{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_66643/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_66643","id":"gutenberg_66643","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/66643","summary":null,"tags":["Byliny","Category: Children & Young Adult Reading","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Russian Literature","Legends -- Russia (Federation)"],"text":"BYLINY BOOK\n                          HERO TALES OF RUSSIA\n\n\n                        Told from the Russian by\n                        MARION CHILTON HARRISON\n\n                         With Illustrations by\n                           MRS. HUGH STEWART\n\n\n                               CAMBRIDGE:\n                         W. HEFFER & SONS LTD.\n                                  1915\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThis is a Byliny Book. What does \u201cByliny\u201d mean? It is a Russian word,\nand it means stories about What-has-Been, what happened in Russia in\nthe old days long ago. We all read about the Greek heroes Jason and\nPerseus and Theseus and Heracles. The Russians had splendid heroes too,\nwho met with wonderful adventures. Russia and France and Italy and\nEngland are fighting side by side a great fight for freedom, and these\nold heroes of Russia fought for freedom too, against great barbarian\narmies of Huns and Tartars. The Russians are our brave friends, our\n\u201cAllies,\u201d as we call them now, and it is good to get to know about\ntheir heroes of olden times.\n\nWe all know and honour our French Allies, and most of us try to speak\nFrench. We are proud to read in history how our William the Conqueror\ncame over from France and brought with him many good laws and customs,\nand, best of all, beautiful French words that have now become\nEnglish\u2014why, the very word beauty came to us from France. But Russia is\nmuch further away than France, and very few of us learn to speak\nRussian, or even to read it.\n\nFar the best way to get to know people is to learn their language, but\nit is not quite so easy to learn to read Russian as it is to read\nFrench, because the Russians use different letters. You will see\nRussian letters in the pictures [1]; they are beautiful, delightful\nthings and some of them are like English, so it is exciting to try and\nmake them out, but some of them are like Greek, for the Russians always\nliked the Greeks better than the Romans.\n\nThe Russian names of the heroes look a little strange at first, but\nthey are not really hard to pronounce. There are a great many Russian\nheroes, but this book only tells about four of them, Volg\u00e1 and Mik\u00fala\nand Svyatog\u00f3r and Ily\u00e1. The Volg\u00e1 is quite short and easy, and so is\nMik\u00fala, which is pronounced as if it was written Mik\u00f3olla. Svyatog\u00f3r\nlooks rather hard, but you only have to remember to say it like\nthis\u2014Svy\u0103t\u0103g\u00f3rr, and you must roll the r\u2019s as if you were a Scotsman.\nThe Russians put the accent on the end of their words much oftener than\nthe English. We say \u012a\u0301-v\u0103n and they say Eev\u00e1hn. And so it is with the\nlast hero, Ily\u00e1; he is pronounced Eely\u0101\u0301h. Besides the heroes, there is\nVlad\u00edmir the king, and he is called Vlad\u00e9emir. The only really hard\nword to say right is Byliny itself, and that you can call Bw\u012dl\u00e9eny, but\nour English lips do not make quite the Russian sound.\n\nThese heroes Volg\u00e1 and Ily\u00e1 and the rest lived very long ago, and their\ngreat city was not Petrograd but Kiev (Kieff). Petrograd means \u201cPeter\u2019s\nfortified town,\u201d and we all know how till the war it used to be called\nPeters-burg. But if you look on the map you will find no Petrograd,\nonly Kiev on the river Dnieper, which winds down to the Black Sea. The\nold Russian heroes used to sail down the river on through the Black Sea\ndown to Constantinople, and there of course they met the Greeks, and\nthe Greeks taught them to be Christians. That was in the days of good\nKing Vlad\u00edmir, and he was reigning before our William the Conqueror,\nhundreds of years before Peter the Great came to Holland and England\nand learnt to build boats, and made the great city of Petrograd.\n\nBut though the heroes lived so long ago, they are never forgotten. The\nRussian children in the village schools learn about Volg\u00e1 and Ily\u00e1 as\nsoon as they can read, and old minstrels in far away villages beyond\nlake On\u00e9ga and even in Siberia sing the Byliny, the songs of\nWhat-has-Been to the peasants as they sit round the fire at night. I\nhave seen a picture of one of these singers, an old peasant over\nseventy, with a long white beard and shaggy hair and bright deep-set\neyes. He could not write or read, and his voice was rather cracked, but\nwhen he sang the old songs he was all on fire, and he sang them so\nsplendidly that the villagers crowded round to hear. The old men say\nthat the young ones will not learn to sing the songs because they are\ngramotnye, \u201cgrammar-people,\u201d who read books and learn to write\u2014what a\npity.\n\nA learned Russian called Hilferding went to North Russia to live among\nthe peasants and listen to these stories. The peasants are very poor,\nand are shy with strangers, but they learned to love and trust\nHilferding, and sang their songs to him. It is nice to know that he was\nable to help the peasants, and get them a little more money and food.\nOther learned men had been before Hilferding, but nearly all the\nstories in this book were collected by him, so we like to remember his\nname.\n\nIt is the peasants who sing the Byliny, not the nobles, and two of the\ngreatest Russian heroes, Ily\u00e1 and Mik\u00fala, are peasants\u2019 sons. Mik\u00fala is\na ploughman. It sounds strange to us that a ploughman should be a hero;\nbut the Russians did not feel like that. They love their land with all\ntheir hearts. Some of it has very black fertile soil, but some of it is\nvery hard and full of stones, and sometimes of forests to be cleared,\nand the man who does all this is a hero. The Russians sing a hymn to\nthe honour of Mik\u00fala; it ends \u201cGlory to thee, good Mik\u00fala, the peasant\nwho worked.\u201d In one of the pictures you see Volg\u00e1, the prince, come to\nbeg Mik\u00fala to leave his plough and join his warriors. Mik\u00fala was sad,\nbut a man must leave even his work to defend his country. Mik\u00fala is my\nfavourite of all the heroes.\n\nThe peasant heroes, Mik\u00fala and great Ily\u00e1, are very proud and\nindependent, and sometimes not very respectful to the King; they seem\nto think they are as good as he is, and so they were. It is their\ncountry they love, and their beautiful city of Kiev and its Church, and\nin those old days they had not learned that the King stands for the\ncountry. Ily\u00e1 is always wanting to get to Kiev; you see him on the\ncover of this book, riding up to the Holy City. It is like Jerusalem to\nhim, and he was buried there. But though he dreams of the City, he\nloves the place where he was born, near M\u00farom. M\u00farom is a real place\nstill, with forests round it and a river full of fish. The peasants in\nthe old days owned the land in common, so each village was like a\nlittle kingdom. Ily\u00e1 hates the dog, King K\u00e1lin, because he slays the\nvillagers.\n\nSvyatog\u00f3r\u2019s name means Holy Mountain. He is very strong and huge, like\na mountain, but he is clumsy and rather boastful. He boasted he could\nlift anything, but he soon found he couldn\u2019t. At the end he stops\nboasting, and is good to young Ily\u00e1, and gives him all his strength, so\nthat makes up.\n\nThe hero who really can do everything is Volg\u00e1. He was a prince, not a\npeasant, and he was a mighty hunter, like Nimrod in the Bible; and he\nwas a wizard, too, and could turn himself into a grey wolf. Some people\nsaid his father was a wolf, some said he was a serpent. The story says\n\u201cdamp earth was his cradle,\u201d and that sounds uncomfortable, but the\nRussians always call the earth \u201cdamp earth.\u201d They mean that the rain\nhas rained on it, and that it is not hard and dry, but full of sap like\nthe trees. Volg\u00e1 learnt all his wisdom from the beasts and birds. S.\nFrancis used to preach to the birds, but Volg\u00e1 let the beasts and birds\npreach to him, and that is better, for the Bible says:\n\n\n    Ask now the beasts and they shall teach thee;\n    And the fowls of the air and they shall tell thee.\n\n\nThe first story is about Volg\u00e1, and in the first picture you see him\nlistening to a wise old Bear.\n\n\n    Jane Ellen Harrison.\n\n\n\nThis book is for children, and is no place for bibliography, but we\nshould like to own our debt to three books. Chudinov\u2019s Byliny in the\n\u201cRussian School Library\u201d was our first introduction (in Russian) to the\nhero-tales; but for Rambaud\u2019s La Russie \u00c9pique it would have been\ndifficult to put the stories together; and, last, to the kindness of\nMr. E. T. Minns we are indebted for the loan of Hilferding\u2019s invaluable\nSbornik, now out of print, and not easily obtainable during the War.\n\n    M. C. H.\n    J. E. H.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                                        Page.\n\n    I.    The Story of Volg\u00e1                               1\n    II.   Mik\u00fala the Villager\u2019s Son                        8\n    III.  Svyatog\u00f3r                                       15\n    IV.   Svyatog\u00f3r and Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom                     17\n    V.    Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom and Nightingale the Robber        30\n    VI.   The Three Ways                                  46\n    VII.  Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom and King K\u00e1lin                    50\n\n\n\nCHARACTERS.\n\n\n    Volg\u00e1, Son of Svy\u00e1toslav.\n    Mik\u00fala, the Ploughman Hero.\n    Svyatog\u00f3r, the Hero.\n    Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, Son of Iv\u00e1n.\n    Vlad\u00edmir, Prince of Kiev.\n    Apr\u00e1xia, his Daughter.\n    Nightingale, the Robber.\n    King K\u00e1lin, a Tartar King.\n    Samson, a Hero (Ily\u00e1\u2019s Godfather).\n\n\n\nILLUSTRATIONS.\n\n\n\n                                                        Page.\n\n    Volg\u00e1, Son of Buslav                        Frontispiece\n    Young Mik\u00fala, the Villager\u2019s Son                      11\n    Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, the Peasant\u2019s Son                      19\n    Map of Ily\u00e1\u2019s Journeys                                23\n    He Shot Nightingale the Robber                        37\n    Ily\u00e1 came to Kiev Town                                41\n    A Feast of Honour was Spread                          51\n    There was the Old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom              57\n\n\nThese titles are literal translations of the Russian inscriptions on\nthe illustrations.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nHERO TALES OF RUSSIA.\n\n\nI.\n\nTHE STORY OF VOLG\u00c1.\n\n\nThe red sun was going down behind the high hills, behind the blue sea.\nThe countless stars showed themselves in the clear sky, and the bright\nmoon was shining in the heavens when Volg\u00e1 the Hero was born in Holy\nRussia. Damp Mother Earth was his cradle. The earth rocked, and there\nwas a great storm upon the blue sea, and the fish went down into the\ndeep sea, the birds flew up into the sky, the great aurochs and the\ndeer fled over the hills, the hares and rabbits ran into the thick\nforest, and the wolves and bears fled away among the fir trees, sables\nand martens escaped to the islands, because they knew that a hero was\nborn in Russia.\n\n\n\nWhen Volg\u00e1 was an hour and a half old he spoke with a voice like\nthunder, and said:\n\n\u201cCome then, O Lady, my mother, young M\u00e1rfa, put no baby-clothes upon\nme, nor a sash of silk, but give me strong steel armour, and on my head\nput a helmet of gold. In my right hand a club, a club made heavy with\nlead of the weight of a hundred pounds.\u201d\n\nWhen Volg\u00e1 was seven years old his mother had him taught to read, and\nshe made him write with a pen. And from all the birds and beasts he\nlearnt their skill and wisdom and the different tongues of all, and he\nunderstood the speech of all the beasts of the field and forest, and of\nall the birds and fishes.\n\nWhen he was ten years old he learned much magic. First he learned to\nturn himself into a bright falcon, and next he learned to turn himself\ninto a grey wolf, and the third thing he learned was to turn himself\ninto a brown aurochs, a brown aurochs with golden hoofs.\n\n\n\nWhen Volg\u00e1 was seventeen he called his friends and companions together\nand formed a bodyguard of thirty youths save one, and Volg\u00e1 himself was\nthe thirtieth. He was their Chief, and took them with him on his\njourneys. He provided for them all and gave them abundance of food and\ndrink, and of sugar sweetmeats many kinds. And warm clothes, too, he\ngave them, fur coats made of the skins of marten and sable and of\npanther. When his comrades slept Volg\u00e1 slept not. Sometimes he turned\nhimself into a grey wolf and ran and leaped in the dark forest and\nkilled moose-deer and bears and wolves. Martens and panthers were his\nfavourite prey, and he spared neither hares nor foxes. And at other\ntimes he turned himself into a bright falcon, flew far away over the\nblue sea and killed geese and white swans, and the little grey ducks he\nspared not.\n\nOne day when he was at Kiev he called his body-guard:\n\n\u201cMy good brave comrades,\u201d said he, \u201clisten to your big brother, your\nChief. Bring a rope of silk and make a snare. Put it into the dark\nforest and set the snare upon the damp earth so as to catch beasts of\nthe forest, and catch martens and foxes, black sables and other wild\nbeasts, and go on snaring them for three days and three nights.\u201d\n\nThey listened to their big brother, their Chief, and they did the thing\nhe had ordered. They took a rope of silk to the dark forest and set a\nsnare upon the damp earth, but they could not catch a single beast.\nThen Volg\u00e1 their Chief turned himself into a lion-beast. He leapt and\nbounded on the damp earth, through the dark forest, and drove out\nmartens and foxes, black sables and other wild beasts, big bounding\nhares and little ermines. And Volg\u00e1 took his own form again, and became\na goodly youth.\n\nAnd again when he was at the town of Kiev with his body-guard of brave\nyouths he said:\n\n\u201cMy good comrades, my brave lads, listen to your big brother your\nChief. Take a snare of silk and set it in the dark forest at the very\ntops of the trees, and with it catch geese, swans and bright falcons,\nand little singing birds, and go on snaring them for three days and\nthree nights.\u201d\n\nAnd they listened to their big brother their Chief. They did the thing\nhe ordered. They took a snare of silk, set the snare in the dark\nforest, at the very tops of the trees, but they could not catch a\nsingle bird.\n\nVolg\u00e1 the Chief turned himself into an eagle. He flew up beneath the\nclouds and struck down geese, swans, bright hawks, and little singing\nbirds.\n\nAgain when they were at the town of Kiev, Volg\u00e1 the Chief said:\n\n\u201cGood comrades, my brave body-guard, listen to your big brother, your\nChief. Take sharp axes, good for cutting wood, and build a ship of oak;\ntake fishing nets of silk and go forth upon the blue sea, and fish for\nall kinds of fish\u2014salmon and white fish, pike and dace, and the most\nprecious fish\u2014sturgeon, and go on fishing for three days and three\nnights.\u201d\n\nThey listened to their big brother their Chief, and they did the thing\nhe ordered. They took sharp axes, good for cutting wood, and built a\nship of oak. They took fishing nets of silk, but they could not catch a\nsingle fish.\n\nVolg\u00e1 the Chief turned himself into a big pike and swam in the blue\nsea. He sent up salmon and white sturgeon, pike and dace, and the\ncostly fish\u2014sturgeon, and drove them into the nets of his men.\n\n\n\nAnd again, when he was at Kiev with his body-guard of good comrades,\nVolg\u00e1 the Chief said:\n\n\u201cMy good brave comrades, why should we not send to the country of the\nTartars to find out what the Cham is thinking of? For the Cham may be\nthinking of something. And what if he were thinking of riding into Holy\nRussia? Now, whom shall we send? If we send an old man he will go\nslowly, and we shall have long to wait. If we send a middle-aged man he\nwill tarry and drink by the way; and if we send a boy he will stop and\nplay. It seems as if Volg\u00e1 will have to go himself!\u201d\n\n\n\nThen Volg\u00e1 the Chief turned himself into a little bird and flew up\nbeneath the clouds. He flew on and soon came to the country of the\nTartars. He came to the house of the Tartar Cham and perched at the\nCham\u2019s own window and listened to his secret talk.\n\n\n\nThe Cham said to his wife:\n\n\u201cNow I tell you, my Queen, I know what I know. In Russia the grass\ngrows not as it used to grow. The flowers bloom not as before. Volg\u00e1\nmust be dead and gone.\u201d\n\nThe Queen said:\n\n\u201cCome now, Santal, Cham of Tartary, the grass grows in Russia just as\nbefore. The flowers bloom in Russia just as before. I dreamed in the\nnight\u2014in dreams one sees all things. It seemed that from the East, that\ndear country, a bird was flying\u2014a small singing bird\u2014and from the\nWest\u2014the old country\u2014after the little bird there flew a black crow.\nThey flew together over the open plain, and they were pecking at each\nother, and the little singing bird was pecking the black crow, and she\npulled out his feathers, and all were carried away on the wind.\u201d\n\nAnd the Cham Santal of Tartary answered her: \u201cOh, my Queen! I am\nthinking of riding soon to Holy Russia with my army, and I shall take\nnine cities and give them to my nine sons, and for myself I shall bring\nback a costly fur coat.\u201d\n\nBut the Queen said:\n\n\u201cYou will not take nine cities or give them to your nine sons, and you\nwill not bring back for yourself a costly fur coat!\u201d\n\nThe Cham of Tartary answered in a rage:\n\n\u201cOh, you old devil! You were dreaming and saw yourself in your dream!\u201d\n\nAnd he struck her on her white face, and again he struck her on the\nother cheek. He threw the Queen down upon the brick floor, and threw\nher down a second time, and said:\n\n\u201cI shall ride to Holy Russia; I shall take nine cities, and give them\nto my nine sons; and for myself I shall bring back a costly fur coat.\u201d\n\n\n\nVolg\u00e1 the Chief flew down from the window-ledge to the ground and\nturned himself into a grey wolf and jumped into the stable yard. He\npicked out all the good horses and tore out the throat of every one.\n\nThen Volg\u00e1 turned himself into a little ermine and slipped into the\narmoury, where the Cham kept a great stock of weapons for his men.\nVolg\u00e1 broke all the tough bows, tore out the silken bow strings,\ndestroyed the sharp arrows, bit notches in the sharp swords, and bent\nthe steel maces into a bow. Then he turned himself again into a little\nbird and soon flew back to Kiev town, where he turned himself back into\nhis own shape, and was once more a goodly youth.\n\nVolg\u00e1 came to his body-guard of good comrades.\n\n\u201cMy brave comrades,\u201d said he, \u201clet us go to the land of the Tartars!\u201d\n\nAnd they went to the land of the Tartars, and they took all the Tartar\narmy prisoners.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nII.\n\nMIK\u00daLA THE VILLAGER\u2019S SON.\n\n\nNext we come to the story of Mik\u00fala, the villager\u2019s son, and how he\nmeets with Volg\u00e1 and joins his band of heroes. Young Volg\u00e1 had an uncle\nwho was a prince in the land, and the prince gave Volg\u00e1 for his own\nthree towns, and the towns were to pay him a yearly tribute, and so he\nset out with his body-guard of brave youths to collect this tribute.\n\nVolg\u00e1 set out, and as he rode through the free and open plain he heard\na ploughman in the open field. The ploughman\u2019s plough could be heard\nscraping over the ground and scrunching over the stones, but the\nploughman and his plough were out of sight on the boundless plain.\nVolg\u00e1 rode towards the ploughman all day from morning till evening with\nhis brave body-guard, but he could not come up with the ploughman. And\nVolg\u00e1 rode on the whole of another day, another day from morning till\nevening, but he could not come up with the ploughman. The ploughman was\nploughing the field and still drove on. The ploughman\u2019s plough scraped\non and the ploughshare creaked over the stones, but still Volg\u00e1 could\nnot come within sight of him, and on the third day Volg\u00e1 and his\ncomrades rode from morning till midday, and at midday they came up with\nthe ploughman in the open field. The ploughman was ploughing in the\nfield, and on he drove. From edge to edge he swept the long furrows.\nWhen he reached the edge of the field he could not see the other edge.\nHe cast out the stumps and stones, and all the large stones he piled up\nin a trench.\n\nThe ploughman had a light bay mare, and the stock of his plough was of\nmaple wood. His mare was harnessed with ropes of silk.\n\nWhen Volg\u00e1 came up with the ploughman he spoke to him and said:\n\n\u201cGod help thee, good ploughman, to plough the field and till the\nground, and to do thy labour, to sweep the furrows from edge to edge of\nthe field, and to turn out the stumps and stones from the ground.\u201d\n\nThe ploughman looked at Volg\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cHere comes Volg\u00e1 with his brave body-guard! Yes, I need the help of\nGod to do my peasant\u2019s work! Is it far thou goest, Volg\u00e1, and whither\ndost thou go with thy brave body-guard?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, good ploughman, I am going to town to collect the tribute. First\nI go to Gurchevitz town, and next I am going to Orechovitz, and then to\na third town, Krestyanovitz.\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, my Lord Volg\u00e1,\u201d said the ploughman, \u201cI was in town not long\nsince on my bay mare, and I brought away with me from the town two bags\nof salt, only two bags of salt, each of fourteen hundred pounds weight,\nand the peasants there are all thieves; they asked me for threepence\nfor toll. But I had my whip for the journey, and I paid them their toll\nwith my whip.\u201d\n\n\u201cNow come with me, good ploughman,\u201d said Volg\u00e1, \u201ccome and join my\nbody-guard!\u201d\n\nAnd the good ploughman straightway unfastened his ropes of silk, took\nhis mare from the plough, and got on her back.\n\nVolg\u00e1\u2019s body-guard were all mounted on their good horses and were\nsetting off, but the ploughman stopped Volg\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cNow, Volg\u00e1, I left the plough in the furrow; would it not be better to\npull the plough out of the ground and shake the earth from the\nploughshare, and throw the plough behind the broom bush? Not for fear\nof any passing travellers who might take it, but on account of the\ngood-for-nothings in the village who might meddle with my plough.\u201d\n\nYoung Volg\u00e1 ordered five strong young men out of his brave body-guard\nto pull the plough out of the ground, to shake the earth from the\nploughshare, and throw the plough behind the broom bush. The five\nstrong young men rode up to the plough of maple wood, they turned the\nplough about by the shaft, but could not pull the plough out of the\nground, or shake the earth from the ploughshare, and throw the plough\nbehind the broom bush.\n\nYoung Volg\u00e1 then sent from his brave body-guard a whole half-score to\npull the plough out of the ground, to shake the earth from the\nploughshare, and throw the plough behind the broom bush. They turned\nthe plough round by the shaft, but could not pull the plough out of the\nground, or shake the earth from the ploughshare, or throw the plough\nbehind the broom bush.\n\nYoung Volg\u00e1 then sent his whole brave body-guard to pull the plough out\nof the ground, shake the earth from the ploughshare, and throw the\nplough behind the broom bush, but, though they tried their hardest,\nthey could not pull the plough out of the ground, or shake the earth\nfrom the ploughshare, and throw the plough behind the broom bush. Then\nthe good ploughman came riding up upon his light bay mare to this\nplough of maple wood. He took hold of the plough with one hand, pulled\nthe plough out of the ground, shook the earth from the ploughshare, and\nthrew the plough into the broom bush.\n\nAgain they all mounted their good steeds and rode on. The ploughman\u2019s\nmare went on at a trot, but Volg\u00e1\u2019s horse had to gallop to try to get\nup to the ploughman\u2019s mare, and Volg\u00e1\u2019s horse was left behind. Volg\u00e1\nbegan to wave his cap, and he shouted:\n\n\u201cStop, good ploughman. If that mare of yours were a horse, I would give\nfive hundred for that mare.\u201d\n\nThe ploughman answered him:\n\n\u201cStupid is Volg\u00e1, the son of Svy\u00e1toslav. I took the mare as a foal from\nthe dam, and I paid five hundred for that mare when she was a foal. If\nthe mare were a horse, she would be priceless!\u201d\n\nSaid Volg\u00e1, the son of Svy\u00e1toslav:\n\n\u201cHere, good ploughman-farmer, by what name art thou called? What is thy\nfather\u2019s name, and whence comest thou?\u201d\n\nAnd the ploughman answered him:\n\n\u201cWell now, Volg\u00e1, son of Svy\u00e1toslav, I plough the fields for rye, I\nbuild my ricks, I stack my corn, I lead it home; when I\u2019ve brought it\nhome, I grind the corn, I split wood, and I brew beer. When I have\nbrewed beer I give it to the peasants to drink. And the peasants call\nme Young Mik\u00fala, the villager\u2019s son!\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIII.\n\nSVYATOG\u00d3R.\n\n\nThere was once a great Russian Hero who was so big and strong that no\none could stand up against him, and he fancied that with his great\nstrength he could do anything.\n\nOne day he made up his mind to go out for a ride on the plain, the\ngreat open plain in Russia, where one can ride for miles without seeing\nanything but the long waving feather grass.\n\nHe saddled and bridled his good horse, got upon his back and rode out\non the open plain. In his heart he was glad; yes, he was glad\u2014yes, and\noverflowing with strength, and he said to himself:\n\n\u201cSo strong do I feel that if I could find something to take hold of I\ncould lift up the whole world!\u201d\n\nHe rode on a long way and presently saw another man on horseback ahead\nof him. The man did not look round, but he let fall a small wallet such\nas a man often carries across his shoulder or across his horse.\nSvyatog\u00f3r saw it lying on the road and tried to push it away with the\nend of his whip; it did not move. He bent over and touched the wallet\nwith his fingers, but he could not move it. He stooped down from his\nhorse and grasped the wallet with his hand, but he could not lift it.\n\n\u201cMany years have I journeyed upon this earth,\u201d said he, \u201cbut never have\nI come upon so strange a thing. Such a wonder have I never seen. A\nlittle wallet, a bag, that will not be pushed away, that cannot be\nmoved out of the way, and that cannot be lifted up!\u201d\n\n\n\nThe hero got off his good horse, stooped and grasped the bag with both\nhands; he lifted it a little higher than his knees, but he sank down\ninto the earth as far as his knees, and, not tears, but blood, ran down\nhis white face, and as he sank down he could not rise again.\n\nThe man who was riding in front turned round and rode back to him.\n\nSvyatog\u00f3r asked:\n\n\u201cWhat was in that wallet to make it so heavy?\u201d\n\nThe man answered:\n\n\u201cThe weight of the whole world.\u201d\n\n\u201cWho art thou?\u201d asked Svyatog\u00f3r.\n\n\u201cI am Mik\u00fala, the villager\u2019s son.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIV.\n\nSVYATOG\u00d3R AND ILY\u00c1 OF M\u00daROM.\n\n\nNear the town of M\u00farom in Russia there lived long ago a farmer called\nIv\u00e1n, with his wife and family. He and his wife and his sons and\ndaughters worked hard in the fields, all but one son, Ily\u00e1, who was\nalways sitting at home. For thirty years Ily\u00e1 had been sitting at home\nbecause he could use neither hands nor feet.\n\nOne day he was sitting by the window as usual, when two wandering\npilgrims came passing by. They were both too lame and old to work, but\nthey had made the pilgrimage to the Holy Land and now walked about the\ncountry singing psalms and living upon the food and money that kind\nfolk gave them. They saw Ily\u00e1 at his window and called out:\n\n\u201cIly\u00e1! Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, open wide the gate for the pilgrims; let us into\nthy house.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 of M\u00farom answered:\n\n\u201cWell now, good pilgrims, I cannot open the gate, for I have been\nsitting here these thirty years. I can use neither hands nor feet.\u201d\n\nAgain the pilgrims called to him:\n\n\u201cO Ily\u00e1, rise up upon thy nimble feet. Open wide the gates and let the\npilgrims in to visit thee in thy house.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 stood up upon his feet, as though nothing ailed him. He opened\nwide the gates and let the pilgrims into the house. They came in,\ncrossing themselves like good Russians, and bowed low when they were in\nthe room.\n\n\u201cPray give us a drink, Ily\u00e1,\u201d they said.\n\nIly\u00e1 brought them a large bowl of honey drink; it held about a pailful\nand a half, and he offered it to the pilgrims. They took it and drank,\nand then offered it to Ily\u00e1. He drank the bowlful and felt a rush of\nwarmth throughout his body, his hero\u2019s heart burned within him.\n\n\u201cWhat dost thou feel, O Ily\u00e1?\u201d asked the pilgrims.\n\nIly\u00e1 bowed to the ground before the pilgrims and answered:\n\n\u201cI feel great strength within me.\u201d\n\n\u201cBring another drink, Ily\u00e1,\u201d said the pilgrims.\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 brought another cupful, and offered it to the pilgrims. They\noffered it to Ily\u00e1, and Ily\u00e1 emptied the cup without drawing breath.\n\n\u201cHow dost thou feel now, Ily\u00e1?\u201d asked the pilgrims.\n\n\u201cI feel great strength, but only half as much as before,\u201d answered he.\n\nThen the wandering pilgrims said:\n\n\u201cO Ily\u00e1, thou wilt be a great hero, and it is not written that thou\nshouldst die in battle. Fight thou with all the heroes and the bold\nwarrior women of the plain, and defend thyself against them; only go\nnot out to fight with the hero Svyatog\u00f3r, for with his strength he\ncould carry the earth; and fight not with the hero Samson, for he has\nupon his head seven hairs of angels; also fight not with the race of\nMik\u00fala, for damp Mother Earth loves him. Neither go after Volg\u00e1, son of\nSvy\u00e1toslav; he will overcome thee, not by force, but by craft and\nwisdom. Now rise up, O Ily\u00e1, mount thy horse, and ride out into the\nfree and open plain. Buy the first foal thou seest with its dam, and in\nthree months\u2019 time thou mayst put on the saddle. Feed him on millet and\nmaize; walk him about for three months, then keep him for three nights\nin the garden, and roll the foal three mornings in the dew. Lead him to\na high fence, and when he will readily leap the fence both from this\nside and the other, then ride him where thou wilt, he will carry thee.\u201d\n\n\n\nThen the pilgrims vanished, and presently Ily\u00e1\u2019s father and mother came\nin from their work in the fields. His brother and sisters came in also\nfrom their work, and his father and mother were glad indeed to see that\nIly\u00e1 could walk as if nothing had ever ailed him. Then from joy they\nbecame sad again, and said:\n\n\u201cThirty years has Ily\u00e1 been sitting on the bench as if he had neither\nhands nor feet!\u201d\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 said to his father:\n\n\u201cWhere have you been working to-day, father?\u201d\n\nBut his parents only said:\n\n\u201cGlory to Thee, O Lord! Thirty years has Ily\u00e1 been sitting by the\nstove, and was he not without hands or feet?\u201d\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 asked again:\n\n\u201cBut you, father and mother, where have you been working on the farm?\u201d\n\n\u201cWell, Ily\u00e1,\u201d answered his father, \u201cwe are working in the field by the\nstream; we are clearing it for ploughing. It is the field three fields\nfrom home.\u201d\n\n\n\nAfter they had dined Ily\u00e1 said to his parents:\n\n\u201cNow, dear father and mother, take me to the water meadow. Show me my\nbit of work.\u201d\n\nAnd his parents took him down to the water meadow, and Ily\u00e1 said:\n\n\u201cShow me how far you will plough here,\u201d and they showed him the\nboundary and sat down to rest.\n\nBut Ily\u00e1 seized the brushwood by handfuls and cut it down by the roots\nand threw it all on to a pile on the edge of the field. And he worked\nso hard and so fast that the field was cleared in a quarter of the time\nthat it would have taken his father to finish the work. The father and\nmother were asleep, for they were tired by the long morning\u2019s work, but\nthey awoke when Ily\u00e1 came towards them, saying:\n\n\u201cCome, father and mother, is not your field well cleared for the\nploughing? Now I must say good-bye to home!\u201d\n\nThen Ily\u00e1 saddled his good horse and put on the bridle, and his father\nand mother gave him their farewell blessing.\n\nHe rode away through the open plain till at last he came to a high\nmountain. When he reached the high mountain he climbed up it and then\nlay down to rest, and he slept for twelve days the sleep of a hero.\nWhen he awoke he saw at a distance a white tent standing beneath a\ntree. He mounted his horse again and rode a long way through the plain\ntowards the white tent. This tent stood beneath the shade of a great\ngreen oak tree upon another hill. In the tent was a great bed seventy\nfeet long and forty-two feet wide. Ily\u00e1 tied up his horse to the oak\ntree and lay down upon that hero\u2019s bed, and went to sleep. Now the\nsleep of a hero is sound, and Ily\u00e1 slept for three days and three\nnights.\n\nOn the third day his good horse heard a terrible noise from the north.\nMother Earth rocked, the dark forest shook, the rivers overflowed their\nsteep banks. Ily\u00e1\u2019s good horse struck the ground with his hoofs, but\ncould not waken Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom. At last the horse spoke to him in a\nhuman voice:\n\n\u201cO Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! thou knowest not that danger is near thee. The hero\nSvyatog\u00f3r is coming to his tent. Let me loose that I may flee across\nthe open plain, and thou mayest climb up into the green oak tree.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 untied his horse\u2019s bridle and set the good horse free to gallop\nacross the plain; and then he climbed up into the oak tree. From the\noak tree he saw the hero Svyatog\u00f3r coming on his great horse. The hero\nwas taller than a standing forest, and his head nearly touched a moving\ncloud. On his shoulder he carried a great chest of glass. He came down\nfrom his horse and placed the chest on the ground and opened it with a\ngolden key. Out of the chest came the hero\u2019s wife. So lovely was she\nthat no such beauty had ever been seen or heard of in the whole white\nworld.\n\nVery tall she was and elegant, and delicately did she walk. She had\neyes like the eyes of a bright falcon, eyebrows of black sable, and\nwaving black hair. As soon as she came out of the great chest she set\nto work to lay the table for her husband\u2019s dinner. She spread a bright\nchequered table-cloth and took from the chest a bottle of honey drink\nand a cup and sweetmeats full many, and placed them upon the chequered\ncloth.\n\n\n\nAfter he had eaten and drunk, Svyatog\u00f3r lay down to sleep on his great\nbed in the tent, but his wife went to walk on the open plain. She\ncaught sight of Ily\u00e1 in the oak tree and would have him to come down\nand talk to her. When her husband suddenly woke up she put Ily\u00e1 into\nher husband\u2019s pocket to hide him. Svyatog\u00f3r stood up and put his wife\nback into the glass chest and lifted it on to his shoulder again. He\ncalled up his horse and got upon his back and set off to ride, but soon\nthe horse stumbled, and Svyatog\u00f3r was vexed and asked why he was\nstumbling.\n\n\u201cThis morning,\u201d said the horse in a human voice, \u201cI was carrying a hero\nand a hero\u2019s wife, but now I am carrying two heroes as well as the\nhero\u2019s wife.\u201d\n\nSvyatog\u00f3r looked round and saw no one, but putting his hand into his\npocket there he found Ily\u00e1. The hero asked Ily\u00e1 whence he came. Ily\u00e1\ntold him the truth, and Svyatog\u00f3r was exceeding angry and killed his\nwife for trying to deceive him.\n\n\n\nThat Ily\u00e1 had dealt straightly pleased the hero Svyatog\u00f3r, and there\narose a great friendship between them. Svyatog\u00f3r exchanged crosses with\nIly\u00e1 in token of friendship, and called Ily\u00e1 his younger brother. He\ntaught Ily\u00e1 all the handling of weapons, how to use his mace and his\nbow and arrows and spear in fighting, and also all the ways of travel\nof the heroes. Ily\u00e1 had called up his good horse from the plain by a\nloud whistle, and the two heroes, the old Svyatog\u00f3r and the younger\nIly\u00e1 of M\u00farom, rode on together through the open plain till they came\nto a great tomb built of stone. Upon the tomb was written these words:\u2014\n\n\n    \u201cHe who is fated to lie in this tomb will exactly fit it.\u201d\n\n\nIly\u00e1 lay down in the tomb, but it was too long and too wide for him,\nand at once he sprang out of it.\n\nThe giant hero Svyatog\u00f3r lay down there, and the tomb just fitted him.\n\n\u201cThe tomb is just made for me,\u201d said the hero. \u201cTake the lid of the\ntomb, Ily\u00e1, and cover me.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 answered:\n\n\u201cI will not take up the lid of the tomb, O, my big brother. I will not\ncover thee. This is a foolish jest of thine\u2014thou wilt bury thyself.\u201d\n\nAnd Svyatog\u00f3r took the lid and covered himself up in the tomb, but when\nhe tried to lift the lid off again he could not move it. He struggled\nand strove to lift it, but could do nothing. Then he called to Ily\u00e1:\n\n\u201cO, my young brother! It seems that my fate has found me. I cannot\nraise the lid. Try thou to lift it.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 of M\u00farom tried hard to raise the cover, but what could he do?\n\nThen said Svyatog\u00f3r the hero:\n\n\u201cTake my sword of steel and strike across the lid of the tomb.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 tried to lift Svyatog\u00f3r\u2019s great sword, but could not\u2014it was too\nheavy for him\u2014and he had to say:\n\n\u201cI cannot lift thy sword, O, my brother!\u201d\n\nSvyatog\u00f3r then called to him:\n\n\u201cMy little brother, bend down to this small chink in the tomb, and I\nwill breathe upon thee the spirit of a hero.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 bent down to the chink and Svyatog\u00f3r the hero breathed upon him\nhis hero\u2019s spirit. Ily\u00e1 felt that his former strength had become three\ntimes as great as before. He took the sword of steel and struck a blow\nacross the lid of the tomb. By this blow sparks were struck, but on the\nplace where he struck the lid there grew a band of iron.\n\nThe hero Svyatog\u00f3r called to him again, saying:\n\n\u201cMy young brother, I am suffocating; try again to strike the lid\nlengthwise.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 struck the cover lengthwise with the great sword, but again where\nhe struck there grew a band of iron.\n\nThen the hero Svyatog\u00f3r spoke to him, saying:\n\n\u201cMy young brother, I am suffocating. Stoop down to the chink and I will\nbreathe upon thee and will give thee all my great strength.\u201d\n\nBut Ily\u00e1 answered:\n\n\u201cIf I had all thy strength, O, my big brother, Earth would not bear\nme.\u201d\n\nThen said the hero Svyatog\u00f3r:\n\n\u201cThou hast done well, little brother, in that thou didst not do my last\nbidding. I should have breathed upon thee with the breath of the dead,\nand thou wouldst have lain dead by me. Now, farewell; take my sword of\nsteel, but lead my good horse to my tomb; none but I must own that\nhorse.\u201d\n\nThen came from the chink the last breath of the hero. Ily\u00e1 said\nfarewell to his friend, girded on his sword of steel, but left the\nhero\u2019s horse by his master\u2019s tomb, and he rode away into the free and\nopen plain.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nV.\n\nILY\u00c1 OF M\u00daROM AND NIGHTINGALE THE ROBBER.\n\n                            The green oak bows not down to the earth,\n                            Leaves of paper do not grow.\n\n\nIly\u00e1 had made up his mind to go to Kiev town to seek service with the\ngracious Prince Vlad\u00edmir, but before setting out on that long journey\nhe wished to see his father again and ask for his blessing, so he rode\nback to M\u00farom and to his old home. He found his old father there and\ngreeted him, saying:\n\n\u201cCome thou, my own dear Father! I am here to ask for thy blessing. I go\nto glorious, royal Kiev town to pray at the sanctuary of Kiev and to\npledge myself to Vlad\u00edmir the Prince, to serve him in faith and in\ntruth, and to uphold the Christian faith.\u201d\n\nThe old farmer Iv\u00e1n blessed Ily\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cI give thee my blessing for the good work, but for evil work no\nblessing I give. Go thou on the right road, and do no harm to any woman\nwhether she be Christian or Tartar.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 of M\u00farom bowed to the earth before his father, and said farewell\nto his mother and his sisters and brothers, and then he mounted his\ngood horse and rode through the open plain. With his whip he struck his\nhorse on the curved hind quarter and his restive steed was wroth and\nsuddenly sprang from the earth and bounded higher than an upright tree,\nalmost as high as a moving cloud. At the first bound he passed twelve\nmiles, at the second bound he came to a well. By the well Ily\u00e1 cut down\na green oak tree, and beside the well he built a small chapel, and upon\nthe chapel he wrote his name,\n\n\n                    ILY\u00c1 OF M\u00daROM, SON OF IV\u00c1N,\n\n\nso that if some strong and mighty hero should ride that way, he should\nknow the name of the builder of that chapel.\n\n\n\nAt the third bound Ily\u00e1\u2019s horse brought him to the town of Ch\u00e9rnigov.\nNear Ch\u00e9rnigov there stood a countless host of Tartars, and at their\nhead were three Princes, each with the strength of forty thousand. On\nseeing this vast horde the hero\u2019s heart grew hot within him, and he\ncould not control his longing to fight. His heart was filled with\nfires, and it burned too as if scorched by frost. Then he spoke and\nsaid:\n\n\u201cI desire not to go against my father\u2019s wish, or knowingly to disregard\nhis command.\u201d\n\nThen he took in his hand his battle-sword and taught it to take a walk\nthrough the army. Where he turned, it opened out a street, and when he\nturned round there was a great open space. Ily\u00e1 made his way to the\nthree princes, and spoke thus to them:\n\n\u201cCome, my three king\u2019s sons! Shall I take you away as prisoners, or\nshall I cut off your warlike heads? If I take you away as prisoners, I\nmust travel over roads that I know not and must carry bread, but if I\ntake off your heads the kingly race will be destroyed. If you will go\nhome to your own country, you will spread such report of me that it\nwill be known all over Russia, and you will tell it everywhere that in\nHoly Russia there are strong and mighty heroes.\u201d\n\nThe Governor of Ch\u00e9rnigov saw Ily\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cThis Lord has vanquished our tyrant and cleansed our glorious city of\nCh\u00e9rnigov,\u201d and he spoke to his princes and nobles and said:\n\n\u201cGo ye and call in this goodly hero to eat bread and salt with me.\u201d\n\nAnd the princes and nobles came forth to greet Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom and said:\n\n\u201cCome now, thou stalwart and goodly hero, and tell us by what honoured\nname thou art called, and what is thy renowned father\u2019s name?\u201d\n\n\u201cThey call me by the name of Ily\u00e1, but I am honoured as the son of\nIv\u00e1n,\u201d said Ily\u00e1.\n\n\u201cCome, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom,\u201d said the princes and nobles, \u201ccome to our\nGovernor, he sends us to invite thee to eat bread and salt with him.\u201d\n\nBut Ily\u00e1 wished to be on the way to Kiev and answered with little\nceremony:\n\n\u201cI will not come to your Governor; I wish not to eat bread and salt\nwith him. Show me the straight road to glorious, royal Kiev town.\u201d\n\nSo they had to let him go on his way, and they showed him the straight\nroad to Kiev across the open plain.\n\nFarther, farther upon on the open plain waves the feather grass in the\nbreeze, and there upon the open plain, among old folk, mothers and men,\nrode the Old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, and the horse he rode was like a\nfierce wild beast and he himself like a bright falcon.\n\n\n\nNow the old hero carried no money, only seven thousand golden ducats\nhad he with him, and of small money, forty thousand pieces. And the\nhorse the hero rode was priceless. Why was the hero\u2019s horse priceless?\nBecause these was no price for the horse.\n\n\n\nWhen he came to a river he looked for no ford. Now the river was a full\nmile wide, but the good steed leapt from bank to bank. Then Ily\u00e1 saw a\nvillage near by and the villagers\u2014brigands, as we say in our Russian\ntongue\u2014rode out after the hero. They swept round him and tried to rob\nhim, tried to part him from his life and soul.\n\nThen said Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, son of Iv\u00e1n:\n\n\u201cOh come, brother villagers, no reason have ye to kill an old man like\nme. And ye shall take nothing from the old man.\u201d\n\nHe took from his saddle his tough bow and brought out from his quiver a\nsharp arrow. He bent his bow and fitted the arrow to the silken string,\nand shot\u2014not at the village folk\u2014brigands though they were\u2014for he would\nhave been loth to slay them, but he shot at the green oak tree; and the\nbowstring sang in the tough bow, the villagers fell from their horses,\nthe arrow struck the crackling green oak tree and shattered the oak\ninto chips and shavings. By this heroic deed of thunder the brigand\nvillagers were filled with fear, and for five hours they lay without\nsense, and Ily\u00e1 made sport of them.\n\n\u201cCome, come, good youths, you village brigands! Why do you lie half the\nnight there upon the damp earth? Why go off to sleep and sleep half the\nnight? On my way here I passed many people both on horseback and on\nfoot; you have let many a good chance escape you.\u201d\n\nThe goodly youths stood up upon their nimble feet and threw themselves\nat Ily\u00e1\u2019s feet and said:\n\n\u201cO thou brave hero! come and join our band and be thou our chieftain.\u201d\n\nThe good hero, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, answered them:\n\n\u201cI desire not to join your band; I am on my way to Kiev town, to\nVlad\u00edmir the Prince, to help him, and to fight and defend him.\u201d\n\n\n\nThe bold hero rode on through the open plain till he came to a pillar\nof white oak. On the pillar this writing was written:\n\n\n   \u201cTo ride straight on\u2014only five hundred miles,\n    But making a round\u2014seven hundred miles.\u201d\n\n\nIly\u00e1 looked at this writing and said:\n\n\u201cIf I ride straight, I shall cease to live; this way I can neither ride\nnor walk nor fly. Nightingale the Robber sits in his nest upon the\nseven oaks, and the robber-dog will seize me at the seventh mile.\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 stood still to think what he should do.\n\n\u201cThe straight horse-road is broken up, the little bridge of white hazel\nis broken down. It would be no honour to me, or glory to my knighthood\nto ride by that roundabout way. It is better to ride by the straight\nroad.\u201d\n\n\n\nAt once he got down from his good steed; with one hand he led his\nhorse, while with the other he put planks across the stream for a\nbridge\u2014that bridge of white hazel.\n\nThe straight road he mended, and he rode on till he came near the clump\nof seven oak trees upon which Nightingale the Robber had built his\ngreat nest.\n\n\n\nNightingale the Robber was sitting upon his nest of twisted boughs upon\nthe seven oak trees, and Ily\u00e1 rode up to the oak trees. The robber-dog\ntried to seize him just as he had come to the seventh mile, and\nNightingale the Robber roared like a wild aurochs, and the villain\nwhistled like a nightingale, and the robber-dog howled like a dog.\n\n\n\nAnd at these sounds Ily\u00e1\u2019s good steed fell upon his knees with terror\nat the roar of the aurochs, and the whistle of the nightingale, and the\ndog-like howling of the robber-dog. Ily\u00e1 struck his horse between the\nears and also struck him upon the flank, saying:\n\n\u201cOh thou food for wolves, thou grass-bag! Hast thou never heard the\nroar of an aurochs? and hast thou never heard the whistle of a\nnightingale, and the howling of a robber-dog?\u201d\n\nThe hero did not sit still but quickly bent his strong bow, took a\nsharp arrow from his quiver and shot the arrow at Nightingale the\nRobber as he sat there in his nest on the seven oak trees. The arrow\nhit Nightingale the Robber in the right eye and came out at the left\near, and Nightingale the Robber fell from his nest down upon the damp\nearth.\n\n\n\nThen Ily\u00e1 took Nightingale the Robber and tied him to his Circassian\nstirrup and made him walk beside the horse towards Kiev town. Presently\nthey came to the house of Nightingale the Robber. It was a big house in\na large yard, and round the yard was a high iron fence with spikes on\nthe railings, and upon every spike was set the head of a hero; for\nNightingale the Robber killed all that passed that way.\n\n\n\nNightingale\u2019s children caught sight of their father and called out:\n\n\u201cLook! father is bringing a man.\u201d\n\nAnd Nightingale\u2019s young wife looked from the window and said:\n\n\u201cA strange man is carrying off your dear father.\u201d\n\nAnd she called to some men who were idling about the yard and said:\n\n\u201cWill you not take him from this wanderer on the road? Is your dear\nfather nothing to you? He has fallen into the power of this horseman.\nIt would be better to take a cup full of red gold, and another of pure\nsilver, and a third cup full of round pearls. Go now and offer them as\na ransom. Speak to this horseman and persuade him. Coax him and talk\nhim over so that he may release Nightingale.\u201d\n\nAnd they rushed into the house, and Nightingale\u2019s wife took the keys\nand went down to the deep vaults where all Nightingale\u2019s treasure was\nstored, and they filled a cup full of red gold, and another with pure\nsilver, and a third with round pearls, and they went out to Ily\u00e1 with\nflattering words and tried to coax him and talk him over, saying:\n\n\u201cO thou bold hero, good youth, give us back our dear father and we will\ngive thee gold and silver!\u201d\n\n\n\nIly\u00e1 received these messengers and talked to them thus:\n\n\u201cLook here, brothers, you who work for gain, I will not give you your\ndear father; he would only turn brigand again and rob the travellers\npassing this way.\u201d\n\n\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 rode on to Kiev town with Nightingale the Robber by his side,\nstill tied to the stirrup so that he could not run away. Ily\u00e1 hurried\non, for he would fain be at Kiev in time for the service on Easter\nmorning; but he could not get there in time. When he reached Kiev he\nrode into the wide courtyard of the Prince\u2019s palace. He tied up his\ngood horse to the gold ring on a carven pillar, but did not take off\neither the saddle or the bridle, and he left Nightingale the Robber\nstill tied to the stirrup.\n\nThen Ily\u00e1 walked quickly through the new entrance, through the guard\nroom and into the hall. There he crossed himself like a good Russian,\nand made his bow as he came into the hall. The steward of Vlad\u00edmir the\nPrince he greeted, and asked him:\n\n\u201cWhere is the Prince Vlad\u00edmir of royal Kiev?\u201d\n\n\u201cPrince Vlad\u00edmir has gone to Mass,\u201d was the answer.\n\nIly\u00e1 sat down on the plain wooden bench to wait, and in a short time\nPrince Vlad\u00edmir came in with his nobles and attendants from the Easter\nservice.\n\nThen they all gave greetings one to the other, and each hero greeted\nthe other, and Vlad\u00edmir spoke to Ily\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cAll hail to thee, brave youth, I know not thy name or thy father\u2019s\nname. Art thou a Tsar or a Tsar\u2019s son? Art thou a king or a king\u2019s\nson?\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1 answered and said:\n\n\u201cI am from the town of M\u00farom. I am the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom.\u201d\n\nAnd they all sat down at the table to eat bread, and they carved and\nate white swans, and Ily\u00e1 began to talk and to boast of what he had\ndone.\n\n\u201cI am a brave hero, I have been riding through the eve of Easter Day. I\nwould fain have been in time for the Easter Mass, but I could not get\nhere in time for Easter morning, for the hour was past. I rode here by\nthe straight road, and when I reached the green oaks, Nightingale the\nRobber was sitting upon the seven oaks. That ill-doer used to seize\nupon every one for seven miles round. When I came near the oaks\nNightingale roared like a wild aurochs, and the villain whistled like a\nnightingale, and the robber-dog howled like a dog. Then my good horse\nfell upon his knees with fear, but I took out my tough bow, set the\nsharp arrow, and shot Nightingale the Robber. I shot the villain\nthrough the right eye, and the arrow came out by the left ear. Then\nNightingale fell upon the damp earth, and I took the robber and\nfastened him to my Circassian stirrup and brought the villain with me.\u201d\n\nVlad\u00edmir the Prince looked at Ily\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cIt seems to me, my bold youth, that there must be a big tavern in this\ncountry! Hast thou been drinking strong drink? Art thou not making\nempty boasts, good hero?\u201d\n\nIly\u00e1\u2019s wrath grew hot within him, and angrily he said:\n\n\u201cThou it is who art the fool, O Prince of royal Kiev! I have\nNightingale the Robber here, tied to my Circassian stirrup.\u201d\n\nThen all sprang up and rushed out, hurried and stumbled against each\nother as they ran out to see Nightingale the Robber. They all spoke and\nshouted together and called out to him:\n\n\u201cO thou Nightingale the Robber! Roar, O Nightingale, like an aurochs!\nThou evil doer, whistle like a nightingale! O thou robber-dog, howl\nlike a dog!\u201d\n\nNightingale the Robber looked up and said:\n\n\u201cWith you I neither eat nor drink, and I will not obey you.\u201d\n\n\n\nAt once the crowd of courtiers turned back to the hall and came to Ily\u00e1\nof M\u00farom, bowed low to him and craved their boon:\n\n\u201cO Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, we beg thee to make Nightingale the Robber roar like\nan aurochs, and make the villain whistle like a nightingale, and make\nthe robber-dog howl like a dog.\u201d\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 spoke to the Prince and said:\n\n\u201cO Vlad\u00edmir, Prince of royal Kiev! Nightingale\u2019s lips are now sealed\ntogether and his mouth is filled with dried blood, for my arrow went\nthrough his right eye and it came out by the left ear. Pray let a bowl\nof strong drink be poured out for him\u2014a bowl weighing half a\nhundredweight, a bowl holding four gallons, and let it be given to\nNightingale.\u201d\n\nAnd they poured him out a bowl of strong drink\u2014a bowl weighing half a\nhundredweight, a bowl holding four gallons; and they took it to\nNightingale the Robber. He took the bowl in one hand, drank off the\nbowl of strong drink at one draught, and spoke these words:\n\n\u201cPour out another bowl of strong beer\u2014a bowl weighing half a\nhundredweight, a bowl holding four gallons, and pour out a third bowl\nof sweet mead\u2014a bowl weighing half a hundredweight, a bowl holding four\ngallons.\u201d\n\nAnd they poured out a bowlful of strong beer, and they poured out a\nbowlful of sweet mead and brought both to Nightingale the Robber. He\ntook the bowl with one hand and drank off the bowlful at one draught.\nAnd then Nightingale the Robber was drunken, and Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom said to\nhim:\n\n\u201cNow, Nightingale! Roar, thou robber, like an aurochs; whistle, O\nvillain, like a nightingale; and howl, O dog, like a dog.\u201d\n\nAnd Nightingale the Robber roared like an aurochs, the villain whistled\nlike a nightingale, and the robber-dog howled like a dog.\n\n\n\nPrinces and nobles all lay for dead, but Vlad\u00edmir the Prince of royal\nKiev stood up straight and went up to Ily\u00e1, for the Prince had a boon\nto ask:\n\n\u201cSilence Nightingale the Robber, lest he whistle again like a\nnightingale, and my nobles leave me here alone.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVI.\n\nTHE THREE WAYS.\n\n\nOne day Ily\u00e1 set off on his good horse for a ride. He rode a long way\nthrough the open plain till he came to the Burning Stone. Three lengths\nbeyond the stone there were three paths leading this way and that from\nthe Burning Stone, and upon the stone was written:\n\n\n   \u201cWho goes by the first path will be killed.\n    Who goes by the second path will find marriage.\n    Who goes by the third path will become rich.\u201d\n\n\nHe stopped to consider:\n\n\u201cBy which path shall I go? Why should a bold hero want to be rich? Why\nshould I want to marry? I will take the way to be killed.\u201d\n\nSo he took that way and rode on for three hours, and he rode three\nhundred miles, and then he came to a hill, and at that hill, that high\nhill, brigands began to come up, and there came up forty thousand\nbrigands. They began to defy our bold hero, and the brave Cossack spoke\nand hailed them:\n\n\u201cCome, you forty thousand robbers! What will you take from me, the bold\nhero? I have not many chests of uncounted gold, I have no beautiful\nyoung wives, I have no fine clothes, I have nothing but a good horse, a\ngood horse which cost three hundred; on the horse are trappings worth\nfive hundred; on myself a hero\u2019s gear worth a cool thousand.\u201d\n\nWhen he drew his iron mace of three tons weight, he began to defy the\nrobbers, and he killed the forty thousand robbers.\n\n\n\nThen the bold hero turned back, and when he reached the Burning Stone\nhe altered the writing thus:\n\n\n   \u201cIf thou goest by this road thou wilt not be killed.\u201d\n\n\nAnd he said:\n\n\u201cI shall go by the road to marriage.\u201d\n\nSo Ily\u00e1 took the second path and rode on for just three hundred miles.\nHe rode on always through the plain, that open plain, through the open\nplain, the green meadow, through those open plains and through green\nmeadows till he came to a wonderful and a strange thing. If we called\nit a town it would be too small; if we called it a village it would\nseem too large, but there stood a palace built of white stone. When\nIly\u00e1 reached the broad palace yard there came a most beautiful young\nprincess from the palace of white stone. She came to meet the brave\nhero and took him by his white hands, kissed him with her sweet lips,\nled him into the white stone palace, and made him sit down at the oaken\ntable, where a feast was spread. Ily\u00e1 ate and drank in plenty, and\nstuffed himself the whole day long till evening, when he rose up from\nthe oaken table and spoke to the princess and said:\n\n\u201cO thou enchanting and beautiful lady, where are thy warm sleeping\nchambers? Where are the beds of carved wood? Where are the soft feather\nbeds? I am an old man and weary, and I would fain sleep.\u201d\n\nAnd the princess led him to a warm chamber, but the old man stood by\nthe bed and shook his head and said:\n\n\u201cMuch have I travelled through Holy Russia, but so strange a thing have\nI never seen. It seems to me that that bed is a trap.\u201d\n\nSuddenly he seized the princess by her white hands and threw her\nagainst the brick wall against which the bed stood. The bed of carved\nwood turned over and the princess fell down into a deep dungeon below.\n\nThe old Cossack walked out of the palace, and outside he found the door\nof the deep dungeon. Then he took the golden keys, went on and unlocked\nthe deep dungeon and set free many goodly youths and brave, and many\nstrong and mighty heroes, but the beautiful and wicked enchantress was\nkilled. And all the rich treasure which Ily\u00e1 found there in that white\nstone palace he bestowed on the good youths and brave, and on the\nstrong and mighty heroes. But that white stone palace he gave to the\nflames.\n\nAnd then our bold hero rode back again, and when he came to the Burning\nStone he again altered the graven letters and wrote:\n\n\n   \u201cBy that way I went\u2014I was not married.\u201d\n\n\n\u201cI go,\u201d said he, \u201cby the third path, where one will become rich.\u201d\n\nAnd on he rode for three hours, three hundred miles he rode, and again\nhe rode through the plain, the open plain, the meadow, the green\nmeadow, to a place where there were sunk deep pits in the ground, all\npiled up with red gold\u2014red gold, pure silver, and fine round pearls.\n\nIly\u00e1 looked at the gold and said:\n\n\u201cWhat has a bold hero to do with these riches, with this treasure of\nmuch uncounted gold?\u201d\n\n\n\nHe began to consider: and then he took enough of this treasure in this\nplain, this open plain, to build an abbey for prayers to God. He built\na church, a minster church, ordered the singing of psalms and the\nringing of bells, and then Ily\u00e1 said:\n\n\u201cLet him whose treasure it was go and look for it!\u201d\n\nAnd then the bold hero turned back again; again he rode to that Burning\nStone; again he wrote beneath that inscription:\n\n\n   \u201cThough I rode by that path, I became not rich.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nVII.\n\nILY\u00c1 OF M\u00daROM AND KING K\u00c1LIN.\n\n\nIn the palace of the gracious Prince Vlad\u00edmir, in royal Kiev town, a\ngreat feast of honour was spread for many princes and nobles and for\nthe strong and mighty heroes and their bold followers, men of the\nplains, and for the stranger merchants and traders.\n\nThe Fair Sun, Prince Vlad\u00edmir himself, took his pleasure there, and\ngave rich gifts to his guests. To some he gave towns, and to others he\ngave small towns, to some he gave villages, and to others he gave\nhamlets, and to Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom he gave a coat of marten fur with a\ncollar of sable.\n\nBut Ily\u00e1 received not the fur coat as an honour; he received it without\nrespect and praised it not. He took the fur coat into the kitchen and\ndragged the fur coat about the kitchen floor. Yes, and thus he talked\nto the fur coat:\n\n\u201cJust as I drag about this fur coat, so will I drag about that serpent,\nKing K\u00e1lin, by his yellow curls. And just as I pour strong drink upon\nthis fur coat, his heart shall pour forth his hot blood.\u201d\n\nAnd there was a dark-haired maid there, and she reported the matter to\nFair Sun, Prince Vlad\u00edmir, and said:\n\n\u201cO Fair Sun, Prince Vlad\u00edmir! When Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom was in my kitchen, he\ndragged about the coat of marten fur; yes, and he said to the fur coat:\n\n\u201cJust as I drag this fur coat about, so will I drag Prince Vlad\u00edmir\nabout by his yellow curly hair, and, just as I pour strong drink upon\nthe fur coat\u2014yes, he himself said it to the fur coat\u2014the Fair Sun,\nPrince Vlad\u00edmir\u2019s hot blood shall be poured out by my white hands.\u201d\n\nAnd the Fair Sun, Prince Vlad\u00edmir, grew angry, and he cried out in a\nloud voice:\n\n\u201cCome, my strong and mighty heroes, take Ily\u00e1 away to the dungeon, and\nput an iron grating there and cover it over with logs of oak; yes, and\nbury him with yellow sand.\u201d\n\nAnd the heroes came to Ily\u00e1 and said:\n\n\u201cNow, old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! Fair Sun Vlad\u00edmir, the Prince, has\nordered us to put thee in a deep dungeon, and to put an iron grating\nthere, and to cover it all over with oak logs, yes, and to bury thee\nwith yellow sand.\u201d\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 spoke to them and said:\n\n\u201cNow, what will ye do with me?\u201d\n\nAnd the heroes said:\n\n\u201cThere is no sun in the heavens. Not one hero in Holy Russia. Old\nCossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! O that we might take thee out of this bitter\ncaptivity! Fair Sun, Prince Vlad\u00edmir, makes us turn pale.\u201d\n\n\n\nThen Ily\u00e1 mounted his good horse and rode to Kiev town. He rode not\ninto Kiev town, but he rode to the deep dungeon.\n\nHe got down from his good horse, took off the Circassian saddle, took\noff the braided bridle and let his brown horse go where God willed.\n\nThen Ily\u00e1 was let down into the deep dungeon, and they put a grating\nover; they put it above him and placed oak logs all over it, and buried\nhim with yellow sand.\n\n\n\nNow the glorious Prince Vlad\u00edmir had an only daughter, and she saw that\nthis was no small matter that Prince Vlad\u00edmir of royal Kiev town had\nput the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, into that cold dungeon. For it\nmight be that he alone would be able to defend the Faith and Country;\nthat he alone might defend Kiev town; that he alone might defend the\nMinster Church, might protect Vlad\u00edmir the Prince and the Princess\nApr\u00e1xia.\n\nSo the Princess caused a deep trench to be dug to reach the dungeon of\nthe old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom. And she commanded that false keys\nshould be made; and she sent people secretly to take to the cold\ndungeon pillows of down and feather beds, and ordered them to take warm\ncoverlets too, and changes of clothing, and to provide delicate food\nfor the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom. But of this had Vlad\u00edmir the Prince\nno knowledge.\n\n\n\nNow that dog, the Tartar King K\u00e1lin, burned to be at Kiev town. Even\nroyal Kiev town would he destroy, and all the peasants he would cut to\npieces, and would burn down the churches of God, and also cut off the\nheads of Vlad\u00edmir the Prince and the Princess Apr\u00e1xia.\n\nAnd King K\u00e1lin, the dog, sent an envoy to royal Kiev town and gave him\na letter to deliver, and he said to the envoy:\n\n\u201cWhen thou goest to royal Kiev town thou wilt be an ambassador in Kiev\ntown to the glorious Prince Vlad\u00edmir. Therefore go to the broad\ncourtyard of the Prince\u2019s palace, and dismount not, but ride in on thy\ngood steed. After thou hast ridden through the courtyard, then get down\noff thy steed and go to the palace of white stone, and into the great\nhall of white stone and into the dining hall. Go not humbly, but walk\nin with a flourish through the five doors and take not thy cap from thy\nhead; but go up to the oaken table and stand opposite Prince Vlad\u00edmir\nand place the letter upon the golden table before him, and speak to\nPrince Vlad\u00edmir and say:\n\n\u201cO Prince Vlad\u00edmir of royal Kiev town! Take this letter which is sent\nto thee, and look at what is written in the letter and see what is\nimpressed upon it. Clean all thy arrow-straight streets and the Courts\nof the Prince in all the town of Kiev, and in all the broad streets and\nalleys of the princedom place sweet strong drinks, cask by cask\nstanding close together, for those who stand by the dog, King K\u00e1lin,\nwith his mighty warriors, in thy town of Kiev.\u201d\n\nPrince Vlad\u00edmir of royal Kiev took the letter sent to him, broke the\nseal and looked at what was written therein, and he saw what was in the\nletter: that he was commanded to clean the arrow-straight streets and\nthe great Courts of the Prince, and to place sweet strong drinks in all\nthe broad streets and all the alleys of the princedom.\n\nThen Vlad\u00edmir, the Prince of royal Kiev, saw that this was no small\nmatter, but a great one, and he sat down in his writing-chair and a\nhumble letter wrote he.\n\n\n\u201cThou dog, King K\u00e1lin! Give me the space of three years, give me three\nyears and three months, three months and also three days, that I may\nclean the arrow-straight streets and the great Courts of the Prince,\nand make sweet strong drinks and place them in the town of Kiev and in\nall the broad streets and in in all the alleys of the glorious\nprincedom.\u201d\n\n\nThe Prince sent off this humble letter to that dog, King K\u00e1lin. And the\ndog, King K\u00e1lin gave him the space of three years, three years and\nthree months, three months and three days. And day after day the rain\nit rained, and week after week it ran like a river, and the time went\nby\u2014the three years and three months and three days; and then came the\ndog, King K\u00e1lin. Came beneath the town of Kiev with his great army.\n\nThen Prince Vlad\u00edmir of royal Kiev began to walk up and down, and tears\nof grief flowed from his bright eyes. With a kerchief of silk the\nPrince wiped his eyes, and he spoke these words:\n\n\u201cThe old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, lives no longer, none is there to\ndefend the Faith and Country; none to defend the Church of God and Kiev\ntown; none to protect Vlad\u00edmir the Prince and the Princess Apr\u00e1xia!\u201d\n\nThen came to him his dear daughter, and spoke to him these words:\n\n\u201cO my dear father, Prince Vlad\u00edmir of royal Kiev, the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1\nof M\u00farom, is yet alive, he is alive in the cold dungeon.\u201d\n\n\n\nThen Prince Vlad\u00edmir quickly brought the golden keys and went to the\ncold dungeon, and soon unlocked the doors and opened the iron grating.\nAnd there was the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, sitting there in the\ndungeon, reading the Holy Gospels.\n\nAnd there were down pillows and feather beds, and warm coverlets had\nbeen brought there, and changes of apparel and delicate food provided.\n\n\n\nAnd the Prince took Ily\u00e1 by his white hands and by his golden ring, and\nled him from the cold dungeon, brought him to his white stone palace,\nand placed him near himself. He kissed Ily\u00e1 and welcomed him, and\ninvited him to the oaken table, and gave him sugar sweetmeats to eat\nand drink made from honey. Then spoke the Prince to Ily\u00e1 these words:\n\n\u201cOld Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! Taken is our town of Kiev. The dog, King\nK\u00e1lin, has surrounded Kiev town with his great army. Do thou defend our\nFaith and Country and glorious Kiev town, and defend the Church of the\nMother of God, and Vlad\u00edmir thy Prince and the Princess Apr\u00e1xia.\u201d\n\n\n\nThen the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, went out from the palace of white\nstone, and walked through the town of Kiev to his dwelling of white\nstone. He asked for his beloved steed, and went to the broad yard and\ninto the stable, and looked at his good war horse. And Ily\u00e1 said:\n\n\u201cMy beloved steed! My trusty and unchanging servant! Well hast thou\nbeen looked to, my hero horse.\u201d\n\nHe kissed him on his sweet mouth, led the good horse from the stable\nstall and into the fine broad courtyard; and then the old Cossack began\nto saddle his good horse there. Upon the horse he put a saddle-cloth,\nand upon the saddle-cloth he laid a cloth of felt; now the saddle-cloth\nwas of silk, and upon the saddle-cloth he laid another cloth, and then\nthe Circassian saddle. But the Circassian saddle did not hold firmly,\nand Ily\u00e1 fastened it by twelve girths of silk, and he drew them up with\nsteel pins. And he fixed on stirrups of steel and buckles of red\ngold\u2014not for show, but for heroic strength. Drawn up are the girths of\nsilk, and they break not; steel and iron bend, but break not; and the\nbuckles of red gold may get wet, but they rust not.\n\n\n\nIly\u00e1 then got upon his good steed, and took with him his hero\u2019s\nweapons. His club of steel took he, and his grooved spear, his sharp\nsabre also, and his whip for the journey. And Ily\u00e1 set out from the\ntown of Kiev and rode through the open plain, and up to the Tartar\narmy. And when he came near and saw that great host, and heard the\nshouting of the men and the neighing of the horses, he began to lose\nheart. And when the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom rode through the free\nand open plain, he could not find out where the army ended. He leapt up\na high hill, looked round on all sides and looked down upon the Tartar\narmy; he could see no end or limit to it.\n\nHe came down from that high hill and rode on through the free and open\nplain, and he leapt up another high hill and looked towards the western\nside and saw some white tents standing, and by the tents stood heroes\u2019\nhorses. He hastened down from that high hill and rode through the\nfreedom of the open plain, and he came to the white tents. And when\nIly\u00e1 got down from his good horse near the white tents, there stood the\nheroes\u2019 horses. They were standing by a white linen cloth, and on the\ncloth millet and spring corn were scattered.\n\nIly\u00e1 let the silken bridle hang loose on the neck of his good hero\nhorse and urged on his horse to the white linen, saying:\n\n\u201cPleasant indeed would it be to taste it, if the heroes\u2019 horses will\nallow him upon the white linen cloth to share the millet and spring\ncorn.\u201d\n\nHis good horse stood by the linen cloth and began to eat the millet and\nspring corn, and the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom went to the white tent.\nIn the tent were twelve heroes, and the heroes were all Russian, and\nthey sat there eating bread and salt, and they were about to dine.\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 went into the tent and said:\n\n\u201cA good appetite to you, Heroes of Holy Russia, and to thee, Samson, my\ndear godfather!\u201d\n\n\u201cCome here, my dear godson!\u201d said his godfather. \u201cCome, old Cossack,\nIly\u00e1 of M\u00farom. Sit down and eat with us.\u201d\n\nAnd he stood up on his nimble feet to greet Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom. And they\ngreeted each other and kissed each other, and he made Ily\u00e1 sit at their\ntable to eat bread and salt with them. Twelve heroes were they, and\nIly\u00e1 was the thirteenth. They all ate and drank, and when they had\ndined they came away from the oaken table and made their prayer to God.\n\nThen the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, spoke and said:\n\n\u201cMy dear godfather, Samson, and you, O mighty Russian heroes! I pray\nyou saddle your good horses and ride out through the free and open\nplain to glorious, royal Kiev town. For before our town of Kiev stands\nthat dog, King K\u00e1lin with his great army. He will lay waste royal Kiev\ntown and cut the peasants to pieces. He will send the churches of God\nup in smoke; and as for Prince Vlad\u00edmir and Apr\u00e1xia the Princess, he\nwould cut off their turbulent heads. Now, come ye and defend the Faith\nand country, and defend our glorious, royal Kiev town, and protect\nPrince Vlad\u00edmir and Apr\u00e1xia the Princess.\u201d\n\nAnd Samson, his godfather, answered him:\n\n\u201cO my beloved godson, old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! We will not saddle\nour horses and ride through the free and open plain to defend our Faith\nand country, and defend royal Kiev town. We will not defend the\nchurches of God or protect Prince Vlad\u00edmir and Apr\u00e1xia the Princess.\nFor the Prince in truth has many princes and nobles, and he gives them\nfood and drink and rewards them. Nothing have we from Prince Vlad\u00edmir.\u201d\n\n\u201cO Samson, my dear god-father,\u201d said the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom,\n\u201cthis would be no good thing on our part, to stand apart when King\nK\u00e1lin lays waste Kiev town, and cuts the peasants to pieces, and sends\nthe churches of God up in smoke, and cuts off the turbulent heads of\nVlad\u00edmir the Prince and the Princess Apr\u00e1xia. Come, saddle your good\nhorses and ride through the open plain to Kiev town, to defend the\nFaith and country and glorious, royal Kiev, and to protect the churches\nof God, and Vlad\u00edmir the Prince with the Princess Apr\u00e1xia.\u201d\n\n\n\nBut unavailing were Ily\u00e1\u2019s entreaties; not one hero would join him for\nthe defence of Kiev town against the Tartar King and his hosts. Nothing\nhad they from Prince Vlad\u00edmir, so they would not help him.\n\nWhen Ily\u00e1 saw that he could not persuade them, he went out from the\nwhite tent to his good hero-horse, took him by his silken bridle and\nled him away from the white linen cloth, and from the millet and spring\ncorn. And Ily\u00e1 got upon his good steed and rode through the free and\nopen plain, and up to the great Tartar army.\n\n\n\nNo bright falcon is this attacking geese and swans and nights of grey\nducks, but a Hero of Holy Russia, advancing to attack that great host\nof Tartars.\n\nHe urged on his heroic steed, and rode on through the Tartar army. He\nbegan to ride over the Tartar soldiers and to trample them under his\nhorse\u2019s feet, to tread them under foot and slay them with his spear. He\nfought with that great army, and beat down men as if he were mowing\ngrass.\n\nHis good heroic horse spoke to him in human tongue:\n\n\u201cCome, thou glorious hero of Holy Russia! If thou dost trample down the\nTartars, thou canst not by thyself conquer this great army. Ride thou\nup to that dog, King K\u00e1lin, and to that great host of soldiers. With\nhim are mighty heroes and bold warrior-women of the plains. That dog,\nKing K\u00e1lin has had three deep trenches made in the glorious open plain.\nWhen thou ridest on the free and open plain, thou wilt beat down many\nmen of the forces, and when we come to the deep trenches I shall leap\nout of the first trench and will bear thee thence. When we come to the\nnext trench, I shall leap out and bear thee thence. But at the third\ndeep trench I shall leap out, but I shall not bear thee out of it; in\nthe deep trench wilt thou remain.\u201d\n\nNow the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, liked not this thing. In his white\nhand he took his whip with the lash of silk, and beat his horse upon\nthe ribs, and thus he spoke to his steed:\n\n\u201cO thou faithless dog! I feed and water thee and provide for thee, and\nthou wouldst leave me in the open plain, even in those deep trenches!\u201d\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 rode on through the free and open plain to that great army.\nAnd he trampled men under foot and speared them with his spear, and\nbeat them down like mowing grass.\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1\u2019s strength grew no less, and when he came to the deep trench\nhis good horse leapt out again and bore Ily\u00e1 thence, and he urged on\nhis hero-horse through the free and open plain to that great army; and\nagain he trampled the Tartars under foot, and speared them and beat\nthem down like mowing grass. And Ily\u00e1\u2019s strength grew no less; he sat\nhis good horse and grew no older. And he cut his way through with his\nhero-horse and fell into the second trench. His good steed leapt out\nand bore Ily\u00e1 thence; and Ily\u00e1 again urged on his steed through the\nfree and open plain, and again he trampled men under foot and speared\nthem, and beat down Tartars like mowing grass. And Ily\u00e1\u2019s strength\nbecame no less; he sat his good steed and grew no older; but he fell\ninto the third trench. He cut his way through the deep trench, and also\nout of the third trench leapt his good heroic steed, but Ily\u00e1 he bore\nnot out thence, for Ily\u00e1 slipped off his good horse, and in the deep\ntrench he remained.\n\n\n\nAnd there came the Tartars running to catch the good horse, but the\nheroic steed would not allow himself to be taken, but galloped away\nthrough the open plain.\n\nThen came the pagan Tartars and fell upon the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of\nM\u00farom, and they chained together his nimble feet, and bound his white\nhands, and the Tartars said:\n\n\u201cCut off his turbulent head.\u201d\n\nBut some of the Tartars said:\n\n\u201cThere is no need to cut off his turbulent head; we will lead Ily\u00e1 to\nthe dog, King K\u00e1lin, and what he commands that must we do.\u201d\n\nAnd they took Ily\u00e1 through the open plain to that pavilion of white\nlinen, and led him in to the dog, King K\u00e1lin, and placed him before the\nKing, and spoke thus to King K\u00e1lin:\n\n\u201cNow, O King K\u00e1lin, we have taken the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, and\nhave brought him to thee, O King. Do to him as thou wilt.\u201d\n\nThen the dog, King K\u00e1lin spoke to Ily\u00e1, and said:\n\n\u201cNow, thou old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! A young puppy have they let\nloose against my great army! How couldst thou alone overcome my great\nhost? Unchain Ily\u00e1\u2019s nimble feet and unloose his white hands.\u201d\n\nSo the Tartars removed the bonds from his feet and hands, and the dog,\nKing K\u00e1lin said:\n\n\u201cNow old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom! Sit down with me at my table, and eat\nof my sugar sweetmeats and drink of my honey drink. Wear my costly\ngarments, and take from my chest of gold what thou needest. Serve no\nlonger the Prince Vlad\u00edmir, but serve the dog, King K\u00e1lin.\u201d\n\nAnd Ily\u00e1 answered the King:\n\n\u201cI will not sit at the same table with thee, nor eat thy sugar\nsweetmeats, nor drink of thy honey drinks. I will not wear thy costly\ngarments, nor take gold from thy chest. I will not serve thee, thou\ndog, King K\u00e1lin, but will serve my Faith and country, and defend the\nchurches of God and Vlad\u00edmir the Prince and the Princess Apr\u00e1xia.\u201d\n\n\n\nThen went forth the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, from that tent of white\nlinen, into the free and open plain. And the pagan Tartars began to\npress upon him and tried to surround him, hoping to gain possession of\nthe old Cossack\u2019s gear. Ily\u00e1 saw that he must bestir himself, and he\nseized a Tartar by his feet and began to swing him round, began to\nstrike the Tartars with the Tartar, till they began to flee from him.\nAnd the old Cossack went thus through the whole Tartar army, and came\nforth into the free and open plain, and cast the Tartar on one side.\n\n\n\nThen Ily\u00e1 walked on through the open plain, and he had neither horse\nnor weapons, but he whistled a mighty whistle, and his good steed heard\nhim on the open plain, and galloped to the old Cossack his master. The\nold Cossack, Ily\u00e1 got upon his good steed and rode on through the plain\ntill he came to a high hill, and he leapt up the hill and looked down\ntowards the west. And in the west near the white tents stood the good\nhorses of the heroes. Ily\u00e1 turned that way with his good war-horse. He\ntook his strong bow and bent it with his white hands. He tightened the\nbowstring of silk, placed the sharp arrow, and into the white tent shot\nhe that arrow, saying:\n\n\u201cFly, O sharp arrow, fly to the white tent. Take the roof off the white\ntent, and go, thou arrow, to the white breast of my godfather. Creep\nthou into his breast and make a scratch, only a small scratch, a small\nscratch, not a large one. He sleeps there and takes his ease, and\nlittle can I do here alone.\u201d\n\nAnd he let go the silken bowstring and sent off that sharp arrow, and\nthat sharp arrow whistled into that hero\u2019s white tent. It took the roof\noff the white tent and fell upon the white breast of Samson. It crept\ninto his white breast and made but a small prick, and Samson, the\nrenowned hero of Holy Russia, woke up from his deep sleep and opened\nhis bright eyes. Quickly he stood upon his nimble feet and cried:\n\n\u201cHo! my renowned heroes of Holy Russia! Quickly saddle your good horses\nand mount them. From my beloved godson has flown a sharp arrow through\nmy glorious white tent. From my tent it took the roof, and the arrow\ncrept into my white breast, made a small prick, not a large one. The\ncross at my neck preserved me, Samson, the cross at my neck weighing\nforty stone. Had that cross not been upon my breast, my tempestuous\nhead would have been torn off.\u201d\n\n\n\nThen all those heroes of Holy Russia quickly saddled their good horses\nand rode through the open plain, towards Kiev town, to the Tartar army.\n\nAnd from the high hill the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1 of M\u00farom, saw them, as\nthey rode their good horses. He came down from the high hill and rode\nto meet the Russian heroes. Twelve in number were the heroes and Ily\u00e1\nwas the thirteenth.\n\nThey rode up to the Tartar host and pushed on their heroic steeds and\nbegan to fight the Tartar army. And they were trampling on the great\narmy, and they came to the linen tent.\n\nAnd in the tent that dog, King K\u00e1lin was sitting, and the heroes said:\n\n\u201cWe will cut off the turbulent head of that dog, King K\u00e1lin.\u201d\n\n\u201cWhy should we cut off his turbulent head?\u201d said the old Cossack, Ily\u00e1\nof M\u00farom. \u201cWe will take him to royal Kiev town, to the glorious Prince\nVlad\u00edmir.\u201d\n\nSo to the glorious Prince Vlad\u00edmir at the royal town of Kiev they took\nthe dog, King K\u00e1lin. To the white stone palace they took him, and\nVlad\u00edmir, Prince of royal Kiev, took that dog by his white hands and\nmade him sit at the oaken table, gave him sugar sweetmeats to eat and\nhoney drink to drink.\n\nAnd to Vlad\u00edmir the Prince spoke King K\u00e1lin these words:\n\n\u201cCome now, Vlad\u00edmir, Prince of royal Kiev, do not cut off my warlike\nhead. We will write between us a great writing, and I, King K\u00e1lin, will\npay thee tribute for ever and ever\u2014I to thee, Prince Vlad\u00edmir!\u201d\n\nAnd then in those good old times they all sang Glory!\n\n\n\nAnd so they had peace for a time, but fresh hordes of Tartars still\ncame, and the Russian heroes fought them, and sometimes the Russians\ncould not overcome the Tartars, and in one of these great fights Ily\u00e1,\nthey say, was caught away from the fighting, and he was turned into\nstone, and his good horse with him.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nNOTE\n\n\n[1] The Russian titles are translated in the List of Illustrations, p.\nxv.","title":"Byliny Book: Hero Tales of Russia","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":14940}