The Russian Story Book 34

The Russian Story Book 34

Next morning the old woman and the young man sat in the porch, and the

former gave a heroic whistle, whereupon the blue sea heaved in a great

heap, and the fishes, large and small, sea-serpents and sea-dragons,

rose upon the surface and made for the shore.

 

"Come no farther," said the old woman, raising her right hand. "Tell

me where this good youth can find Peerless Beauty." Then the answer

came from a million mouths, "We have not seen or heard of her."

 

The old woman blew her whistle and the forests echoed to the sound of

a million voices of wild beasts, but the answer to her question was,

"We have not seen or heard of her."

 

"Come hither," said the grandmother, "all ye birds of the air." And

in a moment the light of the sun was hidden and the sound of flapping

wings was like a tempest. But the answer of the birds to the question

was, "We have not seen or heard of her."

 

"My givers of answers fail me," said the ancient woman as she took

Ivan by the lily-white hand and led him into the house. Then there

flew through the open window the Mogol Bird which fell to the ground

at her feet.

 

"Ah, Mogol Bird," said the old woman, "whither hast thou come?"

 

"I come from the home of Peerless Beauty," was the tired reply,

"and I have been dressing her for Mass in the Cathedral."

 

The old woman clapped her hands in delight. "That is the news I seek,"

she said. "Now, Mogol Bird, do me a favour. Carry this young man,

Ivan Tsarevich, to the home of Peerless the Beauty."

 

"That I will," was the reply, "but we shall need a great deal of food."

 

"How much?" asked the old woman.

 

"Three hundredweight of beef," was the answer, "and a keg full

of water."

 

Ivan filled a large keg with water and placed it upon the back of the

Mogol Bird with the heaped-up piles of beef round about it. Then he

ran to the forge and told the smith to make him a long iron lance,

and with this weapon in his hand he sat on the edge of the keg with

the beef all round about him. Up rose the Mogol Bird and once it was

under way it flew so steadily that the top of the water in the keg

remained always level, but now and again the bird would slowly turn

its head and look at Ivan, when he would at once give it a large

piece of beef upon the point of his long iron lance.

 

Onward, and ever onward, flew the Mogol Bird, feeding on the beef and

drinking the water from Ivan's cap, which he extended at the point

of his lance, until all the meat and water were finished, whereupon

the Tsarevich threw the keg overboard.

 

"O Mogol Bird," he said, "haste to finish your journey, for there is

no more beef and there is no more water."

 

"I cannot go down to earth in this spot," said the bird, "for beneath

us there is nothing but a bog like glue. And I must have more meat. If

you cannot get beef, veal will do." So Ivan cut off the calves of his

own legs, and when the bird had refreshed itself it flew on till it

came to a green meadow with tall silken grass and blue flowers. Here

it flew down to earth, and Ivan alighted, but, of course, walked

very lame.

 

"What makes you halt, Ivan Tsarevich?" asked the Mogol Bird, and when

the young man told what he had done the bird blew upon the back of

his legs and restored him to his former condition.

 

On went the young man, eager to finish his quest, until he came to a

great town, where he entered a narrow street and found an old woman

in a poor, mean house, who seemed to be expecting him.

 

"Go to bed and sleep soundly after your flight, Ivan," she said,

"and when the bell rings I will call you."

 

The young man lay down and slept soundly, so soundly that when the bell

rang for early morning prayers not all the calling nor all the shaking,

nor all the shouting nor all the beating could rouse him. Then the bell

rang again for Mass, and the old grandmother tried once more, calling,

shaking, shouting, beating, but all with no result, until she took

a tiny feather and tickled the sleeper's nose. Then he awoke with a

start, washed himself very clean, dressed himself very carefully, and

went to Mass in the cathedral. He bowed first to the high altar, then

to North, South, East, and West, and especially to Peerless Beauty,

who knelt alone in the church. So Ivan Tsarevich knelt beside her and

then stood beside her while she prayed. When the service was over the

young man looked at Peerless Beauty, and looked again and yet again

without speaking, and while he looked six brave heroes came up from

the sea-shore and stood at the great door of the cathedral. Peerless

Beauty went to meet them with Ivan Tsarevich close behind her.

 

"What country clown is this?" cried the brave heroes, but Ivan

stepped before Peerless Beauty and swung his right arm in a circle

three times round; and when he stopped the heroes were lying at the

feet of the Princess in a heap of confusion.

 

Then Ivan Tsarevich went back to the old grandmother, who put

him to bed. On the second day it all fell out as on the first

occasion. Peerless Beauty looked at Ivan as he knelt in silence by

her side, and as she looked she blushed. On the third day it all

fell out as on the first in every particular except that when Ivan

entered the church Peerless Beauty gave him a silent salutation and

then came and stood at his left hand; and when the young man had laid

low six more scornful heroes Peerless Beauty took him by the hand,

and together, without a word, they went up to the priest and took

the golden crowns. After that they went home and feasted, and then

prepared to set out for the home of Ivan Tsarevich. Over the open

boundless plain they rode, speaking little, but looking much and

smiling frequently, until Peerless Beauty grew weary and lay down

to rest, while Ivan Tsarevich guarded her slumber. When she awoke

refreshed the bridegroom said:

 

"Now guard my slumbers, Peerless Beauty, for I am very weary."

 

"Will your sleep be short or long?" asked the bride.

 

"I shall sleep," said Ivan, "for no longer and no shorter than nine

days and nine nights. If you try to arouse me I shall not wake,

but when the end of the time comes I shall wake without any arousing."

 

"I shall be weary of waiting and watching, Ivan Tsarevich," said

Peerless Beauty with a sigh.

 

"Weary or not, it cannot be set aside or gainsaid or altered," said

Ivan Tsarevich. Then he lay down and slept for nine days and nine

nights. And while he slept there came a rushing whirlwind across the

open steppe, and in the heart of the whirlwind, where was the point of

peace, rested Koschei Who Never Dies, who bore away Peerless Beauty

to his kingdom beyond the sea. And Ivan Tsarevich awoke without any

arousing to find himself alone.

 

Sadly he gazed across the empty boundless plain, and when he arose,

went back to the town, sought out the old woman in the poor, mean

house, who seemed to be expecting him, and told her all his tale

of sadness.

 

"I had all things," he said, "and now I have nothing."

 

"Go to bed and sleep soundly after your sorrow, Ivan," she said, and

he went to bed, but could sleep neither soundly nor restlessly. But

at midnight there came a rushing whirlwind across the open steppe,

and in the heart of the whirlwind, where was the point of peace,

rested Koschei Who Never Dies, who bore away Ivan Tsarevich to his

kingdom beyond the sea.

 

At the gate of the palace Ivan knocked--tock, tock--and the wicket-gate

in the large gate was opened by Peerless Beauty, who peeped out with

eyes like violets wet with the rain, and cheeks like roses in the

morning sun, and a brow like a seed pearl of priceless lustre. She

opened the little wicket-gate wide, and Ivan stepped in. Then they

went to an upper room, where the bridegroom said to the bride:

 

"When Koschei comes home, ask him where his death is."

 

Then Koschei came in at one door and Ivan went out at another door.

 

"Phu! phu!" said Koschei Who Never Dies, "I smell the blood of a

Russian. Was it Ivan Tsarevich who was with you just now, at this

moment, and recently?"

 

"Why, Koschei Who Never Dies," said Peerless Beauty clasping her hands,

"Ivan Tsarevich has long ago been devoured by wild beasts of the plain,

at least it must have been so and not otherwise." So they sat down

to supper, and when Koschei had eaten well and drunk better Peerless

Beauty said to him, "Tell me, now, Koschei, where is your death?"

 

"It is tied up in the broom, silly one," said Koschei; "why do you

wish to know?"

 

Next morning Koschei Who Never Dies went out at the head of his

men to fight, and as soon as he had gone Ivan Tsarevich came to

Peerless Beauty and kissed her sugar lips. Then she took the broom

from the corner near the stove and gilded it all over with pure beaten

gold. When this was done--and it took a long time to cover each twig

of the birch boughs with the gold--Ivan left his bride and Koschei

Who Never Dies came in by another door.

 

"Phu! phu!" he said, "I smell the blood of a Russian. Was it Ivan

Tsarevich who was with you just now, at this moment, and recently?"

 

"Why, Koschei Who Never Dies," said Peerless Beauty clasping her

hands, "you have been flying through Russia and have caught up

the odour of the country on your own garments. Where should I see

Ivan Tsarevich?" Then they sat down to supper, and Koschei saw the

gilded broom lying across the threshold. "What does this mean?" he

asked sternly.

 

"See how I honour you," said Peerless Beauty, "for I gild even Death

for you."

 

"Little simpleton, I fooled you," said Koschei. "My death is not in

the broom, but is concealed in the oak fence."

 

Next day it fell out as before. Peerless Beauty, helped by Ivan

Tsarevich, gilded the fence, and when Koschei saw it burning like

fire in the evening sun, he laughed and said to Peerless Beauty:

 

"Little simpleton, I fooled you. My death is in an egg, the egg is

in a downy duck, and the duck is in the stump of a tree which floats

upon the open sea."

 

Next day Peerless Beauty rose very early, before the sun was up, and

went to the stove in the kitchen. "I must send Ivan Tsarevich," she

said, "on the long search for that downy duck. He has a long way to go,

so I must bake him a love cake." So she baked him not one love cake

but three, and as she kneaded the dough, she spoke a love-spell into

it so that Ivan Tsarevich should fare well on his journey. The cakes

were browned and buttered and wrapped in a napkin of fine white linen,

with edges of drawn thread-work, when Ivan came into the kitchen just

as the sun rose. Then he put his arms about the cake-baker, and she

whispered into his ear where to look for the death of Koschei. And

Ivan kissed her honey mouth and went out with the cakes in his pouch.

 

Onward he went and ever onward, until he came to the margin of the

ocean sea, and then he knew not how to go farther. He had eaten all

the cakes and was very hungry, so very hungry that when a hawk flew

up above his head, he cried: "Hawk, hawk, I will shoot you dead and eat you without cooking."