Then the queen-bee answered him, “Do not touch my honey, Iván Tsarévich; at some time or other I shall be of service to you.”
So he did not touch the honey, but went farther. Then he met a lioness with her whelps. “May I eat this lion-whelp? I am so hungry!”
“Do not touch it, Iván Tsarévich,” the lioness said; “at some time or other I shall be of service to you.”
“Very well; it shall be as you will.”
So he went on hungry, and he went on and on and on, and at last he reached the house of the Bába Yagá. Round the house there were twelve poles, and on eleven of the poles there were the skulls of men: only one as yet was untenanted.
“Hail, babushka!” he said.
“Hail, Iván Tsarévich!” she replied: “what have you come for? By your own good will or for need?”
“I have come to earn of you a knightly horse.”
“Very well, Iván Tsarévich: you are to serve me not one year, but only three days. If you can guard my mares, I will give you a knightly horse; if you cannot, do not be angry, but your head must also lie on the last of the stakes.”
Iván Tsarévich agreed, and Bába Yagá gave him drink and food and bade him set to work. As soon as ever he had driven the mares into the field, they all turned their tails and ran in the meadows so far that the Tsarévich could not trace them with his eyes: and thus they were all lost. Then he sat down and wept, and became melancholy, and sat down on a stone and went to sleep.
The sun was already setting when the seabird flew to him, woke him up and said, “Arise, Iván Tsarévich—all the mares have gone home.”
The Tsarévich got up, turned back home; but Bába Yagá was angry with her mares. “Why have you all come home?”
“Why should we not come home? the birds flew down from every quarter of the sky and almost clawed out our eyes.”
“Well, tomorrow do not stray in the meadows, but scatter into the dreamy forest.”
So Iván Tsarévich passed that night; and next day Bába Yagá said to him, “Look, Iván Tsarévich, if you do not keep the mares well, if you lose one, then your false head shall nod up and down on the stake.”
So then he drove all the mares to the field, and this time they turned their tails, and they ran into the dreamy woods. And once again the Tsarévich sat on the stone and wept and wept and went to sleep, and the sun began to rest on the woods when the lioness ran up and said, “Get up, Iván Tsarévich—all the mares have been collected.” Then Iván Tsarévich got up and went home.
And Bába Yagá was angry that the mares had come home, and she called out to her mares, “Why have you all come home?”
And they answered, “How should we not come home?—wild beasts from all the four quarters of the world assembled round us and almost tore us to bits.”
“Well, you go tomorrow into the blue sea.”
Once again Iván passed the night there, and the next day Bába Yagá sent her mares to feed. “If you do not guard them, then your bold head shall hang on the pole.”
He drove the mares into the field, and they at once turned tail and vanished from his eyes and ran into the blue sea and stood up to their necks in the water. So Iván Tsarévich sat on the stone, wept and went to sleep. And the sun was already setting on the woods when the bee flew up to him and said: “Get up, Iván Tsarévich—all the mares have been gathered together. But, when you return home, do not appear before Bába Yagá; go into the stable and hide behind the crib. There there is a mangy foal who will be rolling in the dung: steal him; and, at the deep of midnight, leave the house.”
Iván Tsarévich got up, went into the stable, and lay behind the crib.
Bába Yagá made a tremendous stir and cried out to her mares: “Why did you come back?”
“How should we not come back?—all the bees from every part of the world, visible and invisible, flew round us, and they stung us till our blood flowed.”
Bába Yagá went to sleep; and that same night Iván Tsarévich stole the mangy steed from its stall, mounted it and flew to the fiery river. He reached that river, waved the cloth three times to the right; and, at once, from some strange source, a lofty, splendid bridge hung all the way over. The Tsarévich crossed the bridge, waved the cloth to the left twice, and all that was left of the bridge was a thin thread.
In the morning Bába Yagá woke up and she could not see the mangy foal, so she hunted to the chase: with all her strength she leapt into her iron mortar and she chased after with the pestle, and very soon she was on their track. When she came to the river of fire, she looked across and thought, “Ah ha ha! a fine bridge!” Then she went on to the bridge; but as soon as she got on to the bridge it snapped, and Bába Yagá slipped into the river, and it was a savage death she had.
Iván Tsarévich fed his foal on the green, and a splendid horse grew out of him; then the Tsarévich arrived at the palace of Márya Moryévna. She rushed out, fell upon his neck and said, “How has God blessed you?” And he told her how it had gone with him. “I am frightened, Iván Tsarévich; if Koshchéy catches us up you will again be torn to atoms.”
“No, he will not catch us up now; I have a fine knightly horse which flies like a bird.” So they sat on the horse and went.
Koshchéy the
