The Russian Story Book 4

The Russian Story Book 4

By this time Cloudfall was again passing through the air swifter

than a falcon in its flight, though his progress was somewhat stayed

when he reached the outer rim of the watching host. Ilya brandished

his oak, and bringing it down with one mighty blow after another

cleared a path through the host as a hurricane makes a lane through

a forest. Through the pathway Cloudfall passed, alighting upon the

earth again and again, and leaving wherever he touched the host a

heap of prostrate warriors. So did Ilya the Old Cossáck pass through

the great host of Tatars, the enemies of Holy Russia.

 

When the hero came to the gates of Chernigof he found them strongly

barred, and a keen watch kept against the armies of the Tatars, who

were reported to be advancing upon the city. The wall was lofty and

broad, but not too high for Cloudfall, who leapt over it with ease,

to the great astonishment of the guards and of the leaders who stood

on one of the towers in earnest council. Ilya alighted in the broad

courtyard of the church, and entering the holy place found the citizens

assembled for prayer, which they hoped might avert the approaching

calamity or fortify them for the endurance of a cruel death.

 

Then Ilya stood forth amongst them and said boldly, "Ye traders of

Chernigof, and citizens all, why do you pray when the time is come for

action? Why do you meet together to bid farewell to the white world

with all its joys?" Then one of the merchants, who was very richly

dressed, explained to Ilya, as if he were quite ignorant of outside

affairs, how the city was at that moment besieged by the Tatars. Ilya

made a slight gesture of impatience and disgust, "Go out," he said,

"upon the broad wall of your famous city, and look towards the open

steppe."

 

Then some of the men and a few of the bolder maidens went out upon

the ramparts, and in the place where the Tatar banners had stood

like a forest, the accursed foes lay in great heaps of slain. Upon

this the men of the city bowed themselves before Ilya and begged for

the honour of his name. They also besought him to stay with them

and be their Tsar, and that he would accept at their hands a bowl

of pure red gold, another of shining silver, and a third of fine

seed pearls. "Nay, I ask no gifts from you," said Ilya, "though I

may possibly have earned them, nor will I stay to be your Tsar. Go

on with your lives as of old, my brothers, but grant the favour of

showing me the straight way to Kiev town."

 

Again they bowed before him, and one of them, speaking for the

others, said, "It is twice as far by the circling path as it is by

the straight way, but you must take the longer journey, for athwart

the straight way lie three barriers; and the road is so lonely that

the grey wolf and the black raven avoid it, for it is deserted even

by the dead. The first mighty barrier is a range of lofty mountains;

the second is a rushing river of enormous breadth, bordered by the

Black Morass; and the third is Nightingale the Robber.

 

"His enormous nest is built upon the tops of seven oaks which saw

the dawn of history. When he whistles like a nightingale, roars like

a lion, and hisses like a serpent, the trees bow themselves to the

earth, the green leaves wither, and both horse and rider fall to the

ground as if they were dead."

 

This was enough to stir the soul of the heroic Ilya, who forthwith

mounted his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall, and rode out upon the

straight way. In due time he came to the lofty mountain range; but

this barrier was not likely to prove insurmountable to the shaggy bay

steed which soared above it like an eagle in its flight. Then they

came to the broad rushing river with the Black Morass by its margin,

and Ilya, dismounting, wrenched great oak trees from the trembling

grasp of moist Mother Earth and flung them before him with one hand

while he led Cloudfall over these bridges which he had made with the

other. Soon they came to the broad water, and when Ilya had mounted,

the shaggy bay steed cleared its rushing current in a single leap.

 

At last they came to the third barrier, no less than Nightingale the

Robber, who was known also as the Magic Bird. As Ilya drew near to his

oak trees, Nightingale thrust his head out of the nest and sent forth

tongues of flame and showers of sparks from his mouth and nostrils;

but this terrible sight had no effect upon the stout heart of the

heroic Ilya. Nightingale the Robber therefore began to sing like

a bird, varying this entertainment with the roar of a lion and the

spiteful hiss of a dragon; and at last the combination of sounds was

too much even for Cloudfall. The shaggy bay steed began to tremble

with great violence, and then fell upon his knees, whereupon Ilya

proceeded to beat him without mercy.

 

"You grass-bag," he cried in his anger, "you wolf-carrion, have you

never passed through a gloomy forest and heard the song of a bird,

the roar of a wild beast, and the hiss of a serpent? See how easily

I shall overcome the Magic Bird!"

 

Then Ilya went up to a willow tree that overhung a brook, broke off a

twig, and fitted it to his bow, in order that he might keep his vow to

abstain from using his fiery darts. And as he drew his bow-string he

cried, "Fly, dart, fly! Pierce the left eye of Nightingale the Robber,

and come out at his right ear."

 

Swish! went the magic dart. Cloudfall rose to his feet, and Nightingale

the Robber fell from his nest in the old oaks and dumped down upon

the lap of moist Mother Earth like an enormous sack of wheat. Then

Ilya the Old Cossáck lifted the pestilent thief from the ground by

his yellow curling hair, bound him securely to his stirrup, and went

on his way once more.

 

By and by they came to the palace of the Magic Bird, where he used to

retire with his spoils which he had won in the forest. It was built

on seven pillars, and had a courtyard surrounded by an iron paling on

each spike of which was the head of a luckless hero, for many brave

men had tried to do the deed which Ilya was now performing. Round

about the house were the greenest of gardens with loveliest flowers

of every hue, and in the midst of these gardens was an orchard with

heavily laden fruit trees. From the latticed casements of the palace

looked forth the children of the Magic Bird, and when they saw Ilya

approaching on his shaggy bay steed they cried out together, "See,

Mother, here comes our Father leading a man at his stirrup. Shall we

have the captive for dinner?"

 

But Elena, one of the children of the Magic Bird, had only one eye

and therefore was a witch; and when she looked out from her own

particular latticed casement she saw what had really happened and

spoke the truth. "Nay, children," she cried, "it is Ilya the Old

Cossáck on his shaggy bay steed Cloudfall, and he rides towards us,

bringing our Father as a prisoner."

 

"Crick! Crock! Crack!" cried the children in a croaking chorus;

"we will at once change ourselves into ravens and rend that peasant

hero in pieces with our beaks of iron. Then shall the fragments of

his white body be scattered on the bosom of moist Mother Earth." But

Nightingale the Robber, who was not yet dead, shouted out a command

that no harm was to be done to Ilya the Old Cossáck. This order,

however, had no effect upon the one-eyed daughter, who ran quickly

into the courtyard, tore up a heavy steel beam from the threshold,

and raising it aloft, hurled it at Ilya with all her strength.

 

So fierce was the attack of the one-eyed witch-daughter of Nightingale

the Robber, that even Ilya, whose saddle-seat was so secure, wavered

for a moment, and it was only with great difficulty and much skill

that he was able to avoid the full force of the angry blow. Then he

leapt lightly from his shaggy bay steed and, remembering his vow,

raised his right foot and caught the witch with the full force of his

outstretched toe. Up she went into the air, higher than the height

of a great cathedral, higher than the cross upon its topmost dome,

and then she fell down with a bony rattle against the rear wall of

the courtyard, and her skin burst with a sharp crack.

 

"Fools all!" shouted Nightingale the Robber. "Fools now and

always! Fetch from the cellar a heaped-up waggon-load of red gold,

another of white silver, and a third of fine seed pearls. Give all

these treasures to Ilya the Old Cossáck, and to Cloudfall, his shaggy

bay steed, and see if these fine gifts will not induce him to set me

free in a trice. Ha, ha!"

 

But Nightingale the Robber chuckled too soon, for Ilya said in a voice

that showed no doubtfulness, "If I should plant my lofty spear in the

bosom of moist Mother Earth, and if you were to heap up about it red

gold, white silver, and fine seed pearls until not even the sharp tip

of it could be seen, yet would I not set you free, Nightingale the

Robber, you pestilent thief and father of stealing. You shall come

with me forthwith to the glorious town of Kiev, and there you shall

receive such forgiveness as you deserve."

 

Then Ilya mounted Cloudfall once more, and the shaggy bay steed

began to prance while Nightingale the Robber began to dance; and thus

prancing and dancing they came to Kiev, the city of Prince Vladimir.

 

When they arrived the Prince was in the cathedral, and hearing this,

Ilya went at once to the sacred courtyard, where he fastened Cloudfall

to a golden ring in a tall carven pillar, and said to him, "Keep

watch and ward upon Nightingale the Robber, Cloudfall, my faithful

shaggy bay steed, and see that he escapes not from my stirrup of

damascened steel." Then to the Magic Bird he spoke, "Presume not,

Nightingale the Robber, to depart from the side of my good charger,

for there is no place in all the white world where you will be hidden

from my searching."

 

Then in fulfilment of his first vow Ilya went to the church for the

Easter mass; and when he saw Prince Vladimir among the worshippers, he

made obeisance to him, but not before he had devoutly crossed himself

and done reverence to North, South, East, and West. When the mass had

been celebrated, Prince Vladimir sent to summon the stranger hero to

his Easter feast; and obedient to the invitation which was really a

command, Ilya went to the royal palace, where the Prince asked him

to which horde and country he belonged, and who were his parents.

 

"Sire," said Ilya, "I am the honourable son of honourable parents

who reap their own meadow to feed their own beasts in their own farm,

surrounded by the pine forest of Murom. Now as I greeted my Risen Lord

at matins this morning, I vowed to come hither by the straight way,

and I came."

 

The speaker ceased, and the group of heroes, warriors, notabilities,

and fair ladies who stood near the Prince stared at him in unbelieving

astonishment.

 

"Good youth," said Prince Vladimir, "you are fair to look upon,

but none the less you must be a son of the Father of Lies. Why, the

straight way has been lost for thirty years, and all men know of

it is that athwart it lie great barriers. There are in the plains

great hordes of accursed Tatars, the enemies of Holy Russia; then

there is a broad rushing river bordered by the Black Morass; and,

last of all, among the shining birches, on the top of seven great

oaks which saw the dawn of history, is raised the nest of Nightingale

the Robber. Moreover, that Magic Bird hath nine strong sons and eight

ugly daughters, of whom one has only a single eye, and is therefore

a witch. Now Nightingale the Robber hath permitted neither horse nor man to pass by him for thirty years."