The king said to Ilya Ivanovich: “Will you do me the service that I ask you? There is a twelve-headed dragon that flies to my daughter; will you slay him?” Ilya said: “At your service, Your Royal Majesty! I will do whatever you ask me.” “Please, Ilya Ivanovich, at such and such an hour the dragon will come to see my daughter, so do your best.” “At your service, Your Royal Majesty.”
The princess lay in her room; on the stroke of twelve the dragon came to her. The dragon and Ilya began to fight; each time Ilya struck, one of the dragon’s heads rolled—one stroke, one head off. They fought for a long time or a short time, till only one head remained. And Ilya cut off the dragon’s last head: he struck it with his mace and smashed it altogether. The princess rose up joyfully, came to Ilya, and thanked him; then she told her father and mother that the dragon was dead, that Ilya had cut off all his heads. The king said: “I thank you. Won’t you serve for some time in my kingdom?” “No,” said Ilya, “I want to go to my own land.” The king let him go, giving him great honors, and he rode hack on the same road by which he had come. When he came to the first Baba Yaga to spend the night in her house, she received him with honor; when he came to the second, she too received him with all honor. He came to his own land and gave the tsar a paper from the king whom he had aided. The tsar received him with honor, and the tsar’s daughter had waited for him with great impatience. “Now, father, may I become his wife?” she said. Her father did not oppose her will. “Well, if such is your desire, marry him.” They wedded and are living to this day.
THE DEVIL WHO WAS A POTTER
A POTTER WAS DRIVING along a road when he met a passer-by, who said: “Hire me as your worker.” “But do you know how to make pots?” the potter asked him. “I do, very well indeed,” the stranger said. They made a bargain, shook hands on it, and drove on together. When they came to the potter’s home, the worker said: “Now master, prepare forty carts of clay; tomorrow I shall set to work.” The master prepared forty carts of clay, and the worker, who was an evil spirit, said to the potter: “I shall work at night; do not come to my barn.” “Why?” “Just don’t. If you do come, I warn you, you will get into trouble.” Dark night came. On the stroke of twelve, the evil spirit cried out in a loud voice, and a numberless host of imps gathered around him and began to fashion pottery; thunderous pounding, clatter and laughter resounded all over the yard. The master could not restrain himself and went to see what all the noise was about. He came to the barn, looked through a crack, and saw the devils squatting there and molding pots. Only one lame one was not working, but keeping watch; he caught sight of the master, seized a lump of clay, hurled it, and hit the potter straight in the eye. The master returned to his house; he had lost one eye, and in the barn there was even more uproarious laughter than before.
In the morning the worker said: “Eh, master, go and count the pots, see how many have been made in one night.” The master counted: there were forty thousand. “Well,” the worker said, “now prepare ten cords of wood for me; tonight I will bake the pots.” Exactly at midnight the evil spirit cried out in a loud voice; imps came running to him from every corner; they smashed up all the pots, threw the shards into the oven, and began to bake them. And the master came to the barn and found a little crack and looked in. “Well, all the pots are broken,” he thought. Next day the worker called him and said: “Come and see how well I have worked.” The master came to look and found that all of the forty thousand pots were whole—one was better than the other. On the third night the evil spirit called the imps together, painted the pots with various colors, and put them all on one cart.
They waited till market day and carried the pots to town to sell them, and the evil spirit ordered his imps to run to all the houses, through all the streets, and invite the people to buy the pots. Crowds came to the market, thronged around the potter, and in half an hour bought all his merchandise. The peasant drove home with a bagful of money. “Now,” said the evil spirit, “let us share the profits.” They shared half-and-half. The devil took his lot, said farewell to the master, and vanished. A week later the peasant went to town with his pots. He stood in the market place a long time, but no one bought from him; all the people passed him by and swore at him in the most abusive language. “We know your pots, you old dotard. They look pretty, but the moment you put water into them they fall to pieces. No, brother, you won’t cheat us again.” They ceased buying pots from him altogether. Finally the peasant was completely ruined. Out of grief he took to drinking and began to spend all his time lying around in alehouses.
CLEVER ANSWERS
A SOLDIER HAD SERVED in his regiment for fully twenty-five years without ever having seen the tsar in person. When he returned home and was questioned about the tsar, he did not know what to say. His parents and friends began to taunt him. “You served for twenty-five years,” they said, “yet you never saw the tsar.” The soldier felt humiliated, so he made ready and went to have a look at the tsar. He came to the palace. The tsar asked him: “What have you come for, soldier?” “Your Majesty, I served you and God for a full twenty-five years, yet I never saw you in person; so I have come to look at you.” “Well, look your fill.” The soldier walked around the tsar three times examining him. The tsar said: “Am I’handsome?” “Yes, Your Majesty,” answered the soldier. “And now, soldier, tell me—is it far from heaven to earth?” “It is so far that when a noise is made there, we can hear it here.” “And is the earth wide?” “The sun rises over there and sets over here: that’s the width of the earth.” “And is the earth deep?” “I had a grandfather who died about ninety years ago. He was buried in the earth and since then has never come home; so it must be deep.” Then the tsar sent the soldier to prison, saying: “Keep your eyes open, soldier! I will send you thirty geese; try to pluck a feather out of each one.” “Very well,” the soldier said.
The tsar summoned thirty wealthy merchants and proposed the same riddles to them that he had proposed to the soldier; they racked their brains but were unable to answer the questions, and the tsar ordered them to be put in prison. The soldier asked them: “Honorable merchants, why have you been imprisoned?” “The tsar asked us how far heaven is from earth, how wide the earth is, and how deep it is; but we are uneducated people and could not find the answers.” “If each one of you will give me a thousand rubles, I will tell you the answers.” “Gladly, brother, only tell us.”
The soldier took a thousand rubles from each and told them how to solve the tsar’s riddles. Two days later the tsar summoned the merchants and the soldier before him; he proposed the same riddles to the merchants, and as soon as they answered correctly, he let them go. Then he said to the soldier: “Well, have you managed to pluck a feather from each?” “Yes, Your Majesty, and it was a golden feather, too.” “And how far is it to your home?” “It cannot be seen from here, so it must be far.” “Here is a thousand rubles for you; God speed you.” The soldier returned home and began to live a carefree and easy life.
DIVIDING THE GOOSE
ONCE THERE WAS a poor peasant who had many children, but no possessions except one goose. He saved this goose for a long time; but hunger is nothing to be trifled with—and things had reached such a point that he had nothing to eat. So the peasant killed the goose, roasted it, and put it on the table. So far, so good; but he had no bread and not a grain of salt. He said to his wife: “How can we eat the goose without bread or salt? Perhaps I should take the goose to the barin as a gift and ask him for bread.” “Well, go with God,” said his wife.
The peasant came to the barin and said: “I have brought you a goose as a gift. You are welcome to all I have; do not disdain it, little father.” “Thanks, peasant, thanks; now divide the goose among us, without doing wrong to anyone.” Now this barin had a wife, two sons, and two daughters—all in all there were six in his family. The peasant was given a knife and he began to carve and divide the goose. He cut off the head and gave it to the barin. “You are the head of the house,”
he said, “so it is fitting that you should have the head.” He cut off the pope’s nose and gave it to the barin’s wife, saying: “Your business is to sit in the house and take care of it: so here is the pope’s nose for you.” He cut off the legs and gave them to the sons, saying: “Here is a leg for each of you, to trample your father’s paths with.” And to each daughter he gave a wing. “You won’t stay long with your father and mother; when you grow up, off you will fly. And I,” he said, “I’m just a stupid peasant, so I’ll take what is left.” Thus he got most of the goose. The barin laughed, gave the peasant wine to drink, rewarded him with bread, and sent him home.
A rich peasant heard about this, envied the poor one, roasted five geese, and took them to the barin. “What do you want, peasant?” asked the barin. “I have brought Your Grace five geese as a gift.” “Thanks, brother! Now apportion them among us without doing wrong to anyone.” The peasant tried this and that, but saw no way of dividing the geese equally. He just stood there scratching his head. The barin sent for the poor peasant and told him to divide the geese. He took one goose, gave it to the barin and his wife, and said: “Now you are three.” He gave another goose to the two sons and a third one to the two daughters, saying: “Now you also are threes.” The last pair of geese he took for himself, saying: “Now I and the geese are another three.” The barin said: “You are a clever fellow; you have managed to give everyone an equal share and you have not forgotten yourself either.” He rewarded the poor peasant with money and drove out the rich one.
THE FEATHER OF FINIST, THE BRIGHT FALCON
ONCE THERE LIVED an old man who had three daughters: the two elder ones were fond of frills and furbelows, but the youngest was concerned only with household tasks. One day the father made ready to go to town and asked his daughters what they wanted him to buy for them. The eldest said: “Buy me cloth for a dress.” The second said the same thing. “And what shall I buy for you, my beloved daughter?” the father asked the youngest. “My dear father, buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.” The father said farewell to them and went to town; he bought enough cloth for dresses for his two elder daughters, but nowhere could he find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon. He returned home, and his elder daughters were overjoyed with their new cloth. “But I could not find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon for you,” he said to the youngest. “So be it,” she said, “perhaps next time you will have better luck.” The elder sisters cut their cloth, made themselves dresses, and made fun of their younger sister, but she only kept silent.
The father again made ready to go to town and asked: “Well, my daughters, what shall I buy for you?” The first and the second each asked for a kerchief, but the youngest said: “Buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.” The father went to town, bought two kerchiefs, but could not find the feather. He returned home and said: “Ah, my daughter, again I could not find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.” “Never mind, father, perhaps you will have better luck next time.”
The father made ready to go to town a third time and asked his daughters what he should buy for them. The elder ones said: “Buy us earrings.” But the youngest again said: “Buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.” The father bought two pairs of gold earrings and began to look for the feather, but no one had ever heard of that falcon; he became sad and left town. He had no sooner passed through the gate than he met an old man carrying a little box. “What are you carrying, old man?” “A feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.” “What do you want for it?” “I’ll take a thousand.” The father paid this sum and galloped home with the little box. His daughters came out to meet him. “Well, my beloved daughter,” he said to the youngest, “at last I have brought a present for you. Take it.” The youngest daughter almost jumped with joy; she took the box, began to kiss and fondle it, and pressed it tightly to her bosom.
After supper all of them went to their rooms to sleep; the youngest daughter too went to her room, and opened her box; the feather of Finist the Bright Falcon flew out at once; it struck the floor and a handsome prince appeared before the maiden. They began to speak to each other, with sweet and loving words. The elder sisters overheard them and asked: “Little sister, with whom are you talking?” “With myself,” said the lovely maiden. “Well then, open the door.” The prince struck the floor and turned into a feather; the maiden put the feather back in the box and opened the door. The sisters looked in all the corners but found no one. As soon as they had left the lovely maiden opened the window, took out the feather, and said: “Fly, my feather, into the open field; stay there until the right time comes.” The feather turned into a bright falcon and flew into the open field.
The next night Finist the Bright Falcon came flying to his maiden; they began to talk merrily. The elder sisters overheard them and straightway ran to their father. “Father, someone comes to see our sister at night; even now he is in there talking with her.” The father arose and went to his youngest daughter’s room, but the prince had long since turned into the feather and lay in the box. “Ah, you malicious girls,” the father scolded his elder daughters, “why do you accuse her falsely? Better mind your own business.”
The next day the sisters hit upon a ruse: at nightfall, when the yard was quite dark, they took a ladder, gathered sharp knives and needles, and stuck them in the lovely maiden’s window. At night Finist the Bright Falcon came flying. He struggled and struggled, but could not get into the room; he only cut his wings. “Farewell, lovely maiden,” he said, “if you decide to find me, look for me beyond thrice nine lands, in the thrice tenth kingdom. But before you can find me, the goodly youth, you will wear out three pairs of iron shoes, break three cast-iron staves, and gnaw away three stone wafers.” But the maiden slept on; although she heard these unkind words in her sleep, she could not waken and arise.
In the morning she woke and saw knives and needles stuck in the window, and blood trickling from them. She wrung her hands. “Ah my God! My sisters must have killed my beloved!” Straightway she made ready and left home. She ran to a smithy, forged for herself three pairs of iron shoes and three cast-iron staves, provided herself with three stone wafers, and set out to seek Finist the Bright Falcon.
She walked and walked, and wore out one pair of shoes, broke one cast-iron staff, and gnawed away one stone wafer. She came to a hut and knocked at the door. “Host and hostess,” she said, “shelter me from the dark night!” An old woman answered: “You are welcome, lovely maiden! Whither are you going, little dove?” “Ah, grandmother! I am going in search of Finist the Bright Falcon.” “Well, lovely maiden, you have a long way to go.” Next morning the old woman said: “Go now to my second sister, she will tell you what to do. And here is my gift to you—a silver spinning wheel and a golden spindle. You will spin a spindleful of flax and draw out a golden thread.” Then she took a ball, rolled it out to the road, and told the maiden to follow the ball wherever it went. The maiden thanked the old woman and followed the ball.
After a long time or a short time, the second pair of shoes was worn out, the second staff was broken, and another stone wafer gnawed away; finally the ball rolled up to a little hut. The maiden knocked at the door, saying: “My good hosts, shelter a lovely maiden from the dark night!” “You are welcome,” answered an old woman. “Whither are you going, lovely maiden?” “Grandmother, I am going in search of Finist the Bright Falcon.” “You have a long way to go,” said the old woman. Next morning, she gave the maiden a silver dish and a golden egg. “Go to my elder sister,” she said. “She will know where to find Finist the Bright Falcon.”
The lovely maiden said farewell to the old woman and set out on her way. She walked and walked, and the third pair of shoes was worn out, the third staff was broken, and the last wafer gnawed away, when the ball rolled up to a little hut. The traveler knocked at the door and said: “My good hosts, shelter a lovely maiden from the dark night.” Again an old woman came out. “Come in, little dove, you are welcome! Whence come you and w
hither are you going?” “Grandmother, I go in search of Finist the Bright Falcon.” “Oh, it is hard, very hard to find him! He is now living in such and such a town, and is married to the wafer baker’s daughter there.” In the morning the old woman said to the lovely maiden: “Here is a gift for you—a golden embroidery frame and a needle; just hold the frame and the needle will embroider by itself. Now God speed you, and ask the wafer baker to hire you as her serving maid.”
The lovely maiden did as she was bid. She came to the wafer baker’s house and became a servant; she worked hard and quickly, heating the stove, carrying water, cooking the dinner. The wafer baker looked on and was delighted. “Thank God,” she said to her daughter, “we now have a servant who is willing and intelligent; she does everything without having to be told.” And the lovely maiden, having done all the housework, took her silver loom and her golden spindle and sat down to spin; she spun, drawing threads from the flax, and the threads were not ordinary ones but of pure gold. The wafer baker’s daughter saw this and said: “Ah, lovely maiden, won’t you sell me your wheel and spindle?” “I might.” “And what is your price?” “Let me spend one night with your husband.” The wafer baker’s daughter consented. “There is no harm in it,” she thought. “After all, I can give him a sleeping potion, and with that spindle my mother and I will enrich ourselves.”
Finist the Bright Falcon was not at home; all day long he soared in the skies, returning only at nightfall. They sat down to supper; the lovely maiden served the viands and kept looking at him, but he, the goodly youth, did not recognize her. The wafer baker’s daughter added a sleeping potion to his drink, put him to bed, and said to the servant: “Now go to his room and chase the flies from him.” The lovely maiden chased the flies and shed bitter tears. “Awake, arise, Finist the Bright Falcon! I, the lovely maiden, have come to you; I have broken three cast-iron staves, worn out three pairs of iron shoes, and gnawed three stone wafers, and all that time I have been seeking you.” But Finist slept on and did not hear anything; thus the night went by.
Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 56
