But to each other, "How can this be?" says one. "Ivan the Ninny
bringing back such a cargo, while we in our fine ships have only a bag
or two of gold."
"And what is Ivan the Ninny doing with a princess?" says the other.
And they ground their teeth, and waited their time, and came up
suddenly, when Ivan was alone in the twilight, and picked him up by
his head and his heels, and hove him overboard into the dark blue sea.
Not one of the old men had seen them, and the Princess was not on
deck. In the morning they said that Ivan the Ninny must have walked
overboard in his sleep. And they drew lots. The eldest brother took
the Princess, and the second brother took the little ship laden with
gold and silver and precious stones. And so the brothers sailed home
very well content. But the Princess sat and wept all day long, looking
down into the blue water. The elder brother could not comfort her, and
the second brother did not try. And the ancient old sailormen muttered
in their beards, and were sorry, and prayed to God to give rest to
Ivan's soul; for although he had been a ninny, and although he had
made them carry a lot of salt and other things, yet they loved him,
because he knew how to talk to ancient old sailormen.
But Ivan was not dead. As soon as he splashed into the water, he
crammed his fur hat a little tighter on his head, and began swimming
in the sea. He swam about until the sun rose, and then, not far away,
he saw a floating timber log, and he swam to the log, and got astride
of it, and thanked God. And he sat there on the log in the middle of
the sea, twiddling his thumbs for want of something to do.
There was a strong current in the sea that carried him along, and at
last, after floating for many days without ever a bite for his teeth
or a drop for his gullet, his feet touched land. Now that was at
night, and he left the log and walked up out of the sea, and lay down
on the shore and waited for morning.
When the sun rose he stood up, and saw that he was on a bare island,
and he saw nothing at all on the island except a huge house as big as
a mountain; and as he was looking at the house the great door creaked
with a noise like that of a hurricane among the pine forests, and
opened; and a giant came walking out, and came to the shore, and stood
there, looking down at Ivan.
"What are you doing here, little one?" says the giant.
Ivan told him the whole story, just as I have told it to you.
The giant listened to the very end, pulling at his monstrous whiskers.
Then he said, "Listen, little one. I know more of the story than you,
for I can tell you that to-morrow morning your eldest brother is going
to marry your Princess. But there is no need for you to take on about
it. If you want to be there, I will carry you and set you down before
the house in time for the wedding. And a fine wedding it is like to
be, for your father thinks well of those brothers of yours bringing
back all those precious stones, and silver and gold enough to buy a
kingdom."
And with that he picked up Ivan the Ninny and set him on his great
shoulders, and set off striding through the sea.
He went so fast that the wind of his going blew off Ivan's hat.
"Stop a moment," shouts Ivan; "my hat has blown off."
"We can't turn back for that," says the giant; "we have already left
your hat five hundred versts behind us." And he rushed on, splashing
through the sea. The sea was up to his armpits. He rushed on, and the
sea was up to his waist. He rushed on, and before the sun had climbed
to the top of the blue sky he was splashing up out of the sea with the
water about his ankles. He lifted Ivan from his shoulders and set him
on the ground.
"Now," says he, "little man, off you run, and you'll be in time for
the feast. But don't you dare to boast about riding on my shoulders.
If you open your mouth about that you'll smart for it, if I have to
come ten thousand thousand versts."
Ivan the Ninny thanked the giant for carrying him through the sea,
promised that he would not boast, and then ran off to his father's
house. Long before he got there he heard the musicians in the
courtyard playing as if they wanted to wear out their instruments
before night. The wedding feast had begun, and when Ivan ran in,
there, at the high board, was sitting the Princess, and beside her his
eldest brother. And there were his father and mother, his second
brother, and all the guests. And everyone of them was as merry as
could be, except the Princess, and she was as white as the salt he had
sold to her father.
Suddenly the blood flushed into her cheeks. She saw Ivan in the
doorway. Up she jumped at the high board, and cried out, "There, there
is my true love, and not this man who sits beside me at the table."
"What is this?" says Ivan's father, and in a few minutes knew the
whole story.
He turned the two elder brothers out of doors, gave their ships to
Ivan, married him to the Princess, and made him his heir. And the
wedding feast began again, and they sent for the ancient old sailormen
to take part in it. And the ancient old sailormen wept with joy when
they saw Ivan and the Princess, like two sweet pigeons, sitting side
by side; yes, and they lifted their flagons with their old shaking
hands, and cheered with their old cracked voices, and poured the wine
down their dry old throats.
There was wine enough and to spare, beer too, and mead--enough to
drown a herd of cattle. And as the guests drank and grew merry and
proud they set to boasting. This one bragged of his riches, that one
of his wife. Another boasted of his cunning, another of his new house,
another of his strength, and this one was angry because they would not
let him show how he could lift the table on one hand. They all drank
Ivan's health, and he drank theirs, and in the end he could not bear
to listen to their proud boasts.
"That's all very well," says he, "but I am the only man in the world
who rode on the shoulders of a giant to come to his wedding feast."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth before there were a
tremendous trampling and a roar of a great wind. The house shook with
the footsteps of the giant as he strode up. The giant bent down over
the courtyard and looked in at the feast.
"Little man, little man," says he, "you promised not to boast of me. I
told you what would come if you did, and here you are and have boasted
already."
"Forgive me," says Ivan; "it was the drink that boasted, not I."
"What sort of drink is it that knows how to boast?" says the giant.
"You shall taste it," says Ivan.
And he made his ancient old sailormen roll a great barrel of wine into
the yard, more than enough for a hundred men, and after that a barrel
of beer that was as big, and then a barrel of mead that was no
smaller.
"Try the taste of that," says Ivan the Ninny.
Well, the giant did not wait to be asked twice. He lifted the barrel
of wine as if it had been a little glass, and emptied it down his
throat. He lifted the barrel of beer as if it had been an acorn, and
emptied it after the wine. Then he lifted the barrel of mead as if it
had been a very small pea, and swallowed every drop of mead that was
in it. And after that he began stamping about and breaking things.
Houses fell to pieces this way and that, and trees were swept flat
like grass. Every step the giant took was followed by the crash of
breaking timbers. Then suddenly he fell flat on his back and slept.
For three days and nights he slept without waking. At last he opened
his eyes.
"Just look about you," says Ivan, "and see the damage that you've
done."
"And did that little drop of drink make me do all that?" says the
giant. "Well, well, I can well understand that a drink like that can
do a bit of bragging. And after that," says he, looking at the wrecks
of houses, and all the broken things scattered about--"after that,"
says he, "you can boast of me for a thousand years, and I'll have
nothing against you."
And he tugged at his great whiskers, and wrinkled his eyes, and went
striding off into the sea.
That is the story about salt, and how it made a rich man of Ivan the
Ninny, and besides, gave him the prettiest wife in the world, and she
a Tzar's daughter.