There once dwelt in a certain kingdom a peasant. The time came when
they enlisted him as a soldier; he had to quit his wife, and as he bade
her good-bye, he said to her, "Hearken, wife! live honestly; flout not
good people; do not let our little hut fall to pieces, but keep house
wisely, and await my return. If God permit it, I will come back and
leave the service. Here are fifty rubles!--whether a little son or a
little daughter be born to thee matters not; keep the money till the
child grows up. If it be a daughter, wed her to the bridegroom whom
God may provide; but if God give thee a son, and he arrive at years of
discretion, this money will be of no little help to him." Then he took
leave of his wife, and went to the wars whither he was bidden. Three
months passed, and the wife gave birth to twin sons, and she called
them the sons of Ivan the soldier. The youngsters grew up betimes;
like wheaten dough mixed with yeast they shot up broad and high. When
they reached their tenth year their mother gave them instruction, and
they quickly learned their letters, and the children of the boyars and
the children of the merchants could not hold a candle to them; no one
could read aloud, or write, or answer questions so well as they. The
two sons of Ivan the soldier thus grew up, and they asked their mother,
"Mother, dear! did not our father leave us some money? If there be any,
let us have it, and we'll take it to the fair and buy us a good horse
apiece." Their mother gave them the fifty rubles, twenty-five to each
brother, and said to them, "Hearken, children, as ye go to the town,
give a bow to every one you come across."--"Good, dear mother."
So the brothers hied them off to the town, and went to the
horse-market. There were many horses there, but they chose none of
them, for they were not good enough mounts for the good brothers. So
one of the brothers said to the other: "Let us go to the other end of
the square; look how the people are all running together there. There
is something strange going on." Thither they went and joined the crowd;
and there stood two mares tied to stout oaken posts with iron clamps;
one with six clamps, and the other with twelve clamps. The horses
were tugging at their chains, gnawing their bits, and digging up
the ground with their hoofs. No one was able to go near them. "What
is the price of thy mares?" asked Ivan, the soldier's son, of the
owner. "Don't thrust thy nose in here, friend!--such mares are not for
the like of thee. Ask no more about them!"--"How dost thou know what
I am? Maybe I'll buy them, but I must first look at their teeth." The
horse-dealer smiled: "Look out for your heads, that's all!" One of the
brothers then drew near to the mare that was fastened by six clamps,
and the other brother to the mare that was fastened by twelve. They
tried to look at the horses' teeth, but how was it to be done? The
mares rose on their hind legs and pawed the air. Then the brothers
struck them in the breast with their knees; the chains which held the
horses burst, and the mares flew up into the air five fathoms high,
and fell down with their legs uppermost. "Well!" cried the brothers,
"that's not much to boast of. We would not take such horses at a
gift." The crowd cried "Oh!" and was amazed. "What strong and stalwart
heroes are these?" The horse-dealer was almost in tears. The mares
galloped all over the town, and made off over the wide steppe; nobody
dared approach them, and nobody knew how to catch them. The sons of
Ivan the soldier were sorry for the horse-dealer. They went out into
the open steppe, cried with a piercing voice and whistled lustily,
and the mares came running back and stood in their proper place as if
they had been nailed there. Then the good youths put the iron chains
upon them again, and tied them to the oaken posts, and bound them
tightly. This they did, and then they went homewards. As they were
going along there met them an old graybeard. They forgot what their
mother had told them, and passed him by without greeting him. Suddenly
one of them recollected himself and cried: "Oh, brother! what have
we done? We never gave that old man a bow; let us run after him and
bow to him!" They ran after the old man, took off their little caps,
bowed to the very girdle, and said, "Forgive us, dear little father,
for passing thee by without a greeting. Our mother straightly charged
us to pay honour to every one we met in the way."--"Thanks, good
youths! whither is God leading you?"--"We have been to the town fair;
we wanted to buy us a good horse apiece, but there are none there
which please us."--"Why, how's that? Suppose now that I were to give
you a little nag apiece?"--"Ah! little father, we would then always
pray to God for thee!"--"Well, come with me."--The old man led them
to a huge mountain, opened two cast-iron doors, and brought out two
horses of heroic breed. "Here, take your horses and depart in God's
name, good youths, and may ye prosper with them!" They thanked him,
mounted and galloped home; reached the courtyard, bound their horses
to a post, and entered the hut. Their mother then began, and asked
them: "Well, my dear children, have you bought yourselves a little
nag apiece?"--"We have not bought them with money, but got them
as a gift."--"Where have you left them?"--"We put them beside the
hut."--"Alas! my children, look if any one has taken them away."--"Nay,
dear mother, such horses are not taken away. No one could lead them,
and there's no getting near them!" The mother went out, looked at
the horses, and burst into tears. "Well, my dear sons, ye are surely
never those whom I have nourished."
The next day the sons begged their mother to let them go into the
town to buy them a sword apiece. "Go, my children!" Then they got
them ready, went to the smith's, entered the master's house, and
said: "Make us a couple of swords!"--"Why should I make them when
they are ready made? Take whichever you like best."--"No, friend, we
want swords which weigh ten puds [42] each."--"What are you thinking
of? Who would be able to wield a machine like that? You'll find such
swords nowhere." So there was nothing for the good youths to do but
return homewards with hanging heads. As they were on their way the
same old man met them again. "Hail, young men!"--"Hail, dear little
father!"--"Whence do you come?"--"From town, from the smith's. We
wanted to buy two Damascus blades, and there were none that suited
our hands."--"How stupid! Suppose now I were to give you a sword
apiece?"--"Ah, dear little father, in that case we would pray to God
for thee for evermore." The old man led them to the huge mountain,
opened the cast-iron door, and drew out two heroic swords. The
brothers took them, thanked the old man, and their hearts were merry
and joyful. They came home, and their mother asked them: "Well, my
children, have you bought yourselves a sword apiece?"--"We have not
bought them for money, but got them as a gift."--"And what have you
done with them?"--"We have placed them beside the hut."--"Take care
lest some one take them away."--"Nay, dear mother, nobody will take
them away, for it is impossible to even carry them." The mother went
out into the courtyard and looked; the two heavy, heroic swords were
leaning against the wall, the hut was scarce able to bear the weight
of them. The old woman burst into tears and said: "Well, my dear sons,
ye are surely never those whom I have nourished."
The next morning the sons of Ivan the soldier saddled their good
horses, took their heroic blades, went into the hut, prayed to God,
and took leave of the mother who bore them. "Bless us, dear little
mother, for a long journey is before us."--"My irremovable, motherly
blessing be upon you. Go, in God's name. Show yourselves, and see
the world. Offend none without cause, and follow not evil ways."--"Be
not afraid, dear mother; our motto is, 'When I eat I don't whistle,
and when I bite I don't let go.'" Then the good youths mounted their
horses and rode off. Whither they went, near or far, long or short,
the tale is soon told, but the deed is not soon done; anyhow, they came
to a cross-way where stood two pillars. On one pillar was written,
"Who goes to the right will become a Tsar," and on the other pillar
was written, "Who goes to the left will become a corpse." The brothers
stood still, read the inscriptions, and fell a-thinking: "Whichever way
shall we go? If we both go to the right, there will not be honour and
glory enough for the heroic strength and youthful prowess of us both;
but nobody wants to go to the left and die." And one brother said to
the other: "Look now, dear brother, I am stronger than thou; let me
go a little on the left to see how death can get hold of me. But thou
go to the right, and perchance God will make thee a Tsar." Then they
took leave of each other, and each gave to the other a little piece
of cloth, and they made this compact--each was to go his own way
and place posts along the road, and write on these posts everything
concerning himself as a mark and guide; every morning each of them
was to wipe his face with his brother's cloth, and if blood appeared
on the cloth it would mean that death had befallen his brother, and
in such a calamity he was to hasten back to seek his dead. So the
good youths parted in different directions. He who turned his horse
to the right came to a splendid kingdom. In this kingdom dwelt a Tsar
and his Tsaritsa, and they had a daughter called the thrice-beautiful
Tsarevna Nastasia. The Tsar beheld the son of the soldier Ivan, loved
him for his knightly valour, and without beating about the bush,
gave him his daughter as a consort, called him the Tsarevich Ivan,
and bade him rule over the whole kingdom. The Tsarevich Ivan lived
right merrily, loved his wife dearly, gave good laws to his kingdom,
and diverted himself with the pleasures of the chase.
But his brother, Ivan the soldier's son, who had taken the road to
the left, went on day and night without rest. A month, and a second
month, and a third passed by, and he found himself in an unknown
empire, in the midst of the capital. In this empire there was great
mourning, the houses were covered with black cloth, and the people
crept about as if they were dreaming. He hired him a lodging at a
poor old woman's, and began to ask her, "Tell me, old mother, why
are all the people in this empire of thine so full of woe, and all
the houses covered with black cloth?"--"Alas, good youth! a great
grief weighs upon us; every day there comes out of the blue sea,
from beyond the gray rock, a twelve-headed serpent and eats up a
man every time, and now it has come to the turn of the Tsar's own
house. He has three most lovely Tsarevnas; at this very time they are
escorting the youngest of them to the sea-shore to be devoured by the
monster." Ivan the soldier's son mounted his horse and rode off to
the blue sea, to the gray rock; on the shore stood the thrice-lovely
Tsarevna, tied to an iron chain. She saw the hero and said to him,
"Depart hence, good youth. The twelve-headed serpent will soon be
here; I shall perish, nor wilt thou escape death; the cruel serpent
will devour thee also." "Fear not, lovely maiden. Perhaps it may
be overcome." And Ivan the soldier's son went up to her, burst the
chain with his heroic hand, and broke it into little bits as if it
were rotten rope; then he lit a large fire all round the rock and
nourished it with the trunks of uprooted oaks and pines, piled them
up into a huge pyre, and then went back to the lovely maiden, laid
his head on her knee, and said to her, "I must rest, but thou look
seawards, and as soon as a cloud arises, and the wind begins to blow,
and the sea to leap and roar, awaken me, young maiden." So he spake,
and fell into a deep sleep, and the lovely maiden watched over him,
and sat and looked out upon the sea. Suddenly a cloud rose above the
horizon, and the wind began to blow, and the sea to leap and roar;
the serpent was coming forth from the blue sea, and raised itself
mountains high. The Tsarevna tried to awake Ivan the soldier's son;
she shook him and shook him; it was of no use, he heard her not;
then she burst into tears, and her burning tear-drops fell upon his
cheeks. At this the hero awoke, ran to his horse, and the good horse
had already ploughed up half a fathom of earth with his hoofs. The
twelve-headed serpent rushed straight at him, belching forth fire;
it looked upon the hero and cried, "Goodly art thou and comely, fair
youth, but thy last hour has come. Say farewell to the wide world,
and gallop down my throat as quickly as thou canst."--"Thou liest,
cursed serpent; surrender!" Then they fell to mortal combat. Ivan the
soldier's son struck so deftly and sturdily with his sword that it
grew red-hot, there was no holding it in his hand. Then he cried to
the Tsarevna: "Save me, lovely maiden! Take out thy fair kerchief,
dip it in the blue sea, and wrap it round my sword." The Tsarevna
immediately moistened her kerchief in the sea, and gave it to the good
youth. He wrapped it round his sword and again fell fiercely on the
serpent, but he found that he could not despatch the serpent with his
sword. Then he snatched a burning pine-brand from the pyre and burnt
out the serpent's eye, and then he hewed off all its twelve heads,
placed them beneath the rock, cast the body into the sea, and then
trotted home, ate and drank, and laid him down to sleep for thrice
four-and-twenty hours.
And in the meantime the Tsar called his water-carrier and said to him:
"Go to the sea-shore and collect the bones of the Tsarevna, if haply ye
find them." The water-carrier went down to the sea-shore, and lo! the
Tsarevna was in no way hurt. He placed her on the cart and drove
her into the drear forest--far into the forest he drove her--drew
his knife from his girdle, and began to sharpen it. "What art thou
doing?" asked the Tsarevna. "I am sharpening my knife. I mean to slay
thee. Tell thy father that I slew the serpent, and I'll have mercy on
thee." He terrified the lovely maiden, and she took an oath to speak
according to his words. Now this daughter was the Tsar's favourite, and
when the Tsar saw that she was alive, and in no way hurt, he wished to
reward the water-carrier, and gave him his youngest daughter to wife;
and the rumour of it went through the whole realm. Ivan the soldier's
son heard also that a marriage was being celebrated at the Tsar's,
and straight to court he went. There a great banquet was proceeding;
the guests were eating and drinking, and diverting themselves with
divers pastimes. The youngest Tsarevna looked at Ivan the soldier's
son, and saw his sword wrapped round with her costly kerchief,
whereupon she leaped from her chair, seized his hand, and cried:
"My dear father and sovereign lord, lo! here is he who saved us from
the cruel serpent and from violent death. The water-carrier can only
sharpen his knife and say--'I am sharpening my knife. I mean to kill
thee.'" The Tsar was wroth, and he bade them hang the water-carrier,
and gave the Tsarevna to Ivan the soldier's son as his consort,
and there was great rejoicing. And the young couple lived together,
and their life was happy and prosperous.
Not a very long time passed away, and then this thing befell the
Tsarevich Ivan, the other son of Ivan the soldier.
One day he was going a-hunting, and he started a swift-footed stag. The
Tsarevich Ivan put spurs to his horse and pursued the stag. On and
on he sped, and he came to a vast meadow. Here the stag vanished from
before his eyes. Ivan looked about him and considered--"Whither does
my way lie now?" And, lo, in that meadow a little stream was flowing,
and on the water two gray ducks were swimming. He took aim at them,
fired, and slew the ducks, dragged them out of the water, put them
into his knapsack, and went on further. He went on and on till he saw
a palace of white stone, dismounted from his horse, fastened it to
a post, and went into the rooms. They were all empty, not a living
soul was to be seen, only in one room was there a lighted stove,
a pan for a meal of six stood there, and the table was already laid;
there were plates and glasses and knives. The Tsarevich Ivan pulled the
ducks from his pocket and drew them, put them in the pan, cooked them,
placed them on the table, and began carving and eating them. Suddenly,
whence I know not, a lovely damsel appeared to him, so lovely that the
like of her cannot be told of in tales or written with pens, and she
said to him: "Bread and salt, Ivan the Tsarevich."--"I cry thy pardon,
lovely damsel, sit down and eat with me."--"I would sit down with thee,
but I am afraid. Thou hast an enchanted horse."--"Nay, lovely damsel,
thou art ill-informed. I have left my magic horse at home, and am
riding on a common one." No sooner did the lovely damsel hear this
than she began to swell out and swell out till she became a frightful
lioness, opened wide her jaws, and swallowed up the Tsarevich Ivan
whole. She was not an ordinary damsel, but the very sister of the
serpent who had been slain by Ivan the soldier's son.
And it fell about this time that the other Tsarevich Ivan bethought
him of his brother, drew his kerchief out of his pocket, dried his
face with it, and saw that the whole kerchief was covered with
blood. Sorely grieved was he. "What's the matter?" he cried. He
took leave of his wife and father-in-law, and went forth on his
heroic horse to seek his brother. He went near and far, and long
and short, and at last he came to the same realm where his brother
had lived. He asked about everything, and learnt that the Tsarevich
had indeed gone hunting and disappeared--not a trace of him could
be found. Ivan went a-hunting the selfsame way, and there met him
a swift-footed stag. The hero pursued after it; he came out into
the vast meadow, and the stag vanished from before his eyes. In
the meadow he saw a little stream flowing, and two gray ducks were
swimming on the water. Ivan the soldier's son shot the ducks, came
to the white stone palace, and went into the rooms. They were all
empty, only in one room was a stove lighted and a pan for a meal for
six was upon it. He roasted the ducks, went out into the courtyard,
sat on the steps, and began carving them up and eating. Suddenly a
lovely damsel appeared before him. "Bread and salt, good youth, why
dost thou eat in the courtyard?" Ivan the soldier's son answered:
"In the rooms it is not to my mind; in the courtyard 'twill be more
pleasant. Sit down with me, fair damsel!"--"I would sit down gladly,
but I fear thy enchanted horse."--"No need, damsel. I am riding on an
ordinary nag." Like a fool she believed him, and began to swell out,
and swelled into a frightful lioness, and would have swallowed up the
good youth, when his magic horse ran up and seized her round the body
with its heroic feet. Ivan the soldier's son drew his sharp sword
and cried with a piercing voice: "Stand, accursed one. Hast thou
not swallowed my brother, the Tsarevich Ivan? Give him back to me,
or I'll cut thee into little bits." The red lioness turned back again
into a most lovely damsel, and began to beg and pray: "Spare me, good
youth. Take the two phials from that bench full of healing and living
water, follow me into the underground chamber, and revive thy brother."
The Tsarevich Ivan followed the lovely damsel into the underground
chamber, and saw his brother lying there torn to bits. He sprinkled
his brother with the healing water; the flesh and fat grew together
again. He sprinkled him with the living water, and his brother stood
up and spoke: "Ah! how long have I slept?" Ivan the Tsarevich said,
"Thou wouldst have slept for ever but for me." And the brothers
returned to court, made a three days' feast, and then took leave of
each other. Ivan the soldier's son remained with his wife, and lived
with her in love and harmony and enduring bliss. But the Tsarevich
returned to his realm, and I met him on his way; three days he drank
and diverted himself with me, and 'twas he who told me all this tale.