Soria Moria Castle

SORIA MORIA CASTLE

There was once upon a time a couple of folks who had a son called

Halvor. Ever since he had been a little boy he had been unwilling to do

any work, and had just sat raking about among the ashes. His parents

sent him away to learn several things, but Halvor stayed nowhere, for

when he had been gone two or three days he always ran away from his

master, hurried off home, and sat down in the chimney corner to grub

among the ashes again.

One day, however, a sea captain came and asked Halvor if he hadn’t a

fancy to come with him and go to sea, and behold foreign lands. And

Halvor had a fancy for that, so he was not long in getting ready.

How long they sailed I have no idea, but after a long, long time there

was a terrible storm, and when it was over and all had become calm

again, they knew not where they were, for they had been driven away to

a strange coast of which none of them had any knowledge.

As there was no wind at all they lay there becalmed, and Halvor asked

the skipper to give him leave to go on shore to look about him, for he

would much rather do that than lie there and sleep.

‘Dost thou think that thou art fit to go where people can see thee?’

said the skipper; ‘thou hast no clothes but those rags thou art going

about in!’

Halvor still begged for leave, and at last got it, but he was to come

back at once if the wind began to rise.

So he went on shore, and it was a delightful country; whithersoever he

went there were wide plains with fields and meadows, but as for people,

there were none to be seen. The wind began to rise, but Halvor thought

that he had not seen enough yet, and that he would like to walk about a

little longer, to try if he could not meet somebody. So after a while

he came to a great highway, which was so smooth that an egg might have

been rolled along it without breaking. Halvor followed this, and when

evening drew near he saw a big castle far away in the distance, and

there were lights in it. So as he had now been walking the whole day

and had not brought anything to eat away with him, he was frightfully

hungry. Nevertheless, the nearer he came to the castle the more afraid

he was.

A fire was burning in the castle, and Halvor went into the kitchen,

which was more magnificent than any kitchen he had ever yet beheld.

There were vessels of gold and silver, but not one human being was to

be seen. When Halvor had stood there for some time, and no one had come

out, he went in and opened a door, and inside a Princess was sitting at

her wheel spinning.

‘Nay!’ she cried, ‘can Christian folk dare to come hither? But the best

thing that you can do is to go away again, for if not the Troll will

devour you. A Troll with three heads lives here.’

‘I should have been just as well pleased if he had had four heads more,

for I should have enjoyed seeing the fellow,’ said the youth; ‘and I

won’t go away, for I have done no harm, but you must give me something

to eat, for I am frightfully hungry.’

When Halvor had eaten his fill, the Princess told him to try if he

could wield the sword which was hanging on the wall, but he could not

wield it, nor could he even lift it up.

‘Well, then, you must take a drink out of that bottle which is hanging

by its side, for that’s what the Troll does whenever he goes out and

wants to use the sword,’ said the Princess.

Halvor took a draught, and in a moment he was able to swing the sword

about with perfect ease. And now he thought it was high time for the

Troll to make his appearance, and at that very moment he came, panting

for breath.

Halvor got behind the door.

‘Hutetu!’ said the Troll as he put his head in at the door. ‘It smells

just as if there were Christian man’s blood here!’

‘Yes, you shall learn that there is!’ said Halvor, and cut off all his

heads.

The Princess was so rejoiced to be free that she danced and sang, but

then she remembered her sisters, and said: ‘If my sisters were but free

too!’

‘Where are they?’ asked Halvor.

So she told him where they were. One of them had been taken away by a

Troll to his castle, which was six miles off, and the other had been

carried off to a castle which was nine miles farther off still.

‘But now,’ said she, ‘you must first help me to get this dead body away

from here.’

Halvor was so strong that he cleared everything away, and made all

clean and tidy very quickly. So then they ate and drank, and were

happy, and next morning he set off in the grey light of dawn. He gave

himself no rest, but walked or ran the livelong day. When he came in

sight of the castle he was again just a little afraid. It was much more

splendid than the other, but here too there was not a human being to be

seen. So Halvor went into the kitchen, and did not linger there either,

but went straight in.

‘Nay! do Christian folk dare to come here?’ cried the second Princess.

‘I know not how long it is since I myself came, but during all that

time I have never seen a Christian man. It will be better for you to

depart at once, for a Troll lives here who has six heads.’

‘No, I shall not go,’ said Halvor; ‘even if he had six more I would

not.’

‘He will swallow you up alive,’ said the Princess.

But she spoke to no purpose, for Halvor would not go; he was not afraid

of the Troll, but he wanted some meat and drink, for he was hungry

after his journey. So she gave him as much as he would have, and then

she once more tried to make him go away.

‘No,’ said Halvor, ‘I will not go, for I have not done anything wrong,

and I have no reason to be afraid.’

‘He won’t ask any questions about that,’ said the Princess, ‘for he

will take you without leave or right; but as you will not go, try if

you can wield that sword which the Troll uses in battle.’

He could not brandish the sword; so the Princess said that he was to

take a draught from the flask which hung by its side, and when he had

done that he could wield the sword.

Soon afterwards the Troll came, and he was so large and stout that he

was forced to go sideways to get through the door. When the Troll got

his first head in he cried: ‘Hutetu! It smells of a Christian man’s

blood here!’

With that Halvor cut off the first head, and so on with all the rest.

The Princess was now exceedingly delighted, but then she remembered her

sisters, and wished that they too were free. Halvor thought that might

be managed, and wanted to set off immediately; but first he had to help

the Princess to remove the Troll’s body, so it was not until morning

that he set forth on his way.

It was a long way to the castle, and he both walked and ran to get

there in time. Late in the evening he caught sight of it, and it was

very much more magnificent than either of the others. And this time he

was not in the least afraid, but went into the kitchen, and then

straight on inside the castle. There a Princess was sitting, who was so

beautiful that there was never anyone to equal her. She too said what

the others had said, that no Christian folk had ever been there since

she had come, and entreated him to go away again, or else the Troll

would swallow him up alive. The Troll had nine heads, she told him.

‘Yes, and if he had nine added to the nine, and then nine more still, I

would not go away,’ said Halvor, and went and stood by the stove.

The Princess begged him very prettily to go lest the Troll should

devour him; but Halvor said, ‘Let him come when he will.’

So she gave him the Troll’s sword, and bade him take a drink from the

flask to enable him to wield it.

At that same moment the Troll came, breathing hard, and he was ever so

much bigger and stouter than either of the others, and he too was

forced to go sideways to get in through the door.

‘Hutetu! what a smell of Christian blood there is here!’ said he.

Then Halvor cut off the first head, and after that the others, but the

last was the toughest of them all, and it was the hardest work that

Halvor had ever done to get it off, but he still believed that he would

have strength enough to do it.

And now all the Princesses came to the castle, and were together again,

and they were happier than they had ever been in their lives; and they

were delighted with Halvor, and he with them, and he was to choose the

one he liked best; but of the three sisters the youngest loved him

best.

But Halvor went about and was so strange and so mournful and quiet that

the Princesses asked what it was that he longed for, and if he did not

like to be with them. He said that he did like to be with them, for

they had enough to live on, and he was very comfortable there; but he

longed to go home, for his father and mother were alive, and he had a

great desire to see them again.

They thought that this might easily be done.

‘You shall go and return in perfect safety if you will follow our

advice,’ said the Princesses.

So he said that he would do nothing that they did not wish.

Then they dressed him so splendidly that he was like a King’s son; and

they put a ring on his finger, and it was one which would enable him to

go there and back again by wishing, but they told him that he must not

throw it away, or name their names; for if he did, all his magnificence

would be at an end, and then he would never see them more.

‘If I were but at home again, or if home were but here!’ said Halvor,

and no sooner had he wished this than it was granted. Halvor was

standing outside his father and mother’s cottage before he knew what he

was about. The darkness of night was coming on, and when the father and

mother saw such a splendid and stately stranger walk in, they were so

startled that they both began to bow and curtsey.

Halvor then inquired if he could stay there and have lodging for the

night. No, that he certainly could not. ‘We can give you no such

accommodation,’ they said, ‘for we have none of the things that are

needful when a great lord like you is to be entertained. It will be

better for you to go up to the farm. It is not far off, you can see the

chimney-pots from here, and there they have plenty of everything.’

Halvor would not hear of that, he was absolutely determined to stay

where he was; but the old folks stuck to what they had said, and told

him that he was to go to the farm, where he could get both meat and

drink, whereas they themselves had not even a chair to offer him.

‘No,’ said Halvor, ‘I will not go up there till early to-morrow

morning; let me stay here to-night. I can sit down on the hearth.’

They could say nothing against that, so Halvor sat down on the hearth,

and began to rake about among the ashes just as he had done before,

when he lay there idling away his time.

They chattered much about many things, and told Halvor of this and of

that, and at last he asked them if they had never had any child.

‘Yes,’ they said; they had had a boy who was called Halvor, but they

did not know where he had gone, and they could not even say whether he

were dead or alive.

‘Could I be he?’ said Halvor.

‘I should know him well enough,’ said the old woman rising. ‘Our Halvor

was so idle and slothful that he never did anything at all, and he was

so ragged that one hole ran into another all over his clothes. Such a

fellow as he was could never turn into such a man as you are, sir.’

In a short time the old woman had to go to the fireplace to stir the

fire, and when the blaze lit up Halvor, as it used to do when he was at

home raking up the ashes, she knew him again.

‘Good Heavens! is that you, Halvor?’ said she, and such great gladness

fell on the old parents that there were no bounds to it. And now he had

to relate everything that had befallen him, and the old woman was so

delighted with him that she would take him up to the farm at once to

show him to the girls who had formerly looked down on him so. She went

there first, and Halvor followed her. When she got there she told them

how Halvor had come home again, and now they should just see how

magnificent he was. ‘He looks like a prince,’ she said.

‘We shall see that he is just the same ragamuffin that he was before,’

said the girls, tossing their heads.

At that same moment Halvor entered, and the girls were so astonished

that they left their kirtles lying in the chimney corner, and ran away

in nothing but their petticoats. When they came in again they were so

shamefaced that they hardly dared to look at Halvor, towards whom they

had always been so proud and haughty before.

‘Ay, ay! you have always thought that you were so pretty and dainty

that no one was equal to you,’ said Halvor, ‘but you should just see

the eldest Princess whom I set free. You look like herds-women compared

with her, and the second Princess is also much prettier than you; but

the youngest, who is my sweetheart, is more beautiful than either sun

or moon. I wish to Heaven they were here, and then you would see them.’

Scarcely had he said this before they were standing by his side, but

then he was very sorrowful, for the words which they had said to him

came to his mind.

Up at the farm a great feast was made ready for the Princesses, and

much respect paid to them, but they would not stay there.

‘We want to go down to your parents,’ they said to Halvor, ‘so we will

go out and look about us.’

He followed them out, and they came to a large pond outside the

farm-house. Very near the water there was a pretty green bank, and

there the Princesses said they would sit down and while away an hour,

for they thought that it would be pleasant to sit and look out over the

water, they said.

There they sat down, and when they had sat for a short time the

youngest Princess said, ‘I may as well comb your hair a little,

Halvor.’

So Halvor laid his head down on her lap, and she combed it, and it was

not long before he fell asleep. Then she took her ring from him and put

another in its place, and then she said to her sisters: ‘Hold me as I

am holding you. I would that we were at Soria Moria Castle.’

When Halvor awoke he knew that he had lost the Princesses, and began to

weep and lament, and was so unhappy that he could not be comforted. In

spite of all his father’s and mother’s entreaties, he would not stay,

but bade them farewell, saying that he would never see them more, for

if he did not find the Princess again he did not think it worth while

to live.

He again had three hundred dollars, which he put into his pocket and

went on his way. When he had walked some distance he met a man with a

tolerably good horse. Halvor longed to buy it, and began to bargain

with the man.

‘Well, I have not exactly been thinking of selling him,’ said the man,

‘but if we could agree, perhaps——’

Halvor inquired how much he wanted to have for the horse.

‘I did not give much for him, and he is not worth much; he is a capital

horse to ride, but good for nothing at drawing; but he will always be

able to carry your bag of provisions and you too, if you walk and ride

by turns.’ At last they agreed about the price, and Halvor laid his bag

on the horse, and sometimes he walked and sometimes he rode. In the

evening he came to a green field, where stood a great tree, under which

he seated himself. Then he let the horse loose and lay down to sleep,

but before he did that he took his bag off the horse. At daybreak he

set off again, for he did not feel as if he could take any rest. So he

walked and rode the whole day, through a great wood where there were

many green places which gleamed very prettily among the trees. He did

not know where he was or whither he was going, but he never lingered

longer in any place than was enough to let his horse get a little food

when they came to one of these green spots, while he himself took out

his bag of provisions.

So he walked and he rode, and it seemed to him that the wood would

never come to an end. But on the evening of the second day he saw a

light shining through the trees.

‘If only there were some people up there I might warm myself and get

something to eat,’ thought Halvor.

When he got to the place where the light had come from, he saw a

wretched little cottage, and through a small pane of glass he saw a

couple of old folks inside. They were very old, and as grey-headed as a

pigeon, and the old woman had such a long nose that she sat in the

chimney corner and used it to stir the fire.

‘Good evening! good evening!’ said the old hag; ‘but what errand have

you that can bring you here? No Christian folk have been here for more

than a hundred years.’

So Halvor told her that he wanted to get to Soria Moria Castle, and

inquired if she knew the way thither.

‘No,’ said the old woman, ‘that I do not, but the Moon will be here

presently, and I will ask her, and she will know. She can easily see

it, for she shines on all things.’

So when the Moon stood clear and bright above the tree-tops the old

woman went out. ‘Moon! Moon!’ she screamed. ‘Canst thou tell me the way

to Soria Moria Castle?’

‘No,’ said the Moon, ‘that I can’t, for when I shone there, there was a

cloud before me.’

‘Wait a little longer,’ said the old woman to Halvor, ‘for the West

Wind will presently be here, and he will know it, for he breathes

gently or blows into every corner.’

‘What! have you a horse too?’ she said when she came in again. ‘Oh! let

the poor creature loose in our bit of fenced-in pasture, and don’t let

it stand there starving at our very door. But won’t you exchange him

with me? We have a pair of old boots here with which you can go fifteen

quarters of a mile at each step. You shall have them for the horse, and

then you will be able to get sooner to Soria Moria Castle.’

Halvor consented to this at once, and the old woman was so delighted

with the horse that she was ready to dance. ‘For now I, too, shall be

able to ride to church,’ she said. Halvor could take no rest, and

wanted to set off immediately; but the old woman said that there was no

need to hasten. ‘Lie down on the bench and sleep a little, for we have

no bed to offer you,’ said she, ‘and I will watch for the coming of the

West Wind.’

Ere long came the West Wind, roaring so loud that the walls creaked.

The old woman went out and cried:

‘West Wind! West Wind! Canst thou tell me the way to Soria Moria

Castle? Here is one who would go thither.’

‘Yes, I know it well,’ said the West Wind. ‘I am just on my way there

to dry the clothes for the wedding which is to take place. If he is

fleet of foot he can go with me.’

Out ran Halvor.

‘You will have to make haste if you mean to go with me,’ said the West

Wind; and away it went over hill and dale, and moor and morass, and

Halvor had enough to do to keep up with it.

‘Well, now I have no time to stay with you any longer,’ said the West

Wind, ‘for I must first go and tear down a bit of spruce fir before I

go to the bleaching-ground to dry the clothes; but just go along the

side of the hill, and you will come to some girls who are standing

there washing clothes, and then you will not have to walk far before

you are at Soria Moria Castle.’

Shortly afterwards Halvor came to the girls who were standing washing,

and they asked him if he had seen anything of the West Wind, who was to

come there to dry the clothes for the wedding.

‘Yes,’ said Halvor, ‘he has only gone to break down a bit of spruce

fir. It won’t be long before he is here.’ And then he asked them the

way to Soria Moria Castle. They put him in the right way, and when he

came in front of the castle it was so full of horses and people that it

swarmed with them. But Halvor was so ragged and torn with following the

West Wind through bushes and bogs that he kept on one side, and would

not go among the crowd until the last day, when the feast was to be

held at noon.

So when, as was the usage and custom, all were to drink to the bride

and the young girls who were present, the cup-bearer filled the cup for

each in turn, both bride and bridegroom, and knights and servants, and

at last, after a very long time, he came to Halvor. He drank their

health, and then slipped the ring which the Princess had put on his

finger when they were sitting by the waterside into the glass, and

ordered the cup-bearer to carry the glass to the bride from him and

greet her.

Then the Princess at once rose up from the table, and said, ‘Who is

most worthy to have one of us—he who has delivered us from the Trolls

or he who is sitting here as bridegroom?’

There could be but one opinion as to that, everyone thought, and when

Halvor heard what they said he was not long in flinging off his

beggar’s rags and arraying himself as a bridegroom.

‘Yes, he is the right one,’ cried the youngest Princess when she caught

sight of him; so she flung the other out of the window and held her

wedding with Halvor.[2]

[2] From P. C. Asbjørnsen.

THE DEATH OF KOSHCHEI THE DEATHLESS

In a certain kingdom there lived a Prince Ivan. He had three sisters.

The first was the Princess Marya, the second the Princess 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!’

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 interfere 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.

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 storm-cloud, 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 home, but they hadn’t had time to sit down when the

thunder 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.’

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.

‘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 house-keeping affairs

to Prince Ivan, and gave him these instructions:

‘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 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 inquiring 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 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:

‘I 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 silver fork. 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.’

‘Hard will it be for you to find her,’ replied the Raven. ‘Anyhow,

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:

‘Oh, Prince Ivan! why did you disobey me and go looking into the closet

and letting out Koshchei the Deathless?’

‘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:

‘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 Morevna. 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.’

‘Is it possible to catch them?’

‘It is possible to sow barley, to wait till it grows up, to reap it 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 thou any ill?’

‘Prince Ivan has come and has carried off Marya Morevna.’

Koshchei galloped off, caught Prince Ivan, chopped him into little

pieces, put them into 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 articles 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!’

‘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?’

‘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 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.

‘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 an heroic steed.’

‘So be it, Prince! You won’t have to serve a year with me, but just

three days. If you take good care of my mares, I’ll give you an heroic

steed. But if you don’t—why, then you mustn’t be annoyed at finding

your head stuck on top of the last pole up there.’

Prince Ivan agreed to these terms. The Baba Yaga gave him food and

drink, and bade him set about his business. But the moment he had

driven the mares afield, they cocked up their tails, and away they tore

across the meadows in all directions. Before the Prince had time to

look round they were all out of sight. Thereupon he began to weep and

to disquiet himself, and then he sat down upon a stone and went to

sleep. But when the sun was near its setting the outlandish bird came

flying up to him, and awakened him, saying:

‘Arise, Prince Ivan! The mares are at home now.’

The Prince arose and returned home. There the Baba Yaga was storming

and raging at her mares, and shrieking:

‘Whatever did ye come home for?’

‘How could we help coming home?’ said they. ‘There came flying birds

from every part of the world, and all but pecked our eyes out.’

‘Well, well! to-morrow don’t go galloping over the meadows, but

disperse amid the thick forests.’

Prince Ivan slept all night. In the morning the Baba Yaga says to him:

‘Mind, Prince! if you don’t take good care of the mares, if you lose

merely one of them—your bold head will be stuck on that pole!’

He drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their tails and

dispersed among the thick forests. Again did the Prince sit down on the

stone, weep and weep, and then go to sleep. The sun went down behind

the forest. Up came running the lioness.

‘Arise, Prince Ivan! The mares are all collected.’

Prince Ivan arose and went home. More than ever did the Baba Yaga storm

at her mares and shriek:

‘Whatever did ye come back home for?’

‘How could we help coming back? Beasts of prey came running at us from

all parts of the world, and all but tore us utterly to pieces.’

‘Well, to-morrow run off into the blue sea.’

Again did Prince Ivan sleep through the night. Next morning the Baba

Yaga sent him forth to watch the mares.

‘If you don’t take good care of them,’ says she, ‘your bold head will

be stuck on that pole!’

He drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their tails,

disappeared from sight, and fled into the blue sea. There they stood,

up to their necks in water. Prince Ivan sat down on the stone, wept,

and fell asleep. But when the sun had set behind the forest, up came

flying a bee, and said:

‘Arise, Prince! The mares are all collected. But when you get home,

don’t let the Baba Yaga set eyes on you, but go into the stable and

hide behind the mangers. There you will find a sorry colt rolling in

the muck. Do you steal it, and at the dead of night ride away from the

house.’

Prince Ivan arose, slipped into the stable, and lay down behind the

mangers, while the Baba Yaga was storming away at her mares and

shrieking:

‘Why did ye come back?’

‘How could we help coming back? There came flying bees in countless

numbers from all parts of the world, and began stinging us on all sides

till the blood came!’

The Baba Yaga went to sleep. In the dead of the night Prince Ivan stole

the sorry colt, saddled it, jumped on its back, and galloped away to

the fiery river. When he came to that river he waved the handkerchief

three times on the right hand, and suddenly, springing goodness knows

whence, there hung across the river, high in the air, a splendid

bridge. The Prince rode across the bridge and waved the handkerchief

twice only on the left hand; there remained across the river a thin,

ever so thin a bridge!

When the Baba Yaga got up in the morning the sorry colt was not to be

seen! Off she set in pursuit. At full speed did she fly in her iron

mortar, urging it on with the pestle, sweeping away her traces with the

broom. She dashed up to the fiery river, gave a glance, and said, ‘A

capital bridge!’ She drove on to the bridge, but had only got half-way

when the bridge broke in two, and the Baba Yaga went flop into the

river. There truly did she meet with a cruel death!

Prince Ivan fattened up the colt in the green meadows, and it turned

into a wondrous steed. Then he rode to where Marya Morevna was. She

came running out, and flung herself on his neck, crying:

‘By what means has God brought you back to life?’

‘Thus and thus,’ says he. ‘Now come along with me.’

‘I am afraid, Prince Ivan! If Koshchei catches us you will be cut in

pieces again.’

‘No, he won’t catch us! I have a splendid heroic steed now; it flies

just like a bird.’ So they got on its back and rode away.

Koshchei the Deathless was returning home when his horse stumbled

beneath him.

‘What art thou stumbling for, sorry jade? Dost thou scent any ill?’

‘Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.’

‘Can we catch them?’

‘God knows! Prince Ivan has a horse now which is better than I.’

‘Well, I can’t stand it,’ says Koshchei the Deathless. ‘I will pursue.’

After a time he came up with Prince Ivan, lighted on the ground, and

was going to chop him up with his sharp sword. But at that moment

Prince Ivan’s horse smote Koshchei the Deathless full swing with its

hoof, and cracked his skull, and the Prince made an end of him with a

club. Afterwards the Prince heaped up a pile of wood, set fire to it,

burnt Koshchei the Deathless on the pyre, and scattered his ashes to

the wind. Then Marya Morevna mounted Koshchei’s horse and Prince Ivan

got on his own, and they rode away to visit first the Raven, and then

the Eagle, and then the Falcon. Wherever they went they met with a

joyful greeting.

‘Ah, Prince Ivan! why, we never expected to see you again. Well, it

wasn’t for nothing that you gave yourself so much trouble. Such a

beauty as Marya Morevna one might search for all the world over—and

never find one like her!’

And so they visited, and they feasted; and afterwards they went off to

their own realm.[3]

[3] Ralston.