granny!’
‘Hail, Prince Ivan! wherefore have you come? Is it of your own accord, or on compulsion?’
‘I have come to earn from you an heroic steed.’
‘So be it, Prince! You won’t have to serve a year with me, but just three days. If you take good care of my mares, I’ll give you an heroic steed. But if you don’t—why, then you mustn’t be annoyed at finding your head stuck on top of the last pole up there.’
Prince Ivan agreed to these terms. The Baba Yaga gave him food and drink, and bade him set about his business. But the moment he had driven the mares afield, they cocked up their tails, and away they tore across the meadows in all directions. Before the Prince had time to look round they were all out of sight. Thereupon he began to weep and to disquiet himself, and then he sat down upon a stone and went to sleep. But when the sun was near its setting the outlandish bird came flying up to him, and awakened him, saying:
‘Arise, Prince Ivan! The mares are at home now.’
The Prince arose and returned home. There the Baba Yaga was storming and raging at her mares, and shrieking:
‘Whatever did ye come home for?’
‘How could we help coming home?’ said they. ‘There came flying birds from every part of the world, and all but pecked our eyes out.’
‘Well, well! to-morrow don’t go galloping over the meadows, but disperse amid the thick forests.’
Prince Ivan slept all night. In the morning the Baba Yaga says to him:
‘Mind, Prince! if you don’t take good care of the mares, if you lose merely one of them—your bold head will be stuck on that pole!’
He drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their tails and dispersed among the thick forests. Again did the Prince sit down on the stone, weep and weep, and then go to sleep. The sun went down behind the forest. Up came running the lioness.
‘Arise, Prince Ivan! The mares are all collected.’
Prince Ivan arose and went home. More than ever did the Baba Yaga storm at her mares and shriek:
‘Whatever did ye come back home for?’
‘How could we help coming back? Beasts of prey came running at us from all parts of the world, and all but tore us utterly to pieces.’
‘Well, to-morrow run off into the blue sea.’
Again did Prince Ivan sleep through the night. Next morning the Baba Yaga sent him forth to watch the mares.
‘If you don’t take good care of them,’ says she, ‘your bold head will be stuck on that pole!’
He drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their tails, disappeared from sight, and fled into the blue sea. There they stood, up to their necks in water. Prince Ivan sat down on the stone, wept, and fell asleep. But when the sun had set behind the forest, up came flying a bee, and said:
‘Arise, Prince! The mares are all collected. But when you get home, don’t let the Baba Yaga set eyes on you, but go into the stable and hide behind the mangers. There you will find a sorry colt rolling in the muck. Do you steal it, and at the dead of night ride away from the house.’
Prince Ivan arose, slipped into the stable, and lay down behind the mangers, while the Baba Yaga was storming away at her mares and shrieking:
‘Why did ye come back?’
‘How could we help coming back? There came flying bees in countless numbers from all parts of the world, and began stinging us on all sides till the blood came!’
The Baba Yaga went to sleep. In the dead of the night Prince Ivan stole the sorry colt, saddled it, jumped on its back, and galloped away to the fiery river. When he came to that river he waved the handkerchief three times on the right hand, and suddenly, springing goodness knows whence, there hung across the river, high in the air, a splendid bridge. The Prince rode across the bridge and waved the handkerchief twice only on the left hand; there remained across the river a thin, ever so thin a bridge!
When the Baba Yaga got up in the morning the sorry colt was not to be seen! Off she set in pursuit. At full speed did she fly in her iron mortar, urging it on with the pestle, sweeping away her traces with the broom. She dashed up to the fiery river, gave a glance, and said, ‘A capital bridge!’ She drove on to the bridge, but had only got half-way when the bridge broke in two, and the Baba Yaga went flop into the river. There truly did she meet with a cruel death!
Prince Ivan fattened up the colt in the green meadows, and it turned into a wondrous steed. Then he rode to where Marya Morevna was. She came running out, and flung herself on his neck, crying:
‘By what means has God brought you back to life?’
‘Thus and thus,’ says he. ‘Now come along with me.’
‘I am afraid, Prince Ivan! If Koshchei catches us you will be cut in pieces again.’
‘No, he won’t catch us! I have a splendid heroic steed now; it flies just like a bird.’ So they got on its back and rode away.
Koshchei the Deathless was returning home when his horse stumbled beneath him.
‘What art thou stumbling for, sorry jade? Dost thou scent any ill?’
‘Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.’
‘Can we catch them?’
‘God knows! Prince Ivan has a horse now which is better than I.’
‘Well, I can’t stand it,’ says Koshchei the Deathless. ‘I will pursue.’
After a time he came up with Prince Ivan, lighted on the ground, and was going to chop him up with his sharp sword. But at that moment Prince Ivan’s horse smote Koshchei the Deathless full swing with its hoof, and cracked his skull, and the Prince made an end of him with a club. Afterwards the Prince heaped up a pile of wood, set fire to it, burnt Koshchei the Deathless on the pyre, and scattered his ashes to the wind. Then Marya Morevna mounted Koshchei’s horse and Prince Ivan got on his own, and they rode away to visit first the Raven, and then the Eagle, and then the Falcon. Wherever they went they met with a joyful greeting.
‘Ah, Prince Ivan! why, we never expected to see you again. Well, it wasn’t for nothing that you gave yourself so much trouble. Such a beauty as Marya Morevna one might search for all the world over—and never find one like her!’
And so they visited, and they feasted; and afterwards they went off to their own realm.3
3. Ralston.
THE BLACK THIEF AND KNIGHT OF THE GLEN.
In times of yore there was a King and a Queen in the south of Ireland who had three sons, all beautiful children; but the Queen, their mother, sickened unto death when they were yet very young, which caused great grief throughout the Court, particularly to the King, her husband, who could in no wise be comforted. Seeing that death was drawing near her, she called the King to her and spoke as follows:
‘I am now going to leave you, and as you are young and in your prime, of course after my death you will marry again. Now all the request I ask of you is that you will build a tower in an island in the sea, wherein you will keep your three sons until they are come of age and fit to do for themselves; so that they may not be under the power or jurisdiction of any other woman. Neglect not to give them education suitable to their birth, and let them be trained