Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library)

by Afanas'Ev, Aleksandr

  The bear jumped close to them and was about to seize them, but the bullock strained, and pasted the bear’s eyes shut with dung. The bear rushed to the blue sea to wash his eyes, while the bullock ran on and on. After the bear had washed himself he again pursued them. “Ah, bullock, bullock! The bear is after us.” “Is he far behind us?” “Oh no, quite close!” The bear jumped close to them, and again the bullock strained, and pasted the bear’s eyes with dung. While the bear ran to wash them, the bullock kept on and on. He plastered the bear’s eyes for the third time, and then gave Prince Ivan a comb and a towel and said: “When the bear comes close to us again, the first time cast the comb behind you and the second time wave the towel.”

  The bullock ran on, farther and farther. Prince Ivan looked back and saw that King Bear was pursuing them and was about to catch them! He took the comb and cast it behind him, and suddenly such a thick forest sprang up that through it bird could not fly nor beast crawl nor man walk nor horse gallop. The bear gnawed and gnawed; with great effort he gnawed out a very narrow path for himself, got through the thick forest, and rushed on in pursuit of the tsar’s children; but they were far, far off! Finally the bear began to overtake them. Ivan Tsarevich looked back, waved the towel behind him, and suddenly a lake of fire spread out, immensely wide! The waves surged from one end to the other. King Bear stood some time on the shore, then turned back home. Soon the bullock and Prince Ivan and Princess Maria came to a glade.

  In that glade stood a large and magnificent house. “Here is a house for you,” said the bullock. “Live here without care. And now prepare a woodpile in the yard, slaughter me on it, and then burn me.” “Ah,” said the tsar’s children, “why should we slaughter you? Rather, live with us; we will take care of you, feed you fresh grass, and bring you spring water to drink.” “No, burn me and plant the ashes on three beds: from the first a horse will jump out, from the second a dog, and on the third an apple tree will grow. You, Prince Ivan, will ride on this horse, and with this dog go hunting.” They did as he commanded.

  One day Prince Ivan decided to go hunting; he said farewell to his sister, mounted his horse, and went to the woods. He killed a goose and a duck and caught a live wolf cub and brought it home. The young prince saw that he was lucky at hunting, so he went again, shot all kinds of game birds, and caught a live bear cub. The third time Prince Ivan went hunting, he forgot to take his dog with him. Meanwhile Princess Maria went to the lake to wash clothes. As she washed, a six-headed dragon came flying to the other shore of the lake of fire, changed into a handsome man, saw the princess, and said to her in a sweet voice: “Greetings, lovely maiden!” “Greetings, good youth!” “The old wives say that in former times this lake did not exist; if a high bridge spanned it, I would come to the other side and marry you.” “Wait! A bridge will be here in a trice!” answered Princess Maria and waved her towel. In that instant the towel spread out in an arc and hung above the lake like a high and beautiful bridge. The dragon crossed it, changed into his former shape, put Prince Ivan’s dog under lock and key, and cast the key into the lake; then he seized the princess and carried her off.

  Prince Ivan came back from the hunt and found his sister gone, and the imprisoned dog howling; he saw the bridge across the lake and said: “A dragon must have carried Maria away!” He went to seek her. He walked and walked until, in an open field, he found a hut on chicken legs and dog’s heels. “Little hut, little hut,” he said, “turn your back to the woods and your front to me!” The hut turned around; Prince Ivan entered, and in it, stretched from corner to corner, lay Baba Yaga the Bony-legged, with her nose grown into the ceiling. “Fie, fie!” she said. “Hitherto one never heard a Russian breath, and now a Russian breath has come into view and thrusts itself under one’s very nose! Why have you come, Prince Ivan?” “To ask your help in my misfortune.” “And what is your misfortune?” The prince told her. “Well,” she said, “go home. In your yard there is an apple tree. Break three green twigs from it, weave them together, and strike the lock where the dog is locked up; the lock will at once break into little pieces. Then go boldly forth to fight the dragon; he won’t be able to resist you.”

  Prince Ivan returned home and freed his dog, who ran out in great anger. He also took the wolf cub and bear cub with him and set out against the dragon. When they found the dragon, the beasts threw themselves upon him and tore him to shreds. And Prince Ivan took Princess Maria home and they began to live happily together and to prosper.

  MAGIC

  ONCE THERE LIVED an old man and an old woman who had a son. The old man was poor; he wanted to place the boy as an apprentice, that he might rejoice his parents in his youth, help them in their old age, and pray for their souls after their death. But what could he do, having no wealth? He led his son through many cities, hoping that someone would take him as an apprentice; but no, no one wanted to take him without being paid for it. The old man returned home, wept and wept with his wife, grieved over his poverty, and again led his son to the city.

  They had no sooner come to the city than a man met them and asked: “Why are you so sad, old man?” “How can I help being sad?” said the old man. “I have been leading my son for many months, but no one wants to teach him a trade without being paid for it, and I have no money.” “Give him to me,” said the man. “In three years I will teach him all kinds of crafts. And in three years, on the same day, at the same hour as now, come for your son. But mind you: if you are not late, if you come on time and recognize your son, you can have him back. If you do not, he will have to remain with me.” The old man was so overjoyed that he did not ask who the man was, where he lived, or what he would teach his son. He left his son with him and went home. He returned joyfully and told his wife all that had happened. But the man he had met was a magician.

  Three years went by; the old man had completely forgotten on what day he had placed his son as an apprentice and did not know what to do. But one day before the term was up the son came flying to him in the shape of a little bird, struck the mound of earth near the house, and entered as a goodly youth. He bowed to his father and said that on the following day the old man would have to come for him because the term of three years would then be up; and he told his father where to come and how to recognize him. “I am not my master’s only apprentice,” he said. “There are eleven others who have remained with him forever because their parents could not recognize them; and if you fail to recognize me, I shall be the twelfth to remain with him forever. Tomorrow, when you come for me, our master will set all twelve of us free in the shape of white doves, all alike, feather for feather, tail for tail and head for head. But do you look carefully: all of them will soar high, but I will fly slightly higher than the others. The master will ask: ‘Do you recognize your son?’ Then do you point at the dove that flies highest. Then he will lead twelve colts before you—all of the same color, all with their manes on the same side, and all alike. When you pass by these colts, watch carefully: I will stamp my right foot. The master will ask again: ‘Do you recognize your son?’ And do you point boldly at me. Then he will lead twelve good youths before you, all alike, body for body, hair for hair, voice for voice, all the same in face and in dress. When you pass by these youths, watch carefully: a little fly will sit on my right cheek. The master will ask you again: ‘Do you recognize your son?’ And do you point at me.”

  He said all this, took leave of his father, and went forth from the house, struck the mound of earth, turned into a bird, and flew to his master. Next morning the old man arose, made ready, and went for his son. He came to the magician. “Well, old man,” said the magician, “I have taught all kinds of crafts to your son. But if you do not recognize him, he must stay with me for all eternity.” Then he set free twelve white doves, all alike, feather for feather, tail for tail, head for head, and said: “Now find your son, old man!” How could he recognize his son, since the birds were all alike? He looked and looked, and when one dove soared higher than the others, he poin
ted at it, saying: “I think this one is mine.” “You have recognized him, old man,” said the magician.

  Next he led out twelve colts, all alike, with their manes on one side. The old man began to walk around the colts and to look, and the master asked him: “Well, grandfather, have you recognized your son?” “Not yet—wait a while,” said the old man. But when he saw one colt stamping its right foot, he straightway pointed at it, saying: “I think this one is mine.” “You have recognized him, old man.” Finally, twelve good youths came forth, all alike, body for body, hair for hair, voice for voice, with faces all alike, as though they had been borne by one mother. The old man passed by the youths once and did not notice anything; he passed by a second time and still did not notice anything. But the third time he saw a fly sitting on the right cheek of one youth and said: “I think this one is mine.” “You have recognized him, old man,” said the master. The magician had no choice now; he gave the old man his son, and they went home together.

  They walked and walked and saw a nobleman driving on the road. “Father,” said the son, “I shall now turn into a dog. The nobleman will want to buy me; sell me, but do not sell my collar, for then I will not return to you.” Having said this, he struck the earth and turned into a dog. The nobleman saw that the old man was leading a dog and began to bargain for it; he did not like the dog so much as he liked the collar. The nobleman offered a hundred rubles, the old man asked three hundred; they bargained and bargained, and in the end the nobleman bought the dog for two hundred rubles. When the old man began to remove the collar from the dog, the nobleman protested loudly; he insisted on having it. “I did not sell the collar,” said the old man, “I sold only the dog.” But the nobleman replied: “No, you are lying! He who bought the dog, bought him with his collar.” The old man thought and thought that after all one cannot buy a dog without a collar, and gave it to the new owner. The nobleman put the dog in his carriage and the old man took the money and went home.

  The nobleman drove and drove, when all of a sudden a hare ran across the road. “I will set the dog on the hare and see him run,” thought the nobleman. He let the dog go and watched; the hare ran off on one side, the dog on the other, and both vanished into the woods. The nobleman waited and waited for the dog, then lost patience and went home with nothing, and the dog turned into a good youth. Meanwhile the old man walked and walked along the broad road thinking to himself: “How can I show myself at home, how can I tell my wife what I have done with my son?” Then his son overtook him. “Eh, father,” he said, “why did you sell me with my collar? If we had not happened to meet a hare, I should never have returned, I should have been lost for nothing!”

  They returned home and lived fairly comfortably. After a long time or a short time, the son said one Sunday to his father: “Father, I will turn into a bird. Do you take me to market and sell me; only do not sell my cage, for then I shall not return home.” He struck the earth and turned into a bird; the old man put him in a cage and carried it to market. People thronged around the old man, vying with each other to buy the bird, so greatly did he charm their souls. The magician also came, recognized the old man at once, and guessed what kind of bird was in his cage. One man offered a high price, another a still higher price, but the magician offered most of all. The old man sold him the bird but refused to give him the cage; the magician argued with him and insisted, but all to no avail. The buyer took the bird without the cage, wrapped it in a handkerchief, and took it home. “Well, little daughter,” he said at home, “I have bought our rascal.” “Where is he?” The magician opened his handkerchief, but the bird was gone—it had flown away.

  Another Sunday came. The son said to his father: “Father, now I will turn into a horse. Mind you, sell the horse, but not the bridle; else I shall not return home.” He struck the damp earth and turned into a horse; the old man led it to market. Horse dealers thronged around the old man; some offered a high price, others a still higher price, but the magician offered most of all. The old man sold him the horse but refused to give him the bridle. “How shall I lead the horse?” said the magician. “Let me bring him to my yard at least, and then you can have your bridle; I won’t need it.” All the horse dealers began to remonstrate with the old man, saying that this was the custom—that if he sold the horse, he also had to sell the bridle. What could he do? He gave away the bridle.

  The magician brought the horse to his courtyard, put it in a stable, tethered it firmly to a ring, and stretched its head up high. The horse stood only on its hind legs; its forelegs did not touch the ground. “Well, daughter,” the magician said again, “this time I have bought our rascal.” “Where is he?” “In the stable.” The daughter ran to see him; she took pity on the goodly youth, she wanted to loosen the reins, and began to disentangle and untie them. The horse wrested himself free and ran away. The daughter rushed to her father. “Father,” she said, “forgive me! An evil thought confused me, the horse ran away.”

  The magician struck the damp earth, turned into a gray wolf, and ran in pursuit; he was close behind the horse now—at any moment he would overtake him. The horse came to a river, struck the ground, turned into a perch, and—plop!—into the water he jumped. But the wolf plunged after him in the shape of a pike. The perch swam and swam, came near to a jetty where lovely maidens were washing linen, turned into a golden ring, and rolled to the feet of a merchant’s daughter. The merchant’s daughter picked up the ring and hid it. The magician again turned into a man and said to her: “Give me back my golden ring.” “Take it!” said the maiden and threw the ring on the ground. When it struck the ground, it shattered into tiny seeds of grain. The magician turned into a cock and rushed to peck the grain; while he pecked it, one seed of grain turned into a hawk. And that was too bad for the cock: the hawk tore him to pieces!

  This is the end of my tale, and now I would not mind having a glass of vodka.

  THE ONE-EYED EVIL

  ONCE THERE WAS a blacksmith. “How is it,” he said, “that I have never seen trouble? It is said that there is evil in the world; I will go and search for it.” No sooner said than done; he drank heartily and went forth in search of evil. He met a tailor. “Good day,” the blacksmith said. “Good day. Where are you going?” “Well, brother, everyone says that there is evil in the world; I have never seen it, so I am searching for it.” “Let us go together. I too live well and have never seen evil; let us go and look for it.” They walked and walked, till they came to a forest, deep and dark; they found a little path and walked along it. They walked and walked along this narrow path, and finally they beheld a big hut. It was night, they had no shelter. “Let us go into this house,” they said. They entered; no one was there, it was empty and uncomfortable. They sat down and waited. In came a tall woman, scrawny, crooked, one-eyed. “Aha,” she said, “I have guests. Good evening!” “Good evening, grandmother! We have come to spend the night in your house.” “That is fine; I will get something for supper.” They took fright. She went out and brought in a huge load of wood; she put it in the stove and made a fire. She came to them, took one of them, the tailor, slew him, and put him to roast in the oven.

  The blacksmith sat there and wondered what he could do. She ate her supper. The blacksmith looked into the stove and said: “Grandmother, I am a blacksmith.” “What can you forge?” “I can forge everything.” “Then forge me an eye.” “I will,” he said. “But do you have a piece of rope? For I must tie you, otherwise you will resist.” She brought two ropes, one thick and the other thin. He tied her with the thin rope. “Now, grandmother, turn around.” She turned around and broke the rope. “No,” he said, “this piece is no good.” He took the thick rope and fastened her tightly with it. “Turn around, grandmother!” She turned and this time did not break the rope. He took an awl, heated it, put it on her good eye, took an ax, and drove in the awl with the butt of it. She gave a turn, broke the rope, and sat on the threshold. “Ah, you scoundrel, now you won’t get away from me!”

&
nbsp; He saw that things looked bad for him and sat wondering what he could do. Later sheep came from the field; the woman drove them into her house to spend the night. The blacksmith also slept there. In the morning she began to let out the sheep. He took a sheepskin, turned the wool side out, put his arms through the sleeves, and crawled toward her like a sheep. She let out the sheep one by one, seizing them roughly by their rumps and throwing them out. Now the blacksmith came up to her; she seized him too by his rump and threw him out. When he was outside, he got up and said: “Farewell, Evil! I have suffered evil from you, but now you cannot do anything to me.” She said: “Wait, you will still suffer; you have not got away yet.”

  The blacksmith again followed the narrow path in the forest. He saw an ax with a golden handle stuck into a tree and wanted to take it. When he seized this ax, his hand stuck to it. What could he do? There was no way of wresting his hand free. He looked back; Evil was coming up to him, crying: “There you are, you scoundrel, you have not got away!” The blacksmith took out a knife that he had in his pocket and began to saw his wrist; he cut off his hand and went away. He came back to his village and showed his stump to everybody as proof that he had seen evil. “See what it is like,” he said. “It has left me without a hand and it ate up my companion altogether.”

  And that is the end of my tale.

  SISTER ALIONUSHKA, BROTHER IVANUSHKA

  ONCE THERE LIVED a king and a queen; they had a son and a daughter, called Ivanushka and Alionushka. When their parents died the children remained alone and went wandering in the wide world. They walked and walked and walked till they saw a pond, and near the pond a herd of cows was grazing. “I am thirsty,” said Ivanushka. “I want to drink.” “Do not drink, little brother, or you will become a calf,” said Alionushka. The brother heeded her and they went on farther; they walked and walked and saw a river, and near it a drove of horses. “Ah, little sister,” Ivanushka said, “if you only knew how thirsty I am!” “Do not drink, little brother, or you will become a colt.” Ivanushka heeded her, and they went on farther; they walked and walked and saw a lake, and near it a flock of sheep. “Ah, little sister, I am terribly thirsty,” Ivanushka said. “Do not drink, little brother, or you will become a sheep.” Ivanushka heeded her and they went on farther; they walked and walked and saw a stream, and near it pigs were feeding. “Ah, little sister, I must drink,” Ivanushka said. “I am frightfully thirsty.” “Do not drink, little brother, or you will become a piglet.” Ivanushka heeded her again and they went on farther; they walked and walked and saw a flock of goats grazing near a well. “Ah, little sister, now I must drink,” Ivanushka said. “Do not drink, little brother, or you will become a kid.” But he could not restrain himself and did not heed his sister; he drank from the well, and became a kid. He leaped before Alionushka and cried: “Maa-ka-ka! maa-ka-ka!”