{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_48605/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_48605","id":"gutenberg_48605","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/48605","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Adventure","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Russian Literature","Mythology, Slavic -- Juvenile literature"],"text":"THE\n\n                           RUSSIAN STORY BOOK\n\n                 CONTAINING TALES FROM THE SONG-CYCLES\n                     OF KIEV AND NOVGOROD AND OTHER\n                             EARLY SOURCES\n\n\n                               RETOLD BY\n                             RICHARD WILSON\n\n                   AUTHOR OF \"THE INDIAN STORY BOOK\"\n                 WITH SIXTEEN COLOURED PLATES AND LINE\n                     ILLUSTRATIONS FROM DRAWINGS BY\n\n                             FRANK C. PAP\u00c9\n\n\n                       MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED\n                      ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON\n                                  1916\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE\n\n\nI have gone right into the heart of \"Holy Russia,\" to Kiev and\nNovgorod and the borders of the Caspian, in an endeavour to show by\nmeans of some of the early legends the ideals and point of view of the\nRussian nation while it was in the process of being made. The stories\nof the song-cycles of Kiev and Novgorod tell of a barbaric, though\nnot a barbarian, world, full of high colour and spirited action,\nof the knock-down blow followed quickly by the hand of friendship\nfreely extended to pick up the fallen foeman--if indeed he has had\nthe hardihood to survive.\n\nThe land of Vladimir and Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck is a Christian\nland, with the Christianity of the Greek Church, and it is before all\nelse an Easter land, where the Christian Festival of the Resurrection\nmeans infinitely more than it can ever do in countries which are not\nice-bound for several winter months. The country is, moreover, an\noutpost of Christianity towards the East--uninfluenced by Renaissance\nor Reformation--and must therefore have developed interesting\ncharacteristics entirely different from those of Western lands. I\nthink that such characteristics are clearly shown in these stories,\nbut I must leave those of my older readers who are interested in\nthis matter to find them out and to discover the Arthur, Guinevere\nand Galahad of Russia; for my first concern is to tell a tale which\nwill please healthy-minded boys and girls in their early teens.\n\nThis book might have been written by a Russian who thoroughly\nunderstands our language, or by an English author who has\nspent the best part of a lifetime in studying Russia and the\nRussians, illustrated by a native artist, and decorated by a Russian\ndesigner. When such a volume does appear, it will have a great interest\nfor me. Meanwhile, I submit that there is some artistic unity, also,\nin a volume of Russian stories, written by an Englishman, illustrated\nby an English artist, and decorated by an English designer, the whole\nproduction being for an English child.\n\nOne cannot delve far into these folk-lore records without becoming\nindebted to Miss I. F. Hapgood's English renderings from the\ncollections of Kirsh\u00e1 Danil\u00f3v, P. B. Kir\u00fdeevsky, A. T. Gillferding,\nRybnikof, P. A. Bezs\u00f3nof and others, published in New York in 1885;\nto J. Curtin's literal translations from the Nar\u00f3dniya R\u00fassyika\nShazki of A. N. Afan\u00e1sieva; to W. R. S. Ralston's books on Russian\nfolk-song and fable; and to the writings of the Hon. Maurice Baring and\nMr. Stephen Graham. To all of these I desire to express my indebtedness\nfor help and guidance, though the responsibility for the telling\nand interpretation of the tales is entirely my own. If this little\ncollection makes the British child more sympathetic towards Russia\nand helps it to understand the Russian people to a small degree its\npurpose will have been achieved.\n\n\n    R. W.\n\n    Hampstead, 1915.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                        PAGE\n\n    Ilya and Cloudfall                                    11\n    Ilya meets Svyatogor and parts with Him               19\n    Ilya and Nightingale the Robber                       33\n    Ilya and Falcon the Hunter                            51\n    The Adventure of the Burning White Stone              73\n    How Quiet Dunai had brought the Princess Apraxia\n        to Kiev                                           83\n    The Story of Nikitich and Marina                     103\n    How the Court of Vladimir received a Visitor from\n        India the Glorious                               119\n    The Story of Kasyan and the Dream Maiden             149\n    How Stavr the Noble was saved by a Woman's Wiles     161\n    The Golden Horde                                     175\n    Whirlwind the Whistler, or the Kingdoms of Copper,\n        Silver, and Gold                                 195\n    Vasily the Turbulent                                 231\n    Nikita the Footless and the Terrible Tsar            267\n    Peerless Beauty the Cake-Baker                       289\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nILYA AND CLOUDFALL\n\n\nFor thirty years Ilya sat upon the stove in his mother's cottage,\nfor he was a helpless cripple without arms or legs, and really of\nno use to any one, either in the house or out of it. But when these\nquiet years were past and over, Ilya came to his own, as you shall see.\n\nOne summer day his father and mother took down the wooden rakes and\nwent out into the sunny meadow round which the tall pines stood to\nhelp to make the hay; and Ilya was left alone in the cottage with\nhis thoughts.\n\nAll at once he heard a deep voice at the door which said, \"In the\nName of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.\" \"Amen,\"\nresponded Ilya at once, and three wayfarers entered after bowing at\nthe threshold. They were old and venerable, and Ilya knew them at\nonce to be singers of holy psalms, who never lacked food and drink\namong the peasants whose lives they cheered. So, when they asked him\nfor something to drink, he spoke gently to them, partly, however,\nbecause he feared the result of their displeasure.\n\n\"Venerable masters,\" he said, \"whatever is within the house is yours,\nbut, to my sorrow, I cannot rise to wait upon you.\" Then the holy men\nlooked steadily at him, and before their steadfast gaze Ilya's eyes\nfell in humility as before the Holy Cross; and as he looked downwards\nthey said to him, \"Arise and wash yourself, for you shall be able to\nwalk and to wait upon us.\"\n\nSomehow, Ilya seemed to obey them in spite of himself. He got down\nfrom the stove and walked with the legs of a full-grown man of mighty\nstature. Then stretching out his brawny arms he took the cup, filled it\nwith the drink of the rye, and offered it to the holy guests on bended\nknee. They took it from him, drank one after the other, and gave it\nto him again, saying, \"Drink in your turn, Ilya.\" The young man obeyed\nwithout a word, and then awaited the further pleasure of the visitors.\n\n\"Ilya, son of weakness,\" they said, \"how is it with your strength?\"\n\n\"I thank you with reverence, venerable sirs,\" he replied, bowing low\nbefore them, \"my strength is now such as could surely move the earth.\"\n\nThe old men turned from him and regarded each other with a look of\nwisdom so pure and clear and like a shaft of brightest sunlight that\nIlya's eyes sought the earthen floor of the cottage once again.\n\nThen one of the guests, who seemed to be the leader, said in a quiet\nvoice of authority, \"Give us to drink once more,\" and Ilya obeyed\nwithout question. \"Drink now yourself, Ilya,\" they said, and he did so.\n\n\"Ilya, son of weakness,\" they said, \"how is it now with your strength?\"\n\n\"I thank you with reverence, venerable sirs,\" he said, \"my strength\nis great, but only half the strength I had.\"\n\n\"That is well,\" said the old men; \"if it were greater, then moist\nMother Earth would be too frail to bear you.\"\n\nThen the old men told Ilya to go out into the summer sunlight, and\nhe walked out of the cottage for the first time, followed by his\ndeliverers; and there, standing in the light, the young man received\nhis blessing and his charge.\n\n\"Ilya, son of strength,\" they said, \"it is God Himself who has redeemed\nyou from weakness. Therefore you are bound to defend the faith of\nChrist against all unbelievers, however bold and daring they may be,\nremembering always that it is not written that you should come to\nyour death in battle.\n\n\"In the whole white world there is none stronger than you except\nSvyatogor, whom you will meet before long. Avoid conflict with him,\nand him alone; do not spend your strength on the soil or the meadow\nor the forest, but set out without delay for the royal city of Kiev.\"\n\nHaving spoken these words, the old men vanished, and Ilya did not\nsee either how or where they went. He only knew that he stood alone\nin the light of the sun, and he stretched out his great arms as if\nhe had just awakened from a long refreshing sleep.\n\nThen the young giant went to seek his father and mother, and found\nthem resting in the shade of the pine trees by the side of the\nmeadow. The whole company was asleep, and taking up one of their\naxes, Ilya began to hew at the trunks of the pines. It is a matter\nfor wonder that the sound of the crashing trunks which was soon heard\ndid not immediately awake the sleepers, for the young man laid about\nhim lustily during the space of an hour, and at the end of that time\nhad felled a small wood about the extent of a field; which is really\nnot so very marvellous after all, seeing that he had been storing up\nstrength for thirty years. When he had finished this work he drove\nall the axes lying near the sleepers into a tree-stump with a quiet\nlaugh. \"Ah,\" he said to himself, \"they must ask me for these axes if\nthey wish to use them again.\"\n\nAfter a while the young man's parents and their labourers awoke from\nsleep, for by his tree-felling Ilya had taken away the shade, and the\nhot sunlight was now beating full upon their faces. With blinking\neyes they looked around, and when they saw the fallen timber and\nthe axes deeply embedded in the stump of a tree, they began somewhat\nslowly to be filled with very great wonder, and said to one another,\n\"Who has done this?\"\n\nThen Ilya came out of the forest where he had been hiding and enjoying\ntheir awakening. The men were now trying in vain to draw out the\naxes, and he took them easily from the stump, and handed them to\nthe wondering servants without a word being spoken on either side;\nfor the labourers were too much dazed to break the silence by speech.\n\nFor a few moments the father and mother gazed at the tall young man,\nthe eyes of the former dwelling upon his stature, his strong limbs,\nand his mighty shoulders, while the mother gazed steadfastly at the\nface of her son, which was radiant with a wonderful light. Then,\nclasping his hands and closing his eyes, the old man gave thanks to\nGod that he should be the father of so splendid a workman; but Ilya\nshowed no sign of continuing in his peasant's task, for with a low\nbow of reverence to his parents, he strode away without a word across\nthe open plain.\n\nHis mother watched him go in silence, and then she bowed her head as\nbefore the Holy Cross; for the light which she had seen in the young\nman's eyes never shone in the eyes of a woodman or of one content to\nspend the summer day making hay in the pine-encircled meadow.\n\n\n\nNow, as Ilya went on his way he saw a peasant walking heavily across\na field, leading a shaggy brown foal, and, in spite of his manhood,\nthis was the first foal that Ilya had ever seen. He suddenly felt a\ngreat desire to have this shaggy steed for himself, and having money\nin his pocket--though how it had got there he could not tell--he soon\nmade the purchase. He paid little attention to the price asked by the\ngreedy, crafty peasant, which was large enough as a plain matter of\nhorse-dealing, for Ilya was no bargain driver.\n\n\"Now,\" he said to himself, as he patted the shaggy mane of the\nlittle horse, \"I must take three months to make this brown foal into\na charger; so for that time, at least, I must dwell at home.\" He\ntherefore turned back to his father's cottage, and, to the quiet\ndelight of his mother, lived there for the time he had appointed. Ilya\ndid not think out his plans for himself at this time, but had a curious\nfeeling that his way was being made plain before him without his will.\n\nThe foal was at once tied up in the beast-stall in his father's stable,\nand fed on the finest white Turkish wheat to the great surprise of\nthe old man, who, however, made no remark, for the strange things\nnow happening in his household were rather too much for him. When the\nshaggy brown foal had been fed for three months in this careful and\nvery extravagant way, Ilya left it for three nights in the garden\nso that the Powers of Heaven might anoint it with three successive\ndews. After this, he made a trial of the horse, which was now very\nstrong and frisky, and found that it had become a truly heroic charger,\ncapable of trotting and galloping, and while full of fire and spirit,\nobedient to its master's lightest word. To this charger Ilya gave\nthe name of Cloudfall, and he now made preparations for setting out\non his adventures.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nILYA MEETS SVYATOGOR AND PARTS WITH HIM\n\n\nIlya rose early one morning, dressed himself in his best,\nand respectfully informed his parents that he wished to leave his\nhome. The old people, who now felt that it would be very unwise, as\nwell as useless, to interfere in the proceedings of their wonderful\nson, gave him their blessing. His father then went off to his duties\nwith a grunt, and his mother turned to her cooking on the stove with\na sigh; for the stove always reminded her of the cripple boy who had\nbeen of no use to any one.\n\nMeanwhile Ilya had saddled his good steed Cloudfall, and in a short\ntime had ridden far across the open plain. As night was falling he\ncame to a large tent of fair white linen which had been set up near\na spreading oak tree. Peeping into this pavilion, he saw a huge bed\nwith the skins turned down, the pillow smoothed, and everything ready\nfor rest. So he fastened Cloudfall to the oak, crept into the bed, and\nfell into a deep slumber which lasted for three days and three nights.\n\nOn the third day of the sleep of Ilya, Cloudfall raised his head\nfrom his grazing and pricked up his ears, for out of the north came\na noise like an earthquake. Moist Mother Earth rocked from side to\nside, the tall pines shook and staggered as if they were about to\nfall headlong, and the water of the river suddenly heaved and then\noverflowed its banks. Roused by the sound, the intelligent animal\nbeat loudly with his hoof upon the earth in the hope of rousing Ilya;\nbut the young man slept the sleep of a tired child.\n\nThen Cloudfall put his head through the opening of the tent and snouted\nabove the storm in the speech of Holy Russia, \"Ho, ho! Ilya, do you\nsleep there and take your ease, unmindful of the great misfortune\nthat threatens to o'erwhelm you? The hero Svyatogor is coming to his\npavilion where you lodge unasked. Loose me, and let me take to the\nopen plain, and as for yourself, climb up at once into the tall oak\ntree on the top of yonder hillock.\"\n\nIt would have been too wonderful if Ilya had slept when this strange\nvoice sounded in his ear. Up he sprang, fresh from his slumber and wide\nawake at once, as every young and healthy person must be who has slept\nwell, loosed the thong which bound Cloudfall to the oak, and climbed\nwithout further delay into the branches of the tree on the hillock.\n\nWhen he looked down, he saw Svyatogor for the first time, and there\ncould be no doubt that he was a hero. He was taller than the trees of\nthe wood, and his flowing locks seemed to be somewhat confused with the\nflying clouds. Upon his broad shoulder he carried a casket of crystal,\nand when he drew near to the pavilion by the first oak tree, he stooped\nand set it gently upon the ground and opened it with a key of gold.\n\nThe crystal door swung back without a sound, and out stepped the wife\nof the hero. In all the white world no beauty like this had ever been\nseen or told. She was tall and stately, but she stepped as daintily as\na white hind. Her eyes were clear and steady as those of the falcon,\nher eyebrows were as black as a starless night, and the whiteness of\nher skin dazzled the eyes of Ilya in his oak.\n\nAs soon as she had stepped out from the crystal casket, she prepared\nthe table for her lord, spreading upon it a cloth of lawn with\ndrawn thread-work as white as Russia in winter, and placing upon\nit sweetmeats of various kinds. Then she stepped back to her crystal\ncasket and brought out a flagon, wondrously fashioned, containing mead,\nwhose strength assailed the nostrils of Ilya in his oak on the hillock\nwith a power which passed right through him. In a few moments she sat\ndown with her husband, and the two ate and drank while the laughter\nof the hero shook the trunk of Ilya's oak and the gentle murmur of\nhis fair companion's merriment rustled the leaves in a tender whisper.\n\nWhen Svyatogor had eaten well and drunk better, he went into the\npavilion, lay down on the broad bed and fell fast asleep. But his\nbeautiful wife roamed about in the open plain, singing softly to\nherself; and as she walked about she happened to look up, and saw\nIlya, who was gazing at her so steadfastly that he seemed to be\nnothing but eyes.\n\n\"Come down,\" cried the hero's wife; \"come down, good and stately\nyouth. Come down out of the damp oak, or I will tell my husband that\nyou have been unkind to me.\" Now it was not in Ilya's nature to be\nunkind to any one, so without further words he slipped nimbly down the\ntrunk of the oak; and as soon as he touched the lap of moist Mother\nEarth, the woman popped him into the pocket of the sleeping hero,\nand by so doing roused the latter from his heavy sleep.\n\nThe hero stretched himself, yawned, and sat up blinking, for he was not\nso young as Ilya, and therefore did not wake so readily. Then he arose,\nplaced his wife in the crystal casket, locked it with the golden key,\nmounted upon his horse, and took his way towards the Holy Mountains.\n\nAs the hero rode onward his horse began to bend at the knees and\nthen to stumble, whereupon Svyatogor beat him soundly with a silken\nwhip. The animal stopped short, turned his head and said to his master\nin a human voice, \"I was proud enough to carry a hero and his heroic\nwife, casket and all, but when I am obliged to add another hero to\nmy load, it is not surprising if I stumble.\"\n\nSvyatogor looked round, and for the first time was aware of his\nbulging pocket. A little further investigation showed him that he was\ncarrying a fine young man with broad shoulders, on which was set the\nunmistakable head of a hero. In a moment he had drawn Ilya from his\ndeep pocket and was holding him aloft while he questioned him with\nknitted brows.\n\n\"Whence come you, young man?\" he cried, and at the sound of that\nterrible voice the mountains shook, the forests waved, and the river\nfound that its usual channel was not steady enough to contain it,\nwhile it occurred to Ilya that it would be best to tell the truth. So\nhe said boldly enough, though his position could scarcely be described\nas dignified:\n\n\"It was the noble lady in the crystal casket who bade me come down\nfrom the oak, and who placed me in the pocket of your hero-ship.\" Then\nthe youth's eyes were filled with terror, for a fierce frown suddenly\ncreased the brows of Svyatogor, who turned in his saddle, after having\nseated Ilya before him, and hurled the crystal casket into the rushing,\nrocking stream.\n\n\"Lie there, faithless one,\" he shouted; \"it was surely of little avail\nto take you out locked up in a glass case if you were to speak to the\nfirst goodly young man you meet.\" Then with a huge gesture of disgust\nhe urged on his steed and took his way along the side of a rocky\nmountain, talking pleasantly to Ilya as if nothing had happened out\nof the ordinary. He asked the young man about his parents, his home,\nand the dearest wish of his heart, which he found was to meet himself,\nthe famous hero Svyatogor.\n\n\"Yes, I am he,\" said the rider as lightly as his huge size permitted,\n\"and I would gladly come among you people of Holy Russia, but moist\nMother Earth is too soft to bear me up, and I am forced to ride on\nthe rocky crags and high precipices of the great mountains which are\nstrong enough to bear the weight of myself and my steed. I will take\nyou with me to the Holy Mountains, for you are a young man after my\nown heart.\" And as they rode onward he told Ilya how a hero lived and\nhow he did the deeds which roused the wonder and the fear of all men.\n\nSuddenly Svyatogor said to Ilya, \"When we come to my home, I will\npresent you to my father. But before you meet him you must take\ncare to heat a piece of iron in the stove, and when he comes with\noutstretched hand to greet you, take further care not to place your\nhand within his own, but let him grasp the heated iron.\"\n\nIlya promised to follow the instructions of his friend, and before\nlong they came across the craggy peaks to the Holy Mountains, and\non the summit of one of them Ilya saw a wonderful palace of white\nstone. The hero rode forward to the gateway, where he was met by his\naged father, whose beard swept his knees like a snow-drift. \"Welcome,\nmy dear child,\" said the old man, to whose tenderness the giant on\nthe mighty steed was still a loving youngster. \"Welcome, and thrice\nwelcome! Have you been far afield?\"\n\n\"I have been in Holy Russia, my father,\" was the reply. \"And what\nsaw you in Holy Russia?\" asked the old man. \"Nothing but melting snow\nand moist land,\" said Svyatogor, \"too moist indeed for the feet of my\nsteed. But stay, I did meet with some one of note, and I have brought\nhim with me.\"\n\nThe old man quickly raised his head, but the movement was merely one\nof habit, for his eyes were sightless. Sadly he dropped his chin once\nmore upon his breast, and said, \"Bring to me the hero of Holy Russia\nthat I may greet him.\"\n\nIn the meantime Ilya had found a piece of iron, and having also found\na furnace near the gate-way, he quickly made the iron red-hot. Then he\ngrasped the glowing metal in his hand and went forward to greet the\nblind father of his friend. The old man held out his hand, but Ilya\ndid not clasp it. He placed in its palm the red-hot iron which the old\nman grasped as if it had been the hand of a friend returned after a\nlong journey. As he felt its burning glow he said, \"Thy hands are the\nhands of a hero, O Ilya, son of strength. Now you are indeed worthy\nto become the younger brother of Svyatogor. Come within the palace\nof white stone and rest until the call comes, which comes to all true\nmen of deeds, to sally forth upon yet another journey of adventure.\"\n\nSo Ilya and his elder brother went into the palace of white stone\nand rested as long as they could, which was not really long, for one\nmorning the sun shone and each found the other at the gate looking\nwith longing eyes upon the world.\n\nNow as he looked outward, Ilya saw to his surprise and pleasure\nthat a horse was feeding near the outer wall of the palace of white\nstone. He looked more closely and found to his great delight that\nit was none other than his own good steed Cloudfall. Quickly he ran\nto the horse and gaily he greeted it, and before long he was mounted\nupon its back and racing to and fro over the moist grass before the\npalace of white stone. As he reached the gate for the third time,\nhe found Svyatogor mounted also, and ready to set out with him in\nsearch of adventure. Then they rode out along the ridge of the Holy\nMountains, and before long they came to a great casket with a lid\nlying by its side, and upon the lid was written the inscription,\n\"This casket shall fit him for whom it has been hewn from the rock.\"\n\nThe inscription was a plain invitation to one of adventurous spirit,\nand in a moment Ilya had leapt from his horse and lay at full length\nwithin the casket. But it was too long and too wide for him, and\nhe rose saying, \"It is not for me that this casket was hewn from\nthe rock.\"\n\n\"The casket was meant for me,\" said Svyatogor, quietly stepping into\nit and lying down. His words were true enough, for his heroic body\nfitted it as if he had been measured for it. \"Take the cover, Ilya,\"\nhe said, \"and lay it over me.\" But his younger brother had no desire\nto perform an entombment of this kind and he said:\n\n\"I will not lift the cover, elder brother, and shut you up in such\na manner. Surely you would amuse yourself with what is to me a jest\nof the poorest kind, if you would prepare for your burial in this way!\"\n\nSvyatogor spoke not a word, but reaching forth his hands lifted the\nlid and covered the casket with it. Then he tried to raise it again,\nbut found that it was easier to get into such a casket than to get\nout of it. He strove with all his mighty strength to lift the lid,\nbut even this was of no avail, and he cried out through an aperture\nwhich still remained between the cover and the side of the casket,\n\"Alas, my brother! It is clear that Fate, who is stronger than heroes,\nhas entangled me at last. I cannot raise the lid. Try to lift it and\nlive to say that you have rescued the prince of heroes.\"\n\nIlya thereupon put forth all his strength but, strong as he was, he\ncould not raise the lid. \"Take my great battle-sword,\" said Svyatogor,\n\"and strike a blow across the cover.\" Ilya grasped the sword, which\nhis brother had unbuckled, before he lay down, but was not able to\nraise it from the earth, so great was its weight. \"I cannot lift it,\"\nhe said in disgust and despair, \"to say nothing of wielding it.\" \"Bend\ndown to this rift,\" replied his elder brother, \"that I may breathe\nupon you with my heroic breath.\" Ilya obeyed the command, and when\nSvyatogor had breathed warmly upon him, he felt new strength rise\nwithin him, so that he was three times the man he had been.\n\nHe was now able to raise the sword and struck the lid of the casket\na mighty blow, so that all the Holy Mountains re-echoed with the\nsound. Sparks of flame leapt from the lid of the casket, and an iron\nridge was formed upon the stone in the path of that tremendous stroke,\nso as to strengthen the cover rather than weaken it.\n\n\"I stifle, younger brother,\" cried the imprisoned hero. \"Try the effect\nof another blow upon the lid of the fatal casket.\" Then Ilya smote the\ncover lengthwise, and the sound of the blow re-echoed more loudly among\nthe Holy Mountains; but the only effect was to raise another ridge\nof iron upon the lid. Again the imprisoned hero spoke imploringly.\n\n\"I die, little brother. Bend down again so that I may breathe once\nmore upon you, and this time give you all my heroic strength.\"\n\nThen Ilya spoke, and as the words came from his lips he felt as if\na voice within him framed them in despite of his own desires.\n\n\"My strength is enough, elder brother; if I had more, then moist\nMother Earth would not be able to bear me.\"\n\n\"You have done well, younger brother,\" said the voice of Svyatogor,\n\"in that you have disobeyed my last command. Had I breathed upon\nyou again, it would have been with the breath of death. And now,\nfarewell! Take my great battle-sword, which you have fairly won,\nbut tether my good steed to my iron-bound tomb. None but Svyatogor\nmay ride that horse.\"\n\nThen Svyatogor spoke no more, and stooping to the crevice Ilya was\nno longer able to hear the whisper of his breathing. So he bound\nthe good steed to the casket, girt the great battle-sword about his\nwaist, and rode forth upon Cloudfall into the open plain. But as he\nturned away, he saw the tears of the imprisoned Svyatogor flowing in\na crystal stream through the crevice in the iron-bound casket on the\nlonely hills.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nILYA AND NIGHTINGALE THE ROBBER\n\n\nThis is the story of the first of the nightingales, those sweet singers\nof the evening, each of whom, as the old books tell with certainty,\nsprang from a poppy seed. And the sower of the first seeds of the\nblood-red poppy was Ilya the Old Coss\u00e1ck, who rode the shaggy bay\nsteed Cloudfall.\n\nAs for Cloudfall, the shaggy bay steed, it is well that you should\ntry to picture him to yourselves. He had a mane of very great length,\nand a tail ten times as long as his mane, while the shaggy hair of his\nrough coat was of three colours or tints. He wore a bridle of leather\nplaited so as to be of enormous strength, twelve saddle-cloths and\ntwelve felts (so cold it was in Holy Russia), and over these coverings\na strong leather saddle bound with metal. He had twelve girths made of\nfinest silk, not for display and youthful vanity, but for strength and\neasiness of movement. His stirrups were of engraved steel brought from\nDamascus, where the good sword blades are marked with strange devices;\nthe buckles were of bronze which moist Mother Earth is not able to\nrust, and which no amount of hard wear can in the least affect. Such\nwas Cloudfall the shaggy bay steed of Ilya the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\n\nOne Easter morning Ilya took his way to church to greet his risen\nMaster; and as he stood before the altar in the warm glow which lighted\nup the sanctuary, he vowed a mighty vow, \"I will sing at High Mass\non this very Easter Day in the royal town of Kiev, and I will go to\nKiev by the straight way.\"\n\nFor a few moments Ilya stood in deep silence before the altar, as if\npausing to gather strength. Then he vowed a second vow, and it was\nto this effect--as he took the straight way to the royal town of Kiev\nhe would not stain his hand, nor yet the blade of his good keen sword\nwith the blood of the accursed Tatars, the enemies of Holy Russia. A\nsecond time he stood in deep silence, as if pausing to gather still\nmore strength. Then he vowed a third vow with his hand upon his mace\nof steel, and it was to the effect that though he would go by the\nstraight way he would not make use of his fiery darts.\n\nAfter a third space of silence Ilya left the church and came into\nthe courtyard, where his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall was awaiting him\nto take the heroic journey to the city of Prince Vladimir, the Royal\nSun of Kiev. A few wondering peasants saw Ilya as he strode across\nthe courtyard, but as soon as he was mounted upon Cloudfall they saw\nhim no more, so swift was the movement of the shaggy bay steed. Their\neyes tried to follow his flight--for it was no gallop--but they seemed\nto see only a smoke-wreath upon the open plain, or a swift movement\nlike that of a swirl of snow across the wind-swept steppe.\n\nOver the grass skimmed Cloudfall, and over the lakes and rivers,\nwhile his long tail streamed behind him like that of a comet in the\nmidnight sky; high above the lofty forests he soared, even above\nthe oaks which had stood there since the days before history dawned,\nyet he kept lower than the drifting clouds; from mountain summit to\nmountain summit he sprang, and in leaping along the low hill-ranges he\nmissed many of the tops in his flight; and wherever his hoofs fell,\nsprings of water gushed forth from the rock, but when he alighted on\nthe open plain smoke rose beneath his hoofs, wavered for a moment,\nand then ascended in a steady column towards the clouds. It was a ride\nor a flight to be remembered for all time, and Ilya himself was not\nforgetful of this. For he stopped his shaggy bay steed near a forest,\nfelled two mighty trees with his mace, and erected a rough cross on\nwhich he carved with his keen sword the following inscription: \"Ilya\nthe Old Coss\u00e1ck rides to Royal Kiev on his first heroic quest.\" Then\nhe went again upon his wonderful way.\n\nNow when he drew near to the city of Chernigof, he saw before him a\ngreat host of Tatars, the enemies of Holy Russia, marshalled under\nthree princes, each of whom commanded forty thousand men. From their\ncrowd of warlike steeds there arose a cloud of steam so dense that it\nhid the sun by day and the moon by night. When Ilya saw this great\nhost before him he remembered his vows, leapt quickly to the earth,\nand knelt at the right foot of Cloudfall.\n\n\"Lend me your aid, my shaggy bay steed,\" he said, and the intelligent\nanimal bowed his head in reply, after which he raised it and sniffed\nthe air with quivering nostril. For a moment Ilya left his side to\nwrench from moist Mother Earth a ring-barked oak which he bound to\nthe left stirrup of his shaggy bay steed. Then he tore up another\ntree by the roots, and mounting Cloudfall began to brandish it in his\nright hand. \"Any man can vow a vow,\" he said grimly, \"even before the\nhigh altar, but not every man can keep his vow when he has made it;\nand my vow was to shed no blood with my keen sword nor yet to use my\nfiery darts.\"\n\nBy this time Cloudfall was again passing through the air swifter\nthan a falcon in its flight, though his progress was somewhat stayed\nwhen he reached the outer rim of the watching host. Ilya brandished\nhis oak, and bringing it down with one mighty blow after another\ncleared a path through the host as a hurricane makes a lane through\na forest. Through the pathway Cloudfall passed, alighting upon the\nearth again and again, and leaving wherever he touched the host a\nheap of prostrate warriors. So did Ilya the Old Coss\u00e1ck pass through\nthe great host of Tatars, the enemies of Holy Russia.\n\nWhen the hero came to the gates of Chernigof he found them strongly\nbarred, and a keen watch kept against the armies of the Tatars, who\nwere reported to be advancing upon the city. The wall was lofty and\nbroad, but not too high for Cloudfall, who leapt over it with ease,\nto the great astonishment of the guards and of the leaders who stood\non one of the towers in earnest council. Ilya alighted in the broad\ncourtyard of the church, and entering the holy place found the citizens\nassembled for prayer, which they hoped might avert the approaching\ncalamity or fortify them for the endurance of a cruel death.\n\nThen Ilya stood forth amongst them and said boldly, \"Ye traders of\nChernigof, and citizens all, why do you pray when the time is come for\naction? Why do you meet together to bid farewell to the white world\nwith all its joys?\" Then one of the merchants, who was very richly\ndressed, explained to Ilya, as if he were quite ignorant of outside\naffairs, how the city was at that moment besieged by the Tatars. Ilya\nmade a slight gesture of impatience and disgust, \"Go out,\" he said,\n\"upon the broad wall of your famous city, and look towards the open\nsteppe.\"\n\nThen some of the men and a few of the bolder maidens went out upon\nthe ramparts, and in the place where the Tatar banners had stood\nlike a forest, the accursed foes lay in great heaps of slain. Upon\nthis the men of the city bowed themselves before Ilya and begged for\nthe honour of his name. They also besought him to stay with them\nand be their Tsar, and that he would accept at their hands a bowl\nof pure red gold, another of shining silver, and a third of fine\nseed pearls. \"Nay, I ask no gifts from you,\" said Ilya, \"though I\nmay possibly have earned them, nor will I stay to be your Tsar. Go\non with your lives as of old, my brothers, but grant the favour of\nshowing me the straight way to Kiev town.\"\n\nAgain they bowed before him, and one of them, speaking for the\nothers, said, \"It is twice as far by the circling path as it is by\nthe straight way, but you must take the longer journey, for athwart\nthe straight way lie three barriers; and the road is so lonely that\nthe grey wolf and the black raven avoid it, for it is deserted even\nby the dead. The first mighty barrier is a range of lofty mountains;\nthe second is a rushing river of enormous breadth, bordered by the\nBlack Morass; and the third is Nightingale the Robber.\n\n\"His enormous nest is built upon the tops of seven oaks which saw\nthe dawn of history. When he whistles like a nightingale, roars like\na lion, and hisses like a serpent, the trees bow themselves to the\nearth, the green leaves wither, and both horse and rider fall to the\nground as if they were dead.\"\n\nThis was enough to stir the soul of the heroic Ilya, who forthwith\nmounted his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall, and rode out upon the\nstraight way. In due time he came to the lofty mountain range; but\nthis barrier was not likely to prove insurmountable to the shaggy bay\nsteed which soared above it like an eagle in its flight. Then they\ncame to the broad rushing river with the Black Morass by its margin,\nand Ilya, dismounting, wrenched great oak trees from the trembling\ngrasp of moist Mother Earth and flung them before him with one hand\nwhile he led Cloudfall over these bridges which he had made with the\nother. Soon they came to the broad water, and when Ilya had mounted,\nthe shaggy bay steed cleared its rushing current in a single leap.\n\nAt last they came to the third barrier, no less than Nightingale the\nRobber, who was known also as the Magic Bird. As Ilya drew near to his\noak trees, Nightingale thrust his head out of the nest and sent forth\ntongues of flame and showers of sparks from his mouth and nostrils;\nbut this terrible sight had no effect upon the stout heart of the\nheroic Ilya. Nightingale the Robber therefore began to sing like\na bird, varying this entertainment with the roar of a lion and the\nspiteful hiss of a dragon; and at last the combination of sounds was\ntoo much even for Cloudfall. The shaggy bay steed began to tremble\nwith great violence, and then fell upon his knees, whereupon Ilya\nproceeded to beat him without mercy.\n\n\"You grass-bag,\" he cried in his anger, \"you wolf-carrion, have you\nnever passed through a gloomy forest and heard the song of a bird,\nthe roar of a wild beast, and the hiss of a serpent? See how easily\nI shall overcome the Magic Bird!\"\n\nThen Ilya went up to a willow tree that overhung a brook, broke off a\ntwig, and fitted it to his bow, in order that he might keep his vow to\nabstain from using his fiery darts. And as he drew his bow-string he\ncried, \"Fly, dart, fly! Pierce the left eye of Nightingale the Robber,\nand come out at his right ear.\"\n\nSwish! went the magic dart. Cloudfall rose to his feet, and Nightingale\nthe Robber fell from his nest in the old oaks and dumped down upon\nthe lap of moist Mother Earth like an enormous sack of wheat. Then\nIlya the Old Coss\u00e1ck lifted the pestilent thief from the ground by\nhis yellow curling hair, bound him securely to his stirrup, and went\non his way once more.\n\nBy and by they came to the palace of the Magic Bird, where he used to\nretire with his spoils which he had won in the forest. It was built\non seven pillars, and had a courtyard surrounded by an iron paling on\neach spike of which was the head of a luckless hero, for many brave\nmen had tried to do the deed which Ilya was now performing. Round\nabout the house were the greenest of gardens with loveliest flowers\nof every hue, and in the midst of these gardens was an orchard with\nheavily laden fruit trees. From the latticed casements of the palace\nlooked forth the children of the Magic Bird, and when they saw Ilya\napproaching on his shaggy bay steed they cried out together, \"See,\nMother, here comes our Father leading a man at his stirrup. Shall we\nhave the captive for dinner?\"\n\nBut Elena, one of the children of the Magic Bird, had only one eye\nand therefore was a witch; and when she looked out from her own\nparticular latticed casement she saw what had really happened and\nspoke the truth. \"Nay, children,\" she cried, \"it is Ilya the Old\nCoss\u00e1ck on his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall, and he rides towards us,\nbringing our Father as a prisoner.\"\n\n\"Crick! Crock! Crack!\" cried the children in a croaking chorus;\n\"we will at once change ourselves into ravens and rend that peasant\nhero in pieces with our beaks of iron. Then shall the fragments of\nhis white body be scattered on the bosom of moist Mother Earth.\" But\nNightingale the Robber, who was not yet dead, shouted out a command\nthat no harm was to be done to Ilya the Old Coss\u00e1ck. This order,\nhowever, had no effect upon the one-eyed daughter, who ran quickly\ninto the courtyard, tore up a heavy steel beam from the threshold,\nand raising it aloft, hurled it at Ilya with all her strength.\n\nSo fierce was the attack of the one-eyed witch-daughter of Nightingale\nthe Robber, that even Ilya, whose saddle-seat was so secure, wavered\nfor a moment, and it was only with great difficulty and much skill\nthat he was able to avoid the full force of the angry blow. Then he\nleapt lightly from his shaggy bay steed and, remembering his vow,\nraised his right foot and caught the witch with the full force of his\noutstretched toe. Up she went into the air, higher than the height\nof a great cathedral, higher than the cross upon its topmost dome,\nand then she fell down with a bony rattle against the rear wall of\nthe courtyard, and her skin burst with a sharp crack.\n\n\"Fools all!\" shouted Nightingale the Robber. \"Fools now and\nalways! Fetch from the cellar a heaped-up waggon-load of red gold,\nanother of white silver, and a third of fine seed pearls. Give all\nthese treasures to Ilya the Old Coss\u00e1ck, and to Cloudfall, his shaggy\nbay steed, and see if these fine gifts will not induce him to set me\nfree in a trice. Ha, ha!\"\n\nBut Nightingale the Robber chuckled too soon, for Ilya said in a voice\nthat showed no doubtfulness, \"If I should plant my lofty spear in the\nbosom of moist Mother Earth, and if you were to heap up about it red\ngold, white silver, and fine seed pearls until not even the sharp tip\nof it could be seen, yet would I not set you free, Nightingale the\nRobber, you pestilent thief and father of stealing. You shall come\nwith me forthwith to the glorious town of Kiev, and there you shall\nreceive such forgiveness as you deserve.\"\n\nThen Ilya mounted Cloudfall once more, and the shaggy bay steed\nbegan to prance while Nightingale the Robber began to dance; and thus\nprancing and dancing they came to Kiev, the city of Prince Vladimir.\n\nWhen they arrived the Prince was in the cathedral, and hearing this,\nIlya went at once to the sacred courtyard, where he fastened Cloudfall\nto a golden ring in a tall carven pillar, and said to him, \"Keep\nwatch and ward upon Nightingale the Robber, Cloudfall, my faithful\nshaggy bay steed, and see that he escapes not from my stirrup of\ndamascened steel.\" Then to the Magic Bird he spoke, \"Presume not,\nNightingale the Robber, to depart from the side of my good charger,\nfor there is no place in all the white world where you will be hidden\nfrom my searching.\"\n\nThen in fulfilment of his first vow Ilya went to the church for the\nEaster mass; and when he saw Prince Vladimir among the worshippers, he\nmade obeisance to him, but not before he had devoutly crossed himself\nand done reverence to North, South, East, and West. When the mass had\nbeen celebrated, Prince Vladimir sent to summon the stranger hero to\nhis Easter feast; and obedient to the invitation which was really a\ncommand, Ilya went to the royal palace, where the Prince asked him\nto which horde and country he belonged, and who were his parents.\n\n\"Sire,\" said Ilya, \"I am the honourable son of honourable parents\nwho reap their own meadow to feed their own beasts in their own farm,\nsurrounded by the pine forest of Murom. Now as I greeted my Risen Lord\nat matins this morning, I vowed to come hither by the straight way,\nand I came.\"\n\nThe speaker ceased, and the group of heroes, warriors, notabilities,\nand fair ladies who stood near the Prince stared at him in unbelieving\nastonishment.\n\n\"Good youth,\" said Prince Vladimir, \"you are fair to look upon,\nbut none the less you must be a son of the Father of Lies. Why, the\nstraight way has been lost for thirty years, and all men know of\nit is that athwart it lie great barriers. There are in the plains\ngreat hordes of accursed Tatars, the enemies of Holy Russia; then\nthere is a broad rushing river bordered by the Black Morass; and,\nlast of all, among the shining birches, on the top of seven great\noaks which saw the dawn of history, is raised the nest of Nightingale\nthe Robber. Moreover, that Magic Bird hath nine strong sons and eight\nugly daughters, of whom one has only a single eye, and is therefore\na witch. Now Nightingale the Robber hath permitted neither horse nor\nman to pass by him for thirty years.\"\n\n\"Nay, sire,\" said Ilya with perfect calm, \"I did indeed come by the\nstraight way, and Nightingale the Robber now sitteth as a prisoner\nsecurely bound within the sacred court of the holy temple, where all\nwho thieve must be bound hand and foot.\"\n\nNow the astonishment and curiosity which fell upon the company at this\nannouncement was so great that it overcame the hunger of the lords\nand ladies, who forgot also their courtly dignity as they scrambled\nout from the palace to see the wonder, or at least to test the truth\nof Ilya's words. But Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraxia went out\nslowly upon the railed balcony.\n\nAnd there they saw the wonder for themselves--Nightingale the Robber\nsitting securely bound to the steel stirrup of Cloudfall, the shaggy\nbay steed, with one eye fixed on Kiev city and the other on far-distant\nChernigof, according to the habit he had acquired when awaiting the\nsallies of champions from those two cities within the security of\nhis lofty nest.\n\nThen said Prince Vladimir, full of wonder mixed with curiosity,\n\"Whistle, Nightingale the Robber, roar like a lion, and hiss like\na serpent.\" But the Magic Bird replied with a strange smile which\nhad a long way to travel across his face from eye to eye. \"I am not\nyour prisoner, Prince Vladimir, and do not eat from your bountiful\nhand. However, bring me a bowl of wine, for I am plaguily thirsty,\nand then we shall see what will happen.\"\n\n\"Give him a bowl of green wine,\" said Ilya to the waiting attendants,\n\"a large bowl, capable of accommodating a bucket and a half. And\nbring a large cake of fine wheat flour, for the mouth of the Magic\nBird is parched, and his whistle, roar, and hiss will not be worth\nhearing if he is not refreshed.\"\n\nThen Vladimir himself came forward bringing three large bowls,\none of green wine, the drink of princes, a second of vodka, the\ndrink of peasants, and a third of sweet mead, the drink of fair\nladies; and Nightingale the Robber drained each of the bowls at a\ndraught. Thereupon Ilya commanded the Magic Bird to whistle, roar\nand hiss, but to do so under his breath lest harm should come to the\nroyal party, of whom the ladies were now preparing to hide behind\nthe gentlemen, while the gentlemen were trying to persuade the ladies\nthat it was very uncourtly to stand before such peerless beauties.\n\nThen that wicked pestilent thief began to smile from one eye to the\nother, and it seemed as if a stormy gleam of light passed across the\nopen steppe from Chernigof to Kiev; and out of malice of which his\nblack heart was full, he gave his entertainment at full strength.\n\nAt the sounds which he made all the ancient palaces in the royal city\ncracked, tottered, and tumbled to the ground; the new palaces rocked,\nand only kept their upright position with a great effort. The roofs\nof all the poorer houses moved from their places and fell into the\nstreets, while the walls remained, for they were of a tumble-down\ncharacter in their ordinary state, and not knowing which way to fall\ndecided to remain as they were. Moist Mother Earth quivered like\na man with the ague, the horses of the heroes stampeded from the\npalace stables, the beautiful young ladies hid themselves in corners,\nand the gay youths were so terrified that they ran into other corners\nfar away, where, of course, they could not comfort them. Ilya leaned\nover the balcony and caught up Prince Vladimir under one arm and the\nPrincess Apraxia under the other in order to protect them; yet the\nPrince fell into a swoon from which he did not emerge for three hours.\n\nThen said Ilya, son of strength, in the mightiness of his wrath,\n\"For this base deed of thine, Nightingale the Robber, thou shalt die!\"\n\n\"Spare a few of his family,\" pleaded Prince Vladimir, who had now\nrecovered, and who had never been of a vindictive disposition. \"Spare\nme myself,\" begged the Magic Bird, \"and you shall have all my money\nto build a monastery.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Ilya, \"I will sweep away his pestilent brood and scatter\nhis bones to the winds. As for his ill-gotten gold, no monastery\nwould stand or receive a blessing which was built with it.\"\n\nThereupon he took Nightingale the Robber in his strong white hands and\nled him far out upon the open plain. There he fitted a burning arrow to\nhis stout bow, for his vow no longer held him, seeing that he had come\nto Kiev by the straight way, and shot the fiery dart into the black\nbreast of the Magic Bird. After that he struck off his pestilent head\nand scattered his bones to the winds. Then he sought out his family\nand scattered their bones to the winds also, and mounting Cloudfall,\nhis shaggy bay steed, he went once more to Prince Vladimir.\n\nBy this time the royal company had somewhat recovered their composure,\nand in order to hide their confusion were busily conversing about the\nday before yesterday. When Ilya arrived they were seated at the white\ntables eating savoury viands from the board and drinking green wine\nand sweet mead; and they complimented Ilya very prettily, as soon as he\nhad washed himself. When the feast was over, the Prince gave the hero\nthe supreme honour of ever henceforth styling himself Ilya of Murom\nthe Old Coss\u00e1ck, for it was reckoned the highest honour that a hero\nshould take his title from the land on which he was born, especially if\nit was owned by his father; and Ilya, being a true gentleman, valued\nthis distinction infinitely higher than a heaped-up waggon-load of\nred gold, another of white silver, and a third of fine seed pearls.\n\nAs for those bones of the Magic Bird which were scattered to the winds,\nas they fell to earth they became seeds of the blood-red poppy, from\nthe flowers of which came the first sweet whistling nightingales who\nknow nothing of the roar of the lion or the hiss of the serpent.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nILYA AND FALCON THE HUNTER\n\n\nOne day Ilya rode his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall across the open\nsteppe; and as he went slowly onward he was thinking deeply, for he\nhad performed many deeds of the greatest valour, and was now wondering\ngreatly what he should do next.\n\n\"I have visited many lands,\" he said in a brooding voice, \"and have\nseen many strange people, but for a long time I have not visited Kiev,\nwhere I took Nightingale the Robber as a prisoner firmly bound to my\nstirrup of bright steel. I will go now to Kiev once more, so that I\nmay see what is happening in the household of Prince Vladimir.\"\n\nRaising his head and smiling quietly like a man filled with a\nsecret purpose, he gave Cloudfall the rein, and before he could say\n\"Svyatogor\" he was in the city of Kiev, where it was told him by a\ncook whom he met hurrying across the street that Prince Vladimir was\nholding a merry feast.\n\nIlya at once tethered Cloudfall to the carven pillar in the cathedral\ncourt and took his way on foot to the banquet-hall of Prince Vladimir,\nwhich he entered without invitation, knowing that all wayfarers were\nwelcome to the board of the hospitable Prince.\n\nAs soon as he had passed the threshold, Ilya bowed to North, South,\nEast, and West, and then to Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraxia in\nparticular, thinking that the royal couple would surely have a clear\nremembrance of all the wonderful things that had taken place on his\nlast visit to their town. But neither the Prince nor the Princess\nknew him again, and it was as a perfect stranger that Vladimir\naddressed him.\n\n\"What is your name and to which horde do you belong?\" he asked;\n\"and have you any title of degree?\"\n\n\"Fair Sun Vladimir,\" said Ilya, who was secretly taken aback at his\nreception, but determined not to show it, \"I am called Nikita from\nbeyond the Forest.\"\n\n\"Welcome, my brave and merry little fellow,\" said the Prince with great\nheartiness; \"sit down at our board and eat and drink freely. You will\nfind a little room at the lower end of yonder table. I am sorry there\nis not more room, but your sharp eyes will see at once that I feast\nto-day a noble company of princes, statesmen, wealthy merchants,\nand bold warrior-maids as well as sixty great Russian heroes whose\nadventures have been many.\"\n\nNow Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck did not relish the tone of the\nPrince's speech, and felt it a deep humiliation that the conqueror\nof Nightingale the Robber should break the royal bread at the lower\nend of the table. His anger rose, and raising his head he cried:\n\n\"Fair Sun Vladimir, do you think to place me among the crows while you\nfeast with the eagles? Nay! I will not eat bread with those beneath\nmy degree.\"\n\nSuch a speech from a man who had made no claim to higher rank than that\nof Nikita from beyond the Forest, who was clearly a nobody, roused in\nturn the anger of the Prince. He sprang nimbly to his feet, his face as\nblack as a thunder-cloud, and roared like a crowded den of wild beasts:\n\n\"Ho, there, ye mighty heroes of Holy Russia! Will you hear yourselves\nclassed with carrion crows? Seize the stranger, but take care that\nthree of you hold each arm, hale him to the courtyard and strike off\nhis head.\" Then there was a great commotion, and the cooks began to\nwring their hands, for they knew that if they did not keep the food\nhot while the quarrel was proceeding, the Prince would need new cooks\non the following day.\n\nThree heroes grasped the right arm of Ilya and three heroes grasped his\nleft arm. He waved his right hand and three heroes fell breathless to\nthe floor of red brick; then he waved his left hand and three heroes\nfell on top of them. Thereupon Vladimir roared out a command that\ntwelve fresh heroes should seize him, but these champions fared like\ntheir fellows. Then twelve more rose before him and six more behind;\nand these met the same fate as the rest.\n\nMeanwhile the cooks had been able to snatch away the dishes from\nbeneath the nose of the angry Prince and were now hurrying away to\nplace them in the ovens. Then they heaved in unison such a sigh of\nrelief that the fire burned as brightly as it burns upon a frosty\nnight.\n\nIlya strode forth from the banquet-hall and the anger burned fiercely\nwithin his breast. When he reached the courtyard he turned about and\nfitted an arrow to his bow. As he drew the cord he whispered to the\nshaft, \"Fly, my dart, about the princely towers and strike off the\nspires and crosses of gold from the royal palace.\" Off went the arrow,\nbut it did not travel by a straight road. It made a circuitous tour\nof the pinnacles and domes of the stately building, and as it went on\nits way spire after spire and cross after cross tumbled down upon the\npavement. Ilya gathered up these golden trophies, went to the tavern in\nthe market-place and ordered the landlord to bring out his best green\nwine, for which he would pay with the royal spires and crosses. Then he\nstood in the doorway and invited all the loafers of the market-place\nto come and drink the health of Prince Vladimir, who had been good\nenough, as he grimly remarked, to provide the means of drinking it.\n\nFor once the loafers hesitated to lift the green wine to their\nlips. \"What will the Prince do to us in the morning,\" they asked, \"when\nhe finds that we have drunk up all his golden spires and crosses?\"\n\n\"Drink, my men,\" said Ilya. \"To-morrow I myself will reign as Prince\nin Kiev town, and ye shall be my chiefs.\" Then they drank and drank\nagain; but Ilya of Murom did not put the bowl to his lips in such\ncompany, for he merely meant to use these men in his determination\nto win respect and ample apology from the Prince.\n\nIn the meantime Prince Vladimir sat at the board with the hungry\nrevellers about him; but he was so deeply wrapped in thought that he\ndid not even notice that the cooks had taken away the dishes. \"Who is\nthis who has come to town?\" he asked moodily. Then a young nobleman,\nwhose name was Nikitich, sprang to his nimble feet and said, \"I have\nmet all the mighty heroes of Holy Russia save one, and that one\nis Ilya of Murom, who, I have heard, will not die in battle. This\nwonderful visitor is no Nikita from beyond the Forest. It must be\nnone other than Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck. I fear, my Prince,\nwith all respect to your Highness, that you did not know how to pay\nworthy honour to your guest either at his coming or his going.\"\n\nThe Prince's face lighted up, for the young nobleman who had spoken\nwas the only man in the whole of the company who could read and write,\nand on that account was privileged to speak his mind when his fellows\nfeared for their heads. \"Whom shall we send,\" asked Prince Vladimir,\n\"to invite the hero to our banquet?\" (At these words some of the cooks\nhurried off to prepare fresh food.) \"My royal chamberlain will not\nknow how to address him, and my chief page is like a peacock--only\nfit to strut about in the sun among the women. Go you, Nikitich, for\nyou can read and write and therefore have supernatural wisdom. Bow\ndown before him, with your forehead upon moist Mother Earth, and\ninvite him by his name and title thrice repeated to honour us with\nhis presence at a worshipful feast.\n\n\"Say that I did not, to my lasting sorrow, recognise him when I placed\nhim at the lower end of the board, but that now I entreat him to\nhonour us with his truly remarkable presence. Tell him that I bear no\nill-will for what has passed, and that instead of sitting at the lower\nend of the board--though there is now more room in that quarter--he\nshall sit in the great corner near to the Princess Apraxia herself.\"\n\nNow Nikitich, having learnt to read and write, did not act upon\nrash impulse, but stood for a few moments looking supernaturally\nwise and weighed the matter with the utmost circumspection. \"Shall I\ngo?\" he asked himself. \"It may mean sudden death for me at the hands\nof Ilya. On the other hand, it will certainly mean slow death at\nthe hands of Prince Vladimir if I do not obey. Perhaps I had better\ngo.\" Then with a low bow to the Prince and another to the Princess,\nhe left the banquet-hall with the step of resolution.\n\nIn a few moments he came to the tavern where he saw Ilya of Murom\nthe Old Coss\u00e1ck sitting grimly watching the loafers while they drank\nthe health of Prince Vladimir. \"It will be better,\" said Nikitich to\nhimself, \"if I come upon him from behind, for then I shall be able\nto deliver my message without being put in deadly fear by his eyes\nof terror.\" So he approached Ilya from behind as he sat there and,\nplacing his hands upon the hero's mighty shoulders, told him all\nthat Prince Vladimir had said; but being able to read and write,\nand therefore full of supernatural wisdom, he missed out the sentence\nabout the Prince bearing no ill-will for what had passed.\n\nHad he been able to watch the face of Ilya as he spoke the Prince's\nmessage, Nikitich would have seen a bright gleam of laughter steal into\nthe terrible eyes of the Old Coss\u00e1ck. But when the speech was over,\nIlya did not turn his head. \"It is well for you, young Nikitich,\"\nhe said grimly, \"that you come upon me from behind. If you had\napproached me from before, your body would have been dust and ashes\nbefore now. Go at once and deliver to Prince Vladimir the following\nmessage in answer to his own:\n\n\"Let strict orders be issued to all the inn-keepers of Kiev and\nChernigof that they invite all who care to come to quaff green wine\nat the expense of Prince Vladimir; and for those who care not for\ngreen wine let vodka, the drink of the peasants, be provided; while\nthose who love neither shall drink sweet mead beloved of fair ladies\nand their squires. By this all men shall know that Ilya of Murom the\nOld Coss\u00e1ck who led captive Nightingale the Robber is now come to\ntown. Let the Prince also prepare an honourable banquet and reserve\nthe great corner near the high table for me.\n\n\"Otherwise,\" continued Ilya, at last turning his head and fixing\nhis heroic eyes on the young man of supernatural wisdom who could\nboth read and write, \"otherwise----\" But the ambassador of Prince\nVladimir did not stay to enquire what would happen. The sight of\nIlya's countenance was enough for him, and only the drunken loafers\nheard the completion of the hero's threat \"--the Prince shall reign\nin Kiev no longer than to-morrow's morn.\"\n\nThen quickly, quickly, very very quickly, and with lightning speed,\nran the wise young man to Prince Vladimir, and quickly, quickly, very\nvery quickly, and with lightning speed, were the \"requests\" of Ilya\ncomplied with. Great crowds drew to the tavern, though they came not\nto drink but to see the Old Coss\u00e1ck. They were however disappointed,\nfor Ilya had gone, post-haste upon the heels of the envoy, to take\nhis place at the banquet, taking his invitation for granted. But\nbeing a true gentleman, he bowed on entering the hall to the North,\nSouth, East, and West, and then in particular to Prince Vladimir and\nPrincess Apraxia.\n\nVladimir rose quickly to his feet and cried with hands extended,\n\"Ho, there, Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck. Here is a place for you\nbeside me, in the great corner near the stove. Or if it please you\nto sit elsewhere it shall be as you will.\" So Ilya sat in the great\ncorner, and before long the cooks and the serving men were passing\nto and fro like a whirlwind.\n\nNow, as they sat at meat and as the wine pails freely passed, there\nhappened a very great wonder; for Prince Vladimir turned to pledge Ilya\nof Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck, and behold! he no longer sat in the great\ncorner. The Prince rubbed his eyes in astonishment, but the Princess,\nwith a somewhat scornful smile, told him to look for Ilya under the\nbanquet table. Then they looked, but Ilya was not there. So the Prince\nsent out messengers upon the broad road which ran for forty furlongs\nto the city of Galich; but Ilya was not upon the broad road, and the\nonly man they met was an old pilgrim who was making his way slowly and\npainfully to Kiev town. His smock was tattered with use, and a ragged\ngirdle was bound about his waist. His cap was heavy with moisture,\nhis feet were covered with rotten straw, and he leaned so heavily upon\na crooked staff that the moist earth squirted out beneath his step.\n\nThe ancient pilgrim entered the town and went to the chief inn, where\nhe asked courteously enough for a pail and a half of green wine. \"You\nold grey dog,\" said the inn-keeper, \"we do not trust such as you, nor\ncan we give you green wine without your money.\" Then the old man took\nfrom his neck a cross of gold, wonderfully chased, of great weight,\nand clearly of as great antiquity. \"Take this cross in payment,\" he\nsaid, but not one of the men dared to handle it. Then seeing that the\nold man was faint for want, the peasants about the place gave each a\nkopeck that he might have his wine; and when it was brought to him he\ndrank it in a draught and a half and at a breath and a half. Having\ndone this, he climbed upon the stove, lay down as if he were in his\nmother's cottage, and fell fast asleep.\n\nVery early in the morning, as the warm red sun arose, the old pilgrim\ndescended from the stove, went down to the cellars, burst open the\ndoor with his foot, took a cask of wine under each arm and rolled\na third before him with his right great toe. So he came out to the\ngreen meadow and then into the market-place, where he shouted out,\nin a voice wonderfully strong for so aged a pilgrim, \"Ho, ye peasants\nof the village, come to the old man's feast.\" By this time, however,\nthe men from the tavern were upon him; but though there were many of\nthem they could not take the wine from the old man, so they went to\nmake their complaint to Prince Vladimir.\n\n\"Bring him before me,\" said the royal judge, and they did so. Then\nthe ancient pilgrim raised his eyes, and by means of the smile in\nthe depths of them Vladimir knew him for Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\n\n\"Plague upon my love of fun,\" said Ilya, \"but these thick-headed\nvarlets are easily imposed upon. Let me pay them for my fun and,\nPrince, give me work worthy of a hero.\"\n\n\"The time demands a hero's help,\" said Prince Vladimir, \"for my\nroyal city goes in fear by day and passes sleepless nights in terror\nfor Falcon the Hunter, who rides the heavens and can pass over the\nloftiest barriers to hurl his fiery darts upon every golden pinnacle\nwhich rears upward to the sky. Make a barrier, Ilya, upon the road\nby which he comes, and check him, if you can, with fiery shafts from\nyour magic bow.\"\n\nThen Ilya's eyes gleamed with pleasure, and he called for six of\nthe mightiest heroes to help him to form a barrier in the path of\nFalcon the Hunter; and among the six was Nikitich, the young man of\nsupernatural wisdom who could both read and write, as well as Vaska\nLongskirt, who was very brave but hampered in his fighting by his\nvoluminous coat in which he defied the white world. The seven made\na strong barrier on the road by which Falcon the Hunter took his\nflight, so strong that no horseman ever so swift could gallop by,\nnor wayfarer circumvent it; no wild beast could break it, and if a\nravening eagle or carrion crow soared above it the fiery darts of Ilya\nbrought it down in a shower of feathers and a rain of blood. \"Surely,\"\nsaid Princess Apraxia, whose bright eyes always closed involuntarily\nas Falcon the Hunter was seen riding upon the clouds, \"we shall be\nsafe from the horror that stalks in the darkness by reason of the\nbarrier of Ilya of Murom.\"\n\nBut late that night young Falcon the Hunter passed by, leaping from\none low black cloud to another, and with a dazzling smile scorning\nthe barrier of the seven heroes. In the early dawn Ilya went forth and\ntraced the footsteps of his black horse--a blasted pine tree with its\nheart scorched to charcoal, a tall tower, and several golden pinnacles\nof the royal pavilion lying upon the bosom of moist Mother Earth. He\nwent back to his brother heroes. \"While we slept until the white\ndawn,\" he cried in a loud voice, \"Falcon the Hunter swept by in his\nmalignity. What a barrier is this of ours! What a fortress! Let us\narm ourselves, my friends, and go out upon the steppe to seek this\nrash intruder whose malignant glance causes the Princess Apraxia\nto close her eyes in fear.\" Then they sat down in a circle to hold\na wise council, having no immediate fear of Falcon the Hunter, who\nnever came to the city of many golden pinnacles while the sun shone\nbroadly upon it.\n\n\"Whom shall we send against Falcon the Hunter?\" asked Ilya, who did\nnot intend to go himself until the others had failed. \"It is of little\nuse sending Vaska Longskirt, for he will get entangled in the tails\nof his coat. Nikitich must go, and if he finds that Falcon the Hunter\nis a Russian he shall swear eternal brotherhood with him on behalf\nof all of us. But if he finds he is an infidel he shall challenge\nhim to mortal combat.\"\n\nThen Nikitich sprang to his nimble feet, saddled and mounted his\ngood steed, and rode forth to the place where a great river met the\ndark-grey sea. As he looked along the straight road he saw a rider\nbefore him who sat upon his horse with the assurance of youth and\nvictory. His black steed was full of mettle and fresh from the untamed\nsteppe. At each leap he covered a furlong, and the marks which the\nhoofs of his horse made upon the bosom of moist Mother Earth were as\nlarge as a ram or a full-grown sheep. Flames flashed from the mouth of\nthe steed, lighting up the heavy clouds which hung over the dark-grey\nsea, sparks of blue fire showered from his nostrils, and from his\nerected ears smoke curled in tiny wreaths which quivered and then\nvanished in mid-air. The helmet on the head of the hero glowed like\nfire, and blue rays of light darted from ornaments on his doublet,\nfrom his pointed spurs and his stirrups of bright steel. At his left\nstirrup ran a swift grey-hound, and a fire-eating dragon was chained\nto the right which sang and whistled with a strange music as the horse\nand its rider passed on towards the dark-grey sea. From shoulder to\nshoulder hopped the clear-eyed bird from which Falcon the Hunter took\nhis name, and as it passed it plucked at the long yellow locks of the\nrider, which streamed upon his shoulders like tongues of living flame.\n\nThe knight sat easily upon the back of his strange steed, and as he\nrode he amused himself by hurling his bright steel mace towards the\nlowering clouds which hung threatening over the dark-grey sea. It\nflashed across the cloudy barrier, making a bright reflection in\nthe heaving water, and then returned obedient to the hand of Falcon\nthe Hunter without touching either sea or land in its flight. As he\nplayed, Falcon the Hunter spoke to his wonderful mace: \"Lightly as\nI now whirl this mace aloft, even so lightly will I twirl Ilya of\nMurom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\"\n\nThen Nikitich called out, \"Ho, there, Falcon the Hunter! Have you no\nfear of our barrier?\"\n\nFalcon replied over his shoulder, \"'Tis not for youths even of\nsupernatural wisdom to pursue me in the open plain. It is high time\nthat you were hiding from me in the deep depths of a feather-bed.\"\n\nWhen Falcon the Hunter spoke, the waters of the sea were troubled,\nflecks of foam appeared upon the deep, and the shallows were choked\nwith sand. The charger of Nikitich trembled sorely and fell down\nupon its knees, while its rider sank upon the bosom of moist Mother\nEarth, where he lay as if in a trance for the space of three full\nhours. When he awoke, the sun was shining brightly, the waves upon\nthe ocean danced in glee, and the tumbled rack of grey clouds on the\nhorizon was all dispersed and scattered. But Falcon the Hunter was\nno longer to be seen, for with all his terrors he was afraid of the\njolly sun with his broad and welcoming smile.\n\nNikitich now mounted his charger and rode off at once to report to\nIlya the Old Coss\u00e1ck. The old man listened quietly and then said with\na sigh, \"I grow old, and yet there is none coming after me to take\nmy place.\" Then he saddled his good charger Cloudfall and sprang upon\nhis back without making any use of the stirrups. On the saddle-strap\nhung his war club, mighty in weight; on his left hip rested his sharp\nsword and in his hand he held his silken whip; but for this encounter\nhe placed most reliance upon the fiery darts in the quiver upon his\nbroad back and in the strength of his mighty bow. Thus armed he rode\nforth into the darkness of the mountains, where he found Falcon the\nHunter leaping from summit to summit and rousing the cavernous echoes\nwith his fear-compelling voice. But neither the flashing flames nor\nthe rolling angry accents struck terror to the heart of Ilya, for with\na quick movement he shifted his quiver, which was open at both ends,\nso that the points of the darts pointed heavenwards, and from these\npoints streamed a blue radiance which enveloped the form of the hero\nlike a protecting halo.\n\nAbove the noise of the voice of Falcon the Hunter was heard the voice\nof the heroic Ilya. \"Ho there!\" he cried, \"Thief, dog, braggart! Why\nhave you passed our barrier without doing reverence to me or asking\nmy leave?\" When the Hunter heard this challenge he turned and rode\nat Ilya, and for a moment, though only for a moment, the heart of\nthe hero died within him. But with a tightening of the strap of\nthat wonderful quiver, so that even in the fight his fiery darts\nshould point heavenwards, he rushed into the fray. First they fought\nwith their maces until these snapped short at the hilt, but neither\nfighter was wounded in the least. Then their swords flashed fire until\nboth were splintered, but still neither fighter was wounded in the\nleast. Next they fought with their spears until both were shattered,\nand even yet neither fighter was wounded in the least. Last of all\nthey lighted down upon the ground and fought hand to hand.\n\nAll day they fought, till stormy even, till black midnight, till\nthe grey dawn, and so they did the second day, and likewise the\nthird. Then Ilya waved his right hand, and his left foot slipped\nfrom under him. Down he fell like a stack of hay, but as he fell\nhe was able to move his quiver so that the fiery darts with their\nstreaming blue fire pointed directly heavenwards. As he lay there\nFalcon the Hunter planted himself upon his breast and struck at him\nwith a flashing dagger of steel. But the blow fell upon the upturned\npoints of those wonderful darts and spent itself on the broad bosom\nof moist Mother Earth.\n\n\"See!\" cried Ilya with a grim laugh. \"It was foretold of me that I\nshould not die in battle. Oh, brave good youth, tell me from what\nhorde you come and who were your parents.\"\n\n\"It is time,\" growled Falcon the Hunter, \"that you should shave your\nhead and go to a monastery.\" At this taunt the heart of Ilya grew\nhot and his blood, still youthful, boiled within him. With a mighty\nblow of his fist he struck Falcon on his black breast, hurling him\nskywards, though not so high as the heavy clouds which lowered above\nthe heroic fight. When the Hunter fell once more, Ilya sprang to his\nnimble feet and sat in his turn upon the breast of his enemy.\n\n\"Tell me now, good youth,\" he said, \"the name of thy land, thy horde,\nand thy father.\"\n\n\"When I sat upon thy breast,\" growled Falcon the Hunter, \"I did not\nenquire of thee thy land, thy horde, and thy parentage, for these\nthings concern not me, the enemy of all mankind. And if I sat upon it\nagain I would pierce your bosom, pluck out your heart and examine it in\nmere curiosity, and then scatter the fragments of your white body over\nthe plain, to be torn by the grey wolf and picked by the black crows.\"\n\nThen Ilya asked his enemy no more questions but drew forth his shining\ndagger of steel; and at the sight of this gleaming weapon the heart\nof Falcon the Hunter sank within his breast and he gave the answer\nrequired of him:\n\n\"I come from far across the sea, from the palace of grey stone where\nthe sun has no power to enter, and my mother was the warrior-queen\nZlatigorka. The name of my father I do not know. When I left the palace\nof grey stone my mother, who now is gentle, told me to meet Ilya of\nMurom the Old Coss\u00e1ck if I could, and having met him to dismount from\nmy horse and do reverence to him, touching my forehead upon the bosom\nof moist Mother Earth.\"\n\nThen the fierce eyes of Ilya grew soft with compassion, and his mind\nwent back to the far-off day when he crossed the deep-blue sea in the\nstrength of his manhood to see the palace of grey stone and to talk\nwith the warrior-queen who ruled there; for he had vowed that he would\nwin the love of that brave Princess and take her as his bride. Now,\nbeing a hero, and the maiden a right worthy mate for him, he could\nnot hope, nor would he care, to win the Princess except he had first\nproved that he was stronger than she; and for a long time the two had\nstriven day after day until at times their hearts were sick of the\neternal conflict, yet neither could bring it to an end. Then at last\nthe warrior-queen had weakened and had yielded, and had found more\njoy in yielding than in conquest; and Ilya had given her his golden\nring set with a ruby red as a flaming heart, while she had given him\na wondrous cross of gold to wear upon his heroic breast; and the two\nhad lived in the palace of grey stone until a son was born to them and\nthe fighting queen had forgotten her weapons and her warrior strength\nin her motherhood. Then Ilya had been called away on one of his many\nquests, and the boy had grown up without his heroic guidance--to become\na scourge to his gentle mother and to all mankind. And as he thought\non these matters, the heart of Ilya was saddened beyond measure,\nand stooping over Falcon the Hunter he took him by his white hands,\nkissed his lips and called him his son, weeping greatly as he looked\nupon him. Then raising his hands he blessed him and said:\n\n\"Ride, my son, to the margin of the waters, and then cross the grey\nsea until you come to the palace of grey stone and to your lady mother\nwho lives only in her memories. Greet her lovingly from me, and say\nthat Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck keeps her ever in his golden heart.\"\n\nThen Falcon the Hunter rose to his feet and prepared to do his father's\nbidding. But when he came to the porch of the palace of grey stone\nthese were the words he uttered:\n\n\"Ho, there, bold and evil woman! Come forth! Was it indeed the son\nof a peasant whom you gave me for a father?\"\n\nThen his mother came out upon the porch, and though her face was grey\nwith double grief and she stooped as if she needed the strong arm of\na brave man about her shoulders, the undutiful son struck at her with\nhis flashing sword and she fell dead upon the pavement.\n\nEven this piteous sight did not touch the cold and fiery heart of\nFalcon the Hunter, who shouted out so that the walls of the palace\nof grey stone rang again, \"I go now to give the old peasant, Ilya of\nMurom, to speedy death.\" Thereupon he crossed the grey sea over which\nthe angry clouds were lowering, mounted his charger, and rode quickly\ntowards the fair white linen pavilion of Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\n\nLifting the curtain of the tent, he found his father sleeping and\nhurled a burning shaft at him; but it struck the wondrous cross of\ngleaming gold which Ilya wore upon his heroic breast and glanced\nharmlessly aside, though the mighty blow roused the hero from his\nslumber. He leapt from his couch, seized his undutiful son by his\nyellow curls, and laid him lifeless upon the plain. So Ilya of Murom\nthe Old Coss\u00e1ck freed the people of Holy Russia from their fear of\nFalcon the Hunter, the enemy of all mankind.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURE OF THE BURNING WHITE STONE\n\n\nIlya of Murom rode Cloudfall across the open steppe. For nigh three\nhundred years he had ridden, and he wondered at the youthfulness of\nhis heart which constant danger had kept fresh and young. \"Ah, old\nage, old age! Thou hast chased and overtaken even Cloudfall in the\nopen steppe, and like a bleached raven hast alighted on my head--but\nnot on my arm.\" Then with a youthful gesture he flung out his sword\narm, tightened the girth of Cloudfall and gave the rein to the shaggy\nbay steed.\n\nAway went Cloudfall like the wind, and Ilya as he sat upon him was\nlike the falcon clear. There was no need of bridge or ferryman for\nthis heroic traveller, for good Cloudfall leapt over shining lake\nand rushing river, quivering bog and reedy swamp. And as they rode\nthey came to a place where three roads met, and there stood a burning\nwhite stone on which was inscribed: \"He who rides to the right shall\ngain great wealth; he who rides to the left shall gain a wife; he who\nrides straight forward shall gain his death.\" Then Ilya of Murom the\nOld Coss\u00e1ck halted and stood still with his head bowed in an attitude\nof the deepest thought.\n\n\"I am an old man,\" he said to himself, \"and have all the wealth I need,\nfor it wearies me to count it. Why should an old man wish for a wife? I\nwill take the straight road though Death should sit athwart it.\" Then\nhe added, lifting his head with the light of unquenched youth still\nin his eyes, \"It may be that Death and I shall come to grips in one\nmore great adventure.\"\n\nThen the youthful Old Coss\u00e1ck rode onward for leagues and leagues\nuntil at last he entered a gloomy forest into which he advanced for\nsome distance, and then met a band of forty thousand robbers who cast\neighty thousand envious eyes (save one, for the chief had lost an eye\nin a battle) upon the goodly proportions and intelligent appearance\nof Cloudfall the shaggy bay steed. \"In all our lives,\" they said one\nto another, \"we have never seen such a horse. Halt then, good youth,\nhalt, thou hero of Holy Russia!\" And they would have forced him to\nhalt but Ilya said:\n\n\"Ho, ye robber horde! Why kill an old man and rob him? I have no\nmoney in my wallet save five hundred roubles. The cross of gold upon\nmy breast is worth only five hundred--to any one of your company--my\ncloak of sables about three thousand, my cap and my sandals about five\nhundred each, my bridle, set with precious stones, about a thousand. My\nsaddle, bordered with eagle feathers,--I hunted that eagle over the\nblue sea on the way to the palace of grey stone--is priceless and\ntherefore of no value to any of your company. Between the ears of\nCloudfall and under his eyes are clear stones of purest jacinth,\nbut he wears these, not for youthful vanity, but because they help\nhim to see for thirty miles on all sides as he bounds across the open\nsteppe. As for my faithful shaggy bay steed Cloudfall, he is worth\nnothing at all, except to me. Here then is my inventory. Value me I\npray you for yourselves.\"\n\nThe robber leaders jeered as they replied, \"Thou art old and talkative,\nCoss\u00e1ck. Since we took to roaming across the white world, we have\nnever met with such a fool. Why, thou art so foolish that thou hast\ntold us all the clear truth. Seize the old man, my brothers.\"\n\nBut as the robbers advanced upon him, Ilya of Murom drew a fiery dart\nfrom his quiver, and fixing it to his terrible bow shot at a tree to\nhis right hand which was the grandmother of all the oaks. The mighty\ntrunk was shivered into fragments, and the earth was ploughed up\nround about by the force of that tremendous blow, at the sound of\nwhich all the robbers fell flat upon the earth, where they lay for\nthe space of five hours before they recovered themselves. And when\nthey arose again to an erect posture the leader said:\n\n\"Good youth, noble hero of Holy Russia! Enter thou into comradeship\nwith us. Take from our goodly store whatever pleases you of golden\ntreasure, embroidered cloth, horses and cattle.\" But Ilya laughed the\njolly laugh of the adventurer to whom goods and gear, however rich,\nare a trouble and a burden. \"Ah, brothers, my brave foes,\" he said,\n\"I have no wish to be troubled with guarding treasure, feeding horses,\nand tending cows and sheep. I must ride and ride ever onward across\nthe open steppe and leave the guarding of treasure to shop-keepers\nand merchants who live in towns behind bolts and bars.\"\n\nThen Ilya of Murom turned Cloudfall in his tracks, and came again\nto the burning white stone, from which he erased the inscription and\nwrote in its place:\n\n\n    I, Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck, have ridden straight forward\n    and have not gained my death.\n\n\nOnce more the aged hero with the heart of youth rode out into the open\nsteppe, turning this time to the left. He rode onward for three hundred\nmiles and then came to a smooth meadow as green as an emerald stone,\nand upon this meadow stood a wonder of wonders. It was too small\nto be called a city and too large to be called a village. It was,\nin truth, a beautiful palace of white stone with roofs of shining\ngold and strange three-cornered towers.\n\nIlya drew rein before the golden gateway, whereupon there came forth\nupon the green sward forty beautiful maidens, who walked proudly\nbehind Princess Zenira the All Fair. Ilya dismounted and bowed low,\nwhereupon the beautiful Princess took him by his white hands, kissed\nhim on the lips, and invited him to a feast in the banquet-hall of the\npalace of white stone. \"I have travelled far in Holy Russia,\" said Ilya\nof Murom, \"but I have never seen such a fair palace or such beautiful\nladies.\" The maidens bowed their heads, like ears of corn before a\ngentle breeze, and the Princess led the hero within the palace.\n\nWhen they came to the banquet-hall, Ilya bowed to North, South,\nEast, and West, and especially to the Princess Zenira, who placed\nhim at the table of fair white oak in the big corner and brought him\nfood of the best with sweet mead to drink. \"Do not eat or drink of\nthese things until you are satisfied, good youth,\" she said gently,\n\"for there is more to come.\" But Ilya looked at her as she spoke,\nand looked at her again, and for a third time he scanned her face\nand found it beautiful with the beauty of the newly-fallen snow\non the wide steppe when the moon rises; that was the beauty of the\nPrincess Zenira. Then Ilya's eyes fell once more upon the fair white\noak of the table and he said, speaking as one who knows his meaning,\n\"I have ridden for three hundred miles and my hunger and thirst are\nas heroic as my steed.\" So he ate and drank his fill.\n\nThen as his head seemed to droop upon his breast, though in reality\nhe was more wide awake than ever, the Princess Zenira led him to a\nrich warm chamber at one side of which stood a broad bed of yew wood\nand ivory with pillows of the softest down.\n\n\"Here you will rest as on the lap of your mother,\" said the fair\nPrincess, \"but I advise you to lie near to the brick wall which is\nwarm from the stove beneath.\" \"Nay,\" said the hero, \"I will lie upon\nthe outer edge for I often rise in the night to see for myself that\nCloudfall is well stabled.\" Then without more ado, he seized the fair\nPrincess Zenira by the middle and flung her upon the bed of yew wood\nagainst the wall.\n\nAnd behold the bed of yew with pillows of softest down was false, for\nit turned on a pivot when the weight was cast upon the side nearer\nto the brick wall, and the fair Princess was hurled down into her\ndungeon, forty fathoms deep. Then Ilya turned and left the chamber,\nand coming out into the courtyard said in the voice of him who must\nbe obeyed: \"Give me the keys of gold which unlock the doors of the\ndungeon and show me the way to the dark vaults beneath this palace\nof white stone.\" So they pointed out the way, and he found it choked\nwith yellow sand and barred with huge logs of wood.\n\nHe had really no need of keys of gold, silver, iron, or steel; for\nin the strength of his heroic anger he tore the locks asunder with\nhis hands and forced back the doors with his heels until they burst\nfrom their frames. Then came forth from the dungeons forty Tsars\nand Tsareviches, forty kings and princes, with their eldest sons,\ntogether with Nikitich the youth of supernatural wisdom, who could\nboth read and write, but whose wonderful learning had not made him\nproof against the wiles of Princess Zenira although her beauty was\nonly that of the newly-fallen snow upon the steppe illumined by the\ncold rays of the rising moon.\n\nThere stood this great company, blinking their eyes in the light and\nlooking very foolish, and as they hummed and ha'ed and wondered how\nto explain themselves, the fair Princess Zenira, as beautiful as ever,\ncame round a corner of the dark passage, and her moonlight beauty lit\nup the darkness of the dungeon. In spite of all their experiences\nit was clear that her fascination still worked upon the hearts of\nthe prisoners, and seeing this Ilya cried in a voice which shook the\nvaults until they re-echoed again and again, \"Tsars, to your tsardoms;\nkings, to your kingdoms; Nikitich, to my side; and, being delivered,\nsay a prayer for Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\"\n\nIn a few moments the whole company with the exception of Nikitich\nwas racing pell-mell across the emerald meadow, and having dismissed\nthe youth of supernatural wisdom, Ilya advanced sternly upon the\nfair Princess Zenira. He took her by her lily-white hands and bound\nher to three Coss\u00e1ck ponies fresh from the farthest steppe. Then he\ndrove them apart and turned his head that he might not see the end of\nthat white witch; and he divided her treasure among the prisoners,\nsending each man's share to his kingdom, and gave the fair white\npalace to the flames.\n\nOnce more Ilya returned to the burning white stone, crossed out the\nold inscription and wrote yet another which ran:\n\n\n    I, Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck, have ridden to the left and\n    have not gained a wife\n\n\n\"I will go now,\" said Ilya, \"upon the last road, where wealth is to be\nwon.\" So he rode again over the open steppe, and came at length to a\ngreen meadow where deep pits were dug, and then to a dark and gloomy\nforest in which there was a mountain cave filled with fair red gold,\nwhite silver, and fine seed pearls; and above the entrance to the cave,\nin the face of the smooth rock, were carved the words,\n\n\n    \"This treasure will fall to Ilya of Murom.\"\n\n\nFor seven days Ilya sat wondering what he should do to dispose of\nthe treasure. Then he arose and went to the nearest town, where he\nhired builders and carpenters, architects and workers in metal. These\nmen he set to work to build a fair cathedral on the place where the\ngloomy forest had stood, and when the glorious building was completed,\nhe instituted church singing and the sound of bells, for in these\nthings his soul delighted. When this work had been finished--and it\noccupied a fair space of time--Ilya returned to Kiev city, where the\ncourteous Prince Vladimir asked him where he had been.\n\nSitting down in the great corner near the stove, the old man smiled\ngently, stretched his feet to the blaze, and told the Prince the\nAdventure of the Three Roads and of the Burning White Stone. Then he\nyawned and went to bed in the peace of accomplishment.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHOW QUIET DUNAI HAD BROUGHT THE PRINCESS APRAXIA TO KIEV\n\n\nThe tale of the wedding of Vladimir and the Princess Apraxia was one\nwhich was often told after a banquet; and here it is:\n\nQuiet Dunai was a great traveller, and one who loved to move without\nturbulence, leisurely and at his chosen ease. From land to land he\nwandered, both seeing and observing, across the green and open steppe\nin summer, but resting in the winter within whatever palace of fair\nwhite stone he could find a seat in the great corner and hearers who\nwould listen quietly to his traveller's tales.\n\nAt last he came to the kingdom of Lithuania, where in the palace of\nthe monarch he served for three years as equerry with the care of the\nKing's horses and chargers; for three more years he served as Grand\nSteward with the oversight of the great banquets with which the King\nhonoured his nobles; for three more years he served as Groom of the\nChambers, and knew all the King's mind. And during all these years he\nloved, at times somewhat turbulently but yet on the whole quietly and\ndevotedly and faithfully and hopefully, the Princess Nastasya, who in\nher turn favoured him silently and kept him ever in her golden heart.\n\nNow, on a certain day, the King of Lithuania made a great feast and\ninvited all his nobles to share his hospitality. Quiet Dunai was\nvery busy with the preparations for the banquet, and on one of his\nmany visits to the King's apartments he happened to meet, quite by\naccident, the Princess Nastasya. She looked at him quietly and said:\n\n\"Go not to this banquet, quiet Dunai, for there will be much eating\nand more drinking, and when the boasting time comes near the end of\nthe feast you will brag of me.\"\n\n\"I know you will, Dunai,\" she added gently, and Dunai looked at\nher quietly, feeling in his heart that what she said could not be\ndenied. \"Then they will set upon you, Dunai, and you will lose your\nhead.\" Hereupon the Princess sighed gently and looked down at the\npoint of her golden slipper. But Dunai, quiet as he was, had no mind\nto avoid the feast, and declared his intention of being present; and\nthe Princess turned and left him humming a light song which seemed\nto have lost its merriment.\n\nThe feast was held, and when the guests had eaten well and drunk\nbetter, then came the boasting time, when quiet Dunai took his turn\nwith the rest, telling of his far wanderings, of the King's favour\nand rewards, and of how the beautiful young Princess Nastasya kept him\never in her golden heart. Then the King grew very angry and cried out:\n\n\"Ho, there, ye headsmen, seize quiet Dunai by his white hands, lead\nhim out upon the open steppe and chop off his turbulent head.\"\n\nWithout delay the pitiless headsmen bore down upon Dunai and seized\nhim by the shoulders. \"I go without help from you,\" he said quietly\nas he shook them off; \"but as you lead me to the open steppe see that\nwe pass by the window of the Princess Nastasya, who keeps me ever in\nher golden heart.\"\n\nThen there happened a great wonder, and yet it was no wonder at\nall. Before they had reached the window of the Princess, Dunai said\nquietly, \"Sleepest thou, Nastasya? Wakest thou not? Lo, they are\nleading Dunai to the open steppe to cut off his loving head.\"\n\nNow the Princess lay sleeping when the whisper rustled through her\ncasement and woke her very gently. Without delay she rose from her\ncouch and put on a loose robe of fair white linen. But she had no\ntime to fasten round it a girdle of gold, or to bind up her flowing\ntresses, before she heard the voice of Dunai once more, this time\nin tones of thunder, \"Sleepest thou, Nastasya? Wakest thou not? Lo,\nthey are leading Dunai to the open steppe to cut off his loving head.\"\n\nThen the Princess ran with her feet all bare out into the open\ncorridor, from which she could see the prisoner and his guards,\nand stretching out her little hands in piteous entreaty she cried:\n\n\"Ho, there, ye pitiless headsmen! Take what treasure you desire,\nbut when you come to the open steppe set free quiet Dunai that he\nmay wander once again. And take back to the King the head of some\nprisoner who has paid for his crimes with his death--some one, any\none except quiet Dunai.\"\n\nThen the headsmen made signs to the Princess that they would obey her,\nand the group passed out to the open steppe where quiet Dunai was set\nfree and wandered on as he had done before he became the officer of\nthe King of Lithuania and loved the Princess Nastasya. On he went,\nquietly watching until he came to Kiev town, where he went to the\ninn and entered into conversation with men of the place. From these\nfellows he learnt that Prince Vladimir was holding a great feast,\nand that his guests were eating the white swan and drinking green\nwine of priceless value.\n\nAs it happened, just at that moment the boasting time had come. One\nman bragged of his horse, another of his valour, a third of his sharp\nsword, a fourth of his young wife, and a wise man who had not drunk\nso well, of the goodness of his father and the tenderness of his\nmother. In time, Prince Vladimir grew weary of their boasting and\nstood up among them, whereupon all their voices were hushed.\n\n\"Boast not, my brothers,\" he said with a show of impatience. \"Glory\nnot in your horses, your great deeds, your golden treasures. Have not\nI red gold, white silver, and fine seed pearls in great abundance? But\nin one matter most of you outstrip me. For ye have wives loving and\nbeautiful, while I, your Prince, am still unwed. Is there no Princess\nwho is my mate, and who will wed with me? She must be like a goddess\nin stature and like a goddess in the perfection of her beauty, of\ndelicate grace, and stately of gait like the peacock. There must be a\nfaint flush in her face like unto the white hare, while her eyes must\nbe falcon clear and full of light. Yellow hair must she have, with\neyebrows of blackest sable, and her speech must be entrancing. Then,\nhaving found her, I shall have one beside me with whom I may think\nmy deepest thoughts and take counsel, and to whom ye mighty princes,\nheroes, and all Kiev may pay homage as your queen.\"\n\nThen all the guests grew silent, and for a long time no man spoke a\nword; and as often as the eye of Vladimir sought out one man, he took\npains to hide himself behind some one bigger. At length there stood\nup in his place the bold, brave youth Nikitich, who could both read\nand write, and said:\n\n\"My lord and master, Prince Vladimir, have I leave to speak what is\nin my mind without fear of speedy death or distant exile or heavy\nchastisement?\"\n\nAnd Vladimir said, \"Say on, Nikitich, and God may forgive you if you\nspeak unwisely.\"\n\nThen the bold youth said fearlessly:\n\n\"I know a fitting mate for you who is all that you have said, a beauty\nwith whom none can compare in all the white world. For myself, I have\nnot seen her, but of her loveliness I have often heard from my comrade,\nquiet Dunai, who sitteth now in the inn and hath no garments to fit\nhim out for appearance at this honourable feast.\"\n\n\"Take my golden keys,\" said Vladimir, \"and open my wardrobes. Choose\nfrom thence all that quiet Dunai requires of raiment, and bring him\nto me.\"\n\nThen Nikitich went out and did all that the Prince had ordered;\nand as he passed through the streets with quiet Dunai by his side,\nthe maidens and the wives, young and old, put forth their heads from\nthe windows, asking each other across the narrow way, \"Whence come\nsuch goodly youths as these?\"\n\nAs soon as they had come into the banquet hall, Dunai bowed to North,\nSouth, East, and West, and especially to Prince Vladimir, and they\ngave him a seat in the great corner by the fair white oaken table. Then\nthey set food and wine before him, and when he had refreshed himself,\nPrince Vladimir poured out green wine into a crystal goblet from\nthe East with a rim of thick gold and brought it to quiet Dunai, who\ntook the cup in one hand and quaffed its contents at a breath. Then\nhe stood up and said steadily:\n\n\"I know a bride fit even to mate with you, Prince Vladimir, the Fair\nSun of Kiev. The King of Lithuania has two fair daughters. The eldest,\nthe Princess Nastasya, is no mate for you, for she loves best to\nride abroad in the open plain seeking adventures, but her sister,\nthe Princess Apraxia, sits at home in a fair chamber of her palace\nembroidering a kerchief of white linen with threads of ruddy gold. She\nsits behind thrice nine locks of cunning workmanship and thrice nine\nguards in a lofty castle, and the ruddy sun may not scorch her nor the\nfine and frequent rains drop upon her, nor the stormy winds disarrange\nher braided locks of yellow gold, while no venturesome breeze may mar\nthe delicate flush in her face like unto the white hare. I have not yet\nseen her, but I know of her peerless beauty and speak of what I know.\"\n\n\"Hear ye this, my Russian heroes!\" cried Prince Vladimir, while his\neyes shone brightly and his face was wreathed in smiles. \"Whom shall\nwe send as our royal envoy to far-off Lithuania?\"\n\nThen one of the heroes spoke out:\n\n\"Prince Vladimir,\" he said, \"we have none of us been in strange\nlands with strange customs, nor talked in strange speech with strange\npeople. In a matter where more than strength and goodwill is needed,\nnamely, the wooing of a fair Princess, I doubt that none of your\nheroes would serve you well. Send quiet Dunai. He has been ambassador\nto royal courts and has received ambassadors also. He can talk in\nstrange speech as well as fight; let him woo the fair Princess Apraxia\nfor you, and when she comes here, as she surely will, we will eat the\nwhite swan and drink green wine in her honour, and crack skulls, too,\nif she needs such heroic help.\"\n\nThe truth of these words could not be denied, and as the hero who\nhad spoken, suddenly realising that he had made a wise speech, hid\nin confusion behind his neighbour at the table, Prince Vladimir rose\nto his feet and said:\n\n\"Go in my name, quiet Dunai, to the far-famed Lithuanian kingdom and\nwoo the Princess Apraxia for me with all the skill at your command.\"\n\n\"I go at your bidding,\" said quiet Dunai, with a bow, \"but it is not\nfitting that I should go alone.\"\n\n\"Take a great army with you, if you will,\" said the Prince, \"and if\nthe King will not send his daughter with his blessing take her with\nhis curse.\"\n\n\"I need no army,\" said quiet Dunai, \"nor yet rich store of treasure to\ntempt the King to sell his daughter. Send Nikitich with me. He is my\nbeloved comrade, a man of good birth who knows how to read and write,\nand therefore understands how to deal with people. Give us only two\nshaggy colts, fresh from the steppe, which have never borne saddle\nor bridle, and prepare a parchment scroll setting forth to the King\nthat you desire the Princess Apraxia, not for youthful vanity, but\nfor helpfulness that you may make her your wife, to whom all your\nthoughts will be made known, and who will share in all your counsels.\"\n\nThese things were done in exact accordance with the wishes of quiet\nDunai, who then left the palace in the company of Nikitich. In the\ncourtyard they found awaiting them two shaggy colts, fresh from the\nsteppe, which had never borne saddle or bridle. Upon these they fitted\nplaited bridles of many-coloured silks and saddle-cloths of silk,\nnot for youthful vanity but for ease to their steeds. Over these they\nlaid thick felts, and then their saddles of stout leather secured by\ntwelve girths with silver buckles, while the buckles of the stirrups\nwere of fine ruddy gold.\n\nThen they dressed themselves in silken robes and Saracen caps, took up\ntheir maces of steel from Damascus, their mighty bows, and their silken\nwhips, and, mounting their frisky chargers, rode quickly through the\nnarrow streets of Kiev city. Before long they came to the outskirts and\nthen out upon the open plain, when they urged on their shaggy steeds,\nspurring them gently and persuading them further with their whips of\nbraided silk. Past deep lakes they rode and through dense forests,\ncrashing through the undergrowth where the hoof of horse had never\ntrodden, until they came at last, and after a long journey, to the\nbrave land of Lithuania and the royal palace of its King.\n\nQuiet Dunai asked no leave of guards, porters, or gate-keepers, but\nflung the barriers wide and led the horses into the spacious courtyard,\nwhere they dismounted. Leaving Nikitich on guard over the chargers,\nDunai took the bridles in his left hand, and in his right his club\nof elm-wood.\n\n\"Stand there, Nikitich,\" said quiet Dunai, \"and look steadfastly\ntowards the hall of royal audience. When I call, come!\"\n\nThen quiet Dunai crossed the courtyard and went into the hall of\nroyal audience, where he found the King sitting upon his throne,\nand said to him in a quiet tone:\n\n\"Hail, little father, King of brave Lithuania!\"\n\n\"Hail, quiet Dunai!\" said the King. \"Whither do you wander? Have you\ncome to fight against us or to serve us as before? But before you\nanswer, eat your fill and drink all that you need.\" Then he set him in\nthe great corner, and when he had refreshed himself somewhat hastily,\nDunai said:\n\n\"My errand is peaceful, little father. I come on behalf of the Fair\nSun, Vladimir of Kiev, to woo your daughter the Princess Apraxia.\" Then\nhe laid the parchment scroll upon the table, and the King spelled out\na little of it, a little and no more, but that was enough to make him\ntear in anger at the black curls upon his forehead and stamp his feet\nupon the floor of red brick.\n\n\"Stupid and dolt is Prince Vladimir of Kiev, who sends as his envoy\nsuch a slave as you. Ho there, my merciless jailors! Seize quiet\nDunai by his white hands and by his flowing curls, and lead him down\nto the deepest dungeon. Shut him in, bar the door, heap up against it\nlogs of wood and iron gratings, and then over all pile up the yellow\nsand. Feed him on frozen oats and let him drink cold spring water\nuntil he returns to his senses.\"\n\nQuiet Dunai hung his head for a moment, and dropped his clear eyes to\nthe floor of red brick. Then he raised his white hand and smote the\ntable with his fist so that the wine was spilled, the dishes rolled\nupon the floor, the tables tumbled down and the pillars of the hall\nleaned this way and that, while the roof groaned and creaked. The\nservants of the King fled this way and the other, while their master\ngathered up the skirts of his royal robe and ran at great speed up\nthe winding stairway to the top of his lofty tower, never pausing even\nto take a deep breath until he was safely hidden beneath a thick rug\nof marten skins.\n\nThen quiet Dunai took one light leap over the King's golden chair,\nseized one of the stout attendants by the heels, and using him as a\nclub, began to slay the rest. \"This club is tough,\" he said quietly\nbut a little grimly to himself, as he went on with his work. \"He will\nnot break. He is wiry and will not tear.\" Then raising his voice he\ncalled through the window, \"Ho, there, Nikitich!\" and the young man\nentered the hall, snatched up another attendant by the heels, and\nbegan to assist quiet Dunai in the first part of his strange wooing\nof the Princess Apraxia.\n\nBut by and by the two friends heard the voice of the King through\nthe window of the topmost apartment of his lofty tower. \"Ho, there,\nquiet little Dunai!\" he cried. \"Forget not my kindness towards you\nof old. Let us sit again together, you in the big corner, to discuss\nthe wooing of Prince Vladimir. Take my elder daughter the Princess\nNastasya, for I know little of her seeing that she loves adventure\non the open steppe, and I shall not miss her so much.\"\n\n\"I will not,\" said quiet Dunai, and went on with his work, Nikitich\nalso ceasing not to assist him.\n\n\"Take, then, the Princess Apraxia,\" cried the King in great haste,\nand the two friends paused to gather breath. Then quiet Dunai went\nto the great castle and began to knock off the thrice nine locks,\nand to force open the doors. He entered the tower with the golden\nroof and came to the apartment where the Princess Apraxia was pacing\nto and fro clad in a fine robe without a girdle, her golden hair all\nunbound and her feet all bare.\n\n\"Hail, Princess,\" said the royal envoy, bowing courteously, \"and pardon\nmy coming without announcement. Will you wed with Prince Vladimir,\nthe Fair Sun of Kiev?\"\n\n\"For three years,\" said the Princess, \"have I longed and prayed that\nVladimir might be my husband.\" Then quiet Dunai took her by the small\nwhite hands, kissed her golden ring, and led her at once into the\ncourtyard where they met the King.\n\n\"Take with the Princess,\" he said, \"her royal dowry,\" and he gave\nimmediate orders for the loading of thirty wagons with red gold, white\nsilver, and fine seed pearls. Then the Princess arrayed herself, and\ncoming forth again rode away with the goodly youths over the smiling,\nfar-reaching, green and open plain; and as they rode she sang softly\nto herself of love and freedom and a fair white throne.\n\nWhen the dark night fell the two youths set up a white linen pavilion,\nin which the Princess Apraxia rested, while they lay down near the\nentrance with their shaggy steeds at their feet, their sharp spears\nat their heads, their stout swords at their right hands and their\ndaggers of steel at their left. Both slept, for their steeds were\ntheir sentinels, and the dark night passed by with nothing seen except\nthe stars, nothing heard except the rustle of the breeze round the\ncurtains of the fair white linen bower of the Princess Apraxia.\n\nWhile it was still early morning they arose, and were setting out\nagain upon their way, when, looking back, they saw a Tatar horseman\nin pursuit of them, his steed all bespattered with the mire of the\nplain. When Dunai was aware of this, he sent Nikitich forward to Kiev\ntown with the Princess Apraxia, but remained himself to meet the bold\nadventurer, who surely had not heard how quiet Dunai had wooed the\nPrincess Apraxia for his royal master.\n\nIn the midst of the plain the combatants met, and, without taking\ntime to observe each other closely, but each taking the other for an\naccursed Tatar, they fell to resounding blows. In a few moments quiet\nDunai was unhorsed, but he sprang at once to his nimble feet and fought\nhis foe with mace and spear and sword, until he laid him prone upon the\nbroad bosom of moist Mother Earth. Then quiet Dunai drew his dagger:\n\n\"Tell me now,\" he said, as he brushed the dew of onset from his eyes\nwith his left sleeve, \"the name that you bear and the name of the\naccursed horde from whence you come.\"\n\n\"If I sat on your white breast,\" said the stranger, \"I would not ask\nyour name and horde, but would stab you to the heart.\" Then quiet\nDunai raised his dagger and would have pierced the heart of his foe,\nbut with his will, or without his will, his arm stiffened at the\nshoulder and that blow never fell, for now he saw in the prostrate\nfigure before him the form of a woman--while the fallen headgear\nrevealed the parted, flowing hair and the low brow of the Princess\nNastasya who loved quiet Dunai and kept him ever in her golden heart.\n\nWithout a word of speech, but with a heart full of deep and tender\nreproach, quiet Dunai took Nastasya by her lily-white hands, and\nraising her to her nimble feet, looked at her until he knew of her\nforgiveness and then kissed her sugar mouth. \"Let us go,\" he said\nquietly, \"to Kiev town and take the golden crowns.\" Then he placed her\nupon his good steed, took from her the mace of steel and the sharp\nsword which she bore, and, mounting behind her, rode onward to the\ncity of Prince Vladimir.\n\n\"I came to seek my sister,\" said the Princess, as if suddenly\nremembering the cause of her ride.\n\n\"You shall find her in Kiev town,\" said Dunai, \"and there she and\nPrince Vladimir will also take the golden crowns.\"\n\nThen Nastasya spoke no further, for she was too contented for speech,\nand they rode ever onward across the open steppe, the glorious\nfar-reaching, sun-lit, boundless plain.\n\nThus they came to Kiev town, and went at once to the great church. In\nthe outer porch they met Prince Vladimir and the Princess Apraxia who\nhad also come thither to take the golden crowns. The sisters greeted\neach other with love, and the company went into the dim coolness\nof the great church and up to the high altar where a priest awaited\nthem. And there Prince Vladimir was wedded to the Princess Apraxia\nwhile the singing boys held the golden crowns above their heads, and\nquiet Dunai was wedded to the Princess Nastasya while the singing boys\nheld in turn the golden crowns above their heads; and when that was\ndone the whole company went to the palace of Prince Vladimir, where\nsuch a feast was laid as had not been prepared since the coming of\nthe Prince to his royal city; and quiet Dunai sat in the great corner.\n\nFor three years they lived in mirth and joy, the Princess Apraxia\nkeeping to her palace, her fine embroidery and her household and\nknowing all her husband's thoughts; the Princess Nastasya sharing her\nhusband's life of quiet wandering, both of them being quite content\nin the summer with the life on the boundless steppe and in winter\nreturning to the palace of white stone in fair Kiev city.\n\nThen Prince Vladimir made another great feast, and when it came to\nthe boasting time quiet Dunai bragged with the loudest:\n\n\"In all this royal city,\" he said, \"there is no such hero as quiet\nDunai. From the land of Lithuania he carried away two white swans of\nglorious plumage, one of whom he took for himself while he gave away\nthe other with ungrudging hand.\"\n\nThe Princess Nastasya looked at him, and a world of wisdom was in\nher glance. \"Your boast is emptiness, Dunai,\" she said. \"I have not\ndwelt long in this city, but I have learnt much. There are handsomer,\nbraver, more courteous heroes in Kiev town whom I could name. Neither\nin deeds nor promise are these men lacking, and, apart from them,\neven I, the wife of a boaster, have some skill with the bow. Let us\ntake a stout bow and set up a sharp dagger on the open steppe a mile\naway, and before the dagger a silver ring. Then let us shoot through\nthe ring of silver at the sharp dagger in such a skilful way that\nthe shaft may fall into two equal parts against the dagger, into two\nparts exactly equal both to the eye and to the discerning hand which\ncan tell weight from weight.\"\n\nThereupon quiet Dunai was very angry, but he said steadily, \"It\nis well, little Nastasya. Let us go to the open steppe, set up a\nsharp dagger a mile away with a silver ring before it, and shoot our\nfiery darts as you have said.\" So they went out to put the matter to\nthe trial. Nastasya shot a flaming arrow, which passed through the\nring as through the open air, fell upon the sharp blade and was cut\ninto two parts exactly equal both to the eye and to the discerning\nhand. Then quiet Dunai shot a flaming arrow, and it sped too far;\nhe shot a second, and it sped not far enough; he shot a third, which\ncame not near the silver ring and was not seen again. Then he shot a\nfourth into the breast of Nastasya, and she fell upon the open plain\nwhere she had loved to wander.\n\nAnd still in the moment of her death she loved quiet Dunai and\nkept him ever in her golden heart. \"Forgive, my lord, my foolish\nwoman's words,\" she said, \"and tend with care the son of mine whom\nI leave in Kiev town, for such a boy is not to be found in all the\nworld. His little legs are silver to the knee, his arms to the elbow\nare of purest gold; upon his open forehead glows the fair round sun,\nupon his golden head glitter countless stars, and at the back of\nhis head the bright moon shineth.\" So she spoke in her death-pain,\nand the heart of quiet Dunai burned within his breast for deep grief\nand scorching remorse and torturing pity. \"Where the white swan fell,\"\nhe said, \"there shall fall the falcon bright.\"\n\nThen he placed the handle of his sword in the bosom of moist Mother\nEarth and fell with his white breast upon the sharp point. And from\nthat spot far away across the boundless plain flowed two gently\nwandering streams. The greater was the Dnieper, deep and full and\nquiet, yet resistless in its noiseless might, which ran past Kiev town;\nthe lesser was the Dwina, which flowed to the kingdom of Lithuania. And\nwhere the two streams met, two cypress trees sprang up, and their\nbranches twined lovingly together, whispering when the breeze arose\nin tender tones of love and pity of the steadfastness of the Princess\nNastasya, who loved quiet Dunai and kept him ever in her golden heart.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF NIKITICH AND MARINA\n\n\nThe day of the birth of Nikitich had been a day of trouble for wide\ndistances across the open steppe. For upon that wonderful day a\ngreat storm seemed to arise, and yet not a great storm but a strange\ncommotion, unseen, unheard, but keenly felt. From far across the open\nplain came a herd of beasts, wild beasts and fearsome dragons large\nand small, and sought the shallow valley of the Dnieper river. At\ntheir head ran the Skiper-beast, with woolly fleece, twisted horn,\nand hoofs which struck sparks from the pebbles of flint. Then the\nwaters of the Dnieper were strangely troubled, the banks of the river\nquaked and fell, and trees which once had waved upright now spanned\nthe stream. Such had been the day of the birth of Nikitich.\n\nNow when he grew up to youthful manhood, Nikitich sought service in the\nroyal household of Prince Vladimir, and though he was of supernatural\nwisdom, having learnt to read and write, he served with the rest,\nfor three years in the palace, for three years in the royal gardens,\nand for three years as keeper of the gate; but for all his faithful\nservice he won no praise of Vladimir and no reward except a horse of\nthe finest mettle, and he was kept always within the confines of the\nroyal palace. But at a certain princely banquet Nikitich rose to his\nfeet in his place at one end of the oaken board, and said:\n\n\"Prince Vladimir, Fair Sun of royal Kiev, I have served thee long and\nfaithfully, but always within the confines of the royal palace. Give\nme leave to wander farther, and first of all through the narrow lanes\nof Kiev town.\"\n\n\"Young nestling,\" said Prince Vladimir, \"fly not from the nest. Young\ncolt of the open steppe, gallop not away.\" But the heroes of Holy\nRussia who sat at the board of Prince Vladimir had pity upon the\nyoung man and they said, \"Go, Nikitich, and ask your mother.\" Then\nVladimir laughed and gave the young man leave.\n\nAnd the counsel of the mother of Nikitich ran thus:\n\n\"Walk at will through all the streets of Kiev town and roam through\nall the little by-ways. But avoid a certain little lane where dwells\nthe Princess Marina, for she is a witch of the vilest who has brought\nto their death many Tsars and Tsareviches, Kings, and Crown Princes,\nnobles and their heirs. If you go near the Princess Marina you will\nlose your life.\"\n\nBut, sad to tell, the counsel had this effect upon the young man,\nthat he longed most of all to go to the certain little lane where\ndwelt the Princess Marina.\n\nOn the next day he rose very early and washed himself very white in\nclear water from the spring. Then he took his stout bow in his hand\nand slung his quiver of gleaming arrows upon his back. He wandered on\nthrough the streets and narrow lanes and came at length to a certain\nlittle lane where he found the palace of the Princess Marina. It was\nfinely built and richly adorned, while in the window of one apartment\nsat a mated pair of dark-blue doves cooing lovingly with yellow bill\nto yellow bill and wing enfolding wing. Then Nikitich fitted a flaming\narrow to his stout bow and shot at the cooing doves, but as the shaft\nwas leaving the string his left foot slipped and his right hand shook\nso that the arrow missed the loving birds, went singing through the\nlattice-window and slew the favourite of the Princess Marina who was\nknown as the Son of the Dragon and was known for nothing good.\n\n\"If I go into the palace,\" said Nikitich to himself, \"I shall lose my\nhead. If I do not go, I shall lose my arrow.\" So he called to his page,\nwho always walked or stood three paces behind him, and sent him into\nthe palace to seek for the arrow.\n\n\"Thou witch and sorceress,\" said the bold page to the Princess,\n\"return to us our burning arrow.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Marina, \"let him who sent it come to ask for it.\" And\nwhen this was told to Nikitich he ran quickly into the courtyard of\nthe palace and from thence to the apartment of the Princess Marina\nand took the shaft from the body of the Son of the Dragon. Marina lay\nupon a couch which was covered with a broad mantle of marten skins\nand fondled a fiery dragon with her right hand, while she played with\ntwo poisonous serpents with her left. As soon as Nikitich entered the\nroom she sprang to her nimble feet and stretched out her lily-white\nhands to him:\n\n\"Sweet Nikitich,\" she said looking at him with honey eyes and sugar\nlips, \"stay with me always and I will teach you to calm the fiery\ndragon and charm the poisonous serpent. You shall rest all day and\nno foe, however powerful, will be able to harm you.\"\n\n\"Sweet Marina,\" answered the young man, who was really in a very\ngreat hurry, \"I will not. I have no desire to calm the fiery dragon\nand charm the poisonous serpent but to fight and kill them. Nor would\nrest without labour have any charms for me. Besides I know your guile,\nfor you have brought nine brave Russian heroes to their end and now\nare minded to put an end to me.\" Then he turned abruptly from the\napartment in spite of all the sweet glances of Marina, who was really\nvery lovely, and went home again to his mother with his fiery dart\nin his hand.\n\nAs soon as he was gone, Marina seized her dagger, and from the clay\nfloor of the apartment she hacked out the footprints of Nikitich. Then\nshe painted the pieces of earth with many devices in various colours\nand said her verses over them as she placed them in an oven to bake:\n\n\"Burn ye footsteps of Nikitich, burn in this oven, burn, burn; and\nas his footsteps burn may his heart burn to return to me.\"\n\nNow as the witch spoke these words Nikitich felt a strange longing and\nuneasiness fall upon his spirit. He sat down at night by the fair white\noaken table but he could eat no food; when he went to rest he could not\nsleep but lay tossing about and waiting with impatience for the coming\nof the white dawn. At the first bell for prayers he rose, dressed\nhimself, went first to the cathedral service, and then took his way\nto a certain little lane in Kiev town where lived the Princess Marina.\n\nHe entered the apartment of the Princess slowly and with downcast\neyes; but she turned her white shoulders upon him and did not reply\nto his greeting.\n\n\"Ah, sweet Marina,\" said the enchanted youth, \"I have come to stay\nwith you always, for since yesterday I have had no peace of mind\napart from you.\"\n\n\"I asked you yesterday to stay with me, Nikitich,\" said the\nenchantress, \"and you would not. So now you are in my power. If I\nwish, I can turn you into a raven, a magpie, a pig, or a heroic ox\nwith golden horns, silver hoofs, and a coat as sleek as velvet, or\neven into a loathsome frog. And if I change you into a frog no power\non earth or in the sky or in the sea, or in the underworld can change\nyou again so that your spiteful mother will know you.\"\n\nThen by a slight movement of her lily-white hand she turned the young\nman into a heroic ox with golden horns, silver hoofs, and a coat as\nsleek as velvet. And she drove him out into the open steppe to drink\nswamp water and to eat marsh grass and to be lord over the nine brown\noxen which had once been Russian heroes, strong and mighty. Now as\nhe roamed about the plain not far away from the dwellings of Kiev,\nhe saw a flock of geese which belonged to his aunt; and wickedness\nentered into his heart, so that he trampled the whole gabbling flock\nto death down to the very last gosling. Then the goose-girls went\nto their mistress and with much shaking of dark locks and heaving of\nwhite shoulders they told their tale.\n\nAs soon as they had finished their story the swan-keepers came with a\nsimilar tale, and then the shepherds, and after these the herdsmen. Not\na living creature of all the flocks and herds had the golden-horned\nmonster spared.\n\n\"I know,\" said the aunt of Nikitich, \"whence comes this fierce\nbeast. It is my well-beloved Nikitich whom the vile witch Marina has\nchanged by her sorcery.\" Even as she spoke the horse-keepers came to\ntell how the animal had driven the steeds before him so that all had\nbeen lost far over the open steppe, dispersed and driven away many\nmiles from Kiev city. Then the aunt of Nikitich rose in white anger,\nand by means of a secret charm she knew she changed herself into a\nchattering magpie and flew away to the palace of Marina, where she\nperched herself upon the sill of the lattice-window and began to\nscold with all her might and to say:\n\n\"Wicked Marina, the ugly! Why have you turned my nephew Nikitich into\na golden-horned heroic ox, and set him free to roam across the open\nsteppe? Take off your charm from my nephew or I will turn you into a\nlong-tailed dog to be chased through the lanes of Kiev by the children,\nor into a chattering magpie full of guile and spleen.\"\n\nNow at the game of changes no one could excel Marina, and when she\nheard the threat of the aunt of Nikitich she changed herself into\na grey swallow and flew over the head of the chattering magpie far\naway across the open steppe. After a long flight she came to the\ngolden-horned heroic ox, and alighting upon his head said in his ear:\n\n\"Promise me now, Nikitich, promise me with a great oath that you will\ntake the golden crowns with me, and I will turn you back into your\nown shape again. Swear now, for you have roamed the wild steppe and\nmust needs be weary, and have wandered far by the bubbling marshes\nand must needs be tired.\"\n\n\"Ah, sweet Marina,\" said Nikitich, glancing upward with a piteous look,\n\"only deliver me from the form of this heroic beast and I will take\nthe golden crowns with you. I will marry you, Marina, and will teach\nyou the little lessons which a wise husband imparts to an obedient\nwife for her advantage.\"\n\nThen Marina believed him and turned him into a goodly youth as he had\nbeen when he first entered her apartment in search of his fiery dart;\nand she changed herself into a lovely bride, but she could not change\nthe emerald hue of her eyes.\n\n\"Now I will wed you, Marina,\" said the wise Nikitich. \"Round this\nbush we go, three times round this willow bush, and then you may call\nNikitich your husband if you will.\" So round the bush they went,\nhand in hand, three times round the willow bush, while the eyes of\nthe beautiful bride gleamed greener than ever before.\n\nSo the bride and bridegroom came, side by side, to the palace of\nMarina, where Nikitich called to one of the servants:\n\n\"Ho, there, bring me a cup of green wine, and a sword of damascened\nsteel, sharp and bright.\"\n\nAt these words the witch bride put forth her spells again and turned\nher bridegroom into a little ermine and began to frighten him. Then\nshe turned him into a falcon, but by her witchcraft she was able to\nprevent him from flying anywhere except round and round her head.\n\n\"I cannot fly like the falcon clear,\" said Nikitich, \"I can only\nflap my wings up and down. Give me, I beg of you, a cup of green wine\nto drink.\"\n\nThen as if to delight her own eyes and tease him still further, the\nwitch bride turned him once more into a goodly young man who shouted\nout again:\n\n\"Ho, there, bring me a cup of green wine and a sword of damascened\nsteel, sharp and bright.\"\n\nOnce more Marina raised her lily-white hands and began to perform\nher enchantments. But before she could change her bridegroom again\nthe servant stood at his side with the cup of wine in one hand and\nthe sword in the other. Nikitich set aside the wine and taking the\nsword in his hands cut off the head of Marina with one sharp stroke.\n\nIn the morning, as the young man went to his bath, a great company\nof princes and nobles met him in the passage:\n\n\"Hail, Nikitich,\" they cried courteously. \"How is it with your bride?\"\n\n\"Hail, princes and nobles, heroes and courtiers of Vladimir,\" said\nthe young man with a jolly laugh. \"Last night I was wedded and no\nlonger alone. This morning I am alone and no longer wedded, for I\nhave cut off the head of my troublesome bride, who had brought to\ntheir death many heroes and princes of Holy Russia.\"\n\nThen he went to his bath, and returning to the court of Vladimir\nwas given a seat in the great corner while he told his wonderful\nadventure. \"There is no need,\" said the Prince, \"to cross the boundless\nplain for strange happenings, for to the adventurous the adventure\nmay come in a narrow lane.\"\n\nBut in spite of the words of his Prince, Nikitich now longed to roam\nthe open plain to seek fresh adventures. So he set out on the very\nnext day and wandered on and on until he came to a wide-spreading oak\non which a pied raven, half of whose wings were white, sat croaking,\ncroaking, croaking. So harsh was its voice that Nikitich strung his\nbow, fitted a flaming arrow to the cord and prepared to shoot the\ncroaking bird. But as he did so the raven put its head on one side\nand spoke to him in the speech of Holy Russia.\n\n\"Hail now, little Nikitich, the adventurer. Do not kill me and I will\nmake known to you all kinds of secrets. Do not the little ones of the\nlanes and streets say to one another, 'There is no wisdom in killing\nan old man, and he who shoots a raven makes no broth.' Now that I see\nyour bow unstrung I will tell you something worth knowing in return\nfor your forbearance. By the lofty mountain across the steppe there\nare three wonders, even three marvellous damsels. The first is a lily\nfor whiteness, the second is a rose for redness, and the third is a\nviolet for darkness. More beautiful are they than the spring flowers\non the steppe. How is this for an adventure on a fine morning for\nNikitich the slayer of dragon brides?\"\n\nNow Nikitich had succeeded so well in his first adventure that he\nwas burning to try a second. So he lowered his bow and reflected a\nlittle before he spoke. Then he said:\n\n\"What you have quoted of the children's wisdom must be true and I\nwill try the adventure. It is better to go to the lofty mountain and\nsee with my own eyes the lily, the rose, and the violet, those three\nmarvels of beauty, than that I should prove my valour by shooting a\nraven.\" Then the pied bird flew away, croaking, croaking, croaking.\n\nNikitich turned his horse and rode, quickly, very quickly, very, very\nquickly, and with heroic speed, towards the lofty mountain far away\nacross the open steppe, and at the foot of this mountain he found a\npavilion of fair white linen embroidered with gold. \"This is a fitting\ndwelling for three marvellous damsels,\" said the young man to himself,\n\"the first a lily for whiteness, the second a rose for redness, and\nthe third a violet for darkness. But it seems to me that either they\nare not at home or they have locked up their beauty very securely;\"\nfor the entrance to the pavilion was secured by a stout bar on which\nwas a lock of damascened steel. The young man alighted, spread fine\nwheat for his horse near the entrance of the pavilion, planted his\nspear in the bosom of moist Mother Earth, and went forward to look\nmore closely at the lock, upon which he found this inscription:\n\n\n    \"Whoso enters this pavilion shall not come thence alive.\"\n\n\nThis was, of course, a direct invitation to an adventurous youth,\nand with one blow of his fist Nikitich struck the lock from its place\nand it fell to the earth at his feet. Then he removed the beam and\npushed his way into the pavilion, where he saw tables set with food\nof the richest and wine of the greenest. He looked round warily,\nhis hand upon his sword, and even searched beneath the tables, but\nfound neither hero nor damsels in all the place. So he sat down at\none table and ate well and drank too well, for as soon as he was\nsatisfied he began to throw food and wine about the floor. When he\nwas weary of this foolish exercise, he lay down to sleep.\n\nFor a long time he slept, dreaming of lilies, roses, and violets, and\nknew not that even as he slumbered the owner of that fair pavilion was\nspeeding across the open steppe. This was the hero Alyosha of the court\nof Prince Vladimir, who arrived breathless to find a steed feeding\nquietly before his pavilion, and a sleeper within who had eaten well\nand drunk too well and then had thrown food and wine about the floor.\n\nNow at this sight Alyosha grew very angry, and his turbulent heart\nboiled within him. His pointed spear was in his hand, and in a moment\nhis anger suggested to him that he could easily punish Nikitich\nfor his fault. But he put aside the idea with disgust, for he was a\nhero and a gentleman. \"I shall win no honour,\" he said to himself,\n\"if I kill a sleeping man who is no better than a dead one.\" Then he\nreflected for a few moments, smiled gently, went out of the pavilion\nand mounted not his own horse but the good steed of Nikitich.\n\nHolding his spear reversed, he rode into the pavilion and struck\nthe sleeper on the breast with the butt end of it. Nikitich sat up\nsuddenly, sprang to his nimble feet, from which he had cast his shoes\nbefore falling asleep, and grasping his mace in his right hand prepared\nto defend himself against all comers. Then a stern fight began within\nthe pavilion to the sound of tumbling tables, breaking crockery and\ncrashing glass. All day they fought without ceasing even to snatch up\na bite of food; all night the fight went on with never a draught of\nwine to slake their thirst. For two more days and two more nights the\ncombat continued, and then there came a clap of thunder loud enough\nto wake Svyatogor from his sleep among the Holy Mountains.\n\nNow Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck heard that sound and he said to\nhimself, \"Somewhere in the white world Russian heroes are fighting\none another. That is not well, for their strength must be kept for\nbattle with accursed Tatars.\"\n\nSo he saddled his good steed Cloudfall, and those who watched his\npreparations for his ride saw him mount, but they did not see him as he\nrode, so quickly sped the shaggy bay steed across the open steppe. In\na short space of time he came to the lofty mountain, and entering\nthe pavilion saw the two young men fighting amidst the remnants of a\nfeast. Then he seized Nikitich by his right hand and Alyosha by his\nleft and shouted in a heroic voice, \"Why fight against each other,\nye heroes of Holy Russia?\"\n\nAlyosha was the first to speak. \"Ah,\" he said, \"thou Old Coss\u00e1ck,\nIlya of Murom, how could I refrain from punishing Nikitich? For I\nprepared a banquet within my own pavilion and this fellow unbarred\nthe door, sat down by himself to eat well and drink too well, and\nthen scattered the rich food and green wine about the floor!\" As he\nspoke, the voice of Alyosha rose higher and higher with indignation\nuntil the last words were like the scream of a peacock in the garden\nof the Princess Apraxia.\n\n\"You did well, Alyosha,\" said Ilya with a fatherly smile about his\nlips, \"for a man is no man who is not able to defend his own. And as\nfor you, Nikitich, how does it stand with your case?\"\n\n\"I could do nothing in honour but fight,\" was the reply. \"For\nthe inscription on the lock denied life to those who entered this\npavilion. It was but an invitation to an adventurer from the court\nof Vladimir.\"\n\n\"You did well, Nikitich,\" said Ilya with a deep laugh in his eyes,\n\"to defend yourself against such odds, for a hero is no hero who is\nnot able to defend his own.\" Then he paused and looked at both of\nthe combatants, who presented a sorry spectacle. After that he looked\nround about the wrecked pavilion which had been intended as a place\nof entertainment for heroes and bold warrior maids.\n\n\"It will be well, Nikitich,\" he said quietly, \"if you stay to be\ninvited to the next feast that is laid in this pavilion, and well for\nyou, Alyosha, if you do not tempt brave men by forbidding them. Come\nnow, calm your heroic turbulent hearts and swear brotherhood with\nexchange of crosses.\" Then the two heroes swore eternal friendship\nwith the exchange of crosses, and they all set out for the court\nof Vladimir, who when he saw them and heard their story laughed in\nhis beard.\n\n\"It is not wise, Nikitich,\" he said, \"to expect to win a bride in\neach day's adventure.\"\n\nThen they went in to supper, and Ilya of Murom sat in the great corner\nthat night and it was he who told the tale.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHOW THE COURT OF VLADIMIR RECEIVED A VISITOR FROM INDIA THE GLORIOUS\n\n\nFrom far beyond the deep blue sea, from India the Glorious, came\nLord Diuk the son of Stephen. Like a white hawk his ship skimmed\nlightly across the heaving waters, and like a white ermine coursing he\nrode across the boundless open plain. As he rode jauntily onward his\nbow-case and his quiver beat against his hips, and like a flaming arrow\nfrom that same bow was the speed of his good steed, Rough-Coat. His\nhelmet and his armour were of gleaming silver, his shirt of mail,\nclose fitting, was of ruddy gold woven in chains as fine as silk from\nSamarcand. When he came to a river he asked for no bridge or ford,\nfor Rough-Coat leapt from shore to shore at a single bound.\n\nNow as Lord Diuk rode onward he hunted, and the foxes, martens,\neagles, geese, white swans and downy ducks knew and told each other\nby their cries that a practised hunter was abroad. When an arrow sped\nfrom his bow a shaft of light seemed to rend the heavens, and where\nthe flaming darts fell to earth a radiance streamed as from the pale\ncold moon shining across the white world of the snowy steppe. He shot\nthree times a hundred arrows and three times one, and though he found\nthe three hundred shafts he did not find the three; and this appeared\nto him to be a very great wonder.\n\n\"The three arrows which I have lost,\" he said to himself, \"are of\npriceless value. They were made of the graceful reeds and were covered\nwith gold beaten finer than the parchment of the holy monks, and set\nwith precious stones so that in their flight they shone like the rays\nof the sun at early dawn. The feathers were those of the blue-grey\neagle, which is swifter in its flight than all the birds of the air,\nand flies across the deep blue sea to visit its eyrie on the tall\nburning white stone which flashes for a thousand miles. Its feathers\nare hard to come by, being more precious than satin or cut velvet,\nor silk from Samarcand.\"\n\nThinking deeply and somewhat depressed at his heavy loss, Diuk once\nmore mounted Rough-Coat and gave him the rein for home. As he sped\nonward he overtook a company of one and thirty wandering pilgrims,\nand reining in his horse demanded:\n\n\"Ho, there, you greybeards, are you thieves or robbers or travellers,\nmidnight prowlers or plunderers of churches?\"\n\nThen the psalm-singers replied:\n\n\"Young Diuk, we are neither thieves, nor robbers, prowlers nor\nplunderers of churches, but pilgrims on the long journey from Kiev\ntown to India the Glorious.\"\n\n\"Is the journey long?\" asked Diuk in a more respectful tone.\n\n\"We have indeed come a long way from Kiev town,\" was the quiet\nanswer. \"It is a journey of a year on foot and then three months on\nthe bosom of the deep blue sea.\"\n\nWith a low reverence to the holy pilgrims, Diuk rode to his home,\nwhich he reached in a short space of time; and on the next day after\nhaving been to vespers he sought out his lady mother.\n\n\"Mother mine,\" he said, \"must I stay always at home engaged in\nchildish pursuits while my manhood calls me, calls me ever and ever\nmore loudly across the boundless plain? I ought to ride with head\naloft and shoulders squared upon my dapple bay steed Rough-Coat, and\nprove my manhood by my fearless deeds. I have seen some fair cities,\nbut never have I seen Kiev the Great nor beheld with my own eyes the\nbeauty of the Princess Apraxia whom all men praise. Give me leave,\nlady mother, leave and your good blessing, and let me go to Kiev town\nat once and now.\"\n\nThen the mother's heart grew tender, and in her eagerness to keep\nhim by her side she magnified the dangers of the way and thus, all\nunknowing, added to his eagerness to go.\n\n\"Alas, my dear son,\" she said, \"you have not yet ridden far across the\nboundless plain nor heard the roar of the wild beast and the fierce cry\nof the accursed Tatar. Never will you return in safety from the dangers\nof the open steppe. As for Kiev, the city of Vladimir, the people of\nthat place are not worthy to keep company with such as you. They will\nlook upon you as a purse to be picked, for they are traders, sons of\nmerchants, traffickers in goods which your forefathers would win with\nsword and mace and lance. I will not give you leave and blessing to\ngo to the Court of Vladimir, that ruler of shop-keepers.\"\n\nDiuk's eyes had gleamed as his mother spoke of the way in which his\nancestors had won their wealth; and seeing this she tried another\ncourse.\n\n\"Besides,\" she went on quickly, \"there are three great barriers on the\nway to Kiev city. The first is the barrier of the moving mountains,\nwhich clash together and catch the unwary traveller in their strong\ngrip. The second is the barrier of the ravenous birds, which will\ntear thee and thy good steed to a thousand pieces. The third barrier\nis the Mountain Dragon with twelve tails, each with a sting in it. He\nwill devour you if indeed you have been fortunate enough to pass the\nclashing mountains and the ravenous birds.\"\n\nEach fresh terror which she described added to the young man's\neagerness to set out upon the journey to Kiev town; and having done\nreverence to his weeping mother he went to the stable and combed the\ncoat of his faithful steed with a fine comb of fishes' teeth, as well\nas the mane and tail, which brushed the bosom of moist Mother Earth as\nhe passed on his flight and swept away all traces of his hoofs. Then\nhe saddled his good horse and plaited bright jewels in his mane,\nstanding off to admire his handiwork, speaking meanwhile to the animal\nin human speech; and in human speech the horse replied to him saying:\n\n\"Tear not my sides with spurs, dear master; lash me not with your\nwhip of silk; tighten not the bridle upon my faithful head; but when\nI speed cling to my mane and fear not when I leap from mountain-top\nto mountain-top, when I clear a great lake at a bound and a river at\nan easy jump. So shall I be your friend and helper as was Cloudfall\nto Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\"\n\nThen Diuk prepared himself for the heroic journey and went to say\nfarewell to his lady mother, who had wept till her eyes were bright\nagain, and she was ready to give both leave and blessing to her bold\nand fearless son. She gave him also a warning. \"My dear son,\" she said,\n\"when you come to Kiev town and to the Court of Prince Vladimir and\nhe makes a banquet in your honour, boast not of your wealth, or of\nme your mother.\" Then she kissed him upon his honey mouth and he rode\naway with happy heart. They saw him as he mounted Rough-Coat but they\ndid not see him as he rode, so swift was his flight--it was only a\nwreath of smoke, a pillar of dust far off upon the boundless plain,\nand he was gone.\n\nNow in due time he came to the first barrier of the moving mountains,\nwhich, of course, could not always be meeting, but must also part to\nmeet once more; and watching for the time when they parted, Rough-Coat\ndarted between them so quickly that they only caught a long hair\nfrom his flowing tail. Then they came to the second barrier of the\nravenous birds, which swooped down upon them. But Rough-Coat dipped\nhis head and flung up his hind feet so that they pecked only at his\nhoofs and found no sweetness in that meal; and with two heroic leaps\nthe brave steed was far beyond the reach of the pecking birds. Last\nof all they came so suddenly upon the barrier of the dragon that\nbefore he could rouse himself and uncoil his stinging tails one by\none Rough-Coat was far beyond the reach of their malice.\n\nSo the three terrible barriers were safely passed without the loss of\na single arrow, and Diuk rode onward singing gaily of the great deeds\nof Svyatogor and Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck. On he went across the\nboundless open plain until he came to a ring-barked oak on which sat a\nraven as black as night, croaking, croaking, croaking. Diuk looked up\nwith impatience, for in his heart he feared an omen more than clashing\nmountains, pecking birds, or dragons with twelve stinging tails.\n\n\"Thou bird of evil,\" he cried, \"I will scatter thy sable feathers\nupon the open plain. I will spill thy blood upon the ring-barked oak\nand give thee over to croaking Death.\"\n\nBut the raven answered him in the speech of Holy Russia, \"Shed not my\nblood, young Lord Diuk. Ride on across the open steppe and you will\nfind an adversary worthy of your stout bow and your shining arrows.\"\n\nThis speech filled the heart of the young hero with gladness and with\nthe hope of meeting an adventure worthy of his ancestry. He rode on\nagain until he came upon the hoof-prints of a horse deeply marked\non the broad lap of moist Mother Earth, so deeply that it was clear\nto all eyes that a hero of mighty stature had recently passed that\nway. A few more leaps of Rough-Coat, and Diuk came to a pavilion of\nfair white linen embroidered with gold, beside which strayed a shaggy\ncharger eating fine white Turkish wheat, which was heaped freely upon\nthe ground for his solace and entertainment.\n\nWhen Diuk saw this his heart failed him and he said to himself, \"My\ncourage leaves me and I dare not enter that pavilion, for the hero\nwho sits therein will assuredly cut off my head. But I will place\nRough-Coat by the side of this charger and he also shall stoop to\nthe wheat. If the two horses eat together in peace, I will take it\nas a sign that the hero will do me no harm. But if the horses begin\nto quarrel I shall know that it is time for me to return to my lady\nmother.\" For a strange dread and fear was upon the young man who had\nset out so boldly but who now felt that he was within the circle of\na spell. And well he might, as we shall see.\n\nThe two chargers ate in peace, and Diuk, taking heart again, entered\nthe pavilion, bowing as he passed the threshold to North, South, East,\nand West, and especially to--the owner who slept in one corner with a\nterrible snore. Diuk came forward, and looking closer knew at once that\nthe sleeper was none other than Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck, wrapt in\none of the deep sleeps for which he was as famous as for heroic deeds.\n\n\"Rouse ye, Ilya of Murom,\" cried Diuk; \"it is time to go to royal\nKiev town so as to be present at matins on Easter morn.\" But Ilya\nslept on and snored and stirred not. Again Diuk shouted, and again\nwithout result; but at his third shout the great warrior unclosed his\neyes in a manner which seemed to suggest that he had been sleeping\na hound's sleep and said:\n\n\"Ho, stranger, tell me your name and horde.\" Then Diuk told him all\nthe truth.\n\n\"Why, then,\" asked Ilya, \"have you roused me from my heroic sleep. Do\nyou wish to go with me out upon the open plain and see which of us\nshall carry home the head of the other?\"\n\n\"Nay,\" said Diuk in great haste. \"Why should I fight with Ilya upon\nthe open plain? Death will not come to you in battle. As there is\none sun in the daylight sky and one moon in the dark blue heavens,\nso there is one Ilya of Murom in Holy Russia.\"\n\nThis speech was courteous enough and fitting for the mouth of a young\nhero, and it pleased Ilya mightily. He sprang at once to his nimble\nfeet, caught Diuk by his white hands, kissed him upon his sugar lips,\nand swore with him eternal friendship, making the solemn exchange\nof the cross. And Diuk thought no more of home or of his lady mother\nand her tears of loneliness.\n\nThen the young hero and the old sat down in the fair pavilion and\nate and drank well but not too well; and when that memorable feast\nwas ended, Ilya said to Diuk:\n\n\"Go now alone upon your way to Kiev town, and if any one there shall\nmock at you send me word of it. But do not take your part when the\nboasting time shall come.\"\n\nWith a heart full of hope and youthful expectation, Diuk rode on\nalone to Kiev town; and when he came there Rough-Coat leapt over the\nwalls and flew like a whirlwind to the palace of white stone. In the\ncourtyard Diuk leapt lightly to the ground, planted the butt end of\nhis spear in the soil, and flung his bridle over the point. Then he\nlooked up and saw the Princess Apraxia looking out of the window and\nsaid out loudly, \"The washerwoman, I suppose.\" But he also bowed to\nher and asked, \"Where is Prince Vladimir, the Fair Sun of Kiev?\"\n\nThereupon the Princess Apraxia raised her head with a look of scorn\nand passed into the shadow of her apartment; and it was the serving\nmen in the courtyard who answered the young man's question. \"Royal\nVladimir,\" they said, \"is on his way to the Easter Mass.\" So Diuk\nmounted Rough-Coat once again and rode off to the Cathedral. At\nthe great door he let his horse go free and entered the hall of the\nambassadors, but he did not bow to North, South, East, and West and\nespecially to any one, but gazed about and scanned the faces of all\nthe congregation. When the service was over the courteous prince sent\na messenger to invite the strange youth to the palace, and to this\nman Diuk replied lightly and by no means courteously:\n\n\"You have lately been favoured in these parts with spring weather and\nmy embroidered garments are befouled with the mire of the plain.\" This\nhe said to show his magnificence, for he was splendidly clad, as\nbefitted his ancestry, and he knew it. So he went to the banquet-hall,\nhis steed following after him; and when he came within the place\nhe bowed to Prince Vladimir until his golden curls swept the red\nbrick floor. Then he stood upright and looked about him, and having\nlooked he shook his head doubtfully and slightingly, for to his eyes\naccustomed to the shining splendour of India the Glorious the palace\nwas mean beyond compare.\n\nBut he sat down with another shake of his head, wondering upon what\nmeal of frozen oats his fine steed was being regaled and eyeing\nwith scorn the tables of white oak with their cloths patterned with\ndrawn-work of white thread, the handiwork of the Princess Apraxia. He\nate and drank well, however, and when he showed more contentment,\nVladimir asked him courteously if it were a long journey from India\nthe Glorious to Kiev town.\n\n\"I set out at vespers on Holy Saturday,\" said Diuk lightly, \"and as\nyou know, I have been at early Mass in Kiev town this Easter day.\"\n\n\"And can you buy such steeds as yours cheaply in India the\nGlorious?\" asked Prince Vladimir still courteously.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Diuk lightly still, \"we have them at a rouble, or two\nroubles, or six roubles, or even seven, but Rough-Coat is priceless\nand not to be purchased by the wealthiest trader.\" Then he thrust\nhis hands into his belt and stared about the room, while a great hush\nfell upon the company.\n\nBut one of the heroes of Holy Russia rose slowly to his feet and said\nheavily: \"My lord, Prince Vladimir, I have travelled far from Kiev town\nand have been even to India the Glorious. And I know without hearsay\nthat by the straight way for heroic travellers it is a journey of\nthree months, but by the round way for merchants it is a six months'\npassage and more, indeed, unless on the way the traveller springs\nfrom horse to horse, making no delay.\"\n\nTo this speech courteous Prince Vladimir said nothing in reply. The\nguests looked at each other at a loss for the next event, and then\nfeeling hungry and thirsty again fell upon the banquet with heroic\nstrength. But Diuk sat at the board sad and silent until Vladimir\nspoke to him.\n\n\"What ails your sad heart, bold youth?\" he asked gently. \"Is the\nfeast not to your taste? Or do you fear the boasting time which is\nsurely coming, when you shall have nothing of which you may brag?\"\n\n\"Prince Vladimir,\" said Diuk, \"I am wealthier far than you are. For\nmy father left me great riches, and I am used to fine white bread\nmade from flour of Turkish wheat.\"\n\nThen courteous Prince Vladimir ordered his servants to bring wine\nof the greenest and cakes of wheaten flour. Diuk drank one half of\nthe wine and poured out the rest upon the table as if its value were\nof no account, and some of the dogs licked the drops and then lay\ndown to sleep. He took off the top crust of the fine wheaten cakes,\nate the middle, and flung the rest to the other dogs. And even yet\ncourteous Prince Vladimir blamed him not at all.\n\nBut another Russian hero sprang to his nimble feet and cried, \"What\nboorish fellow is this? He is not really Lord Diuk from India the\nGlorious, and for the first time to-day this fellow has drunk green\nwine and eaten fine wheaten cakes. He is a cow-herd, a fugitive serf\nfrom the castle of some nobleman, who has done his master to death,\ndressed himself in his embroidered garments, and stolen his goodly\nsteed. He is not of noble birth, for as he walked I noticed that he\nlooked not straight before him but at the shoes upon his feet. He\nhas come here in order that you, Prince Vladimir, may feast him\nhonourably and then give him a rich gift in accordance with your\ncourteous custom.\"\n\n\"I desire no treasure which can be given to me here,\" cried Diuk,\n\"for I have wealth untold at home, and rich food and green wine in\nabundance. I had heard tales of wonder concerning Kiev city and came\nhere to test the truth of what I had heard. But it is not with you\nas it is with us in India the Glorious.\"\n\nAnd even yet Prince Vladimir parted not from his courteous bearing\nbut said gently:\n\n\"Why did you stare about the church at Mass this Easter morning,\ninstead of reverently bowing your head in the company?\"\n\n\"I stared about, Prince Vladimir,\" said the young man, \"because I had\nheard tales of Kiev churches and of the richness of their beauty. But\nin this matter also, it is not with you as it is with us in India\nthe Glorious. Your churches are of wooden beams with domes of timber,\nbut ours are of stone with roofs of beaten gold. Our meanest houses\nare finer than your palaces of white stone. Your streets are foul\nwith mire, but ours are cleanly swept and strewn with dry yellow sand.\n\n\"The steps of your royal palace,\" went on Diuk, \"are of black stone\nwith railings of turned wood fastened together with pegs of wood,\nand these rough pegs, as I know to my annoyance, catch the flowing\nrobes of those who mount the steps. But the steps of my palace in\nIndia the Glorious are of smoothest ivory, and are spread with rugs\nof silk from Samarcand, while the railings are of polished ruddy gold\non which no speck of dust is allowed to settle.\n\n\"The floor of this banquet-hall is of rough, uneven pine planks,\nand even these rough boards are a luxury for the high table and the\ngreat corner, while the rest of the hall is paved with coarse red\nbrick. Your walls and ceiling are unpainted, your tables are of oak,\nand the cloths laid upon the most exalted are patterned with drawn\nthreads. But the floors of our hall are of smooth ash timber in every\npart, laid with great evenness, our walls and ceiling are painted in\nthe richest colours, while our tables are of gold when they are not\nof ivory. Over my lady mother's doorway are seventy pictures of holy\nsaints shining in glorious colours, while you have only ten. From\nour churches to the palace are laid pavements of hard smooth wood,\nspread with scarlet cloth, but your pathways are so miry that they\nsoil the embroidered garments of a Prince.\"\n\nEven yet Prince Vladimir remained courteous, and all he said in\nreply was:\n\n\"Why did you throw away some of my green wine and a portion of my\nwheaten cakes?\"\n\n\"For a good reason,\" returned the young lord; \"I could not eat your\ncakes, for the upper crust has a flavour of pine wood, while the\nlower tastes of clay, so that I knew at once that your ovens are\nbuilt of brick and your oven brooms are made of pine twigs. But in\nour palace in India the Glorious the ovens of my lady mother, which\nare under her own care, are made of hard glazed tiles, while her\noven brooms are of silk dipped in honey dew. If a man eats one of my\nmother's cakes he leaves no crumb behind, and his whole desire is to\neat more. Your wines taste of damp and their flavour is foul. But my\nmother's wine-cellars and their contents are the wonder of India the\nGlorious. She has wines which saw the dawn of history, and these are\nkept in casks of silver with hoops of gold, which are hung on chains\nof brass in bricked-out caves of forty fathoms' depth; and from these\ngreat caves run open pipes underground to let in the fresh sweet air\nfrom the plain; and when the strong winds play about the open ends of\nthese pipes the silver casks swing to and fro and make a murmur like\nthat of snowy birds playing upon the bosom of a peaceful lake. So\nwe have wine which cannot be described but must be tasted, and if a\nman drinks one cup thereof he leaves no drop behind, for there are\nno dregs in this liquor, and his whole desire is to drink more.\n\n\"As for the embroidered garments of my lady mother, the store in her\npresses and cupboards cannot be valued. At all times the sewing women\nare busy, stitching, stitching, stitching, and when one group grows\nweary, another takes up the work. My lady mother's under-robe is set\nwith precious stones, while the bodice is of cloth of gold; her cap\nis covered with fair seed pearls with jewels of marvellous lustre and\npriceless value set in front, and as for myself I wear a dress one day,\nbut woe unto my body-servant if I see it again. Your horses are fed on\nfrozen oats, but ours are regaled on fine Turkish wheat. Beneath our\npalace are twelve deep cellars filled with ruddy gold, white silver,\nand fine seed pearls, and the contents of one cellar alone would be\nsufficient to buy up the whole of Kiev town and Chernigof as well.\"\n\nAt last Vladimir was a little moved. \"I wish that Churilo the Exquisite\nwere here, for he would know how to reply to your boasting.\" Even as\nhe spoke the white oaken doors of the banquet-hall were flung open,\nand Churilo the Exquisite entered with a graceful bow to North,\nSouth, East, and West, and especially to Prince Vladimir, but not\nat all to Diuk from India the Glorious. But that young man was not\nthereby abashed.\n\n\"I have heard,\" he said, \"even in far-away India, the fame of\nChurilo's beauty, and truly Rumour was no lying wench, for his face\nis like the rosebud for redness and his neck like the driven snow for\nwhiteness. But Rumour lied when she praised his courtesy; for he has\nnot learnt how to salute his betters.\"\n\nThen the face of Churilo grew redder than the full-blown rose, and\nhe cried in anger: \"Braggart and boaster, son of a slave. Let us\nlay a wager of roubles, a wager of thirty thousand. For the space of\nthree years you and I shall live in Kiev, and upon every single day of\nthe year each shall wear fresh clothes of the richest, and upon every\nsingle day ride a horse of a different hue. And the wager shall pass to\nhim whom all men acclaim as the most glorious. This can I do to uphold\nthe honour of the court of Prince Vladimir, the Fair Sun of Kiev.\"\n\n\"It is easy for you to wager such a sum and to propose such a test,\"\nsaid Diuk somewhat wearily, \"for you live at home where your clothes\npresses and your stables are full; but I am far from home and have\nonly one travelling suit which is foul from the mire of the dirty\nways of Kiev town. But I accept your wager.\"\n\nThen the young lord sat down at the oaken table and called for a\nparchment scroll on which he wrote a letter and a list, a letter and\na list for his lady mother far away in India the Glorious. Having\nrolled the scroll and sealed it he went out into the court where\nRough-Coat stood pawing the ground impatiently, and placed it in\none of the saddle-bags. \"Haste thee home,\" he said in the quivering\near of the faithful steed, \"home to India the Glorious, and when you\nreach the palace of my lady mother neigh loudly so that all may hear.\"\n\nThey saw the good steed while Diuk spoke in his quivering ear, but\nthey did not see him when he had finished speaking--there was only a\nwreath of smoke on the open boundless plain, and he was gone. And when\nthe good steed came to the palace of his master he neighed loudly,\nand the lady mother came out upon the ivory steps holding the railing\nof ruddy gold with her right hand and her own heart with her left,\nfor she saw the empty saddle of Rough-Coat, and thought instantly of\nthe worst. But the horse neighed again with a joyful note, and when\nthe grooms felt in the saddle-bag they found the scroll which they\ngave to their mistress on bended knee.\n\nHolding herself proudly erect, she read the words which Diuk had\nwritten, and the colour came back to her face and the light of love\nto her eyes. \"The foolish boy has boasted as I warned him that he\nmust not do, for there is no need for one to boast whose splendour is\nbeyond doubt or rival. But I must do what I can to redeem his pledged\nword--and it may be that his precious life is endangered.\" Then she\nunbound her golden keys and taking with her a band of sewing maidens,\nshe unlocked the doors of spacious wardrobes, and packed changes of\nlawn and silken raiment sufficient for three years and three days,\nand so as to afford three changes for each day; and though the number\nof garments was so great the weight of the bales were not too heavy\na burden for Rough-Coat, so fine was the texture of lawn and silk,\neach garment having stood the test of being drawn through a finger\nring before it was embroidered with gold or silver or fine seed pearls.\n\nWhen Rough-Coat was duly loaded, the lady mother threw an old and\nmuch-worn garment over all and said:\n\n\"Haste to my precious son, good Rough-Coat, and warn him of your\ncoming with a neigh.\"\n\nBefore long the young Lord Diuk and Churilo the Exquisite began their\nstrange contest, riding about Kiev town in new garments and upon a\nfresh horse every day. Churilo ordered great herds of horses to be\ndriven into Kiev from Chernigof, and took much pains to select one\nof different hue every morning; but Diuk anointed Rough-Coat each\nmorning with dew and so changed the colour of its coat. For three\nyears this peaceful warfare lasted, and then on Easter morning the two\ncombatants went to early Mass and stood in the porch of the cathedral\nside by side, but not too close together.\n\nThe garments of Churilo the Exquisite were slashed with ruddy burning\ngold and with white gleaming silver. In place of buttons he had clasps\nmade in the likeness of handsome youths with loops fashioned in the\nsemblance of lovely maidens. So high were the insteps of his slippers\nof green morocco that swallows swooping to the earth might easily\npass under them, while their tips were as sharp as the shoemaker's\nawl. His cap was of softest down overshadowing his eyes in front and\nhis white neck behind. His over-mantle flung back in youthful vanity\nwas of sables of the richest gloss.\n\nBut his opponent stood by his side in the worn garment which his lady\nmother had placed on the back of Rough-Coat to protect the bales from\nthe weather; only, beneath this beggar's robe shone jewels on his\nfootgear of value greater than that of all Kiev, except for the gems\nupon the statues of the Virgin and the Saints in the great cathedral.\n\nVladimir came and looked at the young men, while Churilo fingered his\nclasps and loops as if to draw attention to their exquisite fashioning;\nbut Diuk looked straight ahead as if he saw right across the open\nsteppe to the palace of his lady mother in India the Glorious.\n\nThen the Prince spoke in tones of quiet judgment:\n\n\"To our mind,\" he said, \"the young Lord Diuk from India the Glorious\nhas forfeited his wager; for such inventions as these clasps and\nloops have never been equalled in the eyes of men.\"\n\n\"The value of the wager,\" cried Diuk, \"is nothing to me, but for my\nrenown I am jealous enough.\" Then he threw his worn garment aside\nand stood forth in apparel so wondrous that all the watchers fell to\nthe earth, stunned with the sight of its shining beauty. At the fore\npeak of his cap shone the sun like ruddy gold; at the back was the\nmoon with shining silver rays; between the two points shone a light\nas from pearls heaped up in the darkness.\n\nThen he fingered the clasps in front of his embroidered doublet which\nwere fashioned in the shape of singing birds, and at the touch of\nhis caressing fingers the birds began to sing. He pulled the loops\nat the edges of his coat which were fashioned in the shape of lions\nand dragons, and at the touch of his caressing fingers they began to\ncrawl and leap and hiss and roar. When he had finished the whole of\nthe company, including Churilo the Exquisite, lay prone upon the floor.\n\nVladimir was the first to rise, and he gasped out with his hand to\nhis forehead: \"The wager and the renown are yours, goodly youth. Now\ncover up your birds and beasts with a garment to which my people are\nmore accustomed.\" And Diuk did so; whereupon the people recovered\nfrom their stupefied astonishment and began to praise Diuk for having\noutdone Churilo the Exquisite in the ingenuity and richness of his\napparel. And the victor spent the thirty thousand roubles on green\nwine for the applauding crowds, which made them applaud him still\nmore loudly.\n\nNow Churilo the Exquisite was a young man of determination, and even\nthis defeat did not quench his spirit or his ingenuity. As soon as\nhe had recovered himself he approached Diuk once again and said with\ngreat respect:\n\n\"My Lord Diuk, let us make another wager of another kind. Let us\nprove whose horse can leap the broad stream of Mother Dnieper,\nwhich measures two miles across, and let our heads be the stake;\nthe winner to cut off the head of the loser.\"\n\n\"I have only my travelling nag with me,\" said Diuk, \"but I accept\nthe challenge.\" Then he went to Rough-Coat in the stable and told\nthe good horse in what danger he stood of losing his head.\n\n\"That is well,\" said Rough-Coat, in the speech of Holy Russia, \"for\nnot only will I leap over Mother Dnieper, but I will carry you an\neven distance upon the farther shore. I belong to a heroic family,\nand my eldest brother is Cloudfall, the shaggy bay steed ridden by\nIlya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck, while my second brother bears Nikitich\nupon his adventures, but my youngest brother is the steed of Churilo\nthe Exquisite.\"\n\nWithout loss of time Diuk saddled Rough-Coat and rode far out across\nthe open plain with Churilo by his side, riding step by step but not\ntoo near. Behind them flocked a great crowd of mighty heroes of Holy\nRussia, as well as of the townsfolk of Kiev, who had come to watch the\nmanly contest, which was much more to their taste than an exhibition of\nclothing and decoration, however ingenious and splendid they might be.\n\nAt last they came to the shore of broad Mother Dnieper, and both the\ncombatants stood for a moment with their hands to their foreheads\ngazing out across the deep water to discover a possible landing-place\non the farther bank. Then said Churilo the Exquisite:\n\n\"Do thou leap first, Lord Diuk.\"\n\n\"Nay,\" answered the other, \"do thou leap first, and when we leap\ntogether in India, then will I take the lead.\"\n\nSo Churilo put his horse to the stream. The younger brother of\nRough-Coat left the shore with a courageous leap, but came down with a\ngreat splash in mid-stream. Then Diuk put his horse to the stream. The\nyounger brother of Cloudfall left the shore with a courageous leap,\ncleared the river and an even space on the farther shore, and then\nturning quickly leapt back again; and as Rough-Coat soared across\nthe broad bosom of Mother Dnieper, Diuk stooped and caught Churilo\nby his yellow curls.\n\nOn the banks of the stream the victor prepared to cut off the head\nof the Exquisite; but all the ladies, young and not quite so young,\nlovely and not quite so lovely, who had come out from Kiev, implored\nhim to spare the life of the young man. So Diuk merely gave him a\nmighty kick and said:\n\n\"Go, Exquisite, to the women to whom you owe your life, and stay with\nthem; for the men of Holy Russia, to say naught of India the Glorious,\nhave no need of such as you.\"\n\nChurilo the Exquisite had not yet parted with the whole of his\ningenuity, and he turned to Prince Vladimir:\n\n\"My Lord,\" he said, \"if this young man is a truth-teller, let us\nsend talesmen who can compute and count to India the Glorious, to\nmake lists of all his boasted possessions in treasure and goods and\nherds and flocks.\"\n\n\"Whom shall we send?\" asked Prince Vladimir.\n\n\"Let Alyosha go,\" answered Churilo.\n\n\"Nay,\" said Diuk quickly, \"Alyosha shall not go; for he hath greedy\neyes and pilfering fingers, and he will never, I assure you, come back\nagain to Kiev town.\" Then he sat down at the table of the banquet hall,\nwhere the whole company was now gathered, and wrote a message upon\na parchment and fastened it to one of his flaming arrows. To this\nhe whispered a word of direction, and then, fitting it to his bow,\nhe shot it forth from the open window across the boundless plain. The\nwinged messenger found Ilya of Murom near the door of his pavilion\nwhere he was resting with Nikitich, and as soon as he had read the\nscroll the Old Coss\u00e1ck said to his wise companion:\n\n\"Go thou to Diuk in Kiev town and tell him that, if Nikitich is not\nan army in himself, then Ilya will come who is a host.\"\n\nAs soon as he saw Nikitich, Diuk's eyes shone with welcoming\npleasure. \"Ah, Nikitich,\" he said, \"you shall go as talesman with two\nothers to India the Glorious, to make lists of all my possessions in\ntreasure and goods and herds and flocks.\n\n\"Take parchment sufficient for three years and three days,\" the young\nman went on, \"and I promise you in prophecy that you will do homage\nto my servant-maids, mistaking each of them in turn for my lady\nmother.\" Then he laughed gently as one who wins a fight by putting\naside with naked arm the ponderous mace of his adversary.\n\nThe three talesmen set out at once, followed by three waggons heaped\nwith parchment; and after many wanderings and not a few adventures\nNikitich came to India the Glorious, on the verge of which they climbed\na lofty mountain, from whence they beheld the land lying before them.\n\n\"Why, the country burns!\" cried Nikitich in fearful amazement. But\nwhen they drew nearer they saw that it was only the glow of the golden\nroofs and the temple domes, blended with the colour of the yellow\npathways spread with ruddy scarlet cloth. In the midst they saw the\nwhite stone palace of Diuk, which had three-and-thirty towers, whose\nrounded roofs were covered with green copper which is more precious\nthan fine gold. Round about the gleaming palace spread a lovely garden,\ndelicious in the coolness of its greenery, planted with all kinds\nof fruit trees, and surrounded by a high railing of gold pillars,\nset with knots of green copper and broken here and there with gates\nof brass. About the pathways of this pleasure-ground and in the\nverandahs of the palace walked the loveliest of maidens, attended by\nresplendent gallants, who played upon their musical instruments and\nsang gay songs of love and valour.\n\nThe talesmen were so much struck with wonder and amazement that it\nwas a long time before they could summon up their courage to enter the\npalace garden, at whose gates no guards were set. At last they did so,\nand came to the first of the three-and-thirty towers, where they found\nan aged woman who looked as if she was the mother of a goodly son. Her\ndress was of silver thread mixed with a little silk, and her bearing\nhad so much dignity that the visitors from Kiev found themselves\nbowing down before her almost without knowing what they were doing.\n\n\"Hail to thee!\" said Nikitich, \"thou honourable mother of the young\nLord Diuk.\"\n\n\"I am not my lord's mother,\" said the ancient woman, \"I am the keeper\nof his cows.\"\n\nThen the talesmen were so much filled with vexation and shame that they\nleft the palace garden and went out into the open plain, where they\npitched a tent and went to bed without saying a word to each other.\n\nOn the next morning they came again and drew near to the second of\nthe three-and-thirty towers, where they found an aged woman of comely\nface clad in cloth of silver and gold.\n\n\"Hail to thee!\" said Nikitich brightly, \"thou honourable mother of\nthe young Lord Diuk.\"\n\n\"I am not my lord's mother,\" said the aged woman, \"I am his\nwasherwoman.\"\n\nSwallowing their confusion the three talesmen went on, wondering no\nlonger that Diuk had mistaken the Princess Apraxia for the washerwoman\nof Prince Vladimir; and they fared in the same manner before the\ncook, the women of the bedchamber, the baker of cakes, and the nurse,\nuntil the last took pity upon their despair and told them that the\nlady mother of their lord had gone to High Mass, and that they would\nbe able to distinguish her when she left the church by three certain\nsigns. Before her would come a great army of men armed with shovels,\nand then another army with brooms to make all clean on the pathway,\nand then a third army laying cloth of brilliant scarlet upon the\ntawny sand. Last of all would come the mother of young Lord Diuk,\nwith a great company of lovely maidens round about her. \"And when you\ngo into the town,\" the nurse concluded, \"you must not salute all the\nancient ladies in fine raiment like mine, for there are so many of us\nthus arrayed that we pay little heed to it. And if you do reverence\nto all of us your back will remain bent like the bow of Ilya of Murom.\"\n\nThe talesmen went on their wondering way and in due time met the\nmother of the young Lord Diuk, preceded and attended as the nurse\nhad told, and dressed in garments of rich but quiet beauty. Before\nher the three men bowed, and in pleasant tones she asked why they\nhad come to the city.\n\n\"Your son sent us as talesmen,\" was the answer, \"to make lists of\nall his possessions in treasure and goods and herds and flocks.\"\n\n\"That is beyond your powers,\" said the lady; \"but come first of all\nto partake of my hospitality, and then I will show you whatever you\nchoose to see.\"\n\nSo they went to the feast of rich food and richer wine, and they ate of\nthe fine wheaten cakes baked by the mother of the young Lord Diuk, and\nleft no crumb behind. When they were well satisfied, the lady mother\nshowed them her son's horses; and they took parchment and tried to\ncount up their value in roubles, but the figures confused their eyes\nand vexed them so that they gave up the task. Then she showed them the\nshoes of her son; and they took parchment again and tried to tell the\ntale of their value, but once more they gave up in despair. After that\nshe led them to the wine-cellars and to the treasury of trappings for\nhorses with the same result. At last Nikitich said: \"Leave us here,\nseated before this single saddle ornamented with all the jewels of\nIndia, and let us compute the value of it alone.\" The lady graciously\ngave her consent; and they stayed three years over their task of\ncomputation, but at the end of that time they had not finished one\ntenth of the work.\n\nThen they sent a message to Vladimir which ran:\n\n\"Sell Kiev for parchment and Chernigof for ink, and then we shall\nperhaps be able to make a beginning of computing the possessions of\nthe young Lord Diuk.\"\n\nWhen Vladimir had read this message he set out with a great company\nfor India the Glorious, and Diuk went in his train; and when they\ncame to the palace of the lady mother, they found that not one-tenth\nof its splendour had been told to them.\n\nAs they stood there, three men came before them whose forms were\nwithered up like shavings; and they looked long upon them and\nvery earnestly before they saw that these men were Nikitich and his\ncompanions, who had shrunken from grief at the greatness of their task\nand their inability to perform it. But the young Lord Diuk consoled\nthem and feasted the company right well before they set out, still\nin quiet wonder, on their way back to Kiev town.\n\nWhen they were gone the lady mother turned to her son and asked:\n\n\"Did I not speak truth? Was there aught in Kiev or in the train of\nVladimir to compare with India the Glorious?\"\n\n\"Only one thing, lady mother,\" said Diuk, who had seen enough of\nsplendour, \"a man and a hero, Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck. And for\nhis renown I would barter all the wealth of India the Glorious.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE STORY OF KASYAN AND THE DREAM MAIDEN\n\n\nOf all the mighty heroes of Holy Russia one of the mightiest was young\nKasyan, the leader of a band of forty. Brave he was, without equal,\nwho had fought against the accursed Tatars, and had won great renown in\nbattle against infidel hordes; but he had never taken the golden crowns\nnor loved any lady except the Dream Maiden, whose image he kept ever\nin his golden heart. For she had come to him in a vision; and whether\nshe were a lily for whiteness, a rose for redness, or a violet for\ndarkness he could not tell. He knew only that he would know her when\nhe met her among the warrior-maids or gentle hearth-dwellers of Holy\nRussia, and that she would know him also. But in all his wanderings\nand among all the fair maidens of palace and plain, he had seen no\nliving lady who could compare with the Dream Maiden; though many a\nPrincess and noble-woman of high descent had favoured him secretly\nor openly, and had longed to be hailed as the beauty of his vision.\n\nOn the broad and open plain he assembled his band of forty, and they\ncame to a halt in a green meadow, dismounted from their nimble steeds,\nand sat down in a ring to tell of adventure and to take counsel as to\nthe next journey to be made across the boundless steppe. They told\nmany tales of far journeys and bold deeds, and boasted of death as\nif it were a pretty plaything. Then when silence fell upon them young\nKasyan spoke:\n\n\"Greatly have ye sinned against the Most High, ye mighty heroes of\nHoly Russia; for though ye are bold and fearless, ye have made a\nplaything of death and shed much blood without cause. Will you agree,\none and all, to follow out my plan? It would be better that each\nof us should now go on a pilgrimage to the holy city of Jerusalem,\nto pray in the Holy of Holies, to visit the grave of the Risen Lord,\nand to bathe in Jordan river, for in this way only shall we win pardon\nfor our sins. But before we go, it will be well if we take a vow--the\nkeeping of which will prove our heroic strength--not to rob or steal,\nnot to look with love upon the face of any maiden, and not to stain\nour hands with blood. And if any of our band shall break his vow then\nshall his nimble feet be hewn off at the knee, and his white hands at\nthe elbow, his far-seeing eyes shall be darkened, and his tongue cut\nout, and he shall be buried up to the breast in moist Mother Earth.\"\n\nThe heroes agreed at once to the word of Kasyan, and rising to their\nfeet loosed their good steeds and gave them their freedom. Then they\ndressed themselves in pilgrims' dress of the hue of the scarlet poppy,\nand slung over their shoulders the beggars' wallets of black velvet\nembroidered in thread of red gold and set with fine seed pearls,\nwhile on their heads they placed the pilgrims' caps. With curving\nstaves of walrus tusks in their hands, they set out upon their way,\ntravelling by day in the light of the glorious sun, and at night in\nthe radiance which came from the jewels set thickly in their shoes\nof fine leather. So they passed onward from town to town and from\ncity to city until they came to Kiev.\n\nIn the open plain near the city they met Prince Vladimir hunting the\nmartens, black sables, white swans, grey geese, and downy ducks,\nand as the royal party drew near to them the pilgrims shouted:\n\"Vladimir, Fair Sun of Kiev, give alms to the wandering pilgrims. Not\na pittance but a royal gift will we take from such as you, even a\nnoble benefaction of forty thousand roubles.\" Then the Prince lifted\nhis hand to stay the hunt, and dismounting from his horse, greeted\nthe holy pilgrims with the reverence which he paid to the Saints,\nand begged them to sing in his hearing the sweetest of the holy songs,\neven the psalm of Elena, which he was longing to hear.\n\nSo the one-and-forty pilgrims placed their staves in damp Mother\nEarth and hung their wallets upon them. Then standing in a circle\nthey sang the sweetest of the holy songs, even the psalm of Elena;\nand as the sound welled upward to the heavens the bosom of moist\nMother Earth heaved and trembled as if with mingled joy and grief,\nthe pine trees shook in a neighbouring wood, far away the oak trees\nupon the mountains bowed their heads, and the birds were hushed into\nsilence. The Prince was strangely moved, and at length could listen\nno longer, for the sound of the holy psalm showed him all that he\nmight be as a King and a Leader; so he held up his hand to cause the\nmusic to cease, and the one-and-forty pilgrims took their wallets\nfrom their staves and made ready to pursue their journey.\n\n\"I have no roubles with me,\" said the courteous Prince, \"nor can I\nrefresh you as you deserve and as I desire. But go onward to Kiev\ntown to the Princess Apraxia, who in my name will give you food and\ndrink and lodging.\"\n\nSo they journeyed on until they came to Kiev town, where they went\nto the palace and gave the pilgrims' cry; and at this piercing sound\nfrom so many heroic throats the Princess Apraxia came in haste to the\nwindow of her apartment, with her golden hair all unbound, and thrust\nherself from the window to her waist. Then she saw the young Kasyan\namong the foremost, and knew him for the dreamer who had troubled\nthe hearts of so many fair ladies; and there came into her heart\na burning desire that he should find her as beautiful as the Dream\nMaiden and should tell her so.\n\nThe one-and-forty pilgrims were now conducted to an ante-chamber and\nfrom thence, after a little time, to the great hall, where they bowed\nto North, South, East, and West, and particularly to the Princess\nApraxia, who was now arrayed more splendidly than ever before. She\ngave them a gracious welcome and ordered the cloths with drawn-thread\nwork to be laid upon the white oaken tables, and the richest of food\nwith the sweetest of drinks to be set before her guests. The Princess\nherself sat at the high table with her nurses and ladies and a host of\nbold warrior maids, and Kasyan sat in the great corner. He had laid\naside his cap and from his fair hair the sun seemed to shine, while\nhis eyes rested upon the company of ladies for a while, searching\ndiligently, after his manner, for the Dream Maiden; but though all\nthe beauty of Holy Russia was now before his eyes he turned away,\nafter a while, to contemplate the painted pictures of holy saints.\n\nWhen the feast was over the pilgrims were conducted each to his own\napartment, where he might pray before retiring to rest. Now as Kasyan\nsat in holy meditation the door was opened and the Princess Apraxia\nentered softly. She was dressed in a simple robe of gleaming whiteness\nwith a girdle of ruddy gold, and holding out her hands she cried in\nquivering tones:\n\n\"Am I not fair as the Dream Maiden, young Kasyan?\"\n\n\"Nay, not so,\" was the cold answer. \"Princess, ask Vladimir for\nhis thoughts on your beauty.\" Then the young pilgrim turned aside,\nand with anger in her heart the Princess Apraxia left the room. But\nwhile he slept she came again very quietly, took down his pilgrim's\nwallet from the place where it hung, cut it open and placed within\nit the silver loving-cup from which Prince Vladimir always drank when\nhe returned from his hunting. Then she sewed up the velvet once more,\nso neatly, that the place of the rent could not be seen.\n\nNext morning, as the early sun was rising, the one-and-forty pilgrims\narose, washed themselves in cold spring water and prayed to God. The\nPrincess was already astir and saw that her guests were well\nsupplied. Then having satisfied their heroic hunger, they called\ndown a blessing upon Prince Vladimir and upon Princess Apraxia,\nswung their wallets over their shoulders and set out for the holy\ncity of Jerusalem.\n\nA short time after their departure Vladimir returned from his hunting,\nand sat down to appease his mighty hunger. Then he called for his\nsilver loving-cup, and the stewards searched for it in all corners of\nthe palace, but were not able to find it. The Prince was very angry,\nand looking round upon his household he asked sternly, \"Which of you\nhath taken the royal cup?\"\n\nNone spoke for a moment, and then the clear, cold voice of the Princess\nwas heard. \"My Prince and Lord,\" she said, \"we feasted yesterday a band\nof one-and-forty pilgrims, in accordance with your own desires. It may\nbe that they have stolen the royal cup.\" Thereupon Prince Vladimir\ngave the word, and a company of heroes sprang to their feet, eager\nto ride after the pilgrim band. But as they prepared themselves the\nvoice of Ilya of Murom was heard from the great corner:\n\n\"These were no psalm-singers,\" he said, \"but heroes of the\nboldest. Whom have we worthy to go and outface them.\"\n\n\"I will send Alyosha alone,\" said Vladimir, and it was done in\naccordance with his word, the messenger being commanded to speak\ngently to the pilgrims. But when he overtook them he called out in\nan angry voice:\n\n\"Ho, there, ye thieves and robbers. Restore to me now without dispute\nthe royal cup which you have stolen.\"\n\nAt this discourteous speech young Kasyan sprang to his nimble feet,\ngrasped his travelling staff of walrus ivory as if it were his heroic\nmace and flourished it about his head.\n\n\"Think you,\" he cried in righteous anger, \"that we went to Kiev\ntown for the royal cup? Come nigh to me and I will punish you as you\nrichly deserve.\"\n\nBut Alyosha did not dare to come within the whirling circle of that\nivory cudgel. He wheeled his horse about and returning in haste to\nKiev told how the robbers had set upon him when he asked for the cup,\nand how he had escaped with difficulty from their heroic turbulence.\n\n\"Alyosha is a fool of an ambassador,\" said Ilya of Murom, \"send\nNikitich. He knows how to sweeten valour with courtesy.\"\n\nSo Nikitich mounted his horse at once, and when he came to the\npilgrims, who were seated in a ring on the open plain, he said:\n\n\"All hail, ye one-and-forty holy men. I ask for your hospitality.\"\n\n\"All hail, goodly youth,\" was the reply, \"sit with us here and share\nour humble fare.\"\n\nThen Nikitich sat with them, and in hesitation began his\nmessage. \"There is great trouble,\" he said gently, \"in the palace of\nPrince Vladimir, for the royal loving-cup is mislaid and without it\nthe Prince cannot refresh himself after his hunting. Let me therefore\nbeg of you, good youths, to look within your pilgrims' wallets and\nsee whether it has strayed into one of them in error.\"\n\nThe one-and-forty looked at each other, and then forty turned and\nlooked at Kasyan. \"It is well, good comrades,\" said their leader,\n\"to satisfy the courteous youth. Open your wallets and show him what\nthey contain, for we can do this without fear.\" Thereupon all the\npilgrims sprang to their nimble feet, opened their wallets and showed\nNikitich what they contained, but the royal cup was not to be found\namong the forty. Last of all Kasyan opened his velvet wallet and,\nlo! the loving-cup was found within.\n\nThen the forty pilgrims looked in anger and sadness upon Kasyan. \"What\nshall we do to you now, young Kasyan?\" they asked sternly. \"Did you\nnot impose the great vow upon us of your own choice?\"\n\n\"Beloved comrades,\" said their leader, \"I did not steal the royal\ncup. Nevertheless do now what has been agreed amongst us, and break\nnot your great vow for me.\"\n\nThen they wept sorely, but they took Kasyan and did with him in\naccordance with their terrible vow. After that they prayed to God\nand went on their way once more to the holy city of Jerusalem. Young\nNikitich stood in silence while the vow was performed, and then\nrode back at great speed to Kiev town, where he gave the cup to\nPrince Vladimir and told of all he had seen. When he had finished\nthe Princess Apraxia fell in her place to the floor; and when her\nladies had restored her she spoke no word, but unloosing her golden\nhair and unbinding her golden girdle she went unto the courtyard and\nlay upon the great dung-heap.\n\nPrince Vladimir now prepared himself to go and see the wonder of the\nfulfilment of the vow. But before he could reach the place where\nKasyan had been buried to the breast in moist Mother Earth there\npassed over the boundless white plain an aged saint with flowing\nbeard, ruddy cheeks, and eyes which shone with the laughter of boys\nand girls. With his holy hands he restored Kasyan to his completeness,\nhis manly strength and youthful beauty, and set him again upon his\nnimble feet, saying:\n\n\"Go thy way, young Kasyan, and thou shalt overtake the forty at the\nfirst inn upon the way to the holy city of Jerusalem. Pray in that holy\ncity, visit the grave of the risen Lord and bathe in Jordan river. And\nwhen you come home again build a cathedral church to St. Nicholas,\nwho loves all men and especially youths and maidens.\" Then the old\nman vanished from sight; it was only a snow-wreath driven before the\nwinter wind across the white world and he was gone.\n\nYoung Kasyan went on his way and late on that same evening he\novertook his companions, who, when they saw that he was much more\ncomely than he had ever been, rejoiced over him and praised God for\nHis goodness. Meanwhile Prince Vladimir had come to the place where\nyoung Kasyan had been buried and found a deep pit only, whereupon he\nand his company returned in wondering amazement to Kiev town.\n\n\n\nOnce more the one-and-forty pilgrims home returning stood at the\ngateway of Prince Vladimir's palace, asking alms in the name of the\nRisen Lord. Then the Prince begged them with reverence to enter his\ngreat hall and partake of his hospitality, and they came within the\nportals. But before they sat down to meat Kasyan asked that he might\nbe taken to the Princess, who still lay upon the dung-heap, and whom\nwhen he saw in her sorrow and debasement he breathed upon with his\nholy breath. Then he laid his white hand upon her lowly head and\npardoned her, and she arose, arrayed herself, and had never seemed\nso fair in the eyes of her lord, Prince Vladimir.\n\nThen after feasting and quiet merriment the one-and-forty pilgrims\nwent to their own home; and young Kasyan raised a cathedral church to\nSt. Nicholas, who loved all men and especially youths and maidens;\nand for himself he spent his time in holy deeds and in ministration\nto the poor, loving always the Dream Maiden only and keeping her ever\nin his golden heart.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHOW STAVR THE NOBLE WAS SAVED BY A WOMAN'S WILES\n\n\nStavr the Noble lived in Chernigof, and when the daughter of Prince\nVladimir was honoured at her father's feast he was among the guests\nbut took no part in the boasting. For he sat all silent while the\nheroes praised their heroic chargers, their mighty strength, or their\nrich store of treasure, and while the merchants bragged of their great\nwealth of Siberian fox-skins or sables. Now when the Prince saw Stavr\nsitting all silent, he poured out with his own royal hands a cup of\ngreen wine and brought it to him, courteously inquiring why he would\nneither eat nor drink.\n\n\"You do not eat of the white swan, Lord Stavr,\" he said, \"nor do you\nmake any boast along with the others. Have you then no towns with\nwide suburbs, or villages with subject hamlets, nor yet a good mother,\nnor a beautiful young wife of whom you may make your boast?\"\n\n\"I have enough of which I might boast,\" said Stavr. \"What petty town\nis this of Kiev? My palace alone covers five miles, my halls of white\noak are hung with pelts of the grey beaver, the roof with skins of\nthe black sable. The floors are of silver and the locks and bars are\nof steel.\n\n\"Furthermore, Prince Vladimir, I have thirty young men in my hire,\neach one a master shoemaker. With never a pause the thirty continue\nmaking shoes, and I wear a pair for one day and only by a chance wear\nthem a second day. After I have cast off a pair of these shoes they are\ntaken to the market and sold to some prince or nobleman for their full\nvalue. I have another thirty young men in my hire, each one a master\ntailor. With never a pause the thirty continue making coats, and I wear\na coat for one day and only by a chance wear it for a second day. After\nI have cast off one of these coats it is taken to the market and sold\nto some prince or nobleman for its full value. But I am no boaster.\"\n\n\"Moreover,\" he went on, after a short pause for breath, \"I have a\nmare with a golden coat which cost at a market price five hundred\nroubles. On the best of her foals I ride abroad myself, while the\nworst are sold to princes and nobles, who are delighted when they\nget them. But I am no boaster.\"\n\n\"Yet there is one treasure,\" he continued, \"of which I will boast,\nand that is my wife Vasilissa, who could buy all Kiev town in one\nmarket and sell it in the next, who could by her wiles deceive the\nmost dignified princes and nobles, and drive even Prince Vladimir\nout of his mind.\"\n\nFor a moment no one among the guests spoke a single word, but Prince\nVladimir sat in his place with ever darkening brow. Then some of the\nmen about him said:\n\n\"Prince Vladimir, Fair Sun of Kiev, it is not meet to permit this\nboaster to flout us all. Let him be cast into a cold, dark dungeon,\nand then let his young wife Vasilissa buy all Kiev town in one market\nand sell it in the next, let her by her wiles deceive us all, and\nlet her, if she can, drive even Prince Vladimir out of his mind.\"\n\nThe counsel seemed wise to the Prince, and he ordered his guards\nto fasten iron fetters on the feet and hands of Stavr, and to place\nhim in a cold, dark dungeon, with doors of iron and locks of steel,\nand there feed him on frozen oats and cold spring water. This was\ndone forthwith, but while the Prince's command was being performed\nthe body-servant of Stavr took horse and rode homeward to Chernigof,\nwhere he found Vasilissa presiding at a great feast which she had made\nfor the wives of the rich traders and the councillors of the town,\nincluding also the wife of the Elder, who was of great consequence.\n\nWhen the young Vasilissa heard the news from Kiev town she rose in\nher place at the board and said:\n\n\"It is time, good dames, that ye went to your own dwellings.\"\n\nThen they all did so without a word, and Vasilissa sat pondering\nfor the space of three full hours. \"It is not a matter of ransom,\nhowever high the offer,\" she said to herself, \"nor of force, however\ngreat and courageous, but it is a matter for a woman's wit.\"\n\nThen she rose in her place, went to her own apartment and summoned\nthe ladies of her wardrobe.\n\n\"My trusty maids,\" she said, \"cut off my red gold hair, dress me like\nan envoy to a prince and prepare for me a heroic steed. I go now as\nambassador from Kodol Island to Prince Vladimir, the Fair Sun of Kiev,\nasking the hand of his daughter Lovely in honourable marriage.\"\n\nIn a short space of time she was ready, shorn and dressed like a\ngoodly gallant and a prince's envoy. Then they brought her heroic\nsteed, and she rode off, surrounded by a brave body-guard of forty\nyouths of the stoutest, across the open, boundless glorious plain,\nand as she rode she trilled a merry song.\n\nHalf of the journey was accomplished when the party met a rider whose\nface was sternly set towards the city of Chernigof. They greeted\nhim courteously, and reining in his horse he asked the leader of the\nparty who he was and where he was going.\n\n\"I am the ambassador of King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich,\" was the\nanswer, \"and I am on my way to collect tribute from any princes who\nvalue their lives above roubles. Whither away, yourself?\"\n\n\"I am the messenger of Prince Vladimir,\" returned the other, \"and\nI am on my way to lock the doors of Stavr's palace of white stone,\nand to conduct his young wife Vasilissa to Kiev town.\"\n\n\"You are too late,\" said the youths of the bodyguard, \"for the Lady\nVasilissa has left the palace of her husband and has gone away to a\ndistant land.\"\n\nThe messenger thanked the young men for their news, and turning his\nsteed, rode swiftly back to Kiev town, where he informed his royal\nmaster that an ambassador from the stern King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich\nwas on his way, with a strong body-guard, to collect tribute from\nany prince who valued his life above roubles. At this intelligence\nVladimir was sorely troubled, but gave orders that the streets of\nKiev should be cleaned without delay, and that logs of wood should\nbe placed across the muddy holes, so that a fair passage might be\nafforded to the body-guard.\n\nWhen Vasilissa reached the outskirts of Kiev town she put her good\nsteed to the walls and leapt lightly over them into the courtyard\nof Vladimir's palace of white stone. Then she leapt from her horse,\nthrust the butt end of her spear into moist Mother Earth, and flung\nthe bridle over the point. With the stride of a bold envoy she passed\nthe guards without greeting, and came into the royal hall, where\nshe bowed to North, South, East, and West, and especially to Prince\nVladimir. Then she turned to the Prince, and making known her name\nas Vasily Mikulich, the envoy of King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich, she\ndemanded the hand of Prince Vladimir's daughter Lovely in honourable\nmarriage. The Prince looked earnestly at the bold wooer and then said:\n\n\"It is well. I will give you the hand of my daughter Lovely in\nhonourable marriage.\"\n\nThen, after due notice had been given, he went in state to his\ndaughter's apartment to tell her with all the solemnity which the\noccasion demanded, that he had chosen for her a goodly husband whose\nclaim upon her love was supported by a strong body-guard of forty\ngood youths.\n\nBut Lovely looked with a smile at her royal father, and then\nlooked again with a laugh. \"Why, father,\" she said, \"this is no bold\nambassador from the Island of Kodol or elsewhere; from King Yetmanuila\nYetmanuilovich or any other stern-eyed monarch. It is a woman. Why,\nwhen he walks in the courtyard I think of a duck in the pond. When he\nspeaks I think of the note of a flute. When he walks in the palace\nI think of the dance, and when he sits on the bench of white oak\nhe presses his feet close together. His hands are lily white with\ntaper fingers, and upon them the marks of rings are plainly to be\ndiscovered.\" Then Lovely laughed and laughed again, and the sound\nwas not pleasant to Prince Vladimir, the Fair Sun of Kiev, who walked\naway to the window.\n\n\"I will prove her,\" he said, after pondering for a time. Then he\nleft the apartment and came to the ambassador. \"Will it please you,\"\nhe said courteously, \"to accept the challenge of my heroes to a\nshooting match?\"\n\n\"I have longed for many things,\" was the quick reply, \"but for none\nso much as to receive such a challenge.\" Then without further delay\nthey went out upon the open plain and began to shoot at an oak tree\nstanding at a distance of about a mile. One shot and another shot,\none struck and another missed, the shooting was good and not so good,\nand the old oak merely shook its smaller boughs as if a summer breeze\nwere blowing.\n\nThen it came to the turn of the ambassador from the stern King\nYetmanuila Yetmanuilovich, and stepping forward the envoy said, \"I\nwill not shoot with one of the heroic bows of Kiev. I have within the\nfair white linen pavilion in which I have lodged my brave body-guard\na little bow which I always carry with me when my royal master sends\nme upon an embassy across the open steppe.\" Then at a hail from the\nenvoy the brave body-guard brought out the bow. Five of them carried\nit at one end and five at the other, while the remaining thirty bold\nyouths dragged along the quiver filled full of flaming arrows. Then\nthe ambassador took the little travelling bow in her hand and fitted\nto the bow-string a flaming shaft of steel.\n\nThe cord twanged, Prince Vladimir stepped quickly aside, the arrow\nsang a journeying song and shivered the trunk of the ancient oak,\nso that the sun streamed through it.\n\n\"I will prove this ambassador once again,\" murmured Prince Vladimir\nin his royal beard. \"If he (she) be a woman he (she) will have no\ntaste for a wrestling match.\"\n\nThen he got together his strong wrestlers and assembled them in a brave\ncompany. \"Will it please you,\" he said courteously, \"bold ambassador of\nthe stern King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich, to try a bout of wrestling.\"\n\n\"Have you then bold wrestlers, as well as expert bowmen?\" asked the\nenvoy. \"I have often wrestled with children during my childhood, and\nI can but make a bold man's effort.\" Then the ambassador grasped two\nbrave wrestlers in one heroic arm and three brave wrestlers in the\nother heroic arm, and cracked their skulls together until the Prince\nbegged the wrestler with children to spare his brave heroes. Then\nsaid the ambassador:\n\n\"I came to woo your daughter Lovely, Prince Vladimir, and if you\nwill not give her to me with your blessing, I will take her with\nyour curse.\"\n\n\"You shall have her by my own consent,\" said the King, \"for with such\na wooer her own consent does not greatly matter.\"\n\nThen Prince Vladimir seized the occasion to make a great wedding-feast,\nwhich lasted with intervals for resting for the full space of three\ndays. When the feast was over the bride and bridegroom were about to\nbe led to the church to take the golden crowns, but the ambassador\nsat sad and silent in the hall.\n\n\"What ails you on your wedding morning?\" asked the father of the bride.\n\n\"I know not,\" was the reply. \"It may be that my father has died or\nmy mother, and my heaviness is the sign of grief. Perchance I need\nsome music. Call the harp players, and let us see if they can dispel\nmy heaviness.\"\n\nSo the harpers were called, and they sang of the great deeds of\nSvyatogor, of Ilya of Murom, and of Ivan the son of Golden Tress,\nbut for all their skill and sweetness the heaviness of the ambassador\nwas not dispelled.\n\n\"I heard in my own home,\" he said, when the music ceased, \"of a\nskilful player upon the harp of maple wood whose name was Stavr of\nChernigof. Send for him, and let us see if he can dispel my heaviness.\"\n\n\"If I do it not,\" said Vladimir in his royal beard, \"I shall anger\nthe stern King Yetmanuila Yetmanuilovich. If I do it, Stavr may be\nfreed from my prison.\" Yet he did it.\n\nThen Stavr came, and, standing before the ambassador, plucked\nthe strings of his harp of maple wood. And he sang brave songs of\nheroic victory, and gentle songs of constancy in love. As he sang,\nthe ambassador began to sleep and dream, and from these signs the\nroyal host knew well that his guest was pleased and delighted and\nthankful beyond measure. Then with a gentle sigh the envoy woke and\nthe music ceased.\n\n\"A boon, O Prince,\" cried he; \"let Stavr go to my white pavilion to\nentertain my brave body-guard as he has entertained me.\"\n\nSuch a request from one who had paid the musician the high honour of\ndreaming to his music could not be refused, and Stavr was allowed to\ngo out of the banquet-hall with the ambassador by his side.\n\nNow when they came out into the bright sunlight and had almost reached\nthe pavilion, Vasilissa looked up at her husband and said:\n\n\"Do you not know me, Stavr?\"\n\n\"Alas and alack!\" said he, rubbing his eyes, \"after such a time in\nsuch a dungeon I cannot recall the faces of far-off years.\"\n\n\"Stupid,\" said she. \"Do you not know your own young wife Vasilissa,\nof whom you made your boast?\"\n\n\"I would know Vasilissa if I had not seen her for thirteen years,\"\nsaid Stavr, with a great deal of certainty and not a little vexation.\n\n\"Stupider and stupider,\" said Vasilissa, turning away. \"I am certain\nthat you would not know her after three months.\"\n\nThen she went into the pavilion, where she put off her ambassador's\ngarments and dressed herself as Vasilissa, placing a coif upon her\nhead to hide her shortened hair. When she came forth Stavr dropped\nhis harp of maple wood upon the lap of moist Mother Earth, and taking\nhis young wife by her lily-white hands, he kissed her sugar mouth.\n\n\"Let us ride, my fair one,\" he said, \"ride fast and far.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" was the reply; \"we shall not steal away but march away from\nroyal Kiev town. Let us go back to Prince Vladimir, and to Lovely,\nmy promised bride.\"\n\nSo they went back to the Prince and told him all their tale. \"With\ngood reason did Stavr boast of his young wife,\" he said, with a laugh,\nand then with a frown he added, \"but what of Lovely the forsaken bride,\nfor whom I chose a husband?\"\n\n\"She will doubtless be easily consoled,\" said Vasilissa, \"and will\nchoose her next bridegroom for herself. May he harp as well and boast\nnot so well as Stavr of Chernigof.\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTHE GOLDEN HORDE\n\n\nPrince Vladimir lost no occasion of making a royal feast, and his\nbanquets were the admiration of Holy Russia and of all the white\nworld. To one banquet he invited a large number of princes, nobles,\nmighty heroes and their body-guards, as well as a company of merchant\nprinces who had bought land with their wealth in order that they\nmight be accounted gentlemen. The host made good cheer, the food was\nof the richest, the wine of the greenest, and the white oak tables\ngleamed like the newly fallen snow on the wide steppe. The stove\nglowed fiercely, and Ilya sat in the great corner honoured of all.\n\nAs the wine-cup passed, the heart of Prince Vladimir grew more and\nmore generous, and he gave cities to one prince, towns to a second,\nvillages to a third, and hamlets to another; but to Ilya he gave a\ncloak of marten skins with a collar of sables. Then the hero arose,\nleft the banquet-hall with the cloak held out at arm's length from\nhim, and came at last to the kitchen. There he dragged the cloak\nabout the brick floor by one sleeve as if he wished to defoul it and\nsaid savagely:\n\n\"Just as I drag about this cloak of marten skins with its collar of\nsables, I will drag about that poisonous serpent Tsar Kalin by his\nyellow curls. As I pour green wine upon this cloak,\" suiting the\naction to the word, \"I will pour out his heart's blood.\"\n\nThen a kitchenmaid came with unwashed face into the presence of\nPrince Vladimir, and said without preface: \"Ilya hath been in my\nkitchen and hath dragged about the brick floor the mantle of marten\nskins with the collar of sables, saying that even so would he drag\nVladimir by his yellow curls. And he has poured green wine upon the\nmantle, saying that even so would he pour out the heart's blood of\nPrince Vladimir.\" Then wiping her hands upon her apron she added,\n\"And I know not what to do in the matter.\"\n\nPrince Vladimir rose to his feet and his face was black with anger. \"Ye\nmighty heroes!\" he cried, raising his right hand aloft, \"lead Ilya\nto our dungeon and place him behind the iron grating. Pile up trunks\nof oak trees against the door and heap yellow sand over all.\"\n\nAt once a great company of heroes left the banquet-hall, and coming to\nthe kitchen stood in a ring round Ilya, who smiled at them as a father\nmight smile at his boys; and no man laid hands upon him, for he was the\npride of them all. \"Help us now, Ilya of Murom,\" they said, \"or Prince\nVladimir will visit upon us his sore displeasure.\" So Ilya, smiling\nstill, called Cloudfall, saddled him and rode himself to the entrance\nof the dungeon. There he dismounted and let the shaggy bay steed go\nfree, after having taken from him his saddle and plaited bridle.\n\nThen Ilya went down into the dungeon, and the heroes set up the iron\ngrating, piled up trunks of oak trees at the door, and heaped yellow\nsand over all, as the prince had commanded. After that they went\nback to their host, who praised them for their obedience and their\nexpedition; but Princess Apraxia dug a deep passage underground,\nand with her own fair hands carried food of the richest and drink\nof the sweetest to Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck. And this went on\nfor three years, until Tsar Kalin heard of it, and he was head of\nthe Golden Horde, who in all his wanderings had seen no fairer lady\nthan the Princess Apraxia, whom he meant to take as his own in spite\nof Prince Vladimir and all his band of well-fed heroes.\n\nTsar Kalin assembled the Golden Horde, which was in number like\nthe yellow sands upon the seashore, to ride against the royal town\nof Kiev. Under him were forty Tsars and Tsareviches, and forty\nKings and their heirs, each with a company of forty thousand men,\nand when the host was all assembled it stood along the banks of\nswift-flowing Mother Dnieper and round about Kiev town on all sides\nfor a distance of a hundred miles all told--a goodly escort for a\nfair princess. When all was ready Tsar Kalin sat down upon an armless\nchair in his gold-embroidered tent of white linen, and wrote a letter\nin great haste, using a swan-quill pen with molten gold in place of\nink, and crimson velvet in place of parchment. Then he called his\nbest and favourite runner and gave the royal letter into his hands.\n\n\"Go,\" he said, \"to the town of Kiev, falsely styled 'royal.' Enter\nnot by the gates of shining white oak, but leap over the city\nwall. Dismount not, but riding your charger enter without announcement\nthe palace of white stone. Set the door wide open, but do not close it\nbehind you. Bow not to North, South, East, or West, and do no special\nreverence to Prince Vladimir. But stand right over against him,\nand fling this letter upon the table, saying to him:\n\n\"Take this letter and ask Nikitich, the young man of supernatural\nwisdom who can both read and write, to tell thee what it contains,\nfor it disposes in set terms of all your pretensions to royalty. Clean\nall the streets of Kiev town, take down the wonder-working crosses of\nthe Holy Temples--but leave upon the domes the tall fiery darts of\nIlya lest Falcon the Hunter should still be alive--and build stalls\nfor horses in the churches. Cleanse also your palaces of white stone\nand prepare beds without number, for our host is great. Brew sweet\nliquors, for our thirst is also great, and let cask stand upon cask\nin noble array. For in less than two days Tsar Kalin and his great\nhost shall walk the streets of Kiev, and our master shall wed the\nPrincess Apraxia.\"\n\nThe boldness and the careful detail of the command caused the heart of\nPrince Vladimir to sink very low, and the best he could imagine was to\ngain time. So he caused Nikitich to write a letter in reply, saying:\n\"Cleaning and fermenting are both slow processes. I shall need a space\nof three months to prepare this city for its coming guests.\" Then\nthe favourite runner of Tsar Kalin brought this submissive reply to\nhis master, and the truce was granted.\n\nPrince Vladimir paced to and fro in his chamber, chewing his moustache,\nand occasionally heaving a heavy sigh when no one was near. Meanwhile,\nthe cleaning and the brewing were proceeding apace, for as Princess\nApraxia said quietly, \"There is nothing lost by cleanliness, and a\ngood store in the larders and the cellar, for who knows which of our\nfriends will sleep in the clean beds and partake of our cheer.\"\n\n\"Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck is no more,\" said Prince\nVladimir bitterly. \"There is no hero to fight for our faith and\nfatherland. There is none to defend Prince Vladimir.\" When the busy\nPrincess heard these words she paused for a moment in her work and\nsaid, \"Little father, command thy trusty servants to go to the deep\ndungeon and see whether Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck be even yet\nalive.\" Then she went on with her dusting, for the china bowls and\ncups from Farthest East were always her own particular care.\n\n\"Foolish princess,\" said her husband, pausing in his pacing to and\nfro. \"If I cut off your light head, will it grow again? How can the\nyouthful aged one be alive after three years' starvation?\" The Princess\nsaid nothing, but went on with her work, and in a few moments Vladimir\nhimself went off to the dungeon on the desperate chance. And there,\nto his wonder, he found Ilya lying on cushions of down, with food of\nthe richest and wine of the greenest on a table beside him, on which\nwas also spread a wonderful written parchment of the Holy Gospels.\n\nVladimir was so much astonished to find Ilya not only alive and well,\nbut to all appearance very comfortable and happy, that he bowed to\nNorth, South, East, and West, and then particularly to the hero. \"Come\nforth, Ilya,\" he said, as if he had taken no share in the Old Coss\u00e1ck's\nimprisonment. \"Come forth, and defend us against the Golden Horde,\nfor the sake of the widows and orphans which are to be.\" Ilya smiled\ngently and rose slowly from his seat of comfort, for three years'\nrestraint had somewhat stiffened him. Then Vladimir hastened to take\nhim by the hands, as if he had quite forgiven him for a crime which\nhe had never committed, and leading him to his own table, placed him\nin the great corner and heaped food of the best before him.\n\nBut Ilya was not hungry, and he left the table without a word, for he\nwanted heroic exercise most of all. In the open field he saw Cloudfall\ngrazing quietly as though his master had ridden him only yesterday;\nand you may be quite certain and absolutely sure that no other rider\nhad during the past three years sat on the back of the faithful shaggy\nbay steed. The horse gave a joyful chuckle when Ilya once more drew\nnear to him, and as his master proceeded to saddle him he turned his\nhead about and gazed upon him with heroic approbation.\n\nCertain of the people of Vladimir's palace saw Ilya mount upon\nCloudfall, but they did not see him as he rode away, so swift was\nhis flight--there was but a smoke wreath on the open steppe and\nstreams of water burst forth where good Cloudfall's hoofs beat upon\nthe ground. He gave a great leap upwards and alighted on the crest of\na lofty mountain, from whence he looked out across the open plain to\nsee if any of the heroes were within sight who had come out to defend\nHoly Russia against the Golden Horde of the Tatars.\n\nFar away in the east he saw the white linen pavilions of the heroes\nwho had helped him to form the barrier against Falcon the Hunter,\nand the sun shone brightly on their golden embroideries. At the\nopening of one snowy tent his keen eyes could descry even at that\ndistance how the fine wheat had been shaken out upon the earth for\nthe delight of a hero's charger, and how that same hero had planted\nupright a spear of heroic height and hung upon it a golden tassel,\nnot for vanity of youthfulness, but as a signal to all the enemies of\nHoly Russia that a champion abode within that pavilion. As he stood\nthere with his hand shading his eyes Ilya saw another hero come to\nthat vicinity and, even at that far distance, he knew him for the\nyoung man of supernatural wisdom--Nikitich, who could both read and\nwrite. He saw how the new-comer pitched his pavilion, shook out fine\nwheat for his charger's delight, planted a lofty spear and displayed\ntwo tassels, not for vanity of youthfulness, but to show that a hero\nand a scholar abode in that pavilion.\n\nThen Ilya came down from the mountain-top, and before you could say\nSvyatogor he had arrived in the space between the two upright staffs,\nwhere he gave Cloudfall the rein that he might take his share of the\nfine wheat, planted his own lofty spear and hung three tassels upon\nit, as a sign that a hero, a scholar, and a landed gentleman had come\nto the assistance of Holy Russia against the Golden Horde. He now\nentered one of the snowy pavilions, where he found twelve Russian\nheroes sitting at meat, who all rose to their feet, kissed him and\nbade him welcome, whereupon they sat down again to go forward with\nthe business of eating. But as he was not yet hungry Ilya did not\njoin them. He hastened to explain his mission, and asked for their\nhelp in defending Kiev town, Vladimir, and Princess Apraxia. But one\nof them said:\n\n\"Nay, nay, Ilya of Murom, we will not mount our steeds to defend Kiev\ntown, Vladimir, and his Princess. For he has many princely nobles, whom\nhe feasts right heroically and upon whom he bestows the richest gifts.\"\n\n\"It will be the worse for all of you,\" said Ilya, in great anger,\nand their voices rose in wrath so that the good steeds raised their\nheads from the fine wheat and looked with intelligent wonder through\nthe opening of the pavilion.\n\nMeanwhile Vladimir wrapped himself in his black velvet mantle, which\nwas trimmed with marten, and paced to and fro in his palace in Kiev\ntown, for the time of the truce was almost over, and so far the heroes\nhad not made their appearance. Now as he paced up and down to soothe\nhis anxiety his nephew Yermak came to him and begged that he might\nhave a warrior's charger, a coat of heavy chain mail and a ponderous\nmace, as well as leave to ride against the Golden Horde.\n\n\"You are a mere boaster,\" said Vladimir carelessly. \"Why, you have\nnever yet handled a mace.\"\n\n\"If you do not give me the charger, uncle,\" said Yermak, \"I will set\nout on foot.\" The youth's quiet determination had more effect upon\nVladimir than weeks of persuasion, and he bade Yermak choose what\ncharger he desired from the royal stables as well as the armour which\nsuited him best from the armoury. Off went the youth in great glee\nand equal haste, but the chain mail which he found was so rusty that\nhe flung it down with impatience upon the brick floor, whereupon all\nthe rust flew from it; so he picked it up, selected weapons to his\ntaste, ran to the stables, saddled a horse, mounted it and rode at\ntopmost speed to the pavilion of the heroes.\n\nAnd what did he find in that hour of anxiety and the direst peril? Why,\nthe twelve heroes contentedly sitting playing at draughts upon\na board of gold and Ilya sound asleep upon a couch under a heavy\ncoverlet of sables. Then the anger of Yermak was very great indeed,\nand he shouted with all his might. \"Ho, there, you Old Coss\u00e1ck, Ilya\nof Murom. Yonder in Kiev city there is bread to eat and to spare,\nbut no one to defend the place against the Golden Horde.\"\n\nNow Ilya, from force of habit and long practice, slept always with\none ear open, and he knew also that it was a fatal mistake to lose his\ncalmness, especially when others about him had lost their own. So he\nturned slowly on his couch and said quietly, \"Climb up into the damp\noak, young Yermak, and make an effort to number the host which comes\nagainst us by counting the standards which are displayed.\" So Yermak\nclimbed up into the damp oak, and Ilya turning upon his other side\nwent to sleep once more. From his perch in the damp oak Yermak saw a\nvast host of the Golden Horde, and how at that moment the leaders were\nmarshalling their men in battle array; and he knew that the shaking\nof the bough on which he sat came from the trembling of moist Mother\nEarth at the tramp of their myriad feet. So great was the army that\nthe swift grey wolf could not trot round it in the space of a long\nspring day; the black raven could not fly about it in the longest\nday of summer; the grey bird could not wing its flight across it in\nthe longest light of autumn.\n\nNow Yermak had in him some of the qualities of a hero, for the size of\nthe host roused his courage to such a height that he felt impelled to\nadvance against it by himself, single and alone. So he leapt quickly\nfrom the damp oak, sprang upon his charger, and rode fiercely across\nthe open steppe against the vanguard of that great host. Meanwhile\nthe game of draughts went quietly on in the fair pavilion of white\nlinen, and Ilya slept. For three days and three nights this went on\nwhile Yermak hurled himself again and again against the forefront of\nthe Golden Horde. Then Ilya awoke and said to Nikitich:\n\n\"Mount into the damp oak, young man of supernatural wisdom. Perhaps\nyoung Yermak has fallen down from the branch for no longer do I see\nhim there.\"\n\nThen Nikitich climbed up into the tree-top and looked out upon the\nGolden Horde. He saw the vast host and he saw more than that--not the\nblack raven flying, nor the bright falcon soaring, but that heroic\nyouth galloping boldly against the heathen horde; and he made his\nreport to Ilya, who rose deliberately from his couch:\n\n\"Rise, ye draught players, and mount your good steeds. Then in the\nfirst place let one of you take grappling hooks and catch young Yermak\nby the shoulders. Say to him when he is stayed in his headlong flight,\n'Thou hast breakfasted to-day. Now let the heroes dine.'\"\n\nSo one of the company went out with strong grappling irons. Thrice he\ncaught Yermak by the shoulders and thrice did the young man break\naway, rending his chain mail in the action. Then the messenger\nreturned to report his failure and Nikitich made the attempt with\nas little success. So Ilya went himself. He sat on Cloudfall as the\ngrandfather of all the oaks stood upon the lap of moist Mother Earth,\nand caught Yermak by the shoulder with his heroic hand saying to him,\n\"Rest your heroic heart and let us labour now.\"\n\nThen Ilya rode against that mighty host as the swift eagle swoops\ndown upon the swans and geese or the falcon darts upon the wild duck;\nand at the place against which Yermak had beaten in vain he made a\nbreach in the line and began to hew a path through the host as the\nmower makes a way through the thick standing wheat. Then Cloudfall\naddressed him with the voice of a man:\n\n\"Ho, thou mighty hero of Holy Russia! with a heart of steel thou hast\nadvanced against this mighty host, but even your great might may\nnot overcome it, for that pestilent robber, Tsar Kalin, is served\nby many men of great renown and warrior-maids of heroic strength\nand feminine fierceness. Moreover, he is a wily leader, for he has\ndug three trenches across the open steppe and into these you will\nfall. I can lift you out of the first and likewise out of the second,\nbut out of the third I may not lift you though I should succeed in\nrising from it myself. For I watched them digging the trenches while\nyou were sleeping, and, indeed, I missed a great deal of the fine\nwheat while I served you in this manner.\"\n\nSuch a counsel of despair was not pleasing to the heroic Ilya,\nwho grasped his silken whip in his right hand and beat Cloudfall\nsoundly upon the flanks. \"Traitor and renegade,\" he cried in heroic\nanger, \"I feed thee on white wheat and give you water from crystal\nsprings and yet you will forsake me in the deep ditches of the open\nsteppe.\" And he paid no heed to the warning of the intelligent animal,\nbut rolling up the sleeve of his right arm advanced with unabated\nfury against the foe. In a few moments he came to the first trench,\ninto which he fell forthwith and from which Cloudfall bore him forth\nin safety. On he rode, fighting all the way, until he came to a second\nditch, and from that also he escaped in like manner. Then he advanced\nagain, fighting all the way, until he came to the third ditch from\nwhich Cloudfall leapt nimbly. But he left Ilya behind. Thereupon\nthe accursed Tatars leapt down into the trench and fell upon Ilya\nof Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck. They bound his swift feet and his strong\nwhite hands and led him to where Tsar Kalin sat in his pavilion of\nfair white linen embroidered with gold.\n\n\"Ah, ho! Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck,\" cried the pestilent leader\nof the Golden Horde. \"How could you hope, you old dog, to prevail\nagainst my mighty host?\" Then to his guards he said, \"Unfetter his\nswift feet and unbind his strong white hands.\" This was done at once,\nand then Tsar Kalin said in a voice of honey:\n\n\"Now sit down at my table, Ilya of Murom. Eat of my food and drink\nof my mead, put on an embroidered robe, and marry my daughter. Serve\nPrince Vladimir no longer but be vassal to me.\"\n\nThen Ilya's eyes flashed fire like the fire of Falcon the Hunter,\nwhose father he was. \"If I had by me my good sword,\" he said, \"thou\ndog, Kalin the Tsar, it should woo thy neck. I will do none of these\nthings, for my duty is to fight for the Christian temples which\nmy darts have protected even against my own son Falcon the Hunter,\nfor Prince Vladimir and Princess Apraxia and the city of Kiev.\"\n\nThen Ilya raised his eyes and listened and a voice sounded in his\nears, \"Lift up thy hands, Ilya.\" He raised them heavenward and into\nhis heroic arms came the strength of twenty heroes; and in that\nstrength he fell upon Tsar Kalin and laid his lifeless body upon\nthe floor of the fair pavilion. Snatching up the monarch's sword he\nran from the pavilion to turn it against his host, and company after\ncompany fell before him until his sword edge turned and the weapon\nwas useless. Then he flung it aside in impatience, and picking up\na Tatar by the ankles he used him as a club with which he cleared a\npath through the host of astonished warriors. \"It is a stout club,\nthis of mine,\" he cried grimly as he dealt blows to right and left;\n\"and it has a hard end to it with which to crack infidel pates.\"\n\nAt last he won his way to the edge of the host, where he flung his\nhuman club from him with a last great effort, and seizing the horn\nwhich hung at his side he sounded a mighty blast; for the heroic\nefforts he had made had dimmed the clearness of his eyes, so that he\ncould not distinguish either the white day or the black night. From\nfar away Cloudfall heard the sound of that familiar horn and in two\nheroic leaps was once more at his master's side. In a trice Ilya had\nmounted him and then he rode away to a lofty mountain upon the summit\nof which he stood and, raising his hand to his brow, gazed far away\nto the eastward. There he saw again the white pavilion of the heroes\nand the horses feeding on the fine wheat which was strewn for them. \"I\nwill send them a swift messenger,\" said Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\n\nAs he fitted a fiery dart to his stout bow, Ilya conjured it saying,\n\"Fly, little dart, to yonder pavilion. Tear through the roof and pierce\nthe white breast of my brother-in-arms, Samson, that glorious hero\nof Holy Russia, and make a small scratch--not a wound which you would\nbestow upon one of the Golden Horde,--for the hero Samson sleepeth and\ntaketh his ease while I stand here alone and have need of his help.\"\n\nThe shaft made a stream of blue light through the air, and reaching\nthe pavilion tore a flaming path through the roof, but too quickly\nfor the linen to catch fire, and made a small scratch upon the white\nbreast of Samson, rousing him from his heavy sleep. He opened his eyes,\ngazed upwards, and saw the rent in the roof of the pavilion. Then he\nwas aware of a slight discomfort on his breast, looked down, saw the\nscratch, and leapt lightly to his nimble feet.\n\n\"Ho, there,\" he cried aloud, \"ye mighty heroes of Holy Russia, saddle\nyour good steeds without delay and mount with speed. A message of\ndistress has come from my brother-in-arms, and had it not been for\nthe cross upon my breast it would have honoured me with a wound fit\nonly for one of the Golden Horde.\"\n\nRoused at last the heroes took their chargers from the scattered wheat,\nsaddled them and rode them towards Kiev town; and Ilya noting this\nfrom his point of vantage came down from the mountain to join his\ntwelve brethren, and in a long line of strength and swiftness the\nthirteen heroes rode against the Golden Horde.\n\nFor the space of five hours they mowed down young and old, and they\nleft at the end of that heroic period not so many as one single soul to\ncontinue the accursed race. Flushed with victory and self-confidence,\nthey came together in one place, and all except Ilya began to boast\nand to say, \"If there were steps raised up to Heaven we would climb\nthem and wage war against the sacred hosts.\"\n\nAs these impious words were spoken there happened a wonder of\nwonders. For the Tatars rose up from the field of the slain, and where\nthere had been one man there were now three, and they all stood up\nstrong and well upon their feet; and if Ilya had not accounted for\nTsar Kalin their advance upon Kiev town would have been sudden and\noverwhelming; but they turned hither and thither like the sands of\nthe desert, having no leader.\n\nNow as the heroes saw them rise, man after man, three in place of\none, they rubbed their eyes in wonder, and the impious words which\nthey had spoken dazzled their sense and confused their wits, so that\nthey turned their arms against each other and fought with the fury of\nsundered friends. But Ilya took no part in that unnatural fight. Sadly\nand dazedly he watched until the twelve lay dead upon the plain. Then\nhe slowly turned his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall and rode towards a\nmountain cave which no man has ever seen or shall see till the end\nof Holy Russia; and sitting in that cavern with his sword across his\nknees he slowly turned to stone. Cloudfall also became a lifeless\nstatue, and there the two heroic friends sit on, waiting, waiting,\nwaiting for the touch of life which will come when Holy Russia is in\ndirest need and calls aloud in distress for the courage and skill,\nthe patience and the fiery valour of Ilya of Murom the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWHIRLWIND THE WHISTLER,\nOR\nTHE KINGDOMS OF COPPER, SILVER, AND GOLD\n\n\nIn a certain kingdom in a certain land known to all of us lived the\nGreat White Tsar and his wife Golden Tress, who was so beautiful\nthat twice each day she caused the sun to blush a rosy red, once in\nthe morning as he rose across the steppe, and once in the evening\nas he bade farewell to the white world; but for the rest of the day\nhe asserted his kingship even over Golden Tress, and looked at her\nboldly and whenever he wished.\n\nNow the Great White Tsar and his Tsaritza, Golden Tress, had three\nsons, Peter, Vasily, and Ivan, and one great enemy, Whirlwind the\nWhistler, whom he feared greatly, because this impetuous foe had\nvowed with a shriek and a howl to come at sunset and whirl away Golden\nTress from the palace of the Little Father.\n\nOne evening Golden Tress went out with a company of maidens and nurses\nto walk in the gardens of the palace, and Whirlwind saw his chance. He\nrushed down upon the palace garden, blinding the eyes of all so that\nthey could not see what tricks he was playing; and when the maidens and\nnurses opened their eyes they saw nothing at all and heard nothing at\nall except a far-off call of distress and a shriek of spiteful fury;\nfor Whirlwind the Whistler had carried away Golden Tress to his den\namong the fastnesses of the mountains, while the trees bowed in fear\nbefore him as he took his way across the open steppe.\n\nThe Great White Tsar was now in deep distress, and knew not what to\ndo. Years went by and still he knew not what to do, but one day it\noccurred to him to ask the help of his sons, who were now grown into\nfine young men. \"My dear boys,\" he said, \"which of you will go and\nseek Golden Tress?\" \"We will go, and at once, father,\" said the two\nelder brothers, and without delay they set out upon their quest.\n\nWhen they had been gone for some time the youngest son, Ivan, said to\nhis father, \"Let me go also, my father, to seek Golden Tress.\" \"No,\"\nsaid the Tsar, \"for you are all I have in the white world.\" \"Do let me\ngo also,\" said Ivan, \"for I long to wander over the white world and\nseek my mother.\" The father did his best to persuade his boy to stay\nwith him, for he was now very lonely, but when he saw that Ivan could\nno longer rest at home he yielded to his entreaties, saying to him,\n\"Well, there is no help for it; go, and may the God of Holy Russia\nbe good to you.\"\n\nIvan without delay saddled his good steed, entered the audience chamber\nof his father, bowed to North, South, East, and West, and particularly\nto the Great White Tsar, mounted his horse and rode on and ever onward\nacross the steppe, whether it was long or short. By and by he came\nto a forest in the heart of which stood a lordly castle protected\nfrom the keen winds by a ring of encircling pines. Ivan rode into the\nbroad courtyard, where he met an old man and greeted him kindly with\nthe words, \"Many years and years of health to you.\" \"Who are you,\ngoodly youth?\" asked the old man, and Ivan said quietly and proudly,\n\"I am Ivan Tsarevich, son of the Great White Tsar and his Tsaritza,\nGolden Tress.\" \"Oh, my very, very own nephew,\" said the old man;\n\"and whither is God leading you?\"\n\n\"I am in search of my mother, Golden Tress,\" said Ivan. \"Can you tell\nme, uncle, where she may be found?\"\n\n\"No, nephew, I cannot,\" returned the old man, \"and that to my sorrow\nand discomfiture. But what I am able to do I will do willingly. Here\nis a ball. Throw it before you as you ride. It will roll onward and\nlead you to a range of steep rugged mountains. In the side of this\nrange of mountains you will find a cave which you must enter, and\nhaving entered you will find within a pair of iron claws.\"\n\n\"Take these iron claws,\" the old man went on, \"and place them upon\nyour hands and your feet. This will enable you to climb up the steep\nface of the mountain, and having done so, perhaps you will find there\nyour mother, Golden Tress.\"\n\nThis was good advice so far as Ivan was able to judge, so he took\nthe ball in his hand, thanked his uncle courteously, and, starting\nhis horse on the path which led through the pine forest, threw the\nball before him. Onward and ever onward it rolled, but it seemed\nsomething more than a mere ball, for occasionally it came to a parting\nof the ways and then appeared to pause for a moment and consider. Then\nonward and ever onward it rolled, while Ivan rode behind it until he\ncame out at last upon an open plain where a great horde was encamped;\nand in the midst of the horde stood a fair pavilion of white linen\nembroidered with gold. The ball made a path through the ranks of the\nmen-at-arms, who stood nimbly aside to let it pass, until it rested,\nbut impatiently rested, by the opening of the pavilion, near which\ntwo stout chargers were feeding on wheat of the finest which was\nscattered thickly for their sustenance and comfort.\n\nThen two leaders came forth shoulder to shoulder and hand to hand from\nthat fair pavilion, and Ivan saw that they were his two elder brothers.\n\n\"Where are you going, Ivan, son of the Great White Tsar?\" they asked,\nand the young man answered, \"I grew weary at home and thought of\ngoing to seek my mother, Golden Tress. Send these men of yours to\ntheir homes and let us go together.\"\n\nThe two brothers assented, and in a short space of time the great army\nwas disbanded, and the two brothers sat across their chargers ready to\ngo forward after the ball which was bouncing in great impatience. As\nsoon as the three put spurs to their horses it rolled on again and went\nonward and ever onward until it came to a cave in a steep mountain. At\nthe opening of this cave Ivan slipped down from his horse and said\nto his brothers, \"Take care of my horse while I go on up the face of\nthis mountain, where perhaps I shall find my mother. Remain here and\nwait for me for the space of just three months. If I do not come back\nwithin that time then you may conclude that it is of no use waiting\nfor me any longer.\"\n\nThe brothers looked up the face of the steep mountain and thought\nin their hearts, \"How can a man climb that mountain-side? He will\nmerely fall and crack his skull.\" But they did not give utterance to\ntheir thoughts. They merely said, \"Well, brother, go, and God be with\nyou. We will wait for you here.\"\n\nIvan now stepped forward to the cave, after giving his charger an\naffectionate pat upon its glossy neck, and saw that it was closed\nwith a door of iron. He raised his hand and struck a hearty blow upon\nthe door, which opened, and he went in. As he stood in the middle of\nthe dark earthen floor, iron claws came upon his hands and feet of\nthemselves, and, coming forth from the place into the light of day, he\nbegan to climb up the steep face of the mountain--climb, climb, climb.\n\nFor a whole month he toiled upward, resting at night beneath some\nfriendly bush, and at the end of the month reached the summit with\na sigh of relief. \"Well,\" he said, \"well, well, glory be to God!\"\n\nFor a little while he rested, and then walked onward on the summit of\nthe mountain--walked and walked, walked and walked, until he came to\na castle of copper. At the gateway sat terrible wriggling serpents\nfastened with copper chains, crowds of them writhing in a mass upon\nthe earth; and not far away was a well, at the mouth of which was\na copper bucket fastened with a copper chain. Now Ivan watched the\nwrithing serpents for a moment, and then, obeying an impulse of\nkindliness, he drew water in the copper bucket and gave to them to\ndrink. When they had quenched their thirst they lay down in quiet,\nand Ivan was able to enter the castle unmolested.\n\nAt the doorway and just over the threshold the young man was met\nby a Tsaritza who was clothed in a cloth of a coppery red, warm and\nbrilliant, and whose hair was of a deep auburn tinged with light and\nshining with the early gloss of youthfulness. She looked coolly at\nIvan as if she thought little of him, but her greeting was courteous\nenough. \"Who are you, gallant youth?\" she asked, and the young man\nreplied simply:\n\n\"I am Ivan, youngest son of the Great White Tsar.\"\n\n\"How did you come here?\" asked the Copper Tsaritza, \"with your own\nwill or against your will?\"\n\n\"With my own will,\" said Ivan. \"I am in search of my mother. For,\nwhile she walked in the green palace garden, Whirlwind the Whistler\ncame with a shriek and bore her away to an unknown land. Can you tell\nme where I may find her?\"\n\n\"No, I cannot,\" was the reply, \"but far away from here lives my\nsecond sister the Silver Tsaritza--perhaps she will be able to tell\nyou where you may find Golden Tress. But I pray you, good youth,\nwhen you have killed Whirlwind the Whistler, do not forget me, poor\nunfortunate, but rescue me from this place and take me out into the\nfree white world. Whirlwind the Whistler holds me here as a captive and\ncomes to visit me once in three months to torment me with his doleful\nwhining.\" Then she gave the good youth a copper ball and a copper ring\nas a token. \"This ball,\" she said, \"will lead you to my second sister,\nand within this ring lies the whole of the Kingdom of Copper.\"\n\nThen Ivan set the copper ball rolling and followed it until he came to\na castle all of silver and finer than the first. At the gateway were\nterrible writhing serpents fastened with silver chains, and near them\nwas a well with a silver bucket. Remembering the previous reward for\nhis impulse of kindliness, Ivan drew water and gave it to the serpents\nto drink. When they had quenched their thirst they lay down in quiet,\nand Ivan was able to enter the castle unmolested.\n\nAt the doorway, and just over the threshold, he was met by a\nTsaritza, who was clothed in cloth of silver and whose hair was of\nfine white silver, which yet did not take away from the beauty of\nher youthfulness. At first she did not see Ivan, and she spoke to\nherself. \"It will soon be three years,\" she said, \"since Whirlwind the\nWhistler first imprisoned me in this silver castle, and during that\ntime I have not seen or spoken with a dweller in Holy Russia. But by\nmy lost Kingdom I see a Russian now and a goodly one.\" Then she bent\nher beautiful eyes upon Ivan and said in a voice like a silver bell,\n\"Who are you, good youth?\"\n\n\"I am Ivan, youngest son of the Great White Tsar,\" was the simple\nanswer.\n\n\"How did you come here?\" asked the Silver Tsaritza, \"with your own\nwill or against your will?\"\n\n\"With my own will,\" said Ivan. \"I am in search of my mother. For,\nwhile she walked in the green palace garden, Whirlwind the Whistler\ncame with a shriek and bore her away to an unknown land. Can you tell\nme where I may find her?\"\n\n\"No, I cannot,\" was the reply, \"but not far away from here lives my\neldest sister the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Lovely--perhaps she will\nbe able to tell you where you may find Golden Tress. But I pray you,\ngood youth, when you have killed Whirlwind the Whistler, do not forget\nme, poor unfortunate, but rescue me from this place and take me out\ninto the free white world. Whirlwind the Whistler holds me here as a\ncaptive, and comes once in two months to torment me with his hideous\nvoice.\" Then she gave the good youth a silver ball and a silver ring\nas a token and said to him, \"Within this little circle lies the whole\nof the Kingdom of Silver.\"\n\nOnce more Ivan set the ball rolling, and wherever it went, there he\nfollowed it, and he came at last across many leagues of open country\nto a castle of gold. At the gateway sat terrible wriggling serpents\nfastened with golden chains, crowds of them writhing in a mass upon the\nearth; and not far away was a well at the mouth of which was a golden\nbucket fastened with a golden chain. Again Ivan watched the writhing\nserpents for a moment and then drew water in the golden bucket and\ngave to them to drink. When they had quenched their thirst they lay\ndown in quiet, and Ivan was able to enter the castle unmolested.\n\nAt the doorway, and just over the threshold, he was met by a Tsaritza,\nwho was clothed in cloth of gold and whose hair was of fine red gold\nglowing with the fire of youthfulness. At once she saw Ivan and said\nto him:\n\n\"Who are you, good youth?\"\n\n\"I am Ivan, youngest son of the Great White Tsar,\" was the simple\nanswer.\n\n\"How did you come here?\" asked the Golden Tsaritza, \"with your own\nwill, or against your will?\"\n\n\"With my own will,\" said Ivan. \"I am in search of my mother. For,\nwhile she walked in the green palace garden, Whirlwind the Whistler\ncame with a shriek and bore her away to an unknown land. Can you tell\nme where I may find her?\"\n\n\"I can indeed tell you,\" said the Golden Tsaritza. \"She lives not\nfar from here. Whirlwind the Whistler flies to her once a week and\nto me once a month, and he wearies both of us with his shrieks and\nhis moans. Here is a golden ball for you. Throw it before you and\nfollow it. It will lead you to your mother.\" Then she gave the good\nyouth a golden ring as a token and said to him: \"Within this little\ncircle lies the whole of the Kingdom of Gold. I pray you, good youth,\nwhen you have conquered Whirlwind the Whistler, do not forget me,\npoor unfortunate, but rescue me from this place and take me out into\nthe free white world.\"\n\n\"I will take you,\" promised Ivan. Then he rolled the golden ball before\nhim and wherever it went, there he followed it, until he came at last\nto such a palace as he could scarcely bear to look upon, it blazed so\nbrightly with diamonds and precious stones. At the gateway six-headed\nserpents were hissing, but when Ivan had given them water from a well\nwith a diamond bucket, fastened with a chain of fine seed pearls,\nthey sank down in quiet and allowed him to pass into the castle. He\nwalked quickly through one lofty chamber after another and in the\nlast chamber he found his mother.\n\nShe was sitting on a great throne of a single emerald clad in the\nfestal robes of a Tsaritza, and crowned with a dazzling crown,\nbeneath which her golden tresses flowed downward over the emerald\nsteps. Raising her sad clear eyes, she looked at the stranger, and\nas she looked the mist of memory cleared, a smile played about her\nbeautiful ruddy lips, and she said eagerly, holding her hands forward,\n\"Ah, is it you, my dear, dear son? How have you found out the place\nof my concealment?\"\n\n\"That is so and so and by the way and matterless,\" said Ivan. \"Suffice\nit to say that I have come to fetch you home.\"\n\n\"But, my dear, dear son,\" said Golden Tress, \"that will be indeed\na hard matter for you. In these mountains the king of all is mighty\nWhirlwind, whom all the spirits of the air obey. It was he who bore\nme away, and it is against him that you must fight. Come quickly to\nthe cellar.\"\n\nGolden Tress stepped with the step of youthfulness down from the\nemerald throne, and taking her son by the hand led him down a dark\nstairway into the cellar beneath the palace.\n\nNow in the cellar there were two tubs of water, one on the right hand\nand the other on the left. Golden Tress led Ivan forward and said to\nhim, \"Drink from the tub on your right hand.\" Ivan drank and drank\ndeeply while his beautiful mother watched him closely, and when he\nwas finished she asked, \"Well, what strength is in thee?\" \"I am so\nstrong,\" said the youth, \"that I could turn over the whole castle\nwith one hand.\"\n\n\"Drink again,\" said Golden Tress, very quietly. Ivan drank again and\ndrank deeply.\n\n\"What strength is in thee now?\" asked his mother.\n\n\"I am so strong,\" said he, \"that, if I wished, I could turn the whole\nworld over.\"\n\n\"That is very great strength,\" said Golden Tress. \"Now move these tubs\nof water so as to make them change positions. Place the right-hand\ntub on the left and the left-hand tub on the right.\" Ivan did so with\nperfect ease.\n\n\"Now,\" said Golden Tress, \"let me tell you why I asked you to do\nthis. In one of these tubs is water of strength, but in the other,\nwater of weakness. Whirlwind always drinks the water of strength,\nand puts it on the right side, so we must mislead him or you will\nnever be able to overcome him.\" Thereupon they made their way up the\nwinding stairway to the apartment of Golden Tress, in which stood\nthe shining throne made from a single emerald.\n\nGolden Tress sat down upon this throne and composed herself,\nas if she were expecting a visitor. \"In a short time,\" she said,\n\"Whirlwind will fly home. Come and hide beneath my purple robe so\nthat he may not be able to see you, and when he enters and runs to\ntry to embrace me reach out your hand, which is now a hand of heroic\nstrength, and seize his club. He will rise high and ever higher,\nbut do not therefore release your hold upon his club. He will fly\nout of the window in the roof, and will carry you over seas and\nover precipices, but do not in dizziness release your hold upon his\nclub. After a while Whirlwind will grow weak and will return to this\npalace and go down to the cellar, but do not release your hold upon\nhis club. He will drink of the water in the tub on the right hand,\nbut see that you drink meanwhile of the water in the other tub.\n\n\"When he has drunk well, he will grow weak, and then you must take his\nsharp sword from his girdle and hew off his head with it. As soon as\nhis head falls to the ground you will hear voices behind you crying,\n'Strike again, strike again.' But these will be the voices of tempters,\nand your answer to them must be, 'A hero's hand strikes once to kill,\nbut never once to maim.'\"\n\nIvan had scarcely disposed himself under the flowing purple robe\nwhich swept down upon the green and translucent base of the throne\nof Golden Tress, when suddenly the room grew dark and everything\nwithin it trembled and creaked. Whirlwind flew to his castle, and\nno one saw his form until he struck the courtyard stones. Then he\nbecame a goodly young man with a changeful restless face, and strode\nquickly into the castle carrying his club with a flourish, until he\ncame before the emerald throne.\n\n\"Tfu, Tfu, Tfu,\" he said, sniffing disgustedly. \"There is an odour\nof Russia here. Have you had visitors?\"\n\n\"I cannot tell why you should think so,\" said Golden Tress. Then\nWhirlwind came forward and held out his arms to embrace the mother\nof Ivan, but with a quick movement the heroic youth stretched out his\nhand and seized his club. \"I'll eat you,\" cried Whirlwind in a passion\nof anger, and Ivan replied, \"Well, either you will or you won't.\"\n\nWith a piercing shriek Whirlwind turned and mounted quickly upward. He\npassed with a howl through the open window in the roof, and then\nhis form was changed, but what it was now no one knew or was able to\ndescribe, for as often as any one opened eyes to look at him he filled\nthem with dust and water; if any one sniffed him he made them sneeze;\nif any one tried to lay hands upon him he buffeted them in the chest\nand turned them about like weather vanes, all the while crying out,\n\"What is my shape?\" Only pigs could see him and knew of what shape\nhe was and they had no powers of description.\n\nIt was well for Ivan that in this furious flight he kept a firm hold on\nWhirlwind's club, for as he rushed on over the world he kept shrieking,\n\"I will smash you! I will lay you low! I will drown you!\" But as\nhis club was firmly held he was powerless to give a knock-down blow,\nand presently, wearied out with his own fury, he grew weak and began\nto sink. Then he turned homeward, and alighted gently and wearily\nupon the stones of the courtyard, where he became a young man with a\nrestless peevish face, listlessly bearing his club, which would have\ntrailed upon the ground if the heroic hand of Ivan had not upheld\nit. He made what speed he could to the cellar, and at once took a\ndeep draught of the water of weakness, while Ivan, dropping the club,\nran to the water of strength, of which he drank long and contentedly,\nand so became the first mighty hero in the whole white world.\n\nSeeing that Whirlwind had now become weak to extremity he took his\nsharp sword from his girdle and cut off his head with it. Then from\nbehind him he heard voices crying, \"Strike again, strike again, or\nhe will come to life.\" \"No,\" cried Ivan in a heroic voice which in\nspite of himself seemed to echo throughout the world. \"A hero's hand\nstrikes once to kill, but never once to maim.\" Then without loss of\ntime he made a fire, burned the body of Whirlwind as well as the head,\nand scattered his ashes from the ramparts of the castle to North,\nSouth, East, and West.\n\nThen Golden Tress was glad and embraced her son. \"Now let us eat,\"\nshe said, \"and then go home together. It is very wearisome here--for of\nwhat use is a throne of a single emerald if there are no people? What\nare fine couches and sideboards and flagons and furniture if there\nis no love?\"\n\n\"Are there not even servants to wait upon you?\" asked Ivan. \"How are\nyou served?\"\n\n\"You will see in a moment,\" was the reply. \"Think of dinner.\" So\nIvan thought of the nicest dinner he could imagine--thick soup,\nwhite fish with pink sharp sauce, meat, potatoes and spinach with\nrich brown gravy, iced pudding and apples and nuts for dessert--and\nbefore he could have written out the list all these things were upon\nthe sideboard where they kept hot until they were needed, all of\ncourse except the pudding which stayed outside upon the window-sill\nto keep cool.\n\nBut with all this there was no sound, not even the cheerful clatter\nof plates or the chink of a jug upon a tumbler, for the plates came\nfloating singly through the air and settled down quietly before\nthe diners, while the wine rose from the bottom of the glasses as\nyou have seen it do at the conjuror's. Ivan and his mother ate in\nsilence, and the young man was surprised to find the meal somewhat\ndisappointing. His lovely mother watched him closely with a wise\nsmile upon her face. \"When we get home,\" she promised herself, \"he\nshall have hot cakes fresh from the oven with plenty of butter and--I\nshall make them myself.\" Then she laughed inwardly and sniffed gently\nthrough her delicate nostrils as if she smelt the kitchen smell of\nnewly made bread and cakes, and that is better even than a throne of\na single emerald or a couch with a cover of sable skins lined with\nsoftest silk from Samarcand.\n\nWhen mother and son had rested for a while and talked of many things,\nGolden Tress enquiring particularly how the stoves were drawing in\nthe palace of the Great White Tsar, the young man said, \"Mother,\nlet us go home now, for it is time, and besides, under the mountains\nmy brothers are waiting for me. And on the way I must rescue three\nTsaritzas who are living in the castles of Whirlwind the Whistler.\"\n\nIn a short time mother and son were ready for the journey, and though\nthe castle was full of untold treasure they carried away with them\nnot even a diamond of the size of a pin point. But they carried as\nmany linen sheets as they could bear, not for vanity of housewifery\nbut for a useful purpose. After a long journey they came to the Golden\nTsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, and led her forth, asking her to carry\nwith her as many linen sheets as she could comfortably bear. In a\nsimilar manner they led forth the Silver Tsaritza and the Copper\nTsaritza, and these also brought linen sheets for the device which\nIvan had designed.\n\nWhen they came to the top of the precipice they tore the sheets into\nbroad strips, knotted them together, and made a long linen rope of\nthem; and by means of this stout rope, one end of which they fastened\nto the trunk of a lofty pine which had seen the dawn of history, they\nlet themselves down to the plain below, first the Copper Tsaritza, then\nthe Silver Tsaritza, then the Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful,\nand last of all Golden Tress, the Tsaritza of the Great White Tsar.\n\nNow the two elder brothers of Ivan were standing below, waiting and\nwatching, and when they saw the lovely ladies step daintily one after\nthe other upon the earth they said to each other:\n\n\"Let us leave Ivan up there and let us take the three lovely maidens\nand our mother to our father, and tell him that we rescued them from\nWhirlwind the Whistler.\"\n\n\"Right and just,\" said Peter quickly, \"I will take the Golden Tsaritza,\nElena the Beautiful, for myself, and you, Vasily, take the Silver\nTsaritza for yourself, and we will give the Copper Tsaritza to some\ngeneral.\"\n\nMeanwhile Golden Tress was looking steadily up the face of the\nprecipice, waiting impatiently for Ivan to come down by the ladder of\nlinen. But the two brothers ran forward, seized the linen, pulled it\nand tore it away. And when Ivan heard it snap near the trunk of the\ngreat pine, he sat down and in spite of his strength and manliness\nwept so sorely, and for such a long time, that his tears made a\ncascade down the face of the precipice, where the ladder of linen\nhad wavered in the breeze.\n\nThen he arose somewhat refreshed and relieved, and turning back\nwalked aimlessly through the Copper Kingdom, the Silver Kingdom, and\nthe Golden Kingdom, but he met no living person. Then he came to the\nDiamond Kingdom, but even here he met no living person. He was now\nweary almost to death, and in the midst of wealth untold yearned for\nthe sound of a human voice. In the Diamond Palace, from which he had\nrescued his mother, he wandered disconsolate not knowing what to do\nwhen, all at once, he saw a whistle lying on the window ledge. He took\nit up, and, being a good musician, began to play a tune, but as soon\nas he had sounded only one note Lame and Crooked stood before him,\nwho seemed to be bowing all the time.\n\n\"What is your pleasure?\" he asked.\n\n\"Get a bed ready,\" said Ivan, and as soon as the words were spoken\nthe bed stood near him with the pillows smoothed and the quilt turned\ndown a little, so as to show the sheets of the finest linen. Ivan\ncrept into the bed, in which he found a warming pan, settled down\ncosily and was soon in a deep sleep. After a time, the exact length of\nwhich does not matter, he awoke refreshed and whistled again. Before\nhe could say Elena, Lame and Crooked stood before him.\n\n\"What is your pleasure?\" he asked.\n\n\"Can everything be done, then?\" asked Ivan.\n\n\"Everything is possible,\" was the reply. \"Whoever blows that whistle\nhas everything done for him. As we served Whirlwind the Whistler\nbefore, so now we are glad to serve the man who conquered him by\nbracing himself with draughts of the water which comes from the\nstinging East. It is only necessary to keep the whistle by you at\nall times.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Ivan, \"let me be in my own city this very moment.\"\n\nHe had no sooner spoken than he found himself in his own city, and\nstanding in the middle of the market square. As he stood looking\naround him a jolly old shoemaker came up and Ivan said to him,\n\"Where are you going, my good man?\"\n\n\"I am going to sell my shoes,\" was the reply, \"for I am a shoemaker.\"\n\n\"Take me into your employment,\" said the son of the Great White Tsar.\n\n\"But do you know how to make shoes?\" was the cautious enquiry.\n\n\"Oh yes,\" said Ivan, with such confidence that the man could do\nnothing but believe him.\n\n\"I have the means of doing everything--not only making shoes but\nclothes as well.\"\n\n\"Come along, then,\" said the jolly shoemaker, and they went to his\nhouse. As soon as they had entered, the man took Ivan to the workshop\nand pointing to a seat near a bench he said: \"Sit down there and get\nto work. I will go out to sell my wares, and when I return to-morrow\nI shall be able to judge exactly of your skill.\"\n\nAs soon as the man was gone Ivan took out his whistle and summoned\nLame and Crooked.\n\n\"What is your pleasure?\" asked he.\n\n\"To have shoes ready by to-morrow.\"\n\nLame and Crooked smiled a smile which seemed to wander round the\nroom. \"That is not work,\" he said, \"but recreation.\"\n\n\"Here is the leather,\" said Ivan, and Lame and Crooked looked at it\nwith a curving upper lip. \"That is poor stuff,\" he said, \"and the\nproper place for it is out of the window.\" Then he jumped out very\nnimbly after it and Ivan saw him no more; but when the young man\nawoke next morning he saw on the table beside his bed several pairs\nof shoes of the very best. He had scarcely dressed himself when the\njolly old shoemaker came into his room and said, \"Well, young man,\nare the shoes ready?\"\n\n\"They are ready for sale,\" said Ivan quietly, pointing to the shoes on\nthe table beside his bed. The shoemaker inspected them very closely,\nand his eyes opened wide in wonder. \"Why, young man,\" he said, with\na jolly smile, \"you are not a shoemaker but a magician. I must go at\nonce to the market and turn these fine shoes into good red gold.\"\n\nOff he went to the market, and while he waited for customers to\narrive he heard all the gossip of the city, which was greatly\nmoved to curiosity over three forthcoming weddings at the palace\nof the Great White Tsar. He heard that Prince Peter was to marry\nthe Golden Tsaritza, Elena the Beautiful, that Prince Vasily was\nto marry the Silver Tsaritza, and that the Copper Tsaritza was to\nmarry a general. Dresses were being made for the wedding, said the\ngood dames of the market-place, such as had never yet been designed\nor embroidered within the memory of the oldest in Holy Russia. Then\ncame a royal messenger seeking shoes for Elena the Beautiful, and\nafter searching the whole market he came to the stall of the jolly\nold shoemaker and easily concluded that his wares were finer and more\ndelicate than any others; so he told the man to pack up his entire\nstock and come with him to the apartments of the Golden Tsaritza,\nElena the Beautiful, in the palace of the Great White Tsar.\n\nThe Golden Tsaritza was seated among her maidens, who were so busy\nand excited and trembling that they sewed many of the lovely garments\nquite wrong; and as the shoemaker entered the room the Lady-of-Honour,\nwho bore the high title of Golden Scissors, was scolding a pretty\nyoung dressmaker for putting the right sleeve in the place of the\nleft. As for Elena the Beautiful herself, she sat looking straight\nbefore her with the expression on her face of a person who is obliged\nto do one thing but would rather do something else.\n\nWhen she saw the shoes spread out on a table before her she looked\nat them in a listless manner; then, all at once, her beautiful eyes\nmoistened and brightened, and she said to the shoemaker who stood\nnear with his cap of rough fur in his hand, \"What is the meaning of\nthis? They make shoes of this pattern only in the mountains.\" At\nonce an idea for gaining time came into her mind, and turning to\nthe somewhat bewildered shoemaker, whose jolly face was clouded\nand anxious owing to his good fortune, she said to him in a voice\nwhich sounded hard and cold like the ring of steel upon an anvil,\n\"Make me, without measure, another pair of shoes cunningly sewn, set\nwith precious stones and glittering with diamonds. They must be ready\nfor to-morrow, otherwise my servants will hale you to the gallows.\"\n\nThe shoemaker was then taken to the Tsar's treasury, where he chose\nthe precious stones required, and was given money to buy leather of\nthe richest and softest kind that could be obtained. He had received\nthe most exalted order he had ever been honoured with, and might have\nput upon his signboard, \"Shoemaker by Royal Appointment to the Golden\nTsaritza,\" but still he was far from happy--in fact he was utterly\nmiserable. \"By Svyatogor, Ilya, and Vladimir and all the heroes,\" he\nsaid, \"but greatness means great worry. Whatever shall I do? How can\nI make shoes by to-morrow when I am not allowed to measure the exalted\nfoot of the beautiful Tsaritza? I shall make nothing by to-morrow but\nan end to my life, for it is very clear that I shall make acquaintance\nwith the gallows--say about ten o'clock. However, seeing that it\ncannot be helped, let me have a last jollification with my companions.\"\n\nOff he went to the inn where he had more friends than was good for\nhim, and when they saw his face so gloomy which was usually so jolly\nand generous they eagerly asked him the cause of his trouble.\n\n\"Oh, my dear friends,\" he said, \"I have been honoured with a Court\norder and as a consequence they are going to hang me to-morrow, and\nonly the lucky man who succeeds to my business will reap the benefit\nof being able to call himself 'Shoemaker by Royal Appointment to the\nGolden Tsaritza.'\"\n\n\"Why so?\" asked his companions, who were so thirsty that they thought\nthe shoemaker might have made a much shorter speech. Then the man\ntold his trouble as shortly as possible, concluding with the words,\n\"What think you, friends, of an order like that? I may as well enjoy\nmyself with you for the last time, for they will surely come for me\nto-morrow morning--say about ten o'clock.\"\n\nSo they drank and drank and sang and joked and danced and then drank\nagain, by which time the shoemaker was by no means steady upon his\nlegs. \"Well,\" he said, as the town clock struck twelve, \"I will take\nhome a keg of spirits and lie down to sleep, and to-morrow when they\ncome to take me to the gallows I will drink a gallon and a half at\none draught, and if they hang me drunk I may be able to look and feel\njolly until the last.\"\n\nThen he staggered home with the keg under his arm. He had scarcely\npassed the threshold when he saw Ivan and began at once to upbraid\nhim. \"You abandoned rascal,\" he cried, \"see what your fine shoes\nhave done for me.\" Then he told him as much of the story as he could\nremember, and staggered off to bed saying, \"When they come for me in\nthe morning, wake me up.\"\n\nAs soon as all was quiet Ivan took out his whistle and blew, whereupon\nLame and Crooked appeared as before.\n\n\"What is your pleasure?\" he asked, and the young Prince told him what\nwas required.\n\n\"We obey!\" said Lame and Crooked, who did not even ask for the precious\nstones from the Tsar's treasury which the shoemaker had used to wipe\nout his score at the inn.\n\nIvan lay down to sleep, and when he awoke next morning he thought that\nthe sun had risen two hours too soon for his room was filled with fiery\ngolden light. But it was only the brilliance of the precious stones\nset in the dainty shoes on the table by his bedside. He jumped up,\ndressed himself in the light of the shining gems which shone not by\nreflected radiance, but from the depth of their glowing hearts. Then\nhe picked up the dainty shoes, kissed them lightly, and took them to\nhis master whom he roused with a shake.\n\n\"It is time to rise,\" he said in the man's ear.\n\n\"What!\" cried the shoemaker, sitting bolt upright with a tremendous\nstart. \"Have they come for me? Bring me the keg quickly and draw the\nblind to keep out the light, which shines too cheerfully for a poor\nfellow who is to be hanged about ten o'clock. Here is a cup. Pour\nthe spirits in. They shall hang me drunk.\"\n\n\"But the shoes are made,\" said Ivan quietly, looking at the man with\namusement almost conquered by disgust.\n\n\"Made? How made? Who made them? Where are they? Can't you draw the\nblind and keep out that silly light?\"\n\nIvan drew the blind but the light was not thereby diminished, and now\nthe bewildered shoemaker saw that the radiance came from the precious\nstones in the shoes which Ivan held in his hand.\n\nThe man rubbed his eyes in a dazed manner and then said, \"They are made\nsure enough and look small enough even for Elena the Beautiful. When\ndid we make them?\"\n\n\"They were made in the night,\" said Ivan quietly, \"but it is possible\nthat you do not remember. Do you really find yourself unable to\nrecall having cut and sewed them. Do try to remember--think it over\nvery hard.\"\n\n\"Oh, brother,\" said the bewildered shoemaker, \"it must have been\nworking over these brilliant gems that has dazed my wits. I barely\nremember, but only very barely. But I must make haste to carry them\nto Elena the Beautiful. Thank goodness we have been able to execute\nher exalted order.\"\n\n\"And that you have been saved from occupying a still more exalted\nposition,\" said Ivan, who being a prince had a great sense of humour.\n\n\"Yes, indeed,\" said the shoemaker as he left the house at great\nspeed. Before Ivan could say Elena, which, by the way, he was\ncontinually saying to himself, the jolly shoemaker was standing in\nthe apartment of the Golden Tsaritza where the preparations for the\nwedding seemed to be as busy as ever.\n\nElena the Beautiful looked at the shoes, and something to which she\ndared not give a name told her heart what had taken place. \"Surely,\"\nshe said to herself, very very softly, \"the good Spirits made these\nfor Ivan.\" Then aloud she said to the grinning shoemaker, \"How did\nyou make these?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the man, \"I am able to do everything.\"\n\nThe reply of the Tsaritza came quickly upon this boast. \"If you can do\neverything, make me a wedding robe embroidered with gold and ornamented\nwith diamonds and precious stones, which will fit my body as exactly\nas these shoes fit my feet. Let it be ready by to-morrow morning,\nfor, if it is not, off goes your head.\"\n\nThe face of the shoemaker fell, and he went out into the street and\nwalked a long, long way thinking very hard. \"Well, well,\" he said at\nlast, \"it is of no use mourning. To-day will be my last day, that is\nquite certain, and I may as well spend it in jollification. For though\na shoemaker may by great industry make a wonderful pair of shoes,\nhe cannot make a wonderful wedding robe for a beautiful Tsaritza\nwithout measurements, to say nothing of trying on.\" Then he went off\nto the inn, where he found his companions, who seemed to live there.\n\n\"Well, what is wrong now?\" they asked him as soon as they saw his\ngloomy face.\n\n\"Nothing but contradiction,\" he said. \"My high-born patron has now made\nme Court Dressmaker and has ordered me to make her a wedding-robe\nembroidered with gold and ornamented with diamonds and precious\nstones, which will fit her body as exactly as my shoes fit her feet,\nand the whole contraption is to be ready by to-morrow morning, for,\nif it is not, off goes my head.\"\n\n\"Ah, brother,\" said the loafers, \"it is clearly impossible that you\nshould execute the order, and as we suppose you have the stones on\nyour person we may as well go and frolic for to-day.\"\n\nThe face of the shoemaker fell still lower, for in his consternation\nhe had forgotten to ask for the jewels from the royal treasury. But\nhe had in his pocket the large price paid for the shoes, and, as his\nprevious score was paid, the inn-keeper allowed the topers to have\na good supply of spirits. Once more they caroused and once more the\nshoemaker-dressmaker took a keg of spirits home with him and told Ivan\nall his tale, concluding with the words, \"Wake me in the morning. I'm\noff to bed.\" In a few minutes he was sound asleep.\n\nIvan at once blew the whistle, and Lame and Crooked appeared before\nhim.\n\n\"What is your pleasure?\"\n\n\"Make me a robe which will fit Elena the Beautiful to perfection. Let\nit be embroidered with gold and ornamented with diamonds and precious\nstones, and deliver it here before dawn.\"\n\n\"We obey,\" said Lame and Crooked. \"The wedding robe shall be ready.\"\n\nIvan slept and woke before dawn. He knew at once that the light in\nhis chamber came from the shining gems on the bodice of the beautiful\nrobe which lay across a chair by his bedside. He jumped up, dressed\nhimself quickly, and taking up the dress kissed the corsage where\nthe heart of Elena would beat, and carried the wonderful garment to\nthe chamber of his snoring master.\n\nThe light from the gems roused the man, who groaned, sat up slowly,\nand rubbed his eyes. \"What!\" he cried in a trembling voice, \"is it\nbroad day already, and have they come to cut off my head? Give me\nthat keg of spirits and a can. I will drink three gallons at a draught\nand then I shall be so full of courage that I shall not feel the axe.\"\n\n\"But the robe is ready,\" said Ivan very quietly.\n\n\"What?\" roared the Court Shoemaker-Dressmaker. \"When did we make it?\"\n\n\"It was made in the night, of course, and it is not the first time\nthat a Court Dressmaker has had to work until the small hours. Do\nyou not remember cutting the cloth?\"\n\n\"Ah, brother,\" said the man who was now weeping like a crocodile for\nsheer relief, \"it must have been the sheen of the gold embroidery\nthat dazzled my wits. I barely remember, but only very barely. But\nI must make haste to carry this robe to Elena the Beautiful. Thank\ngoodness I have been able to rise to the occasion once more.\"\n\n\"Yes, thank goodness,\" said Ivan, \"but it is to be hoped that you\nwill not be honoured with any more Court appointments.\" His employer,\nhowever, did not hear this last remark, for by the time that Ivan\nhad finished speaking he was standing in the apartment of Elena the\nBeautiful, where the preparations seemed to be as busy as ever.\n\nThe Golden Tsaritza looked at the robe and something to which she\ndared not give a name told her heart what had taken place. \"Surely,\"\nshe said to herself, \"the good Spirits made this robe for Ivan.\" Then\naloud she said to the prinking shoemaker, \"How did you make this?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said the unlucky man, \"I can make anything.\"\n\nThe reply of the Tsaritza came like a flash of lightning. \"See that\nat to-morrow's dawn,\" she said, \"the Kingdom of Gold be on the sea,\nseven miles from shore, and across the blue waters stretching from\nthat Kingdom to our palace let there be a bridge of gold with costly\ncrimson velvet laid upon it and set at each side with wonderful trees\nto form an avenue full of love-birds singing sweetest songs of dawn\nwith varied voices. If this is not done by to-morrow morning I will\nhave you cut up into four quarters.\"\n\nAs the Tsaritza spoke, the face of the shoemaker took on an expression\nof wonder worthy of a large audience at the most wonderful conjuring\nentertainment you can imagine. Then he turned slowly and left the\napartment of Elena the Beautiful, muttering to himself, \"Court\nShoemaker, Court Dressmaker, and now Court Magician. I may as well\nhave another day's frolic, for though a man may rise twice in drowning\nhe does not rise thrice and live.\"\n\nHe walked slowly off to the inn, heavily weighed down with greatness\nand cursing the day when he had forsaken his simple life. But he had\nthe price of the robe in his pouch and the third carousal was as jolly\nas the others, and he swore to drink six gallons of spirits on the\nfollowing morning. His friends gave him a drunken cheer, sang \"He's\na jolly good fellow,\" and saw him home with the keg under his arm.\n\nAs before Ivan was waiting for him, and as good luck would have it,\nthe poor man for all his intoxication was able to remember what was\nrequired of him; and as for Lame and Crooked he smiled a crooked but\nvery intelligent smile when the task was detailed to him. \"At last,\"\nhe said, \"you give me real work to do.\"\n\nIvan went to sleep and woke early thinking that he had overslept\nhimself and that it was now broad noon, for a bright light as of the\nsun was shining in at his chamber window which, as he knew very well,\nfaced due south. He sprang from his bed, and, drawing aside the blind,\nsaw across the sea the Kingdom of Gold in all its splendour lying like\na shining island seven miles from the shore, and across the waters\nstretching from that Kingdom to the palace of the Great White Tsar\nthere was a bridge of gold with costly crimson velvet laid upon it,\nat each side of which were set wonderful trees to form an avenue full\nof love-birds singing sweetest songs of dawn with varied voices. Ivan\ndropped the blind, dressed himself with particular care in the golden\nlight which filled his chamber, went into his master's room and roused\nhim from his heavy sleep.\n\n\"Have they come for me?\" cried the man in great terror, \"give me the\nkeg and-----\" But Ivan said quietly:\n\n\"But the Kingdom of Gold is upon the sea.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said the shoemaker. \"How did we do that?\"\n\n\"Don't you remember how we fixed it?\" said Ivan.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" was the hasty reply. \"I dimly remember, very, very\ndimly. Let us go out to see if we have finished the work with the\ncare expected of our exalted appointments.\"\n\nIn a few moments they were upon the shore and found everything prepared\nin a manner which seemed to be fit even for Elena the Beautiful,\nbut one thing did not please the fastidious taste of Ivan.\n\n\"Here, master,\" he said, \"here is a peacock feather duster. Go and\ndust the railing of the pathway to the kingdom. And if you meet any\npersons in the avenue give them this letter.\"\n\nThe man at once went off to do the bidding of his journeyman, and\nwas soon busily engaged in delicately dusting the golden railing of\nthe bridge.\n\nMeanwhile Elena the Beautiful arose, and drawing the curtains of her\nchamber which looked towards the sea saw the Kingdom of Gold lying\nlike a shining island on the bosom of the deep blue waters. Her maids\ndressed her in a simple robe of white lawn, with a girdle of gold,\nand then she went to the Great White Tsar, who sat at breakfast with\nGolden Tress, and told him what she had seen across the sea. At once\nthe mighty monarch sent out royal messengers and these men walked\nalong the bridge until they met the shoemaker, who was busily engaged\nin the task which Ivan had set him. When they accosted him he did not\ncease his work, but taking a letter from his pouch handed it with his\nleft hand to the men whose duty it would have been to hang, behead,\nand quarter him if it had not been for his wonderful assistant who\ncould get everything done.\n\nThe men went away and brought the letter to the Great White Tsar just\nas he was beginning on toast and marmalade. He propped it up against\nthe diamond teapot and read it as he finished his morning meal,\nand as he did so he made such strange exclamations that Golden Tress\nthought with concern that a crumb of toast must surely have gone down\nthe wrong way.\n\nThen he arose and ordered out the golden State coach for himself and\nGolden Tress, as well as a simple waggon of dark wood drawn by a small\nshaggy pony for the Golden Tsaritza, and in this way they came to the\nend of the bridge which led to the Kingdom of Gold, where stood Ivan\nwith Peter on one side of him and Vasily on the other.\n\nThe Tsar frowned when he caught sight of his two elder sons, for Ivan's\nletter had told him all the truth, but as he looked Ivan embraced both\nof them as a sign that on this golden morning he could forgive any one.\n\nThe State carriage came to a stop, and Ivan ran forward to greet his\nparents, but hearing a low cry of gladness from the simple waggon\nbehind he ran forward, lifted Elena the Beautiful to the ground,\nand leading her to his mother knelt to receive her blessing.\n\nYou have not paid much attention to the details of this story if\nyou cannot imagine what followed; but even the most careful reader\ncannot measure the bliss of the lovers who had known that they loved\neach other since their first meeting without a word being spoken;\nand that is really a greater wonder than the magic feats performed\nby Lame and Crooked, when you come to think about it soberly.\n\nAs for Peter, he was married to the Silver Tsaritza, while Vasily\nwedded the Copper Tsaritza, and the shoemaker was made a general on\nthe retired list, which meant that he had fine uniforms and a grand\nhouse, but was not expected to do any fighting. He was given a coat\nof arms by Golden Tress which bore three spirit kegs, as a reminder\nthat he was to be a temperate man for the rest of his life, and for\nall I know, he really was.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVASILY THE TURBULENT\n\n\nPeace had no charm for Vasily of Novgorod the Great, but where there\nwas fighting to be done there he was at his best and happiest. Rest\nand ease had no attraction for him, but where the rover wandered\nthere was the place of his journeying. His father, however, had lived\nin peace with the men of Novgorod the Great, and had died leaving to\nhis widow and his only son a great store of treasure, a wide palace\nwith a lofty tower, and a cellar full of green wine without price.\n\nWhen Vasily had reached the age of seven years his mother sent him\nto learn to read and write, for she longed to curb his fiery spirit\nwith the rein of reflection which learning places upon the violent;\nand Vasily, being of a determined disposition, applied himself to\nlearning with a will so that he succeeded better than all the scholars\nwho studied by his side. But reading and writing did not curb his\nfiery spirit, nor even church singing in which he also excelled,\nand he could pass from the cathedral and the singing of holy songs to\nnoisy brawls in the city streets in which he cracked heads as if they\nwere nuts. He was so strong and thoughtless that even his friends ran\ndown side paths to avoid meeting him, for it was said that he had one\nday torn out a young man's arm in the act of shaking hands with him,\nand had stricken another to the ground by clapping him playfully upon\nthe back.\n\nAs Vasily grew up his vigorous pranks began to terrify the good people\nof Novgorod, who came to his widow mother to beg for protection against\nher son. She was a peaceable, gentle lady, who was greatly alarmed\nat the strength which her son was developing, and she upbraided him\nwith tears in her eyes.\n\n\"My son,\" she said, \"why do you delight in going about the city making\ncripples? At your age your father had no treasure to speak of, but\nhe had a band of brave bodyguards, and was a wise leader among men\nand a judge among the people of Novgorod the Great.\"\n\nThese gentle words displeased Vasily greatly, and instead of\nrestraining him moved him to greater mischief. \"Men shall speak of my\nmight\" he muttered as he left his mother, \"and in after years shall\nboast even in Novgorod of the heroic deeds of their own townsman, aye,\neven if I crack hundreds of their own thick skulls for them. They\nwill remember me when they have forgotten men of wisdom and of safe\njudgment.\" Then he proceeded to win his reputation.\n\nHe went up to his own room in the top of his lofty tower and sat\ndown at the table to write on a scroll of parchment, but it was no\npsalm or cathedral hymn which the turbulent scholar wrote. It was an\ninvitation to a feast and ran thus:\n\n\"Whosoever wishes to eat savoury viands ready to his hand and without\ncost to himself, as well as to drink green wine of priceless value\nand to wear embroidered robes of the best, let him come to the court\nof Vasily at once and instantly.\"\n\nHe wrote out this invitation many times and then gathering up the\nscrolls went to the open window. Here he fitted each of the parchments\nto a stout arrow and shot them into the city, which was about two\nmiles away; and as the men of Novgorod came from church they gathered\nup these strange missives in the streets and lanes and broad paven\ncourtyards. Many of them wondered, and they came together in groups\ngravely discussing the marvellous matter, until a priest came along\nfrom the church and read one of the scrolls which was attached to the\narrow. Then the word buzzed round the town, \"Vasily the Turbulent\ncommandeth us to an honourable feast.\" And the men of Novgorod the\nGreat thought that now their chance had surely come to pay off the long\nscore against the man who troubled the peace of their trading city.\n\nMeanwhile Vasily was making preparation for his guests, and he meant\nto use the occasion to select for himself a brave bodyguard. The test\nfor admission to this very select and honourable company was to be\nso severe that Vasily would be perfectly sure of gaining protectors\nof the bravest. He rolled a great cask of green wine from the vaults\nand set it up in the middle of the banquet-hall, saying to himself,\n\"Whoever shall lift in one hand a cup of this wine and shall drain\nit at one breath, and shall likewise stand upright after a blow from\nmy cudgel of red elm, shall make one of my brave bodyguard.\" Then he\nwent to his room in the top of the lofty tower and lying down upon his\nheroic bed of smooth planks slept the sleep of Ilya the Old Coss\u00e1ck.\n\nThe next morning, very early, his widow mother paced the passages\nof her palace and chanced to look out upon the broad courtyard. To\nher surprise she saw that it was crowded with a great company of the\nmen of Novgorod. In trembling haste she ascended the tall tower and\nroused her unruly son from his heavy sleep.\n\n\"Do you sleep, Vasily,\" she said, \"and take your ease and care nothing\nfor the peril which is even now at your gates? See, a company of\nangry men make your courtyard as black as a raven's wing.\"\n\nThe young man at once sprang to his nimble feet, grasped his great club\nof red elm in his white hands, and went out into the wide courtyard.\n\n\"Ho, there, Vasily the Turbulent,\" shouted some of the foremost of\nthe guests. \"We have come to your banquet and are determined to eat\nup all your stores of food, to drink up your green wine, to wear your\nembroidered robes, and then drag forth your golden treasures.\"\n\nThe tone of the acceptance of the invitation could scarcely be\ndescribed as polite, and it roused the hot blood of Vasily the\nTurbulent. He leapt forth into the courtyard, grasped his club of\nred elm with a firm grip and began to brandish it. Wherever he swung\nit forward an open lane appeared among the crowd, and when he drew\nit backward he made an alley. Soon the men of Novgorod were lying in\ngreat heaps in the courtyard, while the rest went back to the town; and\nVasily climbed once more to his chamber at the top of the tall tower.\n\nAfter a while there came a black-browed handmaid to the door of the\nchamber, and calling Vasily outside she told him that the New Trader\nwished to join his bodyguard; and Vasily came down to the hall where\nthe young man stood near the great vat of green wine. He was a comely\nyouth with black curls upon a white brow, and blue eyes which looked\never into the distance, as if he sighted new lands afar off and cared\nnot for the trodden ways. As soon as he saw him standing there proudly\nerect, Vasily advanced swiftly upon him, grasping his great club of\nred elm, and smote him a stunning, staggering blow. But the young\nman was neither stunned nor did he stagger. He stood firm under that\nheavy blow, the black curls upon his forehead did not move, and the\nwine from the full cup in his hand was not spilt.\n\n\"Is my strength waning?\" cried Vasily in despair, and then as if to\ntest it he raised the club again and brought it down upon a white and\nburning stone which lay at his feet. The hard stone was shivered to\natoms and Vasily laughed grimly, as he turned to the New Trader.\n\n\"Drain off the green wine at a breath,\" he commanded, and the young\nman did so. \"Hail, New Trader!\" cried Vasily the Turbulent, \"you\nshall be of my bodyguard from this day forward.\"\n\nThen there entered the hall two young men of the town, one of whom\nwas known as the Lame and the other as the Hunchback, and in spite\nof their infirmities these two stood the severe tests of Vasily and\nwere admitted to his bodyguard.\n\nIn this strange manner did Vasily the Turbulent choose his brave\nbodyguard of three men only, three men and no more.\n\n\"Enter now my palace of white stone,\" said the hero, \"and there we\nwill feast on the best that my larders can afford; and while we eat\ntogether I will tell you how I shall entertain the men of Novgorod.\"\n\nThe four heroes sat down to the white tables and Vasily sat in the\ngreat corner. They were waited upon by the black-browed maiden, and\nwhen the meal was nearly over Vasily unfolded his plan for his next\nbanquet. His bodyguard laughed gently as they heard of his purpose; and\nthe next day they went out into Novgorod to invite the leading men to\ncome and partake of the hospitality of Vasily the Turbulent. They came\nin a great crowd and found the tables prepared for a banquet, being\nfilled with dishes and huge cups, but there was only one waiting-maid,\nthe girl of the black brows, to attend upon this great company.\n\nAs soon as the guests were seated and Vasily had taken his place in the\nbig corner, the black-browed maid brought steaming dishes and foaming\ntankards and placed them before her master and his bodyguard, but she\nplaced neither food nor drink before the men of Novgorod, who were\nvery hungry, for the wind was keen and the world was white. Now when\nthe citizens saw that they were mocked by Vasily and his bodyguard,\nand even by the black-browed servant maid, they were spitefully angry\nand cursed their host and his men, but this only made the four jokers\nlaugh the louder; whereupon the guests arose and crowded out into\nthe snow-covered courtyard rather more hungry than when they came in.\n\n\"We will not forget this vile insult,\" piped one small citizen in a\nmantle of marten skins with a collar of sables; \"why, my neighbour\nwas full of spleen because of my invitation to the lord's castle, and\nwhen the story is known his pity and scorn will be much worse to bear\nthan his spleen. But we shall repay Vasily in his own bad coin. Let us\nmake such a feast as the citizens of Novgorod have never seen before,\nand we will not send Vasily an invitation.\"\n\n\"That is a good thought,\" said two stout citizens, and they all went\nhome with their heads so high in the air that some of them slipped\ndown on the way upon some slides that certain wicked boys--who would\nassuredly never grow up to be councillors--had made in the roadway. In\na few days the feast was prepared and the invitations were issued,\nbut there was no bidding for Vasily and his contemptible bodyguard.\n\nIt was impossible that the preparations for the banquet should escape\nthe vigilance of Vasily, and indeed the merchants agreed that it\nwould be well if he did hear of it. \"Otherwise,\" said one of them,\nwho had made a great fortune by buying and selling rags and bones,\n\"how can he be humbled, for, look you, neighbours, if he does not\nknow of the feast he will not miss our invitation.\"\n\n\"That is so,\" said the others, \"that is indeed so, and true, and\nwise, and intelligent. Our friend must be the next Elder of Novgorod\nthe Great.\"\n\nSo the servant maid of the rag-merchant told the servant maid of\nanother trader, who told the black-browed maid at the castle, only\nto find that she knew all about it already, for her master had told\nher two days before.\n\n\"Mother,\" said Vasily that morning, \"I shall go to the feast of the\nmen of Novgorod.\"\n\n\"My dear child,\" said the old lady, \"there is always room for the\nguest who is bidden, but none for the guest who is unbidden.\" But her\ngentle counsel placed no restraint upon Vasily who, when the time came,\nsummoned his bodyguard and walked straight into the banquet-hall,\nasking no leave of the gatekeepers nor yet of the lackeys at the\ndoors. He strode forward to the wall-bench in the great corner by\nthe stove and sat down there to wait his turn to be served. No man\npresent dared withstand him, and he glared down the table in such\na ferocious manner that many of the citizens burnt their tongues by\nforgetting to blow upon their broth.\n\n\"Ah, well,\" said one of them, as he made a brave attack upon a great\nsirloin of beef, \"Vasily may be here but he wasn't invited, while we\nwere invited,--in fact I invited myself.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes,\" piped the small rag-merchant, who wore a coat of greater\nvalue than any, \"we were invited but he wasn't.\" And with this\nconsolation they went on with their feasting, Vasily being served as\nnobly as the rest with meat of the richest and wine of the greenest.\n\nAs the banquet went on the spirits of the citizens arose, and the\nsmall rag-merchant began to think that he might some day be bold enough\nto challenge even Vasily to mortal combat. As for the turbulent lord\nhimself, he stood up when the merriment was at its height and issued\na mighty challenge. He would go, he said, with his brave bodyguard\non the following day to the bridge over the Volkof river, and would\nhold his own against all the men of Novgorod. Then he stalked from\nthe room and across the snow-covered streets to his own palace.\n\nAt the doorway he was met by his widow mother, who noticed at once\nthat he was aroused to turbulent anger. \"Did they pass you with the\ndishes,\" she asked, \"or did they jeer at you?\" Vasily was too much\nmoved to reply, but the bodyguard told her all the truth. Then the\nwidow mother put her shoes upon her bare feet, cast her mantle of\nfine sables over her cold shoulders and went her way down, down into\nthe deep vaults below the palace. There she heaped up a bowl with\nrich red gold, another with white silver, and a third with fine seed\npearls; and having called the black-browed maiden, who came from her\nroom with hair unbound and feet all bare, the two women crossed the\nwhite courtyard and passed along the silent streets until they came\nto the hall where the citizens were finishing their banquet.\n\nThe widow mother went forward to the great corner with the black-browed\nmaid close behind her, and holding out the glittering bowls, said to\nthe chief citizens:\n\n\"Hail, ye men of Novgorod! Forgive now the fault of Vasily my\nturbulent son.\"\n\nBut the citizens were now so filled with the courage born of rich\nfood and green wine that they thought themselves superior to bribes,\nand with drunken scorn they refused the gifts of the peace-loving\nmother, and said with a great show of spirit:\n\n\"If we shall be able to take Vasily, we will ride his good steed,\nwear his embroidered garments, and take, but not as a gift, all his\nrich red gold, his white silver, and his fine seed pearls. We will\npardon him freely when we shall have cut off his turbulent head.\"\n\nThen the widow mother went home in great grief and sadness, scattering\nas she went upon the frozen snow the rich red gold, the white silver,\nand the fine seed pearls, saying to herself as she went, \"Not these\nthings are dear to me, but the turbulent head of my own dear son.\"\n\nNow when she came once more to her own house she gave Vasily to drink\nof the cup of forgetfulness, led him down into the deepest dungeon,\nand locked him securely within. Then she went out into the stables\nand set his wild shaggy charger free to wander over the wide steppe,\nand taking his great cudgel of red elm, his sharp sword, and his coat\nof mail, she hid them where she thought no one would ever be able to\nfind them.\n\nEarly the next morning Vasily's brave bodyguard took their stand at one\nend of the bridge over the Volkof river, and the men of Novgorod came\nagainst them in a great crowd. All that day they fought without pause\nfor refreshment, and for a second day and a night and yet a third day\nwithout pause for taking breath. In the meantime Vasily slept and took\nhis ease, knowing nothing of the straits to which his brave bodyguard\nwas reduced. But as the black-browed maiden went to the stream for\nfresh water, with her buckets fastened on a maple yoke, she saw the\nfight by the bridge. Then she set down the buckets, and taking the\nyoke from her white shoulders entered into the fray and cracked the\nskulls of many more citizens than she could count. After that she\nran quickly home, and coming to the door of Vasily's dungeon cried out:\n\n\"Do you sleep, Vasily, and take your ease? Up there upon Volkof bridge\nyour brave bodyguard stand as prisoners of the men of Novgorod, their\nfeet in blood, their heads broken with whips, and their hands bound\nwith their own girdles.\"\n\n\"Open this pestilent door,\" roared Vasily, \"and I will give you as much\ntreasure as you desire in return for the displeasure of your mistress.\"\n\nThe black-browed maiden needed no bribe to urge her to obey. With\none stout blow of her maple yoke she broke the heavy lock, whereupon\nshe set her white shoulder against the door, which creaked and then\ngave way under her young strength. So Vasily came out once more\ninto the white world, and as he could not find his warlike gear he\nwrenched the iron axle from a cart which stood in the empty stable,\nthrew it over his shoulder and said, \"I thank you, maiden, that you\ndid not let my brave bodyguard perish. Hereafter I will repay you,\nbut now I must not tarry.\"\n\n\"Haste, oh haste,\" said the black-browed maid, \"and give no thought\nto reward for me. It is enough for me to be the handmaid of a man\nwho loves a fight against odds.\"\n\nIn a short time Vasily came to the Volkof bridge and found all as the\nblack-browed maid had told him. \"Ah, my brave bodyguard,\" he cried,\n\"you have breakfasted well; now let me dine. It was not I, my band of\nbrothers, who betrayed you but my own mother.\" With a mighty forward\nsweep of the iron axle he made a lane through the crowd of citizens and\nwith a backward stroke he made an alley. Then he loosed the bonds of\nhis brave bodyguard and said to them, \"Go now, my brothers, and rest,\nwhile I play with these children from Novgorod.\"\n\nThereupon he began to stride about upon the bridge, brandishing his\naxle, and the men of Novgorod fell in great heaps about him. At this\nthe leaders drew off unobserved and went with the Elder at their\nhead to the peace-loving widow mother, begging her to calm her wild\nson before he had completely wiped out all the citizens of Novgorod;\nbut she said, \"I dare not do that, you men of Novgorod, for I did him\ngrievous wrong by confining him in a dungeon and sowing distrust of his\nvalour in the hearts of his brave bodyguard. But my son has a godfather\nwho is known as the Ancient Pilgrim, and who dwells in the monastery\nupon the hill. He is a man of discretion--for what can a woman do\nalone in such a strait? Ask him for help against my turbulent son.\"\n\nSo the men of Novgorod with the Elder at their head went to the Ancient\nPilgrim and told him all their trouble, at which he sorrowed greatly;\nand he made ready at once to leave the peace of his monastery and go\nwith them to see what he could do. Now he was known as the Ancient\nPilgrim, but he was really a great Russian hero who was spending some\ntime in quiet, but who had known what it was in the earlier days to\nstand up against a host. Hearing that there was stern fighting going\non, it came into his mind that he might possibly need protection,\nand having no armour or helmet at hand he climbed up very nimbly for\nan Ancient Pilgrim into the belfry, loosed the great service bell\nand put it upon his heroic head.\n\n\"This will serve me in good stead,\" he said, \"in the place where heads\nare being broken.\" Then finding the clapper of the bell somewhat in\nhis way, he detached it and used it as a staff; and as he stepped\nacross the great drawbridge which led from the monastery it bent and\ngroaned beneath his weight.\n\nHe walked straightway to Vasily and looked him squarely in the\neyes. \"My godson,\" he said in a coaxing voice, \"curb your heroic\nturbulence. Spare at least a few of these men to carry on the business\nof the town.\"\n\nThese words added fuel to the fire within the breast of Vasily,\nand he replied:\n\n\"Hail, godfather! If I gave you no white peace egg at Easter yet take\nthis red one from me on St. Peter's Day.\"\n\nThen he heaved up the great axle and brought it down with a resounding\nclang upon the great service bell on the heroic head of the Ancient\nPilgrim; and with that single blow the life of the hero of old time was\nended. His staff now served Vasily for a new weapon, and he continued\nto strike down the men of Novgorod in dozens and twenties. The Elder\nand his companions kept carefully upon the outside of the throng,\nand when they saw the fall of the Ancient Pilgrim they went again\nto the widow mother and asked her to make intercession for them with\nher turbulent son.\n\nSo she dressed herself in a robe of black, threw a cloak of fine\nsables about her shoulders, set a helmet from her husband's armoury\nupon her aged head, and went to plead with her son. She did not,\nhowever, as the Ancient Pilgrim had done, walk straight up to Vasily\nand look him squarely in the eyes; she crept up behind him and laid\nher trembling hands upon his mighty shoulders, entreating him to spare\nthe men of Novgorod in his wild anger. And at the sound of her gentle\nvoice Vasily dropped his arms, the bell clapper fell from his hands\nupon the lap of moist Mother Earth, and he said in a gentle voice:\n\n\"Lady mother, you are a cunning old woman and a wise one too. Well\nyou knew how to break my power by coming at me from behind, for if you\nhad approached me from before I should not have spared even you in my\nanger, so blinded was I with fury against these traders of Novgorod.\"\n\nThe Elder and the councillors now took heart, and having conceived a\ntremendous respect for Vasily came forward and prayed that he would\nbe their honoured guest at a banquet, where he should sit in the\ngreat corner and eat and drink of the best. Vasily consented to go\nwith them, but he felt ill at ease at the banquet, for he was the\nonly fighting man there and had no conversation for traders. So he\nslipped away from the feast as soon as he could, and went home to\nhis widow mother and his brave body-guard; and he sat among them by\nthe stove until long past midnight, talking of many things which had\nhappened and of things which were to come.\n\n\"When our wounds are healed,\" said Vasily, \"I will build me a red\nship with delicate sails of white linen and launch it upon the\nbosom of Ilmen Lake; and with my brave bodyguard I will go to pray\nin Jerusalem city, to worship at the holy of holies, to visit the\ngrave of the Risen Christ, and to bathe in the Jordan river.\"\n\nIn a short time the red ship was built and sailed proudly upon the\nbosom of Ilmen Lake. Vasily walked the decks while his brave bodyguard\nmanaged the sailing, and as the sun shone on the sails of white linen\nthe heart of the hero filled with pride.\n\n\"Set the sails towards the town of Novgorod,\" he cried, and in a short\nspace of time they caught the shore, threw out gangways to the bank,\nand having left a watch behind on the ship came into the town and\nthence to the palace of Vasily. The hero sought out his widow mother\nand gently folded his strong arms about her trembling form.\n\n\"Lady mother,\" he said in persuasive tones, \"give me your sacred\nblessing, for with my brave bodyguard I will go to pray in Jerusalem\ncity, to worship at the holy of holies, to visit the grave of the\nRisen Christ, and to bathe in the Jordan river.\"\n\n\"Ah, my son,\" his mother made answer, \"if you go with a good purpose\nI will give you my good blessing, but if you go to rob I will not give\nit. If that is your purpose may moist Mother Earth no longer bear you.\"\n\n\"That is to be discovered and found out,\" said Vasily, and he persuaded\nhis mother so that she gave him freely from the armoury great stores of\nweapons, and from the kitchen and larder as much bread and other food\nas the black-browed maid had prepared in a month of Holy Days. Then\nshe said good-bye with tears, and the black-browed maid stood upon\nthe bank as the red ship with sails of fair white linen sailed away\nfrom Novgorod and ran out like a full-breasted water-bird upon the\nbosom of Lake Ilmen.\n\nFor a long time the black-browed maid stood shading her eyes with\nher hand while her white shoulders heaved. Then when the ship could\nno more be seen, she turned and went back to the kitchen, where she\nwrapped the widow mother in her cloak of sables; for though the sun\nshone the mother of Vasily was cold as with the breath of winter from\nthe broad white world.\n\nFor two days the red ship sailed onward, and on the second day they\nmet a ship which they spoke in a friendly fashion. \"Whither away,\nVasily?\" asked the sailors, who hailed from Novgorod the Great.\n\n\"I am going, my mariners,\" said Vasily, \"upon an unwilling path. Young\nas I am I am blood-guilty, and I must save my soul; so now I go to\npray in Jerusalem city, to worship at the holy of holies, to visit the\ngrave of the Risen Christ, and to bathe in the Jordan river. Tell me,\ngood youths, where is the straight way to the Sacred City?\"\n\nThen they told him that the straight way would lead him by a seven\nweeks' journey, but that the way about would take a year and a half to\ntraverse. But if he took the straight way he would meet with a stout\nbarrier, for the chieftains of the Cossacks, in number about three\nthousand, made their lair upon the island of Kuminsk, robbing merchant\nvessels and destroying red ships with sails of fair white linen.\n\n\"I trust in my cudgel of the red elm,\" said Vasily. \"Haste now,\nmy bodyguard, and steer my red beauty by the straight way.\"\n\nSo they sailed onward, turning neither to the right hand nor to the\nleft, until they came to a lofty mountain which sloped down steeply\nto the water. Tired of his confinement Vasily ran in to the shore and\nascended the steep hill with his brave bodyguard at his heels. Half-way\nup the ascent they found a human skull and human bones lying in the\npathway. Vasily cast them aside with spurning foot, and from the hollow\nskull came a human voice. \"Hey, Vasily the Turbulent, why do you spurn\nme? There was a time, O youth, when I was such as you are, and even\nyet I know how to defend myself. Upon this lofty mountain, in the\ndays that are to come, shall lie the skull of Vasily the Turbulent.\"\n\nThe young man made a gesture of disgust and passed on, saying, \"Surely\na spirit unclean speaks from this hollow skull.\" At the top of the\nmountain he found a huge stone on which was carved the inscription:\n\"He who shall comfort himself at this stone and divert himself by\nleaping along it shall break his turbulent head.\"\n\nVasily scoffed at the warning and began to divert himself by leaping\nacross the great stone, his brave bodyguard following his example. But,\nsomehow, they did not feel inclined to leap lengthwise. After spending\nsome time in this diversion and stretching their cramped limbs thereby,\nthey came down from the mountain and embarked once more upon the\nred ship. Then they hoisted the sails of fair white linen and sped\nswiftly over the heaving bosom of the Caspian Sea until they came to\nthat great barrier feared of merchantmen where the robber Cossacks\nhid in the island of Kuminsk, robbing merchant vessels and destroying\nred ships with sails of fair white linen.\n\nAt the landing stood a hundred fierce warriors, but neither\ntheir height nor their girth nor their weapons had any terrors for\nVasily. He drew near to the shore, his men cast out landing-stages,\nand he crossed over into the midst of the Cossack guard, flourishing\nhis cudgel of red elm.\n\nAs soon as the brave hundred saw Vasily coming they trembled, turned\nand fled to their chieftains, who did not seem to be greatly surprised\nat the news brought by the young men.\n\n\"Surely,\" they said quietly, \"it is Vasily the Turbulent from Novgorod\nthe Great who comes upon us with the flight of the falcon.\"\n\nThey had no sooner spoken these words than the young man stepped\nboldly among them with his club of red elm in his hand. But instead\nof making a lane with a forward stroke and an alley with a backward,\nVasily bowed courteously before the Cossack chiefs and said, \"Hail,\nmasters! Show me now the straight road to the holy city of Jerusalem.\"\n\nThe chieftains bowed in return saying, \"Hail, Vasily of Novgorod! We\nentreat you to eat bread and drink green wine with us.\"\n\nThen they poured out green wine without price, and Vasily, grasping the\ncup in one hand, emptied it at a single draught, though it contained\na bucket and a half. At this the chieftains wondered greatly but said\nnothing, and when they had broken bread together, Vasily went back to\nthe red ship with fair white linen sails, taking with him rich gifts\nfrom the Cossack chieftains--a bowl of red gold, another of white\nsilver, and a third of fine seed pearls. He was also accompanied by\na young Cossack chieftain who had undertaken to be his guide to the\nholy city of Jerusalem.\n\nWithout loss of time Vasily and his brave bodyguard hoisted their\nsails of fair white linen and ran out upon the Caspian Sea. After\nmuch journeying they came to the Jordan river, where they threw out\nstrong anchors and landing-stages upon the steep banks; and Vasily\nwith his brave bodyguard entered in all peacefulness the holy city\nof Jerusalem. They came to the cathedral church and attended mass,\nwhere Vasily prayed for his mother, himself, and all his family, and\nas he prayed the thought of Novgorod the Great softened his turbulent\nheart. On the next day a service was held for the bold travellers,\nand the priests begged forgiveness for all their guilt in the matter\nof violence and headstrong wilfulness. Then Vasily prayed before the\nholy of holies, bathed in the sacred river Jordan, gave gold without\nstint to the priests of the city as well as to the aged people,\nand embarked once more on his red ship with sails of fair white linen.\n\nNow before they put off again the brave bodyguard went also to bathe\nin the sacred Jordan river, and as they did so an aged woman came\ndown to them.\n\n\"Why do you bathe,\" she said, \"in Jordan river? None must bathe therein\nsave Vasily only, whom you shall lose on your way home. Do you not know\nthat your master will be taken from your head as you go homewards?\"\n\nAnd the youths answered curtly:\n\n\"Be silent.\"\n\nIn a short time the sails were hoisted, and they put out once more on\nthe broad bosom of the Caspian Sea, and came at last to the island\nof Kuminsk, where they sought out the Cossack chieftains and bowed\ndown before them. But Vasily was somehow disinclined to talk of his\ntravels or of his early days of violence and headiness. He gave to the\nchieftains a parchment scroll which he had brought from Jerusalem,\nin which were written many hard commandments that he enjoined the\nCossack chiefs to follow. When these men invited him to a banquet\nVasily declined, and taking leave of them very quietly for a man of\nsuch a turbulent heart, he set out once more across the Caspian Sea\nfor Novgorod the Great.\n\nWhen they had sailed for two weeks they came to the steep mountain,\nand being weary of confinement on the ship they landed to stretch\ntheir legs. The young man went up the steep face of the mountain with\nspringing step and came at last to the great stone upon the summit\nacross which they all leapt in much merriment of heart. Then Vasily\nin his height of spirits tried to leap lengthwise along the stone,\nbut fell in a heap upon it and was taken up dead; and his brave\nbodyguard buried him at the place where the hollow skull had lain.\n\nThen the sad youths hoisted the fair white sails upon the masts of\nthe red ship and came at last to the city of Novgorod the Great. They\nsought out the widow mother of Vasily who sat huddled by the stove in\nthe kitchen and who gave no sign of surprise when the brave bodyguard\nentered, bowed before her, and gave her a letter which Vasily had\nwritten upon the voyage. She read the scroll without tears, surprise,\nor cries of desolation, and then holding up her head in the pride of\nsacred grief she said:\n\n\"Thanks to you, good and noble youths. Go now into the treasure-house\nand take from thence whatever your hearts desire.\"\n\nThen the black-browed maiden came forward and led them to the vaults,\nturning her white shoulders from them as they chose whatever seemed\ngood to them. When they returned to the kitchen they found the dry-eyed\nwidow mother preparing clothes and boots and food and wine for them\nthat they might clothe themselves afresh and feast well before they\nwent into the city to speak with the men of Novgorod.\n\nAfter supper they sat quietly near the stove and the widow mother was\nthe first to break the silence. \"Yet Sadko came back to Novgorod the\nGreat,\" she said; \"Sadko came back to take his ease in his own city.\"\n\n\"But Sadko was a trader,\" said the black-browed maid with quiet scorn.\n\n\"Tell on,\" said the brave bodyguard. And the maiden said, \"It will\npass the time till morning if I tell you the tale of Merchant Sadko\nwhich has been told in Novgorod since you went away in your red ship\nwith fair white linen sails.\" So she seated herself at the feet of\nthe widow mother on the red bricks of the floor for humility, and\ntold her story to the listening youths, the tale of\n\n\nMerchant Sadko, the Rich Guest of Novgorod.\n\nIn Novgorod the Great dwelt Sadko the harpist, who had no store of\ntreasure except the golden tones of his harp of maple-wood. He went\nabout to the great feasts of the nobles and made all merry with\nhis playing.\n\nNow for three days Sadko had not been bidden to any merry feast,\nand his heart grew sad within him. So he went down to the shore of\nLake Ilmen and sat down upon a blue stone. And there, to soothe his\nspirit, he began to play upon his harp of maple-wood, and played from\nearly morning until far into the night. Then a great storm arose;\nthe waves lashed up the shore to the blue stone on which Sadko sat,\nand great terror seized upon the heart of the minstrel so that he\nreturned to Novgorod in haste and disquiet.\n\nThe stormy night passed, another day dawned fair and peaceful, but\nstill Sadko was not bidden to a merry feast. So he went again to\nthe shore of the lake, again a storm arose, and again he returned to\nNovgorod in haste and disquiet.\n\nThe stormy night passed, another day dawned fair and peaceful, but\neven yet Sadko was not bidden to a merry feast. So he went again to\nthe shore of the lake, again a storm arose, but this time the heart of\nSadko grew stout, and he went on with his playing though his fingers\ntrembled sorely. Then the Water Tsar arose from the lake and said\nto Sadko:\n\n\"We thank you, Sadko the Musician, for your diversion, for the sweet\nsounds of your harp came down to the ears of the worshipful guests at\nmy banquet; and I am at a loss, Sadko, for means of granting reward\nto you.\n\n\"But go back, Sadko, to Novgorod the Great, where to-morrow you shall\nbe called to a merry feast, at which many merchants of Novgorod\nshall be present. Now when they have eaten well and drunk better,\nthey will begin to boast. One shall brag of his good horse as if it\nwere another Cloudfall; another of the great deeds of his youth as if\nSvyatogor were puny beside him; a third of the beauty of his young\nwife as if she were another Golden Tress; and a fourth, a wise man,\nof the goodness of his aged father and the tenderness of his mother.\n\n\"Then boast in your own turn, Sadko, and say: 'I know something which\nis known to none of this worshipful company. I know that there are\nin Lake Ilmen fishes with golden fins.' Then they will argue with\nyou and say that such fishes do not exist, but you must wager your\nhead upon the truth of your word, in return for their pledge of all\ntheir shops and their precious wares.\n\n\"Then you shall buy a net of the finest silk, not for youthful\nvanity, but for strength, and come and cast it into the waters of\nLake Ilmen. You must cast the net three times in the lake, and at\neach cast I will place within it a fish with fins of gold. So shall\nyou win your wager, even the rich shops of Novgorod, and become\nSadko the Rich Guest. But in wealth forget not your sweet playing,\nnor the golden tones of your harp of maple-wood.\"\n\nThen the Water Tsar vanished from Sadko's sight.\n\nThe harper went back to Novgorod the Great, and it all happened as\nthe Water Tsar had spoken up to the time when the boasters had said\ntheir say. Then one of them said to Sadko:\n\n\"Why do you sit there, musician, and utter never a single word of\nboasting?\"\n\n\"What shall I boast of?\" asked Sadko. \"I have no treasure except the\ngolden tones of my harp of maple-wood. But there is one thing I know\nright well; there are in Ilmen Lake fishes with fins of gold.\"\n\n\"You lie, Sadko,\" cried the merchants. But Sadko said:\n\n\"I will wager my head against all the wealth of your shops.\"\n\n\"It is done,\" said they, and at once they went down to Lake Ilmen,\nSadko carrying a net of fine silk, not for youthful vanity but for\nstrength; and it all fell out as the Water Tsar had promised. Then the\nmerchants gave Sadko the treasures they had wagered, and he took to\ntrading. He prospered well, for he did not forget his sweet playing\nnor the golden tones of his harp of maple-wood, and so wherever he\nwent he was welcomed among the merchants of distant lands and won\ngreat profit thereby. In a short time he married a beautiful young\nwife, and built a palace of white stone, wherein all things were\nheavenly. His young wife moved among treasures of which even Elena\nthe Beautiful would have been envious.\n\nAfter a while Sadko made a merry feast, to which he invited a great\ncompany, including the brave heroes Laka and Thoma. Now when they\nhad eaten well and drunk better they began to boast. One bragged of\nhis good horse as if it were a second Cloudfall; another of the great\ndeeds of his youth as if Svyatogor were puny beside him; a third of\nthe beauty of his young wife as if she were another Golden Tress;\nand a fourth, a wise man, of the goodness of his aged father and the\ntenderness of his mother.\n\nThen Sadko, not to be outdone, boasted of his wealth, and swore to\nbuy up all the wares of the shops of Novgorod, both good and bad,\nday after day, until there should not be any more for sale in all\nthat city of busy traders. And upon his oath he named a great wager\nof countless treasure.\n\nThe next day he sent his servants to the markets of Novgorod, who\nbought up all the wares, both good and bad. On the second day the\nmarkets were full again, but Sadko sent his servants, who bought up all\nthe wares, both good and bad. On the third day he found the markets\nfull of precious merchandise from Moscow, and felt a merchant's\npride in the enterprise of his city; and he made a pause while he\nwent home, sat down in his own chamber and softly played upon his\nharp of maple-wood, which seemed to speak the golden tones of wisdom.\n\n\"If you buy all these goods from Moscow,\" it seemed to whisper,\n\"others will flow into Novgorod the Great from far away across the\nsea; and even Sadko the Rich Guest cannot buy all the treasures of\nthe whole white world. Sadko is rich but Novgorod the Great is still\nricher. Yield your wager and venture forth upon the merchant path\nof lake and river and broad grey sea where the Water Tsar will be\nyour friend.\"\n\nThen Sadko yielded his wager, which was an enormous sum of gold,\nand built a great fleet of thirty-three red ships with sails of fair\nwhite linen. The prows of these scarlet vessels were in the likeness of\nfearful dragons, whose eyes were precious jacinths, whose brows were\nSiberian sables and whose ears were the dark-brown skins of Siberian\nfoxes. Soon these ships were filled with the rich wares of Novgorod,\nand Sadko sailed away to Lake Ladoga and thence into the Neva and\nthrough that river to the deep-blue sea. At the ports upon the shore\nhe sold his wares, making great gain and filling many casks of forty\nbuckets with red gold, white silver, and fair seed pearls. Then they\nsailed away with Sadko in the Falcon ship which was ever foremost\nand the finest in all that scarlet fleet.\n\nBut suddenly the blue sea turned to grey and the ships, now almost\nblack in the shadow, halted and stood still. The waves rose like\nmountains, the sails flapped, the ships began to rock while men\nwhispered of Whirlwind the Whistler and said that surely Ivan the\nson of Golden Tress had not killed him.\n\nThen Sadko, the Rich Guest, shouted from his ship:\n\n\"Ho, there, my brave mariners! I hear the voice of the mighty Water\nTsar, to whom we have paid no tribute. Cast into the waters a cask\nof red gold.\" And they did so, but still the dark-red ships rocked,\nthe waves beat, the sails tore, and the hearts of the mariners longed\nfor Novgorod the Great.\n\nAgain Sadko the Rich Guest shouted from his ship:\n\n\"Ho there, my brave mariners! A cask of red gold is but a small\ngift for the Water Tsar. Cast into the waves a cask of fine seed\npearls.\" And they did so, but still the dark-red ships rocked, the\nwaves beat, the sails tore, and the hearts of the mariners longed\nfor Novgorod the Great.\n\nOnce again Sadko the Rich Guest shouted from his ship:\n\n\"Ho, there, my brave mariners! It is plain that the Water Tsar asks\nthe tribute of a living man. Make therefore slips of alder-wood and\nlet each man write his name upon his own lot and cast them all into\nthe dark-grey sea, and the lots of all who are to see their homes once\nagain shall float. But that man among us whose lot sinketh shall be\ncast into the sea.\" Then the command of Sadko was obeyed, but Sadko's\nlot was a bunch of hop flowers. And all the lots swam like ducks,\nbut the bunch of hop flowers sank like a stone.\n\nYet again Sadko the Rich Guest shouted from his ship: \"Those lots\nwere not just. Make other lots of willow-wood and try again.\" Then the\ncommand of Sadko was obeyed, but Sadko's lot was a piece of blue steel\nfrom Damascus, wondrously wrought and heavy in weight. And all the lots\nswam like wild ducks, but the piece of blue steel sank like a stone.\n\nThen Sadko said, \"It is plain that the Water Tsar asks for Sadko\nhimself.\" So he told his servants to fetch him his massive inkstand,\nhis swan-quill pen, and his paper, and they did so. Whereupon Sadko\nseated himself in his folding chair at his table of oak and began\nto apportion his goods. He gave much to God's churches, much for the\nimprovement of choir singing, much to the poor, and much to his young\nwife, and the remainder of his goods he divided among his faithful\nmariners.\n\nHaving done this in due order he wept and said to those about him:\n\n\"Ho, my brave mariners! Place an oaken plank upon the heaving dark-grey\nsea upon which I shall journey; and fill a bowl with red gold, another\nwith white silver and a third with fine seed pearls and place them upon\nthe plank.\" After that Sadko took in his right hand an iron image of\na saint of God, and in his left hand his harp of maple-wood. He wore\na mantle of rich sables over all, and he stepped upon the oaken plank\nand was borne away upon the waves while the dark-red ships sped on\nand flew as if they had been ravens over the field of the slain.\n\nNow as his strange raft floated turbulently upon the surface of the\nwater, Sadko at first was greatly terrified, but after a while he fell\ninto a gentle sleep, and when he awoke he was in the crystal kingdom of\nthe Water Tsar. He looked about him and saw the red sun burning though\nit gave no heat, and he saw also before him a palace of white stone\nin which sat the Water Tsar with a head like a heap of yellow hay.\n\n\"Welcome, Sadko, the Rich Guest of Novgorod,\" he said. \"You have long\nsailed upon the waters, but have paid no tribute to the Water Tsar. I\nhave sent for you that you may solve this riddle which is a matter\nof dispute between me and my Tsaritza. Which is now of greatest worth\nin Russia, gold or silver or damascened steel?\"\n\n\"Gold and silver are of great worth in Russia,\" said Sadko, \"but\ndamascened steel is of great value also. For without gold and silver\na man may contrive to live, but without the ore of iron no man can\nlive at ease.\"\n\n\"What do you hold in your right hand and in your left?\" asked the\nWater Tsar.\n\n\"In my right hand is a holy image,\" replied Sadko, \"and in my left\nmy harp of maple-wood.\"\n\n\"I am told,\" said the Water Tsar, whose memory must, of course, have\nbeen washed quite clean each day by living in the sea, \"that you are,\nin spite of your trading, a master player upon the harp. Play for me\nupon your harp of maple-wood.\"\n\nSadko at once commenced to finger his harp, and forgetting all his\ntrading and golden prosperity--perhaps the water washed his memory\nclean also--he played such music as the sea fairies with the pink\nconch shells could not surpass. Then he struck up a merry dance-tune,\nand at once the Tsar rose from his throne and began to jump about,\nbeating time with the skirts of his royal robe and swinging his\nmantle of white fleece round him like an encircling cloud, while\nabove all gleamed his hair as yellow as a bunch of hay. At the sound\na troop of lovely sea fairies, clad in transparent garments of the\nmost beautiful colours, joined in a choral dance, while strange sea\ncreatures squatted and leapt about the oozy floor of the ocean sea.\n\nBut the merriment at the bottom of the Water Tsar's kingdom made\nsad havoc at the top. For the upper waters of the sea were churned\ninto yeasty foam, heaving into great billows, breaking ships\nasunder, drowning many mariners, and swallowing up rich stores of\nmerchandise. For three hours did Sadko play, and then the quiet-eyed\nWater Tsaritza said to him in a compelling voice:\n\n\"Break thy harp of maple-wood, Sadko the Rich Guest, for though the\nWater Tsar makes merry in his palace below, in the upper borders of\nhis realm there is trouble enough and to spare.\"\n\nAll at once Sadko stopped playing, broke his harp and snapped its\ngolden strings, and when the Water Tsar commanded him to play for\ntwo hours more, he told him boldly that the instrument was broken.\n\n\"But I have sea-smiths here,\" said His Watery Majesty, \"who can mend\na broken pearl, so that it would be an easy thing for them to restore\na harp-string.\"\n\n\"All the sea-smiths of your ocean realm,\" said Sadko, \"could not\nrevive music that is lost. That can only be done in Holy Russia,\nwhen the maker of the music comes once more to his own home.\"\n\n\"Talk not of land kingdoms,\" said the Tsar, whirling round Sadko\nin the hope of regaining the step which he had lost, but finding it\nimpossible to dance without music. \"Stay with me and wed some beautiful\nsea-maiden. Take your choice from the maids in the train of my queen.\"\n\nSeeing that he was in the power of the Water Tsar, Sadko promised\nto do so, and asked the advice of the quiet-eyed Water Tsaritza,\nwho gave it in her own compelling voice, so that Sadko felt that it\nwas a command. \"Do not choose,\" she said, \"any sea-maid from the first\nthree hundred which the Tsar will marshal before you, but let them pass\nby in all their beauty. Do not choose from the second three hundred,\nbut let them pass in all their loveliness. But from the third three\nhundred choose the Princess who shall come last of all, and who is\nsmaller and blacker than all the rest. But when you have chosen her\ndo not kiss her, for if you do, you shall never more dwell in Holy\nRussia, nor see the fair white world and the round and ruddy sun.\"\n\nTherefore Sadko allowed the first three hundred maidens to pass him\nby in all their beauty; and he let the second three hundred pass him\nby in all their loveliness; but from the third three hundred he chose\nthe Princess who came last of all, and who was smaller and blacker\nthan all the rest. But when he chose her he did not kiss her, for\nhe longed once more to dwell in Holy Russia, to see the fair white\nworld and the round and ruddy sun.\n\nAt the wedding feast the Water Tsar made a great banquet, after which\nSadko lay down and fell into a heavy sleep; and when he awoke he\nfound himself on the steep banks of a river near Novgorod. He sat up,\nrubbing his eyes, and saw far away on the Volkof river his fleet of\nbright-red ships with their sails of fair white linen on the decks\nof which his men were standing thoughtful, thinking of Sadko in the\ndepths of the deep-blue sea. But when they saw their master standing\nupon the steep bank, they rubbed their eyes in astonishment. Then they\nhailed him, and took him on board with great rejoicing. He carried\nwith him a broken harp, and lo, as he entered his palace and saw his\nyoung wife again the harp-strings were suddenly restored to all their\nstrength and flexibility, and the body of maple-wood rang as sound\nas the great bell of St. Sophia.\n\nThenceforth Sadko sailed no more upon seas, either blue or grey,\nbut lived at home in Novgorod the Great, and delighted all with the\ngolden tones of his harp of maple-wood.\n\n\n\nThe stove was growing cold, the black-browed maiden rose to her feet,\nand stretching herself to ease her limbs stooped tenderly to wrap\nthe great mantle of sables more closely about the widow mother of\nVasily the Turbulent, who murmured gently but not complainingly,\n\"Yet Sadko came home again.\"\n\n\"We thank you for your tale, maiden,\" said the brave bodyguard of\nVasily. Then they went to their rest; and on the next day they sought\nout the men of Novgorod, and the Sea Trader told them of new routes\nfor rich merchandise which their turbulent lord had opened out for\ntheir enrichment; and they equipped the brave bodyguard with more\nscarlet ships to go out again upon those routes and win more glory\nfor Novgorod the Great.\n\nAs for Vasily, they made a great image of him, and set it up in their\nmarket, telling all men how his valour had earned for him the praise\nof all his townsmen.\n\nBut the black-browed maiden smiled with upturned scarlet lip when\nshe saw it, and shrugged her white shoulders as she turned away to\nwait upon the mother of Vasily the Turbulent.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNIKITA THE FOOTLESS AND THE TERRIBLE TSAR\n\n\nIn a certain kingdom of Holy Russia there reigned a ruler so fierce\nthat he was known as the Terrible Tsar, and the way in which he won\nhis title was this. One day he frowned such an angry frown at his\nbody-servant, who had brought him diamond shoes instead of those\nset with fine seed pearls, that the man ran out of the room in great\nterror; and he told the chambermaid, who told the butler, who told\nthe cook, who told the soldiers of the guard, who told the generals,\nwho told the people that their master was indeed the Terrible Tsar. So\nthis ruler became the terror of all the neighbouring princes; and\nwhen he heard of his reputation he took great care not to lose it\nfor it proved very useful to him.\n\nBy-and-by the Terrible Tsar made up his mind to marry, and he wrote\na proclamation in golden ink on a large piece of crimson velvet, and\nsent a herald into every town and village to read the announcement,\nwhich was to this effect--that whoever should find for him a bride\nwho was ruddier than the sun, fairer than the moon, and whiter than\nsnow should be given a reward so great that he would be forced to\nspend most of his time in computing its value. This was a prize worth\ntrying for, and before long the people of all the cities with their\nsuburbs and towns with their villages, as well as the goose-herds,\nswan-herds, cow-herds, and keepers of downy ducks on the open steppe,\nwere wagging their heads over the matter and counting up enormous\nnumbers upon their finger-tips.\n\nNow not far from the Tsar's palace there was a large brewery, and when\nthe workers in this place met together to eat their food they began\nto talk of the matter which was exercising the minds of the people\nthroughout the kingdom. \"Well, my brothers,\" said a certain man among\nthem, who was known as Nikita Koltoma, \"I am quite certain of this. No\none can find such a bride as the Terrible Tsar desires without my help;\nand if I promise to find her, found she shall be, though whether the\nTsar enjoys his good fortune when he finds her is another matter.\"\n\n\"You are a fool and a boaster,\" said the other workmen. \"How can\none of us do such a great deed as this? Why all the bravest heroes\nof Holy Russia will attempt it, and even they have small chance of\nsuccess. Let us go back to make more beer. Why, Nikita, you could\nnot do it in a dream, to say nothing of your waking hours.\"\n\n\"Well, brothers,\" said Nikita firmly and cheerfully, \"say what it\nmay please you to say; but I have faith in myself, and if any man\ncan find the bride I can do so.\"\n\n\"Hush, Nikita,\" said the others in warning voices. \"Have you not heard\nhow terrible our Tsar really is? Why if he hears of your boasting he\nwill surely put you to death.\"\n\n\"Not so,\" said Nikita quite cheerfully, \"he will not put me to\ndeath. He will give me much money, and some day, indeed, he may make\nme his first minister.\"\n\nThe workmen looked at him in dismay and terror, for over the wall they\nsaw the head of one of the Tsar's soldiers, and they could tell quite\nplainly from the tilt of his headgear that the man had heard all the\nboastful speeches of Nikita. Before long a strong guard came to take\nthe boaster away to the Tsar's palace. \"That is the last of him,\"\nsaid one of the workmen as the poor fellow was marched off. And so\nit was, at least as far as the brewery was concerned.\n\nFor the Terrible Tsar received Nikita with great delight. \"Are you the\nman,\" he asked, \"who boasted that you could find me a bride ruddier\nthan the sun, fairer than the moon, and whiter than snow?\"\n\n\"I am, Your Majesty,\" said Nikita firmly.\n\n\"That is well,\" said the Terrible Tsar. \"If you can do this, I will\ngive you such and such a reward and make you first minister. But if,\nafter boasting, you cannot do it, I will cut off your head.\"\n\n\"I am honoured by Your Majesty's august commands,\" said Nikita;\n\"but I beg of you that you will first give orders that I should be\ngiven a holiday for a month.\"\n\nThe Terrible Tsar consented to this, and ordered his steward to\ngive Nikita a paper commanding all keepers of inns and eating-houses\nto place before him food and drink of their best without stint and\nwithout charge. Then Nikita went out, and for three complete weeks he\nenjoyed himself as he had never done before. Meanwhile the Terrible\nTsar waited patiently, and when Nikita presented himself at the\npalace he scarcely knew him he was so well favoured, so vigorous,\nand so cheerful and confident of success. To him even the Terrible\nTsar seemed to have lost his terror.\n\n\"May it please Your Majesty,\" said Nikita, \"to choose for me twelve\nbrave youths exactly the same in height, in breadth, in the colour\nof their hair and the pitch of their voice; and let your workmen make\nthirteen tents of fair white linen embroidered with gold.\" In a very\nshort space of time the youths and the tents were ready, and Nikita\nsaid to his royal employer:\n\n\"Now Great Tsar, prepare yourself, and we will go to find a bride\nruddier than the sun, fairer than the moon, and whiter than snow.\"\n\nWithout further delay they saddled their good steeds and packed the\nwhite linen tents on horseback. Then after saying a prayer in the\ncathedral they gave the rein to their chargers. So fast they rode\nthat it was only a pillar of dust on the open plain and they were\ngone. For three days they travelled onward, and then they came to a\nsmith's forge.\n\n\"Go ahead now,\" said Nikita, \"and may good go with you. I will go\ninto this forge to smoke a pipe with the blacksmiths.\" Then he went\nin and found fifteen smiths making the anvils ring.\n\n\"Good-day to you, brothers,\" he bellowed, and at the sound of his\ngreat voice they ceased their hammering and returned his greeting\nwith proper courtesy.\n\n\"Make me a staff of wrought iron,\" he said, \"of five hundred pounds\nin weight.\"\n\n\"We are willing enough to make such a staff,\" said the master smith,\n\"but who will turn the iron? Five hundred pounds is no light weight\neven for a hero.\"\n\n\"Beat away, my merry men,\" said Nikita, \"and I will turn the iron.\" So\nthey beat away and Nikita turned the iron; and when the staff was ready\nNikita took it out into the open field. There he threw it skyward to\na height of ninety feet and let it fall into his hand. As he grasped\nit with his heroic strength, it bent and broke. Then Nikita went back\nto the forge, paid the men for their work, threw the broken pieces of\nrod away, and rode off with a pleased look upon his face. Before long\nhe caught up again with his companions, and they rode onward for three\ndays longer, when once more they came to a forge in the open field.\n\n\"Go ahead again,\" said Nikita, \"and may good go with you. I will go\ninto this forge to smoke a pipe with the blacksmiths.\" Then he went\nin and found twenty-five smiths making the anvils ring.\n\n\"Good-day to you, brothers,\" he bellowed, and at the sound of his\ngreat voice they ceased their hammering and returned his greeting\nwith proper courtesy.\n\n\"Make me a staff of wrought iron,\" he said, \"of a thousand pounds\nin weight.\"\n\n\"We are willing enough,\" said the master smith, \"to make such a staff,\nbut who will turn the iron?\"\n\n\"Beat away, my merry men,\" said Nikita, \"and I will turn the iron.\" So\nthey beat away and Nikita turned the iron; and when the staff was\nready, Nikita took it out into the open field. There he threw it\nskyward to a height of one hundred and fifty feet and let it fall\ninto his hand. As he grasped it with his heroic strength, it bent and\nbroke. Then Nikita went back to the forge, paid the men for their\nwork, threw the broken pieces of the rod away, and rode off with a\npleased look upon his face. Before long he caught up again with his\ncompanions, and they rode onward for three days longer, whence once\nmore they came to a forge in the open field.\n\n\"Go ahead a third time,\" said Nikita, \"and may good go with you. I\nwill go into this forge to smoke a pipe with the blacksmiths.\"\n\nWithin the third forge he found fifty blacksmiths tormenting an old\nman whom they had stretched out upon a large anvil. Ten of these great\nfellows were holding him by the beard with pincers and the forty were\npounding him on his body with hammers.\n\n\"Have mercy, have mercy, good brothers,\" the old man was\nscreaming. \"Leave some life in me to allow me to show how sorry I am.\"\n\n\"Good-day to you all,\" roared Nikita above the din.\n\n\"Good-day to you, brother,\" replied the blacksmiths, pausing in\ntheir work.\n\n\"Why do you use this old man in such a cruel manner?\" asked Nikita.\n\n\"Because he owes each one of us a rouble,\" was the answer, \"and he\nwill not pay. Why should he not be beaten?\"\n\n\"It is a great deal to suffer for fifty roubles,\" said Nikita. \"Here\nis the money. Let the old fellow go in peace.\"\n\n\"Very good, brother,\" said the blacksmiths. \"We do not care who pays\nthe money so long as we get it somewhere, somehow.\" Then they let\nthe old man free, and as soon as they stood aside from the anvil he\nvanished from their sight.\n\nNikita rubbed his eyes and looked round in blank amazement. \"Why,\nwhere is the old man?\" he asked.\n\n\"Oh,\" replied one of the blacksmiths, \"you may look for him in vain\nnow. He is a wizard, and can wriggle out of anything.\"\n\nNikita laughed, and then ordered the blacksmiths to make him a staff\nof iron weighing two thousand pounds. When it was ready he went\nout into the field and threw it upward to a height of three hundred\nfeet. The staff fell into his outstretched hand, which never shook,\nand remained there firmly held.\n\n\"This will do,\" said Nikita. Thereupon he paid the men for their work,\nand rode off quickly after his companions. But as he rode onward he\nheard some one behind him lustily calling out his name, and turning\nin his saddle he saw the old man running quickly after him.\n\n\"Thanks, thanks, many thanks and more thanks again for your help,\"\nsaid the old man. \"For thirty years I lay upon that anvil and\nwas tortured by those fifty fiends. Now will you accept a present\nfrom me in return? Here is a wonderful cap for you. When you put\nit on your head no man will be able to see you, for it is a cap of\ndarkness.\" Nikita thanked the old man warmly, took the cap, and once\nmore galloped on after his companions, whom he overtook after a short\nspace of time. By-and-by they came to a castle which was surrounded\nby a stout iron paling through which there was no gateway.\n\n\"Well,\" said the Terrible Tsar, \"what shall we do now? It is very\nplain, Nikita, that the people of this castle do not intend that any\none should enter.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" asked Nikita. \"That is surely a small difficulty--with\nall due respect to Your Majesty. Now, boys, tear down the paling and\nlet us through.\" So the good fellows got down from their horses and\nbegan to tug and push at the railings with all their heroic strength;\nbut they could not make them budge an inch.\n\n\"Oh, brothers,\" said Nikita. \"I find I am a deep-sea captain of\na crew of river sailors. What I wish to have done I must do for\nmyself. No matter; after all it was I myself who promised to find\nfor the Terrible Tsar a bride who is ruddier than the sun, fairer\nthan the moon, and whiter than snow.\" Nikita leapt from his horse,\nput his heroic hand to the paling and a full length of it lay upon\nthe ground. Through the opening thus made the company rode boldly\nforward. On the green lawn before the great door of the castle they\nquietly set up their white gold-embroidered tents, ate a good meal,\nand then, lying down, slept soundly. But Nikita did not enter one of\nthe tents. He took three old mats, made a little shelter for himself,\nand lay down on the cold hard ground; and Nikita did not sleep,\nbut waited watchfully for what might turn out.\n\nNow when morning dawned, Yelena the Haughty Beauty woke with a sigh\nand looked out through the lattice-window of her room which was\ndecked with ruddy gold, white silver, and fine seed pearls. There\nshe saw upon the lawn the thirteen white tents of the Terrible Tsar,\nand in front of them all a small shelter made of old mats, from which\na pair of very sharp eyes were looking out.\n\n\"Whatever can have happened?\" said Yelena to herself. \"Who are my new\nguests and whence have they come? Why the strong iron paling which\nwas better than a whole army of guards is broken and thrown to the\nground.\" Then she put her haughty head out of the window and cried\nin a voice of heroic rage:\n\n\"Ho, there, guards and protectors! To my rescue! Put these intruders to\na speedy and cruel death while I watch you at your work. Throw their\ncarcases over the iron paling and bring their white gold-embroidered\ntents to me.\"\n\nThen the hero who lived in the castle as the special protector of\nYelena the Haughty Beauty, saddled his great steed and put on his\nbattle armour, on which the morning sun shone brightly, and rode\ntowards the unbidden guests, while the Princess watched from her\nlattice-window to see that her orders were strictly carried out.\n\nNikita sprang from his little shelter and stood boldly in the path\nof the horseman.\n\n\"Who goes?\" he asked.\n\n\"Who asks?\" was the angry reply.\n\nThen Nikita sprang forward, and seizing the hero by the foot,\ndragged him from his horse. Raising his iron staff he gave him one\nall-sufficient blow and said, \"Go now to Yelena the Haughty Beauty;\ntell her to hide her haughtiness and prepare to marry my master the\nTerrible Tsar without further delay.\"\n\nMeanwhile the would-be bridegroom and his young men slept on.\n\nThe bold hero was glad enough to obey the brave wooer, and rode up\nto the castle, where he saluted his mistress with reverence and said:\n\n\"These are men whose might cannot be measured, O Princess. Their\nleader is plainly a man of great weight, and told me to bid you\nhide your haughtiness and prepare to marry the Terrible Tsar without\nfurther delay.\"\n\nThe lady looked down from the window, and as she looked her scorn\nseemed to wither up the hero, horse and all. Then she turned haughtily\nfrom the window, attired herself in her most beautiful garments, and\nwent down to the great hall, where she summoned a band of generals\nand leaders.\n\n\"My brave men,\" she cried in tones of passionate anger, \"get together\na great array and sweep these intruders out of my lawn as the serving\nmaids sweep the court before the great door.\"\n\nThen quickly, very quickly, and with lightning speed, the horsemen rode\nforth from the castle and swept down with a sound of rushing water\nupon the tents of the Terrible Tsar. But they drew rein when Nikita\nstood before them waving his mighty staff; and quickly, very quickly,\nand with lightning speed, they fell and lay dead upon the green lawn.\n\nMeanwhile the would-be bridegroom and his young men slept on.\n\n\"Go back,\" cried Nikita to the first hero, who had kept well out of\nreach of that terrible staff. \"Go back to Yelena the Haughty Beauty\nand tell her not to resist us further. See how I have dealt with your\nmen alone and all by myself! What will it be when the Terrible Tsar\nand his young men awake from sleep? We shall not leave one stone of\nyour castle upon another. You would do well to go back and tell the\nbride to prepare for her wedding.\"\n\nSo the hero went back and told his mistress all that had happened.\n\n\"What is to be, must be,\" she said with outward graciousness. \"I will\ngo to meet this heroic bridegroom in a manner fitting to his warlike\nways.\" So she summoned her heroic bodyguard, and, surrounded by these\nyouths, who carried battle-bows in their hands, she walked proudly\nfrom the front door of the castle towards the tents of white linen\nstanding upon her own green lawn.\n\nNikita saw them coming, and knew without instruction that the kiss\nof the bride would be sharp and stinging. So he put on the Cap of\nDarkness, bent his own bow, shot off a flaming shaft, and knocked\noff the top story of the castle. Yelena the Haughty Beauty bowed\nto her fate, advanced with stately step towards the Terrible Tsar,\ntook him by the hand, and led him within the banquet-hall, where he\nand his company were feasted on the best. When his master had eaten\nwell and drunk just as well, Nikita said in his ear, \"Does the bride\nplease you, or shall we set out to seek a better?\"\n\n\"No, Nikita,\" said the Terrible Tsar with a smile of satisfaction,\n\"let us not go on any more, for the whole white world cannot contain\nbetter fortune than is granted to us here.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" said Nikita, \"haste to your wedding, but beware of your\nbride.\" So the wedding was hastened, and when the feast was over the\nbride came to the bridegroom and laid her hand in affection upon\nhis shoulder. But if this were affection it was heavy affection,\nfor at the weight of her hand the Terrible Tsar felt as if he were\nbeing pushed down bodily into the lap of moist Mother Earth.\n\n\"Is my hand heavy, my lord and master?\" asked the bride sweetly.\n\n\"It is as heavy as a feather on the bosom of the summer lake,\" was\nthe polite reply. \"But, stay, my bride. I have to give an order to\nmy brave troops.\" Then with a great effort he freed himself, and went\nout into the next room where Nikita was awaiting him.\n\n\"Ah, Nikita,\" said the Terrible Tsar in great distress, \"what shall\nI do? The hand of my bride is heavier than the staff of Ilya of Murom.\"\n\nThen Nikita put on his Cap of Darkness and went back into the room\nwith the Terrible Tsar, and as often as Yelena laid her hand upon\nhis master in affection, he stepped in the way and bore the weight of\nit. So they went on all the time that the Terrible Tsar stayed in the\ncastle for the wedding festivity, which lasted for a week. But before\nthe week was over Yelena the Haughty Beauty knew that her people were\nlaughing at her because she had married a man whose strength was as\nnothing but who relied always upon Nikita; and she planned in her\nheart a terrible revenge.\n\n\"We have feasted enough,\" said the Terrible Tsar at the end of the\nfestival week. \"It is time for us to go homeward and we shall go\nby water.\"\n\nSo a glorious ship was prepared, and the bridal party went on\nboard. The sails were set, and the ship put out from the harbour with\na fair wind and a bright sun. The Terrible Tsar was very happy in\nhis good fortune, but the haughty bride made merry to his face and\nplotted behind his back. As for Nikita he fell into a heroic sleep\nand slept for twelve whole days and nights.\n\nWhen Yelena saw him sleeping she summoned her trusty bodyguard and\nordered them to cut off his legs to the knee, put him all maimed into\na boat, and cast it out upon the open sea. They did so; and on the\nthirteenth day Nikita awoke from his heroic sleep to find himself\nlying footless in an open boat far out upon the sea with no ship in\nsight anywhere.\n\nMeanwhile the bridal ship sailed on its way with a fair wind and\na bright sun, and at last it entered the harbour of the royal city\nof the Terrible Tsar. Then the cannon gave the sign, and the people\nran down to the wharves, where the nobles and the chief merchants,\nwith the Elder at their head, offered bread and salt to their royal\nmaster, and greeted him with compliments on his marriage with a bride\nso beautiful and so stately. And the Terrible Tsar was so busy for a\nlong time in feasting and smiling, giving presents and receiving them,\nthat he forgot all about Nikita.\n\nBut when the feast was over the haughty bride took the rule of the\nkingdom upon herself, and forced the Terrible Tsar to go out into the\nfields to herd the pigs! Then she gave orders that all the relatives of\nNikita should be brought before her at the royal palace. Her soldiers\nfound only one, Timothy, the brother of Nikita, and by order of the\nTerrible Tsaritza his eyes were put out and he was driven from the\ntown into the green fields.\n\nThe blind man went on with his hands spread out before him, onward and\never onward until he came to the seashore and found the water beneath\nhis feet. Then he halted and stood still, fearing to go forward. But\nas he stood there with his sightless eyes turned towards the heaving\nwaters of the deep blue sea a boat was quickly borne towards the\nbeach and a cheery voice called out: \"Ho, good fellow! Help me to\nland in your fine country.\"\n\n\"I would gladly do so, friend,\" was the sad reply, \"but, truth to tell,\nI am without sight and see nothing.\"\n\n\"But who are you and whence do you come?\" asked Nikita.\n\n\"I am Timothy, the brother of Nikita,\" said the blind man, \"whose\neyes have been darkened by Yelena the Haughty Beauty.\"\n\n\"My own and very true brother,\" said Nikita cheerily. \"Turn, Timothy,\nto the right hand where you will find a tall oak growing. Pull out\nthe oak, bring it here, and stretch it from the shore across the\nwater. Then I will mount upon it and so come to you in safety.\"\n\nTimothy did as his brother directed and made a bridge of the tall\noak so that Nikita could creep on shore, where he took Timothy in\nhis arms and kissed him heartily.\n\n\"Ah, brother,\" he said, \"how is it now with the Terrible Tsar?\"\n\n\"He found his bride,\" said Timothy, \"and she is indeed ruddier than\nthe sun, fairer than the moon, and whiter than snow, but her heart\nis as black as night. The Terrible Tsar is now in great misfortune\nfor he is herding his own pigs in the field! Each morning he has for\nbreakfast a pound of sour bread, a jug of frozen water, and three\nstripes upon his back!\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Nikita. \"We now have indeed a Terrible Tsaritza.\"\n\nThen the two brothers began to discuss their present condition and\ntheir future plans, and of course Nikita was full of ideas. \"Brother\nof mine,\" he said brightly, \"you cannot see my condition so I must\ntell you that I am footless. Now as you are blind it seems to me that\nthere is only one sound man between us. My plan is that you should\ncarry me upon your back while I will tell you where to go.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" said the blind man, kneeling down at once so that\nhis brother could get upon his back. Then he walked onward with his\nnew burden, onward and ever onward, turning to the right hand or to\nthe left as his brother directed him. After a long time they came\nto a dense forest in which stood the pine-wood cabin of the wicked\nBaba-Yaga.\n\nNikita directed his brother towards this hut, and the two in\none entered the home of the wicked Baba-Yaga, but found no one\ninside. \"Feel in the oven, brother,\" said Nikita, \"perhaps there is\nsome food there.\" Sure enough they found hot savoury food in the oven\nand they sat down to the table and had a good meal, for the sea air had\nmade them both very hungry. When they were fully satisfied Nikita asked\nhis brother to carry him round the cabin in order that he might examine\neverything that was to be found in it. On the window-sill he found\na small whistle, and, putting this to his lips, began to blow. The\nshrill sound had a marvellous effect, for, whether he would or would\nnot, Timothy began to dance, the cabin also began to dance, the table\ndanced, the chairs danced, and even the stove took to its nimble feet.\n\n\"Stop, Nikita,\" cried Timothy at last, for he was utterly exhausted,\n\"I can no longer dance with such a burden upon my back.\" So Nikita\nstopped whistling, and as the last note died away everything settled\ndown in quiet once again. Then when all was still the door was suddenly\nopened and the wicked Baba-Yaga entered her cottage.\n\nWhen she saw the two in one she screamed out with a loud voice:\n\n\"You beggars and thieves! Up to this time not even a bird or a beast\nhad come to my lonely dwelling, and now you have come to devour my\nfood and loosen the very props of my little cottage. But very soon,\nand indeed sooner than that, I will settle with you.\"\n\n\"Hold the wicked old witch, Timothy,\" cried Nikita, and the blind\nman caught her in his arms and squeezed her very hard. Then Nikita\nseized her by the hair, and she was ready enough to make all kinds\nof promises to win her freedom.\n\n\"We want nothing,\" said Nikita, who had still more ideas in his head,\n\"but your whistle and healing and living water. I have the whistle\nalready, and if you will give us the water, you shall go free once\nmore into the white world.\"\n\n\"That I can, and will since I must,\" said the Baba-Yaga.\n\n\"That you shall and are obliged to,\" replied Nikita.\n\nThen the old witch led them to two springs and said:\n\n\"Here for your benefit is healing and living water.\" Nikita took of\nthe healing water and sprinkled his stumps, whereupon his feet grew\nout as they had been before, but they would not move. So he sprinkled\nthem next with living water, and they were made sound and whole as\nthey had been before.\n\nGuided by his brother, the blind man stooped to the spring of healing\nwater and bathed the hollow sockets of his eyes. Then eyeballs came\ninto them as they had been before, but they could not see. So he\nsprinkled them next with living water and they were made sound and\nuseful as they had been before.\n\nThe brothers thanked the wicked Baba-Yaga and gave her a gift in\nexchange for her help and her whistle of which Nikita had need,\nbut she grunted and said, \"I could, and I would, and I did because\nI must.\" Then she went off to her cottage and the restored men took\ntheir way to the city of the Terrible Tsar for Nikita had another\nbright idea. In a field outside the palace they found the Terrible\nTsar herding pigs, whereupon Nikita began to blow on the whistle and\nthe pigs began to dance, for their ancestors had come from the herd of\nthe wicked Baba-Yaga. Yelena the Haughty Beauty saw what was happening\nfrom the window, but she did not laugh, for she was not a woman of\nthat kind. She only rose in all her haughty beauty and gave a stern\ncommand to her servants to take a bunch of rods and beat the pig-herd\nand the two strangers who were standing near him. At once the guards\nran out and brought them to the castle to give them the punishment\nthey deserved for their lack of gravity. This was just what Nikita\ndesired, for he ran forward and seizing Yelena by her lily-white\nhands in a grasp no man or woman could ever resist, he cried:\n\n\"Now, Terrible Tsar, what shall I do with the Terrible Tsaritza?\"\n\n\"Send her home,\" said the poor worried monarch, \"out of my sight.\" So\nthey sent her away to her own castle, where she spent all her time\nin admiring her beauty in the mirror until she died of dulness. But\nNikita was made chief minister, and Timothy a general, and the Terrible\nTsar did whatever they wished him to do from that day forward.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPEERLESS BEAUTY THE CAKE-BAKER\n\n\nIn a far-off land lived a Tsar and a Tsaritza who had one son,\nwhom they named Ivan. They were very glad when he was born, and\nplaced him in a beautiful oaken cradle among pillows of the softest\ndown, covering him with a little eider-down quilt of silk from\nSamarcand. The pillow on which rested his little head was ornamented\nwith drawn-thread work and all was cosy and comfortable, but try\nas they would the nurse-maidens--and they were pretty ladies of the\nhighest degree--could not rock Ivan Tsarevich to sleep. Softly they\nsang and sweetly they crooned, but the young prince roared lustily,\ntossed off the coverlet, kicked out the pillow, and beat the sides\nof the cradle with his little fists.\n\nAt last the nurse-maidens lost all patience and they cried out to the\nTsar, \"Little Father, Little Father, come and rock your own son.\" So\nthe Tsar sat down by the side of the cradle, placed his great toe\nupon the rocker, and said:\n\n\"Sleep, little son, sleep, sleep, sleep. Soon you will be a man, and\nthen I will get you Peerless Beauty as a bride. She is the daughter\nof three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers, and the\nsister of nine brothers.\"\n\nHe made this promise once only, and it had such a soothing effect upon\nthe restless Tsarevich that he went to sleep and continued sleeping\nfor three days and three nights, during which time the nurse-maidens\nsat and praised his beauty among themselves. But they ceased talking\nas soon as he woke up again, for now he cried more loudly than ever,\ntossed off the coverlet, kicked out the pillow, and beat the sides\nof the cradle with his little fists.\n\nOnce again the nurse-maidens tried to console him and to rock him to\nsleep, for they loved and admired him best in his slumbers; but he\nrefused to sleep, and they were forced to call out, \"Little Father,\nLittle Father, come and rock your own son.\"\n\nThe Tsar came once more to the cradle of his son and made the wonderful\npromise, whereupon the child fell asleep again and slept for three\ndays and three nights.\n\nBut when he woke up he was as naughty as before, and for a third time\nthe nurse-maidens had to call in the help of the Little Father.\n\nWhen the Tsarevich awoke the third time he stood upon his cradle and\nsaid, \"Bless me, Little Father, for I am going to my wedding.\"\n\n\"My dear son,\" said the Tsar in great wonderment, \"you are altogether\nonly nine days old. How can you marry?\"\n\n\"That shall be as it is,\" said the Tsarevich, \"and if you will not\ngive me your blessing I fear I must marry without it.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" said the Tsar, \"may all good go with you.\" Then he was\nnot in the least surprised to see his son step down from the cradle\na full-grown youth of goodly shape, call for clothes suitable to his\nage--they were all ready to hand--and then go forth to the stable. On\nthe way across the courtyard he met an old man who looked at him\nand said:\n\n\"Young man, where are you going?\"\n\n\"Mind your own business,\" said the young prince. But when he had\ngone forward a little he stopped and said to himself, \"That was a\nmistake. Old people know many useful things.\" So he turned again and\nwent after the old man.\n\n\"Stop, stop, grandfather,\" he said, \"what was the question which you\nput to me?\"\n\n\"I asked you,\" said the ancient, \"where you were going, and now I add\nto my question. Are you going there of your own free will or against\nyour will?\"\n\n\"I am going of my own free will,\" said the Tsarevich, \"and twice\nas much against my will. I was in my cradle when my father came to\nme and promised to get me Peerless Beauty as a bride. She is the\ndaughter of three mothers, the granddaughter of three grandmothers,\nand the sister of nine brothers. So I suppose I must go to seek her.\"\n\n\"You are a courteous youth,\" said the old man, \"and deserve to take\nadvantage of the knowledge of the aged. You cannot go on foot to seek\nout Peerless Beauty, for she lives at the edge of the white world at\nthe place where the sun peeps up. It is called the Golden Kingdom of\nthe East.\"\n\n\"What shall I do?\" asked the Tsarevich, thrusting his hands into his\nbelt and standing with feet wide apart. \"I have no horse of mettle\nor whip of silk for such a ride.\"\n\n\"Why, your father has thirty horses of the best,\" said the old man,\n\"and the trouble with you will be to make a wise choice. Go to the\nstables and tell the grooms to take the thirty to bathe in the deep\nblue sea. When they come to the shore you will see one of them push\nforward into the water up to its neck and drink. When this happens\nwatch with care to see if the waves rise high and break in foam upon\nthe beach. If so, take that horse, for it will bear you safely to\nthe edge of the white world and to the place where the sun peeps up,\nwhich is called the Golden Kingdom of the East.\"\n\n\"Thanks and thanks again, good grandfather,\" said the Tsarevich, who\nwent on to the stables and selected his heroic steed in the manner\ndescribed by the old man. On the following morning the Tsarevich\nwas preparing this horse for the journey when it turned its head and\nspoke to him in the speech of Holy Russia:\n\n\"Ivan Tsarevich,\" it said, \"fall down upon the lap of moist Mother\nEarth and I will push you three times.\" The youth was so much\nastonished to hear the horse speak that he found it no difficult matter\nto fall down. Then the horse pushed him once and pushed him a second\ntime, but after that it looked at the youth for a little time and said,\n\"That will suffice, for if I push you a third time moist Mother Earth\nwill not be able to bear you.\" So the Tsarevich rose to his feet,\nsaddled his horse, and set out. His father and those about him saw\nhim as he mounted, but they did not see him as he rode. It was only\na smoke wreath on the open boundless plain and he was gone. Far, far\naway he rode until the day grew short and the long night came on. As\nthe darkness fell the rider came to a house as large as a town, with\nrooms each as big as a village. At the great door he got down from his\nhorse and tied the bridle to a copper ring in the door-post. Then he\nwent into the first room and said to an old woman whom he found there:\n\n\"May God be good to this house. I should be glad to be permitted to\nspend the night here.\"\n\n\"Where are you journeying?\" asked the old woman.\n\n\"That is not the first question,\" said the Tsarevich. \"Give me food\nto eat and wine to drink, then put me next into a warm sleeping\nchamber. In the morning ask me whether I have slept in peace and\nthen ask where I may be journeying.\" And the old woman did so, just\nas the Tsarevich had said.\n\nNext morning she asked him the second question and he replied,\n\"I was in my cradle when my father came to me and promised to get me\nPeerless Beauty as a bride. She is the daughter of three mothers, the\ngranddaughter of three grandmothers, and the sister of nine brothers.\"\n\n\"Good youth,\" said the old woman, \"I am nearly seventy years of age,\nbut of Peerless Beauty I have never heard. But farther on the way\nlives my elder sister. Perhaps she knows.\" Then Ivan Tsarevich went\nout of the great house, and, after taking courteous leave of the\nold woman, rode far away across the open steppe. All day he rode,\nand as night was coming on he came to a second house as large as\na town, with each room as large as a village. He dismounted from\nhis horse, tied the bridle to a silver ring in the door-post, and\nasked an old woman whom he met in the first room if he might have\na night's lodging. And here it happened as it had happened before,\nonly the old woman was eighty years of age.\n\n\"Farther on the road,\" she said, \"lives my elder sister and she\nhas givers of answers. The first givers of answers are the fishes\nand other dwellers in the heaving restless sea; the second givers\nof answers are the wild beasts of the dark forests; and the third\ngivers of answers are the birds of the open air. Whatever is in the\nwhole white world is obedient to the will of my elder sister.\"\n\nOnce again Ivan Tsarevich set out and came to a house where he tied\nhis horse to a golden ring, and was received by an old, old woman\nwho screamed at him in a voice like a flock of peacocks:\n\n\"O you man of boldness, why have you tied your horse to a golden ring\nwhen an iron ring would be too good for you?\"\n\n\"Patience, good grandmother,\" said the Tsarevich gently, \"it is easy\nto loose the bridle and tie the horse to another ring.\"\n\n\"Ah, my good youth,\" said the old woman gently, and as one would speak\nto a child, \"did I frighten you? Sit down now on the bench and take\nfood and drink.\" Ivan did so, and then without being asked he told\nthe old woman where he was going and what was his quest.\n\n\"Go to your rest,\" she said shortly. \"In the morning I will call my\ngivers of answers.\"\n\nNext morning the old woman and the young man sat in the porch, and the\nformer gave a heroic whistle, whereupon the blue sea heaved in a great\nheap, and the fishes, large and small, sea-serpents and sea-dragons,\nrose upon the surface and made for the shore.\n\n\"Come no farther,\" said the old woman, raising her right hand. \"Tell\nme where this good youth can find Peerless Beauty.\" Then the answer\ncame from a million mouths, \"We have not seen or heard of her.\"\n\nThe old woman blew her whistle and the forests echoed to the sound of\na million voices of wild beasts, but the answer to her question was,\n\"We have not seen or heard of her.\"\n\n\"Come hither,\" said the grandmother, \"all ye birds of the air.\" And\nin a moment the light of the sun was hidden and the sound of flapping\nwings was like a tempest. But the answer of the birds to the question\nwas, \"We have not seen or heard of her.\"\n\n\"My givers of answers fail me,\" said the ancient woman as she took\nIvan by the lily-white hand and led him into the house. Then there\nflew through the open window the Mogol Bird which fell to the ground\nat her feet.\n\n\"Ah, Mogol Bird,\" said the old woman, \"whither hast thou come?\"\n\n\"I come from the home of Peerless Beauty,\" was the tired reply,\n\"and I have been dressing her for Mass in the Cathedral.\"\n\nThe old woman clapped her hands in delight. \"That is the news I seek,\"\nshe said. \"Now, Mogol Bird, do me a favour. Carry this young man,\nIvan Tsarevich, to the home of Peerless the Beauty.\"\n\n\"That I will,\" was the reply, \"but we shall need a great deal of food.\"\n\n\"How much?\" asked the old woman.\n\n\"Three hundredweight of beef,\" was the answer, \"and a keg full\nof water.\"\n\nIvan filled a large keg with water and placed it upon the back of the\nMogol Bird with the heaped-up piles of beef round about it. Then he\nran to the forge and told the smith to make him a long iron lance,\nand with this weapon in his hand he sat on the edge of the keg with\nthe beef all round about him. Up rose the Mogol Bird and once it was\nunder way it flew so steadily that the top of the water in the keg\nremained always level, but now and again the bird would slowly turn\nits head and look at Ivan, when he would at once give it a large\npiece of beef upon the point of his long iron lance.\n\nOnward, and ever onward, flew the Mogol Bird, feeding on the beef and\ndrinking the water from Ivan's cap, which he extended at the point\nof his lance, until all the meat and water were finished, whereupon\nthe Tsarevich threw the keg overboard.\n\n\"O Mogol Bird,\" he said, \"haste to finish your journey, for there is\nno more beef and there is no more water.\"\n\n\"I cannot go down to earth in this spot,\" said the bird, \"for beneath\nus there is nothing but a bog like glue. And I must have more meat. If\nyou cannot get beef, veal will do.\" So Ivan cut off the calves of his\nown legs, and when the bird had refreshed itself it flew on till it\ncame to a green meadow with tall silken grass and blue flowers. Here\nit flew down to earth, and Ivan alighted, but, of course, walked\nvery lame.\n\n\"What makes you halt, Ivan Tsarevich?\" asked the Mogol Bird, and when\nthe young man told what he had done the bird blew upon the back of\nhis legs and restored him to his former condition.\n\nOn went the young man, eager to finish his quest, until he came to a\ngreat town, where he entered a narrow street and found an old woman\nin a poor, mean house, who seemed to be expecting him.\n\n\"Go to bed and sleep soundly after your flight, Ivan,\" she said,\n\"and when the bell rings I will call you.\"\n\nThe young man lay down and slept soundly, so soundly that when the bell\nrang for early morning prayers not all the calling nor all the shaking,\nnor all the shouting nor all the beating could rouse him. Then the bell\nrang again for Mass, and the old grandmother tried once more, calling,\nshaking, shouting, beating, but all with no result, until she took\na tiny feather and tickled the sleeper's nose. Then he awoke with a\nstart, washed himself very clean, dressed himself very carefully, and\nwent to Mass in the cathedral. He bowed first to the high altar, then\nto North, South, East, and West, and especially to Peerless Beauty,\nwho knelt alone in the church. So Ivan Tsarevich knelt beside her and\nthen stood beside her while she prayed. When the service was over the\nyoung man looked at Peerless Beauty, and looked again and yet again\nwithout speaking, and while he looked six brave heroes came up from\nthe sea-shore and stood at the great door of the cathedral. Peerless\nBeauty went to meet them with Ivan Tsarevich close behind her.\n\n\"What country clown is this?\" cried the brave heroes, but Ivan\nstepped before Peerless Beauty and swung his right arm in a circle\nthree times round; and when he stopped the heroes were lying at the\nfeet of the Princess in a heap of confusion.\n\nThen Ivan Tsarevich went back to the old grandmother, who put\nhim to bed. On the second day it all fell out as on the first\noccasion. Peerless Beauty looked at Ivan as he knelt in silence by\nher side, and as she looked she blushed. On the third day it all\nfell out as on the first in every particular except that when Ivan\nentered the church Peerless Beauty gave him a silent salutation and\nthen came and stood at his left hand; and when the young man had laid\nlow six more scornful heroes Peerless Beauty took him by the hand,\nand together, without a word, they went up to the priest and took\nthe golden crowns. After that they went home and feasted, and then\nprepared to set out for the home of Ivan Tsarevich. Over the open\nboundless plain they rode, speaking little, but looking much and\nsmiling frequently, until Peerless Beauty grew weary and lay down\nto rest, while Ivan Tsarevich guarded her slumber. When she awoke\nrefreshed the bridegroom said:\n\n\"Now guard my slumbers, Peerless Beauty, for I am very weary.\"\n\n\"Will your sleep be short or long?\" asked the bride.\n\n\"I shall sleep,\" said Ivan, \"for no longer and no shorter than nine\ndays and nine nights. If you try to arouse me I shall not wake,\nbut when the end of the time comes I shall wake without any arousing.\"\n\n\"I shall be weary of waiting and watching, Ivan Tsarevich,\" said\nPeerless Beauty with a sigh.\n\n\"Weary or not, it cannot be set aside or gainsaid or altered,\" said\nIvan Tsarevich. Then he lay down and slept for nine days and nine\nnights. And while he slept there came a rushing whirlwind across the\nopen steppe, and in the heart of the whirlwind, where was the point of\npeace, rested Koschei Who Never Dies, who bore away Peerless Beauty\nto his kingdom beyond the sea. And Ivan Tsarevich awoke without any\narousing to find himself alone.\n\nSadly he gazed across the empty boundless plain, and when he arose,\nwent back to the town, sought out the old woman in the poor, mean\nhouse, who seemed to be expecting him, and told her all his tale\nof sadness.\n\n\"I had all things,\" he said, \"and now I have nothing.\"\n\n\"Go to bed and sleep soundly after your sorrow, Ivan,\" she said, and\nhe went to bed, but could sleep neither soundly nor restlessly. But\nat midnight there came a rushing whirlwind across the open steppe,\nand in the heart of the whirlwind, where was the point of peace,\nrested Koschei Who Never Dies, who bore away Ivan Tsarevich to his\nkingdom beyond the sea.\n\nAt the gate of the palace Ivan knocked--tock, tock--and the wicket-gate\nin the large gate was opened by Peerless Beauty, who peeped out with\neyes like violets wet with the rain, and cheeks like roses in the\nmorning sun, and a brow like a seed pearl of priceless lustre. She\nopened the little wicket-gate wide, and Ivan stepped in. Then they\nwent to an upper room, where the bridegroom said to the bride:\n\n\"When Koschei comes home, ask him where his death is.\"\n\nThen Koschei came in at one door and Ivan went out at another door.\n\n\"Phu! phu!\" said Koschei Who Never Dies, \"I smell the blood of a\nRussian. Was it Ivan Tsarevich who was with you just now, at this\nmoment, and recently?\"\n\n\"Why, Koschei Who Never Dies,\" said Peerless Beauty clasping her hands,\n\"Ivan Tsarevich has long ago been devoured by wild beasts of the plain,\nat least it must have been so and not otherwise.\" So they sat down\nto supper, and when Koschei had eaten well and drunk better Peerless\nBeauty said to him, \"Tell me, now, Koschei, where is your death?\"\n\n\"It is tied up in the broom, silly one,\" said Koschei; \"why do you\nwish to know?\"\n\nNext morning Koschei Who Never Dies went out at the head of his\nmen to fight, and as soon as he had gone Ivan Tsarevich came to\nPeerless Beauty and kissed her sugar lips. Then she took the broom\nfrom the corner near the stove and gilded it all over with pure beaten\ngold. When this was done--and it took a long time to cover each twig\nof the birch boughs with the gold--Ivan left his bride and Koschei\nWho Never Dies came in by another door.\n\n\"Phu! phu!\" he said, \"I smell the blood of a Russian. Was it Ivan\nTsarevich who was with you just now, at this moment, and recently?\"\n\n\"Why, Koschei Who Never Dies,\" said Peerless Beauty clasping her\nhands, \"you have been flying through Russia and have caught up\nthe odour of the country on your own garments. Where should I see\nIvan Tsarevich?\" Then they sat down to supper, and Koschei saw the\ngilded broom lying across the threshold. \"What does this mean?\" he\nasked sternly.\n\n\"See how I honour you,\" said Peerless Beauty, \"for I gild even Death\nfor you.\"\n\n\"Little simpleton, I fooled you,\" said Koschei. \"My death is not in\nthe broom, but is concealed in the oak fence.\"\n\nNext day it fell out as before. Peerless Beauty, helped by Ivan\nTsarevich, gilded the fence, and when Koschei saw it burning like\nfire in the evening sun, he laughed and said to Peerless Beauty:\n\n\"Little simpleton, I fooled you. My death is in an egg, the egg is\nin a downy duck, and the duck is in the stump of a tree which floats\nupon the open sea.\"\n\nNext day Peerless Beauty rose very early, before the sun was up, and\nwent to the stove in the kitchen. \"I must send Ivan Tsarevich,\" she\nsaid, \"on the long search for that downy duck. He has a long way to go,\nso I must bake him a love cake.\" So she baked him not one love cake\nbut three, and as she kneaded the dough, she spoke a love-spell into\nit so that Ivan Tsarevich should fare well on his journey. The cakes\nwere browned and buttered and wrapped in a napkin of fine white linen,\nwith edges of drawn thread-work, when Ivan came into the kitchen just\nas the sun rose. Then he put his arms about the cake-baker, and she\nwhispered into his ear where to look for the death of Koschei. And\nIvan kissed her honey mouth and went out with the cakes in his pouch.\n\nOnward he went and ever onward, until he came to the margin of the\nocean sea, and then he knew not how to go farther. He had eaten all\nthe cakes and was very hungry, so very hungry that when a hawk flew\nup above his head, he cried: \"Hawk, hawk, I will shoot you dead and\neat you without cooking.\"\n\n\"Why eat me?\" asked the hawk in the speech of Holy Russia, \"I can be\nof good service to you.\"\n\nThen a great bear came shambling along with its fore-paws turned\ninwards to show that it was a bear of good breeding. \"Bear, bear,\"\nsaid Ivan, \"I will shoot you dead and eat you without cooking.\"\n\n\"Why eat me?\" asked the bear in the speech of Holy Russia, \"I can be\nof good service to you.\"\n\nThen Ivan saw a great pike leap from the ocean sea and lie floundering\nupon the shingle shore. \"Pike, pike,\" said he, \"I will kill you and\neat you without cooking.\"\n\n\"Better, far better, and much the best,\" said the pike, \"if you cast\nme into the sea.\"\n\n\"It seems to me,\" said Ivan Tsarevich, \"that the cakes of Peerless\nBeauty have wrought a spell, and that I am to have nothing further\nto eat. Well, then, in the strength of those cakes I will go on with\nit.\" So he flung the floundering pike back into the ocean sea, and\nwhen it splashed the great water boiled up and began to race along\nand up the shore so quickly that Ivan was forced to run before it\nwith all his might and main.\n\nOnward he ran and ever onward, with the water racing at his heels and\noccasionally washing them. [1] Onward he ran and ever upward, until\nhe came to a tall tree upon a high bank of sand. Upward he climbed\nand ever upward, and then saw that now the waters of the ocean sea\nwere quickly falling; and when they had gone back within their own\nboundaries Ivan saw that they had left high up on the shore a huge\nstump of a tree.\n\nThe bear ran up, raised the stump in its arms, and hugged it until\nit cracked--snap, smash--and from the inside of it flew out a downy\nduck, which soared high and ever higher, until it looked like a dark\ngreen bottle with a long neck. Then the hawk flew up and caught it,\nwhereupon an egg fell into the sea, which was caught by the pike,\nwhich swam to the beach and laid it gently at Ivan's feet.\n\nThe young man placed the egg in the warm napkin within his pouch\nand ran forward, ever forward, until he came to Peerless Beauty,\nwho was stooping over the stove in the kitchen. Ivan put his arms\nabout the cake-baker, who grasped his hands and pressed them; and\nwhen she stood upright the egg was in her left palm.\n\nIvan turned and saw Koschei sitting on the window ledge and scowling at\nhim, because he expected that the cakes and baked meats that Peerless\nBeauty was cooking were all for him. But as the two rushed to the grip,\nPeerless Beauty dropped the egg upon the stove. It broke, and as the\nshell cracked, Koschei's heart broke also, and he fell down dead.\n\nThen the bride and bridegroom went to the eating room, and Ivan\nTsarevich feasted on cakes and baked meats which Peerless Beauty had\nprepared when he was on his journey to the ocean sea; and after that\nthey went to the country of Ivan's father, who rubbed his eyes when\nhe saw them and said, \"Why, Ivan Tsarevich left home when he was\nonly nine days old, and now he brings Peerless Beauty to me as my\ndaughter. Well, I never!\"\n\n\"Well, we never!\" cried the nurse-maidens in a chorus, as they ran\nto get ready for the second wedding, which was to be celebrated with\ngreat splendour. \"Really, we never did! Whoever would have thought it?\"\n\n\n\nThere is very little doubt that Ivan Tsarevich was the first \"nine\ndays' wonder\" that ever was.\n\n\n                                THE END\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTE\n\n\n[1] No doubt this was the first person who ever showed \"a clean pair\nof heels.\"","title":"The Russian story book : $b containing tales from the song-cycles of Kiev and Novgorod and other early sources","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":69098}