to him, "Go to my house and do me three tasks, and if thou dost them not, I'll devour thee." Now, round the dragon's house was a large meadow as far as the eye could reach. And the dragon said to him, "Thou must in a single night weed out this field and sow wheat in it, and reap the wheat and store it, all in this very night; and thou must bake me a roll out of this self-same wheat, and the roll must be lying ready for me on my table in the morning."

Then Ivan went and leaned over the fence, and his heart within him was sore troubled. Now near to him there was a post, and on this post was the dragon's starveling daughter. So when he came thither and fell a-weeping, she asked him, "Wherefore dost thou weep?"--And he said, "How can I help weeping? The dragon has bidden me do something I can never, never do; and what is more, she has bidden me do it in a single night."--"What is it, pray?" asked the dragon's daughter. Then he told her. "Not every bush bears a berry!" cried she. "Promise to take me to wife, and I'll do all she has bidden thee do." He promised, and then she said to him again, "Now go and lie down, but see that thou art up early in the morning to bring her her roll." Then she went to the field, and before one could whistle she had cleaned it of weeds and harrowed it and sown it with wheat, and by dawn she had reaped the wheat and cooked the roll and brought it to him, and said, "Now, take it to her hut and put it on her table."

Then the old she-dragon awoke and came to the door, and was amazed at the sight of the field, which was now all stubble, for the corn had been cut. Then she said to Ivan, "Yes, thou hast done the work well.

But now, see that thou doest my second task." Then she gave him her second command. "Dig up that mountain yonder and let the Dnieper flow over the site of it, and there build a store-house, and in the store-house stack the wheat that thou hast reaped, and sell this wheat to the merchant barques that sail by, and everything must be done by the time I get up early next morning!" Then he again went to the fence and wept, and the maiden said to him, "Why dost thou weep?" and he told her all that the she-dragon had bidden him do. "There are lots of bushes, but where are the berries? Go and lie down, and I'll do it all for thee." Then she whistled, and the mountain was levelled and the Dnieper flowed over the site of it, and round about the Dnieper store-houses rose up, and then she came and woke him that he might go and sell the wheat to the merchant barques that sailed by that way, and when the she-dragon rose up early in the morning she was amazed to see that everything had been done which she had commanded him.

Then she gave him her third command. "This night thou must catch the golden hare, and bring it to me by the morning light." Again he went to the fence and fell a-weeping. And the girl asked him, "Why art thou weeping?"--He said to her, "She has ordered me to catch her the golden hare."--"Oh, oh!" cried the she-dragon's daughter, "the berries are ripening now; only her father knows how to catch such a hare as that.

Nevertheless, I'll go to a rocky place I know of, and there perchance we shall be able to catch it." So they went to this rocky place together, and she said to him, "Stand over that hole. I'll go in and chase him out of the hole, and do thou catch him as he comes out; but mind, whatever comes out of the hole, seize it, for it will be the golden hare."

So she went and began beating up, and all at once out came a snake and hissed, and he let it go. Then she came out of the hole and said to him, "What! has nothing come out?"--"Well," said he, "only a snake, and I was afraid it would bite me, so I let it go."--"What hast thou done?" said she; "that was the very hare itself. Look now!" said she, "I'll go in again, and if any one comes out and tells you that the golden hare is not here, don't believe it, but hold him fast." So she crept into the hole again and began to beat for game, and out came an old woman, who said to the youth, "What art thou poking about there for?"--And he said to her, "For the golden hare."--She said to him, "It is not here, for this is a snake's hole," and when she had said this she went away. Presently the girl also came out and said to him, "What! hast thou not got the hare? Did nothing come out then?"--"No,"

said he, "nothing but an old woman who asked me what I was seeking, and I told her the golden hare, and she said, 'It is not here,' so I let her go."--Then the girl replied, "Why didst thou not lay hold of her? for she was the very golden hare itself, and now thou never wilt catch it unless I turn myself into a hare and thou take and lay me on the table, and give me into my mother's, the she-dragon's hands, and go away, for if she find out all about it she will tear the pair of us to pieces."

So she changed herself into a hare, and he took and laid her on the table, and said to the she-dragon, "There's thy hare for thee, and now let me go away!" She said to him, "Very well--be off!" Then he set off running, and he ran and ran as hard as he could. Soon after, the old she-dragon discovered that it was not the golden hare, but her own daughter, so she set about chasing after them to destroy them both, for the daughter had made haste in the meantime to join Ivan. But as the she-dragon couldn't run herself, she sent her husband, and he began chasing them, and they knew he was coming, for they felt the earth trembling beneath his tread. Then the she-dragon's daughter said to Ivan, "I hear him running after us. I'll turn myself into standing wheat and thee into an old man guarding me, and if he ask thee, 'Hast thou seen a lad and a la.s.s pa.s.s by this way?' say to him, 'Yes, they pa.s.sed by this way while I was sowing this wheat!'"

A little while afterward the she-dragon's husband came flying up.

"Have a lad and a la.s.s pa.s.sed by this way?" said he. "Yes," replied the old man, "they have."--"Was it long ago?" asked the she-dragon's husband.--"It was while this wheat was being sown," replied the old man.--"Oh!" thought the dragon, "this wheat is ready for the sickle, they couldn't have been this way yesterday," so he turned back. Then the she-dragon's daughter turned herself back into a maiden and the old man into a youth, and off they set again. But the dragon returned home, and the she-dragon asked him, "What! hast thou not caught them or met them on the road?"--"Met them, no!" said he. "I did, indeed, pa.s.s on the road some standing wheat and an old man watching it, and I asked the old man if he had seen a lad and a la.s.s pa.s.s by that way, and he said, 'Yes, while this wheat was being sown,' but the wheat was quite ripe for the sickle, so I knew it was a long while ago and turned back."--"Why didst thou not tear that old man and the wheat to pieces?" cried the she-dragon; "it was they! Be off after them again, and mind, this time tear them to pieces without fail."

So the dragon set off after them again, and they heard him coming from afar, for the earth trembled beneath him, so the damsel said to Ivan, "He's coming again, I hear him; now I'll change myself into a monastery, so old that it will be almost falling to pieces, and I'll change thee into an old black monk at the gate, and when he comes up and asks, 'Hast thou seen a lad and a la.s.s pa.s.s this way?' say to him, 'Yes, they pa.s.sed by this way when this monastery was being built.'"

Soon afterward the dragon came flying past, and asked the monk, "Hast thou seen a lad and a la.s.s pa.s.s by this way?"--"Yes," he replied, "I saw them what time the holy fathers began to build this monastery."

The dragon thought to himself, "That was not yesterday! This monastery has stood a hundred years if it has stood a day, and won't stand much longer either," and with that he turned him back. When he got home, he said to the she-dragon, his wife, "I met a black monk who serves in a monastery, and I asked him about them, and he told me that a lad and a la.s.s had run past that way when the monastery was being built, but that was not yesterday, for the monastery is a hundred years old at the very least."--"Why didst thou not tear the black monk to pieces and pull down the monastery? for 'twas they. But I see I must go after them myself, thou art no good at all."

So off she set and ran and ran, and they knew she was coming, for the earth quaked and yawned beneath her. Then the damsel said to Ivan, "I fear me 'tis all over, for she is coming herself! Look now! I'll change thee into a stream and myself into a fish--a perch."

Immediately after the she-dragon came up and said to the perch, "Oh, oh! so thou wouldst run away from me, eh!" Then she turned herself into a pike and began chasing the perch, but every time she drew near to it, the perch turned its p.r.i.c.kly fins toward her, so that she could not catch hold of it. So she kept on chasing it and chasing it, but finding she could not catch it, she tried to drink up the stream, till she drank so much of it that she burst.

Then the maiden who had become a fish said to the youth who had become a river, "Now that we are alive and not dead, go back to thy lord-father and thy father's house and see them, and kiss them all except the daughter of thy uncle, for if thou kiss that damsel thou wilt forget me, and I shall go to the land of Nowhere." So he went home and greeted them all, and as he did so he thought to himself, "Why should I not greet my uncle's daughter like the rest of them?

Why, they'll think me a mere pagan if I don't!" So he kissed her, and the moment he did so he forgot all about the girl who had saved him.

So he remained there half a year, and then bethought him of taking to himself a wife. So they betrothed him to a very pretty girl, and he accepted her and forgot all about the other girl who had saved him from the dragon, though she herself was the she-dragon's daughter.

Now the evening before the wedding they heard a young damsel crying _s.h.i.+shki_[28] in the streets. They called to the young damsel to go away, or say who she was, for n.o.body knew her. But the damsel answered never a word, but began to knead more cakes, and made a c.o.c.k-dove and a hen-dove out of the dough and put them down on the ground, and they became alive. And the hen-dove said to the c.o.c.k-dove, "Hast thou forgotten how I cleared the field for thee, and sowed it with wheat, and thou mad'st a roll from the corn which thou gavest to the she-dragon?"--But the c.o.c.k-dove answered, "Forgotten!

forgotten!"--Then she said to him again, "And hast thou forgotten how I dug away the mountain for thee, and let the Dnieper flow by it that the merchant barques might come to thy store-houses, and that thou mightst sell thy wheat to the merchant barques?" But the c.o.c.k-dove replied, "Forgotten! forgotten!"--Then the hen-dove said to him again, "And hast thou forgotten how we two went together in search of the golden hare? Hast thou forgotten me then altogether?"--And the c.o.c.k-dove answered again, "Forgotten! forgotten!" Then the good youth Ivan bethought him who this damsel was that had made the doves, and he took her to his arms and made her his wife, and they lived happily ever afterward.

[28] Wedding-cakes of the shape of pine-cones.

THE STORY OF THE FORTY-FIRST BROTHER

There was once upon a time an old man who had forty-one sons. Now when this old man was at the point of death, he divided all he had among his sons, and gave to each of the forty a horse; but when he came to the forty-first he found he had no more horses left, so the forty-first brother had to be content with a foal. When their father was dead, the brothers said to each other, "Let us go to Friday and get married!"--But the eldest brother said, "No, Friday has only forty daughters, so one of us would be left without a bride."--Then the second brother said, "Let us go then to Wednesday--Wednesday has forty-one daughters, and so the whole lot of us can pair off with the whole lot of them." So they went and chose their brides. The eldest brother took the eldest sister, and the youngest the youngest, till they were all suited. And the youngest brother of all said, "I'll take that little damsel who is sitting on the stove in the corner and has the nice kerchief in her hand." Then they all drank a b.u.mper together to seal the bargain, and after that the forty-one bridegrooms and the forty-one brides laid them down to sleep side by side. But the youngest brother of all said to himself, "I will bring my foal into the room." So he brought in the foal, and then went to his bedchamber and laid him down to sleep also. Now his bride lay down with her kerchief in her hand, and he took a great fancy to it, and he begged and prayed her for it again and again, until at last she gave it to him. Now, when Wednesday thought that all the people were asleep, he went out into the courtyard to sharpen his sabre. Then the foal said, "Oh, my dear little master, come here, come here!" He came, and the foal said to him, "Take off the night-dresses of the forty sleeping bridegrooms and put them on the forty sleeping brides, and put the night-dresses of the brides on the bridegrooms, for a great woe is nigh!" And he did so. When Wednesday had sharpened his sabre he came into the room and began feeling for the stiff collars of the bridegrooms' night-dresses, and straightway cut off the forty heads above the collars. Then he carried off the heads of his forty daughters in a bunch (for the brides now had on the night-dresses of their bridegrooms), and went and lay down to sleep. Then the foal said, "My dear little father! awake the bridegrooms, and we'll set off." So he awoke the bridegrooms and sent them on before, while he followed after on his own little nag. They trotted on and on, and at last the foal said to him, "Look behind, and see whether Wednesday is not pursuing." He looked round: "Yes, little brother," said he, "Wednesday _is_ pursuing!"--"Shake thy kerchief then!" said the foal. He shook his kerchief, and immediately a vast sea was between him and the pursuer. Then they went on and on till the foal said to him again, "Look behind, and see if Wednesday is still pursuing!"--He looked round. "Yes, little brother, he _is_ pursuing!"--"Wave thy handkerchief on the left side!" said the foal. He waved it on the left side, and immediately between them and the pursuer stood a forest so thick that not even a little mouse could have squeezed through it. Then they went on still farther, till the foal said again, "Look behind, and see whether Wednesday is still pursuing!"--He looked behind, and there, sure enough, was Wednesday running after them, and he was not very far off either.--"Wave thy kerchief!" said the foal. He waved his kerchief, and immediately a steep mountain--oh, so steep!--lay betwixt them. They went on and on, until the foal said again, "Look behind, is Wednesday still pursuing?"--So he looked behind him and said, "No, now he is not there." Then they went on and on again, and soon they were not very far from home. Then the youngest brother said, "You go home now, but I am going to seek a bride!" So he went on and on till he came to a place where lay a feather of the bird Zhar. "Look!" cried he, "what I've found!"--But the foal said to him, "Pick not up that feather, for it will bring thee evil as well as good!"--But his master said, "Why, I should be a fool not to pick up a feather like that!" So he turned back and picked up the feather. Then he went on farther and farther, until he came to a clay hut. He went into this clay hut, and there sat an old woman.

"Give me a night's lodging, granny!" said he.--"I have neither bed nor light to offer thee," said she. Nevertheless he entered the hut and put the feather on the window-corner, and it lit up the whole hut. So he went to sleep. But the old woman ran off to the Tsar, and said to him, "A certain man has come to me and laid a certain feather on the window-sill, and it s.h.i.+nes like fire!" Then the Tsar guessed that it was a feather of the bird Zhar, and said to his soldiers, "Go and fetch that man hither!" And the Tsar said to him, "Wilt thou enter my service?"--"Yes," he replied, "but you must give me all your keys." So the Tsar gave him all the keys and a hut of his own to live in besides. But one day the Tsar said to his servants, "Boil me now a vat of milk!" So they boiled it. Then he took off his gold ring, and said to the man, "Thou didst get the feather of the bird Zhar, get me also this golden ring of mine out of the vat of boiling milk!"--"Bring hither, then, my faithful horse," said he, "that he may see his master plunge into the vat of boiling milk and die!" So they brought his horse, and, taking off his clothes, he plunged into the vat, but as he did so the horse snorted so violently that all the boiling milk leaped up in the air and the man seized the ring and gave it back to the Tsar. Now when the Tsar saw that the man had come out of the vat younger and handsomer than ever, he said, "I'll try and fish up the ring in like manner." So he flung his ring into the vat of boiling milk and plunged after it to get it. The people waited and waited and wondered and wondered that he was so long about it, and at last they drained off the milk and found the Tsar at the bottom of the vat boiled quite red.

Then the man said, "Now, Tsaritsa, thou art mine and I am thine." And they lived together happily ever afterward.

THE STORY OF THE UNLUCKY DAYS

At the end of a village on the verge of the steppe dwelt two brothers, one rich and the other poor. One day the poor brother came to the rich brother's house and sat down at his table; but the rich brother drove him away and said, "How durst thou sit at my table? Be off! Thy proper place is in the fields to scare away the crows!" So the poor brother went into the fields to scare away the crows. The crows all flew away when they saw him, but among them was a raven that flew back again and said to him, "O man! in this village thou wilt never be able to live, for here there is neither luck nor happiness for thee, but go into another village and thou shalt do well!" Then the man went home, called together his wife and children, put up the few old clothes that still remained in his wardrobe, and went on to the next village, carrying his water-skin on his shoulders. On and on they tramped along the road, but the Unlucky Days clung on to the man behind, and said, "Why dost thou not take us with thee? We will never leave thee, for thou art ours!" So they went on with him till they came to a river, and the man, who was thirsty, went down to the water's edge for a drink. He undid his water-skin, persuaded the Unlucky Days to get into it, tied it fast again and buried it on the bank close by the river.

Then he and his family went on farther. They went on and on till they came to another village, and at the very end of it was an empty hut--the people who had lived there had died of hunger. There the whole family settled down. One day they were all sitting down there when they heard something in the mountain crying, "Catch hold! catch hold! catch hold!" The man went at once into his stable, took down the bit and reins that remained to him, and climbed up into the mountain.

He looked all about him as he went, and at last he saw, sitting down, an old goat with two large horns--it was the Devil himself, but of course he didn't know that. So he made a la.s.so of the reins, threw them round the old goat, and began to drag it gently down the mountain-side. He dragged it all the way up the ladder of his barn, when the goat disappeared, but showers and showers of money came tumbling through the ceiling. He collected them all together, and they filled two large coffers. Then the poor man made the most of his money, and in no very long time he was well-to-do. Then he sent some of his people to his rich brother, and invited him to come and live with him. The rich brother pondered the matter over. "Maybe he has nothing to eat," thought he, "and that is why he sends for me." So he bade them bake him a good store of fat pancakes, and set out accordingly. On the way he heard that his brother had grown rich, and the farther he went the more he heard of his brother's wealth. Then he regretted that he had brought all the pancakes with him, so he threw them away into the ditch. At last he came to his brother's house, and his brother showed him first one of the coffers full of money and then the other. Then envy seized upon the rich brother, and he grew quite green in the face. But his brother said to him, "Look now! I have buried a lot more money in a water-skin, hard by the river; you may dig it up and keep it if you like, for I have lots of my own here!"

The rich brother did not wait to be told twice. Off he went to the river, and began digging up the water-skin straightway. He unfastened it with greedy, trembling hands; but he had no sooner opened it than the Unlucky Days all popped out and clung on to him. "Thou art ours!"

said they. He went home, and when he got there he found that all his wealth was consumed, and a heap of ashes stood where his house had been. So he went and lived in the place where his brother had lived, and the Unlucky Days lived with him ever afterward.

THE WONDROUS STORY OF IVAN GOLIK AND THE SERPENTS

Somewhere, nowhere, in another kingdom, in the Empire of Thrice-ten, lived--whether 'twas a Tsar and a Tsaritsa, or only a Prince and a Princess, I know not, but anyhow they had two sons. One day this prince said to his sons, "Let us go down to the seash.o.r.e and listen to the songs of the sea-folk!" So they went. Now the prince wanted to test the wits of his two sons; he wanted to see which of the twain was fit for ruling his empire, and which should stand aside and make way for better men. So they went on together till they came to where three oaks stood all in a row. The prince looked at the trees, and said to his eldest son, "My dear son, what wouldst thou make of those trees?"

"What would I make of them, dear father? I would make me good barns and store-houses out of them. I would cut them down and plane the timber well, and goodly should be the planks I should make of them."

"Good, my son!" replied the prince, "thou wilt make a careful householder."

Then he asked his younger son, "And what wouldst thou make out of these oaks, my son?"

"Well, dear father," said he, "had I only as much power as will, I would cut down the middle oak, lay it across the other two, and hang up every prince and every n.o.ble in the wide world."

Then the prince shook his head and was silent.

Presently they came to the sea, and all three stood still and looked at it, and watched the fishes play. Then, suddenly, the prince caught hold of his younger son, and pitched him right into the sea. "Peris.h.!.+"

cried he, "for 'tis but just that such a wretch as thou shouldst peris.h.!.+"

Now, just as the father pitched his younger son into the sea, a great whale-fish was coming along and swallowed him, and into its maw he went. There he found wagons with horses and oxen harnessed to them, all of which the fish had also gobbled. So he went rummaging about these wagons to see what was in them, and he found that one of the wagons was full of tobacco-pipes and tobacco, and flints and steels.

So he took up a pipe, filled it with tobacco, lit it, and began to smoke. He smoked out one pipe, filled another, and smoked that too; then he filled a third, and began smoking that. At last the smoke inside the whale made it feel so uncomfortable that it opened its mouth, swam ash.o.r.e, and went asleep on the beach. Now some huntsmen happened to be going along the beach at that time, and one of them saw the whale, and said, "Look, my brethren! we have been hunting jays and crows and shot nothing, and lo! what a monstrous fish lies all about the sh.o.r.e! Let us shoot it!"

So they shot at it and shot at it, and then they fell upon it with their axes and began to cut it to pieces. They cut and hacked at it till suddenly they heard something calling to them from the middle of the fish, "Ho! my brothers! hack fish if you like, but hack not that flesh which is full of Christian blood!"