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RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 BY 
 
 W. R. S. RALSTON, M.A. 
 
 OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM 
 
 CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY OF RUSSIA 
 
 AUTHOR OF 'THE SONGS OF THE RUSSIAN PEOPLE' 
 
 'KRJLOF AND HIS FABLES' ETC. 
 
 
 LONDON 
 i 
 
 SMITH, ELDER, & CO., 15 WATERLOO PLACE 
 1873 
 
 A II rights reserved 
 
GENERAL 
 
'Co tljc isft^eniorp of 
 ALEXANDER AFANASIEF 
 
 | JUbitate tijis 
 
 TO HIM SO DEEPLY INDEBTED 
 
 98027 
 
PREFACE 
 
 r I ^HE STORIES contained in the following pages arc 
 taken from the collections published by Afanasief, 
 Khudyakof, Erlenvein, and Chudinsky. The South-Russian 
 collections of Kulish and Rudchenko I have been able to 
 use but little, there being no complete dictionary available 
 of the dialect, or rather the language, in \vhich they are 
 written. Of these works that of Afanasief is by far the 
 most important, extending to nearly 3,000 pages, and con- 
 taining 332 distinct stories of many of which several vari- 
 
 < 
 
 ants are given, sometimes as many as five. Khudyakof s 
 collection contains 122 skazkas as the Russian folk-tales 
 are called Erlenvein's 41, and Chudinsky's 31. Afanasief 
 has also published a separate volume, containing 33 
 ' legends/ and he has inserted a great number of stories of 
 various kinds in his ' Poetic views of the Old Slavonians 
 about Nature,' a work to which I have had constant re- 
 course. 
 
 From the stories contained in what may be called the 
 'chap-book literature' of Russia I have made but few 
 extracts. It may, however, be as well to say a. few words 
 about them. There is a Russian word lub t diminutive lubok 
 
viii PREFACE 
 
 meaning the soft bark of the lime tree, which at one time 
 was used instead of paper. The popular tales which 
 were current in former days were at first printed on sheets 
 or strips of this substance, whence the term lubochnuiya 
 came to be given to all such productions of the cheap press, 
 even after paper had taken the place of bark. 1 
 
 The stories which have thus been preserved have no 
 small interest of their own, but they cannot be considered 
 as fair illustrations of Russian folk-lore, for their compilers 
 in many cases took them from any sources to which they 
 had access, whether eastern or western, merely adapting 
 what they borrowed to Russian forms of thought and speech. 
 Through some such process, for instance, seem to have 
 passed the very popular Russian stories of Eruslan Lazare- 
 vich and of Bova Korolevich. They have often been 
 quoted as ' creations of the Slavonic mind,' but there seems 
 to be no reason for doubting that they are merely Russian 
 adaptations, the first of the adventures of the Persian 
 Rustem, the second of those of the Italian Buovo di Antona, 
 our Sir Bevis of Hampton. The editors of these 'chap- 
 book skazkas ' belonged to the pre-scientific period, and had 
 a purely commercial object in view. Their stories were 
 intended simply to sell. 
 
 A German version of seventeen of these ' chap-book 
 tales/ to which was prefixed an introduction by Jacob 
 Grimm, was published some forty years ago, 2 and has been 
 
 1 So our word 'book,' the German Buch^ is derived from the Buche or 
 beech tree, of which the old Runic staves were formed. Cf. liber and /3i'/3Aoy. 
 
 2 ' Russische Volksmarchen in den Urschriften gesammelt und ins Deutsche 
 ubersetzt von A. Dietrich.' Leipzig, 1831. 
 
PREFACE ix 
 
 translated into English. 1 Somewhat later, also, appeared a 
 German version of twelve more of these tales. 2 
 
 Of late years several articles have appeared in some of 
 the German periodicals, 3 giving accounts or translations of 
 some of the Russian Popular Tales. But no thorough 
 investigation of them appeared in print, out of Russia, until 
 the publication last year of the erudite work on ' Zoological 
 Mythology' by Professor Angelo de Gubernatis. In it 
 he has given a summary of the greater part of the stories 
 contained in the collections of Afanasief and Erlenvein, and 
 so fully has he described the part played in them by the 
 members of the animal world that I have omitted, in the 
 present volume, the chapter I had prepared on the Russian 
 1 Beast-Epos/ 
 
 Another chapter which I have, at least for a time, 
 suppressed, is that in which I had attempted to say some- 
 thing about the origin and the meaning of the Russian 
 folk-tales. The subject is so extensive that it requires for its 
 proper treatment more space than a single chapter could 
 grant ; and therefore, though not without reluctance, I 
 have left the stories I have quoted to speak for themselves, 
 except in those instances in which I have given the chief 
 parallels to be found in the two collections of foreign folk- 
 tales best known to the English reader, together with a 
 few others which happened to fall within the range of 
 my own reading. Professor de Gubernatis has discussed at 
 
 1 ' Russian Popular Tales,' Chapman and Hall, London, 1857. 
 
 2 'Die altesten Volksmarchen der Russen. Von J. N. Vogl.' Wien, 
 1841. 
 
 3 Such as the ' Orient und Occident,' ' Ausland,' &c. 
 
x PREFACE 
 
 length, and with much learning, the esoteric meaning of 
 the skazkas, and their bearing upon the questions to which 
 the ' solar theory ' of myth-explanation has given rise. To 
 his volumes, and to those of Mr. Cox, I refer all who are 
 interested in those fascinating enquiries. My chief aim 
 has been to familiarise English readers with the Russian 
 folk-tale ; the historical and mythological problems involved 
 in it can be discussed at a later period. Before long, in all 
 probability, a copious flood of light will be poured upon the 
 connexion of the Popular Tales of Russia with those of 
 other lands by one of those scholars who are best qualified 
 to deal with the subject. 1 
 
 Besides the stories about animals, I have left unnoticed 
 two other groups of skazkas those which relate to historical 
 events, and those in which figure the heroes of the Russian 
 ' epic poems ' or ' metrical romances.' My next volume 
 will be devoted to the Builinas, as those poems are called, 
 and in it the skazkas which are connected with them will 
 find their fitting place. In it, also, I hope to find space 
 for the discussion of many questions which in the present 
 volume I have been forced to leave unnoticed. 
 
 The fifty-one stories which I have translated at length 
 I have rendered as literally as possible. In the very rare 
 instances in which I have found it necessary to insert any 
 words by way of explanation, I have (except in the case of 
 such additions as ' he said ' or the like) enclosed them 
 between brackets. In giving summaries, also, I have kept 
 
 1 Professor Reinhold Kohler, who is said to be preparing a work on the 
 Skazkas, in co-operation with Professor Jtilg, the well-known editor and 
 translator of the ' Siddhi Kiir,' and 'Ardshi Bordschi Khan.' 
 
PREFACE xi 
 
 closely to the text, and always translated literally the 
 passages marked as quotations. In the imitation of a 
 finished work of art, elaboration and polish are meet and 
 due, but in a transcript from nature what is most required 
 is fidelity. An ' untouched ' photograph is in certain 
 cases infinitely preferable to one which has been carefully 
 'worked upon.' And it is, as it were, a photograph of 
 the Russian story-teller that I have tried to produce, and 
 not an ideal portrait. 
 
 The following are the principal Russian books to which 
 reference has been made : 
 
 AFANASIEF (A. N.). Narodnuiya Russkiya Skazki 1 [Russian Popular 
 Tales]. 8 pts. Moscow, 1863-60-63. Narodnuiya Russkiya Legendui 2 
 [Russian Popular Legends]. Moscow, 1859. Poeticheskiya Vozzryeniya 
 Slavyan na Prirodu [Poetic Views of the Slavonians about Nature]. 3 3 vols. 
 Moscow, 1865-69. 
 
 KHUDYAKOF (I. A.). Velikorusskiya Skazki [Great -Russian Tales]. Moscow, 
 1860. . 
 
 CHUDINSKY (E. A.). Russkiya Narodnuiya Skazki, etc. [Russian Popular 
 Tales, etc.]. Moscow, 1864. 
 
 ERLENVEIN (A. A.). Narodnuiya Skazki, etc. [Popular Tales, collected by 
 village schoolmasters in the Government of Tula]. Moscow, 1863. 
 
 RUDCHENKO (I.). Narodnuiya Yuzhnorusskiya Skazki [South-Russian 
 Popular Tales]. 4 Kief, 1869. 
 
 1 In my copy, pt. I and 2 are of the 3rd, and pt. 3 and 4 are of the 2nd 
 edition. By such a note as ' Afanasief,' i. No. 2,' I mean to refer to the 
 second story of the first part of this work. 
 
 3 This book is now out of print, and copies fetch a very high price. I 
 refer to it in my notes as 'Afanasief, LegenduiS 
 
 3 This work is always referred to in my notes as ' Afanasief, P. V. S.' 
 
 4 There is one other recent collection of skazkas that published last year 
 at Geneva under the title of ' Russkiya Zavyetnuiya Skazki.' But upon its 
 contents I have not found it necessary to draw. 
 
xii PREFACE 
 
 Most of the other works referred to are too well known 
 to require a full setting out of their titles. But it is neces- 
 sary to explain that references to Grimm are as a general 
 rule to the ' Kinder-und Hausmarchen/ Qth ed. Berlin, 1870. 
 Those to Asbjornsen and Moe are to the * Norske Folke- 
 Eventyr,' 3rd ed. Christiania, 1866; those to Asbjornsen 
 only are to the * New Series ' of those tales, Christiania, 
 1871; those to Dasent are to the ' Popular Tales from the 
 Norse,' 2nd ed., 1859. The name 'Karadjich' refers to 
 the ' Srpske Narodne Pripovijetke,' published at Vienna 
 in 1853 by Vuk Stefanovich Karajich, and translated by 
 his daughter under the title of ' Volksmarchen der Serben/ 
 Berlin 1854. By 'Schott' is meant the 'Walachische 
 Mahrchen ' Stuttgart und Tubingen, 1845, by 'Schleicher' 
 the 'Litauische Marchen,' Weimar, 1857, by ' Hahn ' the 
 ' Griechische und albanesische Marchen/ Leipzig, 1864, 
 by * Haltrich ' the ' Deutsche Volksmarchen aus dem 
 Sachsenlande in Siebenburgen,' Berlin, 1856, and by 
 ' Campbell ' the ' Popular Tales of the West Highlands,' 
 4 vols. Edinburgh, 1860-62. 
 
 A few of the ghost stories contained in the following 
 pages appeared in the ' Cornhill Magazine ' for August, 
 1872, and an account of some of the ' legends' was given in 
 the 'Fortnightly Review* for April I, 1868. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Folk-tale in general, and the Skazka in particular Relation of 
 Russian Popular Tales to Russian Life Stories about Courtship, Death, 
 Burial and Wailings for the Dead Warnings against Drink, Jokes about 
 Women, Tales of Simpletons A rhymed Skazka and a Legend . I 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 MYTHOLOGICAL. 
 
 Principal Incarnations of Evil. 
 
 On the 'Mythical Skazkas' Male embodiments of Evil : I. The Snake 
 as the Stealer of Daylight ; 2. Norka the Beast, Lord^of the Lower 
 World ; 3. Koshchei the Deathless, the Stealer of Fair Princesses his 
 connexion with Punchkin and * the Giant who had no Heart in his Body' 
 Excursus on Bluebeard's Chamber ; 4. The Water King or Sub- 
 aqueous Demon Female Embodiments of Evil : I. The Baba Yaga 
 or Hag, and 2. The Witch, feminine counterparts of the Snake . . 62 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MYTHOLOGICAL. 
 
 Miscella neous Impersonifications. 
 
 One-eyed Likho, a Story of the Polyphemus Cycle Woe, the Poor 
 Man's Companion Friday, Wednesday, and Sunday personified as 
 Female Spirits The Leshy or Wood-Demon Legends about Rivers 
 Frost as a Wooer of Maidens The Whirlwind personified as a species 
 of Snake or Demon Morfei and Oh, two supernatural beings . . 1 78 
 
xl v CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Waters of Life and Death, and of Strength and Weakness Aid 
 given to Children by Dead Parents Magic Horses, Fish, &c. Stories 
 about Brides won by a Leap, &c. Stories about Wizards and Witches 
 the Headless Princess Midnight Watchings over Corpses The Fire 
 Bird, its connexion with the Golden Bird and the Phoenix . . 230 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 GHOST STORIES. 
 
 Slavonic Ideas about the Dead On Heaven and Hell On the Jack and 
 the Beanstalk Story Harmless Ghosts the Rip van Winkle Story 
 the attachment of Ghosts to their Shrouds and Coffin-Lids Murderous 
 Ghosts Stories about Vampires on the name Vampire, and the 
 belief in Vampirism . 290 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LEGENDS. 
 I. Saints, &-Y. 
 
 Legends connected with the Dog, the Izba, the Creation of Man, the 
 Rye, the Snake, Ox, Sole, &c. ; with Birds, the Peewit, Sparrow, 
 Swallow, &c. Legends about SS. Nicholas, Andrew, George, Kasian, 
 &c 325 
 
 2. Demons ', &c. 
 
 Part played by Demons in the Skazkas On ' Hasty Words, ' and Parental 
 Curses ; their power to subject persons to demoniacal possession The 
 dulness of Demons ; Stories about Tricks played upon them Their 
 Gratitude to those v/ho treat them with Kindness and their General 
 Behaviour Various Legends about Devils Moral Tale of the Gossip s 
 Bedstead 356 
 
STORY-LIST 
 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE FIEND 
 THE DEAD MOTHER 
 THE DEAD WITCH 
 THE TREASURE ....... 
 
 PAGE 
 . 10 
 
 . 19 
 
 . 20 
 
 V. 
 
 THE CROSS-SURETY ....... 
 
 27 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE AWFUL DRUNKARD ..... 
 
 
 X.VII. 
 
 THF PA^ WIPF. 
 
 r* 
 
 XLJx 
 
 ^VIII. 
 
 THE GOLOVIKHA 
 
 o 
 
 \JX. 
 
 THE THREE COPECKS 
 
 
 vx. 
 
 THE MISER 
 
 47 
 
 \XL 
 
 THE FOOL AND THE BIRCH-TREE .... 
 
 49 
 
 XII. 
 
 THE MIZGIR 
 
 55 
 
 , XIII. 
 
 THE SMITH AND THE DEMON 
 
 57 
 
 XIV. 
 
 JLYAN POPYALOF 
 
 . 66 
 
 XV. 
 
 THE NORKA 
 
 73 
 
 XVI. 
 
 MARYA MDREVNA ... ... 
 
 . 85 
 
 XVII. 
 
 KnsHCHFI THF DKATW^ft* 
 
 IOO 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 THE WATER SNAKE ....... 
 
 . 116 
 
 XIX. 
 
 THE WATER KING AND VAsiLiS5A.jHff WtfiE . 
 
 . 120 
 
 XX. 
 
 THE BABA YAGA 
 
 139 
 
 
xvi STORY-LIST 
 
 PAGE 
 
 \.\I._VASTI,ISSA THE FAIR 150 
 
 /XXli? THE WITCH . . . ^3 
 
 XXIII. THE WITCH AND THE SUN'S SISTER . . . .170 
 
 XXIV. ONE-EYED LIKHO 178 
 
 XXV. WOE 185 
 
 XXVI. FRIDAY .' . . 200 
 
 XXVII. WEDNESDAY . . J 201 
 
 XXVIII. THE LESHY . .^(^ 206 
 
 XXIX. YAZUZA AND VOLGA . .208 
 
 / 
 XXX. \^SOZH AND DNIEPER 209 
 
 XXXI. THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE DNIEPER, THE VOLGA, 
 
 AND THE DVINA 2IO 
 
 XXXII. FROST. . 214 
 
 XXXIII. THE BLIND MAN AND THE CRIPPLE .... 240 
 
 XXXIV. PRINCESS, HELENA THE FAIR 256 
 
 XXXVI. THE WITCH GIRL 268 
 
 XXXVII. THE HEADLESS PRINCESS 271 
 
 XXXVIII. THE SOLDIER'S MIDNIGHT WATCH . . . .274 
 
 XXXIX. THE WARLOCK . . . . -' . . . .287 
 
 XL. THE FOX-PHYSICIAN 291 
 
 XLI. THE FIDDLER IN HELL ...... 298 
 
 XLII. THE RIDE ON THE GRAVESTONE 303 
 
 XLIII. THE Two FRIENDS 304 
 
 XLIV. THE SHROUD 307 
 
 XLV. THE COFFIN-LID a 309 
 
 XLVI. THE Two CORPSES . A,. .. . . . . 3I2 
 
 XLVII. THE DOG AND THE CORPSE . ^^ .'-". . . 313 
 
 XLVIII. THE SOLDIER AND THE VAMPIRE .... 314 
 
 XLIX. ELIJAH THE PROPHET AND NICHOLAS .... 340 
 
 L. THE PRIEST WITH THE GREEDY EYES. . . .351 
 
 LI. THE HASTY WORD , .365 
 
RUSSIAN FOLK -TALES 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 THERE are but few among those inhabitants of Fairyland 
 of whom ' Popular Tales ' tell, who are better known to the 
 outer world than Cinderella the despised and flouted 
 younger sister, who long sits unnoticed beside the hearth, 
 then furtively visits the glittering halls of the great and 
 gay, and at last is transferred from her obscure nook to 
 the place of honour justly due to her tardily acknowledged 
 merits. Somewhat like the fortunes of Cinderella have 
 been those of the popular tale itself. Long did it dwell 
 beside the hearths of the common people, utterly ignored 
 by their superiors in social rank. Then came a period 
 during which the cultured world recognised its existence, 
 but accorded to it no higher rank than that allotted to 
 ' nursery stories ' and ' old wives' tales ' except, indeed, on 
 those rare occasions when the charity of a condescending 
 scholar had invested it with such a garb as was supposed to 
 enable it to make a respectable appearance in polite society. 
 At length there arrived the season of its final change, 
 when, transferred from the dusk of the peasant's hut into 
 
 B 
 
2 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the full light of the outer day, and freed from the un- 
 becoming garments by which it had been disfigured, it was 
 recognised as the scion of a family so truly royal thar some 
 of its members deduce their origin from the olden gods 
 themselves. 
 
 In our days the folk-tale, instead of being left to the 
 careless guardianship of youth and ignorance, is sedulously 
 tended and held in high honour by the ripest of scholars. 
 Their views with regard b Vs origin may differ widely. 
 But whether it be considered in one of its phases as a 
 
 distorted 'nature-myth/ or in another as a v demoralised 
 
 ' / -*-' " ''* r " 
 apologue or parable whether it 'be regarded *at onetime as 
 
 a relic of primeval wisdom, or at another as a blurred 
 transcript of a page of medieval history its critics agree in 
 declaring it to be no mere creation of the popular fancy, no 
 chance expression of the uncultured thought of the rude 
 tiller of this or that soil. Rather is it believed of most 
 folk-tales that they, in their original forms, were framed 
 centuries upon centuries ago ; while of some of them it is 
 supposed that they may be traced back, through successive 
 ages to those myths in which, during a prehistoric period, 
 the oldest of philosophers expressed their ideas relative to 
 the material or the spiritual world. 
 
 But it is not every popular tale which can boast of so 
 noble a lineage, and one of the great difficulties which 
 beset the mythologist who attempts to discover the original 
 meaning of folk-tales in general is to decide which of them 
 are really antique, and worthy, therefore, of being sub- 
 mitted to critical analysis. Nor is it less difficult, when 
 dealing with the stories of any one country in particular, 
 to settle which may be looked upon as its own property, 
 and which ought to be considered as borrowed and adapted. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 3 
 
 Everyone knows that the existence of the greater part of 
 the stories current among the various European peoples is 
 accounted for on two different hypotheses the one sup- 
 posing that most of them ' were common in germ at least 
 to the Aryan tribes before their migration,' and that, there- 
 fore, * these traditions are as much a portion of the common 
 inheritance of our ancestors as their language unquestion- 
 ably is : .' l the other regarding at least a great part of them 
 as foreign importations, Oriental fancies which were origi- 
 nally introduced into Europe, through a series of translations, 
 by the pilgrims and merchants who were always linking 
 the East and the West together, or by the emissaries of some 
 of the heretical sects, or in the train of such warlike trans- 
 ferrers as the Crusaders, or the Arabs who ruled in Spain, 
 or the Tartars who so long held the Russia of old times in 
 their grasp. According to the former supposition, 'these 
 very stories, these Mahrchen, which nurses still tell, with 
 almost the same words, in the Thuringian forest and in 
 the Norwegian villages, and to which crowds of children 
 listen under the pippal trees of India,' 2 belong ' to the 
 common heirloom of the Indo-European race ; ' according 
 to the latter, the majority of European popular tales are 
 merely naturalized aliens in Europe, being as little the 
 inheritance of its present inhabitants as were the stories 
 and fables which, by a circuitous route, were transmitted 
 from India to Boccaccio or La Fontaine. 
 
 On the questions to which these two conflicting hypo- 
 theses give rise we will not now dwell. For the present, we 
 will deal with the Russian folk-tale as we find it, attempt- 
 ing to become acquainted with its principal characteristics 
 
 1 Dasent's ' Popular Tales from the Norse,' p. xl. 
 
 2 Max Miiller, ' Chips,' vol. ii. p. 226. 
 
 152 
 
4 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 to see in what respects it chiefly differs from the stones of 
 the same class which are current among ourselves, or in 
 those foreign lands with which we are more familiar than 
 we are with Russia, rather than to explore its birthplace or 
 to divine its original meaning. 
 
 / 
 
 We often hear it said, that from the songs and stories of 
 
 a country we may learn much about the inner Ijfe of its 
 people, inasmuch as popular utterances of this kind always 
 bear the stamp of the national character, offer a reflex of 
 the national mind. So far as folk-songs are concerned this 
 statement appears to be, well founded, but it can be applied 
 to the folk-tales of Europe only within very narrow limits. 
 Each country possesses certain stories which have special 
 reference to its own manners and customs, and by collecting 
 such tales as these something approximating to a picture of 
 its national life may be laboriously pieced together. But the 
 stories of this class are often nothing more than compara- 
 tively modern adaptations of old and foreign themes ; nor 
 are they sufficiently numerous, so far as we can judge from 
 existing collections, to render by any means complete the 
 national portrait for which they are expected to supply the 
 materials. In order to fill up the gaps they leave it is 
 necessary to bring together a number of fragments taken 
 from stories which evidently refer to another clime frag- 
 ments which may be looked upon as excrescences or 
 developments due to the novel influences to which the 
 foreign slip, or seedling, or even full-grown plant, has been 
 subjected since its transportation. 
 
 The great bulk of the Russian folk-tales, and, indeed, of 
 those of all the Indo-European nations, is devoted to the 
 adventures of such fairy princes and princesses, such snakes 
 
INTRODUCTORY 5 
 
 and giants and demons, as are quite out of keeping with 
 jDi^my^jriej^aftd women at all events with the inhabitants 
 of modern Europe since the termination of those inter- 
 necine struggles between aboriginals and invaders, which 
 some commentators see typified in the combats between 
 the heroes of our popular tales and the whole race of giants, 
 trolls, ogres, snakes, dragons, and other monsters. The air 
 we breathe in them is that of fairyland ; the conditions of 
 existence, the relations between the human race and the 
 spiritual world on the one hand, the material world on the 
 other, are totally inconsistent with those to which we are 
 now restricted. There is boundless, freedom of intercourse 
 between mortals and immortals, between mankind and the 
 brute creation, and, although there are certain conventional 
 rules which must always be observed, they are not those 
 which are enforced by any people known to anthropo- 
 logists. The stories which are common to all Europe 
 differ, no doubt, in different countries, but their variations, 
 so far as their matter is concerned, seem to be due less to 
 the moral character than to the geographical distribution of 
 their reciters. The manner in which these tales are told, 
 however, may often be taken as a test of the intellectual 
 capacity of their tellers. For in style the folk-tale changes 
 greatly as it travels. A story which we find narrated in 
 one country with terseness and precision may be rendered 
 almost unintelligible in another by vagueness or verbiage ; 
 by one race it may be elevated into poetic life, by another 
 it may be degraded into the most prosaic dulness. 
 
 Now, so far as style is concerned, the Skazkas, or Russian 
 
 folk-tales, may justly be said to be characteristic of the 
 
 Russian people. There are numerous points on which the 
 
 lower classed of all the Aryan peoples in Europe closely 
 
 v 
 
6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 resemble each other, but the Russian peasant has in 
 common with all his Slavonic brethren a genuine talent 
 for narrative which distinguishes him from some of his more 
 distant cousins. And the stories which are current among 
 the Russian peasantry are for the most part exceedingly 
 well narrated. Their language is simple and pleasantly 
 quaint, their humour is natural and unobtrusive, and their 
 descriptions, whether of persons or of events, are often 
 excellent. 1 A taste for acting is widely spread in Russia, 
 and the Russian folk-tales are full of dramatic positions 
 which offer a wide scope for a display of their reciter's 
 mimetic talents. Every here and there, indeed, a tag of 
 genuine comedy has evidently been attached by the story- 
 teller to a narrative which in its original form was probably 
 devoid of the comic element. 
 
 And thus from the Russian tales may be derived some 
 idea of the mental characteristics of the Russian peasantry 
 one which is very incomplete, but, within its narrow 
 limits, sufficiently accurate. And a similar statement may 
 be made with respect to the pictures of Russian peasant life 
 contained in these tales. So far as they go they are true to 
 nature, and the notion which they convey to a stranger of 
 the manners and customs of Russian villagers is not likely 
 to prove erroneous, but they do not go very far. On some of 
 the questions which are likely to be of the greatest interest 
 to a foreigner they never touch. There is very little infor- 
 mation to be gleaned from them, for instance, with regard 
 to the religious views of the people, none with respect to 
 the relations which, during the times of serfdom, existed 
 
 1 Take as an illustration of these remarks the close of the story of ' Helen 
 the Fair ' (No. 34, Chap. IV.). See how light and bright it is (or at least 
 was, before it was translated). 
 
INTRO D UCTOR Y 7 
 
 between the lord and the thrall. But from the casual 
 references to actual scenes and ordinary occupations which 
 every here and there occur in the descriptions of fairyland 
 and the narratives of heroic adventure from the realistic 
 vignettes which are sometimes inserted between the 
 idealised portraits of invincible princes and irresistible 
 princesses some idea may be obtained of the usual aspect 
 of a Russian village, and of the ordinary behaviour of its 
 inhabitants. Turning from one to another of these accidental 
 illustrations, we by degrees create a mental picture which is 
 not without its peculiar charm. We see the wide sweep of 
 the level corn-land, the gloom of the interminable forest, 
 the gleam of the slowly winding river. We pass along the 
 single street of the village, and glance at its wooden barn- 
 like huts, 1 so different from the ideal English cottage with 
 its windows set deep in ivy and its porch smiling with 
 roses. We see the land around a Slough of Despond in the 
 spring, an unbroken sea of green in the early summer, a 
 blaze of gold at harvest-time, in the winter one vast sheet of 
 all but untrodden snow. On Sundays and holidays we 
 accompany the villagers to their white-walled, green-domed 
 church, and afterwards listen to the songs which the girls 
 sing in the summer choral dances, or take part in the 
 merriment of the social gatherings, which enliven the long 
 nights of winter. Sometimes the quaint lyric drama of a 
 peasant wedding is performed before our eyes, sometimes we 
 follow a funeral party to one of those dismal and desolate 
 nooks in which the Russian villagers deposit their dead. 
 On working days we see the peasants driving afield in 
 
 J I speak only of what I have seen. In some districts of Russia, if one 
 may judge from pictures, the peasants occupy ornamented and ornamental 
 dwellings. 
 
8 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the early morn with their long lines of carts, to till the soil, 
 or ply the scythe or sickle or axe, till the day is done and 
 their rude cars come creaking back. We hear the songs 
 and laughter of the girls beside the stream or pool which 
 ripples pleasantly against its banks in the summer time, 
 but in the winter shows no sign of life, except at the spot, 
 much frequented by the wives and daughters of the village, 
 where an ' ice-hole ' has been cut in its massive pall. And 
 at night we see the homely dwellings of the villagers assume 
 a picturesque aspect to which they are strangers by the tell- 
 tale light of day, their rough lines softened by the mellow 
 splendour of a summer moon, or their unshapely forms 
 looming forth mysteriously against the starlit snow of 
 winter. Above all we become familiar with those cottage 
 interiors to which the stories contain so many references. 
 Sometimes we see the better class of homestead, surrounded 
 by its fence through which we pass between the often-men- 
 tioned gates. After a glance at the barns and cattle-sheds, 
 and at the garden which supplies the family with fruits and 
 vegetables (on flowers, alas ! but little store is set in the 
 northern provinces), we cross the threshold, a spot hallowed 
 by many traditions, and pass, through what in more pre- 
 tentious houses may be called the vestibule, into the ' living 
 room.' We become well acquainted with its arrangements, 
 with the cellar beneath its wooden floor, with the ' corner of 
 honour ' in which are placed the ' holy pictures,' and with 
 the stove which occupies so large a share of space, within 
 which daily beats, as it were, the heart of the house, above 
 which is nightly taken the repose of the family. Sometimes 
 we visit the hut of the poverty-stricken peasant, more like 
 a shed for cattle than a human habitation, with a mud- 
 floor and a tattered roof, through which the smoke makes 
 
its devious way. In these poorer dwellings we witness 
 much suffering ; but we learn to respect the patience and 
 resignation with which it is generally borne, and in the 
 greater part of the humble homes we visit we become aware 
 of the existence of many domestic virtues, we see numerous 
 tokens of family affection, of filial reverence, of parental 
 love. And when, as we pass along the village street at 
 night, we see gleaming through the utter darkness the faint 
 rays which tell that even in many a poverty-stricken home 
 a lamp is burning before the ' holy pictures,' we feel that 
 these poor tillers of the soil, ignorant and uncouth though 
 they too often are, may be raised at times by lofty thoughts 
 and noble aspirations far above the low level of the dull 
 and hard lives which they are forced to lead. 
 
 From among the stories which contain the most graphic 
 descriptions of Russian village life, or which may be regarded 
 as specially illustrative of Russian sentiment and humour, 
 those which the present chapter contains have been selected. 
 Any information they may convey will necessarily be of a 
 most fragmentary nature, but for all that it may be capable 
 of producing a correct impression. A painter's rough notes 
 and jottings are often more true to nature than the most 
 finished picture into which they may be developed. 
 
 The word skazka, or folk-tale, does not very often occur 
 in the Russian popular tales themselves. Still there are 
 occasions on which it appears. The allusions to it are for 
 the most part indirect, as when a princess is said to be more 
 beautiful than anybody ever was, except in a skazka ; but 
 sometimes it obtains direct notice. In a story, for instance, 
 of a boy who had been carried off by a Baba Yaga (a 
 species of witch), we are told that when his sister came to 
 
10 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 his rescue she found him ' sitting in an arm-chair, while the 
 cat Jeremiah told him skazkas and sang him songs.' 1 In 
 another story, a dnrak a ' ninny ' or ' gowk ' is sent to 
 take care of the children of a village during the absence of 
 their parents. ' Go and get all the children together in one 
 of the cottages and tell them skazkas,' are his instructions. 
 He collects the children, but as they are ' all ever so dirty ' 
 he puts them into boiling water by way of cleansing them, 
 and so washes them to death. 2 
 
 There is a good deal of social life in the Russian vil- 
 lages during the long winter evenings, and at some of the 
 gatherings which then take place skazkas are told, though 
 at those in which only the young people participate, songs, 
 games, and dances are more popular. The following skazka 
 has been selected on account of *the descriptions . of a 
 veckernitsa, or village soiree? and of a rustic courtship, 
 which its opening scene contains. The rest of the story is 
 not remarkable for its fidelity to modern life, but it will 
 serve as a good illustration of the class to which it belongs 
 that of stories about evil spirits, traceable, for the most 
 part, to Eastern sources. 
 
 THE FIEND.* 
 
 IN a certain country there lived an old couple who had a daughter 
 called Marusia (Mary). In their village it was customary to 
 celebrate the feast of St. Andrew the First-Called (November 30). 
 The girls used to assemble in some cottage, bake pampmhki* and 
 enjoy themselves for a whole week, or even longer. Well, the 
 
 1 Khudyakof, vol. ii. p. 65. 2 Ibid. vol. ii. p. 115. 
 
 3 For a description of such social gatherings see the ' Songs of the Russian 
 People,' pp. 32-38. 
 
 4 Afanasief, vi. No. 66. 
 
 5 Cakes of unleavened flour flavoured with garlic. 
 
INTRODUCTORY n 
 
 girls met together once when this festival arrived, and brewed 
 and baked what was wanted. In the evening came the lads with 
 the music, bringing liquor with them, and dancing and revelry 
 commenced. All the girls danced well, but Marusia the best of 
 all. After a while there came into the cottage such a fine fellow ! 
 Marry, come up ! regular blood and milk, and smartly and richly 
 dressed. 
 
 ' Hail, fair maidens ! ' says he. 
 
 ' Hail, good youth ! ' say they. 
 
 1 You're merry-making ? ' 
 
 ' Be so good as to join us.' 
 
 Thereupon he pulled out of his pocket a purse full of gold, 
 ordered liquor, nuts, gingerbread. All was ready in a trice, and 
 Vhe began treating the lads and lasses, giving each a share. Then 
 he took to dancing. Why, it was a treat to look at him ! 
 Marusia struck his fancy more than anyone else; so he stuck 
 close to her. The time came for going home. 
 
 ' Marusia,' says he, ' come and see me off.' 
 
 She went to see him off. 
 
 * Marusia, sweetheart ! ' says he, ' would you like me to marry 
 you?' 
 
 ' If you like to marry me, I \vill gladly marry you. But where 
 do you come from ? ' 
 
 ' From such and such a place. I'm clerk at a merchant's.' 
 
 * Then they bade each other farewell and separated. When 
 Marusia got home, her mother asked her : 
 
 ' Well, daughter ! have you enjoyed yourself? ' 
 ' Yes, mother. But I've something pleasant to tell you be- 
 sides. There was a lad there from the neighbourhood, good- 
 looking and with lots of money,, and he promised to marry me.' 
 
 ' Harkye, Marusia ! When you go to where the girls are to- 
 morrow, take a ball of thread with you, make a noose in it, and, 
 when you are going to see him off, throw it over one of his but- 
 tons, and quietly unroll the ball; then, by means of the thread, 
 you will be able to find out where he lives.' 
 
12 fiL T SSSAiV FOLK-TALES 
 
 Next day Marusia went to the gathering, and took a ball of 
 thread with her. The youth came again. 
 
 ( Good evening, Marusia ! ' said he. 
 
 ' Good evening ! ' said she. 
 
 Games began and dances. Even more than before did he 
 . stick to Marusia, not a step would he budge from her. The time 
 came for going home. 
 
 * Come and see me off, Marusia ! ' says the stranger. 
 
 She went out into the street, and while she was taking leave 
 of him she quietly dropped the noose over one of his buttons. 
 He went his way, but she remained where she was, unrolling the 
 ball. When she had unrolled the whole of it, she ran after the thread 
 to find out where her betrothed lived. At first the thread followed 
 the road, then it stretched across hedges and ditches, and led 
 Marusia towards the church and right up to the porch. Marusia 
 tried the door ; it was locked. She went round the church, found a 
 ladder, set it against a window, and climbed up it to see what was 
 going on inside.U Having got into the church, she looked and 
 saw her betrothed standing beside a grave and devouring a dead 
 body for a corpse had been left for that night in the church. 
 
 She wanted to get down the ladder quietly, but her fright pre- 
 vented her from taking proper heed, and she made a little noise. 
 Then she ran home almost beside herself, fancying all the time 
 she was being pursued. She was all but dead before she got in. 
 Next morning her mother asked her : 
 
 1 Well, Marusia ! did you see the youth ? ' 
 
 I saw him, mother,' she replied. But what else she had seen 
 she did not tell. 
 
 In the morning Marusia was sitting, considering whether she 
 would go to the gathering or not. 
 
 ' Go,' said her mother. ' Amuse yourself while you're young S' 
 
 So she went to the gathering ; the Fiend l was there already. 
 
 Games, fun, dancing, began anew ; the girls knew nothing of what 
 
 1 The Nechistoi, or unclean. (Chisty clean, pure, &c.) 
 
INTRODUCTORY 13 
 
 had happened. When they began to separate and go home- 
 wards : 
 
 ' Come, Marusia ! ' says the Evil One, ' see me off.' 
 
 She was afraid, and didn't stir. Then all the other girls opened 
 out upon her. 
 
 ' What are you thinking about ? Have you grown so bashful, 
 forsooth? Go and see the good lad off.' 
 
 There was no help for it. Out she went, not knowing what 
 would come of it. As soon as they got into the street he began 
 questioning her : 
 
 ' You were in the church last night ? ' 
 
 < No.' 
 
 ' And saw what I was doing there ? ' 
 
 'No/ 
 
 ' Very well ! To-morrow your father will die ! ' 
 
 Having said this, he disappeared. 
 
 Manisia returned home grave and sad. When she woke up 
 in the morning, her father lay dead ! 
 
 They wept and wailed over him, and laid Jbim in the coffin. 
 In the evening her mother went off to the priest's, but Marusia re- 
 mained at home. At last she became afraid of being alone in the 
 house. ' Suppose I go to my friends,' she thought. So she went, 
 and found the Evil One there. 
 
 ' Good evening, Marusia ! why arn't you merry ? ' asked the 
 girls. 
 
 ' How can I be merry ? My father is dead I' 
 
 < Oh ! poor thing ! ' 
 
 They all grieved for her. Even the Accursed One himself 
 grieved ; just as if it hadn't all been his own doing. By and by 
 they began saying farewell and going home. 
 
 * Manisia,' says he, ' see me off.' 
 
 She didn't want to. 
 
 'What are you thinking of, child?' insist the girls. 'What 
 are you afraid of? Go and see him off.' 
 
 So she went to see him off. They passed out into the street. 
 
J4 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Tell me, Marusia/ says he ; ' were you in the church ? ' 
 
 ' No.' 
 
 ' Did you see what I was doing ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Very well ! To-morrow your mother will die.' 
 
 He spoke and disappeared. Marusia returned home sadder 
 than ever. The night went by ; next morning, when she awoke, 
 her mother lay dead ! She cried all day long ; but when the sun 
 set, and it grew dark around, Marusia became afraid of being left 
 alone ; so she went to her companions. 
 
 1 Why whatever's the matter with you ? you're clean out of 
 countenance ! ' l say the girls. 
 
 ' How am I likely to be cheerful ? Yesterday my father died, 
 and to-day my mother.' 
 
 ' Poor thing ! Poor unhappy girl ! ' they all exclaim sym- 
 pathisingly. 
 
 Well, the time came to say good-bye. ' See me off, Marusia/ 
 says the Fiend. So she went out to see him off. 
 
 ' Tell me ; were you in the church ? ' 
 
 1 No. 7 
 
 ' And saw what I was doing ? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
 ' Very well ! To-morrow evening you will die yourself ! ' 
 
 Marusia spent the night with her friends ; in the morning she 
 got up and considered what she should do. She bethought her- 
 self that she had a grandmother an old, very old woman, who 
 had become blind from length of years. ' Suppose I go and ask 
 her advice,' she said, and .then went off to her grandmother's. 
 
 1 Good day, granny \ ' says she. 
 
 'Good day, granddaughter! What news is there with you? 
 How are your father and mother ?' 
 
 ' They are dead, granny/ replied the girl, and then told her all 
 that had happened. 
 
 1 Literally, ' on thee no face is to be seen.' 
 
INTRODUCTORY 15 
 
 . The old woman listened, and said : 
 
 ' Oh dear me ! my poor unhappy child ! Go quickly to the 
 priest, and ask him this favour that if you die, your body shall 
 not be taken out of the house through the doorway, but that the 
 ground shall be dug away from under the threshold, and that you 
 shall be dragged out through that opening. And also beg that 
 you may be buried at a crossway, at a spot where four roads 
 meet' 
 
 Marusia went to the priest, wept bitterly, and made him pro- 
 mise to do everything according to her grandmother's instructions. 
 Then she returned home, bought a coffin, lay down in it, and 
 straightway expired. 
 
 Well, they told the priest, and he buried, first her father and 
 mother, and then Marusia herself. Her body was passed under- 
 neath the threshold and buried at a crossway. 
 
 Soon afterwards a seigneur's son happened to drive past 
 Marasia's grave. On that grave he saw growing a wondrous flower, 
 such a one as he had never seen before. Said the young seigneur 
 to his servant : 
 
 'Go and pluck up that flower by the roots. We'll take 
 it home and put it in a flower-pot. Perhaps it will blossom 
 there.' 
 
 Well, they dug up the flower, took it home, put it in a glazed 
 flower-pot, and set it in a window. The flower began to grow 
 larger and more beautiful. One night the servant hadn't gone to 
 sleep somehow, and .he happened to be looking at the window, 
 when he saw a wondrous thing take place. All of a sudden the 
 flower began to tremble, then it fell from its stem to the ground 
 and turned into a lovely maiden. The flower was beautiful, but 
 \ the maiden was more beautiful still. She wandered from room to 
 room, got herself various things to eat and drink, ate and drank, 
 then stamped upon the ground and became a flower as before, 
 mounted to the window, and resumed her place upon the stem. 
 Next day the servant told the young seigneur of the wonders which 
 he had seen during the night. 
 
16 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Ah, brother ! ' said the youth, ' why didn't you wake me ? 
 To-night we'll both keep watch together/ 
 
 The night came ; they slept not, but watched. Exactly at 
 twelve o'clock the blossom began to shake, flew from place to 
 place, and then fell to the ground, and the beautiful maiden 
 appeared, got herself things to eat and drink, and sat down to 
 supper. The young seigneur rushed forward and seized her by 
 her white hands. Impossible was it for him sufficiently to look 
 at her, to gaze on her beauty ! 
 
 Next morning he said to his father and mother, ' Please allow 
 me to get married. I've found myself a bride.' 
 
 His parents gave their consent. As for Marusia, she said : 
 
 ' Only on this condition will I marry you that for four years I 
 need not go to church.' 
 
 ' Very good,' said he. 
 
 Well, they were married, and they lived together one year, two 
 years, and had a son. But one day they had visitors at their 
 house, who enjoyed themselves, and drank, and began bragging 
 about their wives. This one's wife was handsome j that one's was 
 handsomer still. 
 
 * You may say what you like,' says the host, ' but a handsomer 
 wife than mine does not exist in the whole world !' 
 
 ' Handsome, yes ! ' reply the guests, ' but a heathen.' 
 ' How so ? ' 
 
 * Why, she never goes to church.' 
 
 Her husband found these observations distasteful. He waited 
 till Sunday, and then told his wife to get dressed for church. 
 
 ' I don't care what you may say,' says he. * Go and get ready 
 directly.' 
 
 Well, they got ready, and went to church. The husband went 
 in didn't see anything particular. But when she looked round 
 there was the Fiend sitting at a window. 
 
 ' Ha ! here you are at last ! ' he cried. * Remember old times. 
 Were you in the church that night? ' 
 
 'No.' 
 
INTRODUCTORY 17 
 
 ' And did you see what I was doing there ? ' 
 
 * Xo. f 
 
 ' Vejy well, to-morrow both your husband and your son will 
 die.' 
 
 Mamsia rushed straight out of the church and away to her 
 grandmother. Tfye old woman gave her two phials, the one full 
 of holy water, the other of the water of life, and told her what 
 she was to do. Next day both Marusia's husband and her son 
 died. Then the Fiend came flying to her and asked : 
 
 ' Tell me ; were you in the church ? ' 
 
 < I was.' 
 
 ' And did you see what I was doing? ' 
 
 1 You were eating a corpse.' 
 
 She spoke, and splashed the holy watejr_ over him ; in a moment 
 he turned into mere dust and ashes, which blew to the winds. 
 Afterwards she sprinkled her husband and her boy with the water 
 of life : straightway they revived. And from that time forward 
 they knew neither sorrow nor. separation, but they all lived 
 together long and happily. 1 t 
 
 Another lively sketch- of a peasant's love-making is 
 given in the introduction to the story of Ivan the widow's 
 son and Grisha.' 2 The tale is one of magic and enchant- 
 ment, of living clouds and seven-headed snakes; but the 
 
 1 I do not propose to comment at any length upon the stories quoted in the 
 present chapter. Some of them will be referred to farther on. Marusia's 
 demon lover will be recognised as akin to Arabian Ghools, or the Rakshasas of 
 Indian mythology. (See the story of Sidi Noman in the ' Thousand and One 
 Nights, ' also Lane's translation, vol. i. p. 32 ; and the story of Asokadatta and 
 Vijayadatta in the fifth book of the 'Kathasaritsagara,' Brockhaus's translation, 
 1843, v l- " PP- I 4 2 ~ I 59-) For transformations of a maiden into a flower or 
 tree, see Grimm, No. 76, ' Die Nelke,' and the notes to that story in vol. 
 iii. p. 125 Hahn, No. 21, { Das Lorbeerkind,' etc. 'The Water of Life,' 
 will meet with due consideration in the fourth chapter. The Holy Water 
 which destroys the Fiend is merely a Christian form of the 'Water of Death,' 
 viewed in its negative aspect. 
 
 - Chudinsky, No. 3. 
 
 C 
 
iS RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 opening is a little piece of still-life very quaintly portrayed. 
 A certain villager, named Trofim, having been unable to 
 find a wife, his Aunt Melania comes to his aid, premising 
 to procure him an interview with a widow who has been 
 left well provided for, and whose personal appearance is 
 attractive ' real blood and milk ! When she's got on her 
 holiday clothes, she's as fine as a peacock ! ' Trofim grovels 
 with gratitude at his aunt's feet. ' My own dear auntie, 
 Melania Prokhorovna, get me married for heaven's sake ! 
 I'll buy you an embroidered kerchief in return, the very 
 best in the whole market.' The widow comes to pay 
 Melania a visit, and is induced to believe, on the evidence 
 of beans (frequently used for the purpose of divination) 
 that her destined husband is close at hand. At this propi- 
 tious moment Trofim appears. Melania makes a little 
 speech to the young couple, ending her recommendation to 
 get married with the words : 
 
 ' I can see well enough by the bridegroom's eyes that the 
 bride is to his taste, only I don't know what the bride thinks 
 about taking him.' 
 
 ' I don't mind ! ' says the widow. ' Well, then, glory be 
 to God !, Now, stand up, we'll say a prayer before the 
 Holy Pictures ; then give each other a kiss, and go in 
 Heaven's name and get married at once ! ' And so the 
 question is settled. 
 
 From a courtship and a marriage in peasant life we may 
 turn to a death and a burial. There are frequent allusions 
 in the Skazkas to these gloomy subjects, with reference to 
 which we will quote two stories, the one pathetic, the other 
 (unintentionally) grotesque. Neither of them bears any title 
 in the original, but we may style the first 
 
INTRODUCTORY 19 
 
 THE DEAD MOTHER. l 
 
 IN a certain village there lived a husband and wife lived happily, 
 lovingly, peaceably. All their neighbours envied them ; the 
 sight of them gave pleasure to honest folks. Well the mistress 
 bare a son, but directly after it was born she died. The poor 
 moujik moaned and wept. Above all he was in despair about 
 the babe. How was he to nourish it now ? how to bring it up 
 without its mother ? He did what was best, and hired an old 
 woman to look after it. Only here was a wonder ! all day long 
 the babe would take no food, and did nothing but cry ; there was 
 no soothing it anyhow. But during (a great part ot) the night 
 one could fancy it wasn't there at all, so silently amj -peacefully 
 did it sleep. 
 
 * What's the meaning of this ? ' thinks the old woman \ ' sup- 
 pose I keep awake to-night; maybe I shall find out.' 
 
 Well, just at midnight she heard some one quietly open the 
 door and go up to the cradle. The babe became still, just as if it 
 was being suckled. 
 
 The next night the same thing took place, and the third night 
 too. Then she told the moujik about it. He called his kinsfolk 
 together, and held counsel with them. They determined on this : 
 to keep awake on a certain night, and to spy out who it was that 
 came to suckle the babe. So at eventide they all lay down on the 
 floor, and beside them they set a lighted taper hidden in an 
 earthen pot. 
 
 At midnight the cottage door opened. Some one stepped up 
 to the cradle. The babe became still. At that moment one of 
 the kinsfolk suddenly brought out the light. They looked, and 
 saw the dead mother, in the very same clothes in which she had 
 been buried, on her knees beside the cradle, over which she bent 
 as she suckled the babe at her dead breast. 
 
 1 Afanasief, vi. p. 325. Wolfs ' Niederlandische Sagen,' No. 326, quoted 
 n Thorpe's ' Northern Mythology,' i. 292. Note 4. 
 
 C 2 
 
20 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 The moment the fight shone in the cottage she stood up, 
 gazed sadly on her little one, and then went out of the room 
 without a sound, not saying a word to anyone. All those who 
 saw her stood for a time terror-struck; and then they found the 
 babe was dead. 1 
 
 The second story will serve as an illustration of one of 
 the Russian customs with respect to the dead, and also of 
 the ideas about witchcraft, still prevalent in Russia. We 
 may create for it the title of 
 
 THE DEAD WiTCH. 2 
 
 THERE was once an old woman who was a terrible witch, and she 
 had a daughter and a granddaughter. The time came for the old 
 crone to die, so she summoned her daughter and gave her these 
 instructions : 
 
 ' Mind, daughter ! when I'm dead, don't you wash my body 
 with lukewarm water; but fill a cauldron, make it boil its very 
 hottest, and then with that boiling water regularly scald me all 
 over.' 
 
 After saying this, the witch lay ill . two* or three days, and 
 then died. The daughter ran round to all her neighbours, 
 begging them to come and help her to wash the old woman, and 
 meantime the little granddaughter was left all alone in the cottage. 
 And this is what she saw there. All of a sudden there crept out 
 from beneath the stove two demons a big one and a tiny one 
 and they ran up to the dead witch. The old demon seized her by 
 the feet, and tore away at her so that he stripped off all her skin 
 at one pull. Then he said to the little demon : 
 
 1 A number of ghost stories, and some remarks about the ideas of the 
 Russian peasants with respect to the dead, will be found in Chap. V. Scott 
 mentions a story in ' The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,' vol. ii. p. 223, of 
 a widower who believed he was haunted by his dead wife. On one occasion 
 the ghost, to prove her identity, gave suck to her surviving infant. 
 
 2 Afanasief, viii. p. 165. 
 
INTRODUCTORY , 21 
 
 1 Take the flesh for yourself, and lug it under the stove.' 
 
 So the little demon flung his amis round the carcase, and 
 dragged it under the stove. Nothing was left of the old woman 
 but her skin. Into it the old demon inserted himself, and then 
 he lay down just where the witch had been lying. 
 
 Presently the daughter came back, bringing a dozen other 
 women with her, and they all set to work laying out the corpse. 
 
 1 Mammy/ says the child, ' they've pulled granny's skin off 
 while you were away.' 
 
 ' What do you mean by telling such lies ? ' 
 
 * It's quite true, Mammy ! There was ever such a blackie 
 came from under the stove, and he pulled the skin off, and got 
 into it himself.' 
 
 ' Hold your tongue, naughty child ! you're talking nonsense ! * 
 cried the old crone's daughter ; then she fetched a big cauldron, 
 filled it with cold water, put it on the stove, and heated it till it 
 boiled furiously. Then the women lifted up the old crone, laid 
 her in a trough, took hold of the cauldron, and poured the whole 
 of the boiling water over her at once. The demon couldn't stand 
 it. He leaped out of the trough, dashed through the doorway, 
 and disappeared, skin and all. The women stared : 
 
 * What marvel is this ? ' they cried. ' Here was the dead 
 woman, and now she isn't here. There's nobody left to lay out 
 or to bury. The demons have carried her off before our very 
 eyes !' l 
 
 A Russian peasant funeral is preceded or accompanied 
 by a considerable amount of wailing, which answers in some 
 
 1 In West-European stories the devil frequently carries off a witch's 
 soul after death. Here the fiend enters the corpse, or rather its skin, 
 probably intending to reappear as a vampire. Compare Bleek's * Reynard 
 the Fox in South Africa,' No. 24, in which a lion squeezes itself into the skin 
 of a girl it has killed. I have generally rendered by ' demon, ' instead of ' devil, ' 
 the word chart when it occurs in stories of this class, as the spirits to which they 
 refer are manifestly akin to those of oriental demonology. 
 
22 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 respect to the Irish 'keening.' To the zaplacJiki? or 
 laments, which are uttered on such occasions frequently by 
 hired wailers, who closely resemble the Corsican ' vocifera- 
 tors,' the modern Greek ' myrologists ' allusions are some- 
 times made in the Skazkas. In the ( Fox-wailer,' 2 for 
 example one of the variants of the well-known 'Jack 
 and the Beanstalk ' story an old man puts his wife in a 
 bag and attempts to carry her up the beanstalk to heaven. 
 Becoming tired on the way, he drops the bag, and the old 
 woman is killed. After weeping over her dead body he 
 sets out in search of a Wailer. Meeting a bear, he cries 
 ' Wail a bit, Bear, for my old woman ! I'll give you a pair 
 of nice white fowls.' The bear growls out 'Oh, dear 
 granny of mine ! how I grieve for thee ! ' ' No, no ! ' says 
 the old man, ' you can't wail.' Going a little further he 
 tries a wolf, but the wolf succeeds no better than the bear. 
 At last a fox comes by, and on being appealed to, begins 
 to cry aloud ' Turu-Turu, grandmother ! grandfather has 
 killed thee ! ' a wail which pleases the widower so much 
 that he hands over the fowls to the fox at once, and asks, 
 enraptured, for ' that strain again ! ' 3 
 
 One of the most curious of the stories which relate to a 
 village burial, one in which also the feeling with which 
 the Russian villagers sometimes regard their clergy finds 
 expression is that called 
 
 1 For an account of which, see the 'Songs of the Russian People,' pp. 
 333-334. The best Russian work on the subject is Barsof's 'Prichitaniya 
 Syevernago Kraya,' Moscow, 1872. 
 
 2 Afanasief, iv. No. 9. 
 
 3 Professor de Gubernatis justly remarks that this 'howling 'is more in 
 keeping with the nature of the eastern jackal than with that of its western 
 counterpart, the fox. 'Zoological Mythology,' ii. 130. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 23 
 
 THE TREASURE. 1 
 
 IN a certain kingdom there lived an old couple in great poverty. 
 Sooner or later the old woman died. It was in winter, in severe 
 and frosty weather. The old man went round to his friends and 
 neighbours, begging them to help him to dig a grave for the old 
 woman ; but his friends and neighbours, knowing his great poverty, 
 all flatly refused. The old man went to the pope, 2 (but in that 
 village they had an awfully grasping pope, one without any 
 conscience) and says he : 
 
 ' Lend a hand, reverend father, to get my old woman buried.' 
 
 ' But have you got any money to pay for the funeral ? If so, 
 friend, pay up beforehand ! ' 
 
 1 It's no use hiding anything from you. Not a single copeck 
 have I at home. But if you'll wait a little, I'll earn some, and 
 then I'll pay you with interest on my w r ord, I'll pay you ! ' 
 
 The pope wouldn't so much as listen to the old man. 
 
 ' If you haven't anymoney, don't you dare to come here/ says he. 
 
 ' What's to be done ? ' thinks the old man. ' I'll go to the 
 graveyard, dig a grave as I best can, and bury the old woman 
 myself.' So he took an axe and a shovel, and went to the grave- 
 yard. When he got there he began to prepare a grave. He 
 chopped away the frozen ground on the top with the axe, and 
 then he took to the shovel. He dug and dug, and at last he dug 
 out a metal pot. Looking into it he saw that it was stuffed full of 
 ducats that shone like fire. The old man was immensely de- 
 lighted, and cried, ' Glory be to Thee, O Lord ! I shall have 
 wherewithal both to bury my old woman, and to perform the rites 
 of remembrance.' 
 
 He did not go on digging the grave any longer, but took the pot 
 of gold and carried it home. Well, we all know what money will do 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 45. 
 
 2 Pope is the ordinary but disrespectful term for a priest (Svyashchcnnik), 
 as popffvich is for a priest's son. 
 
24 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 everything went as smooth as oil ! In a trice there were found 
 good folks to dig the grave and fashion the coffin. The old man 
 sent his daughter-in-law to purchase meat and drink and different 
 kinds of relishes everything that there ought to be .at memorial 
 feasts and 'he himself took a ducat in his hand and hobbled back 
 again to the pope's. The moment he reached the door, out flew 
 the pope at him. 
 
 'You were distinctly told, you old lout, that you were not to 
 come here without money ; and now you've slunk back again.' 
 
 'Don't be angry, batyushka,' 1 said the old man imploringly. 
 1 Here's gold for you. If you'll only bury my old woman, I'll 
 never forget your kindness.' 
 
 The pope took the money, and didn't know how best to 
 receive the old man, where to seat him, with what words to 
 smooth him down. 'Well now, old friend ! Be of good cheer ; 
 everything shall be done,' said he. 
 
 The old man made his bow, and went home, and the pope 
 and his wife began talking about him. 
 
 ' There now, the old hunks ! ' they say. ' So poor, forsooth, so 
 poor ! And yet he's paid a gold piece. Many a defunct person 
 of quality have I buried in my time, but I never got so much from 
 anyone before.' 
 
 The pope got under weigh with all his retinue, and buried the 
 old crone in proper style. After the funeral the old man invited 
 him to his house, to take part in the feast in memory of the 
 dead. Well, they entered the cottage, and sat down to table 
 and there appeared from somewhere or other meat and drink and 
 all sorts of snacks, everything in profusion. The (reverend) 
 guest sat down, ate for three people, looked greedily at what was 
 not his. The (other) guests finished their meal, and separated to 
 go to their homes ; then the pope also rose from table. The old 
 man went to speed him on his way. As soon as they got into the 
 
 1 ' Father dear,' or ' reverend father.' 
 
IN TROD UCTOR Y 2$ 
 
 farmyard, and the pope saw they were alone at last, he began 
 questioning the old man : ' Listen, friend ! confess to me, don't 
 leave so much as a single sin on your soul it's just the same 
 before me as before God ! How have you managed to get on at 
 such a pace? You used to be a poor moujik, and now marry ! 
 where did it come from ? Confess, friend, whose breath have you 
 stopped ? whom have you pillaged ? ' 
 
 . ' What are you talking about, batyushka ? I will tell you the 
 exact truth. I have not robbed, nor plundered, nor killed anyone. 
 A treasure tumbled into my hands of its own accord.' 
 
 And he told him how it had all happened. When the pope 
 heard these words he actually shook all over with greediness. 
 Going home, he did nothing by night and by day but think, ' That 
 such a wretched lout of a moujik should have come in for such a 
 lump of money ! Is there any way of tricking him now, and 
 getting this pot of money out of him ? ' He told his wife about it, 
 and he and she discussed the matter together, and held counsel 
 over it. 
 
 ' Listen, mother,' says he ; ' we've a goat, haven't we ? ' 
 
 Yes.' 
 
 ' All right, then ; we'll wait till it's night, and then we'll do the 
 job properly.' 
 
 Late in the evening the pope dragged the goat indoors, killed 
 it, and took off its skin horns, beard, and all complete. Then 
 he pulled the goat's skin over himself and said to his wife : 
 
 ' Bring a needle and thread, mother, and fasten up the skin all 
 round, so that it mayn't slip off.' 
 
 So she took a strong needle, and some tough thread, and 
 sewed him up in the goatskin. Well, at the dead of night, 'the 
 pope went straight to the old man's cottage, got under the window, 
 and began knocking and scratching. The old man heard the 
 noise, jumped up and asked : 
 
 ' Who's there ? ' 
 
 1 The Devil!' 
 
26 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Ours is a holy spot ! ' ! shrieked the moujik, and began 
 crossing himself and uttering prayers. 
 
 1 Listen, old man,' says the pope. ' From me thou wilt not 
 escape, although thou may'st pray, although thou may'st cross thy- 
 self ; much better give me back my pot of money, otherwise I will 
 make thee pay for it. See now, I pitied thee in thy misfortune, 
 and I ' showed thee the treasure, thinking thou wouldst take a 
 little of it to pay for the funeral, but thou hast pillaged it utterly/ 
 
 The old man looked out of window the goat's horns and 
 beard caught his eye it was the Devil himself, no doubt of it. 
 
 * Let's get rid of him, money and all,' thinks the old man ; 
 1 I've lived before now without money, and now I'll go on living 
 without it.' 
 
 So he took the pot of gold, carried it outside, flung it on the 
 ground, and bolted indoors again as quickly as possible. 
 
 The pope seized the pot of money, and hastened home. 
 When he got back, * Come,' says he, ' the money is in pur hands 
 now. Here, mother, put it well out of sight, and take a sharp 
 knife, cut the thread, and pull the goatskin off me before anyone 
 sees it.' 
 
 She took a knife and was beginning to cut the thread at the 
 seam, when forth flowed blood, and the pope'began to howl : 
 
 4 Oh ! it hurts, mother, it hurts ! don't cut, mother, don't cut ! ' 
 
 She began ripping the skin open in another place, but with 
 just the same result. The goatskin had united with his body all 
 round. And all that they tried, all that they did, even to taking 
 the money back to the old man, was of no avail. The goatskin 
 remained clinging tight to the pope all the same. God evidently 
 did it to punish him for his great greediness. 
 
 A somewhat less heathenish story with regard to money 
 is the following, which may be taken as a specimen of the 
 
 1 A phrase often used by the peasants, -when frightened by anything of 
 supernatural appearance. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 27 
 
 Skazkas which bear the impress of the genuine reverence 
 which the peasants feel for their religion, whatever may be 
 the feelings they entertain towards its ministers. While 
 alluding to this subject, by the way, it may be as well to 
 remark that no great reliance can be placed upon the 
 evidence contained in the folk-tales of any land, with re- 
 spect to the relations between its clergy and their flocks. 
 The local parson of folk-lore is, as a general rule, merely 
 the innocent inheritor of the bad reputation acquired by 
 some ecclesiastic of another age and clime. 
 
 THE CROSS-SURETY. l 
 
 ONCE upon a time two merchants lived in a certain town, just on 
 the verge of a stream. One of them was a Russian, the other a 
 Tartar ; both were rich. But the Russian got so utterly ruined by 
 some business or other that he hadn't a single bit of property left. 
 Everything he had was confiscated or stolen. The Russian mer- 
 chant had nothing to turn to he was left as poor as a rat. 2 So 
 he went to his friend the Tartar, and besought him to lend him 
 some money. 
 
 ' Get me a surety/ says the Tartar. 
 
 ' But whom can I get for you, seeing that I haven't a soul be- 
 longing to me ? Stay, though ! there's a surety for you, the life- 
 giving cross on the church ! ' 
 
 ' Very good, my friend ! ' says the Tartar. ' I'll trust your 
 cross. Your faith or ours, it's all one to me.' 
 
 And he gave the Russian merchant fifty thousand roubles. 
 The Russian took the money, bade the Tartar farewell, and went 
 back to trade in divers places. 
 
 By the end of two years he had gained a hundred and fifty 
 thousand roubles by the fifty thousand he had borrowed. Now 
 
 1 Afanasief, Skazki, vii. No. 49. 
 
 2 The Russian expression is gol kak sokbl^ ' bai'e as a hawk.' 
 
28 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 he happened to be sailing one day along the Danube, going with 
 wares from one place to another, when all of a sudden a storm 
 arose, and was on the point of sinking the ship he was in. Then 
 the merchant remembered how he had borrowed money, and given 
 the life-giving cross as a surety, but had not paid his debt. That 
 was doubtless the cause of the storm arising ! No sooner had he 
 said this to himself than the storm began to subside. The mer- 
 chant took a barrel, counted out fifty thousand roubles, wrote the 
 Tartar a note, placed it, together with the money, in the barrel, 
 and then flung the barrel into the water, saying to himself : ' As I 
 gave the cross as my surety to the Tartar, the money will be certain 
 to reach him.' 
 
 The barrel straightway sank to the bottom ; everyone supposed 
 the money was lost. But what happened ? In the Tartar's house 
 there lived a Russian kitchen-maid. One day she happened to 
 go to the river for water, and when she got there she saw a barrel 
 floating along. So she went a little way into the water and began 
 trying to get hold of it. But it wasn't to be done ! When she 
 made at the barrel, it retreated from her ; when she turned from 
 the barrel to the shore, it floated after her. She went on trying 
 and trying for some time, then she went home and told her master 
 all that had happened. At first he wouldn't* believe her, but at 
 last he determined to go to the river and see for himself what sort 
 ofbarrel.it was that was floating there. When he got there sure 
 enough there was the barrel floating, and not far from the shore. 
 The Tartar took off his clothes and went into the water ; before 
 he had gone any distance the barrel came floating up to him of its 
 own accord. He laid hold of it, carried it home, opened it, and 
 looked inside. There he saw a quantity of money, and on top of 
 the money a note. He took out the note and read it, and this is 
 what was said in it : 
 
 * Dear friend ! I return you the fifty thousand roubles for 
 which, when I borrowed them from you, I gave the life-giving 
 cross as a surety.' 
 
 The Tartar read these words and was astounded at the power 
 
INTRODUCTORY 29 
 
 of the life-giving cross. He counted the money over to see 
 whether the full sum was really there. It was there exactly. 
 
 Meanwhile, the Russian merchant, after trading some five years, 
 made a tolerable fortune. Well, he returned to his old home, and, 
 thinking that his barrel had been lost, he considered it his first 
 duty to settle with the Tartar. So he went to his house and 
 offered him the money he had borrowed. Then the Tartar told 
 him all that had happened, and how he had found the barrel in 
 the river, with the money and the note inside it. Then he showed 
 him the note, saying : 
 
 ' Is that really your hand ? ' 
 
 * It certainly is,' replied the other. 
 
 Every one was astounded at this wondrous manifestation, and 
 the Tartar said : 
 
 'Then I've no more money to receive from you, brother; take 
 that back again.' 
 
 The Russian merchant had a service performed as a thank- 
 offering to God, and next day the Tartar was baptised with all his 
 household. The Russian merchant was his godfather, and the 
 kitchen-maid his godmother. After that they both lived long and 
 happily, survived to a great age, and then died peacefully. 1 
 
 There is one marked feature in the Russian peasant's 
 character to which the Skazkas frequently refer his passion 
 for drink. To him strong liquor is a friend, a comforter, a 
 solace amid the ills of life. Intoxication is not so much an 
 evil to be dreaded or remembered with shame, as a joy to\ 
 be fondly anticipated, or classed with the happy memories 
 of the past. By him drunkenness is regarded, like sleep, as 
 
 (the friend of woe and a friend whose services can be even 
 more readily commanded. On certain occasions he almost 
 believes that to get drunk is a duty he owes either to the 
 
 1 In another story St. Nicolas' s picture is the surety. 
 
3 o RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Church, or to the memory of the Dead ; at times without 
 the slightest apparent cause, he is seized by a sudden and 
 irresistible craving for ardent spirits, and he commences a 
 drinking-bout which lasts with intervals of coma for 
 days, or even weeks, after which he resumes his everyday 
 life and his usual sobriety as calmly as if no interruption 
 had taken place. All these ideas and habits of his find 
 expression in his popular tales, giving rise to incidents 
 which are often singularly out of keeping with the rest of 
 the narrative in which they occur. In one of the many 
 variants, 1 for instance, of a wide-spread and well known 
 story that of the three princesses who are rescued from 
 captivity by a hero from whom they are afterwards carried 
 away, and who refuse to get married until certain clothes 
 or shoes or other things impossible for ordinary workmen 
 to make are supplied to them an unfortunate shoemaker 
 is told that if he does not next day produce the necessary 
 shoes (of perfect fit, although no measure has been taken, 
 and all set thick with precious stones) he shall be hanged. 
 Away he goes at once to a traktir, or tavern, and sets to 
 work to drown his grief in drink. After awhile he begins to 
 totter. ' Now then/ he says, ' I'll take home a bicker of 
 spirits with me, and go to bed. And to-morrow morning, 
 as soon as they come to fetch me to be hanged, I'll toss off 
 half the bickerful. They may hang me then without my 
 knowing anything about it.' 2 
 
 In the story of the ' Purchased Wife,' the Princess 
 Anastasia the Beautiful enables the youth Ivan, who 
 ransoms her, to win a large sum of money in the following 
 
 1 Another variant of this story, under the title of ' Norka, ' will be quoted 
 in full in the next chapter. 
 3 Afanasief, vii. p. 107. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 31 
 
 manner. Having worked a piece of embroidery she tells 
 him to take it to market. ' But if any one purchases it/ 
 says she, ' don't take any money from him, but ask him to 
 give you liquor enough to make you drunk; Ivan obeys, 
 and this is the result. ' He drank till he was intoxicated, 
 and when he left the kabak (or pothouse) he tumbled into 
 a muddy pool. A crowd collected and folks looked at him, 
 and said scoffingly, ' Oh the fair youth ! now'd be the time 
 for him to go to church and get married ! ' 
 
 ' Fair or foul ! ' says he, ' if I bid her, Anastasia the 
 Beautiful will kiss the crown of my head. 
 
 ' Dont go bragging like that ! ' says a rich merchant 
 ' why she wouldn't even so much as look at you,' and offers 
 to stake all that he is worth on the truth of his assertion. 
 Ivan accepts the wager. The Princess appears, takes him 
 by the hand, kisses him on the crown of his head, wipes 
 the dirt off him, and leads him home, still inebriated 
 but no longer impecunious. 1 
 
 Sometimes even greater people than the peasants get 
 drunk. The story of ' Semiletka ' 2 a variant of the well 
 known tale of how a woman's wit enables her to guess all 
 riddles, to detect all deceits, and to conquer all difficulties 
 relates how the heroine was chosen by a Voyvode 3 as his 
 wife, with the stipulation that if she meddled in the affairs of 
 his Voyvodeship she was to be sent back to her father, but 
 allowed to take with her whatever thing belonging to her 
 she prized most. The marriage takes place, but one day 
 the well known case comes before him for decision, of the 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. p. 146. 
 
 2 Or 'The Seven-year-old.' Khudyakof, No. 6. See Grimm, No. 94, 
 Die kluge Bauerntochter,' and iii. 170-2. 
 
 3 Voevoda, now a general, formerly meant a civil governor, etc. 
 
32 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 foal of the borrowed mare does it belong to the owner of 
 the mare, or to the borrower in whose possession it was at 
 the time of foaling ? The Voyvode adjudges it to the 
 borrower, and this is how the story ends : 
 
 ' Semiletka heard of this and could not restrain herself, 
 but said that he had decided unfairly. The Voyvode 
 waxed wroth, and demanded a divorce. After dinner 
 Semiletka was obliged to go back to her father's house. 
 But during the dinner she made the Voyvode drink till he 
 was intoxicated. He drank his fill and went to sleep. 
 While he' was sleeping she had him placed in a carriage, 
 and then she drove away with him to her father's. When 
 they had arrived there the Voyvode awoke and said 
 
 1 " Who brought me here ? " 
 
 '" I brought you," said Semiletka ; " there was an agree- 
 ment between us that I might take away with me whatever 
 I prized most. And so I have taken you ! " 
 
 ' The Voyvode marvelled at her wisdom, and made 
 peace with her. He and she then returned home and went 
 on living prosperously.' 
 
 But although drunkenness is very tenderly treated in 
 the Skazkas, as well as in the folk-songs, it forms the subject 
 pf many a moral lesson, couched in terms of the utmost 
 severity, in the stikhi (or poems of a religious character, 
 sung by the blind beggars and other wandering minstrels 
 who sing in front of churches) and also in the ' Legends,' 
 which are tales of a semi-religious (or rather demi-semi- 
 religious) nature. No better specimen of the stories of this 
 class referring to drunkenness can be offered than the 
 history of 
 
INTRODUCTORY 33 
 
 THE AWFUL DRUNKARD. 1 
 
 ONCE there was an old man who was such an awful drunkard as 
 passes all description. Well, one day he went to a kabak, intoxi- 
 cated himself with liquor, and then went staggering home blind 
 drunk. Now his way happened to lie across a river. When he 
 came to the river, he didn't stop long to consider, but kicked off 
 his boots, hung them round his neck, and walked into the water. 
 Scarcely had he got half-way across when he tripped over a stone, 
 tumbled into the water and there was an end of him. 
 
 Now, he left a son called Petrusha. 2 When Peter saw that his 
 father had disappeared and left no trace behind, he took the 
 matter greatly to heart for a time, he wept for awhile, he had a 
 service performed for the repose of his father's soul, and he began 
 to act as head of the family. One Sunday he went to church to 
 pray to God. As he passed along the road a woman was pounding 
 away in front of him. She walked and walked, stumbled over a 
 stone, and began swearing at it, saying, ' What devil shoved you 
 under my feet ? ' 
 
 Hearing these words, Petrusha said : 
 
 4 Good day, aunt ! whither away ? ' 
 
 ' To church, my dear, to pray to God.' 
 
 1 But isn't this sinful conduct of yours ? You're going to 
 church, to pray to God, and yet you think about the Evil One ; 
 your foot stumbles and you throw the fault on the Devil ! ' 
 
 Well, he went to church and then returned home. He walked 
 and walked, and suddenly, goodness knows whence, there appeared 
 before him a fine-looking man, who saluted him and said : 
 
 1 Thanks, Petrusha, for your good word ! ' 
 
 * Who are you, and why do you thank me ? ' asks Petrusha. 
 
 ' I am the Devil. 3 I thank you because, when that woman 
 
 1 Afanasief. ' Legendui,' No. 29. 2 Diminutive of Peter. 
 
 3 The word employed here is not chart, but d'urcoL ftf yta RQj\ 
 
 D 
 
34 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 stumbled; and scolded me without a cause, you said a good word 
 for me.' Then he began to entreat him, saying, ' Come and pay 
 me a visit,TPetrusha. How I will reward you to be sure ! With 
 silver and with gold, with everything will I endow you.' 
 
 1 Very good,' says Petrusha, ' I'll come.' 
 
 Having told him all about the road he was to take, the Devil 
 straightway disappeared, and Petrusha returned home. 
 
 Next day Petrusha set off on his visit to the Devil. He 
 walked and walked, for three whole days did he walk, and then he 
 reached a great forest, dark and dense impossible even to see 
 the sky from within it ! And in that forest there stood a rich 
 palace. Well, he entered the palace, and a fair maiden caught sight 
 of him. She had been stolen from a certain village by the evil ! 
 spirits. And when she caught sight of him she cried : 
 
 ' Whatever have you come here for, good youth ? here devils- 
 abide, they will tear you to pieces.' 
 
 Petrusha told her how and why he had made his appearance 
 in that palace. 
 
 ' Well now, mind this,' says the fair maiden ; l the Devil will 
 begin giving you silver and gold. Don't take any of it, but ask 
 him to give you the very wretched horse which the evil spirits use 
 for fetching wood and water. That horse *is your father. When 
 he came out of the kabak drunk, and fell into the water, the devils 
 immediately seized him and made him their hack, and now they 
 use him for fetching wood and water.' 
 
 Presently there appeared the gallant who had invited Petrusha, 
 and began to regale him with all kinds of meat and drink. And 
 when the time came for Petrusha to be going homewards, 
 ' Come,' said the Devil, ' I will provide you with money and 
 with a capital horse, so that you will speedily get home/ 
 
 ' I don't want anything,' replied Petrusha. Only, if you wish 
 to make me a present, give me that sorry jade which you use for 
 carrying wood and water.' 
 
 ' What good will that be to you ? If you ride it home quickly, 
 I expect it will die ! ' 
 
INTRODUCTORY 35 
 
 ' No matter, let me have it. I won't take any other.' 
 
 So the Devil gave him that sorry jade. Petrusha took it by 
 the bridle and led it away. As soon as he reached the gates, 
 there appeared the fair maiden, and asked : 
 
 ' Have you got the horse ? ' 
 
 < I have.' 
 
 ' Well then, good youth, when you get nigh to your village, 
 take off your cross, trace a circle three times about this horse, and 
 hang the cross round its neck.' 
 
 Petrusha took leave of her and went his way. When he came 
 nigh to his village he did everything exactly as the maiden had 
 instructed him. He took off his copper cross, traced a circle 
 three times about the horse, and hung the cross round its neck. 
 And immediately the horse was no longer there, but in its place 
 there stood before Petrusha his own father. The son looked upon 
 the father, burst into tears, and led him to his cottage ; and for 
 three days the old man remained without speaking, unable to make 
 use of his tongue. And after that they lived happily and in 
 all prosperity. The old man entirely gave up drinking, and to his 
 very last day never took so much as a single drop of spirits. 1 
 
 The Russian peasant is by no means deficient in humour, 
 a fact of which the Skazkas offer abundant evidence. But 
 it is not easy to find stories which can be quoted at full 
 length as illustrations of that humour. The jokes which 
 form the themes of the Russian facetious tales are for the 
 most part common to all Europe. And a similar assertion 
 may be made with regard to the stories of most lands. An 
 unfamiliar joke is but rarely to be discovered in the lower 
 strata of fiction. He who has read the folk-tales of one 
 country only, is apt to attribute to its inhabitants a comic 
 
 1 Som e remarks on the stories of this class, will be found in Chap. VI. The 
 Russian peasants still believe that all people who drink themselves to death 
 are used as carriers of wood and water in the infernal regions. 
 
 D 2 
 
3 5 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 originality to which they can lay no claim. And so a 
 Russian who knows the stories of his own land, but has not 
 studied those of other countries, is very liable to credit the 
 Skazkas with the undivided possession of a number of 
 ' merry jests ' in which they can claim but a very small 
 share jests which in reality form the stock-in-trade of 
 rustic wags among the vineyards of France or Germany, or 
 on the hills of Greece, or beside the fiords of Norway, or 
 along the coasts of Britanny or Argyleshire which for 
 centuries have set beards wagging in Cairo and Ispahan, 
 and in the cool of the evening hour have cheered the heart 
 of the villager weary with his day's toil under the burning 
 sun of India. 
 
 It is only when the joke hinges upon something which 
 is peculiar to a people that it is likely to be found among 
 that people only. But most of the Russian jests turn upon 
 pivots which are familiar to all the world, and have for their 
 themes such common-place topics as the incorrigible folly 
 of man, the inflexible obstinacy of woman. And in their 
 treatment of these subjects they offer very few novel 
 features. It is strange how far a story of this kind may 
 travel, and yet how little alteration it may undergo. Take, 
 for instance, the skits against women which are so uni- 
 versally popular. Far away in outlying districts of Russia 
 we find the same time-honoured quips which have so long 
 figured in collections of English facetiae. There is the 
 good old story, for instance, of the dispute between a 
 husband and wife as to whether a certain rope has been cut 
 with a knife or with scissors, resulting in the murder of the 
 scissors-upholding wife, who is pitched into the river by 
 her knife-advocating husband ; but not before she has, in 
 her very death agony, testified to her belief in the scissors 
 
INTRODUCTORY 37 
 
 hypothesis by a movement of her fingers above the surface 
 of the stream. 1 In a Russian form of the story, told in the 
 government of Astrakhan, the quarrel is about the hus- 
 band's beard. He says he has shaved it, his v/ife declares 
 he has only cut it off. He flings her into a deep pool, and 
 calls to her to say ' shaved.' Utterance is impossible to 
 her, but ' she lifts one hand above the water and by means 
 of two fingers makes signs to show that it was cut' 2 The 
 story has even settled into a proverb. Of a contradictory 
 woman the Russian peasants affirm that, ' If you say 
 " shaved " she'll say " cut." ' 
 
 In the same way another story shows us in Russian garb 
 our old friend the widower who, when looking for his 
 drowned wife -a woman of a very antagonistic disposition 
 went up the river instead of down, saying to his astonished 
 companions, ' She always did everything contrary-wise, so 
 now, no doubt, she's gone against the stream.' 2 A common 
 story again is that of the husband who, having confided a 
 secret to his wife which he justly fears she will reveal, throws 
 discredit on her evidence about things in-general by making 
 her believe various absurd stories which she hastens to 
 repeat. 3 The final paragraph of one of the variants of this 
 
 1 In the sixty-fourth story of Asbjornsen's 'Norske Folke-Eventyr,' (Ny 
 Samling, 1871) the dispute between the husband and wife is about a cornfield 
 as to whether it should be reaped or shorn and she tumbles into a pool 
 while she is making clipping gestures 'under her husband's nose.' In the old 
 fabliau of <Le Pre Tondu' (Le Grand d'Aussy, Fabliaux, 1829, iii. 185), the 
 husband cuts out the tongue of his wife, to prevent her from repeating that his 
 meadow has been clipped, whereupon she makes a clipping sign with her 
 fingers. In Poggio's 'Facetiae,' the wife is doubly aggravating. For copious 
 information with respect to the use made of this story by the romance-writers, 
 see Liebrecht's translations of Basile's 'Pentamerone,'ii. 264, and of Dunlop's 
 * History of Literature,' p. 516, 
 
 2 Afanasief, v. p. 16. 
 
 3 Ibid., iii. p. 87. 
 
38 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 time-honoured jest is quaint, concluding as it does, by way 
 of sting, with a highly popular Russian saw. The wife has 
 gone to the seigneur of the village and accused her husband 
 of having found a treasure and kept it for his own use. 
 The charge is true, but the wife is induced to talk such 
 nonsense, and the husband complains so bitterly of her, 
 that ' the seigneur pitied the moujik for being so unfortu- 
 nate, so he set him at liberty ; and he had him divorced 
 from his wife and married to another, a young and good- 
 looking one. Then the moujik immediately dug up his 
 treasure and began living in the best manner possible. 
 Sure enough the proverb doesn't say without reason : 
 ' Women have long hair and short wits.'. l 
 
 There is another story of this class which is worthy of 
 being mentioned, . as it illustrates a custom in which the 
 Russians differ from some other peoples. 
 
 A certain man had married a wife who was so capricious 
 that there was no living with her. After trying all sorts of 
 devices her dejected husband at last Basked how she had 
 been brought up, and learnt that she had received an 
 t education almost entirely German and French, with scarcely 
 ( any Russian in it ; she had not even been wrapped in 
 swaddling-clothes when a baby, nor swung in a liulka. 
 Thereupon her husband determined to remedy the short- 
 comings of her early education, and ' whenever she showed 
 herself capricious, or took to squalling, he immediately had 
 her swaddled and placed in a liulka, and began swinging 
 her to and fro.' By the end of a half year she became 
 ' quite silky ' all her caprices had been swung out of her. 
 
 1 Chudinsky, No. 8. The proverb is dear to the Tartars also. 
 
 2 Ibid. No. 23. The liulka, or Russian cradle, is suspended and 
 swung, instead of being placed on the floor and rocked. Russian babies are 
 usually swaddled tightly, like American papooses. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 39 
 
 But instead of giving mere extracts from any more of 
 the numerous stories to which the fruitful subject of woman's 
 caprice has given rise, we will quote a couple of such 
 tales at length. The first is the Russian variant of a story 
 which has a long family tree, with ramifications extending 
 over a great part of the world. Dr. Benfey has devoted to 
 it no less than sixteen pages of his introduction to the 
 Panchatantra, 1 tracing it from its original Indian home, and 
 its subsequent abode in Persia, into almost every European 
 land. 
 
 THE BAD WIFE.* 
 
 A BAD wife lived on the worst of terms with her husband, and 
 never paid any attention to what he said. If her husband told 
 her to get up early, she would lie in bed three days at a stretch ; if 
 he wanted her to go to sleep, she couldn't think of sleeping. 
 When her husband asked her to make pancakes, she would say : 
 * You thief, you don't deserve a pancake ! ' 
 
 If he said : 
 
 ' Don't make any pancakes wife, if I don't deserve them,' she 
 would cook a two-gallon-pot full, and say, 
 
 * Eat away, you thief, till they're all gone ! ' 
 
 * Now then, wife,' perhaps he would say, ' I feel quite sorry for 
 you ; don't go toiling and moiling, and don't go out to the hay- 
 cutting/ 
 
 * No, no, you thief ! ' she would reply, * I shall go, and do you 
 follow after me ! ' 
 
 One day, after having had his trouble and bother with her, he 
 went into the forest to look for berries and distract his grief, and 
 he came to where there was a currant bush, and in the middle of 
 
 1 'Panchatantra,' 1859, vol. i. 212, pp. 519-524. I gladly avail myself 
 of this opportunity of gratefully acknowledging my obligations to Dr. Benfey 's 
 invaluable work. 
 
 * ' Afanasief, i. No 9. Written down in the Novgorod Government. Its 
 dialect renders it somewhat difficult to read. 
 
40 XVSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 that bush he saw a bottomless pit. He looked at it for some 
 time and considered, * Why should I live in torment with a bad 
 wife ? can't I put her into that pit ? can't I teach her a good 
 lesson ? ' 
 
 So when he came home, he said : 
 
 ' Wife, don't go into the woods for berries.' 
 
 c Yes, you bugbear, I shall go ! ' 
 
 ' I've found a currant bush ; don't pick it.' 
 
 * Yes I will ; I shall go and pick it clean ; but I won't give you 
 a single currant ! ' 
 
 The husband went out, his wife with him. He came to the 
 currant bush, and his wife jumped into it, crying out at the top of 
 her voice : 
 
 ' Don't you come into the bush, you thief, or I'll kill you ! ' 
 
 And so she got into the middle of the bush, and went flop 
 into the bottomless pit. 
 
 The husband returned home joyfully, and remained there three 
 days ; on the fourth day he went to see how things were going on. 
 Taking a long cord, he let it down into the pit, and out from 
 thence he pulled a little demon. Frightened out of his wits, he 
 was going to throw the imp back again into the pit, but it shrieked 
 aloud, and earnestly entreated him, saying : 
 
 ' Don't send me back again, O peasant ! let me go out into the 
 world ! A bad wife has come, and absolutely devoured us all, 
 pinching us, and biting us we're utterly worn out with it. I'll do 
 you a good turn, if you will.' 
 
 So the peasant let him go free at large in Holy Russia. 
 Then the imp said : 
 
 'Now then, peasant, come along with me to the town of 
 Vologda. I'll take to tormenting people, and you shall cure 
 them.' 
 
 Well, the imp went to where there were merchants' wives and 
 merchants' daughters ; and when they were possessed by him, 
 they fell ill and went crazy. Then the peasant would go to a 
 house where there was illness of this kind, and, as soon as he 
 
IN TROD UC7 OR ? 41 
 
 entered, out would go the enemy ; then there would be blessing in 
 the house, and everyone would suppose that the peasant was a 
 doctor indeed, and would give him money, and treat him to pies. 
 And so the peasant gained an incalculable sum of money. At 
 last the demon said : 
 
 ' You've plenty now, peasant ; arn't you content ? I'm going 
 now to enter into the Boyar's daughter. Mind you don't go- 
 curing her. If you do, I shall eat you.' 
 
 The Boyar's daughter fell ill, and went so crazy that she 
 wanted to eat people. The Boyar ordered his people to find out 
 the peasant (that is to say) to look for such and such a physician. 
 The peasant came, entered the house, and told the Boyar to make 
 all the townspeople, and the carriages with coachmen, stand in 
 the street outside. Moreover, he gave orders that all the coach- 
 men should crack their whips and cry at the top of their voices : 
 ' The Bad Wife has come ! the Bad Wife has come ! ' and then 
 he went into the inner room. As soon as he entered it, the 
 demon rushed at him crying, ' What do you mean, Russian ? what 
 have you come here for ? I'll eat you ! ' 
 
 4 What do you mean ? ' said the peasant, * why I didn't come 
 here to turn you out. I came, out of pity to you, to say that the 
 Bad Wife has come here.' 
 
 The Demon rushed to the window, stared with all his eyes, 
 and heard everyone shouting at the top of his voice the words, 
 < The Bad Wife ! ' 
 
 ' Peasant,' cries the Demon, 'wherever can I take refuge?' 
 
 ' Run back into the pit. She won't go there any more.' 
 
 The Demon went back to the pit and to the Bad. Wife too. 
 
 In return for his services, the Boyar conferred a rich guerdon 
 on the peasant, giving him his daughter to wife, and presenting 
 him with half his property. 
 
 But the Bad Wife sits to this day in the pit in Tartarus. 1 
 
 1 This story is known to the Finns, but with them the Russian Demon, 
 (chortenok = a little chort or devil), has become the Plague. In the original 
 Indian story the demon is one which had formerly lived in a Brahman's house,. 
 
42 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Our final illustration of the Skazkas which satirize 
 women is the story of the Golovikha. It is all the more 
 valuable, inasmuch as it is one of the few folk-tales which 
 throw any light on the working of Russian communal 
 institutions. The word Golovikha means, in its strict sense, 
 
 the wife of a Golova y or elected chief \_Goloi *a = head] of 
 a Volost, or association of village communities ; but here 
 it is used for a ' female Golova' a species of ' mayoress.' 
 
 THE GOLOVIKHA. * 
 
 A CERTAIN woman was very bumptious. Her husband came 
 from a village council one day, and she asked him : 
 
 * What have you been deciding over there ? ' 
 
 ' What have we been deciding ? why choosing a Golova.' 
 4 Whom have you chosen ? ' 
 
 * No one as yet.' 
 
 < Choose me,' says the woman. 
 
 So as soon as her husband went back to the council (she was 
 a bad sort ; he wanted to give her a lesson) he told the elders what 
 she had said. They immediately chose her asOolova. 
 
 Well the woman got along, settled all questions, took bribes, 
 and drank spirits at the peasants' expense. But the time came to 
 collect the poll-tax. The Golova couldn't do it, wasn't able to 
 collect it in time. There came a Cossack, and asked for the 
 Golova ; but the woman had hidden herself. As soon as she 
 learnt that the Cossack had come, off she ran home. 
 
 ' Where, oh where can I hide myself? ' she cries to her 
 husband. ' Husband dear ! tie me up in a bag, and put me out 
 there where the corn-sacks are.' 
 
 but had been frightened away by his cantankerous wife. In the Servian 
 version (Karajich, No. 37), the opening consists of the 'Scissors-story,' to 
 which allusion lias already been made. The vixen falls into a hole which she 
 does not see, so bent is she on controverting her husband. 
 
 1 Afanasief, ii. No. 12. Written down by a 'Crown Serf,' in the Govern- 
 ment of Perm. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 43 
 
 Now there were five sacks of seed-corn outside, so her husband 
 tied up the Golova, and set her in the midst of them. Up came 
 the Cossack and said : 
 
 6 Ha ! so the Golova's in hiding.' 
 
 Then he took to slashing at the sacks one after another with 
 his whip, and the woman to howling at the pitch of her voice : 
 
 ' Oh, my father ! I won't be a Golova, I won't be a Golova/ 
 
 At last the Cossack left off beating the sacks, and rode away. 
 But the woman had had enough of Golova-ing ; from that time 
 forward she took to obeying her husband. 
 
 Before passing on to another subject, it may be advisable 
 to quote one of the stories in which the value of a good 
 and wise wife is fully acknowledged. I have chosen for 
 that purpose one of the variants of a tale from which, in 
 all probability, our own story of ' Whittington and his 
 Cat ' has been derived. With respect to its origin, there 
 can be very little doubt, such a feature as that of the 
 incense-burning pointing directly to a Buddhist source. It 
 is called 
 
 THE THREE CoPECKS. 1 
 
 THERE once was a poor little orphan-lad who had nothing at all to 
 live on ; so he went to a rich moujik and hired himself out to him, 
 agreeing to work for one copeck a year. And when he had 
 worked for a whole year, and had received his copeck, he went to 
 a well and threw it into the water, saying, ' If it doesn't sink, I'll 
 keep it. It will be plain enough I've served my master faithfully.' 
 But the copeck sank. Well, he remained in service a second 
 year, and received a second copeck. Again he flung it into the 
 well, and again it sank to the bottom. He remained a third year ; 
 worked and worked, till the time came for payment. Then his 
 
 1 Afanasief, viii. No. 20. A copeck is worth about a third of a penny. 
 
44 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 master gave him a rouble. ' No/ says the orphan, ' I don't want 
 your money ; give me my copeck.' He got his copeck and flung 
 it into the well. Lo and behold ! there were all three copecks 
 floating on the surface of the water. So he took them and went 
 into the town. 
 
 Now as he went along the street, it happened that some small 
 boys had got hold of a kitten and were tormenting it. And he 
 felt sorry for it, and said : 
 
 * Let me have that kitten, my boys ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, we'll sell it you.' 
 
 ' What do you want for it ? ' 
 
 ' Three copecks.' 
 
 Well, the orphan bought the kitten, and afterwards hired 
 himself to a merchant, to sit in his shop. 
 
 That merchant's business began to prosper wonderfully. He 
 couldn't supply goods fast enough ; purchasers carried oft' every- 
 thing in a twinkling. The merchant got ready to go to sea, 
 freighted a ship, and said to the orphan : 
 
 ' Give me your cat ; maybe it will catch mice on board, and 
 amuse me.' 
 
 ' Pray take it, master ! only if you lose it, "I shan't let you off 
 cheap.' 
 
 The merchant arrived in a far off land, and put up at an inn. 
 The landlord saw that he had a great deal of money, so he gave 
 him a bedroom which was infested by countless swarms of rats 
 and mice, saying to himself, ' If they should happen to eat him up, 
 his money will belong to me.' For in that country they knew 
 nothing about cats, and the rats and mice had completely got the 
 upper hand. Well, the merchant took the cat with him to his room 
 and went to bed. Next morning the landlord came into the room. 
 There was the merchant alive and well, holding the cat in his arms, 
 and stroking its fur ; the cat was purring away, singing its song, 
 and on the floor lay a perfect heap of dead rats and mice ! 
 ' Master merchant, sell me that beastie,' says the landlord. 
 
 'Certainly.' 
 
INTRODUCTORY 45 
 
 ' What do you want for it ? ' 
 
 ' A mere trifle. I'll make the beastie stand on his hind legs 
 while I hold him up by his forelegs, and you shall pile gold pieces 
 around him, so as just to hide him I shall be content with that ! ' 
 
 The landlord agreed to the bargain. The merchant gave him 
 the cat, received a sackful of gold, and as soon as he had settled 
 his affairs, started on his way back. As he sailed across the seas, 
 he thought : 
 
 ' Why should I give the gold to that orphan ? Such a lot of 
 money in return for a mere cat ! that would be too much of a 
 good thing. No, much better keep it myself.' 
 
 The moment he had made up his mind to the sin, all of a 
 sudden there arose a storm such a tremendous one ! the ship 
 was on the point of sinking. 
 
 ' Ah, accursed one that I am ! I've been longing for what 
 doesn't belong to me ; O Lord, forgive me a sinner ! I won't 
 keep back a single copeck.' 
 
 The moment the merchant began praying the winds were 
 stilled, the sea became calm, and the ship went sailing on 
 prosperously to the quay. 
 
 ' Hail, master ! ' says the orphan. ' But where's my cat ? ' 
 
 ' I've sold it,' answers the merchant ; ' There's your money, 
 take it in full.' 
 
 The orphan received the sack of gold, took leave of the 
 merchant, and went to the strand, where the shipmen were. 
 From them he obtained a shipload of incense in exchange for his 
 gold, and he strewed the incense along the strand, and burnt it in 
 honour of God. The sweet savour 'spread through all that land, 
 and suddenly an old man appeared, and he said to the orphan : 
 
 ' Which desirest thou riches, or a good wife ? ' 
 
 ' I know not, old man.' 
 
 ' Well then, go afield. Three brothers are ploughing over 
 there. Ask them to tell thee.' 
 
 The orphan went afield. He looked, and saw peasants tilling 
 the soil. 
 
46 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' God lend you aid ! ' says he. 
 
 ' Thanks, good man ! ' say they. ' What dost thou want ? ' 
 
 4 An old man has sent me here, and told me to ask you which 
 of the two I shall wish for riches or a good wife ? ' 
 
 1 Ask our elder brother ; he's sitting in that cart there.' 
 
 The orphan went to the cart and saw a little boy one that 
 seemed about three years old. 
 
 ' Can this be their elder brother ? ' thought he however he 
 asked him : 
 
 'Which dost thou tell me to choose riches, or a good wife? ' 
 
 ' Choose the good wife.' 
 
 So the orphan returned to the old man. 
 
 4 I'm told to ask for the wife/ says he. 
 
 ' That's all right ! ' said the old man, and disappeared from 
 sight. The orphan looked round ; by his side stood a beautiful 
 woman. 
 
 1 Hail, good youth ! ' says she. ' I am thy wife ; let us go and 
 seek a place where we may live.' l 
 
 One of the sins to which the Popular Tale shows itself 
 most hostile is that of avarice. The folk-tales of all lands 
 delight to gird at misers and skinflints, to place them in 
 unpleasant positions, and to gloat over the sufferings which 
 attend their death and embitter their ghostly existence. As 
 a specimen of the manner in which the humour of the 
 Russian peasant has manipulated the stories^ of this class, 
 most of which probably reached him from the East, we 
 may take the following tale of 
 
 1 The story is continued very little further by Afanasief, its conclusion 
 being the same as that of * The Wise Wife,' in Book vii. No. 22, a tale of 
 magic. For a Servian version of the tale see Vuk Karajich, No. 7. 
 
INTROQ UCTOR Y 47 
 
 THE MISER. l 
 
 THERE once was a rich merchant named Marko a stingier fellow 
 never lived ! One day he went out fora stroll. As he went along 
 the road he saw a beggar an old man, who sat there asking for 
 alms * Please to give, O ye Orthodox, for Christ's sake ! ' 
 
 Marko the Rich passed by. Just at that time there came up- 
 behind him a poor moujik, who felt sorry for the beggar, and gave 
 him a copeck. The rich man seemed to feel ashamed, for he- 
 stopped and said to the moujik : 
 
 1 Harkye, neighbour, lend me a, copeck. I want to give that 
 poor man something, but I've no small change.' 
 
 The moujik gave him one, and asked when he should come 
 for his money. ' Come to-morrow,' was the reply. Well, next day 
 the poor man went to the rich man's to get his copeck. He 
 entered his spacious court-yard and asked : 
 
 ' Is Marko the Rich at home ? ' 
 
 ' Yes. What do you want ? ' replied Marko. 
 
 ' I've come for my copeck.' 
 
 'Ah, brothel ! come again. Really I've no change just now. 1 ' 
 
 The poor man made his bow and went away. 
 
 ' I'll come to-morrow,' said he. 
 
 On the morrow he came again, but it was just the same story 
 as before. 
 
 ' I haven't a single copper. If you like to change me a note 
 for a hundred No? well then come again in a fortnight.' 
 
 At the end of the fortnight the poor man came again, but 
 Marko the Rich saw him from the window, and said to his wife : 
 
 ' Harkye, wife ! I'll strip myself naked and lie down under 
 the holy pictures. Cover me up with a cloth, and sit down and 
 cry, just as you would over a corpse. When the moujik comes 
 for his money, tell him I died this morning.' 
 
 Well, the wife did everything exactly as her husband directed 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 3. From the Novgorod Government. 
 
48 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 her. While she was sitting there drowned in bitter tears, the 
 moujik came into the room. 
 
 ' What do you want ? ' says she. 
 
 ' The money Marko the Rich owes me,' answers the poor 
 man. 
 
 * Ah, moujik, Marko the Rich has wished us farewell ; l he's 
 only just dead.' 
 
 ' The kingdom of heaven be his ! If you'll allow me, mistress, 
 in return for my copeck I'll do him a last service just give his 
 mortal remains a wash. 
 
 So saving he laid hold of a pot full of boiling water and began 
 pouring its scalding contents over Marko the Rich. Marko, his 
 brows knit, his legs contorted, was scarcely able to hold out. 2 
 
 ' Writhe away or not as you please,' thought the poor man, 
 * but pay me my copeck ! ' 
 
 When he had washed the body, and laid it out properly, he 
 said : 
 
 ' Now then, mistress, buy a coffin and have it taken into the 
 church ; I'll go and read psalms over it.' 
 
 So Marko the Rich was put in a coffin and' taken into the 
 church, and the moujik began reading psalms over him. The 
 darkness of night came on. All of a sudden a window opened, 
 and a party of robbers crept through it into the church. The 
 moujik hid himself behind the altar. As soon as the robbers had 
 come in they began dividing their booty, and after everything else 
 was shared there remained over and above a golden sabre each 
 one laid hold of it for himself, no one would give up his claim to 
 it. Out jumped the poor man, crying : 
 
 ' What's the good of disputing that way ? Let the sabre belong 
 to him who will cut this corpse's head oft" ! ' 
 
 Up jumped Marko the Rich like a madman. The robbers 
 
 1 Literally, 'has bid to live long,' a conventional euphemism for 'has 
 <lied.' ' Remember what his name was,' is sometimes added. 
 
 2 It will be observed that the miser holds out against the pain which the 
 scalded demon was unable to bear. See above, p. 21. 
 
IN TROD UCTOR Y 49 
 
 were frightened out of their wits, flung away their spoil, and 
 scampered, off. 
 
 ' Here, Moujik,' says Marko, * let's divide the money.' 
 
 They divided it equally between them : each of the shares was 
 a large one. 
 
 ' But how about the copeck ? ' asks the poor man. 
 
 ' Ah, brother ! ' replies Marko, ' surely you can see I've got 
 no change ! ' 
 
 And so Marko the Rich never paid the copeck after all. 
 
 We may take next the large class of stories about 
 simpletons, so dear to the public in all parts of the 
 world. In the Skazkas a simpleton is known as a durak, 
 a word which admits of a variety of explanations. Some- 
 times it means an idiot, sometimes a fool in the sense 
 of a jester. In the stories of village life its signification is 
 generally that of a ' ninny ;' in the ' fairy stories ' it is fre- 
 quently applied to the youngest of. the well-known 'Three 
 Brothers/ the ' Boots ' of the family as Dr. Dasent has called 
 him. In the latter case, of course, the hero's durachestvo, or 
 foolishness, is purely subjective. It exists only in the false 
 conceptions of his character which his family or his neigh- 
 bours have formed. 1 But the' durak of the following tale is 
 represented as being really ' daft.' The story begins with 
 one of the conventional openings of the Skazka 'In a 
 certain tsarstvo, in a certain gosudarstvo, but the two 
 synonyms for ' kingdom ' or ' state ' are used only because 
 they rhyme. 
 
 THE FOOL AND THE BIRCH-TREE.* 
 
 IN a certain country there once lived an old man who had three 
 sons. Two of them had their wits about them, but the third was 
 
 1 Professor de Gubernatis remarks that he may sometimes be called ' the 
 first Brutus of popular tradition. ' 'Zoological Mythology, r vol. i. p. 199. 
 
 2 Afanasief, v. No. 52. 
 
 E 
 
5 o RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 a fool. The old man died and his sons divided his property 
 among themselves by lot. The sharp-witted ones got plenty of 
 all sorts of good things, but nothing fell to the share of the Simple- 
 ton but one ox and that such a skinny one ! 
 
 Well, fair-time came round, and the clever brothers got ready 
 to go and transact business. The Simpleton saw this, and said : 
 
 1 I'll go too, brothers, and take my ox for sale.' 
 
 So he fastened a cord to the horn of the ox anel drove it to 
 the town. On his way he happened 't<^-prtsS"frirough a forest, and 
 in the forest there stood an old withered Birch- tree. "' Whenever 
 the wind blew the Birch-tree creaked. 
 
 ' What is the Birch creaking about ? ' thinks the Simpleton. 
 ' Surely it must be bargaining for my ox ? Well,' says he, ' if you 
 want to buy it, why buy it. I'm not against selling it. The price 
 of the ox is twenty roubles. I can't take less. Out with the 
 money ! ' 
 
 The Birch made no reply, only went on creaking. But the 
 Simpleton fancied that it was asking for the ox on credit. ' Very 
 good,' says he, ' I'll wait till to-morrow ! ' He tied the ox to the 
 Birch, took leave of the tree, and went home. Presently in came 
 the clever brothers, and began questioning 1pm : 
 
 ' Well, Simpleton ! sold your ox ? ' 
 
 ' I've sold it.' 
 
 ' For how much ? ' 
 
 * For twenty roubles.' 
 
 1 Where's the money?' 
 
 1 I haven't received the money yet. It was settled I should 
 go for it to-morrow.' 
 
 * There's simplicity for you ! ' say they. 
 
 Early next morning the Simpleton got up, dressed himself, and 
 went to the Birch-tree for his money. He reached the wood ; 
 there stood the Birch, waving in the wind, but the ox was not to 
 be seen. During the night the wolves had eaten it. 
 
 ' Now then, neighbour ! ' he exclaimed, ' pay me my money. 
 You promised you'd pay me to-day.' 
 
INTRODUCTORY 51 
 
 The wind blew, the Birch creaked, and the Simpleton cried : 
 
 ' What a liar you are ! Yesterday you kept saying, " I'll pay 
 you to-morrow," and now you make just the same promise. Well, 
 so be it, I'll wait one day more, but not a bit longer. I want the 
 money myself.' 
 
 When he returned home, his brothers again questioned him 
 closely : 
 
 ' Have you got your money ? ' 
 
 'No, brothers ; I've got to wait for my money again.' 
 
 * Whom have you sold it to ? ' 
 
 * To the withered Birch-tree in the forest.' 
 ' Oh, what an idiot ! ' 
 
 On the third day the Simpleton took his hatchet and went to 
 the forest Arriving there, he demanded his money; but the 
 Birch-tree only creaked and creaked. ' No, no, neighbour ! ' 
 says he. * If you're always going to treat me to promises, 1 there'll 
 be no getting anything out of you. I don't like such joking ; I'll 
 pay you out well for it ! ' 
 
 With that he pitched into it with his hatchet, so that its chips 
 flew about in all directions. Now, in that Birch-tree there was a 
 hollow, and in that hollow some robbers had hidden a pot full of 
 gold. The tree split asunder, and the Simpleton caught sight of the 
 gold. He took as much of it as the skirts of his caftan would hold, 
 and toiled home with it. There he showed his brothers what he 
 had brought. 
 
 * Where did you get such a lot, Simpleton ? ' said they. 
 
 ' A neighbour gave it me for my ox. But this isn't anything 
 like the whole of it ; a good half of it I didn't bring home with me ! 
 Come along, brothers, let's get the rest ! ' 
 
 Well, they went into the forest, secured the money, and carried 
 it home. 
 
 * Now mind, Simpleton,' say the sensible brothers, ' don't tell 
 anyone that we've such a lot of gold.' 
 
 1 Zavtrakami podchivat = to dupe ; zavtra to-morrow ; lavtrak = 
 breakfast. 
 
 E 2 
 
52 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Never fear, I won't tell a soul ! ' 
 
 All of a sudden they run up against a Diachok, 1 and says he, 
 
 ' What's that, brothers, you're bringing from the forest ? ' 
 
 The sharp ones replied, 'Mushrooms.' But the Simpleton 
 contradicted them, saying : 
 
 ' They're telling lies ! we're carrying money; here, just take a 
 look at it.' 
 
 The Diachok uttered such an ; Oh ! } then he flung himself on 
 the gold, and began seizing handfuls of it and stuffing them into 
 his pocket. The Simpleton grew angry, dealt him a blow with his 
 hatchet, and struck him dead. 
 
 1 Heigh, Simpleton ! what have you been and done ! ' cried 
 his brothers. ' You're a lost man, and you'll be the cause of our 
 destruction too ! Wherever shall we put the dead body ?' 
 
 They thought and thought, and at last they dragged it to an 
 empty cellar and flung it in there. But later on in the evening 
 the eldest brother said to the second one : 
 
 ' This piece of work is sure to turn out badly. When they 
 begin looking for the Diachok, you'll see that Simpleton will tell 
 them everything. Let's kill a goat and bury it in the cellar, and 
 hide the body of the dead man in some other place.' 
 
 Well, they waited till the dead of night, then they killed a goat 
 and flung it into the cellar, but they carried the Diachok to another 
 place and there hid him in the ground. Several days passed, and 
 then people began looking everywhere for the Diachok, asking 
 everyone about him. 
 
 ' What do you want him for ? ' said the Simpleton, when he 
 was asked. ' I killed him some time ago with my hatchet, and 
 my brothers carried him into the cellar.' 
 
 Straightway they laid hands on the Simpleton, crying, Take 
 us there and show him to us.' 
 
 1 One of the inferior members of the Russian clerical" body, though not of 
 the clergy. But in one of the variants of the story it is a ' pope ' or priest, who 
 appears, and he immediately claims a share in the spoil. Whereupon the 
 Simpleton makes use of his hatchet. Priests are often nicknamed goats by the 
 Russian peasantry, perhaps on account of their long beards. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 53 
 
 The Simpleton went down into the cellar, got hold of the goat's 
 head, and asked : 
 
 ' Was your Diachok dark-haired ? ' 
 
 ' He was.' 
 
 ' And had he a beard ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, he'd a beard.' 
 
 < And horns ? ' 
 
 ' What horns are you talking about, Simpleton ? ' 
 
 ' Well, see for yourselves,' said he, tossing up the head to 
 them. They looked, saw it was a goat's, spat in the Simpleton's 
 face, and went their ways home. 
 
 One of the most popular simpleton-tales in the world is 
 that of the fond parents who harrow their feelings by con- 
 juring up the misfortunes which may possibly await their 
 as yet unborn grandchildren. In Scotland it is told, in a 
 slightly different form, of two old maids who were once 
 found bathed in tears, and who were obliged to confess that 
 they had been day-dreaming and supposing if they had 
 been married, and one had had a boy and the other a girl ; 
 and if the children, when they grew up, had married, and 
 had had a little child ; and if it had tumbled out of window 
 and been killed what a dreadful thing it would have been. 
 At which terrible idea they both gave way to not unnatural 
 tears. In one of its Russian forms, it is told of the old 
 parents of a boy named Lutonya, who Aveep over the 
 hypothetical death of an imaginary grandchild, thinking 
 how sad it would have been if a log which the old woman 
 has dropped had killed that as yet merely potential infant. 
 The parent's grief appears to Lutonya so uncalled for that 
 he leaves home, declaring that he will not return until he 
 has found people more foolish than they. He travels 
 long and far, and witnesses several foolish doings, most 
 
54 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 of which are familiar to us. In one place, a cow is being 
 hoisted on to a roof in order that it may eat the grass 
 growing thereon ; in another a horse is being inserted 
 into its collar by sheer force ; in a third, a woman is 
 fetching milk from the cellar, a spoonful at a time. But 
 the story comes to an end before its hero has discovered 
 the surpassing stupidity of which he is in quest. In another 
 Russian story of a similar nature Lutonya goes from 
 home in search of some one more foolish than his mother, 
 who has been tricked by a cunning sharper. First he finds 
 carpenters attempting to stretch a beam which is not long 
 enough, and earns their gratitude by showing them how to 
 add a piece to it. Then he comes to a place where sickles 
 are unknown, and harvesters are in the habit of biting off 
 the ears of corn, so he makes a sickle for them, thrusts it 
 into a sheaf, and leaves it there. They take it for a 
 monstrous worm, tie a cord to it, and drag it away to 
 the bank of the river. There they fasten one of their 
 number to a log and set him afloat, giving him the end of 
 the cord, in order that he may drag the 'worm ' after him 
 into the water. The log turns over, and the moujik with 
 it, so that his head is under water while his legs appear 
 above it. * Why, brother ! ' they call to him from the bank, 
 ' why are you so particular about your leggings ? If they 
 do get wet, you can dry them at the fire.' But he makes 
 no reply, only drowns. Finally Lutonya meets the coun- 
 terpart of the well-known Irishman, who, when counting 
 the party to which he belongs, always forgets to count 
 himself, and so gets into numerical difficulties. After 
 which he returns home. 1 
 
 1 Afanasief, ii. No. 8, v. No. 5. See also Khudyakof, No. 76. Cf. 
 Grimm, No. 34, 'Die kluge Else.' Haltrich, No. 66. Asbjornsen and Moe, 
 No. 10. (Dasent, No. 24, ' Not a Pin to choose between them.') 
 
INTRO D UCTOR Y 5 5 
 
 It would be easy to multiply examples of this style 
 of humour to find in the folk-tales current all over Russia 
 the equivalents of our own facetious narratives about the 
 wise men of Gotham, the old woman whose petticoats were 
 cut short by the pedlar whose name was Stout, and a 
 number of other inhabitants of Fool-land, to whom the 
 heart of childhood is still closely attached, and also of the 
 exaggeration-stories, the German Lilgenmahrchen, on which 
 was founded the narrative of Baron Munchausen's. sur- 
 prising adventures. But instead of doing this, before 
 passing on to the more important groups of the Skazkas, 
 I will quote, as this chapter's final illustrations of the 
 Russian story-teller's art, an ' animal story ' and a ' legend.' 
 Here is the former : 
 
 THE MiZGiR. 1 _ 
 
 IN the olden years, long long ago, with the springtide fair and 
 the summer's heat there came on the world distress and shame. 
 For gnats and flies began to swarm, biting folks and letting their 
 warm blood flow. 
 
 Then the Spider 2 appeared, the hero bold, who, with waving 
 arms, weaved webs around the highways and byways in which the 
 gnats and flies were most to be found. 
 
 A ghastly Gadfly, coming that way, stumbled straight into the 
 Spider's snare. The Spider, tightly squeezing her throat, prepared 
 to put her out of the world. From the Spider the Gadfly mercy 
 sought. 
 
 ' Good father Spider ! please not to kill me. I've ever so 
 many little ones. Without me they'll be orphans left, and from 
 door to door have to beg their bread and squabble with dogs.' 
 
 1 Afanasief, ii. No. 5- Written down by a crown-peasant in the government 
 of Perm. 
 
 - Mizgir, a venomous spicier, like the Tarantula, found in the Kirghiz 
 : Steppes. 
 
56 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Well, the Spider released her. Away she flew, and everywhere 
 humming and buzzing about, told the flies and gnats of what had 
 occurred. 
 
 1 Ho, ye gnats and flies ! Meet here beneath this ash-tree's 
 roots. A spider has come, and, with waving of arms and weaving 
 of nets, has set his snares in all the ways to which the flies and 
 gnats resort. He'll catch them, every single one ! ' 
 
 They flew to the spot ; beneath the ash-tree's roots they hid, and 
 lay there as though they were dead. The Spider came, and there 
 he found a cricket, a beetle, and a bug. 
 
 ' O Cricket ! ' he cried, * upon this mound sit and take snuff ! ' 
 Beetle, do thou beat a drum. And do thou crawl, O Bug, the 
 bun-like, beneath the ash, and spread abroad this news of me, the 
 Spider, the wrestler, the hero bold that the Spider, the wrestler, 
 the hero bold, no longer in the world exists ; that they have sent 
 him to Kazan that in Kazan, upon a block, they've chopped his 
 head off, and the block destroyed.' 
 
 On the mound sat the Cricket and took snuff. The Beetle 
 smote upon the drum. The Bug crawled in among the ash-tree's 
 roots, and cried : 
 
 * Why have ye fallen ? Wherefore as in death do ye lie here ? 
 Truly no longer lives the Spider, the wrestler, the hero bold. 
 They've sent him to Kazan, and in Kazan they've chopped his 
 head off on a block, and afterwards destroyed the block.' 
 
 The gnats and flies grew blithe and merry. Thrice they 
 crossed themselves, then out they flew and straight into the 
 Spider's snares. Said he : 
 
 ' But seldom do ye come ! I would that ye would far more 
 often come to visit me ! to quaff my wine and beer, and pay me 
 tribute ! ' l 
 
 1 In another story bearing the same title (v. 39) the spider lies on its back 
 awaiting its prey. Up comes 'the honourable widow,' the wasp, and falls 
 straight into the trap. Ihe spider beheads her. Then the gnats and flies 
 assemble, perform a funeral service over her remains, and carry them off on 
 their shoulders to the village of Komarovo (komar = gnat). For speci- 
 
IN TROD UCTOR Y 5.7 
 
 This story is specially interesting in the original, in- 
 asmuch as _ it is rhymed throughout, although printed as 
 prose. A kind of lilt is perceptible in many of the Skazkas, 
 and traces of rhyme are often to be detected in them, but 
 * The Mizgir's ' mould is different from theirs. Many stories 
 also exist in an artificially versified form, but their move- 
 ment differs entirely from that of the* naturally cadenced 
 periods of the ordinary Skazka, or of such rhymed prose 
 as that of ' The Mizgir.' 
 
 The following legend is not altogether new in ' motive,' 
 but a certain freshness is lent to it by its simple style, its 
 unstrained humour, and its genial tone. 
 
 THE SMITH AND THE DEMON. l 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a Smith, and he had one son, a sharp, 
 smart, six-year-old boy. One day the old man went to church, 
 and as he stood before a picture of the Last Judgment he saw a 
 Demon painted there such a terrible one ! black, with horns and 
 a tail. 
 
 ' O my ! ' says he to himself. ' Suppose I get just such another 
 painted for the smithy. So he hired an artist, and ordered him 
 to paint on the door of the smithy exactly such another demon as 
 he had seen in the church. The artist painted it. Thencefor- 
 ward the old man, every time he entered the smithy, always looked 
 at the Demon and said, ' Good morning, fellow-countryman ! ' 
 And then he would lay the fire in the furnace and begin his 
 work. 
 
 Well, the Smith lived in good accord with the Demon for 
 some ten years. Then he fell ill and died. His son succeeded 
 
 mens of the Russian ' Beast-Epos ' the reader is referred (as I have stated 
 in the preface) to Professor de Gubernatis's 'Zoological Mythology.' 
 
 1 Afanasief, ' Legendui,' No. 31. Taken from Dahl's collection. Some, 
 remarks on the Russian 'legends' are given in Chap. VI. 
 
58 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 to his place as head of the household, and took the smithy into his 
 own hands. But he was not disposed to show attention to the 
 Demon as the old man had done. When he went into the smithy 
 in the morning, he never said ' Good morrow ' to him ; instead of 
 offering him a kindly word, he took the biggest hammer he had 
 handy, and thumped the Demon with it three times right on the 
 forehead, and then he would goto his work. And when one of God's 
 holy days came round, he would go to church and offer each saint 
 a taper ; but he would go up to the Demon and spit in his face. 
 Thus three years went by, he all the while favouring the Evil One 
 every morning either with a spitting or with a hammering. The 
 Demon endured it and endured it, and at last found it pass all 
 endurance. It was too much for him. 
 
 ( I've had quite enough of this insolence from him ! ' thinks 
 he. ' Suppose I make use of a little diplomacy, and play him some 
 sort of a trick ! ' 
 
 So the Demon took the form of a youth, and went to the 
 smithy. 
 
 ' Good day, uncle ! ' says he. 
 
 1 Good day ! ' 
 
 ' What should you say, uncle, to taking me as an appren- 
 tice ? At all events, I could carry fuel for you and blow the 
 bellows.' 
 
 The Smith liked the idea. ' Why shouldn't I ? ' he replied. 
 * Two are better than one.' 
 
 The Demon began to learn his trade ; at the end of a month he 
 knew more about smith's work than his master did himself, was 
 able to do everything that his master couldn't do. It was a real 
 pleasure to look at him ! There's no describing how satisfied his 
 master was with him, how fond he got of him. Sometimes the 
 master didn't go into the smithy at all himself, but trusted entirely 
 to his journeyman, who had complete charge of everything. 
 
 Well, it happened one day that the master was not at home, 
 and the journeyman was left all by himself in the smithy. Pre- 
 
INTRODUCTORY 59 
 
 sently he saw an old lady l driving along the street in her Carriage, 
 whereupon he popped his head out of doors and began shouting : 
 
 ' Heigh, sirs ! Be so good as to step in here ! We've opened 
 a new business here; we turn old folks into young ones.' 
 
 Out of her carriage jumped the lady in a trice, and ran into 
 the smithy. 
 
 ' What's that you're bragging about ? Do you mean to say it's 
 true ? Can you really do it ? ' she asked the youth. 
 
 We haven't got to learn our business ! ' answered the Demon. 
 ' If I hadn't been able to do it, I wouldn't have invited people to 
 try.' 
 
 ' And how much does it cost ? ' asked the lady. 
 
 * Five hundred roubles altogether.' 
 
 ' Well, then, there's your money ; make a young woman of 
 me.' 
 
 The Demon took the money ; then he sent the lady's coach- 
 man into the village. - 
 
 ' Go,' says he, 'and bring me here two buckets full of milk.' 
 
 After that he took a pair of tongs, caught hold of the lady by 
 the feet, flung her into the furnace, and burnt her up ; nothing 
 was left of her but her bare bones. 
 
 When the buckets of milk were brought, he emptied them into 
 a large tub, then he collected all the bones and flung them into 
 the milk. Just fancy ! at the end of about three minutes the 
 lady emerged from the milk alive, and young, and beautiful ! 
 
 Well, she got into her carriage and drove home. There she 
 went straight to her husband, and he stared hard at her, but didn't 
 know she was his wife. 
 
 ' What are you staring at ? ' says the lady. * I'm young and 
 elegant, you see, and I don't want to have an old husband ! Be 
 off at once to the smithy, and get them to make you young ; if 
 you don't, I won't so much as acknowledge you ! ' 
 
 There was no help for it ; off set the seigneur. But by that 
 
 1 Baruinya, the wife oFa barin or seigneur. 
 
60 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 time the Smith had returned home, and had gone into the smithy. 
 He looked about ; the journeyman wasn't to be seen. He 
 searched and searched, he enquired and enquired, never a thing 
 came of it ; not even a trace of the youth could be found. He 
 took to his work by himself, and was hammering away, when at 
 that moment up drove- the seigneur, and walked straight into the 
 smithy. 
 
 ' Make a young man of me,' says he. 
 
 1 Are you in your right mind, Barin ? How can one make a 
 young man of you ? ' 
 
 ' Come now ! you know all about that.' 
 
 ' I know nothing of the kind/ 
 
 'You lie, you scoundrel ! Since you made my old woman 
 young, make me young too ; otherwise, there will be no living 
 with her for me.' 
 
 'Why I haven't so much as seen your good lady.' 
 
 1 Your journeyman saw her, and that's just the same thing. 
 If he knew how to do the job, surely you, an old hand, must have 
 learnt how to do it long ago. Come now, set to work at once. 
 If you don't, it will be the worse for you.' I'll have you rubbed 
 down with a birch-tree towel.' 
 
 The Smith was compelled to try his hand at transforming the 
 seigneur. He held a private conversation with the coachman as 
 to how his journeyman had set to work with the lady, and what 
 he had done to her, and then he thought : 
 
 ' So be it ! I'll do the same. If I fall on my feet, good ; if 
 I don't, well, I must suffer all the same ! ' 
 
 So he set to work at once, stripped the seigneur naked, laid 
 hold of him by the legs with the tongs, popped him into the fur- 
 nace, and began blowing the bellows. After he had burnt him to 
 a cinder, he collected his remains, flung them into the milk, and 
 then waited to see how soon a youthful seigneur would jump out 
 of it. He waited one hour, two hours. But nothing came of it. 
 He made a search in the tub. There was nothing in it but bones, 
 and those charred ones. 
 
INTRODUCTORY 61 
 
 Just then the lady sent messengers to the smithy, to ask 
 whether the seigneur would soon be ready. The poor Smith 
 had to reply that the seigneur was no more. 
 
 When the lady heard that the Smith had only turned her hus- 
 band into a cinder, instead of making him young, she was tremen- 
 dously angry, and she called together her trusty servants, and 
 ordered them to drag him to the gallows. No sooner said than 
 done. Her servants ran to the Smith's house, laid hold of him, 
 tied his hands together, and dragged him off to the gallows. All 
 of a sudden there came up with them the youngster who used to 
 live with the Smith as his journeyman, who asked him : 
 
 ' Where are they taking you, master ? ' 
 
 1 They're going to hang me,' replied the Smith, and straightway 
 related all that had happened to him. 
 
 ' Well, uncle ! ' said the Demon, swear that you will never 
 strike me with your hammer, but that you will pay me the same 
 respect your father always paid, and the seigneur shall be alive, 
 and young too, in a trice.' 
 
 The Smith began promising and swearing that he would never 
 again lift his hammer against the Demon, but would always pay 
 him every attention. Thereupon the journeyman hastened to 
 the smithy, and shortly afterwards came back again, bringing 
 the seigneur with him, and crying to the servants : 
 
 ' Hold ! hold ! Don't hang him ! Here's your master ! ' 
 
 Then they immediately untied the cords, and let the Smith go 
 free. 
 
 From that time forward the Smith gave up spitting at the 
 Demon and striking him with his hammer. The journeyman 
 disappeared, and was never seen again. But the seigneur and his 
 lady entered upon a prosperous course of life, and if they haven't 
 died, they're living still. 1 
 
 1 The chort of this legend is evidently akin to the devil himself, whom 
 traditions frequently connect with blacksmiths ; but his prototype, in the 
 original form of this story, was doubtless a demi-god or demon. His part is 
 played by St. Nicholas in the legend of ' The Priest with the Greedy 
 Eyes,' for which, and for further comment on the story, see Chap. VI. 
 
62 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 MYTHOLOGICAL. 
 
 Principal Incarnations of Evil. 
 
 THE present chapter is devoted to specimens of those 
 skazkas which most Russian critics assert to be distinctly 
 mythical. The stones of this class are so numerous, that 
 the task of selection has been by no means easy. But I 
 have done my best to choose such examples as are most 
 characteristic of that species of the 'mythical' folk-tale 
 which prevails in Russia, and to avoid, as far as possible, 
 the repetition of narratives which have already been made 
 familiar to the English reader by translations of German 
 and Scandinavian stories. 
 
 There is a more marked individuality in the Russian 
 tales of this kind, as compared with those of Western 
 Europe, than is to be traced in the stories (especially 
 those of a humorous cast) which relate to the events 
 that chequer an ordinary existence. The actors in the com- 
 ediettas of European peasant-life vary but little, either in 
 title or in character, wherever the scene may be laid ; just 
 as in the European beast-epos the Fox, the Wolf, and the 
 Bear play parts which change but slightly with the regions 
 they inhabit. But the supernatural beings which people 
 the fairy-land peculiar to each race, though closely 
 resembling each other in many respects, differ conspicuously 
 
INTRODUCTORY 65 
 
 in others. They may, it is true, be nothing more than 
 various developments of the same original type ; they may 
 be traceable to germs common to the prehistoric ancestors 
 of the now widely separated Aryan peoples ; their peculiari- 
 ties may simply be due to the accidents to which travellers 
 from distant lands are liable. But at all events e^ch 
 family now has features of its own, typical characteristics 
 by which it may be readily distinguished from its neigh- 
 bours. My chief aim at present is to give an idea of those 
 characteristics which lend individuality to the 'mythical 
 beings ' in the Skazkas ; in order to effect this, I shall at- 
 tempt a delineation of those supernatural figures, to some 
 extent peculiar to Slavonic fairy-land, which make their 
 appearance in the Russian folk-tales. I have given a brief 
 sketch of them elsewhere. 1 I now propose to deal with 
 them more fully, quoting at length, instead of merely 
 mentioning, some of the evidence on which the proof of 
 their existence depends. 
 
 For the sake of convenience, we may select from the 
 great mass of the mythical skazkas those which are 
 supposed most manifestly to typify the conflict of opposing 
 elements whether of Good and Evil, or of Light and 
 Darkness, or of Heat and Cold, or of any other pair of 
 antagonistic forces or phenomena. The typical hero of 
 this class of stories, who represents the cause of right, and 
 who is resolved by mythologists into so many different 
 essences, presents almost identically the same appearance 
 in most of the countries wherein he has become naturalised. 
 He is endowed with supernatural powers, but he remains a 
 man for all that. Whether as prince or peasant, he alters 
 
 1 ' Song;s of the Russian People,' pp. 160-185. 
 
'64 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 but very little in his wanderings among the Aryan races of 
 Europe. 
 
 And a somewhat similar statement may be made about 
 his feminine counterpart for all the types of Fairy-land 
 life are of an epicene nature, admitting of a feminine as 
 well as a masculine development the heroine who in the 
 Skazkas, as well as in other folk-tales, braves the wrath of 
 female demons in quest of means whereby to lighten the 
 darkness of her home, or rescues her bewitched brothers 
 from the thraldom of an enchantress, or liberates her 
 captive husband from a dungeon's gloom. 
 
 But their antagonists the dark or evil beings whom the 
 liero attacks and eventually destroys, or whom the heroine 
 overcomes by her virtues, her subtlety, or her skill vary to 
 a considerable extent with the region they occupy, or 
 rather with the people in whose memories they dwell. The 
 Giants by killing whom our own Jack gained his renown, 
 the Norse Trolls, the Ogres of southern romance, the Drakos 
 and Lamia of modern Greece, the Lithuanian Laume these 
 and all the other groups of monstrous forms under which 
 the imagination of each race has embodied its ideas about 
 (according to one hypothesis) the Powers of Darkness it 
 feared, or (according to another) the Aborigines it detested, 
 differ from each other to a considerable and easily recog- 
 nisable extent. An excellent illustration of this statement 
 is offered by the contrast between the Slavonic group of 
 supernatural beings of this class and their equivalents in 
 lands tenanted by non-Slavonic members of the Indo- 
 European family. A family likeness will, of course, be traced 
 between all these conceptions of popular fancy, but the 
 gloomy figures with which the folk-tales of the Slavonians 
 render us familiar may be distinguished at a glance among 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 65 
 
 their kindred monsters of Latin, Hellenic, Teutonic, or 
 Celtic extraction. Of those among the number to which the 
 Russian skazkas relate I will now proceed to give a sketch, 
 allowing the stories, so far as is possible, to speak for 
 themselves. 
 
 If the powers of darkness in the ' mythical ' skazkas are 
 divided into two groups the one male, the other female 
 there stand out as the most prominent figures in the former 
 set, the Snake (or some other illustration of ' Zoological 
 Mythology'), Koshchei the Deathless, and the Morskoi 
 Tsar or King of the Waters. In the latter group the 
 principal characters are the Baba Yaga, or Hag, her close 
 connection the. Witch, and the Female Snake. On the 
 forms and natures of the less conspicuous characters to 
 be found in either class we will not at present dwell. An 
 opportunity for commenting on some of them will be 
 afforded in another chapter. 
 
 To begin with the Snake. His outline, like that of the 
 cloud with which he is so frequently associated, and which 
 he is often supposed to typify, is seldom well-defined. 
 Now in one form and now in another, he glides a shifting 
 shape, of which it is difficult to obtain a satisfactory view. 
 Sometimes he retains throughout the story an exclusively 
 reptilian character ; sometimes he is of a mixed nature, 
 partly serpent and partly man. In one story we see him 
 riding on horseback, with hawk on wrist (or raven on 
 shoulder) and hound at heel ; in another he figures as 
 a composite being with a human body and a serpent's 
 head ; in a third he flies as a fiery snake into his mistress's 
 bower, stamps with his foot on the ground, and becomes a 
 youthful gallant. But in most cases he is a serpent which 
 in outward appearance seems to differ from other ophidians 
 
 F 
 
66 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 only in being winged and polycephalous the number of 
 his heads generally varying from three to twelve. 1 
 
 He is often known by the name of Zmei' [snake] Gorui- 
 nuich [son of the gora or mountain], and sometimes he is 
 supposed to dwell in the mountain caverns. To his abode, 
 whether in the bowels of the earth, or in the open light of 
 day whether it be a sumptuous palace or ' an izba on fowl's 
 legs,' a hut upheld by slender supports on which it turns 
 as on a pivot he carries off his prey. In one story he 
 appears to have stolen, or in some way concealed, the day- 
 light ; in another the bright moon and the many stars come 
 forth from within him after his death. But as a general 
 rule it is some queen or princess whom he tears away from 
 her home, as Pluto carried off Proserpina, and who remains 
 with him reluctantly, and hails as her rescuer the hero who 
 comes to give him battle. Sometimes, however, the snake 
 is represented as having a wife of his own species, and 
 daughters who share their parent's tastes and powers. 
 Such is the case in the (South-Russian) story of 
 
 + 
 x V 
 
 IVAN POPYALOF. 2 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was an old couple, and they had three 
 sons. Two of these had their wits about them, but the third was 
 a simpleton, Ivan by name, surnamed Popyalof. 
 
 For twelve whole years Ivan lay among the ashes from the 
 stove ; but then he arose, and shook himself, so that six poods of 
 ashes 3 fell off from him. 
 
 1 In one story (Khudyakof, No. 11*7) there are snakes with twenty-eight 
 and twenty-nine heads, but this is unusual. 
 
 2 Afanasief, ii. No. 30. From the Che ligof Government. The accent 
 falls on the second syllable of Ivan, on the first of Popyalof. 
 
 8 Popyal, provincial word for pepel = ashes, cinders, whence the surname 
 Popyalof. A pood is about 4olbs. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 67 
 
 Now in the land in which Ivan lived there was never any day, 
 but always night. That was a Snake's doing. Well, Ivan under- 
 took to kill that Snake, so he said to his father, ' Father, make me 
 a mace five poods in weight.' And when he had got the mace, 
 he went out into the fields, and flung it straight up in the air, and 
 then he went home. The next day he went out into the fields to 
 the spot from which he had flung the mace on high, and stood 
 there with his head thrown back. So when ' the mace fell down 
 again it hit him on the forehead. And the mace broke in two. 
 
 Ivan went home and said to his father, ' Father, make me 
 another mace, a ten pood one.' And when he had got it he went 
 out into the fields, and flung it aloft. And the mace went flying 
 through the air for three days and three nights. On the fourth 
 day Ivan went out to the same spot, and when the mace came 
 tumbling down, he put his knee in the way, and the mace broke 
 over it into three pieces. 
 
 Ivan went home and told his father to make him a third mace, 
 one of fifteen poods weight. And when he had got it, he went 
 out into the fields and flung it aloft. And the mace was up in the 
 air six days. On the seventh Ivan went to the same spot as 
 before. Down fell the mace, and when it struck Ivan's forehead, 
 the forehead bowed under it. Thereupon he said, ' This mace will 
 do for the Snake ! ' 
 
 So when he had got everything ready, he went forth with his 
 brothers to fight the Snake. He rode and rode, and presently 
 there stood before him a hut on fowl's legs, 1 and in that hut lived 
 the Snake. There all the party came to a standstill. Then Ivan 
 hung up his gloves, and said to his brothers, ' Should blood drop 
 from my gloves, make haste to help me.' When he had said this 
 he went into the hut and sat down under the boarding. 2 
 
 Presently there rode up a Snake with three heads. His steed 
 
 1 On slender supports. 
 
 2 Pod mostom, i.e. says Afanasief (vol. v. p. 243) under the raised flooring 
 which, in an izba, serves as a sleeping place. 
 
 F 2 
 
68 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 stumbled, his hound howled, his falcon clamoured. 1 Then cried 
 the Snake : 
 
 * Wherefore hast thou stumbled, O Steed ! hast thou howled, O 
 Hound ! hast thou clamoured, O Falcon?' 
 
 ' How can I but stumble/ replied the Steed, ' when under the 
 boarding sits Ivan Popyalof ? ' 
 
 Then said the Snake, ' Come forth, Ivanushka ! Let us try our 
 strength together/ Ivan came forth, and they began to fight. 
 And Ivan killed the Snake, and then sat down again beneath the 
 boarding. 
 
 Presently there came another Snake, a six-headed one, and 
 him too Ivan killed. And then there came a third, which had 
 twelve heads. Well, Ivan began to fight with him, and lopped off 
 nine of his heads. The Snake had no strength left in him. Just 
 then a raven came flying by, and it croaked : 
 
 'Krof? Krof!' 2 
 
 Then the Snake cried to the Raven, ' Fly, and tell my wife to 
 conie and devour Ivan Popyalof.' 
 
 But Ivan cried : ' Fly, and tell my brothers to come, and then 
 we will kill this Snake, and give his flesh to thee.' 
 
 And the Raven gave ear to what Ivan said, and flew to his 
 brothers and began to croak above their heads. The brothers 
 awoke, and when they heard the cry of the Raven, they hastened 
 to their brother's aid. And they killed the Sriake, and then, 
 having taken his heads, they went into his hut and destroyed % 
 them. And immediately there was bright light throughout the 
 whole land. 
 
 After killing the Snake, Ivan Popyalof and his brothers set off 
 on their way home. But he had forgotten to take away his gloves, 
 so he went back to fetch them, telling his brothers to wait for him 
 meanwhile. Now when he had reached the hut and was going to 
 take away his gloves, he heard the voices of the Snake's wife and 
 
 1 Zatvelyef, apparently a provincial word. 
 
 2 The Russian word krofzkQ signifies blood. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 69 
 
 daughters, who were talking with each other. So he turned him- 
 self into a cat, and began to mew outside the door. They let him 
 in, and he listened to everything they said. Then he got his 
 gloves and hastened away. 
 
 As soon as he came to where his brothers were, he mounted 
 his horse, and they all started afresh. They rode and rode; 
 presently they saw before them a green meadow, and on that 
 meadow lay silken cushions. Then the elder brothers said, ' Let's 
 turn out our horses to graze here, while we rest ourselves a little.' 
 
 But Ivan said, ' Wait a minute, brothers ! ' and he seized his 
 mace, and struck the cushions with it. And out of those cushions 
 there streamed blood. 
 
 So they all went on further. They rode and rode ; presently 
 there stood before them an apple-tree,, and upon it were gold and 
 silver apples. Then the elder brothers said, * Let's eat an apple 
 apiece.' But Ivan said, ' Wait a minute, brothers j I'll try them 
 first,' and he took his mace, and struck the apple-tree with it. And 
 out of the tree streamed blood. 
 
 So they went on further. They rode and rode, and by and by 
 they saw a spring in front of them. And the elder brothers cried, 
 ' Let's have a drink of water.' But Ivan Popyalof cried : 'Stop, 
 brothers ! ' and he raised his mace and struck the spring, and its 
 waters became blood. 
 
 For the meadow, the silken cushions, the apple-tree, and the 
 spring, were all of them daughters of the Snake. 
 
 After killing the Snake's daughters, Ivan and his brothers 
 went on homewards. Presently came the Snake's Wife flying after 
 them, and she opened her jaws from the sky._to the earth, and 
 tried to swallow up Ivan. But Ivan and his brothers threw three t 
 poods of salt into her mouth. She swallowed the salt, thinking 
 it was Ivan Popyalof, but afterwards when she had tasted the salt, 
 and found out it was not Ivan she flew after him again. 
 
 Then he perceived that danger was at hand, and so he let 
 his horse go free, and hid himself behind twelve doors in the forge 
 of Kuzma and Demian. The Snake's Wife came flying up, and 
 
70 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 said to Kuzma and Demian, ' Give me up Ivan Popyalof.' But 
 they replied : 
 
 ' Send your tongue through the twelve doors and take him.' 
 So the Snake's Wife began licking the doors. But meanwhile they 
 all heated iron pincers, and as soon as she had sent her tongue 
 through into the smithy, they caught tight hold of her by the 
 tongue, and began thumping her with hammers. And when the 
 Snake's Wife was dead they consumed her with fire, and scattered 
 her ashes to the winds. And then they went home, and there 
 they lived and enjoyed themselves, feasting and revelling, and 
 drinking mead and wine. 
 
 I was there too, and had liquor to drink ; it didn't go into my 
 mouth, but only ran down my beard. 1 
 
 The skazka of Ivan Suikovich (Bull's son) 2 contains a 
 variant of part of this story, but the dragon which the 
 Slavonic St. George kills is called, not a snake, but a 
 Chudo-Yudo. 3 Ivan watches one night while his brothers 
 sleep. Presently up rides ' a six-headed Chudo-Yudo ' 
 which he easily kills. The next night he slays, but with 
 more difficulty, a nine-headed specimen of the same family. 
 On the third night appears ' a twelve-headed Chudo-Yudo,' 
 mounted on a horse ' with twelve wings, its coat of silver, 
 its mane and tail of gold.' Ivan lops off three of the 
 monster's heads, but they, like those of the Lernaean Hydra, 
 become re-attached to their necks at the touch, of their 
 
 1 The last sentence of the story forms one of the conventional and meaning- 
 less 'tags ' frequently attached to the skazkas. In future I shall omit them. 
 Kuzma and Demian (SS. Cosmas and Damian) figure in Russian folk-lore 
 as saintly and supernatural smiths, frequently at war with snakes, which 
 they maltreat in various ways. See A. de Gubernatis, 'Zoological Mythology,' 
 vol. ii. p. 397. 
 
 * Afanasief, Skazki, vol. vii. p. 3. 
 
 * Chua = prodigy. Yudo may be a remembrance of Judas, or it may be 
 used merel ' for the sake of the rhyme. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 71 
 
 owner's ' fiery finger.' Ivan, whom his foe has driven into 
 
 the ground up to his knees, hurls one of his gloves at the 
 
 hut in which his brothers are sleeping. It smashes the 
 
 , windows, but the sleepers slumber on and take no heed. 
 
 f Presently Ivan smites off six of his antagonist's heads, but 
 
 ^ they grow again as before. 1 Half buried in the ground by 
 
 m the monster's strength, Ivan hurls his other glove at the 
 
 hut, piercing its roof this time. But still his brothers 
 
 I slumber on. At last, after fruitlessly shearing off nine of 
 
 ^ the Chudo-Yudo's heads, and finding himself embedded in 
 
 the ground up to his armpits, Ivan flings his cap at the hut. 
 
 The hut reels under the blow and its beams fall asunder ; 
 
 his brothers awake, and hasten to his aid, and the Chudo- 
 
 Yudo is destroyed. The ' Chu^o-Yudo wives ' as the 
 
 widows of the three monsters are called, then proceed to 
 
 play the parts attributed in ' Ivan Popyalof ' to the Snake's 
 
 daughters. 
 
 ' I will become an appletree with golden and silver 
 apples,' says the first ; ' whoever plucks an apple will, imme- 
 diately burst.' Says the second, * I will become a spring 
 on the water will float two cups, the one golden, the other 
 of silver ; whoever touches one of the cups, him will I drown.' 
 And the third says, ' I will become a golden bed ; whoever 
 lies down upon that bed will be consumed with fire.' Ivan, 
 
 1 In an Indian story (' Kathasaritsagara,' book vii. chap. 42), Indrasena 
 comes to a place in which sits a Rakshasa on a throne between two fair ladies. 
 He attacks the demon with a magic sword, and soon cuts off his head. But 
 the head always grows again, until at last the younger of the ladies gives him a 
 sign to split in half the head he has just chopped off. Thereupon the demon 
 dies, and the two ladies greet the conqueror rapturously. The younger is the 
 demon's sister, the elder is a king's daughter, whom the demon has carried 
 off from her home, after eating her father and all his followers. See Professor 
 Brockhaus's summary in the ' Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K. Sachs. 
 Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften, ' 1861, pp. 241-2. 
 
72 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 in a sparrow's form, overhears all this, and acts as in the 
 preceding story. The three widows die, but their mother, 
 ' an old witch,' determines on revenge. Under the form of 
 a beggar-woman she asks alms from the retreating brothers. 
 Ivan tenders her a ducat. She seizes, not the ducat, but 
 his outstretched hand, and in a moment whisks him off un- 
 derground to her husband, an Aged One, whose appearance 
 is that of the mythical being whom the Servians call the 
 Vy. He ' lies on an iron couch, and sees nothing ; his long 
 eyelashes and thick eyebrows completely hide his eyes,' 
 but he sends for ' twelve mighty heroes,' and orders them to 
 take iron forks and lift up the hair about his eyes, and then 
 he gazes at the destroyer of his family. The glance of the 
 Servian Vy is supposed to be as deadly as that of a 
 basilisk, but the patriarch of the Russian story does not 
 injure his captive. He merely sends him on an errand 
 which leads to a fresh set of adventures, of which we need 
 not now take notice. 
 
 In a third variant of the story, 1 they are snakes which are 
 killed by the hero, Ivan Koshkin (Cat's son), and it is a 
 Baba Yaga, or Hag, who undertakes to revenge their deaths, 
 and those of their wives, her daughters. Accordingly she 
 pursues the three brothers, and succeeds in swallowing two 
 of them. The third, Ivan Koshkin, takes refuge in a smithy, 
 and, as before, the monster's tongue is seized, and she is 
 beaten with hammers until she disgorges her prey, none the 
 worse for their temporary imprisonment. 
 
 We have seen, in the story about the Chudo-Yudo, 
 that the place usually occupied by the Snake is at times 
 filled by some other magical being. This frequently occurs 
 
 Khudyakof, No.. 46. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 73 
 
 in that cla,ss of stories which relates how three brothers set 
 out to apprehend a trespasser, or to seek a mother or sister 
 who has been mysteriously spirited away. They usually 
 come either to an opening which leads into the underground 
 world, or to the base of an apparently inaccessible hill. 
 The youngest brother descends or ascends as the case may 
 be, and after a series of adventures which generally lead 
 him through the kingdoms of copper, of silver, and of gold, 
 returns in triumph to where his brothers are awaiting him. 
 And he is almost invariably deserted by them, as soon as 
 they have secured the beautiful princesses who accompany 
 him as may be read in the following (South-Russian) 
 history of 
 
 THE NoRKA. 1 
 
 ONCE upon a time there lived a king and queen. They had three 
 sons, two of them with their wits about them, but the third a 
 simpleton. Now the King had a deer-park in which were 
 quantities of wild animals of different kinds. Into that park there 
 used to come a huge beast Norka was its name and do fearful 
 mischief, devouring some of the animals every night. The King 
 did all he could, but he was unable to destroy it. So at last he 
 called his sons together and said : ' Whoever will destroy the 
 Norka, to him will I give the half of my kingdom.' 
 
 Well, the eldest son undertook the task. As soon as it was 
 night, he took his weapons and set out. But before he reached 
 the park, he went into a traktir (or tavern), and there he spent the 
 whole night in revelry. When he came to his senses it was too 
 late ; the day had already dawned. He felt himself disgraced in 
 the eyes of his father, but there was no help for it. The next day 
 
 1 Afanasief, vol. i. No. 6. From the Chernigof Government. The 
 Norka-Zvyer 1 (Norka-Beast) of this story is a fabulous creature, but zoologi- 
 cally the name of Norka (from nora a hole) belongs to the Otter. 
 
74 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the second son went, and did just the same. Their father scolded 
 them both soundly, and there was an end of it. 
 
 Well, on the third day the youngest son undertook the task. 
 They all laughed him to scorn, because he was so stupid, feeling 
 sure he wouldn't do anything. But he took his arms, and 
 went straight into the park, and sat down on the grass in such a 
 position that, the moment he went asleep, his weapons would 
 prick him, and he would awake. 
 
 Presently the midnight hour sounded. The earth began to 
 shake, and the Norka came rushing up, and burst right through 
 the fence into the park, so huge was it. The Prince pulled him- 
 self together, leapt to his feet, crossed himself, and went straight 
 at the beast. It fled back, and the Prince ran after it. But he 
 soon saw that he couldn't catch it on foot, so he hastened to the 
 stable, laid his hands on the best horse there, and set off in 
 pursuit. Presently he came up with the beast, and they began a 
 fight. They fought and fought ; the Prince gave the beast .three 
 wounds. At last they were both utterly exhausted, so they lay 
 down to take a short rest. But the moment the Prince closed his 
 eves, up jumped the Beast and took to flight. The Prince's horse 
 awoke him; up he jumped in a moment, and set off again in 
 pursuit, caught up the Beast, and again began fighting with it. 
 Again the Prince gave the Beast three wounds, and then he and 
 the Beast lay down again to rest. Thereupon away fled the 
 Beast as before. The Prince caught it up, and again gave it three 
 wounds. But all of a sudden, just as the Prince began chasing 
 it for the fourth time, the Beast fled to a great white stone, tilted 
 it up, and escaped into the other world, 1 crying out to the Prince : 
 ' Then only will you overcome me, when you enter here.' 
 
 The Prince went home, told his father all that had happened, 
 and asked him to have a leather rope plaited, long enough to 
 reach to the other world. His father ordered this to be done. 
 
 1 Literally ' into that world ' as opposed to this in which we live. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 75 
 
 When the rope was made, the Prince called for his brothers, and 
 he and they, having taken servants with them, and everything that 
 was needed for a whole year, set out for the place where the Beast 
 had disappeared under the stone. When they got there, they 
 built a palace on the spot, and lived in it for some time. But 
 when everything was ready, the youngest brother said to the 
 others : ' Now, brothers, who is going to lift this stone?' 
 
 Neither of them could so much as stir it, but as soon as he 
 touched it, away it flew to a distance, though it was ever so big 
 big as a hill. And when he had flung the stone aside, he spoke a 
 second time to his brothers, saying : 
 
 ' Who is going into the other world, to overcome the Norka ? ' 
 
 Neither of them offered to do so. Then he laughed at them 
 for being such cowards, and said : 
 
 * Well, brothers, farewell ! Lower me into the other world, 
 and don't go away from here, but as soon as the cord is jerked, 
 pull it up. 7 
 
 His brothers lowered him accordingly, and when he had 
 reached the other world, underneath the earth, he went on his 
 way. He walked and walked. Presently he espied a horse with 
 rich trappings, and it said to him : 
 
 1 Hail, Prince Ivan ! Long have I awaited thee ! ' 
 
 He mounted the horse and rode on rode and rode, until he 
 saw standing before him, a palace made of copper. He entered 
 the courtyard, tied up his horse, and went indoors. In one of the 
 rooms a dinner was laid out. He sat down and dined, and 
 then went into a bedroom. There he found a bed, on which 
 he lay down to rest. Presently there came in a lady, more 
 beautiful than can be imagined anywhere but in a skazka, who 
 said : 
 
 4 Thou who art in my house, name thyself ! If thou art an old 
 man, thou shalt be my father if a middle-aged man, my brother ; 
 but if a young man, thou shalt be my husband dear. And if thou 
 art a woman, and an old one, thou shalt be my grandmother j if 
 
/6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 middle-aged, my mother ; and if a girl, thou shalt be my own 
 sister/ l 
 
 Thereupon he came forth. And when she saw him, she was 
 delighted with him, and said : 
 
 ' Wherefore, O Prince Ivan my husband dear shalt thou be ! 
 wherefore hast thou come hither ? ' 
 
 Then he told her all that had happened, and she said : 
 
 4 That beast which thou wishest to overcome is my brother. 
 He is staying just now with my second sister, who lives not far 
 from here in a silver palace. I bound up three of the wounds 
 which thou didst give him/ 
 
 Well, after this they drank, and enjoyed themselves, rind held 
 sweet converse together, and then the prince took leave of her, 
 and went on to the second sister, the one who lived in the silver 
 palace, and with her also he stayed awhile. She told him that her 
 brother Norka was then at her youngest sister's. So he went on to 
 the youngest sister, who lived in a golden palace. She told him 
 that her brother was at that time asleep on the blue sea, and she 
 gave him a sword of steel and a draught of the Water of Strength, 
 and she told him to cut off her brother's head at a single stroke. 
 And when he had heard these things, he went his way. 
 
 And when the Prince came to the blue sea, he looked there 
 slept Norka on a stone in the middle of the sea ; and when it 
 snored, the water was agitated for seven versts around. The 
 Prince crossed himself, went up to it and smote it on the 
 head with his sword. The head jumped off, saying the while, 
 1 Well, I'm done for now ! ' and rolled far away into the sea. 
 
 After killing the Beast, the Prince went back again, picking up 
 all the three sisters by the way, with the intention of taking them 
 out into the upper world : for they all loved him and would not 
 be separated from him. Each of them turned her palace into an 
 egg for they were all enchantresses and they taught him how to 
 
 1 This address is a formula, of frequent occurrence under similar circum- 
 stances. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 77 
 
 turn the eggs into palaces, and back again, and they handed over 
 the eggs to him. And then they all went to the place from which 
 they had to be hoisted into the upper world. And when they 
 came to where the rope was, the Prince took hold of it and made 
 the maidens fast to it. 1 Then he jerked away at the rope, and his 
 brothers began to haul it up. And when they had hauled it up, 
 and had set eyes on the wondrous maidens, they went aside and 
 said : * Lefs lower the rope, pull our brother part of the way up, 
 and then cut the rope. Perhaps he'll be killed ; but then if he 
 isn't, he'll never give us these beauties as wives/ 
 
 ' So when they had agreed on this, they lowered the rope. 
 But their brother was no fool ; he guessed what they were at, so 
 he fastened the rope to a stone, and then gave it a pull. 
 His brothers hoisted the stone to a great height, and then cut the 
 rope. Down fell the stone and broke in pieces; the Prince 
 poured forth tears and went away. Well, he walked and walked. 
 Presently a storm arose ; the lightning flashed, the thunder roared, 
 the rain fell in torrents. He went up to a tree in order to take 
 shelter under it, and on that tree he saw some young birds which 
 were being thoroughly drenched. So he took off his coat and 
 covered them over with it, and he himself sat down under the tree. 
 Presently there came flying a bird such a big one, that the light 
 was blotted out by it. It had been dark there before, but now it 
 became darker still. Now this was the mother of those small 
 birds which the Prince had covered up. And when the bird had 
 come flying up, she perceived that her little ones were covered 
 over, and she said, * Who has wrapped up my nestlings ? ' and 
 presently, seeing the Prince, she added : 'Didst thou do that? 
 Thanks ! In return, ask of me anything thou desirest. I will do 
 anything for thee.' 
 
 * Then carry me into the other world,' he replied. 
 
 ' Make me a large zasyek * with a partition in the middle/ 
 
 1 Literally * seated the maidens and pulled the rope.' 
 
 2 Some sort of safe or bin. 
 
78 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 she said ; ' catch all sorts of game, and put them into one half of 
 it, and into the other half pour water ; so that there may be meat 
 and drink for me.' 
 
 All this the Prince did. Then the bird having taken the 
 zasyek on her back, with the Prince sitting in the middle of it 
 began to fly. And after flying some distance she brought him to 
 his journey's end, took leave of him, and flew away back. But he 
 went to the house of a certain tailor, and engaged himself as his 
 servant. So much the worse for wear was he, so thoroughly had he 
 altered in appearance, that nobody would have suspected him of 
 being a Prince. 
 
 Having entered into the service of this master, the Prince 
 began to ask what was going on in that country. And his master 
 replied : ' Our two princes for the third one has disappeared 
 have brought away brides from the other world, and want to marry 
 them, but those brides refuse. For they insist on having all their 
 wedding-clothes made for them first, exactly like those which they 
 used to have in the other world, and that without being measured 
 for them. The King has called all the workmen together, but not 
 one of them will undertake to do it.' 
 
 The Prince, having heard all this, said, l Go to the King, 
 master, and tell him that you will provide everything that's in your 
 line/ 
 
 ' However can I undertake to make clothes of that sort ? I 
 work for quite common folks,' says his master. 
 
 ' Go along, master ! I will answer for everything/ says the 
 Prince. 
 
 So the tailor went. The King was delighted that at least one 
 good workman had been found, and gave him as much money as 
 ever he wanted. When the tailor had settled everything, he 
 went home. And the Prince said to him : 
 
 ' Now then, pray to God, and lie down to sleep ; to-morrow all 
 will be ready.' And the tailor followed his lad's advice, and went 
 to bed. 
 
 Midnight sounded. The Prince arose, went out of the city 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 79 
 
 into the fields, took out of his pocket the eggs which the maidens 
 had given him, and, as they had taught him, turned them into 
 three palaces. Into each of these he entered, took the maidens' 
 robes, went out again, turned the palaces back into eggs, and 
 went home. And when he got there he hung up the robes on the 
 wall, and lay down to sleep. 
 
 Early in the morning his master awoke, and behold ! there 
 hung such robes as he had never seen before, all shining with 
 gold and silver and precious stones. He was delighted, and he 
 seized them and carried them off to the King. When the prin- 
 cesses saw that the clothes were those which had freen theirs in the 
 other world, they guessed that Prince Ivan was in this world, so 
 they exchanged glances with each other, but they held their peace. 
 And the master, having handed over the clothes, went home, but 
 he no longer found his dear journeyman there. For the Prince had 
 gone to a shoemaker's, and him too he sent to work for the King ; 
 and in the same way he went the round of all the artificers, and 
 they all proffered him thanks, inasmuch as through him they were 
 enriched by the King. 
 
 By the time the princely workman had gone the round of all 
 the artificers, the princesses had received what they had asked for ; 
 all their clothes were just like what they had been in the other 
 world. Then they wept bitterly because the Prince had not come, 
 and it was impossible for them to hold out any longer, it was 
 necessary that they should be married. But when they were 
 ready for the wedding, the youngest bride said to the King : 
 
 ' Allow me, my father, to go and give alms to the beggars.' 
 
 He gave her leave, and she went and began bestowing alms 
 upon them, and examining them closely. And when she had 
 come to one of them, and was going to give him some money, she 
 caught sight of the ring which she had given to the Prince in the 
 other world, and her sisters' rings too for it really was he. So 
 she seized him by the hand, and brought him into the hall, and 
 said to the King : 
 
 ' Here is he who brought us out of the other world. His 
 
So RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 brothers forbade us to say that he was alive, threatening to slay us 
 if we did.' 
 
 Then the King was wroth with those sons, and punished them 
 as he thought best. And afterwards three weddings were 
 celebrated. 
 
 [The conclusion of this story is somewhat obscure. Most of the variants 
 represent the Prince as forgiving his brothers, and allowing them to marry two 
 of the three princesses, but the present version appears to keep closer to its 
 original, in which the prince doubtless married all three. With this story may 
 be compared: Grimm, No. 1 66, 'Der starke Hans,' and No. 91, 'Dat 
 Erdmanneken.' See also vol. iii. p. 165, where a reference is given to the 
 Hungarian story in Gaal, No. 5 Dasent, No. 55, ' The Big Bird Dan,' and 
 No. 56, ' Soria Moria Castle ' (Asbjornsen and Moe, Nos. 3 and 2. A 
 somewhat similar story, only the palaces are in the air, occurs in Asbjornsen's 
 <Ny Samling,' No 72) Campbell's 'Tales of the West Highlands,' No. 58 
 Schleicher's 'Litauische Mahrchen,' No. 38 The Polish story, Wojcicki, 
 Book iii. No. 6, in which Norka is replaced by a witch who breaks the 
 windows of a church, and is wounded, in falcon-shape, by the youngest brother 
 Hahn, No. 70, in which a Drakos, as a cloud, steals golden apples, a story 
 closely resembling the Russian skazka. See also No. 26, very similar to 
 which is the Servian Story in ' Vuk Karajich,' No 2 and a very interesting 
 Tuscan story printed for the first time by A. de Gubernatis, ' Zoological My- 
 thology,' vol. ii. p. 187. See also ibid. p. 391. 
 
 But still more important than these are the parallels offered by Indian 
 fiction. Take, for instance, the story of Sringabhuja, in chap, xxxix. of 
 book vii. of the ' Kathasaritsagara.' In it the elder sons of a certain king wish 
 to get rid of their younger half-brother. One day a Rakshasa appears in the 
 form of a gigantic crane. The other princes shoot at it in vain, but the 
 youngest wounds it, and then sets off in pursuit of it, and of the valuable arrow 
 which is fixed in it. After long wandering he comes to a castle in a forest. 
 There he finds a maiden who tells him she is the daughter of the Rakshasa 
 whom, in the form of a crane, he has wounded. She at once takes his part 
 against her demon father, and eventually flies with him to his own country. 
 The perils which the fugitives have to encounter will be mentioned in the 
 remarks on Skazka XIX. See Professor Brockhaus's summary of the story 
 in the ' Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K. Sachs. Gesellschaft der Wissen- 
 schaften,' 1861, pp. 223-6. Also Professor Wilson's version in his ' Essays on 
 Sanskrit Literature,' vol. ii. pp. 134-5. 
 
 In two other stories in the same collection the hero gives chase to a boar of 
 gigantic size. It takes refuge in a cavern into which he follows it. Presently 
 he finds himself in a different world, wherein he meets a beauteous maiden who 
 explains everything to him. In the first of these two stories the lady is the 
 daughter of a Rakshasa, who is invulnerable except in the palm of the left 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 81 
 
 hand, for which reason our hero, Chandasena, has been unable to wound him 
 when in his boar disguise. She instructs Chandasena how to kill her father, 
 who accordingly falls a victim to a well-aimed shaft. (Brockhaus's ' Mahrchen- 
 sammlung des Somadeva Bhatta,' 1843, v l- * PP- * 16-13). I n the other 
 story, the lady turns out to be a princess' whom ' a demon with faery eyes ' had 
 carried off and imprisoned. She tells the hero, Saktideva, that the demon 
 has just died from a wound inflicted upon him, while transformed into a boar, 
 by a bold archer. Saktideva informs her that he is that archer. Whereupon 
 she immediately requests him to marry her (ibid. vol. ii. p. 175). In both 
 stories the boar is described as committing great ravages in the upper world 
 until the hero attacks it. 
 
 The adventures of a prince, the youngest of three 
 brothers, who has been lowered into the underground world, 
 or who has ascended into an enchanted upper realm, form 
 the theme of numerous skazkas, several of which are 
 variants of the story of Norka.. The prince's elder 
 brothers almost always attempt to kill him, when he is 
 about to ascend from the gulph or descend from the steeps 
 which separate him from them. In one instance, the fol- 
 lowing excuse is offered for their conduct. The hero has 
 killed a Snake in the underground world, and is carrying 
 its head on a lance, when his brothers begin to hoist him 
 up. ' His brothers were frightened at the sight of that head, 
 and thinking the Snake itself was coming, they let Ivan 
 fall back into the pit.' 1 But this apology for their behaviour 
 seems to be due to the story-teller's imagination. In some 
 instances their unfraternal conduct may be explained in 
 the following manner. In oriental tales the hero is often 
 the son of a king's youngest wife, and he is not unnaturally 
 hated by his half-brothers, the sons of an older queen, 
 whom the hero's mother has supplanted in their royal 
 father's affections. Accordingly they do their best to get 
 rid of him. Thus, in one of the Indian stories which 
 
 1 Khud.yakof, ii. p. 17. 
 G 
 
82 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 correspond to that of Norka, the hero's success at court 
 * excited the envy and jealousy of his brothers [doubtless 
 half-brothers], and they were not satisfied until they had 
 devised a plan to effect his removal, and, as they hoped, 
 accomplish his destruction.' * We know also that ' Israel 
 loved Joseph more than all his children,' because he was 
 the son * of his old age/ and the result was that ' when his 
 brethren [who were only his half-brothers] saw that their 
 father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated 
 him.' 2 When such tales as these came west in Christian 
 times, their references to polygamy were constantly sup- 
 pressed, and their distinctions between brothers and half- 
 brothers disappeared. In the same way the elder a,nd 
 jealous wife, who had behaved with cruelty in the original 
 stories to the offspring of her rival, often became turned, 
 under Christian influences, into a stepmother who hated 
 her husband's children by a previous marriage. 
 
 There may, however, be a mythological explanation of 
 the behaviour of the two elder brothers. Professor de Guber- 
 natis is of opinion that ' in the Vedic hymns, Tritas, the 
 third brother, and the ablest as well as best, is persecuted 
 by his brothers,' who, ' in a fit of jealousy, on account of 
 his wife, the aurora, and the riches she brings with her from 
 the realm of darkness, the cistern or well [into which he 
 has been lowered], detain their brother in the well,' 3 and he 
 compares this form of the myth with that which it assumes 
 in the following Hindoo tradition. 'Three brothers, 
 Ekata (i.e. the first), Dwita (i.e. the second) and 
 Trita (i.e. the third) were travelling in a desert, and 
 being distressed with thirst, came to a well, from 
 
 1 Kathasaritsagara,' bk. vii. c. xxxix. Wilson's translation. 
 
 2 Genesis, xxxvii. 3, 4 3 Zoological Mythology ' i. 25. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 83 
 
 which the youngest, Trita, drew water and gave it to his 
 brothers ; in requital, they threw him into the well, in order 
 to appropriate his property, and having covered the top. 
 with a cart-wheel, left him in the well. In this extremity 
 he prayed to the gods to extricate him, and by their favour 
 he made his escape.' 1 This myth may, perhaps, be the 
 germ from which have sprung the numerous folk-tales about 
 the desertion of a younger brother in some pit or chasm, 
 into which his brothers have lowered him. 2 
 
 It may seem more difficult to account for the willingness 
 of Norka's three sisters to aid in his destruction unless, 
 indeed, the whole story be considered to be mythological, 
 as its Indian equivalents undoubtedly are. But in many 
 versions of the same tale the difficulty does not arise. 
 The princesses of the copper, silver, and golden realms, 
 are usually represented as united by no ties of consanguinity 
 with the snake or other monster whom the hero comes to 
 kill. In the story of ' Usuinya,' 3 for instance, there appears 
 to be no relationship between these fair maidens and the 
 4 Usuinya Bird,' which steals the golden apples from a 
 monarch's garden and is killed by his youngest son Ivam r 
 That monster is not so much a bird as a flying dragon. 
 ' This Usuinya-bird is a twelve-headed snake/ says one of 
 the fair maidens. And presently it arrives its wings 
 stretching afar, while along the ground trail its moustaches 
 \itsui, whence its name]. In a variant of the same story in 
 another collection, 4 the part of Norka is played by a white 
 
 1 'Quoted from the ' Nitimanjari,' by Wilson, in his translation of the 
 " Rig- Veda- Sanhita," vol. i. p. 142. 
 
 2 See also Julg's ' Kalmiikische Marchen,' p. 19, where Massang, the 
 Calmuck Minotaur, is abandoned in the pit by his companions. 
 
 3 Khudyakof, No. 42. 
 
 * Erlenvein, No. 41. A king's horses disappear. His youngest son keeps 
 
 G 2 
 
84 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 wolf. In that of Ivan Suchenko 1 it is divided among three 
 snakes who have stolen as many princesses. For the snake 
 is much given to abduction, especially when he appears 
 under the terrible form of * Koshchei, the Deathless.' 
 
 Koshchei is merely one of the many incarnations of 
 the dark spirit which takes so many monstrous shapes in 
 the folk-tales of the class with which we are now dealing. 
 Sometimes he is described as altogether serpent-like in 
 form ; sometimes he seems to be of a mixed nature, partly 
 human and partly ophidian, but in some of the stories he 
 is apparently framed after the fashion of a man. His name 
 is by some mythologists derived from kost\ a bone, whence 
 comes a verb signifying to become ossified, petrified, or 
 frozen ; either because he is bony of limb, or because he 
 produces an effect akin to freezing or petrifaction. 2 
 
 He is called ' Immortal ' or ' The Deathless,' 3 because 
 of his superiority to the ordinary laws of existence. Some- 
 times, like Baldur, he cannot be killed except by one sub- 
 stance ; sometimes his ' death ' that is, the object with 
 
 watch, and discovers that the thief is a white wolf. It escapes into a hole. 
 He kills his horse, at its own request, and makes from its hide a rope by which 
 he is lowered into the hole, etc. 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. 54. 
 
 2 The word koshchei, says Afanasief, may fairly be derived from kost\ a bone, 
 for changes between st and shch are not uncommon as in the cases of 
 pustoi, waste, pushcha, a wild wood, or of gustoi, thick, gushcha> sediment, 
 etc. The verb okostenyef, to grow numb, describes the state into which a 
 skazka represents the realm of the ' Sleeping Beauty,' as being thrown by 
 Koshchei. Buslaef remarks in his 'Influence of Christianity on Slavonic 
 Language,' p. 103, that one of the Gothic words used by Ulfilas to express the 
 Greek Sai/ji6viov is skohsl, which ' is purely Slavonic, being preserved in the 
 Czekh kauzloy sorcery; in the Lower-Lusatian-Wendish, kostlar means a 
 sorcerer. (But see Grimm's ' Deutsche Mythologie, ' pp. 454-5, where skohsl 
 is supposed to mean a forest-sprite, also p. 954.) Kosf changes into koshch, 
 whence our Koshchei.' There is also a provincial word, kostit\ meaning to 
 revile or scold. 
 
 ' Bezsmertny (bez = without, smerf = death). 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 85 
 
 which his life is indissolubly connected does not exist with- 
 in his body. Like the vital centre of ' the giant who had 
 no heart in his body ' in the well-known Norse tale, it is 
 something extraneous to the being whom it affects, and 
 until it is destroyed he may set all ordinary means of 
 annihilation at defiance. But this is not always the case, 
 as may be learnt from one of the best of the skazkas in 
 which he plays a leading part, the history of 
 
 MARYA-MOREVNA. l 
 
 IN a certain kingdom there lived a Prince Ivan. He had three 
 sisters. The first was the Princess Marya, the second the Prin- 
 cess Olga, the third the Princess Anna. When their father and 
 mother lay at the point of death, they had thus enjoined their 
 son : ' Give your sisters in marriage to the very first suitors, who 
 come to woo them. Don't go keeping them by you f ' 
 
 They died and the Prince buried them, and then, to solace 
 his grief, he went with his sisters into the garden green to stroll. 
 Suddenly the sky was covered by a black cloud ; a terrible storm 
 arose. 
 
 ' Let us go home, sisters ! ' he cried. 
 
 Hardly had they got into the palace, when the thunder 
 pealed, the ceiling split open, and into the room where they were 
 came flying a falcon bright. The Falcon smote upon the ground, 
 became a brave youth, and said : 
 
 * Hail, Prince Ivan ! Before I came as a guest, but now I 
 have come as a wooer ! I wish to propose for your sister, the- 
 Princess Marya.' 
 
 * If you find favour in the eyes of my sister, I will not inter- 
 fere with her wishes. Let her marry you in God's name ! ' 
 
 The Princess Marya gave her consent ; the Falcon married 
 her and bore her away into his own realm. 
 
 1 Afanasief, viii. No. 8. Morevna means daughter of More, (the Sea or any 
 great water). 
 
86 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Days follow days, hours chase hours ; a whole year goes by. 
 One day Prince Ivan and his two sisters went out to stroll in the 
 garden green. Again there arose a stormcloud with whirlwind 
 and lightning. 
 
 ' Let us go home, sisters ! ' cries the Prince. Scarcely had they 
 entered the palace, when the thunder crashed, the roof burst into 
 a blaze, the ceiling split in twain, and in flew an eagle. The 
 Eagle smote upon the ground and became a brave youth. 
 
 ' Hail, Prince Ivan ! Before I came as a guest, but now I 
 have come as a wooer ! ' 
 
 And he asked for the hand of the Princess Olga. Prince 
 Ivan replied : 
 
 ' If you find favour in the eyes of the Princess Olga, then let 
 her marry you. I will not interfere with her liberty of choice.' 
 
 The Princess Olga gave her consent and married the Eagle. 
 The Eagle took her and carried her off to his own kingdom. 
 
 Another year went by. Prince Ivan said to his youngest 
 sister : 
 
 ' Let us go out and stroll in the garden green ! ' 
 
 They strolled about for a time. Again there arose a storm- 
 cloud, with whirlwind and lightning. 
 
 ' Let us return home, sister ! ' said he. 
 
 They returned hom, but they hadn't had time to sit down 
 when the thunder l crashed, the ceiling split open, and in flew a 
 raven. The Raven smote upon the floor and became a brave 
 youth. The former youths had been handsome, but this one 
 was handsomer still. 
 
 ' Well, Prince Ivan ! Before I came as a guest, but now I 
 have come as a wooer. Give me the Princess Anna to wife.' 
 
 * I won't interfere with my sister's freedom. If you gain her 
 affections, let her marry you.' 
 
 1 Grom. It is the thunder, rather than the lightning, which the Russian 
 peasants look upon as the destructive agent in a storm. They let the flash 
 pass unheeded, but they take the precaution of crossing themselves when the 
 roar follows. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 87 
 
 So the Princess Anna married the Raven, and he bore her 
 away into his own realm. Prince Ivan was left alone. A whole 
 year he lived without his sisters ; then he grew weary, and said : 
 
 ' I will set out in search of my sisters.' 
 
 He got ready for the journey, he rode and rode, and one day 
 he saw a whole army lying dead on the plain. He cried aloud, 
 ' If there be a living man there, let him make answer ! who has 
 slain this mighty host ? ' 
 
 There replied unto him a living man : 
 
 * All this mighty host has been slain by the fair Princess 
 Marya Morevna.' 
 
 Prince Ivan rode further on, and came to a white tent, and 
 forth came to meet him the fair Princess Marya Morevna. 
 
 4 Hail, Prince ! ' says she, ' whither does God send you ? and is 
 it of your free will or against your will ? ' 
 
 Prince Ivan replied, ' Not against their will do brave youths 
 ride ! ' 
 
 'Well, if your business be not pressing, tarry awhile in my 
 tent.' 
 
 Thereat was Prince Ivan glad. He spent two nights in the 
 tent, and he found favour in the eyes of Marya Morevna, and 
 she married him. The fair Princess, Marya Morevna, carried 
 him off into her own realm. 
 
 They spent some time together, and then the Princess took 
 it into her head to go a warring. So she handed over all the 
 housekeeping affairs to Prince Ivan, and gave him these instruc- 
 tions : 
 
 'Go about everywhere, keep watch over everything; only 
 do not venture to look into that closet there.' 
 
 He couldn't help doing so. The moment Marya Morevna 
 had gone he rushed to the closet, pulled open the door, and 
 looked in there hung Koshchei the Deathless, fettered by 
 twelve chains. Then Koshchei entreated Prince Ivan, saying, 
 
 ' Have pity upon me and give me to drink ! Ten years long 
 
88 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 have I been 'here in torment, neither eating nor drinking ; my 
 throat is utterly dried up. 
 
 The Prince gave him a bucketful of water ; he drank it up 
 and asked for more, saying : 
 
 ' A single bucket of water will not quench my thirst ; give me 
 more ! ' 
 
 The Prince gave him a second bucketful. Koshchei drank 
 it up and asked for a third, and when he had swallowed the 
 third bucketful, he regained his former strength, gave his chains 
 a shake, and broke all twelve at once. 
 
 * Thanks, Prince Ivan ! ' cried Koshchei the Deathless, ' now 
 you will sooner see your own ears than Marya Morevna ! ' and out 
 of the window he flew in the shape of a terrible whirlwind. And 
 he came up with the fair Princess Marya Morevna as she was 
 going her way, laid hold of her, and carried her off home with 
 him. But Prince Ivan wept full sore, and he arrayed himself 
 and set out a wandering, saying to himself : { Whatever happens, 
 I will go and look for Marya Morevna ! ' 
 
 One day passed, another day passed : at the dawn of the third 
 day he saw a wondrous palace, and by the side of the palace stood 
 an oak, and on the oak sat a falcon bright.. Down flew the 
 Falcon from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a 
 brave youth, and cried aloud : 
 
 'Ha, dear brother-in-law ! how deals the Lord with you?' 
 Out came running the Princess Marya, joyfully greeted her 
 brother Ivan, and began enquiring after his health, and telling him 
 all about herself. The Prince spent three days with them ; then 
 he said : 
 
 ' I cannot abide with you ; I must go in search of my wife, the 
 fair Princess Marya Morevna.' 
 
 * Hard will it be for you to find her,' answered the Falcon. * At 
 all events leave with us your silver spoon. We will look at it and 
 remember you.' So Prince Ivan left his silver spoon at the 
 Falcon's, and went on his way again. 
 
 On he went one day, on he went another day, and by the dawn 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 89 
 
 of the third day he saw a palace still grander than the former one, 
 and hard by the palace stood an oak, and on the oak sat an eagle. 
 Down . flew the Eagle from the oak, smote upon the ground, 
 turned into a brave youth, and cried aloud : 
 'Rise up, Princess Olga ! Hither comes our brother dear !' 
 The Princess Olga immediately ran to meet him, and began 
 kissing him and embracing him, asking after his health and telling 
 him all about herself. With them Prince Ivan stopped three days ; 
 then he said : 
 
 1 1 cannot stay here any longer. I am going to look for my 
 wife, the fair Princess Marya Morevna.' 
 
 * Hard will it be for you to find her,' replied the Eagle. ' Leave 
 with us a silverjprk. We will look at it and remember you.' 
 
 He left a silver fork behind, and went his way. He travelled 
 one day, he travelled two days ; at daybreak on the third day he 
 saw a palace grander than the first two, and near the palace stood 
 an oak, and on the oak sat a raven. Down flew the Raven from 
 the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a brave 'youth, and 
 cried aloud : 
 
 ' Princess Anna, come forth quickly ! our brother is coming.' 
 Out ran the Princess Anna, greeted him joyfully, and began 
 kissing and embracing him, asking after his health and telling 
 him all about herself. Prince Ivan stayed with them three days ; 
 then he said : 
 
 * Farewell ! I am going to look for my wife, the fair Princess 
 Marya Morevna.' 
 
 1 Hard will it be for you to find her,' replied the Raven. ' Any- 
 how, leave your silver snuff-box with us. We will look at it and 
 remember you.' 
 
 The Prince handed over his silver snuff-box, took his leave and 
 went his way. One day he went, another day he went, and on 
 the third day he came to where Marya Morevna was. She caught 
 sight of her love, flung her arms around his neck, burst into tears, 
 and exclaimed : 
 
90 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Oh, Prince Ivan ! why did you disobey me, and go looking 
 into the closet and letting out Koschei the Deathless?' 
 
 1 Forgive me, Marya Morevna ! Remember not the past ; much 
 better fly with me while Koshchei the Deathless is out of sight. 
 Perhaps he won't catch us.' 
 
 So they got ready and fled. Now Koshchei was out hunting. 
 Towards evening he was returning home, when his good steed 
 stumbled beneath him. 
 
 ' Why^stumblest thou, sorry jade? scentest thou some ill?' 
 
 The steed replied : 
 
 1 Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.' 
 
 ' Is it possible to catch them ?' 
 
 ' It is possible to sow wheat, to wait till it grows up, to reap it 
 and thresh it, to grind it to flour, to make five pies of it, to eat 
 those pies, and then to start in pursuit and even then to be in 
 time.' 
 
 Koshchei galloped off and caught up Prince Ivan. 
 
 ' Now,' says he, ' this time I will forgive you, in return for your 
 kindness in giving me water to drink. And a second time I will 
 forgive you ; but the third time beware ! I will cut you to bits.' 
 
 Then he took Marya Morevna from him., and carried her off. 
 But Prince Ivan sat down on a stone and burst into tears. He 
 wept and wept and then returned back again to Marya Mo- 
 revna. Now Koshchei the Deathless happened not to be at home. 
 
 ' Let us fly, Marya Morevna ! ' 
 
 * Ah, Prince Ivan ! he will catch us.' 
 
 ' Suppose he does catch us. At all events we shall have spent 
 an hour or two together.' 
 
 . So they got ready and fled. As Koshchei the Deathless was 
 returning home, his good steed stumbled beneath him. 
 
 ' Why stumblest thou, sorry jade ? Scentest thou some ill ?' 
 
 ' Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.' 
 
 1 Is it possible to catch them?' 
 
 ' It is possible to sow barley, to wait till it grows up, to reap it 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 91 
 
 and thresh it, to brew beer, to drink ourselves drunk on it, to sleep 
 our fill, and then to set off in pursuit and yet to be in time.' 
 Koshchei galloped off, caught up Prince Ivan : 
 
 ' Didn't I tell you that you should not see Marya Morevna 
 any more than your own ears ? ' 
 
 And he took her away and carried her off home with him. 
 
 Prince Ivan was left there alone. He wept and wept ; then 
 he went back again after Marya Morevna. Koshchei happened to 
 be away from home at that moment. 
 
 ' Let us fly, Marya Morevna.' 
 
 ' Ah, Prince Ivan ! He is sure to catch us and hew you in 
 pieces.' 
 
 ' Let him hew away ! I cannot live without you.' 
 
 So they got ready and fled. 
 
 Koshchei the Deathless was returning home when his good 
 steed stumbled beneath him. 
 
 ' Why stumblest thou ? scentest thbu any ill ? ' 
 
 * Prince Ivan has come and has earned off Marya Morevna.' 
 
 Koshchei galloped off, caught Prince Ivan, chopped him into 
 little pieces, put them in a barrel, smeared it with pitch and 
 bound it with iron hoops, and flung it into the blue sea. But 
 Marya Morevna he carried off home. 
 
 At that very time, the silver turned black which Prince Ivan 
 had left with his brothers-in-law. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' said they, ' the evil is accomplished sure enough ! ' 
 
 Then the Eagle hurried to the blue sea, caught hold of the 
 barrel, and dragged it ashore ; the Falcon flew away for the Water 
 of Life, and the Raven for the Water of Death. 
 
 Afterwards they all three met, broke open the barrel, took out 
 the remains of Prince Ivan, washed them, and put them together 
 in fitting order. The Raven sprinkled them with the Water of 
 Death the pieces joined together, the body became whole. 
 The Falcon sprinkled it with the Water of Life Prince Ivan 
 shuddered, stood up, and said : 
 
 ' Ah ! what a time I've been sleeping ! ' 
 
92 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 6 You'd have gone on sleeping a good deal longer, if it hadn't 
 been for us,' replied his brothers-in-law. * Now come and pay us 
 a visit.' 
 
 ' Not so, brothers ; I shall go and look for Marya Morevna.' 
 
 And when he had found her, he said to her : 
 
 ' Find out from Koshchei the Deathless whence he got so good 
 a steed.' 
 
 So Marya Morevna chose a favourable moment, and began 
 asking Koshchei about it. Koshchei replied : 
 
 'Beyond thrice nine lands, in the thirtieth kingdom, on the 
 other side of the fiery river, there lives a Baba Yaga. She has so 
 good a mare that she flies right round the world on it every day. 
 And she has many other splendid mares. I watched her herds 
 for three days without losing a single mare, and in return for -that 
 the Baba Yaga gave me a foal.' 
 
 ' But how did you get across the fiery river ? ' 
 
 c Why, I've a handkerchief of this kind when I wave it thrice 
 on the right hand, there springs up a very lofty bridge / and the 
 fire cannot reach it.' 
 
 Marya Morevna listened to all this, and repeated it to Prince 
 Ivan, and she carried off the handkerchief and gave it to him. So 
 he managed to get across the fiery river, and then went on to the 
 Baba Yaga's. Long went he on without getting anything either to 
 eat or to drink. At last he came across an outlandish 1 bird and 
 its young ones. Says Prince Ivan : 
 
 ' I'll eat one of these chickens.' 
 
 * Don't eat it, Prince Ivan ! ' begs the outlandish bird ; ' some 
 time or other I'll do you a good turn.' 
 
 He went on farther and saw a hive of bees in the forest. 
 
 ' I'll get a bit of honeycomb,' says he. 
 
 ' Don't disturb my honey, Prince Ivan ! ' exclaims the queen- 
 bee ; ' some time or other I'll do you a good turn.' 
 
 So he didn't disturb it, but went on. Presently there met him 
 a lioness with her cub. 
 
 1 Zamorskaya, from the other side of the water, strange, splendid. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 93 
 
 ' Anyhow I'll eat this lion cub,' says he ; ' I'm so hungry, I feel 
 quite unwell ! ' 
 
 * Please let us alone, Prince Ivan ! ' begs the lioness ; ' some 
 time or other I'll do you a good turn.' 
 
 * Very well ; have it your own way,' says he. 
 
 Hungry and faint he wandered on, walked farther and farther, 
 and at last came to where stood the house of the Baba Yaga. 
 Round the house were set twelve poles in a circle, and on each of 
 eleven of these poles was stuck a human head, the twelfth alone 
 remained unoccupied. 
 
 * Hail, granny ! ' 
 
 * Hail, Prince Ivan ! wherefore have you come ? Is it of your 
 own accord, or on compulsion ? ' 
 
 ' I have come to earn from you a 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 
 a 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 bid 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.' 
 
94 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' 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 ? ' 
 
 c How could we help coming back ? Beasts of prey came 
 running at us from all parts of the world, 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, f 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 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 95 
 
 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 slinging 
 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 : 
 
 1 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. 
 
96 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' What art thou stumbling for, sorry jade ? dost thou scent any 
 ill? 3 
 
 * 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 Death- 
 less 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. 
 WelJ, 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. 1 
 
 1 In Afanasief, iv. No. 39, a father marries his three daughters to the 
 Sun, the Moon, and the Raven. In Hahn, No. 25, a younger brother gives 
 his sisters in marriage to a Lion, a Tiger, and an Eagle, after his elder brothers 
 have refused to do so. By their aid' he recovers his lost bride. In Schott, 
 No. I and Vuk Karajich, No. 5, the three sisters are carried off by Dragons, 
 which their subsequently-born brother kills. (See also Basile, No. 33, referred 
 to by Hahn, and Valjavec, p. I, Stier, No 13, and Bo2ena Nemcova, pp. 
 414-432, and a German story in Musoeus, all referred to by Afanasief, viii. 
 p. 662.) 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 97 
 
 With the Baba Yaga, the feminine counterpart of Kosh- 
 chei and the Snake, we shall deal presently, and the Waters 
 of Life and Death will find special notice elsewhere. 1 A 
 magic water, which brings back the dead to life, plays a 
 prominent part in the folk-lore of all lands, but the two 
 waters, each performing one part only of the cure, render 
 very noteworthy the Slavonic stories in which they occur. 
 The Princess Mary a Morevna, who slaughters, whole armies 
 before she is married, and then becomes mild and gentle, 
 belongs to a class of heroines who frequently occur both in 
 the stories and in the ' metrical romances,' and to whom 
 may be applied the remarks made by Kemble with re- 
 ference to a similar Amazon. 2 In one of the variants of the 
 story the representative of Marya Morevna fights the hero 
 before she marries him. 3 The Bluebeard incident of the 
 forbidden closet is one which often occurs in the Skazkas, as 
 we shall see further on ; and the same may be said about 
 the gratitude of the Bird, Bee, and Lioness. 
 
 The story of Immortal Koshchei is one of very 
 frequent occurrence, the different versions maintaining a 
 unity of idea, but varying considerably in detail. In one of 
 them, 4 in which Koshchei's part is played by a Snake, the 
 hero's sisters are carried of by their feathered admirers 
 without his leave being asked an omission for which a 
 full apology is afterwards made ; in another, the history of 
 
 1 See Chap. IV. 
 
 2 ' Being by the advice of her father HaereiS given in marriage to Offa, she 
 left off her violent practices ; and accordingly she appears in Hygelac's court, 
 exercising the peaceful duties of a princess. Now this whole representation 
 can hardly be other than the modern, altered, and Christian one of a Wselcyrie 
 or Swan-Maiden ; and almost in the same words the Nibelungen Lied relates 
 of Brynhild, the flashing shield-may of the Edda, that with her virginity she 
 lost her mighty strength and warlike habits.' Kemble's Beowulf, p. xxxv. 
 
 3 Khudyakof, ii. p. 90. 4 Khudyakof, No. 20. 
 
 H 
 
98 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Fedor Tugarin and Anastasia the Fair/ l the hero's three 
 sisters are wooed and won, not by the Falcon, the Eagle, and 
 the Raven, but by the Wind, the Hail, and the Thunder. He 
 himself marries the terrible heroine Anastasia the Fair, in 
 the forbidden chamber of whose palace he finds a snake 
 1 hung up by one of its ribs.' He gives it a lift and it gets 
 free from its hook and flies away, carrying off Anastasia 
 the Fair. Fedor eventually finds her, escapes with her 
 on a magic foal which he obtains, thanks to the aid of 
 grateful wolves, bees, and crayfish, and destroys the snake 
 by striking it ' on the forehead ' with the stone which was 
 destined to be its death. In a third version of the story, 2 
 the hero finds in the forbidden chamber ' Koshchei the 
 Deathless, in a cauldron amid flames, boiling in pitch.' 
 There he has been, he declares, for fifteen years, having 
 been lured there by the beauty of Anastasia the Fair. In 
 a fourth, 3 in which the hero's three sisters marry three 
 beggars, who turn out to be snakes with twenty, thirty, and 
 forty heads 'apiece, Koshchei is found in the forbidden 
 chamber, seated on a horse which is chained to a cauldron. 
 He begs the hero to unloose the horse, promising, in return, 
 to save him from three deaths. 
 
 [Into the mystery of the forbidden chamber I will not enter fully at present. 
 Suffice to say that there can be little doubt as to its being the same as that 
 in which Bluebeard kept the corpses of his dead wives. In the Russian, as 
 well as in the Oriental stories, it is generally the curiosity of a man, not of a 
 woman, which leads to the opening of the prohibited room. In the West of 
 Europe the fatal inquisitiveness is more frequently ascribed to a woman. For 
 parallels see the German stories of 'Marienkind,' and 'Pitchers Vogel.' 
 (Grimm, KM., Nos. 3 and 46, also the notes in Bd. iii. pp. 8, 76, 324). 
 Less familiar than these is, probably, the story of 'Die eisernen Stiefel,' 
 (Wolf's ' Deutsche Hausmarchen,' 1851, No. 19), in which the hero opens a 
 forbidden door that of a summer-house and sees ' deep down below him the 
 
 1 Afanasief, i. No. 14. * Khudyakof, No. 62. 
 
 1 Erlenvein, No. 31. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 99 
 
 earth, and on the earth his father's palace,' and is seized by a sudden longing 
 after his former home. The Wallachian story of ' The Immured Mother ' 
 (Schott, No. 2) resembles Grimm's ' Marienkind ' in many points. But its 
 forbidden chamber differs from that of the German tale. In the latter the 
 rash intruder sees ' die Dreieinigkeit im Feuer und Glanz sitzen ; ' in the 
 former, ' the Holy Mother of God healing the wounds of her Son, the Lord 
 Christ.' In the Neapolitan story of * Le tre Conine ' (Pentamerone, No. 36), 
 the forbidden chamber contains ' three maidens, clothed all in gold, sitting and 
 seeming to slumber upon as many thrones ' (Liebrecht's translation, ii. 76). 
 The Esthonian tale of the 'Wife-murderer' (Lowe's 'Ehstnische Marchen,' 
 No. 20) is remarkably not to say suspiciously like that French story of 
 Blue Beard which has so often made our young blood run cold. Sister Anne 
 is represented, and so are the rescuing brothers, the latter in .the person of 
 the heroine's old friend and playmate, Tonnis the goose-herd. Several very 
 curious Gaelic versions of the story are given by Mr. Campbell ('Tales of the 
 West Highlands,' No. 41, ii. 265-275. Two of the three daughters of a poor 
 widow look into a forbidden chamber, find it ' full of dead gentlewomen,' get 
 stained knee-deep in blcod, and refuse to give a drop of milk to a cat which 
 offers its services. So their heads are chopped off. The third daughter makes 
 friends with the cat, which licks off the tell-tale blood, so she escapes detection. 
 In a Greek story (Hahn, ii. p. 197) the hero discovers in the one and- 
 fortieth room of a castle belonging to a Drakos, who had given him leave to 
 enter forty only, a magic horse, and before the door of the room he finds a 
 pool of gold in which he becomes gilded. In another (Hahn, No.. 15) a prince 
 finds in the forbidden fortieth chamber a lake in which fairies of the swan-maiden 
 species are bathing. In a third (No. 45) the fortieth room contains a golden 
 horse and a golden dog which assist their bold releaser.. In a fourth (No. 68) 
 it imprisons ' a fair maiden, shining like the sun,' whom the demon proprietor 
 of the castle has hung up within it by her hair. 
 
 As usual, all these stories are hard to understand. But one of the most 
 important of their Oriental equivalents is perfectly intelligible. When 
 Saktideva, in the fifth book of the ' Kathasaritsagara, ' comes after long travel to 
 the Golden City, and is welcomed as her destined husband by its princess, she 
 warns him not to ascend the central terrace of her palace. Of course he does so, 
 and finds three chambers, in each of which lies the lifeless form of a fair maiden. 
 After gazing at these seeming corpses, in one of which he recognises his first 
 love, he approaches a horse which is grazing beside a lake. The horse kicks 
 him into the water ; he sinks deep and conies up again in his native land. 
 The whole of the story is, towards its termination, fully explained by one of its 
 principal characters one of the four maidens whom Saktideva simultaneously 
 marries. With the version of this romance in the * Arabian Nights,' ('History 
 of the Third Royal Mendicant,' Lane, i. 160-173) everyone is doubtless ac- 
 quainted. A less familiar story is that of Kandarpaketu, in the second book of the 
 ' Hitopadesa,' who lives happily for a time as the husband of the beautiful 
 semi-divine queen of the Golden City. At last, contrary to her express 
 commands, he ventures to touch a picture of a Vidyadhari. In an instant the 
 
 H 2 
 
ioo RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 pictured demigoddess gives him a kick which sends him flying back into his 
 own country. 
 
 For an explanation of the myth which lies at the root of all these stories, 
 see Cox's Mythology of the Aryan Nations,' ii. 36, 330. See also Professor 
 de Gubernatis's 'Zoological Mythology,' i. 168.] 
 
 We will now take one of those versions of the story 
 which describe how Koshchei's death is brought about by 
 the destruction of that extraneous object on which his 
 existence depends. The incident is one which occupies a 
 prominent place in the stones of this class current in all 
 parts of Europe and Asia, and its result is almost always 
 the same. But the means by which that result is brought 
 about differ considerably in different lands. In the 
 Russian tales the ' death ' of the Evil Being with whom the 
 hero contends the substance, namely, the destruction of 
 which involves his death is usually the last of a sequence 
 of objects either identical with, or closely resembling, those 
 mentioned in the following story of 
 
 KOSHCHEI THE DEATHLESS. 1 
 
 IN a certain country there once lived a king, and he had three 
 sons, all of them grown up. All of a sudden Koshchei the 
 Deathless carried off their mother. Then the eldest son 
 craved his father's blessing, that he might go and look for his 
 mother. His father gave him his blessing, and he went off 
 and disappeared, leaving no trace behind. The second son 
 waited and waited, then he too obtained his father's blessing and 
 he also disappeared. Then the youngest son, Prince Ivan, said 
 to his father : ' Father, give me your blessing, and let me go and 
 look for my mother.' 
 
 But his father would not let him go, saying, ' Your brothers are 
 no more ; if you likewise go away, I shall die of grief.' t 
 
 1 Afanasief, ii. No. 24. From the Perm Government. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 101 
 
 ' * Not so, father. But if you bless me I shall go ; and if you do 
 not bless me I shall go.' 
 
 So his father gave him his blessing. 
 
 Prince Ivan went to choose a steed, but every one that he laid 
 his hand upon gave way under it. He could not find a steed to 
 suit him, so he wandered with drooping brow along the road and 
 about the town. Suddenly there appeared an old woman, who 
 asked : 
 
 ' Why hangs your brow so low, Prince Ivan ?' 
 
 '* Be off, old crone,' he replied. * If I put you on one of my ^ 
 hands, and give it a slap with the other, there'll be a little wet left, 
 that's all.' 1 
 
 The old woman ran down a by-street, came to meet him a 
 second time, and said : 
 
 ' Good day, Prince Ivan ! why hangs your brow so low ? ' 
 
 Then he thought: 
 
 ' Why does this old woman ask me ? Mightn't she be of use 
 to me?' and he replied : 
 
 * Well, mother ! Because I cannot get myself a good steed.' 
 
 'Silly fellow !' she cried, 'to suffer, and not to ask the old 
 woman's help ! Come along with me.' 
 
 She took him to a hill, showed him a certain spot, and said : 
 
 ' Dig up that piece of ground.' 
 
 Prince Ivan dug it up and saw an iron plate with twelve pad- 
 locks on it. He immediately broke off the padlocks, tore open a 
 door, and followed a path leading underground. There, fastenecj. 
 with twelve chains, stood a heroic steed which evidently heard 
 the approaching steps of a rider worthy to mount it, and so began 
 to neigh and to struggle, until it broke all twelve of its chains. 
 Then Prince Ivan put on armour fit for a hero, and bridled the 
 horse, and saddled it with a Circassian saddle. And he gave the 
 old woman money, and said to her: 
 
 1 A conventional expression of contempt which frequently occurs in the 
 Skazkas. 
 
102 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Forgive me, mother, and bless me !' then he mounted his 
 steed and rode away. 
 
 Long time did he ride ; at last he came to a mountain 
 a tremendously high mountain, and so steep that it was utterly 
 impossible to get up it. Presently his brothers came that way. 
 They all greeted each other, and rode on together, till they came 
 to an iron rock * a hundred and fifty poods in weight, and on it 
 was this inscription, ' Whosoever will fling this rock against the 
 mountain, to him will a way be opened/ The two elder brothers 
 were unable to lift the rock, but Prince Ivan at the first try flung 
 it against the mountain and immediately there appeared a ladder 
 leading up the mountain side. 
 
 Prince Ivan dismounted, let some drops of blood run from his 
 little finger into a glass, gave it to his brothers, and said : 
 
 ' If the blood in this glass turns black, tarry here no longer : 
 that will mean that I am about to die.' Then he took leave of 
 them and went his way. 
 
 He mounted the hill. What did not he see there ? All sorts, 
 of trees were there, all sorts of fruits, all sorts of birds ! Long did 
 Prince Ivan walk on ; at last he came to a house, a huge house ! 
 In it lived a king's daughter who had been carried off by 
 Koshchei the Deathless. 'Prince Ivan walked round the en- 
 closure, but could not see any doors. The king's daughter sa\*- 
 there was some one there, came on to the balcony, and called out 
 to him, ' See, there is a chink in the enclosure ; touch it with 
 your little finger, and it will become a door.' 
 
 What she said turned out to be true. Prince Ivan went into the 
 house, and the maiden received him kindly, gave him to eat and to 
 drink, and then began to question him. He told her how he had 
 come to rescue his mother from Koshchei the Deathless. Then 
 the maiden said : 
 
 1 It will be difficult for you to get at your mother, Prince Ivan. 
 You see, Koshchei is not mortal : he will kill you. He often 
 
 1 Do chigunnova kamnya, to an iron stone. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 103 
 
 comes here to see me. There is his sword, fifty poods in weight. 
 Can you lift it ? If so, you may venture to go/ 
 
 Not only did Prince Ivan lift the sword, but he tossed it high 
 in the air. So he went on his way again. 
 
 By-and-by he came to a second house. He knew now where 
 to look for the door, and he entered in. There was his mother. 
 With tears did they embrace each other. 
 
 Here also did he try his strength, heaving aloft a ball which 
 weighed some fifteen hundred poods. The time came for 
 Koshchei the Deathless to arrive. The mother hid away her son. 
 Suddenly Koshchei the Deathless entered the house and cried 
 out, ( Phou, Phou ! A Russian bone l one usen't to hear with one's 
 ears, or see with one's eyes, but now a Russian bone has come to 
 the house ! Who has been with you? Wasn't it your son ?' 
 
 ' What are you talking about, God bless you ! You've been 
 flying through Russia, and got the Russian air up your nostrils, 
 that's why you fancy it's here,' answered Prince Ivan's mother, and 
 then she drew nigh to Koshchei, addressed him in terms of affec- 
 tion, asked him about one thing and another, and at last said : 
 
 ' Whereabouts is your death, O Koshchei?' 
 
 ' My death,' he replied, * is in such and such a place. There 
 stands an oak, and under the oak is a casket, and in the casket is 
 a hare, and in the hare is a duck, and in the duck is an egg, and 
 in the egg is my death.' 
 
 Having thus spoken, Koshchei the Deathless tarried there a 
 little longer, and then flew away. 
 
 The time came Prince Ivan received his mother's blessing, and 
 went to look for Koshchei's death. He went on his way a long 
 time without eating or drinking ; at last he felt mortally hungry, 
 and thought, ' If only something would come my way ! ' Suddenly 
 there appeared a young wolf ; he determined to kill it. But out 
 from a hole sprang the she- wolf, and said, ( Don't hurt my little one 
 
 1 Russkaya kosf. I have translated literally, but the words mean nothing 
 more than 'a man/ ' something human. ' Cf. Radloff, iii. Ill, 301. 
 
104 Itl'SSIA* FOLK-TALES 
 
 I'll do you a good turn.' Very good ! Prince Iran let the young 
 wolf go. On he went and saw a crow. * Stop a bit,' he thought, 
 ' here I shall get a mouthful.' He loaded his gun and was going to 
 shoot, but the crow exclaimed, ' Don't hurt me ; I'll do you a good 
 turn.' 
 
 Prince Ivan thought the matter over and spared the crow. 
 Then he went farther, and came to a sea and stood still on the 
 shore. At that moment a young pike suddenly jumped out of 
 the water and fell on the strand. He caught hold of it, and 
 thought for he was half dead with hunger 'Now I shall have 
 something to eat.' All of a sudden appeared a pike and said, 
 ' Don't hurt my little one, Prince Ivan ; I'll do you a good turn.' 
 And so he spared the little pike also. 
 
 But how was he to cross the sea ? He sat down on the shore 
 and meditated. But the pike knew quite well what he was think- 
 ing about, and laid herself right across the sea. Prince Ivan 
 walked along her back, as if he were going over a bridge, and came 
 to the oak where Koshchei's death was. There he found the 
 casket and opened it out jumped the hare and ran away. How 
 was the hare to be stopped ? 
 
 Prince Ivan w r as terribly frightened at having4et the hare escape, 
 and gave himself up to gloomy thoughts ; but a wolf, the one he 
 had refrained from killing, rushed after the hare, caught it, and 
 brought it to Prince Ivan. With great delight he seized the hare, 
 cut it open and had such a fright ! Out popped the duck and 
 flew away. He fired after it, but shot all on one side, so again he 
 gave himself up to his thoughts. Suddenly there appeared the 
 crow with her little crows, and set off after the duck, and caught 
 it, and brought it to Prince Ivan. The Prince was greatly pleased 
 and got hold of the egg. Then he went on his way. But when 
 he came to the sea, he began washing the egg, and let it drop into 
 the water. However was he to get it out of the water? an 
 immeasurable depth ! Again the Prince gave himself up to de- 
 jection. 
 
 Suddenly the sea became violently agitated, and the pike 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 
 
 105 
 
 brought him the egg. Moreover it stretched itself across the sea. 
 Prince Ivan walked along it to the other side, and then he set out 
 again for his mother's. When he got there, they greeted each other 
 lovingly, and then she hid him again as before. Presently in flew 
 Koshchei the Deathless and said : 
 
 1 Phoo, Phoo ! No Russian bone can the ear hear nor the eye 
 see, but there's a smell of Russia here ! ' 
 
 ' What are you talking about, Koshchei ? There's no one with 
 me,' replied Prince Ivan's mother. 
 
 A second time spake Koshchei and said, ' I feel rather unwell' 
 
 Then Prince Ivan began squeezing the egg, and thereupon 
 
 Koshchei the Deathless bent double. At last Prince Ivan came 
 
 out from his hiding-place, held up the egg and said. * There is 
 
 your death, O Koshchei the Deathless ! ' 
 
 Then Koshchei fell on his knees before him, saying, ' Don't kill 
 me, Prince Ivan ! Let's be friends ! All the world will lie at our 
 feet.' 
 
 But these words had no weight with Prince Ivan. He smashed 
 the egg, and Koshchei the Deathless died. 
 
 Ivan and his mother took all they wanted and started home- 
 wards. On their way they came to where the King's daughter was 
 whom Ivan had seen on his way, and they took her with them too. 
 They went further, and came to the hill where Ivan's brothers were 
 still waiting for him. Then the maiden said, ' Prince Ivan ! do 
 go back to my house. I have forgotten a marriage robe, a 
 diamond ring, and a pair of seamless shoes.' 
 
 He consented to do so, but in the meantime he let his mother 
 go down the ladder, as well as the Princess whom it had been 
 settled he was to marry when they got home. They were 
 received by his brothers, who then set to work and cut away 
 the ladder, so that he himself would not be able to get down. 
 And they used such threats to his mother and the Princess, that 
 they made them promise not to tell about Prince Ivan when they 
 got home. And after a time they reached their native country. 
 Their father was delighted at seeing his wife and h's two sons, 
 '"ut still he was grieved about the other one, Prince Ivan. 
 
io6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 But Prince Ivan returned to the home of his betrothed, and got 
 the wedding dress, and the ring, and the seamless shoes. Then 
 he came back to the mountain and tossed the ring from one hand 
 to the other. Immediately there appeared twelve strong youths, 
 who said : 
 
 * What are your commands ? ' t 
 
 ' Carry me down from this hill.' 
 
 The youths immediately carried him down. Prince Ivan put 
 the ring on his finger they disappeared. 
 
 Then he went on to his own country, and arrived at the city in 
 which his father and brothers lived. 
 
 There he took up his quarters in the house of an old woman, 
 and asked her : 
 
 'What news is there, mother, in your country?' 
 
 ' What news, lad ? You see our queen was kept in prison by 
 Koshchei the Deathless. Her three sons went to look for her, and 
 two of them found her and came back, but the third, Prince Ivan, 
 has disappeared, and no one knows where he is. The King is very 
 unhappy about him. And those two Princes and their mother 
 brought a certain Princess back with them ; and the eldest son 
 wants to marry her, but she declares he must fetch her her betrothal 
 ring first, or get one made just as she wants it. But al though 
 they have made a public proclamation about it, no one has been 
 found to do it yet.' 
 
 * Well, mother, go and tell the King that you will make one. I'll 
 manage it for you/ said Prince Ivan. 
 
 So the old woman immediately dressed herself, and hastened 
 to the King, and said : 
 
 6 Please your Majesty, I will make the wedding ring. 
 
 ' Make it, then, make it, mother ! Such people as you are 
 welcome,' said the king. ' But if you don't make it, off goes your 
 head ! ' 
 
 The old woman was dreadfully frightened ; she ran home, and 
 told Prince Ivan to set to work at the ring. But Ivan lay down to 
 sleep, troubling himself very little about it. The ring was there all 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 107 
 
 the time. So he only laughed at the old woman, but she was 
 trembling all over, and crying, and scolding him. 
 
 ' As for you,' she said, ' you're out of the scrape ; but you've 
 done for me, fool that I was ! ' 
 
 The old woman cried and cried until she fell asleep. Early in 
 the morning Prince Ivan got up and awakened her, saying : 
 
 ( Get up, mother, and go out ! take them the ring, and mind, 
 don't accept more than one ducat for it. If anyone asks who 
 made the ring, say you made it yourself ; don't say a word about 
 me.' 
 
 The old woman was overjoyed and carried off the ring. The 
 bride was delighted with it. 
 
 ' Just what I wanted,' she said. So they gave the old woman 
 a dish full of gold, but she took only one ducat. 
 
 1 Why do you take so little ? ' said the king. 
 
 4 What good would a lot do me, your Majesty ? if I want some 
 more afterwards, you'll give it me/ 
 
 Having said this the old woman went away. 
 
 Time passed, and the news spread abroad that the bride had 
 told her lover to fetch her her wedding-dress or else to get one 
 made, just such a one as she wanted. Well, the old woman, 
 thanks to Prince Ivan's aid, succeeded in this matter too, and 
 took her the wedding-dress. And afterwards she took her the 
 seamless shoes also, and would only accept one ducat each time, 
 and always said that she had made the things herself. 
 
 Well, the people heard that there would be a wedding at the 
 palace on such-and-such a day. And the day they all anxiously 
 awaited came at last. Then Prince Ivan said to the old woman : 
 
 * Look here, mother ! when the bride is just going 'to be 
 married, let me know.' 
 
 The old woman didn't let the time go by unheeded. 
 Then Ivan immediately put on his princely raiment, and went 
 out of the house. 
 
 * See, mother, this is what I'm really like ! ' says he. 
 The old woman fell at his feet. 
 
io8 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Pray forgive me for scolding you,' says she. 
 
 * God be with you/ l says he. 
 
 So he went into the church and, finding his brothers had not 
 yet arrived, he stood up alongside of the bride and got married 
 to her. Then he and she were escorted back to the palace, and 
 as they went along, the proper bridegroom, his eldest brother, 
 met them. But when he saw that his bride and Prince Ivan were 
 being escorted home together, he turned back again ignominiously. 
 
 As to the king, he was delighted to see Prince Ivan again, 
 and when he had learnt all about the treachery of his brothers, 
 after the wedding feast had been solemnised, he banished the 
 two elder princes, but he made Ivan heir to the throne. 
 
 In the story of ' Prince Arikad,' 2 the Queen-Mother is 
 carried off by the Whirlwind, 3 instead of by Koshchei. Her 
 youngest son climbs the hill by the aid of iron hooks, kills 
 Vikhor, and lowers his mother, and three other ladies 
 whom he has rescued, by means of a rope made of strips of 
 hide. This his brothers cut to prevent him from descending. 4 
 They then oblige the ladies to swear not to betray them, 
 the taking of the oath being accompanied by the eating of 
 earth. 5 The same formality is observed in another story in 
 
 1 Bog prostit = God will forgive. This sounds to the English ear like 
 an ungracious reply, but it is the phrase ordinarily used by a superior when an 
 inferior asks his pardon. Before taking the sacrament at Easter, the servants 
 in a Russian household ask their employers to forgive them for any faults of 
 which they may have been guilty. ' God will forgive,' is the proper reply. 
 
 2 Khudyakof, No. 43. 
 
 8 Viktor 1 (vif = to whirl) an agent often introduced for the purpose of 
 abduction. The sorcerers of the present day are supposed to be able to direct 
 whirlwinds, and a not uncommon form of imprecation in some parts of Russia 
 is 'May the whirlwind carry thee off!' See Afanasief, P.V.S. i. 317, and 
 ' Songs of the Russian People,' p. 382. 
 
 4 This story is very like that of the 'Rider of Grianaig,' 'Tales of the 
 West Highlands,' iii. No. 58. 
 
 5 Cf. Herodotus, bk. iv. cap. 172. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 109 
 
 which an oath of a like kind is exacted. 1 The sacred 
 nature of such an obligation may account for the singular 
 reticence so often maintained, under similar circumstances, 
 in stories of this class. 
 
 In one of the descriptions of Koshchei's death, he is 
 said to be killed by a blow on the forehead inflicted by 
 the mysterious egg that last link in the magic chain by 
 which his life is darkly bound. 2 In another version of the 
 same story, but told of a Snake, the fatal blow is struck by 
 a small stone found in the yolk of an egg, which is inside a 
 duck, which is inside a hare, which is inside a stone, which 
 is on an island [i.e. the fabulous island Buy an]. 3 In 
 another variant 4 Koshchei attempts to deceive his fair 
 captive, pretending that his ' death ' resides in a besom, or 
 in a fence, both of which she adorns with gold in token of 
 her love. Then he confesses that his ' death ' really lies in 
 an egg, inside a duck, inside a log which is floating on the 
 sea. Prince Ivan gets hold of the egg and shifts it from 
 one hand to the other. Koshchei rushes wildly from side 
 to side of the room. At last the prince breaks the egg. 
 Koshchei falls on the floor and dies. 
 
 This heart-breaking episode occurs in the folk-tales of 
 many lands. 5 It may not be amiss to trace it through some 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. 44. 
 
 2 Erlenvein, No. 12, p. 67. A popular tradition asserts that the Devil may 
 be killed if shot with an egg laid on Christmas Eve. See Afanasief, P. V. S. 
 ii. 603. 
 
 3 Afanasief, i. No. 14, p. 92. For an account of Buyan, see 'Songs of 
 the Russian People,' p. 374. 
 
 4 Afanasief, vii. No. 6, p. 83. 
 
 6 Some of these have been compared by Mr. Cox, in his ' Mythology of 
 the Aryan Nations,' i. 135-142. Also by Professor A. de Gubernatis, who 
 sees in the duck the dawn, in the hare the moon sacrificed in the morning, ' 
 and in the egg the sun. ' Zoological Mythology,' i. 269. 
 
i io RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 of its forms. In a Norse story l a Giant's heart lies in an 
 egg, inside a duck, which swims in a well, in a church, on 
 an island. With this may be compared another Ndrse 
 tale, 2 in which a Haugebasse, or Troll, who has carried off a 
 princess, informs her that he and all his companions will 
 burst asunder when above them passes ' the grain of sand 
 that lies under the ninth tongue in the ninth head ' of a 
 certain dead dragon. The grain of sand is found and 
 brought, and the result is that the whole of the monstrous 
 brood of Trolls or Haugebasscr is instantaneously destroyed. 
 In a Transylvanian-Saxon story 3 a Witch's ' life ' is a 
 light which burns in an egg, inside a duck, which swims 
 on a pond, inside a mountain, and she dies when it is put 
 out. In the Bohemian story of 'The Sun-horse ' 4 a War- 
 lock's ' strength ' lies in an egg, which is within a duck, 
 which is within a stag, which is under a tree. A Seer finds 
 the egg and sucks it. Then the Warlock becomes as weak 
 as a child, ' for all his strength had passed into the Seer.' In 
 the Gaelic story of ' The Sea-Maiden,' 5 the ' great beast 
 with three heads ' which haunts the loch cannot be killed 
 until an egg is broken, which is in the mouth of a trout, 
 which springs out of a crow, which flies out of a hind, 
 which lives on an island in the middle of the loch. In a 
 Modern Greek tale the life of a dragon or other baleful 
 being comes to an end simultaneously with the lives of 
 three pigeons which are shut up in an all but inaccessible 
 
 1 Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 36, Dasent, No. 9, p. 71. 
 
 2 Asbjornsen's 'New Series,' No. 70, p. 39. 
 
 Haltrich's ' Deutsche Volksmarchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Sieben- 
 biirgen,' p. 188. 
 
 4 Wenzig's ' Westslawischer Marchenschatz,' No. 37, p. 190. 
 
 5 Campbell's 'Tales of the West Highlands,' i. No. 4, p. 81. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL in 
 
 chamber, 1 or inclosed within a wild boar. 2 Closely con- 
 nected with the Greek tale is the Servian story of the 
 dragon 3 whose ' strength ' (snagd} lies in a sparrow, which is 
 inside a dove, inside a hare, inside a boar, inside a dragon 
 (ajdayd) which is in a lake, near a royal city. The hero of 
 the story fights the dragon of the lake, and after a long 
 struggle, being invigorated at the critical moment by a kiss 
 which the heroine imprints on his forehead he flings it 
 high in the air. When it falls to the ground it breaks in 
 pieces, and out comes the boar. Eventually the hero 
 seizes the sparrow and wrings its neck, but not before he 
 has obtained from it the charm necessary for the recovery 
 of his missing brothers and a number" of other victims of 
 the dragon's cruelty. 
 
 To these European tales a very interesting parallel is 
 afforded by the Indian story of ' Punchkin,' 4 whose life 
 depends on that of a parrot, which is in a cage placed 
 beneath the lowest of six jars of water, piled one on the 
 other, and standing in the midst of a desolate country 
 covered with thick jungle. When the parrot's legs and 
 wings are pulled off, Punchkin loses his legs and arms ; and 
 when its neck is wrung, his head twists round and he dies. 
 
 One of the strangest of the stories which turn on this 
 idea of an external heart is the Samoyed tale, 5 in which 
 
 1 Hahn, No. 26, i. 187. 
 
 2 Ibid., vol. ii. pp. 215, 294-5. 
 
 3 Vuk Karajich, No. 8. The monster is called in the Servian text an 
 Ajdaya, a word meaning a dragon or snake. It is rendered by Drache in the 
 German translation of his collection of tales made by his daughter, but the 
 word is evidently akin to the Sanskrit ahi, the Greek \is, t^iSm, the Latin 
 anguis, the Russian ujak, the Luthanian ahgis, etc.. The Servian word snaga 
 answers to the Russian sita, strength. 
 
 4 Miss Frere's ' Old Deccan Days,' pp. 13-16. 
 
 5 Castren's ' Ethnologische Vorlesungen iiber die Altaischen Volker,' 
 p. 174. 
 
ii2 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 seven brothel's are in the habit, every night, of taking out 
 their hearts and sleeping without them. A captive damsel, 
 whose mother they have killed, receives the extracted hearts 
 and hangs them on the tent-pole, where they remain till 
 the following morning. One night her brother contrives to 
 get the hearts into his possession. Next morning he takes 
 them into the tent, where he finds the brothers at the point 
 of death. In vain do they beg for their hearts, which he 
 flings on the floor. ' And as he flings down the hearts the 
 brothers die.' 
 
 The legend to which I am now about to refer will 
 serve as a proof of the venerable antiquity of the myth from 
 which the folk-tales, which have just been quoted, appear 
 to have sprung. A papyrus, which is supposed to be ' of 
 the age of the nineteenth dynasty, about B.C. 1300,' has 
 preserved an Egyptian tale about two brothers. The 
 younger of these, Satou, leaves the elder, Anepou (Anubis) 
 and retires to the Valley of the Acacia. But, before setting 
 off, Satou states that he shall take his heart and place it 
 ' in the flowers of an acacia-tree,' so that* if the tree is cut 
 down, his heart will fall to the ground and he will die. 
 Having given Anepou instructions what to do in such a 
 case, he seeks the valley. There he hunts wild animals by 
 day, and at night he sleeps under the acacia-tree on which 
 his heart rests. But at length Noum, the Creator, forms a 
 wife for him, and all the other gods endow her with gifts. 
 To this Egyptian Pandora Satou confides the secret of his 
 heart. One day a tress of her perfumed hair floats down 
 the river, and is taken to the King of Egypt. He determines 
 to make its owner his queen, and she, like Rhodope or 
 Cinderella, is sought for far and wide. When she has been 
 found and brought to the king, she recommends him to 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 113 
 
 have the acacia cut down, so as to get rid; of her lawful 
 husband. Accordingly the tree is cut down, the heart falls, 
 and Satou dies. 
 
 About this time Anepou sets out to pay his long-lost 
 brother a visit. Finding him dead, he searches for his heart, 
 but searches in vain for three years. In the fourth year, 
 however, it suddenly becomes desirous of returning to 
 Egypt, and says, ' I will leave this celestial sphere.' Next 
 day Anepou finds it under the acacia, and places it in a 
 vase which contains some mystic fluid. When the heart has 
 become saturated with the moisture, the corpse shudders 
 and opens its eyes. Anepou pours the rest of the fluid 
 down its throat, the heart returns to its proper place, and 
 Satou is restored to life. 1 ' 
 
 In one of the Skazkas, a volshebnitsa or enchantress 
 is introduced, whose 'death/ like that of Koshchei, is 
 spoken of as something definite and localized. A prince 
 has loved and lost a princess, who is so beautiful that no 
 man can look at her without fainting. Going in search of 
 her, he comes to the home of an enchantress, who invites 
 him to tea and gives him leave to inspect her house. As 
 he wanders about he comes to a cellar in which ' he sees 
 that beautiful one whom he loves, in fire.' She tells him 
 
 1 The story has been translated by M. de Rouge in the * Revue Archeolo- 
 gique,' 1852-3, p. 391 (referred to by Professor Benfey, Panchatantra, ' i. 
 426) and summarised by Mr. Goodwin in the 'Cambridge Essays' for 1858, 
 pp. 232-7, and by Dr. Mannhardt in the ' Zeitschrift fur deutsche Mythologie,' 
 &c. vol. iv. pp. 232-59. For other versions of the story of the Giant's heart, 
 or Koshchei's death, see Professor R. Kohler's remarks on the subject in 
 'Orient und Occident,' ii. pp. 99-103. A singular parallel to part of the 
 Egyptian myth is offered by the Hottentot story in which the heart of a girl 
 whom a lion has killed and eaten, is extracted from the lion, and placed in a 
 calabash filled with milk. ' The calabash increased in size, and in proportion 
 to this, the girl grew again inside it. ' Bleek's ' Reynard the Fox in South 
 Africa,' p. 55. Cf. Radloff, i. 75 ; ii. 237-8, 532-3. 
 
ii4 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 her love for him has brought her there ; and he learns that 
 there is no hope of freeing her unless he can find out ' where 
 lies the death of the enchantress.' So that evening he 
 asks his hostess about it, and she replies : 
 
 ' In a certain lake stands a .blue rose-tree. It is in a 
 deep place, and no man can reach unto it. My death is 
 there.' 
 
 He sets out in search of it, and, aided by a magic ring, 
 reaches the lake, ' and sees there the blue rose-tree, and 
 around it a blue forest.' After several failures, he succeeds 
 in plucking up the rose-tree by the roots, whereupon the 
 enchantress straightway sickens. He returns to her house, 
 finds her at the point of death, and throws the rose-bush 
 into the cellar where his love is, crying, ' Behold her death ! ' 
 and immediately the whole building shakes to its founda- 
 tions ' and becomes an island, on which are people who 
 had been sitting in Hell, and who offer up thanks to 
 Prince Ivan.' l 
 
 In another Russian story, 2 a prince is grievously tor- 
 mented by a witch who has got hold of his heart, and 
 keeps it perpetually seething in a magic cauldron. In a 
 third, 3 a ' Queen-Maiden ' falls in love with the young Ivan, 
 and, after being betrothed to him, would fain take him 
 away to her own land and marry him. But his stepmother 
 throws him into a magic slumber, and the Queen-Maiden has 
 to return home without him. When he awakes, and learns 
 that she has gone, he sorrows greatly, and sets out in search 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. 109. 2 Khudyakof, No. no. 
 
 8 Afanasief, v. No. 42. See also the Zagovor, or spell, to give a good 
 youth a longing for a fair maiden,' (' Songs of the Russian People,' p. 369,) in 
 which 'the Longing ' is described as lying under a plank in a hut, weeping and 
 sobbing, and ' waiting to get at the white light,' and is desired to gnaw its way 
 into the youth's heart. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 115 
 
 of her. At last he learns from a friendly witch that his 
 betrothed no longer cares for him, < her love is hidden far 
 away.' It seems that ' on the other side of the- ocean stands 
 an oak, and on the oak a coffer, and in the coffer a hare, 
 and in the hare a duck, and in the duck an egg, and in the 
 egg the love of the Queen-Maiden.' Ivan gets possession of 
 the egg, and the friendly witch contrives to have it placed 
 before the Queen-Maiden at dinner. She eats it, and 
 immediately her love for Ivan returns in all its pristine 
 force. He appears, and she, overjoyed, carries him off to 
 her own land and there marries him. 
 
 After this digression we will now return to our Snakes. 
 All the monstrous forms which figure in the stories we have 
 just been considering appear to be merely different species 
 of the great serpent family. Such names as Koshchei, 
 Chudo Yudo, Usuinya, and the like, seem to admit of ex- 
 change at the will of the storyteller with that of Zmei' 
 Goruinuich, the many-headed Snake, who in Russian story- 
 land is represented as the type of all that is evil. But in the 
 actual Russia of to-day, snakes bear by no means so bad a 
 character. Their presence in a cottage is considered a good 
 omen by the peasants, who leave out milk for them to 
 drink, and who think that to kill such visitors would be a 
 terrible sin. 1 This is probably a result of some remem- 
 brance of a religious cultus paid to the household gods 
 under the form of snakes, such as existed of old, according 
 to Kromer, in Poland and Lithuania. The following story 
 is more in keeping with such ideas as these, than with those 
 which are expressed in the tales about Koshchei and his kin. 
 
 1 For stories about house snakes, &c. , see Grimm 'Deutsche My thologie,' 
 p. 650, and Tylor, 'Primitive Culture,' ii. pp. 7, 217-220. 
 
n6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 THE WATER SNAKED 
 
 THERE was once an old woman who had a daughter; and her 
 daughter went down to the pond one day to bathe with the 
 other girls. They all stripped off their shifts, and went into the 
 water. Then there came a snake out of the water, and glided on 
 to the daughter's shift. After a time the girls all came out, and 
 began to put on their shifts, and the old woman's daughter wanted 
 to put on hers, but there was the snake lying on it. She tried 
 to drive him away, but there he stuck and would not move. Then 
 the snake said : 
 
 ' If you'll marry me, I'll give you back your shift.' 
 
 Now she wasn't at all inclined to marry him, but the other 
 girls said : 
 
 ' As if it were possible for you to be married to him ! Say 
 you will ! ' So she said, ' Very well, I will.' Then the snake 
 glided off from the shift, and went straight into the water. The 
 girl dressed and went home. And as soon as she got there, 
 she said to her mother, 
 
 6 Mammie, mammie, thus and thus, a snake got upon ,my 
 shift, and says he, " Marry me or I won't let you have your shift ; " 
 and I said, "I will."' 
 
 * What nonsense are you talking, you little fool ! as if one 
 could marry a snake ! ' 
 
 And so they remained just as they were, and forgot all about 
 the matter. 
 
 A week passed by, and one day they saw ever so many snakes, 
 a huge troop of them, wriggling up to their cottage. 'Ah, 
 mammie, save me, save me ! ' cried the girl, and her mother 
 slammed the door and barred the entrance as quickly as possible. 
 The snakes would have rushed in at the door, but the door was 
 shut ; they would have rushed into the passage, but the passage 
 
 1 Or Ujak. Erlenvein, No. 2. From the Tula Government. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 117 
 
 was closed. Then in a moment they rolled themselves into a 
 ball, flung themselves at the window, smashed it to pieces, and 
 glided in a body into the room. The girl got upon the stove, but 
 they followed her, pulled her down, and bore her out of the room 
 and out of doors. Her mother accompanied her, crying like 
 anything. 
 
 They took the girl down to the pond, and dived right into the 
 water with her. And there they all turned into men and women. 
 The mother remained for some time on the dike, wailed a little, 
 and then went home. 
 
 Three years went by. The girl lived down there, and had 
 two children, a son and a daughter. Now she often entreated 
 her husband to let her go- to see her mother. So at last one day 
 he took her up to the surface of the water, and brought her 
 ashore. But she asked him before leaving him, 
 
 1 What am I to call out when I want you ? ' 
 
 4 Call out to me, " Osip, [Joseph] Osip, come here ! " and I 
 will come,' he replied. 
 
 Then he dived under water again, and she went to her 
 mother's, carrying her little girl on one arm, and leading her boy 
 by the hand. Out came her mother to meet her was so 
 delighted to see her ! 
 
 1 Good day, mother ! ' said the daughter. 
 
 ' Have you been doing well while you were living down 
 there ? ' asked her mother. 
 
 i Very well indeed, mother. My life there is better than 
 yours here.' 
 
 They sat down for a bit and chatted. Her mother got 
 dinner ready for her, and she dined. 
 
 4 What's your husband's name ? ' asked her mother. 
 
 * Osip,' she replied. 
 
 1 And how are you to get home ? ' 
 
 c I shall go to the dike, and call out, " Osip, Osip, come 
 here ! " and he'll come.' 
 
 ' Lie down, daughter, and rest a bit,' said the mother. 
 
ii8 RUSSIAN' FOLK-TALES 
 
 So the daughter lay down and went to sleep. The mother 
 immediately took an axe and sharpened it, and went down to the 
 dike with it. And when she came to the dike, she began calling 
 out, 
 
 * Osip, Osip, come here ! ' 
 
 No sooner had Osip shown his head than the old woman 
 lifted her axe and chopped it off. And the water in the pond 
 became dark with blood. 
 
 The old woman went home. And when she got home her 
 daughter awoke. 
 
 * Ah ! mother,' says she, * I'm getting tired of being here ; I'll 
 go home/ 
 
 * Do sleep here to-night, daughter ; perhaps you won't have 
 another chance of being with me.' 
 
 So the daughter stayed and spent the night there. In the 
 morning she got up and her mother got breakfast ready for her 
 she breakfasted, and then she said good-bye to her mother and 
 went away, carrying her little garl in her arms, while her boy 
 followed behind her. She came to the dike, and called out : 
 
 ' Osip, Osip, come here ! ' 
 
 She called and called, but he did not come. 
 
 Then she looked into the water, and there she saw a head 
 floating about. Then she guessed what had happened. 
 
 'Alas ! my mother has killed him !' she cried. r 
 
 There on the bank she wept and wailed. And then to her 
 girl she cried : 
 
 * Fly about as a wren, henceforth and evermore ! ' 
 And to her boy she cried : 
 
 * Fly about as a nightingale, my boy, henceforth and ever- 
 more ! ' 
 
 4 But I,' she said, ' will fly about as a cuckoo, crying " Cuc- 
 koo ! " henceforth and evermore ! ' 
 
 [Stories about serpent-spouses are by no means uncommon, but I can find 
 no parallel to the. above so far as the termination is concerned. Benfey 
 quotes or refers to a great number of the transformation tales in which a husband 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 119 
 
 or a wife appears at times in the form of a snake. (Panchatantra, i. pp. 254-7 
 266-7). Sometimes, when a husband of this kind has doffed his serpent's skin, 
 his wife seizes it, and throws it into the fire. Her act generally proves to be 
 to her advantage, as well as to his, but not always. On a story of this kind 
 was doubtless founded the legend handed down to us by Appuleius of Cupid 
 and Psyche. Among its wildest versions are the Albanian ' Schlangenkind ' 
 (Hahn, No. 100), a very similar Roumanian tale (Ausland, 1857, No. 43, quoted 
 by Benfey), the Wallachian Trandafiru (Schott, No. 23, in which the husband 
 is a pumpkin (Kiirbiss) by day), and the second of * the Servian tales of the 
 Snake-Husband (Vuk Karajich, No. 10).] 
 
 The snakes which figure in this weird story, the termin- 
 ation of which is so unusually tragic, bear a strong resem- 
 blance to the Indian Nagas, the inhabitants of Patala or the 
 underground world, serpents which take at will the human 
 shape and often mix with mortals. They may, also, be 
 related -to the mermen and mermaids of the sea-coasts, and 
 to the similar beings with which, under various names, 
 tradition peoples the lakes, and streams, and fountains of 
 Europe. The South-Russian peasantry have from imme- \ 
 morial times maintained a firm belief in the existence of 
 water-nymphs, called Rusalkas, closely resembling the X 
 Nereids of Modern Greece, the female Nixies of the North 
 of Europe, and throughout the whole of Russia, at least in 
 outlying districts, there still lingers a sort of cultus of cer- 5 
 tain male water-sprites who bear the name of Vodyanies, J 
 and who are almost identical with the beings who haunt 
 the waters of various countries such as the German Nix, 
 the Swedish Nek, the Finnish Ndkke, etc. 1 
 
 In 'the Skazkas we find frequent mention of beauteous 
 maidens who usually live beneath the wave, but who can 
 transform themselves into birds and fly wherever they 
 
 1 'Grimm, 'Deutsche My thologie,' 456. For a description of the Rusalk 
 and the Vodyany, see ' Songs of the Russian People,' pp. 139-146. 
 
120 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 please. We may, perhaps be allowed to designate them 
 by the well-known name of Swan-Maidens, though they do 
 not always assume, together with their plumage-robes, the 
 form of swans, but sometimes appear as geese, ducks, 
 spoonbills, or aquatic birds of some other species. They 
 are, for the most part, the daughters of the Morskoi Tsar, 
 or Water King a being who plays an important part in 
 Slavonic popular fiction. He is of a somewhat shadowy 
 form, and his functions are not very clearly defined, for the 
 part he usually fills is sometimes allotted to Koshchei or 
 to the Snake, but the stories generally represent him as a 
 patriarchal monarch, living in subaqueous halls of light and 
 splendour, whence he emerges at times to seize a human 
 victim. It is generally a boy whom he gets into his power, 
 and who eventually obtains the hand of one of his daugh- 
 ters, and escapes with her to the upper world, though not 
 without considerable difficulty. Such are, for instance, the 
 leading incidents in the following skazka, many features of 
 which closely resemble those of various well-known West- 
 European folk-tales. 
 
 THE WATER KING AND VASILISSA THE WiSE. 1 
 
 ONCE upon a time there lived a King and Queen, and the King 
 was very fond of hunting and shooting. Well, one day he went 
 out hunting, and he saw an Eaglet sitting on an oak. But just as 
 he was going to shoot at it the Eaglet began to entreat him, 
 crying : . 
 
 * Don't shoot me, my lord King ! better take me home with you ; 
 some time or other I shall be of service to you.' 
 
 The King reflected awhile and said, ' How can you be of use 
 to me ?' and again he was going to shoot. 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 23. From the Voroneje Government. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 121 
 
 Then the Eaglet said to him a second time : 
 
 ' Don't shoot me, my lord King ! better take me home with 
 you ; some time or other I shall be of use to you.' 
 
 The King thought and thought, but couldn't imagine a bit the 
 more what use the Eaglet could be to him, and so he determined 
 to shoot it. Then a third time the Eaglet exclaimed : 
 
 1 Don't shoot me, my lord King ! better take me home with 
 you and feed me for three years. Some time or other I shall be of 
 service to you ! ' 
 
 The King relented, took the Eaglet home with him, and fed it 
 for a year, for two years. But it ate so much that it devoured all 
 his cattle. The King had neither a cow nor a sheep left. At 
 length the Eagle said : 
 
 ' Now let me go free !' 
 
 The King set it at liberty ; the Eagle began trying its wings. 
 But no, it could not fly yet I So it said : 
 
 4 Well, my lord King ! you have fed me two years ; now, 
 whether you like it or no, feed me for one year more. Even if you 
 have to borrow, at all events feed me ; you won't lose by it ! ' 
 
 Well, this is what the King did. He borrowed cattle from 
 everywhere round about, and he fed the Eagle for the space of a 
 whole year, and afterwards he set it at liberty. The Eagle rose 
 ever so high, flew and flew, then dropt down again to the earth 
 and said : 
 
 ' Now then, my lord King ! Take a seat on my back ! we'll 
 have a fly together ? ' 
 
 The King got on the Eagle's back. Away they went flying. 
 Before very long they reached the blue sea. Then the Eagle shook 
 off the King, who fell into the sea, and sank up to his knees. , But 
 the Eagle didn't let him drown ! it jerked him on to its wing, and 
 asked : 
 
 * How now, my lord King ! were you frightened, perchance?' 
 
 ' I was,' said the King ; ' I thought I was going to be drowned 
 outright !' 
 
 Again they flew and flew till they reached another sea. The 
 
122 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Eagle shook off the King right in the middle of the sea ; the King 
 sank up to his girdle. The Eagle jerked him on to its wing again, 
 and asked : 
 
 * Well, my lord King ! were you frightened, perchance ?' 
 
 'I was, 'he replied, 'but all the time I thought, "Perhaps, 
 please God, the creature will pull me out." ' 
 
 Away they flew again, flew, and arrived at a third sea. The 
 Eagle dropped the King into a great gulf, so that he sank right up 
 to his neck. And the third time the Eagle jerked him on to its 
 wing, and asked : 
 
 ' Well, my lord King ! Were you frightened, perchance ? 
 
 * I was,' says the King, * but still I said to myself, " Perhaps it 
 will pull me out." ' 
 
 * Well, my lord King ! now you have felt what the fear of 
 death is like ! What I have done was in payment of an old score. 
 Do you remember my sitting on an oak, and your wanting to 
 shoot me ? Three times you were going to let fly, but I kept on 
 entreating you not to shoot, saying to myself all the time, "Per- 
 haps he won't kill me ; perhaps he'll relent and take me home with 
 him!"' 
 
 Afterwards they flew beyond thrice nine lands : long, long did 
 they fly. Says the Eagle, ' Look, my lord King ! what is above 
 us and what below us ? ' 
 The King looked. 
 
 * Above us,' he says, ( is the sky, below us the earth.' 
 
 ' Look again ; what is on the right hand and on the left ?' 
 
 ' On the right hand is an open plain, on the left stands a 
 house.' 
 
 1 We will fly thither,' said the Eagle ; ' my youngest sister lives 
 there.' 
 
 They went straight into the courtyard. The sister came out 
 to meet them, received her brother cordially, and seated him at 
 the oaken table. But on the King she would not so much 
 as look, but left him outside, loosed greyhounds, and set 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 123 
 
 them at him. The Eagle was exceedingly wroth, jumped up from 
 table, seized the King, and flew away with him again. 
 
 Well, they flew and flew. Presently the Eagle said to the 
 King, ' Look round ; what is behind us ?' 
 
 The King turned his head, looked, and said, ' Behind us is a 
 red house.' 
 
 * That is the house of my youngest sister on fire, because she 
 did not receive you, but set greyhounds at you !' 
 
 They flew and flew. Again the Eagle asked : 
 
 * Look again, my lord King ; what is above us, and what below 
 us?' 
 
 * Above us is the sky, below us the earth.' 
 
 ' Look and see what is on the right hand and on the left.' 
 
 * On the right is the open plain, on the left there stands a 
 house.' 
 
 * There lives my second sister ; we'll go and pay her a visit.' 
 They stopped in a wide courtyard. The second sister received 
 
 her brother cordially, and seated him at the oaken table ; but the 
 King was left outside, and she loosed greyhounds, and set them at 
 him. The Eagle flew into a rage, jumped up from table, caught 
 up the King, and flew away farther with him. They flew and 
 flew. Says the Eagle : 
 
 * My lord King ! look round ! what is behind us ?' 
 The King looked back. 
 
 * There stands behind us a red house.' 
 
 * That's my second sister's house burning ! ' said the Eagle. 
 ' Now we'll fly to where my mother and my eldest sister live.' 
 
 Well, they flew there. The Eagle's mother and eldest sister 
 were delighted to see them, and received the King with cordiality 
 and respect. 
 
 * Now, my lord King,' said the Eagle, ' tarry awhile with us, 
 and afterwards I will give you a ship, and will repay you for all I 
 ate in your house, and then God speed you home again ! ' 
 
 So the Eagle gave the King a ship and two coffers the one 
 red, the other green and said : 
 
124 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Mind now! don't open the coffers until you get home. Then 
 open the red coffer in the back court, and the green coffer in the 
 front court.' 
 
 The King took the coffers, parted with the Eagle, and sailed 
 along the blue sea. Presently he came to a certain island, and 
 there his ship stopped. He landed on the shore, and began 
 thinking about the coffers, and wondering whatever there could 
 be in them, and why the Eagle had told him not to open them. 
 He thought and thought, and at last couldn't hold out any more 
 he longed so awfully to know all about it. So he took the red 
 coffer, set it on the ground, and opened it and out of it came 
 such a quantity of different kinds of cattle that there was no 
 counting them ; the island had barely room enough for them. 
 
 When the King saw that, he became exceedingly sorrowful, and 
 began to weep and therewithal to say : 
 
 * What is there now left for me to do ? how shall I get all this 
 cattle back into so little a coffer ? ' 
 
 Lo there came out of the water a man came up to him, and 
 asked : 
 
 4 Wherefore are you weeping so bitterly, O lord King ? ' 
 
 1 How can I help weeping ! ' answers the King. * How shall 
 I be able to get all this great herd into so small a coffer ? ' 
 
 ( If you like, I will set your mind at rest. I will pack up all 
 your cattle for you. But on one condition only. You must give 
 me whatever you have at home that you don't know of.' 
 
 The King reflected. 
 
 6 Whatever is there at home that I don't know of?' says he. 
 c I fancy I know about everything that's there.' 
 
 He reflected, and consented. * Pack them up,' says he. ' I 
 will give you whatever I have at home that I know nothing 
 about.' 
 
 So that man packed away all his cattle for him in the coffer. 
 The King went on board ship and sailed away homewards. 
 
 When he reached home, then only did he learn that a son had 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 125 
 
 been born to him. And he began kissing the child, caressing it, 
 and at the same time bursting into such floods of tears ! 
 
 * My lord King ! ; says the Queen, ' tell me wherefore thou 
 droppest bitter tears ? ' 
 
 * For joy ! ' he replies. 
 
 He was afraid to tell her the truth, that the Prince would have 
 to be given up. Afterwards he went into the back court, opened 
 the red coffer, and thence issued oxen and cows, sheep and rams ; 
 there were multitudes of all sorts of cattle, so that all the .sheds 
 and pastures were crammed full. He went into the front 
 court, opened the green coffer, and there appeared a great and 
 glorious garden. What trees there were in it to be sure ! The 
 King was so delighted that he forgot all about giving up his son. 
 
 Many years went by. One day the King took it into his head 
 to go for a stroll, and he came to a river. At that moment the 
 same man he had seen before came out of the water, and said : 
 
 * You've pretty soon become forgetful, lord King ! Think a 
 little ! surely you're in my debt ! ' 
 
 The King returned home full of grief, and told all the truth to 
 the Queen and the Prince. They all mourned and wept together, 
 but they decided that there was no help for it, the Prince must be 
 given up. So they took him to the mouth of the river and there 
 they left him alone. 
 
 The Prince looked around, saw a footpath, and followed it, 
 trusting God would lead him somewhere. He walked and walked, 
 and came to a dense forest : in the forest stood a hut, in the hut 
 lived a Baba Yaga. 
 
 * Suppose I go in/ thought the Prince, and went in. 
 
 * Good day, Prince ! ' said the Baba Yaga. ' Are you seeking 
 work or shunning work ? J 
 
 ' Eh, granny ! First give me to eat and to drink, and then ask 
 me questions/ 
 
 So she gave him food and drink, and the Prince told her 
 everything as to whither he was going and with what purpose. 
 
126 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Then the Baba Yaga said : * Go, my child, to the sea-shore : 
 there will fly thither twelve spoonbills, which will turn into fair 
 maidens, and begin bathing ; do you steal quietly up and lay your 
 hands on the eldest maiden's shift. When you have come to 
 terms with her, go to the Water King, and there will meet you on 
 the way Obedalo and Opivalo, and also Moroz Treskun l take 
 all of them with you ; they will do you good service. 7 
 
 The Prince bid the Yaga farewell, went to the appointed spot 
 on the sea-shore, and hid behind the bushes. Presently twelve 
 spoonbills came flying thither, struck the moist earth, turned into 
 fair maidens, and began to bathe. The Prince stole the eldest 
 one's shift, and sat down behind a bush didn't budge an inch. 
 The girls finished bathing and came out on the shore : eleven of 
 them put on their shifts, turned into bircjs, and flew away home. 
 There remained only the eldest, Vasilissa the Wise. She began 
 praying and begging the good youth : 
 
 ' Do give me my shift ! ' she says. , c You are on your way to the 
 house of my father, the Water King. When you come I will do 
 you good service.' 
 
 So the Prince gave her back her shift, and she immediately 
 turned into a spoonbill and flew away after her companions. The 
 Prince went further on ; there met him by the way three heroes 
 Obedalo, Opivalo, and Moroz Treskun ; he took them with him 
 and went on to the Water King's. 
 
 The Water King saw him, and said : 
 
 ' Hail, friend ! why have you been so long in coming to me ? 
 I have grown weary of waiting for you. Now set to work. Here 
 is your first task. Build me in one night a great crystal bridge, so 
 that it shall be ready for use to-morrow. If you don't build it 
 off goes your head ! ' 
 
 The Prince went away from the Water King, and burst into a 
 
 1 Three of the well-known servants of Fortunatus. The eater-up (ob 1 egedaf 
 - to devour). The drinker-up (pi? = to drink, opivafsya to drink oneself to 
 death), and ' Crackling Frost.' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 127 
 
 flood of tears. Vasilissa the Wise opened the window of her 
 upper chamber, and asked : 
 
 1 What are you crying about, Prince ? ' 
 
 1 Ah ! Vasilissa the Wise ! how can I help crying ? Your 
 father has ordered me to build a crystal bridge in a single night, 
 and I don't even know how to handle an axe/ 
 
 ' No matter ! lie down and sleep ; the morning is wiser than 
 the evening.' 
 
 She ordered him to sleep, but she herself went out on the 
 steps, and called aloud with a mighty whistling cry. Then from 
 all sides there ran together carpenters and workmen j one levelled 
 the ground, another carried bricks. Soon had they built a crystal 
 bridge, and traced cunning devices on it ; and then they dispersed 
 to their homes. 
 
 Early next morning Vasilissa the Wise awoke the Prince : 
 
 ' Get up, Prince ! the bridge is ready : my father will be coming 
 to- inspect it directly.' 
 
 Up jumped the Prince, seized a broom, took his place on the 
 bridge, and'began sweeping here, clearing up there. 
 
 The Water King bestowed praise uponJiim : 
 
 i Thanks ! ' says he. * You've done me one service : now do 
 another. Here is your task. Plant me by to-morrow a garden 
 green a big and shady one ; and there must be birds singing in 
 the garden, and flowers blossoming on the trees, and ripe apples 
 and pears hanging from the boughs.' 
 
 Away went the Prince from the Water King, all dissolved in 
 tears. Vasilissa the Wise opened her window and asked : 
 
 ' What are you crying for, Prince ? ' 
 
 ' How can I help crying ? Your father has ordered me to plant 
 a garden in one night ! ' 
 
 1 That's nothing ! lie down and sleep : the morning is wiser 
 than the evening.' 
 
 She made him go to sleep, but she herself went out on the steps, 
 called and whistled with a mighty whistle. From every side there 
 ran together gardeners of all sorts, and they planted a garden green, 
 
128 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 and in the garden birds sang, on the trees flowers blossomed, from 
 the boughs hung ripe apples and pears. 
 
 Early in the morning Vasilissa the Wise awoke the Prince : 
 * Get up, Prince ! the garden is ready : Papa is coming to see it.' 
 
 The Prince immediately snatched up a broom, and was off to 
 the garden. Here he swept a path, there he trained a twig. 
 The Water King praised him and said. 
 
 4 Thanks, Prince ! You've done me right trusty service. So- 
 choose yourself a bride from among my twelve daughters. They 
 are all exactly alike in face, in hair, and in dress. If you can pick 
 out the same one three times running, she shall be your wife ; if you 
 fail to do so, I shall have you put to death.' 
 
 Vasilissa the Wise knew all about that, so she found time to 
 say to the Prince : 
 
 ' The first time I will wave my handkerchief, the second I will 
 be arranging my dress, the third time you will see a fly above my 
 head.' 
 
 And so the Prince guessed which was Vasilissa the Wise three 
 times running. And he and she were married, and a wedding feast 
 was got ready. 
 
 Now the Water King had prepared much food of all sorts, more 
 than a hundred men could get through. And he ordered his son- 
 in-law to see that everything was eaten. ' If anything remains 
 over, the worse for you ! ' says he. 
 
 ' My Father,' begs the Prince, ' there's an old fellow of mine 
 here ; please let him take a snack with us.' 
 
 1 Let him come ! ' 
 
 Immediately appeared Obedalo ate up everything, and wasn't 
 content then ! The Water King next set out two score tubs 
 of all kinds of strong drinks, and ordered his son-in-law to see that 
 they were all drained dry. 
 
 1 My Father! ' begs the Prince again, < there's another old man 
 of mine here ; let him, too, drink your health.' 
 
 1 Let him come ! ' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 129 
 
 Opivalo appeared, emptied all the forty tubs in a twinkling, 
 and then asked for a drop more by way of stirrup-cup. 1 
 
 The Water King saw that there was nothing to be gained that 
 way, so he gave orders to prepare a bath-room for the young couple 
 an iron bath-room and to heat it as hot as possible. So the 
 iron bath-room was made hot, Twelve loads of firewood were set 
 alight, and the stove and the walls were made red-hot impossible 
 to come within five versts of it. 
 
 1 My Father ! ' says the Prince ; ' let an old fellow of ours have 
 a scrub first, just to try the bath-room.' 
 
 1 Let him do so ! ' 
 
 Moroz Treskun went into the bath-room, blew into one corner, 
 blew into another in a moment icicles were hanging there. After 
 him the young couple also went into the bath-room, were lathered 
 and scrubbed, and then went home. 
 
 After a time Vasilissa said to the Prince, ' Let us get out of my 
 father's power. He's tremendously angry with you ; perhaps he'll 
 be doing you some hurt.' 
 
 ( Let us go,' says the Prince. 
 
 Straightway they saddled their horses and galloped oif into the 
 open plain. They rode and rode ; many an hour went by. 
 
 1 Jump down from your horse, Prince, and lay your ear close 
 to the earth,' said Vasilissa. ' Cannot you hear a sound as of pur- 
 suers ? ' 
 
 The Prince bent his ear to the ground, but he could hear no- 
 thing. Then Vasilissa herself lighted down from her good steed, 
 laid herself flat on the earth, and said : Ah Prince ! I hear a great 
 noise as of chasing after us.' Then she turned the horses into 
 a well, and herself into a bowl, and the Prince into an old, very old 
 man. Up came the pursuers. 
 
 1 Opokhmyelit 1 sya, which may be rendered, 'in order to drink off the 
 effects of the debauch.' 
 
 2 The Russian bath somewhat resembles the Turkish. The word here 
 translated 'to scrub,' properly means to rub and flog with the soft twigs used 
 in the baths for that purpose. At the end of the ceremonies attendant on a 
 Russian peasant wedding, the young couple always go to the bath. 
 
 K 
 
130 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 I Heigh, old man ! ' say they, ' haven't you seen a youth and a 
 maiden pass by?' 
 
 I 1 saw them, my friends ! only it was a long while ago. 
 I was a youngster at the time when they rode by/ 
 
 The pursuers returned to the Water King. 
 
 ' There is no trace of them/ they said, i no news : all we saw 
 was an old man beside a well, and a bowl floating on the water/ 
 
 ' Why did not ye seize them ? ' cried the Water King, who 
 thereupon put the pursuers to a cruel death, and sent another 
 troop after the Prince and Vasilissa the Wise. 
 
 The fugitives in the mean time had ridden far, far away. 
 Vasilissa the Wise heard the noise made by the fresh set of 
 pursuers, so she turned the Prince into an old priest, and she 
 herself became an ancient church. Scarcely did its walls hold 
 together, covered all over with moss. Presently up came the 
 pursuers. 
 
 i Heigh, old man ! haven't you seen a youth and a maiden 
 pass by ? ' 
 
 ' I saw them, my own ! only it was long, ever so long ago. I was 
 a young man when they rode by; it was just while I was building 
 this church/ 
 
 So the second set of pursuers returned to the Water King, saying : 
 
 'There is neither trace nor news of them, your Royal Majesty. 
 All that we saw was an old priest and an ancient church/ 
 
 ' Why did not ye seize them ? ' cried the Water King louder 
 than before, and having put the pursuers to a cruel death, he 
 galloped off himself in pursuit of the Prince and Vasilissa the 
 Wise. This time Vasilissa turned the horses into a river of honey 
 with kissel ! banks, and changed the Prince into a drake and her- 
 self into a grey duck. The Water King flung himself on the kissel 
 and honey-water, and ate and ate, and drank and drank, until he 
 burst ! And so he gave up the ghost. 
 
 The Prince and Vasilissa rode on, . and at length they drew 
 nigh to the home of the Prince's parents. Then said Vasilissa, 
 
 1 A sort of pudding or jelly. 
 
M YTHOL O GICA L 131 
 
 ' Go on in front, Prince, and report your arrival to your father 
 and mother. But I will wait for you here by the wayside. Only 
 remember these words of mine : kiss everyone else, only don't 
 kiss your sister ; if you do, you will forget me.' 
 
 The Prince reached home, began saluting every one, kissed 
 his sister too and no sooner had he kissed her than from that 
 very moment he forgot all about his wife, just as if she had never 
 entered into his mind. 
 
 Three days did Vasilissa the Wise await him. On the fourth 
 day she clad herself like a beggar, went into the capital, and took 
 up her quarters in an old woman's house. But the Prince was 
 preparing to marry a rich Princess, and orders were given to pro- 
 claim throughout the kingdom, that all Christian people were to 
 come to congratulate the bride and bridegroom, each one bringing 
 a wheaten pie as a present. Well, the old woman with whom 
 Vasilissa lodged, prepared, like everyone else, to sift flour and 
 make a pie. 
 
 { Why are you making a pie, granny ? ' asked Vasilissa. 
 
 'Is it why? you evidently don't know then. Our King \ is 
 giving his son in marriage to a rich princess : one must go to the 
 palace to serve up the dinner to the young couple.' 
 
 * Come now ! I, too, will bake a pie and take it to the palace ; 
 may be the King will make me some present.' 
 
 ' Bake away in God's name .! ' said the old woman. 
 
 Vasilissa took flour, kneaded dough, and made a pie. And 
 inside it she put some curds and a pair of live doves. 
 
 Well, the old woman and Vasilissa the Wise reached the palace 
 just at dinner-time. There a feast was in progress, one fit for all 
 the world to see. Vasilissa's pie was set on the table, but no 
 sooner was it cut in two than out of it flew the two doves. The 
 hen bird seized a piece of curd, and her mate said to her : 
 
 ' Give me some curds too, Dovey ! ' 
 
 1 No I won't,' replied the other dove : ' else you'd forget me, as 
 the Prince has forgotten his Vasilissa the Wise.' 
 
 Then the Prince remembered about his wife. He jumped up 
 
132 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 from table, caught her by her white hands, and seated her close by 
 his side. From that time forward they lived together in all happi- 
 ness and prosperity. 
 
 [With this story may be compared a multitude of tales in very many 
 languages. In German for instance, 'Der Konig vom goldenen Berg,' 
 (Grimm, KM. No. 92. See also Nos. 51, 56, 113, 181, and the opening of 
 No. 31), * Der Konigssohn und die Teufelstochter, ' (Haltrich, No. 26), and 
 ' Griinus Kravalle' (Wolf's 'Deutsche Hausmarchen,' No. 29) the Norse 
 * Mastermaid,' (Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 46, Dasent, No. n)and ' The three 
 Princesses of Whiteland,' (A. and M. No. 9, Dasent, No. 26) the Lithuanian 
 story (Schleicher, No. 26, p. 75) in which a * field-devil ' exacts from a farmer 
 the promise of a child the Wallachian stories (Schott, Nos. 2 and 15) in 
 which a devil obtains a like promise from a woodcutter and a fisherman 
 the Modern Greek (Hahn, Nos. 4, 5, 54, and 68) in which a child is promised 
 to a Dervish, a Drakos, the Devil, and a Demon and the Gaelic tales of ' The 
 Battle of the Birds' and 'The Sea-maiden,' (Campbell, Nos. 2 and 4) in 
 the former of which the child is promised to a Giant, in the latter to a Mermaid. 
 The likeness between the Russian story and the ' Battle of the Birds ' is very 
 striking, References to a great many other similar tales will be found in Grimm 
 (KM. iii. pp. 96-7, and 168-9). The group to which all these stories belong 
 is linked with a set of tales about a father who apprentices his son to a wizard, 
 sometimes to the Devil, from whom the youth escapes with great difficulty. 
 The principal Russian representative of the second set is called ' Eerie Art,' 
 'Khitraya Nauka,' (Afanasief, v. No. 22, vi. No. 45, viii. p. 339). 
 
 To the hero's adventures while with the Water King, and while escaping 
 from him, an important parallel is offered by the end of the already mentioned 
 (at p. 80) Indian story of Sringabhuja. That prince asks Agnisikha, the 
 Rakshasa whom, in his crane-form, he has wounded, to bestow upon him the 
 hand of his daughter the maiden who had met him on his arrival at the 
 Rakshasa' s palace. The demon pretends to consent, but only on condition 
 that the prince is able to pick out his love from among her numerous sisters. 
 This Sringabhuja is able to do in spite of all the demon's daughters being 
 exactly alike, as she has told him beforehand she will wear her pearls on her 
 brow instead of round her neck. Her father will not remark the change, she 
 says, for being of the demon race, he is not very sharp-witted. The Rakshasa 
 next sets the prince two of the usual tasks. He is to plough a great field, and 
 sow a hundred bushels of corn. When this, by the daughter's help, is done, 
 he is told to gather up the seed again. This also the demon's daughter does 
 for him, sending to his aid a countless swarm of ants. Lastly he is commanded 
 to visit the demon's brother and invite him to the wedding. He does so, and 
 is pursued by the invited guest, from whom he escapes only by throwing behind 
 him earth, water, thorns, and lastly fire, with all of which he has been provided 
 by his love. They produce corresponding obstacles which enable him to get 
 away from the uncle of his bride. The demon now believes that his proposed 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 133 
 
 son-in-law must be a god in disguise, so he gives his consent to the marriage. 
 All goes well for a time, but at last the prince wants to go home, so he and 
 his wife fly from her father's palace. Agnisikha pursues them. She makes 
 her husband invisible, while she assumes the form of a woodman. Up comes 
 her angry sire, and asks for news of the fugitives. She replies she has seen 
 none, her eyes being full of tears caused by the death of the Rakshasa prince 
 Agnisikha. The slow-witted demon immediately flies home to find out whether 
 he is really dead. Discovering that he is not, he renews the pursuit. Again 
 his daughter renders her husband invisible, and assumes the form of a messenger 
 carrying a letter. When her father arrives and repeats his question, she says 
 she has seen no one : she is going with a letter to his brother from Agnisikha, 
 who has just been mortally wounded. Back again home flies the demon in great 
 distress, anxious to find out whether he has really been wounded to death or not. 
 After settling this question he leaves his daughter and her husband in peace. 
 See Professor Brockhaus in the ' Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K. Sachs. 
 Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften, ' 1861, pp. 226-9, and Professor Wilson, 
 Essays, c.,' ii. p. 136-8. Cf. R. Kohler in ' Orient und Occident,' ii. pp. 
 107-14.] 
 
 In another story a king is out hunting and becomes thirsty. 
 Seeing a spring near at hand, he bends down and is just 
 going to lap up its water, when the Tsar-Medved, a King- 
 Bear, seizes him by the beard. The king is unable to free 
 himself from his grasp, and is obliged to promise as his 
 ransom ' that which he knows not of at home,' which turns 
 out to be a couple of children a boy and a girl who have 
 been born during his absence. In vain does he attempt to 
 save the twins from their impending fate, by concealing 
 them in a secret abode constructed for that purpose under- 
 ground. In the course of time the King-Bear arrives to 
 claim them, finds out their hiding-place, digs them up, and 
 carries them off on his back to a distant region where no 
 man lives. During his absence they attempt to escape, 
 being carried through. the air on the back of a friendly 
 falcon, but the King-Bear sees them, ' strikes his head against 
 the earth, and burns the falcon's wings.' The twins fall 
 to the ground, and are carried by the King-Bear to his 
 home amid inaccessible mountains. There they make a 
 
134 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 second attempt at escape, trusting this time to an eagle's 
 aid ; but it meets with exactly the same fate as their first 
 trial. At last they are rescued by a bull-calf, which suc- 
 ceeds in baffling all the King-Bear's efforts to recover them. 
 At the end of their perilous journey the bull-calf tells the 
 young prince to cut its throat, and burn its carcase. He 
 unwillingly consents, and from its ashes spring a horse, 
 a dog, and an apple-tree, all of which play important parts 
 in the next act of the drama. 1 
 
 In one of the variants of the Water King story, 2 the 
 seizer of the drinking king's beard is not called the Morskoi 
 Tsar but Chudo Morskoe, a Water Chudo, whose name re- 
 calls to mind the Chudo Yudo we have already met with. 3 
 The Prince who is obliged, in consequence of his father's 
 promise, to surrender himself to the Water 'Giant, falls in 
 love with a maiden whom he finds in that potentate's 
 palace, and who is an enchantress whom the Chudo has 
 stolen. She turns herself into a ring, which he carries 
 about with him, and eventually, after his escape from the 
 Chudo, she becomes his bride. 
 
 In another story, 4 the being who obtains a child from 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 28. In the preceding story, No. 27, the king 
 makes no promise. He hides his children in (or upon) a pillar, hoping 
 to conceal them from a devouring bear, whose fur is of iron. The bear finds 
 them and carries them off. A horse and some geese vainly attempt their 
 rescue : a bull-calf succeeds, as in the former case. In another variant the 
 enemy is an iron wolf. A king had promised his children a wolf. Unable 
 to find a live one, he had one made of iron and gave it to his children. After 
 a time it came to life and began destroying all it found, etc. An interesting 
 explanation of the stories of this class, in which they are treated as nature-myths, 
 is given by A. de Gubernatis in his ' Zoological Mythology,' chap. i. sect. 4. 
 
 2 Khudyakof, No. 17. 
 
 3 It has already been observed that the word chudo, which now means a 
 marvel or prodigy, formerly meant a giant. 
 
 4 Erlenvein, No. 6, pp. 30-32. The Russian word idol is identical with 
 our own adaptation of ei5\oj/. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 135 
 
 one of the incautious fathers of the Jephthah type who 
 abound in popular fiction, is of a very singular nature. A 
 merchant is flying across a river on the back of an eagle, 
 when he drops a magic ' snuff-box,' which had been en- 
 trusted to his charge by that bird, and it disappears beneath 
 the waters. At the eagle's command, the crayfish search for 
 it, and bring back word that it is lying ' on the knees of an 
 Idol.' The eagle summons the Idol, and demands the snuff- 
 box. Thereupon the Idol says to the merchant * Give me 
 what you do not know of at home ? ' The merchant agrees, 
 and the Idol gives him back his snuff-box. 
 
 In some of the variants of the story, the influence of 
 ideas connected with Christianity makes itself apparent in 
 the names given to the actors. Thus in the 'Moujik and 
 Anastasia Adovna,' 1 it is no longer a king of the waters, but 
 a ' devil's imp,' 2 who bargains with the thirsting father for 
 his child, and the swan-maiden whose shift the devoted 
 youth steals bears the name of Adovna, the daughter of 
 Ad or Hades. In 'The Youth,' 3 a moujik, who has lost his 
 way in a forest, makes the rash promise to a man who 
 enables him to cross a great river ; ' and that man (says the 
 story) was a devil.' 4 We shall meet with other instances 
 further on of parents whose ' hasty words ' condemn their 
 -children to captivity among evil spirits. In one of the 
 stories of this class, 5 the father is a hunter who is perishing 
 with cold one night, and who makes the usual promise as 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No 18. 
 
 2 Zhidenok, strictly the cub of a zhid, a word which properly means a Jew, 
 but is used here for a devil. 
 
 3 Khudyakof, No. 118. 
 
 4 Chart, a word which, as has been stated, sometimes means a demon, 
 sometimes the Devil. 
 
 5 Afanasief, viii. p. 343. 
 
136 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the condition of his being allowed to warm himself at a fire 
 guarded by a devil. Being in consequence of this deprived 
 of a son, he becomes very sad, and drinks himself to death. 
 * The priest will not bury his sinful body, so it is thrust into 
 a hole at a crossway/ and he falls into the power of ' that 
 very same devil/ who turns him into a horse, and uses him 
 as a beast of burden. At last he is released by his son, 
 who has forced the devil to free him after several adventures 
 one of them being a fight with the evil spirit in the shape 
 of a three-headed snake. 
 
 In the Hindoo story of ' Brave Seventee Bai/ l that hero- 
 ine kills ' a very large Cobra ' which comes out of a lake. 
 Touching the waters with a magic diamond taken from the 
 snake, she sees them roll back ' in a wall on either hand/ 
 between which she passes into a splendid garden. In it she 
 finds a lovely girl who proves to be the Cobra's daughter, 
 and who is delighted to hear of her serpent-father's death. 
 
 Demon-haunted waters, which prove fatal to mortals 
 who bathe in or drink of them, often occur in oriental 
 fiction. In one of the Indian stories, for instance, 2 a king is 
 induced to order his escort to bathe in a lake which is the 
 abode of a Rakshasa or demon. They leap into the water 
 simultaneously, and are all devoured by the terrible man- 
 eater. From the assaults of such a Rakshasa as this it was 
 that Buddha, who was at the time a monkey, preserved 
 himself and 80,000 of his brother monkeys, by suggesting 
 that they should drink from "the tank in which the demon 
 
 1 ' Old Deccan Days,' pp. 34-5. Compare with the conduct of the Cobra's 
 daughter that of Angaraka, the daughter of the Daitya who, under the form of 
 a wild boar, is chased underground by Chandasena. Brockhaus's ' Mahrchen- 
 sammlung des Somadeva Bhatta,' 1843, vol. i. pp. 110-13. 
 
 2 ' Panchatantra,' v. 10. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 137 
 
 lay in wait for them, ' through reeds previously made com- 
 pletely hollow by their breath.' l 
 
 From these male personifications of evil from the 
 Snake, Koshchei, and the Water King we will now turn to 
 their corresponding female forms. By far the most im- 
 portant beings of the latter class are those malevolent 
 enchantresses who form two closely related branches of the 
 same family. Like their sisters all over the world, they are, 
 as a general rule, old, hideous, and hateful. They possess 
 all kinds of supernatural powers, but their wits are often 
 dull. They wage constant war with mankind, but the 
 heroes of storyland find them as easily overcome as the 
 males of their family. In their general character they bear 
 a strong resemblance to the Giantesses, Lamias, female 
 Trolls, Ogresses, Dragonesses, &c. of Europe, but in some 
 of their traits they differ from those well-known beings, and 
 therefore they are worthy of a detailed notice. 
 
 In several of the stories which have already been 
 quoted, a prominent part is played by the Baba Yaga, a 
 female fiend whose name has given rise to much philo- 
 logical discussion of a somewhat unsatisfactory nature. 2 " 
 
 1 Upham's * Sacred and Historical Books of Ceylon,' iii. 287. 
 
 2 Afanasief says (P. V.S. iii. 588), 'As regards the wordjaga (}'?&, Polish 
 jcdza, jqdza, jedzi-baba, Slovak, jenzi, jenzi, jezi-baba, Bohemian, jezinka, 
 
 Galician yazya) it answers to the Sanskrit ahi = snake.' 
 
 Shchepkin (in his work on ' Russian Fable-lore,' p. 109) says : ' Yaga y 
 
 instead of yagaya, means properly noisy, scolding, and must be connected with 
 
 the rootyaga? = to brawl, to scold, still preserved in Siberia. The accuracy 
 
 A of this etymology is confirmed by the use, in the speech of the common people, 
 
 of the designation Yaga Baba for a quarrelsome, scolding old woman.' 
 
 Kastorsky, in his ' Slavonic Mythology,' p. 138, starts a theory of his own. 
 1 The name Yaga Baba, I take to "teyakaya baba, nyeyakaya baba, and I render 
 it by anus quadam* Bulgarin (Rossiya, ii. 322) refers the name to a Finnish 
 
138 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Her appearance is that of a tall, gaunt hag, with di- 
 sheVelled hair, Sometimes she is seen lying stretched out 
 from one corner to the other of a miserable hut, through 
 the ceiling of which passes her long iron nose ; the hut is 
 supported ' by fowl's legs/ and stands at the edge of a 
 forest towards which its entrance looks. When the proper 
 words are addressed to it, the hut revolves upon its slender 
 supports, so as to turn its back instead of its front to the 
 forest. Sometimes, as in the next story, the Baba Yaga 
 appears as the mistress of a mansion, which stands in a 
 courtyard enclosed by a fence made of dead men's bones. 
 When she goes abroad she rides in a mortar, which she 
 urges on with a pestle, while she sweeps away the traces of 
 her flight with a broom. She is closely connected with the 
 Snake in different forms ; in many stories, indeed, the 
 leading part has been ascribed by one narrator to a Snake 
 and by another to a Baba Yaga. She possesses the usual 
 magic apparatus by which enchantresses work their 
 wonders ; the Day and the Night (according to the following 
 story) are among her servants, the entire animal world lies 
 at her disposal. On the whole she is the most prominent 
 
 root. According to him, * Jagga-lewa, in Esthonian, means to quarrel or brawl, 
 jagga-lemine means quarrelling or brawling.' There is some similarity between 
 the Russian form of the word, and the Singalese name for a (male) demon, 
 yaka, which is derived from the Pali yakkho, as is the synonymous term yakseya 
 from the Sanskrit yaksha (see the valuable paper on Demonology in Ceylon by 
 Dandris de Silva Gooneratne Mod liar in the ' Journal of the Ceylon Branch of 
 the Royal Asiatic Society,' 18656). Some Slavonic philologists derive yaga from 
 a root meaning to eat (in Russian yes?}. This corresponds with the derivation of 
 the word yaksha contained in the following legend : ' The Vishnu Purana, i. 5, 
 narrates that they (the Yakshas) were produced by Brahma as beings emaciate 
 with hunger, of hideous aspect, and with long beards, and that, cry ing out " Let 
 us eat," they were denominated Yakshas (h.jaksh, to eat.)' Monier Williams's 
 ' Sanskrit Dictionary,' p. 80 1. In character the Yaga often resembles a 
 Rakshasi. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 139 
 
 among the strange figures with which the Skazkas make us 
 acquainted. Of the stories which especially relate to her 
 the following may be taken as a fair specimen. 
 
 THE BABA 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was an old couple. The husband lost 
 his wife and married again. But he had a daughter by the first 
 marriage, a young girl, and she found no favour in the eyes of her 
 evil step-mother, who used to beat her, and consider how she 
 could get her killed outright. One day the father went away 
 somewhere or other, so the stepmother said to the girl, ' Go to your 
 aunt, my sister, and ask her for a needle and thread to make 
 you a shift/ 
 
 Now that aunt was a Baba Yaga. Well, the girl was no fool, so 
 she went to a real aunt of hers first, and says she : 
 
 Good morning, auntie ! ' 
 
 ' Good morning, my dear ! what have you come for? ' 
 
 ' Mother has sent me to her sister,- to ask for a needle and 
 thread to make me a shift/ 
 
 Then her aunt instructed her what to do. ' There is a birch- 
 tree there, niece, which would hit you in the eye you must tie a 
 ribbon round it ; there are doors which would creak and bang 
 you must pour oil on their hinges ; there are dogs which would 
 tear you in pieces you must throw them these rolls ; there is a 
 cat which would scratch your eyes out you must give it a piece 
 of bacon.' 
 
 So the girl went away, and walked and walked, till she came 
 to the place. There stood a hut, and in it sat weaving the Baba 
 Yaga, the Bony-Shanks. 
 
 ' Good morning, auntie,' says the girl. 
 
 4 Good morning, my dear/ replies the Baba Yaga. 
 
 ( Mother has sent me to ask you for a needle and thread to 
 make me a shift.' 
 
 1 Afanasief, i. No. 3 b. From the Vcroneje Government. 
 
140 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 6 Very well ; sit down and weave a little in the meantime.' 
 
 So the girl sat down behind the loom, and the Baba Yaga 
 went outside, and said to her servant-maid : 
 
 * Go and heat the bath, and get my niece washed ; and mind 
 you look sharp after her. I want to breakfast off her/ 
 
 Well, the girl sat there in such a fright that she was as much 
 dead as alive. Presently she spoke imploringly to the servant- 
 maid, saying : 
 
 6 Kinswoman dear, do please wet the firewood instead of 
 making it burn ; and fetch the water for the bath in a sieve.' And 
 she made her a present of a handkerchief. 
 
 The Baba Yaga waited awhile ; then she came to the window 
 and asked : 
 
 ' Are you weaving, niece ? are you weaving, my dear ? ' 
 
 ' Oh yes, dear aunt, I'm weaving.' So the Baba Yaga went 
 away again, and the girl gave the Cat a piece of bacon, and 
 asked : 
 
 ' Is there no way of escaping from here ? ' 
 
 ' Here's a comb for you . and a towel,' said the Cat ; ' take 
 them, and be off. The Baba Yaga will pursue you, but you must 
 lay your ear on the ground, and when you hear that she is close 
 at hand, first of all throw down the towel. It will become a wide, 
 wide river. And if the Baba Yaga gets across the river, and tries 
 to catch you, then you must lay your ear on the ground again, and 
 when you hear that she is close at hand, throw down the comb. 
 It will become a dense, dense forest ; through that she won't be 
 able to force her way anyhow.' 
 
 The girl took the towel and the comb and fled. The dogs 
 would have rent her, but she threw them the rolls, and they let 
 her go by ; the doors would have begun to bang, but she poured 
 oil on their hinges, and they let her pass through ; the birch-tree 
 would have poked her eyes out, but she tied the ribbon around it, 
 and it let her pass on. And the Cat sat down to the loom, and 
 worked away ; muddled everything about, if it didn't do much 
 weaving. Up came the Baba Yaga to the window, and asked : 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 141 
 
 ' Are you weaving, niece ? are you weaving, my dear ? ' 
 
 * I'm weaving, dear aunt, I'm weaving/ gruffly replied the Cat. 
 
 The Baba Yaga rushed irlto the hut, saw that the girl was 
 gone, and took to beating the Cat, and abusing it for not having 
 scratched the girl's eyes out. * Long as I've served you,' said the 
 Cat, * you've never given me so much as a bone ; but she gave me 
 bacon/ Then the Baba Yaga pounced upon the dogs, on the 
 doors, on the birch-tree, and on the servant-maid, and set to 
 work to abuse them all, and to knock them about. Then the 
 dogs said to her, ' Long as we've served you, you've never so much 
 as pitched us a burnt crust ; but she gave us rolls to eat.' And 
 the doors said, ' Long as we've served you, you've never poured 
 even a drop of water on our hinges ; but she poured oil on us/ 
 The birch-tree said, ' Long as I've served you, you've never tied 
 a single thread round me ; but she fastened a ribbon around me.' 
 And the servant-maid said, 'Long as I've served you, you've 
 never given me so much as a rag ; but she gave me a hand- 
 kerchief.' 
 
 The Baba Yaga, bony of limb, quickly jumped into her 
 mortar, sent it flying along with the pestle, sweeping away the 
 while all traces of its flight with a broom, and set off in pursuit of 
 the girl. Then the girl put her ear to the gro'und, and when she 
 heard that the Baba Yaga was chasing her, and was now close at 
 hand, she flung down the towel. And it became a wide, such a 
 wide river ! Up came the Baba Yaga to the river, and gnashed 
 her teeth with spite ; then she went home for her oxen, and drove 
 them to the river. The oxen drank up every drop of the river, 
 and then the Baba Yaga began the pursuit anew. But the girl 
 put her ear to the ground again, and when she heard that the 
 Baba Yaga was near, she flung down the comb, and instantly a 
 forest sprang up, such an awfully thick one ! The Baba Yaga 
 began gnawing away at it, but however hard she worked, she 
 couldn't gnaw her way through it, so she had to go back again. 
 
 But by this time the girl's father had returned home, and he 
 asked : 
 
142 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 i Where's my daughter ? ' 
 
 * She's gone to her aunt's,' replied her stepmother. 
 Soon afterwards the girl herselfccame running home. 
 ' Where have you been ? ' asked her father. 
 
 { Ah, father ! ' she said, ' mother sent me to aunt's to ask for 
 a needle and thread to make me a shift. But aunt's a Baba 
 Yaga, and she wanted to eat me ! ' 
 
 * And how did you get away, daughter ? ' 
 
 1 Why like this,' said the girl, and explained the whole matter. 
 As soon as her father had heard all about it, he became wroth 
 with his wife, and shot her. But he and his daughter lived on 
 and flourished, and everything went well with them. 
 
 In one of the numerous variants of this story * the 
 heroine is sent by her husband's mother to the Baba Yaga's, 
 and the advice which saves her comes from her husband. 
 The Baba Yaga goes into another room 'in order to 
 sharpen her teeth,' and while she is engaged in that opera- 
 tion the girl escapes, having previously by the advice of 
 the Cat, to which she had given a lump of butter spat 
 under the threshold. The spittle answers for her in her 
 absence, behaving as do, in other folk-tales, drops of blood, 
 or rags dipped in blood, or apples, or eggs, or beans, or 
 stone images, or wooden puppets. 2 
 
 The magic comb and towel, by the aid of which the girl 
 effects her escape, constantly figure in Skazkas of this class, 
 and always produce the required effect. A brush, also, is 
 frequently introduced, from each bristle of which springs up 
 a wood. In one story, however, the brush gives rise to 
 mountains, and a golik, or bath-room-wisk, turns into a 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. 60. 
 
 2 See Grimm, KM. iii. 97-8. Cf. R. Kohler in ' Orient und Occident/ 
 ii. 112. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 143 
 
 forest The towel is used, also, for the purpose of con- 
 structing or annihilating a bridge. Similar instruments are 
 found in the folk-tales of every land, whether they appear 
 as the brush, comb, and mirror of the German water- 
 sprite ; T or the rod, stone, and pitcher of water of the- 
 Norse Troll ; 2 or the knife, comb, and handful of salt 
 which, in the Modern Greek story, save Asterinos and 
 Pulja from their fiendish mother ; 3 or the twig, the stone, 
 and the bladder of water, found in the ear of the filly,, 
 which saves her master from the Gaelic giant ; 4 or the 
 brush, comb, and egg, the last of which produces a frozen 
 lake with ' mirror-smooth ' surface, whereon the pursuing 
 Old-Prussian witch slips and breaks her neck ; 5 or the wand 
 which causes a river to flow and a mountain to rise 
 between the youth who waves it and the 'wicked old 
 Rakshas ' who chases him in the Deccan story ; 6 or the 
 handful of earth, cup of water, and dry sticks and match,, 
 which impede and finally destroy the Rakshasa in the 
 almost identical episode of Somadeva's tale of ' The Prince 
 of Varddhamana.' 7 
 
 In each instance they appear to typify the influence 
 which the supernatural beings to whom they belonged were 
 supposed to exercise over the elements. It has been 
 thought strange that such stress should be laid on the 
 employment of certain toilet-articles, to the use of which 
 
 (^ Grimm, No. 79. ' Die Wassernixe. ' 
 
 Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 14. Dasent, p. 362. 'The Widow's Son.' 
 
 Hahn, No. i. 
 
 Campbell's 'Tales of the West Highlands,' No. 2. 
 
 Toppen's ' Aberglauben aus Masuren,' p. 146. 
 
 Miss Frere's 'Old Deccan Days,' p. 63. 
 
 'Kathasaritsagara,' vii. ch. xxxix. Translated by Wilson, ' Essays,' ii. 
 137. Cf. Brockhausin the previously quoted 'Berichte,' 1861, p. 225-9. For 
 other forms, see R. Kohler in ' Orient und Occident,' vol. ii. p. 112. 
 
144 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the heroes of folk-tales do not appear to have been greatly 
 addicted. But it is evident that like produces like in the 
 transformations in question. In the oldest form of the 
 story, the Sanskrit, a handful of earth turns into a moun- 
 tain, a cup of water into a river. Now, metaphorically 
 speaking, a brush may be taken as a miniature wood ; the 
 common use of the term brushwood is a proof of the general 
 acceptance of the mefaplio"fr" ~FC comb does not at first 
 sight appear to resemble a mountain, but its indented out- 
 line may have struck the fancy of many primitive peoples 
 as being a likeness to a serrated mountain range. Thence 
 .comes it that in German Kamin means not only a comb 
 but also (like the Spanish Sierra) a mountain ridge or 
 
 jgrest 1 
 
 In one of the numerous stories 2 about the Baba Yaga, 
 four heroes are ^wandering about the world together, when 
 they come to a denseTorest in which a small izba, or hut, is 
 twirling round on ' a fowl's leg/ Ivan, the youngest of the 
 party, utters the magical formula ' Izbushka, Izbushka ! 
 
 ^tand with back to the forest and front towards us/ and 
 ' the hut faces towards them, its doors and windows open of 
 their own accord/ The heroes enter and find it empty. 
 One of the party then remains indoors, while the rest go 
 out to the chase. The hero who is left alone prepares a 
 meal, and then, ' after washing his head, sits down by the 
 window to comb his hair/ Suddenly a stone is lifted, and 
 from under it appears a Baba Yaga, driving in her mortar, 
 with a dog yelping at her heels. She enters the hut and, 
 after some short parley, seizes her pestle, and begins 
 
 1 See, however, Mr. Campbell's remarks on this subject, in ' Tales of the 
 West Highlands,' i. pp. Ixxvii-lxxxi. 
 
 2 Afanasief, viii. No. 6. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 145 
 
 beating the hero with it until he falls prostrate. Then she 
 cuts a strip out of his back, eats up the whole of the viands 
 he has prepared for his companions, and disappears. After 
 a time the beaten hero recovers his senses, ' ties up his head 
 with a handkerchief/ and sits groaning until his comrades 
 return. Then he makes some excuse for not having got 
 any supper ready for them, but says nothing about what 
 has really happened to him. 
 
 On the next day the second hero is treated in the same 
 manner by the Baba Yaga, and on the day after that the 
 third undergoes a similar humiliation. But on the fourth 
 day it falls to the lot of the young Ivan to stay in the hut 
 alone. The Baba Yaga appears as usual, and begins 
 thumping him with her pestle ; but he snatches it from her, 
 beats her almost to death with it, cuts three strips out of 
 her back, and then locks her up in a closet. When his 
 comrades return, they are surprised to find him unhurt, and 
 a meal prepared for them, but they ask no questions. 
 After supper they all take a bath, and then Ivan remarks 
 that each of his companions has had a strip cut out of his 
 back. This leads to a full confession, on hearing which 
 Ivan ' runs to the closet, takes those strips out of the Baba 
 Yaga, and applies them to their backs,' which immediately 
 become cured. He then hangs up the Baba Yaga by a 
 cord tied to one foot, at which cord all the party shoot. At 
 length it is severed, and she drops. As soon as she touches 
 the ground, she runs to the stone from under which she had 
 appeared, lifts it, and disappears. 1 
 
 The rest of the story is very similar to that of ' Norka/ 
 which has already been given, only instead of the beast of 
 that name we have the Baba Yaga, whom Ivan finds asleep, 
 
 1 See the third tale, of the 'SiddhiKiir,' Julg's 'Kalm. Marchen, ' pp. 17-19. 
 
 L 
 
I 4 6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 with a magic sword at her head. Following the advice of 
 her daughters, three fair maidens whom he meets in her 
 palace, Ivan does not attempt to touch the magic sword 
 while she sleeps. But he awakes her gently, and offers her 
 two golden apples on a silver dish. She lifts her head and 
 opens her mouth, whereupon he seizes the sword and cuts 
 her head off. As is usual in the stories of this class, his 
 comrades, after hoisting the maidens aloft, cut the cord 
 and let him fall back into the abyss. But he escapes, and 
 eventually ' he slays all the three heroes, and flings their 
 bodies on the plain for wild beasts to devour.' This 
 Skazka is one of the many versions of a widespread tale, 
 which tells how the youngest of a party, usually consist- 
 ing of three persons, overcomes some supernatural foe, 
 generally a dwarf, who had been more than a match for his 
 companions. The most important of these versions is the 
 Lithuanian story of the carpenter who overcomes a Laume 
 a being in many respects akin to the Baba Yaga who has 
 proved too strong for his comrades, Perkun and the Devil. 1 
 ,The practice of cutting strips from an enemy's back is 
 frequently referred to in the Skazkas much more fre- 
 quently than in the German and Norse stories. It is not 
 often that such strips are turned to good account, but in the 
 Skazka with which we have just been dealing, Ivan, finding 
 the rope by which he is being lowered into the abyss too 
 short, ties to the end of it the three strips he has cut from 
 the Baba Yaga's back, and so makes it sufficiently long. 
 They are often exacted as the penalty of losing a wager, 
 
 1 Schleicher's * Litauische Marchen,' No. 39. (I have given an analysis 
 of the story in the * Songs of the Russian People,' p. 101). In the variant of 
 the story in No. 38, the comrades are the hero Martin, a smith, and a tailor. 
 Their supernatural foe is a small gnome with a very long beard. He 
 closely resembles the German * Erdmanneken ' (Grimm, No. 91), and the 
 'Mannchen,' in 'Der stark e Hans' (Grimm, No. 166). 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 147 
 
 as well in the Skazkas as elsewhere. 1 In a West-Slavonian 
 story about a wager of this kind, the winner cuts off the 
 loser's nose. 2 In the Gaelic stories it is not an uncommon 
 incident for a man to have ' a strip of skin cut off him from 
 his crown to his sole.' 3 
 
 The Baba Yaga generally kills people in order to eat 
 them. Her house is fenced about with the bones of the 
 men whose flesh she has devoured ; in one story she offers 
 a human arm, by way of a meal, to a girl who visits her. 
 But she is also represented in one of the stories 4 as petrify- 
 ing her victims. This trait connects her with Medusa, and 
 the three sister Baba Yagas with the three Gorgones. The 
 Russian Gorgo's method of petrifaction is singular. In the 
 story referred to, Ivan Devich (Ivan the servantmaid's son) 
 meets a Baba Yaga, who plucks one of her hairs, gives it to 
 him, and says, ' Tie three knots and then blow.' He does so, 
 and both he and his horse turn into stone. The Baba Yaga 
 places them in her mortar, pounds them to bits, and buries 
 their remains under a stone. A little later comes Ivan 
 Devich's comrade, Prince Ivan. Him also the Yaga 
 attempts to destroy, but he feigns ignorance, and persuades 
 her to show him how to tie knots and to blow. The result 
 is that she becomes petrified herself. Prince Ivan puts her 
 in her own mortar, and proceeds to pound her therein, until 
 she tells him where the fragments of his comrade are, and 
 what he must do to restore them to life. 
 
 The Baba Yaga usually lives by herself, but sometimes 
 she appears in the character of the house-mother. One of 
 
 1 Hahn, No. u. Schleicher, No. 20, &c., &c. 2 Wenzig, No. 2. 
 
 3 ' Tales of the West Highlands,' ii. p. 15. Mr. Campbell says, ' I believe 
 such a mode of torture can be traced amongst the Scandinavians, who once 
 owned the Western Islands.' But the Gaelic 'Binding ojf the Three Smalls,' 
 is unknown to the Skazkas. * Erlenvein, No. 3. 
 
 L 2 
 
148 AUSS7AN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the Skazkas 1 relates how a certain old-couple, who had no 
 children, were advised to get a number of eggs from the 
 village one from each house and to place them under a 
 sitting hen. From the forty-one eggs thus obtained and 
 treated are born as many boys, all but one of whom 
 develop into strong men, but the forty-first long remains 
 a poor weak creature, a kind of ' Hop-o'-my-thumb.' 
 They all set forth to seek brides, and eventually marry 
 the forty-one daughters of a Baba Yaga. On the wedding 
 night she intends to kill her sons-in-law ; but they, acting 
 on the advice of him who had been the weakling of their 
 party, but who has become a mighty hero, exchange 
 clothes with their brides before 'lying down to sleep.' 
 Accordingly the Baba Yaga's ' trusty servants ' cut off the 
 heads of her daughters instead of those of her sons-in-law. 
 Those youths arise, stick the heads of their brides on iron 
 spikes all round the house, and gallop away. When the 
 Baba Yaga awakes in the morning, looks out of window, 
 and sees her daughters' heads on their spikes, she flies into 
 a passion, calls for ' her burning shield,' sets off in pursuit 
 of her sons-in-law, and ' begins burning up everything on 
 all four sides with her shield.' A magic, bridge-creating 
 kerchief, however, enables the fugitives to escape from their 
 irritated mother-in-law. 
 
 In one story l the heroine is ordered to swing the cradle 
 in which reposes a Baba Yaga's infant son, whom she is 
 ordered to address in terms of respect when she sings him 
 lullabies ; in others she is told to wash a Baba Yaga's many 
 children, whose appearance is usually unprepossessing. 
 One girl, for instance, is ordered by a Baba Yaga to 
 heat the bath, but the fuel given her for the purpose turns 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 30. 2 Khudyakof, No. 97. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 149 
 
 out to be dead men's bones. Having got over this diffi- 
 culty, thanks to the advice of a sparrow which tells her 
 here to look for wood, she is sent to fetch water in a 
 sieve. Again the sparrow comes to her rescue, telling her 
 to line the sieve with clay. Then she is told to wait upon 
 the Baba Yaga's children in the bath-room. She enters it, 
 and presently in come ' worms, frogs, rats, and all sorts of 
 insects/ These, which are the Baba Yaga's children, she 
 soaps over and otherwise treats in the approved Russian- 
 bath style, and afterwards she does as much for their mother. 
 The Baba Yaga is highly pleased, calls for a ' samovar ' 
 (or urn), and invites her young bath-woman to drink tea 
 with her. And finally she sends her home with a blue coffer, 
 which turns out to be full of money. This present excites 
 the cupidity of her stepmother, who sends her own daughter 
 to the Baba Yaga's, hoping that she will bring back a 
 similar treasure. The Baba Yaga gives the same orders as 
 before to the new-comer, but that conceited young person 
 fails to carry them out. She cannot make the bones burn, 
 nor the sieve hold water, but when the sparrow offers its 
 advice she only boxes its ears. And when the ' rats, frogs, 
 and- all manner of vermin/ enter the bath-room, ' she 
 crushed half of them to death,' says the story ; ' the rest 
 ran home, and complained about her to their mother. 
 And so the Baba Yaga, when she dismisses her, gives her 
 a red coffer instead of a blue one. Out of it, when it is 
 opened, issues fire, which consumes both her and her 
 mother. 1 
 
 Similar to this story in many of its features as well as 
 in its catastrophe is one of the most spirited and dramatic 
 of all the Skazkas, that of 
 
 1 Khuclyakof, Xo. 14. Erlenvein, No. 9. 
 
ISO RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 VASILISSA THE FAIR. 1 
 
 IN a certain kingdom there lived a merchant. Twelve years did he 
 live as a married man, but he had only one child, Vasilissa the 
 Fair. When her mother died, the girl was eight years old. And 
 on her deathbed the merchant's wife called her little daughter to 
 her, took out from under the bed-clothes a doll, gave it to her, 
 and said, * Listen, Vasilissa, dear ; remember and obey these last 
 words of mine. I am going to die. And now, together with my 
 parental blessing, I bequeath to you this doll. Keep it always by 
 you, and never show it to anybody ; and whenever any misfortune 
 comes upon you, give the doll food, and ask its advice. When it 
 has fed, it will tell you a cure for your troubles.' Then the 
 mother kissed her child and died. 
 
 After his wife's death, the merchant mourned for her a befitting 
 time, and then began to consider about marrying again. He was 
 a man of means. It wasn't a question with him of girls (with 
 dowries) ; more than all others, a certain widow took his fancy. 
 She was middle-aged, and had a couple of daughters of her own, 
 just about the same age as Vasilissa. She must needs be both a 
 good housekeeper and an experienced mother. 
 
 Well, the merchant married the widow, but he had deceived 
 himself, for he did not find in her a kind mother for his Vasilissa. 
 Vasilissa was the prettiest girl 2 in all the village ; but her stepmother 
 and stepsisters were jealous of her beauty, and tormented her with 
 every possible sort of toil, in order that she might grow thin from 
 over-work, and be tanned by the sun and the wind. Her life was 
 made a burden to her ! Vasilissa bore everything with resigna- 
 tion, and every day grew plumper and prettier, while the 
 stepmother and her daughters lost flesh and fell off in appear- 
 ance from the effects of their own spite, notwithstanding that they 
 always sat with folded hands like fine ladies. 
 
 1 Afanasief, iv. No. 44. 3 ' The first krasavitsa or beauty.' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 151 
 
 But how did that come about? Why, it was her doll that 
 helped Vasilissa. If it hadn't been for it, however could the girl 
 have got through all her work? And therefore it was that 
 Vasilissa would never eat all her share of a meal, but always kept 
 the most delicate morsel for her doll ; and at night, when all were 
 at rest, she would shut herself up in the narrow chamber l in which 
 she slept, and feast her doll, saying 2 the while : 
 
 4 There, dolly, feed ; help me in my need ! I live in my 
 father's house, but never know what pleasure is ; my evil step- 
 mother tries to drive me out of the white world ; teach me how to 
 keep alive, and what I ought to do/ 
 
 Then the doll would eat, and afterwards give her advice, and 
 comfort her in her sorrow, and next day it would do all Vasilissa's 
 work for her. She had only to take her ease in a shady place 
 and pluck flowers, and yet all her work was done in good time ; 
 the beds were weeded, and the pails were filled, and the cabbages 
 were watered, and the stove was heated. Moreover, the doll 
 showed Vasilissa herbs which prevented her from getting sunburnt 
 Happily did she and her doll live together. 
 
 Several years went by. Vasilissa grew up and became old 
 enough to be married. 3 All the marriageable young men in the 
 town sent to make an oifer to Vasilissa ; at her stepmother's 
 daughters not a soul would so much as look. Her stepmother 
 .grew even more savage than before, and replied to every suitor 
 
 * We won't let the younger marry before her elders.' 
 
 And after the suitors had been packed off, she used to beat 
 Vasilissa by way of wreaking her spite. 
 
 Well, it happened one day that the merchant had to go away 
 from home on business for a long time. Thereupon the step- 
 
 1 Chulanchik. The chulan is a kind of closet, generally used as a store- 
 room for provisions, &c. 
 
 2 Prigovarivaya, the word generally used to express the action of a person 
 who utters a charm accompanied by a gesture of the hand or finger. 
 
 3 Became a nevyesta, a word meaning a marriageable maiden,' or 'a 
 betrothed girl,' or ' a bride.' 
 
152 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 mother went to live in another house ; and near that house was a 
 dense forest, and in a clearing in that forest there stood a hut, 1 
 and in the hut there lived a Baba Y^ga. She never let anyone 
 come near her dwelling, and she ate up people like so many 
 chickens. 
 
 v Having moved into the new abode, the merchant's wife kept 
 sending her hated Vasilissa into the forest on one pretence or 
 another. But the girl always got home safe and sound \ the doll 
 used to show her the way, and never let her go near the Baba 
 Yaga's dwelling. 
 
 The autumn season arrived. One evening the stepmother gave 
 out their work to the three girls - r one she set to lace-making, 
 another to knitting socks, and the third, Vasilissa, to weaving ; 
 and each of them had her allotted amount to do. By-and-by she 
 put out the lights in the house, leaving only one candle alight 
 where the girls were working, and then she went to bed. The 
 girls worked and worked. Presently the candle wanted snuffing ; 
 one of the stepdaughters took the snuffers, as if she were going 
 to clear the wick, but instead of doing so, in obedience to her 
 mother's orders, she snuffed the candle out, pretending to do so 
 by accident. 
 
 ' What shall we do now ? ' said the girls. ' There isn't a spark 
 of fire in the house, and our tasks are not yet done. We must go 
 to the Baba Yaga's for a light ! ' 
 
 ' My pins give me light enough,' said the one who was making 
 lace. * I shan't go.' 
 
 ' And I shan't go, either/ said the one who was knitting socks. 
 1 My knitting-needles give me light enough.' 
 
 ' Vasilissa, you must go for the light/ they both cried out 
 together ; < be off to the Baba Yaga's ! ' 
 
 And they pushed Vasilissa out of the room. 
 
 Vasilissa went into her little closet, set before the doll a supper 
 which she had provided beforehand, and said : 
 
 .) a little izba or cottage. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 153 
 
 ' Now, dolly, feed, and listen to my, need ! I'm sent to the 
 Baba Yaga's for a light. The Baba Yaga will eat me ! ' 
 
 The doll fed, and its eyes began to glow just like a couple of 
 candles. 
 
 * Never fear, Vasilissa dear ! ' it said. ' Go where you're sent. 
 Only take care to keep me always by you. As long as I'm with 
 you, no harm will come to you at the Baba Yaga's.' 
 
 So Vasilissa got ready, put her doll in her pocket, crossed 
 herself, and went out into the thick forest 
 
 As she walks she trembles. Suddenly a horseman gallops by. 
 He is white, and he is dressed in white, under him is a white 
 horse, and the trappings of the, horse are white and the day 
 begins to break. 
 
 She goes a little further, and a second rider gallops by. He 
 is red, dressed in red, and sitting on a red horse and the sun 
 rises. 
 
 Vasilissa went on walking all night and all next day. It was 
 only towards the evening that she reached the clearing on which 
 stood the dwelling of the Baba Yaga. The fence around it was 
 made of dead men's bones ; on the top of the fence were stuck 
 human skulls with eyes in them ; instead of uprights at the gates 
 were men's legs ; instead of bolts were arms ; instead of a lock 
 was a mouth with sharp teeth. 
 
 Vasilissa was frightened out of her wits/ and stood still as if 
 rooted to the ground. 
 
 Suddenly there rode past another. horseman. He was black, 
 dressed all in black,. and on a black horse. He galloped up to 
 the Baba Yaga's gate and disappeared, just as if he had sunk 
 through the ground and night fell. But the darkness did not 
 last long. The eyes of all the skulls on the fence began to shine, 
 and the whole clearing became as bright as if it had been midday. 
 Vasilissa shuddered with fear, but stopped where she was, not 
 knowing which way to run. 
 
 Soon there was heard in the forest a terrible roar. The trees 
 cracked, the dry leaves rustled ; out of the forest came the Baba 
 
154 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Yaga, riding in a mortar, urging it on with a pestle, sweeping 
 away her traces with a broom. Up she drove to the gate, stopped 
 short, and, snuffing the air around her, cried : 
 
 ' Faugh ! Faugh ! I smell Russian flesh I 1 Who's there ? 
 
 Vasilissa went up to the hag in a terrible fright, bowed low 
 before her, and said : 
 
 ' It's me, granny. My stepsisters have sent me to you for a 
 light.' 
 
 ' Very good,' said the Baba Yaga ; c I know them. If you'll 
 stop awhile with me first, and do some work for me, I'll give you 
 .a light. But if you won't, I'll eat you ! ' 
 
 Then she turned to the gates, and cried : 
 
 * Ho, thou firm fence of mine, be thou divided ! And ye, 
 wide gates of mine, do ye fly open ! ' 
 
 The gates opened, and the Baba Yaga drove in, whistling as 
 she went, and after her followed Vasilissa ; and then everything 
 shut to again. When they entered the sitting-room, the Baba 
 Yaga stretched herself out at full length, and said to Vasilissa : 
 
 ( Fetch out what there is in the oven ; I'm hungry.' 
 
 Vasilissa lighted a splinter 2 at one of the skulls which were on 
 the fence, and began fetching meat from the oven and setting it 
 before the Baba Yaga ; and meat enougK had been provided for 
 a dozen people. Then she fetched from the cellar kvass, mead, 
 beer, and wine. The hag ate up everything, drank up every- 
 thing. All she left for Vasilissa was a few scraps a crust of bread 
 .and a morsel of sucking-pig. Then the Baba Yaga lay down to 
 sleep, saying : 
 
 ' When I go out to-morrow morning, mind you cleanse the 
 courtyard, sweep the room, cook the dinner, and get the linen 
 ready. Then go to the corn-bin, take out four quarters of wheat, 
 and clear it of other seed. 3 And mind you have it all done if 
 you don't, I shall eat you ! ' 
 
 1 ' Phu, Phu ! there is a Russian smell ! ' the equivalent of our own * Fee, 
 faw, fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman ! ' 
 
 2 Luc/ana, a deal splinter used instead of a candle. 
 8 Chernushkci) a sort of wild pea. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 155 
 
 After giving these orders the Baba Yaga began to snore. But 
 Vasilissa set the remnants of the hag's supper before her doll, 
 burst into tears, and said : 
 
 ' Now, dolly, feed, listen to my need ! The Baba Yaga has 
 set me a heavy task, and threatens to eat me if I don't do it all. 
 Do help me ! ' 
 
 The doll replied : 
 
 ' Never fear, Vasilissa the Fair ! Sup, say your prayers, and 
 go to bed. The morning is wiser than the evening ! ' 
 
 Vasilissa awoke very early, but the Baba Yaga was already up. 
 She looked out of window. The light in the skulls' eyes was going 
 out. All of a sudden there appeared the white horseman, and all 
 ras light. The Baba Yaga went out into the courtyard and 
 whistled before her appeared a mortar with a pestle and a broom, 
 red horseman appeared the sun rose. The Baba Yaga seated 
 icrself in the mortar, and drove out of the courtyard, shooting 
 lerself along with the pestle, sweeping away her traces -with the 
 room. 
 
 Vasilissa was left alone, so she examined the Baba Yaga's 
 house, wondered at the abundance there was in everything, and 
 remained lost in thought as to which work she ought to take to 
 first. She looked up ; all her work was done already. The doll 
 had cleared the wheat to the very last grain. 
 
 ' Ah, my preserver ! ' cried Vasilissa, * you've saved me from 
 danger ! ' 
 
 i All you've got to do now is to cook the dinner,' answered the 
 doll, slipping into Vasilissa's pocket. ' Cook away, in God's 
 name, and then take some rest for your health's sake ! ' 
 
 Towards evening Vasilissa got the table ready, and awaited the 
 Baba Yaga. It began to grow dusky ; the black rider appeared for 
 a moment at the gate, and all grew dark. Only the eyes of the 
 skulls sent forth their light. The trees began to crack, the leaves 
 began to rustle, up drove the Baba Yaga. Vasilissa went out to 
 meet her. 
 
 * Is everything done ? ' asks the Yaga. 
 
 
156 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 < Please to look for yourself, granny ! ' says Vasilissa. 
 The Baba Yaga examined everything, was vexed that there was 
 nothing to be angry about, and said : 
 4 Well, well! very good !' 
 Afterwards she cried : 
 
 * My trusty servants, zealous friends, grind this my wheat 1 ' 
 There appeared three pairs of hands, which gathered up the 
 
 wheat, and carried it out of sight. The Baba Yaga supped, went 
 to bed, and again gave her orders to Vasilissa : 
 
 * Do just the same to-morrow as to-day ; only besides that take 
 out of the bin the poppy seed that is there, and clean the earth off it 
 grain by grain. Some one or other, you see, has mixed a lot of earth 
 with it out of spite.' Having said this, the hag turned to the wall 
 and began to snore, and Vasilissa took to feeding her doll. The 
 doll fed, and then said to her what it had said the day before : 
 
 I Pray to God, and go to sleep. The morning is wiser than the 
 evening. All shall be done, Vasilissa dear ! ' 
 
 The next morning the Baba Yaga again drove out of the court- 
 yard in her mortar, and Vasilissa and her doll immediately did all 
 the work. The hag returned, looked at everything, and cried, 
 'My trusty servants, zealous friends, press forth oil from the 
 poppy seed ! ' 
 
 Three pairs of hands appeared, gathered up the poppy seed, and 
 bore it out of sight. The Baba Yaga sat down to dinner. She 
 ate, but Vasilissa stood silently by. 
 
 ' Why don't you speak to me ? ' said the Baba Yaga ; < there 
 you stand like a dumb creature ! ' 
 
 ' I didn't dare,' answered Vasilissa ; ' but if you give me leave, I 
 should like to ask you about something.' 
 
 'Ask away; only it isn't every question that brings good. 
 " Get much to know, and old soon you'll grow." ' 
 
 I 1 only want to ask you, granny, about something I saw. As 
 I was coming here, I was passed by one riding on a white horse ; 
 he was white himself, and dressed in white. Who was he ?' 
 
 * That was my bright Day ! ' answered the Baba Yaga. 
 
L 
 
 . 
 
 MYTHOLOGICAL 157 
 
 * Afterwards there passed me another rider, on a red horse; 
 red himself, and all in red clothes. Who was he?' 
 
 ' That was my red Sun I' 1 answered the Baba Yaga. 
 
 ' And who may be the black rider, granny, who passed by me 
 just at your gate?' 
 
 1 That was my dark Night; they are all trusty servants of mine.' 
 
 Vasilissa thought of the three pairs of hands, but held her 
 peace. 
 
 1 Why don't you go on asking ? ' said the Baba Yaga. 
 
 * That's enough for me, granny. You said yourself, " Get too 
 much to know, old you'll grow ! " ' 
 
 1 It's just as well,' said the Baba Yaga, ' that you've only asked 
 .bout what you saw out of doors, not indoors ! In my house I 
 hate having dirt carried out of doors ; 2 and as to over inquisitive 
 people well, I eat them. Now I'll ask you something. How is 
 it you manage to do the work I set you to do?' 
 
 1 My mother's blessing assists me,' replied Vasilissa. 
 
 ' Eh ! eh ! what's that ? Get along out of my house, you bless'd 
 daughter. I don't want bless'd people.' 
 
 She dragged Vasilissa out of the room, pushed her outside the 
 gates, took one of the skulls with blazing eyes from the fence, 
 stuck" it on a stick, gave it to her, and sftid : 
 
 ' Lay hold of that. It's a light you can take to your step- 
 sisters. That's what they sent you here for, I believe.' 
 
 Home went Vasilissa at a run, lit by the skull, which went out 
 only at the approach of the dawn ; and at last, on the evening of 
 the second day, she reached home. When she came to the gate, 
 she was going to throw away the skull. 
 
 ' Surely,' thinks she, * they can't be still in want of a light at 
 home.' But suddenly a hollow voice issued from the skull, 
 saying : 
 
 ' Throw me not away. Carry me to your stepmother !' 
 
 1 Krasnoe sol nuischko, red (or fair) dear-sun. 
 
 2 Equivalent to saying ' she liked to wash her dirty linen at home. 
 
 
158 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 She looked at her stepmother's house, and not seeing a light in 
 a single window, she determined to take the skull in there with 
 her. For the first time in her life she was cordially received by 
 her stepmother and stepsisters, who told her that from the mo- 
 ment she went away they hadn't had a spark of fire in the house. 
 They couldn't strike a light themselves anyhow, and whenever 
 they brought one in from a neighbour's, it went out as soon as 
 it came into the room. 
 
 4 Perhaps your light will keep in ! ' said the stepmother. So 
 they carried the skull into the sitting-room. But the eyes of the 
 skull so glared at the stepmother and her daughters shot forth 
 such flames ! They would fain have hidden themselves, but run 
 where they would, everywhere did the eyes follow after them. By 
 the morning they were utterly burnt to cinders. Only Vasilissa 
 was none the worse. l 
 
 [Next morning Vasilissa ' buried the skull, ' locked up the house, and took 
 up her quarters in a neighbouring town. After a time she began to work. 
 Her doll made her a glorious loom, and by the end of the winter she had 
 weaved a quantity of linen so fine that it might be passed like thread through 
 the eye of a needle. In the spring, after it had been bleached, Vasilissa made 
 a present of it to the old woman with Avhom she lodged. The crone presented 
 it to the king, who ordered it to be made into shirts. But no sempstress could 
 be found to make them up, until the linen was entrusted to Vasilissa. When 
 a dozen shirts were ready, Vasilissa sent them to the king, and as soon as her 
 carrier had started, ' she washed herself, and combed her hair, and dressed 
 ..herself, and sat down at the window.' Before long there arrived a messenger 
 demanding her instant appearance at court. And ' when she appeared before 
 the royal eyes,' the king fell desperately in love with her. 
 
 ' No, my beauty ! ' said he, ' never will I part with thee ; thou shalt be my 
 wife.' So he married her ; and by-and-by her father returned, and took up his 
 abode with her. * And Vasilissa took the old woman into her service, and 
 as for the doll to the end of her life she always carried it in her pocket.'] 
 
 The puppet which plays so important a part in this 
 story is worthy of a special examination. It is called in 
 
 1 I break off the narrative at this point, because what follows is inferior in 
 dramatic interest, and I am afraid of diminishing the reader's admiration for one 
 of the best folk-tales I know. But I give an epitome of the remainder within 
 brackets and in small type. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 159. 
 
 the original a Kiikla (dim. Kitkolkci), a word designating, 
 any sort of puppet or other figure representing either man 
 or beast. In a Little-Russian variant * of one of those 
 numerous stories, current in all lands, which commence with 
 the escape of the heroine from an incestuous union, a priest 
 insists on marrying his daughter. She goes to her mother's 
 grave and weeps there. Her dead mother ' comes out from 
 her grave,' and tells her what to do. The girl obtains from 
 her father a rough dress of pig's skin, and two sets of 
 gorgeous apparel ; the former she herself assumes, in the 
 latter she dresses up three Kuklui, which in this instance 
 were probably mere blocks of wood. Then she takes her 
 place in the midst of the dressed-up forms, which cry, one 
 after the other, ' Open, O moist earth, that the fair 
 maiden may enter within thee ! ' The earth opens, and all 
 four sink into it. 
 
 This introduction is almost identical with that prefixed 
 to the German story of ' Allerleirauh,' 2 except in so far as 
 the puppets are concerned.* 
 
 Sometimes it is a brother, instead of a father, from 
 whom the heroine is forced to flee. Thus in the story of 
 Kniaz Danila Govorila? Prince Daniel the Talker is 
 bent upon marrying his sister, pleading the excuse so .often 
 given in stories on this theme, namely, that she is the only 
 
 1 From the Poltava Government. Afanasief, vi. No. 28 b. 
 
 2 Grimm, No. 65. The Wallachian and Lithuanian forms resemble the 
 German (Schott, No. 3. Schleicher, No. 7). In all of them, the heroine is a 
 princess, who runs away from an unnatural father. In one of the Modem 
 Greek versions (Hahn, No. 27), she sinks into the earth. For references to 
 seven other forms of the story, see Grimm, K.M., iii. p. 116. In one Russian 
 variant (Khudyakof, No. 54), she hides in a secret drawer, constructed for 
 the purpose ;in a bedstead ; in another (Afanasief, vi. No. 28 a), her father, 
 not recognising her in the pig-skin dress, spits at her, and turns her out of the 
 house. In a third, which is of a very repulsive character (ibid. vii. No. 29), the . 
 father kills his daughter. 
 
 3 Afanasief, vi. No. 18. 
 
160 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 maiden whose finger will fit the magic ring which is to indi- 
 cate to him his destined wife. While she is weeping c like 
 a river/ some old women of the mendicant-pilgrim class 
 come to her rescue, telling her to make four Ktikolki, or 
 small puppets, and to place one of them in each corner of 
 her room. She does as they tell her. The wedding day 
 arrives, the marriage service is performed in the church, 
 and then the bride hastens back to the room. When she 
 is called for says the story the puppets in the four 
 corners begin to coo. 1 
 
 * Kuku ! Prince Danila ! 
 ''" Kuku ! Govorila ! 
 
 * Kuku ! He wants to marry, 
 
 * Kuku ! His own sister. 
 
 < Kuku ! Split open, O Earth ! 
 
 ' Kuku ! Sister, disappear ! ' 
 
 The earth opens, and the girl slowly sinks into it. 
 'Twice again the puppets sing their song, and at the end of 
 its third performance, the earth closes over the head of the 
 rescued bride. Presently in rushes the" irritated bridegroom. 
 ' No bride is to be seen ; only in the corners sit the puppets, 
 singing away to themselves.' He flies into a passion, seizes 
 a hatchet, chops off their heads, and flings them into the 
 fire. 2 
 
 1 The. Russian word is zakukovali, i.e., 'they began to cuckoo.' The 
 resemblance between the word kukla, a puppet, and the name and cry of the 
 cuckoo (Kukushka) may be merely accidental, but that bird has a marked mytho- 
 logical character. See the account of the rite called ' the Christening of the 
 Cuckoos,' in 'Songs of the Russian People,' p. 215. 
 
 2 Very like these puppets are the, images which reply for the sleeping 
 prince in the opening scene of 'De beiden Kiinigeskinner' (Grimm, No. 113). 
 A'doll playsan important part in one of Straparola's stories (Night v. Fable 2). 
 Professor de Gubernatis identifies the Russian puppet with 'the moon, the 
 Veclic Raka, very small, but very intelligent, enclosed in the wooden dress, in 
 the forest of night.' 'Zoological Mythology,' i. 207-8 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 161 
 
 In another version of the same story l a son is ordered 
 by his parents to marry his sister after their death. They 
 die, and he tells her to get ready to be married. But she 
 has prepared three puppets, and when she goes into her 
 room to dress for the wedding, she says to them : 
 
 ' O Kukolki, (cry) Kuku ! ' 
 
 The first asks, 'Why?' 
 
 The second replies, ' Because the brother his sister 
 takes.' 
 
 The third says, ' Split open, O Earth ! disappear O 
 sister ! ' 
 
 All this is said three times, and then the earth opens, 
 and the girl sinks c into that world.' 
 
 In two other Russian versions of the same story, the 
 sister escapes by natural means. In the first 2 she runs 
 away and hides in the hollow of an oak. In the second 3 
 she persuades a fisherman to convey her across a sea or 
 lake. In a Polish version 4 the sister obtains a magic car, 
 which sinks underground with her, while the spot on whigh 
 she has spat replies to every summons which is addressed 
 to her. 5 
 
 Before taking leave of the Baba Yaga, we may glance 
 at a malevolent monster, who seems to be her male counter- 
 part. He appears, however, to be known in South Russia 
 
 1 Afanasief, ii. No. 31. 
 
 2 Khudyakof, No. 55. 3 Ibid., No. 83. 
 
 4 Wojcicki's ' Polnische Volkssagen,' &c. Lewestam's translation, iii. No. 8. 
 
 5 The germ of all these repulsive stories about incestuous unions, proposed 
 but not carried out, was probably a nature myth akin to that alluded to in the 
 passage of the Rigveda containing the dialogue between Yama and Yami 
 ' where she (the night) implores her brother (the day) to make her his wife, 
 and where he declines her offer because, as he says, ' they have called it sin 
 that a brother should marry his sister.' Max Muller, ' Lectures,' sixth edition, 
 " 557- 
 
 M 
 
162 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 only. Here is an outline of the contents of the solitary 
 story in which he is mentioned. There were two old folks 
 with whom lived two orphan grandchildren, charming little 
 girls. One day the youngest child was sent to drive the 
 sparrows away from her grandfather's pease. While she 
 was thus engaged the forest began to roar, and out from it 
 came Verlioka, ' of vast stature, one-eyed, crook-nosed, 
 bristly-headed, with tangled beard and moustaches half an 
 ell long, and with a wooden boot on his one foot, support- 
 ing himself on a crutch, and giving vent to a terrible 
 laughter.' And Verlioka caught sight of the little girl and 
 immediately killed her with his crutch. And afterwards he 
 killed her sister also, and then the old grandmother. The 
 grandfather, however, managed to escape with his life, and 
 afterwards, with the help of a drake and other aiders, he 
 wreaked his vengeance on the murderous Verlioka. 1 
 
 We will now turn to another female embodiment of evil, 
 frequently mentioned in the Skazkas the Witch. 2 She so 
 closely resembles the Baba Yaga both in disposition and 
 in behaviour, that most of the remarks which have been 
 made about that wild being apply to her also. In many 
 cases, indeed, we find that one version of a story will allot 
 to a Baba Yaga the part which in another version is played 
 by a Witch. The name which she bears that of Vyed'ma 
 is a misnomer ; it properly belongs either to the ' wise 
 woman,' or prophetess, of old times, or to her modern repre- 
 sentative, the woman to whom Russian superstition attri- 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 18. 
 
 2 Her name Vyed'ma comes from a Slavonic root ved, answering to the 
 Sanscrit vid frorh which springs an immense family of words having reference 
 to knowledge. Vyed^ma and -witch are in fact cousins who, though very 
 distantly related, closely resemble each other both in appearance and in 
 character. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL !6 3 
 
 butes the faculties and functions ascribed in olden days by 
 most of our jurisprudents, in more recent times by a few of 
 our rustics, to our own witch. The supernatural being who, 
 in folk-tales, sways the elements and preys upon mankind, 
 is most inadequately designated by such names as VyecPma^ 
 Hexe, or Witch, suggestive as those now homely terms are 
 of merely human, though diabolically intensified malevo- 
 lence. For more in keeping with the vastness of her powers, 
 and the vagueness of her outline, are the titles of Baba 
 Yaga, Lamia, Striga, Troll-Wife, Ogress, or Dragoness, 
 under which she figures in various lands. And therefore it 
 is in her capacity of Baba Yaga, rather than in that of 
 Vyed'ma, that we desire to study the behaviour of the 
 Russian>equivalent for the terrible female form which 
 figures in the Anglo-Saxon poem as the Mother of Grendel. 
 From among the numerous stories relating to the 
 Vyed'ma we may select the following, which bears her 
 name. 
 
 THE WITCH. l 
 
 THERE once lived an old couple who had one son called 
 Ivashko ; 2 no one can tell how fond they were of him ! 
 
 Well, one day, Ivashko said to his father and mother : 
 
 ' I'll go out fishing if you'll let me.' 
 
 * What are you thinking about ! you're still very small ; sup- 
 pose you get drowned, what good will there be in that ? ' 
 
 'No, no, I shan't get drowned. I'll catch you some fish; do 
 let me go ! ' 
 
 So his mother put a white shirt on him, tied a red girdle round 
 him, and let him go. Out in a boat he sat and said : 
 
 Canoe, canoe, float a little farther, 
 Canoe, canoe, float a little farther ! 
 
 1 Afanasief, i. No. 4 a. From the Voronej Government. 
 
 2 Ivashko and Ivashechko, are caressing diminutives of Ivan. 
 
 M z 
 
164 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Then the canoe floated on farther and farther, and Ivashko 
 began to fish. When some little time had passed by, the old 
 wpman hobbled down to the river side and called to her son : 
 
 Ivashechko, Ivaschechko, my boy, 
 Float up, float up unto the waterside ; 
 I bring thee food and drink. 
 
 And Ivashko said : 
 
 Canoe, canoe, float to the waterside ; 
 That is my mother calling me. 
 
 The boat floated to the shore : the woman took the fish, gave 
 her boy food and drink, changed his shirt for him and his girdle, 
 .and sent him back to his fishing. Again he sat in his boat and 
 
 said : 
 
 Canoe, canoe, float a little farther, 
 Canoe, canoe, float a little farther. 
 
 Then the canoe floated on farther and farther, and Ivashko 
 began to fish. After a little time had passed by, the old man 
 .also hobbled down to the bank and called to his son : 
 
 Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy, 
 Float up, float up, unto the waterside ; 
 I bring thee food and drink. 
 
 And Ivashko replied : 
 
 Canoe, canoe, float to the waterside ; 
 That is my father calling me. 
 
 The canoe floated to the shore. The old man took the fish, 
 gave his boy food and drink, changed his shirt for him and his 
 girdle, and sent him back to his fishing. 
 
 Now a certain witch l had heard what Ivashko's parents had 
 cried aloud to him, and she longed to get hold of the boy. So 
 she went down to the bank and cried with a hoarse voice : 
 
 Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy, 
 Float up, float up, unto the waterside ; 
 I bring thee food and drink. 
 
 1 ' Some storytellers,' says Afanasief, ' substitute the word snake (zniei) in 
 .the Skazka for that of witch 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 165 
 
 Ivashko perceived that the voice was not his mother's, but 
 was that of a witch, and he sang : 
 
 Canoe, canoe, float a little farther, 
 Canoe, canoe, float a little farther ; 
 That is not my mother, but a witch who calls me. 
 
 The witch saw that she must call Ivashko with just such a 
 voice as his mother had. 
 
 So she hastened to a smith and said to him : 
 
 1 Smith, smith ! make me just such a thin little voice as 
 Ivashko's mother has : if you don't, I'll eat you.' So the smith 
 forged her a little voice just like Ivashko's mother's. Then the 
 witch went down by night to the shore and sang : 
 
 Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy, 
 Float up, float up, unto the waterside ; 
 I bring thee food and drink. 
 
 Ivashko came, and she took the fish, and seized the boy and 
 carried him home with her. When she arrived she said to her 
 daughter Alenka, 1 ' Heat the stove as hot as you can, and bake 
 Ivashko well, while I go and collect my friends for the feast.' 
 So Alenka heated the stove hot, ever so hot, and said to Ivashko, 
 
 ' Come here and sit on this shovel ! ' 
 
 1 I'm still very young and foolish,' answered Ivashko : * I 
 haven't yet quite got my wits about me. Please teach me how 
 one ought to sit on a shovel.' 
 
 ' Very good,' said Alenka ; ' it won't take long to teach you.' 
 
 But the moment she sat down on the shovel, Ivashko in- 
 stantly pitched her into the oven, slammed to the iron plate in 
 front of it, ran out of the hut, shut the door, and hurriedly 
 climbed up ever so high an oak-tree [which stood close by]. 
 
 Presently the witch arrived with her guests and knocked at 
 the door of the hut. But nobody opened it for her. 
 
 * Ah ! that curse,d Alenka ! ' she cried. ' No doubt she's gone 
 off somewhere to amuse herself.' Then she slipped in through 
 
 1 Diminutive of Elena. 
 
!66 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 the window, opened the door, and let in her guests. They all 
 sat down to table, and the witch opened the oven, took out 
 Alenka's baked body, and' served it up. They all ate their fill 
 and drank their fill, and then they went out into the courtyard 
 and began rolling about on the grass. 
 
 < 1 turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko's flesh ! ' cried 
 the witch. ' I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko's 
 flesh.' 
 
 But Ivashko called out to her from the top of the oak : 
 
 * Turn about, roll about, having fed on Alenka's flesh ! ' 
 
 * Did I hear something ? ' said the witch. * No it was only the 
 noise of the leaves. 7 Again the witch began : 
 
 ' I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko's flesh ! ' 
 And Ivashko repeated : 
 
 * Turn about, roll about, having fed on Alenka's flesh ! ' 
 Then the witch looked up and saw Ivashko, and immediately 
 
 rushed at the oak on which Ivashko was seated, and began to 
 gnaw away at it. And she gnawed, and gnawed, and gnawed, 
 until at last she smashed two front teeth. Then she ran to a 
 forge, and when she reached it she cried, * Smith, smith ! make 
 me some iron teeth ; if you don't, I'll eat yoif ! ' 
 
 So the smith forged her two iron teeth. 
 
 The witch returned and began gnawing the oak again. 
 
 She gnawed, and gnawed, and was just on the point of 
 gnawing it through, when Ivashko jumped out of it into another 
 tree which stood beside it. The oak that the witch had gnawed 
 through fell down to the ground ; but then she saw that Ivashko 
 was sitting up in another tree, so she gnashed her teeth with 
 spite and set to work afresh, to gnaw that tree also. She gnawed, 
 and gnawed, and gnawed broke two lower teeth, and ran off to 
 the forge. 
 
 * Smith, smith ! ' she cried when she got there, * make me some 
 iron teeth ; if you don't I'll eat you ! ' 
 
 The smith forged two more iron teeth for her. She went 
 back again, and once more began to gnaw the oak. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 167 
 
 Ivashko did'nt know what he was to do now. He looked out, 
 and saw that swans and geese 1 were flying by, so he called to 
 .them imploringly : 
 
 Oh, my swans and geese, 
 
 Take me on your pinions, 
 
 Bear me to my father and my mother, 
 
 To the cottage of my father and my mother, 
 
 There to eat, and drink, and live in comfort. 
 
 ' Let those in the centre carry you,' .said the birds. 
 
 Ivashko waited ; a second flock flew past, and he again cried 
 irnploringry : 
 
 Oh, my swans and geese ! 
 
 Take me on your pinions, 
 
 Bear me to my father and my mother, 
 
 To the cottage of my father and my mother, 
 
 There to eat, and drink, and live in comfort. 
 
 ' Let those in the rear carry you ! ' said the birds. 
 
 Again Ivashko waited. A third flock came flying up, and he 
 
 cried : 
 
 Oh, my swans and geese ! 
 
 Take me on your pinions, 
 
 Bear me to my father and my mother, 
 
 To the cottage of my father and my mother. 
 
 There to eat, and drink, and live in comfort. 
 
 And those swans and geese took hold of him and carried him 
 back, flew up to the cottage, and dropped him in the upper room. 
 
 Early the next morning his mother set to work to bake pan- 
 cakes, baked them, and all of a sudden fell to thinking about her 
 boy. ' Where is my Ivashko ? ' .she cried ; ( would that I could see 
 him, were it only in a dream ! ' 
 
 Then his father said, ' I dreamed that swans and geese had 
 brought our Ivashko home on their wings.' 
 
 And when she had finished baking the pancakes, she said, 
 * Now then, old man, let's divide the cakes : there's for you, 
 father ! there's for me ! There's for you, father ! there's for me/ 
 
 1 Gust lebedi, geese swans. 
 
i68 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 And none for me ? ' called out Ivashko. 
 
 1 There's for you, father ! ' went on the old woman, ( there's for 
 me/ 
 
 ' And none for me ! ' [repeated the boy.] 
 
 ' Why, old man,' said the wife, ' go and see whatever that is 
 up there.' 
 
 The father climbed into the upper room and there he found 
 Ivashko. The old people were delighted, and asked their box 
 about everything that had happened. And after that he and 
 they lived on happily together. 
 
 [That part of this story which relates to the baking and eating of the witch's 
 daughter is well known in many lands. It is found in the German ( Hansel 
 und GretheP (Grimm. K.M. No. 15, and iii. p. 25, where a number of parallels 
 are mentioned) ; in the Norse 'Askelad' (Asbjornsen and Moe, No. I. 
 Dasent, ' Boots and the Troll,' No. 32), where a Troll's daughter is baked; anfl 
 *Smorbuk' (Asb. and Moe, No. 52. Dasent, ' Buttercup,' No. 1 8), in which 
 the victim is daughter of a 'Haugkjcerring,' another name for a Troll- wife ; ir. 
 the Servian story of ' The Stepmother,' &c. (Vuk Karajich, No. 35, pp. 174-5) 
 in which two Chivuti, or Jews, are tricked into eating their baked mother ; in 
 the Modern Greek stories (Hahn, No. 3 and ii. p. 181), in which the hero 
 bakes (i) a Drakcina, while her husband, the Drakos, is at church, (2) a 
 Lamiopitla, during the absence of the Lamia, her mother ; and in the 
 Albanian story of ' Augenhiindin ' (Hahn, No. 95), in which the heroine gets 
 rid in a similar manner of Maro, the^daughter of that four-eyed (rvKievefa. (See 
 note, ii. 309). Afanasief also refers (i. p. 121) to Haltrich, No. 37, andHaupt 
 and Schmaler, ii. pp. 172-4. He also mentions a similar tale about a giantess 
 existing among the Baltic Kashoubes. See also the end of the song of 
 Tardanak, showing how he killed 'the Seven Headed Jelbegen,' Radloff, i. 
 P- 3I-] 
 
 A variant of this story (from the Chernigof Govern- 
 ment) 1 begins by telling how two old people were childless 
 for a long time. At last the husbarld went into the forest, 
 felled wood, and made a cradle. Into this his wife laid 
 one of the logs he had cut, and began swinging it, croon- 
 ing the while a rune beginning 
 
 Swing, blockie dear, swing. 
 1 Afanasief, i. No. 4. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 169 
 
 After a little time ' behold ! the block already had legs. 
 The old woman rejoiced greatly and began singing anew, 
 and went on singing until the block became a babe .' In 
 this variant the boy rows a silver boat with a golden oar ; 
 in another South Russian variant l the boat is golden, the 
 oar of silver. In a White-Russian variant quoted by 
 Afanasief (i. p. 118), the place of the witch's daughter is 
 filled by her son, who had been in the habit of alluring to 
 her den by gifts of toys, and there devouring, the children 
 from the adjacent villages. Buslaefs * Historical Essays/ 
 (i. pp. 313-321) contain a valuable investigation of Kulish's 
 version of this story, which he compares with the romance 
 of ' The Knight of the Swan.' 
 
 In another of the variants of this story 2 Ivanushka is 
 the son of a Baruinya or Lady, and he is carried off in a 
 whirlwind by a Baba Yaga. His three sisters go to look for 
 him, and each of them in turn finds out where he is and' 
 attempts to carry him off, after sending the Baba Yaga to 
 sleep and smearing her eyelids with pitch. But the two elder 
 sisters are caught on their way home by the Baba Yaga, and 
 terribly scratched and torn. The youngest sister, however, 
 succeeds in rescuing her brother, having taken the precaution 
 of propitiating with butter the cat Jeremiah, ' who was telling 
 the boy stories and singing him songs.' When the Baba 
 Yaga awakes, she tells Jeremiah to scratch her eyes open, but 
 he refuses, reminding her that, long as he has lived under her 
 roof, she has never in any way regaled him, whereas the 
 ' fair maiden ' had no sooner arrived than she treated him 
 to butter. In another variant 3 the bereaved mother sends 
 three servants-maids in search of her boy. Two of them 
 
 1 Kulish, ii. 17. 2 Rhudyakof, No. 53. 
 
 3 Khudyakof, No. 52. 
 
s;o RUSSIAN FOLK TALES 
 
 ;get torn to pieces ; the third succeeds in saving Ivanushka 
 from the Baba Yaga, who is so vexed that she pinches her 
 butt,er-bribed cat to death, for not having awakened her 
 when the rescue took place. A comparison of these three 
 stories is sufficient to show how closely connected are the 
 Witch and the Baba Yaga, how readily the name of 
 either of the two may be transferred to the other. 
 
 But there is one class of stories in which the VyecTma is 
 represented as differing from the Baba Yaga, in so far as 
 she is the offspring of parents who are not in any way 
 supernatural or inhuman. Without any apparent cause for 
 her abnormal conduct, the daughter of an ordinary royal 
 house will suddenly begin to destroy and devour all living 
 things which fall in her way her strength developing as 
 rapidly as her appetite. Of such a nature to be accounted 
 for only on the supposition that an evil spirit has taken up 
 its abode in a human body 1 is the witch who appears in 
 the somewhat incomprehensible story that follows. 
 
 THE WITCH AND THE SUN'S SiSTER. 2 
 
 IN a certain far-off country there once lived a king and queen. 
 And they had an only son, Prince Ivan, who was dumb from his 
 birth. One day, when he was twelve years old, he went into the 
 -stable to see a groom who was a great friend of his. 
 
 That groom always used to tell him tales \skazkt\^ and on this 
 
 1 The demonism of Ceylon ' represents demons as having human fathers 
 and mothers, and as being born in the ordinary course of nature. Though born 
 of human parents, all their qualities are different from those of men. They 
 leave their .parents sometime after their birth, but before doing so, they generally 
 take care to try their demoniac powers on them.' ' Demonology and Witch- 
 craft in Ceylon.' By Dandris de Silva Gooneratne Modliar. 'Journal of 
 Ceylon Branch of Royal Asiatic Society,' 1865-6, p. 17. 
 
 2 Afanasief, vi. No. 57. From the Ukraine. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 171 
 
 occasion Prince Ivan went to him expecting to hear some stories, 
 \_skazochki\ but that wasn't what he heard. 
 
 ' Prince Ivan ! ' said the groom, ( your mother will soon have 
 a daughter, and you a sister. She will be a terrible witch, and 
 she will eat up her father, and her mother, and all their subjects. 
 So go and ask your father for the best horse he has as if you 
 wanted a gallop and then, if you want to be out of harm's way, 
 ride away whithersoever your eyes guide you.' 
 
 Prince Ivan ran off to his father and, for the first time in his 
 life, began speaking to him. 
 
 At that the king was so delighted that he never thought of 
 asking what he wanted a good steed for, but immediately ordered 
 the very best horse he had in his stud to be saddled for the 
 prince. 
 
 Prince Ivan mounted, and rode off without caring where he 
 went. 1 Long, long did he ride. 
 
 At length he came to where two old women were sewing, and 
 he begged them to let him live. with them. But they said : 
 
 * Gladly would we do so, Prince Ivan, only we have now but 
 a short time to live. As soon as we have broken that trunkful of 
 needles, and used up that trunkful of thread, that instant will 
 death arrive ! ' 
 
 Prince Ivan burst into tears and rode on. Long, long did he 
 ride. At length he came to where the giant Vertodub was, 2 and 
 he besought him, saying : 
 
 'Take me to live with you.' 
 
 ' Gladly would I have taken you, Prince Ivan ! ' replied the 
 giant, * but now I have very little longer to live. As soon as I 
 have pulled up all th.ese trees by the roots, instantly will come 
 my death ! ' 
 
 More bitterly still did the prince weep as he rode farther and 
 
 1 ' Whither [his] eyes look.' 
 
 2 Vertodub, the Tree-extractor (vcrtyet* = to twirl, dub = tree or oak) 
 is the German. Baumdreher or Holzkrummacher ; Vcrtogor the Mountain- 
 leveller (gora mountain) answers to the Stdnzcrrtiber or Felsenkrippcrcr. 
 
172 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 farther on. By-and-by he came to where the giant Vertogor 
 was, and made the same request to him, but he replied : 
 
 ' Gladly would I have taken you, Prince Ivan ! but I myself 
 have very little longer to live. I am set here, you know, to level 
 mountains. The moment I have settled matters with these 
 you see remaining, then will my death come ! ' 
 
 Prince Ivan burst into a flood of bitter tears, and rode on 
 still farther. Long, long did he ride. At last he came to the 
 dwelling of the Sun's Sister. She received him into her house, 
 gave him food and drink, and treated him just as if he had been 
 her own son. 
 
 The prince now led an easy life. But it was all no use ; he 
 couldn't help being miserable. He longed so to know what was 
 going on at home. 
 
 He often went to the top of a high mountain, and thence 
 gazed at the palace in which he used to live, and he could see 
 that it was all eaten away ; nothing but the bare walls remained ! 
 Then he would sigh and weep. Once when he returned after 
 he had been thus looking and crying, the Sun's Sister asked him : 
 
 ' What makes your eyes so red to-day, Prince Ivan ? ' l 
 
 ' The wind has been blowing in them,' said he. 
 
 The same thing happened a second time. Then the Sun's 
 Sister ordered the wind to stop blowing. Again a third time 
 did Prince Ivan come back with a blubbered face. This time 
 there was no help for it ; he had to confess everything, and then 
 he took to entreating the Sun's Sister to let him go, that he might 
 satisfy himself about his old home. She would not let him go, but 
 he went on urgently entreating. 
 
 - So at last he persuaded her, and she let him go away to find 
 out about his home. But first she provided him for the journey 
 with a brush, a comb, and two youth-giving apples. How r ever 
 old anyone might be, let him eat one of these apples, he would 
 grow young again in an instant. 
 
 1 Why are you just now so zaplakannoi, or blubbered. \Zaflakat\ or 
 plakaf = to cry.] 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 173 
 
 Well, Prince Ivan came to where Vertogor was. There was 
 only just one mountain left ! He took his brush and cast it 
 down on the open plain. Immediately there rose out of the 
 earth, goodness knows whence, 1 high, ever so high mountains, 
 their peaks touching the sky. And the number of them was such 
 that there were more than the eye could see ! 2 Vertogor re- 
 joiced greatly and blithely recommenced his work. 
 
 After a time Prince Ivan came to where Vertodub was, and 
 found that there were only three trees remaining there. So he took 
 the comb and flung it on the open plain. Immediately from 
 somewhere or other there came a sound of trees, 3 and forth from 
 the ground arose dense oak forests ! each stem more huge than 
 the other \ Vertodub was delighted, thanked the Prince, and set 
 to work uprooting the ancient oaks. 
 
 By-and-by Prince Ivan reached the old women, and gave 
 each of them an apple. They ate them, and straightway became 
 young again. So they gave him a handkerchief ; you only had to 
 wave it, and behind you lay a whole lake ! At last Prince Ivan 
 arrived at home. Out came running his sister to meet him, 
 caressed him fondly. 
 
 ' Sit thee down, my brother ! ' she said, * play a tune on the 
 lute while I go and get dinner ready.' 
 
 The Prince sat down and strummed away on the lute [gusl{\. 
 
 Then there crept a mouse out of a hole, and said to him in a 
 human voice : 
 
 ' Save yourself, Prince. Run away quick ! your sister has 
 gone to sharpen her teeth.' 
 
 Prince Ivan fled from the room, jumped on his horse, and 
 galloped away back. Meantime the mouse kept running over 
 the strings of the lute. They twanged, and the sister never 
 guessed that her brother was off. When she had sharpened her 
 teeth she burst into the room. Lo and behold ! not a soul was 
 
 1 Otkuda iii vzyalis. 
 
 2 Vidimb nevidimo, visibly invisibly. 
 
 8 Zas/Mtnycli, they began to produce a shum or noise. 
 
174 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 there, nothing but the mouse bolting into its hole ! The witch 
 waxed wroth, ground her teeth like anything, and set offin pursuit. 
 
 Prince Ivan heard a loud noise and looked back. There was 
 his sister chasing him. So he waved his handkerchief, and a 
 deep lake lay behind him. While the witch was swimming across 
 the water, Prince Ivan got a long way ahead. But on she came 
 faster than ever ; and now she was close at hand ! Vertodub 
 guessed that the Prince was trying to escape from his sister. So 
 he began tearing up oaks and strewing them across the road. A 
 regular mountain did he pile up ! there was no passing by for 
 the witch ! So she set to work to clear the way. She gnawed, 
 and gnawed, and at length contrived by hard work to bore her 
 way through ; but by this time Prince Ivan was far ahead. 
 
 On she dashed in pursuit, chased and chased. Just a little 
 more, and it would be impossible for him to escape ! But Verto- 
 gor spied the witch, laid hold of the very highest of all the moun- 
 tains, pitched it down all of a heap on the road, and flung 
 another mountain right on top of it. While the witch was 
 climbing and clambering, Prince Ivan rode and rode, and found 
 himself a long way ahead. At last the witch got across the 
 mountain, and once more set off in pursuit of her brother. By- 
 and-by she caught sight of him, and exclaimed : 
 
 'You shan't get away from me this time!' And now she is 
 close, now she is just going to catch him ! 
 
 At that very moment Prince Ivan dashed up to the abode of 
 
 the Sun's Sister and cried : 
 
 
 
 ' Sun, Sun ! open the window ! ' 
 
 The Sun's Sister opened the window, and the Prince bounded 
 through it, horse and all. 
 
 Then the witch began to ask that her brother might be given 
 up to her for punishment. The Sun's Sister would not listen to 
 her, nor would she give him up. Then the witch said : 
 
 ' Let Prince Ivan be weighed against me, to see which is the 
 heavier. If I am, then I will eat him ; but if he is, then let him 
 kill me ! ' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 175- 
 
 This was done. Prince Ivan was the first to get into one of 
 the scales ; then the witch began to get into the other. But no 
 sooner had she set foot in it than up shot Prince Ivan in the air, 
 and that with such force that he flew right up into the sky, and 
 into the chamber of the Sun's Sister. 
 
 But as for the Witch-Snake, she remained down below on 
 earth. 
 
 [The word terem (plural terema) which occurs twice in this story (rendered 
 the second time by ' chamber ') deserves a special notice. It is denned by 
 Dahl, in its antique sense, as ' a raised, lofty habitation, or part of one a 
 Boyar's castle a Seigneur's house the dwelling-place of a ruler within a 
 fortress,' &c. The 'terem of the women,' sometimes styled ' of the girls,' used 
 to comprise the part of a Seigneur's house, on the upper floor, set aside for the 
 female members of his family. Dahl compares it with the Russian tyurma, a 
 prison, and the German Thurm. But it seems really to be derived from the 
 Greek rlpe/xiw, 'anything closely shut fast or closely covered, a room, 
 chamber,' &c. 
 
 That part of the story which refers to the Cannibal Princess is familiar to- 
 the Modern Greeks. In the Syriote tale of 'The Strigla' (Hahn, No. 65) a 
 princess devours her father and all his subjects. Her brother, who had 
 escaped while she was still a babe, visits her and is kindly received. But 
 while she is sharpening her teeth with a view towards eating him, a mouse 
 gives him a warning which saves his life. As in the Russian story the mouse 
 jumps about on the strings of a lute in order to deceive the witch, so in the 
 Greek it plays a fiddle. But the Greek hero does not leave his 'sister's abode. 
 After remaining concealed one night, he again accosts her. She attempts- 
 to eat him, but he kills her. 
 
 In a variant from Epirus (Hahn, ii. p. 283-4) the cannibal princess is called 
 a Chursusissa. Her brother climbs a tree, the stem of which she gnaws almost 
 asunder. But before it falls, a Lamia comes to his aid and kills his sister. 
 
 Afanasief (viii. p. 527) identifies the Sun's Sister with the Dawn. The 
 following explanation of the skazka (with the exception of the words within 
 brackets) is given by A. de Gubernatis ('Zool. Myth.' i. 183). 'Ivan is the 
 Sun, the aurora [or dawn] is his [true] sister ; at morning, near the abode of 
 the aurora, that is, in the east, the shades of night [his witch, or false sister] 
 go underground, and the Sun arises to the heavens ; this is the mythical pair of 
 scales. Thus in the Christian belief, St. Michael weighs human souls ; those 
 who weigh much sink down into hell, and those who are light arise tothe 
 heavenly paradise.'] 
 
 As an illustration of this story, Afanasief (P. V. S. in. 
 272) quotes a Little-Russian Skazka in which a man, who is 
 
1 76 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 seeking 'the Isle in which there is no death,' meets with 
 various personages like those with whom the Prince at first 
 wished to stay on his journey, and at last takes up his 
 abode with the Moon. ^ Death comes in search of him, after 
 a hundred years or so have elapsed, and engages in a 
 struggle with the Moon, the result of which is that the 
 man is caught up into the sky, and there shines thence- 
 forth ' as a star near the moon.'^ 
 
 The Sun's Sister is a mythical being who is often men- 
 tioned in the popular poetry of the South-Slavonians. A 
 Servian song represents a beautiful maiden, with ( arms of 
 silver up to the elbows/ sitting on a silver throne which 
 floats on water. A suitor comes to woo her. She waxes 
 wroth and" cries, 
 
 Whom wishes he to woo ? 
 The sister of the Sun, 
 The cousin of the Moon, 
 The adopted-sister of the Dawn. 
 
 Then she flings down three golden apples, which the 
 * marriage-proposers ' attempt to catch, but ' three light- 
 nings flash from the sky' and kill the suitor and his 
 friends. 
 
 In another Servian song a girl cries to the Sun 
 
 O brilliant Sun ! I am fairer than thou, 
 Than thy brother, the bright Moon, 
 Than thy sister, the moving star [Venus ?]. 
 
 In South-Slavonian poetry the sun often figures as a 
 radiant youth. But among the Northern Slavonians, as 
 well as the Lithuanians, the sun was regarded as a female 
 being, the bride of the moon. ' Thou askest me of what 
 race, of what family I am/ says the fair maiden of a song 
 preserved in the Tambof Government 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 177 
 
 My mother is the beauteous Sun, 
 And my father the bright Moon ; 
 My brothers are the many Stars, 
 And my sisters the white Dawns. l 
 
 A far more detailed account might be given of the 
 Witch and her near relation the Baba Yaga, as well as of 
 those masculine embodiments of that spirit of evil which 
 is personified in them, the Snake, Koshchei, and other 
 similar beings. But the stories which have been quoted 
 will suffice to give at least a general idea of their moral and 
 physical attributes. We will now turn from their forms, so 
 constantly introduced into the skazka-drama, to some of 
 the supernatural figures which are not so often brought 
 upon the stage to those mythical beings of whom (numerous 
 as may be the traditions about them) the regular ' story ' 
 does not so often speak, to such personifications of abstract 
 ideas as are less frequently employed to set its conventional 
 machinery in motion. 
 
 1 Afanasief, P.V.S., i. 80-84. In the Albanian story of 'The Serpent 
 Child,' (Hahn, No. 100), the heroine, the wife of the man whom forty snake- 
 sloughs encase, is assisted in her troubles by two subterranean beings whom 
 she finds employed in baking. They use their hands instead of shovels, and 
 clean out the oven with their breasts. They are called ' Sisters of the 
 Sun.' 
 
 N 
 
i;8 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 MYTHOLOGICAL. 
 
 Miscellaneous Impersonifications. 
 
 SOMEWHAT resembling the picture usually drawn of the 
 supernatural Witch in the Skazkas, is that which some of 
 them offer of a personification of evil called Likho. 1 The 
 following story, belonging to the familiar Polyphemus-cycle, 
 will serve to convey an idea of this baleful being, who in it 
 takes a female form. 
 
 ONE-EYED LiKHO. 2 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a smith. ' Well now/ says he, ' Fve 
 never set eyes on any harm. They say there's evil (likho) 3 in the 
 world. I'll go and seek me out evil.' So he went and had a 
 goodish drink, and then started in search of evil. On the way he 
 met a tailor. 
 
 ' Good day,' says the Tailor. 
 
 1 The adjective likhoi has two opposite meanings, sometimes signifying 
 what is evil, hurtful, malicious, &c., sometimes what is bold, vigorous, and 
 therefore to be admired. As a substantive, likho conveys the idea of something 
 malevolent or unfortunate. The Polish licJw properly signifies uneven. But 
 odd numbers are sometimes considered unlucky. Polish housewives, for 
 instance, think it imprudent to allow their hens to sit on an uneven number of 
 eggs. But the peasantry also describe by Licho an evil spirit, a sort of devil. 
 (Wojcicki in the ' Encyklopedyja Powszeohna,' xvii. p. 17.) 'When Likho 
 sleeps, awake it not,' says a proverb common to Poland and South Russia. 
 
 2 Afanasief, iii. No. 14. From the Voroneje Government. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 179 
 
 1 Good day.' 
 
 * Where are you going ? ' asks the Tailor. 
 
 'Well, brother, everybody says there is evil on earth. But 
 I've never seen any, so I'm going to look for it/ 
 
 ' Let's go together. I'm a thriving man, too, and have seen 
 no evil ; let's go and have a hunt for some.' 
 
 Well, they walked and walked till they reached a dark, dense 
 forest. In it they found a small path, and along it they went along 
 the narrow path. They walked and walked along the path, and at 
 last they saw a large cottage standing before them. It was night ; 
 there was nowhere else to go to. ' Look here/ they say, ' let's go 
 into that cottage.' In they went. There was nobody there. All 
 looked bare and squalid. They sat down, and remained sitting 
 there some time. Presently in came a tall woman, lank, crooked, 
 with only one eye. 
 
 ( Ah ! J says she, ' I've visitors. Good day to you.' 
 
 1 Good day, grandmother. We've come to pass the night 
 under your roof.' 
 
 1 Very good : I shall have something to sup on.' 
 
 Thereupon they were greatly terrified. As for her, she went 
 
 and fetched a great heap of firewood. She brought in the heap of 
 
 firewood, flung it into the stove, and set it alight. Then she went 
 
 up to the two men, took one of them the Tailor cut his throat, 
 
 t trussed him! and put him in the oven. 
 
 Meantime the Smith sat there, thinking, * What's to be done ? 
 how's one to save one's life ? ' When she had finished her supper, 
 the Smith looked at the oven and said : 
 
 ' Granny, I'm a smith.' 
 
 ' W T hat can you forge ? ' 
 
 * Anything.' 
 
 ' Make me an eye.' 
 
 * Good,' says he ; ' but have you got any cord ? I must tie 
 you up, or you won't keep still. I shall have to hammer your eye 
 in.' 
 
i So RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 She went and fetched two cords, one rather thin, the other 
 thicker. Well, he bound her with the one which \vas thinnest. 
 
 1 Now then, granny/ says he, ' just turn over.' She turned 
 over, and broke the cord. 
 
 * That won't do, granny,' says he ; ' that cord doesn't suit.' 
 
 He took the thick cord, and tied her up with it famously. 
 
 ' Now then, turn away, granny ! ' says he. She turned and 
 twisted, but didn't break the cord. Then he took an awl, heated 
 it red-hot, and applied it to her eye her sound one. At the same 
 moment he caught up a hatchet, and hammered away vigorously 
 with the back of it at the awl. She struggled like anything, and 
 broke the cord ; then she went and sat down at the threshold. 
 
 ' Ah, villain !' she cried. 'You shan't get away from me 
 now ! ' 
 
 He saw that he was in an evil plight again. There he sat, 
 thinking, ' What's to be done ? ' 
 
 By-and-by the sheep came home from afield, and she drove 
 them into her cottage for the night. Well, the Smith spent the 
 night there, too. In the morning she got up to let the sheep out. 
 He took his sheep-skin pelisse and turned it inside out, so that the 
 wool was outside, passed his arms through its sleeves, and pulled 
 it well over him, and then crept up to her as if he had been a 
 sheep. She let the flock go out one at a time, catching hold of 
 each by the wool on its back, and shoving it out. Well, he came 
 creeping up like the rest. She caught hold of the wool on his 
 back and shoved him out. But as soon as she had shoved him 
 out, he stood up and cried : 
 
 ' Farewell, Likho ! I have suffered much evil (likha) at your 
 hands. Now you can do nothing to me.' 
 
 ' Wait a bit ! ' she replied j ' you shall endure still more. You 
 haven't escaped yet ! ' 
 
 The Smith went back through the forest along the narrow 
 path. Presently he saw a golden-handled hatchet sticking in a 
 tree, and he felt a strong desire to seize it. Well, he did seize 
 that hatchet, and his hand stuck fast to it. What was to be done? 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 181 
 
 There was no freeing it anyhow. He gave a look behind him. 
 
 There was Likho coming after him, and crying : 
 1 There you are, villain ! you've not got off yet ! ' 
 The Smith pulled out a small knife which he had in his 
 
 pocket, and began hacking away at his hand cut it clean off and 
 
 ran away. When he reached his village, he immediately began to 
 
 show his arm as a proof that he had seen Likho at last. 
 
 ' Look/ says he, ' that's the state of things. Here am I,' says 
 
 he, * without my hand. And as for my comrade, she's eaten him 
 
 up entirely/ 
 
 In a Little-Russian variant of this story, quoted by 
 Afanasief, 1 (III. p. 137) a man, who often hears evil or 
 misfortune (likJio) spoken of, sets out in search of it. One 
 day he sees an iron castle beside a wood, surrounded by a 
 palisade of human bones tipped with skulls. He knocks at 
 the door, and a voice cries ' What do you want ? ' * I want 
 evil/ he replies. ' That's what I'm looking for/ ' Evil is 
 here ' cries the voice. So in he goes, and finds a huge, 
 blind giant lying within, stretched on a couch of human 
 bones. ' This was Likho (Evil) ' says the story, ' and around 
 him were seated Zluidni (Woes) and Zhurba (Care).' Find- 
 ing that Likho intends to eat him, the misfortune-seeker 
 takes to flight. Likho hears the iron doors creak, and cries 
 to them to stop the fugitive. ' But he had already passed 
 out of doors. Only he lost his right hand, on which the 
 door slammed ; whereupon he exclaimed " Here's misfor- 
 tune, sure enough ! " ' 
 
 The opening of the story of Likho is somewhat similar 
 to that of one of the tales of Indian origin translated by 
 Stanislas Julien from the Chinese. Once upon a time, we 
 are told, a king grew weary of good fortune, so he sent 
 
 1 From an article by Borovikovsky in the ' Otech. Zap.' 1840, No. 2. 
 
182 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 messengers in search of misfortune. It a certain god sold 
 to them, in the shape of a sow which devoured a peck of 
 needles a day. The king's agents took to worrying his 
 subjects for needles, and brought such trouble upon the 
 whole kingdom, that his ministers entreated him to have 
 the beast put to death. He consented, and it was led forth 
 to die. But neither knife nor axe could penetrate its hide, 
 so they tried to consume it with fire. After a time it 
 became red-hot, and then it leaped out from amid the 
 flames, and dashed about setting fire to all manner of things. 
 The conflagration spread and was followed by famine, so 
 that the whole land was involved in ruin. 1 
 
 The Polyphemus' story has been so thoroughly investi- 
 gated by Wilhelm Grimm, 2 that there is no occasion to 
 dwell upon it here. But the following statement is worthy 
 of notice. The inhabitants of the Ukraine are said still to 
 retain some recollection of the one-eyed nation of Arimas- 
 pians of whom Herodotus speaks (Bk. IV. c. 27). Accord- 
 ing to them the One-Eyes 3 dwell somewhere far off, beyond 
 the seas. The Tartars, during their inroads, used to burn 
 towns and villages, kill old folks and infants, and carry off 
 young people. The plumpest of these they used to sell 
 to cannibals who had but one eye apiece, situated in 
 the forehead. And the cannibals would drive away their 
 purchases, like sheep, to their own land, and there fatten 
 
 1 'Les Avadanas,' vol. i. No. 9, p. 51. 
 
 2 In the 'Philogische und historische Abhandlungen, ' of the Berlin 
 Academy of Sciences for 1857, pp. 1-30. See also Buslaef, '1st Och.,' i. 
 327-331.; Campbell's 'West Highland Tales,' i. p. 132, &c. 
 
 8 Ednookie (edno or odno one ; oko = eye). A Slavonic equivalent of 
 the name, ' Arimaspians,' from the Scythic arima one and spA = eye. 
 Mr. Rawlinson associates arima, through farima, with Goth, fruma, Lat. 
 primus ^ &c., and spfi with Lat. root spic or spec in spcciu, spccio, &c., and 
 with our 'spy,' &c. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 183 
 
 them up, kill them, and eat them. A similar tradition, says 
 Afanasief (VIII. 260) exists also among the Ural Cossacks. 
 While on the subject of eyes, it may be remarked that 
 the story of ' One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three- Eyes,' ren- 
 dered so familiar to juvenile English readers by translations 
 from the German, 1 appears among the Russian tales in a 
 very archaic and heathenish form. Here is the outline of a 
 version of it found in the Archangel Government. 2 There 
 cnce was a Princess Marya, whose stepmother had two 
 daughters, one of whom was three-eyed. Now her step- 
 mother hated Marya, and used to send her out, with nothing 
 to eat but a dry crust, to tend a cow all day. But ' the 
 princess went into the open field, bowed down before the 
 cow's right foot, and got plenty to eat and to drink, and fine 
 clothes to put on ; all day long she followed the cow about 
 dressed like a great lady when the day came to a close, she 
 again bowed down to the cow's right foot, took off her fine 
 clothes, went home and laid on the table the crust of bread 
 she had brought back with her.' Wondering at this, her 
 stepmother sent her two-eyed stepsister to watch her. But 
 Marya uttered the words ' Sleep, sleep, one-eye ! sleep, 
 sleep, other eye ! ' till the watcher fell asleep. Then the 
 three-eyed sister was sent, and Marya by the same spell 
 sent two of her eyes to sleep, but forgot the third. So 
 all was found out, and the stepmother had the cow killed. 
 But Marya persuaded her father, who acted as the butcher, 
 to give her a part of the cow's entrails, which she buried 
 near the threshold ; and from it there sprang a bush 
 covered with berries, and haunted by birds which sang 
 * songs royal and rustic.' After a time a Prince Ivan heard 
 of Marya, so he came riding up, and offered to marry 
 
 1 Grimm, No. 130, &c. 2 Afanasief, vi. No. 55. 
 
1 84 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 whichever of the three princesses could fill with berries from 
 the bush a bowl which he brought with him. The step- 
 mother's daughters tried to do so, but the birds almost 
 pecked their eyes out, and would not let them gather the 
 berries. Then Marya's turn came, and when she ap- 
 proached the bush the birds picked the berries for her, 
 and filled the bowl in a trice. So she married the prince, 
 and lived happily with him for a time. 
 
 But after she had borne him a son, she went to pay a 
 visit to her father, and her stepmother availed herself of the 
 opportunity to turn her into a goose, and to set her own 
 two-eyed daughter in her place. So Prince Ivan returned 
 home with a false bride. But a certain old man took out 
 the infant prince afield, and there his mother appeared, 
 flung aside her feather-covering, and suckled the babe, ex- 
 claiming the while with tears 
 
 ' To-day I suckle thee, to-morrow I shall suckle thee, 
 but on the third day I shall fly away beyond the dark 
 forests, beyond the high mountains ! ' 
 
 This occurred on two successive days, but on the second 
 occasion Prince Ivan was a witness of what took place, 
 and he seized her feather-dress and burnt it, and then laid 
 hold of her. She first turned into a frog, then assumed 
 various reptile forms, and finally became a spindle. This 
 he broke in two, and flung one half in front and the other 
 behind him, and the spell was broken along with it. So he 
 regained his wife and went home with her. But as for the 
 false wife, he took a gun and shot her. 
 
 We will now return to the stories in which Harm or 
 Misery figures as a living agent. To Likho is always attri- 
 buted a character of unmitigated malevolence, and a similar 
 disposition is ascribed by the songs of the people to another 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 185 
 
 being in whom the idea of misfortune is personified. This 
 is Gore, or Woe, who is frequently represented in popular 
 poetry sometimes under the name of Beda or Misery as 
 chasing and ultimately destroying the unhappy victims of 
 destiny. In vain do the fugitives attempt to escape. If 
 they enter the dark forest, Woe follows them there ; if they 
 rush to the pothouse, there they find Woe sitting ; when 
 they seek refuge in the grave, Woe stands over it with a 
 shovel and rejoices. 1 In the following story, however, the 
 gloomy figure of Woe has been painted in a less than 
 usually sombre tone. 
 
 WOE. 2 ' 
 
 IN a certain village there lived two peasants, two brothers : one 
 of them poor, the other rich. The rich one went away to live in 
 a town, built himself a large house, and enrolled himself among 
 the traders. Meanwhile the poor man sometimes had not so 
 much as a morsel of bread, and his children each one smaller 
 than the other were crying and begging for food. From morn- 
 ing till night the peasant would struggle, like a fish trying to 
 break through ice, but nothing came of it all. At last one day 
 he said to his wife : 
 
 i Suppose I go to town, and ask my brother whether he won't 
 do something to help us.' 
 
 So he went to the rich man and said : 
 
 ' Ah, brother mine ! do help me a bit in my trouble. My 
 wife and children are without bread. They have to go whole 
 days without eating.' 
 
 ' Work for me this week, then I'll help you,' said his brother. 
 
 What was there to be done ! The poor man betook himself 
 to work, swept out the yard, cleaned the horses, fetched water, 
 chopped firewood. 
 
 1 See the 'Songs of the Russian People,' p. 30. 
 
 2 Afanasief, v. No. 34. From the Novgorod Government. 
 
1 86 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 At the end of the week the rich man gave him a loaf of bread, 
 and says : 
 
 1 There's for your work ! ' 
 
 'Thank you all the same,' dolefully said the poor man, 
 making his bow and preparing to go home. 
 
 ' Stop a bit ! come and dine with me to-morrow, and bring 
 your wife too : to-morrow is my name-day, you know.' 
 
 ' Ah, brother ! how can I ? you know very well you'll be 
 having merchants coming to you in boots and pelisses, but I 
 have to go about in bast shoes and a miserable old grey caftan.' 
 
 * No matter, come ! there will be room even for you.' 
 
 1 Very well, brother ! I'll come.' 
 
 The poor man returned home, gave his wife the loaf, and said : 
 
 ' Listen, wife ! we're invited to a party to-morrow.' 
 
 ' What do you mean by a party ? who's invited us ? ' 
 
 1 My brother ! he keeps his name-day to-morrow.' 
 
 'Well, well! let's go.' 
 
 Next day they got up and went to the town, came to the rich 
 man's house, offered him their congratulations, and sat down on 
 a bench. A number of the name-day guests were already seated 
 at table. All of these the host feasted gloriously, but he forgot 
 even so much as to think of his poor brother and his wife ; not 
 a thing did he offer them ; they had to sit and merely look on 
 at the others eating and drinking. 
 
 The dinner came to an end ; . the guests rose from table, and 
 expressed their thanks to their host and hostess ; and the poor 
 man did likewise, got up from his bench, and bowed down to his 
 girdle before his brother. The guests drove off homewards, full 
 of drink and merriment, shouting, singing songs. But the poor 
 man had to walk back empty. 
 
 ' Suppose we sing a song too,' he says to his wife. 
 
 ' W T hat a fool you are ! ' says she, ' people sing because they've 
 made a good meal and had lots to drink ; but why ever should 
 you dream of singing ? ' 
 . ' Well, at all events, I've been at my brother's name-day party. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 187 
 
 I'm ashamed of trudging along without singing. If I sing, every- 
 body will think I've been feasted like the rest.'" 
 
 ' Sing away then, if you like ; but I won't ! ' 
 
 The peasant began a song. Presently he heard a voice joining 
 in it. So he stopped, and asked his wife : 
 
 ' Is it you that's helping me to sing with that thin little 
 voice ? ' 
 
 i What are you thinking about ! I never even dreamt of such 
 a thing.' 
 
 Who is it, then ? ' 
 
 ' I don't know,' said the woman. But now, sing away, and 
 I'll listen.' 
 
 He began his song again. There was only one person sing- 
 ing, yet two voices could be heard. So he stopped, and asked : 
 
 * Woe, is that you that's helping me to sing ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, master,' answered Woe : ' it's I that's helping you/ 
 ' Well then, Woe ! let's all go on together.' 
 ' Very good, master ! I'll never depart from you now/ 
 When the peasant got home, Woe bid him go to the kabak 
 or pot-house. 
 
 * I've no money,' says the man. 
 
 ' Out upon you, moujik ! What do you want money for ? why 
 you've got on a sheep-skin jacket. What's the good of that ? It 
 will soon be summer ; anyhow you won't be wanting to wear it ! 
 Off with the jacket, and to the pot-house we'll go/ 
 
 So the peasant went with Woe into the pot-house, and they 
 drank the sheep-skin away. 
 
 The next day Woe began groaning its head ached from 
 yesterday's drinking and again bade the master of the house have 
 a drink. 
 
 * I've no money,' said the peasant. 
 
 * What do we want money for ? Take the cart and the sledge ; 
 we've plenty without them/ 
 
 There was nothing to be done ; the peasant could not shake 
 himself free from Woe. So he took the cart and the sledge, 
 
1 88 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 dragged them to the pot-house, and there he and Woe drank them 
 away. Next morning Woe began groaning more than ever, and 
 invited the master of the house to go and drink off the effects 
 of the debauch. This time the peasant drank away his plough 
 and his harrow. 
 
 A month hadn't passed before he had got rid of everything 
 he possessed. Even his very cottage he pledged to a neighbour, 
 and the money he got that way he took to the pot-house. 
 
 Yet another time did Woe come close beside him and say : 
 
 ' Let us go, let us go to the pot-house ! ' 
 
 ' No, no, Woe ! it's all very well, but there's nothing more to 
 be squeezed out/ 
 
 ' How can you say that ? Your wife has got two petticoats : 
 leave her one, but the other we must turn into drink.' 
 
 The peasant took the petticoat, drank it away, and said to 
 himself: 
 
 ' We're cleaned out at last, my wife as well as myself. Not a 
 stick nor a stone is left ! ' 
 
 Next morning Woe saw, on waking, that there was nothing 
 more to be got out of the peasant, so it said : 
 
 1 Master ! ' 
 
 'Well, Woe?' 
 
 ' Why, look here. Go to your neighbour, and ask him to 
 lend you a cart and a pair of oxen.' 
 
 The peasant went to the neighbour's. 
 
 ' Be so good as to lend me a cart and a pair of oxen for a 
 short time,' says he. ' I'll do a week's work for you in return.' 
 
 ' But what do you want them for ? ' 
 
 ' To go to the forest for firewood.' 
 
 1 Well then, take them : only don't overburthen them.' 
 
 ' How could you think of such a thing, kind friend ! ' 
 
 So he brought the pair of oxen, and Woe got into the cart 
 with him, and away he drove into the open plain. 
 
 ' Master ! ' asks Woe, ' do you know the big stone on this 
 plain ? ' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 189 
 
 ' Of course I do.' 
 
 'Well then if you know it, drive straight up to it.' 
 
 They came to the place where it was, stopped, and got out of 
 the cart. Woe told the peasant to lift the stone ; the peasant 
 lifted it, Woe helping him. Well, when they had lifted it, there 
 was a pit underneath chock full of gold. 
 
 1 Now then, what are you staring at ! ' said Woe to the 
 peasant, ' be quick and pitch it into the cart.' 
 
 The peasant set to work and filled the cart with gold ; cleared 
 the pit to the very last ducat. When he saw there was nothing 
 more left : 
 
 1 Just give a look, W T oe,' he said ; ' isn't there some money left 
 in there ? ' 
 
 'Where?' said Woe, bending down ; ' I can't see a thing.' 
 
 ' Why there ; something is shining in yon corner ! ' 
 
 ' No, I can't see anything,' said Woe. 
 
 * Get into the pit ; you'll see it then.' 
 
 Woe jumped in : no sooner had it got there than the peasant 
 closed the mouth of the pit with the stone. 
 
 * Things will be much better like that,' said the peasant : 'if -I 
 were to take you home with me, O Woeful Woe, sooner or later 
 you'd be sure to drink away all this money too ! ' 
 
 The peasant got home, shovelled the money into his cellar, 
 took the oxen back to his neighbour, and set about considering 
 how he should manage. It ended in his buying a wood, building 
 a large homestead, and becoming twice as rich as his brother. 
 
 After a time he went into the town to invite his brother and 
 sister-in-law to spend his name-day with him. 
 
 1 What an idea ! ' said his rich brother : ' you haven't a thing 
 to eat, and yet you ask people to spend your name-day with 
 you !' 
 
 ' Well, there was a time when I had nothing to eat, but now, 
 thank God ! I've as much as you. If you come, you'll see for 
 yourself.' 
 
 4 So be it ! I'll come,' said his brother. 
 
190 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Next day the rich brother and his wife got ready, and went to 
 the name-day party. They could see that the former beggar had 
 got a new house, a lofty one, such as few merchants had ! And 
 the moujik treated them hospitably, regaled them with all sorts of 
 dishes, gave them all sorts of meads and spirits to drink. At 
 length the rich man asked his brother : 
 
 ' Do tell me by what good luck have you grown rich ? ' 
 
 The peasant made a clean breast of everything how Woe the 
 Woeful had attached itself to him, how he and Woe had drunk 
 away all that he had, to the very last thread, so that the only 
 thing that was left him was the soul in his body. How Woe 
 showed him a treasure in the open field, how he took that 
 treasure, and freed himself from Woe into the bargain. The rich 
 man became envious. 
 
 ' Suppose I go to the open field,' thinks he, ' and lift up the 
 stone and let Woe out. Of a surety it will utterly destroy my 
 brother, and then he will no longer brag of his riches before me ! * 
 
 So he sent his wife home, but he himself hastened into the 
 plain. When he came to the big stone, he pushed it aside, and 
 knelt down to see what was under it. Before he had managed to 
 get his head down low enough, Woe had already leapt out and 
 seated itself on his shoulders. 
 
 1 Ha ! ' it cried, ( you wanted to starve 'me to death in here ! 
 No, no ! Now will I never on any account depart from you.' 
 
 ' Only hear me, Woe ! ' said the merchant : * it wasn't I at all 
 who put you under the stone.' 
 
 ' Who was it then, if it wasn't you ? ' 
 
 ' It was my brother put you there, but I came on purpose to 
 let you out.' 
 
 * No, no ! that's a lie. You tricked me once ; you shan't trick 
 me a second time ! ' 
 
 Woe gripped the rich merchant tight by the neck ; the man 
 had to carry it home, arid there everything began to go wrong 
 with him. From the very first day Woe began again to play its 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 191 
 
 usual part, every day it called on the merchant to renew his 
 drinking. 1 Many were the valuables which went in the pot-house. 
 
 4 Impossible to go on living like this ! ' says the merchant to 
 himself. ' Surely I've made sport enough for Woe \ It's time to 
 get rid of it but how ? ' 
 
 He thought and thought, and hit on an idea. Going into the 
 large yard, he cut two oaken wedges, took a new wheel, and drove 
 a wedge firmly into one end of its axle-box. Then he went to 
 where Woe was : 
 
 1 Hallo, Woe ! why are you always idly sprawling there ? ' 
 
 * Why, what is there left for me to do ? ' 
 
 * What is there to do ! let's go into the yard and play at hide- 
 and-seek/ 
 
 Woe liked the idea. Out they went into the yard. First the 
 merchant hid himself; Woe found him immediately. Then it 
 was Woe's turn to hide. 
 
 1 Now then,' says Woe, ' you won't find me in a hurry ! There 
 isn't a chink I can't get into ! ' 
 
 I Get along with you ! ' answered the merchant. ' Why you 
 couldn't creep into that wheel there, and yet you talk about 
 chinks ! ' 
 
 I 1 can't creep into that wheel ? See if I don't go clean out of 
 sight in it .! ' 
 
 Woe slipped into the wheel; the merchant caught up the 
 oaken wedge, and drove it into the axle-box from the other side. 
 Then he seized the wheel and flung it, with Woe in it, into the 
 river. Woe was drowned, and the merchant began to live again 
 as he had been wont to do of old. 
 
 In a variant of this story found in the Tula Government 
 we have, in the place of woe, Nuzhda, or Need. The poor 
 brother and his wife are returning home disconsolately from 
 a party given by the rich brother in honour of his son's 
 
 1 Opokhmydit' 1 sya : 'to drink off the effects of his debauch.' 
 
192 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 marriage. But a draught of water which they take by the 
 way gets into their heads, and they set up a song. 
 
 'There are two of them singing, (says the story) but 
 three voices prolong the strain. 
 
 ' " Whoever is that ? " say they. 
 
 ' " Thy Need," answers some one or other. 
 
 ' " What, my good mother Need ! " 
 
 ' So saying the man laid hold of her, and took her down 
 from his shoulders for she was sitting on them. And he 
 found a horse's head and put her inside it, and flung it into 
 a swamp. And afterwards he began to lead a new life 
 impossible to live more prosperously.' 
 
 Of course the rich brother becomes envious and takes 
 Need out of the swamp, whereupon she clings to him so 
 tightly that he cannot get rid of her, and he becomes 
 utterly ruined. 1 
 
 In another story, from the Viatka Government, the poor 
 man is invited to a house-warming at his rich brother's, 
 but he has no present to take with him. 
 
 'We might borrow, but who would trust us ? 'says he. 
 
 ' Why there's ' Need ! ' replies his wife with a bitter 
 laugh. ' Perhaps she'll make us a present. Surely we've 
 lived on friendly terms with her for an age ! ' 
 
 ' Take the feast-day sarafan,' 2 cries Need from be- 
 hind the stove ; f and with the money you get for it buy a 
 ham and take it to your brother's.' 
 
 ' Have you been living here long, Need ? ' asks the 
 moujik. 
 
 ' Yes, ever since you and your brother separated.' 
 
 ' And have you been comfortable here ? ' 
 
 ' Thanks be to God, I get on tolerably ! ' 
 
 1 Erlenvein, No. 21. 2 Our ' Sunday gown.' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 193 
 
 The moujik follows the advice of Need, but meets with 
 a cold reception at his brother's. On returning sadly home 
 he finds a horse standing by the road side, with a couple of 
 bags slung across its back. He strikes it with his glove, 
 and it disappears, leaving behind it the bags, which turn 
 out to be full of gold. This he gathers up, and then goes 
 indoors. After finding out from his wife where she has 
 taken up her quarters for the night, he says : 
 ' And where are you, Need ? ' 
 ' In the pitcher which stands on the stove/ 
 After a time the moujik asks his wife if she is asleep. 
 ' Not yet/ she replies. Then he puts the same question to 
 Need, who gives no answer, having gone to sleep. So 
 he takes his wife's last sarafan, wraps up the pitcher in it, 
 and flings the bundle into an ice-hole. 1 
 
 In one of the * chap-book ' stories (a lubodwaya skazkci) a 
 poor man ' obtained a crust of bread and took it home to 
 provide his wife and boy with a meal, but just as he was 
 beginning to cut it, suddenly out from behind the stove 
 jumped Kruchina, 2 snatched the crust from his hands, and 
 fled back again behind the stove. Then the old man 
 began to bow down before Kruchina and to beseech him 3 
 to give back the bread, seeing that he and his had nothing 
 to eat. Thereupon Kruchina replied, ' I will not give you 
 back your crust, but in return for it I will make you a 
 present of a duck which will lay a golden egg every day/ 
 and kept his word. 4 
 
 In Little-Russia the peasantry believe in the existence 
 
 1 Afanasief, viii. p. 408. 
 
 2 Properly speaking grief, ' that which morally krushtt or crushes a man. 
 
 8 Kructilna, as an abstract idea, is of the feminine gender. But it is 
 here personified as a male being. 
 4 Afanasief, v. p. 237. 
 
 O 
 
I 9 4 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 of small beings, of vaguely defined form, called Zluidni, 
 who bring zlo or evil to every habitation in which they 
 take up their quarters. ' May the Zluidni strike him ! ' is 
 a Little-Russian curse, and ' The Zluidni have got leave for 
 three days; not in three years will you get rid* of them ! ' 
 is a White-Russian proverb. In a Little-Russian skazka a 
 poor man catches a fish and takes it as a present to his rich 
 brother, who says, * A splendid fish ! thank you, brother, 
 thank you ! ' but evinces no other sign of gratitude. On 
 his way home the poor man meets an old stranger and tells 
 him his story how he had taken his brother a fish, and 
 had got nothing in return but a ( thank ye.' 
 
 ' How ! ' cries the old man. A spasibo 1 is no small 
 thing. Sell it to me ! ' 
 
 ' How can one sell it ? ' replies the moujik. * Take it, 
 pray, as a present ! ' 
 
 ' So the spasibo is mine ! ' says the old man, and dis- 
 appears, leaving in the peasant's hands a purse full of 
 gold. 
 
 The peasant grows rich, and moves* into another house. 
 After a time his wife says to him 
 
 ' We've been wrong, Ivan, in leaving our mill-stones in 
 the old house. They nourished us, you see, when we were 
 poor ; but now, when they're no longer necessary to us, 
 we've quite forgotten them ! ' 
 
 ' Right you are/ replies Ivan, and sets off to fetch them. 
 When he reaches his old dwelling, he hears a voice saying 
 
 ' A bad fellow, that Ivan ! now he's rich, he's abandoned 
 us!' 
 
 1 Spasibo is the word in popular use as an expression of thanks, and it now 
 means nothing more than ' thank you ! ' But it is really a contraction of 
 spasi Bog! ' God save (you) ! ' as our ' Good-bye J ' is of ' God be with you ! ' 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 195 
 
 ' Who are you ? ' asks Ivan. ' I don't know you a bit.' 
 
 ' Not know us ! you've forgotten our faithful service, it 
 seems ! Why, we're your Zluidni ! ' 
 
 ' God be with you ! ' says he. ' I don't want you ! ' 
 
 ' No, no ! we will never part from you now ! ' 
 
 ' Wait a bit ! ' thinks Ivan, and then continues aloud,. 
 ' Very good, I'll take you ; but only on condition that you 
 bring home my mill-stones for me.' 
 
 So he laid the mill-stones on their backs, and made 
 them go on in front of him. They all had to pass along 
 a bridge over a deep river ; the moujik managed to give 
 the Zluidni a shove, and over they went, mill-stones and all, 
 and sank straight to the bottom. 1 
 
 There is a very curious Servian story of two brothers, 
 one of whom is industrious and unlucky, and the other idle 
 and prosperous. The poor brother one day sees a flock of 
 sheep, and near them a fair maiden spinning a golden 
 thread. 
 
 ' Whose sheep are these ? ' he asks. 
 
 ' The sheep are his whose I myself am,' she replies. 
 
 ' And whose art thou ? ' he asks. 
 
 ' I am thy brother's Luck,' she answers. 
 
 1 But where is my Luck ? ' he continues. 
 
 ' Far away from thee is thy Luck,' she replies. 
 
 4 But can I find her ? ' he asks. 
 
 ' Thou canst ; go and seek her,' she replies. 
 
 So the poor man wanders away in search of her. One 
 day he sees a grey-haired old woman asleep under an oak 
 in a great forest, who proves to be his Luck. He asks who 
 it is that has given him such a poor Luck, and is told that 
 it is Fate. So he goes in search of Fate. When he finds 
 
 1 Maksimovich, 'Tri Skazki' (quoted by Afanasief, viii. p. 406). 
 
 O 2 
 
196 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 her, she is living at ease in a large house, but day by day 
 her riches wane and her house contracts. She explains to 
 her visitor that her condition at any given hour affects the 
 whole lives of all children born at that time, and that he 
 had come into the world at a most unpropitious moment ; 
 and she advises him to take his niece Militsa (who had 
 been born at a lucky time) to live in his house, and to call 
 all he might acquire her property. This advice he follows, 
 and all goes well with him. One day, as he is gazing at a 
 splendid field of corn, a stranger asks him to whom it 
 belongs. In a forgetful moment he replies, ' It is mine,' 
 and immediately the whole crop begins to burn. He 
 runs after the stranger and cries, ' Stop, brother ! that field 
 isn't mine, but my niece Militsa's,' whereupon the fire goes 
 out and the crop is saved. 1 
 
 On this idea of a personal Fortune is founded the quaint 
 opening of one of the Russian stories. A certain peasant, 
 known as Ivan the Unlucky, in despair at his constant want 
 of success, goes to the king for advice. The king lays the 
 matter before * his nobles and generals,' but they can make 
 nothing of it. At last the king's daughter enters the 
 council chamber and says, ' This is my opinion, my father. 
 If he were to be married, the Lord might allot him another 
 sort of Fortune.' The king flies into a passion and ex- 
 claims : 
 
 1 Since you've settled the question better than all of us, 
 go and marry him yourself ! ' 
 
 The marriage takes place, and brings Ivan good luck 
 along with it 2 
 
 Similar references to a man's good or bad luck frequently 
 occur in the skazkas. Thus in one of them (from the 
 
 1 Vuk Karajich, No. 13. 2 Afanasief, viii. No. 21. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 197 
 
 Grodno Government) a poor man meets 'two ladies 
 (pannui), and those ladies are the one Fortune and the 
 other Misfortune.' l He tells them how poor he is, and they 
 agree that it will be well to bestow something on him. 
 ' Since he is one of yours/ says Luck, ' do you make him a 
 present. At length they take out ten roubles and give 
 them to him. He hides the money in a pot, and his wife 
 gives it away to a neighbour. Again they assist him, 
 giving him twenty roubles, and again his wife gives them 
 away unwittingly. Then the ladies bestow on him two 
 farthings (groshi), telling him to give them to fishermen, 
 and bid them make a cast ' for his luck.' He obeys, and 
 the result is the capture of a fish which brings him in 
 wealth. 2 
 
 In another story 3 a young man, the son of a wealthy 
 merchant, is so unlucky that nothing will prosper with him. 
 Having lost all that his father has left him, he hires himself 
 out, first as a labourer, then as a herdsman. But as, in each 
 capacity, he involves his masters in heavy losses, he soon 
 finds himself without employment. Then he tries another 
 country, in which the king gives him a post as a sort of 
 stoker in the royal distillery, which he soon all but burns 
 down. The king is at first bent upon punishing him, but 
 pardons him after hearing his sad tale. ' He bestowed on 
 him the name of Luckless, 4 and gave orders that a stamp 
 should be set on his forehead, that no tolls or taxes should 
 be demanded from him, and that wherever he appeared he 
 should be given free board and lodging, but that he should 
 
 1 Schastie and Neschastie \juda and Bad-luck the exact counterparts 
 of the Indian Lakshmi and Alakshmi. 
 
 2 Afanasief, iii. No. 9. 
 
 3 Afanasief, viii. pp. 32-4. 
 
 4 Bezdolny (bez = without ; dolya lot, share, etc.). 
 
198 'RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 never be allowed to stop more than twenty-four hours in 
 any one place.' These orders are obeyed, and wherever 
 Luckless goes, ' nobody ever asks him for his billet or his 
 passport, but they give him food to eat, and liquor to drink, 
 and a place to spend the night in ; and next morning they 
 take him by the scruff of the neck and turn him out of 
 doors.' l 
 
 We "will now turn from the forms under which popular 
 fiction has embodied some of the ideas connected with 
 Fortune and Misfortune, to another strange group of figures 
 the personifications of certain days of the week. Of these, 
 by far the most important is that of Friday. 
 
 The Russian name for that day, Pyatnitsa? has no such 
 mythological significance as have our own Friday and the 
 French Vendredi. But the day was undoubtedly conse- 
 crated by the old Slavonians to some goddess akin to 
 Venus orFreyja, and her worship in ancient times accounts 
 for the superstitions now connected with the name of 
 Friday. According to Afanasief, 3 the Corinthian name for 
 the day, Sibne dan, is a clear proof that it was once holy to 
 Siva, the Lithuanian Seewa, the Slavonic goddess answering 
 
 1 Everyone knows how frequent are the allusions to good and bad fortune 
 in Oriental fiction, so that there is no occasion to do more than allude to the 
 stories in which they occur one of the most interesting of which is that of 
 Vira-vara in the ' Hitopadesa ' (chap. iii. Fable 9), who finds one night a young 
 and beautiful woman, richly decked with jewels, weeping outside the city in 
 which dwells his royal master Sudraka, and asks her who she is, and why she 
 weeps. To which (in Mr. Johnson's translation) she replies ' I am the Fortune of 
 this King Sudraka, beneath the shadow of whose arm I have long reposed very 
 happily. Through the fault of the queen the king will die on the third day. 
 I shall be without a protector, and shall stay no longer ; therefore do I weep.' 
 On the variants of this story, see Benfey's ' Panchatantra,' i. pp. 415-16. 
 
 2 From pyat= five, Friday being the fifth working day. Similarly Tuesday 
 is called Vtornik, from vtoroi second ; Wednesday is Sereda, ' the middle ; ' 
 Thursday Chelverg, from chetverty = fourth. But Saturday is Subbbta. 
 
 3 P.V.S., i. 230. See also Buslaef, '1st. Och.' pp. 323, 503-4. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 199 
 
 to Ceres. In Christian times the personality of the goddess 
 (by whatever name she may have been known) to whom 
 Friday was consecrated became merged in that of St. 
 Prascovia, and she is now frequently addressed by the 
 compound name of 'Mother Pyatnitsa- Prascovia.' As 
 she is supposed to wander about the houses of the peasants 
 on her holy day, and to be offended if she finds certain 
 kinds of work going on, they are (or at least they used to be) 
 frequently suspended on Fridays. It is a sin, says a time- 
 honoured tradition, for a woman to sew, or spin, or weave, 
 or buck linen on a Friday, and similarly for a man to 
 plait bast shoes, twine cord, and the like. Spinning and 
 weaving are especially obnoxious to ' Mother Friday,' for 
 the dust and refuse thus produced injure her eyes. When 
 this takes place, she revenges herself by plagues of sore- 
 eyes, whitlows and agnails. In some places the villagers 
 go to bed early on Friday evening, believing that ' St. 
 Pyatinka ' will punish all whom she finds awake when she 
 roams through the cottage. In others they sweep their 
 floors every Thursday evening, that she may not be 
 annoyed by dust or the like when she comes next day. 
 Sometimes, however, she has been seen, says the popular 
 voice, ' all pricked with the needles and pierced by the 
 spindles ' of the careless woman who sewed and spun on 
 the day they ought to have kept holy in her honour. As 
 for any work begun on a Friday, it is sure to go wrong. 1 
 
 These remarks will be sufficient to render intelligible 
 the following story of 
 
 1 A tradition of our own relates that the Lords of the Admiralty, wishing 
 to prove the absurdity of the English sailor's horror of Friday, commenced a 
 ship on a Friday, launched her on a Friday, named her 'The Friday,' 
 procured a Captain Friday to command her, and sent her to sea on a Friday, 
 and she was never heard of again. 
 
200 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 FRIDAY. 1 
 
 THERE was once a certain woman who did not pay due reverence 
 to Mother Friday, but set to work on a distaff-ful of flax, combing 
 and whirling it. She span away" till dinner-time, then suddenly 
 sleep fell upon her such a deep sleep ! And when she had gone 
 to sleep, suddenly the door opened and in came Mother Friday, 
 before the eyes of all who were there, clad in a white dress, and 
 in such a rage ! And she went straight up to the woman who had 
 been spinning, scooped up from the floor a handful of the dust 
 that had fallen out of the flax, and began stuffing and stuffing that 
 woman's eyes full of it ! And when she had stuffed them full, she 
 went off in a rage disappeared without saying a word. 
 
 When the woman awoke, she began squalling at the top of her 
 voice about her eyes, but couldn't tell what was the matter with 
 them. The other women, who had been terribly frightened, began 
 to cry out : 
 
 ' Oh, you wretch, you ! you've brought a terrible punishment 
 on yourself from Mother Friday.' 
 
 Then they told her all that had taken place. She listened to 
 it all, and then began imploring : 
 
 ' Mother Friday, forgive me ! pardon me, the guilty one ! I'll 
 offer thee a taper, and I'll never let friend or foe dishonour thee, 
 Mother ! ' 
 
 Well, what do you think? During the night, back came 
 Mother Friday and took the dust out of that woman's eyes, 
 so that she was able to get about again. It's a great, sin to dis- 
 honour Mother Friday combing and spinning flax, forsooth ! 
 
 Very similar to this story is that about Wednesday 
 which follows. Wednesday, the day consecrated to Odin, 
 the eve of the day sacred to the Thundergod, 2 may also 
 
 1 Afanasief, 'Legendui,' No. 13. From the Tambof Government. 
 
 2 For an account of various similar superstitions connected with Wednesday 
 and Thursday, see Mannhardt's ' Germanische Mythen,' p. 15, 16, and W. 
 Schmidt's 'Das Jahr und seine Tage,' p. 19. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 201 
 
 have been held holy by the heathen Slavonians, but to some 
 commentators it appears more likely that the traditions now 
 attached to it in Russia became transferred to it from 
 Friday in Christian times Wednesday and Friday having 
 been associated by the Church as days sacred to the 
 memory of Our Lord's passion and death. The Russian 
 name for the day, Sereda or Sreda, means 'the middle/ 
 Wednesday being the middle of the working week. 
 
 WEDNESDAY. 1 
 
 A YOUNG housewife was spinning late one evening. It was during 
 the night between a Tuesday and a Wednesday. She had been 
 left alone for a long time, and after midnight, when the first cock 
 crew, she began to think about going to bed, only she would have 
 liked to finish spinning what she had in hand. ' Well,' thinks she, 
 * I'll get up a bit earlier in the morning, but just now I want to go 
 to sleep.' So she laid down her hatchel but without crossing 
 herself and said : 
 
 ' Now then, Mother Wednesday, lend me thy aid, that I may 
 get up early in the morning and finish my spinning.' And then 
 she went to sleep. 
 
 Well, very early in the morning, long before it was light, she 
 heard someone moving, bustling about the room. She opened her 
 eyes and looked. The room was lighted up. A splinter of fir 
 was burning in the cresset, and the fire was lighted in the stove. 
 A woman, no longer young, wearing a white towel by way of head- 
 dress, was moving about the cottage, going to and fro, supplying 
 the stove with firewood, getting everything ready. Presently she 
 came up to the young woman, and roused her, saying, * Get up ! ' 
 The young woman got up, full of wonder, and said : 
 
 ' But who art thou ! What hast thou come here for ? ' 
 
 * I am she on whom thou didst call. I have come to thy aid.' 
 
 1 Rhudyakof, No. 166. From the Orel Government. 
 
202 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' But who art thou ? On whom did I call ? ' 
 
 *I am Wednesday. On Wednesday surely thou didst call. 
 See, I have spun thy linen and woven thy web : now let us bleach 
 it and set it in the oven. The oven is heated and the irons are 
 ready : do thou go down to the brook and draw water/ 
 
 The woman was frightened, and thought : * What manner of 
 thing is this ? ' (or, * How can that be ? ') But Wednesday glared 
 at her angrily ; her eyes just did sparkle ! 
 
 So the woman took a couple of pails and went for water. As 
 soon as she was outside the door she thought : ' Mayn't something 
 terrible happen to me ? I'd better go to my neighbour's instead 
 of fetching the water/ So she set off. The night was dark. In 
 the village all were still asleep. She reached a neighbour's house, 
 and rapped away at the window until at last she made herself 
 heard. An aged woman let her in. 
 
 1 Why, child ! ' says the old crone ; < whatever hast thou got up 
 so early for ? What's the matter ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, granny, this is how it was. Wednesday has come to 
 me, and has sent me for water to buck my linen with/ 
 
 ' That doesn't look well,' says the old crone. ' On that linen 
 she will either strangle thee or scald l thee/ - 
 
 The old woman was evidently well acquainted with Wednes- 
 day's ways. 
 
 * What am I to do ? ' says the young woman. ' How can I 
 escape from this danger? ' 
 
 * Well, this is what thou must do. Go and beat thy pails to- 
 gether in front of the house, and cry, ' Wednesday's children have 
 been burnt at sea ! ' 2 She will run out of the house, and do thou 
 be sure to seize the opportunity to get into it before she comes back, 
 and immediately slam the door to, and make the sign of the cross 
 over it. Then don't let her in, however much she may threaten 
 
 1 Doubtful. The Russian word is * Svarit,' properly 'to cook.' 
 
 2 Compare the English nursery rhyme addressed to the lady-bird : 
 
 ' Lady-bird, lady -bird, fly away home, 
 Your house is a-fire, your children at home/ 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 203 
 
 you or implore you, but sign a cross with your hands, and draw 
 one with a piece of chalk, and utter a prayer. The Unclean Spirit 
 will have to disappear/ 
 
 Well, the young woman ran home, beat the pails together, and 
 cried out beneath the window : 
 
 ' Wednesday's children have been burnt at sea ! ' 
 Wednesday rushed out of the house and ran to look, and the 
 woman sprang inside, shut the door, and set a cross upon it. 
 Wednesday came running back, and began crying : ' Let me in, 
 my dear ! I have spun thy linen ; now will I bleach it.' But the 
 woman would not listen to her, so Wednesday went on knocking 
 at the door until cock-crow. As soon as the cocks crew, she 
 uttered a shrill cry and disappeared. But the linen remained 
 where it was. 1 
 
 In one of the numerous legends which the Russian 
 peasants hold in reverence, St. Petka or Friday appears 
 among the other saints, and together with her is mentioned 
 another canonized day, St. Nedelya or Sunday, 2 answer- 
 ing to the Greek St. Anastasia, to Der heilige Sonntag of 
 
 1 Wednesday in thjs, and Friday in the preceding story, are the exact 
 counterparts of Lithuanian Laumes. According to Schleicher (' Lituanica,' 
 p. 109), Thursday evening is called in Lithuania Laumiu vakars, the Laume's 
 Eve. No work ought to be done on a Thursday evening, and it is especially 
 imprudent to spin then. For at night, when the Laumes come, as they are 
 accustomed to do between Thursday evening and Friday morning, they seize 
 any spinning which has been begun, work away at it till cockcrow, and then 
 carry it off. In modern Greece the women attribute all nightly meddling with 
 their spinning to the Nerdides (the representatives of the Hellenic Nereids. 
 See Bernhard Schmidt's 'Volksleben der Neugriechen,' p. in). In some 
 respects the Neraida closely resembles the Lamia, and both of them have 
 many features in common with the Laume. The latter name (which in Lettish 
 is written Lauma) has never ^apen satisfactorily explained. Can it be con- 
 nected with the Greek Lamia, which is now written also as Ad/j.via, A 
 
 2 The word Nedyelya now means 'a week.' But it originally meant 
 Sunday, the non-working day (ne = not, dyelaf = to do or work). After a 
 time, the name for the first day of the week became transferred to the week 
 itself. 
 
204 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 German peasant-hagiology. In some respects she resem- 
 bles both Friday and Wednesday, sharing their views about 
 spinning and weaving at unfitting seasons. Thus in Little - 
 Russia she assures untimely spinners that it is not flax they 
 are spinning, but her hair, and in proof of this she shows 
 them her dishevelled kosa, or long back plait. 
 
 In one of the Wallachian tales l the hero is assisted in 
 his search after the dragon-stolen heroine by three super- 
 natural females the holy Mothers Friday, Wednesday, and 
 Sunday. They replace the three benignant Baba Yagas of 
 Russian stories. In another, 2 the same three beings assist 
 the Wallachian Psyche when she is wandering in quest of 
 her lost husband. Mother Sunday rules the animal world, 
 and can collect her subjects by playing on a magic flute. 
 She is represented as exercising authority over both birds 
 and beasts, and in a Slovak story she bestows on the hero 
 a magic horse. He has been sent by an unnatural mother 
 in search of various things hard to be obtained, but he is 
 assisted in the quest by St. Nedelka, who provides him with 
 various magical implements, and lends him her own steed 
 Tatoschik, and so enables him four times to escape from 
 the perils to which he has been exposed by his mother, 
 whose mind ^has been entirely corrupted by an insidious 
 dragon. But after he has returned home in safety, his 
 mother binds him as if in sport, and the dragon chops off 
 his head and cuts his body to pieces. His mother retains 
 his heart, but ties up the rest of him in a bundle, and sets 
 it on Tatoschik's back. The steed carries its ghastly 
 burden to St. Nedelka, who soon reanimates it, and the 
 youth becomes as sound and vigorous as a young man 
 
 1 That of ' Wilisch Witiasu,' Schott, No. II. 
 
 2 That of 'Trandafiru,' Schott, No. 23. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 205 
 
 without a heart can be. Then the saint sends him, under 
 the disguise of a begging piper, to the castle in which his 
 mother dwells, and instructs him how to get his heart back 
 again. He succeeds, and carries it in his hand to St. 
 Nedelka. She gives it to * the bird Pelekan, (no mere 
 Pelican, but a magic fowl with a very long and slim neck), 
 which puts its head down the youth's throat, and restores 
 his heart to its right place. 1 
 
 St. Friday and St. Wednesday appear to belong to that 
 class of spiritual beings, sometimes of a demoniacal dis- 
 position, with which the imagination of the old Slavonians 
 peopled the elements. Of several of these such as the 
 Domovoy or House-Spirit, the Rusalka or Naiad, and the 
 Vodyany or Water-Sprite I have written at some length 
 elsewhere, 2 and therefore I will not at present quote any of 
 the stories in which they figure. But, as a specimen of the 
 class to which such tales as these belong, here is a skazka 
 about one of the wood-sprites or Slavonic Satyrs, who are 
 still believed by the peasants to haunt the forests of Russia. 
 In it we see reduced to a vulgar form, and brought into 
 accordance with everyday peasant-life, the myth which 
 appears to have given rise to the endless stories about the 
 theft and recovery of queens and princesses. The leading 
 idea of the story is the same, but the Snake or Koshchei 
 has become a paltry wood-demon, the hero is a mere 
 
 1 J. Wenzig's ' Westslawischer Marchenschatz, ' pp. 144-155. According 
 to Wenzig Nedelka is ' the personified first Sunday after the new moon. ' The 
 part here attributed to St. Nedelka is played by a Vila in one of the Songs of 
 Montenegro. According to an ancient Indian tradition, the Aswattha-tree 
 ' is to be touched only on a Sunday, for on every other day Poverty or Mis- 
 fortune abides in it : on Sunday it is the residence of Lakshmi ' (Good For- 
 tune). H. H. Wilson ' Works,' iii. 70. 
 
 2 'Songs of the Russian People,' pp. 120-153. 
 
2o6 RUSSIAN FOLK TALES 
 
 hunter, and the princely heroine has sunk to the low estate 
 of a priest's daughter. 
 
 THE LfsHY. 1 
 
 A CERTAIN priest's daughter went strolling in the forest one day, 
 without having obtained leave from her father or her mother and 
 she disappeared utterly. Three years went by. ^ Now in the 
 village in which her parents dwelt there lived a bold hunter, who 
 went daily roaming through the thick woods with his dog and his 
 gun. One day he was going through the forest ; all of a sudden 
 his dog began to bark, and the hair of its back bristled up. The 
 sportsman looked, and saw lying in the woodland path before him 
 a log, and on the log there sat a moujik plaiting a bast shoe. 
 And as he plaited the shoe, he kept looking up at the moon, and 
 saying with a menacing gesture : 
 
 ' Shine, shine, O bright moon ! " 
 
 The sportsman was astounded. * How comes it,' thinks he, 
 ' that the moujik looks like that? he is still young; but his hair is 
 as grey as a badger's.' 2 
 
 He only thought these words, but the other replied, as if 
 guessing what he meant : t 
 
 1 Grey am I, being the devil's grandfather ! ' 3 
 
 Then the sportsman guessed that he had before him no mere 
 moujik, but a Leshy. He levelled his gun and bang ! he let 
 let him have it right in the paunch. The Leshy groaned, and 
 seemed to be going to fall across the log ; but directly afterwards 
 he got up and dragged himself into the thickets. After him ran 
 the dog in pursuit, and after the dog followed the sportsman. 
 He walked and walked, and came to a hill : in that hill was a 
 fissure, and in the fissure stood a hut. He entered the hut there 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 33. The name Leshy or Lyeshy is derived from lyes, 
 a forest. 
 
 2 Literally 'as a /;/,' a kind of hawk (fako rusticolus). Lun also means a 
 greyish light. 
 
 3 Ottogo ya i eyed chto chortof dyed. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 207 
 
 on a bench lay the Le'shy stone dead, and by his side sat a 
 damsel exclaiming, amid bitter tears : 
 
 ' Who now will give me to eat and to drink ? ' 
 
 * Hail, fair maiden ! ' says the hunter. Tell me whence thou 
 comest, and whose daughter thou art ? ' 
 
 ' Ah, good youth ! I know not that myself, any more than if I 
 had never seen the free light never known a father and mother.' 
 
 1 Well, get ready as soon as you can. I will take you back to 
 Holy Russia.' 
 
 So he took her away with him, and brought her out of the 
 forest. And all the way as he went along, he cut marks on the 
 trees. Now this damsel had been carried oif by the Leshy, and 
 had lived in his hut for three years her clothes were all worn out, 
 or had got torn off her back, so that she was stark naked ! but she 
 wasn't a bit ashamed of that. When they reached the village, the 
 sportsman began asking whether there was anyone there who had 
 lost a girl. Up came the priest, and cried, 'Why, that's my 
 daughter.' Up came running the priest's wife, and cried : 
 
 ' O thou dear child ! where hast thou been so long ? I had no 
 hope of ever seeing thee again.' 
 
 But the girl gazed and just blinked with her eyes, understand- 
 ing nothing. After a time, however, she began slowly to come 
 back to her senses. Then the priest and his wife gave her in mar- 
 riage to the hunter, and rewarded him with all sorts of good things. 
 And they went in search of the hut in which she had lived while 
 she was with the Leshy. Long did they wander about the forest ; 
 but that hut they never found. 
 
 To another group of personifications belong those of 
 the Rivers. About them many stories are current, gene- 
 rally having reference to their alleged jealousies and dis- 
 putes. Thus it is said that when God was allotting their 
 shares to the rivers, the Desna did not come in time, and so 
 failed to obtain precedence over the Dnieper. 
 
208 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Try and get before him yourself/ said the Lord. 
 
 The Desna set off at full speed, but in spite of all her 
 attempts, the Dnieper always kept ahead of her until he 
 fell into the sea, where the Desna was obliged to join him. 1 
 
 About the Volga and its affluent the Vazuza, the follow- 
 ing story is told : 
 
 VAZUZA AND VOLGA. 2 
 
 VOLGA and Vazuza had a long dispute as to which was the wiser, 
 the stronger, and the more worthy of high respect. They 
 wrangled and wrangled, but neither could gain the mastery in the 
 dispute, so they decided upon the following course. 
 
 1 Let us lie down together to sleep/ they said, ' and whichever 
 of us is the first to rise, and the quickest to reach the Caspian Sea, 
 she shall be held to be the wiser of us two, and the stronger, and 
 the worthier of respect.' 
 
 So Volga lay down to sleep ; down lay Vazuza also. But 
 during the night Vazuza rose silently, fled away from Volga, chose 
 the nearest and the straightest line, and flowed away. When 
 Volga awoke, she set off neither slowly nor hurriedly, but with 
 just befitting speed. At Zubtsof she came up with Vazuza. So 
 threatening was her mien, that Vazuza was frightened, declared 
 herself to be Volga's younger sister, and besought Volga to take 
 her in her arms and bear her to the Caspian Sea. And so to this 
 day Vazuza is the first to awake in the Spring, and then she 
 arouses Volga from her wintry sleep. 
 
 In the Government of Tula a similar tradition is current 
 about the Don and the Shat, both of which flow out of 
 Lake Ivan. 
 
 Lake Ivan had two sons, Shat and Don. Shat, contrary 
 to his father's wishes, wanted to roam abroad, so he set 
 
 1 Afanasief, P. V.S., ii. 226. 
 
 2 Afanasief, iv. No. 40. From the Tver Government. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 209 
 
 out on his travels, but go whither he would, he could get 
 received nowhere. So, after fruitless wanderings, he returned 
 home. 
 
 But Don, in return for his constant quietness (the 
 river is known as ' the quiet Don '), obtained his father's 
 blessing, and he boldly set out on a long journey. On the 
 way, he met a raven, and asked it where it was flying. 
 
 ' To the blue sea/ answered the raven. 
 
 1 Let's go together ! ' 
 
 Well, they reached the sea. Don thought to himself, 
 * If I dive right through the sea, I shall carry it away with 
 me.' 
 
 ' Raven ! ' he said, ' do *me a service. I am going to 
 plunge into the sea, but do you fly over to the other side ; 
 and as soon as you reach the opposite shore, give a croak/ 
 
 Don plunged into the sea. The raven flew and croaked 
 but too soon. Don remained just as he appears at the 
 present day. 1 
 
 In White-Russia there is a legend about two rivers, the 
 beginning of which has evidently been taken from the story 
 of Jacob and Esau : 
 
 SOZH AND DNIEPER. 
 
 THERE was once a blind old man called Dvina. He had two 
 sons the elder called Sozh, and the younger Dnieper. Sozh was 
 of a boisterous turn, and went roving about the forests, the hills, 
 and the plains ; but Dnieper was remarkably sweet-tempered, and 
 he spent all his time at home, and was his mother's favourite. 
 Once, when Sozh was away from home, the old father was 
 deceived by his wife into giving the elder son's blessing to the 
 younger son.- Thus spake Dvina while blessing him : 
 
 1 Translated literally from Afanasief, P. V.S., ii. 227. 
 
210 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Dissolve, my son, into a wide and deep river. Flow past 
 towns, and bathe villages without number as far as the blue sea. 
 Thy brother shall be thy servant. Be rich and prosperous to the 
 end of time ! ' 
 
 Dnieper turned into a river, and flowed through fertile 
 meadows and dreamy woods. But after three days, Sozh returned 
 home and began to complain. 
 
 ' If thou dost desire to become superior to thy brother/ said 
 his father, * speed swiftly by hidden ways, through dark untrodden 
 forests, and if thou canst outstrip thy brother, he will have to be 
 thy servant ! ' 
 
 Away, sped Sozh on the chase, through untrodden places, 
 washing away swamps, cutting out gullies, tearing up oaks by the 
 roots. The Vulture l told Dniepei of this, and he put on extra 
 speed, tearing his way through high hills rather than turn on one 
 side. Meanwhile Sozh persuaded the Raven to fly straight to 
 Dnieper, and, as soon as it had come up with him, to croak three 
 times ; he himself was to burrow under the earth, intending to leap 
 to the surface at the cry of the Raven, and by that means to get 
 before his brother. But the Vulture fell on the Raven ; the Raven 
 began to croak before it had caught up the river Dnieper. Up 
 burst Sozh from underground, and fell straight into the waves of 
 the Dnieper. 2 
 
 Here is an account of 
 THE METAMORPHOSIS OF THE DNIEPER, THE VOLGA, AND THE 
 
 DVINA. 3 
 
 THE Dnieper, Volga, and Dvina used once to be living people. 
 The Dnieper was a boy, and the Volga and Dvina his sisters. 
 "While they were still in childhood they were left complete orphans, 
 and, as they hadn't a crust to eat, they were obliged to get their 
 
 1 Yastreb - vulture or goshawk. 
 
 2 Quoted from Borichefsky (pp. 183-5) b y Afanasief. 
 8 Tereshchenko, v. 43, 44. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 211 
 
 living by daily labour beyond their strength. ' When was that ? ' 
 Very long ago, say the old folks ; beyond the memory even of our 
 great-grandfathers. 
 
 Well, the children grew up, but they never had even the 
 slightest bit of good luck. Every day, from morn till eve, it was 
 always toil and toil, and all merely for the day's subsistence. As 
 for their clothing, it was just what God sent them ! They some- 
 times found rags on the dust-heaps, and with these they managed 
 to cover their bodies. The poor things, had to endure cold and 
 hunger. Life became a burden to them. 1 
 
 One day, after toiling hard afield, they sat down under a bush 
 to eat their last morsel of bread. And when they had eaten it, 
 they cried and sorrowed for awhile, and considered and held 
 counsel together as to how they 'might manage to live, and to have 
 food and clothing, and, without toiling, to supply others with meat 
 and drink. Well, this is what they resolved : to set out wandering 
 about the wide world in search of good luck and a kindly 
 welcome, and to look for and find out the best places in 
 which they could turn into great rivers for that was a possible 
 thing then. 
 
 Well, they walked and walked ; not one year only, nor two 
 years, but all but three ; and they chose the places they wanted, 
 and came to an agreement as to where the flowing of each one 
 should begin. And all three of them stopped to spend the night 
 in a swamp. But the sisters were more cunning than their 
 brother. No sooner was Dnieper asleep than they rose up 
 quietly, chose the best and most sloping places, and began to flow 
 away. 
 
 When the brother awoke in the morning, not a trace of his 
 sisters was to be seen. Then he became wroth, and made haste 
 to pursue them. But on the way he bethought himself, and 
 decided that no man can run faster than a river. So he smote 
 the ground, and flowed in pursuit as a stream. Through gullies 
 
 1 Literally, ' Life disgusted th m worse than a bitter radish.' 
 
 P2 
 
212 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 and ravines he rushed, and the further he went the fiercer did he 
 become. But when he came within a few versts of the sea- shore, 
 his anger calmed down and he disappeared in the sea. And his 
 two sisters, who had continued running from him during his 
 pursuit, separated iri different directions and fled to the bottom of 
 the sea. But while the Dnieper was rushing along in anger,. he 
 drove his way between steep banks. Therefore is it that his flow 
 is swifter than that of the Volga and the Dvina ; therefore also is 
 it that he has many rapids and many mouths. 
 
 There is a small stream which falls into Lake Ilmen on 
 its western side, and which is called Chorny Ruchei, the 
 Black Brook. On the banks of this brook, a long time ago, 
 a certain man set up a mill, and the fish came and implored 
 the stream to grant them its aid, saying ' We used to have 
 room enough and be at our ease, but now an evil man is 
 taking away the water from us.' And the result was this. 
 One of the inhabitants of Novgorod was angling in the brook 
 Chorny. Up came a stranger to him, dressed all in black, 
 who greeted him, and said : 
 
 1 Do me a service, and I will show thee a place where the 
 fish swarm.' 
 
 ' What is the service ? ' 
 
 ' When thou art in Novgorod, thou wilt meet a tall, big 
 moujik in a plaited blue caftan, wide blue trowsers, and a 
 high blue hat. Say to him, " Uncle Ilmen ! the Chorny 
 has sent thee a petition, and has told me to say that a mill 
 has been set in his way. As thou may'st think fit to order, 
 so shall it be ! " ' 
 
 The Novgorod man promised to fulfil this request, and 
 the black stranger showed him a place where the fish 
 swarmed by thousands. With rich booty did the fisherman 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 213 
 
 return to Novgorod, where he met the moujik with the blue 
 caftan, and gave him the petition. The Ilmen answered : 
 
 ' Give my compliments to the brook Chorny, and say to 
 him about the mill : there used not to be one, and so there 
 shall not be one ! ' 
 
 This commission also the Novgorod man fulfilled, and 
 behold ! during the night the brook Chorny ran riotous, 
 Lake Ilmen waxed boisterous, a tempest arose, and the 
 raging waters swept away the mill. 1 
 
 In old times sacrifices were regularly paid to lakes and 
 streams in Russia, just as they were in Germany 2 and in 
 other lands. And even at the present day the common 
 people are in the habit of expressing, by some kind of offer- 
 ing, their thanks to a river on which they have made a pros- 
 perous voyage. It is said that Sterika Razin, the insurgent 
 chief of the Don Cossacks in the seventeenth century, once 
 offered a human sacrifice to the Volga. Among his captive 
 was a Persian princess to whom he was warmly attached 
 But one day ' when he was fevered with wine, as he sat at 
 the ship's side and musingly regarded the waves, he said : 
 " Oh, Mother Volga, thou great river ! much hast thou given 
 me of gold and of silver, and of all good things ; thou hast 
 nursed me, and nourished me, and covered me with glory 
 and honour. But I have in no way shown thee my grati- 
 tude. Here is somewhat for thee ; take it ! " And with 
 these words he caught up the princess and flung her into 
 the water.' 3 
 
 Just as rivers might be conciliated by honour and sacri- 
 fice, so they could be irritated by disrespect. One of the old 
 songs tells how a youth comes riding to the Smorodina, 
 
 1 Translated literally from Afanasief, P. V.S. ii. 230. 
 
 2 'Deutsche Mythologie,' 462. 3 Afanasief, loc. cif. p. 231. 
 
214 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 and beseeches that stream to show him a ford. His prayer 
 is granted, and he crosses to the other side. Then he takes 
 to boasting, and says, ' People talk about the Smorodina, 
 saying that no one can cross it whether on foot or on horse- 
 back but it is no better than a pool of rain-water ! ' But 
 when the time comes for him to cross back again, the river 
 takes its revenge, and drowns him in its depths, saying the 
 while : * It is not I, but thy own boasting that drowns thee.' 
 From these vocal rivers we will now turn to that ele- 
 mentary force by which in winter they are so often rendered 
 mute. In the story which is now about to be quoted will 
 be found a striking personification of Frost. As a general 
 rule, Winter plays by no means so important a part as 
 might have been expected in Northern tales. As in other 
 European countries, so in Russia, the romantic stories, of 
 the people are full of pictures bathed in warm sunlight, but 
 they do not often represent the aspect of the land when the 
 sky is grey, and the earth is a sheet of white, and out-door 
 life is sombre and still. Here and there, it is true, 
 glimpses of snowy landscapes are offered by the skazkas. 
 But it is seldom that a wintry effect is so deliberately pro- 
 duced in them as is the case in the following remarkable 
 version of a well-known tale. 
 
 FROST. 1 
 
 THERE was once an old man who had a wife and three daughters. 
 The wife had no love for the eldest of the three, who was her step- 
 daughter, but was always scolding her. Moreover, she used to 
 make her get up ever so early in the morning, and gave her all 
 the work of the house to do. Before daybreak the girl would feed 
 the cattle and give them to drink, fetch wood and water indoors, 
 
 1 Afanasief, iv. No. 42. From the Vologda Government. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 215 
 
 light the fire in the stove, give the room a wash, mend the dresses, 
 and set everything in order. Even then her stepmother was 
 never satisfied, but would grumble away at Marfa, exclaiming : 
 
 ' What a lazybones ! what a slut ! Why here's a brush not in 
 its place, and there's something put wrong, and she's left the muck 
 inside the house ! ' 
 
 The girl held her peace, and wept ; she tried in every way to 
 accommodate herself to her stepmother, and to be of service to 
 her stepsisters. But they, taking pattern by their mother, were 
 always insulting Marfa, quarrelling with her, and making her cry : 
 that was even a pleasure to them ! As for them, they lay in 
 bed late, w r ashed themselves in water got ready for them, dried 
 themselves with a clean towel, and didn't sit down to work till 
 after dinner. 
 
 Well, our girls grew and grew, until they grew up and were old 
 enough to be married. The old man felt sorry for his eldest 
 daughter, whom he loved because she was industrious and 
 obedient, never was obstinate, always did as she was bid, and 
 never uttered a word of contradiction. But he didn't know how 
 he was to help her in her trouble. He was feeble, his wife was a 
 scold, and her daughters were as obstinate as they were indolent. 
 
 Well, the old folks set to work to consider the husband how 
 he could get his daughters settled, the wife how she could get rid 
 of the eldest one. One day she says to him : 
 
 * I say, old man ! let's get Marfa married.' 
 
 ' Gladly/ says he, slinking off (to the sleeping-place) above the 
 .stove. But his wife called after him : 
 
 * Get up early to-morrow, old man, harness the mare to the 
 sledge, and drive away with Marfa. And, Marfa, get your things 
 together in a basket, and put on a clean shift ; you're going away 
 to-morrow on a visit.' 
 
 Poor Marfa was delighted to hear of such a piece of good luck 
 as being invited on a visit, and she slept comfortably all night. 
 Early next morning she got up, washed herself, prayed to God, 
 got all her things together, packed them away in proper order, 
 
216 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 dressed herself (in her best things), and looked something like a 
 lass ! a bride fit for any place whatsoever ! 
 
 Now it was winter time, and out of doors was a rattling frost. 
 Early in the morning, between daybreak and sunrise, the old man 
 harnessed the mare to the ^edge, and led it up to the steps. 
 Then he went indoors, sat down on the window-sill, and said : 
 
 ' Now then ! I've got everything ready.' 
 
 * Sit down to table and swallow your victuals ! ' replied the old 
 woman. 
 
 The old man sat down to table, and made his daughter sit 
 by his side. On the table stood a pannier; he took out a loaf, 1 
 and cut bread for himself and his daughter. Meantime his wife 
 served up a dish of old cabbage soup, and said : 
 
 ' There, my pigeon, eat and be off ; I've looked at you quite 
 enough ! Drive Marfa to her bridegroom, old man. And look 
 here, old greybeard ! drive straight along the road at first, and 
 then turn off from the road to the right, you know, into the forest 
 right up to the big pine that stands on the hill, and there hand 
 Marfa over to Morozko (Frost).' 
 
 The old man opened his eyes wide, also his mouth, and 
 stopped eating, and the girl began lamenting. , 
 
 ' Now then, what are you hanging your chaps and squealing 
 about ? ' said her stepmother. ' Surely your bridegroom is a 
 beauty, and he's that rich ! Why, just see what a lot of things 
 belong to him : the firs, the pine-tops, and the birches, all in 
 their robes of down ways and means that anyone might envy ; 
 and he himself a bogatir !^ 
 
 The old man silently placed the things on the sledge, made 
 his daughter put on a warm pelisse, and set off on the journey. 
 After a time, he reached the forest, turned off from the road, and 
 
 1 CJielpan, a sort of dough cake, or pie without stuffing. 
 
 - Bogatir is the regular term for a Russian 'hero of romance.' Its origin 
 is disputed, but it appears to be of Tartar extraction. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 217- 
 
 drove across the frozen snow. 1 When he got into tne depths of 
 the forest, he stopped, made his daughter get . out, laid her basket 
 under the tall pine, and said : 
 
 ' Sit here, and await the bridegroom. And mind you receive 
 him as pleasantly as you can.' 
 
 Then he turned his horse round and drove off homewards. 
 
 The girl sat and shivered. The cold had pierced her through. 
 She would fain have cried aloud, but she had not strength enough ; 
 only her teeth chattered. Suddenly she heard a sound. Not far 
 off, Frost was cracking away on a fir. From fir to fir was he 
 leaping, and snapping his fingers. Presently he appeared on that 
 very pine under which the maiden was sitting, and from above her 
 head he cried : 
 
 ' Art thou warm, maiden ? ' 
 
 * Warm, warm am I, dear Father Frost,' she replied. 
 
 Frost began to descend lower, all the more cracking and 
 snapping his fingers. To the maiden said Frost : 
 
 1 Art thou warm, maiden ? Art thou warm, fair one ? ' 
 
 The girl could scarcely draw her breath, but still she replied : 
 
 * Warm am I, Frost dear ; warm am I, father dear ! ' 
 
 Frost began cracking more than ever, and more loudly did he 
 snap his fingers, and to the maiden he said : 
 
 ' Art thou warm, maiden ? Art thou warm, pretty one ? Art 
 thou warm, my darling ? J 
 
 The girl was by this time numb with cold, and she could 
 scarcely make herself heard as she replied : 
 
 ' Oh ! quite warm, Frost dearest ! ' 
 
 Then Frost took pity on the girl, wrapped her up in furs, and 
 warmed her with blankets. 
 
 Next morning the old woman said to her husband : 
 
 ' Drive out, old greybeard, and wake the young couple ! ' 
 
 The old man harnessed. his horse and drove off. When he 
 came to where his daughter was, he found she was alive and had 
 
 1 Nast, snow that has thawed and frozen arain. 
 
21 8 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 got a good pelisse, a costly bridal veil, and a pannier with rich 
 .gifts. He stowed everything away on the sledge without saying a 
 word, took his seat on it with his daughter, and drove back. 
 They reached home, and the daughter fell at her stepmother's 
 feet. The old woman was thunderstruck when she saw the girl 
 alive, and the new pelisse and the basket of linen. 
 
 ' Ah, you wretch ! ' she cries. ' But you shan't trick me ! ' 
 Well, a little later the old woman says to her husband : 
 ' Take my daughters, too, to their bridegroom. The presents 
 he's made are nothing to what he'll give them.' 
 
 Well, early next morning the old woman gave her girls their 
 breakfast, dressed them as befitted brides, and sent them off on 
 their journey. In the same way as before the old man left the 
 girls under the pine. 
 
 There the girls sat, and kept laughing and saying : 
 ' Whatever is mother thinking of ! All of a sudden to marry 
 both of us off ! As if there were no lads in our village, forso" oth ! 
 Some rubbishy fellow may come, and goodness knows who he may 
 be!' 
 
 The girls were wrapped up in pelisses, but for all that they felt 
 the cold. 
 
 * I say, Prascovia ! the frost's skinning me alive. Well, if our 
 bridegroom l doesn't come quick, we shall be frozen to death here ! ' 
 
 ' Don't go talking nonsense, Mashka ; as if suitors 2 turned up 
 in the forenoon. Why it's hardly dinner-time yet ! ' 
 
 * But I say, Prascovia ! if only one comes, which of us will he 
 take?' 
 
 1 Not you, you stupid goose ! ' 
 ' Then it will be you, I suppose ! ' 
 4 Of course it will be me ! ' 
 
 ' You, indeed ! there now, have done talking stuff and treating 
 people like fools ! ' 
 
 Meanwhile, Frost had numbed the girls' hands, so our damsels 
 
 1 Suzhenoi-ryazhenoi. 2 Zhenikhi. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 219 
 
 folded them under their dress, and then went on quarrelling as 
 before. 
 
 4 What, you fright ! you sleepy-face ! you abominable shrew ! 
 why, you don't know so much as how to begin weaving ; and as 
 to going on with it, you haven't an idea ! ' 
 
 ' Aha, boaster ! and what is it you know ? Why, nothing at 
 all except to go out to merry-makings and lick your lips there. 
 We'll soon see which he'll take first ! ' 
 
 While the girls went on scolding like that, they began to freeze 
 in downright earnest. Suddenly they both cried out at once : 
 
 * Whyever is he so long coming ? Do you know, you've turned 
 quite blue ! ' 
 
 Now, a good way off, Frost had begun cracking, snapping his 
 fingers, and leaping from fir to fir. To the girls it sounded as if 
 some one was coming. 
 
 * Listen, Prascovia ! He's coming at last, and with bells, too ! ' 
 ' Get along with you ! I won't listen ; my skin is peeling 
 
 with cold.' 
 
 1 And yet you're still expecting to get married ! ' 
 
 Then they began blowing on their fingers. 
 
 Nearer and nearer came Frost. At length he appeared oh the 
 pine, above the heads of the girls, and said to them : 
 
 ' Are ye warm, maidens ? Are ye warm, pretty ones ? Are ye 
 warm, my darlings ? ' 
 
 ' Oh, Frost, it's awfully cold ! we're utterly perished ! We're 
 expecting a bridegroom, but the confounded fellow has dis- 
 appeared.' 
 
 Frost slid lower down the tree, cracked away more, snapped 
 his fingers oftener than before. 
 
 ' Are ye warm, maidens ? Are ye warm, pretty ones ? ' 
 
 ' Get along with you ! Are you blind that you can't see our 
 hands and feet are quite dead ? ' 
 
 Still lower descended Frost, still more put forth his might, 1 and 
 said : 
 
 1 Sirno priudaril, mightily smote harder. 
 
220 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Are ye warm, maidens ? ' 
 
 1 Into the bottomless pit with you ! Out of sight, accursed 
 one ! ' cried the girls and became lifeless forms. 1 
 
 Next morning the old woman said to her husband : 
 
 'Old man, go and get the sledge harnessed; put an armful of 
 hay in it, and take some sheepskin wraps. I daresay the girls are 
 half- dead with cold. There's a terrible frost outside ! And, mind 
 you, Old greybeard, do it quickly ! ' 
 
 Before the old man could manage to get a bite he was out of 
 doors and on his way. When he came to where his daughters 
 were, he found them dead. So he lifted the girls on to the sledge, 
 wrapped a blanket round them, and covered them up with a 
 bark mat. The old woman saw him from afar, ran out to meet 
 him, and called out ever so loud : 
 
 1 Where are the girls ? ' 
 
 ' In the sledge.' 
 
 The old woman lifted the mat, undid the blanket, and found 
 the girls both dead. 
 
 Then, like a thunderstorm, she broke out against her husband, 
 abusing him, and saying : 
 
 ' What have you done, you old wretch? You have destroyed 
 my daughters, the children of my own flesh and blood, my never- 
 enough-to-be-gazed-on seedlings, my beautiful berries ! I will 
 thrash you with the tongs ; I will give it you with the stove-rake.' 
 
 6 That's enough, you old goose ! You flattered yourself you 
 were going to get riches, but your daughters were too stiff-necked. 
 How was I to blame ? it was you yourself would have it.' 
 
 The old woman was in a rage at first, and used bad language ; 
 but afterwards she made it up with her stepdaughter, and they all 
 lived together peaceably, and thrived, and bore no malice. A 
 neighbour made an offer of marriage, the wedding was celebrated, 
 and Marfa is now living happily. The old man frightens his. 
 grandchildren with (stories about) Frost, and doesn't let them have 
 their own way. 
 
 1 Okostenydi) were petrified. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 221 
 
 In a variant from the Kursk Government (Afanasief IV. 
 No 42. b), the stepdaughter is left by her father ' in the 
 open plain.' There she sits, ' trembling and silently offering 
 up a prayer.' Frost draws near, intending ' to smite her 
 and to freeze her to death.' But when he says to her, 
 ' Maiden, maiden, I am Frost the Red-Nosed/ she replies, 
 ' Welcome, Frost ; doubtless God has sent you for my sinful 
 soul.' Pleased by her ' wise words,' Frost throws a warm 
 cloak over her, and afterwards presents her with 'robes 
 embroidered with silver and gold, and a chest containing a 
 rich dowry.' The girl put on the robes, and appears ' such 
 a beauty ! ' Then she sits on the chest and sings songs. 
 Meantime her stepmother is baking cakes and preparing 
 for her funeral. After a time her father sets out in search 
 of her dead body. But the dog beneath the table barks 
 ' Taff ! Taff ! The master's daughter in silver and gold by 
 the wedding party is borne along, but the mistress's daugh- 
 ter is wooed by none ! ' In vain does its mistress throw it 
 a cake, and order it to modify its remarks. It eats the 
 cake, but it repeats its offensive observations, until the step- 
 daughter appears in all her glory. Then the old woman's 
 own daughter is sent afield. Frost comes to have a look 
 at his new guest, expecting ' wise words ' from her too. But 
 as none are forthcoming, he waxes wroth, and kills her. 
 When the old man goes to fetch her, the dog barks ' Taff ! 
 Taff! The master's daughter will be borne along by the 
 bridal train, but the bones of the mistress's daughter are 
 being carried in a bag,' and continues to bark in the same 
 strain until the yard-gates open. The old woman runs out 
 to greet her daughter, and ' instead of her embraces a cold 
 corpse.' 
 
 To the Russian peasants, it should be observed, Moroz, 
 
222 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 our own Jack Frost, is a living personage. On Christmas 
 Eve it is customary for the oldest man in each family to 
 take a spoonful of kissel, a sort of pudding ; and then, having 
 put his head through the window, to cry : 
 
 ' Frost, Frost, come and eat kissel ! Frost, Frost, do not 
 kill our oats ! drive our flax and hemp deep into the 
 ground.' 
 
 The Tcheremisses have similar ideas, and are afraid of 
 knocking the icicles off their houses, thinking that, if they 
 do so, Frost will wax wroth and freeze them to death. In 
 one of the Skazkas, a peasant goes out one day to a field 
 of buckwheat, and finds it all broken down. He goes 
 home, and tells the bad news to his wife, who says, ' It is 
 Frost who has done this. Go and find him, and make him 
 pay for the damage ! ' So the peasant goes into the forest, 
 and, after wandering about for some time, lights upon a 
 path which leads him to a cottage made of ice, covered 
 with snow, and hung with icicles. He knocks at the door, 
 and out comes an old man 'all white.' This is Frost, 
 who presents him with the magic cudgel and table-cloth 
 which work wonders in so many of the tales. 1 In another 
 story, a peasant meets the Sun, the Wind, and the Frost. 
 He bows to all three, but adds an extra salutation to the 
 Wind. This enrages the two others, and the Sun cries out 
 that he will burn up the peasant. But the Wind says, ' I will 
 blow cold, and temper the heat/ Then the Frost threatens 
 to freeze the peasant to death, but the Wind comforts him, 
 saying, ' I will blow warm, and will not let you be hurt.' 2 
 
 Sometimes the Frost is described by the people as a 
 mighty smith, who forges strong chains with which to bind 
 the earth and the waters as in the saying ' The Old One 
 
 1 Afanasief, P. V.S. i. 318-19. 2 Ibid. i. 312. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 223, 
 
 has built a bridge without axe and without knife ' i.e. the 
 river is frozen over. Sometimes Moroz-Treskun, the Crack- 
 ling Frost, is spoken of without disguise as the preserver of 
 the hero who is ordered to enter a bath which has been 
 heated red-hot. Frost goes into the bath, and breathes 
 with so icy a breath that the heat of the building turns at 
 once to cold. 1 
 
 The story in which Frost so singularly figures is one 
 which is known in many lands, and of which many variants 
 are current in Russia. The jealous hatred of a stepmother, 
 who exposes her stepdaughter to some great peril, has been 
 made the theme of countless tales. What gives its special 
 importance, as well as its poetical charm, to the skazka 
 which has been quoted, is the introduction of Frost as the 
 power to which the stepmother has recourse for the further- 
 ance of her murderous plans, and by which she, in the persons 
 of her own daughters, is ultimately punished. We have 
 already dealt with one specimen of the skazkas of this class, 
 the story of Vasilissa, who is sent to the Baba Yaga's for a 
 light. Another, still more closely connected with that of 
 ' Frost,' occurs in Khudyakof s collection. 2 
 
 A certain woman ordered her husband (says the story) 
 to make away with his daughter by a previous marriage. 
 So he took the girl into the forest, and left her in a kind of 
 hut, telling her to prepare some soup while he was cutting 
 wood. ' At that time there was a gale blowing. The old 
 man tied a log to a tree ; when the wind blew, the log 
 
 1 As with Der Frostige in the German story of ' Die sechs Diener,' KM, 
 No. 134, p. 519, and 'The Man with the White Hat,' in that of Sechse 
 kommen clurch die ganze Welt,' No. 71, p. 295, and their variants in 
 different lands. See Grimm, iii. p. 122^ 
 
 2 No. 13, 'The Stepmother's Daughter and the Stepdaughter,' written 
 down in Kazan. 
 
.224 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 rattled. She thought the old man was going on cutting 
 wood, but in reality he had gone away home.' 
 
 When the soup was ready, she called out to her father 
 to come to dinner. No reply came from him, * but there 
 was a human head in the forest, and it replied " I'm coming 
 immediately ! " And when the Head arrived, it cried, 
 " Maiden, open the door ! " She opened it. " Maiden, 
 Maiden ! lift me over the threshold ! " She lifted it over. 
 "Maiden, Maiden! put the dinner on the table!" She 
 did so, and she and the Head sat down to dinner. When 
 they had dined, " Maiden, Maiden ! " said the Head, " take 
 me off the bench ! " She took it off the bench, and cleared 
 the table. It lay down to sleep on the bare floor ; she lay 
 on the bench. She fell asleep, but it went into the forest 
 after its servants. The house became bigger ; servants, 
 horses, everything one could think of suddenly appeared. 
 The servants came to the maiden, and said, " Get up ! it's 
 time to go for a drive ! " So she got into a carriage with 
 the Head, but she took a cock along with her. She told 
 the cock to crow ; it crowed. Again she told it to crow ; 
 it crowed again. And a third time she told it to crow. 
 When it had crowed for the third time, the Head fell to 
 pieces, and became a heap of golden coins.' 1 
 
 Then the stepmother sent her own daughter into the 
 forest. Everything occurred as before, until the Head 
 arrived. Then she was so frightened that she tried to hide 
 
 /Mi**. W/nDu' 
 
 1 This is a thoroughly Bndmiiitie idea. According to 'Buddhiot belief, the 
 treasure which has belonged to anyone in a former existence may come' to him 
 in the shape of a man who, when killed, turns to gold. The first story of the 
 fifth book of the * Panchatantra, ' is based upon an idea of this kind. A man is 
 told in a vision to kill a monk. He does so, and the monk becomes a heap of 
 gold. A barber, seeing this, kills several monks, but to no purpose. See 
 Benfey's Introduction, pp. 477-8. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 225 
 
 herself, and she would do nothing for the Head, which had 
 to dish up its own dinner, and eat it by itself. And so 
 ' when she lay down to sleep, it ate her up.' 
 
 In a story in Chudinsky's collection, the stepdaughter 
 is sent by night to watch the rye in an ovin, 1 or corn-kiln. 
 Presently a stranger appears and asks her to marry him. 
 She replies that she has no wedding-clothes, upon which he 
 brings her everything she asks for. But she is very careful 
 not to ask for more than one thing at a time, and so the 
 cock crows before her list of indispensable necessaries is 
 exhausted. The stranger immediately disappears, and she 
 carries off her presents in triumph. 
 
 The next night her stepsister is sent to . the ovin, and 
 the stranger appears as before, and asks her to marry him. 
 She, also, replies that she has no wedding-clothes, and he 
 offers to supply her with what she wants. Whereupon, 
 instead of asking for a number of things one after the 
 other, she demands them all at once ' Stockings, garters, 
 a petticoat, a dress, a comb, earrings, a mirror, soap, white 
 paint and rouge, and everything which her stepsister had 
 got/ Then follows the catastrophe. 
 
 The stranger brought her everything, all at once. 
 ' Now then/ says he, ' will you marry me now ? ' 
 1 Wait a bit,' said the stepmother's daughter, c I'll wash and 
 dress, and whiten myself and rouge myself, and then I'll marry 
 you ? ' And straightway she set to work washing and dressing 
 and she hastened and hurried to get all that done she wanted so 
 awfully to see herself decked out as a bride. By-and-by she was 
 quite dressed but the cock had not yet crowed. 
 
 1 For an account of the ovin, and the respect paid to it or to the demons 
 supposed to haunt it, see ' The Songs of the Russian People,' p. 257. 
 
 Q 
 
22 6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Well, maiden ! ' says he, ' will you marry me now ? ' 
 ' I'm quite ready,' says she. 
 Thereupon he tore her to pieces. 1 
 
 There is one other of those personifications of natural 
 forces which play an active part in the Russian tales, about 
 which a few words may be said. It often happens that the 
 heroine-stealer whom the hero of the story has to overcome 
 is called, not Koshchei nor the Snake, but Vikhor, 2 the 
 whirlwind. Here is a brief analysis of part of one of the 
 tales in which this elementary abducer figures. There was 
 a certain king, whose wife went out one day to walk in the 
 garden. ' Suddenly a gale (vyeter) sprang up. In the gale 
 was the Vikhor-bird. Vikhor seized the Queen, and carried 
 her off.' She left three sons, and they, when they came to 
 man's estate, said to their father ' Where is our mother ? 
 If she be dead, show us her grave ; if she be living, tell us 
 where to find her.' 
 
 ' I myself know not where your mother is,' replied 
 the King. ' Vikhor carried her off.' 
 
 ' Well then,' they said, ' since Vikhor carried her off, 
 and she is alive, give us your blessing. We will go in 
 search of our mother.' 
 
 All three set out, but only the youngest, Prince Vasily, 
 succeeded in climbing the steep hill, whereon stood the 
 palace in which his mother and Vikhor lived. Entering it 
 during Vikhor's absence, the Prince made himself known to, 
 his mother, ' who straightway gave him to eat, and con- 
 cealed him in a distant apartment, hiding him behind a 
 
 1 Chudinsky, No. 13. ' The Daughter and the Stepdaughter.' From the 
 Nijegorod Government. 
 
 ' Vikhr 1 or Vikhoi* from vit\ to whirl or twist. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 227 
 
 number of cushions, so that Vikhor might not easily dis- 
 cover him.' And she gave him these instructions. ' If 
 Vikhor comes, and begins quarrelling, don't come forth ; 
 but if he takes to chatting, come forth and say, " Hail, 
 father ! " and seize hold of the little finger of his right hand, 
 and wherever he flies do you go with him.' 
 
 Presently Vikhor came flying in, and addressed the 
 Queen angrily. Prince Vasily remained concealed until his 
 mother gave him a hint to come forth. This he did, and 
 then greeted Vikhor, and caught hold of his right little 
 finger. Vikhor tried to shake him off, flying first about the 
 house and then out of it, but all in vain. At last Vikhor, 
 after soaring on high, struck the ground, and fell to pieces, 
 becoming a fine yellow sand. ' But the little finger re- 
 mained in the possession of Prince Vasily, who scraped to- 
 gether the sand and burnt it in the stove.' l 
 
 With a mention of two other singular beings who occur 
 in the Skazkas, the present chapter may be brought to a 
 close. The first is a certain Morfei (Morpheus ?) who figures 
 in the following variant of a well-known tale. 
 
 There was a king, and he had a daughter with whom a 
 general who lived over the way fell in love. But the king 
 would not let him marry her unless he went where none 
 had been, and brought back thence what none had seen: 
 After much consideration the general set out and travelled 
 ' over swamps, hills, and rivers.' At last he reached a wood 
 in which was a hut, and inside the hut was an old crone. 
 To her he told his story, after hearing which, she cried out, 
 ' Ho there ! Morfei, dish up the meal ! ' and immediately 
 
 : Khuclyakof, No. 82. The story ends in the same way as that of Norka. 
 See supra, p. 73. 
 
 Q2 
 
228 \ RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 a dinner appeared of which the old crone made the general 
 partake. And next day * she presented that cook to the 
 general, ordering him to serve the general honourably, as 
 he had served her. The general took the cook and 
 departed.' By-and-by he came to a river and was appealed 
 to for food by a shipwrecked crew. ' Morfei, give them to 
 eat ! ' he cried, and immediately excellent viands appeared, 
 with which the mariners were so pleased that they gave 
 the general a magic volume in exchange for his cook who, 
 however, did not stay with them but secretly followed his 
 master. A little later the general found another ship- 
 wrecked crew, who gave him, in exchange for his cook, a 
 sabre and a towel, each of magic power. Then the general 
 returned to his own city, and his magic properties enabled 
 him to convince the king that he was an eligible suitor for 
 the hand of the Princess. 1 
 
 The other is a mysterious personage who name is ' Oh ! ' 
 The story in which he appears is one with which many 
 countries are familiar, and of which numerous versions are 
 to be found in Russia. A father sets out with his boy for 
 * the bazaar/ hoping to find a teacher there who will instruct 
 the child in such science as enables people ' to work little, 
 and feed delicately, and dress well.' After walking a long 
 way the man becomes weary and exclaims, ( Oh ! I'm so 
 tired ! ' Immediately there appears ' an old magician/ who 
 says 
 
 * Why do you call me ? ' 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. 86. Morfei the Cook is merely a development of the 
 magic cudgel which in so many stories (e.g. the sixth of the Calmuck tales) 
 is often exchanged for other treasures by its master, to whom it soon 
 returns it being itself a degraded form of the hammer of Thor, the lance of. 
 Indra, which always came back to the divine hand that had hurled it. 
 
MYTHOLOGICAL 229 
 
 ' I didn't call you,' replies the old man. ' I don't even 
 know who you are.' 
 
 ' My name is Oh/ says the magician, ' and you cried 
 " Oh ! " Where are you taking that boy ? ' 
 
 The father explains what it is he wants, and the magi- 
 cian undertakes to give the boy the requisite education, 
 charging ' one assignat rouble ' for a year's tuition. 1 
 
 The teacher, in this story, is merely called a magician ; 
 but as in other Russian versions of it his counterpart is 
 always described as being demoniacal, and is often openly 
 styled a devil, it may be assumed that Oh belongs to the 
 supernatural order of beings. It is often very difficult, 
 however, to distinguish magicians from fiends in storyland, 
 the same powers being generally wielded, and that for the 
 same purposes, by the one set of beings as by the other. 
 Of those powers, and of the end to which the stories repre- 
 sent them as being turned, some mention will be made in 
 the next chapter. 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. 19. The rest of the story is that of { Der Gaudief un 
 sin Meester.' Grimm's KM. No. 68. (See also vol. iii. p. 118 of that work, 
 where a long list is given of similar stories in various languages.) 
 
230 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT. 
 
 MOST of the magical ' properties ' of the ' skazka-drama ' 
 closely resemble those which have already been rendered 
 familiar to us by well-known folk-tales. Of such as these 
 of ' caps of darkness,' of ' seven-leagued boots/ of ' magic 
 cudgels,' of ' Fortunatus's purses,' and the like 1 it is un- 
 necessary, for the present, to say more than that they are 
 of as common occurrence in Slavonic as in other stories. 
 But there are some among them which materially differ 
 from their counterparts in more western lands, and are there- 
 fore worthy of special notice. To the latter class belong the 
 Dolls of which mention has already been made, and the 
 Waters of Life and Death of which I am now about to 
 speak. 
 
 A Water of Life plays an important part in the folk- 
 tales of every land. 2 When the hero of a ' fairy story ' has 
 been done to death by evil hands, his resuscitation by 
 
 1 About which, see Professor Wilson's note on Somadeva's story of the 
 'Origin of Pataliputra,' 'Essays,' i. p. 168-9, with Dr. Rost's reference 
 to L. Deslongchamps, 'Essai sur les Fables Indiennes,' Paris, 1838, p. 3^, 
 and Grasse, 'Sagenkreise des Mittelalters,' Leipsig, 1842, p. 191. See 
 also the numerous references given by Grimm, KM. iii. pp. 168-9. 
 
 2 As well as in all the mythologies. For the magic draught of the fairy- 
 story appears to be closely connected with the Greek ambrosia, the Vedic soina 
 or anirita, the Zend haoma. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 231 
 
 means of a healing and vivifying lotion or ointment l 
 follows almost as a matter of course. And by common 
 consent the Raven (or some sort of crow) is supposed to 
 know where this invaluable specific is to be found, 2 a 
 knowledge which it shares with various supernatural beings, 
 as well as with some human adepts in magic, and some- 
 times with the Snake. In all these matters the Russian 
 and the Western tales agree, but the Skazka differs from 
 most stories of its kind in this respect, that it almost invari- 
 ably speaks of two kinds of magic waters as being employed 
 for the restoration of life. We have already seen, in the 
 story of ' Marya Morevna/ that one of these, sometimes 
 called the mertvaya voda the ' dead water,' or ' Water of 
 Death' when sprinkled over a mutilated corpse, heals all 
 its wounds ; while the other, which bears the name of the 
 zhivaya voda, the ' living water/ or * Water of Life ' 
 endows it once more with vitality. 
 
 [In a Norse tale in Asbjornsen's new series, No. 72, mention is made of a 
 Water of Death, as opposed to a Water of Life. The Death Water (Doasens 
 Vand] throws all whom it touches into a magic sleep, from which only Life 
 Water (Livsens Vand) can rouse them (p. 57). In the Ramayana, Hanuman 
 fetches four different kinds of herbs in order to resuscitate his dead monkeys : 
 ' the first restore the dead to life, the second drive away all pain, the third join 
 
 1 A water, 'Das Wasser des Lebens,' in two German stories (Grimm, 
 Nos. 92 and 97, and iii. p. 178), and in many Greek tales (Hahn, Nos. 32, 
 37, &c.). An oil or ointment in the Norse tale (Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 35, 
 Dasent, No. 3). A balsam in Gaelic tales, in which a ' Vessel of Balsam' often 
 occurs. According to Mr. Campbell ('West Highland Tales, 'i. p. 218), ' Ballan 
 locshlaint, teat, of ichor, of health, seems to be the meaning of the words. ' 
 The juice squeezed from the leaves of a tree in a modern Indian tale (' Old 
 Deccan Days,' p. 139). 
 
 " The mythical bird Garuda, the Indian original of the Roc of the Arabian 
 Nights, was similarly connected with the Amrita. See the story of Garuda 
 and the Nagas in Brockhaus's translation of the 'Kathasaritsagara,' ii. pp. 
 98-105. On the Vedic falcon which brings the Soma down to earth, see 
 Kuhn's ' Herabkunft des Feuers,' pp. 138-142. 
 
232 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 "broken parts, the fourth cure all wounds, &c.' Talboys Wheeler, ' History of 
 India,' ii. 368. In the Egyptian story already mentioned (at p. 113), Satou's 
 corpse quivers and opens its eyes when his heart has become saturated with a 
 healing liquid. But he does not actually come to life till the remainder of the 
 liquid has been poured down his throat. 
 
 In a Kirghiz story, quoted by Bronevsky, ' a golden-haired hero finds, after 
 long search, the maiden to whom he had in very early life been betrothed. 
 Her father has him murdered. She persuades the murderer to show her the 
 body of her dead love, and weeps over it bitterly. A spirit appears and tells 
 her to sprinkle it with water from a neighbouring well. The well is very deep, 
 but she induces the murderer to allow her to lower him into it by means of her 
 remarkably long hair. He descends and hands up to her a cup of water. 
 Having received it, she cuts off her hair, and lets the murderer drop and be 
 drowned. Then she sprinkles her lover's corpse with the. water, and he revives. 
 But he lives only three days. She refuses to survive him, and is buried by his 
 side. From the graves of the lovers spring two willows, which mingle their 
 boughs as if in an embrace. And the neighbours set up near the spot three 
 statues, his and hers and her nurse's. 
 
 Such is the story, says Bronevsky, which the Kirghiz tell with respect to some 
 statues of unknown origin which stand (or used to stand) near the Ayaguza, a 
 river falling into Lake Balkhash. A somewhat similar Armenian story is 
 quoted by Haxthausen in his Transcaucasia (p. 350 of the English translation). 
 
 In the Kalevala, when Lemmenkainen has been torn to pieces, his mother 
 collects his scattered remains, and by a dexterous synthetical operation restores 
 him to physical unity. But the silence of death still possesses him. Then she 
 entreats the Bee to bring vivifying honey. After two fruitless journeys, the 
 Bee succeeds in bring back honey 'from the cellar of the Creator.' When this 
 has been applied, the dead man returns to life, sits up, and says in the words 
 of the Russian heroes ' How long I have slept ! ' 2 
 
 Here is another instance of a life-giving operation of a double nature. 
 There is a well-known Indian story about four suitors for the hand of one girl. 
 She dies, but is restored to life by one of her lovers, who happens one day to 
 see a dead child resuscitated, and learns how to perform similar miracles. In 
 two Sanskrit versions of the ' Vetalapanchavinsati, ' 3 as well as in the Hindi 
 version, 4 the life-giving charm consists in a spell taken from a book of magic. 
 
 1 In the Russiarf periodical, ' Otechestvennuiya Zapiski,' vol. 43 (for 1830) 
 pp. 252-6. 
 
 2 Schiefners's translation, 1852, pp. ,80, 81. 
 
 8 In that attributed to Sivadasa, tale 2 (Lassen's ' Anthologia Sanscritica,' 
 pp. 16-19), an d in the * Kathasaritsagara, ' chap. Ixxvi. See Brockhaus's sum- 
 mary in the * Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der Kon. Sachs. Gesellschaft der 
 Wissenschaften,' December 3, 1853, pp. 194-5. 
 
 4 The * Baital-Pachisi,' translated by Ghulam Mohammad Munshi, Bombay, 
 1868, pp. 23-24. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 233 
 
 But in the Tamil version, the process is described as being of a different and 
 double nature. According to it, the mother of the murdered child ' by the 
 charm called sisupabam re-created the body, and, by the incantation called 
 sanjtvi, restored it to life.' The suitor, having learnt the charm and the 
 incantation, ' took the bones and the ashes (of the dead girl), and having 
 created out of them the body, by virtue ot the charm sisupabam, gave life to 
 that body by the sanjivi incantation.' According to Mr. Babington, ' Sanjivi 
 is denned by the Tamuls to be a medicine which restores to life by dissipating 
 a mortal swoon ... In the text the word is used for the art of using this 
 medicine.' J 
 
 As a general rule, the two waters of which mention is 
 made in the Skazkas possess the virtues, and are employed 
 in the manner, mentioned above ; but there are cases in 
 which their powers are of a different nature. Sometimes 
 we meet with two magic fluids, one of which heals all 
 wounds, and restores sight to the blind and vigour to 
 the cripple, while the other destroys all that it touches. 
 Sometimes, also, recourse is had to magic draughts of two 
 kinds, the one of which strengthens him who quaffs it, while 
 the other produces the opposite effect. Such liquors as 
 these are known as the ' Waters of Strength and Weakness,' 
 and are usually described as being stowed away in the cellar 
 of some many-headed Snake. For the Snake is often men- 
 tioned as the possessor, or at least the guardian, of magic 
 fluids. Thus one of the Skazkas 2 speaks of a wondrous 
 garden, in which are two springs of healing and vivifying 
 water, and around that garden is coiled like a ring a 
 mighty serpent. Another tells htfw a flying Snake brought 
 two heroes to a lake, into which they flung a green bough, 
 and immediately the bough broke into flame and was con- 
 
 1 B. G. Babington's translation of The Vedala Cadai,' p. 32, contained 
 in the ' Miscellaneous Translations ' of the Oriental Translation Fund, 1831, 
 vol. i. pt. iv. pp. 32 and 67. 
 
 2 Afanasief, P. V.S. ii. 551. 
 
234 RUSSIAN FOLK-TA'LES 
 
 sumed. Then it took them to another lake, into which 
 they cast a mouldy log. And the log straightway began 
 to put forth buds and blossoms. 1 
 
 In some cases the magic waters are the property, not of 
 a Snake, but of one of the mighty heroines who so often 
 occur in these stories, and who bear so great a resemblance 
 to Brynhildr, as well in other respects as in that of her 
 enchanted sleep. Thus in one of the Skazkas, 2 an aged 
 king dreams that ' beyond thrice nine lands, in the thirtieth 
 country, there is a fair maiden from whose hands and feet 
 water is flowing, of which water he who drinks will become 
 thirty years younger.' His sons go forth in search of this 
 youth-giving liquid, and, after many adventures, the 
 youngest is directed to the golden castle in which lives the 
 ' fair maiden,' whom his father has seen in his vision.' He 
 has been told that when she is awake her custom is to 
 divert herself in the green fields with her Amazon host 
 ' for nine days she rambles about, and then for nine days 
 she sleeps a heroic slumber.' The Prince hides himself 
 among the bushes near the castle, and sees a fair maiden 
 come out of it surrounded by an armed band, 'and all the 
 band consists of maidens, each one more beautiful than the 
 other. And the most beautiful, the most never-enough-to- 
 be-gazed-upon, is the Queen herself.' For nine days he 
 watches the fair band of Amazons as they ramble about. 
 On the tenth day all is still, and he enters the castle. In 
 the midst of her slumbering guards sleeps the Queen on a 
 couch of down, the healing water flowing from her hands 
 and feet. With it he fills two flasks, and then he retires. 
 When the Queen awakes, she becomes conscious of the theft 
 
 1 Afanasief, viii. p. 205. - Afanasief, vii. No. 5 b. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 235 
 
 and pursues the Prince. Coming up with him, she slays 
 him with a single blow, but then takes compassion on him, 
 and restores him to life. 
 
 In another version of the story, the precious fluid is con- 
 tained in a flask which is hidden under the pillow of the 
 slumbering ' Tsar Maiden.' The Prince steals it and flees, 
 but he bears on him the weight of sin, and so, when he 
 tries to clear the fence which girds the enchanted castle, 
 his horse strikes one of the cords attached to it, and the 
 spell is broken which maintains the magic sleep in which 
 the realm is locked. The Tsar Maiden pursues the thief, 
 but does not succeed in catching him. He is killed, how- 
 ever, by his elder brothers, who ' cut him into small pieces,' 
 and then take the flask of magic water to their father. The 
 mui;dered prince is resuscitated by the mythical bird known 
 by the name of the Zhar-Ptitsa, which collects his scattered 
 fragments, puts them together, and sprinkles them first 
 with ' dead water ' and then with ' live water,' conveyed 
 for that purpose in its beak after which the prince gets 
 up, thanks his reviver, and goes his way. 1 
 
 In one of the numerous variants of the story in which a 
 prince is exposed to various dangers by his sister who is 
 induced to plot against his life by her demon lover, the 
 Snake the hero is t sent in search of * a healing and a 
 vivifying water,' preserved between two lofty mountains 
 which cleave closely together, except during 'two or three 
 minutes ' of each day. He follows his instructions, rides 
 to a certain spot, and there awaits the hour at which 
 the mountains fly apart ' Suddenly a terrible hurricane 
 arose, a mighty thundei smote, and the two mountains 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No, 5 a. t For the Zhar-Ptitsa, see infra, p. 285. 
 
236 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 were torn asunder. Prince Ivan spurred his heroic steed, 
 flew like a dart between the mountains, dipped two flasks 
 in the waters, and instantly turned back.' He himself 
 escapes safe and sound, but the hind legs of his horse are 
 caught between the closing cliffs, and smashed to pieces. 
 The magic waters, of course, soon remedy this temporary 
 inconvenience. 1 
 
 In a Slovak version of this story, a murderous mother 
 sends her son to two mountains, each of which is cleft open 
 once- in every twenty-four hours the one opening at mid- 
 day and the other at midnight ; the former disclosing the 
 Water of Life, the latter the Water of Death. 2 In a similar 
 story from the Ukraine, mention is made of two springs of 
 healing and life-giving water, which are guarded by iron- 
 beaked ravens, and the way to which lies between grinding 
 hills. The Fox and the Hare are sent in quest of the 
 magic fluid. The Fox goes and returns in safety, but the 
 Hare, on her way back, is not in time quite to clear the 
 meeting cliffs, and her tail is jammed in between them. 
 Since that time, hares have had no tails. 3 
 
 1 Afanasief, vi. p. 249. For a number of interesting legends, collected 
 from the most distant parts of the world, about grinding mountains and crash- 
 ing cliffs, c., see Tylor's 'Primitive Culture,' pp. 313-16. After quoting 
 three mythic descriptions found among the Karens, the Algonquins, and the 
 Aztecs, Mr. Tylor remarks, ' On the suggestion of this group of solar concep- 
 tions and that of Maui's death, we may perhaps explain as derived from a broken- 
 down fancy of solar-myth, that famous episode of Greek legend, where the 
 good ship Argo passed between the Symplegades, those two huge cliffs that 
 opened and closed again with swift and violent collision.' 
 
 Several of the Modern Greek stories are very like the skazka mentioned above. 
 In one of these (Hahn, ii. p. 234), a Lamia guards the water of life (addva-ro 
 vepb] which flows within a rock ; in another (ii. p. 280) a mountain opens at 
 midday, and several springs are disclosed, each of which cries ' Draw from me! * 
 but the only one which is life-giving is that to which a bee flies. 
 
 2 Wenzig, p. 148. 
 
 8 Afanasief, P. V.S. ii. 353. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 237 
 
 On the Waters of Strength and Weakness much stress 
 is laid in many of the tales about the many-headed Snakes 
 which carry off men's wives and daughters to their metallic 
 castles. In one of these, for instance, the golden-haired 
 Queen Anastasia has been torn away by a whirlwind from 
 her husband ' Tsar Byel Byelyanin ' [the White King]. 
 As in the variant of the story already quoted, 1 her sons go 
 in search of her, and the youngest of them, after finding 
 three palaces the first of copper, the second of silver, the 
 third of gold, each containing a princess held captive* by 
 Vikhor, the Whirlwind comes to a fourth palace gleaming 
 with diamonds and other precious stones. In it he discovers 
 his- long-lost mother, who gladly greets him, and at once 
 takes him into Vikhor' s cellar. Here is the account of what 
 ensued. 
 
 Well, they entered the cellar ; there stood two tubs of water, 
 the one on the right hand, the other on the left. Says the 
 Queen 
 
 * Take a draught of the water that stands on the right hand.' . 
 Prince Ivan drank of it. 
 
 ' Now then, how strong do you feel ? ' said she. 
 
 * So strong that I could upset the whole palace with one hand,' 
 he replied. 
 
 i Come now, drink again.' 
 
 The Prince drank once more. 
 
 ' How strong do you feel now ? ' she asked. 
 
 1 Why now, if I wanted, I could give the whole world a jolt.' 
 
 * Oh that's plenty then ! Now make these tubs change places 
 that which stands on the right, set on the left ; and that which 
 is on the left, change to the right.' 
 
 1 See above, p. 226. 
 
238 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Prince Ivan took the tubs and made them change places. Says 
 the Queen 
 
 ' See now, my dear son ; in one of these tubs is the " Water of 
 Strength," in the other is the "Water of Weakness." 1 He who 
 drinks of the former becomes a mighty hero, but he who drinks of 
 the second loses all his vigour. Vikhor always quaffs the Strong 
 Water, and places it on the right-hand side ; therefore you 
 must deceive him, or you will never be able to hold out against 
 him.' 
 
 The Queen proceeds to tell her son that, when Vikhor 
 comes home, he must hide beneath her purple cloak, and 
 watch for an opportunity of seizing her gaoler's magic mace. 2 
 Vikhor will fly about till he is tired, and will then have 
 recourse to what he supposes is the ' Strong Water ' ; this 
 will render him so feeble that the Prince will be able to kill 
 him. Having received these instructions, and having been 
 w r arned not to strike Vikhor after he is dead, the Prince 
 conceals himself. Suddenly the day becomes darkened, 
 the palace quivers, and Vikhor arrives ; stamping on the 
 ground, he beoomes a noble gallant, who enters the palace, 
 * holding intfhis hands a battle-mace.' This Prince Ivan 
 seizes, and a long struggle takes place between him and 
 Vikhor, who flies away with him over seas and into the 
 clouds. At last, Vikhor becomes exhausted and seeks the 
 place where he expects to find the invigorating draught 
 on which he is accustomed to rely. The result is as 
 follows : 
 
 1 Silnaya voda or potent water, and bczsilnaya voda, or impotent water 
 (sila = strength). 
 
 a Palitsa = a cudgel, etc. ^T In the variant of the story quoted in the pre- 
 ceding section the$ prince seized Vikhor by the right little finger, mizinets. 
 Palets means a finger. The similarity of the two words may have led to a 
 confusion of ideas. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 239 
 
 Dropping right into his cellar, Vikhor ran to the tub which 
 stood on the right, and began drinking the Water of Weakness.. 
 But Prince Ivan rushed to the left, quaffed a deep draught of the 
 Water of Strength, and became the mightiest hero in the whole 
 world. Then, seeing that Vikhor was perfectly enfeebled, he 
 snatched from him his keen faulchion, and with a single blow 
 struck off his head. Behind him voices began to cry : 
 ' Strike again ! strike again ! or he will come to life ! ' 
 * No,' replied the Prince, ' a hero's hand does not strike twice,, 
 but finishes its work with a single blow.' And straightway he 
 lighted a fire, burnt the head and the trunk, and scattered the 
 ashes to the winds.' ! 
 
 The part played by the Water of Strength in this story 
 may be compared with ' the important share which the ex- 
 hilarating juice of the Soma-plant assumes in bracing 
 Indra for his conflict with the hostile powers in the atmo- 
 sphere,' and Vikhor's sudden debility with that of Indra 
 when the Asura Namuchi 'drank up Indra's strength 
 along with a draught of wine and soma.' 2 
 
 Sometimes, as has already been remarked, one of the two 
 magic waters is even more injurious than the Water of 
 Weakness. 3 The following may be taken as a specimen of 
 the stories in which there is introduced a true Water of 
 Death one of those deadly springs which bear the same re- 
 lation to the healing and vivifying founts that the enfeebling 
 bears to the strengthening water. The Baba Yaga who 
 figures in it is, as is so often the case, replaced by a Snake 
 in the variant to which allusion has already been made. 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. pp. 97-103. 
 
 * Muir's ' Sanskrit Texts,' v. p. 258 and p. 94. See, also Mannhardt's 
 * Germ. Mythen,' pp. 96-97. 
 
 3 Being as destructive as the poison which was created during the churning 
 of the Amrita. 
 
240. RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 THE BLIND MAN AND THE CRIPPLE. 1 
 
 IN a certain kingdom there lived a king and queen ; they had a 
 son, Prince Ivan, and to look after that son was appointed a 
 tutor named Katoma. 2 The king and queen lived to a great 
 age, but then they fell ill, and despaired of ever recovering. So 
 they sent for Prince Ivan and strictly enjoined him : 
 
 ' When we are dead, do you in everything respect and obey 
 Katoma. If you obey him, you will prosper ; but if you choose 
 to be disobedient, you will perish like a fly.' 
 
 The next day the king and queen died. Prince Ivan buried 
 his parents, and took to living according to their instructions. 
 Whatever he had to do, he always consulted his tutor about it. 
 
 Some time passed by. The Prince attained to man's estate, 
 and began to think about getting married. So djie day he went 
 to his tutor and said : 
 
 ' Katoma, I'm tired of living alone, I want to marry.' 
 
 1 Well, Prince ! what's to prevent you ? you're of an age at 
 which it's time to think about a bride. Go into the great hall. 
 There's a collection there of the portraits of all the princesses in 
 the world ; look at them and choose f6r yourself; whichever 
 pleases you, to her send a proposal of marriage.' 
 
 Prince Ivan went into the great hall, and began examining 
 the portraits. And the one that pleased him best was that of the 
 Princess Anna the Fair such a beauty ! the like of her wasn't to 
 be found in the whole world ! Underneath her portrait were 
 written these words : 
 
 ' If anyone asks her a riddle, and she does not guess it, him 
 shall she marry ; but he whose riddle she guesses shall have his 
 head chopped off.' 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 35. 
 
 2 In the original he is generally designated as Katoma dyad'ka, dubavaya 
 shapka, ' Katoma-governor, oaken-hat.' Not being able to preserve the 
 assonance, I have dropped the greater part of his title. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 241 
 
 Prince Ivan read this inscription, became greatly afflicted, and 
 went off to his tutor. 
 
 ' I've been in the great hall,' says he, { and I picked out for 
 my bride Anna the Fair ; only I don't know whether it's possible 
 to win her.' 
 
 * Yes, Prince ; she's hard to get. If you go alone, you won't 
 win her anyhow. But if you will take me with you, and if you 
 will do what I tell you, perhaps the affair can be managed.' 
 
 Prince Ivan begged Katoma to go with him, and gave his 
 word of honour to obey him whether in joy or grief. 
 
 Well, they got ready for the journey and set off to sue for the 
 hand of the Princess Anna the Fair. They travelled for one 
 year, two years, three years, and traversed many countries. Says 
 Prince Ivan 
 
 'We've been travelling all this time, uncle, and now we're 
 approaching the country of Princess Anna the Fair ; and yet we 
 don't know what riddle to propound.' 
 
 ' We shall manage to think of one in good time,' replied Ka- 
 toma. They went a little farther. Katoma was looking down on 
 the road, and on it lay a purse full of money. He lifted it 
 up directly, poured all the money out of it into his own purse, 
 and said 
 
 ' Here's a riddle for you, Prince Ivan ! When you come 
 into the presence of the Princess, propound a riddle to her in 
 these words : " As we were coming along, we saw Good lying on 
 the road, and we took up the Good with Good, and placed it in 
 our own Good ! " That riddle she won't guess in a lifetime ; 
 but any other one she would find out directly. She would only 
 have to look into her magic-book, and as soon as she had guessed 
 it, she'd order your head to be cut off.' 
 
 Well, at last Prince Ivan and his tutor arrived at the lofty 
 palace in which lived the fair Princess. At that moment she 
 happened to be out on the balcony, and when she saw the new- 
 comers, she sent out to know whence they came and what they 
 
 wanted. Prince Ivan replied 
 
 R 
 
242 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 1 have come from such-and-such a kingdom, and I wish to 
 sue for the hand of the Princess. Anna the Fair.' 
 
 When she was informed of this, the Princess gave orders that 
 the Prince should enter the palace, and there in the presence of 
 all the princes and boyars of her council should propound his 
 riddle. 
 
 1 I've made this compact,' she said. * Anyone whose riddle 
 I cannot guess, him I must marry. But anyone whose riddle I 
 can guess, him I may put to death/ 
 
 ' Listen to my riddle, fair Princess ! ' said Prince Ivan. ' As 
 we came along, we saw Good lying on the road, and we took up 
 the Good with Good, and placed it in our own Good.' 
 
 Princess Anna the Fair took her magic-book, and began 
 turning over it's leaves and examining the answers of riddles. 
 She went right through the book, but she didn't get at the mean- 
 ing she wanted. Thereupon the princes and boyars of her 
 council decided that the Princess must marry Prince Ivan. She 
 wasn't at all pleased, but there was no help for it, and so she 
 began to get ready for the wedding. Meanwhile she considered 
 within herself how she could spin out the time and do away with 
 the bridegroom, and she thought the best way would be to over- 
 whelm him with tremendous tasks. 
 
 So she called Prince Ivan and said to him 
 
 1 My dear Prince Ivan, my destined husband ! It is < meet that 
 we should prepare for the wedding; pray do me this small service. 
 On such and such a spot of my kingdom there stands a lofty 
 iron pillar. Carry it into the palace kitchen, and chop it into 
 small chunks by way of fuel for the cook.' 
 
 ' Excuse me, Princess,' replied the Prince. * Was it to chop 
 fuel that I came here ? Is that the proper sort of employment 
 for me ? I have a servant for that kind of thing, Katoma dyadka, 
 of the oaken s/iapka.' 
 
 The Prince straightway called for his tutor, and ordered him 
 to drag the iron pillar into the kitchen, and to chop it into small 
 chunks by way of fuel for the cook. Katoma went to the spot 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 243 
 
 indicated by the Princess, seized the pillar in his arms, brought it 
 into the palace kitchen, and broke it into little pieces ; but four 
 of the iron chips he put into his pocket, saying 
 
 ' They'll prove useful by-and-by ! ' 
 
 Next day the Princess says to Prince Ivan 
 
 ' My dear Prince, my destined husband ! to-morrow we have 
 to go to the wedding. I will drive in a carriage, but you should 
 ride on a heroic steed, and it is necessary that you should break 
 him in beforehand.' 
 
 ' I break a horse in myself! I keep a servant for that/ 
 
 Prince Ivan called Katoma, and said 
 
 ' Go into the stable and tell the grooms to bring forth the 
 heroic steed ; sit upon him and break him in ; to-morrow I've 
 got to ride him to the wedding.' 
 
 Katoma fathomed the subtle device of the Princess, but, with- 
 out stopping long to talk, he went into the stable and told the 
 grooms to bring forth the heroic steed. Twelve grooms were 
 mustered, they unlocked twelve locks, opened twelve doors, and 
 brought forth a magic horse bound in twelve chains of iron. 
 Katoma went up to him. No sooner had he managed to seat 
 himself than the magic horse leaped up from the ground and 
 soared higher than the forest higher than the standing forest, 
 lower than the flitting cloud. Firm sat Katoma, with one hand 
 grasping the mane ; with the other he took from his pocket an 
 iron chunk, and began taming the horse with it between the ears. 
 When he had used up one chunk, he betook himself to another ; 
 when two were used up, he took to a third ; when three were 
 used up, the fourth came into play. And so grievously did he 
 punish the heroic steed that it could not hold out any longer, but 
 cried aloud with a human voice 
 
 ' Batyushka Katoma ! don't utterly deprive me of life in the 
 white world ! Whatever you wish, that do you order : all shall 
 be done according to your will ! ' 
 
 ' listen, O meat for dogs ! ' answered Katoma ; t to-morrow 
 Prince Ivan will ride you to the wedding. Now mind ! when the 
 
244 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 grooms bring you out into the wide courtyard, and the Prince 
 goes up to you and lays his hand on you, do you stand quietly, 
 not moving so much as an ear. And when he is seated on your 
 back, do you sink into the earth right up to your fetlocks, and 
 then move under him with a heavy step, just as if an immeasurable 
 weight had been laid upon your back.' 
 
 The heroic steed listened to the order and sank to earth 
 scarcely alive. Katoma seized him by the tail, and flung him 
 close to the stable, crying 
 
 ' Ho there ! coachmen and grooms ; carry off this dog's meat 
 to its stall ! ' 
 
 The next day arrived ; the time drew near for going to the 
 wedding. The carriage was brought round for the Princess, and 
 the heroic steed for Prince Ivan. The people were gathered 
 together from all sides a countless number. The bride and 
 bridegroom came out from the white stone halls. The Princess 
 got into the carriage and waited to see what would become of 
 Prince Ivan ; whether the magic horse would fling his curls to the 
 wind, and scatter his bones across the open plain. Prince Ivan 
 approached the horse, laid his hand upon its back, placed his foot 
 in the stirrup the horse stood just as if petrified, didn't so much 
 as wag an ear ! The Prince got on its back, the magic horse 
 sank into the earth up to its fetlocks. The twelve chains were 
 taken off the horse, it began to move with an even heavy pace, 
 while the sweat poured off it just like hail. 
 
 4 What a hero ! What immeasurable strength ! ' cried the 
 people as they gazed on the Prince. 
 
 So the bride and bridegroom were married, and then they 
 began to move out of the church, holding each other by the hand. 
 The Princess took it into her head to make one more trial of 
 Prince Ivan, so she squeezed his hand so hard that he could not 
 bear the pain. His face became suffused with blood, his eyes 
 disappeared beneath his brows. 
 
 J A fine sort of hero you are ! ' thought the Princess. ' Your 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 245 
 
 tutor has tricked me splendidly; but you shan't get off for 
 nothing ! ' 
 
 Princess Anna the Fair lived for some time with Prince Ivan as 
 a wife ought to live with a god-given l husband, flattered him in 
 every way in words, but in reality never thought of anything 
 except by what means she might get rid of Katoma. With the 
 Prince, without the tutor, there'd be no difficulty in settling 
 matters ! she said to herself. But whatever slanders she might 
 invent, Prince Ivan never would allow himself to be influenced by 
 what she said, but always felt sorry for his tutor. At the end of a 
 year he said to his wife one day 
 
 ' Beauteous Princess, my beloved spouse ! I should like to 
 go with you to my own kingdom,' 
 
 4 By all means,' replied she, ' let us go. I myself have long 
 been wishing to see your kingdom.' 
 
 Well they got ready and went off; Katoma was allotted the 
 post of coachman. They drove and drove, and as they drove 
 along Prince Ivan went to sleep. Suddenly the Princess Anna 
 the Fair awoke him, uttering loud complaints 
 
 ' Listen, Prince, you're always sleeping, you hear nothing ! 
 But your tutor doesn't obey me a bit, drives the horses en purpose 
 over hill and dale, just as if he wanted to put an end to us both. 
 I tried speaking him fair, but he jeered at me. I won't go on 
 living any longer if you don't punish him ! ' 
 
 Prince Ivan, 'twixt sleeping and waking, waxed very wroth 
 with his tutor, and handed him over entirely to the Princess, 
 saying 
 
 ' Deal with him as you please ! ' 
 
 The Princess ordered his feet to be cut off. Katoma sub- 
 mitted patiently to the outrage. 
 
 1 Bogodanny (bog = God; dat\ davci? = to give). One of the Russian 
 equivalents for our hideous 'father-in-law' is 'god -given father' (bogodanny 
 otets), and for 'mother-in-law,' bogodannaya mat'' or 'God-given mother.' 
 (Dahl.) 
 
246 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Very good/ he thinks ; ' I shall suffer, it's true ; but the 
 Prince also will know what to lead a wretched life is like ! ' 
 
 When both of Katoma's feet had been cut off, the Princess 
 glanced around, and saw that a tall tree-stump stood on one side ; 
 so she called her servants and ordered them to set him on that 
 stump. But as for Prince Ivan, she tied him to the carriage by a 
 cord, turned the horses round, and drove back to her own king- 
 dom. Katoma was left sitting on the stump, weeping bitter 
 tears. 
 
 ' Farewell, Prince Ivan ! ' he cries ; * you won't forget me ! ' 
 
 Meanwhile Prince Ivan was running and bounding behind 
 the carriage. He knew well enough by this time what a blunder 
 he had made, but there was no turning back for him. When the 
 Princess Anna the Fair arrived in her kingdom, she set Prince 
 Ivan to take care of the cows. Every day he went afield with the 
 herd at early morn, and in the evening he drove them back to the 
 royal yard. At that hour the Princess was always sitting on the 
 balcony, and looking out to see that the number of the cows was 
 all right. 1 
 
 Katoma remained sitting on the stump one day, two days, 
 three days, without anything to eat or drink.* To get down was 
 utterly impossible, it seemed as if he must die of starvation. But 
 not far away from that place there was a dense forest. In that 
 forest was living a mighty hero who was quite blind. The only 
 way by which he could get himself food was this : whenever he 
 perceived by the sense of smell that any animal was running past 
 him, whether a hare, or a fox, or a bear, he immediately started 
 in chase of it, caught it and dinner was ready for him. The hero 
 was exceedingly swift-footed, and there was not a single wild 
 beast which could run away from him. Well, one day it fell out 
 thus. A fox slunk past; the hero heard it, and was after it 
 
 1 Four lines are omitted here. See A. de Gubernatis, ' Zool. Mythology,' 
 i. 181, where a solar explanation of the whole story will be found. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 247 
 
 directly. It ran up to the tall stump, and turned sharp off on one 
 side ; but the blind hero hurried on, took a spring, and thumped 
 his forehead against the stump so hard that he knocked the 
 stump out by the roots. Katoma fell to the ground, and asked : 
 
 ' Who are you ? ' 
 
 ' I'm a blind hero. I've been living in the forest for thirty 
 years. The only way I can get my food is this : to catch some 
 game or other, and cook it at a wood fire. If it had not been for 
 that, I should have been starved to death long ago ! ' 
 
 ' You haven't been blind all your life ? ' 
 
 ' No, not all my life ; but Princess Anna the Fair put my eyes 
 out ! ' 
 
 ' There now, brother ! ' says Katoma ; * and it's thanks to her, 
 too, that I'm left here without any feet. She cut them both off, 
 the accursed one ! ' 
 
 The two heroes had a talk, and agreed to live together, and 
 join in getting their food. The blind man says to the lame : 
 
 ' Sit on my back and show me the way ; I will serve you with 
 my feet, and you me with your eyes/ 
 
 So he took the cripple and carried him home, and Katoma 
 sat on his back, kept a look out all round, and cried out from 
 time to time : ' Right ! Left ! Straight on ! ' and so forth. 
 
 Well, they lived some time in the forest in that way, and 
 caught hares, foxes, and bears for their dinner. One day the 
 cripple says 
 
 1 Surely we can never go on living all our lives without a soul 
 [to speak to]. I have heard that in such and such a town lives a 
 rich merchant who has a daughter ; and that merchant's daughter 
 is exceedingly kind to the poor and crippled. She gives alms to 
 everyone. Suppose we carry her off, brother, and let her live 
 here and keep house for us.' 
 
 The blind man took a cart, seated the cripple in it, and 
 rattled it into the town, straight into the rich merchant's court- 
 yard. The merchant's daughter saw them out of window, and 
 
248 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 immediately ran out, and came to give them alms. Approaching 
 the cripple, she said : 
 
 ' Take this, in Christ's name, poor fellow ! ' 
 
 He [seemed to be going] to take the gift, but he seized her by 
 the hand, pulled her into the cart, and called to the blind man, 
 who ran off with it at such a pace that no one could catch him, 
 even on horseback. The merchant sent people in pursuit but 
 no, they could not come up with him. 
 
 The heroes brought the merchant's daughter into their forest 
 hut, and said to her : 
 
 ' Be in the place of a sister to us, live here and keep house for 
 us ; otherwise we poor sufferers will have no one to cook our 
 meals or wash our shirts. God won't desert you if you do that ! ' 
 
 The merchant's daughter remained with them. The heroes 
 respected her, loved her, acknowledged her as a sister. They 
 used to be out hunting all day, but their adopted sister was 
 always at home. She looked after all the housekeeping, prepared 
 the meals, washed the linen. 
 
 But after a time a Baba Yaga took to haunting their hut and 
 sucking the breasts of the merchant's daughter. No sooner have 
 the heroes gone off to the chase, than the Baba Yaga is there in a 
 moment. Before long the fair maiden's face began to fall away, 
 and she grew weak and thin. The blind man could see nothing, 
 but Katoma remarked that things weren't going well. He spoke 
 about it to the blind man, and they went together to their 
 adopted sister, and began questioning her. But the Baba Yaga 
 had strictly forbidden her to tell the truth. For a long time she 
 was afraid to acquaint them with her trouble, for a long time she 
 held out, but at last her brothers talked her over, and she told 
 them everything without reserve. 
 
 * Every time you go away to the chase/ says she, ' there imme- 
 diately appears in the cottage a very old woman with a most evil 
 face, and long grey hair. And she sets me to dress her head, 
 and meanwhile she sucks my breasts.' 
 
 * Ah ! ' says the blind man, ' that's a Baba Yaga. Wait a bit ; 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 249 
 
 we must treat her after her own fashion. To-morrow we won't 
 go to the chase, but we'll try to entice her and lay hands upon 
 her!' 
 
 So next morning the heroes didn't go out hunting. 
 
 ' Now then, Uncle Footless ! ' says the blind man, ' you get 
 under the bench, and lie there ever so still, and I'll go into the 
 yard and stand under the window. And as for you, sister, when 
 the Baba Yaga comes, sit down just here, close by the window ; 
 and as you dress her hair, quietly separate the locks, and throw 
 them outside through the window. Just let me lay hold of her 
 by those grey hairs of hers ! ' 
 
 What was said was done. The blind man laid hold of the 
 Baba Yaga by her grey hair, and cried 
 
 ' Ho there, Uncle Katoma ! Come out from under the 
 bench, and lay hold of this viper of a woman, while I go into the 
 hut ! ' 
 
 The Baba Yaga hears the bad news and tries to jump up to 
 get her head free. Where are you off to ? That's no go, sure- 
 enough / l ) -She tugs and tugs, but cannot do herself any good ! 
 
 Just then from under the bench crawled Uncle Katoma, fell 
 upon her like a mountain of stone, took to strangling her until 
 the heaven seemed to her to disappear. 2 Then into the cottage 
 bounded the blind man, crying to the cripple 
 
 ' Now we must heap up a great pile of wood, and consume 
 this accursed one with fire, and fling her ashes to the wind ! ' 
 
 The Baba Yaga began imploring them : 
 
 ' My fathers ! my darlings ! forgive me. I will do all that is 
 right.' 
 
 ' Very good, old witch ! Then show us the fountain of healing 
 and life-giving water ! ' said the heroes. 
 
 ' Only don't kill me, and I'll show it you directly ! ' 
 
 Well, Katoma sat on the blind man's back. The blind man 
 
 1 These ejaculations belong to the story-teller. 
 
 2 Literally, ' Seemed to her as small as a lamb.' 
 
2o RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 took the Baba Yaga by her back hair, and she led them into the 
 depths of the forest, brought them to a well, 1 and said 
 
 1 That is the water that cures and gives life.' 
 
 * Look out, Uncle Katoma ! ' cried the blind man ; ' don't 
 make a blunder. If she tricks us now we shan't get right all our 
 lives ! ' 
 
 Katoma cut a green branch off a tree, and flung it into the 
 well. The bough hadn't so much as reached the water before it 
 all burst into a flame ! 
 
 ' Ha ! so you're still up to your tricks,' said the heroes, and 
 began to strangle the Baba Yaga, with the intention of flinging 
 her, the accursed one, into the fiery fount. More than ever did 
 the Baba Yaga implore for mercy, swearing a great oath that she 
 would not deceive them this time. 
 
 ' On my troth I will bring you to good water,' says she. 
 
 The heroes consented to give her one more trial, and she took 
 them to another fount. 
 
 Uncle Katoma cut a dry spray from a tree, and flung it into 
 the fount. The spray had not yet reached the water when it 
 already turned green, budded, and put forth blossoms. 
 
 4 Come now, that's good water ! ' said Katoma. 
 
 The blind man wetted his eyes with it, and saw directly. He 
 lowered the cripple into the water, and the lame man's feet grew 
 again. Then they both rejoiced greatly, and said to one another, 
 * Now the time has come for us to get all right ! We'll get 
 everything back again we used to have ! Only first we must 
 make an end of the Baba Yaga. If we were to pardon her now, 
 we should always be unlucky ; she'd be scheming mischief all her 
 life.' 
 
 Accordingly they went back to the fiery fount, and flung the 
 Baba Yaga into it ; didn't it soon make an end of her ! 
 
 After this Katoma married the merchant's daughter, and the 
 three companions went to the kingdom of Anna the Fair in order 
 
 : Kolbdez, a word connected with kolbda, a log, trough, &c. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT , 251 
 
 to rescue Prince Ivan. When they drew near to the capital, 
 what should they see but Prince Ivan driving a herd of cows ! 
 
 ' Stop, herdsman ! ' says Katorna ; l where are you driving 
 these cows ? ' 
 
 ' I'm driving them to the Princess's courtyard,' replied the 
 Prince. ' The Princess always sees for herself whether all the 
 cows are there.' 
 
 1 Here, herdsman take my clothes and put them on, and I 
 will put on yours and drive the cows.' 
 
 1 No, brother ! that cannot be done. If the Princess found it 
 out, I should suffer harm ! ' 
 
 ' Never fear, nothing will happen ! Katoma will guarantee 
 you that.' 
 
 Prince Ivan sighed, and said 
 
 * Ah, good man ! If Katoma had been alive, T should not 
 have been feeding these cows afield ! ' 
 
 Then Katoma disclosed to him who he was. Prince Ivan 
 warmly embraced him and burst into tears. 
 
 * I never hoped even to see you again,' said he. 
 
 So they exchanged clothes. The tutor drove the cows to the 
 Princess's courtyard. Anna the Fair went into the balcony, 
 looked to see if all the cows were there, and ordered them to be 
 driven into the sheds. All the cows went into the sheds except 
 the last one, which remained at the gate. Katoma sprang at it, 
 exclaiming 
 
 ' What are you waiting for, dog's-meat ? ' 
 
 Then he seized it by the tail, and pulled it so hard that he 
 pulled the cow's hide right off ! The Princess saw this, and cried 
 with a loud voice : 
 
 * What is that brute of a cowherd doing ? Seize him and 
 bring him to me ! ' 
 
 Then the servants seized Katoma and dragged him to the 
 palace. He went with them, making no excuses, relying on him- 
 self. They brought him to the Princess. She looked at him and 
 asked 
 
252 . RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Who are you ? Where do you come from ? ' 
 
 ' I am he whose feet you cut off and whom you set on a stump. 
 My name is Katoma dyadka, oaken shapka? 
 
 1 Well/ thinks the Princess, ' now that he's got his feet back 
 again, I must act straight-forward ly with him for the future.' 
 
 And she began to beseech him and the Prince to pardon her. 
 She confessed all her sins, and swore an oath always to love 
 Prince Ivan, and to obey him in all things. Prince Ivan forgave 
 her, and began to live with her in peace and concord. The hero 
 who had been blind remained with them, but Katoma and his 
 wife went to the house of [her father] the rich merchant, and took 
 up their abode under his roof. 
 
 [There is a story in the ' Panchatantra ' (v. 12) which, in default of other 
 parallels, may be worth comparing with that part of this Skazka which refers 
 to the blind mn and the cripple in the forest. Here is an outline of it : 
 
 To a certain king a daughter is born who has three breasts. Deeming her 
 presence unfortunate, he offers a hundred thousand purses of gold to anyone 
 who will many her and take her away. For a long time no man takes 
 advantage of the offer, but at last a blind man, who goes about led by a hunch- 
 back named Mantharaka or Cripple, marries her, receives the gold, and is sent 
 far away with his wife and his friend. All three live together in the same 
 house. After a time the wife falls in love with the hunchback and conspires 
 with him to kill her husband. For this purpose she boils a snake, intending 
 to poison her husband with it. But he stirs the snake -broth as it is cooking, 
 and the steam which rises from it cures his blindness. Seeing the snake in the 
 pot, he guesses what has occurred, so he pretends to be still blind, and watches 
 his wife and his friend. They, not knowing he can see, embrace in his presence, 
 whereupon he catches up the ' cripple ' by the legs, and dashes him against 
 his wife. So violent is the blow that her third breast is driven out of sight and 
 the hunchback is beaten straight. Benfey (whose version of the story differs 
 at the end from that given by Wilson, ' Essays,' ii. 74) in his remarks on this 
 story (i. p. 510-15), which he connects with Buddhist legends, observes that it 
 occurs also in the 'Tuti-Nameh' (Rosen, ii. 228), but there the hunchback is 
 replaced by a comely youth, and the similarity with the Russian story disappears. 
 For a solar explanation of the Indian story see A. de Gubernatis, ' Zool. My- 
 thology,' i. 85.] 
 
 Of this story there are many variants. In one of them ] a 
 king promises to reward with vast wealth anyone who will 
 
 1 Afanasief, viii. No. 23 a. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 253 
 
 find him 'a bride fairer than the sun, brighter than the moon, 
 and whiter than snow.' A certain moujik, named Nikita 
 Koltoma, offers to show him where a princess lives who 
 answers to this description, and goes forth with him in 
 search of her. On the way, Nikita enters several forges, 
 desiring to have a war mace cast for him, and in one of 
 them he finds fifty smiths tormenting an old man. Ten of 
 them are holding him by the beard with pincers, the others 
 are thundering away at his ribs with their hammers. Find- 
 ing that the cause of this punishment is an unpaid debt of 
 fifty roubles, Nikita ransoms the greybeard, who straight- 
 way disappears. Nikita obtains the mace he wants, which 
 weighs fifty poods, or nearly a ton, and leaves the forge. 
 Presently the old man whom he has ransomed comes 
 running up to him, thanks him for having rescued him from 
 a punishment which had already lasted thirty years, and be- 
 stows on him, as a token of gratitude, a Cap of Invisibility. 
 
 Soon after this Nikita, attended by the king and his 
 followers, reaches the palace of the royal heroine, Helena 
 the Fair. She at first sends her warriors to capture or slay 
 the unwelcome visitors, but Nikita attacks them with his 
 mace, and leaves scarce one alive. Then she invites the 
 king and his suite to the palace, having prepared in the 
 meantime a gigantic bow fitted with a fiery arrow, where- 
 with to annihilate her guests. Guessing this, Nikita puts 
 on his Cap of Invisibility, bends the bow, and shoots the 
 arrow into the queen's terema [the women's chambers], and 
 in a moment the whole upper story is in a blaze. After 
 that the queen submits, and is married to the king. 
 
 But Nikita warns him that for three nights running his 
 bride will make trial of his strength by laying her hand on 
 his breast and pressing it hard so hard that he will not be 
 
254 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 able to bear the pressure. When that happens, he must 
 slip out of the room, and let Nikita take his place. All 
 this comes to pass ; the bride lays her hand on the bride- 
 groom's breast, and says 
 
 ' Is my hand heavy ? ' 
 
 ' As a feather on water ! ' replies the king, who can 
 scarcely draw his breath beneath the crushing weight of 
 the hand he has won. Then he leaves the room, under the 
 pretext of giving an order, and Nikita takes his place. The 
 queen renews the experiment, presses with one hand, 
 presses with both, and with all her might. Nikita catches 
 her up, and then flings her down on the floor. The room 
 shakes beneath the blow, the bride ' arises, lies down 
 quietly, and goes to sleep,' and Nikita is replaced by the 
 king. By the end of the third night the queen gives up all 
 hope of squeezing her husband to death, and makes up her 
 mind to conjugal submission. 1 
 
 But before long, she, like Brynhild, finds out that she 
 has been tricked, and resolves on revenge. Throwing 
 Nikita into a slumber which lasts for tWenty-four hours, she 
 has his feet cut off, and sets him adrift in a boat ; then she 
 degrades her husband, turning him into a swineherd, and 
 she puts out the eyes of Nikita's brother Timofei. In the 
 course of time the brothers obtain from a Baba Yaga the 
 healing and vivifying waters, and so recover the eyes and 
 
 1 To this episode a striking parallel is offered by that of Gunther's wedding 
 night in the 'Nibelungenlied,' in which Brynhild flings her husband Gunther 
 across the room, kneels on his chest, and finally binds him hand and foot, and 
 suspends him from a nail till daybreak. The next night Siegfried takes his 
 place, and wrestles with the mighty maiden. After a long struggle he flings 
 her on the floor and forces her to submit. Then he leaves the room and 
 Gunther returns. A summary of the story will be found in the ' Tales of the 
 Teutonic Lands,' by G. \V. Cox and E. H. Jones, pp. 94-5. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 255 
 
 feet they had lost. The Witch-Queen is put to death, and 1 
 Nikita lives happily as the King's Prime Minister. The- 
 specific actions of the two waters are described with great: 
 precision in this story. When the lame man sprinkles his- 
 legs with the Healing Water, they become whole at once ;. 
 'his legs are quite sound, only they don't move.' Then he 
 applies the Vivifying Water, and the use of his legs returns 
 to him. Similarly when the blind man applies the Healing 
 Water to his empty orbits, he obtains new eyes ' perfectly 
 faultless eyes, only he cannot see with them ; ' he applies 
 the Vivifying Water, ' and begins to see even better than 
 before.' 
 
 In a Ryazan variant of the story, 1 Ivan Dearly-Bought,, 
 after his legs have been cut off at the knees, and he has* 
 been left in a forest, is found by a giant who has no arms,, 
 but who is so fleet that ' no post could catch him up.' The 
 two maimed heroes form an alliance. After a time, they 
 carry off a princess who is suffering from some mysterious 
 disease, and take her to their forest home. She tells- 
 them that her illness is due to a Snake, which comes to 
 her every night, entering by the chimney, and sucks away 
 her strength. The heroes seize the Snake, which takes them 
 to the healing lake, and they are cured. Then they restore 
 the princess, also cured, to her father. Ivan returns to the 
 palace of the Enchantress Queen who had maimed him, 
 and beats her with red-hot iron bars until he has driven 
 out of her all her magic strength, l leaving her only one 
 woman's strength, and that a very poor one.' 
 
 In a Tula variant 2 the wicked wife, who has set her 
 * 
 
 1 Khudyakof, i. No. 19, pp. 73-7. 
 
 2 Erlenvein, No. 19, pp. 95-7. For a Little- Russian version see 
 Kulish, ii. pp. 59-82. 
 
256 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 confiding husband to tend her pigs, is killed by the hero. 
 She had put out his eyes, and had cut off the feet of another 
 companion of her husband ; in this variant also the Healing 
 Waters are found by the aid of a snake. 
 
 The supernatural steed which Katoma tamed belongs 
 to an equine race which often figures in the Skazkas. A 
 good account of one of these horses is given in the follow- 
 ing story of 
 
 PRINCESS HELENA THE FAIR. 1 
 
 We say that we are wise folks ; but our old people dispute the fact, 
 saying : ' No, no, we were wiser than you are' But skazkas tell 
 that, before our grandfathers had learnt anything, before their grand- 
 fathers* were born 3 
 
 THERE lived in a certain land an old man of this kind, who in- 
 structed his three sons in reading and writing 4 and all book learn- 
 ing. Then said he to them : 
 
 ' Now, my children ! When I die, mind you come and read 
 prayers over my grave.' 
 
 ; Very good, father, very good,' they replied. 
 
 The two elder brothers were such fine strapping fellows ! so 
 tall and stout ! But as for the youngest one, Ivan, he was like a 
 half-grown lad or a half-fledged duckling, terribly inferior to the 
 others. Well, their old father died. At that very time there came 
 tidings from the King, that his daughter, the Princess Helena the 
 Fair, had ordered a shrine to be built for her with twelve columns, 
 with twelve rows of beams. In that shrine she was sitting upon a 
 high throne, and awaiting her bridegroom, the bold youth who, with 
 
 1 Afanasief, vi. No. 26. From the Kursk Government. 
 
 - Prashchurui. 
 
 3 The sentence in italics is a good specimen of the priskazka, or preface. 
 
 4 Gramota = ypdfj.ij.aTa, whence comes gramotny, able to read and write = 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 257 
 
 a single bound of his swift steed, should reach high enough to kiss 
 her on the lips. A stir ran through the whole youth of the nation. 
 They took to licking their lips, and scratching their heads, and 
 wondering to whose share so great an honour would fall. 
 
 ' Brothers ! ' said Vanyusha, 1 ' our father is dead ; which of us is 
 to read prayers over his grave ? * 
 
 1 Whoever feels inclined, let him go.! ' answered the brothers. 
 
 So Vanya went. But as for his elder brothers they did nothing 
 but exercise their horses, and curl their hair, and dye their mous- 
 taches. 
 
 The second night came. 
 
 ' Brothers ! ' said Vanya, ' I've done my share of reading. It's 
 your turn now : which of you will go ? ' 
 
 ' Whoever likes can go and read. We've business to look after ; 
 don't you meddle.' 
 
 And they cocked their caps, and shouted, and whooped, and 
 flew this way, and shot that way, and roved about the open 
 country. 
 
 So Vanyusha read prayers this time also and on the third 
 night too. 
 
 Well, his brothers got ready their horses, combed out their 
 moustaches, and prepared to go next morning to test their mettle 
 before the eyes of Helena the Fair. 
 
 4 Shall we take the youngster ? ' they thought. ( No, no. What 
 would be the good of him ? He'd make folks laugh and put us to 
 confusion ; let's go by ourselves.' 
 
 So away they went. But Vanyusha wanted very much to have 
 a look at the Princess Helena the Fair. He cried, cried bitterly ; 
 and went out to his father's grave. And his father heard him in 
 his coffin, and came out to him, shook the damp earth off his body, 
 and said : 
 
 ' Don't grieve, Vanya. I'll help you in your trouble.' 
 
 1 Vanya and Vanyusha are diminutives of Ivan (John), answering to our 
 Johnny ; Vanka is another, more like our Jack. 
 
 S 
 
258 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 And immediately the old man drew himself up and straightened 
 himself, and called aloud and whistled with a ringing voice, with a 
 shrill 1 whistle. 
 
 From goodness knows whence appeared a horse, the earth 
 quaking beneath it, a flame rushing from its ears and nostrils. 
 To and fro it flew, and then stood still before the old man, as if 
 rooted in the ground, and cried, 
 
 1 What are thy commands ? ' 
 
 Vanya crept into one of the horse's ears and out of the other, 
 and turned into such a hero as no skazka can tell of, no pen de- 
 scribe ! He mounted the horse, set his arms a-kimbo, and flew, 
 just like a falcon, straight to the home of the Princess Helena. 
 With a wave of his hand, with a bound aloft, he only failed by the 
 breadth of two rows of beams. Back again he turned, galloped 
 up, leapt aloft, and got within one beam-row's breadth. Once 
 more he turned, once more he wheeled, then shot past the eye like 
 a streak of fire, took an accurate aim, and kissed 2 the fair Helena 
 right on the lips ! 
 
 ' Who is he? Who is he ? Stop him ! Stop him ! ' was the 
 cry. Not a trace of him was to be found ! 
 
 Away he galloped to his father's grave, let the horse go free, 
 prostrated himself on the earth, and besought his father's counsel. 
 And the old man held counsel with him. 
 
 When he got home he behaved as if he hadn't been anywhere. 
 His brothers talked away, describing where they had been, what 
 they had seen, and he listened to them as of old. 
 
 The next day there was a gathering again. In the princely 
 halls there were more boyars and nobles than a single glance could 
 take in. The elder brothers rode there. Their younger brother 
 went there too, but on foot, meekly and modestly, just as if 
 he hadn't kissed the Princess, and seated himself in a distant 
 
 1 Literally 'with a Solovei-like whistle.' The word solovei generally means 
 a nightingale, but it was also the name of a mythical hero, a robber whose 
 voice or whistle had the power of killing those who heard it. 
 
 2 Chmokmtl, smacked. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 259 
 
 corner. The Princess Helena asked for her bridegroom, wanted 
 to show him to the world at large, wanted to give him half her 
 kingdom ; but the bridegroom did not put in an appearance ! 
 Search was made for him among the boyars, among the generals ; 
 everyone was examined in his turn but with no result ! Mean- 
 while, Vanya looked on, smiling and chuckling, and waiting till the 
 bride should come to him herself. 
 
 ' I pleased her then/ says he, ' when I appeared as a gay 
 gallant ; now let her fall in love with me in my plain caftan.' 
 
 Then up she rose, looked around with bright eyes that shed a 
 radiance on all who stood there, and saw and knew her bride- 
 groom, and made him take his seat by her side, and speedily was 
 wedded to him. And he good heavens ! how clever he turned 
 out, and how brave, and what a handsome fellow ! Only see him 
 mount his flying steed, give his cap a cock, and stick his elbows 
 akimbo ! why, you'd say he was a king, a born king ! you'd never 
 suspect he once was only Vanyusha. 
 
 The incident of the midnight watch by a father's grave, 
 kept by a son to whom the dead man appears and gives a 
 magic horse, often occurs in the Skazkas. It is thoroughly 
 in accordance with Slavonic ideas about the residence cf 
 the dead in their tombs, and their ability to assist their 
 descendants in time of trouble. Appeals for aid to a dead 
 parent are of frequent occurrence in the songs still sung by 
 the Russian peasantry at funerals or over graves ; especially 
 in those in which orphans express their grief, calling upon 
 the grave to open, and the dead to appear and listen and 
 help. 1 So in the Indian story of Punchkin, the seven hungrh 
 stepmother-persecuted princesses go out every day and 
 sit by their dead mother's torrib, and cry, and say, ' Oy, 
 
 1 See Barsof's rich collection of North-Russian funeral poetry, entitled 
 ' Prichitaniya Syevernago Kraya,' Moscow, 1872. Also the ' Songs of the 
 Russian People,' pp. 334-345. 
 
 s 2 
 
2 6o RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 mother, mother, cannot you see your poor children, how 
 unhappy we are,' etc., until a tree grows up out of the 
 grave laden with fruits for their relief. 1 So in the 
 German tale, 2 Cinderella is aided by the white bird, 
 which dwells in the hazel tree growing out of her 
 mother's grave. 
 
 In one of the Skazkas 3 a stepdaughter is assisted by 
 her cow. The girl, following its instructions, gets in at one 
 ear and out of the other, and finds all her tasks performed, 
 all her difficulties removed. When it is killed, there 
 springs from its bones a tree which befriends the girl, and 
 gains her a lordly husband. In a Servian variant of the 
 story, it is distinctly stated that the protecting cow had been 
 the girl's mother manifestly in a previous state of exist- 
 ence, a purely Buddhistic idea. 4 
 
 In several of the Skazkas we find an account of a 
 princess who is won in a similar manner to that described 
 in the story of Helena the Fair. In one case, 5 a king 
 promises to give his daughter to anyone ' who can pluck 
 her portrait from the house, from the other side of ever so 
 many beams.' The youngest brother, Ivan the Simpleton, 
 carries away the portrait and its cover at the third trial. In 
 another, a king offers his daughter and half his kingdom to 
 him ' who can kiss the princess through twelve sheets of 
 glass.' 6 The usual youngest brother is carried towards her 
 
 1 Miss Frere's ' Old Deccan Days,' pp. 3-4. 
 
 2 Grimm, KM. No. 21. 
 
 3 Afanasief, vi. No. 54. 
 
 4 Ona krava shto yoy ye bila mafi, Vuk Karajich, p. 158. In the 
 German translation (p. 188) Wie dies nun die Kuh sa/i, die einst seine Mutter 
 gtnvesen war. 
 
 5 Afanasief, ii. p. 254. 
 
 6 Cherez dvyenadtsaf stekol, Stcklo means a glass, or a pane of glass. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 261 
 
 so forcibly by his magic steed that, at the first trial, he 
 breaks through six of the sheets of glass ; at the second, says 
 the story, ' he smashed all twelve of the sheets of glass, and 
 he kissed the Princess Priceless-Beauty, and she immedi- 
 ately stamped a mark upon his forehead.' By this mark, 
 after he has disappeared for some time, he is eventually 
 recognised, and the princess is obliged to marry him. 1 In a 
 third story, 2 the conditions of winning the princely bride 
 are easier, for ' he who takes a leap on horseback, and kisses 
 the king's daughter on the balcony, to him will they give 
 her to wife/ In a fourth, the princess is to marry the man 
 ' who, on horseback, bounds up to her on tlie third floor.' 
 At the first trial, the Diirak, or Fool, reaches the first floor, 
 at the next, the second ; and the third time, ' he bounds 
 right up to the princess, and carries off from her a ring.' 3 
 
 In the Norse story of ' Dapplegrim,' 4 a younger brother 
 saves a princess who had been stolen by a Troll, and hidden 
 in a cave above a steep wall of rock as smooth as glass. 
 Twice his magic horse tries in vain to surmount it, but the 
 third time it succeeds, and the youth carries off the princess, 
 who ultimately becomes his wife. Another Norse story 
 still more closely resembles the Russian tales. In 'The 
 Princess on the Glass Hill' 5 the hero gains a Princess as 
 his wife by riding up a hill of glass, on the top of which 
 she sits, with three golden apples in her lap, and by carrying 
 off these precious fruits. He is enabled to perform this feat 
 by a magic horse, which he obtains by watching his father's 
 crops on three successive St. John's Nights. 
 
 1 Afanasief, ii. p. 269. 2 Khudyakof, No. 50. 
 
 3 Afanasief, iii. p. 25. 
 
 4 Dasent's ' Norse Tales,' No. 40. Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 37. 
 'Grimsborken.' 
 
 5 Dasent, No. 13. Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 51. ' Jomfruen paa Glas- 
 berget. ' 
 
262 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 In a Celtic story, 1 a king promises his daughter, and 
 two-thirds of his kingdom, to anyone who can get her out 
 of a turret which ' was aloft, on the top of four carraghan 
 towers.' The hero Conall kicks ' one of the posts that was 
 keeping the turret aloft/ the post breaks, and the turret 
 falls, but Conall catches .it in his hands before it reaches 
 the ground, a door opens, and out comes the Princess 
 Sunbeam, and throws her arms about Conall's neck. 
 
 In most of these stories the wife-gaining leap is so 
 vaguely described that it is allowable to suppose that the 
 original idea has been greatly obscured in the course of 
 travel. In some Eastern stories it is set in a much plainer 
 light ; in one modern collection for instance, * it occurs four 
 times. A princess is so fond of her marble bath, which is 
 ' like a little sea/ with high spiked walls all round it, that 
 she vows she will marry no one who cannot jump across it 
 on horseback. Another princess determines to marry 
 him only who can leap into the glass palace in which she 
 dwells, surrounded by a wide river; and many kings and 
 princes perish miserably in attempting to perform the 
 feat. A third king's daughter lives in a garden ' hedged 
 round with seven hedges made of bayonets/ by which her 
 suitors are generally transfixed. A fourth 'has vowed to 
 marry no man who cannot jump on foot over the seven 
 hedges made of spears, and across the seven great ditches 
 that surround her house ; ' and ' hundreds of thousands of 
 Rajahs have tried to do it, and died in the attempt.' 
 
 The secluded princess of these stories may have been 
 primarily akin to the heroine of the ' Sleeping Beauty ' 
 
 1 Campbell's ' West- Highland Tales,' iii. pp. 265, 266. 
 
 2 Miss Frere's 'Old Deccan Days,' pp. 31, 73, 95, 135. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 263 
 
 tales, but no special significance appears now to be at- 
 tributable to her isolation. The original idea seems to have 
 been best preserved in the two legends of the wooing of 
 Brynhild by Sigurd, in the first of which he awakens her 
 from her magic sleep, while in the second he gains her 
 hand (for Gunnar) by a daring and difficult ride for * him 
 only would she have who should ride through the flaming 
 fire that was drawn about her hall.' Gunnar fails to do so, 
 but Sigurd succeeds ; his horse leaps into the fire, * and a 
 mighty roar arose as the fire burned ever madder, and the 
 earth trembled, and the flames went up even unto the 
 heavens, nor had any dared to ride as he rode, even as it 
 were through the deep mirk.' l 
 
 We will take next a story which is a great favourite in, 
 Russia, and which will serve as another illustration of the 
 use made of magical ' properties ' in the Skazkas. 
 
 EMILIAN THE FooL. 2 
 
 THERE were once three brothers, of whom two were sharp-witted, 
 but the third was a fool. The elder brothers set off to sell their 
 goods in the towns down the river, 3 and said to the fool : 
 
 ' Now mind, fool ! obey our wives, and pay them respect as if 
 they were your own mothers. We'll buy you red boots, and a red 
 caftan, and a red shirt.' 
 
 The fool said to them : 
 
 * Very good ; I will pay them respect.' 
 
 They gave the fool their orders and went away to the down- 
 
 1 ' Volsunga Saga,' translated by E. Magnusson and W. Moms, pp. 95-6. 
 
 2 Afanasief, vi. No. 32. From the Novgorod Government. A * chap- 
 book' version of this story will be found in Dietrich's collection (pp. 152-68 
 of the English translation) ; also in Keightley's ' Tales and Popular Fictions. ' 
 
 3 Nijnie, lower. Thus Nijny Novgorod is the lower (down the Volga) 
 Novgorod. (Dahl.) 
 
264 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 stream towns ; but the fool stretched himself on top of the stove 
 and remained lying there. His brothers' wives say to him 
 
 1 What are you about, fool ! your brothers ordered you to pay 
 us respect, and in return for that each of them was going to bring 
 you a present, but there you lie on the stove and don't do a bit of 
 work. Go and fetch some water, at all events.' 
 
 The fool took a couple of pails and went to fetch the water. 
 As he scooped it up, a pike happened to get into his pail. Says 
 the fool : 
 
 ' Glory to God ! now I will cook this pike, and will eat it all 
 myself; I won't give a bit of it to my sisters-in-law. I'm savage 
 with them ! ' 
 
 The pike says to him with a human voice : 
 
 ' Don't eat me, fool ! if you'll put me back again into the water 
 you shall have good luck ! ' 
 
 Says the fool, * What sort of good luck shall I get from you ?' 
 
 ' Why, this sort of good luck : whatever you say, that shall be 
 done. Say, for instance, " By the Pike's command, at my request, 
 go home, ye pails, and be set in your places." ' 
 
 As soon as the fool had said this, the pails immediately went 
 home of their own accord and became set in their places. The 
 sisters-in-law looked and wondered : 
 
 ' What sort of a fool is this ! ' they say. * Why, he's so knowing, 
 you see, that his pails have come home and gone to their places of 
 their own accord ! ' 
 
 The fool came back and lay down on the stove. Again did his 
 brothers' wives begin saying to him 
 
 ' What are you lying on the stove for, fool ? there's no wood for 
 the fire ; go and fetch some.' 
 
 The fool took two axes and got into a sledge, but without har- 
 nessing a horse to it. 
 
 * By the Pike's command,' he says, ' at my request, drive into 
 the forest, O sledge ! ' 
 
 Away went the sledge at a rattling pace, as if urged on by 
 some one. The fool had to pass by a town, and the people he met 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 265 
 
 were jammed into corners by his horseless sledge in a way that 
 was perfectly awful. They all began crying out : 
 
 ' Stop him ! Catch him ! ' 
 
 But they couldn't lay hands on him. The fool drove into the 
 forest, got out of the sledge, sat down on a log, and said 
 
 ' One of you axes fell the trees, while the other cuts them up 
 into billets ! ' 
 
 Well, the firewood was cut up and piled on the sledge. Then 
 says the fool : 
 
 ' Now then, one of you axes ! go and cut me a cudgel, 1 as heavy 
 a one as I can lift.' 
 
 The axe went and cut him a cudgel, and the cudgel came and 
 lay on top of the load. 
 
 The fool took his seat and drove off. He drove by the town, 
 but the townspeople had met together and had been looking out 
 for him for ever so long. So they stopped the fool, laid hands 
 upon him, and began pulling him about. Says the fool 
 
 * By the Pike's command, at my request, go, O cudgel, and 
 bestir thyself.' 
 
 Out jumped the cudgel, and took to thumping and smashing, 
 and knocked over ever such a lot of people. There they lay on 
 the ground, strewed about like so many sheaves of corn. The fool 
 got clear of them and drove home, heaped up the wood, and then 
 lay down on the stove. 
 
 Meanwhile, the townspeople got up a petition against him, and 
 denounced him to the King, saying : 
 
 ' Folks say there's no getting hold of him the way we tried f 
 we must entice him by cunning, and the best way of all will be to 
 promise him a red shirt, and a red caftan, and red boots.' 
 
 So the King's runners came for the fool. 
 
 ' Go to the King,' they say, ' he will give you red boots, a red 
 caftan, and a red shirt.' 
 
 1 Kukcrua, _a stick or cudgel, one end of which is bent and rounded like a 
 ball. 
 
 - Tak dc ego ne vzaf . 
 
266 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Well, the fool said : 
 
 f By the Pike's command, at my request, do thoti, O stove, go 
 to the King ! ' 
 
 ' He was seated on the stove at the time. The stove went ; 
 the fool arrived at the King's. 
 
 The King was going to put him to death, but he had a daugh- 
 ter, and she took a tremendous liking to the fool. So she began 
 begging her father to give her in marriage to the fool. Her father 
 flew into a passion. He had them married, and then ordered 
 them both to be placed in a tub, and the tub to be tarred over and 
 thrown into the water; all which was done. 
 
 Long did the tub float about on the sea. His wife began to 
 beseech the fool : 
 
 ' Do something to get us cast on shore ! ' 
 
 1 By the Pike's command, at my request,' said the fool, ' cast 
 this tub ashore and tear it open ! ' 
 
 He and his wife stepped out of the tub. Then she again 
 began imploring him to build some sort of a house. The fool 
 said : 
 
 ' By the Pike's command, at my request, let a marble palace be 
 built, and let it starid immediately opposite the King's palace ! ' 
 
 This was all done in an instant. In the morning the King 
 saw the new palace, and sent to enquire who it was that lived in 
 it. As soon as he learnt that his daughter lived there, that very 
 minute he summoned her and her husband. They came. The 
 King pardoned them, and they all began living together and 
 flourishing. 1 
 
 1 There are numerous variants of this story among the Skazkas. In one of 
 these (Afanasief, vii. No. 31) the man on whom the pike has bestowed super- 
 natural power uses it to turn a Maiden princess into a mother. This renders 
 .the story wholly in accordance with (i) the Modern Greek tale of 'The Half 
 Man,' (Hahn, No. 8) in which the magic formula runs, ' According to the 
 first word of God and the second of the fish, shall such and such a thing be 
 clone !' (2) The Neapolitan story of 'Pervonto' (Basile's * Pentamerone, ' No. 
 3) who obtains his magic power from three youths whom he screens from the 
 sun as they lie asleep one hot clay, and who turn out to be sons of a fairy. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 267 
 
 'The Pike,' observes Afanasief, Ms a fish of great 
 repute in northern mythology. One of the old Russian 
 songs still sung at Christmas, tells how a Pike comes from 
 Novgorod, its scales of silver and gold, its back woven with 
 pearls, a costly diamond gleaming in its head instead of 
 eyes. And this song is one which promises wealth, a 
 fact connecting the Russian fish with that Scandinavian 
 pike which was a shape assumed by Andvari the dwarf- 
 guardian of the famous treasure, from which sprang the 
 woes recounted in the Volsnnga Saga and the Nibelungen- 
 lied. According to a Lithuanian tradition, 1 there is a certain 
 lake which is ruled by the monstrous pike Strukis. It sleeps 
 only once a year, and then only for a single hour. It used 
 always to sleep on St. John's Night, but a fisherman once 
 took advantage of its slumber to catch a quantity of its 
 scaly subjects. Strukis awoke in time to upset the fisher- 
 man's boat ; but fearing a repetition of the attempt, it now 
 changes each year the hour of its annual sleep. A gigantic 
 pike figures also in the Kalevala. 
 
 It \vould be easy to fill with similar stories, not only a 
 section of a chapter, but a whole volume ; but instead of 
 quoting any more of them, I will take a few specimens from 
 a different, though a somewhat kindred group of tales 
 those which relate to the magic powers supposed to be 
 wielded in modern times by dealers in the Black Art. Such 
 
 Afanasief compares the story also with the German tale of ' The Little Grey 
 Mannikin,' in the 'Zeitschrift fur deutsche Mythologie,' &c. i. pp. 38-40. 
 The incident of wishes being fulfilled by a fish occurs in many stories, as in that 
 of ' The Fisherman,' in the ' Arabian Nights,' The Fisherman and his Wife,' 
 in Grimm (KM., No. 19). . A number of stories about the Pike are referred 
 to by A. de Gubematis (' Zoolog. Mythology,' ii. 337-9). 
 
 1 Quoted by Afanasief from Siemienski's 'Podania' Posen, 1845, P- 4 2 - 
 
268 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 narratives as these are to be found in every land, but Russia 
 is specially rich in them, the faith of the peasantry in the 
 existence of Wizards, and Witches, Turnskins and Vampires, 
 not having been as yet seriously shaken. Some of the 
 stories relating to the supernatural Witch, who evidently 
 belongs to the demon wo/ld, have already been given. In 
 those which I am about to quote, the wizard or witch who 
 is mentioned is a human being, but one who has made a 
 compact with evil spirits, and has thereby become endowed 
 with strange powers. Such monsters as these are, through- 
 out their lives, a terror to the district they inhabit ; nor 
 does their evil influence die with them, for after they 
 have been laid in the earth, they assume their direst 
 aspect, and as Vampires bent on blood, night after night, 
 they go forth from their graves to destroy. As I have 
 elsewhere given some account of Slavonic beliefs in witch- 
 craft, 1 I will do little more at present than allow the stories 
 to speak for themselves. They will be recognised as being 
 akin to the tales about sorcery current farther west, but 
 they are of a more savage nature. THe rustic warlocks and 
 witches of whom we are accustomed to hear have little, if 
 any, of that thirst for blood which so unfavourably charac- 
 terises their Slavonic counterparts. Here is a story, by 
 way of example, of a most gloomy nature. 
 
 THE WITCH GiRL. 2 
 
 LATE one evening, a Cossack rode into a village, pulled up at its 
 last cottage, and cried 
 
 ' Heigh, master ! will you let me spend. the night here ?' 
 
 ' Come in, if you don't fear death ! ' 
 
 1 'Songs of the Russian People,' pp. 387-427. 
 
 2 Afanasief, vii. No. 36 a. This story has no special title in the original. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 269 
 
 1 What sort of a reply is that ? ' thought the Cossack, as he 
 put his horse up in the stable. After he had given it its food, he 
 went into the cottage. There he saw its inmates, men and 
 women and little children, all sobbing and crying and praying to 
 God ; and when they had done praying, they began putting on 
 clean shirts. 
 
 ' What are you crying about ? ' asked the Cossack. 
 
 ' Why you see,' replied the master of the house, ' in our 
 village Death goes about at night. Into whatsoever cottage she 
 looks, there, next morning, one has to put all the people who 
 lived in it into coffins, and carry them off to the graveyard. To- 
 night it's our turn.' 
 
 * Never fear, master ! " Without God's will, no pig gets its 
 fill ! " ' 
 
 The people of the house lay down to sleep j but the Cossack 
 was on the look-out and never closed an eye. Exactly at mid- 
 night the window opened. At the window appeared a witch all 
 in white. She took a sprinkler, passed her arm into the cottage, 
 and was just on the point of sprinkling when the Cossack 
 suddenly gave his sabre a sweep, and cut her arm off close to the 
 shoulder. The witch howled, squealed, yelped like a dog, and 
 fled away. But the Cossack picked up the severed arm, hid it 
 under his cloak, washed away the stains of blood, and lay down 
 to sleep. 
 
 Next morning the master and mistress awoke, and saw that 
 everyone, without a single exception, was alive and well, and 
 they were delighted beyond expression. 
 
 ' If you like,' says the Cossack, ' I'll show you Death ! Call 
 together all the Sotniks and Desyatniks l as quickly as possible, 
 and let's go through the village and look for her.' 
 
 Straightway all the Sotniks and Desyatniks came together, and 
 went from house to house. In this one there's nothing, in that 
 
 1 The rural police. Sotnik = centurion, from sto = 100. Dcsyatnik is a 
 word of the same kind from desyat = 10. 
 
270 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 one there's nothing, until at last they come to the Ponomar's 1 
 cottage. 
 
 1 Is all your family present? ' asks the Cossack. 
 
 ' No, my own ! one of my daughters is ill. She's lying on the 
 stove there.' 
 
 The Cossack looked towards the stove one of the girl's arms 
 had evidently been cut off. Thereupon he told the whole story 
 of what had taken place, and he brought out and showed the arm 
 which had been cut off. The commune rewarded the Cossack 
 with a sum of money, and ordered that witch to be drowned. 
 
 Stories of this kind are common in all lands, but the 
 witches about whom they are told generally assume the 
 forms of beasts of prey, especially of wolves, or of cats. 
 A long string of similar tales will be found in Dr. Wil- 
 helm Hertz's excellent and exhaustive monograph on wer- 
 wolves. 2 Very important also is the Polish story told by 
 Wojcicki 3 of the village which is attacked by the Plague, 
 embodied in the form of a woman, who roams from 
 house to house in search of victims. One night, as she 
 goes her rounds, all doors and windows have been barred 
 against her except one casement. This has been left 
 open by a nobleman who is ready to sacrifice himself 
 for the sake of others. The Pest Maiden arrives, and 
 thrusts her arm in at his window. The nobleman cuts 
 it off, and so rids the village of its fatal visitor. In an 
 Indian story, 4 a hero undertakes to watch beside the couch 
 of a haunted princess. When all is still a Rakshasa ap- 
 pears on the threshold, opens the door, and thrusts into 
 
 1 A Ponomar is a kind of sacristan. 
 
 2 ' Der Werwolf, Beitrag zur Sagengeschichte,' Stuttgart, 1862. For 
 Russian ideas on the subject see ' Songs of the Russian People,' pp. 403-9. 
 
 3 Polnische Volkssagen ' (translated by Lewestam), p. 61. 
 
 4 Brockhaus's ' Marchensammlung des Somadeva Bhatta,' ii. p. 24. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 271 
 
 the room an arm which the hero cuts off. The fiend 
 disappears howling, and leaves his arm behind. 
 
 The horror of the next story is somewhat mitigated by a 
 slight infusion of the grotesque but this may arise from 
 a mere accident, and be due to the exceptional cheerful- 
 ness of some link in the chain of its narrators. 
 
 THE HEADLESS PRINCESS.* 
 
 IN a certain country there lived a King ; and this King had a 
 daughter who was an enchantress. Near the royal palace there 
 dwelt a priest, and the priest had a boy of ten years old, who 
 went every day to an old woman to learn reading and writing. 
 Now it happened one day that he came away from his lessons 
 late in the evening, and as he passed by the palace he looked in 
 at one of the windows. At that window the Princess happened to 
 be sitting and dressing herself. She took off her head, lathered it 
 with soap, washed it with clean water, combed its hair, plaited its 
 long back braid, and then put it back again in its proper place. 
 The boy was lost in wonder. 
 
 ' What a clever creature ! ' thinks he. ' A downright witch ! ' 
 
 And when he got home he began telling every one how he 
 had seen the Princess without her head. 
 
 All of a sudden the King's daughter fell grievously ill. and she 
 sent for her father, and strictly enjoined him, saying 
 
 ' If I die, make the priest's son read the psalter over me three 
 nights running.' 
 
 The Princess died ; they placed her in a coffin, and carried it 
 to church. Then the king summoned the priest, and said 
 
 ' Have you got a son ? ' 
 
 ' I have, your majesty.' 
 
 ' Well then,' said the King, f let him read the psalter over my 
 daughter three nights running.' 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 36 b. This story, also, is without special title. 
 
272 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 The priest returned home, and told his son to get ready. In 
 the morning the priest's son went to his lessons, and sat over his 
 book looking ever so gloomy. 
 
 1 What are you unhappy about ? ' asked the old woman. 
 
 1 How can I help being unhappy, when I'm utterly done for ? ' 
 
 6 Why what's the matter ? Speak out plainly.' 
 
 * Well then, granny, I've got to read psalms over the princess, 
 and, do you know, she's a witch ! ' 
 
 6 1 knew that before you. did ! But don't be frightened, 
 there's a knife for you. When you go into the church, trace a 
 circle round you ; then read away from your psalter and don't look 
 behind you. Whatever happens there, whatever horrors may 
 appear, mind your own business and go on reading, reading. 
 But if you look behind you, it will be all over with you ! ' 
 
 In the evening the boy went to the church, traced a circle 
 round him with the knife, and betook himself to the psalter. 
 Twelve o'clock struck. The lid of the coffin flew up ; the 
 Princess arose, leapt out, and cried 
 
 ' Now I'll teach you to go peeping through my windows, and 
 telling people what you saw 1 ' 
 
 She began rushing at the priest's son, but she couldn't anyhow 
 break into the circle. Then she began to conjure up all sorts of 
 horrors. But in spite of all that she did, he went on reading and 
 reading, and never gave a look round. And at daybreak the 
 Princess rushed at her coffin, and tumbled into it at full length, 
 all of a heap. 
 
 The next night everything went on just the same. The 
 priest's son wasn't a bit afraid, went on reading without a stop 
 right up to daybreak, and in the morning went to the old woman. 
 She asked him 
 
 ' Well ! have you seen horrors ? ' 
 
 ' Yes, granny ! ' 
 
 'It will be still more horrible this time. Here's a hammer 
 for you and four nails. Knock them into the four corners of the 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 
 
 273 
 
 coffin, and when you begin reading the psalter, stick up the 
 hammer in front of you.' 
 
 In the evening the priest's son went to the church, and did 
 everything just as the old woman had told him. Twelve o'clock 
 struck, the coffin lid fell to the ground, the Princess jumped up 
 and began tearing from side to side, and threatening the youth. 
 Then she conjured up horrors, this time worse than before. It 
 seemed to him as if a fire had broken out in the church ; all 
 the walls were just wrapped in flames ! But he held his ground 
 and went on reading, never once looking behind him. Just 
 before daybreak the Princess rushed to her coffin then the fire 
 seemed to go out immediately, and all the devilry vanished ! 
 
 In the morning the King came to the church, and saw that the 
 coffin was open, and in the coffin lay the princess, face down- 
 wards. 
 
 ' What's the meaning of all this ? ' says he. 
 
 The lad told him everything that had taken place. Then the 
 king gave orders that an aspen stake should be driven into his 
 daughter's breast, and that her body should be thrust into a hole 
 in the ground. But he rewarded the priest's son with a heap of 
 money and various lands. 
 
 Perhaps the most remarkable among the stories of this 
 class is the following, which comes from Little Russia. 
 Those readers who are acquainted with the works of Gogol, 
 the great Russian novelist, who was a native of that part 
 of the country, will observe how closely he has kept to 
 popular traditions in his thrilling story of the Vy, which 
 has been translated into English, from the French, under 
 the title of ' The King of the Gnomes.' 1 
 
 1 In Mr. Hain FriswelFs collection of ' Ghost Stories,' 1858. 
 
274 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 THE SOLDIER'S MIDNIGHT WATCH. 1 
 
 ONCE upon a time there was a Soldier who served God and the 
 great Gosudar for fifteen years, without ever setting eyes on his 
 parents. At the end of that time there came an order from the 
 Tsar to grant leave to the soldiers to twenty-five of each 
 company at a time to go and see their families. Together with 
 the rest our Soldier, too, got leave to go, and set off to pay a 
 visit to his home in the government of Kief. After a time he 
 reached Kief, visited the Lavra, prayed to God, bowed down 
 before the holy relics, and then started again for his birthplace, a 
 provincial town not far off. Well, he walked and walked. 
 Suddenly there happens to meet him a fair maiden who was the 
 daughter of a merchant in that same town ; a most remarkable 
 beauty. Now everyone knows that if a soldier catches sight of a 
 pretty girl, nothing will make him pass her by quietly, but he 
 hooks on to her somehow or other. And so this Soldier gets 
 alongside of the merchant's daughter, and says to her jokingly 
 
 ' How now, fair damsel ! not broken in to harness yet ? ' 
 
 ' God knows, soldier, who breaks in whom/ replies the girl. 
 ' I may do it to you, or you to me.' * 
 
 So saying she laughed and went her way. Well, the Soldier 
 arrived at home, greeted his family, and rejoiced greatly at find- 
 ing they were all in good health. 
 
 Now he had an old grandfather, as white as a fan, who had 
 lived a hundred years and a bit. The Soldier was gossiping with 
 mm, and said : 
 
 * As I was coming home, grandfather, I happened to meet an 
 uncommonly fine girl, and, sinner that I am, I chaffed her, and 
 she said to me : 
 
 ' " God knows, soldier, whether you'll break me in to harness, 
 or I'll break you." ' 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 36 c. Also without special title. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 275 
 
 ' Eh, sirs ! whatever have you done ? Why that's the daughter 
 of our merchant here, an awful witch ! She's sent more than one 
 fine young fellow out of the white world.' 
 
 ' Well, well ! I'm not one of the timid ones, either ! You 
 won't frighten me in a hurry. We'll wait and see what God will 
 send.' 
 
 4 No, no, grandson ! ' says the grandfather. ' If you don't 
 listen to me, you won't be alive to-morrow ! ' 
 
 ' Here's a nice fix ! ' says the Soldier. 
 
 ' Yes, such a fix that you've never known anything half so 
 awful, even when soldiering.' 
 
 1 What must I do then, grandfather ? ' 
 
 ' Why this. Provide yourself with a bridle, and take a thick 
 aspen cudgel, and sit quietly in the izba don't stir a step any- 
 where. During the night she will come running in, and' if she 
 manages to say before you can " Stand still, my steed ! " you 
 will straightway turn into a horse. Then she will jump upon 
 your back, and will make you gallop about until she has ridden 
 you to death. But if you manage to say before she speaks, 
 " Tprru ! stand still, jade ! " she will be turned into a mare. 
 Then you must bridle her and jump on her back. She will run 
 away with you over hill and dale, but do you hold your own ; hit 
 her over the head with the aspen cudgel, and go on hitting her 
 until you beat her to death.' 
 
 The Soldier hadn't expected such a job as this, but there was 
 no help for it. So he followed his grandfather's advice, provided 
 himself with a bridle and an aspen cudgel, took his seat in a 
 corner, and waited to see what would happen. At the midnight 
 hour the passage door creaked and the sound of steps was heard : 
 the witch was coming ! The moment the door of the room 
 opened, the Soldier immediately cried out- 
 
 1 Tprrn ! stand still, jade ! ' 
 
 The witch turned into a mare, and he bridled her, led her into 
 the yard, and jumped on her back. The mare carried him off 
 over hills and dales and ravines, and did all she could to try and 
 
 T 2 
 
276 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 throw her rider. But no ! the Soldier stuck on tight, and thumped 
 her over the head like anything with the aspen cudgel, and went 
 on treating her with a taste of the cudgel until he knocked her off 
 her feet, and then pitched into her as she lay on the ground, gave 
 her another half-dozen blows or so, and at last beat her to death. 
 
 By daybreak he got home. 
 
 ' Well, my friend ! how have you got on ? ' asks his grand- 
 iather. 
 
 ' Glory be to God, grandfather ! I've beaten her to death.' 
 
 1 All right ! now lie down and go to sleep.' 
 
 The Soldier lay down and fell into a deep slumber. Towards 
 evening the old man awoke him 
 : ' Get up, grandson.' 
 
 He got up. 
 
 1 What's to be done now? As the merchant's daughter is 
 dead, you see, her father will come after you, and will bid you to 
 his house to read psalms over the dead body.' 
 
 1 Well, grandfather, am I to go, or not ? ' 
 
 ' If you go, there'll be an end of you ; and if you don't go, 
 there'll be an end of you ! Still, it's best to go.' 
 
 1 But if anything happens, how shall I get out of it ? ; 
 
 ' Listen, grandson ! When you go to the merchant's he will 
 offer you brandy ; don't you drink much drink only a moderate 
 allowance. Afterwards the merchant will take you into the room 
 in which his daughter is lying in her coffin, and will lock you in 
 there. You will read out from the psalter all the evening, and up 
 to midnight. Exactly at midnight a strong wind will suddenly 
 begin to blow, the coffin will begin to shake, its lid will fall off. 
 Well, as soon as these horrors begin, jump on to the stove as 
 quick as you can, squeeze yourself into a corner, and silently offer 
 up prayers. She won't find you there.' 
 
 Half an hour later came the merchant, and besought the 
 Soldier, crying : 
 
 ' Ah, Soldier ! there's a daughter of mine dead ; come and 
 read the psalter over her.' 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 277 
 
 The Soldier took a psalter and went off to the merchant's 
 house. The merchant was greatly pleased, seated him at his 
 table, and began offering him brandy to drink. The Soldier 
 drank, but only moderately, and declined to drink any more. 
 The merchant took him by the hand and led him to the room in 
 which the corpse lay. 
 
 ' Now then,' he says, ' read away at your psalter.' 
 Then he went out and locked the door. There was no help 
 for it, so the Soldier took to his psalter and read and read. 
 Exactly at midnight there was a great blast of wind, the coffin 
 began to rock, its lid flew off. The Soldier jumped quickly on to 
 the stove, hid himself in a corner, guarded himself by a sign of 
 the cross, and began whispering prayers. Meanwhile the witch 
 had leapt out of the coffin, and was rushing about from side to 
 side now here, now there. Then there came running up to her 
 countless swarms of evil spirits ; the room was full of them ! 
 
 * What are you looking for ? ' say they. 
 
 * A soldier. He was reading here a moment ago, and now 
 he's vanished ! ' 
 
 The devils eagerly set to work to hunt him up. They 
 searched and searched, they rummaged in all the corners. At last 
 they cast their eyes on the stove j at that moment, luckily for the 
 Soldier, the cocks began to crow. In the twinkling of an eye all 
 the devils had vanished, and the witch lay all of a heap on the 
 floor. The Soldier got down from the stove, laid her body in the 
 coffin, covered it up all right with the lid, and betook himself 
 again to his psalter. At daybreak came the master of the house, 
 opened the door, and said 
 
 ' Hail, Soldier ! ' 
 
 * I wish you good health, master merchant.' 
 1 Have you spent the night comfortably ? ' 
 
 ' Glory be to God ! yes.' 
 
 * There are fifty roubles for you, but come again, friend, and 
 read another night.' 
 
 ' Very good, I'll come.' 
 
278 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 The Soldier returned home, lay down on the bench, and slept 
 till evening. Then he awoke and said 
 
 ' Grandfather, the merchant bid me go and read the psalter 
 another night. Should I go or not ? ' 
 
 ' If you go, you won't remain alive, and if you don't go, just 
 the same ! But you'd better go. Don't drink much brandy, 
 drink, just what is right ; and when the wind blows, and the coffin 
 begins to rock, slip straight into the stove. There no one will 
 find you.' 
 
 The Soldier got ready and went to the merchant's, who seated 
 him at table, and began plying him with brandy. Afterwards he 
 took him to where the corpse was, and locked him into the room. 
 
 The Soldier went on reading, reading. Midnight came, the 
 wind blew, the coffin began to rock, the coffin lid fell afar off on 
 the ground. He was into the stove in a moment. Out jumped 
 the witch and began rushing about ; round her swarmed devils, 
 the room was full of them ! 
 
 * What are you looking for ? ' they cry. 
 
 'Why, there he was reading a moment ago, and now he's 
 vanished out of sight. I can't find him.' 
 
 The devils flung themselves on the stove. 
 
 ' Here's the place,' they cried, ' where he was last night ! 
 
 There was the place, but he wasn't there ! This way and that 
 they rushed. Suddenly the cocks began to crow, the devils 
 vanished, the witch lay stretched on the floor. 
 
 The Soldier stayed awhile to recover his breath, crept out 
 of the stove, put the merchant's daughter back in her coffin, and 
 took to reading the psalter again. Presently he looks round, the 
 day has already dawned. His host arrives : 
 
 'Hail, Soldier!' says he. 
 
 ' I wish you good health, master merchant.' 
 
 ' Has the night passed comfortably ? ' 
 
 ' Glory be to God ! yes.' 
 
 ' Come along here, then.' 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 279 
 
 The merchant led him out of the room, gave him a hundred 
 roubles, and said 
 
 ' Come, please, and read here a third night ; I shan't treat 
 you badly.' 
 
 'Good, I'll come.' 
 
 The Soldier returned home. 
 
 ' Well, grandson, what has God sent you?' says his grandfather. 
 
 ' Nothing much, grandfather ! The merchant told me to 
 come again. Should I go or not ? ' 
 
 ' If you go, you won't remain alive, and if you don't go, you 
 won't remain alive ! But you'd better go.' 
 
 ' But if anything happens where must I hide ? ' 
 
 ' I'll tell you, grandson. Buy yourself a frying-pan, and hide 
 it so that the merchant shan't see it. When you go to his house 
 he'll try to force a lot of brandy on you. You look out, don't 
 drink much, drink just what you can stand. At midnight, as 
 soon as the wind begins to roar, and the coffin to rock, do you 
 that very moment climb on to the stove-pipe, and cover yourself 
 over with the frying-pan. There no one will find you out.' 
 
 The Soldier had a good sleep, bought himself a frying-pan, 1 
 hid it under his cloak, and towards evening went to the mer- 
 chant's house. The merchant seated him at table and took to 
 plying him with liquor tried every possible kind of invitation and 
 cajolery on him. 
 
 ' No,' says the Soldier, ' that will do. I've had my whack. I 
 won't have any more.' 
 
 ' Well, then, if you won't drink, come along and read your 
 psalter.' 
 
 The merchant took him to his dead daughter, left him alone 
 with her, and locked the door. 
 
 The Soldier read and read. Midnight came, the wind blew, 
 the coffin began to rock, the cover flew afar off. The Soldier 
 
 1 The Russian skovoroda is a sort of stew-pan, of great size, without a 
 handle. 
 
2 8o RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 jumped up on the stove-pipe, covered himself with the frying-pan, 
 protected himself with a sign of the cross, and awaited what was 
 going to happen. Out jumped the witch and began rushing 
 about. Round her came swarming countless devils, the izba 
 was full of them ! They rushed about in search of the Soldier ; 
 they looked into the stove 
 
 * Here's the place,' they cried, ' where he was last night.' 
 < There's the place, but he's not there.' 
 
 This way and that they rush, cannot see him anywhere. 
 Presently there stepped across the threshold a very old devil. 
 ' What are you looking for ? ' 
 
 * The Soldier. He was reading here a moment ago, and now 
 he's disappeared.' 
 
 'Ah ! no eyes ! And who's that sitting on the stove-pipe 
 there?' 
 
 The Soldier's heart thumped like anything; he all but tumbled 
 down on the ground ! 
 
 c There he is, sure enough ! ' cried the devils, ' but how are 
 we to settle him. Surely it's impossible to reach him there ? ' 
 
 ' Impossible, forsooth ! Run and lay your hands on a candle 
 end which has been lighted without a blessing having been 
 uttered over it.' 
 
 In an instant the devils brought the candle-end, piled up a 
 lot of wood right under the stove-pipe, and set it alight. The 
 flame leapt high into the air, the Soldier began to roast : first one 
 foot, then the other, he drew up under him. 
 
 ' Now,' thinks he, * my death has come ! ' 
 
 All of a sudden, luckily for him, the cocks began to crow, the 
 devils vanished, the witch fell flat on the floor. The soldier jumped 
 down from the stove-pipe, and began putting out the fire. When 
 he had put it out he set everything to rights, placed the mer- 
 chant's daughter in her coffin, covered it up with the lid, and 
 betook himself to reading the psalter. At daybreak came the 
 merchant, and listened at the door to find out whether the 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 281 
 
 Soldier was alive or not. When he heard his voice he opened 
 the door and said 
 
 < Hail, Soldier ! ' 
 
 ' I wish you good health, master merchant.' 
 
 ' Have you passed the night comfortably ? ' 
 
 ' Glory be to God, I've seen nothing bad.' 
 
 The merchant gave him a hundred and fifty roubles, and 
 said 
 
 'You've done a deal of work, Soldier! do a little more. 
 Come here to-night and carry my daughter to the graveyard.' 
 
 ' Good, I'll come,' said the Soldier, and was off home. 
 
 ' Well, friend, what has God given ? ' 
 
 ' Glory be to God, grandfather, I've got off safe ! The merchant 
 has asked me to be at his house to-night, to carry his daughter to 
 the graveyard. Should I go or not ? ' 
 
 ' If you go, you won't be alive, and if you don't go, you won't 
 be alive. But you must go ; it will be better so.' 
 
 ' But what must I do ? tell me.' 
 
 e Well this. When you get to the merchant's, everything will 
 be ready there. At ten o'clock the relations of the deceased will 
 begin taking leave of her ; and afterwards they will fasten three 
 iron hoops round the coffin, and place it on the funeral car ; and 
 at eleven o'clock they will tell you to take it to the graveyard. Do 
 you drive off with the coffin, but keep a sharp look-out. One o 
 the hoops will snap. Never fear, keep your seat bravely ; a second 
 will snap, keep your seat all the same ; but when the third hoop 
 snaps, instantly jump on to the horse's back and through the duga 
 (the wooden arch above its neck), and run away backwards. Do 
 that, and no harm will come to you ! 
 
 The Soldier lay down to sleep, slept till the evening, and then 
 went to the merchant's. At ten o'clock the relations began taking 
 leave of the deceased ; then they set to work to fasten iron hoops 
 round the coffin. They fastened the hoops, set the coffin on the 
 iuneral car, and cried 
 
 ' Now then, Soldier ! drive off, and God speed you ! ' 
 
282 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 The Soldier got into the car and set off : at first he drove 
 slowly, but as soon as he was out of sight he let the horse go full 
 split. Away he galloped, but all the while he kept an eye on the 
 coffin. Snap went one hoop and then another. The witch 
 began gnashing her teeth. 
 
 4 Stop ! ' she cried, ' you shan't escape ! I shall eat you up in 
 another moment/ 
 
 ' No, dovey ! Soldiers are crown property ; no one is allowed 
 .to eat them.' 
 
 Here the last hoop snapped : on to the horse jumped the 
 Soldier, and through the duga, and then set off running backwards. 
 The witch leapt out of the coffin and tore away in pursuit. Light- 
 ing on the Soldier's footsteps she followed them back to the horse, 
 ran right round it, saw the Soldier wasn't there, and set off again 
 in pursuit of him. She ran and ran, lighted again on his foot- 
 steps, and again came back to the horse. Utterly at her wit's 
 end, she did the same thing some ten times over. Suddenly the 
 cocks began crowing. There lay the witch stretched out flat 
 on the road ! The Soldier picked her up, put her in the coffin, 
 slammed the lid down, and drove her to the graveyard. When 
 he got there he lowered the coffin into the grave, shovelled the 
 earth on top of it, and returned to the merchant's house. 
 
 ' I've done it all,' says he ; * catch hold of your horse.' 
 
 When the merchant saw the Soldier he stared at him with 
 wide-open eyes. 
 
 1 Well, Soldier ! ' said he, c I know a good deal ! and as to my 
 daughter, we needn't speak of her. She was awfully sharp, she 
 was ! But, really, you know more than we do ! ' 
 
 * Come now, master merchant ! pay me for my work.' 
 
 So the merchant handed him over two hundred roubles. The 
 soldier took them, thanked him, and then went home, and gave 
 his family a feast. 
 
 [The next chapter will contain a number of vampire stories which, in some 
 respects, resemble these tales of homicidal corpses. But most of them belong, 
 I think, to a separate group, due to a different myth or superstition from that 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 283 
 
 which has given rise to such tales as those quoted above. The vampire is 
 actuated by a thirst which can be quenched only by blood, and which impels 
 it to go forth from the grave and destroy. But the enchanted corpses which 
 rise at midnight, and attempt to rend their watchers, appear to owe their ferocity 
 to demoniacal possession. After the death of a witch her body is liable, says 
 popular tradition, to be tenanted by a devil (as may be seen from No. iii.), 
 and to corpses thus possessed have been attributed by the storytellers the 
 terrible deeds which Indian tales relate of Rakshasas and other evil spirits. 
 Thus in the story of Nischayadatta, in the seventh book of the ' Kathasarit- 
 sagara,' the hero and the four pilgrims, his companions, have to pass a night in 
 a deserted temple of Siva. It is haunted by a Yakshini, a female demon, who 
 turns men by spells into brutes, and then eats them ; so they sit watching and 
 praying beside a fire round which they have traced a circle of ashes. At mid- 
 night the demon-enchantress arrives, dancing and ' blowing on a flute made 
 of a dead man's bone.' Fixing her eyes on one of the pilgrims, she mutters a 
 spell, accompanied by a wild dance. Out of the head of the doomed man 
 grows a horn ; he loses all command over himself, leaps up, and dances into 
 the flames. The Yakshini seizes his half-burnt corpse and devours it. Then 
 she treats the second and the third pilgrim in the same way. But just as she is 
 turning to the fourth, she lays her flute on the ground. In an instant the hero 
 seizes it, and begins to blow it and to dance wildly around the Yaks/tint, fixing 
 his eyes upon her and applying to her the words of her own spell. Deprived 
 by it of all power, she submits, and from that time forward renders the hero 
 good service. *] 
 
 In one of the skazkas a malignant witch is destroyed 
 by a benignant female power. It had been predicted that 
 a certain baby princess would begin flying about the world 
 as soon as she was fifteen. So her parents shut her up in 
 a building in which she never saw the light of day, nor the 
 face of a man. For it was illuminated by artificial means, 
 and none but women had access to it. But one day, when 
 her nurses and Mamzeli had gone to a feast at the palace, 
 she found a door unlocked, and made her way into the sun- 
 light. After this her attendants were obliged to allow her 
 to go where she wished, when her parents were away. As 
 she went roaming about the palace she came to a cage ' in 
 
 1 From Professor Brockhaus's summary in the ' Berichte der phil. -hist. 
 Classe der Konigl. Sachs. Gesellschaft der \Vissenschaften,' 1861, pp. 215-16. 
 
284 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 which a Zhar-Ptitsa, 1 lay [as if] dead.' This bird, her 
 guardians told her, slept soundly all day, but at night 
 her papa flew about on it. Farther on she came to a 
 veiled portrait. When the veil was lifted, she cried in 
 astonishment ' Can such beauty be ? ' and determined to 
 fly on the Zhar-Ptitsa to the original of the picture. So at 
 night she sought the Zhar-Ptitsa, which was sitting up and 
 flapping its wings, and asked whether she might fly abroad 
 on its back. The bird consented and bore her far away. 
 Three times it carried her to the room of the prince whose 
 portrait she had so much admired. On the first and second 
 occasion he remained asleep during her visit, having been 
 plunged into a magic slumber by the Zhar-Ptitsa. But 
 during her third visit he awoke, ' and he and she wept and 
 wept, and exchanged betrothal rings.' So long did they 
 remain talking that, before the Zhar-Ptitsa and his rider 
 could get back, ' the day began to dawn the bird sank 
 lower and lower and fell to the ground.' Then the princess, 
 thinking it was really dead, buried it in the earth having 
 first cut off its wings, and ' attached them to herself so as 
 to walk more lightly.' 
 
 After various adventures she comes to a land of mourn- 
 ing. ' Why are you so mournful ? ' she asks. * Because 
 our king's son has gone out of his mind/ is the reply. 'He 
 eats a man every night.' Thereupon she goes to the king 
 and obtains leave to watch the prince by night. As the 
 clock strikes twelve the prince, who is laden with chains, 
 makes a rush at her ; but the wings of the Zhar-Ptitsa rustle 
 around her, and he sits down again. This takes place 
 three times, after which the light goes out. She leaves the 
 
 1 For an account of this mythological bird, see the note on next page. 
 Ornithologically, the Zhar-ptitsa is the Cassowary. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 285 
 
 room in search of the means of rekindling it, sees a glimmer 
 in the distance, and sets off with a lantern in search of it. 
 Presently she finds an old witch who is sitting before a fire, 
 above which seethes a cauldron. ' What have you got 
 there ? ' she asks. ' When this cauldron seethes/ replies 
 the witch, ' within it does the heart of Prince Ivan rage 
 madly.' 
 
 Pretending to be merely getting a light, the princess 
 contrives to splash the seething liquid over the witch, who 
 immediately falls dead. Then she looks into the cauldron, 
 and there, in truth, she sees the prince's heart. When she 
 returns to his room he has recovered his senses. ' Thank 
 you for bringing a light,' he says. ' Why am I in chains ? ' 
 4 Thus and thus/ says she. ' You went out of your mind 
 and ate people.' Whereat he wonders greatly. 1 
 
 The Zhar-Ptitsa y or Fire-bird, which plays so important 
 a part in this story is worthy of special notice. Its name 
 is sufficient to show its close connection with flame or light, 2 
 and its appearance corresponds with its designation. Its 
 feathers blaze with silvery or golden sheen, its eyes shine 
 like crystal, it dwells in a golden cage. In the depth of the 
 night it flies into a garden, and lights it up as brightly as 
 could a thousand burning fires. A single feather from its 
 tail illuminates a dark room. It feeds upon golden apples 
 which have the power of bestowing youth and beauty, or, 
 according to a Croatian version, on magic grasses. Its song, 
 according to Bohemian legends, heals the sick and restores 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. no. From the Nijegorod Government. 
 
 - Zhar = glowing heat, as of a furnace ; zhar-ptitsa = the glow-bird. Its 
 name among the Czekhs and Slovaks is Ptak Ohnivdk. The heathen Slavonians 
 are said to have worshipped Ogon or Agon, Fire, the counterpart of the Vedic 
 Agni. Agon is still the ordinary Russian word for fire, the equivalent of the 
 Latin ignis. 
 
286 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 sight to the blind. We have already seen that, as the 
 Phoenix, of which it seems to be a Slavonic counterpart, dies 
 in the flame from which it springs again into life, so the 
 Zhar-Ptitsa sinks into a death-like slumber when the day 
 dawns, to awake to fresh life after the sunset. 
 
 One of the skazkas l about the Zhar-Ptitsa closely 
 resembles the well-known German tale of the Golden Bird. 2 
 ut it is a 'Chap-book' story, and therefore of doubtful origin. 
 King Vuislaf has an apple tree which bears golden fruits. 
 , These are stolen by a Zhar-Ptitsa which flies every night 
 into the garden, so he orders his sons to keep watch there 
 by turns. The elder brothers cannot keep awake, and see 
 nothing ; but the youngest of the three, Prince Ivan, though 
 he fails to capture the bird, secures one of its tail-feathers. 
 After a time he leaves his home and goes forth in search of 
 the bird. Aided by a wolf, he reaches the garden in which 
 the Zhar-Ptitsa lives, and succeeds in taking it out of its 
 golden cage. But trying, in spite of the wolfs warning, to 
 carry off the cage itself, an alarm is sounded, and he is 
 taken prisoner. After various other adventures he is killed 
 by his envious brothers, but of course all conies right in the 
 end. In a version of the story which comes from the 
 Bukovina, one of the incidents is detailed at greater length 
 than in either the German or the Russian tale. When the 
 hero has been killed by his brothers, and they have carried 
 off the Zhar-Ptitsa, and their victim's golden steed, and his 
 betrothed princess as long as he lies dead, the princess re- 
 mains mute and mournful, the horse refuses to eat, the bird 
 is silent, and its cage is lustreless. But as soon as he comes 
 back to life, the princess regains her spirits, and the horse 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. n. See also the notes in viii. p. 620, etc 
 
 2 Grimm's KM.^ No. 57. See the notes in Bd. iii. p. 98. 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 287 
 
 its appetite ; the Zhar-Ptitsa recommences its magic song,, 
 and its cage flashes anew like fire. 
 
 In another skazka l a sportsman finds in a forest ' a x 
 golden feather of the Zhar-Ptitsa ; like fire does the feather- 
 shine ! ' Against the advice of his ' heroic steed,' he picks, 
 up the feather and takes it to the king, who sends him in 
 search of the bird itself. Then he has wheat scattered on 
 the ground, and at dawn he hides behind a tree near it. 
 ' Presently the forest begins to roar, the sea rises in waves,, 
 and the Zhar-Ptitsa flies up, lights upon the ground and 
 begins to peck the wheat' Then the ' heroic steed ' gallops 
 up, sets its hoof upon the bird's wing, and presses it to the 
 ground, so that the shooter is able to bind it with cords, 
 and take it to the king. In a variant of the story the bird 
 is captured by means of a trap a cage in which ' pearls 
 large and small ' have been strewed. 
 
 I had intended to say something about the various 
 golden-haired or golden-horned animals which figure in the 
 Skazkas, but it will be sufficient for the present to refer to 
 the notices of them which occur in Prof, de Gubernatis' 
 ' Zoological Mythology.' And now I will bring this chap- 
 ter to a close with the following weird story of 
 
 THE WARLOCK. 2 
 
 THERE was once a Moujik, and he had three married sons. He 
 lived a long while, and was looked upon by the village as a 
 Koldun [or wizard]. When he was about to die, he gave orders 
 that his sons' wives should keep watch over him [after his death] 
 for three nights, taking one night apiece ; that his body should 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii. No. 12. 
 
 2 Khudyakof, No. 104. From the Orel Government. 
 
288 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 be placed in the outer chamber, 1 and that his sons' wives should 
 spin wool to make him a caftan. He ordered, moreover, that no 
 cross should be placed upon him, and that none should be worn 
 by his daughters-in-law. 
 
 Well, that same night the eldest daughter-in-law took her 
 seat beside him with some grey wool, and began spinning. Mid- 
 night arrives. Says the father-in-law from his coffin : 
 
 ' Daughter-in-law, art thou there ? ' 
 
 She was terribly frightened, but answered, ( I am.' ' Art 
 thou sitting?' 'I sit.' 'Dost thou spin?' 4 I spin.' 'Grey 
 wool ? ' ' Grey.' ' For a caftan ? ' ' For a caftan.' 
 
 He made a movement towards her. Then a second time he 
 asked again 
 
 1 Daughter-in-law, art thou there ? ' 
 
 'lam.' 'Art thou sitting?' I sit.' 'Dost thou spin?' 'I 
 spin.' ' Grey wool ? ' ' Grey.' 4 For a caftan ? ' ' For a caftan.' 
 
 She shrank into the corner. He moved again, came a couple 
 of yards nearer her. 
 
 A third time he made a movement. She offered up no prayer. 
 He strangled her, and then lay down again in his coffin. 
 
 His sons removed her body, and next evening, in obedience to 
 his paternal behest, they sent another of nis daughters-in-law to 
 keep watch. To her just the same thing happened : he strangled 
 her as he had done the first one. 
 
 But the third was sharper than the other two. She declared 
 she had taken off her cross, but in reality she kept it on. She 
 took her seat and spun, but said prayers to herself all the while. 
 
 Midnight arrives. Says her father-in-law from his coffin 
 
 ' Daughter-in-law, art thou there ? ' 
 
 ' I am,' she replies. 'Art thou sitting? ' ' I sit.' ' Dost thou 
 spin ? ' 'I spin.' ' Grey wool ? ' ' Grey.' ' For a caftan ? ' ' For 
 a caftan.' 
 
 1 The kholodnaya izba the ' cold izba,' as opposed to the ' warm izba ' or 
 * living room. ' 
 
MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT 289 
 
 Just the same took place a second time. The third time, just 
 as he was going to rush at her, she laid the cross upon him. He 
 fell down and died. She looked into the coffin ; there lay ever 
 so much money. The father-in-law wanted to take it away with 
 him, or, at all events, that only some one who could outdo him in 
 cunning should get it. l 
 
 In one of the least intelligible of the West Highland 
 tales, there is a scene which somewhat resembles the 'lyke- 
 wake ' in this skazka. It is called ' The Girl and the Dead 
 Man,' and relates, among other strange things, how a 
 youngest sister took service in a house where a corpse lay. 
 * She sat to watch the dead man, and she was sewing ; in 
 the middle of night he rose up, and screwed up a grin. " If 
 thou dost not lie down properly, I will give thee the one 
 leathering with a stick." He lay down. At the end of a 
 while, he rose on one elbow, and screwed up a grin ; and 
 the third time he rose and screwed up a grin. When he 
 rose the third time, she struck him a lounder of the stick;, 
 the stick stuck to the dead man, and the hand stuck to the 
 stick, and out they were.' Eventually ' she got a peck of 
 gold and a peck of silver, and the vessel of cordial ' and 
 returned home. 2 
 
 The obscurity of the Celtic tale forms a striking con- 
 trast to the lucidity of the Slavonic. The Russian peasant 
 likes a clear statement of facts ; the Highlander seems, like 
 Coleridge's Scotch admirer, to find a pleasure in seeing ' an 
 idea looming out of the mist.' 
 
 1 The etymology of the word koldun is still, I believe, a moot point. The 
 discovery of the money in the warlock's coffin seems an improbable incident. 
 In the original version of the story the wizard may, perhaps, have turned into 
 a heap of gold (see above, p. 224, on ' Gold-men '). 
 
 * Campbell, No. 13, vol. i. p. 215. 
 
 U 
 
RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GHOST STORIES. 
 
 THE Russian peasants have very confused ideas about the 
 local habitation of the disembodied spirit, after its former 
 tenement has been laid in the grave. They seem, from the 
 language of their funeral songs, sometimes to regard the 
 departed spirit as residing in the coffin which holds the 
 bo"dy from which it has been severed, sometimes to imagine 
 that it hovers around the building which used to be its 
 home, or flies abroad on the wings of the winds. In the 
 food and money and other necessaries of existence still 
 placed in the coffin with the corpse, may be seen traces of 
 an old belief in a journey which the soul was forced to 
 undertake after the death of the body ; in the pomniki or 
 feasts in memory of the dead, celebrated at certain short 
 intervals after a death, and also on its anniversary, may 
 be clearly recognised the remains of a faith in the con- 
 tinued residence of the dead in the spot where they had 
 been buried, and in their subjection to some physical suffer- 
 ings, their capacity for certain animal enjoyments. The 
 two beliefs run side by side with each other, sometimes 
 clashing and producing strange results all the more 
 strange when they show signs of an attempt having been 
 made to reconcile them with Christian ideas. 1 
 
 1 Some account of Russian 'funeral rites and beliefs, and of the dirges which 
 are sung at buryings and memorials of the dead, will be found in the ' Songs 
 of the Russian People, ' pp. 309-344. 
 
GHOST STORIES 291 
 
 Of a heavenly or upper-world home of departed spirits, 
 neither the songs nor the stories of the people, so far as I 
 am aware, make mention. But that there is a country 
 beyond the sky, inhabited by supernatural beings of magic 
 power and unbounded wealth, is stated in a number of 
 tales of the well-known ' Jack and the Bean-stalk ' type. 
 Of these the following may be taken as a specimen. 
 
 THE FOX-PHYSICIAN. l 
 
 THERE once was an old -couple. The old man planted a cabbage- 
 head in the cellar under the floor of his cottage ; the old woman 
 planted one in the ash-hole. The old woman's cabbage, in the ash- 
 hole, withered away entirely; but the old man's grew and grew, 
 grew up to the floor. The old man took his hatchet and cut a hole 
 in the floor above the cabbage. The cabbage went on growing 
 again ; grew, grew right up to the ceiling. Again the old man 
 took his hatchet and cut a hole in the ceiling above the cabbage. 
 The cabbage grew and grew, grew right up to the sky. How was 
 the old man to get a look at the head of the cabbage ? He began 
 climbing up the cabbage-stalk, climbed and climbed, climbed and 
 climbed, climbed right up to the sky, cut a hole in the sky, and 
 crept through. There he sees a mill 2 standing. The mill gives a 
 turn out come a pie and a cake with a pot of stewed grain on 
 top. 
 
 The old man ate his fill, drank his fill, and then lay down to 
 sleep. When he had slept enough he slid down to earth again, 
 and cried : 
 
 ' Old woman ! why, old woman ! how one does live up in hea- 
 ven ! There's a mill there every time it turns, out come a pie 
 and a cake, with a pot of kasha on top ! ' 
 
 ' How can I get there, old man ? ' 
 
 1 Afanasief, iv. No. 7. From the Archangel Government. 
 
 2 Zhornovtsui, i.e. mill-stones, or a hand-mill. 
 
 u 2 
 
292 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Slip into this sack, old woman. I'll carry you up.' 
 
 The old woman thought a bit, and then got into the sack. The 
 old man took the sack in his teeth, and began climbing up to 
 heaven. He climbed and climbed, long did he climb. The old 
 woman got tired of waiting and asked : 
 
 ' Is it much farther, old man ? ' 
 
 ' We've half the way to go still/ 
 
 Again he climbed and climbed, climbed and climbed. A second 
 time the old woman asked : 
 
 4 Is it much farther, old man ? ' 
 
 The old man was just beginning to say : .' Not much farther ' 
 when the sack slipped from between his teeth, and the old woman 
 fell to the ground and was smashed all to pieces. The old man 
 slid down the cabbage-stalk and picked up the sack. But it had 
 nothing in it but bones, and those broken very small. The old 
 man went out of his house and wept bitterly. 
 
 Presently a fox met him. 
 
 * What are you crying about, old man ? ' 
 
 'How can I help crying? My old woman is smashed to 
 pieces.' 
 
 ' Hold your noise ! I'll cure her.' 
 
 The old man fell at the fox's feet. 
 
 ' Only cure her ! I'll pay whatever is wanted.' 
 
 ' Well, then, heat the bath-room, carry the old woman there 
 along with a bag of oatmeal and a pot of butter, and then stand 
 outside the door ; but don't look inside.' 
 
 The old man heated the bath-room, carried in what was wanted, 
 and stood outside at the door. But the fox went into the bath- 
 room, shut the door, and began washing the old woman's remains; 
 washed and washed, and kept looking about her all the time. 
 
 1 How's my old woman getting on ? ' asked the old man. 
 
 ' Beginning to stir ! ' replied the fox, who then ate up the old 
 woman, collected her bones and piled them up in a corner, and set 
 to work to knead a hasty pudding. 
 
GHOST STORIES 293 
 
 The old man waited and waited. Presently he asked : 
 
 ' How's my old woman getting on ? ' 
 
 1 Resting a bit ! ' cried the fox, as she gobbled up the hasty- 
 pudding. 
 
 When she had finished it she cried : 
 
 ' Old man ! open the door wide/ 
 
 He opened it, and the fox sprang out of the bath-room and 
 ran off home. The old man went into the bath-room and looked 
 about him. Nothing was to be seen but the old woman's bones 
 under the bench and those picked so clean ! As for the oatmeal 
 and the butter, they had all been eaten up. So the old man was 
 left alone and in poverty. 
 
 This story is evidently a combination of two widely dif- 
 fering tales. The catastrophe we may for the present pass 
 over, but about the opening some few words may be said. 
 The Bean-stalk myth is one which is found among so many 
 peoples in such widely distant regions, and it deals with 
 ideas of such importance, that no contribution to its history 
 can be considered valueless. Most remarkable among its 
 numerous forms are those American and Malayo-Poly- 
 nesian versions of the ' heaven-tree ' story which Mr. Tylor 
 has brought together in his ' Early History of Mankind.' l 
 In Europe it is usually found in a very crude and frag- 
 mentary form, having been preserved, for the most part, as 
 the introduction to some other story which has proved more 
 attractive to the popular fancy. The Russian versions are all, 
 as far as I am aware, of this nature. I have already 2 
 mentioned one of them, in which, also, the Fox plays a 
 
 1 Pp. 341-349 of the first edition. See, also, for some other versions of 
 the story, as well as for an attempt to explain it, A. de Gubernatis, ' Zoological 
 Mythology,' i. 243, 244. 
 
 2 See supra, chap. I. p. 22. 
 
294 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 prominent part. Its opening words are ' There once lived an 
 old man and an old woman, and they had a little daughter. 
 One day she was eating beans, and she let one fall on the 
 ground. The bean grew and grew, and grew right up to 
 heaven. The old man climbed up to heaven, slipped in 
 there, walked and walked, admired and admired, and said to 
 himself " I'll go and fetch the old woman ; won't she just be 
 delighted ! " ' So he tries to carry his wife up the bean-stalk, 
 but grows faint and lets her fall ; she is killed, and he calls 
 in the Fox as Wailer. 1 
 
 In a variant of the l Fox Physician' from the Vologda 
 Government, it is a pea which gives birth to the wondrous 
 tree. ' There lived an old man and an old woman ; the old 
 man was rolling a pea about, and it fell on the ground. 
 They searched and searched a whole week, but they 
 couldn't find it. The week passed by, and the old people 
 saw that the pea had begun to sprout. They watered 
 it regularly, and the pea set to work and grew higher than 
 the izba. When the peas ripened the old man climbed up 
 to where they were, plucked a great bundle of them, and 
 began sliding down the stalk again. But the bundle fell out 
 of the old man's hands and killed the old woman.' 2 
 
 According to another variant, ' There once lived a grand- 
 father and a grandmother, and they had a hut. The grand- 
 father sowed a bean under the table, and the grandmother 
 a pea. A hen gobbled up the pea, but the bean grew up as 
 high as the table. They moved the table, and the bean grew 
 still higher. They cut away the ceiling and the roof ; it went 
 on growing until' it grew right up to the heavens (ncbo). The 
 grandfather climbed up to heaven, climbed and climbed 
 
 1 Afanasief, iv. No. 9. 2 Ibid., iv. No. 7. p. 34. 
 
GHOS7 STORIES 295 
 
 there stood a hut (khatka), its walls of pancakes, its benches 
 of white bread, the stove of buttered curds. He began to eat, 
 ate his fill, and lay down above the stove to sleep. In came 
 twelve sister-goats. The first had one eye, the second two 
 eyes, the third three, and so on with the rest, the last having 
 twelve eyes. They saw that some one had been meddling 
 with their hut, so they put it to rights, and when they went 
 out they left the one-eyed to keep watch. Next day the 
 grandfather again climbed up there, saw One-Eye and began 
 to mutter 1 " Sleep, eye, sleep !" The goat went to sleep. 
 The man ate his fill and went away. Next day the two- 
 eyed kept watch, and after it the three-eyed and so on. 
 The grandfather always muttered his charm " Sleep, eye ! 
 Sleep, second eye ! Sleep, third eye ! " and so on. But 
 with the twelfth goat he failed, for he charmed only eleven 
 of her eyes. The goat saw him with the twelfth and 
 caught him,' and there the story ends. 2 
 
 In another instance the myth has been turned into one 
 of those tales of the Munchausen class, the title of which is 
 the ' saw ' Ne lyubo, ne slushai, i.e. ' If you don't like, don't 
 listen ' the final words being understood, ' but let me tell 
 you a story/ A cock finds a pea in the part of a cottage 
 under the floor, and begins calling to the hens ; the cottager 
 hears the call, drives away the cock, and pours water over 
 the pea. It grows up to the floor, up to the ceiling, up to 
 the roof ; each time way is made for it, and finally it grows 
 right up to heaven (do nebushka}. Says the moujik to his 
 wife : 
 
 ' Wife ! wife, I say ! shall I climb up into heaven and see 
 
 1 Prigovarivaf = to say or sing while using certain (usually menacing) 
 .gestures. 
 
 2 Afanasief, iv. p. 35. 
 
296 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 what's going on there ? May be there's sugar there, and. 
 mead lots of everything !' 
 
 1 Climb away, if you've a mind to/ replies his wife. 
 
 So he climbs up, and there he finds a large wooden 
 house. He enters in and sees a stove, garnished with suck- 
 ing pigs and geese and pies 'and everything which the 
 soul could desire.' But the stove is guarded by a seven- 
 eyed goat ; the moujik charms six of the eyes to sleep, but 
 overlooks the seventh. With it the goat sees him eat and 
 drink and then go to sleep. The house-master comes in, 
 is informed by the goat of all that has occurred, flies, 
 into a passion, calls his servants, and has the intruder turned 
 out of the house. When the moujik comes to the place 
 where- the pea-stalk had been, ' he looks around no pea- 
 stalk is there.' He collects the cobwebs ' which float on the 
 summer air,' and of them he makes a cord ; this he fastens 
 ' to the edge of heaven ' and begins to descend. Long 
 before he reaches the earth he comes to the end of his 
 cord, so he crosses himself, and lets go. Falling into a 
 swamp, he remains there some time. At* last a duck builds 
 her nest on his head, and lays an egg in it. He catches hold 
 of the duck's tail, and the bird pulls him out of the swamp ; 
 whereupon he goes home rejoicing, taking with him the 
 duck and her egg, and tells his wife all that has happened. 1 
 
 In another variant it is an acorn which is sown under 
 the floor. From it springs an oak which grows to the 
 skies. The old man of the story climbs up it in search of 
 acorns, and reaches heaven. There he finds a hand-mill 
 and a cock with a golden comb, both of which he carries 
 off. The mill grinds pies and pancakes, and the old man 
 
 1 Afanasief, vi. No. 2. 
 
GHOST STORIES 297- 
 
 and his wife live in plenty. But after a time a Barin or 
 Seigneur steals the mill. The old people are in despair,, 
 but the golden-combed cock flies after the mill, perches on 
 the Barin's gates, and cries 
 
 ' Kukureku ! Boyarin, Boyarin ! Give us back our 
 golden, sky-blue mill ! ' 
 
 The cock is flung into the well, but it drinks all the 
 water, flies up to the Barin's house, and there reiterates, 
 its demand. Then it is thrown into the fire, but it extin- 
 guishes the flames, flies right into the Barin's guest-chamber, 
 and crows as before. The guests disperse, the Barin runs 
 after them, and the golden-combed cock seizes the mill 
 and flies away with it. 1 
 
 In a variant from the Smolensk Government, it is the 
 wife who climbs up the pea-stalk, while the husband 
 remains down below. When she reaches the top, she finds 
 an isbiishka or cottage there, its walls made of pies, its 
 tables of cheese, its stove of pancakes, and so forth. After 
 she has feasted and gone to sleep in a corner, in come three 
 goats, of which the first has two eyes and two ears, the 
 second has three of each of these organs, and the third has. 
 four. The old woman sends to sleep the ears and the eyes 
 of the first and the second goat ; but when the third watches 
 it retains the use of its fourth eye and fourth ear, in spite of 
 the incantations uttered by the intruder, and so finds her 
 out. On being questioned, she explains that she has come 
 ' from the earthly realm into the heavenly/ and promises 
 not to repeat her visit if she is dismissed in peace. So the 
 goats let her go, and give her a bag of nuts, apples, and 
 other good things to take with her. She slides down the. 
 
 1 Afanasief, 'Legendui,' No. 33. 
 
298 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 pea-stalk and tells her husband all that has happened. He 
 persuades her to undertake a second ascent together with 
 him, so off they set in company, their young granddaughter 
 climbing after them. Suddenly the pea-stalk breaks, they 
 fall headlong and are never heard of again. ' Since that 
 time,' says the story, 'no one has ever set foot in that 
 heavenly izbushka so no one knows anything more about 
 it/ 1 
 
 Clearer and fuller than these vague and fragmentary 
 sketches of a ' heavenly realm ' are the pictures contained 
 in the Russian folk-tales of the underground world. But it 
 is very doubtful how far the stories in which they figure 
 represent ancient Slavonic ideas. In the name, if not in 
 the nature, of the Ad, or subterranean abode of evil spirits 
 and sinful souls, we recognise the influence of the Byzantine 
 Hades ; but most of the tales in which it occurs are sup- 
 posed to draw their original inspiration from Indian sources, 
 while they owe to Christian, Brahmanic, Buddhistic, and 
 Mohammedan influences the form in which they now ap- 
 pear. To these l legends/ as the folk-tales are styled in 
 which the saints or their ghostly enemies occur, belongs 
 the following narrative of 
 
 THE FIDDLER IN HELL. 2 
 
 THERE was a certain moujik who had three sons. His life was a 
 prosperous one, and he laid by money enough to fill two pots. The 
 one he buried in his corn-kiln, the other under the gate of his farm- 
 yard. Well, the moujik died, and never said a word about the 
 money to any one. One day there was a festival in the village. A 
 fiddler was on his way to the revel when, all of a sudden, he sank 
 
 1 Chudinsky, No. 9. 
 
 2 Afanasief, v. No. 47. From the Tver Government. 
 
GHOST STORIES 299 
 
 into the earth sank right through and tumbled into hell, lighting 
 exactly there where the rich moujik was being tormented. 
 
 * Hail, friend ! ' says the Fiddler. 
 
 < It's an ill wind that's brought you hither ! ' 1 answers the 
 moujik ; ' this is hell, and in hell here I sit.' 
 1 What was it brought you here, uncle ? ' 
 
 * It was money ! I had much money : I gave none to the 
 poor, two pots of it did I bury underground. See now, they are 
 going to torment me, to beat me with sticks, to tear me with nails/ 
 
 ' Whatever shall I do ?' cried the Fiddler. ' Perhaps they'll take 
 to torturing me too ! ' 
 
 ' If you go and sit on the stove behind the chimney-pipe, 
 and don't eat anything for three years then you will remain 
 safe.' 
 
 The Fiddler hid behind the stove-pipe. Then came fiends, 2 and 
 they began to beat the rich moujik, reviling him the while, and 
 saying : 
 
 ' There's for thee, O rich man. Pots of money didst thou bury, 
 but thou couldst not hide them. There didst thou bury them 
 that we might not be able to keep watch over them. At the gate 
 people are always riding about, the horses crush our heads with 
 their hoofs, and in the corn-kiln we get beaten with flails.' 
 
 As soon as the fiends had gone away the moujik said to the 
 Fiddler : 
 
 4 If you get out of here, tell my children to dig up the money 
 cue pot is buried at the gate, and the other in the corn-kiln 
 and to distribute it among the poor.' 
 
 Afterwards there came a whole roomful of evil ones, and they 
 asked the rich moujik : 
 
 ' What have you got here that smells so Russian ? ' 
 
 1 ' You have fallen here neladno. Ladno means 'well,' 'propitiously,' &c., 
 also 'in tune.' 
 
 2 Nenashi = not ours. 
 
300 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 6 You have been in Russia and brought away a Russian smell 
 with you/ replied the moujik. 
 
 ' How could that be ? ' they said. Then they began looking, 
 they found the Fiddler, and they shouted : 
 
 ' Ha, ha, ha ! Here's a Fiddler/ 
 
 They pulled him off the stove, and set him to work riddling. 
 He played three years, though it seemed to him only three days. 
 Then he got tired and said : 
 
 * Here's a wonder ! After playing a whole evening I used always 
 to find all my fiddle-strings snapped. But now, though I've been 
 playing for three whole days, they are all sound. May the Lord 
 grant us his blessing ! ' l 
 
 No sooner had he uttered these words than every one of the 
 strings snapped. 
 
 1 There now, brothers ! ' says the Fiddler, ' you can see for 
 yourselves. The strings are snapped ; I've nothing to play on ! ' 
 
 'Wait a bit !' said one of the fiends. ' I've got two hanks of 
 catgut ; I'll fetch them for you.' 
 
 He ran off and fetched them. The Fiddler took the strings, 
 screwed them up, and again uttered the words : 
 
 i May the Lord grant us his blessing ! ' , 
 
 In a moment snap went both hanks. 
 
 ' No, brothers ! ' said the Fiddler, ' your strings don't suit me. 
 I've got some of my own at home ; by your leave I'll go for 
 them.' 
 
 The fiends wouldn't let him go. ' You wouldn't come back,* 
 they say. 
 
 ' Well, if you won't trust me, send some one with me as an 
 escort.' 
 
 The fiends chose one of their number, and sent him with the 
 Fiddler. The Fiddler got back to the village. There he 
 could hear that, in the farthest cottage, a wedding was being cele- 
 brated. 
 
 1 Gospodi llagoslovi ! exactly our ' God' bless us ;' with us now merely an 
 expression of surprise. 
 
GHOST STORIES 301 
 
 ' Let's go to the wedding ! ' he cried. 
 
 1 Come along ! ' said the fiend. 
 
 They entered the cottage. Everyone there recognised the 
 Fiddler and cried : 
 
 * Where have you been hiding these three years ? ' 
 
 ' I have been in the other world ! ' he replied. 
 
 They sat there and enjoyed themselves for some time. Then 
 the fiend beckoned to the Fiddler, saying, l It's time to be off! ' 
 But the Fiddler replied : ' Wait a little longer ! Let me fiddle 
 away a bit and cheer up the young people.' And so they re- 
 mained sitting there till the cocks began to crow. Then the fiend 
 disappeared. 
 
 After that, the Fiddler began to talk to the sons of the rich 
 moujik, and said : 
 
 * Your father bids you dig up the money one potful is buried 
 at the gate and the other in the corn-kiln and distribute the whole 
 of it among the poor.' 
 
 Well, they dug up both the pots, and began to distribute the 
 money among the poor. But the more they gave away the 
 money, the more did it increase. Then they carried out the pots 
 to a crossway. Every one who passed by took out of them as 
 much money as his hand could grasp, and yet the money wouldn't 
 come to an end. Then they presented a petition to the Em- 
 peror, and he ordained as follows. There was a certain town, the 
 road to which was a very roundabout one. It was some fifty versts 
 long, whereas if it had been made in a straight line it would not 
 have been more than five. And so the Emperor ordained that 
 a bridge should be made the whole way. Well, they built a 
 bridge five versts long, and this piece of work cleared out both 
 the pots. 
 
 About that time a certain maid bore a son and deserted him in 
 his infancy. The child neither ate nor drank for three years, and 
 an angel of God always went about with him. Well, this child 
 came to the bridge, and cried : 
 
302 
 
 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 1 Ah ! what a glorious bridge ! God grant the kingdom of 
 heaven to him at whose cost it was built ! ' 
 
 The Lord heard this prayer, and ordered his angels to release 
 the rich moujik from the depths of hell. 1 
 
 With the bridge-building episode in this ' legend ' may 
 be compared the opening of another Russian story. In it 
 a merchant is described as having much money but no 
 children. So he and his wife ' began to pray to God, en- 
 treating him to give them a child for solace in their youth, 
 for support in their old age, for soul-remembrance 2 after 
 death. And they took to feeding the poor and distributing 
 alms. Besides all this, they resolved to build, for the use of 
 all the faithful, a long bridge across swamps and where no 
 man could find a footing. Much wealth did the merchant 
 expend, but he built the bridge, and when the work was 
 completed he sent his manager Fedor, saying 
 
 ' " Go and sit under the bridge, and listen to what folks 
 say about me whether they bless me or revile me." 
 
 1 Fedor set off, sat under the bridge, and listened. 
 Presently three Holy Elders went over the bridge, and said 
 one to another 
 
 ' " How ought the man who built this bridge to be re- 
 warded ? " " Let there be born to him a fortunate son. 
 Whatsoever that son says it shall be done : whatsoever 
 he desires that will the Lord bestow ! " ' 3 
 
 1 Iz adu kromyeshnago = from the last hell. Kromyeshnaya fma = titter 
 darkness. Kromyeshny, or kromyeshnaya, is sometimes used by itself to signify 
 hell. 
 
 2 Ha pomin dushi. Pomin = 'remembrance,' also 'prayers for the 
 dead.' 
 
 3 Afanasief, vii. No. 20. In some variants of this story, instead of the 
 three holy elders appear the Saviour, St. Nicholas, and St. Mitrofan. 
 
GHOST STORIES 303 
 
 The rest of the story closely resembles the German tale 
 of * The Pink.' * In the corresponding Bohemian story 
 of ' The Treacherous Servant/ * it may be observed, the 
 bridge-building incident" has been preserved. 
 
 But I will not dwell any longer on the story of the 
 Fiddler, as I propose to give some account in the next 
 chapter of several other tales of the same class, in most of 
 which such descriptions of evil spirits are introduced as 
 have manifestly been altered into what their narrators con- 
 sidered to be in accordance with Christian teaching. And 
 so I will revert to those ideas about the dead, and about 
 their abiding place, which the modern Slavonians seem 
 to have inherited from their heathen ancestors, and I will 
 attempt to illustrate them by a few Russian ghost-stories. 
 Those stories are, as a general rule, of a most ghastly 
 nature, but there are a few into the composition of which 
 the savage element does not enter. The ' Dead Mother,' 
 which has already been quoted, 3 belongs to the latter class ; 
 and so does the following tale which, as it bears no title in 
 the original, we may name 
 
 THE RIDE ON THE GRAVESTONE.* 
 
 LATE one evening a certain artisan happened to be returning home 
 from a jovial feast in a distant village. There met him on the way 
 an old friend, one who had been dead some ten years. 
 
 1 Good health to you ! ' said the dead man. 
 
 ' I wish you good health ! ' replied the reveller, and straight- 
 way forgot that his acquaintance had ever so long ago bidden the 
 world farewell 
 
 1 * Die Nelke,' Grimm, KM., No. 76, and voL ill pp. 125-6. 
 
 Wenzig, No. 17, pp. 82-6. 
 
 See Chap. I. p. 19. 4 Afanasief, v. p. 144. 
 
 4 
 

304 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 'Let's go to my house. We'll quaff a cup or two once 
 more/ 
 
 ' Come along. On such a happy occasion as this meeting of 
 ours, we may as well have a drink.' 
 
 They arrived at a dwelling and there they drank and revelled. 
 
 ' Now then, good-bye ! It's time for me to go home/ said the 
 -artisan. 
 
 ' Stay a bit Where do you .want to go now ? Spend the night 
 Tiere with me.' . 
 
 ' No, brother ! don't ask me ; it cannot be. I've business to 
 do to-morrow, so I must get home as early as possible.' 
 
 ' Well, good-bye ! but why should you walk ? Better get on my 
 Tiorse ; it will carry you home quickly.' 
 
 'Thanks ! let's have it.' 
 
 He got on its back, and was carried off just as a whirlwind 
 flies ! All of a sudden a cock crew. It was awful ! All around 
 were graves, and the rider found he had a gravestone under 
 him ! 
 
 Of a somewhat similar nature is the story of 
 
 THE Two FRIENDS.* - 
 
 IN the days of old there lived in a certain village two young men. 
 They were great friends, went to besyedas* together, in fact re- 
 garded each other as brothers. And they made this mutual 
 agreement Whichever of the two should marry first was to invite 
 his comrade to his wedding. And it was not to make any differ- 
 ence whether he was alive or dead. 
 
 About a year after this one of the young men fell ill and died. 
 A few months later his comrade took it into his head to get 
 married. So he collected all his kinsmen, and set off to fetch 
 his bride. Now it happened that they drove past the graveyard, 
 
 1 Afanasief, vL p. 322-3. , . 
 
 * Evening gatherings of young people. 
 
GHOST STORIES 305 
 
 and the bridegroom recalled his friend to mind, and remembered 
 his old agreement So he had the horses stopped, saying : 
 
 ' I'm going to my comrade's grave. I shall ask him to come 
 and enjoy himself at my wedding. A right trusty friend was he to 
 me.' 
 
 So he went to the grave and began to call aloud : 
 
 * Comrade dear ! I invite thee to my wedding.' 
 Suddenly the grave yawned, the dead man arose, and said : 
 
 ' Thanks be to thee, brother, that thou hast fulfilled thy pro- 
 mise. And now, that we may profit by this happy chance, enter 
 my abode. Let us quaff a glass apiece of grateful drink.' 
 
 * I'd have gone, only the marriage procession is stopping out- 
 side ; all the folks are waiting for me/ 
 
 * Eh, brother ! ' replied the dead man, ' surely it won't take long 
 to toss off a glass ! ' 
 
 The bridegroom jumped into the grave. The dead man 
 poured him out a cup of liquor. He drank it off and a hundred 
 years passed away. 
 
 * Quaff another cup, dear friend ! ' said the dead man. 
 
 He drank a second cup two hundred years passed away. 
 
 * Now, comrade dear, quaff a third cup ! ' said the dead man, 
 * and then go, in God's name, and celebrate thy marriage ! ' 
 
 He drank the third cup three hundred years passed away. 
 
 The dead man took leave of his comrade. The coffin lid fell ; 
 the grave closed. 
 
 The bridegroom looked around. Where the graveyard had 
 been, was now a piece of waste ground. No road was to be seen, 
 no kinsmen, no horses. All around grew nettles and tall grass. 
 
 He ran to the village but the village was not what it used to 
 be. The houses were different ; the people were all strangers to 
 him. He went to the priest's but the priest was not the one who 
 used to be there and told him about everything that had happened. 
 The priest searched through the church-books, and found that, 
 three hundred years before, this occurrence had taken place : a 
 bridegroom had gone to the graveyard on his wedding-day, and 
 
 X 
 
306 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 had disappeared. And his bride, after some time had passed by, 
 had married another man. 
 
 [The * Rip van Winkle ' story is too well known to require more than a 
 passing allusion. It was, doubtless founded on one of the numerous folk-tales 
 which correspond to the Christian legend of ' The Seven Sleepers of Ephesus ' 
 itself an echo of an older tale (see Baring Gould, * Curious Myths,' 1872, pp. 
 93-1 12, and Cox, ' Mythology of the Aryan Nations,' i. 413) and to that of the 
 monk who listens to a bird singing in the convent garden, and remains en- 
 tranced for the space of many years : of which latter legend a Russian version 
 occurs in Chudinsky's collection (No. 17, pp. 92-4). Very close indeed is the 
 resemblance between the Russian story of ' The Two Friends,' and the Norse 
 ' Friends in Life and Death ' (Asbjornsen's New Series, No. 62, pp. 5-7). In 
 the latter the bridegroom knocks hard and long on his dead friend's grave. 
 At length its occupant appears, and accounts for his delay by saying he had 
 been far away when the first knocks came, and so had not heard them. Then 
 he follows the bridegroom to church and from church, and afterwards the 
 bridegroom sees him back to his tomb. On the way the living man expresses 
 a desire to see something of the world beyond the grave, and the corpse fulfils 
 his wish, having first placed on his head a sod cut in the graveyard. After 
 witnessing many strange sights, the bridegroom .is told to sit down and wait 
 till his guide returns. When he rises to his feet, he is all overgrown with 
 mosses and shrubs (var han overvoxen med Mose og Busker), and when he 
 reaches the outer world he finds all things changed.] 
 
 But from these dim sketches of a life beyond, or rather 
 within the grave, in which memories of qld days and old 
 friendships are preserved by ghosts of an almost genial and 
 entirely harmless disposition, we will now turn to those 
 more elaborate pictures in which the dead are represented 
 under an altogether terrific aspect. It is not as an incor- 
 poreal being that the visitor from the other world is repre- 
 sented in the Skazkas. He comes not as a mere phantom, 
 intangible, impalpable, incapable of physical exertion, 
 haunting the dwelling which once was his home, or the spot 
 to which he is drawn by the memory of some unexpiated 
 crime. It is as a vitalized corpse that he comes to trouble 
 mankind, often subject to human appetites, constantly en- 
 dowed with more than human strength and malignity. 
 
GHOST STORIES 307 
 
 His apparel Is generally that of the grave, and he cannot 
 endure to part with it, as may be seen from the following 
 story 
 
 THE SHROUD. 1 
 
 IN a certain village there was a girl who was lazy and slothful, 
 hated working, but would gossip and chatter away like anything ! 
 Well, she took it into her head to invite the other girls to a spin- 
 ning party. For in the villages, as every one knows, it is the 
 lazybones who gives the spinning-feast, and the sweet-toothed are 
 those who go to it. 
 
 Well, on the appointed night she got her spinners together. 
 They span for her, and she fed them and feasted them. Among 
 other things they chatted about was this which of them all was 
 the boldest ? 
 
 Says the lazybones (lezhaka) : 
 
 ' I'm not afraid of anything ! ' 
 
 ' Well then,' say the spinners, ' if you're not afraid, go past the 
 graveyard to the church, take down the holy picture from the door, 
 and bring it here.' 
 
 f Good, I'll bring it ; only each of you must spin me a distaff- 
 ful.' 
 
 That was just her sort of notion : to do nothing herself, but to 
 get others to do it for her. Well, she went, took down the picture, 
 and brought it home with her. Her friends all saw that sure enough 
 it was the picture from the church. But the picture had to be taken 
 back again, and it was now the midnight hour. Who was to take 
 it ? At length the lazybones said : 
 
 ' You girls go on spinning. I'll take it back myself. I'm not 
 afraid of anything ! ' 
 
 So she went and put the picture back in its place. As she was 
 passing the graveyard on her return, she saw a corpse in a white 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 30 a, pp. 140-2. From the Voroneje Government. 
 
 X2 
 
3 o8 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 shroud, seated on a tomb. It was a moonlight night ; everything 
 was visible. She went up to the corpse, and drew away its shroud 
 from it. The corpse held its peace, not uttering a word ; no doubt 
 the time for it to speak had not corrie yet. Well, she took the 
 shroud and went home. 
 
 ' There ! ' says she, ' I've taken back the picture and put it 
 in its place ; and, what's more, here's a shroud I took away from a 
 corpse.' 
 
 Some of the girls were horrified ; others didn't believe what she 
 said, and laughed at her. 
 
 But after they had supped and lain down to sleep, all of a 
 sudden the corpse tapped at the window and said : 
 
 * Give me my shroud ! Give me my shroud ! ' 
 
 The girls were so frightened they didn't know whether they 
 were alive or dead. But the lazybones took the shroud, went to 
 the window, opened it, and said : 
 
 ' There, take it' 
 
 c No,' replied the corpse, f restore it to the place you took it 
 from.' 
 
 Just then the cocks suddenly began to crow. The corpse dis- 
 appeared. 
 
 Next night, when the spinners had all gone home to their own 
 houses, at the very same hour as before, the corpse came, tapped 
 at the window, and cried : 
 
 1 Give me my shroud ! ' 
 
 Well, the girl's father and mother opened the window and 
 offered him his shroud. 
 
 * No,' says he, ' let her take it back to the place she took it 
 from.' 
 
 1 Really now, how could one go to a graveyard with a corpse? 
 What a horrible idea ! ' she replied. 
 
 Just then the cocks crew. The corpse disappeared. 
 
 Next day the girl's father and mother sent for the priest, told 
 him the whole story, and entreated him to help them in their 
 trouble. 
 
GHOST .STORIES 309 
 
 * Couldn't a service 1 be performed?' they said. 
 The priest reflected awhile ; then he replied : 
 ' Please to tell her to come to church to-morrow.' 
 Next day the lazybones went to church. The service began, 
 numbers of people came to it. But just as they were going to 
 sing the cherubim song, 2 there suddenly arose, goodness knows 
 whence, so terrible a whirlwind that all the congregation fell flat 
 on their faces. And it caught up that girl, and then flung her down 
 on the ground. The girl disappeared from sight ; nothing was 
 left of her but her back hair. 3 
 
 They are generally the corpses of wizards, or of other 
 sinners who have led specially unholy lives, which leave 
 their graves by night and wander abroad. Into such bodies, 
 it is held, demons enter, and the combination of fiend and , 
 corpse goes forth as the terrible Vampire thirsting for 
 blood. Of the proceedings of such a being the next story 
 gives a detailed account, from which, among other things, 
 may be learnt the fact that Slavonic corpses attach great 
 importance to their coffin-lids as well as to their shrouds. 
 
 THE COFFIN-LID.* 
 
 A MOUJIK was driving along one night with a load of pots. His 
 horse grew tired, and all of a sudden it came to a stand- still along- 
 side of a graveyard. The moujik unharnessed his horse and set 
 it free to graze ; meanwhile he laid himself down on one of the 
 graves. But somehow he didn't go to sleep. 
 
 1 Obyednya, the service answering to the Latin mass. 
 
 2 At the end of the obyednya. 
 
 8 The kosa or single braid in which Russian girls wear their hair. See 
 * Songs of the Russian People,' pp. 272-5. On a story of this kind Goethe 
 founded his weird ballad of ' Der Todtentanz.' Cf. Bertram's ' Sagen,' No. 18. 
 
 4 Afanasief, v. pp. 142-4. From the Tambof Government. 
 
3io RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 He remained lying there some time. Suddenly the grave 
 began to open beneath him : he felt the movement and sprang to 
 his feet. The grave opened, and out of it came a corpse wrapped 
 in a white shroud, and holding a coffin- lid came out and ran to 
 the church, laid the coffin-lid at the door, and then set off for the 
 village. 
 
 The moujik was a daring fellow. He picked up the coffin-lid 
 and remained standing beside his cart, waiting to see what would 
 happen. After a short delay the dead man came back, and was 
 going to snatch up his coffin-lid but it was not to be seen. Then 
 the corpse began to track it out, traced it up to the moujik, and 
 said : 
 
 4 Give me my lid : if you don't, I'll tear you to bits ! ' 
 
 'And my hatchet, how about that?' answers the moujik. 
 4 Why, it's I who'll be chopping you into small pieces ! ' 
 
 4 Do give it back to me, good man ! ' begs the corpse. 
 
 4 I'll give it when you tell me where you've been and what 
 you've done.' 
 
 * Well, I've been in the village, and there I've killed a couple 
 of youngsters.' 
 
 4 Well then, now tell me how they can r^e brought back to 
 life.' 
 
 The corpse reluctantly made answer : 
 
 * Cut off the left skirt of my shroud, and take it with you. 
 When you come into the house where the youngsters were killed, 
 pour some live coals into a pot and put the piece of the shroud in 
 with them, and then lock the door. The lads will be revived by 
 the smoke immediately/ 
 
 The moujik cut off the left skirt of the shroud, and gave up 
 the coffin-lid. The corpse went to its grave the grave opened. 
 But just as the dead man was descending into it, all of a sudden 
 the cocks began to crow, and he hadn't time to get properly 
 covered over. One end of the coffin-lid remained sticking out of 
 the ground. 
 
 The moujik saw all this and made a note of it. The day 
 
GHOST STORIES 311 
 
 began to dawn ; he harnessed his horse and drove into the village. 
 In one of the houses he heard cries and wailing. In he went 
 there lay two dead lads. 
 
 ' Don't cry/ says he, * I can bring them to life ! ' 
 
 ' Do bring them to life, kinsman/ say their relatives. ' We'll 
 give you half of all we possess.' 
 
 The moujik did everything as the corpse had instructed him, 
 and the lads came back to life. Their relatives were delighted, 
 but they immediately seized the moujik and bound him with cords, 
 saying : 
 
 4 No, no, trickster ! We'll hand you over to the authorities. 
 Since you knew how to bring them back to life, maybe it was you 
 who killed them ! ' 
 
 1 What are you thinking about, true believers ! Have the fear 
 of God before your eyes ! ' cried the moujik. 
 
 Then he told them everything that had happened to him 
 during the night. Well, they spread the news through the village ; 
 the whole population assembled and swarmed into the graveyard 
 They found out the grave from which the dead man had come 
 out, they tore it open, and they drove an aspen stake right into 
 the heart of the corpse, so that it might no more rise up and slay. 
 But they rewarded the moujik richly, and sent him away home with 
 great honour. 
 
 It is not only during sleep that the Vampire is to be 
 dreaded. At cross-roads, or in the neighbourhood of 
 cemeteries, an animated corpse of this description often 
 lurks, watching for some unwary wayfarer whom it may be 
 able to slay and eat. Past such dangerous spots as these 
 the belated villager will speed with timorous steps, remem- 
 bering, perhaps, some such uncanny tale as that which 
 comes next. 
 
3 i2 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 THE Two CORPSES. 1 
 
 A SOLDIER had obtained leave to go home on furlough to pray 
 to the holy images, and to bow down before his parents. And as 
 he was going his way, at a time when the sun had long set, and all 
 was dark around, it chanced that he had to pass by a graveyard. 
 Just then he heard that some one was running after him, and 
 crying : 
 
 * Stop ! you can't escape ! ' 
 
 He looked back and there was a corpse running and gnashing 
 its teeth. The Soldier sprang on one side with all his might to get 
 away from it, caught sight of a little chapel, 2 and bolted straight 
 into it. 
 
 There wasn't a soul in the chapel, but stretched out on a table 
 there lay another corpse, with tapers burning in front of it. The 
 Soldier hid himself in a corner, and remained there hardly knowing 
 whether he was alive or dead, but waiting to see what would 
 happen. Presently up ran the first corpse the one that had 
 chased the Soldier and dashed into the chapel. Thereupon the 
 one that was lying on the table jumped up, and cried to it : 
 
 ' What hast thou come here for ? ' 
 
 ' I've chased a soldier in here, so I'm going to eat him/ 
 
 * Come now, brother ! he's run into my house. I shall eat him 
 myself.' 
 
 1 No, I shall ! ' 
 
 No, I shall ! ; 
 
 And they set to work fighting ; the dust flew like anything. 
 They'd have gone on fighting ever so much longer, only the cocks 
 began to crow. Then both the corpses fell lifeless to the ground,, 
 and the Soldier went on his way homeward in peace, saying : 
 
 1 Glory be to Thee, O Lord ! I am saved from the wizards 1 ' 
 
 1 Afanasief, vi. pp. 324-5. 
 
 2 Chasovenka, a small chapel, shrine, or oratory. 
 
GHOST STORIES 313 
 
 Even the possession of arms and the presence of a dog 
 will not always, it seems, render a man secure from this- 
 terrible species of cut-throat. 
 
 THE DOG AND THE CORPSE. 1 
 
 A MOUJIK went out in pursuit of game one day, and took a 
 favourite dog with him. He walked and walked through woods 
 and bogs, but got nothing for his pains. At last the darkness of 
 night surprised him. At an uncanny hour he passed by a grave- 
 yard, and there, at a place where two roads met, he saw standing 
 a corpse in a white shroud. The moujik was horrified, and 
 knew not which way to go whether to keep on or to turn back. 
 
 ' Well, whatever happens, I'll go on/ he thought ; and on he 
 went, his dog running at his heels. When the corpse perceived 
 him, it came to meet him ; not touching the earth with its feet, but 
 keeping about a foot above it the shroud fluttering after it. When 
 it had come up with the sportsman, it made a rush at him ; but the 
 dog seized hold of it by its bare calves, and began a tussle with it. 
 When the moujik saw his dog and the corpse grappling with each 
 other, he was delighted that things had turned out so well for him- 
 self, and he set off running home with all his might. The dog 
 kept up the struggle until cock-crow, when the corpse fell motion- 
 less to the ground. Then the dog ran off in pursuit of its master, 
 caught him up just as he reached home, and rushed at him, 
 furiously trying to bite and to rend him. So savage was it, and so 
 persistent, that it was as much as the people of the house could do 
 to beat it off. 
 
 ' Whatever has come over the dog ? ' asked the moujik's old 
 mother. ' Why should it hate its master so ? ' 
 
 The moujik told her all that had happened. 
 
 ' A bad piece of work, my son ! ' said the old woman. ' The 
 dog was disgusted at your not helping it. There it was fighting. 
 
 1 Afanasief, vi. pp. 321-2. 
 
314 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 with the corpse and you deserted it, and thought only of saving 
 yourself ! Now it will owe you a grudge for ever so long.' 
 
 Next morning, while the family were going about the farmyard, 
 the dog was perfectly quiet. But the moment its master made 
 his appearance, it began to growl like anything. 
 
 They fastened it to a chain ; for a whole year they kept it 
 chained up. But in spite of that, it never forgot how its master 
 had offended it. One day it got loose, flew straight at him, and 
 began trying to throttle him. 
 
 So they had to kill it. 
 
 In the next story a most detailed account is given of 
 the manner in which a Vampire sets to work, and also of 
 the best means of ridding the world of it. 
 
 THE SOLDIER AND THE VAMPIRE. l 
 
 A CERTAIN soldier was allowed to go home on furlough. Well, he 
 walked and walked, and after a time he began to draw near to his 
 native village. Not far off from that village lived a miller in his 
 mill. In old times the Soldier had been very intimate with him : 
 why shouldn't he go and see his friend ? ^ He went. The Miller 
 received him cordially, and at once brought out liquor ; and the 
 iwo began drinking, and chattering about their ways and doings. 
 All this took place towards nightfall, and the Soldier stopped so 
 long at the Miller's that it grew quite dark. 
 
 When he proposed to start for his village, his host exclaimed : 
 
 4 Spend the night here, trooper ! It's very late now, and perhaps 
 you might run into mischief.' 
 
 'How so?' 
 
 ' God is punishing us ! A terrible warlock has died among us, 
 and by night he rises from his grave, wanders through the village, 
 and does such things as bring fear upon the very boldest ! How 
 could even you help being afraid of him ? ' 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. pp. 144-7. From the Tambof Government. 
 
GHOST STORIES 315 
 
 ' Not a bit of it ! A soldier is a man who belongs to the 
 crown, and "crown property cannot be drowned in water nor 
 burnt in fire." I'll be off: I'm tremendously anxious to see my 
 people as soon as possible.' 
 
 Off he set. His road lay in front of a graveyard. On one of 
 the graves he saw a great fire blazing. ' What's that ? ' thinks he. 
 * Let's have a look. 3 When he drew near, he saw that the Warlock 
 was sitting by the fire, sewing boots. 
 
 ' Hail, brother ! ' calls out the Soldier. 
 
 The Warlock looked up and said : 
 
 ' What have you come here for ? ' 
 
 ' Why, I wanted to see what you're doing.' 
 
 The Warlock threw his work aside and invited the Soldier to a 
 wedding. 
 
 1 Come along, brother,' says he, ' let's enjoy ourselves. There's 
 a wedding going on in the village.' 
 
 ' Come along ! ' says the Soldier. 
 
 They came to where the wedding was j there they were given 
 drink, and treated with the utmost hospitality. The Warlock 
 drank and drank, revelled and revelled, and then grew angry. 
 He chased all the guests and relatives out of the house, threw 
 the wedded pair into a slumber, took out two phials and an 
 awl, pierced the hands of the bride and bridegroom with the awl, 
 and began drawing off their blood. Having done this, he said to 
 the Soldier : 
 
 ' Now let's be off.' 
 
 Well, they went off. On the way the Soldier said : 
 
 ' Tell me ; why did you draw off their blood in those phials ? ' 
 
 ' Why, in order that the bride and bridegroom might die. To- 
 morrow morning no one will be able to wake them. I alone know 
 how to bring them back to life.' 
 
 ' How's that managed ? ' 
 
 'The bride and bridegroom must have cuts made in their 
 heels, and some of their own blood must then be poured back 
 
3i6 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 into those wounds. I've got the bridegroom's blood stowed away 
 in my right-hand pocket, and the bride's in my left.' 
 
 The Soldier listened to this without letting a single word 
 escape him. Then the Warlock began boasting again. 
 
 ' Whatever I wish,' says he, ' that I can do ! ' 
 
 * I suppose it's quite impossible to get the better of you ? ' 
 says the Soldier. 
 
 ' Why impossible ? If any one were to make a pyre of aspen 
 boughs, a hundred loads of them, and were to burn me on that 
 pyre, then he'd be able to get the better of me-. Only he'd have 
 to look out sharp in burning me ; for snakes and worms and 
 different kinds of reptiles would creep out of my inside, and 
 crows and magpies and jackdaws would come flying up. All 
 these must be caught and flung on the pyre. If so much as a 
 single maggot were to escape, then there'd be no help for it ; in 
 that maggot I should slip away ! ' 
 
 The Soldier listened to all this and did not forget it. He and 
 the Warlock talked and talked, and at last they arrived at the 
 grave. 
 
 * Well, brother,' said the Warlock, 4 now I'll tear you to pieces. 
 Otherwise you'd be telling all this.' 
 
 * What are you talking about ? Don't you deceive yourself ; 
 I serve God and the Emperor.' 
 
 The Warlock gnashed his teeth, howled aloud, and sprang at 
 the Soldier who drew his sword and began laying about him with 
 sweeping blows. They struggled and struggled ; the Soldier was 
 all but at the end of his strength. ' Ah ! ' thinks he, ' I'm a lost 
 man and all for nothing ! ' Suddenly the cocks began to crow. 
 The Warlock fell lifeless to the ground. 
 
 The Soldier took the phials of blood out of the Warlock's 
 pockets, and went on to the house of his own people. When he 
 had got there, and had exchanged greetings with his relatives, 
 they said : 
 
 * Did you see any disturbance, Soldier ? ' 
 
 * No, I saw none.' 
 
GHOST STORIES 317 
 
 * There now ! Why we've a terrible piece of work going on 
 in the village. A Warlock has taken to haunting it ! ' 
 
 After talking awhile, they lay down to sleep. Next morning 
 the Soldier awoke, and began asking : 
 
 * I'm told you've got a wedding going on somewhere here?' 
 
 1 There was a wedding in the house of a rich moujik,' replied 
 his relatives, ' but the bride and bridegroom have died this very 
 night what from, nobody knows.' 
 
 'Where does this moujik live?' 
 
 They showed him the house. Thither he went without speak- 
 ing a word. When he got there, he found the whole family in 
 tears. 
 
 1 What are you mourning about ? ' says he. 
 
 ' Such and such is the state of things, Soldier,' say they. 
 
 ( I can bring your" young people to life again. What will you 
 give me if I do ? ' 
 
 * Take what you like, even were it half of what we've got ! ' 
 The Soldier did as the Warlock had instructed him, and 
 
 brought the young people back to life. Instead of weeping there 
 began to be happiness and rejoicing ; the Soldier was hospitably 
 treated and well rewarded. Then left about, face ! off he 
 marched to the Starosta, and told him to call the peasants 
 together and to get ready a hundred loads of aspen wood. Well, 
 they took the wood into the graveyard, dragged the Warlock out 
 of his grave, placed him on the pyre, and set it alight the people 
 all standing round in a circle with brooms, shovels, and fire-irons. 
 The pyre became wrapped in flames, the Warlock began to burn. 
 His corpse burst, and out of it crept snakes, worms, and all sorts 
 of reptiles, and up came flying crows, magpies, and jackdaws. 
 The peasants knocked them down and flung them into the fire, 
 not allowing so much as a single maggot to creep away ! And so 
 the Warlock was thoroughly consumed, and the Soldier collected 
 his ashes and strewed them to the winds. From that time forth 
 there was peace in the village. 
 
 The Soldier received the thanks of the whole community. 
 
3 i8 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 He stayed at home some time, enjoying himself thoroughly. 
 Then he went back to the Tsar's service with money in his 
 pocket. When he had served his time, he retired from the army, 
 and began to live at his ease. 
 
 The stories of this class are very numerous, all of them 
 based on the same belief that in certain cases the dead, in 
 a material shape, leave their graves in order to destroy and 
 prey upon the living. This belief is not peculiar to the 
 Slavonians, but it is one of the characteristic features of 
 their spiritual creed. Among races which burn their dead, 
 remarks Hertz in his exhaustive treatise on the Werwolf 
 (p. 126), little is known of regular * corpse-spectres.' Only 
 vague apparitions, dream-like phantoms, are supposed, as a 
 general rule, to issue from graves in which nothing more 
 substantial than ashes has been laid. 1 But where it is cus- 
 tomary to lay the dead body in the ground, * a peculiar 
 half-life ' becomes attributed to it by popular fancy, and 
 by some races it is supposed to be actuated at intervals by 
 murderous impulses. In the East these are generally attri- 
 buted to the fact of its being possessed by an evil spirit, but 
 in some parts of Europe no such explanation of its conduct 
 is given, though it may often be implied. ' The belief in 
 vampires is the specific Slavonian form of the universal 
 belief in spectres (Gespenster)! says Hertz, and certainly 
 
 1 On this account Hanush believes that the Old Slavonians, as burners of 
 their dead, must have borrowed the vampire belief from some other race. See 
 the ' Zeitschrift fiir deutsche Mythologie,' c., vol. iv. p. 199. But it is not 
 certain that burial by cremation was universally practised by the heathen 
 Slavonians. Kotlyarevsky, in his excellent work on their funeral customs, 
 arrives at the conclusion that there never was any general rule on the subject, 
 but that some Slavonians buried without burning, while others first burned 
 their dead, and then inhumed their ashes. See 'Songs of the Russian People,' 
 P- 325. 
 
GHOST STORIES 319 
 
 vampirism has always made those lands peculiarly its own 
 which are or have been tenanted or greatly influenced by 
 Slavonians. 
 
 But animated corpses often play an important part in 
 the traditions of other countries. Among the Scandinavians,, 
 and especially in Iceland, were they the cause of many fears, 
 though they were not supposed to be impelled by a thirst 
 for blood so much as by other carnal appetites, 1 or by a 
 kind of local malignity. 2 In Germany tales of horror 
 similar to the Icelandic are by no means unknown, but the 
 majority of them are to be found in districts which were 
 once wholly Lettic or Slavonic, though they are now 
 reckoned as Teutonic, such as East Prussia, or Pomerania, 
 or Lusatia. But it is among the races which are Slavonic 
 by tongue as well as by descent, that the genuine vampire 
 tales flourish most luxuriantly : in Russia, in Poland, and in 
 Servia among the Czekhs of Bohemia, and the Slovaks of 
 Hungary, and the numerous other subdivisions of the 
 Slavonic family which are included within the hetero- 
 geneous empire of Austria. Among the Albanians and 
 Modern Greeks they have taken firm root, but on those 
 peoples a strong Slavonic influence has been brought to 
 bear. Even Prof. Bernhard Schmidt, although an uncom- 
 promising opponent of Fallmerayer's doctrines with regard 
 to the Slavonic origin of the present inhabitants of Greece, 
 allows that the Greeks, as they borrowed from the Sla- 
 vonians a name for the Vampire, may have received from 
 
 1 See the strange stories in Maurer's ' Islandische Volkssagen, ' pp. 112, 
 and 300-1. 
 
 2 As in the case of Glam, the terrible spectre which Grettir had so much 
 difficulty in overcoming. To all who appreciate a shudder may be recom- 
 mended chap. xxxv. of 'The Story of Grettir the Strong,' translated from the 
 Icelandic by E. Magmisson and \V. Morris. 1869. 
 
320 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 them also certain views and customs with respect to it. 1 
 Beyond this he will not go, and he quotes a number of pas- 
 sages from Hellenic writers to prove that in ancient Greece 
 spectres were frequently represented as delighting in blood, 
 and sometimes as exercising a power to destroy. Nor will 
 he admit that any very great stress ought to be laid upon 
 the fact that the Vampire is generally called in Greece by a 
 name of Slavonic extraction ; for in the islands, which were, 
 he says, little if at all affected by Slavonic influences, the 
 Vampire bears a thoroughly Hellenic designation. 2 But 
 the thirst for blood attributed by Homer to his shadowy 
 ghosts seems to have been of a different nature from that 
 evinced by the material Vampire of modern days, nor does 
 that ghastly revenant seem by any means fully to correspond 
 to such ghostly destroyers as the spirit of Gello, or the 
 spectres of Medea's slaughtered children. It is not only 
 in the Vampire, however, that we find a point of close 
 contact between the popular beliefs of the New-Greeks 
 and the Slavonians. Prof. Bernhard Schmidt's excellent 
 work is full of examples which prove liow intimately they 
 are connected. 
 
 The districts of the Russian Empire in which a belief 
 in vampires mostly prevails are White Russia and the 
 
 1 The ordinary Modern-Greek word for a vampire, (3ovpK6\a.Kas, he says, 
 ' is undoubtedly of Slavonic origin, being identical with the Slavonic name of 
 the werwolf, which is called in Bohemian vlkodlak, in Bulgarian and Slovak, 
 vrkolak, &c.,' the vampire and the werwolf having many points in common. 
 Moreover, the regular name for a vampire in Servian, he remarks, is vukodlak. 
 This proves the Slavonian nature (die Slavicitcit] of the name beyond all doubt. 
 'Volksleben der Neugriechen,' 1871, p. 159. 
 
 2 In Crete and Rhodes, Karaxavas ; in Cyprus, crap/ca> / u'os ; in Tenos, 
 c.vaiKado6fjLfvos. The Turks, according to Mr. -Tozer, give the name of 
 vurkolak, and some of the Albanians, says Hahn, give that of 0oi>pj8o\a/c-ou, to 
 the restless dead. Ibid. p. 160. 
 
GHOST STORIES 321 
 
 Ukraine. But the ghastly blood-sucker, the Upir? whose 
 name has become naturalized in so many alien lands under 
 forms resembling our 'Vampire/ disturbs the peasant- 
 mind in many other parts of Russia, though not perhaps 
 with the same intense fear which it spreads among the 
 inhabitants of the above-named districts, or of some other 
 Slavonic lands. The numerous traditions which have 
 gathered around the original idea vary to some extent 
 according to their locality, but they are never radically 
 inconsistent. 
 
 Some of the details are curious. The Little-Russians 
 hold that if a vampire's hands have grown numb from 
 remaining long crossed in the grave, he makes use of his 
 teeth, which are like steel. When he has gnawed his way 
 with these through all obstacles, he first destroys the babes 
 he finds in a house, and then the older inmates. If fine salt 
 be scattered on the floor of a room, the vampire's footsteps 
 may be traced to his grave, in which he will be found rest- 
 ing with rosy cheek and gory mouth. 
 
 The Kashoubes say that when a Vieszcy y as they call the 
 Vampire, w r akes from his sleep within the grave, he begins 
 to gnaw his hands and feet ; and as he gnaws, one after 
 another, first his relations, then his other neighbours, sicken 
 and die. When he has finished his own store of flesh, he 
 rises at midnight and destroys cattle, or climbs a belfry and 
 sounds the bell. All who hear the ill-omened tones will 
 soon die. But generally he sucl^s the blood of sleepers. 
 Those on whom he has operated will be found next morn- 
 
 1 Russian vampir, South-Russian nj>uir t anciently upir ; Polish ttptor, 
 Polish and Bohemian upir. Supposed by some philologists to be from.fltt' = 
 to drink, whence the Croatian name for a vampire pijawica. See ' Songs of 
 the Russian People,' p. 410. 
 
 Y 
 
3 22 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ing dead, with a very small wound on the left side of the 
 breast, exactly over the heart The Lusatian Wends hold 
 that when a corpse chews its shroud or sucks its own breast, 
 all its kin will soon follow it to the grave. The Wallachians 
 say that a murony a sort of cross between a werwolf and a 
 vampire, connected by name with our nightmare can take 
 the form of a dog, a cat, or a toad, and also of any blood- 
 sucking insect. When he is exhumed, he is found to have 
 long nails of recent growth on his hands and feet, and blood 
 is streaming from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. 
 
 The Russian stories give a very clear account of the 
 operation performed by the vampire on his victims. 
 Thus, one night, a peasant is conducted by a stranger into 
 a house where lie two sleepers, an old man and a youth. 
 ' The stranger takes a pail, places it near the youth, and 
 strikes him on the back ; immediately the back opens, and 
 forth flows rosy blood. The stranger fills the pail full, and 
 drinks it dry. Then he fills another pail with blood from 
 the old man, slakes his brutal thirst, and says to the 
 peasant, ' It begins to grow light ! let us go back to my 
 dwelling.' l 
 
 Many skazkas also contain, as we have already seen, very 
 clear directions how to deprive a vampire of his baleful 
 power. According to them, as well as to their parallels 
 elsewhere, a stake must be driven through the murderous 
 corpse. In Russia an aspen stake is selected for that pur- 
 pose, but in some place one made of thorn is preferred. 
 But a Bohemian vampire, when staked in this manner in 
 the year 1337, says Mannhardt, 2 merely exclaimed that the 
 
 1 Aftnasief, P. V.S. iii. 558. The story is translated in full in 'Songs of 
 the Russian People,' pp. 411-12. 
 
 2 In a most valuable article on 'Vampirism ' in the Zeitschrift fiir deutsche 
 Mythologie und Sittenkunde,' Bd. iv. 1859, pp. 259-82. 
 
GHOST STORIES 323 
 
 stick would be very useful for keeping off dogs ; and a 
 strigon (or Istrian vampire) who was transfixed with a 
 sharp thorn cudgel near Laibach, in 1672, pulled it out of 
 his body and flung it back contemptuously. The only cer- 
 tain methods of destroying a vampire appear to be either 
 to consume him by fire, or to chop off his head with a grave- 
 digger's shovel. The Wends say that if a vampire is hit 
 over the back of the head with an inplement of that kind, 
 he will squeal like a pig. 
 
 The origin of the Vampire is hidden in obscurity. In 
 modern times it has generally been a wizard, or a witch, or 
 a suicide, 1 or a person who has come to a violent end, or 
 who has been cursed by the Church or by his parents, who 
 takes such an unpleasant means of recalling himself to the 
 memory of his surviving relatives and acquaintances. But 
 even the most honourable dead may become vampires by 
 accident. He whom a vampire has slain is supposed, in 
 some countries, himself to become a vampire. The leaping 
 of a cat or some other animal across a corpse, even the 
 flight of a bird above it, may turn the innocent defunct 
 into a ravenous demon. 2 Sometimes, moreover, a man is 
 
 1 How superior our intelligence is to that of Slavonian peasants is proved 
 by the fact that they still drive stakes through supposed vampires, whereas our 
 law no longer demands that a suicide shall have a stake driven through his 
 corpse. That rite was abolished by 4 Geo. iv. c. 52. 
 
 2 Compare with this belief the Scotch superstition mentioned by Pennant, 
 that if a dog or cat pass over a corpse the animal must be killed at once. As 
 illustrative of this idea, Mr. Henderson states, on the authority of ' an old 
 Northumbrian hind,' that ' in one case, just as a funeral was about to leave 
 the house, the cat jumped over the coffin, and no one would move till the 
 cat was destroyed.' In another, a colly dog jumped over a coffin which 
 a funeral party had set on the ground while they rested. ' It was felt by 
 all that the clog must be killed, without hesitation, before they proceeded 
 farther, and killed it was. ' With us the custom survives ; its explanation has 
 
 Y 2 
 
324 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 destined from his birth to be a vampire, being the offspring 
 of some unholy union. In some instances the Evil One 
 himself is the father of such a doomed victim, in others a 
 temporarily animated corpse. But whatever may be the 
 cause of a corpse's ' vampirism/ ijt is generally agreed that 
 it will give its neighbours no rest until they have at least 
 transfixed it. What is veiy remarkable about the operation 
 is, that the stake must be driven through the vampire's 
 body by a single blow. A second would restore it to life. 
 This idea accounts for the otherwise unexplained fact that 
 the heroes of folk-tales are frequently warned that they 
 must on no account be tempted into striking their magic 
 foes more than one stroke. Whatever voices may cry 
 aloud ' Strike again!' they. must remain contented with a 
 single blow. 1 
 
 been forgotten. See Henderson's * Notes on the Folk Lore of the Northern 
 Counties of England,' 1866, p. 43. 
 
 1 A great deal of information about vampires, and also about turnskins, 
 wizards and witches, will be found in Afanasief, P. V.S. iii. chap. xxvi. on 
 which I have freely drawn. The subject has been treated with his usual 
 judgment and learning by Mr. Tylor in his 'Primitive Culture,' ii. 175-6. 
 For several ghastly stories about the longing of Rakshasas and Vetalas for 
 human flesh, some of which bear a strong resemblance to Slavonic vampire 
 tales, see Brockhaus's translation of the first five books of the ' Kathasaritsagara,' 
 vol. i. p. 94; vol. ii. pp. 13, 142, 147. 
 
LEGENDS 
 
 325 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LEGENDS. 
 
 I. 
 
 About Saints. 
 
 As besides the songs or pyesni there are current among 
 the people a number of stikhi or poems on sacred subjects, 
 so together with the skazki there have been retained in 
 the popular memory a multitude of legendui y or legends 
 relating to persons or incidents mentioned in the Bible or 
 in ecclesiastical history. Many of them have been extracted 
 from the various apocryphal books which in olden times 
 had so wide a circulation, and many also from the lives of 
 the Saints ; some of them may be traced to such adapta- 
 tions of Indian legends as the 'Varlaam and Josaphat' 
 attributed to St. John of Damascus ; and others appear to 
 be ancient heathen traditions, which, with altered names and 
 slightly modified incidents, have been made to do service 
 as Christian narratives. But whatever may be their origin, 
 they all bear witness to the fact of their having been 
 exposed to various -influences, and many of them may 
 fairly be considered as relics of hoar antiquity, memorials 
 of that misty period when the pious Slavonian chronicler, 
 struck by the confusion of Christian with heathen ideas 
 
326 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 and ceremonies then prevalent, styled his countrymen a 
 two-faithed people. 1 
 
 On the popular tales of a religious character current 
 among the Russian peasantry, the duality of their creed, 
 or of that of their ancestors, has produced a twofold effect. 
 On the one hand, into narratives'drawn from purely Christian 
 sources there has entered a pagan element, most clearly 
 perceptible in stories which deal with demons and departed 
 spirits ; on the other hand, an attempt has been made to 
 give a Christian nature to what are manifestly heathen 
 legends, by lending saintly names to their characters and 
 clothing their ideas in an imitation of biblical language. 
 Of such stories as these, it will be as well to give a few 
 specimens. 
 
 Among the legends borrowed from the apocryphal 
 books and similar writings, many of which are said to be 
 still carefully preserved among the ' Schismatics,' concealed 
 in hiding-places of which the secret is handed down from 
 father to son as was once the case with the Hussite books 
 among the Bohemians there are many which relate to the 
 creation of the world and the early history of man. One 
 of these states that when the Lord had created Adam 
 and Eve, he stationed at the gates of Paradise the dog, 
 then a clean beast, giving it strict orders not to give admit- 
 tance to the Evil One. But ' the Evil One came to the 
 gates of Paradise, and threw the dog a piece of bread, and 
 the dog went and let the Evil One into Paradise. , Then 
 the Evil One set to work and spat over Adam and Eve 
 v covered them all over with spittle, from the head to the 
 little toe of the left foot' Thence is it that spittle is im- 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendui, p. 6. 
 
LEGENDS 327 
 
 pure (pogana). So Adam and Eve were turned out of 
 Paradise, and the Lord said to the dog : 
 
 ' Listen, O Dog ! thou wert a Dog (Sobaka), a clean 
 beast ; through all Paradise the most holy didst thou roam. 
 Henceforward shalt thou be a Hound (Pes, or Pyos), an 
 unclean beast. Into a dwelling it shall be a sin to admit 
 thee ; into a church if thou dost run, the church must be 
 consecrated anew.' 
 
 And so the story concludes ' ever since that time it 
 has been called not a dog but a hound skin-deep it is 
 unclean (pogana}, but clean within.' 
 
 According to another story, when men first inhabited 
 the earth, they did not know how to build houses, so as to 
 keep themselves warm in winter. But instead of asking 
 aid from the Lord, they applied to the Devil, who taught 
 them how to make an izba or ordinary Russian cottage. 
 Following his instructions, they made wooden houses, each 
 -of which had a door but no window. Inside these huts it 
 was warm ; but there was no living in them, on account of 
 the darkness. ' So the people went back to the Evil One. 
 The Evil One strove and strove, but nothing came of it, the 
 izba still remained pitch dark. Then the people prayed 
 unto the Lord. And the Lord said : " Hew out a window ! " 
 So they hewed out windows, and it became light.' l 
 
 Some of the Russian traditions about the creation of 
 
 man are closely connected with Teutonic myths. The 
 
 .Schismatics called Dukhobortsui, or Spirit- Wrestlers, for in- 
 
 ' stance, hold that man was composed of earthly materials, 
 
 1 These two stories are quoted by Buslaef, in a valuable essay on ' The 
 Russian Popular Epos.' ' 1st. Och.' i. 438. Another tradition states that the dog 
 was originally 'naked,' i.e. without hair ; but the devil, in order to seduce it 
 from its loyalty, gave it a shuba, or pelisse, i.e. a coat of hair. 
 
328 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 but that God breathed into his body the breath of life. 
 ' His flesh was made of earth, his bones of stone, his veins 
 of roots, his blood of water, his hair of grass, his thought 
 of the wind, his spirit of the cloud.' l Many of the Russian 
 stories about the early ages of the world, also, are current 
 in Western Europe, such as that about the rye which in 
 olden days was a mass of ears from top to bottom. But 
 some lazy harvest-women having cursed ' God's corn,' the 
 Lord waxed wroth and began to strip the ears from the 
 stem. But when the last ear was about to fall, the Lord had 
 pity upon the penitent culprits, and allowed the single ear 
 to remain as we now see it. 2 
 
 A Little-Russian variant of this story says that Ilya 
 (Elijah), was so angry at seeing the base uses to which a 
 woman turned ( God's corn,' that he began to destroy all 
 the corn in the world. But a dog begged for, and received 
 a few ears. From these, after Ilya's wrath was spent, 
 mankind obtained seed, and corn began to grow again on 
 the face of the earth, but not in its pristine bulk and beauty. 
 It is on account of the good service thus rendered to our 
 race that we ought to cherish and feed the dog. 3 
 
 Another story, from the Archangel Government, tells 
 how a certain King, as he roamed afield with his princes 
 and boyars, found a grain of corn as large as a sparrow's 
 egg. Marvelling greatly at its size, he tried in vain to 
 obtain from his followers some explanation thereof. Then 
 they bethought them of ' a certain man from among the 
 old people, who might be able to tell them something 
 
 1 Buslaef, ' 1st. Och.' i. 147, where the Teutonic equivalents are given. 
 3 Tereshchenko, v. 48. For a German version of the story, see the 
 No. 124, ' Die Kornahre.' 
 9 Afanasief, P. F.S. i. 482. 
 
LEGENDS 329. 
 
 about it.' But when the old man came, l scarcely able to 
 crawl along on a pair of crutches/ he said he knew nothing 
 about it, but perhaps his father might remember something. 
 So they sent for his father, who came limping along with 
 the help of one crutch, and who said : 
 
 ' I have a father living, in whose granary I have seen 
 just such a seed.' 
 
 So they sent for his father, a man a hundred and seventy 
 years old. And the patriarch came, walking nimbly, Deed- 
 ing neither guide nor crutch. Then the King began to 
 question him, saying : 
 
 ' Who sowed this sort of corn ? ' 
 
 ' I sowed it, and reaped it,' answered the old man, ' and 
 now I have some of it in my granary. I keep it as a 
 memorial. When I was young, the grain was large and 
 plentiful, but after a time it began to grow smaller and 
 smaller.' 
 
 * Now tell me,' asked the King, ' how comes it, old man,, 
 that thou goest more nimbly than thy son and thy grand- 
 son ? ' 
 
 ' Because I lived according to the law of the Lord,' 
 answered the old man. ' I held mine own, I grasped not 
 at what was another's.' l 
 
 The existence of hills is accounted for by legendary 
 lore in this wise. When the Lord was about to fashion the 
 face of the earth, he ordered the Devil to dive into the watery 
 depths and bring thence a handful of the soil he found at the 
 bottom. The Devil obeyed, but when he filled his hand,, 
 he filled his mouth also. The Lord took the soil, 
 sprinkled it around, and the Earth appeared, all perfectly^ 
 
 1 Afanasief, Lcgendui y p. 19. 
 
330 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 flat. The Devil, whose mouth was quite full, looked on 
 for some time in silence. At last he tried to speak, 
 but choked, and fled in terror. After him followed the 
 thunder and the lightning, and so he rushed over the whole 
 face of the earth, hills springing up where he coughed, and 
 sky-cleaving mountains where he leaped. 1 
 
 As in other countries, a number of legends are current 
 respecting various animals. Thus the Old Ritualists will 
 not eat the cray-fish (rak), holding that it was created 
 -by the Devil. On the other hand the snake (iizh, the 
 harmless or common snake) is highly esteemed, for tradition 
 says that when the Devil, in the form of a mouse, had 
 gnawed a hole in the Ark, and thereby endangered the safety 
 of Noah and his family, the snake stopped up the leak 
 with its head. 2 The flesh of the horse is considered unclean, 
 because when the infant Saviour was hidden in the manger 
 the horse kept eating the hay under which the babe was 
 concealed, whereas the ox not only would not touch it, 
 but brought back hay on its horns to replace what the 
 horse had eaten. According to an old Lithuanian tradition, 
 the shape of the sole is due to the fact that the Queen of 
 the Baltic Sea once ate one half of it and threw the other 
 half into the sea again. A legend from the Kherson 
 Government accounts for it as follows. At the time of 
 the Angelical Salutation, the Blessed Virgin told the 
 Archangel Gabriel that she would give credit to his words 
 * if a fish, one side of which had already been eaten, were 
 to come to life again. That very moment the fish came to 
 life, and was put back in the water.' 
 
 1 Tereschenko, v. p. 45. Some of these legends have been translated by 
 O. von. Reinsberg-Diiringsfeld in the ' Ausland,' Dec. 9, 1872. 
 
 2 According'to a Bohemian legend the Devil created the mouse, that it might 
 destroy 'God's corn,' whereupon the Lord created the cat. 
 

 LEGENDS 331 
 
 With the birds many graceful legends are connected. 
 There is a bird, probably the peewit, which during dry 
 weather may be seen always on the wing, and piteously 
 crying Peet, Peet, 1 as if begging for water. Of it the following 
 tale is told. When God created the earth, and determined 
 to supply it with seas, lakes and rivers, he ordered the 
 birds to convey the waters to their appointed places. They 
 all obeyed except this bird, which refused to fulfil its duty, 
 saying that it had no need of seas, lakes or rivers, to slake 
 its thirst. Then the Lord waxed wroth and forbade it and 
 its posterity ever to approach a sea or stream, allowing 
 it to quench its thirst with that water only which remains 
 in hollows and among stones after rain. From that time 
 it has never ceased its wailing cry of 'Drink, Drink/ 
 Peet, Pect? 
 
 When the Jews were seeking for Christ in the garden, 
 says a Kharkof legend, all the birds, except the sparrow, 
 tried to draw them away from his hiding-place. Only the 
 sparrow attracted them thither by its shrill chirruping. 
 Then the Lord cursed the sparrow, and forbade that men 
 should eat of its flesh. In other parts of Russia tradition tells 
 that before the crucifixion the swallows carried off the nails 
 provided for the use of the executioners, but the sparrows 
 brought them back. And while our Lord was hanging on 
 the cross the sparrows were maliciously exclaiming Jif ! 
 Jif ! or ' He is living! He is living!' in order to urge on 
 the tormentors to fresbf cruelties. But the swallows cried, 
 with opposite intent, Umer ! Umer ! ( He is dead ! He 
 is dead.' Therefore it is that to kill a swallow is a sin, and 
 that its nest brings good luck to a house. But the sparrow 
 
 1 Pi? = to drink. Tereschenko, v. 47. 
 
332 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 is an unwelcome guest, whose entry into a cottage is a. 
 presage of woe. As a punishment for its sins its legs have 
 been fastened together by invisible bonds, and therefore it 
 always hops, not being able to run. 1 
 
 A great number of the Russian legends refer to the 
 visits which Christ and his Apostles are supposed to pay 
 to men's houses at various times, but especially during the 
 period between Easter Sunday and Ascension Day. In 
 the guise of indigent wayfarers, the sacred visitors enter into 
 farm-houses and cottages and ask for food and lodging ; 
 therefore to this day the Russian peasant is ever unwilling' 
 to refuse hospitality to any man, fearing lest he might 
 repulse angels unawares. Tales of this kind are common 
 in all Christian lands, especially in those in which their 
 folk-lore has preserved some traces of the old faith in the 
 heathen gods who once walked the earth, and in patri- 
 archal fashion dispensed justice among men. Many of 
 the Russian stories closely resemble those of a similar 
 nature which occur in German and Scandinavian collections ; 
 all of them, for instance, agreeing in the unfavourable light 
 in which they place St. Peter. The following abridgment of 
 the legend of ' The Poor Widow/ 2 may be taken as a speci- 
 men of the Russian tales of this class. 
 
 Long, long ago, Christ and his twelve Apostles were 
 wandering about the world, and they entered into a village 
 one evening, and asked a rich moujik to allow them to spend 
 the night in his house. But he would not admit them, 
 crying : 
 
 ' Yonder lives a widow who takes in beggars ; go to her/ 
 
 So they went to the widow, and asked her. Now she 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendui, p. 13. 
 
 2 Afanasief, Legendui, No. 3. From the Voroneje Government. 
 
LEGENDS 333 
 
 was so poor that she had nothing in the house but a crust 
 of bread and a handful of flour. She had a cow, but it had 
 not calved yet, and gave no milk. But she did all she 
 could for the wayfarers, setting before them all the food 
 .she had, and letting them sleep beneath her roof. 
 And her store of bread and flour was wonderfully 
 increased, so that her guests fed and were satisfied. 
 And the next morning they set out anew on their journey. 
 
 As they went along the road there met them a wolf. 
 And it fell down before the Lord, and begged for food. 
 Then said the Lord, ' Go to the poor widow's ; slay her cow, 
 and eat.' 
 
 The Apostles remonstrated in vain. The wolf set off, 
 entered the widow's cow-house, and killed her cow.. And 
 when she heard what had taken place, she only said : 
 
 ' The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away. Holy is 
 His will!' 
 
 As the sacred wayfarers pursued their journey, there 
 came rolling towards them a barrel full of money. Then 
 the Lord addressed it, saying : 
 
 ' Roll, O barrel, into the farmyard of the rich moujik ! ' 
 
 Again the Apostles vainly remonstrated. The barrel 
 went its way, and the rich moujik found it, and stowed it 
 away, grumbling the while : 
 
 1 The Lord might as well have sent twice as much ! ' 
 
 The sun rose higher, and the Apostles began to thirst. 
 Then said the Lord : 
 
 1 Follow that road, and ye will find a well ; there drink 
 your fill.' 
 
 They went along that road and found the well. But 
 they could not drink thereat, for its water was foul and im- 
 pure, and swarming with snakes and frogs and toads. So 
 
334 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 they returned to where the Lord awaited them, described 
 what they had seen, and resumed their journey. After a 
 time they were sent in search of another well. And this 
 time they found a place wherein was water pure and cool, 
 and around grew wondrous trees, whereon heavenly birds 
 sat singing. And when they had slaked their thirst, they 
 returned unto the Lord, who said : 
 
 ' Wherefore did ye tarry so long ? ' 
 
 ' We only stayed while we were drinking,' replied the 
 Apostles. ' We did not spend above three minutes there 
 in all.' 
 
 'Not three minutes did ye spend there, but three 
 whole years/ replied the Lord. ' As it was in the first 
 well, so will it be in the other world with the rich 
 moujik ! But as it was in the second well, so will it be in 
 that world with the poor widow ! ' 
 
 Sometimes our Lord is supposed to wander by himself, 
 under the guise of a beggar. In the story of ' Christ's 
 Brother ' 1 a young man whose father, on his deathbed, had 
 charged him not to forget the poor r goes to church on 
 Easter Day, having provided himself with red eggs to give 
 to the beggars with whom he should exchange the Pascal 
 greeting. After exhausting his stock of presents, he finds 
 that there remains one beggar of miserable appearance to 
 whom he has nothing to offer, so he takes him home to 
 dinner. After the meal the beggar exchanges crosses with 
 his host, 2 giving him ' a cross which blazes like fire,' and 
 invites him to pay him a visit on the following Tuesday. 
 To an enquiry about the way, he replies, 'You have only to 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendui, No. 8. 
 
 2 Who thus becomes his 'brother of the cross.' This cross -brothership is 
 considered a close spiritual affinity. 
 
LEGENDS 335 
 
 go along yonder path and say, " Grant thy blessing, O 
 Lord !" and you will come to where I am.' 
 
 The young man does as he is told, and commences his- 
 journey on the Tuesday. On his way he hears voices, as 
 though of children, crying ' O Christ's brother, ask Christ 
 for us have we to suffer long ? ' A little later he sees a 
 group of girls who are ladling water from one well into 
 another, who make the same request. At last he arrives 
 at the end of his journey, finds the aged mendicant who 
 had adopted him as his brother, and recognises him as ' the 
 Lord Jesus Christ Himself.' The youth relates what he 
 has seen, and asks : 
 
 1 Wherefore, O Lord, are the children suffering ? ' 
 ' Their mothers cursed them while still unborn,' is the 
 reply. * Therefore is it impossible for them to enter into' 
 Paradise.' 
 
 1 And the girls ? ' 
 
 ' They used to sell milk, and they put water into the 
 milk. Now they are doomed to pour water from well to 
 well eternally.' 
 
 After this the youth is taken into Paradise, and brought 
 to the place there provided for him. 1 
 
 Sometimes the sacred visitor rewards with temporal goods 
 the kindly host who has hospitably received him. Thus the 
 story of ' Beer and Corn ' 2 tells how a certain man was so 
 poor that when the rest of the peasants were brewing beer, 
 and making other preparations to celebrate an approaching 
 feast of the Church, he found his cupboard perfectly bare. 
 
 1 Afanasief, in his notes to this story, gives several of its variants. The 
 rewards and punishments awarded in a future life form the theme of a great- 
 number of moral parables, apparently of Oriental extraction. For an interest- 
 ing parallel from the Neilgherry Hills, see Cover's 'Folk-Songs of Southern 
 India,' pp. 81-7. 
 
 2 Afanasief, Legendui, No. 7. 
 
336 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 In vain did he apply to a rich neighbour, who was in the 
 habit of lending goods and money at usurious rates ; having 
 no security to offer, he could borrow nothing. But on the 
 eve of the festival, when he was sitting at home in sadness, 
 he suddenly rose and drew near to the sacred painting 
 which hung in the corner, and sighed heavily, and said, 
 
 4 O Lord ! forgive me, sinner that I am ! I have not even 
 wherewith to buy oil, so as to light the lamp before the 
 image l for the festival ! ' 
 
 Soon afterwards an old man entered the cottage, and 
 obtained leave to spend the night there. After a time the 
 guest enquired why his host was so sad, and on learning the 
 reason, told him to go again to his rich neighbour and borrow 
 a quarter of malt. The moujik obeyed, and soon returned 
 with the malt, which the old man ordered him to throw into 
 his well. When this was done the villager and his guest 
 went to bed. 
 
 Next morning the old man told his host to borrow a 
 number of tubs, and fill them with liquor drawn from the 
 well, and then to make his neighbours* assemble and drink 
 it. He did so, and the buckets were filled with ' such beer 
 as neither fancy nor imagination can conceive, but only 
 a skazka can describe.' The villagers, excited by the 
 news, collected in crowds, and drank the beer and rejoiced. 
 Last of all came the rich neighbour, begging to know how 
 such wonderful beer was brewed. The moujik told him 
 the whole story, whereupon he straightway commanded 
 his servants to pour all his best malt into his well. And 
 next day he hastened to the well to taste the liquor it 
 contained ; but he found nothing but malt and water ; not 
 a drop of beer was there. 
 
 1 The icona, sutdbv, or holy picture. 
 
LEGENDS 337 
 
 We may take next the legends current among the 
 peasantry about various saints. Of these, the story of 
 ' The Prophet Elijah and St. Nicholas ' will serve as a good 
 specimen. But, in order to render it intelligible, a few 
 words about ' Ilya the Prophet,' as Elijah is styled in 
 Russia, may as well be prefixed. 
 
 It is well known that in the days of heathenism 
 the Slavonians worshipped a thunder-god, Perun, 1 who 
 occupied in their mythological system the place which in 
 the Teutonic was assigned to a Donar or a Thor. He was 
 believed, if traditions may be relied upon, to sway the 
 elements, often driving across the sky in a flaming car, 
 and launching the shafts of the lightning at his demon foes. 
 His name is still preserved by the western and southern 
 Slavonians in many local phrases, especially in impreca- 
 tions ; but, with the introduction of Christianity into 
 Slavonic lands, all this worship of his divinity came to an 
 end. Then took place, as had occurred before in other 
 countries, the merging of numerous portions of the old 
 faith in the new, the transferring of many of the attributes of 
 the old gods to the sacred personages of the new religion. 2 
 During this period of transition the ideas which were 
 formerly associated with the person of Perun, the thunder- 
 god, became attached to that of the Prophet Ilya or Elijah. 
 One of the causes which conduced to this result may 
 have been if Perun really was considered in old times, as 
 
 1 For some account of Perun the Lithuanian Perkunas whose name 
 and attributes appear to be closely connected with those of the Indian Par- 
 janya, see the 'Songs of the Russian Nation,' pp. 86-102. 
 
 2 A Servian song, for instance, quoted by Buslaef (' 1st. Och.' i. 361) states 
 that 'The Thunder ' (i.e. the Thunder-God or Perun) 'began to divide gifts. To 
 God (Bogu] it gave the heavenly heights; to St. Peter the summer' (Petrwskie 
 so called after the Saint) ' heats; to St. John, the ice and snow ; to Nicholas, 
 power over the waters, and to Ilya the lightning and the thunderbolt. ' 
 
 Z 
 
338 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 he is said to have been, the Lord of the Harvest that the 
 day consecrated by the Church to Elijah, July 20, occurs 
 in the beginning of the harvest season, and therefore the 
 peasants naturally connected their new saint with their old 
 deity. But with more certainty may it be accepted that 
 the leading cause was the similarity which appeared to 
 the recent converts to prevail between their dethroned 
 thunder-god and the prophet who was connected with 
 drought and with rain, whose enemies were consumed by 
 fire from on high, and on whom waited * a chariot of fire 
 and horses of fire/ when he was caught up by a whirlwind 
 into heaven. And so at the present day, according to 
 Russian tradition, the Prophet Ilya thunders across the 
 sky in a flaming car, and smites the clouds with the darts 
 of the lightning. In the Vladimir Government he is said 
 ' to destroy devils with stone arrows,' weapons corres- 
 ponding to the hammer of Thor and the lance of Indra. 
 On his day the peasants everywhere expect thunder and 
 rain, and in some places they set out rye and oats on 
 their gates, and ask their clergy to laud "the name of Ilya, 
 that he may bless their cornfields with plenteousness. 
 There are districts, also, in which the people go to church 
 in a body on Ilya's day, and after the service is over 
 they kill and roast a beast which has been purchased at 
 the expense of the community. Its flesh is cut up into 
 small pieces and sold, the money paid for it going to the 
 church. To stay away from this ceremony, or not to pur- 
 chase a piece of the meat, would be considered a great 
 sin ; to mow or make hay on that day would be to incur 
 a terrible risk, for Ilya might smite the field with the 
 thunder, or burn up the crop with the lightning. In the 
 old Novgorod there used to be two churches, the one 
 
LEGENDS 339 
 
 dedicated to ' Ilya the Wet,' the other to ' Ilya the Dry.' 
 To these a cross-bearing procession was made when a 
 change in the weather was desired : to the former in times 
 of drought, to the latter when injury was being done to the 
 crops by rain. Diseases being considered to be evil spirits, 
 invalids used to pray to the thunder-god for relief. And 
 so, at the present day, a zagovor or spell against the Sibe- 
 rian cattle-plague e'ntreats the ' Holy Prophet of God Ilya, 1 
 to send ' thirty angels in golden array, with bows and with 
 arrows' to destroy it. The Servians say that at the 
 division of the world Ilya received the thunder and light- 
 ning as his share, and that the crash and blaze of the 
 storm are signs of his contest with the devil. Wherefore 
 the faithful ought not to cross themselves when the 
 thunder peals, lest the evil one should take refuge from the 
 heavenly weapons behind the protecting cross. The Bulga- 
 rians say that forked lightning is the lance of Ilya who 
 is chasing the Lamia fiend : summer lightning is due to 
 the sheen of that lance, or to the fire issuing from the 
 nostrils of his celestial steeds. The white clouds of 
 summer are named by them his heavenly sheep, and they 
 say that he compels the spirits of dead Gypsies to form 
 pellets of snow by men styled hail with which he 
 scourges in summer the fields of sinners. 1 
 
 Such are a few of the ideas connected by Slavonian 
 tradition with the person of the Prophet Elijah or Ilya. 
 To St. Nicholas, who has succeeded to the place occupied 
 by an ancient ruler of the waters, a milder character is 
 attributed than to Ilya, the thunder-god's successor. As 
 Ilya is the counterpart of Thor, so does Nicholas in some 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legencttii, pp. 137-40, P.V.S., i. 469-83. Cf. Grimm's 
 ' Deutsche Mythologie,' pp. 157-59. 
 
 Z 2 
 
340 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 respects resemble Odin. The special characteristics of the 
 Saint and the Prophet are fairly contrasted in the following 
 .story. 
 
 ELIJAH THE PROPHET AND NICHOLAS. l 
 
 A LONG while ago there lived a Moujik. Nicholas's day he always 
 kept holy , but Elijah's not a bit ; he would even work upon it. 
 In honour of St. Nicholas he would have a taper lighted and a 
 service performed, but about Elijah the Prophet he forgot so much 
 as to think. 
 
 Well, it happened one day that Elijah and Nicholas were walk- 
 ing over the land belonging to this Moujik ; and as they walked 
 they looked in the cornfields the green blades were growing up 
 so splendidly that it did one's heart good to look at them. 
 
 ' Here'll be a good harvest, a right good harvest ! ' says 
 Nicholas, 'and the Moujik, too, is a good fellow sure enough, 
 both honest and pious : one who remembers God and thinks 
 about the Saints ! It will fall into good hands ' 
 
 ' We'll see by-and-by whether much will fall to his share ! ' 
 .answered Elijah ; ' when I've burnt up all his land with lightning, 
 and beaten it all flat with hail, then this Moujik of yours will know 
 what's right, and will learn to keep Elijah's day holy.' 
 
 Well, they wrangled and wrangled ; then they parted asunder. 
 St. Nicholas went off straight to the Moujik and said : 
 
 'Sell all your corn at once, just as it stands, to the Priest of 
 Elijah. 2 If you don't; nothing will be left of it : it will all be 
 'beaten flat by hail.' 
 
 Off rushed the Moujik to the Priest. 
 
 ' Won't your Reverence buy some standing corn ? I'll sell my 
 whole crop. I'm in such pressing need of money just now. It's a 
 case of pay up with me ! Buy it, Father ! I'll sell it cheap/ 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendni, No. 10. From the Yaroslaf Government. 
 
 2 irinskomy bafkye to the Elijah father. 
 
LEGENDS 341 
 
 . They bargained and bargained, and came to an agreement 
 The Moujik got his money and went home. 
 
 Some little time passed by. There gathered together, there 
 came rolling up, a storm-cloud ; with a terrible raining and hailing" 
 did it empty itself over the Moujik's cornfields, cutting down all 
 the crop as if with a knife not even a single blade did it leave 
 standing. 
 
 Next day Elijah and Nicholas walked past. Says Elijah : 
 
 1 Only see how I've devastated the Moujik's cornfield ! ' 
 
 * The Moujik's ! No, brother ! Devastated it you have 
 splendidly, only that field belongs to the Elijah Priest^ not to the 
 Moujik/ 
 
 ' To the Priest ! How's that ? ' 
 
 ' Why, this way. The Moujik sold it last week to the Elijah 
 Priest, and got all the money for it. And so, methinks, the Priest 
 may whistle for his money ! ' 
 
 < Stop a bit ! ' said Elijah. < I'll set the field all right again. It 
 shall be twice as good as it was before.' 
 
 They finished talking, and went each his own way. St. Nicholas 
 returned to the Moujik, and said : 
 
 1 Go to the Priest and buy back your crop you won't lose any- 
 thing by it.' 
 
 The Moujik went to the Priest, made his bow, and said : 
 
 ' I see, your Reverence, God has sent you a misfortune the 
 hail has beaten the whole field so flat you might roll a ball over 
 it. Since things are so, let's go halves in the loss. I'll take 
 my field back, and here's half of your money for you to relieve your 
 distress.' 
 
 The Priest was rejoiced, and they immediately struck hands on 
 the bargain. 
 
 Meanwhile goodness knows how the Moujik's ground began 
 to get all right. From the old roots shot forth new tender stems. 
 Rain-clouds came sailing exactly over the cornfield and gave the 
 soil to drink. There sprang up a marvellous crop tall and thick. 
 As to weeds, there positively was not one to be seen. And the 
 
342 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ears grew fuller and fuller, till they were fairly bent right down to 
 the ground. 
 
 Then the dear sun glowed, and the rye grew ripe like 
 so much gold did it stand in the fields. Many a sheaf did the 
 Moujik gather, many a heap of sheaves did he set up : and now 
 he was beginning to carry the crop, and to gather it together into 
 ricks. 
 
 At that very time Elijah and Nicholas came walking by 
 again. Joyfully did the Prophet gaze on all the land, and 
 say : 
 
 1 Only look, Nicholas ! what a blessing ! Why, I have re- 
 warded the Priest in such wise, that he will never forget it all his 
 life. 3 
 
 ' The Priest ? No, brother ! the blessing indeed is great, but 
 this land, you see, belongs to the Moujik. The Priest hasn't got 
 anything whatsoever to do with it/ 
 
 * What are you talking about ? ; 
 
 ' It's perfectly true. When the hail beat all the cornfield flat, 
 the Moujik went to the Elijah Priest and bought it back again at 
 half price.' 
 
 1 Stop a bit ! ' says Elijah. ' I'll take the profit out of the corn. 
 However many sheaves the Moujik may lay on the threshing- 
 floor, he shall never thresh out of them more than a peck 1 at a 
 time.' 
 
 4 A bad piece of work ! ' thinks St. Nicholas. Off he went at 
 once to the Moujik. 
 
 * Mind,' says he, ' when you begin threshing your corn, never 
 put more than one sheaf at a time on the threshing-floor.' 
 
 The Moujik began to thresh : from every sheaf he got a peck 
 of grain. All his bins, all his storehouses, he crammed with rye ; 
 but still much remained over. So he built himself new barns, and 
 filled them as full as they could hold. 
 
 Well, one day Elijah and Nicholas came walking past his 
 
 1 Strictly speaking, z.chetvenk 5775 gallons. 
 
LEGENDS 343 
 
 homestead, and the Prophet began looking here and there, and 
 said : 
 
 ' Do you see what barns he's built ? has he got anything to put 
 into them ? ' 
 
 ' They're quite full already/ answers Nicholas. 
 
 * Why, wherever did the Moujik get such a lot of grain?' 
 'Bless me ! Why, every one of his sheaves gave him a peck 
 
 of grain. When he began to thresh he never put more than one 
 
 sheaf at a time on the threshing-floor.' 
 
 1 Ah, brother Nicholas ! ' said Elijah, guessing the truth, ' it's 
 
 you who go and tell the Moujik everything ! ' 
 
 1 What an idea ! that I should go and tell ' 
 
 1 As you please ; that's your doing ! But that Moujik shan't 
 
 forget me in a hurry ! ' 
 
 1 Why, what are you going to do to him ? ' 
 
 'What I shall do, that I won't tell you,' replies Elijah. 
 
 ' There's a great danger coming,' thinks St. Nicholas, and he 
 
 goes to the Moujik again, and says : 
 
 * Buy two tapers, a big one and a little one, and do thus and 
 thus with them.' 
 
 Well, next day the Prophet Elijah and St. Nicholas were walk- 
 ing along together in the guise of wayfarers, and they met the 
 Moujik, who was carrying two wax tapers one, a big rouble one, 
 and the other, a tiny copeck one. 
 
 ' Where are you going, Moujik ? ' asks St. Nicholas. 
 
 4 Well, I'm going to offer a rouble taper to Prophet Elijah ; 
 he's been ever so good to me ! When my crops were ruined by 
 the hail, he bestirred himself like anything, and gave me a plentiful 
 harvest, twice as good as the other would have been.' 
 
 'And the copeck taper, what's that for?' 
 
 * Why, that's for Nicholas ! ' said the peasant and passed on. 
 
 ' There now, Elijah ! ' says Nicholas, ' you say I go and tell 
 everything to the Moujik surely you can see for yourself how 
 much truth there is in that ! ' 
 
 Thereupon the matter ended. Elijah was appeased and didn't 
 
344 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 threaten to hurt the Moujik any more. And the Moujik led a 
 prosperous life, and from that time forward he held in equal 
 honour Elijah's Day and Nicholas's Day. 
 
 It is not always to the Prophet Ilya that the power once 
 attributed to Perun is now ascribed. The pagan wielder 
 of the thunderbolt is represented in modern traditions by~ 
 more than one Christian saint. Sometimes, as St. George,, 
 he transfixes monsters with his lance ; sometimes, as St. 
 Andrew, he smites with his mace a spot given over to- 
 witchcraft. There was a village (says one of the legends 
 of the Chernigof Government) in which lived more than a 
 thousand witches, and they used to steal the holy stars, 
 until at last 'there was not one left to light our sinful 
 world.' Then God sent the holy Andrew, who struck 
 with his mace and all that village was swallowed up by 
 the earth, and the place thereof became a swamp. 1 
 
 About St. George many stories are told, and still more 
 ballads (if we may be allowed to call them so) are sung. 
 Under the names of Georgy, Yury, and Yegory the Brave, he 
 is celebrated as a patron as well of wolves as of flocks and" 
 herds, as a Christian Confessor struggling and suffering for 
 the faith amid pagan foes, and as a chivalrous destroyer of 
 snakes and dragons. The discrepancies which exist between 
 the various representations given of his character and his 
 functions are very glaring, but they may be explained by 
 the fact that a number of legendary ideas sprung from 
 separate sources have become associated with his name ; 
 so that in one story his actions are in keeping with the cha- 
 racter of an old Slavonian deity, in another, with that of a. 
 Christian or a Buddhist saint 
 
 1 Afanasief, P.V.S., iii. 455. 
 
LEGENDS 345; 
 
 In some parts of Russia, when the cattle go out for the 
 first time to the spring pastures, a pie, made in the form of 
 a sheep, is cut up by the chief herdsman, and the fragments 
 are preserved as a remedy against the diseases to which 
 sheep are liable. On St. George's Day in spring, April 23, 
 the fields are sanctified by a church service, at the end of 
 which they are sprinkled with holy water. In the Tula 
 Government a similar service is held over the wells. On 
 the same day, in some parts of Russia, a youth (who is- 
 called by the Slovenes the Green Yegory) is dressed like 
 our own ' Jack in the Green/ with foliage and flowers. 
 Holding a lighted torch in one hand and a pie in the other, 
 he goes out to the cornfields, followed by girls singing ap- 
 propriate songs. A circle of brushwood is then lighted, in. 
 the centre of which is set the pie. All who take part in 
 the ceremony then sit down around the fire, and eventually 
 the pie is divided among them. 
 
 Numerous legends speak of the strange connection which 
 exists between St. George and the Wolf. In Little Russia 
 that animal is called ' St. George's Dog,' and the carcases of 
 sheep which wolves have killed are not used for human 
 food, it being held that they have been assigned by divine 
 command to the beasts of the field. The human victim 
 whom St. George has doomed to be thus destroyed nothing 
 can save. A man, to whom such a fate had been allotted,, 
 tried to escape from his assailants by hiding behind a stove ; 
 but a wolf transformed itself into a cat, and at midnight,, 
 when all was still, it stole into the house and seized the 
 appointed prey. A hunter, who had been similarly doomed, 
 went on killing wolves for some time, and hanging up their 
 skins ; but when the fatal hour arrived, one of the skins 
 became a wolf, and slew him by whom it had before been'. 
 
346 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 .slain. In Little Russia the wolves have their own herds- 
 man * a being like unto a man, who is often seen in 
 company with St. George. There were two brothers (says 
 a popular tale), the one rich, the other poor. The poor 
 brother had climbed up a tree one night, and suddenly he 
 .saw beneath him what seemed to be two men the one 
 driving a pack of wolves, the other attending to the con- 
 veyance of a quantity of bread. These two beings were 
 St. George and the Lisun. And St. George distributed the 
 bread among the wolves, and one loaf which remained over 
 he gave to the poor brother ; who afterwards found that it 
 was of a miraculous nature, always renewing itself and so 
 supplying its owner with an inexhaustible store of bread. 
 The rich brother, hearing the story, climbed up the tree one 
 night in hopes of obtaining a similar present. But that 
 night St. George found that he had no bread to give to one 
 of his wolves, so he gave it the rich brother instead. 2 
 
 One of the legends attributes strange forgetfulness on 
 one occasion to St. George. A certain Gypsy who had a 
 wife and seven children, and nothing to feed them with, was 
 standing by a roadside lost in reflection, when Yegory the 
 Brave came riding by. Hearing that the saint was on his 
 way to heaven, the Gypsy besought him to ask of God how 
 he was to support his family. St. George promised to do 
 so, but forgot. Again the Gypsy saw him riding past, and 
 again the saint promised and forgot. In a third interview 
 the Gypsy asked him to leave behind his golden stirrup as 
 a pledge. 
 
 A third time St. George leaves the presence of the Lord 
 
 1 Called Lisun, Lisavik, Polisun, c. He answers to the Lytshy or wood- 
 -demon (lyes a forest) mentioned above, p. 206. 
 
 2 Afanasief, P.V.S. i. 711. 
 
LEGENDS 347 
 
 without remembering the commission with which he has 
 been entrusted. But when he is about to mount his charger 
 the sight of the solitary stirrup recalls it to his mind. So 
 he returns and states the Gypsy's request, and obtains 
 the reply that ' the Gypsy's business is to cheat and to 
 swear falsely.' As soon as the Gypsy is told this, he thanks 
 the Saint and goes off home. 
 
 1 Where are you going ? ' cries Yegory. ( Give me back 
 my golden stirrup.' 
 
 ' What stirrup ? ' asks the Gypsy. 
 
 1 W T hy, the one you took from me. 
 
 1 When did I take one from you ? I see you now for 
 the first time in my life, and never a stirrup did I ever 
 take, so help me Heaven ! ' 
 
 So Yegory had to go away without getting his stirrup 
 back. 1 
 
 There is an interesting Bulgarian legend in which St. 
 George appears in his Christian capacity of dragon-slayer, 
 but surrounded by personages belonging to heathen my- 
 thology. The inhabitants of the pagan city of Troyan, it 
 states, ' did not believe in Christ, but in gold and silver/ 
 Now there were seventy conduits in that city which sup- 
 plied it with spring-water ; and the Lord made these con- 
 duits run with liquid gold and silver instead of water, so 
 that all the people had as much as they pleased of the 
 metals they worshipped, but they had nothing to drink. 
 
 After a time the Lord took pity upon them, and there 
 appeared at a little distance from the city a deep lake. 
 To this they used to go for water. Only the lake was 
 guarded by a terrible monster, which daily devoured a 
 maiden, whom the inhabitants of Troyan were obliged to 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendui, No. 12. 
 
348 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 give to it in return for leave to make use of the lake. 
 This went on for three years, at the end of which time it 
 fell to the lot of the king's daughter to be sacrificed by the 
 monster. But when the Troyan Andromeda was exposed 
 on the shore of the lake, a Perseus arrived to save her in 
 the form of St. George. While waiting for the monster to 
 appear, the saint laid his head on her knees, and she dressed 
 his locks. Then he fell into so deep a slumber that the 
 monster drew nigh without awaking him. But the 
 Princess began to weep bitterly, and her scalding tears fell 
 on the face of St. George and awoke him, and he slew the 
 monster, and afterwards converted all the inhabitants of 
 Troyan to Christianity. 1 
 
 St. Nicholas generally maintains in the legends the 
 kindly character attributed to him in the story in which he 
 and the Prophet Ilya are introduced together. It is to him 
 that at the present day the anxious peasant turns most 
 readily for help, and it is he whom the legends represent as 
 being the most prompt of all the heavenly host to assist 
 the unfortunate among mankind. ^Thus in one of the 
 stories a peasant is driving along a heavy road one autumn 
 day, when his cart sticks fast in the mire. Just then St. 
 Kasian comes by. 
 
 ' Help me, brother, to get my cart out of the mud ! ' says 
 the peasant. 
 
 ' Get along with you ! ' replies St. Kasian. ' Do you 
 suppose I've got leisure to be dawdling here with you ! ' 
 
 Presently St. Nicholas comes that way. The peasant 
 addresses the same request to him, and he stops and gives 
 the required assistance. 
 
 1 Quoted by Buslaef, '1st. Och.' i. 389. Troyan is also the name of a 
 mythical king who often figures in Slavonic legends. 
 
LEGENDS 349 
 
 When the two saints arrive in heaven, the Lord asks them 
 where they have been. 
 
 ' I have been on the earth,' replies St. Kasian. ' And I 
 happened to pass by a moujik whose cart had stuck in the 
 mud. He cried out to me, saying, " Help me to get my 
 cart out ! " But I was not going to spoil my heavenly 
 apparel.' 
 
 ' I have been on the earth,' says St. Nicholas, whose 
 clothes were all covered with mud. ' I went along that 
 same road, and I helped the moujik to get his cart free.' 
 
 Then the Lord says, ' Listen, Kasian ! Because thou 
 didst not assist the moujik, therefore shall men honour thee 
 by thanksgiving once only every four years. But to thee, 
 Nicholas, because thou didst assist the moujik to set free his 
 cart, shall men twice every year offer up thanksgiving.' 
 
 ' Ever since that time,' says the story, ' it has been cus- 
 tomary to offer prayers and thanksgiving (molebnui) to 
 Nicholas twice a year, but to Kasian only once every leap- 
 year.' * 
 
 In another story St. Nicholas comes to the aid of an 
 adventurer who watches beside the coffin of a bewitched 
 princess. There were two moujiks in a certain village, we 
 are told, one of whom was very rich and the other very poor. 
 One day the poor man, who was in great distress, went to 
 the house of the rich man and begged for a loan. 
 
 ' I will repay it, on my word. Here is Nicholas as a 
 surety,' he cried, pointing to a picture of St. Nicholas. 
 
 Thereupon the rich man lent him twenty roubles. The 
 day for repayment came, but the poor man had not a single 
 copeck. Furious at his loss, the rich man rushed to the 
 picture of St. Nicholas, crying 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendui, No. II. From the Orel district. 
 
350 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 ' Why don't you pay up for that pauper ? You stood 
 surety for him, didn't you ? ' 
 
 And as the picture made no reply, he tore it down from 
 the wall, set it on a cart and drove it away, flogging it as 
 he went, and crying 
 
 ' Pay me my money ! Pay me my money ! ' 
 
 As he drove past the inn a young merchant saw him, and 
 cried 
 
 ' What are you doing, you infidel ! ' 
 
 The moujik explained that as he could not get his money 
 back from a man who was in his debt, he was proceeding 
 against a surety ; whereupon the merchant paid the debt, 
 and thereby ransomed the picture; which he hung up in a 
 place of honour, and kept a lamp burning before it. Soon 
 afterwards an old man offered his services to the merchant, 
 who appointed him his manager ; and from that time all 
 things went well with the merchant. 
 
 But after a while a misfortune befel the land in which he 
 lived, for ' an evil witch enchanted the king's daughter, who 
 lay dead all day long, but at night got up and ate people.' 
 So she was shut up in a coffin and placed in a church, and 
 her hand, with half the kingdom as her dowry, was offered 
 to any one who could disenchant her. The merchant, in 
 accordance with his old manager's instructions, undertook 
 the task, and after a series of adventures succeeded in ac- 
 complishing it. The last words of one of the narrators of 
 the story are, ' Now this old one was no mere man. He was 
 Nicholas himself, the saint of God.' l 
 
 With one more legend about this favourite saint, I will 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendtti, pp. 141-5- With this story may be compared that 
 of ' The Cross- Surety.' See above, p. 27. 
 
LEGENDS 351 
 
 conclude this section of the present chapter. In some of 
 its incidents it closely resembles the story of ' The Smith 
 and the Demon,' which was quoted in the first chapter. 
 
 THE PRIEST WITH THE GREEDY EYES. 1 
 
 IN the parish of St. Nicholas there lived a Pope. This Pope's; 
 eyes were thoroughly pope-like. 2 lie served Nicholas several 
 years, and went on serving until such time as there remained to 
 him nothing either for board or lodging. Then our Pope collected 
 all the church keys, looked at the picture of Nicholas, thumped 
 him, out of spite, over the shoulders with the keys, and went forth 
 from his parish as his eyes led him. And as he walked along the 
 road he suddenly lighted upon an unknown man. 
 
 ' Hail, good man ! ' said the stranger to the Pope. l Whence 
 do you come and whither are you going ? Take me with you as- 
 a companion.' 
 
 Well, they went on together. They walked and walked for 
 several versts, then they grew tired. It was time to seek repose. 
 Now the Pope had a few biscuits in his cassock, and the com- 
 panion he had picked up had a couple of small loaves. 3 
 
 < Let's eat your loaves first,' says the Pope, ' and afterwards 
 we'll take to the biscuits, too.' 
 
 1 Agreed ! ' replies the stranger. * We'll eat my loaves, and 
 keep your biscuits for afterwards.' 
 
 Well, they ate away at the loaves; each of them ate his fill, but 
 the loaves got no smaller. The Pope grew envious : ' Come/ 
 thinks he, ' I'll steal them from him ! ' After the meal the old 
 man lay down to take a nap, but the Pope kept scheming how to 
 steal the loaves from him. The old man went to sleep. The 
 
 1 Afanasief, Legendui, No. 5. From the Archangel Government. 
 
 z Popov skie, from/0/, the vulgar name for a priest, the Greek ird-Tr^as. 
 
 3 The prosvirka, or prosfora, is a small loaf, made of fine wheat flour. It 
 is used for the communion service, but before consecration it is freely sold and 
 purchased. 
 
352 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 -Pope drew the loaves out of his pocket and began quietly nibbling 
 them at his seat. The old man awoke and felt for his loaves ; 
 they were gone ! 
 
 ' Where are my loaves ? ' he exclaimed ; ' who has eaten 
 them ? was it you, Pope ? ' 
 
 ' No, not I, on my word ! ' replied the Pope. 
 
 4 Well, so be it/ said the old man. 
 
 They gave themselves a shake, and set out again on their 
 journey. They walked and walked ; suddenly the road branched 
 -off in two different directions. Well, they both went the same 
 way, and so reached a certain country. In that country the King's 
 daughter lay at the point of death, and the King had given notice 
 .that to him who should cure his daughter he would give half of 
 his kingdom, and half of his goods and possessions ; but if any 
 one undertook to cure her and failed, he should have his head 
 chopped off and hung up on a stake. Well, they arrived, elbowed 
 their way among the people in front of the King's palace, and 
 .gave out that they were doctors. The servant came out from 
 the King's palace, and began questioning them : 
 
 1 Who are you ? from what cities, of what families ? what do 
 you want ? ' . 
 
 1 We are doctors/ they replied ; ' we can cure the Princess ! ' 
 
 ' Oh \ if you are doctors, come into the palace/ 
 
 So they went into the palace, saw the Princess, and asked the 
 King to supply them with a private apartment, a tub of water, a 
 sharp sword, and a big table. The King supplied them with all 
 these things. Then they shut themselves up in the private 
 .apartment, laid the Princess on the big table, cut her into small 
 pieces with the sharp sword, flung them into the tub of water, 
 washed them, and rinsed them. Afterwards they began putting 
 the pieces together ; when the old man breathed on them the 
 different pieces stuck together. When he had put all the pieces 
 together properly, he gave them a final puff of breath : the 
 Princess began to quiver, and then arose alive and well ! The 
 King came in person to the door of their room, and cried : 
 
LEGENDS 353 
 
 ' In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy 
 Ghost ! ' 
 
 * Amen ! ' they replied. 
 
 * Have you cured the Princess ? ' asked the King. 
 
 ' We've cured her,' say the doctors. ' Here she is ! ' 
 
 Out went the Princess to the King, alive and well. 
 
 Says the King to the doctors : * What sort of valuables will 
 you have ? would you like gold or silver ? Take whatever you 
 please.' 
 
 Well, they began taking gold and silver. The old man used 
 only a thumb and two fingers, but the Pope seized whole hand- 
 fuls, and kept on stowing them away in his wallet shovelling them 
 into it, and then lifting it a bit to see if he was strong enough to 
 carry it. 
 
 At last they took their leave of the King and went their way. 
 The old man said to the Pope, * We'll bury this money in the 
 ground, and go and make another cure.' Well, they walked and 
 walked, and at length they reached another country. In that 
 country, also, the King had a daughter at the point of death, and 
 he had given notice that whoever cured his daughter should have 
 half of his kingdom and of his goods and possessions ; but if he 
 failed to cure her he should have his head chopped off and hung 
 up on a stake. 1 Then the Evil One afflicted the envious Pope, 
 suggesting to him ' Why shouldn't he go and perform the cure by 
 himself, without saying a word to the old man, and so lay hold of 
 all the gold and silver for himself? 7 So the Pope walked about 
 in front of the royal gates, forced himself on the notice of the 
 people there, and gave out that he was a doctor. In the same 
 way as before he asked the King for a private room, a tub of 
 water, a large table, and a sharp sword. Shutting himself up in 
 the private room, he laid the Princess on the table, and began 
 
 1 A few lines are here omitted as being superfluous. In the original the 
 second princess is cured exactly as the first had been. The doctors then pro- 
 ceed to a third country, where they find precisely the same position of affairs. 
 
 AA 
 
354 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 chopping her up with the sharp sword ; and however much the 
 Princess might scream or squeal, the Pope, without paying any 
 attention to either screaming or squealing, went on chopping and 
 chopping just as if she had been so much beef. And when he 
 had chopped her up into little pieces, he threw them into the tub, 
 washed them, rinsed them, and then put them together bit by bit, 
 exactly as the old man had done, expecting to see all the pieces 
 unite with each other. He breathes on them but nothing 
 happens ! He gives another puff worse than ever ! See, the 
 Pope flings the pieces back again into the water, washes and 
 washes, rinses and rinses, and again puts them together bit by 
 bit. Again he breathes on them but still nothing comes of it. 
 
 ' Woe is me/ thinks the Pope ; * here's a mess ! ' 
 
 Next morning the King arrives and looks the doctor has had 
 no success at all he's only messed the dead body all over with 
 muck ! 
 
 The King ordered the doctor off to the gallows. Then our 
 Pope besought him, crying 
 
 ' O King ! O free to do thy will ! Spare me for a little time ! 
 I will run for the old man, he will cure the Princess.' 
 
 The Pope ran off in search of the old man. He found the old 
 man, and cried : 
 
 1 Old' man ! I am guilty, wretch that I am ! The Devil got 
 hold of me. I wanted to cure the King's daughter all by myself, 
 but I couldn't. Now they're going to hang me. Do help me ! ' 
 
 The old man returned with the Pope. 
 
 The Pope was taken to the gallows. Says the old man to the 
 Pope : 
 
 ' Pope ! who ate my loaves ? ' 
 
 * Not I, on my word ! So help me Heaven, not I ! ' 
 
 The Pope was hoisted on to the second step. Says the old 
 man to the Pope : 
 
 1 Pope ! who ate my loaves ? ' 
 
 * Not I, on my word ! So help me Heaven, not I ! ' 
 
 He mounted the third step and again it was ' Not I ! ' And 
 

 LEGENDS . 355 
 
 now his head was actually in the noose but it's * Not I ! ' all the 
 same. Well, there was nothing to be done ! Says the old man 
 to the King : 
 
 1 O King ! O free to do thy will ! Permit me to cure the 
 Princess. And if I do not cure her, order another noose to be 
 got ready. A noose for me, and a noose for the Pope ! ' 
 
 Well, the old man put the pieces of the Princess's body to- 
 gether, bit by bit, and breathed on them and the Princess stood 
 up alive and well.. The King recompensed them both with silver 
 and gold. 
 
 ' Let's go and divide the money, Pope/ said the old man.. 
 
 So they went. They divided the money into three heaps. The 
 Pope looked at them, and said : 
 
 ' How's this ? There's only two of us. For whom is this third 
 share?' 
 
 ' That,' says the old man, ' is for him who ate my loaves.' 
 
 ' I ate them, old man,' cries the Pope ; ' I did really, so help me 
 Heaven ! ' 
 
 'Then the money is yours,' says the old man. 'Take my 
 share too. And now go and serve in your parish faithfully; don't 
 be greedy, and don't ga hitting Nicholas over the shoulders with 
 the keys.' 
 
 Thus spake the old man, and straightway disappeared.. 
 
 [The principal motive of this story is, of course, the same as that of ' The 
 Smith and the Demon,' in No. 13 (see above, p. 57). A miraculous cure is 
 effected by a supernatural being. A man attempts to do likewise, but fails. 
 When about to undergo the penalty of his failure, he is saved by that being, 
 who reads him a moral lesson. In the original form of the tale the supernatural 
 agent was probably a demigod, whom a vague Christian influence has in one 
 instance degraded into the Devil, in another canonized as St. Nicholas. 
 
 The Medea's cauldron episode occurs in very many folk-tales, such as the 
 German ' Bruder Lustig' (Grimm, No. 81) and 'Das junge gegliihte Mannlein' 
 (Grimm, No. 147), in the latter of which our Lord,. accompanied by St. Peter,, 
 spends a night in a Smith's house, and makes an old beggar-man young by 
 first placing him in the fire, and then plunging him into water. After the 
 departure of his visitors, the Smith tries a similar experiment on his mother-in- 
 law, but quite unsuccessfully. In the corresponding Norse tale of ' The Master- 
 Smith,' (Asbjornsen and Moe, No. 21, Dasent, No. 16) an old beggar-woman 
 
 A A 2 
 
356 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Is the victim of the Smith's unsuccessful experiment. In another Norse tale, 
 that of 'Peik' (Asbjornsen's New Series, No. 101, p. 219) a king is induced 
 to kill his wife and his daughter in the mistaken belief that he will be able to 
 restore them to life. In one of the stories of the ' Dasakumaracharita, ' a king 
 is persuaded to jump into a certain lake in the hope of obtaining a new and 
 improved body. He is then killed by his insidious adviser, who usurps his 
 throne, pretending to be the renovated monarch. In another story in the 
 same collection a king believes that his wife will be able to confer on him by 
 her magic skill ' a most celestial figure,' and under that impression confides to 
 her all his secrets, after which she brings about his death. See Wilson's 
 * Essays,' ii. 217, &c. & 262, &c. Jacob's 'Hindoo Tales,' pp. 180 & 315.] 
 
 IL 
 ABOUT DEMONS. 
 
 FROM the stories which have already been quoted some 
 idea may be gained of the part which evil spirits play in 
 Russian popular fiction. In one of them (No. i) figures 
 the ghoul which feeds on the dead, in several (Nos. 37, 38, 
 45-48) we see the fiend-haunted corpse hungering after 
 human flesh and blood ; the history of The Bad Wife 
 (No. 7) proves how a demon may suffer at a woman's 
 hands, that of The Dead Witch (No. 3) shows to what 
 indignities the remains of a wicked woman may be sub- 
 jected by the fiends with whom she has chosen to associate. 
 In the Awful Drunkard (No. 6), and the Fiddler in Hell 
 (No. 41), the abode of evil spirits is portrayed, and some 
 light is thrown on their manners and customs ; and in the 
 Smith and the Demon (No. 13), the portrait of one of their 
 number is drawn in no unkindly spirit. The difference 
 which exists between the sketches of fiends contained in 
 these stories is clearly marked, so much so that it would 
 of itself be sufficient to prove that there is no slight con- 
 fusion of ideas in the minds of the Russian peasants with 
 regard to the demoniacal beings whom they generally call 
 
LEGENDS 357 
 
 chorti, or devils. Still more clearly is the contrast between 
 those ideas brought out by the other stories, many in 
 number, into which those powers of darkness enter. It 
 is evident that the traditions from which the popular con- 
 ception of the ghostly enemy has been evolved must have 
 been of a complex and even conflicting character. 
 
 Of very heterogeneous elements must have been com- 
 posed the form under which the popular fancy, in Russia 
 as well as in other lands, has embodied the abstract idea of 
 evil. The diabolical characters in the Russian tales and 
 legends are constantly changing the proportions of their 
 figures, the nature of their attributes. In one story 
 they seem to belong to the great and widely subdivided 
 family of Indian demons ; in another they appear to be 
 akin to certain fiends of Turanian extraction ; in a third 
 they display features which may have been inherited from 
 the forgotten deities of old Slavonic mythology ; in all 
 the stories which belong to the ' legendary class ' they bear 
 manifest signs of having beea subjected to Christian in- 
 fluences, the effect of which has been insufficient to do 
 more than slightly to disguise their heathenism. 
 
 The old gods of the Slavonians have passed away and 
 left behind but scanty traces of their existence ; but still, 
 in the traditions and proverbial expressions of the peasants 
 in various Slavonic lards, there may be recognised some 
 relics of the older faith. Among these are a few re- 
 ferring to a White and to a Black God. Thus, among the 
 peasants of White-Russia some vague memory still exists 
 of a white or bright being, now called Byelun, 1 who leads 
 belated travellers out of forests, and bestows gold on men 
 
 1 Byely = white.. See. the ' Songs of the Russian. People,' p. 103, the 
 ' Deutsche Mythologie,' p. 203. 
 
358 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 who do him good service. ' Dark is it in the forest with- 
 out Byelun ' is one phrase ; and another, spoken of a man 
 on whom fortune has smiled, is, 'He must have made 
 friends with Byelun.' On the other hand the memory of 
 the black or evil god is preserved in such imprecations as 
 the Ukraine * May the black god smite thee ! ' 1 To 
 ancient pagan traditions, also, into which a Christian ele- 
 ment has entered, may be assigned the popular belief that 
 infants which have been cursed by their mothers before 
 their birth, or which are suffocated during their sleep, or 
 which die from any causes unchristetied or christened by a 
 drunken priest, become the prey of demons. This idea has 
 given rise in Russia, as well as elsewhere, to a large group 
 of stories. The Russian peasants believe, it is said, that 
 in order to rescue from the fiends the soul of a babe which 
 (has been suffocated in its sleep, its mother must spend 
 three nights in a church, standing within a circle traced by 
 the hand of a priest. When the cocks crow on the third 
 morning, the demons will give her back her dead child. 2 
 
 Great stress is laid in the skazkas and legends upon 
 the terrible power of a parent's curse. The ' hasty word ' 
 of a father or a mother will condemn even an innocent 
 child to slavery among devils, and when it has once been 
 uttered, it is irrevocable. It might have been supposed that 
 the fearful efficacy of such an imprecation would have 
 silenced bad language, as that of the Vril rendered war 
 impossible among the Vril-ya of ' The Coming Race ; ' but 
 that such was not the case is proved by the number of 
 narratives which turn on uncalled-for parental cursing. 
 Here is an abridgment of one of these stories. 
 
 1 Shchob tebe chorny bjg ubif! Afanasief. P.V.S., i. 93-4. 
 
 2 Afanasief, P.V.S., in. 314-5. 
 
LEGENDS 359 
 
 There was an old man who lived near Lake Onega, and 
 who supported himself and his wife by hunting. One day 
 when he was engaged in the pursuit of game, a well-dressed 
 man met him and said, 
 
 * Sell me that dog of yours, and come for your money to 
 the Mian mountain to-morrow evening.' 
 
 The old man sold him the dog, and went next day to 
 the top of the mountain, where he found a great city 
 inhabited by devils. 1 There he soon found the house of 
 his debtor, who provided him with a banquet and a bath. 
 And in the bath-room he was served by a young man 
 who, when the bath was over, fell at his feet, saying, 
 
 ' Don't accept money for your dog, grandfather, but ask 
 for me ! ' 
 
 The old man consented. ' Give me that good youth/ said 
 he. ' He shall serve instead of a son to me.' 
 
 There was no help for it ; they had to give him the 
 youth. And when the old man had returned home, the 
 youth told him to go to Novgorod, there to enquire for a 
 merchant, and ask him whether he had any children. 
 
 He did so, and the merchant replied, 
 
 'I had an only son, but his mother cursed him in a 
 passion, crying, " The devil take thee ! " 2 And so the 
 devil carried him off.' 
 
 It turned out that the youth whom the old man had 
 saved from the devils was that merchant's son. Thereupon 
 the merchant rejoiced greatly, and took the old man and 
 his wife to live with him in his house. 3 
 
 And here is another tale of the same kind, from the 
 Vladimir Government. 
 
 1 Lembm, perhaps a Samoyed word. 
 
 2 Lemboi te (tebya) voz'mi! * Afanasief, P.V.S. iii. pp. 314-5. 
 
360 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 Once upon a time there was an old couple, and they 
 had an only son. His mother had cursed him before he 
 was born, but he grew up and married. Soon afterwards 
 he suddenly disappeared. His parents did all they could 
 to trace him, but their attempts were in vain. 
 
 Now there was a hut in the forest not far off, and 
 thither it chanced that an old beggar came one night, and 
 lay down to rest on the stove. Before he had been there 
 long, some one rode up to the door of the hut, got off his 
 horse, entered the hut, and remained there all night, 
 muttering incessantly : 
 
 * May the Lord judge my mother, in that she cursed 
 me while a babe unborn ! ' 
 
 Next morning the beggar went to the house of the old 
 couple, and told them all that had occurred. So towards 
 evening the old man went to the hut in the forest, and hid 
 himself behind the stove. Presently the horseman arrived, 
 entered the hut, and began to repeat the words which the 
 beggar had overheard. The old man recognised his son, 
 and came forth to greet him, crying : 
 
 ' O my dear son ! at last I have found thee ! never again 
 will I let thee go !' 
 
 ' Follow me !' replied his son, who mounted his horse 
 and rode away, his father following him on foot. Pre- 
 sently they came to a river which was frozen over, and in 
 the ice was a hole. 1 And the youth rode straight into that 
 hole, and in it both he and his horse disappeared. The 
 old man lingered long beside the ice-hole, then he returned 
 home and said to his wife : 
 
 1 ProluV (for proruV}> a hole cut in the ice, and kept open, for the pur- 
 pose of getting at the water. 
 
LEGENDS 361 
 
 ' I have found our son, but it will be hard to get him 
 back. Why he lives in the water !' 
 
 Next night the youth's mother went to the hut, but she 
 succeeded no better than her husband had done. 
 
 So on the third night his young wife went to the hut 
 and hid behind the stove. And when she heard the horse- 
 man enter she sprang forth, exclaiming : 
 
 ' My darling dear, my life-long spouse ! now will I 
 never part from thee ! ' 
 
 ' Follow me !' replied her husband. 
 
 And when they came to the edge of the ice-hole 
 
 ' If thou goest into the water, then will I follow after 
 thee !' cried she. 
 
 ' If so, take off thy cross,' he replied. 
 
 She took off her cross, leaped into the ice-hole and 
 found herself in a vast hall. In it Satan * was seated. 
 And when he saw her arrive, he asked her husband whom 
 he had brought with him. 
 
 ' This is my wife,' replied the youth. 
 
 ' Well then, if she is thy wife, get thee gone hence with 
 her ! married folks must not be sundered.' 2 
 
 So the wife rescued her husband, and brought him back 
 from the devils into the free light. 3 
 
 Sometimes it is a victim's own imprudence, and not a 
 parent's ' hasty word,' which has placed him in the power 
 of the Evil One. There is a well-known story, which has 
 spread far and wide over Europe, of a soldier who abstains 
 
 1 Satana. 
 
 2 The word by which the husband here designates his wife is zakon, which 
 properly signifies (i) law, (2) marriage. Here it stands for 'spouse.' Satan 
 replies, ' If this be thy zakon, go hence therewith ! to sever a zakon is im- 
 possible. ' 
 
 8 Abridged from Afanasief, P. V.S. iii. 315-6. 
 
362 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 for a term of years from washing, shaving, and hair-comb- 
 ing, and who serves, or at least obeys, the devil during that 
 time, at the end of which he is rewarded by the fiend with 
 great wealth. His appearance being against him, he has 
 some difficulty in finding a wife, rich as he is. But after the 
 elder sisters of a family have refused him, the youngest 
 accepts him ; whereupon he allows himself to be cleansed, 
 combed, and .dressed in bright apparel, and leads a cleanly 
 and a happy life ever afterwards. 1 
 
 In one of the German versions of this story, a king's 
 elder daughter, when asked to marry her rich but slovenly 
 suitor, replies, ' I would sooner go into the deepest water 
 than do that.' In a Russian version, 2 the unwashed 
 soldier lends a large sum of money to an impoverished 
 monarch, who cannot pay his troops, and asks his royal 
 creditor to give him one of his daughters in marriage by 
 way of recompense. The king reflects. He is sorry for 
 his daughters, but at the same time he cannot do without 
 the money. At last, he tells the soldier to get his por- 
 trait painted, and promises to show it to the princesses, 
 and see if one of them will accept him. The soldier has his 
 likeness taken, ' touch for touch, just exactly as he is/ and 
 the king shows it to his daughters. The eldest princess 
 sees that * the picture is that of a monster, with dishevelled 
 hair, and uncut nails, and unwiped nose/ and cries : 
 ' I won't have him ! I'd sooner have the devil ! ' 
 Now the devil ' was standing behind her, pen and paper 
 in hand. He heard what she said, and booked her soul.' 
 
 When the second princess is asked whether she will marry 
 the soldier, she exclaims : 
 
 1 See the notes in Grimm's KM. Bd. iii. to stories loc and 101. 
 
 2 Afanasief, v. No. 26. 
 
LEGENDS 363 
 
 * No indeed ! I'd rather die an old maid, I'd sooner be 
 linked with the devil, than marry that man!' 
 
 When the devil heard that, 'he booked her soul 
 too.' 
 
 But the youngest princess, the Cordelia of the family, 
 when she is asked whether she will marry the man who has 
 helped her father in his need, replies : 
 
 ' It's fated I must, it seems ! I'll marry him, and then 
 God's will be done !' 
 
 While the preparations are being made for the marriage, 
 the soldier arrives at the end of his term of service to ' the 
 little devil ' who had hired him, and from whom he had re- 
 ceived his wealth in return for his abstinence from cleanli- 
 ness. So he calls the ' little devil,' and says, ' Now turn me 
 into a nice young man.' 
 
 Accordingly 'the little devil cut him up into small 
 pieces, threw them into a cauldron and set them on to boil. 
 When they were done enough, he took them out and put 
 them together again properly bone to bone, joint to joint, 
 vein to vein. Then he sprinkled them with the Waters of 
 Life and of Death and up jumped the soldier, a finer lad 
 than stories can describe, or pens portray !' 
 
 The story does not end here. When the ' little devil ' 
 returns to the lake from which he came, ' the grandfather ' 
 of the demons asks him 
 
 1 How about the soldier ? ' 
 
 ' He has served his time honestly and honourably,' is 
 the reply. ' Never once did he shave, have his hair cut, 
 wipe his nose, or change his clothes.' The ' grandfather ' 
 flies into a passion. 
 
 ' What ! in fifteen whole .years you couldn't entrap a 
 soldier ! What, all that money wasted for nothing ! What 
 
364 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 sort of a devil do you call yourself after that ?' and 
 ordered him to be flung ' into boiling pitch.' 
 
 'Stop, grandfather!' replies his grandchild. ' I've 
 booked two souls instead of the soldier's one.' 
 
 'How's that?' 
 
 ' Why, this way. The soldier wanted to marry one of 
 three princesses, but the elder one and the second one told 
 their father that they'd sooner marry the devil than the 
 soldier. So you see both of them are ours.' 
 
 After he had heard this explanation, ' the grandfather 
 acknowledged that the little devil was in the right, and 
 ordered him to be set free. The imp, you see, understood 
 his business.' 
 
 [For two German versions of this story, see the tales of ' Des Teufels 
 russiger Bruder,' and 'Der Barenhauter' (Grimm, Nos. 100-1, and Bd. iii. 
 pp. 181-2). More than twelve centuries ago, Hiouen-Thsang transferred the 
 following story from India to China. A certain Rishi passed many times ten 
 thousand years in a religious ecstasy. His body became like a withered tree. 
 At last he emerged from his ecstasy, and felt inclined to marry, so he went to 
 a neighbouring palace, and asked the king to bestow upon him one of his 
 daughters. The king, exceedingly embarrassed, called the princesses together, 
 and asked which of them would consent to accept thfe dreaded suitor (who, of 
 course, had not paid the slightest attention to his toilette for hundreds of centuries). 
 Ninety-nine of those ladies flatly refused to have anything to do- with him, but 
 the hundredth, the last and youngest of the party, agreed to sacrifice herself for 
 her father's sake. But when the Rishi saw his bride he was discontented, and 
 when he heard that her elder and fairer sisters had all refused him, he pro- 
 nounced a curse which made all ninety-nine of them humpbacks, and so 
 destroyed their chance of marrying at all. Stanislas Julien's ' Memoires 
 sur les contrees occidentales,' 1857, i. pp. 244-7.] 
 
 As the idea that a hasty word ' can place its utterer or 
 its victim in the power of the Evil One (not only after death, 
 but also during this life) has given rise to numerous Russian 
 legends, and as it still exists, to some extent, as a living 
 faith in the minds of the Russian peasantry, it may be as 
 well to quote at length one of the stories in which it is 
 
LEGENDS 365 
 
 embodied. It will be recognised as a variant of the stories 
 about the youth who visits the ' Water King ' and elopes 
 with one of that monarch's daughters. The main differ- 
 ence between the ' legend ' we are about to quote, and the 
 skazkas which have already been quoted, is that a devil 
 of the Satanic type is substituted in it for the mythical 
 personage whether Slavonic Neptune or Indian Rakshasa 
 who played a similar part in them. 
 
 THE HASXY WORD. J 
 
 IN a certain village there lived an old couple in great poverty, and 
 they had one son. The son grew up, 3 and the old woman began 
 to say to the old man : 
 
 * It's time for us to get our son married. 5 
 
 * Well then, go and ask for a wife for him,' said he. 
 
 So she went to a neighbour to ask for his daughter for her son : 
 the neighbour refused. She went to a second peasant's, but the 
 second refused too to a third, but he showed her the door. She 
 went round the whole village ; not a soul would grant her request. 
 So she returned home and cried 
 
 ' Well, old man ! our lad's an unlucky fellow ! ' 
 
 'How so?' 
 
 ' I've trudged round to every house, but no one will give him 
 his daughter.' 
 
 ' That's a bad business ! ' says the old man ; l the summer will 
 soon be coming, but we have no one to work for us here. Go to 
 another village, old woman, perhaps you will get a bride for him 
 there' 
 
 The old woman went to another village, visited every house 
 from one end to the other, but there wasn't an atom of good to be 
 got out of it. Wherever she thrusts herself, they always refuse. 
 With what she left home, with that she returned home. 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 48. 
 
 a ' Entered upon his matured years,' from 17 to 21. 
 
366 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 'No/ she says, 'no one wants to become related to us poor 
 beggars.' 
 
 4 If that's the case/ answers the old man, ' there's no use in 
 wearing out your legs. Jump up on to \he polati.' ! 
 
 The son was sorely afflicted, and began to entreat his parents, 
 saying : 
 
 ' My born father and my born mother ! give me your blessing. 
 I will go and seek my fate myself.' 
 
 ' But where will you go ? ' 
 
 ' Where my eyes lead me.' 
 
 So they gave him their blessmg, and let him go whithersoever 
 it pleased him. 2 
 
 Well, the youth went out upon the highway, began to weep 
 very bitterly, and said to himself as he walked : 
 
 ' Was I born into the world worse than all other men, that not 
 a single girl is willing to marry me ? Methinks if the devil himself 
 would give me a bride, I'd take even her 1 ' 
 
 Suddenly, as if rising from the earth, there appeared before him 
 a very old man. 
 
 1 Good-day, good youth ! ' 
 
 4 Good-day, old man ! ' 
 
 ' What was that you were saying just now ? ' 
 
 The youth was frightened and did not know what reply to 
 make. 
 
 ' Don't be afraid of me ! I shan't do you any harm, and more- 
 over, perhaps I may get you out of your trouble. Speak boldly ! ' 
 
 The youth told him everything precisely. 
 
 ' Poor creature that I am ! There isn't a single girl who will 
 marry me. Well, as I went along I became exceedingly wretched, 
 and in my misery I said : " If the devil offered me a bride, I'd take 
 even her ! " ' 
 
 The old man laughed and said : 
 
 ' Follow me, I'll let you choose a lovely bride for yourself.' 
 
 1 The sleeping-place. 2 Literally, 'to all the four sides.' 
 
LEGENDS 367 
 
 By-and-by they reached a lake. 
 
 4 Turn your back to the lake and walk backwards/ said the old 
 man. Scarcely had the youth had time to turn round and take a 
 couple of steps, when he found himself under the water and in a 
 white-stone palace all its rooms splendidly furnished, cunningly 
 decorated'. The old man gave him to eat and to drink. After- 
 wards he introduced twelve maidens, each one more beautiful than 
 the other. 
 
 ' Choose whichever you like ! whichever you choose, her will I 
 bestow upon you/ 
 
 ' That's a puzzling job ! ' said the youth; * give me till to-morrow 
 morning to think about it, grandfather ! ' 
 
 * Well, think away ! ' said the old man, and led his guest to a 
 private chamber. The youth lay down to sleep and thought : 
 
 ' Which one shall I choose ? ' 
 
 Suddenly the door opened ; a beautiful maiden entered. 
 
 ' Are you asleep, or not, good youth ? ' says she. 
 
 ' No, fair maiden ! I can't get to sleep, for I'm always thinking 
 which bride to choose/ 
 
 ' That's the very reason I have come to give you counsel. 
 You see, good youth, you've managed to become the devil's guest. 
 Now listen. If you want to go on living in the white world, then 
 do what I tell you. But if you don't follow my instructions, you'll 
 never get out of here alive ! ' 
 
 * Tell me what to do, fair maiden. I won't forget it all my 
 life.' 
 
 * To-morrow the fiend will bring you the twelve maidens, each 
 one exactly like the others. But you take a good look and 
 choose me. A fly will be sitting above my right eye that will be 
 a certain guide for you.' And then the fair maiden proceeded to 
 tell him about herself, who she was. 
 
 ' Do you know the priest of such and such a village ? ' she 
 says. ' I'm his daughter, the one who disappeared from home 
 when nine years old. One day my father was angry with me, and 
 in his wrath he said, " May devils fly away with you ! " I went 
 
368 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 out on the steps and began to cry. All of a sudden the fiends 
 seized me and brought me here ; and here I am living with 
 them ! ' 
 
 Next morning the old man brought in the twelve fair maidens 
 one just like another and ordered the youth to choose his 
 bride. He looked at them and took her above whose right eye sat 
 a fly. The old man was loth to give her up, so he shifted the 
 maidens about, and told him to make a fresh choice. The youth 
 pointed out the same one as before. The fiend obliged him to 
 choose yet a third time. He again guessed his bride aright. 
 
 ' Well, you're in luck 1 take her home with you/ said the 
 fiend. 
 
 Immediately the youth and the fair maiden found themselves 
 on the shore of the lake, and until they reached the high road 
 they kept on walking backwards. Presently the devils came 
 rushing after them in hot pursuit : 
 
 ' Let us recover our maiden ! ' they cry. 
 
 They look : there are no footsteps going away from the lake ; 
 all the footsteps lead into the water ! They ran to and fro, they 
 searched everywhere, but they had to go back empty-handed. 
 
 Well, the good youth brought his bride to her village, and 
 stopped opposite the priest's house. The priest saw him and sent 
 out his labourer, saying : 
 
 ' Go and ask who those people are.' 
 
 'We? we're travellers; please let us spend the night in your 
 house,' they replied. 
 
 ' I have merchants paying me a visit/ says the priest ; * and 
 even without them there's but little room in the house.' 
 
 ' What are you thinking of, father?' says one of the merchants. 
 4 It's always one's duty to accommodate a traveller ; they won't 
 interfere with us.' 
 
 ' Very well, let them come in.' 
 
 So they came in, exchanged greetings, and sat down on a 
 bench in the back corner. 
 
LEGENDS 369- 
 
 1 Don't you know me, father?' presently asks the fair maiden; 
 ' Of a surety I am your own daughter.' 
 
 Then she told him everything that had happened; They 
 began to kiss and embrace each other, to pour forth tears of joy. 
 
 ' And who is this man ? ' says the priest. 
 
 ' That is my betrothed. He brought me back into the white 
 world ; if it hadn't been for him I should have remained down 
 there for ever ! ' 
 
 After this the fair maiden untied her bundle, and in it were 
 gold and silver dishes : she had carried them off from the devils. 
 The merchant looked at them and said : 
 
 ' Ah ! those are my dishes. One day I was feasting with my 
 guests, and when I got drunk I became angry with my wife. To 
 the devil with you ! " I exclaimed, and began flinging from the 
 table, and beyond the threshold, whatever I could lay my hands 
 upon. At that moment my dishes disappeared ! ' 
 
 And in reality so had it happened. When the merchant 
 mentioned the devil's name, the fiend immediately appeared at 
 the threshold, began seizing the gold and silver wares, and fling- 
 ing in their place bits of pottery. 
 
 Well, by this accident the youth got himself a capital bride. 
 And after he had married her he went back to his parents. 
 They had long ago counted him as lost to them for ever. And 
 indeed it was no subject for jesting ; he had been away from home 
 three whole years, and yet it seemed to him that he had not in- 
 all spent more than twenty-four hours with the devils. 
 
 [A quaint version of the legend on which this story is founded is given by 
 Gervase of Tilbury in his ' Otia Imperialia, ' whence the story passed into the 
 * Gesta Romanorum' (cap. clxii.) and spread widely over mediaeval Europe. 
 A certain Catalonian was so much annoyed one day ' by the continued and in- 
 appeasable crying of his little daughter, that he commended her to the demons.' 
 Whereupon she was immediately carried off. Seven years after this, he learnl 
 (from a man placed by a similar imprecation in the power of the demons, who 
 used him as a vehicle) that his daughter was in the interior of a neighbouring 
 mountain, and might be recovered if he would demand her. So he ascended 
 to the summit of the mountain, and there claimed his child. She straightway 
 
 B B 
 
370 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 appeared in miserable plight, ' arida, tetra, oculis vagis, ossibus et nervis et 
 pellibus vix hserentibus,' etc. By the judicious care, however, of her now 
 cautious parent she was restored to physical and moral respectability. For 
 some valuable observations on this story see Liebrecht's edition of the ' Otia 
 Imperialia,' pp. 137-9. In the German story of ' Die sieben Raben ' (Grimm, 
 No. 25) a father's ' hasty word ' turns his six sons into ravens.] 
 
 When devils are introduced into a story of this class, 
 it always assumes a grotesque, if not an absolutely comic 
 air. The evil spirits are almost always duped and de- 
 feated, and that result is generally due to their remarkable 
 want of intelligence. For they display in their dealings 
 with their human antagonists a deficiency of intellectual 
 power which almost amounts to imbecility. The explana- 
 tion of this appears to be that the devils of European folk- 
 lore have nothing in common with the rebellious angels of 
 Miltonic theology beyond their vague denomination ; nor 
 can any but a nominal resemblance be traced between their 
 chiefs or ' grandfathers ' and the thunder-smitten but still 
 majestic 'Lucifer, Son of the Morning.' The demon rabble 
 of ' Popular Tales ' are merely the lubber fiends of heathen 
 mythology, beings endowed with supernatural might, but 
 scantily provided with mental power ; all of terrific manual 
 clutch, but of weak intellectual grasp. And so the hardy 
 mortal who measures his powers against theirs, even in 
 those cases in wliich his strength has not been intensified by 
 miraculous agencies, easily overcomes or'deludes the slow- 
 witted monsters with whom he strives whether his anta- 
 gonist be a Celtic or Teutonic Giant, or a French Ogre, or 
 a Norse Troll, or a Greek Drakos or Lamia, or a Lithua- 
 nian Laume, or a Russian Snake or Koshchei or Baba- 
 Yaga, or an Indian Rakshasa or Pisacha, or any other 
 member of the many species of fiends for which, in 
 Christian parlance, the generic name is that of ' devils.' 
 
LEGENDS 371 
 
 There is no great richness of invention manifested in 
 the stories which deal with the outwitting of evil spirits. 
 The same devices are in almost all cases resorted to, and 
 their effect is invariable. The leading characters undergo 
 certain transmutations as the scene of the story is shifted, 
 but their mutual relations remain constant. Thus, in a 
 German story 1 we find a schoolmaster deceiving the devil ; 
 in one of its Slavonic counterparts 2 a gypsy deludes a 
 snake ; in another, current among the Baltic Kashoubes, in 
 place of the snake figures a giant so huge that the thumb 
 of his glove serves as a shelter for the hero of the tale one 
 which is closely connected with that which tells of Thor 
 and the giant Skrymir. 
 
 The Russian stories in which devils are tricked by mor- 
 tals closely resemble, for the most part, those which are 
 current in so many parts of Europe. The hero of the tale 
 squeezes whey out of a piece of cheese or curd which he 
 passes off as a stone ; he induces the fleet demon to 
 compete with his 'Hop o' my Thumb ' the hare ; he sets the 
 strong demon to wrestle with his * greybeard ' the bear ; he 
 frightens the ' grandfather ' of the fiends by proposing to 
 fling that potentate's magic staff so high in the air that 
 it will never come down ; and he persuades his diabolical 
 opponents to keep pouring gold into a perforated hat or 
 sack. Sometimes, however, a less familiar incident occurs. 
 Thus in a story from the Tambof Government, Zachary 
 the Unlucky is sent by the tailor, his master, to fetch a 
 fiddle from a wolf-fiend. The demon agrees to let him 
 have it on condition that he spends three years in con- 
 tinually weaving nets without ever going to sleep. Za- 
 
 1 Haltrich, No. 27. - Afanasief, v. No. 25. 
 
 B B 2 
 
372 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 chary sets to work, but at the end of a month he grows 
 drowsy. The wolf asks if he is asleep. ' No, I'm not 
 asleep/ he replies ; ' but I'm thinking which fish there are 
 most of in the river big ones or little ones.' The wolf 
 offers to go and enquire, and spends three or four months 
 in solving the problem. Meanwhile Zachary sleeps, taking 
 care, however, to be up and at work when the wolf returns 
 to say that the big fishes are in the majority. 
 
 Time passes, and again Zachary begins to nod. The 
 wolf enquires if he has gone to sleep, but is told that 
 he is awake, but engrossed by the question as to ' which 
 folks are there most of in the world the living or the 
 dead/ The wolf goes out to count them, and Zachary 
 sleeps in comfort, till just before it comes back to say that 
 the living are more numerous than the dead. By the time 
 the wolf-fiend has made a third journey in order to settle 
 a doubt which Zachary describes as weighing on his mind 
 as to the numerical relation of the large beasts to the 
 small the three years have passed away. So the wolf-fiend 
 is obliged to part with his fiddle, and Zachary carries it 
 back to the tailor in triumph. 1 
 
 The demons not unfrequently show themselves capable 
 of being actuated by gratitude. Thus, as we have already 
 seen, the story of the Awful Drunkard 2 represents the devil 
 himself as being grateful to a man who has rebuked an 
 irascible old woman for unjustly blaming the Prince of Dark- 
 ness. In a skazka from the Orenburg Government, a lad 
 named Vanka [Jack] is set to watch his father's turnip- 
 field by night. Presently comes a boy who fills two huge 
 sacks with turnips, and vainly tries to carry them off. While 
 
 1 Khudyakof, No. 114. 2 Chap. i. p. 33. 
 
LEGENDS 
 
 373 
 
 he is tugging away at them he catches sight of Vanka, 
 and immediately asks him to help him home with his load. 
 Vanka consents, and carries the turnips to a cottage, wherein 
 is seated ' an old grey-beard with horns on his head,' who 
 receives him kindly and offers him a quantity of gold as a 
 recompense for his trouble. But, acting on the instructions 
 he has received from the boy, Vanka will take nothing but 
 the greybeard's lute, the sounds of which exercise a magic 
 power over all living creatures. 1 
 
 One of the most interesting of the stories of this class 
 is that of the man who unwittingly blesses the devil. As 
 a specimen of its numerous variants we may take the 
 opening of a skazka respecting the origin of brandy. 
 
 1 There was a moujik who had a wife and seven children, 
 and one day he got ready to go afield, to plough. When 
 his horse was harnessed, and everything ready, he ran 
 indoors to get some bread ; but when he got there, and 
 looked in the cupboard, there was nothing there but a single 
 crust. This .he carried off bodily and drove away. 
 
 ' He reached his field and began ploughing. When he 
 had ploughed up half of it, he unharnessed his horae and 
 turned it out to graze. After that he was just going to eat 
 the bread, when he said to himself, 
 
 '"Why didn't I leave this crust for my children ?" 
 
 ' So after thinking about it for awhile, he set it aside. 
 
 ' Presently a little demon came sidling up and carried off 
 the bread. The moujik. returned and looked about every- 
 where, but no bread was to be seen. However, all he said 
 was, " God be with him who took it ! " 
 
 ' The little demon 2 ran off to the devil, 3 and cried : 
 
 ' " Grandfather ! I've stolen Uncle Sidor's 4 bread ! " 
 
 1 Afanasief, vii., No. 14. 
 
 2 Byesenok, diminutive of Byes. ' Chart. * Isidore. 
 
374 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 '"Well, what did he say ?" 
 
 ' " He said, ' God be with him ! ' " 
 
 1 " Be off with you !" says the devil. " Hire yourself to 
 him for three years." 
 
 ' So the little demon ran back to the moujik.' 
 The rest of the story tells how the imp taught Isidore to 
 make corn-brandy, and worked for him a long time faith- 
 fully. But at last one day Isidore drank so much brandy 
 that he fell into a drunken sleep. From this he was roused 
 by the imp, whereupon he exclaimed in a rage, ' Go to the 
 Devil !' and straightway the ' little demon ' disappeared. 1 
 
 In another version of the story, 2 when the peasant finds 
 that his crust has disappeared, he exclaims 
 
 ' Here's a wonder ! I've seen nobody, and yet somebody 
 has carried off my crust ! Well, here's good luck to him ! 3 
 I daresay I shall not starve to death.' 
 
 When Satan heard what had taken place, he ordered 
 that the peasant's crust should be restored. So the demon 
 who had stolen it ' turned himself into a good youth,' and 
 became the peasant's hireling. When a drought was im- 
 pending, he scattered the peasant's seed-corn over a 
 swamp ; when a wet season was at hand, he sowed the 
 slopes of the hills. In each instance his forethought 
 enabled his master to fill his barns while the other peasants 
 lost their crops. 
 
 [A Moravian version of this tale will be found in ' Der schwarze Knirps ' 
 (Wenzig, No. 15, p. 67). In another Moravian story in the same collection 
 (No. 8) entitled ' Der bose Geist im Dienste,' an evil spirit steals the food 
 which a man had left outside his house for poor passers by. When the demon 
 returns to hell he finds its gates closed, and he is informed by ' the oldest of 
 the devils,' that he must expiate his crime by a three years' service on earth. 
 
 1 Erlenvein, No, 33. From the Tula Government. 
 
 2 Quoted from Borichefsky, by Afanasief, Legendui^ p. 182. 
 
 3 Emy na zdorovie I l Good health to him ! ' 
 
LEGENDS 375 
 
 A striking parallel to the Russian and the former of the Moravian stories is 
 offered by ' a legend of serpent worship,' from Bhaunagar in Kathiawad. A 
 certain king had seven wives, one of whom was badly treated. Feeling hungry 
 one day, she scraped out of the pots which had been given her to wash some 
 remains of rice boiled in milk, set the food on one side, and then went to bathe. 
 During her absence a female Naga (or supernatural snake-being) ate up the 
 rice, and then ' entering her hole, sat there, resolved to bite the woman if she 
 should curse her, but not otherwise.' When the woman returned, and found 
 her meal had been stolen, she did not lose her temper, but only said, * May 
 the stomach of the eater be cooled ! ' When the Naga heard this, she emerged 
 from her hole and said, * Well done ! I now regard you as my daughter,' etc, 
 (From the ' Indian Antiquary,' Bombay, No. I, 1872, pp. 6-7,) 
 
 Sometimes the demon of the legenda bears a close re- 
 semblance to the snake of the skazka. Thus, an evil spirit 
 is described as coming every night at twelve o'clock to the 
 chamber of a certain princess, and giving her no rest till 
 the dawn of day. A soldier the fairy prince in a lower 
 form comes to her rescue, and awaits the arrival of the 
 fiend in her room, which he has had brilliantly lighted. 
 Exactly at midnight up flies the evil spirit, assumes the 
 form of a man, and tries to enter the room. But he is 
 stopped by the soldier, who persuades him to play cards 
 with him for fillips, tricks him in various ways, and fillips 
 him to such effect with a species of ' three-man beetle/ that 
 the demon beats a hasty retreat. 
 
 The next night Satan sends another devil to the palace. 
 The result is the same as before, and the process is repeated 
 every night for a whole month. At the end of that time 
 ' Grandfather Satan ' himself confronts the soldier, but he 
 receives so tremendous a beating that he flies back howling 
 ' to his swamp.' After a time, the soldier induces the 
 whole of the fiendish party to enter his knapsack, prevents 
 them from getting out again by signing it with a cross, and 
 then has it thumped on an anvil to his heart's content. 
 Afterwards he carries it about on his back, the fiends 
 
376 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 remaining under it all the while. But at last some women 
 open it, during his absence from a cottage in which he has 
 left it, and out rush the fiends with a crash and a roar. 
 Meeting the soldier on his way back to the cottage, they 
 are so frightened that they fling themselves into the pool 
 below a mill-wheel ; and there, the story declares, they still 
 remain. 1 
 
 This ' legend ' is evidently nothing more than an adapta- 
 tion of one of the tales about the dull demons of olden 
 times, whom the Christian story-teller has transformed into 
 Satan and his subject fiends. 
 
 By way of a conclusion to this chapter which might 
 be expanded indefinitely, so numerous are the stories of 
 the class of which it treats we will take the moral tale of 
 \ <x The Gossip's Bedstead.' 2 A certain peasant, it relates, 
 "\ 'was so poor that, in order to save himself from starvation, 
 he took to sorcery. After a time he became an adept in 
 the black art, and contracted an intimate acquaintance 
 with the fiendish races. When his son had reached man's 
 estate, the peasant saw it was necessary to find him a 
 bride, so he set out to seek one among 'his friends the 
 devils.' On arriving in their realm he soon found what he 
 wanted, in the person of a girl who had drunk herself to 
 death, and who, in common with other women who had 
 died of drink, was employed by the devils as a water- 
 carrier. Her employers at once agreed to give her in 
 marriage to the son of their friend, and a wedding feast 
 was instantly prepared. While the consequent revelry was 
 
 1 Afanasief, v. No. 43. 
 
 2 Afanasief, Legendui, No. 27. From the Saratof Government. This 
 story is merely one of the numerous Slavonic variants of a tale familiar to 
 many lands. 
 
LEGENDS 377 
 
 in progress, Satan offered to present to the bridegroom a 
 receipt which a father had given to the devils when he sold 
 them his son. But when the receipt was sought for the 
 production of which would have enabled the bridegroom to 
 claim the youth in question as his slave it could not be 
 found ; a certain devil had carried it off, and refused to 
 say where he had hidden it. In vain did his master cause 
 him to be beaten with iron clubs, he remained obstinately 
 mute. At length Satan exclaimed 
 
 ' Stretch him on the Gossip's Bedstead ! ' 
 
 As soon as the refractory devil heard these words, he 
 was so frightened that he surrendered the receipt, whicn 
 was handed over to the visitor. Astonished at the result, 
 the peasant enquired what sort of bedstead that was which 
 had been mentioned with so much effect. 
 
 1 Well, I'll tell you, but don't you tell anyone else,' 
 replied Satan, after hesitating for a time. ' That bedstead 
 is made for us devils, and for our relations, connexions, and 
 gossips. It is all on fire, and it runs on wheels, and turns 
 round and round.' 
 
 When the peasant heard this, fear came upon him, and 
 he jumped up from his seat and fled away as fast as he 
 could. 
 
 At this point, though much still remains to be said, I 
 will for the present bring my remarks to a close. Incom- 
 plete as is the account I have given of the Skazkas, it may 
 yet, I trust, be of use to students who wish to compare as 
 many types as possible of the Popular Tale. I shall be 
 glad if it proves of service to them. I shall be still more 
 glad if I succeed in interesting the general reader in the 
 tales of the Russian People, and through them, in the lives 
 
378 RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES 
 
 of those Russian men and women of low degree who are 
 wont to tell them, those Russian children who love to hear 
 them. 
 
 One evening, during my first visit to Russia, the train 
 in which I was travelling was delayed for several hours 
 near a small station between St. Petersburg and Moscow. 
 While the engine which caused the delay was being repaired, 
 the passengers loitered about the line, and the younger in- 
 habitants of the neighbouring villages gathered together to 
 inspect them. These children were almost the first 
 Russian, boys and girls of the peasant class whom I had an 
 opportunity of seeing close at hand, and I was surprised to 
 perceive how like English children they were both in 
 feature and in expression. Since that time I have made 
 acquaintance with many more of Russia's small people, but 
 I have never forgotten those little lads and lasses whose 
 figures the setting sun steeped in golden light as they 
 lingered on the embankment to watch the convalescent 
 train steam off. They seemed to form a link between the 
 land I had left behind me and the vast country with which 
 I was beginning to become less unacquainted. 
 
 Some such link, perhaps, between English and Russian 
 sentiment may be afforded by the tales in which the 
 children (old as well as young) of England and of Russia 
 delight. One touch of storytelling may in some instances 
 make the whole world kin. Let me hope that the stories 
 which the present volume contains may at least create in 
 some English minds a kindly feeling for our Slavonic 
 cousins, far-removed although they be. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 AD, or Hades, 298 
 ^ Anepou and Satou, story of, 112 
 "Andrew, St., legend about, 344 
 Arimaspians, 183 
 Awful Drunkard, story of the, 33 
 
 T3ABA YAGA, her name and 
 *-* nature, 137; stories about, 92- 
 
 95, 139-15^ 248-250 
 Back, cutting strips from, 146 
 Bad Wife, story of the, 39 
 Beanstalk stories, 22, 291 
 Beer and Corn, legend of, 335 
 Birds, legends about, 331 
 Blind Man and Cripple, story of the, 
 
 240 
 
 Bluebeard's Chamber, 98-100 
 Brandy, legend about origin of, 373 
 Bridge- building incident, 302 
 Brothers, enmity between, 81 
 Brushes, magic, 142 
 
 f**AT, Whittington's, 43 
 ^ Chort, or devil, 21 
 Christ's Brother, legend of, 334 
 Chudo Morskoe, or water monster, 
 
 134 
 
 Chudo Yudo, a many-headed monster, 
 70 
 
 Clergy : their bad reputation in folk- 
 tales, 27 
 
 Coffin Lid, story of the, 309 
 
 Combs, magic, 142 
 
 Creation of Man, legends about, 326 
 
 Cross Surety, story of the, 27 
 
 Curses, legends about, 358 
 
 FOR 
 
 "PJ AYS of the Week, legends about, 
 -^ 198-205 
 
 Dead Mother, story of the, 19 
 Demons : part played in the Skazkas 
 by, 357; souls of babes stolen by, 
 358; legends about children de- 
 voted to, 359 ; about persons who 
 give themselves to, 362 ; dulness of, 
 370 ; tricks played upon, 371 ; 
 gratitude of, 372 ; resemblance of 
 to snakes, 375 
 
 Devil, legends about, 326, 327, 329 
 Dnieper, Volga, and Dvina, story of 
 
 the, 210 
 
 Dog, legends about, 326-328 
 Dog and Corpse, story of the, 313 
 Dolls, or puppets, magic, 159-161 
 Don and Shat, story of the rivers, 208 
 Drink, Russian peasant's love of, 29 ; 
 
 stories about, 30-35 
 Durak, or Ninny, stories about, 10, 
 49 
 
 lives of mythical beings 
 *-' connected with, 109-1 14 
 Elijah, traditions about, 337-339 
 Elijah and Nicholas, legend of, 340 
 Emilian the Fool, story of, 263 
 Evil, personified, 178 
 
 TWIDDLER in Hell, story of the, 
 
 r 298 
 
 Fiend, story of the, 10 
 
 Fool and Birch Tree, story of the, 49 
 
 Fools, stories about, 49 
 
 Fortune, stories about, 195 
 
INDEX 
 
 FOX 
 
 MYT 
 
 Fox- Physician, story of the, 291 
 Fox- Waller, story of the, 22 
 Friday, legend of, 200 
 Frost, story of, 214 
 
 /^EORGE, St., legends about, 344; 
 ^ the Wolves and, 345 ; the 
 
 Gypsy and, 346; the people of 
 
 Troyan and, 347 
 Ghost stories, 290-324 
 Gold-Men, 224 
 
 Golden Bird, the Zhar Ptitsa or, 286 
 Golovikha, or Mayoress, story of the, 
 
 42 
 
 Gore, or Woe, story of, 185 
 Gossip's Bedstead, story of the, 376 
 Gravestone, story of the Ride on the, 
 
 303 
 
 Greece, Vampires in, 319 
 Gypsy, story of St. George and the, 
 346 
 
 TJ.ADES, 298 
 
 Hasty Word, story of the, 365 
 Head, story of the trunkless, 224 
 Headless Princess, story of the, 271 
 Heaven-tree Myth, 293 
 Helena the Fair, story of, 256 
 Hell, story of the Fiddler in, 298 
 Hills, legend of creation of, 329 
 
 JVAN POPYALOF, story of, 66 
 
 XT' ATOMA, story of, 240 
 
 Koshchei the Deathless, stories 
 
 of, 84-105 
 
 Kruchina, or Grief, 193 
 Kuzma and Demian, the holy Smiths, 
 
 70 
 
 T AME and Blind Heroes, story of 
 
 *-* the, 240 
 
 Laments for the Dead, 22 
 
 Leap, bride won by a, 260-263 
 
 Legends, 325-377 
 
 Leshy, or Wood-demon, story of the, 
 
 206 
 Life, Water of, 230 
 
 Likho the One-Eyed, story of, 178 
 Luck, stories about, 195-198 
 
 jyTARYA MOREVNA, story of, 
 
 Medea's Cauldron incident, 355, 363 
 Miser, story of the, 47 
 Mizgir, or Spider, story of the, 55 
 Morfei the Cook, story of, 227 
 Mouse, legends about the, 330 
 Mythology, &c. Personifications of 
 Good and Evil, 64; the Snake, 
 65 ; Daylight eclipsed by a Snake, 
 68; the Chudo-Yudo, 70; the 
 Norka-Beast, 73 ; the Usuinya- 
 Bird, 83 ; Koshchei the Deathless, 
 84-105 ; the Bluebeard's Chamber 
 myth, 98-100 ; stories about ex- 
 ternal hearts and fatal eggs, &c., 
 109-114 ; the Water Snake, 119 ; 
 the Tsar Morskoi or Water King, 
 120-132 ; the King Bear, 133 ; the 
 Water-Chudo, 134 ; the Idol, 135 ; 
 Female embodiments of Evil, 137 ; 
 the Baba Yaga, 137-158; magic 
 dolls or puppets, 1 59 ; the story of 
 Verlioka, 162 ; the Supernatural 
 Witch, 162-175 ; The Sun's Sister 
 and the Dawn, 170-177 ; Likho or 
 Evil, 178-181 ; Polyphemus and 
 the Arimaspians, 182 ; Gore or 
 Woe, 185 ; Nuzhda or Need, 191 ; 
 Kruchina or Grief, 193 ; Zluidni, 
 194; stories about Luck, 195-198; 
 Friday, 198 ; Wednesday, 201 ; 
 Sunday, 204 ; the Leshy or Wood- 
 sprite, 206 ; stories about Rivers, 
 208-214 ; about Frost, 214 ; about 
 the Whirlwind, 226 ; Morfei, 227 ; 
 Oh ! 229 ; the Waters of Life and 
 Death, 230-235; Symplegades, 236; 
 Waters of Strength and Weakness, 
 237-239 ; Magic Horses, 243, 258 ; 
 a Magic Pike, 264-267 ; Witchcraft 
 stories, 268-290 ; the Zhar Ptitsa or 
 Glow-Bird, 284-287 ; upper-world 
 ideas, 291 ; the heaven-tree myth, 
 291-298 ; lower- world ideas, 298 ; 
 Ghost-stories, 303 ; stories about 
 Vampires, 306-318 ; home and 
 origin of Vampirism, 319-324; 
 legends about Saints, the Devil, 
 &c., 325 ; Perun, the thunder-god, 
 
INDEX 
 
 NAT 
 
 SYM 
 
 337 ; superstitions about lightning, 
 339> legends about St. George 
 and the Wolves, 345 ; old Slavo- 
 nian gods changed into demons, 
 357 ; power attributed to curses, 
 359 ; dulness of demons, 370 ; 
 their resemblance to snakes, 375 
 
 JVTATIONAL character, how far 
 ** illustrated by popular tales, 4 
 Need, story of Nuzhda or, 191 
 Nicholas, St., legends about, 339 ; 
 
 his kindness, 348-350 ; story of the 
 
 Priest of, 351 
 Nicholas, St., and Elijah, story of. 
 
 340 
 Norka, story of the, 73 
 
 C\R ! demon named, 229 
 
 v -' One-Eyed Likho, story of, 178 
 
 One-Eyes, Ukraine legend of, 182 
 
 pEEWIT, legend about the, 331 
 Perun, the thunder-god, 337 
 Pike, story of a magic, 264 
 Polyphemus, 182 
 Poor Widow, story of the, 332 
 Popes, Russian Priests called, 23 
 Popular Tales, their meaning &c. , 2- 
 
 4 ; human and supernatural agents 
 
 in, 62-65 
 
 Popyalof, story of Ivan, 66 
 Priest with the Greedy Eyes, story of 
 
 the, 351 
 Princess Helena the Fair, story of the, 
 
 256 
 Purchased Wife, story of the, 30 
 
 T} IDE on the Gravestone, story of 
 v the, 303 
 Rip van Winkle story, 306 
 Rivers, legends about, 208-214 
 Russian children, appearance of, 378 
 Russian Peasants : their dramatic ta- 
 lent, 6 ; pictures of their life con- 
 tained in folk-tales, 7 ; a village 
 soiree, IO ; a courtship, 18 ; a 
 death, 19 ; preparations for a 
 funeral, 20 ; wailing over the dead, 
 22 ; a burial, 23 ; religious feeling 
 
 of, 27 ; passion for drink, 29 ; 
 humour, 35 ; their jokes against 
 women, 36 ; their dislike of ava- 
 rice, 46 ; their jokes about simple- 
 tons, 49 
 Rye, legends about, 328 
 
 C AINTS, legends about, 337 ; Ilya 
 
 or Elijah, 337-339; story of 
 Elijah and Nicholas, 340 ; St. 
 Andrew, 344 ; St. George, 344- 
 348; St. Nicholas, 348-350; St. 
 Kasian, 348 
 
 Scissors story, 36 
 
 Semiletka, story of, 31 
 
 Shroud, story of the, 307 
 
 Skazkas or Russian folk-tales, their 
 value as pictures of Russian life, 
 5-9 ; occurrence of word skazka in, 
 10 ; their openings, 49 ; their end- 
 ings, 70 
 
 Smith and the Demon, story of the, 
 57 
 
 Snake, the mythical, his appearance, 
 65 ; story of Ivan Popyalof, 66 ; 
 story of the Water Snake, 116; 
 Snake Husbands, 119; legend 
 about the Common Snake, 330 ; 
 likeness between Snakes and De- , 
 mons, 375 
 
 Soldier and Demon, story of, 375 
 
 Soldier and the Devil, legend about, 
 361 
 
 Soldier and the Vampire, story of the, 
 3 J 4 
 
 Soldier's Midnight Watch, story of 
 the, 274 
 
 Sozh and Dnieper, story of, 209 
 
 Sparrow, legends about the, 331 
 
 Spasibo or Thank You, 194 
 
 Spider, story of the, 55 
 
 Stakes driven through Vampires, 322 
 
 -324 
 
 Stepmothers, character of, 82 
 Strength and Weakness, Waters of, 
 
 237 
 
 Suicides and Vampires, 323 
 Sunday, tales about, 204 
 Sun's Sister, 170-175 
 Swallow, legends about the, 331 
 Swan Maidens, 120 
 Symplegades, 236 
 
382 
 
 INDEX 
 
 TER 
 
 "TEREMA or Upper Chambers, 
 
 175 
 
 Three Copecks, story of the, 43 
 Treasure, story of the, 23 
 Troyan, City of, legend about, 347 
 Two Corpses, story of the, 312 
 Two Friends, story of the, 304 
 
 T JJAK or Snake, 116 
 
 Unwashed, story of the, 362 
 Usuinya-Bird, 83 
 
 "WAMPIRES, stories about, 309- 
 318 ; account of the belief in, 
 
 3 i 8 -324 
 
 Vasilissa the Fair, story of, 150 
 Vazuza and Volga, story of, 208 
 Vechernitsa or Village Soiree, IO 
 Verlioka, story of, 162 
 Vieszcy, the Kashoube Vampire, 321 
 Vikhor or the Whirlwind, story of, 
 
 226-237 
 Volga, story of Vazuza and, 208 ; of 
 
 Dnieper and Dvina and, 210 
 Vy, the Servian, 72 
 
 YyARLOCK, story of the, 287 
 * * Water King and Vasilissa the 
 Wise, story of the, 102 
 
 ZLU 
 
 Water Snake, story of the, 116 
 Waters of Life and Death, 17, 230 
 Waters of Strength and Weakness, 
 
 237 
 
 Wednesday, legend of, 201 
 Week, Days of the, 198-205 
 Whirlwind, story of the, 226 
 Whittington's Cat,, 43-45 
 Wife, story of the Bad, 36 ; about a 
 
 Good, 43 
 Wife-Gaining Leap, stories of a, 260- 
 
 263 
 
 Witch, story of the, 163 
 Witch, story of the Dead, 20 
 Witch and Sun's Sister, story of the, 
 
 170 
 
 Witch Girl, story of the, 268 
 Witchcraft, 162-175, 268-290 
 Woe, story of, 185 
 Wolf-fiend, story of a, 371 
 Wolves, traditions about, 345 
 Women, jokes about, 36-43 
 
 Y 
 
 AGA BABA. See Baba Yaga 
 Youth, Fountain of, 59 
 
 UAR Ptitsa or Glow Bird, 284-287 
 * Zluidni, malevolent beings 
 called, 194 
 
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