burn me on the pile, it can be done; then I should be overcome. Only you must burn me in a cunning way. Out of my belly snakes, worms and all sorts of reptiles will creep; jackdaws, magpies and crows will fly: you must catch them and throw them on the pile. If a single worm escapes, it will be no good, for I shall creep out into that worm.”
So the soldier listened and remembered. So they had a long talk, and at last they came to the grave.
“Now, my brother,” said the wizard, “I am going to tear you to bits! Otherwise you will tell the tale!”
“Now! Let’s argue this out! How are you going to tear me to bits; I am a servant of God and the Tsar!”
So the wizard gnashed his teeth, howled, and threw himself on the soldier. But he drew out his sabre and dealt a backstroke. They tussled and struggled, and the soldier was almost exhausted. Ho, but this is a sorry ending! Then the cocks crowed and the wizard fell down breathless.
The soldier got the bladders out of the wizard’s pockets, and went to his relations. He went in and he greeted them. And they asked him, “Have you ever seen such a fearful stir?”
“No, I never have!”
“Why, have you not heard? There is a curse on our village: a wizard haunts it.”
So they lay down and went to sleep.
In the morning the soldier rose and began asking: “Is it true that there was a wedding celebrated here?”
So his kin answered him, “There was a wedding at the rich peasant’s house, only the bride and bridegroom died that same night. No, we don’t know at all of what they died.”
“Where is the house?”
So they showed him, and he said never a word, and went there, got there, and found the whole family in tears.
“What are you wailing for?”
So they told him the reason.
“I can revive the bridal couple: what will you give me?”
“Oh, you may take half of our possessions.”
So the soldier did as the wizard had bidden him, and he revived the bride and bridegroom, and grief was turned to joy and merriment.
They feasted the soldier and rewarded him.
So he then turned sharp to the left and marched up to the stárosta7 and bade him assemble all the peasants and prepare one hundred cartloads of aspen boughs. Then they brought the boughs into the cemetery, put them into a pile and raised the wizard out of the grave, put him on the faggots and burned him. And then all the people stood around, some with brushes, shovels and pokers. The pile lit up gaily and the wizard began to burn. His belly burst, and out of it crept snakes, worms and vermin of all sorts, and there flew jackdaws and magpies. But the peasants beat them all into the fire as they came out, and did not let a single worm escape. So the wizard was burned, and the soldier collected his dust and scattered it to the four winds. Henceforth there was peace in the village.
And the peasants thanked the soldier.
He stayed in his country, stayed there until he was satisfied, and then with his money returned to the imperial service: he served his term, went on the retired list, and then lived out his life, living happily, loving the good things and shunning the ill.
The Bear, the Dog, and the Cat
Once there lived a peasant who had a good dog, and as the dog grew old it left off barking and guarding the yard and the storehouses: its master would no longer nourish it, so the dog went into the wood and lay under a tree to die.
Then a bear came up and asked him, “Hello, Dog, why are you lying here?”
“I have come to die of hunger. You see how unjust people are. As long as you have any strength, they feed you and give you drink; but when your strength dies away and you become old they drive you from the courtyard.”
“Well, Dog, would you like something to eat?”
“I certainly should.”
“Well, come with me; I will feed you.”
So they went on.
On the way a foal met them.
“Look at me,” said the bear, and he began to claw the ground with his paws. “Dog, O dog!”
“What do you want?”
“Look, are my eyes beautiful?”
“Yes, Bear, they are beautiful.”
So the bear began clawing at the ground more savagely still. “Dog, O dog, is my hair dishevelled?”
“It is dishevelled, Bear.”
“Dog, O dog, is my tail raised?”
“Yes, it is raised.”
Then the bear laid hold of the foal by the tail, and the foal fell to the ground. The bear tore her to pieces and said, “Well, Dog, eat as much as you will, and when everything is in order, come and see me.”
So the dog lived by himself and had no cares, and when he had eaten all and was again hungry, he ran up to the bear.
“Well, my brother, have you done?”
“Yes, I have done, and again I am hungry.”
“What! Are you hungry again? Do you know where your old mistress lives?”
“I do.”
“Well, then, come; I will steal your mistress’s child out of the cradle, and do you chase me away and take the child back. Then you may go back; she will go on feeding you, as she formerly did, with bread.”
So they agreed, and the bear ran up to the hut himself and stole the child out of the cradle: the child cried, and the woman burst out, hunted him, hunted him, but could not catch him; so they came back, and the mother wept, and the other women were afflicted; from somewhere or other the dog appeared, and he drove the bear away, took the child and brought it back.
“Look,” said the woman, “here is your old dog restoring your child!” So they ran to meet him, and the mother was very glad and joyous. “Now,” she said,