Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics)

by Unknown

  ‘Maryushka, don’t say such things! How can I leave you out? I can’t not get you a fairing.’

  ‘I don’t need a fairing,’ said the youngest daughter. ‘But, dear Father, buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon, if it’s not expensive.’

  The father rode off to market. He bought all the presents his elder daughters required, but nowhere could he find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.

  ‘No,’ the merchants all said, ‘nothing of the kind exists. There’s no demand.’

  The father did not want to upset his clever, hard-working youngest daughter, but what could he do? Back home he went – without having bought a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.

  But Maryushka was not upset at all.

  ‘Never mind, Father,’ she said. ‘You’ll be going to market again – one day you’ll find yourself buying me my feather!’

  Time passed – and the father needed to go to market again. He asked his daughters what presents they wanted; he was a kind and good father.

  The eldest daughter said, ‘Last time, Father, you brought me some little boots. Now you must get the blacksmiths to heel them with little horse-shoes.’

  The middle daughter heard her sister and said, ‘And do the same for me, Father. Else the heels just tap on the ground. I want them to ring. And so I don’t lose the little nails from the horse-shoes, buy me a little silver hammer so I can hammer them in.’

  ‘And what shall I buy you, Maryushka?’

  ‘Have a look round, Father. See if you can find a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon.’

  The old man rode off to the market. He soon finished his business and bought his two elder daughters their presents. Then he looked for Maryushka’s feather. He looked and looked. He looked till nightfall, but the feather was nowhere to be found. No one was selling it.

  Again he came back with no present for his youngest daughter. He felt sorry for Maryushka, but she just smiled at her father. She was happy simply to be seeing her dear father again.

  Once again the time came for the father to go to the market.

  ‘Well, dear daughters, what gifts would you like me to buy you?’

  The eldest daughter thought and thought, but she couldn’t think what she wanted. ‘Father!’ she said. ‘Buy me something!’

  The middle daughter said, ‘Buy me something too, Father, and then buy me something else on top of that something.’

  ‘What about you, Maryushka?’

  ‘Just buy me a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon, Father.’

  The old man rode off to the market. He finished his business and bought his two elder daughters their presents. But he didn’t buy anything for his youngest daughter. Nowhere in the market was there any such feather.

  On his way home the father saw someone walking along the road. It was an old old man, even older than he was – an ancient old man.

  ‘Greetings, Grandad!’

  ‘Greetings, my friend! Why are you looking so sad?’

  ‘How can I not look sad? My daughter keeps asking me to buy her a feather of Finist the Bright Falcon. I’ve searched and searched, but it’s nowhere to be found. And it’s for my youngest daughter, the one I cherish most of all.’

  The old old man thought for a while – and then said, ‘Well, so be it!’

  He untied his knapsack and took out from it a little box.

  ‘Keep the box somewhere safe,’ he said. ‘Inside it is a feather from Finist the Bright Falcon. Now then, don’t forget my words: I have a son, and I cherish him as you cherish your daughter. It’s time he got married, but he doesn’t want to marry and I can’t force him. And he keeps saying, “If anyone asks for this little feather, give it to them. She who asks for this feather will be my bride.” ’

  The old old man came to the end of his words – and suddenly he wasn’t there any more. He had vanished. Had he ever really been there at all?

  Maryushka’s father was left with the feather. It was a grey and ordinary little feather, but nowhere had he been able to buy it. The father remembered what the old old man had said and thought, ‘Well, it seems this will be my Maryushka’s fate: to marry an unknown stranger – a man she’s never known and never seen.’

  The father returned home. He gave the elder daughters their presents, and he gave his youngest daughter the little box with the little grey feather.

  The elder daughters put on their fine dresses and began to make fun of their sister. ‘Stick that sparrow’s feather into your hair,’ they said, ‘and you’ll find you look fairer than fair!’

  Maryushka did not say a word, but when everyone had lain down to sleep, she took the plain, grey feather of Finist the Bright Falcon, placed it on the table in front of her and sat down to wonder at it. Then she picked the little feather up in her hands, held it for a while to her breast, stroked it and inadvertently dropped it onto the floor.

  Straight away someone knocked at the window. The window opened, and in flew Finist the Bright Falcon. He flew down to touch the floor – and turned into a handsome young man. Maryushka closed the window, and she and her young man began talking their talk. When it was nearly morning, she opened the window. The young man bowed down to touch the floor – and turned into a bright falcon. The falcon left one little plain grey feather as a keepsake and flew off into the blue sky.

  Three nights Maryushka welcomed the falcon. All day he flew about the sky, over fields and forests, over mountains and oceans; towards evening he flew to his Maryushka and turned into a handsome young man.

  The fourth night the elder sisters heard Maryushka’s quiet voice. They also heard the voice of a strange young man. In the morning they asked, ‘Well, sister, who is it you talk to at nights?’

  ‘I say a few words to myself,’ Maryushka answered. ‘I have no friends and I work all day. There’s no time to talk. In the evenings I talk to myself a little.’

  The elder sisters listened to their younger sister and did not believe her. They said to their father, ‘Father, our Marya’s got herself a young man. They see each other at night and talk to each other. We’ve heard them.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be listening,’ said the father. ‘Why shouldn’t our Maryushka have a young man? There’s nothing wrong in that. She’s a pretty girl, and she’s of the right age. Very soon it will be your turn too.’

  ‘But it’s my turn now. I’m older than Marya and I should be marrying first. Marya hasn’t waited her turn – she shouldn’t have found her betrothed before me.’

  ‘True enough,’ agreed the father. ‘But fate’s fate – what does fate know about turns? One girl stays an old maid to the end of her days, while another is courted by everyone.’

  So the father spoke, but as he spoke he was thinking, ‘Could it be that the words of the old old man who gave me the feather are coming true now? Maybe they are, and maybe it’s no bad thing – I just pray fate has sent her a good man!’

  But the two elder daughters had wishes of their own. Towards evening they took some knives from the kitchen, pulled off the handles and went into Maryushka’s room. Then they stuck these knives, together with some sharp needles and bits of old glass, around the frame of the window. Maryushka was out in the shed just then, looking after the cow, and she didn’t see any of this.

  And then, when it was dark, Finist the Bright Falcon flew down to Maryushka’s window. He flew to the window – and struck against the sharp knives and needles and slivers of glass. He struggled and struggled and tore open all his chest. But Maryushka was worn out from her day’s work and she’d dozed off while she was waiting for Finist the Bright Falcon. She didn’t hear him beating his wings in the window.

  Then Finist said in a loud voice, ‘Goodbye, my fair maiden! If you need me, you will find me, even though I am far away! But on your way to me you will wear out three pairs of iron shoes, you will wear down three iron staffs against the wayside grass and you will gnaw your way through three stone loaves.’1

  Maryushka heard Finist’s words
through her sleep, but she was unable to awake or get to her feet. Only the following morning did she awake, and then her heart filled with grief. She looked at the window – and there was Finist’s blood, drying in the sun. Then she began to weep. She opened the window and buried her face in the spot where she could see the blood of Finist-Falcon. Her tears washed away the falcon’s blood, and she herself – as if she had washed in the blood of her betrothed – grew still more beautiful.

  Maryushka went to her father and said, ‘Don’t be angry with me, Father – but give me leave to set out on a distant path. If I stay alive, we’ll see each other again. But if I die, then that’s how it was fated.’

  The father didn’t want to give his dearest, youngest daughter leave to set off who knows where. But how could he keep her at home against her will? He knew that a girl’s loving heart is more powerful than the will of a mother or father. He bid his beloved daughter farewell.

  The blacksmith forged Maryushka three pairs of iron shoes and three iron staffs. She took three stone loaves. Then she bowed to her father and her sisters, paid a last visit to her mother’s grave and set off in search of Finist the Bright Falcon.

  Maryushka walked and walked. She followed her long path for more than a day, more than two days, more than three days. She walked for a long time. She walked through open steppe and dark forests. She crossed high mountains. Birds sang songs to her in the fields; the dark forests treated her kindly; from high up in the mountains she wondered at the whole world. She walked so far that she wore out one pair of iron shoes and one of her iron staffs. She had gnawed her way through a whole stone loaf, but there was still no end to her path. Nowhere was there any sign of Finist the Bright Falcon.

  Maryushka let out a sigh, sat down on the ground and was just putting on her second pair of iron shoes when she saw a little hut in the forest. Night had already fallen.

  Maryushka said to herself, ‘I’ll go into that little hut and ask if they have seen my Finist the Bright Falcon.’

  Maryushka knocked at the hut. In it lived an old woman. Whether she was kind or wicked Maryushka did not know. The old woman opened the door. Before her stood a beautiful young maiden.

  ‘Grandmother, let me stay the night with you!’

  ‘Come in, my little dove, and be my guest! Are you going far?’

  ‘Far or near, Grandmother, I don’t know. I’m looking for Finist the Bright Falcon. You haven’t heard anything of him, have you, Grandmother?’

  ‘What do you mean? I’m old, I’ve been in the world a long time, I’ve heard of everyone. You’ve got a long way to go, my dear.’

  In the morning the old woman woke Maryushka and said to her, ‘You must go on your way now, my dear. You must go and speak to my middle sister. She’s older than me and she knows more. Maybe she can set you on a good path and tell you where your Finist now lives. But so you don’t forget me, take this silver distaff and golden spindle. They will spin you a gold thread out of plain flax. Take care of my gift as long as it’s dear to you. But if you no longer need it, give it away.’

  Maryushka took the gift, wondered at it and said to her host, ‘Thank you, Grandmother. Now tell me which way I should go!’

  ‘I’m going to give you a little ball of yarn that rolls all by itself. Whichever way the ball rolls, that’s where you should go. And when you need a rest, just sit down on the grass. The ball will stop and wait till you’re ready.’

  Maryushka bowed to the old woman and set off after the ball. She walked on and on – she lost count of how many days she had walked. She did not spare herself – even though the forests she walked through were dark and terrible, even though the fields were full of thistles instead of wheat, even though the mountains were gaunt and rocky and no birds sang in the sky above her. Maryushka walked ever further – and ever faster. Before she knew it, she had to change her shoes again. She had worn out a second pair of iron shoes; she had ground away a second iron staff; she had gnawed her way through a second stone loaf.

  Maryushka sat down to change her shoes. She looked round. Night was setting in. Not far away was a black forest, and on the edge of the forest was a little hut. In the window a light was being lit.

  Her little ball rolled up to this hut. Maryushka followed it and knocked on the window. ‘Good people!’ she called out. ‘Let me come in!’

  An old woman came out onto the porch. She was older than the woman who had taken Maryushka in before.

  ‘Where are you going, fair maiden? Who in the world are you searching for?’

  ‘I’m searching for Finist the Bright Falcon, Grandmother. I stayed the night with an old woman in a forest. She had heard of Finist but never seen him. She told me that maybe her sister would know more.’

  The old woman invited Maryushka into her hut. In the morning she woke her guest and said, ‘You’ll have to go a long way if you’re going to look for Finist. I’ve often heard about Finist, but never have I set eyes on him. You must go now to our eldest sister – she’s sure to be able to help you. And so you don’t forget me, take this as a gift. It’ll be a keepsake in joy, and a help in need.’

  And the old woman gave her guest a silver saucer and a golden egg.

  Maryushka asked the old woman’s forgiveness, bowed to her and set off after the little ball.

  Maryushka walked on. The earth she was walking over was no longer the earth she knew.

  No longer was there any open steppe around her – only forest. And the further the ball rolled, the taller the trees grew. It turned dark. She could no longer see the sun and the sky.

  But Maryushka went on through the darkness. She walked and walked – until she had worn out her last pair of iron shoes, until she had ground down her last iron staff, until she had eaten the last crumb of her last stone loaf.

  She looked around her: what was she to do? She saw her little ball. It was lying beneath the window of a little hut in the forest.

  Maryushka knocked at this window. ‘Kind people,’ she called out, ‘shelter me from the dark night!’

  Out onto the porch came an ancient old crone – the very eldest sister of all the old women.

  ‘Come inside, my little dove!’ she said. ‘What a long, long way you’ve come! No one lives beyond me in the world – I’m as far as you can go. Tomorrow you’ll have to head in a different direction. But who are your people and where are you going?’

  ‘I’m not from these parts, Grandmother,’ replied Maryushka. ‘I’m searching for Finist the Bright Falcon.’

  The eldest of the old women looked at Maryushka and said, ‘So you’re looking for Finist the Falcon, are you? I know him, yes, I know him all right. I’ve been living a long time, so long I’ve got to know everyone. I remember everyone.’

  The old woman put Maryushka to bed. In the morning she woke her up and said, ‘It’s a long time since I’ve done anyone any good. I live alone in the forest. I remember everyone, but no one remembers me. I shall do you a good turn – I can tell you where your Finist the Bright Falcon lives. But even if you find him, it will be hard for you. Finist-Falcon’s married now. He lives with his wife. It will be hard for you. But still, you have a good heart – and a good heart always brings with it good sense. And good sense makes light work of even the very hardest of tasks.’

  ‘Thank you, Grandmother,’ said Maryushka. And she bowed low, right down to the ground.

  ‘You can thank me afterwards. Now here’s a little present for you. Take this golden needle and embroidery frame: hold the frame – and the needle will sew of itself. Well, be off with you now. You’ll see what to do next as you go along.’

  The little ball didn’t roll any further. The eldest old woman came out onto the porch and showed Maryushka which way to go.

  Maryushka set off as she was, with no shoes on her feet. ‘How am I to keep going?’ she wondered. ‘The earth here is hard and strange underfoot. I must learn to get used to it.’

  She walked a short way. She came to a clearing. In it stood a
splendid house. It had a tower, and the porch and the window frames were finely carved. A rich, important-looking woman was sitting by one of the windows. She was looking at Maryushka: what was this young girl doing here?

  Maryushka remembered: she had nothing to put on her feet and she had gnawed her way through her last stone loaf.

  ‘Greetings, mistress!’ she said. ‘Do you need any work done – in return for bread and shoes and clothing?’

  ‘I do,’ replied the important-looking woman. ‘But do you know how to take care of the stove and fetch water and cook dinner?’

  ‘I lived with a father and no mother. I can do everything.’

  ‘And can you spin and sew and embroider?’

  Maryushka remembered the presents the three old grandmothers had given her.

  ‘Yes,’ she said.

  ‘Go along to the kitchen then,’ said the mistress of the house.

  And so Maryushka began to work as a servant, a stranger in a rich household. Her hands were honest and diligent – there was no task they couldn’t perform.

  The mistress of the house could hardly believe her luck. She had never had a maid who was so hard-working, so kind and so quick-witted. She ate plain bread, and she washed it down with kvass. She never even asked for tea. The mistress began to boast to her daughter:

  ‘Look what a good maid I’ve found. She’s clever and willing and she’s got such a sweet face.’

  The mistress’s daughter looked at Maryushka.

  ‘Bah!’ she said. ‘Maybe she does have a sweet face, but I’m more beautiful than her and my skin’s whiter.’

  That evening, when she’d finished her household tasks, Maryushka sat down to do some spinning. She sat down on the bench, got out the silver distaff and golden spindle and began to spin. She span – and the thread she span from the flax tow was not an ordinary thread, but a golden thread. She span – and as she span, she looked into the silver distaff and there in the distaff she could see Finist the Bright Falcon. There he was – alive and looking at her. Maryushka looked at him and began to speak to him: