Marya Morevna

Marya Morevna

MARYA MOREVNA.[101]

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 favor 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 stormcloud with whirlwind

and lightning.

"Let us go home, sisters!" cried 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 favor 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 stormcloud,

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[102] 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 to 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 favor 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 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 or 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 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 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!"

"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 favorable 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[103]

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 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."

"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, 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.[104]

With the Baba Yaga, the feminine counterpart of Koshchei and the

Snake, we shall deal presently, and the Waters of Life and Death will

find special notice elsewhere.[105] 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, Marya 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

reference to a similar Amazon.[106] In one of the variants of the

story the representative of Marya Morevna fights the hero before she

marries him.[107] 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,[108] in which Koshchei's part

is played by a Snake, the hero's sisters are carried off by their

feathered admirers without his leave being asked--an omission for

which a full apology is afterwards made; in another, the history of

"Fedor Tugarin and Anastasia the Fair,"[109] 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 "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,[110] 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,[111] 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 "Fitchers 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 Hausmärchen," 1851, No. 19), in which the

  hero opens a forbidden door--that of a

  summer-house--and sees "deep down below him the 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 Corune" (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" (Löwe's "Ehstnische Märchen,"

  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, Tönnis 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 blood, 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 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 "Kathásaritságara," 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 recognizes his first love, he approaches a horse

  which is grazing beside a lake. The horse kicks him

  into the water; he sinks deep--and comes 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 acquainted. 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 Vidyádharí. In an instant the

  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 stories 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--