Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library)

by Afanas'Ev, Aleksandr

  On the third day the princess came to the castle, and Ivan marveled when he saw that she herself, her retinue, and their horses had all become white to their knees. “Thanks, soldier, for your loyal service,” she said. “How is God favoring you?” “So far I am safe and sound, Your Highness!” “Well, try to be brave this last night. Here is a sheepskin for you; put it on, or the devils will get at you with their claws. They are terribly angry now.” They sat at table together, ate, drank, and made merry; then the princess said farewell and left, and Ivan donned the sheepskin, made the sign of the cross, and lay down on his bed.

  On the stroke of midnight a storm roared, and the whole castle shook with the clatter and thunder; a numberless host of devils came—lame ones, one-eyed ones, and many other kinds. They fell upon Ivan, crying: “Take the scoundrel, grab him, pull him!” They set to scratching him with their claws; one seized him, another seized him, but all the claws remained stuck in the sheepskin. “No, brothers, apparently one can’t get him that way,” one said. “Let us then take his own father and mother and skin them alive!” That very minute they dragged in Ivan’s parents and began to skin them with their claws. The father and mother cried: “Ivan, dear son, have pity on us, leave that bed! It is because of you that we are being skinned alive.” But Ivan lay without stirring or saying a word. Then the cocks crowed and suddenly everything vanished, as though it had never been there.

  In the morning the princess came. Her horses were white, her retinue were white, and she herself was all pure and so beautiful that one cannot imagine a more beautiful lady: one could see her marrow flowing from bone to bone. “You have seen terrors,” she said to Ivan, “but there won’t be any more. Thanks for your kindness; now let us hasten away from here.” “No, princess,” said Ivan, the merchant’s son, “let us rather rest for an hour or two.” “What are you saying?” she asked. “If we stay here to rest we shall perish.” They left the castle and set out on their way. After they had gone some distance, the princess said: “Look back, goodly youth, and see what is happening behind you.” Ivan looked back, and not a trace was left of the castle; it had fallen through the ground, and where it had stood flames were blazing.

  “We would have perished in those flames if we had lingered there,” said the princess, and handed him a purse. “Take it. This is not an ordinary purse; if you need money, just shake it, and at once gold pieces will pour out of it, as many as your heart desires. Go now, pay your debt to the innkeeper, and come to such and such an island; I shall wait for you near the cathedral. There we shall attend mass and be married: you shall be my husband and I will be your wife. But mind you, don’t be late; if you cannot come today, come tomorrow; if you cannot come tomorrow, come the day after; but if you miss on three days, you will never see me again.”

  They took leave of each other; the princess went to the right and Ivan to the left. He came to the inn, shook his purse before the host, and gold poured out of it. “Well, brother,” said Ivan, “you thought a soldier has no money, and so he can be taken as a bondslave for three years; but you were wrong. Take what I owe you.” He paid the innkeeper three hundred rubles, mounted on his horse, and rode where he had been told to go. “What a marvel! Whence did he get this money?” thought the innkeeper’s wife. She consulted her books and saw that he had rescued the enchanted princess and that the princess had given him a purse that would keep him supplied with money forever. She called a boy, sent him to graze cows in the field, and gave him a magic apple. “A soldier will approach you and ask you for water to drink,” she said. “But tell him that you have no water and give him this juicy apple instead.”

  The boy drove the cows to the field. As soon as he was there—lo and behold—Ivan, the merchant’s son, rode up to him. “Ah, brother,” he said, “don’t you have some water to drink? I am terribly thirsty.” “No, soldier,” the boy replied, “water is far from here. But I have a juicy apple; if you wish, eat it, maybe it will refresh you.” Ivan took the apple, ate it, and was overwhelmed by heavy sleep; he slept for three days without awakening. The princess waited in vain for her betrothed, for three days in succession; then she decided that it was not her fate to be married to him. She sighed, seated herself in her carriage and drove off. She saw a boy grazing cows. “Little herdsman, have you not seen a goodly youth, a Russian soldier?” she asked. “He has been sleeping under this oak for three days,” answered the boy.

  The princess looked—and there was her soldier. She began to nudge him, in order to rouse him; but no matter how hard she tried, she could not awaken him. She took a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote this note: “Unless you go to such and such a ferry, you will not get to the thrice tenth kingdom and you will not be my husband.” She put the note into Ivan’s pocket, kissed him as he lay asleep, wept bitter tears, and drove far, far away.

  Later at night Ivan awakened and did not know what to do. The boy said to him: “A lovely maiden has been here, and she was so well dressed! She tried to rouse you, but could not awaken you. So she wrote a note that she put in your pocket; then she got into her carriage and left.” Ivan said his prayers to God, bowed low to all sides, and rode to the ferry.

  After a long time or a short time he arrived there and cried to the ferrymen: “Hey, brothers, take me to the other side as fast as you can—and here is your pay in advance!” He drew out his purse, shook it, and filled their boat with gold. The ferrymen gasped. “But where are you going, soldier?” “To the thrice tenth kingdom.” “Well, brother, by the roundabout way, it takes three years to get to that kingdom; by the straight way, it takes three hours. But there is no passage by the straight way.” “Then what shall I do?” “Listen and we’ll tell you. A griffin comes here; it is as big as a mountain, it seizes all kinds of carrion and takes it to the other shore. So do you cut open your horse’s belly, and clean it and wash it, and we will sew you into it. The griffin will seize the carcass, carry it to the thrice tenth kingdom, and throw it to his young. Then do you crawl out of the horse’s belly as fast as you can and go where you want to go.”

  Ivan cut off his horse’s head, cut open his belly, cleaned it and washed it, and crawled inside; the ferrymen sewed up the horse’s belly and hid themselves. Suddenly the griffin came flying, as big as a mountain; he seized the carcass, took it to the thrice tenth kingdom, threw it to his young, then flew away to look for new prey. Ivan cut open the horse’s belly, crawled out, went to the king, and asked to be taken into his service. And in that thrice tenth kingdom the griffin was doing much mischief; every day they had given him a man to devour, otherwise he would have ruined the whole kingdom.

  The king thought and thought, wondering what to do with Ivan, and then ordered him to be exposed to the vicious bird. The king’s warriors took him, brought him to a garden, put him beside an apple tree, and said: “Guard this tree and let not a single apple disappear.” Ivan stood on guard, when suddenly the griffin flew down, as big as a mountain. “Good day, brave youth,” he said. “I did not know you were in the horse’s belly, else I would have eaten you long ago.” “God alone knows whether you would have eaten me or not,” said Ivan. The monstrous bird dropped one lip to the ground and lifted the other high like a roof; he was ready to devour the goodly youth. Ivan swung his bayonet and pinned the lower lip of the griffin firmly to the damp earth; then he drew out his saber and began to lash out at the griffin. “Ah, goodly youth,” said the bird, “don’t cut me! I will make you a champion. Take the phial from under my left wing and drink from it, and you’ll see for yourself.”

  Ivan took the phial, drank from it, felt great strength in himself, and attacked the bird even more fiercely than before; he just swung out and cut. “Ah, goodly youth, don’t cut me!” cried the griffin. “I will give you a second phial, from under my right wing.” Ivan drank from the second phial, felt even greater strength in himself, and kept striking the griffin. “Ah, goodly youth, don’t cut me!” the griffin begged. “I will guide you to your fortune. There are green meadow
s here; in these meadows grow three tall oaks, under those oaks are iron doors, and behind those doors are champion steeds; a time will come when they will be useful to you.” Ivan listened to the bird, but kept on cutting him nonetheless; he cut the griffin into little pieces and gathered them into a huge pile.

  Next morning the king summoned before him the general on duty and said: “Go and gather the bones of Ivan, the merchant’s son; although he is from a foreign land, it is not fitting that human bones should lie about unburied.” The general on duty rushed to the garden and saw that Ivan was alive and that the griffin was cut into shreds. He reported this to the king, who was overjoyed, praised Ivan, and gave him a letter patent written in his own hand, stating that Ivan had permission to go everywhere in the kingdom and eat and drink in all the inns and alehouses without paying.

  Ivan, the merchant’s son, having received his letter patent, went to the richest inn, drank ten gallons of wine, ate ten loaves of bread and half an ox, returned to the king’s stable, and lay down to sleep. He lived thus in the king’s stable for three full years. Then the princess appeared—she had taken the roundabout route. Her father was overjoyed and began to question her: “My beloved daughter, who rescued you from your bitter fate?” “Such and such a soldier, the son of a merchant.” “He came here and did me a great service—he cut the griffin to pieces,” the king said. What was there to talk about? Ivan, the merchant’s son, was wedded to the princess, and a feast was given for all the people, and I was there and drank wine; it ran down my mustache but did not go into my mouth.

  Shortly afterward the three-headed dragon wrote to the king: “Give me your daughter or I’ll burn your whole kingdom with fire and scatter the ashes.” The king was grieved, but Ivan, the merchant’s son, drank ten gallons of wine, ate ten loaves of bread and half an ox, rushed to the green meadows, raised an iron door, led out a champion steed, donned his steel sword and his battle mace, mounted the steed, and went forth to do battle. “Eh, goodly youth,” said the dragon, “what are you trying to do? I will put you on one hand, and beat you with the other, and only a damp spot will remain where once you were.” “Don’t boast; say your prayers first,” answered Ivan. He swung his steel sword and cut off all of the dragon’s three heads at once. Then he conquered the six-headed dragon, and then the twelve-headed one, and his strength and valor became famous in all lands.

  THE RAVEN AND THE LOBSTER

  A RAVEN FLEW above the sea, looked down, and saw a lobster. She grabbed him and took him to the woods, intending to perch somewhere on a branch and eat a good meal. The lobster saw that his end was coming and said to the raven: “Eh, raven, raven, I knew your father and mother, they were fine people!” “Humph!” answered the raven, without opening her mouth. “And I know your brothers and sisters, too; what fine people they are!” “Humph!” “But although they are all fine people, they are not equal to you. I think that in the whole world there is no one wiser than you.” “Aha!” cawed the raven, opening her mouth wide, and dropped the lobster into the sea.

  PRINCE IVAN, THE FIREBIRD, AND THE GRAY WOLF

  IN A CERTAIN LAND in a certain kingdom, there lived a king called Vyslav Andronovich. He had three sons: the first was Prince Dimitri, the second Prince Vasily, and the third Prince Ivan. King Vyslav Andronovich had a garden so rich that there was no finer one in any kingdom. In this garden there grew all kinds of precious trees, with and without fruit; one special apple tree was the king’s favorite, for all the apples it bore were golden.

  The firebird took to visiting King Vyslav’s garden; her wings were golden and her eyes were like oriental crystals. Every night she flew into the garden, perched on King Vyslav’s favorite apple tree, picked several golden apples from it, and then flew away. King Vyslav Andronovich was greatly distressed that the firebird had taken so many apples from his golden apple tree. So he summoned his three sons to him and said: “My beloved children, which of you can catch the firebird in my garden? To him who captures her alive I will give half my kingdom during my life, and all of it upon my death!” His sons, the princes, answered in one voice: “Your Majesty, gracious sovereign, little father, with great joy will we try to take the firebird alive!”

  The first night Prince Dimitri went to keep watch in the garden. He sat under the apple tree from which the firebird had been picking apples, fell asleep, and did not hear her come, though she picked much golden fruit. Next morning King Vyslav Andronovich summoned his son Prince Dimitri to him and asked: “Well, my beloved son, did you see the firebird or not?” The prince answered: “No, gracious sovereign, little father! She did not come last night!”

  The next night Prince Vasily went to keep watch in the garden. He sat under the same apple tree; he stayed one hour, then another hour, and finally fell so sound asleep that he did not hear the firebird come, though she picked many apples. In the morning King Vyslav summoned his son to him and asked: “Well, my beloved son, did you see the firebird or not?” “Gracious sovereign, little father, she did not come last night!”

  The third night Prince Ivan went to keep watch in the garden and sat under the same apple tree; he sat one hour, a second hour, and a third—then suddenly the whole garden was illumined as if by many lights. The firebird had come; she perched on the apple tree and began to pick apples. Prince Ivan stole up to her so softly that he was able to seize her tail. But he could not hold the firebird herself; she tore herself from his grasp and flew away. In Prince Ivan’s hand there remained only one feather of her tail, to which he held very fast. In the morning, as soon as King Vyslav awoke from his sleep, Prince Ivan went to him and gave him the feather of the firebird. King Vyslav was greatly pleased that his youngest son had succeeded in getting at least one feather of the firebird. This feather was so marvelously bright that when it was placed in a dark room it made the whole room shine as if it were lit up by many candles. King Vyslav put the feather in his study as a keepsake, to be treasured forever. From that moment the firebird stopped visiting the garden.

  Once again King Vyslav summoned his sons and said: “My beloved children, set out. I give you my blessing. Find the firebird and bring her to me alive; and that which I promised before will go to him who brings me the firebird.” At this time Princes Dimitri and Vasily bore a grudge against their youngest brother, Ivan, because he had succeeded in tearing a feather from the firebird’s tail; they accepted their father’s blessing and together went forth to seek the firebird. But Prince Ivan too began to beg for his father’s blessing that he might go forth. King Vyslav said to him: “My beloved son, my dear child, you are still young and unused to such long and hard journeys; why should you depart from my house? Your brothers have gone; what if you too leave me and all three of you do not return for a long time? I am old now and I walk in the shadow of the Lord; if during your absence the Lord takes my life, who will rule the kingdom in my place? A rebellion might break out, or dissension among the people, and there would be no one to pacify them; or an enemy might approach our land, and there would be no one to command our troops.” But no matter how King Vyslav tried to hold Prince Ivan back, he finally had to yield to his son’s insistent prayer. Prince Ivan received his father’s blessing, chose a horse, and set out on his way; and he rode on and on, himself not knowing whither.

  He rode near and far, high and low, along by-paths and by-ways—for speedily a tale is spun, but with less speed a deed is done—until he came to a wide, open field, a green meadow. And there in the field stood a pillar, and on the pillar these words were written: “Whosoever goes from this pillar on the road straight before him will be cold and hungry. Whosoever goes to the right side will be safe and sound, but his horse will be killed. And whosoever goes to the left side will be killed himself, but his horse will be safe and sound.” Prince Ivan read this inscription and went to the right, thinking that although his horse might be killed, he himself would remain alive and would in time get another horse.

  He rode one day, then a second day, then a third
. Suddenly an enormous gray wolf came toward him and said: “Ah, so it’s you, young lad, Prince Ivan! You saw the inscription on the pillar that said that your horse would be killed if you came this way. Why then have you come hither?” When he had said these words, he tore Prince Ivan’s horse in twain and ran off to one side.

  Prince Ivan was sorely grieved for his horse; he shed bitter tears and then continued on foot. He walked a whole day and was utterly exhausted. He was about to sit down and rest for a while when all at once the gray wolf caught up with him and said: “I am sorry for you, Prince Ivan, because you are exhausted from walking; I am also sorry that I ate your good horse. Therefore mount me, the gray wolf, and tell me whither to carry you and for what purpose.” Prince Ivan told the gray wolf what errand he had come on; and the gray wolf darted off with him more swiftly than a horse, and after some time, just at nightfall, reached a low stone wall. There he stopped and said: “Now, Prince Ivan, climb down from me, the gray wolf, and climb over that stone wall; behind the wall you will find a garden, and in the garden the firebird is sitting in a golden cage. Take the firebird, but touch not the golden cage; if you take the cage, you will not escape, you will be caught at once!”