The Soldier and Death 1

The Soldier and Death 1

The Soldier and Death

A Russian Folk Tale Told in English by Arthur Ransome

: Arthur Ransome

 

 

A soldier served God and the Great Tzar for twenty-five years, earned

three dry biscuits, and set off to walk his way home. He kissed his

companions with whom he had served so long, and boasted of the feasting

there would be in the village when he should come marching home with

all his wars behind him. Singing at the top of his voice he was as he

set off. But as soon as he was alone on the high road, walking through

the forest he began to think things over. And he thought to himself:

All these years I have served the Tzar and had good clothes to my back

and my belly full of victuals. And now I am like to be both hungry and

cold. Already I've nothing but three dry biscuits.

 

Just then he met an old beggar, who stood in the road and crossed

himself and asked alms for the love of God.

 

The soldier had not a copper piece in the world, so he gave the beggar

one of his three dry biscuits.

 

He had not gone very far along the road when he met a second beggar,

who leant on a stick and recited holy words and begged alms for the

love of God.

 

The soldier gave him the second of his three dry biscuits.

 

And then, at a bend in the road, he met a third old beggar, with long

white hair and beard and loathsome rags, who stood shaking by the

roadside, and he begged alms for the love of God.

 

"If I give him my last dry biscuit I shall have nothing left for

myself," thought the soldier. He gave the old beggar half of the third

dry biscuit. Then the thought came into his head that perhaps this old

beggar would meet the other two, and would learn that they had been

given whole biscuits while he had only been given a half. "He will be

hurt and affronted," thought the soldier, "and his blessing will be of

no avail." So he gave the old beggar the other half also of the third

of his three dry biscuits. "I shall get along somehow," thought the

soldier, and was for making forward on his way. But the old beggar put

out his hand and stopped him.

 

"Brother," says the old beggar, "are you in want of anything?"

 

"God bless you," says the soldier, looking at the beggar's rags, "I

want nothing from you. You're a poor man yourself."

 

"Never mind my poverty," says the old beggar. "Just tell me what you

would like to have, and I am well able to reward you for your kind

heart."

 

"I don't want anything," said the soldier; "but, if you do happen to

have such a thing as a pack of cards about you, I'd keep them in memory

of you, and they'd be a pleasure to me on the long road."

 

The old beggar thrust his hand into his bosom among his rags, and

pulled out a pack of cards.

 

"Take these," says he, "and when you play with them you'll always be

winner whoever may be playing against you. And here's a flour sack for

you as well. If you meet anything and want to catch it, just open the

sack and tell beasts or birds or aught else to get into it, and they'll

do just that, and you can close the sack and do with them what you

will."

 

"Thank you kindly," says the soldier, throws the sack over his

shoulder, puts the pack of cards in his pocket, and trudges off along

the high road singing an old song.

 

He went on and on till he came to a lake, where he drank a little water

to ease his thirst, and smoked a pipe to put off his hunger, resting by

the shore of the lake. And there on the lake he saw three wild geese

swimming far away. "Now if I could catch them!" thought the soldier,

and remembered the sack the old beggar had given him. He opened the

sack and shouted at the top of his voice: "Hi! You there, you wild

geese, come into my sack!"

 

And the three wild geese splashed up out of the water, and flew to the

bank and crowded into the sack one after the other.

 

The soldier tied up the mouth of the sack, flung it over his shoulder

and went on his way.

 

He came to a town, and looked for a tavern, and chose the best he could

see, and went in there and asked for the landlord.

 

"See here," says he, "here are three wild geese. I want one of them

roasted for my dinner. Another I'll give you in exchange for a bottle

of vodka. The third you shall have to pay you for your trouble."

 

The landlord agreed, as well he might, and presently the soldier was

seated at a good table near a window, with a whole bottle of the best

vodka, and a fine roast goose fresh from the kitchen.

 

When he had made an end of the goose, the soldier laid down his knife

and fork, tipped the last drops of the vodka down his throat, and set

the bottle upside down upon the table. Then he lit his little pipe, sat

back on the bench and took a look out of the window to see what was

doing in the town.

 

And there on the other side of the road was a fine palace, well carved

and painted. A year's work had gone to the carving of every doorpost

and window-frame. But in all the palace there was not one whole pane of

glass.

 

"Landlord," says the soldier, "tell me what's the meaning of this? Why

is a fine palace like that standing empty with broken windows?"

 

"It's a good enough palace," says the landlord. "The Tzar built the

palace for himself, but there's no living in it because of the devils."

 

"Devils?" says the soldier.

 

"Devils," says the landlord. "Every night they crowd into the palace,

and, what with their shouting and yelling and screaming and playing

cards, and all the other devilries that come into their heads, there's

no living in the palace for decent folk."

 

"And does nobody clear them out?" asks the soldier.

 

"Easier said than done," says the landlord.

 

Well, with that the soldier wishes good health to the landlord, and

sets off to see the Tzar. He comes walking into the Tzar's house and

gives him a salute.

 

"Your Majesty," says he, "will you give me leave to spend one night in

your empty palace?"

 

"God bless you," says the Tzar, "but you don't know what you are

asking. Foolhardy folk enough have tried to spend a night in that

palace. They went in merry and boasting, but not one of them came

walking out alive in the morning."

 

"What of that?" says the soldier. "Water won't drown a Russian soldier,

and fire won't burn him. I have served God and the Tzar for twenty-five

years and am not dead. A single night in that palace won't be end of

me."

 

"But I tell you: a man walks in there alive in the evening, and in the

morning the servants have to search the floor for the little bits of

his bones."

 

"None the less," says the soldier, "if your majesty will give me

leave...."

 

"Get along with you and God be with you," says the Tzar. "Spend the

night there if you've set your heart on it."

 

So the soldier came to the palace and stepped in, singing through the

empty rooms. He made himself comfortable in the biggest room of all,

laid his knapsack in a corner and hung his sword on a nail, sat down at

the table, took out his bag of tobacco, filled his little pipe, and

sat there smoking, ready for what might come.

 

Twelve o'clock sharp and there was a yelling, a shouting, a blowing

of horns, a scraping of fiddles and every other kind of instrument, a

noise of dancing, of running, of stamping, and the palace cram full of

devils making themselves at home as if the place belonged to them.

 

"And you, soldier?" cried the devils. "What are you sitting there so

glum for, smoking your pipe? There's smoke enough where we have been.

Put your pipe in your pocket and play a round of cards with us."

 

"Right you are," says the soldier, "if you'll play with my cards."

 

"Deal them out," shouted the devils, and the soldier put his pipe in

his pocket and dealt out the cards, while the devils crowded round the

table fighting for room on the benches.

 

They played a game and the soldier won. They played another and he won

again. The devils were cunning enough, God knows, but not all their

cunning could win a single game for them. The soldier was raking in

the money all the time. Soon enough the devils had not a penny piece

between them, and the soldier was for putting up his cards and lighting

his pipe. Content he was, and well he might be, with his pockets

bulging with money.

 

"Stop a minute, soldier," said the devils, "we've still got sixty

bushels of silver and forty of gold. We'll play for them if you'll give

us time to send for them."

 

"Lets see the silver," says the soldier, and puts the cards in his

pocket.

 

Well, they sent a little devil to fetch the silver. Sixty times he ran

out of the room and sixty times he came staggering back with a bushel of silver on his shoulders.