Once upon a time there lived in a village a miserably poor peasant
called Tommy Berennikov. Thomas's tongue could wag right well, and in
mother-wit he was no worse than his neighbours, but he was anything
but handsome to look at, and for working in the fields he was not
worth a button. One day he went into the field to plough. The work
was heavy and his nag was a wretched hack, quite starved and scarce
able to drag along the plough, so at last Tom quite gave way to woe,
sat down on a little stone, and immediately whole swarms of blow-flies
and gad-flies fell upon his poor knacker from every quarter and stuck
fast. Thomas seized a bundle of dry twigs and thwacked his horse about
the back with all his might; the horse never stirred from the spot,
and the blow-flies and gad-flies fell off him in swarms. Thomas
began to count how many he had killed, eight gad-flies, and there
was no numbering the slain of the other flies. And Thomas Berennikov
smiled. "That's something like!" said he, "we've killed eight at a
blow! And there's no counting the smaller fry! What a warrior I am,
what a hero! I won't plough any more, I'll fight. I'll turn hero,
and so seek my fortune!" And he took his crooked sickle from his
shoulders, hung up his bast-basket by his girdle, placed in this
basket his blunt scythe, and then he mounted his hack and wandered
forth into the wide world.
He went on and on till he came to a post on which passing heroes
had inscribed their names, and he wrote with chalk on this post,
"The hero Thomas Berennikov has passed by this way, who slew eight
at one blow, and of the smaller fry without number." This he wrote
and went on further. He had only got a mile from this post when two
stalwart young heroes came galloping up to it, read the inscription,
and asked one another, "What unheard-of hero is this? Whither has he
gone? I never heard of his gallant steed, and there is no trace of
his knightly deed!" They followed hard upon Thomas, overtook him,
and were amazed at the sight of him. "What sort of a horse is the
fellow riding on?" cried they; "why, 'tis a mere hack! Then all this
prowess cannot be in the horse, but in the hero himself." And they
both rode up to Thomas and said to him quite humbly and mildly,
"Peace be with thee, good man." Thomas looked at them over his
shoulder, and without moving his head, said, "Who are you?"--"Ilia
Muromets and Alesha Popovich; we would fain be thy comrades."--"Well,
maybe you'll do. Follow behind me pray."
They came to the realm of the neighbouring Tsar and went straight
into his preserves; here they let their horses out to graze, and laid
themselves down to rest beneath their tent. The neighbouring Tsar
sent out against them a hundred horsemen of his guard, and bade them
drive away the strangers from his preserves. Ilia Muromets and Alesha
Popovich said to Thomas, "Wilt thou go against them, or wilt thou send
us?"--"What, forsooth! do you think I'd soil my hands by going against
such muck! No; go thou, Ilia Muromets, and show thy prowess." So Ilia
Muromets sat him on his heroic steed, charged the Tsar's horsemen,
swooped down upon them like a bright falcon on a flock of doves,
smote them, and cut them all down to the very last one. At this the
Tsar was still more wroth, collected all of his host that was in the
town, both horse and foot, and bade his captains drive the wandering
strangers out of his preserves without ceremony. The Tsar's army
advanced on the preserves, blew with their trumpets, and columns of
dust arose in their path. Ilia Muromets and Alesha Popovich came
to Thomas and said to him, "Wilt thou go thyself against the foe,
or wilt thou send one of us?" But Thomas, who was lying on his side,
did not so much as turn him round, but said to the heroes, "The idea
of my coming to blows with this rabble!--the idea of my soiling my
heroic hands with the like of them! No! Go thou, Alesha Popovich,
and show them our style of fighting, and I'll look on and see if thy
valour be of the right sort." Alesha rushed like a whirlwind upon
the Tsar's host, his armour rattled like thunder, he waved his mace
from afar, and shouted with a voice more piercing than the clang of
clarions, "I will slay and smash all of you without mercy!" He flew
upon the host and began crushing it. The captains saw that every one
took to his heels before him, and there was no way of stopping them,
so they blew a retreat with the trumpets, retired towards the town,
and came themselves with an apology to Alesha, and said: "Tell us
now, strong and potent hero, by what name we must call thee, and
tell us thy father's name that we may honour it. What tribute must
we give thee that thou mayst trouble us no more, and leave our realm
in peace?"--"'Tis not to me you must give tribute!" answered Alesha;
"I am but a subordinate. I do what I am bidden by my elder brother,
the famous hero Thomas Berennikov. You must reckon with him. He will
spare you if he pleases, but if he does not please, he will level your
whole kingdom with the ground." The Tsar heard these words, and sent
Tommy rich gifts and an honourable embassy of distinguished persons,
and bade them say: "We beg the famous hero Thomas Berennikov to come
and visit us, to dwell in our royal court, and help us to war against
the Khan of China. If, O hero, thou dost succeed in smiting utterly
the countless Chinese host, then I will give thee my own daughter,
and after my death thou shalt have the whole realm." But Tommy put
on a long face and said, "What's that? Well, well, I don't mind! I
suppose I may as well consent to that." Then he mounted his hack,
commanded his heroic younger brethren to ride behind him, and went
as a guest to the neighbouring Tsar.
Tommy had not yet thoroughly succeeded in testing the quality of the
Tsar's kitchen, he had not yet thoroughly rested from his labours, when
there came a threatening embassy from the Khan of China, demanding
that the whole kingdom should acknowledge him as its liege lord,
and that the Tsar should send him his only daughter. "Tell your
Khan," replied the Tsar, "that I fear him no longer; I now have a
firm support, a sure defence, the famous hero Thomas Berennikov,
who can slay eight at one blow of his sword, and of the lesser fry
without number. If life is not pleasant to your Khan and your Chinese
brethren, come to my empire, and you shall have cause to remember
Thomas Berennikov." In two days a countless Chinese host surrounded
the city of the Tsar, and the Chinese Khan sent to say, "I have here
an unconquerable hero, the like of whom the world knows not; send out
against him thy Thomas. If thy champion prevails I'll submit and pay
thee a tribute from my whole Khanate; but if mine prevails, thou must
give me thy daughter, and pay me a tribute from thy whole kingdom." So
now it was the turn of Thomas Berennikov to show his prowess! And
his heroic younger brothers, Ilia Muromets and Alesha Popovich, said
to him: "Mighty and potent hero, our elder brother, how wilt thou
fight against this Chinaman without armour? Take our martial armour,
choose the best of our heroic horses!" Thomas Berennikov answered thus:
"How then? Must I hide myself in armour from this shaven pate? Why,
I could finish off this Chinaman with one hand quite easily! Why,
you yourselves when you first saw me said, 'Tis plain that we must not
look at the horse, but at the warrior!" But Thomas thought to himself:
"I'm in a pretty pickle now! Well, let the Chinaman kill me if he
likes--I'll not be put to shame over the business anyhow!" Then they
brought him his hack: he mounted it in peasant style, struck it with
his bunch of twigs, and went into the open plain at a gentle amble.
The Chinese Khan had armed his champion like a fortress; he clothed him
in armour twelve puds (480 lbs.) in weight, taught him the use of every
weapon, put in his hands a battle-axe eighty pounds in weight, and said
to him just before he set out, "Mark me, and recollect my words! When
a Russian hero cannot prevail by force, he will overcome by cunning,
so lest thou should get the worst of it, take care and do everything
the Russian hero does." So the champions went out against each other
into the open field, and Thomas saw the Chinese hero advancing against
him, as big as a mountain, with his head like a beer-cask, and covered
with armour like a tortoise in its shell, so that he was scarcely
able to move. So Tommy had recourse to artifice. He got off his horse
and sat down on a stone and began to sharpen his scythe. The Chinese
hero when he saw that, got off his horse immediately, fastened it to
a tree, and began to whet his axe against a stone also. When Thomas
had finished sharpening his scythe, he marched up to the Chinaman
and said to him, "We two are mighty and potent heroes, we have come
out against each other in mortal combat; but before we pitch into
each other we ought to show each other proper respect, and salute
one another after the custom of the country." And he saluted the
Chinaman with a low, a very low bow. "Oh, oh!" thought the Chinaman,
"here's some piece of trickery, I know. I'll bow yet lower." And he
bowed himself to the very ground. But before he could raise himself
up again in his heavy armour, Thomas rushed at him, tickled him once
or twice in the neck, and so cut his throat through for him. Then he
leaped upon the heroic horse of the Chinaman, scrambled on the top of
it somehow, flourished his birch of twigs, tried to grasp the reins,
and quite forgot that the horse was tied to a tree. But the good horse,
as soon as he felt a rider on his back, tugged and pulled till he tore
the tree up by the roots, and off he set at full gallop towards the
Chinese host, dragging after him the big tree as if it had been a mere
feather. Thomas Berennikov was terribly frightened, and began bawling,
"Help, help!" But the Chinese host feared him more than a snowstorm,
and it seemed to them as if he were crying to them, "Run, run!" so
they took to their heels without once looking back. But the heroic
horse plunged into the midst of them, trampled them beneath its feet,
and the huge tree-trunk scattered them in all directions. Wherever
it plunged it left a wide road behind it.
The Chinese swore that they would never fight with Thomas again,
and this resolution was lucky for Thomas. He returned to the town
on his own hack, and they were all amazed at his strength, valour,
and success. "What dost thou require of me?" said the Tsar to Thomas,
"one half of my golden treasures and my daughter into the bargain, or
one half of my glorious kingdom?" "Well, I'll take half your kingdom
if you like, but I wouldn't turn up my nose either at your daughter
with half your golden treasure for a dowry. And look now, when I get
married, don't forget to invite to the wedding my younger brothers,
Ilia Muromets and Alesha Popovich!"
And Thomas married the thrice-lovely Tsarevna, and they celebrated
the wedding so gloriously that the heads of all the guests ached for
more than two weeks afterwards. I too was there, and I drank mead
and ale and got rich gifts, and so my tale is told.