The Russian Story Book 13

The Russian Story Book 13

"I could do nothing in honour but fight," was the reply. "For

the inscription on the lock denied life to those who entered this

pavilion. It was but an invitation to an adventurer from the court

of Vladimir."

 

"You did well, Nikitich," said Ilya with a deep laugh in his eyes,

"to defend yourself against such odds, for a hero is no hero who is

not able to defend his own." Then he paused and looked at both of

the combatants, who presented a sorry spectacle. After that he looked

round about the wrecked pavilion which had been intended as a place

of entertainment for heroes and bold warrior maids.

 

"It will be well, Nikitich," he said quietly, "if you stay to be

invited to the next feast that is laid in this pavilion, and well for

you, Alyosha, if you do not tempt brave men by forbidding them. Come

now, calm your heroic turbulent hearts and swear brotherhood with

exchange of crosses." Then the two heroes swore eternal friendship

with the exchange of crosses, and they all set out for the court

of Vladimir, who when he saw them and heard their story laughed in

his beard.

 

"It is not wise, Nikitich," he said, "to expect to win a bride in

each day's adventure."

 

Then they went in to supper, and Ilya of Murom sat in the great corner

that night and it was he who told the tale.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HOW THE COURT OF VLADIMIR RECEIVED A VISITOR FROM INDIA THE GLORIOUS

 

 

From far beyond the deep blue sea, from India the Glorious, came

Lord Diuk the son of Stephen. Like a white hawk his ship skimmed

lightly across the heaving waters, and like a white ermine coursing he

rode across the boundless open plain. As he rode jauntily onward his

bow-case and his quiver beat against his hips, and like a flaming arrow

from that same bow was the speed of his good steed, Rough-Coat. His

helmet and his armour were of gleaming silver, his shirt of mail,

close fitting, was of ruddy gold woven in chains as fine as silk from

Samarcand. When he came to a river he asked for no bridge or ford,

for Rough-Coat leapt from shore to shore at a single bound.

 

Now as Lord Diuk rode onward he hunted, and the foxes, martens,

eagles, geese, white swans and downy ducks knew and told each other

by their cries that a practised hunter was abroad. When an arrow sped

from his bow a shaft of light seemed to rend the heavens, and where

the flaming darts fell to earth a radiance streamed as from the pale

cold moon shining across the white world of the snowy steppe. He shot

three times a hundred arrows and three times one, and though he found

the three hundred shafts he did not find the three; and this appeared

to him to be a very great wonder.

 

"The three arrows which I have lost," he said to himself, "are of

priceless value. They were made of the graceful reeds and were covered

with gold beaten finer than the parchment of the holy monks, and set

with precious stones so that in their flight they shone like the rays

of the sun at early dawn. The feathers were those of the blue-grey

eagle, which is swifter in its flight than all the birds of the air,

and flies across the deep blue sea to visit its eyrie on the tall

burning white stone which flashes for a thousand miles. Its feathers

are hard to come by, being more precious than satin or cut velvet,

or silk from Samarcand."

 

Thinking deeply and somewhat depressed at his heavy loss, Diuk once

more mounted Rough-Coat and gave him the rein for home. As he sped

onward he overtook a company of one and thirty wandering pilgrims,

and reining in his horse demanded:

 

"Ho, there, you greybeards, are you thieves or robbers or travellers,

midnight prowlers or plunderers of churches?"

 

Then the psalm-singers replied:

 

"Young Diuk, we are neither thieves, nor robbers, prowlers nor

plunderers of churches, but pilgrims on the long journey from Kiev

town to India the Glorious."

 

"Is the journey long?" asked Diuk in a more respectful tone.

 

"We have indeed come a long way from Kiev town," was the quiet

answer. "It is a journey of a year on foot and then three months on

the bosom of the deep blue sea."

 

With a low reverence to the holy pilgrims, Diuk rode to his home,

which he reached in a short space of time; and on the next day after

having been to vespers he sought out his lady mother.

 

"Mother mine," he said, "must I stay always at home engaged in

childish pursuits while my manhood calls me, calls me ever and ever

more loudly across the boundless plain? I ought to ride with head

aloft and shoulders squared upon my dapple bay steed Rough-Coat, and

prove my manhood by my fearless deeds. I have seen some fair cities,

but never have I seen Kiev the Great nor beheld with my own eyes the

beauty of the Princess Apraxia whom all men praise. Give me leave,

lady mother, leave and your good blessing, and let me go to Kiev town

at once and now."

 

Then the mother's heart grew tender, and in her eagerness to keep

him by her side she magnified the dangers of the way and thus, all

unknowing, added to his eagerness to go.

 

"Alas, my dear son," she said, "you have not yet ridden far across the

boundless plain nor heard the roar of the wild beast and the fierce cry

of the accursed Tatar. Never will you return in safety from the dangers

of the open steppe. As for Kiev, the city of Vladimir, the people of

that place are not worthy to keep company with such as you. They will

look upon you as a purse to be picked, for they are traders, sons of

merchants, traffickers in goods which your forefathers would win with

sword and mace and lance. I will not give you leave and blessing to

go to the Court of Vladimir, that ruler of shop-keepers."

 

Diuk's eyes had gleamed as his mother spoke of the way in which his

ancestors had won their wealth; and seeing this she tried another

course.

 

"Besides," she went on quickly, "there are three great barriers on the

way to Kiev city. The first is the barrier of the moving mountains,

which clash together and catch the unwary traveller in their strong

grip. The second is the barrier of the ravenous birds, which will

tear thee and thy good steed to a thousand pieces. The third barrier

is the Mountain Dragon with twelve tails, each with a sting in it. He

will devour you if indeed you have been fortunate enough to pass the

clashing mountains and the ravenous birds."

 

Each fresh terror which she described added to the young man's

eagerness to set out upon the journey to Kiev town; and having done

reverence to his weeping mother he went to the stable and combed the

coat of his faithful steed with a fine comb of fishes' teeth, as well

as the mane and tail, which brushed the bosom of moist Mother Earth as

he passed on his flight and swept away all traces of his hoofs. Then

he saddled his good horse and plaited bright jewels in his mane,

standing off to admire his handiwork, speaking meanwhile to the animal

in human speech; and in human speech the horse replied to him saying:

 

"Tear not my sides with spurs, dear master; lash me not with your

whip of silk; tighten not the bridle upon my faithful head; but when

I speed cling to my mane and fear not when I leap from mountain-top

to mountain-top, when I clear a great lake at a bound and a river at

an easy jump. So shall I be your friend and helper as was Cloudfall

to Ilya of Murom the Old Cossáck."

 

Then Diuk prepared himself for the heroic journey and went to say

farewell to his lady mother, who had wept till her eyes were bright

again, and she was ready to give both leave and blessing to her bold

and fearless son. She gave him also a warning. "My dear son," she said,

"when you come to Kiev town and to the Court of Prince Vladimir and

he makes a banquet in your honour, boast not of your wealth, or of

me your mother." Then she kissed him upon his honey mouth and he rode

away with happy heart. They saw him as he mounted Rough-Coat but they

did not see him as he rode, so swift was his flight--it was only a

wreath of smoke, a pillar of dust far off upon the boundless plain,

and he was gone.

 

Now in due time he came to the first barrier of the moving mountains,

which, of course, could not always be meeting, but must also part to

meet once more; and watching for the time when they parted, Rough-Coat

darted between them so quickly that they only caught a long hair

from his flowing tail. Then they came to the second barrier of the

ravenous birds, which swooped down upon them. But Rough-Coat dipped

his head and flung up his hind feet so that they pecked only at his

hoofs and found no sweetness in that meal; and with two heroic leaps

the brave steed was far beyond the reach of the pecking birds. Last

of all they came so suddenly upon the barrier of the dragon that

before he could rouse himself and uncoil his stinging tails one by

one Rough-Coat was far beyond the reach of their malice.

 

So the three terrible barriers were safely passed without the loss of

a single arrow, and Diuk rode onward singing gaily of the great deeds

of Svyatogor and Ilya of Murom the Old Cossáck. On he went across the

boundless open plain until he came to a ring-barked oak on which sat a

raven as black as night, croaking, croaking, croaking. Diuk looked up

with impatience, for in his heart he feared an omen more than clashing

mountains, pecking birds, or dragons with twelve stinging tails.

 

"Thou bird of evil," he cried, "I will scatter thy sable feathers

upon the open plain. I will spill thy blood upon the ring-barked oak

and give thee over to croaking Death."

 

But the raven answered him in the speech of Holy Russia, "Shed not my

blood, young Lord Diuk. Ride on across the open steppe and you will

find an adversary worthy of your stout bow and your shining arrows."

 

This speech filled the heart of the young hero with gladness and with

the hope of meeting an adventure worthy of his ancestry. He rode on

again until he came upon the hoof-prints of a horse deeply marked

on the broad lap of moist Mother Earth, so deeply that it was clear

to all eyes that a hero of mighty stature had recently passed that

way. A few more leaps of Rough-Coat, and Diuk came to a pavilion of

fair white linen embroidered with gold, beside which strayed a shaggy

charger eating fine white Turkish wheat, which was heaped freely upon the ground for his solace and entertainment.