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diff --git a/22373-h/22373-h.htm b/22373-h/22373-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7fca162 --- /dev/null +++ b/22373-h/22373-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,18340 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Russian Fairy Tales, by W. R. S. Ralston. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + font-size: 110%; + } + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + img {border: none;} + + ins.correction {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + /* replace default underline with delicate gray line */ + + ins.greek {text-decoration: none; border-bottom: thin dashed red;} + /* replace default underline with red dotted line */ + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: 12px; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; padding: 1em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .lowercase {text-transform: lowercase;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: .2em; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .tdl {text-align: left; vertical-align: bottom;} /* left align cell */ + .tdr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} /* right align cell */ + .tdc {text-align: center; vertical-align: bottom;} /* centre align cell */ + .tdlsc {text-align: left; vertical-align: bottom; font-variant: small-caps;} /* left align cell small caps font */ + + .tale {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em; font-size: 99%} /* font for tales in this book */ + + .note {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em; font-size: 90%;} /* smaller font for notes in this book */ + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Russian Fairy Tales, by W. R. S. Ralston + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Russian Fairy Tales + A Choice Collection of Muscovite Folk-lore + +Author: W. R. S. Ralston + +Release Date: August 22, 2007 [EBook #22373] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RUSSIAN FAIRY TALES *** + + + + +Produced by David Starner, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 444px;"> +<img src="images/rft01.jpg" width="444" height="700" +alt="Cover of Russian Fairy Tales" /> +</div> + + +<h1 style="padding-top: 3em;">Russian Fairy Tales.</h1> + + +<h2 style="padding-top: 3em;">A CHOICE COLLECTION<br /> + +<span style="font-size: smaller;">—OF—</span><br /> + +MUSCOVITE FOLK-LORE.</h2> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em;"><b>—BY—</b></p> + +<h2>W. R. S. RALSTON, M. A.,</h2> + + +<p class="center" style="padding-bottom: 3em;">OF THE BRITISH MUSEUM,<br /> +CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY<br /> +OF RUSSIA, AUTHOR OF “THE SONGS OF THE RUSSIAN<br /> +PEOPLE,” “KRILOF AND HIS FABLES,” ETC.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/rft02.png" width="450" height="102" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em; padding-bottom: 3em;">NEW YORK:<br /> +HURST & CO., <span class="smcap">Publishers</span>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">122 Nassau Street</span>.</p> + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<img src="images/rft03.png" width="700" height="472" alt="" title="" /> +<span class="caption">The King got on the Eagle’s back. Away they went +flying.—<a href="#Page_131"><span class="smcap">Page</span> 131</a>.</span> +</div> + + + + +<p class="center" style="padding-top: 3em; padding-bottom: 3em;">To the Memory of<br /> +<br /> +<span style="font-size: larger">ALEXANDER AFANASIEF</span><br /> +<br /> +I Dedicate this Book,<br /> +<br /> +TO HIM SO DEEPLY INDEBTED.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> +<h2>PREFACE.</h2> + + +<p>The stories contained in the following pages +are taken from the collections published by +Afanasief, Khudyakof, Erlenvein, and Chudinsky. The +South-Russian collections of Kulish and Rudchenko I +have been able to use but little, there being no complete +dictionary available of the dialect, or rather the +language, in which they are written. Of these works +that of Afanasief is by far the most important, extending +to nearly 3,000 pages, and containing 332 distinct +stories—of many of which several variants are given, +sometimes as many as five. Khudyakof’s collection +contains 122 skazkas—as the Russian folk-tales are +called—Erlenvein’s 41, and Chudinsky’s 31. Afanasief +has also published a separate volume, containing 33 +“legends,” and he has inserted a great number of +stories of various kinds in his “Poetic views of the Old +Slavonians about Nature,” a work to which I have had +constant recourse.</p> + +<p>From the stories contained in what may be called the +“chap-book literature” of Russia, I have made but few +extracts. It may, however, be as well to say a few +words about them. There is a Russian word <i>lub</i>, +diminutive <i>lubok</i>, meaning the soft bark of the lime +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +tree, which at one time was used instead of paper. +The popular tales which were current in former days +were at first printed on sheets or strips of this substance, +whence the term <i>lubochnuiya</i> came to be given to all +such productions of the cheap press, even after paper +had taken the place of bark.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>The stories which have thus been preserved have no +small interest of their own, but they cannot be considered +as fair illustrations of Russian folk-lore, for their +compilers in many cases took them from any sources +to which they had access, whether eastern or western, +merely adapting what they borrowed to Russian forms +of thought and speech. Through some such process, +for instance, seem to have passed the very popular +Russian stories of Eruslan Lazarevich and of Bova +Korolevich. They have often been quoted as “creations +of the Slavonic mind,” but there seems to be no +reason for doubting that they are merely Russian +adaptations, the first of the adventures of the Persian +Rustem, the second of those of the Italian Buovo +di Antona, our Sir Bevis of Hampton. The editors +of these “chap-book skazkas” belonged to the pre-scientific +period, and had a purely commercial object +in view. Their stories were intended simply to sell.</p> + +<p>A German version of seventeen of these “chap-book +tales,” to which was prefixed an introduction by Jacob +Grimm, was published some forty years ago,<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> and has +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +been translated into English.<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> Somewhat later, also, +appeared a German version of twelve more of these +tales.<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<p>Of late years several articles have appeared in some +of the German periodicals,<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> giving accounts or translations +of some of the Russian Popular Tales. But no +thorough investigation of them appeared in print, out +of Russia, until the publication last year of the erudite +work on “Zoological Mythology” by Professor Angelo +de Gubernatis. In it he has given a summary of the +greater part of the stories contained in the collections +of Afanasief and Erlenvein, and so fully has he described +the part played in them by the members of the +animal world that I have omitted, in the present volume, +the chapter I had prepared on the Russian “Beast-Epos.”</p> + +<p>Another chapter which I have, at least for a time, +suppressed, is that in which I had attempted to say +something about the origin and the meaning of the +Russian folk-tales. The subject is so extensive that +it requires for its proper treatment more space than a +single chapter could grant; and therefore, though not +without reluctance, I have left the stories I have +quoted to speak for themselves, except in those instances +in which I have given the chief parallels to be +found in the two collections of foreign folk-tales best +known to the English reader, together with a few +others which happened to fall within the range of my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +own reading. Professor de Gubernatis has discussed +at length, and with much learning, the esoteric meaning +of the skazkas, and their bearing upon the questions +to which the “solar theory” of myth-explanation +has given rise. To his volumes, and to those of Mr. +Cox, I refer all who are interested in those fascinating +enquiries. My chief aim has been to familiarize +English readers with the Russian folk-tale; the historical +and mythological problems involved in it can +be discussed at a later period. Before long, in all +probability, a copious flood of light will be poured +upon the connexion of the Popular Tales of Russia +with those of other lands by one of those scholars who +are best qualified to deal with the subject.<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a></p> + +<p>Besides the stories about animals, I have left +unnoticed two other groups of skazkas—those which +relate to historical events, and those in which figure +the heroes of the Russian “epic poems” or “metrical +romances.” My next volume will be devoted to the +Builinas, as those poems are called, and in it the +skazkas which are connected with them will find their +fitting place. In it, also, I hope to find space for the +discussion of many questions which in the present +volume I have been forced to leave unnoticed.</p> + +<p>The fifty-one stories which I have translated at +length I have rendered as literally as possible. In the +very rare instances in which I have found it necessary +to insert any words by way of explanation, I have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +(except in the case of such additions as “he said” or +the like) enclosed them between brackets. In giving +summaries, also, I have kept closely to the text, and +always translated literally the passages marked as +quotations. In the imitation of a finished work of art, +elaboration and polish are meet and due, but in a +transcript from nature what is most required is +fidelity. An “untouched” photograph is in certain +cases infinitely preferable to one which has been +carefully “worked upon.” And it is, as it were, a +photograph of the Russian story-teller that I have +tried to produce, and not an ideal portrait.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>The following are the principal Russian books to +which reference has been made:—</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Afanasief</span> (A.N.). Narodnuiya Russkiya Skazki<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> [Russian Popular +Tales]. 8 pts. Moscow, 1863-60-63. Narodnuiya Russkiya +Legendui<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a> [Russian Popular Legends]. Moscow, 1859. Poeticheskiya +Vozzryeniya Slavyan na Prirodu [Poetic Views of the Slavonians +about Nature].<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> 3 vols. Moscow, 1865-69.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap"><ins class="correction" title="Khudyayof in original">Khudyakof</ins></span> (I.A.). Velikorusskiya Skazki [Great-Russian Tales]. +Moscow, 1860.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Chudinsky</span> (E.A.). Russkiya Narodnuiya Skazki, etc. [Russian +Popular Tales, etc.]. Moscow, 1864.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Erlenvein</span> (A.A.). Narodnuiya Skazki, etc. [Popular Tales, collected +by village schoolmasters in the Government of Tula]. Moscow, +1863.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +<span class="smcap">Rudchenko</span> (I.). Narodnuiya Yuzhnorusskiya Skazki [South-Russian +Popular Tales].<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> Kief, 1869.</p></div> + +<p>Most of the other works referred to are too well known +to require a full setting out of their title. But it is +necessary to explain that references to Grimm are as +a general rule to the “Kinder- und Hausmärchen,” +9th ed. Berlin, 1870. Those to Asbjörnsen and Moe +are to the “Norske Folke-Eventyr,” 3d ed. Christiania, +1866; those to Asbjörnsen only are to the “New +Series” of those tales, Christiania, 1871; those to +Dasent are to the “Popular Tales from the Norse,” +2d ed., 1859. The name “<ins class="correction" title="Karadjich in original">Karajich</ins>” refers to the +“Srpske Narodne Pripovijetke,” published at Vienna +in 1853 by Vuk Stefanovich Karajich, and translated +by his daughter under the title of “Volksmärchen der +Serben,” Berlin, 1854. By “Schott” is meant the +“Walachische Mährchen,” Stuttgart und Tubingen, +1845, by “Schleicher” the “Litauische Märchen,” +Weimar, 1857, by “Hahn” the “Griechische und +albanesische Märchen,” Leipzig, 1864, by “Haltrich” +the “Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande +in Siebenbürgen,” Berlin, 1856, and by “Campbell” +the “Popular <ins class="correction" title="Tale in original">Tales</ins> of the West Highlands,” 4 vols., +Edinburgh, 1860-62.</p> + +<p>A few of the ghost stories contained in the following +pages appeared in the “Cornhill Magazine” for August +1872, and an account of some of the “legends” was +given in the “Fortnightly Review” for April 1, 1868.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> So our word “book,” the German <i>Buch</i>, is derived from the <i>Buche</i> or beech tree, +of which the old Runic staves were formed. Cf. <i>liber</i> and <ins class="greek" title="biblos">βίβλος</ins>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> “Russische Volksmärchen in den Urschriften gesammelt und ins Deutsche +übersetzt von A. Dietrich.” Leipzig, 1831.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> “Russian Popular Tales,” Chapman and Hall, London, 1857.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> “Die ältesten Volksmärchen der Russen. Von J. N. Vogl.” Wien, 1841.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Such as the “Orient und Occident,” “Ausland,” &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Professor Reinhold Köhler, who is said to be preparing a work on the Skazkas, +in co-operation with Professor Jülg, the well-known editor and translator of the +“Siddhi Kür” and “Ardshi Bordschi Khan.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> In my copy, pt. 1 and 2 are of the 3d, and pt. 3 and 4 are of the 2d edition. By +such a note as “Afanasief, <ins class="correction" title="1 in original">i.</ins> No. 2,” I mean to refer to the second story of the first +part of this work.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> This book is now out of print, and copies fetch a very high price. I refer to it in +my notes as “Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> This work is always referred to in my notes as “Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i>”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> There is one other recent collection of skazkas—that published last year at +Geneva under the title of “Russkiya Zavyetnuiya Skazki.” But upon its contents I +have not found it necessary to draw.</p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span></p> +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="Table of Contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">CHAPTER I.</td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><span class="smcap lowercase">INTRODUCTORY.</span></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdr"><span class="smcap lowercase">PAGE.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Folk-tale in general, and the Skazka in particular—Relation of +Russian Popular Tales to Russian Life—Stories about Courtship, +Death, Burial and Wailings for the Dead—Warnings +against Drink, Jokes about Women, Tales of Simpletons—A +rhymed Skazka and a Legend</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">CHAPTER II.</td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><span class="smcap lowercase">MYTHOLOGICAL.</span></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><i>Principal Incarnations of Evil.</i></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">On the “Mythical Skazkas”—Male embodiments of Evil: 1. +The Snake as the Stealer of Daylight; 2. Norka the Beast, Lord +of the Lower World; 3. Koshchei the Deathless, The Stealer of +Fair Princesses—his connexion with Punchkin and “the Giant +who had no Heart in his Body”—Excursus on Bluebeard’s Chamber; +4. The Water King or Subaqueous Demon—Female Embodiments +of Evil: 1. The Baba Yaga or Hag, and 2. The +Witch, feminine counterparts of the Snake</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">CHAPTER III.</td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><span class="smcap lowercase">MYTHOLOGICAL.</span></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><i>Miscellaneous Impersonations.</i></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">One-eyed Likho, a story of the Polyphemus Cycle—Woe, the Poor +Man’s Companion—Friday, Wednesday, and Sunday personified +as Female Spirits—The Léshy or Wood-Demon—Legends +about Rivers—Frost as a Wooer of Maidens—The Whirlwind +personified as a species of Snake or Demon—Morfei and Oh, +two supernatural beings</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">CHAPTER IV.</td> + <td class="tdr"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><span class="smcap lowercase">MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT.</span></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Waters of Life and Death, and of Strength and Weakness—Aid +given to Children by Dead Parents—Magic Horses, Fish, +&c.—Stories about Brides won by a Leap, &c.—Stories about +Wizards and Witches—The Headless Princess—Midnight +Watchings over Corpses—The Fire Bird, its connexion with the +Golden Bird and the Phœnix</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">CHAPTER V.</td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><span class="smcap lowercase">GHOST STORIES.</span></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Slavonic Ideas about the Dead—On Heaven and Hell—On the +Jack and the Beanstalk Story—Harmless Ghosts—The Rip van +Winkle Story—the attachment of Ghosts to their Shrouds and +Coffin-Lids—Murderous Ghosts—Stories about Vampires—on +the name Vampire, and the belief in Vampirism</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_295">295</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">CHAPTER VI.</td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc"><span class="smcap lowercase">LEGENDS.</span></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">1. <i>Saints, &c.</i></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Legends connected with the Dog, the Izba, the Creation of Man, +the Rye, the Snake, Ox, Sole, &c.; with Birds, the Peewit, +Sparrow, Swallow, &c.—Legends about SS. Nicholas, Andrew, +George, Kasian, &c.</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_329">329</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdc">2. <i>Demons, &c.</i></td> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Part played by Demons in the Skazkas—On “Hasty Words,” +and Parental Curses; their power to subject persons to demoniacal +possession—The dulness of Demons; Stories about +Tricks played upon them—Their Gratitude to those who treat +them with Kindness and their General Behavior—Various +Legends about Devils—Moral Tale of the Gossip’s Bedstead</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_361">361</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span></p> +<h2>STORY-LIST.</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="List of Stories"> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"> </td> + <td class="tdlsc"> </td> + <td class="tdr"><span class="smcap lowercase">PAGE.</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Fiend</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Dead Mother</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_32">32</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Dead Witch</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Treasure</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Cross-Surety</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Awful Drunkard</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Bad Wife</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Golovikha</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Three Copecks</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">X.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Miser</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_60">60</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Fool and the Birch-Tree</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Mizgir</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Smith and the Demon</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Ivan Popyalof</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Norka</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Marya Morevna</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_97">97</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Koshchei the Deathless</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Water Snake</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_126">126</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Water King and Vasilissa the Wise</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_130">130</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Baba Yaga</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Vasilissa the Fair</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_158">158</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Witch</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_171">171</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Witch and the Sun’s Sister</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_178">178</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span>XXIV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">One-Eyed Likho</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Woe</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_193">193</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Friday</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_207">207</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Wednesday</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_208">208</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Léshy</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Vazuza and Volga</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Sozh and Dnieper</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Metamorphosis of the Dnieper, the Volga, and the Dvina</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_217">217</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Frost</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Blind Man and the Cripple</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_246">246</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXIV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Princess Helena the Fair</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_262">262</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Emilian the Fool</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_269">269</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXVI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Witch Girl</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274">274</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXVII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Headless Princess</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXVIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Soldier’s Midnight Watch</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XXXIX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Warlock</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XL.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Fox-Physician</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_296">296</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Fiddler in Hell</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Ride on the Gravestone</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_308">308</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Two Friends</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_309">309</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLIV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Shroud</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_311"><ins class="correction" title="351 in original">311</ins></a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLV.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Coffin-Lid</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLVI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Two Corpses</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLVII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Dog and the Corpse</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_317"><ins class="correction" title="316 in original">317</ins></a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLVIII.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Soldier and the Vampire</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XLIX.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">Elijah the Prophet and Nicholas</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_344">344</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">L.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Priest with the Greedy Eyes</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_355">355</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">LI.</td> + <td class="tdlsc">The Hasty Word</td> + <td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_370">370</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span></p> +<h1 style="padding-top: 3em; padding-bottom: 2em;">RUSSIAN FOLK-TALES.</h1> + + + +<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>INTRODUCTORY.</h3> + + +<p>There are but few among those inhabitants of Fairy-land +of whom “Popular Tales” tell, who are better known to the +outer world than Cinderella—the despised and flouted +younger sister, who long sits unnoticed beside the hearth, +then furtively visits the glittering halls of the great and +gay, and at last is transferred from her obscure nook to +the place of honor justly due to her tardily acknowledged +merits. Somewhat like the fortunes of Cinderella have +been those of the popular tale itself. Long did it dwell +beside the hearths of the common people, utterly ignored +by their superiors in social rank. Then came a period +during which the cultured world recognized its existence, +but accorded to it no higher rank than that allotted to +“nursery stories” and “old wives’ tales”—except, indeed, +on those rare occasions when the charity of a condescending +scholar had invested it with such a garb as was supposed +to enable it to make a respectable appearance in +polite society. At length there arrived the season of its +final change, when, transferred from the dusk of the peasant’s +hut into the full light of the outer day, and freed +from the unbecoming garments by which it had been +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +disfigured, it was recognized as the scion of a family so truly +royal that some of its members deduce their origin from +the olden gods themselves.</p> + +<p>In our days the folk-tale, instead of being left to the +careless guardianship of youth and ignorance, is sedulously +tended and held in high honor by the ripest of scholars. +Their views with regard to its origin may differ widely. +But whether it be considered in one of its phases as a +distorted “nature-myth,” or in another as a demoralized +apologue or parable—whether it be regarded at one time +as a relic of primeval wisdom, or at another as a blurred +transcript of a page of <ins class="correction" title="medieval in original">mediæval</ins> history—its critics agree +in declaring it to be no mere creation of the popular fancy, +no chance expression of the uncultured thought of the +rude tiller of this or that soil. Rather is it believed of +most folk-tales that they, in their original forms, were +framed centuries upon centuries ago; while of some of +them it is supposed that they may be traced back through +successive ages to those myths in which, during a prehistoric +period, the oldest of philosophers expressed their +ideas relative to the material or the spiritual world.</p> + +<p>But it is not every popular tale which can boast of so +noble a lineage, and one of the great difficulties which +beset the mythologist who attempts to discover the original +meaning of folk-tales in general is to decide which of them +are really antique, and worthy, therefore, of being submitted +to critical analysis. Nor is it less difficult, when +dealing with the stories of any one country in particular, +to settle which may be looked upon as its own property, +and which ought to be considered as borrowed and adapted. +Everyone knows that the existence of the greater part of +the stories current among the various European peoples is +accounted for on two different hypotheses—the one +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +supposing that most of them “were common in germ at least +to the Aryan tribes before their migration,” and that, +therefore, “these traditions are as much a portion of the +common inheritance of our ancestors as their language +unquestionably is:”<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> the other regarding at least a great +part of them as foreign importations, Oriental fancies +which were originally introduced into Europe, through a +series of translations, by the pilgrims and merchants who +were always linking the East and the West together, or by +the emissaries of some of the heretical sects, or in the +train of such warlike transferrers as the Crusaders, or the +Arabs who ruled in Spain, or the Tartars who so long held +the Russia of old times in their grasp. According to the +former supposition, “these very stories, these <i>Mährchen</i>, +which nurses still tell, with almost the same words, in the +Thuringian forest and in the Norwegian villages, and to +which crowds of children listen under the pippal trees of +India,”<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> belong “to the common heirloom of the Indo-European +race;” according to the latter, the majority of +European popular tales are merely naturalized aliens in +Europe, being as little the inheritance of its present inhabitants +as were the stories and fables which, by a circuitous +route, were transmitted from India to Boccaccio +or La Fontaine.</p> + +<p>On the questions to which these two conflicting hypotheses +give rise we will not now dwell. For the present, we +will deal with the Russian folk-tale as we find it, attempting +to become acquainted with its principal characteristics +to see in what respects it chiefly differs from the stories of +the same class which are current among ourselves, or in +those foreign lands with which we are more familiar than +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> +we are with Russia, rather than to explore its birthplace +or to divine its original meaning.</p> + +<p>We often hear it said, that from the songs and stories +of a country we may learn much about the inner life of its +people, inasmuch as popular utterances of this kind always +bear the stamp of the national character, offer a reflex of +the national mind. So far as folk-songs are concerned, +this statement appears to be well founded, but it can be +applied to the folk-tales of Europe only within very narrow +limits. Each country possesses certain stories which have +special reference to its own manners and customs, and by +collecting such tales as these, something approximating to +a picture of its national life may be laboriously pieced +together. But the stories of this class are often nothing +more than comparatively modern adaptations of old and +foreign themes; nor are they sufficiently numerous, so far +as we can judge from existing collections, to render by +any means complete the national portrait for which they +are expected to supply the materials. In order to fill up the +gaps they leave, it is necessary to bring together a number +of fragments taken from stories which evidently refer to +another clime—fragments which may be looked upon as +excrescences or developments due to the novel influences +to which the foreign slip, or seedling, or even full-grown +plant, has been subjected since its transportation.</p> + +<p>The great bulk of the Russian folk-tales, and, indeed, +of those of all the Indo-European nations, is devoted to +the adventures of such fairy princes and princesses, such +snakes and giants and demons, as are quite out of keeping +with ordinary men and women—at all events with the inhabitants +of modern Europe since the termination of those +internecine struggles between aboriginals and invaders, +which some commentators see typified in the combats +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +between the heroes of our popular tales and the whole +race of giants, trolls, ogres, snakes, dragons, and other +monsters. The air we breathe in them is that of Fairy-land; +the conditions of existence, the relations between +the human race and the spiritual world on the one hand, +the material world on the other, are totally inconsistent +with those to which we are now restricted. There is +boundless freedom of intercourse between mortals and +immortals, between mankind and the brute creation, and, +although there are certain conventional rules which must +always be observed, they are not those which are enforced +by any people known to anthropologists. The stories +which are common to all Europe differ, no doubt, in different +countries, but their variations, so far as their matter is +concerned, seem to be due less to the moral character than +to the geographical distribution of their reciters. The +manner in which these tales are told, however, may often +be taken as a test of the intellectual capacity of their +tellers. For in style the folk-tale changes greatly as it +travels. A story which we find narrated in one country +with terseness and precision may be rendered almost unintelligible +in another by vagueness or verbiage; by one +race it may be elevated into poetic life, by another it may +be degraded into the most prosaic dulness.</p> + +<p>Now, so far as style is concerned, the Skazkas or Russian +folk-tales, may justly be said to be characteristic of the +Russian people. There are numerous points on which the +“lower classes” of all the Aryan peoples in Europe closely +resemble each other, but the Russian peasant has—in +common with all his Slavonic brethren—a genuine talent +for narrative which distinguishes him from some of his more +distant cousins. And the stories which are current among +the Russian peasantry are for the most part exceedingly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +well narrated. Their language is simple and pleasantly +quaint, their humor is natural and unobtrusive, and their +descriptions, whether of persons or of events, are often +excellent.<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> A taste for acting is widely spread in Russia, +and the Russian folk-tales are full of dramatic positions +which offer a wide scope for a display of their reciter’s +mimetic talents. Every here and there, indeed, a tag of +genuine comedy has evidently been attached by the story-teller +to a narrative which in its original form was probably +devoid of the comic element.</p> + +<p>And thus from the Russian tales may be derived some +idea of the mental characteristics of the Russian peasantry—one +which is very incomplete, but, within its narrow +limits, sufficiently accurate. And a similar statement may +be made with respect to the pictures of Russian peasant life +contained in these tales. So far as they go they are true to +nature, and the notion which they convey to a stranger of +the manners and customs of Russian villagers is not likely +to prove erroneous, but they do not go very far. On some +of the questions which are likely to be of the greatest interest +to a foreigner they never touch. There is very little +information to be gleaned from them, for instance, with regard +to the religious views of the people, none with respect +to the relations which, during the times of serfdom, existed +between the lord and the thrall. But from the casual +references to actual scenes and ordinary occupations which +every here and there occur in the descriptions of fairy-land +and the narratives of heroic adventure—from the realistic +vignettes which are sometimes inserted between the idealized +portraits of invincible princes and irresistible +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +princesses—some idea may be obtained of the usual aspect of +a Russian village, and of the ordinary behavior of its inhabitants. +Turning from one to another of these accidental +illustrations, we by degrees create a mental picture +which is not without its peculiar charm. We see the wide +sweep of the level corn-land, the gloom of the interminable +forest, the gleam of the slowly winding river. We pass +along the single street of the village, and glance at its +wooden barn-like huts,<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> so different from the ideal English +cottage with its windows set deep in ivy and its porch smiling +with roses. We see the land around a Slough of Despond +in the spring, an unbroken sea of green in the early +summer, a blaze of gold at harvest-time, in the winter one +vast sheet of all but untrodden snow. On Sundays and +holidays we accompany the villagers to their white-walled, +green-domed church, and afterwards listen to the songs +which the girls sing in the summer choral dances, or take +part in the merriment of the social gatherings, which enliven +the long nights of winter. Sometimes the quaint lyric +drama of a peasant wedding is performed before our eyes, +sometimes we follow a funeral party to one of those dismal +and desolate nooks in which the Russian villagers deposit +their dead. On working days we see the peasants driving +afield in the early morn with their long lines of carts, to +till the soil, or ply the scythe or sickle or axe, till the day +is done and their rude carts come creaking back. We +hear the songs and laughter of the girls beside the stream +or pool which ripples pleasantly against its banks in the +summer time, but in the winter shows no sign of life, except +at the spot, much frequented by the wives and daughters +of the village, where an “ice-hole” has been cut in its +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +massive pall. And at night we see the homely dwellings +of the villagers assume a picturesque aspect to which they +are strangers by the tell-tale light of day, their rough lines +softened by the mellow splendor of a summer moon, or +their unshapely forms looming forth mysteriously against +the starlit snow of winter. Above all we become familiar +with those cottage interiors to which the stories contain so +many references. Sometimes we see the better class of +homestead, surrounded by its fence through which we pass +between the often-mentioned gates. After a glance at the +barns and cattle-sheds, and at the garden which supplies +the family with fruits and vegetables (on flowers, alas! but +little store is set in the northern provinces), we cross the +threshold, a spot hallowed by many traditions, and pass, +through what in more pretentious houses may be called the +vestibule, into the “living room.” We become well acquainted +with its arrangements, with the cellar beneath its wooden +floor, with the “corner of honor” in which are placed +the “holy pictures,” and with the stove which occupies so +large a share of space, within which daily beats, as it were +the heart of the house, above which is nightly taken the repose +of the family. Sometimes we visit the hut of the +poverty-stricken peasant, more like a shed for cattle than a +human habitation, with a mud-floor and a tattered roof, +through which the smoke makes its devious way. In these +poorer dwellings we witness much suffering; but we learn +to respect the patience and resignation with which it is +generally borne, and in the greater part of the humble +homes we visit we become aware of the existence of many +domestic virtues, we see numerous tokens of family affection, +of filial reverence, of parental love. And when, as we +pass along the village street at night, we see gleaming +through the utter darkness the faint rays which tell that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +even in many a poverty-stricken home a lamp is burning +before the “holy pictures,” we feel that these poor tillers of +the soil, ignorant and uncouth though they too often are, +may be raised at times by lofty thoughts and noble aspirations +far above the low level of the dull and hard lives +which they are forced to lead.</p> + +<p>From among the stories which contain the most graphic +descriptions of Russian village life, or which may be regarded +as specially illustrative of Russian sentiment and humor +those which the present chapter contains have been selected. +Any information they may convey will necessarily be +of a most fragmentary nature, but for all that it may be +capable of producing a correct impression. A painter’s +rough notes and jottings are often more true to nature than +the most finished picture into which they may be developed.</p> + +<p>The word skazka, or folk-tale, does not very often occur +in the Russian popular tales themselves. Still there are +occasions on which it appears. The allusions to it are for +the most part indirect, as when a princess is said to be more +beautiful than anybody ever was, except in a skazka; but +sometimes it obtains direct notice. In a story, for instance, +of a boy who had been carried off by a Baba Yaga (a +species of witch), we are told that when his sister came to +his rescue she found him “sitting in an arm-chair, while the +cat Jeremiah told him skazkas and sang him songs.”<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> In +another story, a <i>Durak</i>,—a “ninny” or “gowk”—is sent to +take care of the children of a village during the absence of +their parents. “Go and get all the children together in one +of the cottages and tell them skazkas,” are his instructions. +He collects the children, but as they are “all ever so dirty” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +he puts them into boiling water by way of cleansing them, +and so washes them to death.<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a></p> + +<p>There is a good deal of social life in the Russian villages +during the long winter evenings, and at some of the +gatherings which then take place skazkas are told, though +at those in which only the young people participate, songs, +games, and dances are more popular. The following skazka +has been selected on account of the descriptions of a +<i>vechernitsa</i>, or village <i>soirée</i>,<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> and of a rustic courtship, +which its opening scene contains. The rest of the story is +not remarkable for its fidelity to modern life, but it will +serve as a good illustration of the class to which it belongs—that +of stories about evil spirits, traceable, for the most +part, to Eastern sources.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Fiend.</span><a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain country there lived an old couple who had a daughter +called Marusia (Mary). In their village it was customary to +celebrate the feast of St. Andrew the First-Called (November +30). The girls used to assemble in some cottage, bake <i>pampushki</i>,<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> +and enjoy themselves for a whole week, or even longer. +Well, the girls met together once when this festival arrived, and +brewed and baked what was wanted. In the evening came the +lads with the music, bringing liquor with them, and dancing and +revelry commenced. All the girls danced well, but Marusia the +best of all. After a while there came into the cottage such a +fine fellow! Marry, come up! regular blood and milk, and +smartly and richly dressed.</p> + +<p>“Hail, fair maidens!” says he.</p> + +<p>“Hail, good youth!” say they.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +“You’re merry-making?”</p> + +<p>“Be so good as to join us.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon he pulled out of his pocket a purse full of gold, +ordered liquor, nuts and gingerbread. All was ready in a trice, +and he began treating the lads and lasses, giving each a share. +Then he took to dancing. Why, it was a treat to look at him! +Marusia struck his fancy more than anyone else; so he stuck +close to her. The time came for going home.</p> + +<p>“Marusia,” says he, “come and see me off.”</p> + +<p>She went to see him off.</p> + +<p>“Marusia, sweetheart!” says he, “would you like me to +marry you?”</p> + +<p>“If you like to marry me, I will gladly marry you. But +where do you come from?”</p> + +<p>“From such and such a place. I’m clerk at a merchant’s.”</p> + +<p>Then they bade each other farewell and separated. When +Marusia got home, her mother asked her:</p> + +<p>“Well, daughter! have you enjoyed yourself?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, mother. But I’ve something pleasant to tell you besides. +There was a lad there from the neighborhood, good-looking +and with lots of money, and he promised to marry me.”</p> + +<p>“Harkye Marusia! When you go to where the girls are to-morrow, +take a ball of thread with you, make a noose in it, and, +when you are going to see him off, throw it over one of his buttons, +and quietly unroll the ball; then, by means of the thread, +you will be able to find out where he lives.”</p> + +<p>Next day Marusia went to the gathering, and took a ball of +thread with her. The youth came again.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, Marusia!” said he.</p> + +<p>“Good evening!” said she.</p> + +<p>Games began and dances. Even more than before did he +stick to Marusia, not a step would he budge from her. The time +came for going home.</p> + +<p>“Come and see me off, Marusia!” says the stranger.</p> + +<p>She went out into the street, and while she was taking leave +of him she quietly dropped the noose over one of his buttons. +He went his way, but she remained where she was, unrolling the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> +ball. When she had unrolled the whole of it, she ran after the +thread to find out where her betrothed lived. At first the thread +followed the road, then it stretched across hedges and ditches, +and led Marusia towards the church and right up to the porch. +Marusia tried the door; it was locked. She went round the +church, found a ladder, set it against a window, and climbed up +it to see what was going on inside. Having got into the church, +she looked—and saw her betrothed standing beside a grave and +devouring a dead body—for a corpse had been left for that +night in the church.</p> + +<p>She wanted to get down the ladder quietly, but her fright prevented +her from taking proper heed, and she made a little noise. +Then she ran home—almost beside herself, fancying all the +time she was being pursued. She was all but dead before she +got in. Next morning her mother asked her:</p> + +<p>“Well, Marusia! did you see the youth?”</p> + +<p>“I saw him, mother,” she replied. But what else she had +seen she did not tell.</p> + +<p>In the morning Marusia was sitting, considering whether she +would go to the gathering or not.</p> + +<p>“Go,” said her mother. “Amuse yourself while you’re +young!”</p> + +<p>So she went to the gathering; the Fiend<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> was there already. +Games, fun, dancing, began anew; the girls knew nothing of +what had happened. When they began to separate and go +homewards:</p> + +<p>“Come, Marusia!” says the Evil One, “see me off.”</p> + +<p>She was afraid, and didn’t stir. Then all the other girls +opened out upon her.</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking about? Have you grown so bashful, +forsooth? Go and see the good lad off.”</p> + +<p>There was no help for it. Out she went, not knowing what +would come of it. As soon as they got into the streets he began +questioning her:</p> + +<p>“You were in the church last night?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +“No.”</p> + +<p>“And saw what I was doing there?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Very well! To-morrow your father will die!”</p> + +<p>Having said this, he disappeared.</p> + +<p>Marusia returned home grave and sad. When she woke up +in the morning, her father lay dead!</p> + +<p>They wept and wailed over him, and laid him in the coffin. +In the evening her mother went off to the priest’s, but Marusia +remained at home. At last she became afraid of being alone in +the house. “Suppose I go to my friends,” she thought. So +she went, and found the Evil One there.</p> + +<p>“Good evening, Marusia! why arn’t you merry?”</p> + +<p>“How can I be merry? My father is dead!”</p> + +<p>“Oh! poor thing!”</p> + +<p>They all grieved for her. Even the Accursed One himself +grieved; just as if it hadn’t all been his own doing. By and by +they began saying farewell and going home.</p> + +<p>“Marusia,” says he, “see me off.”</p> + +<p>She didn’t want to.</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking of, child?” insist the girls. “What +are you afraid of? Go and see him off.”</p> + +<p>So she went to see him off. They passed out into the street.</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Marusia,” says he, “were you in the church?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Did you see what I was doing?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Very well! To-morrow your mother will die.”</p> + +<p>He spoke and disappeared. Marusia returned home sadder +than ever. The night went by; next morning, when she awoke, +her mother lay dead! She cried all day long; but when the +sun set, and it grew dark around, Marusia became afraid of +being left alone; so she went to her companions.</p> + +<p>“Why, whatever’s the matter with you? you’re clean out of +countenance!”<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> say the girls.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +“How am I likely to be cheerful? Yesterday my father +died, and to-day my mother.”</p> + +<p>“Poor thing! Poor unhappy girl!” they all exclaim sympathizingly.</p> + +<p>Well, the time came to say good-bye. “See me off, Marusia,” +says the Fiend. So she went out to see him off.</p> + +<p>“Tell me; were you in the church?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“And saw what I was doing?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Very well! To-morrow evening you will die yourself!”</p> + +<p>Marusia spent the night with her friends; in the morning +she got up and considered what she should do. She bethought +herself that she had a grandmother—an old, very old woman, +who had become blind from length of years. “Suppose I go +and ask her advice,” she said, and then went off to her grandmother’s.</p> + +<p>“Good-day, granny!” says she.</p> + +<p>“Good-day, granddaughter! What news is there with you? +How are your father and mother?”</p> + +<p>“They are dead, granny,” replied the girl, and then told +her all that had happened.</p> + +<p>The old woman listened, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Oh dear me! my poor unhappy child! Go quickly to the +priest, and ask him this favor—that if you die, your body shall +not be taken out of the house through the doorway, but that the +ground shall be dug away from under the threshold, and that +you shall be dragged out through that opening. And also beg +that you may be buried at a crossway, at a spot where four +roads meet.”</p> + +<p>Marusia went to the priest, wept bitterly, and made him promise +to do everything according to her grandmother’s instructions. +Then she returned home, bought a coffin, lay down in it, +and straightway expired.</p> + +<p>Well, they told the priest, and he buried, first her father and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> +mother, and then Marusia herself. Her body was passed underneath +the threshold and buried at a crossway.</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards a seigneur’s son happened to drive past +Marusia’s grave. On that grave he saw growing a wondrous +flower, such a one as he had never seen before. Said the +young seigneur to his servant:—</p> + +<p>“Go and pluck up that flower by the roots. We’ll take +it home and put it in a flower-pot. Perhaps it will blossom +there.”</p> + +<p>Well, they dug up the flower, took it home, put it in a glazed +flower-pot, and set it in a window. The flower began to grow +larger and more beautiful. One night the servant hadn’t gone +to sleep somehow, and he happened to be looking at the window, +when he saw a wondrous thing take place. All of a sudden the +flower began to tremble, then it fell from its stem to the ground, +and turned into a lovely maiden. The flower was beautiful, but +the maiden was more beautiful still. She wandered from room +to room, got herself various things to eat and drink, ate and +drank, then stamped upon the ground and became a flower +as before, mounted to the window, and resumed her place upon +the stem. Next day the servant told the young seigneur of the +wonders which he had seen during the night.</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother!” said the youth, “why didn’t you wake me? +To-night we’ll both keep watch together.”</p> + +<p>The night came; they slept not, but watched. Exactly at +twelve o’clock the blossom began to shake, flew from place to +place, and then fell to the ground, and the beautiful maiden +appeared, got herself things to eat and drink, and sat down to +supper. The young seigneur rushed forward and seized her by +her white hands. Impossible was it for him sufficiently to look +at her, to gaze on her beauty!</p> + +<p>Next morning he said to his father and mother, “Please +allow me to get married. I’ve found myself a bride.”</p> + +<p>His parents gave their consent. As for Marusia, she said:</p> + +<p>“Only on this condition will I marry you—that for four years +I need not go to church.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +“Very good,” said he.</p> + +<p>Well, they were married, and they lived together one year, +two years, and had a son. But one day they had visitors at +their house, who enjoyed themselves, and drank, and began +bragging about their wives. This one’s wife was handsome; +that one’s was handsomer still.</p> + +<p>“You may say what you like,” says the host, “but a handsomer +wife than mine does not exist in the whole world!”</p> + +<p>“Handsome, yes!” reply the guests, “but a heathen.”</p> + +<p>“How so?”</p> + +<p>“Why, she never goes to church.”</p> + +<p>Her husband found these observations distasteful. He +waited till Sunday, and then told his wife to get dressed for +church.</p> + +<p>“I don’t care what you may say,” says he. “Go and get +ready directly.”</p> + +<p>Well, they got ready, and went to church. The husband +went in—didn’t see anything particular. But when she looked +round—there was the Fiend sitting at a window.</p> + +<p>“Ha! here you are, at last!” he cried. “Remember old +times. Were you in the church that night?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“And did you see what I was doing there?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“Very well! To-morrow both your husband and your son will +die.”</p> + +<p>Marusia rushed straight out of the church and away to her +grandmother. The old woman gave her two phials, the one full +of holy water, the other of the water of life, and told her what +she was to do. Next day both Marusia’s husband and her son +died. Then the Fiend came flying to her and asked:—</p> + +<p>“Tell me; were you in the church?”</p> + +<p>“I was.”</p> + +<p>“And did you see what I was doing?”</p> + +<p>“You were eating a corpse.”</p> + +<p>She spoke, and splashed the holy water over him; in a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> +moment he turned into mere dust and ashes, which blew to the +winds. Afterwards she sprinkled her husband and her boy with +the water of life: straightway they revived. And from that +time forward they knew neither sorrow nor separation, but they +all lived together long and happily.<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Another lively sketch of a peasant’s love-making is +given in the introduction to the story of “Ivan the widow’s +son and Grisha.”<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> The tale is one of magic and enchantment, +of living clouds and seven-headed snakes; but the +opening is a little piece of still-life very quaintly portrayed. +A certain villager, named Trofim, having been unable to +find a wife, his Aunt Melania comes to his aid, promising +to procure him an interview with a widow who has been +left well provided for, and whose personal appearance is +attractive—“real blood and milk! When she’s got on her +holiday clothes, she’s as fine as a peacock!” Trofim +grovels with gratitude at his aunt’s feet. “My own dear +auntie, Melania Prokhorovna, get me married for heaven’s +sake! I’ll buy you an embroidered kerchief in return, the +very best in the whole market.” The widow comes to pay +Melania a visit, and is induced to believe, on the evidence +of beans (frequently used for the purpose of divination), +that her destined husband is close at hand. At this propitious +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +moment Trofim appears. Melania makes a little +speech to the young couple, ending her recommendation +to get married with the words:—</p> + +<p>“I can see well enough by the bridegroom’s eyes that +the bride is to his taste, only I don’t know what the bride +thinks about taking him.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t mind!” says the widow. “Well, then, glory +be to God! Now, stand up, we’ll say a prayer before the +Holy Pictures; then give each other a kiss, and go in +Heaven’s name and get married at once!” And so the +question is settled.</p> + +<p>From a courtship and a marriage in peasant life we +may turn to a death and a burial. There are frequent +allusions in the Skazkas to these gloomy subjects, with +reference to which we will quote two stories, the one +pathetic, the other (unintentionally) grotesque. Neither of +them bears any title in the original, but we may style the +first—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Dead Mother.</span><a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain village there lived a husband and wife—lived happily, +lovingly, peaceably. All their neighbors envied them; the +sight of them gave pleasure to honest folks. Well, the mistress +<ins class="correction" title="bare in original">bore</ins> a son, but directly after it was born she died. +The poor moujik moaned and wept. Above all he was in despair +about the babe. How was he to nourish it now? how to +bring it up without its mother? He did what was best, and +hired an old woman to look after it. Only here was a wonder! +all day long the babe would take no food, and did nothing but +cry; there was no soothing it anyhow. But during (a great +part of) the night one could fancy it wasn’t there at all, so silently +and peacefully did it sleep.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +“What’s the meaning of this?” thinks the old woman; “suppose +I keep awake to-night; may be I shall find out.”</p> + +<p>Well, just at midnight she heard some one quietly open the +door and go up to the cradle. The babe became still, just as if +it was being suckled.</p> + +<p>The next night the same thing took place, and the third +night, too. Then she told the moujik about it. He called his +kinsfolk together, and held counsel with them. They determined +on this; to keep awake on a certain night, and to spy out +who it was that came to suckle the babe. So at eventide they +all lay down on the floor, and beside them they set a lighted +taper hidden in an earthen pot.</p> + +<p>At midnight the cottage door opened. Some one stepped +up to the cradle. The babe became still. At that moment one +of the kinsfolk suddenly brought out the light. They looked, +and saw the dead mother, in the very same clothes in which +she had been buried, on her knees besides the cradle, over +which she bent as she suckled the babe at her dead breast.</p> + +<p>The moment the light shone in the cottage she stood up, +gazed sadly on her little one, and then went out of the room +without a sound, not saying a word to anyone. All those who +saw her stood for a time terror-struck; and then they found the +babe was dead.<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The second story will serve as an illustration of one of +the Russian customs with respect to the dead, and also of +the ideas about witchcraft, still prevalent in Russia. We +may create for it the title of—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Dead Witch.</span><a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was once an old woman who was a terrible witch, and +she had a daughter and a granddaughter. The time came for +the old crone to die, so she summoned her daughter and gave +her these instructions:</p> + +<p>“Mind, daughter! when I’m dead, don’t you wash my body +with lukewarm water; but fill a cauldron, make it boil its very +hottest, and then with that boiling water regularly scald me all +over.”</p> + +<p>After saying this, the witch lay ill two or three days, and +then died. The daughter ran round to all her neighbors, begging +them to come and help her to wash the old woman, and +meantime the little granddaughter was left all alone in the cottage. +And this is what she saw there. All of a sudden there +crept out from beneath the stove two demons—a big one and +a tiny one—and they ran up to the dead witch. The old demon +seized her by the feet, and tore away at her so that he stripped +off all her skin at one pull. Then he said to the little demon:</p> + +<p>“Take the flesh for yourself, and lug it under the stove.”</p> + +<p>So the little demon flung his arms round the carcase, and +dragged it under the stove. Nothing was left of the old woman +but her skin. Into it the old demon inserted himself, and then +he lay down just where the witch had been lying.</p> + +<p>Presently the daughter came back, bringing a dozen other +women with her, and they all set to work laying out the corpse.</p> + +<p>“Mammy,” says the child, “they’ve pulled granny’s skin off +while you were away.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by telling such lies?”</p> + +<p>“It’s quite true, Mammy! There was ever such a blackie +came from under the stove, and he pulled the skin off, and got +into it himself.”</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue, naughty child! you’re talking nonsense!” +cried the old crone’s daughter; then she fetched a big cauldron, +filled it with cold water, put it on the stove, and heated it till it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +boiled furiously. Then the women lifted up the old crone, laid +her in a trough, took hold of the cauldron, and poured the whole +of the boiling water over her at once. The demon couldn’t +stand it. He leaped out of the trough, dashed through the +doorway, and disappeared, skin and all. The women stared:</p> + +<p>“What marvel is this?” they cried. “Here was the dead +woman, and now she isn’t here. There’s nobody left to lay out +or to bury. The demons have carried her off before our very +eyes!”<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">A Russian peasant funeral is preceded or accompanied +by a considerable amount of wailing, which answers in +some respect to the Irish “keening.” To the <i>zaplachki</i>,<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a> +or laments, which are uttered on such occasions—frequently +by hired wailers, who closely resemble the Corsican +“vociferators,” the modern Greek “myrologists”—allusions +are sometimes made in the Skazkas. In the “Fox-wailer,”<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a> +for example—one of the variants of the well-known +“Jack and the Beanstalk” story—an old man puts +his wife in a bag and attempts to carry her up the beanstalk +to heaven. Becoming tired on the way, he drops the +bag, and the old woman is killed. After weeping over her +dead body he sets out in search of a Wailer. Meeting a +bear, he cries, “Wail a bit, Bear, for my old woman! I’ll +give you a pair of nice white fowls.” The bear growls +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +out “Oh, dear granny of mine! how I grieve for thee!” +“No, no!” says the old man, “you can’t wail.” Going a +little further he tries a wolf, but the wolf succeeds no better +than the bear. At last a fox comes by, and on being appealed +to, begins to cry aloud “Turu-Turu, grandmother! +grandfather has killed thee!”—a wail which pleases the +widower so much that he hands over the fowls to the fox +at once, and asks, enraptured, for “that strain again!”<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a></p> + +<p>One of the most curious of the stories which relate to a +village burial,—one in which also the feeling with which +the Russian villagers sometimes regard their clergy finds +expression—is that called—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Treasure.</span><a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain kingdom there lived an old couple in great poverty. +Sooner or later the old woman died. It was in winter, in severe +and frosty weather. The old man went round to his friends and +neighbors, begging them to help him to dig a grave for the old +woman; but his friends and neighbors, knowing his great poverty, +all flatly refused. The old man went to the pope,<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> (but in that +village they had an awfully grasping pope, one without any +conscience), and says he:—</p> + +<p>“Lend a hand, reverend father, to get my old woman buried.”</p> + +<p>“But have you got any money to pay for the funeral? if +so, friend, pay up beforehand!”</p> + +<p>“It’s no use hiding anything from you. Not a single copeck +have I at home. But if you’ll wait a little, I’ll earn some, and +then I’ll pay you with interest—on my word I’ll pay you!”</p> + +<p>The pope wouldn’t so much as listen to the old man.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +“If you haven’t any money, don’t you dare to come here,” +says he.</p> + +<p>“What’s to be done?” thinks the old man. “I’ll go to the +<ins class="correction" title="garveyard in original">graveyard</ins>, dig a grave as I best can, and bury the old woman +myself.” So he took an axe and a shovel, and went to the graveyard. +When he got there he began to prepare a grave. He +chopped away the frozen ground on the top with the axe, and +then he took to the shovel. He dug and dug, and at last he dug +out a metal pot. Looking into it he saw that it was stuffed full +of ducats that shone like fire. The old man was immensely delighted, +and cried, “Glory be to Thee, O Lord! I shall have +wherewithal both to bury my old woman, and to perform the +rites of remembrance.”</p> + +<p>He did not go on digging the grave any longer, but took the +pot of gold and carried it home. Well, we all know what money +will do—everything went as smooth as oil! In a trice there +were found good folks to dig the grave and fashion the coffin. +The old man sent his daughter-in-law to purchase meat and +drink and different kind of relishes—everything there ought to +be at memorial feasts—and he himself took a ducat in his hand +and hobbled <ins class="correction" title="pack in original">back</ins> again to the pope’s. The moment he reached +the door, out flew the pope at him.</p> + +<p>“You were distinctly told, you old lout, that you were not to +come here without money; and now you’ve slunk back again.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be angry, batyushka,”<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> said the old man imploringly. +“Here’s gold for you. If you’ll only bury my old woman, I’ll +never forget your kindness.”</p> + +<p>The pope took the money, and didn’t know how best to +receive the old man, where to seat him, with what words to +smooth him down. “Well now, old friend! Be of good cheer; +everything shall be done,” said he.</p> + +<p>The old man made his bow, and went home, and the pope +and his wife began talking about him.</p> + +<p>“There now, the old hunks!” they say. “So poor, forsooth, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +so poor! And yet he’s paid a gold piece. Many a defunct +person of quality have I buried in my time, but I never got so +from anyone before.”</p> + +<p>The pope got under weigh with all his retinue, and buried +the old crone in proper style. After the funeral the old man +invited him to his house, to take part in the feast in memory of +the dead. Well, they entered the cottage, and sat down to table—and +there appeared from somewhere or other meat and drink +and all sorts of snacks, everything in profusion. The (reverend) +guest sat down, ate for three people, looked greedily at what +was not his. The (other) guests finished their meal, and separated +to go to their homes; then the pope also rose from the +table. The old man went to speed him on his way. As soon +as they got into the farmyard, and the pope saw they were alone +at last, he began questioning the old man: “Listen, friend! +confess to me, don’t leave so much as a single sin on your soul—it’s +just the same before me as before God! How have you +managed to get on at such a pace? You used to be a poor +moujik, and now—marry! where did it come from? Confess, +friend, whose breath have you stopped? whom have you +pillaged?”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about, batyushka? I will tell you the +exact truth. I have not robbed, nor plundered, nor killed anyone. +A treasure tumbled into my hands of its own accord.”</p> + +<p>And he told him how it all happened. When the pope +heard these words he actually shook all over with greediness. +Going home, he did nothing by night and by day but think, +“That such a wretched lout of a moujik should have come in +for such a lump of money! Is there any way of tricking him +now, and getting this pot of money out of him?” He told his +wife about it, and he and she discussed the matter together, and +held counsel over it.</p> + +<p>“Listen, mother,” says he; “we’ve a goat, haven’t we?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“All right, then; we’ll wait until it’s night, and then we’ll do +the job properly.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +Late in the evening the pope dragged the goat indoors, killed +it, and took off its skin—horns, beard, and all complete. Then +he pulled the goat’s skin over himself and said to his wife:</p> + +<p>“Bring a needle and thread, mother, and fasten up the skin +all round, so that it mayn’t slip off.”</p> + +<p>So she took a strong needle, and some tough thread, and +sewed him up in the goatskin. Well, at the dead of night, the +pope went straight to the old man’s cottage, got under the window, +and began knocking and scratching. The old man hearing +the noise, jumped up and asked:</p> + +<p>“Who’s there?”</p> + +<p>“The Devil!”</p> + +<p>“Ours is a holy spot!<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>” shrieked the moujik, and began +crossing himself and uttering prayers.</p> + +<p>“Listen, old man,” says the pope, “From me thou will not +escape, although thou may’st pray, although thou may’st cross +thyself; much better give me back my pot of money, otherwise I +will make thee pay for it. See now, I pitied thee in thy misfortune, +and I showed thee the treasure, thinking thou wouldst +take a little of it to pay for the funeral, but thou hast pillaged it +utterly.”</p> + +<p>The old man looked out of window—the goat’s horns and +beard caught his eye—it was the Devil himself, no doubt of it.</p> + +<p>“Let’s get rid of him, money and all,” thinks the old man; +“I’ve lived before now without money, and now I’ll go on living +without it.”</p> + +<p>So he took the pot of gold, carried it outside, flung it on the +ground, and bolted indoors again as quickly as possible.</p> + +<p>The pope seized the pot of money, and hastened home. +When he got back, “Come,” says he, “the money is in our +hands now. Here, mother, put it well out of sight, and take a +sharp knife, cut the thread, and pull the goatskin off me before +anyone sees it.”</p> + +<p>She took a knife, and was beginning to cut the thread at the +seam, when forth flowed blood, and the pope began to howl:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +“Oh! it hurts, mother, it hurts! don’t cut mother, don’t +cut!”</p> + +<p>She began ripping the skin open in another place, but with +just the same result. The goatskin had united with his body all +round. And all that they tried, and all that they did, even to taking +the money back to the old man, was of no avail. The goatskin +remained clinging tight to the pope all the same. God evidently +did it to punish him for his great greediness.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">A somewhat less heathenish story with regard to money +is the following, which may be taken as a specimen of the +Skazkas which bear the impress of the genuine reverence +which the peasants feel for their religion, whatever may be +the feelings they entertain towards its ministers. While +alluding to this subject, by the way, it may be as well to +remark that no great reliance can be placed upon the +evidence contained in the folk-tales of any land, with respect +to the relations between its clergy and their flocks. +The local parson of folk-lore is, as a general rule, merely +the innocent inheritor of the bad reputation acquired by +some ecclesiastic of another age and clime.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Cross-Surety.</span><a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time two merchants lived in a certain town just on +the verge of a stream. One of them was a Russian, the other a +Tartar; both were rich. But the Russian got so utterly ruined +by some business or other that he hadn’t a single bit of property +left. Everything he had was confiscated or stolen. The Russian +merchant had nothing to turn to—he was left as poor as a +rat.<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> So he went to his friend the Tartar, and besought him to +lend him some money.</p> + +<p>“Get me a surety,” says the Tartar.</p> + +<p>“But whom can I get for you, seeing that I haven’t a soul +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +belonging to me? Stay, though! there’s a surety for you, the +life-giving cross on the church!”</p> + +<p>“Very good, my friend!” says the Tartar. “I’ll trust your +cross. Your faith or ours, it’s all one to me.”</p> + +<p>And he gave the Russian merchant fifty thousand roubles. +The Russian took the money, bade the Tartar farewell, and +went back to trade in divers places.</p> + +<p>By the end of two years he had gained a hundred and fifty +thousand <ins class="correction" title="rubles in original">roubles</ins> by the fifty thousand he had borrowed. Now +he happened to be sailing one day along the Danube, going with +wares from one place to another, when all of a sudden a storm +arose, and was on the point of sinking the ship he was in. Then +the merchant remembered how he had borrowed money, and +given the life-giving cross as a surety, but had not paid his debt. +That was doubtless the cause of the storm arising! No sooner +had he said this to himself than the storm began to subside. +The merchant took a barrel, counted out fifty thousand roubles, +wrote the Tartar a note, placed it, together with the money, in +the barrel, and then flung the barrel into the water, saying to +himself: “As I gave the cross as my surety to the Tartar, the +money will be certain to reach him.”</p> + +<p>The barrel straightway sank to the bottom; everyone supposed +the money was lost. But what happened? In the Tartar’s +house there lived a Russian kitchen-maid. One day she +happened to go to the river for water, and when she got there +she saw a barrel floating along. So she went a little way into +the water and began trying to get hold of it. But it wasn’t to be +done! When she made at the barrel, it retreated from her: +when she turned from the barrel to the shore, it floated after +her. She went on trying and trying for some time, then she +went home and told her master all that had happened. At first +he wouldn’t believe her, but at last he determined to go to the +river and see for himself what sort of barrel it was that was +floating there. When he got there—sure enough there was the +barrel floating, and not far from the shore. The Tartar took off +his clothes and went into the water; before he had gone any +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +distance the barrel came floating up to him of its own accord. +He laid hold of it, carried it home, opened it, and looked inside. +There he saw a quantity of money, and on top of the money a +note. He took out the note and read it, and this is what was +said in it:—</p> + +<p>“Dear friend! I return to you the fifty thousand roubles for +which, when I borrowed them from you, I gave the life-giving +cross as a surety.”</p> + +<p>The Tartar read these words and was astounded at the power +of the life-giving cross. He counted the money over to see +whether the full sum was really there. It was there exactly.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the Russian merchant, after trading some five +years, made a tolerable fortune. Well, he returned to his old +home, and, thinking that his barrel had been lost, he considered +it his first duty to settle with the Tartar. So he went to his +house and offered him the money he had borrowed. Then the +Tartar told him all that had happened and how he had found +the barrel in the river, with the money and the note inside it. +Then he showed him the note, saying:</p> + +<p>“Is that really your hand?”</p> + +<p>“It certainly is,” replied the other.</p> + +<p>Every one was astounded at this wondrous manifestation, +and the Tartar said:</p> + +<p>“Then I’ve no more money to receive from you, brother; +take that back again.”</p> + +<p>The Russian merchant had a service performed as a thank-offering +to God, and next day the Tartar was baptized with all +his household. The Russian merchant was his godfather, and +the kitchen-maid his godmother. After that they both lived +long and happily, survived to a great age, and then died peacefully.<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">There is one marked feature in the Russian peasant’s +character to which the Skazkas frequently refer—his passion +for drink. To him strong liquor is a friend, a comforter, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> +a solace amid the ills of life. Intoxication is not so +much an evil to be dreaded or remembered with shame, as +a joy to be fondly anticipated, or classed with the happy +memories of the past. By him drunkenness is regarded, +like sleep, as the friend of woe—and a friend whose services +can be even more readily commanded. On certain +occasions he almost believes that to get drunk is a duty he +owes either to the Church, or to the memory of the Dead; +at times without the slightest apparent cause, he is seized +by a sudden and irresistible craving for ardent spirits, and +he commences a drinking-bout which lasts—with intervals +of coma—for days, or even weeks, after which he resumes +his everyday life and his usual sobriety as calmly as if no +interruption had taken place. All these ideas and habits +of his find expression in his popular tales, giving rise to +incidents which are often singularly out of keeping with +the rest of the narrative in which they occur. In one of +the many variants,<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a> for instance, of a widespread and well +known story—that of the three princesses who are rescued +from captivity by a hero from whom they are afterwards +carried away, and who refuse to get married until certain +clothes or shoes or other things impossible for ordinary +workmen to make are supplied to them—an unfortunate +shoemaker is told that if he does not next day produce the +necessary shoes (of perfect fit, although no measure has +been taken, and all set thick with precious stones) he shall +be hanged. Away he goes at once to a <i>traktir</i>, or tavern, +and sets to work to drown his grief in drink. After awhile +he begins to totter. “Now then,” he says, “I’ll take home +a bicker of spirits with me, and go to bed. And to-morrow +morning, as soon as they come to fetch me to be hanged, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +I’ll toss off half the bickerful. They may hang me then +without my knowing anything about it.”<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a></p> + +<p>In the story of the “Purchased Wife,” the Princess +Anastasia, the Beautiful, enables the youth Ivan, who +ransoms her, to win a large sum of money in the following +manner. Having worked a piece of embroidery, she tells +him to take it to market. “But if any one purchases it,” +says she, “don’t take any money from him, but ask him to +give you liquor enough to make you drunk.” Ivan obeys, +and this is the result. He drank till he was intoxicated, +and when he left the kabak (or pot-house) he tumbled into +a muddy pool. A crowd collected and folks looked at him +and said scoffingly, “Oh, the fair youth! now’d be the time +for him to go to church to get married!”</p> + +<p>“Fair or foul!” says he, “if I bid her, Anastasia the +Beautiful will kiss the crown of my head.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t go bragging like that!” says a rich merchant—“why +she wouldn’t even so much as look at you,” and offers +to stake all that he is worth on the truth of his assertion. +Ivan accepts the wager. The Princess appears, takes him +by the hand, kisses him on the crown of his head, wipes +the dirt off him, and leads him home, still inebriated but +no longer impecunious.<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a></p> + +<p>Sometimes even greater people than the peasants get +drunk. The story of “Semilétka”<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a>—a variant of the well +known tale of how a woman’s wit enables her to guess all +riddles, to detect all deceits, and to conquer all difficulties—relates +how the heroine was chosen by a Voyvode<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> as his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +wife, with the stipulation that if she meddled in the affairs +of his Voyvodeship she was to be sent back to her father, +but allowed to take with her whatever thing belonging to +her she prized most. The marriage takes place, but one +day the well known case comes before him for decision, of +the foal of the borrowed mare—does it belong to the owner +of the mare, or to the borrower in whose possession it was +at the time of foaling? The Voyvode adjudges it to the +borrower, and this is how the story ends:—</p> + +<p>“Semilétka heard of this and could not restrain herself, +but said that he had decided unfairly. The Voyvode waxed +wroth, and demanded a divorce. After dinner Semilétka +was obliged to go back to her father’s house. But during +the dinner she made the Voyvode drink till he was intoxicated. +He drank his fill and went to sleep. While he +was sleeping she had him placed in a carriage, and then +she drove away with him to her father’s. When they had +arrived there the Voyvode awoke and said—</p> + +<p>“‘Who brought me here?’</p> + +<p>“‘I brought you,’ said Semilétka; ‘there was an agreement +between us that I might take away with me whatever +I prized most. And so I have taken you!’</p> + +<p>“The Voyvode marvelled at her wisdom, and made +peace with her. He and she then returned home and went +on living prosperously.”</p> + +<p>But although drunkenness is very tenderly treated in +the Skazkas, as well as in the folk-songs, it forms the subject +of many a moral lesson, <ins class="correction" title="crouched in original">couched</ins> in terms of the utmost +severity, in the <i>stikhi</i> (or poems of a religious character, +sung by the blind beggars and other wandering minstrels +who sing in front of churches), and also in the “Legends,” +which are tales of a semi-religious (or rather demi-semi-religious) +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +nature. No better specimen of the stories of +this class referring to drunkenness can be offered than the +history of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Awful Drunkard.</span><a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once there was an old man who was such an awful drunkard +as passes all description. Well, one day he went to a kabak, +intoxicated himself with liquor, and then went staggering home +blind drunk. Now his way happened to lie across a river. +When he came to the river, he didn’t stop long to consider, but +kicked off his boots, hung them round his neck, and walked +into the water. Scarcely had he got half-way across when he +tripped over a stone, tumbled into the water—and there was an +end of him.</p> + +<p>Now, he left a son called Petrusha.<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a> When Peter saw that +his father had disappeared and left no trace behind, he took the +matter greatly to heart for a time, he wept for awhile, he had a +service performed for the repose of his father’s soul, and he +began to act as head of the family. One Sunday he went to +church to pray to God. As he passed along the road a woman +was pounding away in front of him. She walked and walked, +stumbled over a stone, and began swearing at it, saying, “What +devil shoved you under my feet?”</p> + +<p>Hearing these words, Petrusha said:</p> + +<p>“Good day, aunt! whither away?”</p> + +<p>“To church, my dear, to pray to God.”</p> + +<p>“But isn’t this sinful conduct of yours? You’re going to +church, to pray to God, and yet you think about the Evil One; +your foot stumbles and you throw the fault on the Devil!”</p> + +<p>Well, he went to church and then returned home. He +walked and walked, and suddenly, goodness knows whence, +there appeared before him a fine-looking man, who saluted him +and said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +“Thanks, Petrusha, for your good word!”</p> + +<p>“Who are you, and why do you thank me?” asks Petrusha.</p> + +<p>“I am the Devil.<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a> I thank you because, when that woman +stumbled, and scolded me without a cause, you said a good +word for me.” Then he began to entreat him, saying, “Come +and pay me a visit, Petrusha. How I will reward you to be +sure! With silver and with gold, with everything will I endow +you.”</p> + +<p>“Very good,” says Petrusha, “I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>Having told him all about the road he was to take, the Devil +straightway disappeared, and Petrusha returned home.</p> + +<p>Next day Petrusha set off on his visit to the Devil. He +walked and walked, for three whole days did he walk, and then he +reached a great forest, dark and dense—impossible even to see +the sky from within it! And in that forest there stood a rich +palace. Well, he entered the palace, and a fair maiden caught +sight of him. She had been stolen from a certain village by the +evil spirit. And when she caught sight of him she cried:</p> + +<p>“Whatever have you come here for, good youth? here +devils abide, they will tear you to pieces.”</p> + +<p>Petrusha told her how and why he had made his appearance +in that palace.</p> + +<p>“Well now, mind this,” says the fair maiden; “the Devil will +begin giving you silver and gold. Don’t take any of it, but ask +him to give you the very wretched horse which the evil spirits +use for fetching wood and water. That horse is your father. +When he came out of the kabak drunk, and fell into the water, +the devils immediately seized him and made him their hack, and +now they use him for fetching wood and water.”</p> + +<p>Presently there appeared the gallant who had invited +Petrusha, and began to regale him with all kinds of meat and +drink. And when the time came for Petrusha to be going homewards, +“Come,” said the Devil, “I will provide you with +money and with a capital horse, so that you will speedily get +home.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +“I don’t want anything,” replied Petrusha. “Only, if you +wish to make me a present, give me that sorry jade which you +use for carrying wood and water.”</p> + +<p>“What good will that be to you? If you ride it home +quickly, I expect it will die!”</p> + +<p>“No matter, let me have it. I won’t take any other.”</p> + +<p>So the Devil gave him that sorry jade. Petrusha took it by +the bridle and led it away. As soon as he reached the gates +there appeared the fair maiden, and asked:</p> + +<p>“Have you got the horse?”</p> + +<p>“I have.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, good youth, when you get nigh to your village, +take off your cross, trace a circle three times about this horse, +and hang the cross round its neck.”</p> + +<p>Petrusha took leave of her and went his way. When he +came nigh to his village he did everything exactly as the maiden +had instructed him. He took off his copper cross, traced a +circle three times about the horse, and hung the cross round its +neck. And immediately the horse was no longer there, but in +its place there stood before Petrusha his own father. The son +looked upon the father, burst into tears, and led him to his cottage; +and for three days the old man remained without speaking, +unable to make use of his tongue. And after that they +lived happily and in all prosperity. The old man entirely gave +up drinking, and to his very last day never took so much as a +single drop of spirits.<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The Russian peasant is by no means deficient in +humor, a fact of which the Skazkas offer abundant evidence. +But it is not easy to find stories which can be quoted +at full length as illustrations of that humor. The jokes +which form the themes of the Russian facetious tales are +for the most part common to all Europe. And a similar +assertion may be made with regard to the stories of most +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +lands. An unfamiliar joke is but rarely to be discovered +in the lower strata of fiction. He who has read the folk-tales +of one country only, is apt to attribute to its inhabitants +a comic originality to which they can lay no claim. +And so a Russian who knows the stories of his own land, +but has not studied those of other countries, is very liable +to credit the Skazkas with the undivided possession of a +number of “merry jests” in which they can claim but a +very small share—jests which in reality form the stock-in-trade +of rustic wags among the vineyards of France or +Germany, or on the hills of Greece, or beside the fiords of +Norway, or along the coasts of Brittany or Argyleshire—which +for centuries have set beards wagging in Cairo and +Ispahan, and in the cool of the evening hour have cheered +the heart of the villager weary with his day’s toil under the +burning sun of India.</p> + +<p>It is only when the joke hinges upon something which +is peculiar to a people that it is likely to be found among +that people only. But most of the Russian jests turn upon +pivots which are familiar to all the world, and have for +their themes such common-place topics as the incorrigible +folly of man, the inflexible obstinacy of woman. And in +their treatments of these subjects they offer very few novel +features. It is strange how far a story of this kind may +travel, and yet how little <ins class="correction" title="alternation in original">alteration</ins> it may undergo. Take, +for instance, the skits against women which are so universally +popular. Far away in outlying districts of Russia +we find the same time-honored quips which have so long +figured in collections of English facetiæ. There is the +good old story, for instance, of the dispute between a +husband and wife as to whether a certain rope has been +cut with a knife or with scissors, resulting in the murder of +the scissors-upholding wife, who is pitched into the river +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +by her knife-advocating husband; but not before she has, +in her very death agony, testified to her belief in the scissors +hypothesis by a movement of her fingers above the +surface of the stream.<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a> In a Russian form of the story, +told in the government of Astrakhan, the quarrel is about +the husband’s beard. He says he has shaved it, his wife +declares he has only cut it off. He flings her into a deep +pool, and calls to her to say “shaved.” Utterance is +impossible to her, but “she lifts one hand above the +water and by means of two fingers makes signs to show +that it was cut.”<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a> The story has even settled into a proverb. +Of a contradictory woman the Russian peasants +affirm that, “If you say ‘shaved’ she’ll say ‘cut.’”</p> + +<p>In the same way another story shows us in Russian +garb our old friend the widower who, when looking for his +drowned wife—a woman of a very antagonistic disposition—went +up the river instead of down, saying to his astonished +companions, “She always did everything contrary-wise, +so now, no doubt, she’s gone against the stream.”<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> +A common story again is that of the husband who, having +confided a secret to his wife which he justly fears she will +reveal, throws discredit on her evidence about things in +general by making her believe various absurd stories which +she hastens to repeat.<a name="FNanchor_49a_49a" id="FNanchor_49a_49a"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> The final paragraph of one of the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> +variants of this time-honored jest is quaint, concluding as +it does, by way of sting, with a highly popular Russian +saw. The wife has gone to the seigneur of the village and +accused her husband of having found a treasure and kept +it for his own use. The charge is true, but the wife is +induced to talk such nonsense, and the husband complains +so bitterly of her, that “the seigneur pitied the moujik for +being so unfortunate, so he set him at liberty; and he had +him divorced from his wife and married to another, a +young and good-looking one. Then the moujik immediately +dug up his treasure and began living in the best +manner possible.” Sure enough the proverb doesn’t say +without reason: “Women have long hair and short wits.”<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a></p> + +<p>There is another story of this class which is worthy of +being mentioned, as it illustrates a custom in which the +Russians differ from some other peoples.</p> + +<p>A certain man had married a wife who was so capricious +that there was no living with her. After trying all +sorts of devices her dejected husband at last asked her how +she had been brought up, and learnt that she had received +an education almost entirely German and French, with +scarcely any Russian in it; she had not even been wrapped +in swaddling-clothes when a baby, nor swung in a <i>liulka</i>.<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a> +Thereupon her husband determined to remedy the short-comings +of her early education, and “whenever she +showed herself capricious, or took to squalling, he immediately +had her swaddled and placed in a <i>liulka</i>, and +began swinging her to and fro.” By the end of a half +year she became “quite silky”—all her caprices had been +swung out of her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +But instead of giving mere extracts from any more of +the numerous stories to which the fruitful subject of +woman’s caprice has given rise, we will quote a couple of +such tales at length. The first is the Russian variant of a +story which has a long family tree, with ramifications +extending over a great part of the world. Dr. Benfey has +devoted to it no less than sixteen pages of his introduction +to the Panchatantra,<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a> tracing it from its original Indian +home, and its subsequent abode in Persia, into almost +every European land.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Bad Wife.</span><a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A bad wife lived on the worst of terms with her husband, and +never paid any attention to what he said. If her husband told +her to get up early, she would lie in bed three days at a stretch; +if he wanted her to go to sleep, she couldn’t think of sleeping. +When her husband asked her to make pancakes, she would say: +“You thief, you don’t deserve a pancake!”</p> + +<p>If he said:</p> + +<p>“Don’t make any pancakes, wife, if I don’t deserve them,” +she would cook a two-gallon pot full, and say,</p> + +<p>“Eat away, you thief, till they’re all gone!”</p> + +<p>“Now then, wife,” perhaps he would say, “I feel quite sorry +for you; don’t go toiling and moiling, and don’t go out to the +hay cutting.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, you thief!” she would reply, “I shall go, and do +you follow after me!”</p> + +<p>One day, after having had his trouble and bother with her +he went into the forest to look for berries and distract his grief, +and he came to where there was a currant bush, and in the middle +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +of that bush he saw a bottomless pit. He looked at it for +some time and considered, “Why should I live in torment with +a bad wife? can’t I put her into that pit? can’t I teach her a +good lesson?”</p> + +<p>So when he came home, he said:</p> + +<p>“Wife, don’t go into the woods for berries.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you bugbear, I shall go!”</p> + +<p>“I’ve found a currant bush; don’t pick it.”</p> + +<p>“Yes I will; I shall go and pick it clean; but I won’t give +you a single currant!”</p> + +<p>The husband went out, his wife with him. He came to the +currant bush, and his wife jumped into it, crying out at the top +her voice:</p> + +<p>“Don’t you come into the bush, you thief, or I’ll kill you!”</p> + +<p>And so she got into the middle of the bush, and went flop +into the bottomless pit.</p> + +<p>The husband returned home joyfully, and remained there +three days; on the fourth day he went to see how things were +going on. Taking a long cord, he let it down into the pit, and +out from thence he pulled a little demon. Frightened out of his +wits, he was going to throw the imp back again into the pit, +but it shrieked aloud, and earnestly entreated him, saying:</p> + +<p>“Don’t send me back again, O peasant! let me go out into +the world! A bad wife has come, and absolutely devoured us +all, pinching us, and biting us—we’re utterly worn out with it. +I’ll do you a good turn, if you will.”</p> + +<p>So the peasant let him go free—at large in Holy Russia. +Then the imp said:</p> + +<p>“Now then, peasant, come along with me to the town of +Vologda. I’ll take to tormenting people, and you shall cure +them.”</p> + +<p>Well, the imp went to where there were merchant’s wives +and merchant’s daughters; and when they were possessed by +him, they fell ill and went crazy. Then the peasant would go to +a house where there was illness of this kind, and, as soon as he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +entered, out would go the enemy; then there would be blessing +in the house, and everyone would suppose that the peasant was +a doctor indeed, and would give him money, and treat him to +pies. And so the peasant gained an incalculable sum of money. +At last the demon said:</p> + +<p>“You’ve plenty now, peasant; arn’t you content? I’m going +now to enter into the Boyar’s daughter. Mind you don’t go +curing her. If you do, I shall eat you.”</p> + +<p>The Boyar’s daughter fell ill, and went so crazy that she +wanted to eat people. The Boyar ordered his people to find out +the peasant—(that is to say) to look for such and such a physician. +The peasant came, entered the house, and told Boyar to +make all the townspeople, and the carriages with coachmen, stand +in the street outside. Moreover, he gave orders that all the +coachmen should crack their whips and cry at the top of their +voices: “The Bad Wife has come! the Bad Wife has come!” +and then he went into the inner room. As soon as he entered +it, the demon rushed at him crying, “What do you mean, Russian? +what have you come here for? I’ll eat you!”</p> + +<p>“What do <i>you</i> mean?” said the peasant, “why I didn’t +come here to turn you out. I came, out of pity to you, to say +that the Bad Wife has come here.”</p> + +<p>The Demon rushed to the window, stared with all his eyes, +and heard everyone shouting at the top of his voice the words, +“The Bad Wife!”</p> + +<p>“Peasant,” cries the Demon, “wherever can I take refuge?”</p> + +<p>“Run back into the pit. She won’t go there any more.”</p> + +<p>The Demon went back to the pit—and to the Bad Wife too.</p> + +<p>In return for his services, the Boyar conferred a rich guerdon +on the peasant, giving him his daughter to wife, and presenting +him with half his property.</p> + +<p>But the Bad Wife sits to this day in the pit—in Tartarus.<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +Our final illustration of the Skazkas which satirize +women is the story of the <i>Golovikha</i>. It is all the more +valuable, inasmuch as it is one of the few folk-tales which +throw any light on the working of Russian communal +institutions. The word <i>Golovikha</i> means, in its strict sense, +the wife of a <i>Golova</i>, or elected chief [<i><ins class="correction" title="Golovh in original">Golova</ins></i> = head] of +a <i>Volost</i>, or association of village communities; but here it +is used for a “female <i>Golova</i>,” a species of “mayoress.”</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Golovikha.</span><a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A certain woman was very bumptious. Her husband came +from a village council one day, and she asked him:</p> + +<p>“What have you been deciding over there?”</p> + +<p>“What have we been deciding? why choosing a Golova.”</p> + +<p>“Whom have you chosen?”</p> + +<p>“No one as yet.”</p> + +<p>“Choose me,” says the woman.</p> + +<p>So as soon as her husband went back to the council (she was +a bad sort; he wanted to give her a lesson) he told the elders +what she had said. They immediately chose her as Golova.</p> + +<p>Well the woman got along, settled all questions, took bribes, +and drank spirits at the peasant’s expense. But the time came +to collect the poll-tax. The Golova couldn’t do it, wasn’t able +to collect it in time. There came a Cossack, and asked for the +Golova; but the woman had hidden herself. As soon as she +learnt that the Cossack had come, off she ran home.</p> + +<p>“Where, oh where can I hide myself?” she cries to her +husband. “Husband dear! tie me up in a bag, and put me out +there where the corn-sacks are.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +Now there were five sacks of seed-corn outside, so her husband +tied up the Golova, and set her in the midst of them. Up +came the Cossack and said:</p> + +<p>“Ho! so the Golova’s in hiding.”</p> + +<p>Then he took to slashing at the sacks one after another with +his whip, and the woman to howling at the pitch of her voice:</p> + +<p>“Oh, my father! I won’t be a Golova, I won’t be a Golova.”</p> + +<p>At last the Cossack left off beating the sacks, and rode away. +But the woman had had enough of Golova-ing; from that time +forward she took to obeying her husband.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Before passing on to another subject, it may be advisable +to quote one of the stories in which the value of a +good and wise wife is fully acknowledged. I have chosen +for that purpose one of the variants of a tale from which, +in all probability, our own story of “Whittington and his +Cat” has been derived. With respect to its origin, there +can be very little doubt, such a feature as that of the +incense-burning pointing directly to a Buddhist source. It +is called—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Three Copecks.</span><a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There once was a poor little orphan-lad who had nothing at all +to live on; so he went to a rich moujik and hired himself out to +him, agreeing to work for one copeck a year. And when he had +worked for a whole year, and had received his copeck, he went to +a well and threw it into the water, saying, “If it don’t sink, I’ll +keep it. It will be plain enough I’ve served my master faithfully.”</p> + +<p>But the copeck sank. Well, he remained in service a second +year, and received a second copeck. Again he flung it into the +well, and again it sank to the bottom. He remained a third year; +worked and worked, till the time came for payment. Then his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +master gave him a rouble. “No,” says the orphan, “I don’t +want your money; give me my copeck.” He got his copeck and +flung it into the well. Lo and behold! there were all three copecks +floating on the surface of the water. So he took them and +went into the town.</p> + +<p>Now as he went along the street, it happened that some small +boys had got hold of a kitten and were tormenting it. And he +felt sorry for it, and said:</p> + +<p>“Let me have that kitten, my boys?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, we’ll sell it you.”</p> + +<p>“What do you want for it?”</p> + +<p>“Three copecks.”</p> + +<p>Well the orphan bought the kitten, and afterwards hired +himself to a merchant, to sit in his shop.</p> + +<p>That merchant’s business began to prosper wonderfully. He +couldn’t supply goods fast enough; purchasers carried off everything +in a twinkling. The merchant got ready to go to sea, +freighted a ship, and said to the orphan:</p> + +<p>“Give me your cat; maybe it will catch mice on board, and +amuse me.”</p> + +<p>“Pray take it, master! only if you lose it, I shan’t let you off +cheap.”</p> + +<p>The merchant arrived in a far off land, and put up at an inn. +The landlord saw that he had a great deal of money, so he gave +him a bedroom which was infested by countless swarms of rats +and mice, saying to himself, “If they should happen to eat him +up, his money will belong to me.” For in that country they knew +nothing about cats, and the rats and mice had completely got the +upper hand. Well the merchant took the cat with him to his +room and went to bed. Next morning the landlord came into +the room. There was the merchant alive and well, holding the +cat in his arms, and stroking its fur; the cat was purring away, +singing its song, and on the floor lay a perfect heap of dead rats +and mice!</p> + +<p>“Master merchant, sell me that beastie,” says the landlord.</p> + +<p>“Certainly.”</p> + +<p>“What do you want for it?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +“A mere trifle. I’ll make the beastie stand on his hind legs +while I hold him up by his forelegs, and you shall pile gold +pieces around him, so as just to hide him—I shall be content +with that!”</p> + +<p>The landlord agreed to the bargain. The merchant gave him +the cat, received a sackful of gold, and as soon as he had settled +his affairs, started on his way back. As he sailed across the +seas, he thought:</p> + +<p>“Why should I give the gold to that orphan? Such a lot of +money in return for a mere cat! that would be too much of a +good thing. No, much better keep it myself.”</p> + +<p>The moment he had made up his mind to the sin, all of a sudden +there arose a storm—such a tremendous one! the ship was +on the point of sinking.</p> + +<p>“Ah, accursed one that I am! I’ve been longing for what +doesn’t belong to me; O Lord, forgive me a sinner! I won’t +keep back a single copeck.”</p> + +<p>The moment the merchant began praying the winds were +stilled, the sea became calm, and the ship went sailing on prosperously +to the quay.</p> + +<p>“Hail, master!” says the orphan. “But where’s my cat?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve sold it,” answers the merchant; “There’s your money, +take it in full.”</p> + +<p>The orphan received the sack of gold, took leave of the +merchant, and went to the strand, where the shipmen were. +From them he obtained a shipload of incense in exchange for +his gold, and he strewed the incense along the strand, and burnt +it in honor of God. The sweet savor spread through all that +land, and suddenly an old man appeared, and he said to the +orphan:</p> + +<p>“Which desirest thou—riches, or a good wife?”</p> + +<p>“I know not, old man.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, go afield. Three brothers are ploughing over +there. Ask them to tell thee.”</p> + +<p>The orphan went afield. He looked, and saw peasants tilling +the soil.</p> + +<p>“God lend you aid!” says he.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> +“Thanks, good man!” say they. “What dost thou want?”</p> + +<p>“An old man has sent me here, and told me to ask you which +of the two I shall wish for—riches or a good wife?”</p> + +<p>“Ask our elder brother; he’s sitting in that cart there.”</p> + +<p>The orphan went to the cart and saw a little boy—one that +seemed about three years old.</p> + +<p>“Can this be their elder brother?” thought he—however he +asked him:</p> + +<p>“Which dost thou tell me to choose—riches, or a good wife?”</p> + +<p>“Choose the good wife.”</p> + +<p>So the orphan returned to the old man.</p> + +<p>“I’m told to ask for the wife,” says he.</p> + +<p>“That’s all right!” said the old man, and disappeared from +sight. The orphan looked round; by his side stood a beautiful +woman.</p> + +<p>“Hail, good youth!” says she. “I am thy wife; let us go +and seek a place where we may live.”<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">One of the sins to which the Popular Tale shows itself +most hostile is that of avarice. The folk-tales of all lands +delight to <ins class="correction" title="should perhaps be gibe">gird</ins> at misers and skinflints, to place them in +unpleasant positions, and to gloat over the sufferings which +attend their death and embitter their ghostly existence. +As a specimen of the manner in which the humor of the +Russian peasant has manipulated the stories of this class, +most of which probably reached him from the East, we +may take the following tale of—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span></p> +<h4><span class="smcap">The Miser.</span><a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There once was a rich merchant named Marko—a stingier fellow +never lived! One day he went out for a stroll. As he went +along the road he saw a beggar—an old man, who sat there asking +for alms—“Please to give, O ye Orthodox, for Christ’s +sake!”</p> + +<p>Marko the Rich passed by. Just at that time there came up +behind him a poor moujik, who felt sorry for the beggar, and gave +him a copeck. The rich man seemed to feel ashamed, for he +stopped and said to the moujik:</p> + +<p>“Harkye, neighbor, lend me a copeck. I want to give that +poor man something, but I’ve no small change.”</p> + +<p>The moujik gave him one, and asked when he should come +for his money. “Come to-morrow,” was the reply. Well next +day the poor man went to the rich man’s to get his copeck. He +entered his spacious courtyard and asked:</p> + +<p>“Is Marko the Rich at home?”</p> + +<p>“Yes. What do you want?” replied Marko.</p> + +<p>“I’ve come for my copeck.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother! come again. Really I’ve no change just now.”</p> + +<p>The poor man made his bow and went away.</p> + +<p>“I’ll come to-morrow,” said he.</p> + +<p>On the morrow he came again, but it was just the same story +as before.</p> + +<p>“I haven’t a single copper. If you like to change me a note +for a hundred—No? well then come again in a fortnight.”</p> + +<p>At the end of the fortnight the poor man came again, but +Marko the Rich saw him from the window, and said to his wife:</p> + +<p>“Harkye, wife! I’ll strip myself naked and lie down under +the holy pictures. Cover me up with a cloth, and sit down and +cry, just as you would over a corpse. When the moujik comes +for his money, tell him I died this morning.”</p> + +<p>Well the wife did everything exactly as her husband directed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +her. While she was sitting there drowned in bitter tears, the +moujik came into the room.</p> + +<p>“What do you want?” says she.</p> + +<p>“The money Marko the Rich owes me,” answers the poor +man.</p> + +<p>“Ah, moujik, Marko the Rich has wished us farewell;<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a> he’s +only just dead.”</p> + +<p>“The kingdom of heaven be his! If you’ll allow me, mistress, +in return for my copeck I’ll do him a last service—just +give his mortal remains a wash.”</p> + +<p>So saying he laid hold of a pot full of boiling water and began +pouring its scalding contents over Marko the Rich. Marko, his +brows knit, his legs contorted, was scarcely able to hold out.<a name="FNanchor_60_60" id="FNanchor_60_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a></p> + +<p>“Writhe away or not as you please,” thought the poor man, +“but pay me my copeck!”</p> + +<p>When he had washed the body, and laid it out properly, he +said:</p> + +<p>“Now then, mistress, buy a coffin and have it taken into the +church; I’ll go and read psalms over it.”</p> + +<p>So Marko the Rich was put in a coffin and taken into the +church, and the moujik began reading psalms over him. The +darkness of night came on. All of a sudden a window opened, +and a party of robbers crept through it into the church. The +moujik hid himself behind the altar. As soon as the robbers had +come in they began dividing their booty, and after everything +else was shared there remained over and above a golden sabre—each +one laid hold of it for himself, no one would give up his +claim to it. Out jumped the poor man, crying:</p> + +<p>“What’s the good of disputing that way? Let the sabre +belong to him who will cut this corpse’s head off!”</p> + +<p>Up jumped Marko the Rich like a madman. The robbers +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +were frightened out of their wits, flung away their spoil and +scampered off.</p> + +<p>“Here, Moujik,” says Marko, “let’s divide the money.”</p> + +<p>They divided it equally between them: each of the shares +was a large one.</p> + +<p>“But how about the copeck?” asks the poor man.</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother!” replies Marko, “surely you can see I’ve got +no change!”</p> + +<p>And so Marko the Rich never paid the copeck after all.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">We may take next the large class of stories about +simpletons, so dear to the public in all parts of the world. +In the Skazkas a simpleton is known as a <i>duràk</i>, a word +which admits of a variety of explanations. Sometimes it +means an idiot, sometimes a fool in the sense of a jester. +In the stories of village life its signification is generally +that of a “ninny;” in the “fairy stories” it is frequently +applied to the youngest of the well-known “Three Brothers,” +the “Boots” of the family as Dr. Dasent has called +him. In the latter case, of course, the hero’s <i>durachestvo</i>, +or foolishness, is purely subjective. It exists only in the +false conceptions of his character which his family or his +neighbors have formed.<a name="FNanchor_61_61" id="FNanchor_61_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> But the <i>duràk</i> of the following +tale is represented as being really “daft.” The story +begins with one of the conventional openings of the +Skazka—“In a certain <i>tsarstvo</i>, in a certain <i>gosudarstvo</i>,”—but +the two synonyms for “kingdom” or “state” are used +only because they rhyme.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Fool and the Birch-Tree.</span><a name="FNanchor_62_62" id="FNanchor_62_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain country there once lived an old man who had three +sons. Two of them had their wits about them, but the third was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +a fool. The old man died and his sons divided his property +among themselves by lot. The sharp-witted ones got plenty of +all sorts of good things, but nothing fell to the share of the Simpleton +but one ox—and that such a skinny one!</p> + +<p>Well, fair-time came round, and the clever brothers got ready +to go and transact business. The Simpleton saw this, and said:</p> + +<p>“I’ll go, too, brothers, and take my ox for sale.”</p> + +<p>So he fastened a cord to the horn of the ox and drove it to +the town. On his way he happened to pass through a forest, and +in the forest there stood an old withered Birch-tree. Whenever +the wind blew the Birch-tree creaked.</p> + +<p>“What is the Birch creaking about?” thinks the Simpleton. +“Surely it must be bargaining for my ox? Well,” says he, “if +you want to buy it, why buy it. I’m not against selling it. The +price of the ox is twenty roubles. I can’t take less. Out with +the money!”</p> + +<p>The Birch made no reply, only went on creaking. But the +Simpleton fancied that it was asking for the ox on credit. “Very +good,” says he, “I’ll wait till to-morrow!” He tied the ox to the +Birch, took leave of the tree, and went home. Presently in came +the clever brothers, and began questioning him:</p> + +<p>“Well, Simpleton! sold your ox?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve sold it.”</p> + +<p>“For how much?”</p> + +<p>“For twenty roubles.”</p> + +<p>“Where’s the money?”</p> + +<p>“I haven’t received the money yet. It was settled I should +go for it to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“There’s simplicity for you!” say they.</p> + +<p>Early next morning the Simpleton got up, dressed himself, +and went to the Birch-tree for his money. He reached the wood; +there stood the Birch, waving in the wind, but the ox was not to +be seen. During the night the wolves had eaten it.</p> + +<p>“Now, then, neighbor!” he exclaimed, “pay me my money. +You promised you’d pay me to-day.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +The wind blew, the Birch creaked, and the Simpleton cried:</p> + +<p>“What a liar you are! Yesterday you kept saying, ‘I’ll pay +you to-morrow,’ and now you make just the same promise. +Well, so be it, I’ll wait one day more, but not a bit longer. I want +the money myself.”</p> + +<p>When he returned home, his brothers again questioned him +closely:</p> + +<p>“Have you got your money?”</p> + +<p>“No, brothers; I’ve got to wait for my money again.”</p> + +<p>“Whom have you sold it to?”</p> + +<p>“To the withered Birch-tree in the forest.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, what an idiot!”</p> + +<p>On the third day the Simpleton took his hatchet and went to +the forest. Arriving there, he demanded his money; but the +Birch-tree only creaked and creaked. “No, no, neighbor!” +says he. “If you’re always going to treat me to promises,<a name="FNanchor_63_63" id="FNanchor_63_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a> +there’ll be no getting anything out of you. I don’t like such +joking; I’ll pay you out well for it!”</p> + +<p>With that he pitched into it with his hatchet, so that its chips +flew about in all directions. Now, in that Birch-tree there was +a hollow, and in that hollow some robbers had hidden a pot full +of gold. The tree split asunder, and the Simpleton caught sight +of the gold. He took as much of it as the skirts of his caftan +would hold, and toiled home with it. There he showed his +brothers what he had brought.</p> + +<p>“Where did you get such a lot, Simpleton?” said they.</p> + +<p>“A neighbor gave it me for my ox. But this isn’t anything +like the whole of it; a good half of it I didn’t bring home with +me! Come along, brothers, let’s get the rest!”</p> + +<p>Well, they went into the forest, secured the money, and carried +it home.</p> + +<p>“Now mind, Simpleton,” say the sensible brothers, “don’t +tell anyone that we’ve such a lot of gold.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +“Never fear, I won’t tell a soul!”</p> + +<p>All of a sudden they run up against a Diachok,<a name="FNanchor_64_64" id="FNanchor_64_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> and says +he:—</p> + +<p>“What’s that, brothers, you’re bringing from the forest?”</p> + +<p>The sharp ones replied, “Mushrooms.” But the Simpleton +contradicted them, saying:</p> + +<p>“They’re telling lies! we’re carrying money; here, just take +a look at it.”</p> + +<p>The Diachok uttered such an “Oh!”—then he flung himself +on the gold, and began seizing handfuls of it and stuffing them +into his pocket. The Simpleton grew angry, dealt him a blow +with his hatchet, and struck him dead.</p> + +<p>“Heigh, Simpleton! what have you been and done!” cried +his brothers. “You’re a lost man, and you’ll be the cause of our +destruction, too! Wherever shall we put the dead body?”</p> + +<p>They thought and thought, and at last they dragged it to an +empty cellar and flung it in there. But later on in the evening +the eldest brother said to the second one:—</p> + +<p>“This piece of work is sure to turn out badly. When they +begin looking for the Diachok, you’ll see that Simpleton will tell +them everything. Let’s kill a goat and bury it in the cellar, and +hide the body of the dead man in some other place.”</p> + +<p>Well, they waited till the dead of night; then they killed a +goat and flung it into the cellar, but they carried the Diachok to +another place and there hid him in the ground. Several days +passed, and then people began looking everywhere for the Diachok, +asking everyone about him.</p> + +<p>“What do you want him for?” said the Simpleton, when he +was asked. “I killed him some time ago with my hatchet, and +my brothers carried him into the cellar.”</p> + +<p>Straightway they laid hands on the Simpleton, crying, “Take +us there and show him to us.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> +The Simpleton went down into the cellar, got hold of the +goat’s head, and asked:—</p> + +<p>“Was your Diachok dark-haired?”</p> + +<p>“He was.”</p> + +<p>“And had he a beard?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, he’d a beard.”</p> + +<p>“And horns?”</p> + +<p>“What horns are you talking about, Simpleton?”</p> + +<p>“Well, see for yourselves,” said he, tossing up the head to +them. They looked, saw it was a goat’s, spat in the Simpleton’s +face, and went their ways home.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">One of the most popular simpleton-tales in the world is +that of the fond parents who harrow their feelings by conjuring +up the misfortunes which may possibly await their +as yet unborn grandchildren. In Scotland it is told, in a +slightly different form, of two old maids who were once +found bathed in tears, and who were obliged to confess that +they had been day-dreaming and supposing—if they had +been married, and one had had a boy and the other a girl; +and if the children, when they grew up, had married, and +had had a little child; and if it had tumbled out of the window +and been killed—what a dreadful thing it would have +been. At which terrible idea they both gave way to not +unnatural tears. In one of its Russian forms, it is told of +the old parents of a boy named Lutonya, who weep over +the hypothetical death of an imaginary grandchild, thinking +how sad it would have been if a log which the old +woman has dropped had killed that as yet merely potential +infant. The parent’s grief appears to Lutonya so uncalled +for that he leaves home, declaring that he will not return +until he has found people more foolish than they. He +travels long and far, and witnesses several foolish doings, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +most of which are familiar to us. In one place, a cow is +being hoisted on to a roof in order that it may eat the grass +growing thereon; in another a horse is being inserted into +its collar by sheer force; in a third, a woman is fetching +milk from the cellar, a spoonful at a time. But the story +comes to an end before its hero has discovered the surpassing +stupidity of which he is in quest. In another Russian +story of a similar nature Lutonya goes from home in search +of some one more foolish than his mother, who has been +tricked by a cunning sharper. First he finds carpenters +attempting to stretch a beam which is not long enough, and +earns their gratitude by showing them how to add a piece +to it. Then he comes to a place where sickles are unknown, +and harvesters are in the habit of biting off the ears of +corn, so he makes a sickle for them, thrusts it into a sheaf +and leaves it there. They take it for a monstrous worm, +tie a cord to it, and drag it away to the bank of the river. +There they fasten one of their number to a log and set him +afloat, giving him the end of the cord, in order that he may +drag the “worm” after him into the water. The log turns +over, and the moujik with it, so that his head is under water +while his legs appear above it. “Why, brother!” they call +to him from the bank, “why are you so particular about +your leggings? If they do get wet, you can dry them at +the fire.” But he makes no reply, only drowns. Finally +Lutonya meets the counterpart of the well-known Irishman +who, when counting the party to which he belongs, always +forgets to count himself, and so gets into numerical difficulties. +After which he returns home.<a name="FNanchor_65_65" id="FNanchor_65_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +It would be easy to multiply examples of this style +of humor—to find in the folk-tales current all over Russia +the equivalents of our own facetious narratives about the +wise men of Gotham, the old woman whose petticoats were +cut short by the pedlar whose name was Stout, and a +number of other inhabitants of Fool-land, to whom the +heart of childhood is still closely attached, and also of the +exaggeration-stories, the German <i>Lügenmährchen</i>, on which +was founded the narrative of Baron Munchausen’s surprising +adventures. But instead of doing this, before +passing on to the more important groups of the Skazkas, +I will quote, as this chapter’s final illustrations of the +Russian story-teller’s art, an “animal story” and a “legend.” +Here is the former:—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Mizgir.</span><a name="FNanchor_66_66" id="FNanchor_66_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In the olden years, long long ago, with the spring-tide fair and +the summer’s heat there came on the world distress and shame. +For gnats and flies began to swarm, biting folks and letting +their warm blood flow.</p> + +<p>Then the Spider<a name="FNanchor_67_67" id="FNanchor_67_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a> appeared, the hero bold, who, with waving +arms, weaved webs around the highways and byways in +which the gnats and flies were most to be found.</p> + +<p>A ghastly Gadfly, coming that way, stumbled straight into +the Spider’s snare. The Spider, tightly squeezing her throat, +prepared to put her out of the world. From the Spider the +Gadfly mercy sought.</p> + +<p>“Good father Spider! please not to kill me. I’ve ever so +many little ones. Without me they’ll be orphans left, and from +door to door have to beg their bread and squabble with dogs.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +Well, the Spider released her. Away she flew, and everywhere +humming and buzzing about, told the flies and gnats of +what had occurred.</p> + +<p>“Ho, ye gnats and flies! Meet here beneath this ash-tree’s +roots. A spider has come, and, with waving of arms and weaving +of nets, has set his snares in all the ways to which the flies +and gnats resort. He’ll catch them, every single one!”</p> + +<p>They flew to the spot; beneath the ash-tree’s roots they hid, +and lay there as though they were dead. The Spider came, +and there he found a cricket, a beetle, and a bug.</p> + +<p>“O Cricket!” he cried, “upon this mound sit and take +snuff! Beetle, do thou beat a drum. And do thou crawl, O +Bug, the bun-like, beneath the ash, and spread abroad this news +of me, the Spider, the wrestler, the hero bold—that the Spider, +the wrestler, the hero bold, no longer in the world exists; that +they have sent him to Kazan; that in Kazan, upon a block, +they’ve chopped his head off, and the block destroyed.”</p> + +<p>On the mound sat the Cricket and took snuff. The Beetle +smote upon the drum. The Bug crawled in among the ash-tree’s +roots, and cried:—</p> + +<p>“Why have ye fallen? Wherefore as in death do ye lie +here? Truly no longer lives the Spider, the wrestler, the hero +bold. They’ve sent him to Kazan and in Kazan they’ve chopped +his head off on a block, and afterwards destroyed the block.”</p> + +<p>The gnats and flies grew blithe and merry. Thrice they +crossed themselves, then out they flew—and straight into the +Spider’s snares. Said he:—</p> + +<p>“But seldom do ye come! I would that ye would far more +often come to visit me! to quaff my wine and beer, and pay me +tribute!”<a name="FNanchor_68_68" id="FNanchor_68_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> +This story is specially interesting in the original, inasmuch +as it is rhymed throughout, although printed as +prose. A kind of lilt is perceptible in many of the +Skazkas, and traces of rhyme are often to be detected in +them, but “The Mizgir’s” mould is different from theirs. +Many stories also exist in an artificially versified form, but +their movement differs entirely from that of the naturally +cadenced periods of the ordinary Skazka, or of such +rhymed prose as that of “The Mizgir.”</p> + +<p>The following legend is not altogether new in “motive,” +but a certain freshness is lent to it by its simple +style, its unstrained humor, and its genial tone.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Smith and the Demon.</span><a name="FNanchor_69_69" id="FNanchor_69_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there was a Smith, and he had one son, a +sharp, smart, six-year-old boy. One day the old man went to +church, and as he stood before a picture of the Last Judgment +he saw a Demon painted there—such a terrible one!—black, with +horns and a tail.</p> + +<p>“O my!” says he to himself. “Suppose I get just such +another painted for the smithy.” So he hired an artist, and +ordered him to paint on the door of the smithy exactly such +another demon as he had seen in the church. The artist painted +it. Thenceforward the old man, every time he entered the +smithy, always looked at the Demon and said, “Good morning, +fellow-countryman!” And then he would lay the fire in the +furnace and begin his work.</p> + +<p>Well, the Smith lived in good accord with the Demon for +some ten years. Then he fell ill and died. His son succeeded +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +to his place as head of the household, and took the smithy into +his own hands. But he was not disposed to show attention to +the Demon as the old man had done. When he went into the +smithy in the morning, he never said “Good morrow” to him; +instead of offering him a kindly word, he took the biggest hammer +he had handy, and thumped the Demon with it three times +right on the forehead, and then he would go to his work. And +when one of God’s holy days came round, he would go to church +and offer each saint a taper; but he would go up to the Demon +and spit in his face. Thus three years went by, he all the +while favoring the Evil One every morning either with a spitting +or with a hammering. The Demon endured it and endured it, +and at last found it past all endurance. It was too much for +him.</p> + +<p>“I’ve had quite enough of this insolence from him!” thinks +he. “Suppose I make use of a little diplomacy, and play him +some sort of a trick!”</p> + +<p>So the Demon took the form of a youth, and went to the +smithy.</p> + +<p>“Good day, uncle!” says he.</p> + +<p>“Good day!”</p> + +<p>“What should you say, uncle, to taking me as an apprentice? +At all events, I could carry fuel for you, and blow the +bellows.”</p> + +<p>The Smith liked the idea. “Why shouldn’t I?” he replied. +“Two are better than one.”</p> + +<p>The Demon began to learn his trade; at the end of a month +he knew more about smith’s work than his master did himself, +was able to do everything that his master couldn’t do. It was +a real pleasure to look at him! There’s no describing how +satisfied his master was with him, how fond he got of him. +Sometimes the master didn’t go into the smithy at all himself, +but trusted entirely to his journeyman, who had complete charge +of everything.</p> + +<p>Well, it happened one day that the master was not at home, +and the journeyman was left all by himself in the smithy. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +Presently he saw an old lady<a name="FNanchor_70_70" id="FNanchor_70_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a> driving along the street in her +carriage, whereupon he popped his head out of doors and began +shouting:—</p> + +<p>“Heigh, sirs! Be so good as to step in here! We’ve +opened a new business here; we turn old folks into young +ones.”</p> + +<p>Out of her carriage jumped the lady in a trice, and ran into +the smithy.</p> + +<p>“What’s that you’re bragging about? Do you mean to say +it’s true? Can you really do it?” she asked the youth.</p> + +<p>“We haven’t got to learn our business!” answered the +Demon. “If I hadn’t been able to do it, I wouldn’t have invited +people to try.”</p> + +<p>“And how much does it cost?” asked the lady.</p> + +<p>“Five hundred roubles altogether.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, there’s your money; make a young woman of +me.”</p> + +<p>The Demon took the money; then he sent the lady’s coachman +into the village.</p> + +<p>“Go,” says he, “and bring me here two buckets full of +milk.”</p> + +<p>After that he took a pair of tongs, caught hold of the lady +by the feet, flung her into the furnace, and burnt her up; nothing +was left of her but her bare bones.</p> + +<p>When the buckets of milk were brought, he emptied them +into a large tub, then he collected all the bones and flung them +into the milk. Just fancy! at the end of about three minutes +the lady emerged from the milk—alive, and young, and beautiful!</p> + +<p>Well, she got into her carriage and drove home. There she +went straight to her husband, and he stared hard at her, but +didn’t know she was his wife.</p> + +<p>“What are you staring at?” says the lady. “I’m young and +elegant, you see, and I don’t want to have an old husband! Be +off at once to the smithy, and get them to make you young; if +you don’t, I won’t so much as acknowledge you!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +There was no help for it; off set the seigneur. But by that +time the Smith had returned home, and had gone into the +smithy. He looked about; the journeyman wasn’t to be seen. +He searched and searched, he enquired and enquired, never a +thing came of it; not even a trace of the youth could be found. +He took to his work by himself, and was hammering away, +when at that moment up drove the seigneur, and walked straight +into the smithy.</p> + +<p>“Make a young man of me,” says he.</p> + +<p>“Are you in your right mind, Barin? How can one make a +young man of you?”</p> + +<p>“Come, now! you know all about that.”</p> + +<p>“I know nothing of the kind.”</p> + +<p>“You lie, you scoundrel! Since you made my old woman +young, make me young too; otherwise, there will be no living +with her for me.”</p> + +<p>“Why I haven’t so much as seen your good lady.”</p> + +<p>“Your journeyman saw her, and that’s just the same thing. +If he knew how to do the job, surely you, an old hand, must +have learnt how to do it long ago. Come, now, set to work at +once. If you don’t, it will be the worse for you. I’ll have you +rubbed down with a birch-tree towel.”</p> + +<p>The Smith was compelled to try his hand at transforming +the seigneur. He held a private conversation with the coachman +as to how his journeyman had set to work with the lady, +and what he had done to her, and then he thought:—</p> + +<p>“So be it! I’ll do the same. If I fall on my feet, good; if +I don’t, well, I must suffer all the same!”</p> + +<p>So he set to work at once, stripped the seigneur naked, laid +hold of him by the legs with the tongs, popped him into the +furnace, and began blowing the bellows. After he had burnt +him to a cinder, he collected his remains, flung them into the +milk, and then waited to see how soon a youthful seigneur +would jump out of it. He waited one hour, two hours. But +nothing came of it. He made a search in the tub. There was +nothing in it but bones, and those charred ones.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +Just then the lady sent messengers to the smithy, to ask +whether the seigneur would soon be ready. The poor Smith +had to reply that the seigneur was no more.</p> + +<p>When the lady heard that the Smith had only turned her +husband into a cinder, instead of making him young, she was +tremendously angry, and she called together her trusty servants, +and ordered them to drag him to the gallows. No sooner said +than done. Her servants ran to the Smith’s house, laid hold of +him, tied his hands together, and dragged him off to the gallows. +All of a sudden there came up with them the youngster +who used to live with the Smith as his journeyman, who asked +him:—</p> + +<p>“Where are they taking you, master?”</p> + +<p>“They’re going to hang me,” replied the Smith, and straightway +related all that had happened to him.</p> + +<p>“Well, uncle!” said the Demon, “swear that you will never +strike me with your hammer, but that you will pay me the same +respect your father always paid, and the seigneur shall be alive, +and young, too, in a trice.”</p> + +<p>The Smith began promising and swearing that he would +never again lift his hammer against the Demon, but would +always pay him every attention. Thereupon the journeyman +hastened to the smithy, and shortly afterwards came back again, +bringing the seigneur with him, and crying to the servants:</p> + +<p>“Hold! hold! Don’t hang him! Here’s your master!”</p> + +<p>Then they immediately untied the cords, and let the Smith +go free.</p> + +<p>From that time forward the Smith gave up spitting at the +Demon and striking him with his hammer. The journeyman +disappeared, and was never seen again. But the seigneur and +his lady entered upon a prosperous course of life, and if they +haven’t died, they’re living still.<a name="FNanchor_71_71" id="FNanchor_71_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a></p> +</div> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Dasent’s “Popular Tales from the Norse,” p. xl.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Max Müller, “Chips,” vol. ii. p. 226.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Take as an illustration of these remarks the close of the story of “<ins class="correction" title="Helen in original">Helena</ins> the +Fair” (<a href="#Page_262">No. 34, Chap. IV.</a>). See how light and bright it is (or at least was, before it +was translated).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> I speak only of what I have seen. In some districts of Russia, if one may +judge from pictures, the peasants occupy ornamented and ornamental dwellings.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Khudyakof, vol. ii. p. 65.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Khudyakof, vol. ii. p. 115.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> For a description of such social gatherings see the “Songs of the Russian +People,” pp. 32-38.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 66.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Cakes of unleavened flour flavored with garlic.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> The <i>Nechistol</i>, or unclean. (<i>Chisty</i> = clean, pure, &c.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Literally, “on thee no face is to be seen.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> I do not propose to comment at any length upon the stories quoted in the present +chapter. Some of them will be referred to farther on. Marusia’s demon lover will be +recognized as akin to Arabian Ghouls, or the Rákshasas of Indian mythology. (See +the story of Sidi Norman in the “Thousand and One Nights,” also Lane’s translation, +vol. i., p. 32; and the story of Asokadatta and Vijayadatta in the fifth book of +the “Kathásaritságara,” Brockhaus’s translation, 1843, vol. ii. pp. 142-159.) For +transformations of a maiden into a flower or tree, see Grimm, No. 76, “Die Nelke,” +and the notes to that story in vol. iii., p. 125—Hahn, No. 21, “Das Lorbeerkind,” +etc. “The Water of Life,” will meet with due consideration in the <a href="#Page_237">fourth chapter</a>. +The Holy Water which destroys the Fiend is merely a Christian form of the “Water +of Death,” viewed in its negative aspect.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Chudinsky, No. 3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. p. 325. Wolfs “Niederlandische Sagen,” No. 326, quoted in +Thorpe’s “Northern Mythology,” i. 292. Note 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> A number of ghost stories, and some remarks about the ideas of the Russian +peasants with respect to the dead, will be found in <a href="#Page_295">Chap. V</a>. Scott mentions a +story in “The Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border,” vol. ii. p. 223, of a widower who +believed he was haunted by his dead wife. On one occasion the ghost, to prove her +identity, gave suck to her surviving infant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. p. 165.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> In West-European stories the devil frequently carries off a witch’s soul after +death. Here the fiend enters the corpse, or rather its skin, probably intending to +reappear as a vampire. Compare Bleek’s “Reynard the Fox in South Africa,” +No. 24, in which a lion squeezes itself into the skin of a girl it has killed. I have +generally rendered by “demon,” instead of “devil,” the word <i>chort</i> when it occurs +in stories of this class, as the spirits to which they refer are manifestly akin to those +of oriental demonology.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> For an account of which, see the “Songs of the Russian People,” pp. 333-334. +The best Russian work on the subject is Barsof’s “Prichitaniya Syevernago Kraya,” +Moscow, 1872.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. No. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Professor de Gubernatis justly remarks that this “howling” is more in keeping +with the nature of the eastern jackal than with that of its western counterpart, +the fox. “Zoological Mythology,” ii. 130.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 45.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> <i>Pope</i> is the ordinary but disrespectful term for a priest (<i>Svyashchennik</i>), +as <i>popovich</i> is for a priest’s son.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> “Father dear,” or “reverend father.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> A phrase often used by the peasants, when frightened by anything of supernatural +appearance.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Afanasief, Skazki, vii. No. 49.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> The Russian expression is <i>gol kak sokòl</i>, “bare as a hawk.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> In another story St. <ins class="correction" title="Nicola’s in original">Nicolas’s</ins> picture is the surety.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Another variant of this story, under the title of “<a href="#Page_86">Norka</a>,” will be quoted in full in +the <a href="#Page_75">next chapter</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. p. 107.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. p. 146.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> Or “The Seven-year-old.” Khudyakof, No. 6. See Grimm, No. 94, +“<ins class="correction" title="Dei in original">Die</ins> kluge Bauerntochter,” and iii. 170-2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <i>Voevoda</i>, now a general, formerly meant a civil governor, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Afanasief. “Legendui,” No. 29.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Diminutive of Peter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> The word employed here is not <i>chort</i>, but <i>diavol</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Some remarks on the stories of this class, will be found in <a href="#Page_329">Chap. VI</a>. The +Russian peasants still believe that all people who drink themselves to death are used +as carriers of wood and water in the infernal regions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> In the sixty-fourth story of Asbjörnsen’s “Norske Folke-Eventyr,” (Ny Samling, +1871) the dispute between the husband and wife is about a cornfield—as to +whether it should be reaped or shorn—and she tumbles into a pool while she is making +clipping gestures “under her husband’s nose.” In the old fabliau of “Le Pré +Tondu” (Le Grand d’Aussy, Fabliaux, 1829, iii. 185), the husband cuts out the +tongue of his wife, to prevent her from repeating that his meadow has been clipped, +whereupon she makes a clipping sign with her fingers. In Poggio’s “Facetiæ,” the +wife is doubly aggravating. For copious information with respect to the use made +of this story by the romance-writers, see Liebrecht’s translations of Basile’s “Pentamerone,” +ii. 264, and of Dunlop’s “History of Literature,” p. 516.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Afanasief, v. p. 16.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a name="Footnote_49a_49a" id="Footnote_49a_49a"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Ibid., iii. p. 87.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> Chudinsky, No. 8. The proverb is dear to the Tartars also.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Ibid. No. 23. The <i>liulka</i>, or Russian cradle, is suspended and swung, instead +of being placed on the floor and rocked. Russian babies are usually swaddled +tightly, like American papooses.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> “Panchatantra,” 1859, vol. i. § 212, pp. 519-524. I gladly avail myself of this +opportunity of gratefully acknowledging my obligations to Dr. Benfey’s invaluable +work.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> Afanasief, i. No. 9. Written down in the Novgorod Government. Its dialect +renders it somewhat difficult to read.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> This +story is known to the Finns, but with them the Russian Demon, (<i><ins class="correction" title="chortevnok in original">chortenok</ins></i> = a +little <i>chort</i> or devil), has become the Plague. In the original Indian story the demon +is one which had formerly lived in a Brahman’s house, but had been frightened +away by his cantankerous wife. In the Servian version (Karajich, No. 37), the +opening consists of the “Scissors-story,” to which allusion has already been made. +The vixen falls into a hole which she does not see, so bent is she on controverting her +husband.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. No. 12. Written down by a “Crown Serf,” in the government of +Perm.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. No. 20. A copeck is worth about a third of a penny.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> The story is continued very little further by Afanasief, its conclusion being the +same as that of “The Wise Wife,” in Book vii. No. 22, a tale of magic. For a Servian +version of the tale see Vuk Karajich, No. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 3. From the Novgorod Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Literally, “has bid to live long,” a conventional euphemism for “has died.” +“Remember what his name was,” is sometimes added.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_60_60" id="Footnote_60_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> It will be observed that the miser holds out against the pain which the scalded +demon was unable to bear. See above, p. <a href="#Page_21">21</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_61_61" id="Footnote_61_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Professor de Gubernatis remarks that he may sometimes be called “the first +Brutus of popular tradition.” “Zoological Mythology,” vol. i. p. 199.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_62_62" id="Footnote_62_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 53.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_63_63" id="Footnote_63_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> <i>Zavtrakami podchivat</i> = to dupe; <i>zavtra</i> = to-morrow; <i>zavtrak</i> = +breakfast.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_64_64" id="Footnote_64_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> One of the inferior members of the Russian clerical body, though not of the +clergy. But in one of the variants of the story it is a “pope” or priest, who appears, +and he immediately claims a share in the spoil. Whereupon the Simpleton makes use +of his hatchet. Priests are often nicknamed goats by the Russian peasantry, perhaps +on account of their long beards.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_65_65" id="Footnote_65_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. No. 8, v. No. 5. See also Khudyakof, No. 76. Cf. Grimm, No. +34, “Die kluge Else.” Haltrich, No. 66. Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 10. (Dasent +No. 24, “Not a Pin to choose between them.”)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_66_66" id="Footnote_66_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. No. 5. Written down by a crown-peasant in the government of +Perm.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_67_67" id="Footnote_67_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> <i>Mizgir</i>, a venomous spider, like the Tarantula, found in the Kirghiz Steppes.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_68_68" id="Footnote_68_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> In another story bearing the same title (v. 39) the spider lies on its back awaiting +its prey. Up comes “the honorable widow,” the wasp, and falls straight into the +trap. The spider beheads her. Then the gnats and flies assemble, perform a funeral +service over her remains, and carry them off on their shoulders to the village of +Komarovo (<i>komar</i> = gnat). For specimens of the Russian “Beast-Epos” the +reader is referred (as I have stated in the preface) to Professor de Gubernatis’s +“Zoological Mythology.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_69_69" id="Footnote_69_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> Afanasief, “Legendui,” No. 31. Taken from Dahl’s collection. Some remarks +on the Russian “legends” are given in <a href="#Page_329">Chap. VI</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_70_70" id="Footnote_70_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> <i>Baruinya</i>, the wife of a <i>barin</i> or seigneur.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_71_71" id="Footnote_71_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> The <i>chort</i> of this legend is evidently akin to the devil himself, whom traditions +frequently connect with blacksmiths; but his prototype, in the original form of this +story, was doubtless a demigod or demon. His part is played by St. Nicholas in the +legend of “<a href="#Page_355">The Priest with the Greedy Eyes</a>,” for which, and for further comment on +the story, see <a href="#Page_329">Chap. VI</a>.</p></div> +</div> + + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>MYTHOLOGICAL.</h3> + +<h3><i>Principal Incarnations of Evil.</i></h3> + + +<p>The present chapter is devoted to specimens of those +skazkas which most Russian critics assert to be distinctly +mythical. The stories of this class are so numerous, that +the task of selection has been by no means easy. But I +have done my best to choose such examples as are most +characteristic of that species of the “mythical” folk-tale +which prevails in Russia, and to avoid, as far as possible, +the repetition of narratives which have already been made +familiar to the English reader by translations of German +and Scandinavian stories.</p> + +<p>There is a more marked individuality in the Russian +tales of this kind, as compared with those of Western +Europe, than is to be traced in the stories (especially those +of a humorous cast) which relate to the events that chequer +an ordinary existence. The actors in the <i>comediettas</i> of +European peasant-life vary but little, either in title or in +character, wherever the scene may be laid; just as in the +European beast-epos the Fox, the Wolf, and the Bear play +parts which change but slightly with the regions they inhabit. +But the supernatural beings which people the +fairy-land peculiar to each race, though closely resembling +each other in many respects, differ conspicuously in others. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +They may, it is true, be nothing more than various +developments of the same original type; they may be +traceable to germs common to the prehistoric ancestors of +the now widely separated Aryan peoples; their peculiarities +may simply be due to the accidents to which travellers +from distant lands are liable. But at all events each family +now has features of its own, typical characteristics by +which it may be readily distinguished from its neighbors. +My chief aim at present is to give an idea of those characteristics +which lend individuality to the “mythical +beings” in the Skazkas; in order to effect this, I shall +attempt a delineation of those supernatural figures, to +some extent peculiar to Slavonic fairy-land, which make +their appearance in the Russian folk-tales. I have given +a brief sketch of them elsewhere.<a name="FNanchor_72_72" id="FNanchor_72_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> I now propose to deal +with them more fully, quoting at length, instead of merely +mentioning, some of the evidence on which the proof of +their existence depends.</p> + +<p>For the sake of convenience, we may select from the +great mass of the mythical skazkas those which are supposed +most manifestly to typify the conflict of opposing +elements—whether of Good and Evil, or of Light and +Darkness, or of Heat and Cold, or of any other pair of +antagonistic forces or phenomena. The typical hero of +this class of stories, who represents the cause of right, and +who is resolved by mythologists into so many different +essences, presents almost identically the same appearance +in most of the countries wherein he has become naturalized. +He is endowed with supernatural powers, but he +remains a man, for all that. Whether as prince or peasant, +he alters but very little in his wanderings among the Aryan +races of Europe.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +And a somewhat similar statement may be made about +his feminine counterpart—for all the types of Fairy-land +life are of an epicene nature, admitting of a feminine as +well as a masculine development—the heroine who in the +Skazkas, as well as in other folk-tales, braves the wrath of +female demons in quest of means whereby to lighten the +darkness of her home, or rescues her bewitched brothers +from the thraldom of an enchantress, or liberates her +captive husband from a dungeon’s gloom.</p> + +<p>But their antagonists—the dark or evil beings whom +the hero attacks and eventually destroys, or whom the +heroine overcomes by her virtues, her subtlety, or her skill—vary +to a considerable extent with the region they +occupy, or rather with the people in whose memories they +dwell. The Giants by killing whom our own Jack gained +his renown, the Norse Trolls, the Ogres of southern +romance, the Drakos and Lamia of modern Greece, the +Lithuanian Laume—these and all the other groups of +monstrous forms under which the imagination of each race +has embodied its ideas about (according to one hypothesis) +the Powers of Darkness it feared, or (according to another) +the Aborigines it detested, differ from each other to a considerable +and easily recognizable extent. An excellent +illustration of this statement is offered by the contrast +between the Slavonic group of supernatural beings of this +class and their equivalents in lands tenanted by non-Slavonic +members of the Indo-European family. A family +likeness will, of course, be traced between all these conceptions +of popular fancy, but the gloomy figures with +which the folk-tales of the Slavonians render us familiar +may be distinguished at a glance among their kindred +monsters of Latin, Hellenic, Teutonic, or Celtic extraction. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +Of those among the number to which the Russian +skazkas relate I will now proceed to give a sketch, allowing +the stories, so far as is possible, to speak for themselves.</p> + +<p>If the powers of darkness in the “mythical” skazkas +are divided into two groups—the one male, the other +female—there stand out as the most prominent figures in +the former set, the Snake (or some other illustration of +“Zoological Mythology”), Koshchei the Deathless, and +the Morskoi Tsar or King of the Waters. In the latter +group the principal characters are the Baba Yaga, or Hag, +her close connection the Witch, and the Female Snake. +On the forms and natures of the less conspicuous characters +to be found in either class we will not at present +dwell. An opportunity for commenting on some of them +will be afforded in another chapter.</p> + +<p>To begin with the Snake. His outline, like that of the +cloud with which he is so frequently associated, and which +he is often supposed to typify, is seldom well-defined. +Now in one form and now in another, he glides a shifting +shape, of which it is difficult to obtain a satisfactory +view. Sometimes he retains throughout the story an +exclusively reptilian character; sometimes he is of a +mixed nature, partly serpent and partly man. In one +story we see him riding on horseback, with hawk on wrist +(or raven on shoulder) and hound at heel; in another +he figures as a composite being with a human body and +a serpent’s head; in a third he flies as a fiery snake +into his mistress’s bower, stamps with his foot on the +ground, and becomes a youthful gallant. But in most +cases he is a serpent which in outward appearance seems +to differ from other ophidians only in being winged and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +polycephalous—the number of his heads generally varying +from three to twelve.<a name="FNanchor_73_73" id="FNanchor_73_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a></p> + +<p>He is often known by the name of Zméï [snake] Goruinuich +[son of the <i>gora</i> or mountain], and sometimes he is +supposed to dwell in the mountain caverns. To his abode, +whether in the bowels of the earth, or in the open light of +day—whether it be a sumptuous palace or “an <i>izba</i> on +fowl’s legs,” a hut upheld by slender supports on which it +turns as on a pivot—he carries off his prey. In one story +he appears to have stolen, or in some way concealed, the +day-light; in another the bright moon and the many stars +come forth from within him after his death. But as a +general rule it is some queen or princess whom he tears +away from her home, as Pluto carried off Proserpina, and +who remains with him reluctantly, and hails as her rescuer +the hero who comes to give him battle. Sometimes, however, +the snake is represented as having a wife of his own +species, and daughters who share their parent’s tastes and +powers. Such is the case in the (South-Russian) story of</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Ivan Popyalof.</span><a name="FNanchor_74_74" id="FNanchor_74_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there was an old couple, and they had three +sons. Two of these had their wits about them, but the third +was a simpleton, Ivan by name, surnamed Popyalof.</p> + +<p>For twelve whole years Ivan lay among the ashes from the +stove; but then he arose, and shook himself, so that six poods +of ashes<a name="FNanchor_75_75" id="FNanchor_75_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a> fell off from him.</p> + +<p>Now in the land in which Ivan lived there was never any +day, but always night. That was a Snake’s doing. Well, Ivan +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +undertook to kill that Snake, so he said to his father, “Father, +make me a mace five poods in weight.” And when he had got +the mace, he went out into the fields, and flung it straight up in +the air, and then he went home. The next day he went out into +the fields to the spot from which he had flung the mace on high, +and stood there with his head thrown back. So when the mace +fell down again it hit him on the forehead. And the mace +broke in two.</p> + +<p>Ivan went home and said to his father, “Father, make me +another mace, a ten pood one.” And when he had got it he +went out into the fields, and flung it aloft. And the mace went +flying through the air for three days and three nights. On the +fourth day Ivan went out to the same spot, and when the mace +came tumbling down, he put his knee in the way, and the mace +broke over it into three pieces.</p> + +<p>Ivan went home and told his father to make him a third +mace, one of fifteen poods weight. And when he had got it, he +went out into the fields and flung it aloft. And the mace was +up in the air six days. On the seventh Ivan went to the same +spot as before. Down fell the mace, and when it struck Ivan’s +forehead, the forehead bowed under it. Thereupon he said, +“This mace will do for the Snake!”</p> + +<p>So when he had got everything ready, he went forth with +his brothers to fight the Snake. He rode and rode, and presently +there stood before him a hut on fowl’s legs,<a name="FNanchor_76_76" id="FNanchor_76_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> and in that +hut lived the Snake. There all the party came to a standstill. +Then Ivan hung up his gloves, and said to his brothers, “Should +blood drop from my gloves, make haste to help me.” When he +had said this he went into the hut and sat down under the +boarding.<a name="FNanchor_77_77" id="FNanchor_77_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a></p> + +<p>Presently there rode up a Snake with three heads. His +steed stumbled, his hound howled, his falcon clamored.<a name="FNanchor_78_78" id="FNanchor_78_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a> Then +cried the Snake:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> +“Wherefore hast thou stumbled, O Steed! hast thou howled, +O Hound! hast thou clamored, O Falcon?”</p> + +<p>“How can I but stumble,” replied the Steed, “when under +the boarding sits Ivan Popyalof?”</p> + +<p>Then said the Snake, “Come forth, Ivanushka! Let us +try our strength together.” Ivan came forth, and they began to +fight. And Ivan killed the Snake, and then sat down again +beneath the boarding.</p> + +<p>Presently there came another Snake, a six-headed one, and +him, too, Ivan killed. And then there came a third, which had +twelve heads. Well, Ivan began to fight with him, and lopped +off nine of his heads. The Snake had no strength left in him. +Just then a raven came flying by, and it croaked:</p> + +<p>“Krof? Krof!”<a name="FNanchor_79_79" id="FNanchor_79_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a></p> + +<p>Then the Snake cried to the Raven, “Fly, and tell my wife +to come and devour Ivan Popyalof.”</p> + +<p>But Ivan cried: “Fly, and tell my brothers to come, and +then we will kill this Snake, and give his flesh to thee.”</p> + +<p>And the Raven gave ear to what Ivan said, and flew to his +brothers and began to croak above their heads. The brothers +awoke, and when they heard the cry of the Raven, they hastened +to their brother’s aid. And they killed the Snake, and then, +having taken his heads, they went into his hut and destroyed +them. And immediately there was bright light throughout the +whole land.</p> + +<p>After killing the Snake, Ivan Popyalof and his brothers set +off on their way home. But he had forgotten to take away his +gloves, so he went back to fetch them, telling his brothers to +wait for him meanwhile. Now when he had reached the hut +and was going to take away his gloves, he heard the voices of +the Snake’s wife and daughters, who were talking with each +other. So he turned himself into a cat, and began to mew +outside the door. They let him in, and he listened to everything +they said. Then he got his gloves and hastened away.</p> + +<p>As soon as he came to where his brothers were, he mounted +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> +his horse, and they all started afresh. They rode and rode; +presently they saw before them a green meadow, and on that +meadow lay silken cushions. Then the elder brothers said, +“Let’s turn out our horses to graze here, while we rest ourselves +a little.”</p> + +<p>But Ivan said, “Wait a minute, brothers!” and he seized +his mace, and struck the cushions with it. And out of those +cushions there streamed blood.</p> + +<p>So they all went on further. They rode and rode; presently +there stood before them an apple-tree, and upon it were gold +and silver apples. Then the elder brothers said, “Let’s eat an +apple apiece.” But Ivan said, “Wait a minute, brothers; I’ll +try them first,” and he took his mace, and struck the apple-tree +with it. And out of the tree streamed blood.</p> + +<p>So they went on further. They rode and rode, and by and +by they saw a spring in front of them. And the elder brothers +cried, “Let’s have a drink of water.” But Ivan Popyalof +cried: “Stop, brothers!” and he raised his mace and struck +the spring, and its waters became blood.</p> + +<p>For the meadow, the silken cushions, the apple-tree, and the +spring, were all of them daughters of the Snake.</p> + +<p>After killing the Snake’s daughters, Ivan and his brothers +went on homewards. Presently came the Snake’s Wife flying +after them, and she opened her jaws from the sky to the earth, +and tried to swallow up Ivan. But Ivan and his brothers threw +three poods of salt into her mouth. She swallowed the salt, +thinking it was Ivan Popyalof, but afterwards—when she had +tasted the salt, and found out it was not Ivan—she flew after +him again.</p> + +<p>Then he perceived that danger was at hand, and so he let +his horse go free, and hid himself behind twelve doors in the +forge of Kuzma and Demian. The Snake’s Wife came flying +up, and said to Kuzma and Demian, “Give me up Ivan Popyalof.” +But they replied:</p> + +<p>“Send your tongue through the twelve doors and take him.” +So the Snake’s Wife began licking the doors. But meanwhile +they all heated iron pincers, and as soon as she had sent her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +tongue through into the smithy, they caught tight hold of her +by the tongue, and began thumping her with hammers. And +when the Snake’s Wife was dead they consumed her with fire, +and scattered her ashes to the winds. And then they went +home, and there they lived and enjoyed themselves, feasting +and revelling, and drinking mead and wine.</p> + +<p>I was there, too, and had liquor to drink; it didn’t go into +my mouth, but only ran down my beard.<a name="FNanchor_80_80" id="FNanchor_80_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The skazka of Ivan Buikovich (Bull’s son)<a name="FNanchor_81_81" id="FNanchor_81_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a> contains a +variant of part of this story, but the dragon which the +Slavonic St. George kills is called, not a snake, but a +Chudo-Yudo.<a name="FNanchor_82_82" id="FNanchor_82_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a> Ivan watches one night while his brothers +sleep. Presently up rides “a six-headed Chudo-Yudo” +which he easily kills. The next night he slays, but with +more difficulty, a nine-headed specimen of the same family. +On the third night appears “a twelve-headed Chudo-Yudo,” +mounted on a horse “with twelve wings, its coat of silver, +its mane and tail of gold.” Ivan lops off three of the +monster’s heads, but they, like those of the Lernæan Hydra, +become re-attached to their necks at the touch of their +owner’s “fiery finger.” Ivan, whom his foe has driven into +the ground up to his knees, hurls one of his gloves at the +hut in which his brothers are sleeping. It smashes the +windows, but the sleepers slumber on and take no heed. +Presently Ivan smites off six of his antagonist’s heads, but +they grow again as before.<a name="FNanchor_83_83" id="FNanchor_83_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a> Half buried in the ground by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> +the monster’s strength, Ivan hurls his other glove at the +hut, piercing its roof this time. But still his brothers +slumber on. At last, after fruitlessly shearing off nine of +the Chudo-Yudo’s heads, and finding himself embedded in +the ground up to his armpits, Ivan flings his cap at the hut. +The hut reels under the blow and its beams fall asunder; +his brothers awake, and hasten to his aid, and the Chudo-Yudo +is destroyed. The “Chudo-Yudo wives” as the +widows of the three monsters are called, then proceed to +play the parts attributed in “Ivan Popyalof” to the Snake’s +daughters.</p> + +<p>“I will become an apple-tree with golden and silver +apples,” says the first; “whoever plucks an apple will immediately +burst.” Says the second, “I will become a spring—on +the water will float two cups, the one golden, the other +of silver; whoever touches one of the cups, him will I drown.” +And the third says, “I will become a golden bed; whoever +lies down upon that bed will be consumed with fire.” Ivan, +in a sparrow’s form, overhears all this, and acts as in the +preceding story. The three widows die, but their mother, +“an old witch,” determines on revenge. Under the form of +a beggar-woman she asks alms from the retreating brothers. +Ivan tenders her a ducat. She seizes, not the ducat, but +his outstretched hand, and in a moment whisks him off underground +to her husband, an Aged One, whose appearance +is that of the mythical being whom the Servians call the +Vy. He “lies on an iron couch, and sees nothing; his long +eyelashes and thick eyebrows completely hide his eyes,” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> +but he sends for “twelve mighty heroes,” and orders them to +take iron forks and lift up the hair about his eyes, and then +he gazes at the destroyer of his family. The glance of the +Servian Vy is supposed to be as deadly as that of a +basilisk, but the patriarch of the Russian story does not +injure his captive. He merely sends him on an errand +which leads to a fresh set of adventures, of which we need +not now take notice.</p> + +<p>In a third variant of the story,<a name="FNanchor_84_84" id="FNanchor_84_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> they are snakes which are +killed by the hero, Ivan Koshkin (Cat’s son), and it is a +Baba Yaga, or Hag, who undertakes to revenge their deaths +and those of their wives, her daughters. Accordingly she +pursues the three brothers, and succeeds in swallowing two +of them. The third, Ivan Koshkin, takes refuge in a smithy, +and, as before, the monster’s tongue is seized, and she is +beaten with hammers until she disgorges her prey, none the +worse for their temporary imprisonment.</p> + +<p>We have seen, in the story about the Chudo-Yudo, +that the place usually occupied by the Snake is at times +filled by some other magical being. This frequently occurs +in that class of stories which relates how three brothers set +out to apprehend a trespasser, or to seek a mother or sister +who has been mysteriously spirited away. They usually +come either to an opening which leads into the underground +world, or to the base of an apparently inaccessible hill. +The youngest brother descends or ascends as the case may +be, and after a series of adventures which generally lead +him through the kingdoms of copper, of silver, and of gold, +returns in triumph to where his brothers are awaiting him. +And he is almost invariably deserted by them, as soon as +they have secured the beautiful princesses who accompany +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> +him—as may be read in the following (South-Russian) +history of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Norka.</span><a name="FNanchor_85_85" id="FNanchor_85_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there lived a king and queen. They had three +sons, two of them with their wits about them, but the third a +simpleton. Now the King had a deer-park in which were quantities +of wild animals of different kinds. Into that park there +used to come a huge beast—Norka was its name—and do fearful +mischief, devouring some of the animals every night. The King +did all he could, but he was unable to destroy it. So at last he +called his sons together and said: “Whoever will destroy the +Norka, to him will I give the half of my kingdom.”</p> + +<p>Well, the eldest son undertook the task. As soon as it was +night, he took his weapons and set out. But before he reached +the park, he went into a <i>traktir</i> (or tavern), and there he spent +the whole night in revelry. When he came to his senses it was +too late; the day had already dawned. He felt himself disgraced +in the eyes of his father, but there was no help for it. The next +day the second son went, and did just the same. Their father +scolded them both soundly, and there was an end of it.</p> + +<p>Well, on the third day the youngest son undertook the task. +They all laughed him to scorn, because he was so stupid, feeling +sure he wouldn’t do anything. But he took his arms, and went +straight into the park, and sat down on the grass in such a position +that, the moment he went asleep, his weapons would prick +him, and he would awake.</p> + +<p>Presently the midnight hour sounded. The earth began to +shake, and the Norka came rushing up, and burst right through +the fence into the park, so huge was it. The Prince pulled himself +together, leapt to his feet, crossed himself, and went straight +at the beast. It fled back, and the Prince ran after it. But he +soon saw that he couldn’t catch it on foot, so he hastened to the +stable, laid his hands on the best horse there, and set off in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +pursuit. Presently he came up with the beast, and they began a +fight. They fought and fought; the Prince gave the beast three +wounds. At last they were both utterly exhausted, so they lay +down to take a short rest. But the moment the Prince closed his +eyes, up jumped the Beast and took to flight. The Prince’s horse +awoke him; up he jumped in a moment, and set off again in +pursuit, caught up the Beast, and again began fighting with it. +Again the Prince gave the Beast three wounds, and then he and +the Beast lay down again to rest. Thereupon away fled the +Beast as before. The Prince caught it up, and again gave it +three wounds. But all of a sudden, just as the Prince began +chasing it for the fourth time, the Beast fled to a great white +stone, tilted it up, and escaped into the other world,<a name="FNanchor_86_86" id="FNanchor_86_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> crying out +to the Prince: “Then only will you overcome me, when you +enter here.”</p> + +<p>The Prince went home, told his father all that had happened, +and asked him to have a leather rope plaited, long enough to +reach to the other world. His father ordered this to be done. +When the rope was made, the Prince called for his brothers, and +he and they, having taken servants with them, and everything that +was needed for a whole year, set out for the place where the +Beast had disappeared under the stone. When they got there, +they built a palace on the spot, and lived in it for some time. +But when everything was ready, the youngest brother said to +the others: “Now, brothers, who is going to lift this stone?”</p> + +<p>Neither of them could so much as stir it, but as soon as he +touched it, away it flew to a distance, though it was ever so big—big +as a hill. And when he had flung the stone aside, he spoke +a second time to his brothers, saying:</p> + +<p>“Who is going into the other world, to overcome the Norka?”</p> + +<p>Neither of them offered to do so. Then he laughed at them +for being such cowards, and said:</p> + +<p>“Well, brothers, farewell! Lower me into the other world, +and don’t go away from here, but as soon as the cord is jerked, +pull it up.”</p> + +<p>His brothers lowered him accordingly, and when he had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +reached the other world, underneath the earth, he went on his +way. He walked and walked. Presently he espied a horse with +rich trappings, and it said to him:</p> + +<p>“Hail, Prince Ivan! Long have I awaited thee!”</p> + +<p>He mounted the horse and rode on—rode and rode, until he +saw standing before him, a palace made of copper. He entered +the courtyard, tied up his horse, and went indoors. In one of +the rooms a dinner was laid out. He sat down and dined, and +then went into a bedroom. There he found a bed, on which he +lay down to rest. Presently there came in a lady, more beautiful +than can be imagined anywhere but in a skazka, who said:</p> + +<p>“Thou who art in my house, name thyself! If thou art an +old man, thou shall be my father; if a middle-aged man, my +brother; but if a young man, thou shalt be my husband dear. +And if thou art a woman, and an old one, thou shalt be my grandmother; +if middle-aged, my mother; and if a girl, thou shalt be +my own sister.”<a name="FNanchor_87_87" id="FNanchor_87_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a></p> + +<p>Thereupon he came forth. And when she saw him, she was +delighted with him, and said:</p> + +<p>“Wherefore, O Prince Ivan—my husband dear shalt thou be!—wherefore +hast thou come hither?”</p> + +<p>Then he told her all that had happened, and she said:</p> + +<p>“That beast which thou wishest to overcome is my brother. +He is staying just now with my second sister, who lives not far +from here in a silver palace. I bound up three of the wounds +which thou didst give him.”</p> + +<p>Well, after this they drank, and enjoyed themselves, and held +sweet converse together, and then the prince took leave of her, +and went on to the second sister, the one who lived in the silver +palace, and with her also he stayed awhile. She told him that +her brother Norka was then at her youngest sister’s. So he +went on to the youngest sister, who lived in a golden palace. +She told him that her brother was at that time asleep on the +blue sea, and she gave him a sword of steel and a draught of the +Water of Strength, and she told him to cut off her brother’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +head at a single stroke. And when he had heard these things, +he went his way.</p> + +<p>And when the Prince came to the blue sea, he looked—there +slept Norka on a stone in the middle of the sea; and when it +snored, the water was agitated for seven versts around. The +Prince crossed himself, went up to it and smote it on the head +with his sword. The head jumped off, saying the while, “Well, +I’m done for now!” and rolled far away into the sea.</p> + +<p>After killing the Beast, the Prince went back again, picking +up all the three sisters by the way, with the intention of taking +them out into the upper world: for they all loved him and would +not be separated from him. Each of them turned her palace +into an egg—for they were all enchantresses—and they taught +him how to turn the eggs into palaces, and back again, and they +handed over the eggs to him. And then they all went to the +place from which they had to be hoisted into the upper world. +And when they came to where the rope was, the Prince took +hold of it and made the maidens fast to it.<a name="FNanchor_88_88" id="FNanchor_88_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a> Then he jerked +away at the rope, and his brothers began to haul it up. And +when they had hauled it up, and had set eyes on the wondrous +maidens, they went aside and said: “Let’s lower the rope, pull +our brother part of the way up, and then cut the rope. Perhaps +he’ll be killed; but then if he isn’t, he’ll never give us these +beauties as wives.”</p> + +<p>So when they had agreed on this, they lowered the rope. +But their brother was no fool; he guessed what they were at, +so he fastened the rope to a stone, and then gave it a pull. +His brothers hoisted the stone to a great height, and then cut +the rope. Down fell the stone and broke in pieces; the Prince +poured forth tears and went away. Well, he walked and walked. +Presently a storm arose; the lightning flashed, the thunder +roared, the rain fell in torrents. He went up to a tree in order +to take shelter under it, and on that tree he saw some young +birds which were being thoroughly drenched. So he took off +his coat and covered them over with it, and he himself sat down +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +under the tree. Presently there came flying a bird—such a big +one, that the light was blotted out by it. It had been dark +there before, but now it became darker still. Now this was the +mother of those small birds which the Prince had covered up. +And when the bird had come flying up, she perceived that her +little ones were covered over, and she said, “Who has wrapped +up my nestlings?” and presently, seeing the Prince, she added: +“Didst thou do that? Thanks! In return, ask of me any +thing thou desirest. I will do anything for thee.”</p> + +<p>“Then carry me into the other world,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Make me a large <i>zasyek</i><a name="FNanchor_89_89" id="FNanchor_89_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a> with a partition in the middle,” +she said; “catch all sorts of game, and put them into one half +of it, and into the other half pour water; so that there may be +meat and drink for me.”</p> + +<p>All this the Prince did. Then the bird—having taken the +<i>zasyek</i> on her back, with the Prince sitting in the middle of it—began +to fly. And after flying some distance she brought him +to his journey’s end, took leave of him, and flew away back. +But he went to the house of a certain tailor, and engaged himself +as his servant. So much the worse for wear was he, so +thoroughly had he altered in appearance, that nobody would +have suspected him of being a Prince.</p> + +<p>Having entered into the service of this master, the Prince +began to ask what was going on in that country. And his +master replied: “Our two princes—for the third one has disappeared—have +brought away brides from the other world, and +want to marry them, but those brides refuse. For they insist +on having all their wedding-clothes made for them first, exactly +like those which they used to have in the other world, and that +without being measured for them. The King has called all the +workmen together, but not one of them will undertake to do it.”</p> + +<p>The Prince, having heard all this, said, “Go to the King, +master, and tell him that you will provide everything that’s in +your line.”</p> + +<p>“However can I undertake to make clothes of that sort; +I work for quite common folks,” says his master.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +“Go along, master! I will answer for everything,” says +the Prince.</p> + +<p>So the tailor went. The King was delighted that at least +one good workman had been found, and gave him as much +money as ever he wanted. When the tailor had settled everything, +he went home. And the Prince said to him:</p> + +<p>“Now then, pray to God, and lie down to sleep; to-morrow +all will be ready.” And the tailor followed his lad’s advice, +and went to bed.</p> + +<p>Midnight sounded. The Prince arose, went out of the city +into the fields, took out of his pocket the eggs which the +maidens had given him, and, as they had taught him, turned +them into three palaces. Into each of these he entered, took +the maidens’ robes, went out again, turned the palaces back +into eggs, and went home. And when he got there he hung up +the robes on the wall, and lay down to sleep.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning his master awoke, and behold! there +hung such robes as he had never seen before, all shining with +gold and silver and precious stones. He was delighted, and he +seized them and carried them off to the King. When the princesses +saw that the clothes were those which had been theirs in +the other world, they guessed that Prince Ivan was in this +world, so they exchanged glances with each other, but they +held their peace. And the master, having handed over the +clothes, went home, but he no longer found his dear journeyman +there. For the Prince had gone to a shoemaker’s, and him too +he sent to work for the King; and in the same way he went the +round of all the artificers, and they all proffered him thanks, +inasmuch as through him they were enriched by the King.</p> + +<p>By the time the princely workman had gone the round of all +the artificers, the princesses had received what they had asked +for; all their clothes were just like what they had been in the +other world. Then they wept bitterly because the Prince had +not come, and it was impossible for them to hold out any +longer, it was necessary that they should be married. But when +they were ready for the wedding, the youngest bride said to the +King:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +“Allow me, my father, to go and give alms to the beggars.”</p> + +<p>He gave her leave, and she went and began bestowing alms +upon them, and examining them closely. And when she had +come to one of them, and was going to give him some money, +she caught sight of the ring which she had given to the Prince +in the other world, and her sisters’ rings too—for it really was +he. So she seized him by the hand, and brought him into the +hall, and said to the King:</p> + +<p>“Here is he who brought us out of the other world. His +brothers forbade us to say that he was alive, threatening to slay +us if we did.”</p> + +<p>Then the King was wroth with those sons, and punished +them as he thought best. And afterwards three weddings were +celebrated.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[The conclusion of this story is somewhat obscure. Most of the variants represent +the Prince as forgiving his brothers, and allowing them to marry two of the three +princesses, but the present version appears to keep closer to its original, in which the +prince doubtless married all three. With this story may be compared: Grimm, No. +166, “Der starke Hans,” and No. 91, “Dat Erdmänneken.” See also vol. iii. p. +165, where a reference is given to the Hungarian story in Gaal, No. 5—Dasent, No. +55, “The Big Bird Dan,” and No. 56, “Soria Moria Castle” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, +Nos. 3 and 2. A somewhat similar story, only the palaces are in the air, occurs in +Asbjörnsen’s “Ny Samling,” No. 72)—Campbell’s “Tales of the West Highlands,” +No. 58—Schleicher’s “Litauische <ins class="correction" title="Mährchen in original">Märchen</ins>,” No. 38—The Polish story, Wojcicki, +Book iii. No. 6, in which Norka is replaced by a witch who breaks the windows of a +church, and is wounded, in falcon-shape, by the youngest brother—Hahn, No. 70, in +which a Drakos, as a cloud, steals golden apples, a story closely resembling the Russian +skazka. See also No. 26, very similar to which is the Servian Story in “Vuk +Karajich,” No. 2—and a very interesting Tuscan story printed for the first time by A. +de Gubernatis, “Zoological Mythology,” vol. ii. p. 187. See also ibid. p. 391.</p> + +<p>But still more important than these are the parallels offered by Indian fiction. +Take, for instance, the story of Sringabhuja, in chap. xxxix. of book vii. of the +“Kathásaritságara.” In it the elder sons of a certain king wish to get rid of their +younger half-brother. One day a Rákshasa appears in the form of a gigantic crane. +The other princes shoot at it in vain, but the youngest wounds it, and then sets off in +pursuit of it, and of the valuable arrow which is fixed in it. After long wandering he +comes to a castle in a forest. There he finds a maiden who tells him she is the +daughter of the Rákshasa whom, in the form of a crane, he has wounded. She at +once takes his part against her demon father, and eventually flies with him to his own +country. The perils which the fugitives have to encounter will be mentioned in the +remarks on Skazka XIX. See Professor Brockhaus’s summary of the story in the +“Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K. Sächs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften,” +1861, pp. 223-6. Also Professor Wilson’s version in his “Essays on Sanskrit Literature,” +vol. ii. pp. 134-5.</p> + +<p>In two other stories in the same collection the hero gives chase to a boar of +gigantic size. It takes refuge in a cavern into which he follows it. Presently he +finds himself in a different world, wherein he meets a beauteous maiden who explains +everything to him. In the first of these two stories the lady is the daughter of a +Rákshasa, who is invulnerable except in the palm of the left hand, for which reason, +our hero, Chandasena has been unable to wound him when in his boar disguise. She +instructs Chandasena how to kill her father, who accordingly falls a victim to a well-aimed +shaft. (Brockhaus’s “Mährchensammlung des Somadeva Bhatta,” 1843, +vol. i. pp. 110-13). In the other story, the lady turns out to be a princess whom “a +demon with fiery eyes” had carried off and imprisoned. She tells the hero, Saktideva, +that the demon has just died from a wound inflicted upon him, while transformed +into a boar, by a bold archer. Saktideva informs her that he is that archer. +Whereupon she immediately requests him to marry her (ibid. vol. ii. p. 175). In both +stories the boar is described as committing great ravages in the upper world until the +hero attacks it.]</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +The Adventures of a prince, the youngest of three +brothers, who has been lowered into the underground world +or who has ascended into an enchanted upper realm, form +the theme of numerous skazkas, several of which are +variants of the story of Norka. The prince’s elder +brothers almost always attempt to kill him, when he is +about to ascend from the gulf or descend from the steeps +which separate him from them. In one instance, the following +excuse is offered for their conduct. The hero has +killed a Snake in the underground world, and is carrying +its head on a lance, when his brothers begin to hoist him +up. “His brothers were frightened at the sight of that head +and thinking the Snake itself was coming, they let Ivan +fall back into the pit.”<a name="FNanchor_90_90" id="FNanchor_90_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a> But this apology for their behavior +seems to be due to the story-teller’s imagination. In some +instances their unfraternal conduct may be explained in +the following manner. In oriental tales the hero is often +the son of a king’s youngest wife, and he is not unnaturally +hated by his half-brothers, the sons of an older queen, +whom the hero’s mother has supplanted in their royal +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> +father’s affections. Accordingly they do their best to get +rid of him. Thus, in one of the Indian stories which +correspond to that of Norka, the hero’s success at court +“excited the envy and jealousy of his brothers [doubtless +half-brothers], and they were not satisfied until they had +devised a plan to effect his removal, and, as they hoped, +accomplish his destruction.”<a name="FNanchor_91_91" id="FNanchor_91_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a> We know also that “Israel +loved Joseph more than all his children,” because he was +the son “of his old age,” and the result was that “when his +brethren [who were only his half-brothers] saw that their +father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated +him.”<a name="FNanchor_92_92" id="FNanchor_92_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a> When such tales as these came west in Christian +times, their references to polygamy were constantly suppressed, +and their distinctions between brothers and half-brothers +disappeared. In the same way the elder and +jealous wife, who had behaved with cruelty in the original +stories to the offspring of her rival, often became turned, +under Christian influences, into a stepmother who hated +her husband’s children by a previous marriage.</p> + +<p>There may, however, be a mythological explanation of +the behavior of the two elder brothers. Professor de Gubernatis +is of opinion that “in the Vedic hymns, Tritas, the +third brother, and the ablest as well as best, is persecuted +by his brothers,” who, “in a fit of jealousy, on account of +his wife, the aurora, and the riches she brings with her from +the realm of darkness, the cistern or well [into which he +has been lowered], detain their brother in the well,”<a name="FNanchor_93_93" id="FNanchor_93_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a> and he +compares this form of the myth with that which it assumes +in the following Hindoo tradition. “Three brothers, +<i>Ekata</i> (<i>i.e.</i> the first), <i>Dwita</i> (<i>i.e.</i> the second) and +<i>Trita</i> (<i>i.e.</i> the third) were travelling in a desert, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +being distressed with thirst, came to a well, from +which the youngest, Trita, drew water and gave it to his +brothers; in requital, they drew him into the well, in order +to appropriate his property and having covered the top +with a cart-wheel, left him in the well. In this extremity +he prayed to the gods to extricate him, and by their favor +he made his escape.”<a name="FNanchor_94_94" id="FNanchor_94_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a> This myth may, perhaps, be the +germ from which have sprung the numerous folk-tales about +the desertion of a younger brother in some pit or chasm, +into which his brothers have lowered him.<a name="FNanchor_95_95" id="FNanchor_95_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a></p> + +<p>It may seem more difficult to account for the willingness +of Norka’s three sisters to aid in his destruction—unless, +indeed, the whole story be considered to be mythological, +as its Indian equivalents undoubtedly are. But in many +versions of the same tale the difficulty does not arise. +The princesses of the copper, silver, and golden realms, +are usually represented as united by no ties of consanguinity +with the snake or other monster whom the hero comes to +kill. In the story of “Usuinya,”<a name="FNanchor_96_96" id="FNanchor_96_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a> for instance, there appears +to be no relationship between these fair maidens and the +“Usuinya-Bird,” which steals the golden apples from a +monarch’s garden and is killed by his youngest son Ivan. +That monster is not so much a bird as a flying dragon. +“This Usuinya-bird is a twelve-headed snake,” says one of +the fair maidens. And presently it arrives—its wings +stretching afar, while along the ground trail its moustaches +[<i>usui</i>, whence its name]. In a variant of the same story in +another collection,<a name="FNanchor_97_97" id="FNanchor_97_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a> the part of Norka is played by a white +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> +wolf. In that of Ivan Suchenko<a name="FNanchor_98_98" id="FNanchor_98_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a> it is divided among three +snakes who have stolen as many princesses. For the +snake is much given to abduction, especially when he +appears under the terrible form of “Koshchei, the Deathless.”</p> + +<p>Koshchei is merely one of the many incarnations of +the dark spirit which takes so many monstrous shapes in +the folk-tales of the class with which we are now dealing. +Sometimes he is described as altogether serpent-like in +form; sometimes he seems to be of a mixed nature, partly +human and partly ophidian, but in some of the stories he +is apparently framed after the fashion of a man. His +name is by some mythologists derived from <i>kost’</i>, a bone +whence comes a verb signifying to become ossified, petrified, +or frozen; either because he is bony of limb, or +because he produces an effect akin to freezing or petrifaction.<a name="FNanchor_99_99" id="FNanchor_99_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a></p> + +<p>He is called “Immortal” or “The Deathless,”<a name="FNanchor_100_100" id="FNanchor_100_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a> because +of his superiority to the ordinary laws of existence. Sometimes, +like Baldur, he cannot be killed except by one substance; +sometimes his “death”—that is, the object with +which his life is indissolubly connected—does not exist +within his body. Like the vital centre of “the giant who +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +had no heart in his body” in the well-known Norse tale, +it is something extraneous to the being whom it affects, +and until it is destroyed he may set all ordinary means of +annihilation at defiance. But this is not always the case, +as may be learnt from one of the best of the skazkas in +which he plays a leading part, the history of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Marya Morevna.</span><a name="FNanchor_101_101" id="FNanchor_101_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain kingdom there lived a Prince Ivan. He had three +sisters. The first was the Princess Marya, the second the Princess +Olga, the third the Princess Anna. When their father and +mother lay at the point of death, they had thus enjoined their +son:—“Give your sisters in marriage to the very first suitors +who come to woo them. Don’t go keeping them by you!”</p> + +<p>They died and the Prince buried them, and then, to solace his +grief, he went with his sisters into the garden green to stroll. +Suddenly the sky was covered by a black cloud; a terrible storm +arose.</p> + +<p>“Let us go home, sisters!” he cried.</p> + +<p>Hardly had they got into the palace, when the thunder +pealed, the ceiling split open, and into the room where they were, +came flying a falcon bright. The Falcon smote upon the ground, +became a brave youth, and said:</p> + +<p>“Hail, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I +have come as a wooer! I wish to propose for your sister, the +Princess Marya.”</p> + +<p>“If you find favor in the eyes of my sister, I will not interfere +with her wishes. Let her marry you in God’s name!”</p> + +<p>The Princess Marya gave her consent; the Falcon married +her and bore her away into his own realm.</p> + +<p>Days follow days, hours chase hours; a whole year goes by. +One day Prince Ivan and his two sisters went out to stroll in +the garden green. Again there arose a stormcloud with whirlwind +and lightning.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +“Let us go home, sisters!” cried the Prince. Scarcely had +they entered the palace, when the thunder crashed, the roof +burst into a blaze, the ceiling split in twain, and in flew an eagle. +The Eagle smote upon the <ins class="correction" title="gronnd in original">ground</ins> and became a brave youth.</p> + +<p>“Hail, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I +have come as a wooer!”</p> + +<p>And he asked for the hand of the Princess Olga. Prince +Ivan replied:</p> + +<p>“If you find favor in the eyes of the Princess Olga, then let +her marry you. I will not interfere with her liberty of choice.”</p> + +<p>The Princess Olga gave her consent and married the Eagle. +The Eagle took her and carried her off to his own kingdom.</p> + +<p>Another year went by. Prince Ivan said to his youngest +sister:</p> + +<p>“Let us go out and stroll in the garden green!”</p> + +<p>They strolled about for a time. Again there arose a stormcloud, +with whirlwind and lightning.</p> + +<p>“Let us return home, sister!” said he.</p> + +<p>They returned home, but they hadn’t had time to sit down +when the thunder<a name="FNanchor_102_102" id="FNanchor_102_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a> crashed, the ceiling split open, and in flew +a raven. The Raven smote upon the floor and became a brave +youth. The former youths had been handsome, but this one +was handsomer still.</p> + +<p>“Well, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I +have come as a wooer. Give me the Princess Anna to wife.”</p> + +<p>“I won’t interfere with my sister’s freedom. If you gain her +affections, let her marry you.”</p> + +<p>So the Princess Anna married the Raven, and he bore her +away to his own realm. Prince Ivan was left alone. A whole +year he lived without his sisters; then he grew weary, and +said:—</p> + +<p>“I will set out in search of my sisters.”</p> + +<p>He got ready for the journey, he rode and rode, and one day +he saw a whole army lying dead on the plain. He cried aloud, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +“If there be a living man there, let him make answer! who has +slain this mighty host?”</p> + +<p>There replied unto him a living man:</p> + +<p>“All this mighty host has been slain by the fair Princess +Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan rode further on, and came to a white tent, and +forth came to meet him the fair Princess Marya Morevna.</p> + +<p>“Hail Prince!” says she, “whither does God send you? +and is it of your free will or against your will?”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan replied, “Not against their will do brave youths +ride!”</p> + +<p>“Well, if your business be not pressing, tarry awhile in my +tent.”</p> + +<p>Thereat was Prince Ivan glad. He spent two nights in the +tent, and he found favor in the eyes of Marya Morevna, and +she married him. The fair Princess, Marya Morevna, carried +him off into her own realm.</p> + +<p>They spent some time together, and then the Princess took +it into her head to go a warring. So she handed over all the +housekeeping affairs to Prince Ivan, and gave him these instructions:</p> + +<p>“Go about everywhere, keep watch over everything, only do +not venture to look into that closet there.”</p> + +<p>He couldn’t help doing so. The moment Marya Morevna +had gone he rushed to the closet, pulled open the door, and +looked in—there hung Koshchei the Deathless, fettered by +twelve chains. Then Koshchei entreated Prince Ivan, saying,—</p> + +<p>“Have pity upon me and give me to drink! Ten years long +have I been here in torment, neither eating or drinking; my +throat is utterly dried up.”</p> + +<p>The Prince gave him a bucketful of water; he drank it up +and asked for more, saying:</p> + +<p>“A single bucket of water will not quench my thirst; give +me more!”</p> + +<p>The Prince gave him a second bucketful. Koshchei drank +it up and asked for a third, and when he had swallowed the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +third bucketful, he regained his former strength, gave his chains +a shake, and broke all twelve at once.</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Prince Ivan!” cried Koshchei the deathless, +“now you will sooner see your own ears than Marya Morevna!” +and out of the window he flew in the shape of a terrible whirlwind. +And he came up with the fair Princess Marya Morevna +as she was going her way, laid hold of her, and carried her off +home with him. But Prince Ivan wept full sore, and he arrayed +himself and set out a wandering, saying to himself: “Whatever +happens, I will go and look for Marya Morevna!”</p> + +<p>One day passed, another day passed: at the dawn of the +third day he saw a wondrous palace, and by the side of the palace +stood an oak, and on the oak sat a falcon bright. Down flew +the Falcon from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a +brave youth and cried aloud:</p> + +<p>“Ha, dear brother-in-law! how deals the Lord with you?”</p> + +<p>Out came running the Princess Marya, joyfully greeted her +brother Ivan, and began enquiring after his health, and telling +him all about herself. The Prince spent three days with them, +then he said:</p> + +<p>“I cannot abide with you; I must go in search of my wife +the fair Princess Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>“Hard will it be for you to find her,” answered the Falcon. +“At all events leave with us your silver spoon. We will look at +it and remember you.” So Prince Ivan left his silver spoon at +the Falcon’s, and went on his way again.</p> + +<p>On he went one day, on he went another day, and by the +dawn of the third day he saw a palace still grander than the former +one, and hard by the palace stood an oak, and on the oak +sat an eagle. Down flew the eagle from the oak, smote upon +the ground, turned into a brave youth, and cried aloud:</p> + +<p>“Rise up, Princess Olga! Hither comes our brother dear!”</p> + +<p>The Princess Olga immediately ran to meet him, and began +kissing him and embracing him, asking after his health and telling +him all about herself. With them Prince Ivan stopped three +days; then he said:</p> + +<p>“I cannot stay here any longer. I am going to look for my +wife, the fair Princess Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +“Hard will it be for you to find her,” replied the Eagle, +“Leave with us a silver fork. We will look at it and remember +you.”</p> + +<p>He left a silver fork behind, and went his way. He travelled +one day, he travelled two days; at daybreak on the third day he +saw a palace grander than the first two, and near the palace +stood an oak, and on the oak sat a raven. Down flew the Raven +from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a brave youth, +and cried aloud:</p> + +<p>“Princess Anna, come forth quickly! our brother is coming!”</p> + +<p>Out ran the Princess Anna, greeted him joyfully, and began +kissing and embracing him, asking after his health and telling +him all about herself. Prince Ivan stayed with them three days; +then he said:</p> + +<p>“Farewell! I am going to look for my wife, the fair Princess +Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>“Hard will it be for you to find her,” replied the Raven, +“Anyhow, leave your silver snuff-box with us. We will look at +it and remember you.”</p> + +<p>The Prince handed over his silver snuff-box, took his leave +and went his way. One day he went, another day he went, and +on the third day he came to where Marya Morevna was. She +caught sight of her love, flung her arms around his neck, burst +into tears, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Oh, Prince Ivan! why did you disobey me, and go looking +into the closet and letting out Koshchei the Deathless?”</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, Marya Morevna! Remember not the past; +much better fly with me while Koshchei the Deathless is out of +sight. Perhaps he won’t catch us.”</p> + +<p>So they got ready and fled. Now Koshchei was out hunting. +Towards evening he was returning home, when his good steed +stumbled beneath him.</p> + +<p>“Why stumblest thou, sorry jade? scentest thou some ill?”</p> + +<p>The steed replied:</p> + +<p>“Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible to catch them?”</p> + +<p>“<ins class="correction" title="Is it in original">It is</ins> possible to sow wheat, to wait till it grows up, to reap +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +it and thresh it, to grind it to flour, to make five pies of it, to +eat those pies, and then to start in pursuit—and even then to be +in time.”</p> + +<p>Koshchei galloped off and caught up Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>“Now,” says he, “this time I will forgive you, in return for +your kindness in giving me water to drink. And a second time +I will forgive you; but the third time beware! I will cut you to +bits.”</p> + +<p>Then he took Marya Morevna from him, and carried her off. +But Prince Ivan sat down on a stone and burst into tears. He +wept and wept—and then returned back again to Marya Morevna. +Now Koshchei the Deathless happened not to be at home.</p> + +<p>“Let us fly, Marya Morevna!”</p> + +<p>“Ah, Prince Ivan! he will catch us.”</p> + +<p>“Suppose he does catch us. At all events we shall have +spent an hour or two together.”</p> + +<p>So they got ready and fled. As Koshchei the Deathless was +returning home, his good steed stumbled beneath him.</p> + +<p>“Why stumblest thou, sorry jade? scentest thou some +ill?”</p> + +<p>“Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible to catch them?”</p> + +<p>“It is possible to sow barley, to wait till it grows up, to reap +it and thresh it, to brew beer, to drink ourselves drunk on it, +to sleep our fill, and then to set off in pursuit—and yet to be in +time.”</p> + +<p>Koshchei galloped off, caught up Prince Ivan:</p> + +<p>“Didn’t I tell you that you should not see Marya Morevna +any more than your own ears?”</p> + +<p>And he took her away and carried her off home with him.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan was left there alone. He wept and wept; then +he went back again after Marya Morevna. Koshchei happened +to be away from home at that moment.</p> + +<p>“Let us fly, Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, Prince Ivan! He is sure to catch us and hew you in +pieces.”</p> + +<p>“Let him hew away! I cannot live without you.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +So they got ready and fled.</p> + +<p>Koshchei the Deathless was returning home when his good +steed stumbled beneath him.</p> + +<p>“Why stumblest thou? scentest thou any ill?”</p> + +<p>“Prince Ivan has come and has carried off Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>Koshchei galloped off, caught Prince Ivan, chopped him into +little pieces, put them in a barrel, smeared it with pitch and +bound it with iron hoops, and flung it into the blue sea. But +Marya Morevna he carried off home.</p> + +<p>At that very time, the silver turned black which Prince Ivan +had left with his brothers-in-law.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” said they, “the evil is accomplished sure enough!”</p> + +<p>Then the Eagle hurried to the blue sea, caught hold of the +barrel, and dragged it ashore; the Falcon flew away for the +Water of Life, and the Raven for the Water of Death.</p> + +<p>Afterwards they all three met, broke open the barrel, took out +the remains of Prince Ivan, washed them, and put them together +in fitting order. The Raven sprinkled them with the Water of +Death—the pieces joined together, the body became whole. The +Falcon sprinkled it with the Water of Life—Prince Ivan shuddered, +stood up, and said:</p> + +<p>“Ah! what a time I’ve been sleeping!”</p> + +<p>“You’d have gone on sleeping a good deal longer, if it hadn’t +been for us,” replied his brothers-in-law. “Now come and pay +us a visit.”</p> + +<p>“Not so, brothers; I shall go and look for Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>And when he had found her, he said to her:</p> + +<p>“Find out from Koshchei the Deathless whence he got so +good a steed.”</p> + +<p>So Marya Morevna chose a favorable moment, and began +asking Koshchei about it. Koshchei replied:</p> + +<p>“Beyond thrice nine lands, in the thirtieth kingdom, on the +other side of the fiery river, there lives a Baba Yaga. She has +so good a mare that she flies right round the world on it every +day. And she has many other splendid mares. I watched her +herds for three days without losing a single mare, and in return +for that the Baba Yaga gave me a foal.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +“But how did you get across the fiery river?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I’ve a handkerchief of this kind—when I wave it +thrice on the right hand, there springs up a very lofty bridge and +the fire cannot reach it.”</p> + +<p>Marya Morevna listened to all this, and repeated it to Prince +Ivan, and she carried off the handkerchief and gave it to him. +So he managed to get across the fiery river, and then went on to +the Baba Yaga’s. Long went he on without getting anything +either to eat or to drink. At last he came across an outlandish<a name="FNanchor_103_103" id="FNanchor_103_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a> +bird and its young ones. Says Prince Ivan:</p> + +<p>“I’ll eat one of these chickens.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t eat it, Prince Ivan!” begs the outlandish bird; +“some time or other I’ll do you a good turn.”</p> + +<p>He went on farther and saw a hive of bees in the forest.</p> + +<p>“I’ll get a bit of honeycomb,” says he.</p> + +<p>“Don’t disturb my honey, Prince Ivan!” exclaims the queen +bee; “some time or other I’ll do you a good turn.”</p> + +<p>So he didn’t disturb it, but went on. Presently there <ins class="correction" title="me in original">met</ins> +him a lioness with her cub.</p> + +<p>“Anyhow I’ll eat this lion cub,” says he; “I’m so hungry, <ins class="correction" title="omitted in original">I</ins> +feel quite unwell!”</p> + +<p>“Please let us alone, Prince Ivan” begs the lioness; “some +time or other I’ll do you a good turn.”</p> + +<p>“Very well; have it your own way,” says he.</p> + +<p>Hungry and faint he wandered on, walked farther and farther +and at last came to where stood the house of the Baba Yaga. +Round the house were set twelve poles in a circle, and on each +of eleven of these poles was stuck a human head, the twelfth +alone remained unoccupied.</p> + +<p>“Hail, granny!”</p> + +<p>“Hail, Prince Ivan! wherefore have you come? Is it of your +own accord, or on compulsion?”</p> + +<p>“I have come to earn from you a heroic steed.”</p> + +<p>“So be it, Prince, you won’t have to serve a year with me, but +just three days. If you take good care of my mares, I’ll give you +a heroic steed. But if you don’t—why then you mustn’t be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +annoyed at finding your head stuck on top of the last pole up +there.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan agreed to these terms. The Baba Yaga gave +him food and drink, and bid him set about his business. But the +moment he had driven the mares afield, they cocked up their +tails, and away they tore across the meadows in all directions. +Before the Prince had time to look round, they were all out of +sight. Thereupon he began to weep and to disquiet himself, and +then he sat down upon a stone and went to sleep. But when the +sun was near its setting, the outlandish bird came flying up to him, +and awakened him saying:—</p> + +<p>“Arise, Prince Ivan! the mares are at home now.”</p> + +<p>The Prince arose and returned home. There the Baba Yaga +was storming and raging at her mares, and shrieking:—</p> + +<p>“Whatever did ye come home for?”</p> + +<p>“How could we help coming home?” said they. “There +came flying birds from every part of the world, and all but pecked +our eyes out.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! to-morrow don’t go galloping over the meadows, +but disperse amid the thick forests.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan slept all night. In the morning the Baba Yaga +says to him:—</p> + +<p>“Mind, Prince! if you don’t take good care of the mares, if +you lose merely one of them—your bold head will be stuck on +that pole!”</p> + +<p>He drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up their +tails and dispersed among the thick forests. Again did the +Prince sit down on the stone, weep and weep, and then go to +sleep. The sun went down behind the forest. Up came running +the lioness.</p> + +<p>“Arise, Prince Ivan! The mares are all collected.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan arose and went home. More than ever did the +Baba Yaga storm at her mares and shriek:—</p> + +<p>“Whatever did ye come back home for?”</p> + +<p>“How could we help coming back? Beasts of prey came +running at us from all parts of the world, all but tore us utterly +to pieces.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +“Well, to-morrow run off into the blue sea.”</p> + +<p>Again did Prince Ivan sleep through the night. Next morning +the Baba Yaga sent him forth to watch the mares:</p> + +<p>“If you don’t take good care of them,” says she, “your bold +head will be stuck on that pole!”</p> + +<p>He drove the mares afield. Immediately they cocked up +their tails, disappeared from sight, and fled into the blue sea. +There they stood, up to their necks in water. Prince Ivan sat +down on the stone, wept, and fell asleep. But when the sun had +set behind the forest, up came flying a bee and said:—</p> + +<p>“Arise, Prince! The mares are all collected. But when +you get home, don’t let the Baba Yaga set eyes on you, but go +into the stable and hide behind the mangers. There you will +find a sorry colt rolling in the muck. Do you steal it, and at +the dead of night ride away from the house.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan arose, slipped into the stable, and lay down behind +the mangers, while the Baba Yaga was storming away at +her mares and shrieking:—</p> + +<p>“Why did ye come back?”</p> + +<p>“How could we help coming back? There came flying bees +in countless numbers from all parts of the world, and began +stinging us on all sides till the blood came!”</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga went to sleep. In the dead of the night +Prince Ivan stole the sorry colt, saddled it, jumped on its back, +and galloped away to the fiery river. When he came to that river +he waved the handkerchief three times on the right hand, and +suddenly, springing goodness knows whence, there hung across +the river, high in the air, a splendid bridge. The Prince rode +across the bridge and waved the handkerchief twice only on the +left hand; there remained across the river a thin—ever so thin +a bridge!</p> + +<p>When the Baba Yaga got up in the morning, the sorry colt +was not to be seen! Off she set in pursuit. At full speed did +she fly in her iron mortar, urging it on with the pestle, sweeping +away her traces with the broom. She dashed up to the fiery +river, gave a glance, and said, “A capital bridge!” She drove +on to the bridge, but had only got half-way when the bridge +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +broke in two, and the Baba Yaga went flop into the river. There +truly did she meet with a cruel death!</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan fattened up the colt in the green meadows, and +it turned into a wondrous steed. Then he rode to where Marya +Morevna was. She came running out, and flung herself on his +neck, crying:—</p> + +<p>“By what means has God brought you back to life?”</p> + +<p>“Thus and thus,” says he. “Now come along with me.”</p> + +<p>“I am afraid, Prince Ivan! If Koshchei catches us, you will +be cut in pieces again.”</p> + +<p>“No, he won’t catch us! I have a splendid heroic steed now; +it flies just like a bird.” So they got on its back and rode +away.</p> + +<p>Koshchei the Deathless was returning home when his horse +stumbled beneath him.</p> + +<p>“What art thou stumbling for, sorry jade? dost thou scent +any ill?”</p> + +<p>“Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna.”</p> + +<p>“Can we catch them?”</p> + +<p>“God knows! Prince Ivan has a horse now which is better +than I.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I can’t stand it,” says Koshchei the Deathless. “I +will pursue.”</p> + +<p>After a time he came up with Prince Ivan, lighted on the +ground, and was going to chop him up with his sharp sword. +But at that moment Prince Ivan’s horse smote Koshchei the +Deathless full swing with its hoof, and cracked his skull, and the +Prince made an end of him with a club. Afterwards the Prince +heaped up a pile of wood, set fire to it, burnt Koshchei the +Deathless on the pyre, and scattered his ashes to the wind. +Then Marya Morevna mounted Koshchei’s horse and Prince Ivan +got on his own, and they rode away to visit first the Raven, and +then the Eagle, and then the Falcon. Wherever they went they +met with a joyful greeting.</p> + +<p>“Ah, Prince Ivan! why, we never expected to see you again. +Well, it wasn’t for nothing that you gave yourself so much trouble. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> +Such a beauty as Marya Morevna one might search for all the +world over—and never find one like her!”</p> + +<p>And so they visited, and they feasted; and afterwards they +went off to their own realm.<a name="FNanchor_104_104" id="FNanchor_104_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">With the Baba Yaga, the feminine counterpart of Koshchei +and the Snake, we shall deal presently, and the Waters +of Life and Death will find special notice elsewhere.<a name="FNanchor_105_105" id="FNanchor_105_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a> A +magic water, which brings back the dead to life, plays a +prominent part in the folk-lore of all lands, but the two +waters, each performing one part only of the cure, render +very noteworthy the Slavonic stories in which they occur. +The Princess, Marya Morevna, who slaughters whole armies +before she is married, and then becomes mild and gentle, +belongs to a class of heroines who frequently occur both +in the stories and in the “metrical romances,” and to whom +may be applied the remarks made by Kemble with reference +to a similar Amazon.<a name="FNanchor_106_106" id="FNanchor_106_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a> In one of the variants of the +story the representative of Marya Morevna fights the hero +before she marries him.<a name="FNanchor_107_107" id="FNanchor_107_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a> The Bluebeard incident of the +forbidden closet is one which often occurs in the Skazkas, +as we shall see further on; and the same may be said +about the gratitude of the Bird, Bee, and Lioness.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +The story of Immortal Koshchei is one of very frequent +occurrence, the different versions maintaining a unity of +idea, but varying considerably in detail. In one of them,<a name="FNanchor_108_108" id="FNanchor_108_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a> +in which Koshchei’s part is played by a Snake, the hero’s +sisters are carried off by their feathered admirers without +his leave being asked—an omission for which a full apology +is afterwards made; in another, the history of “Fedor +Tugarin and Anastasia the Fair,”<a name="FNanchor_109_109" id="FNanchor_109_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> the hero’s three sisters +are wooed and won, not by the Falcon, the Eagle, and the +Raven, but by the Wind, the Hail, and the Thunder. He +himself marries the terrible heroine Anastasia the Fair, in +the forbidden chamber of whose palace he finds a snake +“hung up by one of its ribs.” He gives it a lift and it +gets free from its hook and flies away, carrying off Anastasia +the Fair. Fedor eventually finds her, escapes with +her on a magic foal which he obtains, thanks to the aid of +grateful wolves, bees, and crayfish, and destroys the snake +by striking it “on the forehead” with the stone which was +destined to be its death. In a third version of the story,<a name="FNanchor_110_110" id="FNanchor_110_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a> +the hero finds in the forbidden chamber “Koshchei the +Deathless, in a cauldron amid flames, boiling in pitch.” +There he has been, he declares, for fifteen years, having +been lured there by the beauty of Anastasia the Fair. In +a fourth,<a name="FNanchor_111_111" id="FNanchor_111_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a> in which the hero’s three sisters marry three +beggars, who turn out to be snakes with twenty, thirty, and +forty heads apiece, Koshchei is found in the forbidden +chamber, seated on a horse which is chained to a cauldron. +He begs the hero to unloose the horse, promising, in return, +to save him from three deaths.</p> + +<div class="note"> +<p>[Into the mystery of the forbidden chamber I will not enter fully at present. +Suffice to say that there can be little doubt as to its being the same as that in which +Bluebeard kept the corpses of his dead wives. In the Russian, as well as in the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +Oriental stories, it is generally the curiosity of a man, not of a woman, which leads to +the opening of the prohibited room. In the West of Europe the fatal inquisitiveness +is more frequently ascribed to a woman. For parallels see the German stories of +“Marienkind,” and “Fitchers Vogel.” (Grimm, <i>KM.</i>, Nos. 3 and 46, also the +notes in Bd. iii. pp. 8, 76, 324.) Less familiar than these is, probably, the story of +“Die eisernen Stiefel” (Wolf’s “Deutsche Hausmärchen,” 1851, No. 19), in which +the hero opens a forbidden door—that of a summer-house—and sees “deep down +below him the earth, and on the earth his father’s palace,” and is seized by a sudden +longing after his former home. The Wallachian story of “The Immured Mother” +(Schott, No. 2) resembles Grimm’s “Marienkind” in many points. But its forbidden +chamber differs from that of the German tale. In the latter the rash intruder sees +“die Dreieinigkeit im Feuer und Glanz sitzen;” in the former, “the Holy Mother +of God healing the wounds of her Son, the Lord Christ.” In the Neapolitan story +of “Le tre Corune” (Pentamerone, No. 36), the forbidden chamber contains “three +maidens, clothed all in gold, sitting and seeming to slumber upon as many thrones” +(Liebrecht’s translation, ii. 76). The Esthonian tale of the “Wife-murderer” (Löwe’s +“Ehstnische Märchen,” No. 20) is remarkably—not to say suspiciously—like that +French story of Blue Beard which has so often made our young blood run cold. +Sister Anne is represented, and so are the rescuing brothers, the latter in the person +of the heroine’s old friend and playmate, Tönnis the goose-herd. Several very curious +Gaelic versions of the story are given by Mr. Campbell (“Tales of the West Highlands,” +No. 41, ii. 265-275). Two of the three daughters of a poor widow look into a +forbidden chamber, find it “full of dead gentlewomen,” get stained knee-deep in +blood, and refuse to give a drop of milk to a cat which offers its services. So their +heads are chopped off. The third daughter makes friends with the cat, which licks +off the tell-tale blood, so she escapes detection. In a Greek story (Hahn, ii. p. 197) +the hero discovers in the one-and-fortieth room of a castle belonging to a Drakos, +who had given him leave to enter forty only, a magic horse, and before the door of +the room he finds a pool of gold in which he becomes gilded. In another (Hahn, No. +15) a prince finds in the forbidden fortieth a lake in which <ins class="correction" title="faries in original">fairies</ins> of the swan-maiden +species are bathing. In a third (No. 45) the fortieth room contains a golden horse +and a golden dog which assist their bold releaser. In a fourth (No. 68) it imprisons +“a fair maiden, shining like the sun,” whom the demon proprietor of the castle has +hung up within it by her hair.</p> + +<p>As usual, all these stories are hard to understand. But one of the most important +of their Oriental equivalents is perfectly intelligible. When Saktideva, in the fifth +book of the “Kathásaritságara,” comes after long travel to the Golden City, and is +welcomed as her destined husband by its princess, she warns him not to ascend the +central terrace of her palace. Of course he does so, and finds three chambers, in +each of which lies the lifeless form of a fair maiden. After gazing at these seeming +corpses, in one of which he recognizes his first love, he approaches a horse which is +grazing beside a lake. The horse kicks him into the water; he sinks deep—and +comes up again in his native land. The whole of the story is, towards its termination, +fully explained by one of its principal characters—one of the four maidens whom +Saktideva simultaneously marries. With the version of this romance in the “Arabian +Nights” (“History of the Third Royal Mendicant,” Lane, i. 160-173), everyone is +doubtless acquainted. A less familiar story is that of Kandarpaketu, in the second +book of the “Hitopadesa,” who lives happily for a time as the husband of the beautiful +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +semi-divine queen of the Golden City. At last, contrary to her express commands, +he ventures to touch a picture of a Vidyádharí. In an instant the pictured demigoddess +gives him a kick which sends him flying back into his own country.</p> + +<p>For an explanation of the myth which lies at the root of all these stories, see Cox’s +“Mythology of the Aryan Nations,” ii. 36, 330. See also Professor de Gubernatis’s +“Zoological Mythology,” i. 168.]</p></div> + +<p>We will now take one of those versions of the story +which describe how Koshchei’s death is brought about by +the destruction of that extraneous object on which his +existence depends. The incident is one which occupies a +prominent place in the stories of this class current in all +parts of Europe and Asia, and its result is almost always +the same. But the means by which that result is brought +about differ considerably in different lands. In the Russian +tales the “death” of the Evil Being with whom the +hero contends—the substance, namely, the destruction of +which involves his death—is usually the last of a sequence +of objects either identical with, or closely resembling, those +mentioned in the following story of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Koshchei the Deathless.</span><a name="FNanchor_112_112" id="FNanchor_112_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain country there once lived a king, and he had three +sons, all of them grown up. All of a sudden Koshchei the +Deathless carried off their mother. Then the eldest son craved +his father’s blessing, that he might go and look for his mother. +His father gave him his blessing, and he went off and disappeared, +leaving no trace behind. The second son waited and waited, +then he too obtained his father’s blessing—and he also disappeared. +Then the youngest son, Prince Ivan, said to his father, +“Father, give me your blessing, and let me go and look for my +mother.”</p> + +<p>But his father would not let him go, saying, “Your brothers +are no more; if you likewise go away, I shall die of grief.”</p> + +<p>“Not so, father. But if you bless me I shall go; and if you +do not bless me I shall go.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +So his father gave him his blessing.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan went to choose a steed, but every one that he +laid his hand upon gave way under it. He could not find a steed +to suit him, so he wandered with drooping brow along the road +and about the town. Suddenly there appeared an old woman, +who asked:</p> + +<p>“Why hangs your brow so low, Prince Ivan?”</p> + +<p>“Be off, old crone,” he replied. “If I put you on one of my +hands, and give it a slap with the other, there’ll be a little wet +left, that’s all.”<a name="FNanchor_113_113" id="FNanchor_113_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a></p> + +<p>The old woman ran down a by-street, came to meet him a +second time, and said:</p> + +<p>“Good day, Prince Ivan! why hangs your brow so low?”</p> + +<p>Then he thought:</p> + +<p>“Why does this old woman ask me? Mightn’t she be of +use to me?”—and he replied:</p> + +<p>“Well, mother! because I cannot get myself a good steed.”</p> + +<p>“Silly fellow!” she cried, “to suffer, and not to ask the old +woman’s help! Come along with me.”</p> + +<p>She took him to a hill, showed him a certain spot, and said:</p> + +<p>“Dig up that piece of ground.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan dug it up and saw an iron plate with twelve padlocks +on it. He immediately broke off the padlocks, tore open +a door, and followed a path leading underground. There, +fastened with twelve chains, stood a heroic steed which evidently +heard the approaching steps of a rider worthy to mount it, and +so began to neigh and to struggle, until it broke all twelve of its +chains. Then Prince Ivan put on armor fit for a hero, and +bridled the horse, and saddled it with a Circassian saddle. And +he gave the old woman money, and said to her:</p> + +<p>“Forgive me, mother, and bless me!” then he mounted his +steed and rode away.</p> + +<p>Long time did he ride; at last he came to a mountain—a +tremendously high mountain, and so steep that it was utterly +impossible to get up it. Presently his brothers came that way. +They all greeted each other, and rode on together, till they came +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +to an iron rock<a name="FNanchor_114_114" id="FNanchor_114_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a> a hundred and fifty poods in weight, and on it +was this inscription, “Whosoever will fling this rock against +the mountain, to him will a way be opened.” The two elder +brothers were unable to lift the rock, but Prince Ivan at the +first try flung it against the mountain—and immediately there +appeared a ladder leading up the mountain side.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan dismounted, let some drops of blood run from +his little finger into a glass, gave it to his brothers, and said:</p> + +<p>“If the blood in this glass turns black, tarry here no longer: +that will mean that I am about to die.” Then he took leave of +them and went his way.</p> + +<p>He mounted the hill. What did not he see there? All +sorts of trees were there, all sorts of fruits, all sorts of birds! +Long did Prince Ivan walk on; at last he came to a house, a +huge house! In it lived a king’s daughter who had been carried +off by Koshchei the Deathless. Prince Ivan walked round the +enclosure, but could not see any doors. The king’s daughter +saw there was some one there, came on to the balcony, and +called out to him, “See, there is a chink in the enclosure; touch +it with your little finger, and it will become a door.”</p> + +<p>What she said turned out to be true. Prince Ivan went into +the house, and the maiden received him kindly, gave him to eat +and to drink, and then began to question him. He told her how +he had come to rescue his mother from Koshchei the Deathless. +Then the maiden said:</p> + +<p>“It will be difficult for you to get at your mother, Prince +Ivan. You see, Koshchei is not mortal: he will kill you. He +often comes here to see me. There is his sword, fifty poods in +weight. Can you lift it? If so, you may venture to go.”</p> + +<p>Not only did Prince Ivan lift the sword, but he tossed it +high in the air. So he went on his way again.</p> + +<p>By-and-by he came to a second house. He knew now where +to look for the door, and he entered in. There was his mother. +With tears did they embrace each other.</p> + +<p>Here also did he try his strength, heaving aloft a ball which +weighed some fifteen hundred poods. The time came for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +Koshchei the Deathless to arrive. The mother hid away her +son. Suddenly Koshchei the Deathless entered the house and +cried out, “Phou, Phou! A Russian bone<a name="FNanchor_115_115" id="FNanchor_115_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> one usen’t to hear +with one’s ears, or see with one’s eyes, but now a Russian bone +has come to the house! Who has been with you? Wasn’t it +your son?”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about, God bless you! You’ve been +flying through Russia, and got the air up your nostrils, that’s +why you fancy it’s here,” answered Prince Ivan’s mother, and +then she drew nigh to Koshchei, addressed him in terms of +affection, asked him about one thing and another, and at last +said:</p> + +<p>“Whereabouts is your death, O Koshchei?”</p> + +<p>“My death,” he replied, “is in such a place. There stands +an oak, and under the oak is a casket, and in the casket is a +hare, and in the hare is a duck, and in the duck is an egg, and +in the egg is my death.”</p> + +<p>Having thus spoken, Koshchei the Deathless tarried there a +little longer, and then flew away.</p> + +<p>The time came—Prince Ivan received his mother’s blessing, +and went to look for Koshchei’s death. He went on his way a +long time without eating or drinking; at last he felt mortally +hungry, and thought, “If only something would come my way!” +Suddenly there appeared a young wolf; he determined to kill +it. But out from a hole sprang the she wolf, and said, “Don’t +hurt my little one; I’ll do you a good turn.” Very good! Prince +Ivan let the young wolf go. On he went and saw a crow. +“Stop a bit,” he thought, “here I shall get a mouthful.” He +loaded his gun and was going to shoot, but the crow exclaimed, +“Don’t hurt me; I’ll do you a good turn.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan thought the matter over and spared the crow. +Then he went farther, and came to a sea and stood still on the +shore. At that moment a young pike suddenly jumped out of +the water and fell on the strand. He caught hold of it, and +thought—for he was half dead with hunger—“Now I shall have +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +something to eat.” All of a sudden appeared a pike and said, +“Don’t hurt my little one, Prince Ivan; I’ll do you a good turn.” +And so he spared the little pike also.</p> + +<p>But how was he to cross the sea? He sat down on the shore +and meditated. But the pike knew quite well what he was +thinking about, and laid herself right across the sea. Prince +Ivan walked along her back, as if he were going over a bridge, +and came to the oak where Koshchei’s death was. There he +found the casket and opened it—out jumped the hare and ran +away. How was the hare to be stopped?</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan was terribly frightened at having let the hare +escape, and gave himself up to gloomy thoughts; but a wolf, +the one he had refrained from killing, rushed after the hare, +caught it, and brought it to Prince Ivan. With great delight +he seized the hare, cut it open—and had such a fright! Out +popped the duck and flew away. He fired after it, but shot +all on one side, so again he gave himself up to his thoughts. +Suddenly there appeared the crow with her little crows, and set +off after the duck, and caught it, and brought it to Prince Ivan. +The Prince was greatly pleased and got hold of the egg. Then +he went on his way. But when he came to the sea, he began +washing the egg, and let it drop into the water. However was +he to get it out of the water? an immeasurable depth! Again +the Prince gave himself up to dejection.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the sea became violently agitated, and the pike +brought him the egg. Moreover it stretched itself across the +sea. Prince Ivan walked along it to the other side, and then +he set out again for his mother’s. When he got there, they +greeted each other lovingly, and then she hid him again as before. +Presently in flew Koshchei the Deathless and said:</p> + +<p>“Phoo, Phoo! No Russian bone can the ear hear nor the +eye see, but there’s a smell of Russia here!”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about, Koshchei? There’s no one +with me,” replied Prince Ivan’s mother.</p> + +<p>A second time spake Koshchei and said, “I feel rather unwell.”</p> + +<p>Then Prince Ivan began squeezing the egg, and thereupon +Koshchei the Deathless bent double. At last Prince Ivan came +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +out from his hiding-place, held up the egg and said, “There is +your death, O Koshchei the Deathless!”</p> + +<p>Then Koshchei fell on his knees before him, saying, “Don’t +kill me, Prince Ivan! Let’s be friends! All the world will lie +at our feet.”</p> + +<p>But these words had no weight with Prince Ivan. He +smashed the egg, and Koshchei the Deathless died.</p> + +<p>Ivan and his mother took all they wanted and started homewards. +On their way they came to where the King’s daughter +was whom Ivan had seen on his way, and they took her with +them too. They went further, and came to the hill where Ivan’s +brothers were still waiting for him. Then the maiden said, +“Prince Ivan! do go back to my house. I have forgotten a +marriage robe, a diamond ring, and a pair of seamless shoes.”</p> + +<p>He consented to do so, but in the mean time he let his mother +go down the ladder, as well as the Princess—whom it had been +settled he was to marry when they got home. They were received +by his brothers, who then set to work and cut away the ladder, +so that he himself would not be able to get down. And they +used such threats to his mother and the Princess, that they +made them promise not to tell about Prince Ivan when they +got home. And after a time they reached their native country. +Their father was delighted at seeing his wife and his two sons, +but still he was grieved about the other one, Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>But Prince Ivan returned to the home of his betrothed, and +got the wedding dress, and the ring, and the seamless shoes. +Then he came back to the mountain and tossed the ring from +one hand to the other. Immediately there appeared twelve +strong youths, who said:</p> + +<p>“What are your commands?”</p> + +<p>“Carry me down from this hill.”</p> + +<p>The youths immediately carried him down. Prince Ivan put +the ring on his finger—they disappeared.</p> + +<p>Then he went on to his own country, and arrived at the city +in which his father and brothers lived.</p> + +<p>There he took up his quarters in the house of an old woman, +and asked her:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +“What news is there, mother, in your country?”</p> + +<p>“What news, lad? You see our queen was kept in prison +by Koshchei the Deathless. Her three sons went to look for +her, and two of them found her and came back, but the third, +Prince Ivan, has disappeared, and no one knows where he is. +The King is very unhappy about him. And those two Princes +and their mother brought a certain Princess back with them; +and the eldest son wants to marry her, but she declares he must +fetch her her betrothal ring first, or get one made just as she +wants it. But although they have made a public proclamation +about it, no one has been found to do it yet.”</p> + +<p>“Well, mother, go and tell the King that you will make one. +I’ll manage it for you,” said Prince Ivan.</p> + +<p>So the old woman immediately dressed herself, and hastened +to the King, and said:</p> + +<p>“Please, your Majesty, I will make the wedding ring.”</p> + +<p>“Make it, then, make it, mother! Such people as you are +welcome,” said the king. “But if you don’t make it, off goes +your head!”</p> + +<p>The old woman was dreadfully frightened; she ran home, +and told Prince Ivan to set to work at the ring. But Ivan lay +down to sleep, troubling himself very little about it. The ring +was there all the time. So he only laughed at the old woman, +but she was trembling all over, and crying, and scolding him.</p> + +<p>“As for you,” she said, “you’re out of the scrape; but you’ve +done for me, fool that I was!”</p> + +<p>The old woman cried and cried until she fell asleep. Early in +the morning Prince Ivan got up and awakened her, saying:</p> + +<p>“Get up, mother, and go out! take them the ring, and mind, +don’t accept more than one ducat for it. If anyone asks who +made the ring, say you made it yourself; don’t say a word about +me.”</p> + +<p>The old woman was overjoyed and carried off the ring. The +bride was delighted with it.</p> + +<p>“Just what I wanted,” she said. So they gave the old woman +a dish full of gold, but she took only one ducat.</p> + +<p>“Why do you take so little?” said the king.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> +“What good would a lot do me, your Majesty? if I want some +more afterwards, you’ll give it me.”</p> + +<p>Having said this the old woman went away.</p> + +<p>Time passed, and the news spread abroad that the bride had +told her lover to fetch her her wedding-dress or else to get one +made, just such a one as she wanted. Well, the old woman, +thanks to Prince Ivan’s aid, succeeded in this matter too, and +took her the wedding-dress. And afterwards she took her the +seamless shoes also, and would only accept one ducat each time +and always said that she had made the things herself.</p> + +<p>Well, the people heard that there would be a wedding at the +palace on such-and-such a day. And the day they all anxiously +awaited came at last. Then Prince Ivan said to the old woman:</p> + +<p>“Look here, mother! when the bride is just going to be +married, let me know.”</p> + +<p>The old woman didn’t let the time go by unheeded.</p> + +<p>Then Ivan immediately put on his princely raiment, and went +out of the house.</p> + +<p>“See, mother, this is what I’m really like!” says he.</p> + +<p>The old woman fell at his feet.</p> + +<p>“Pray forgive me for scolding you,” said she.</p> + +<p>“God be with you,” said he.<a name="FNanchor_116_116" id="FNanchor_116_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a></p> + +<p>So he went into the church and, finding his brothers had not +yet arrived, he stood up alongside of the bride and got married +to her. Then he and she were escorted back to the palace, and +as they went along, the proper bridegroom, his eldest brother, +met them. But when he saw that his bride and Prince Ivan were +being escorted home together, he turned back again ignominiously.</p> + +<p>As to the king, he was delighted to see Prince Ivan again, +and when he had learnt all about the treachery of his brothers, +after the wedding feast had been solemnized, he banished the +two elder princes, but he made Ivan heir to the throne.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> +In the story of “Prince Arikad,”<a name="FNanchor_117_117" id="FNanchor_117_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a> the Queen-Mother is +carried off by the Whirlwind,<a name="FNanchor_118_118" id="FNanchor_118_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a> instead of by Koshchei. +Her youngest son climbs the hill by the aid of iron hooks, +kills Vikhor, and lowers his mother and three other ladies +whom he has rescued, by means of a rope made of strips +of hide. This his brothers cut to prevent him from descending.<a name="FNanchor_119_119" id="FNanchor_119_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a> +They then oblige the ladies to swear not to +betray them, the taking of the oath being accompanied by +the eating of earth.<a name="FNanchor_120_120" id="FNanchor_120_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a> The same formality is observed in +another story in which an oath of a like kind is exacted.<a name="FNanchor_121_121" id="FNanchor_121_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a></p> + +<p>The sacred nature of such an obligation may account for +the singular reticence so often maintained, under similar +circumstances, in stories of this class.</p> + +<p>In one of the descriptions of Koshchei’s death, he is said +to be killed by a blow on the forehead inflicted by the mysterious +egg—that last link in the magic chain by which +his life is darkly bound.<a name="FNanchor_122_122" id="FNanchor_122_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a> In another version of the same +story, but told of a Snake, the fatal blow is struck by a +small stone found in the yolk of an egg, which is inside a +duck, which is inside a hare, which is inside a stone, +which is on an island [<i>i.e.</i>, the fabulous island Buyan].<a name="FNanchor_123_123" id="FNanchor_123_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a> +In another variant<a name="FNanchor_124_124" id="FNanchor_124_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a> Koshchei attempts to deceive his fair +captive, pretending that his “death” resides in a besom, or +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> +in a fence, both of which she adorns with gold in token of +her love. Then he confesses that his “death” really lies in +an egg, inside a duck, inside a log which is floating on the +sea. Prince Ivan gets hold of the egg and shifts it from +one hand to the other. Koshchei rushes wildly from side +to side of the room. At last the prince breaks the egg. +Koshchei falls on the floor and dies.</p> + +<p>This heart-breaking episode occurs in the folk-tales of +many lands.<a name="FNanchor_125_125" id="FNanchor_125_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a> It may not be amiss to trace it through some +of its forms. In a Norse story<a name="FNanchor_126_126" id="FNanchor_126_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a> a Giant’s heart lies in an +egg, inside a duck, which swims in a well, in a church, on +an island. With this may be compared another Norse +tale,<a name="FNanchor_127_127" id="FNanchor_127_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a> in which a <i>Haugebasse</i>, or Troll, who has carried off +a princess, informs her that he and all his companions will +burst asunder when above them passes “the grain of sand +that lies under the ninth tongue in the ninth head” of a +certain dead dragon. The grain of sand is found and +brought, and the result is that the whole of the monstrous +brood of Trolls or <i>Haugebasser</i> is instantaneously destroyed. +In a Transylvanian-Saxon story<a name="FNanchor_128_128" id="FNanchor_128_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a> a Witch’s “life” is a +light which burns in an egg, inside a duck, which swims +on a pond, inside a mountain, and she dies when it is put +out. In the Bohemian story of “The Sun-horse”<a name="FNanchor_129_129" id="FNanchor_129_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> a Warlock’s +“strength” lies in an egg, which is within a duck, +which is within a stag, which is under a tree. A Seer finds +the egg and sucks it. Then the Warlock becomes as weak as +a child, “for all his strength had passed into the Seer.” In +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> +the Gaelic story of “The Sea-Maiden,”<a name="FNanchor_130_130" id="FNanchor_130_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a> the “great beast +with three heads” which haunts the loch cannot be killed +until an egg is broken, which is in the mouth of a trout, +which springs out of a crow, which flies out of a hind, +which lives on an island in the middle of the loch. In a +Modern Greek tale the life of a dragon or other baleful +being comes to an end simultaneously with the lives of +three pigeons which are shut up in an all but inaccessible +chamber,<a name="FNanchor_131_131" id="FNanchor_131_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a> or inclosed within a wild boar.<a name="FNanchor_132_132" id="FNanchor_132_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a> Closely connected +with the Greek tale is the Servian story of the +dragon<a name="FNanchor_133_133" id="FNanchor_133_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a> whose “strength” (<i>snaga</i>) lies in a sparrow, which +is inside a dove, inside a hare, inside a boar, inside a dragon +(<i>ajdaya</i>) which is in a lake, near a royal city. The hero of +the story fights the dragon of the lake, and after a long +struggle, being invigorated at the critical moment by a kiss +which the heroine imprints on his forehead—he flings it +high in the air. When it falls to the ground it breaks in +pieces, and out comes the boar. Eventually the hero +seizes the sparrow and wrings its neck, but not before he +has obtained from it the charm necessary for the recovery +of his missing brothers and a number of other victims of +the dragon’s cruelty.</p> + +<p>To these European tales a very interesting parallel is +afforded by the Indian story of “Punchkin,”<a name="FNanchor_134_134" id="FNanchor_134_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a> whose life +depends on that of a parrot, which is in a cage placed +beneath the lowest of six jars of water, piled one on the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +other, and standing in the midst of a desolate country covered +with thick jungle. When the parrot’s legs and wings are +pulled off, Punchkin loses his legs and arms; and when its +neck is wrung, his head twists round and he dies.</p> + +<p>One of the strangest of the stories which turn on this +idea of an external heart is the Samoyed tale,<a name="FNanchor_135_135" id="FNanchor_135_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a> in which +seven brothers are in the habit, every night, of taking out +their hearts and sleeping without them. A captive damsel +whose mother they have killed, receives the extracted hearts +and hangs them on the tent-pole, where they remain till the +following morning. One night her brother contrives to get +the hearts into his possession. Next morning he takes +them into the tent, where he finds the brothers at the point +of death. In vain do they beg for their hearts, which he +flings on the floor. “And as he flings down the hearts the +brothers die.”</p> + +<p>The legend to which I am now about to refer will serve +as a proof of the venerable antiquity of the myth from +which the folk-tales, which have just been quoted, appear +to have sprung. A papyrus, which is supposed to be “of +the age of the nineteenth dynasty, about <span class="smcap lowercase">B.C.</span> 1300,” has +preserved an Egyptian tale about two brothers. The +younger of these, Satou, leaves the elder, Anepou (Anubis) +and retires to the Valley of the Acacia. But, before setting +off, Satou states that he shall take his heart and place it +“in the flowers of the acacia-tree,” so that, if the tree is cut +down, his heart will fall to the ground and he will die. +Having given Anepou instructions what to do in such a +case, he seeks the valley. There he hunts wild animals by +day, and at night he sleeps under the acacia-tree on which +his heart rests. But at length Noum, the Creator, forms a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +wife for him, and all the other gods endow her with gifts. +To this Egyptian Pandora Satou confides the secret of his +heart. One day a tress of her perfumed hair floats down +the river, and is taken to the King of Egypt. He determines +to make its owner his queen, and she, like Rhodope or Cinderella, +is sought for far and wide. When she has been +found and brought to the king, she recommends him to +have the acacia cut down, so as to get rid of her lawful +husband. Accordingly the tree is cut down, the heart falls, +and Satou dies.</p> + +<p>About this time Anepou sets out to pay his long-lost +brother a visit. Finding him dead, he searches for his heart, +but searches in vain for three years. In the fourth year, +however, it suddenly becomes desirous of returning to +Egypt, and says, “I will leave this celestial sphere.” Next +day Anepou finds it under the acacia, and places it in a +vase which contains some mystic fluid. When the heart has +become saturated with the moisture, the corpse shudders +and opens its eyes. Anepou pours the rest of the fluid +down its throat, the heart returns to its proper place, and +Satou is restored to life.<a name="FNanchor_136_136" id="FNanchor_136_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the Skazkas, a <i>volshebnitsa</i> or enchantress is +introduced, whose “death,” like that of Koshchei, is spoken +of as something definite and localized. A prince has loved +and lost a princess, who is so beautiful that no man can +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> +look at her without fainting. Going in search of her, he +comes to the home of an enchantress, who invites him to +tea and gives him leave to inspect her house. As he wanders +about he comes to a cellar in which “he sees that +beautiful one whom he loves, in fire.” She tells him +her love for him has brought her there; and he learns that +there is no hope of freeing her unless he can find out +“where lies the death of the enchantress.” So that evening +he asks his hostess about it, and she replies:</p> + +<p>“In a certain lake stands a blue rose-tree. It is in a +deep place, and no man can reach unto it. My death is +there.”</p> + +<p>He sets out in search of it, and, aided by a magic ring, +reaches the lake, “and sees there the blue rose-tree, and +around it a blue forest.” After several failures, he succeeds +in plucking up the rose-tree by the roots, whereupon the +enchantress straightway sickens. He returns to her house, +finds her at the point of death, and throws the rose-bush +into the cellar where his love is crying, “Behold her death!” +and immediately the whole building shakes to its foundations—“and +becomes an island, on which are people who +had been sitting in Hell, and who offer up thanks to Prince +Ivan.”<a name="FNanchor_137_137" id="FNanchor_137_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a></p> + +<p>In another Russian story,<a name="FNanchor_138_138" id="FNanchor_138_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a> a prince is grievously tormented +by a witch who has got hold of his heart, and +keeps it perpetually seething in a magic cauldron. In a +third,<a name="FNanchor_139_139" id="FNanchor_139_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a> a “Queen-Maiden” falls in love with the young Ivan, +and, after being betrothed to him, would fain take him +away to her own land and marry him. But his stepmother +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> +throws him into a magic slumber, and the Queen-Maiden has +to return home without him. When he awakes, and learns +that she has gone, he sorrows greatly, and sets out in search +of her. At last he learns from a friendly witch that his +betrothed no longer cares for him, “her love is hidden far +away.” It seems “that on the other side of the ocean stands +an oak, and on the oak a coffer, and in the coffer a hare, +and in the hare a duck, and in the duck an egg, and in the +egg the love of the Queen-Maiden.” Ivan gets possession +of the egg, and the friendly witch contrives to have it placed +before the Queen-Maiden at dinner. She eats it, and immediately +her love for Ivan returns in all its pristine force. +He appears, and she, overjoyed, carries him off to her own +land and there marries him.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>After this digression we will now return to our Snakes. +All the monstrous forms which figure in the stories we have +just been considering appear to be merely different species +of the great serpent family. Such names as Koshchei, +Chudo Yudo, Usuinya, and the like, seem to admit of exchange +at the will of the story-teller with that of Zméï Goruinuich, +the many-headed Snake, who in Russian storyland +is represented as the type of all that is evil. But in the actual +Russia of to-day, snakes bear by no means so bad a +character. Their presence in a cottage is considered a good +omen by the peasants, who leave out milk for them to +drink, and who think that to kill such visitors would be a +terrible sin.<a name="FNanchor_140_140" id="FNanchor_140_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a> This is probably a result of some remembrance +of a religious cultus paid to the household gods +under the form of snakes, such as existed of old, according +to Kromer, in Poland and Lithuania. The following story +is more in keeping with such ideas as these, than with +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> +those which are expressed in the tales about Koshchei and +his kin.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Water Snake.</span><a name="FNanchor_141_141" id="FNanchor_141_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was once an old woman who had a daughter; and her +daughter went down to the pond one day to bathe with the +other girls. They all stripped off their shifts, and went into the +water. Then there came a snake out of the water, and glided on +to the daughter’s shift. After a time the girls all came out, and +began to put on their shifts, and the old woman’s daughter wanted +to put on hers, but there was the snake lying on it. She tried +to drive him away, but there he stuck and would not move. Then +the snake said:</p> + +<p>“If you’ll marry me, I’ll give you back your shift.”</p> + +<p>Now she wasn’t at all inclined to marry him, but the other +girls said:</p> + +<p>“As if it were possible for you to be married to him! Say +you will!” So she said, “Very well, I will.” Then the snake +glided off from the shift, and went straight into the water. The +girl dressed and went home. And as soon as she got there, +she said to her mother,</p> + +<p>“Mammie, mammie, thus and thus, a snake got upon my +shift, and says he, ‘Marry me or I won’t let you have your shift;’ +and I said, ‘I will.’”</p> + +<p>“What nonsense are you talking, you little fool! as if one +could marry a snake!”</p> + +<p>And so they remained just as they were, and forgot all about +the matter.</p> + +<p>A week passed by, and one day they saw ever so many snakes, +a huge troop of them, wriggling up to their cottage. “Ah, +mammie, save me, save me!” cried the girl, and her mother +slammed the door and barred the entrance as quickly as possible. +The snakes would have rushed in at the door, but the door was +shut; they would have rushed into the passage, but the passage +was closed. Then in a moment they rolled themselves <ins class="correction" title="nto in original">into</ins> a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +ball, flung themselves at the window, smashed it to pieces, and +glided in a body into the room. The girl got upon the stove, but +they followed her, pulled her down, and bore her out of the room +and out of doors. Her mother accompanied her, crying like +anything.</p> + +<p>They took the girl down to the pond, and dived right into the +water with her. And there they all turned into men and women. +The mother remained for some time on the dike, wailed a little, +and then went home.</p> + +<p>Three years went by. The girl lived down there, and had +two children, a son and a daughter. Now she often entreated +her husband to let her go to see her mother. So at last one day +he took her up to the surface of the water, and brought her +ashore. But she asked him before leaving him,</p> + +<p>“What am I to call out when I want you?”</p> + +<p>“Call out to me, ‘Osip, [Joseph] Osip, come here!’ and I +will come,” he replied.</p> + +<p>Then he dived under water again, and she went to her +mother’s, carrying her little girl on one arm, and leading her boy +by the hand. Out came her mother to meet her—was so +delighted to see her!</p> + +<p>“Good day, mother!” said the daughter.</p> + +<p>“Have you been doing well while you were living down +there?” asked her mother.</p> + +<p>“Very well indeed, mother. My life there is better than +yours here.”</p> + +<p>They sat down for a bit and chatted. Her mother got +dinner ready for her, and she dined.</p> + +<p>“What’s your husband’s name?” asked her mother.</p> + +<p>“Osip,” she replied.</p> + +<p>“And how are you to get home?”</p> + +<p>“I shall go to the dike, and call out, ‘Osip, Osip, come +here!’ and he’ll come.”</p> + +<p>“Lie down, daughter, and rest a bit,” said the mother.</p> + +<p>So the daughter lay down and went to sleep. The mother +immediately took an axe and sharpened it, and went down to the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +dike with it. And when she came to the dike, she began calling +out,</p> + +<p>“Osip, Osip, come here!”</p> + +<p>No sooner had Osip shown his head than the old woman +lifted her axe and chopped it off. And the water in the pond +became dark with blood.</p> + +<p>The old woman went home. And when she got home her +daughter awoke.</p> + +<p>“Ah! mother,” says she, “I’m getting tired of being here; I’ll +go home.”</p> + +<p>“Do sleep here to-night, daughter; perhaps you won’t have +another chance of being with me.”</p> + +<p>So the daughter stayed and spent the night there. In the +morning she got up and her mother got breakfast ready for her; +she breakfasted, and then she said good-bye to her mother and +went away, carrying her little girl in her arms, while her boy +followed behind her. She came to the dike, and called out:</p> + +<p>“Osip, Osip, come here!”</p> + +<p>She called and called, but he did not come.</p> + +<p>Then she looked into the water, and there she saw a head +floating about. Then she guessed what had happened.</p> + +<p>“Alas! my mother has killed him!” she cried.</p> + +<p>There on the bank she wept and wailed. And then to her +girl she cried:</p> + +<p>“Fly about as a wren, henceforth and evermore!”</p> + +<p>And to her boy she cried:</p> + +<p>“Fly about as a nightingale, my boy, henceforth and evermore!”</p> + +<p>“But I,” she said, “will fly about as a cuckoo, crying +‘Cuckoo!’ henceforth and evermore!”</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[Stories about serpent-spouses are by no means uncommon, but I can find no parallel +to the above so far as the termination is concerned. Benfey quotes or refers to a +great number of the transformation tales in which a husband or a wife appears at +times in the form of a snake (Panchatantra, i. pp. 254-7 266-7). Sometimes, when +a husband of this kind has doffed his serpent’s skin, his wife seizes it, and throws it +into the fire. Her act generally proves to be to her advantage, as well as to his, but +not always. On a story of this kind was doubtless founded the legend handed down +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +to us by Appuleius of Cupid and Psyche. Among its wildest versions are the Albanian +“Schlangenkind” (Hahn, No. 100), a very similar Roumanian tale (Ausland +1857, No. 43, quoted by Benfey), the Wallachian Trandafíru (Schott, No. 23, in +which the husband is a pumpkin (<i>Kürbiss</i>) by day), and the second of the Servian +tales of the Snake-Husband (Vuk Karajich, No. 10).]</p></div> + +<p>The snakes which figure in this weird story, the termination +of which is so unusually tragic, bear a strong resemblance +to the Indian Nágas, the inhabitants of Patala or the +underground world, serpents which take at will the human +shape and often mix with mortals. They may, also, be +related to the mermen and mermaids of the sea-coasts, and +to the similar beings with which, under various names, +tradition peoples the lakes, and streams, and fountains of +Europe. The South-Russian peasantry have from immemorial +times maintained a firm belief in the existence of +water-nymphs, called Rusalkas, closely resembling the +Nereids of Modern Greece, the female Nixies of the North +of Europe, and throughout the whole of Russia, at least in +outlying districts, there still lingers a sort of cultus of certain +male water-sprites who bear the name of Vodyanies, +and who are almost identical with the beings who haunt +the waters of various countries—such as the German <i>Nix</i>, +the Swedish <i>Nek</i>, the Finnish <i>Näkke</i>, etc.<a name="FNanchor_142_142" id="FNanchor_142_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a></p> + +<p>In the Skazkas we find frequent mention of beauteous +maidens who usually live beneath the wave, but who can +transform themselves into birds and fly wherever they +please. We may perhaps be allowed to designate them +by the well-known name of Swan-Maidens, though they do +not always assume, together with their plumage-robes, the +form of swans, but sometimes appear as geese, ducks, +spoonbills, or aquatic birds of some other species. They +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +are, for the most part, the daughters of the Morskoi Tsar, +or Water King—a being who plays an important part in +Slavonic popular fiction. He is of a somewhat shadowy +form, and his functions are not very clearly defined, for the +part he usually fills is sometimes allotted to Koshchei or +to the Snake, but the stories generally represent him as a +patriarchal monarch, living in subaqueous halls of light and +splendor, whence he emerges at times to seize a human +victim. It is generally a boy whom he gets into his power, +and who eventually obtains the hand of one of his daughters, +and escapes with her to the upper world, though not +without considerable difficulty. Such are, for instance, the +leading incidents in the following skazka, many features of +which closely resemble those of various well-known West-European +folk-tales.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Water King and Vasilissa the Wise.</span><a name="FNanchor_143_143" id="FNanchor_143_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there lived a King and Queen, and the King +was very fond of hunting and shooting. Well one day he went +out hunting, and he saw an Eaglet sitting on an oak. But just +as he was going to shoot at it the Eaglet began to entreat him, +crying:—</p> + +<p>“Don’t shoot me, my lord King! better take me home with +you; some time or other I shall be of service to you.”</p> + +<p>The King reflected awhile and said, “How can you be of use +to me?” and again he was going to shoot.</p> + +<p>Then the Eaglet said to him a second time:—</p> + +<p>“Don’t shoot me, my lord King! better take me home with +you; some time or other I shall be of use to you.”</p> + +<p>The King thought and thought, but couldn’t imagine a bit the +more what use the Eaglet could be to him, and so he determined +to shoot it. Then a third time the Eaglet exclaimed:—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +“Don’t shoot me, my lord King! better take me home with +you and feed me for three years. Some time or other I shall be +of service to you!”</p> + +<p>The King relented, took the Eaglet home with him, and fed +it for a year, for two years. But it ate so much that it devoured +all his cattle. The King had neither a cow nor a sheep left. At +length the Eagle said:—</p> + +<p>“Now let me go free!”</p> + +<p>The King set it at liberty; the Eagle began trying its wings. +But no, it could not fly yet! So it said:—</p> + +<p>“Well, my lord King! you have fed me two years; now, +whether you like it or no, feed me for one year more. Even if +you have to borrow, at all events feed me; you won’t lose by it!”</p> + +<p>Well, this is what the King did. He borrowed cattle from +everywhere round about, and he fed the Eagle for the space of a +whole year, and afterwards he set it at liberty. The Eagle rose +ever so high, flew and flew, then dropt down again to the earth +and said:—</p> + +<p>“Now then, my lord King! Take a seat on my back! we’ll +have a fly together?”</p> + +<p>The King got on the Eagle’s back. Away they went flying. +Before very long they reached the blue sea. Then the Eagle +shook off the King, who fell into the sea, and sank up to his +knees. But the Eagle didn’t let him drown! it jerked him on to +its wing, and asked:—</p> + +<p>“How now, my lord King! were you frightened, perchance?”</p> + +<p>“I was,” said the King; “I thought I was going to be drowned +outright!”</p> + +<p>Again they flew and flew till they reached another sea. The +Eagle shook off the King right in the middle of the sea; the King +sank up to his girdle. The Eagle jerked him on to its wing +again, and asked:—</p> + +<p>“Well, my lord King, were you frightened, perchance?”</p> + +<p>“I was,” he replied, “but all the time I thought, ‘Perhaps, +please God, the creature will pull me out.’”</p> + +<p>Away they flew again, flew, and arrived at a third sea. The +Eagle dropped the King into a great gulf, so that he sank right +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> +up to his neck. And the third time the Eagle jerked him on to +its wing, and asked:—</p> + +<p>“Well, my lord King! Were you frightened, perchance?”</p> + +<p>“I was,” says the King, “but still I said to myself, ‘Perhaps +it will pull me out.’”</p> + +<p>“Well, my lord King! now you have felt what the fear of +death is like! What I have done was in payment of an old score. +Do you remember my sitting on an oak, and your wanting to +shoot me? Three times you were going to let fly, but I kept on +entreating you not to shoot, saying to myself all the time, ‘Perhaps +he won’t kill me; perhaps he’ll relent and take me home +with him!’”</p> + +<p>Afterwards they flew beyond thrice nine lands: long, long +did they fly. Says the Eagle, “Look, my lord King! what is +above us and what below us?”</p> + +<p>The King looked.</p> + +<p>“Above us,” he says, “is the sky, below us the earth.”</p> + +<p>“Look again; what is on the right hand and on the left?”</p> + +<p>“On the right hand is an open plain, on the left stands a +house.”</p> + +<p>“We will fly thither,” said the Eagle; “my youngest sister +lives there.”</p> + +<p>They went straight into the courtyard. The sister came out +to meet them, received her brother cordially, and seated him at +the oaken table. But on the King she would not so much as +look, but left him outside, loosed greyhounds, and set them at +him. The Eagle was exceedingly wroth, jumped up from table, +seized the King, and flew away with him again.</p> + +<p>Well, they flew and flew. Presently the Eagle said to the +King, “Look round; what is behind us?”</p> + +<p>The King turned his head, looked, and said, “Behind us is a +red house.”</p> + +<p>“That is the house of my youngest sister—on fire, because +she did not receive you, but set greyhounds at you.”</p> + +<p>They flew and flew. Again the Eagle asked:</p> + +<p>“Look again, my lord King; what is above us, and what +below us?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +“Above us is the sky, below us the earth.”</p> + +<p>“Look and see what is on the right hand and on the left.”</p> + +<p>“On the right is the open plain, on the left there stands a +house.”</p> + +<p>“There lives my second sister; we’ll go and pay her a visit.”</p> + +<p>They stopped in a wide courtyard. The second sister received +her brother cordially, and seated him at the oaken table; but the +King was left outside, and she loosed greyhounds, and set them +at him. The Eagle flew into a rage, jumped up from table, +caught up the King, and flew away farther with him. They flew +and flew. Says the Eagle:</p> + +<p>“My lord King! look round! what is behind us?”</p> + +<p>The King looked back.</p> + +<p>“There stands behind us a red house.”</p> + +<p>“That’s my second sister’s house burning!” said the Eagle. +“Now we’ll fly to where my mother and my eldest sister live.”</p> + +<p>Well, they flew there. The Eagle’s mother and eldest sister +were delighted to see them, and received the King with cordiality +and respect.</p> + +<p>“Now, my lord King,” said the Eagle, “tarry awhile with +us, and afterwards I will give you a ship, and will repay you for +all I ate in your house, and then—God speed you home again!”</p> + +<p>So the Eagle gave the King a ship and two coffers—the one +red, the other green—and said:</p> + +<p>“Mind now! don’t open the coffers until you get home. +Then open the red coffer in the back court, and the green coffer +in the front court.”</p> + +<p>The King took the coffers, parted with the Eagle, and sailed +along the blue sea. Presently he came to a certain island, and +there his ship stopped. He landed on the shore, and began +thinking about the coffers, and wondering whatever there could +be in them, and why the Eagle had told him not to open them. +He thought and thought, and at last couldn’t hold out any more—he +longed so awfully to know all about it. So he took the red +coffer, set it on the ground, and opened it—and out of it came +such a quantity of different kinds of cattle that there was no +counting them: the island had barely room enough for them.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> +When the King saw that, he became exceedingly sorrowful, +and began to weep and therewithal to say:</p> + +<p>“What is there now left for me to do? how shall I get all +this cattle back into so little a coffer?”</p> + +<p>Lo! there came out of the water a man—came up to him, and +asked:</p> + +<p>“Wherefore are you weeping so bitterly, O lord King?”</p> + +<p>“How can I help weeping!” answers the King. “How +shall I be able to get all this great herd into so small a coffer?”</p> + +<p>“If you like, I will set your mind at rest. I will pack up all +your cattle for you. But on one condition only. You must give +me whatever you have at home that you don’t know of.”</p> + +<p>The King reflected.</p> + +<p>“Whatever is there at home that I don’t know of?” says he. +“I fancy I know about everything that’s there.”</p> + +<p>He reflected, and consented. “Pack them up,” says he. “I +will give you whatever I have at home that I know nothing +about.”</p> + +<p>So that man packed away all his cattle for him in the coffer. +The King went on board ship and sailed away homewards.</p> + +<p>When he reached home, then only did he learn that a son +had been born to him. And he began kissing the child, caressing +it, and at the same time bursting into such floods of tears!</p> + +<p>“My lord King!” says the Queen, “tell me wherefore thou +droppest bitter tears?”</p> + +<p>“For joy!” he replies.</p> + +<p>He was afraid to tell her the truth, that the Prince would +have to be given up. Afterwards he went into the back court, +opened the red coffer, and thence issued oxen and cows, sheep +and rams; there were multitudes of all sorts of cattle, so that +all the sheds and pastures were crammed full. He went into +the front court, opened the green coffer, and there appeared a +great and glorious garden. What trees there were in it to be +sure! The King was so delighted that he forgot all about +giving up his son.</p> + +<p>Many years went by. One day the King took it into his +head to go for a stroll, and he came to a river. At that moment +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> +the same man he had seen before came out of the water, and +said:</p> + +<p>“You’ve pretty soon become forgetful, lord King! Think a +little! surely you’re in my debt!”</p> + +<p>The King returned home full of grief, and told all the truth to +the Queen and the Prince. They all mourned and wept together, +but they decided that there was no help for it, the Prince must +be given up. So they took him to the mouth of the river and +there they left him alone.</p> + +<p>The Prince looked around, saw a footpath, and followed +trusting God would lead him somewhere. He walked and walked, +and came to a dense forest: in the forest stood a hut, in the +hut lived a Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>“Suppose I go in,” thought the Prince, and went in.</p> + +<p>“Good day, Prince!” said the Baba Yaga. “Are you seeking +work or shunning work?”</p> + +<p>“Eh, granny! First give me to eat and to drink, and then ask +me questions.”</p> + +<p>So she gave him food and drink, and the Prince told her +everything as to whither he was going and with what purpose.</p> + +<p>Then the Baba Yaga said: “Go, my child, to the sea-shore; +there will fly thither twelve spoonbills, which will turn into fair +maidens, and begin bathing; do you steal quietly up and lay +your hands on the eldest maiden’s shift. When you have come +to terms with her, go to the Water King, and there will meet +you on the way Obédalo and Opivalo, and also Moroz Treskum<a name="FNanchor_144_144" id="FNanchor_144_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_144_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a>—take +all of them with you; they will do you good service.”</p> + +<p>The Prince bid the Yaga farewell, went to the appointed spot +on the sea-shore, and hid behind the bushes. Presently twelve +spoonbills came flying thither, struck the moist earth, turned +into fair maidens, and began to bathe. The Prince stole the +eldest one’s shift, and sat down behind a bush—didn’t budge +an inch. The girls finished bathing and came out on the shore: +eleven of them put on their shifts, turned into birds, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> +flew away home. There remained only the eldest, Vasilissa the +Wise. She began praying and begging the good youth:</p> + +<p>“Do give me my shift!” she says. “You are on your way +to the house of my father, the Water King. When you come +I will do you good service.”</p> + +<p>So the Prince gave her back her shift, and she immediately +turned into a spoonbill and flew away after her companions. +The Prince went further on; there met him by the way three +heroes—Obédalo, Opivalo, and Moroz Treskum; he took them +with him and went on to the Water King’s.</p> + +<p>The Water King saw him, and said:</p> + +<p>“Hail, friend! why have you been so long in coming to me? +I have grown weary of waiting for you. Now set to work. +Here is your first task. Build me in one night a great crystal +bridge, so that it shall be ready for use to-morrow. If you don’t +build it—off goes your head!”</p> + +<p>The Prince went away from the Water King, and burst into a +flood of tears. Vasilissa the Wise opened the window of her +upper chamber, and asked:</p> + +<p>“What are you crying about, Prince?”</p> + +<p>“Ah! Vasilissa the Wise! how can I help crying? Your +father has ordered me to build a crystal bridge in a single night, +and I don’t even know how to handle an axe.”</p> + +<p>“No matter! lie down and sleep; the morning is wiser than +the evening.”</p> + +<p>She ordered him to sleep, but she herself went out on the +steps, and called aloud with a mighty whistling cry. Then from +all sides there ran together carpenters and workmen; one +levelled the ground, another carried bricks. Soon had they +built a crystal bridge, and traced cunning devices on it; and then +they dispersed to their homes.</p> + +<p>Early next morning Vasilissa the Wise awoke the Prince:</p> + +<p>“Get up, Prince! the bridge is ready: my father will be +coming to inspect it directly.”</p> + +<p>Up jumped the Prince, seized a broom, took his place on the +bridge, and began sweeping here, clearing up there.</p> + +<p>The Water King bestowed praise upon him:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> +“Thanks!” says he. “You’ve done me one service: now +do another. Here is your task. Plant me by to-morrow a +garden green—a big and shady one; and there must be birds +singing in the garden, and flowers blossoming on the trees, and +ripe apples and pears hanging from the boughs.”</p> + +<p>Away went the Prince from the Water King, all dissolved in +tears. Vasilissa the Wise opened her window and asked:</p> + +<p>“What are you crying for, Prince?”</p> + +<p>“How can I help crying? Your father has ordered me to +plant a garden in one night!”</p> + +<p>“That’s nothing! lie down and sleep: the morning is wiser +than the evening.”</p> + +<p>She made him go to sleep, but she herself went out on the +steps, called and whistled with a mighty whistle. From every +side there ran together gardeners of all sorts, and they planted +a garden green, and in the garden birds sang, on the trees +flowers blossomed, from the boughs hung ripe apples and pears.</p> + +<p>Early in the morning Vasilissa the Wise awoke the Prince:</p> + +<p>“Get up, Prince! the garden is ready: Papa is coming to +see it.”</p> + +<p>The Prince immediately snatched up a broom, and was off to +the garden. Here he swept a path, there he trained a twig. +The Water King praised him and said:</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Prince! You’ve done me right trusty service. So +choose yourself a bride from among my twelve daughters. They +are all exactly alike in face, in hair, and in dress. If you can +pick out the same one three times running, she shall be your +wife; if you fail to do so, I shall have you put to death.”</p> + +<p>Vasilissa the Wise knew all about that, so she found time to +say to the Prince:</p> + +<p>“The first time I will wave my handkerchief, the second I +will be arranging my dress, the third time you will see a fly +above my head.”</p> + +<p>And so the Prince guessed which was Vasilissa the Wise +three times running. And he and she were married, and a wedding +feast was got ready.</p> + +<p>Now the Water King had prepared much food of all sorts +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +more than a hundred men could get through. And he ordered +his son-in-law to see that everything was eaten. “If anything +remains over, the worse for you!” says he.</p> + +<p>“My Father,” begs the Prince, “there’s an old fellow of +mine here; please let him take a snack with us.”</p> + +<p>“Let him come!”</p> + +<p>Immediately appeared Obédalo—ate up everything, and +wasn’t content then! The Water King next set out two score +tubs of all kinds of strong drinks, and ordered his son-in-law to +see that they were all drained dry.</p> + +<p>“My Father!” begs the Prince again, “there’s another old +man of mine here, let him, too, drink your health.”</p> + +<p>“Let him come!”</p> + +<p>Opivalo appeared, emptied all the forty tubs in a twinkling, +and then asked for a drop more by way of stirrup-cup.<a name="FNanchor_145_145" id="FNanchor_145_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_145_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a></p> + +<p>The Water King saw that there was nothing to be gained that +way, so he gave orders to prepare a bath-room for the young +couple—an iron bath-room—and to heat it as hot as possible. So +the iron bath-room was made hot. Twelve loads of firewood +were set alight, and the stove and the walls were made red-hot—impossible +to come within five versts of it.</p> + +<p>“My Father!” says the Prince; “let an old fellow of ours +have a scrub first, just to try the bath-room.”</p> + +<p>“Let him do so!”</p> + +<p>Moroz Treskum went into the bath room, blew into one corner, +blew in another—in a moment icicles were hanging there. +After him the young couple also went into the bath-room, were +lathered and scrubbed,<a name="FNanchor_146_146" id="FNanchor_146_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_146_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a> and then went home.</p> + +<p>After a time Vasilissa said to the Prince, “Let us get out of +my father’s power. He’s tremendously angry with you; perhaps +he’ll be doing you some hurt.”</p> + +<p>“Let us go,” says the Prince.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +Straightway they saddled their horses and galloped off into +the open plain. They rode and rode; many an hour went by.</p> + +<p>“Jump down from your horse, Prince, and lay your ear close +to the earth,” said Vasilissa. “Cannot you hear a sound as of +pursuers?”</p> + +<p>The prince bent his ear to the ground, but he could hear nothing. +Then Vasilissa herself lighted down from her good +steed, laid herself flat on the earth, and said: “Ah Prince! I hear +a great noise as of chasing after us.” Then she turned the +horses into a well, and herself into a bowl, and the Prince into +an old, very old man. Up came the pursuers.</p> + +<p>“Heigh, old man!” say they, “haven’t you seen a youth and +a maiden pass by?”</p> + +<p>“I saw them, my friends! only it was a long while ago. I was +a youngster at the time when they rode by.”</p> + +<p>The pursuers returned to the Water King.</p> + +<p>“There is no trace of them,” they said, “no news: all we +saw was an old man beside a well, and a bowl floating on the +water.”</p> + +<p>“Why did not ye seize them?” cried the Water King, who +thereupon put the pursuers to a cruel death, and sent another +troop after the Prince and Vasilissa the Wise.</p> + +<p>The fugitives in the mean time had ridden far, far away. +Vasilissa the Wise heard the noise made by the fresh set of +pursuers, so she turned the Prince into an old priest, and she +herself became an ancient church. Scarcely did its walls hold +together, covered all over with moss. Presently up came the +pursuers.</p> + +<p>“Heigh, old man! haven’t you seen a youth and a maiden +pass by?”</p> + +<p>“I saw them, my own! only it was long, ever so long ago. I +was a young man when they rode by. It was just while I was +building this church.”</p> + +<p>So the second set of pursuers returned to the Water King, +saying:</p> + +<p>“There is neither trace nor news of them, your Royal Majesty. +All that we saw was an old priest and an ancient church.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +“Why did not ye seize them?” cried the Water King louder +than before, and having put the pursuers to a cruel death, he +galloped off himself in pursuit of the Prince and Vasilissa the +Wise. This time Vasilissa turned the horses into a river of +honey with <i>kissel</i><a name="FNanchor_147_147" id="FNanchor_147_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_147_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a> banks, and changed the Prince into a Drake +and herself into a grey duck. The Water King flung himself +on the <i>kissel</i> and honey-water, and ate and ate, and drank and +drank until he burst! And so he gave up the ghost.</p> + +<p>The Prince and Vasilissa rode on, and at length they drew +nigh to the home of the Prince’s parents. Then said Vasilissa,</p> + +<p>“Go on in front, Prince, and report your arrival to your +father and mother. But I will wait for you here by the wayside. +Only remember these words of mine: kiss everyone +else, only don’t kiss your sister; if you do, you will forget me.”</p> + +<p>The Prince reached home, began saluting every one, kissed +his sister too—and no sooner had he kissed her than from that +very moment he forgot all about his wife, just as if she had +never entered into his mind.</p> + +<p>Three days did Vasilissa the Wise await him. On the fourth +day she clad herself like a beggar, went into the capital, and +took up her quarters in an old woman’s house. But the Prince +was preparing to marry a rich Princess, and orders were given +to proclaim throughout the kingdom, that all Christian people +were to come to congratulate the bride and bridegroom, each +one bringing a wheaten pie as a present. Well, the old woman +with whom Vasilissa lodged, prepared, like everyone else, to +sift flour and make a pie.</p> + +<p>“Why are you making a pie, granny?” asked Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>“Is it why? you evidently don’t know then. Our King is +giving his son in marriage to a rich princess: one must go to +the palace to serve up the dinner to the young couple.”</p> + +<p>“Come now! I, too, will bake a pie and take it to the +palace; may be the King will make me some present.”</p> + +<p>“Bake away in God’s name!” said the old woman.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +Vasilissa took flour, kneaded dough, and made a pie. And +inside it she put some curds and a pair of live doves.</p> + +<p>Well, the old woman and Vasilissa the Wise reached the +palace just at dinner-time. There a feast was in progress, one +fit for all the world to see. Vasilissa’s pie was set on the table, +but no sooner was it cut in two than out of it flew the two +doves. The hen bird seized a piece of curd, and her mate said +to her:</p> + +<p>“Give me some curds, too, Dovey!”</p> + +<p>“No I won’t,” replied the other dove: “else you’d forget +me, as the Prince has forgotten his Vasilissa the Wise.”</p> + +<p>Then the Prince remembered about his wife. He jumped +up from table, caught her by her white hands, and seated her +close by his side. From that time forward they lived together +in all happiness and prosperity.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[With this story may be compared a multitude of tales in very many languages. +In German for instance, “Der König vom goldenen Berg,” (Grimm, <i>KM.</i> No. 92. +See also Nos. 51, 56, 113, 181, and the opening of No. 31), “Der Königssohn und +die Teufelstochter,” (Haltrich, No. 26), and “Grünus Kravalle” (Wolf’s “Deutsche +Hausmärchen,” No. 29)—the Norse “Mastermaid,” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 46, +Dasent, No. 11) and “The Three Princesses of Whiteland,” (A. and M. No. 9, +Dasent, No. 26)—the Lithuanian story (Schleicher, No. 26, p. 75) in which a “field-devil” +exacts from a farmer the promise of a child—the Wallachian stories (Schott, +Nos. 2 and 15) in which a devil obtains a like promise from a woodcutter and a fisherman—the +Modern Greek (Hahn, Nos. 4, 5, 54, and 68) in which a child is promised +to a Dervish, a <i>Drakos</i>, the Devil, and a Demon—and the Gaelic tales of “The +Battle of the Birds” and “The Sea-maiden,” (Campbell, Nos. 2 and 4) in the +former of which the child is promised to a Giant, in the latter to a Mermaid. The +likeness between the Russian story and the “Battle of the Birds” is very striking. +References to a great many other similar tales will be found in Grimm (<i>KM.</i> iii. pp. +96-7, and 168-9). The group to which all these stories belong is linked with a set of +tales about a father who apprentices his son to a wizard, sometimes to the Devil, +from whom the youth escapes with great difficulty. The principal Russian representative +of the second set is called “Eerie Art,” “Khitraya Nauka,” (Afanasief, v. +No. 22, vi. No. 45, viii. p. 339).</p> + +<p>To the hero’s adventures while with the Water King, and while escaping from +him, an important parallel is offered by the end of the already mentioned (at p. 92) +Indian story of Sringabhuja. That prince asks Agnisikha, the Rákshasa whom, in +his crane-form, he has wounded, to bestow upon him the hand of his daughter—the +maiden who had met him on his arrival at the Rákshasa’s palace. The demon pretends +to consent, but only on condition that the prince is able to pick out his love +from among her numerous sisters. This Sringabhuja is able to do in spite of all the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +demon’s daughters being exactly alike, as she has told him beforehand she will wear +her pearls on her brow instead of round her neck. Her father will not remark the +change, she says, for being of the demon race, he is not very sharp witted. The +Rákshasa next sets the prince two of the usual tasks. He is to plough a great field, +and sow a hundred bushels of corn. When this, by the daughter’s help, is done, he is +told to gather up the seed again. This also the demon’s daughter does for him, sending +to his aid a countless swarm of ants. Lastly he is commanded to visit the demon’s +brother and invite him to the wedding. He does so, and is pursued by the invited +guest, from whom he escapes only by throwing behind him earth, water, thorns, and +lastly fire, with all of which he has been provided by his love. They produce corresponding +obstacles which enable him to get away from the uncle of his bride. The +demon now believes that his proposed son-in-law must be a god in disguise, so he +gives his consent to the marriage. All goes well for a time, but at last the prince +wants to go home, so he and his wife fly from her father’s palace. Agnisikha pursues +them. She makes her husband invisible, while she assumes the form of a woodman. +Up comes her angry sire, and asks for news of the fugitives. She replies she has +seen none, her eyes being full of tears caused by the death of the Rákshasa prince +Agnisikha. The slow-witted demon immediately flies home to find out whether he is +really dead. Discovering that he is not, he renews the pursuit. Again his daughter +renders her husband invisible, and assumes the form of a messenger carrying a letter. +When her father arrives and repeats his question, she says she has seen no one: she +is going with a letter to his brother from Agnisikha, who has just been mortally +wounded. Back again home flies the demon in great distress, anxious to find out +whether he has really been wounded to death or not. After settling this question, he +leaves his daughter and her husband in peace. See Professor Brockhaus in the +“Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K. Sächs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften,” +1861, pp. 226-9, and Professor Wilson, “Essays, &c.,” ii. p. 136-8. Cf. R. Köhler +in “Orient und Occident,” ii. pp. 107-14.]</p></div> + +<p>In another story a king is out hunting and becomes thirsty. +Seeing a spring near at hand, he bends down and is just +going to lap up its water, when the Tsar-Medvéd, a King-Bear, +seizes him by the beard. The king is unable to free +himself from his grasp, and is obliged to promise as his +ransom “that which he knows not of at home,” which turns +out to be a couple of children—a boy and a girl—who have +been born during his absence. In vain does he attempt to +save the twins from their impending fate, by concealing +them in a secret abode constructed for that purpose underground. +In the course of time the King-Bear arrives to +claim them, finds out their hiding-place, digs them up, and +carries them off on his back to a distant region where no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +man lives. During his absence they attempt to escape +being carried through the air on the back of a friendly +falcon, but the King-Bear sees them, “strikes his head against +the earth, and burns the falcon’s wings.” The twins fall +to the ground, and are carried by the King-Bear to his +home amid inaccessible mountains. There they make a +second attempt at escape, trusting this time to an eagle’s +aid; but it meets with exactly the same fate as their first +trial. At last they are rescued by a bull-calf, which succeeds +in baffling all the King-Bear’s efforts to recover them. +At the end of their perilous journey the bull-calf tells the +young prince to cut its throat, and burn its carcase. He +unwillingly consents, and from its ashes spring a horse, +a dog, and an apple-tree, all of which play important parts +in the next act of the drama.<a name="FNanchor_148_148" id="FNanchor_148_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_148_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the variants of the Water King story,<a name="FNanchor_149_149" id="FNanchor_149_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_149_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a> the +seizer of the drinking kings’ beard is not called the <i>Morskoi +Tsar</i> but <i>Chudo Morskoe</i>, a Water Chudo, whose name recalls +to mind the Chudo Yudo we have already met with.<a name="FNanchor_150_150" id="FNanchor_150_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_150_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a> +The Prince who is obliged, in consequence of his father’s +promise, to surrender himself to the Water Giant, falls in +love with a maiden whom he finds in that potentate’s +palace, and who is an enchantress whom the Chudo has +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +stolen. She turns herself into a ring, which he carries +about with him, and eventually, after his escape from the +Chudo, she becomes his bride.</p> + +<p>In another story,<a name="FNanchor_151_151" id="FNanchor_151_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_151_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a> the being who obtains a child from +one of the incautious fathers of the Jephthah type who +abound in popular fiction, is of a very singular nature. A +merchant is flying across a river on the back of an eagle, +when he drops a magic “snuff-box,” which had been entrusted +to his charge by that bird, and it disappears beneath +the waters. At the eagle’s command, the crayfish search for +it, and bring back word that it is lying “on the knees of an +Idol.” The eagle summons the Idol, and demands the snuff +box. Thereupon the Idol says to the merchant—“Give me +what you do not know of at home?” The merchant agrees +and the Idol gives him back his snuff-box.</p> + +<p>In some of the variants of the story, the influence of +ideas connected with Christianity makes itself apparent in +the names given to the actors. Thus in the “Moujik and +Anastasia Adovna,”<a name="FNanchor_152_152" id="FNanchor_152_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_152_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a> it is no longer a king of the waters, but +a devil’s imp,<a name="FNanchor_153_153" id="FNanchor_153_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_153_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a> who bargains with the thirsting father for +his child, and the swan-maiden whose shift the devoted +youth steals bears the name of Adovna, the daughter of +Ad or Hades. In “The Youth,”<a name="FNanchor_154_154" id="FNanchor_154_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_154_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> a moujik, who has lost his +way in a forest makes the rash promise to a man who +enables him to cross a great river; “and that man (says the +story) was a devil.”<a name="FNanchor_155_155" id="FNanchor_155_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_155_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a> We shall meet with other instances +further on of parents whose “hasty words” condemn their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +children to captivity among evil spirits. In one of the +stories of this class,<a name="FNanchor_156_156" id="FNanchor_156_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_156_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a> the father is a hunter who is perishing +with cold one night, and who makes the usual promise as +the condition of his being allowed to warm himself at a fire +guarded by a devil. Being in consequence of this deprived +of a son, he becomes very sad, and drinks himself to death. +“The priest will not bury his sinful body, so it is thrust into +a hole at a crossway,” and he falls into the power of “that +very same devil,” who turns him into a horse, and uses him +as a beast of burden. At last he is released by his son, +who has forced the devil to free him after several adventures—one +of them being a fight with the evil spirit in the shape +of a three-headed snake.</p> + +<p>In the Hindoo story of “Brave Seventee Bai,”<a name="FNanchor_157_157" id="FNanchor_157_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_157_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a> that heroine +kills “a very large Cobra” which comes out of a lake. +Touching the waters with a magic diamond taken from the +snake, she sees them roll back “in a wall on either hand,” +between which she passes into a splendid garden. In it +she finds a lovely girl who proves to be the Cobra’s daughter +and who is delighted to hear of her serpent-father’s death.</p> + +<p>Demon haunted waters, which prove fatal to mortals +who bathe in or drink of them, often occur in oriental +fiction. In one of the Indian stories, for instance,<a name="FNanchor_158_158" id="FNanchor_158_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_158_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a> a king is +induced to order his escort to bathe in a lake which is the +abode of a Rákshasa or demon. They leap into the water +simultaneously, and are all devoured by the terrible man-eater. +From the assaults of such a Rákshasa as this it was +that Buddha, who was at the time a monkey, preserved +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> +himself and 80,000 of his brother monkeys, by suggesting +that they should drink from the tank in which the demon +lay in wait for them, “through reeds previously made completely +hollow by their breath.”<a name="FNanchor_159_159" id="FNanchor_159_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_159_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a></p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>From these male personifications of evil—from the +Snake, Koshchei, and the Water King—we will now turn +to their corresponding female forms. By far the most important +beings of the latter class are those malevolent enchantresses +who form two closely related branches of the +same family. Like their sisters all over the world, they +are, as a general rule, old, hideous, and hateful. They +possess all kinds of supernatural powers, but their wits are +often dull. They wage constant war with mankind, but +the heroes of storyland find them as easily overcome as +the males of their family. In their general character they +bear a strong resemblance to the Giantesses, Lamias, +female Trolls, Ogresses, Dragonesses, &c., of Europe, but +in some of their traits they differ from those well-known +beings, and therefore they are worthy of a detailed notice.</p> + +<p>In several of the stories which have already been +quoted, a prominent part is played by the Baba Yaga, a +female fiend whose name has given rise to much philological +discussion of a somewhat unsatisfactory nature.<a name="FNanchor_160_160" id="FNanchor_160_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_160_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +Her appearance is that of a tall, gaunt hag, with dishevelled +hair. Sometimes she is seen lying stretched out from one +corner to the other of a miserable hut, through the ceiling +of which passes her long iron nose; the hut is supported +“by fowl’s legs,” and stands at the edge of a forest towards +which its entrance looks. When the proper words are addressed +to it, the hut revolves upon its slender supports, +so as to turn its back instead of its front to the forest. +Sometimes, as in the next story, the Baba Yaga appears +as the mistress of a mansion, which stands in a courtyard +enclosed by a fence made of dead men’s bones. When +she goes abroad she rides in a mortar, which she urges on +with a pestle, while she sweeps away the traces of her +flight with a broom. She is closely connected with the +Snake in different forms; in many stories, indeed, the +leading part has been ascribed by one narrator to a Snake +and by another to a Baba Yaga. She possesses the usual +magic apparatus by which enchantresses work their wonders; +the Day and the Night (according to the following +story) are among her servants, the entire animal world lies +at her disposal. On the whole she is the most prominent +among the strange figures with which the Skazkas make us +acquainted. Of the stories which especially relate to her +the following may be taken as a fair specimen.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Baba Yaga.</span><a name="FNanchor_161_161" id="FNanchor_161_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_161_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there was an old couple. The husband lost +his wife and married again. But he had a daughter by the first +marriage, a young girl, and she found no favor in the eyes of +her evil stepmother, who used to beat her, and consider how she +could get her killed outright. One day the father went away +somewhere or other, so the stepmother said to the girl, “Go to +your aunt, my sister, and ask her for a needle and thread to make +you a shift.”</p> + +<p>Now that aunt was a Baba Yaga. Well, the girl was no fool, +so she went to a real aunt of hers first, and says she:</p> + +<p>“Good morning, auntie!”</p> + +<p>“Good morning, my dear! what have you come for?”</p> + +<p>“Mother has sent me to her sister, to ask for a needle and +thread to make me a shift.”</p> + +<p>Then her aunt instructed her what to do. “There is a birch-tree +there, niece, which would hit you in the eye—you must tie +a ribbon round it; there are doors which would creak and bang—you +must pour oil on their hinges; there are dogs which would +tear you in pieces—you must throw them these rolls; there is a +cat which would scratch your eyes out—you must give it a piece +of bacon.”</p> + +<p>So the girl went away, and walked and walked, till she came +to the place. There stood a hut, and in it sat weaving the Baba +Yaga, the Bony-shanks.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, auntie,” says the girl.</p> + +<p>“Good morning, my dear,” replies the Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>“Mother has sent me to ask you for a needle and thread to +make me a shift.”</p> + +<p>“Very well; sit down and weave a little in the meantime.”</p> + +<p>So the girl sat down behind the loom, and the Baba Yaga +went outside, and said to her servant-maid:</p> + +<p>“Go and heat the bath, and get my niece washed; and mind +you look sharp after her. I want to breakfast off her.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +Well, the girl sat there in such a fright that she was as much +dead as alive. Presently she spoke imploringly to the servant-maid, +saying:</p> + +<p>“Kinswoman dear, do please wet the firewood instead of +making it burn; and fetch the water for the bath in a sieve.” +And she made her a present of a handkerchief.</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga waited awhile; then she came to the window +and asked:</p> + +<p>“Are you weaving, niece? are you weaving, my dear?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, dear aunt, I’m weaving.” So the Baba Yaga went +away again, and the girl gave the Cat a piece of bacon, and +asked:</p> + +<p>“Is there no way of escaping from here?”</p> + +<p>“Here’s a comb for you and a towel,” said the Cat; “take +them, and be off. The Baba Yaga will pursue you, but you must +lay your ear on the ground, and when you hear that she is close +at hand, first of all throw down the towel. It will become a wide, +wide river. And if the Baba Yaga gets across the river, and +tries to catch you, then you must lay your ear on the ground +again, and when you hear that she is close at hand, throw down +the comb. It will become a dense, dense forest; through that +she won’t be able to force her way anyhow.”</p> + +<p>The girl took the towel and the comb and fled. The dogs +would have rent her, but she threw them the rolls, and they let +her go by; the doors would have begun to bang, but she poured +oil on their hinges, and they let her pass through; the birch-tree +would have poked her eyes out, but she tied the ribbon around +it, and it let her pass on. And the Cat sat down to the loom, +and worked away; muddled everything about, if it didn’t do +much weaving. Up came the Baba Yaga to the window, and +asked:</p> + +<p>“Are you weaving, niece? are you weaving, my dear?”</p> + +<p>“I’m weaving, dear aunt, I’m weaving,” gruffly replied the +Cat.</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga rushed into the hut, saw that the girl was +gone, and took to beating the Cat, and abusing it for not having +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +scratched the girl’s eyes out. “Long as I’ve served you,” said +the Cat, “you’ve never given me so much as a bone; but she +gave me bacon.” Then the Baba Yaga pounced upon the dogs, +on the doors, on the birch-tree, and on the servant-maid, and set +to work to abuse them all, and to knock them about. Then the +dogs said to her, “Long as we’ve served you, you’ve never so +much as pitched us a burnt crust; but she gave us rolls to eat.” +And the doors said, “Long as we’ve served you, you’ve never +poured even a drop of water on our hinges; but she poured oil +on us.” The birch-tree said, “Long as I’ve served you, you’ve +never tied a single thread round me; but she fastened a ribbon +around me.” And the servant-maid said, “Long as I’ve served +you, you’ve never given me so much as a rag; but she gave me +a handkerchief.”</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga, bony of limb, quickly jumped into her +mortar, sent it flying along with the pestle, sweeping away the +while all traces of its flight with a broom, and set off in pursuit +of the girl. Then the girl put her ear to the ground, and when +she heard that the Baba Yaga was chasing her, and was now +close at hand, she flung down the towel. And it became a wide, +such a wide river! Up came the Baba Yaga to the river, and +gnashed her teeth with spite; then she went home for her oxen, +and drove them to the river. The oxen drank up every drop of +the river, and then the Baba Yaga began the pursuit anew. +But the girl put her ear to the ground again, and when she heard +that the Baba Yaga was near, she flung down the comb, and +instantly a forest sprang up, such an awfully thick one! The +Baba Yaga began gnawing away at it, but however hard she +worked, she couldn’t gnaw her way through it, so she had to go +back again.</p> + +<p>But by this time the girl’s father had returned home, and he +asked:</p> + +<p>“Where’s my daughter?”</p> + +<p>“She’s gone to her aunt’s,” replied her stepmother.</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards the girl herself came running home.</p> + +<p>“Where have you been?” asked her father.</p> + +<p>“Ah, father!” she said, “mother sent me to aunt’s to ask +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> +for a needle and thread to make me a shift. But aunt’s a Baba +Yaga, and she wanted to eat me!”</p> + +<p>“And how did you get away, daughter?”</p> + +<p>“Why like this,” said the girl, and explained the whole +matter. As soon as her father had heard all about it, he became +wroth with his wife, and shot her. But he and his daughter +lived on and flourished, and everything went well with them.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">In one of the numerous variants of this story<a name="FNanchor_162_162" id="FNanchor_162_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_162_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a> the +heroine is sent by her husband’s mother to the Baba Yaga’s, +and the advice which saves her comes from her husband. +The Baba Yaga goes into another room “in order to +sharpen her teeth,” and while she is engaged in that operation +the girl escapes, having previously—by the advice of +the Cat, to which she had given a lump of butter—spat +under the threshold. The spittle answers for her in her +absence, behaving as do, in other folk-tales, drops of blood, +or rags dipped in blood, or apples, or eggs, or beans, or +stone images, or wooden puppets.<a name="FNanchor_163_163" id="FNanchor_163_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_163_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a></p> + +<p>The magic comb and towel, by the aid of which the girl +effects her escape, constantly figure in Skazkas of this class, +and always produce the required effect. A brush, also, is +frequently introduced, from each bristle of which springs up +a wood. In one story, however, the brush gives rise to +mountains, and a <i>golik</i>, or bath-room whisk, turns into a +forest. The towel is used, also, for the purpose of constructing +or annihilating a bridge. Similar instruments are +found in the folk-tales of every land, whether they appear +as the brush, comb, and mirror of the German water-sprite;<a name="FNanchor_164_164" id="FNanchor_164_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_164_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a> +or the rod, stone, and pitcher of water of the +Norse Troll;<a name="FNanchor_165_165" id="FNanchor_165_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_165_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a> or the knife, comb, and handful of salt +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> +which, in the Modern Greek story, save Asterinos and +Pulja from their fiendish mother;<a name="FNanchor_166_166" id="FNanchor_166_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_166_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a> or the twig, the stone, +and the bladder of water, found in the ear of the filly, +which saves her master from the Gaelic giant;<a name="FNanchor_167_167" id="FNanchor_167_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_167_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a> or the +brush, comb, and egg, the last of which produces a frozen +lake with “mirror-smooth” surface, whereon the pursuing +Old Prussian witch slips and breaks her neck;<a name="FNanchor_168_168" id="FNanchor_168_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_168_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a> or the wand +which causes a river to flow and a mountain to rise +between the youth who waves it and the “wicked old +Rákshasa” who chases him in the Deccan story;<a name="FNanchor_169_169" id="FNanchor_169_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_169_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a> or the +handful of earth, cup of water, and dry sticks and match, +which impede and finally destroy the Rákshasa in the +almost identical episode of Somadeva’s tale of “The Prince +of Varddhamána.”<a name="FNanchor_170_170" id="FNanchor_170_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_170_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a></p> + +<p>In each instance they appear to typify the influence +which the supernatural beings to whom they belonged were +supposed to exercise over the elements. It has been +thought strange that such stress should be laid on the +employment of certain toilet-articles, to the use of which +the heroes of folk-tales do not appear to have been greatly +addicted. But it is evident that like produces like in the +transformation in question. In the oldest form of the +story, the Sanskrit, a handful of earth turns into a mountain, +a cup of water into a river. Now, metaphorically +speaking, a brush may be taken as a miniature wood; the +common use of the term brushwood is a proof of the general +acceptance of the metaphor. A comb does not at first +sight appear to resemble a mountain, but its indented +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> +outline may have struck the fancy of many primitive peoples +as being a likeness to a serrated mountain range. Thence +comes it that in German <i>Kamm</i> means not only a comb +but also (like the Spanish <i>Sierra</i>) a mountain ridge or +crest.<a name="FNanchor_171_171" id="FNanchor_171_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_171_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the numerous stories<a name="FNanchor_172_172" id="FNanchor_172_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_172_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a> about the Baba Yaga, +four heroes are wandering about the world together; when +they come to a dense forest in which a small izba, or hut, is +twirling round on “a <ins class="correction" title="foul’s in original">fowl’s</ins> leg.” Ivan, the youngest of the +party, utters the magical formula “Izbushka, Izbushka! +stand with back to the forest and front towards us,” and +“the hut faces towards them, its doors and windows open of +their own accord.” The heroes enter and find it empty. +One of the party then remains indoors, while the rest go +out to the chase. The hero who is left alone prepares a +meal, and then, “after washing his head, sits down by the +window to comb his hair.” Suddenly a stone is lifted, and +from under it appears a Baba Yaga, driving in her mortar, +with a dog yelping at her heels. She enters the hut and, +after some short parley, seizes her pestle, and begins +beating the hero with it until he falls prostrate. Then she +cuts a strip out of his back, eats up the whole of the viands +he has prepared for his companions, and disappears. After +a time the beaten hero recovers his senses, “ties up his head +with a handkerchief,” and sits groaning until his comrades +return. Then he makes some excuse for not having got +any supper ready for them, but says nothing about what +has really happened to him.</p> + +<p>On the next day the second hero is treated in the same +manner by the Baba Yaga, and on the day after that the +third undergoes a similar humiliation. But on the fourth +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +day it falls to the lot of the young Ivan to stay in the hut +alone. The Baba Yaga appears as usual, and begins +thumping him with her pestle; but he snatches it from +her, beats her almost to death with it, cuts three strips out +of her back, and then locks her up in a closet. When his +comrades return, they are surprised to find him unhurt, +and a meal prepared for them, but they ask no questions. +After supper they all take a bath, and then Ivan remarks +that each of his companions has had a strip cut out of his +back. This leads to a full confession, on hearing which +Ivan “runs to the closet, takes those strips out of the +Baba Yaga, and applies them to their backs,” which immediately +become cured. He then hangs up the Baba +Yaga by a cord tied to one foot, at which cord all the party +shoot. At length it is severed, and she drops. As soon +as she touches the ground, she runs to the stone from under +which she had appeared, lifts it, and disappears.<a name="FNanchor_173_173" id="FNanchor_173_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_173_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a></p> + +<p>The rest of the story is very similar to that of “Norka,” +which has already been given, only instead of the beast of +that name we have the Baba Yaga, whom Ivan finds asleep, +with a magic sword at her head. Following the advice of +her daughters, three fair maidens whom he meets in her +palace, Ivan does not attempt to touch the magic sword +while she sleeps. But he awakes her gently, and offers +her two golden apples on a silver dish. She lifts her head +and opens her mouth, whereupon he seizes the sword and +cuts her head off. As is usual in the stories of this class, +his comrades, after hoisting the maidens aloft, cut the cord +and let him fall back into the abyss. But he escapes, and +eventually “he slays all the three heroes, and flings their +bodies on the plain for wild beasts to devour.” This +Skazka is one of the many versions of a widespread tale, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +which tells how the youngest of a party, usually consisting +of three persons, overcomes some supernatural foe, generally +a dwarf, who had been more than a match for his +companions. The most important of these versions is the +Lithuanian story of the carpenter who overcomes a Laume—a +being in many respects akin to the Baba Yaga—who +has proved too strong for his comrades, Perkun and the +Devil.<a name="FNanchor_174_174" id="FNanchor_174_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_174_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a></p> + +<p>The practice of cutting strips from an enemy’s back is +frequently referred to in the Skazkas—much more frequently +than in the German and Norse stories. It is not +often that such strips are turned to good account, but in +the Skazka with which we have just been dealing, Ivan +finding the rope by which he is being lowered into the +abyss too short, ties to the end of it the three strips he +has cut from the Baba Yaga’s back, and so makes it sufficiently +long. They are often exacted as the penalty of +losing a wager, as well in the Skazkas as elsewhere.<a name="FNanchor_175_175" id="FNanchor_175_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_175_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a> In +a West-Slavonian story about a wager of this kind, the +winner cuts off the loser’s nose.<a name="FNanchor_176_176" id="FNanchor_176_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_176_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a> In the Gaelic stories it +is not an uncommon incident for a man to have “a strip +of skin cut off him from his crown to his sole.”<a name="FNanchor_177_177" id="FNanchor_177_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_177_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a></p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga generally kills people in order to eat +them. Her house is fenced about with the bones of the +men whose flesh she has devoured; in one story she offers +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> +a human arm, by way of a meal, to a girl who visits her. +But she is also represented in one of the stories<a name="FNanchor_178_178" id="FNanchor_178_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_178_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a> as petrifying +her victims. This trait connects her with Medusa, +and the three sister Baba Yagas with the three Gorgones. +The Russian Gorgo’s method of petrifaction is singular. +In the story referred to, Ivan Dévich (Ivan the servant-maid’s +son) meets a Baba Yaga, who plucks one of her +hairs, gives it to him, and says, “Tie three knots and then +blow.” He does so, and both he and his horse turn into +stone. The Baba Yaga places them in her mortar, pounds +them to bits, and buries their remains under a stone. A +little later comes Ivan Dévich’s comrade, Prince Ivan. +Him also the Yaga attempts to destroy, but he feigns +ignorance, and persuades her to show him how to tie +knots and to blow. The result is that she becomes petrified +herself. Prince Ivan puts her in her own mortar, +and proceeds to pound her therein, until she tells him +where the fragments of his comrade are, and what he +must do to restore them to life.</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga usually lives by herself, but sometimes +she appears in the character of the house-mother. One +of the Skazkas<a name="FNanchor_179_179" id="FNanchor_179_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_179_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a> relates how a certain old couple, who had +no children, were advised to get a number of eggs from +the village—one from each house—and to place them +under a sitting hen. From the forty-one eggs thus obtained +and treated are born as many boys, all but one of whom +develop into strong men, but the forty-first long remains +a poor weak creature, a kind of “Hop-o’-my-thumb.” +They all set forth to seek brides, and eventually marry the +forty-one daughters of a Baba Yaga. On the wedding +night she intends to kill her sons-in-law; but they, acting +on the advice of him who had been the weakling of their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> +party, but who has become a mighty hero, exchange clothes +with their brides before “lying down to sleep.” Accordingly +the Baba Yaga’s “trusty servants” cut off the heads +of her daughters instead of those of her sons-in-law. +Those youths arise, stick the heads of their brides on iron +spikes all round the house, and gallop away. When the +Baba Yaga awakes in the morning, looks out of the window, +and sees her daughters’ heads on their spikes, she flies into +a passion, calls for “her burning shield,” sets off in pursuit +of her sons-in-law, and “begins burning up everything on +all four sides with her shield.” A magic, bridge-creating +kerchief, however, enables the fugitives to escape from +their irritated mother-in-law.</p> + +<p>In one story<a name="FNanchor_180_180" id="FNanchor_180_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_180_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a> the heroine is ordered to swing the +cradle in which reposes a Baba Yaga’s infant son, whom +she is ordered to address in terms of respect when she +sings him lullabies; in others she is told to wash a Baba +Yaga’s many children, whose appearance is usually unprepossessing. +One girl, for instance, is ordered by a +Baba Yaga to heat the bath, but the fuel given her for the +purpose turns out to be dead men’s bones. Having got +over this difficulty, thanks to the advice of a sparrow +which tells her where to look for wood, she is sent to fetch +water in a sieve. Again the sparrow comes to her rescue +telling her to line the sieve with clay. Then she is told +to wait upon the Baba Yaga’s children in the bath-room. +She enters it, and presently in come “worms, frogs, rats, +and all sorts of insects.” These, which are the Baba +Yaga’s children, she soaps over and otherwise treats in +the approved Russian-bath style, and afterwards she does +as much for their mother. The Baba Yaga is highly +pleased, calls for a “samovar” (or urn), and invites her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +young bath-woman to drink tea with her. And finally she +sends her home with a blue coffer, which turns out to be +full of money. This present excites the cupidity of her +stepmother, who sends her own daughter to the Baba +Yaga’s, hoping that she will bring back a similar treasure. +The Baba Yaga gives the same orders as before to the +new-comer, but that conceited young person fails to carry +them out. She cannot make the bones burn, nor the sieve +hold water, but when the sparrow offers its advice she +only boxes its ears. And when the “rats, frogs, and all +manner of vermin,” enter the bath-room, “she crushed +half of them to death,” says the story; “the rest ran +home, and complained about her to their mother.” And +so the Baba Yaga, when she dismisses her, gives her a +red coffer instead of a blue one. Out of it, when it is +opened, issues fire, which consumes both her and her +mother.<a name="FNanchor_181_181" id="FNanchor_181_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_181_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a></p> + +<p>Similar to this story in many of its features as well as +in its catastrophe is one of the most spirited and dramatic +of all the Skazkas, that of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Vasilissa the Fair.</span><a name="FNanchor_182_182" id="FNanchor_182_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_182_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain kingdom there lived a merchant. Twelve years +did he live as a married man, but he had only one child, Vasilissa +the Fair. When her mother died, the girl was eight years +old. And on her deathbed the merchant’s wife called her little +daughter to her, took out from under the bed-clothes a doll, +gave it to her, and said, “Listen, Vasilissa, dear; remember +and obey these last words of mine. I am going to die. And +now, together with my parental blessing, I bequeath to you this +doll. Keep it always by you, and never show it to anybody; and +whenever any misfortune comes upon you, give the doll food, +and ask its advice. When it has fed, it will tell you a cure for +your troubles.” Then the mother kissed her child and died.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +After his wife’s death, the merchant mourned for her a befitting +time, and then began to consider about marrying again. He +was a man of means. It wasn’t a question with him of girls (with +dowries); more than all others, a certain widow took his fancy. +She was middle-aged, and had a couple of daughters of her own +just about the same age as Vasilissa. She must needs be both +a good housekeeper and an experienced mother.</p> + +<p>Well, the merchant married the widow, but he had deceived +himself, for he did not find in her a kind mother for his Vasilissa. +Vasilissa was the prettiest girl<a name="FNanchor_183_183" id="FNanchor_183_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_183_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a> in all the village; but her stepmother +and stepsisters were jealous of her beauty, and tormented +her with every possible sort of toil, in order that she might +grow thin from over-work, and be tanned by the sun and the +wind. Her life was made a burden to her! Vasilissa bore +everything with resignation, and every day grew plumper and +prettier, while the stepmother and her daughters lost flesh and +fell off in appearance from the effects of their own spite, notwithstanding +that they always sat with folded hands like fine +ladies.</p> + +<p>But how did that come about? Why, it was her doll that +helped Vasilissa. If it hadn’t been for it, however could the +girl have got through all her work? And therefore it was that +Vasilissa would never eat all her share of a meal, but always +kept the most delicate morsel for her doll; and at night, when +all were at rest, she would shut herself up in the narrow chamber<a name="FNanchor_184_184" id="FNanchor_184_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_184_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a> +in which she slept, and feast her doll, saying<a name="FNanchor_185_185" id="FNanchor_185_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_185_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a> the while:</p> + +<p>“There, dolly, feed; help me in my need! I live in my +father’s house, but never know what pleasure is; my evil stepmother +tries to drive me out of the white world; teach me how +to keep alive, and what I ought to do.”</p> + +<p>Then the doll would eat, and afterwards give her advice, and +comfort her in her sorrow, and next day it would do all Vasilissa’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +work for her. She had only to take her ease in a shady place +and pluck flowers, and yet all her work was done in good time; +the beds were weeded, and the pails were filled, and the cabbages +were watered, and the stove was heated. Moreover, the +doll showed Vasilissa herbs which prevented her from getting +sunburnt. Happily did she and her doll live together.</p> + +<p>Several years went by. Vasilissa grew up and became old +enough to be married.<a name="FNanchor_186_186" id="FNanchor_186_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_186_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a> All the marriageable young men in the +town sent to make an offer to Vasilissa; at her stepmother’s +daughters not a soul would so much as look. Her stepmother +grew even more savage than before, and replied to every +suitor—</p> + +<p>“We won’t let the younger marry before her elders.”</p> + +<p>And after the suitors had been packed off, she used to beat +Vasilissa by way of wreaking her spite.</p> + +<p>Well, it happened one day that the merchant had to go +away from home on business for a long time. Thereupon the +stepmother went to live in another house; and near that house +was a dense forest, and in a clearing in that forest there stood +a hut,<a name="FNanchor_187_187" id="FNanchor_187_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_187_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a> and in the hut there lived a Baba Yaga. She never let +any one come near her dwelling, and she ate up people like so +many chickens.</p> + +<p>Having moved into the new abode, the merchant’s wife kept +sending her hated Vasilissa into the forest on one pretence or +another. But the girl always got home safe and sound; the +doll used to show her the way, and never let her go near the +Baba Yaga’s dwelling.</p> + +<p>The autumn season arrived. One evening the stepmother +gave out their work to the three girls; one she set to lace-making, +another to knitting socks, and the third, Vasilissa, to weaving; +and each of them had her allotted amount to do. <ins class="correction" title="By-and-bye in original">By-and-by</ins> +she put out the lights in the house, leaving only one candle +alight where the girls were working, and then she went to bed. +The girls worked and worked. Presently the candle wanted +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +snuffing; one of the stepdaughters took the snuffers, as if she +were going to clear the wick, but instead of doing so, in obedience +to her mother’s orders, she snuffed the candle out, pretending +to do so by accident.</p> + +<p>“What shall we do now?” said the girls. “There isn’t a +spark of fire in the house, and our tasks are not yet done. We +must go to the Baba Yaga’s for a light!”</p> + +<p>“My pins give me light enough,” said the one who was making +lace. “I shan’t go.”</p> + +<p>“And I shan’t go, either,” said the one who was knitting +socks. “My knitting-needles give me light enough.”</p> + +<p>“Vasilissa, you must go for the light,” they both cried out +together; “be off to the Baba Yaga’s!”</p> + +<p>And they pushed Vasilissa out of the room.</p> + +<p>Vasilissa went into her little closet, set before the doll a supper +which she had provided beforehand, and said:</p> + +<p>“Now, dolly, feed, and listen to my need! I’m sent to the +Baba Yaga’s for a light. The Baba Yaga will eat me!”</p> + +<p>The doll fed, and its eyes began to glow just like a couple of +candles.</p> + +<p>“Never fear, Vasilissa dear!” it said. “Go where you’re +sent. Only take care to keep me always by you. As long as I’m +with you, no harm will come to you at the Baba Yaga’s.”</p> + +<p>So Vasilissa got ready, put her doll in her pocket, crossed +herself, and went out into the thick forest.</p> + +<p>As she walks she trembles. Suddenly a horseman gallops +by. He is white, and he is dressed in white, under him is a white +horse, and the trappings of the horse are white—and the day +begins to break.</p> + +<p>She goes a little further, and a second rider gallops by. He +is red, dressed in red, and sitting on a red horse—and the sun +rises.</p> + +<p>Vasilissa went on walking all night and all next day. It was +only towards the evening that she reached the clearing on which +stood the dwelling of the Baba Yaga. The fence around it was +made of dead men’s bones; on the top of the fence were stuck +human skulls with eyes in them; instead of uprights at the gates +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +were men’s legs; instead of bolts were arms; instead of a lock +was a mouth with sharp teeth.</p> + +<p>Vasilissa was frightened out of her wits, and stood still as if +rooted to the ground.</p> + +<p>Suddenly there rode past another horseman. He was black, +dressed all in black, and on a black horse. He galloped up to +the Baba Yaga’s gate and disappeared, just as if he had sunk +through the ground—and night fell. But the darkness did not +last long. The eyes of all the skulls on the fence began to shine +and the whole clearing became as bright as if it had been midday. +Vasilissa shuddered with fear, but stopped where she was, +not knowing which way to run.</p> + +<p>Soon there was heard in the forest a terrible roar. The trees +cracked, the dry leaves rustled; out of the forest came the Baba +Yaga, riding in a mortar, urging it on with a pestle, sweeping +away her traces with a broom. Up she drove to the gate, stopped +short, and, snuffing the air around her, cried:—</p> + +<p>“Faugh! Faugh! I smell Russian flesh!<a name="FNanchor_188_188" id="FNanchor_188_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_188_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a> Who’s there?”</p> + +<p>Vasilissa went up to the hag in a terrible fright, bowed low +before her, and said:—</p> + +<p>“It’s me, granny. My stepsisters have sent me to you for a +light.”</p> + +<p>“Very good,” said the Baba Yaga; “I know them. If you’ll +stop awhile with me first, and do some work for me, I’ll give you +a light. But if you won’t, I’ll eat you!”</p> + +<p>Then she turned to the gates, and cried:—</p> + +<p>“Ho, thou firm fence of mine, be thou divided! And ye, wide +gates of mine, do ye fly open!”</p> + +<p>The gates opened, and the Baba Yaga drove in, whistling as +she went, and after her followed Vasilissa; and then everything +shut to again. When they entered the sitting-room, the Baba +Yaga stretched herself out at full length, and said to Vasilissa:</p> + +<p>“Fetch out what there is in the oven; I’m hungry.”</p> + +<p>Vasilissa lighted a splinter<a name="FNanchor_189_189" id="FNanchor_189_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_189_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a> at one of the skulls which were +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> +on the fence, and began fetching meat from the oven and setting +it before the Baba Yaga; and meat enough had been provided +for a dozen people. Then she fetched from the cellar kvass, +mead, beer, and wine. The hag ate up everything, drank up +everything. All she left for Vasilissa was a few scraps—a crust +of bread and a morsel of sucking-pig. Then the Baba Yaga lay +down to sleep, saying:—</p> + +<p>“When I go out to-morrow morning, mind you cleanse the +courtyard, sweep the room, cook the dinner, and get the linen +ready. Then go to the corn-bin, take out four quarters of wheat, +and clear it of other seed.<a name="FNanchor_190_190" id="FNanchor_190_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_190_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a> And mind you have it all done—if +you don’t, I shall eat you!”</p> + +<p>After giving these orders the Baba Yaga began to snore. But +Vasilissa set the remnants of the hag’s supper before her doll, +burst into tears, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Now, dolly, feed, listen to my need! The Baba Yaga has +set me a heavy task, and threatens to eat me if I don’t do it all. +Do help me!”</p> + +<p>The doll replied:</p> + +<p>“Never fear, Vasilissa the Fair! Sup, say your prayers, and +go to bed. The morning is wiser than the evening!”</p> + +<p>Vasilissa awoke very early, but the Baba Yaga was already up. +She looked out of the window. The light in the skull’s eyes was +going out. All of a sudden there appeared the white horseman, +and all was light. The Baba Yaga went out into the courtyard and +whistled—before her appeared a mortar with a pestle and a broom. +The red horseman appeared—the sun rose. The Baba Yaga +seated herself in the mortar, and drove out of the courtyard, +shooting herself along with the pestle, sweeping away her traces +with the broom.</p> + +<p>Vasilissa was left alone, so she examined the Baba Yaga’s +house, wondered at the abundance there was in everything, and +remained lost in thought as to which work she ought to take to +first. She looked up; all her work was done already. The doll +had cleared the wheat to the very last grain.</p> + +<p>“Ah, my preserver!” cried Vasilissa, “you’ve saved me +from danger!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +“All you’ve got to do now is to cook the dinner,” answered +the doll, slipping into Vasilissa’s pocket. “Cook away, in God’s +name, and then take some rest for your health’s sake!”</p> + +<p>Towards evening Vasilissa got the table ready, and awaited +the Baba Yaga. It began to grow dusky; the black rider appeared +for a moment at the gate, and all grew dark. Only the +eyes of the skulls sent forth their light. The trees began to +crack, the leaves began to rustle, up drove the Baba Yaga. +Vasilissa went out to meet her.</p> + +<p>“Is everything done?” asks the Yaga.</p> + +<p>“Please to look for yourself, granny!” says Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga examined everything, was vexed that there +was nothing to be angry about, and said:</p> + +<p>“Well, well! very good!”</p> + +<p>Afterwards she cried:</p> + +<p>“My trusty servants, zealous friends, grind this my wheat!”</p> + +<p>There appeared three pairs of hands, which gathered up the +wheat, and carried it out of sight. The Baba Yaga supped, went +to bed, and again gave her orders to Vasilissa:</p> + +<p>“Do just the same to-morrow as to-day; only besides that take +out of the bin the poppy seed that is there, and clean the earth +off it grain by grain. Some one or other, you see, has mixed a +lot of earth with it out of spite.” Having said this, the hag turned +to the wall and began to snore, and Vasilissa took to feeding her +doll. The doll fed, and then said to her what it had said the +day before:</p> + +<p>“Pray to God, and go to sleep. The morning is wiser than the +evening. All shall be done, Vasilissa dear!”</p> + +<p>The next morning the Baba Yaga again drove out of the courtyard +in her mortar, and Vasilissa and her doll immediately did +all the work. The hag returned, looked at everything, and cried, +“My trusty servants, zealous friends, press forth oil from the +poppy seed!”</p> + +<p>Three pairs of hands appeared, gathered up the poppy seed, +and bore it out of sight. The Baba Yaga sat down to dinner. +She ate, but Vasilissa stood silently by.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you speak to me?” said the Baba Yaga; “there +you stand like a dumb creature!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> +“I didn’t dare,” answered Vasilissa; “but if you give me +leave, I should like to ask you about something.”</p> + +<p>“Ask away; only it isn’t every question that brings good. +‘Get much to know, and old soon you’ll grow.’”</p> + +<p>“I only want to ask you, granny, about something I saw. As +I was coming here, I was passed by one riding on a white horse; +he was white himself, and dressed in white. Who was he?”</p> + +<p>“That was my bright Day!” answered the Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>“Afterwards there passed me another rider, on a red horse; +red himself, and all in red clothes. Who was he?”</p> + +<p>“That was my red Sun!”<a name="FNanchor_191_191" id="FNanchor_191_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_191_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a> answered the Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>“And who may be the black rider, granny, who passed by +me just at your gate?”</p> + +<p>“That was my dark Night; they are all trusty servants of +mine.”</p> + +<p>Vasilissa thought of the three pairs of hands, but held her +peace.</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you go on asking?” said the Baba Yaga.</p> + +<p>“That’s enough for me, granny. You said yourself, ‘Get +too much to know, old you’ll grow!’”</p> + +<p>“It’s just as well,” said the Baba Yaga, “that you’ve only +asked about what you saw out of doors, not indoors! In my house +I hate having dirt carried out of doors;<a name="FNanchor_192_192" id="FNanchor_192_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_192_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a> and as to over-inquisitive +people—well, I eat them. Now I’ll ask you something. +How is it you manage to do the work I set you to do?”</p> + +<p>“My mother’s blessing assists me,” replied Vasilissa.</p> + +<p>“Eh! eh! what’s that? Get along out of my house, you +bless’d daughter. I don’t want bless’d people.”</p> + +<p>She dragged Vasilissa out of the room, pushed her outside +the gates, took one of the skulls with blazing eyes from the +fence, stuck it on a stick, gave it to her and said:</p> + +<p>“Lay hold of that. It’s a light you can take to your stepsisters. +That’s what they sent you here for, I believe.”</p> + +<p>Home went Vasilissa at a run, lit by the skull, which went out +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> +only at the approach of the dawn; and at last, on the evening +of the second day, she reached home. When she came to the +gate, she was going to throw away the skull.</p> + +<p>“Surely,” thinks she, “they can’t be still in want of a light +at home.” But suddenly a hollow voice issued from the skull, +saying:</p> + +<p>“Throw me not away. Carry me to your stepmother!”</p> + +<p>She looked at her stepmother’s house, and not seeing a light +in a single window, she determined to take the skull in there +with her. For the first time in her life she was cordially received +by her stepmother and stepsisters, who told her that from the +moment she went away they hadn’t had a spark of fire in the +house. They couldn’t strike a light themselves anyhow, and +whenever they brought one in from a neighbor’s, it went out as +soon as it came into the room.</p> + +<p>“Perhaps your light will keep in!” said the stepmother. So +they carried the skull into the sitting-room. But the eyes of the +skull so glared at the stepmother and her daughters—shot forth +such flames! They would fain have hidden themselves, but run +where they would, everywhere did the eyes follow after them. +By the morning they were utterly burnt to cinders. Only Vasilissa +was none the worse.<a name="FNanchor_193_193" id="FNanchor_193_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_193_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a></p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[Next morning Vasilissa “buried the skull,” locked up the house and took up +her quarters in a neighboring town. After a time she began to work. Her doll made +her a glorious loom, and by the end of the winter she had weaved a quantity of linen +so fine that it might be passed like thread through the eye of a needle. In the spring, +after it had been bleached, Vasilissa made a present of it to the old woman with whom +she lodged. The crone presented it to the king, who ordered it to be made into shirts. +But no seamstress could be found to make them up, until the linen was entrusted to +Vasilissa. When a dozen shirts were ready, Vasilissa sent them to the king, and as +soon as her carrier had started, “she washed herself, and combed her hair, and dressed +herself, and sat down at the window.” Before long there arrived a messenger demanding +her instant appearance at court. And “when she appeared before the royal +eyes,” the king fell desperately in love with her.</p> + +<p>“No; my beauty!” said he, “never will I part with thee; thou shalt be my +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> +wife.” So he married her; and by-and-by her father returned, and took up his abode +with her. “And Vasilissa took the old woman into her service, and as for the doll—to +the end of her life she always carried it in her pocket.”]</p></div> + +<p>The puppet which plays so important a part in this +story is worthy of a special examination. It is called in +the original a <i>Kùkla</i> (dim. <i>Kùkolka</i>), a word designating +any sort of puppet or other figure representing either man or +beast. In a Little-Russian variant<a name="FNanchor_194_194" id="FNanchor_194_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_194_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a> of one of those numerous +stories, current in all lands, which commence with the +escape of the heroine from an incestuous union, a priest insists +on marrying his daughter. She goes to her mother’s +grave and weeps there. Her dead mother “comes out from +her grave,” and tells her what to do. The girl obtains from +her father a rough dress of pig’s skin, and two sets of gorgeous +apparel; the former she herself assumes, in the latter +she dresses up three <i>Kuklui</i>, which in this instance were +probably mere blocks of wood. Then she takes her place +in the midst of the dressed-up forms, which cry, one after +the other, “Open, O moist earth, that the fair maiden +may enter within thee!” The earth opens, and all four +sink into it.</p> + +<p>This introduction is almost identical with that prefixed +to the German story of “Allerleirauh,”<a name="FNanchor_195_195" id="FNanchor_195_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_195_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a> except in so far as +the puppets are concerned.</p> + +<p>Sometimes it is a brother, instead of a father, from +whom the heroine is forced to flee. Thus in the story of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +<i>Kniaz Danila Govorila</i>,<a name="FNanchor_196_196" id="FNanchor_196_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_196_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a> Prince Daniel the Talker is bent +upon marrying his sister, pleading the excuse so often given +in stories on this theme, namely, that she is the only maiden +whose finger will fit the magic ring which is to indicate to +him his destined wife. While she is weeping “like a river,” +some old women of the mendicant-pilgrim class come to her +rescue, telling her to make four <i>Kukolki</i>, or small puppets, +and to place one of them in each corner of her room. She +does as they tell her. The wedding day arrives, the marriage +service is performed in the church, and then the bride +hastens back to the room. When she is called for—says +the story—the puppets in the four corners begin to coo.<a name="FNanchor_197_197" id="FNanchor_197_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_197_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a></p> + +<p>“Kuku! Prince Danila!</p> + +<p>“Kuku! Govorila.</p> + +<p>“Kuku! He wants to marry,</p> + +<p>“Kuku! His own sister.</p> + +<p>“Kuku! Split open, O Earth!</p> + +<p>“Kuku! Sister, disappear!”</p> + +<p>The earth opens, and the girl slowly sinks into it. +Twice again the puppets sing their song, and at the end of +its third performance, the earth closes over the head of the +rescued bride. Presently in rushes the irritated bridegroom. +“No bride is to be seen; only in the corners sit the puppets +singing away to themselves.” He flies into a passion, +seizes a hatchet, chops off their heads, and flings them +into the fire.<a name="FNanchor_198_198" id="FNanchor_198_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_198_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +In another version of the same story<a name="FNanchor_199_199" id="FNanchor_199_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_199_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a> a son is ordered +by his parents to marry his sister after their death. They +die, and he tells her to get ready to be married. But she +has prepared three puppets, and when she goes into her +room to dress for the wedding, she says to them:</p> + +<p>“O Kukolki, (cry) Kuku!”</p> + +<p>The first asks, “Why?”</p> + +<p>The second replies, “Because the brother his sister +takes.”</p> + +<p>The third says, “Split open, O Earth! disappear, O sister!”</p> + +<p>All this is said three times, and then the earth opens, +and the girl sinks “into that world.”</p> + +<p>In two other Russian versions of the same story, the +sister escapes by natural means. In the first<a name="FNanchor_200_200" id="FNanchor_200_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_200_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a> she runs +away and hides in the hollow of an oak. In the second<a name="FNanchor_201_201" id="FNanchor_201_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_201_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a> +she persuades a fisherman to convey her across a sea or +lake. In a Polish version<a name="FNanchor_202_202" id="FNanchor_202_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_202_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a> the sister obtains a magic car, +which sinks underground with her, while the spot on which +she has spat replies to every summons which is addressed +to her.<a name="FNanchor_203_203" id="FNanchor_203_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_203_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a></p> + +<p>Before taking leave of the Baba Yaga, we may glance +at a malevolent monster, who seems to be her male counterpart. +He appears, however, to be known in South Russia +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +only. Here is an outline of the contents of the solitary +story in which he is mentioned. There were two old folks +with whom lived two orphan grandchildren, charming little +girls. One day the youngest child was sent to drive the +sparrows away from her grandfather’s pease. While she +was thus engaged the forest began to roar, and out from it +came Verlioka, “of vast stature, one-eyed, crook-nosed, +bristly-headed, with tangled beard and moustaches half an +ell long, and with a wooden boot on his one foot, supporting +himself on a crutch, and giving vent to a terrible +laughter.” And Verlioka caught sight of the little girl and +immediately killed her with his crutch. And afterwards he +killed her sister also, and then the old grandmother. The +grandfather, however, managed to escape with his life, and +afterwards, with the help of a drake and other aiders, he +wreaked his vengeance on the murderous Verlioka.<a name="FNanchor_204_204" id="FNanchor_204_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_204_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a></p> + +<p>We will now turn to another female embodiment of evil, +frequently mentioned in the Skazkas—the Witch.<a name="FNanchor_205_205" id="FNanchor_205_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_205_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a> She so +closely resembles the Baba Yaga both in disposition and +in behavior, that most of the remarks which have been +made about that wild being apply to her also. In many +cases, indeed, we find that one version of a story will allot +to a Baba Yaga the part which in another version is played +by a Witch. The name which she bears—that of <i>Vyed’ma</i>—is +a misnomer; it properly belongs either to the “wise +woman,” or prophetess, of old times, or to her modern representative, +the woman to whom Russian superstition attributes +the faculties and functions ascribed in olden days by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +most of our jurisprudents, in more recent times by a few of +our rustics, to our own witch. The supernatural being who, +in folk-tales, sways the elements and preys upon mankind, +is most inadequately designated by such names as <i>Vyed’ma</i>, +<i>Hexe</i>, or <i>Witch</i>, suggestive as those now homely terms are +of merely human, though diabolically intensified malevolence. +Far more in keeping with the vastness of her powers, +and the vagueness of her outline, are the titles of Baba +Yaga, Lamia, Striga, Troll-Wife, Ogress, or Dragoness, +under which she figures in various lands. And therefore it +is in her capacity of Baba Yaga, rather than in that of +<i>Vyed’ma</i>, that we desire to study the behavior of the +Russian equivalent for the terrible female form which +figures in the Anglo-Saxon poem as the Mother of Grendel.</p> + +<p>From among the numerous stories relating to the +<i>Vyed’ma</i> we may select the following, which bears her +name.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Witch.</span><a name="FNanchor_206_206" id="FNanchor_206_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_206_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There once lived an old couple who had one son called +Ivashko;<a name="FNanchor_207_207" id="FNanchor_207_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_207_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a> no one can tell how fond they were of him!</p> + +<p>Well, one day, Ivashko said to his father and mother:</p> + +<p>“I’ll go out fishing if you’ll let me.”</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking about! you’re still very small; suppose +you get drowned, what good will there be in that?”</p> + +<p>“No, no, I shan’t get drowned. I’ll catch you some fish; +do let me go!”</p> + +<p>So his mother put a white shirt on him, tied a red girdle round +him, and let him go. Out in a boat he sat and said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float a little farther,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float a little farther!<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then the canoe floated on farther and farther, and Ivashko +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +began to fish. When some little time had passed by, the old +woman hobbled down to the river side and called to her son:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Ivashechko, <ins class="correction" title="Ivaschechko in original">Ivashechko</ins>, my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Float up, float up, unto the waterside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring thee food and drink.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And Ivashko said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float to the waterside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is my mother calling me.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The boat floated to the shore: the woman took the fish, gave +her boy food and drink, changed his shirt for him and his girdle, +and sent him back to his fishing. Again he sat in his boat and +said:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float a little farther,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float a little farther.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then the canoe floated on farther and farther, and Ivashko +began to fish. After a little time had passed by, the old man +also hobbled down to the bank and called to his son:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%"> +<span class="i0">Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Float up, float up, unto the waterside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring thee food and drink.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And Ivashko replied:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%"> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float to the waterside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is my father calling me.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The canoe floated to the shore. The old man took the fish, +gave his boy food and drink, changed his shirt for him and his +girdle, and sent him back to his fishing.</p> + +<p>Now a certain witch<a name="FNanchor_208_208" id="FNanchor_208_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_208_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a> had heard what Ivashko’s parents had +cried aloud to him, and she longed to get hold of the boy. So +she went down to the bank and cried with a hoarse voice:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Float up, float up, unto the waterside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring thee food and drink.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Ivashko perceived that the voice was not his mother’s, but +was that of a witch, and he sang:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float a little farther,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Canoe, canoe, float a little farther;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That is not my mother, but a witch who calls me.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +The witch saw that she must call Ivashko with just such a +voice as his mother had.</p> + +<p>So she hastened to a smith and said to him:</p> + +<p>“Smith, smith! make me just such a thin little voice as +Ivashko’s mother has: if you don’t, I’ll eat you.” So the smith +forged her a little voice just like Ivashko’s mother’s. Then the +witch went down by night to the shore and sang:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Float up, float up, unto the waterside;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I bring thee food and drink.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Ivashko came, and she took the fish, and seized the boy and +carried him home with her. When she arrived she said to her +daughter Alenka,<a name="FNanchor_209_209" id="FNanchor_209_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_209_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a> “Heat the stove as hot as you can, and bake +Ivashko well, while I go and collect my friends for the feast.” +So Alenka heated the stove hot, ever so hot, and said to Ivashko,</p> + +<p>“Come here and sit on this shovel!”</p> + +<p>“I’m still very young and foolish,” answered Ivashko: “I +haven’t yet quite got my wits about me. Please teach me how +one ought to sit on a shovel.”</p> + +<p>“Very good,” said Alenka; “it won’t take long to teach +you.”</p> + +<p>But the moment she sat down on the shovel, Ivashko instantly +pitched her into the oven, slammed to the iron plate in +front of it, ran out of the hut, shut the door, and hurriedly +climbed up ever so high an oak-tree [which stood close by].</p> + +<p>Presently the witch arrived with her guests and knocked at +the door of the hut. But nobody opened it for her.</p> + +<p>“Ah! that cursed Alenka!” she cried. “No doubt she’s +gone off somewhere to amuse herself.” Then she slipped in +through the window, opened the door, and let in her guests. +They all sat down to table, and the witch opened the oven, took +out Alenka’s baked body, and served it up. They all ate their +fill and drank their fill, and then they went out into the courtyard +and began rolling about on the grass.</p> + +<p>“I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko’s flesh,” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +cried the witch. “I turn about, I roll about, having fed on +Ivashko’s flesh.”</p> + +<p>But Ivashko called out to her from the top of the oak:</p> + +<p>“Turn about, roll about, having fed on Alenka’s flesh!”</p> + +<p>“Did I hear something?” said the witch. “No it was only +the noise of the leaves.” Again the witch began:</p> + +<p>“I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko’s flesh!”</p> + +<p>And Ivashko repeated:</p> + +<p>“Turn about, roll about, having fed on Alenka’s flesh!”</p> + +<p>Then the witch looked up and saw Ivashko, and immediately +rushed at the oak on which Ivashko was seated, and began to +gnaw away at it. And she gnawed, and gnawed, and gnawed, +until at last she smashed two front teeth. Then she ran to a +forge, and when she reached it she cried, “Smith, smith! make +me some iron teeth; if you don’t I’ll eat you!”</p> + +<p>So the smith forged her two iron teeth.</p> + +<p>The witch returned and began gnawing the oak again.</p> + +<p>She gnawed, and gnawed, and was just on the point of +gnawing it through, when Ivashko jumped out of it into another +tree which stood beside it. The oak that the witch had gnawed +through fell down to the ground; but then she saw that Ivashko +was sitting up in another tree, so she gnashed her teeth with +spite and set to work afresh, to gnaw that tree also. She gnawed, +and gnawed, and gnawed—broke two lower teeth, and ran off to +the forge.</p> + +<p>“Smith, smith!” she cried when she got there, “make me +some iron teeth; if you don’t I’ll eat you!”</p> + +<p>The smith forged two more iron teeth for her. She went +back again, and once more began to gnaw the oak.</p> + +<p>Ivashko didn’t know what he was to do now. He looked +out, and saw that swans and geese<a name="FNanchor_210_210" id="FNanchor_210_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_210_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a> were flying by, so he called +to them imploringly:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%"> +<span class="i0">Oh, my swans and geese,</span> +<span class="i0">Take me on your pinions,</span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Bear me to my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the cottage of my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There to eat, and drink, and live in comfort.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Let those in the centre carry you,” said the birds.</p> + +<p>Ivashko waited; a second flock flew past, and he again cried +imploringly:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Oh, my swans and geese!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take me on your pinions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear me to my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the cottage of my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There to eat, and drink, and live in comfort.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>“Let those in the rear carry you!” said the birds.</p> + +<p>Again Ivashko waited. A third flock came flying up, and +he cried:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza" style="font-size: 95%;"> +<span class="i0">Oh, my swans and geese!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Take me on your pinions,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bear me to my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To the cottage of my father and my mother,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There to eat, and drink, and live in comfort.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And those swans and geese took hold of him and carried +him back, flew up to the cottage, and dropped him in the upper +room.</p> + +<p>Early the next morning his mother set to work to bake pancakes, +baked them, and all of a sudden fell to thinking about +her boy. “Where is my Ivashko?” she cried; “would that I +could see him, were it only in a dream!”</p> + +<p>Then his father said, “I dreamed that swans and geese had +brought our Ivashko home on their wings.”</p> + +<p>And when she had finished baking the pancakes, she said, +“Now, then, old man, let’s divide the cakes: there’s for you, +father! there’s for me! There’s for you, father! there’s for +me.”</p> + +<p>“And none for me?” called out Ivashko.</p> + +<p>“There’s for you, father!” went on the old woman, “there’s +for me.”</p> + +<p>“And none for me!” [repeated the boy.]</p> + +<p>“Why, old man,” said the wife, “go and see whatever that +is up there.”</p> + +<p>The father climbed into the upper room and there he found +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> +Ivashko. The old people were delighted, and asked their boy +about everything that had happened. And after that he and +they lived on happily together.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[That part of this story which relates to the baking and eating of the witch’s +daughter is well known in many lands. It is found in the German “Hänsel und +Grethel” (Grimm. <i>KM.</i> No. 15, and iii. p. 25, where a number of parallels are +mentioned); in the Norse “Askelad” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 1. Dasent, “Boots +and the Troll,” No. 32), where a Troll’s daughter is baked; and “Smörbuk” (Asb. +and Moe, No. 52. Dasent, “Buttercup,” No. 18), in which the victim is daughter +of a “Haugkjœrring,” another name for a Troll-wife; in the Servian story of “The +Stepmother,” &c. (Vuk Karajich, No. 35, pp. 174-5) in which two <i>Chivuti</i>, or Jews, +are tricked into eating their baked mother; in the Modern Greek stories (Hahn, No. +3 and ii. p. 181), in which the hero bakes (1) a <i>Drakäna</i>, while her husband, the +<i>Drakos</i>, is at church, (2) a <i>Lamiopula</i>, during the absence of the <i>Lamia</i>, her mother; +and in the Albanian story of “Augenhündin” (Hahn, No. 95), in which the heroine +gets rid in a similar manner of Maro, the daughter of that four eyed <ins class="greek" title="sykieneza">συκιένεζα</ins>. (See +note, ii, 309.) Afanasief also refers (i. p. 121) to Haltrich, No. 37, and Haupt and +Schmaler, ii. pp. 172-4. He also mentions a similar tale about a giantess existing +among the Baltic Kashoubes. See also the end of the song of Tardanak, showing +how he killed “the Seven Headed Jelbegen,” Radloff, i. p. 31.]</p></div> + +<p>A variant of this story (from the Chernigof Government)<a name="FNanchor_211_211" id="FNanchor_211_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_211_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a> +begins by telling how two old people were childless +for a long time. At last the husband went into the forest, +felled wood, and made a cradle. Into this his wife laid +one of the logs he had cut, and began swinging it, crooning +the while a rune beginning</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Swing, blockie dear, swing.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>After a little time “behold! the block already had legs. +The old woman rejoiced greatly and began singing anew, +and went on singing until the block became a babe.” In +this variant the boy rows a silver boat with a golden oar; +in another South Russian variant<a name="FNanchor_212_212" id="FNanchor_212_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_212_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a> the boat is golden, the +oar of silver. In a White-Russian variant quoted by +Afanasief (i. p. 118), the place of the witch’s daughter is +filled by her son, who had been in the habit of alluring to +her den by gifts of toys, and there devouring, the children +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +from the adjacent villages. Buslaef’s “Historical Essays,” +(i. pp. 313-321) contain a valuable investigation of Kulish’s +version of this story, which he compares with the romance +of “The Knight of the Swan.”</p> + +<p>In another of the variants of this story<a name="FNanchor_213_213" id="FNanchor_213_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_213_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a> Ivanushka is +the son of a Baruinya or Lady, and he is carried off in a +whirlwind by a Baba Yaga. His three sisters go to look +for him, and each of them in turn finds out where he is +and attempts to carry him off, after sending the Baba +Yaga to sleep and smearing her eyelids with pitch. But +the two elder sisters are caught on their way home by the +Baba Yaga, and terribly scratched and torn. The youngest +sister, however, succeeds in rescuing her brother, having +taken the precaution of propitiating with butter the cat +Jeremiah, “who was telling the boy stories and singing +him songs.” When the Baba Yaga awakes, she tells +Jeremiah to scratch her eyes open, but he refuses, reminding +her that, long as he has lived under her roof, she has +never in any way regaled him, whereas the “fair maiden” +had no sooner arrived than she treated him to butter. In +another variant<a name="FNanchor_214_214" id="FNanchor_214_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_214_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a> the bereaved mother sends three <ins class="correction" title="servants-maids in original">servant-maids</ins> +in search of her boy. Two of them get torn to +pieces; the third succeeds in saving Ivanushka from the +Baba Yaga, who is so vexed that she pinches her butter-bribed +cat to death for not having awakened her when +the rescue took place. A comparison of these three +stories is sufficient to show how closely connected are the +Witch and the Baba Yaga, how readily the name of either +of the two may be transferred to the other.</p> + +<p>But there is one class of stories in which the <i>Vyed’ma</i> +is represented as differing from the Baba Yaga, in so far +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +as she is the offspring of parents who are not in any way +supernatural or inhuman. Without any apparent cause +for her abnormal conduct, the daughter of an ordinary +royal house will suddenly begin to destroy and devour all +living things which fall in her way—her strength developing +as rapidly as her appetite. Of such a nature—to be +accounted for only on the supposition that an evil spirit +has taken up its abode in a human body<a name="FNanchor_215_215" id="FNanchor_215_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_215_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a>—is the witch +who appears in the somewhat incomprehensible story that +follows.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Witch and the Sun’s Sister.</span><a name="FNanchor_216_216" id="FNanchor_216_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_216_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain far-off country there once lived a king and queen. +And they had an only son, Prince Ivan, who was dumb from +his birth. One day, when he was twelve years old, he went into +the stable to see a groom who was a great friend of his.</p> + +<p>That groom always used to tell him tales [<i>skazki</i>], and on +this occasion Prince Ivan went to him expecting to hear some +stories [<i>skazochki</i>], but that wasn’t what he heard.</p> + +<p>“Prince Ivan!” said the groom, “your mother will soon +have a daughter, and you a sister. She will be a terrible witch, +and she will eat up her father, and her mother, and all their subjects. +So go and ask your father for the best horse he has—as +if you wanted a gallop—and then, if you want to be out of harm’s +way, ride away whithersoever your eyes guide you.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan ran off to his father and, for the first time in his +life, began speaking to him.</p> + +<p>At that the king was so delighted that he never thought of +asking what he wanted a good steed for, but immediately ordered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +the very best horse he had in his stud to be saddled for the +prince.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan mounted, and rode off without caring where he +went.<a name="FNanchor_217_217" id="FNanchor_217_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_217_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a> Long, long did he ride.</p> + +<p>At length he came to where two old <ins class="correction" title="woman in original">women</ins> were sewing +and he begged them to let him live with them. But they said:</p> + +<p>“Gladly would we do so, Prince Ivan, only we have now +but a short time to live. As soon as we have broken that trunkful +of needles, and used up that trunkful of thread, that instant +will death arrive!”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan burst into tears and rode on. Long, long did +he ride. At length he came to where the giant Vertodub was,<a name="FNanchor_218_218" id="FNanchor_218_218"></a><a href="#Footnote_218_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a> +and he besought him, saying:</p> + +<p>“Take me to live with you.”</p> + +<p>“Gladly would I have taken you, Prince Ivan!” replied the +giant, “but now I have very little longer to live. As soon as I +have pulled up all these trees by the roots, instantly will come +my death!”</p> + +<p>More bitterly still did the prince weep as he rode farther and +farther on. By-and-by he came to where the giant Vertogor +was, and made the same request to him, but he replied:</p> + +<p>“Gladly would I have taken you, Prince Ivan! but I myself +have very little longer to live. I am set here, you know, to +level mountains. The moment I have settled matters with these +you see remaining, then will my death come!”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan burst into a flood of bitter tears, and rode on +still farther. Long, long did he ride. At last he came to the +dwelling of the Sun’s Sister. She received him into her house, +gave him food and drink, and treated him just as if he had been +her own son.</p> + +<p>The prince now led an easy life. But it was all no use; he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> +couldn’t help being miserable. He longed so to know what was +going on at home.</p> + +<p>He often went to the top of a high mountain, and thence +gazed at the palace in which he used to live, and he could see +that it was all eaten away; nothing but the bare walls remained! +Then he would sigh and weep. Once when he returned after +he had been thus looking and crying, the Sun’s Sister asked +him:</p> + +<p>“What makes your eyes so red to-day, Prince Ivan?”<a name="FNanchor_219_219" id="FNanchor_219_219"></a><a href="#Footnote_219_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a></p> + +<p>“The wind has been blowing in them,” said he.</p> + +<p>The same thing happened a second time. Then the Sun’s +Sister ordered the wind to stop blowing. Again a third time +did Prince Ivan come back with a blubbered face. This time +there was no help for it; he had to confess everything, and then +he took to entreating the Sun’s Sister to let him go, that he +might satisfy himself about his old home. She would not let +him go, but he went on urgently entreating.</p> + +<p>So at last he persuaded her, and she let him go away to +find out about his home. But first she provided him for the +journey with a brush, a comb, and two youth-giving apples. +However old any one might be, let him eat one of these apples, +he would grow young again in an instant.</p> + +<p>Well, Prince Ivan came to where Vertogor was. There was +only just one mountain left! He took his brush and cast it +down on the open plain. Immediately there rose out of the +earth, goodness knows whence,<a name="FNanchor_220_220" id="FNanchor_220_220"></a><a href="#Footnote_220_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a> high, ever so high mountains, +their peaks touching the sky. And the number of them was +such that there were more than the eye could see!<a name="FNanchor_221_221" id="FNanchor_221_221"></a><a href="#Footnote_221_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a> Vertogor +rejoiced greatly and blithely recommenced his work.</p> + +<p>After a time Prince Ivan came to where Vertodub was, and +found that there were only three trees remaining there. So he +took the comb and flung it on the open plain. Immediately from +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> +somewhere or other there came a sound of trees,<a name="FNanchor_222_222" id="FNanchor_222_222"></a><a href="#Footnote_222_222" class="fnanchor">[222]</a> and forth from +the ground arose dense oak forests! each stem more huge than +the other! Vertodub was delighted, thanked the Prince, and +set to work uprooting the ancient oaks.</p> + +<p>By-and-by Prince Ivan reached the old women, and gave +each of them an apple. They ate them, and straightway became +young again. So they gave him a handkerchief; you only had +to wave it, and behind you lay a whole lake! At last Prince +Ivan arrived at home. Out came running his sister to meet him, +caressed him fondly.</p> + +<p>“Sit thee down, my brother!” she said, “play a tune on the +lute while I go and get dinner ready.”</p> + +<p>The Prince sat down and strummed away on the lute [<i>gusli</i>].</p> + +<p>Then there crept a mouse out of a hole, and said to him in a +human voice:</p> + +<p>“Save yourself, Prince. Run away quick! your sister has +gone to sharpen her teeth.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan fled from the room, jumped on his horse, and +galloped away back. Meantime the mouse kept running over +the strings of the lute. They twanged, and the sister never +guessed that her brother was off. When she had sharpened +her teeth she burst into the room. Lo and behold! not a soul +was there, nothing but the mouse bolting into its hole! The +witch waxed wroth, ground her teeth like anything, and set off +in pursuit.</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan heard a loud noise and looked back. There was +his sister chasing him. So he waved his handkerchief, and a +deep lake lay behind him. While the witch was swimming across +the water, Prince Ivan got a long way ahead. But on she came +faster than ever; and now she was close at hand! Vertodub +guessed that the Prince was trying to escape from his sister. +So he began tearing up oaks and strewing them across the road. +A regular mountain did he pile up! there was no passing by for +the witch! So she set to work to clear the way. She gnawed, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> +and gnawed, and at length contrived by hard work to bore her +way through; but by this time Prince Ivan was far ahead.</p> + +<p>On she dashed in pursuit, chased and chased. Just a little +more, and it would be impossible for him to escape! But Vertogor +spied the witch, laid hold of the very highest of all the mountains, +pitched it down all of a heap on the road, and flung +another mountain right on top of it. While the witch was +climbing and clambering, Prince Ivan rode and rode, and found +himself a long way ahead. At last the witch got across the +mountain, and once more set off in pursuit of her brother. By-and-by +she caught sight of him, and exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“You sha’n’t get away from me this time!” And now she is +close, now she is just going to catch him!</p> + +<p>At that very moment Prince Ivan dashed up to the abode of +the Sun’s Sister and cried:</p> + +<p>“Sun, Sun! open the window!”</p> + +<p>The Sun’s Sister opened the window, and the Prince bounded +through it, horse and all.</p> + +<p>Then the witch began to ask that her brother might be given +up to her for punishment. The Sun’s Sister would not listen +to her, nor would she give him up. Then the witch said:</p> + +<p>“Let Prince Ivan be weighed against me, to see which is the +heavier. If I am, then I will eat him; but if he is, then let him +kill me!”</p> + +<p>This was done. Prince Ivan was the first to get into one of +the scales; then the witch began to get into the other. But no +sooner had she set foot in it than up shot Prince Ivan in the air, +and that with such force that he flew right up into the sky, and +into the chamber of the Sun’s Sister.</p> + +<p>But as for the Witch-Snake, she remained down below on +earth.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[The word <i>terem</i> (plural <i>terema</i>) which occurs twice in this story (rendered the +second time by “chamber”) deserves a special notice. It is defined by Dahl, in its +antique sense, as “a raised, lofty habitation, or part of one—a Boyar’s castle—a +Seigneur’s house—the dwelling-place of a ruler within a fortress,” &c. The “terem +of the women,” sometimes styled “of the girls,” used to comprise the part of a Seigneur’s +house, on the upper floor, set aside for the female members of his family. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> +Dahl compares it with the Russian <i>tyurma</i>, a prison, and the German <i>Thurm</i>. But +it seems really to be derived from the Greek <ins class="greek" title="teremnon">τέρεμνον</ins>, “anything closely shut fast +or closely covered, a room, chamber,” &c.</p> + +<p>That part of the story which refers to the Cannibal Princess is familiar to the +Modern Greeks. In the Syriote tale of “The Strigla” (Hahn, No. 65) a princess +devours her father and all his subjects. Her brother, who had escaped while she was +still a babe, visits her and is kindly received. But while she is sharpening her teeth +with a view towards eating him, a mouse gives him a warning which saves his life. +As in the Russian story the mouse jumps about on the strings of a lute in order to +deceive the witch, so in the Greek it plays a fiddle. But the Greek hero does not +leave his sister’s abode. After remaining concealed one night, he again accosts her. +She attempts to eat him, but he kills her.</p> + +<p>In a variant from Epirus (Hahn, ii. p. 283-4) the cannibal princess is called a +Chursusissa. Her brother climbs a tree, the stem of which she gnaws almost asunder. +But before it falls, a Lamia comes to his aid and kills his sister.</p> + +<p>Afanasief (viii. p. 527) identifies the Sun’s Sister with the Dawn. The following +explanation of the skazka (with the exception of the words within brackets) is given +by A. de Gubernatis (“Zool. Myth.” i. 183). “Ivan is the Sun, the aurora [or +dawn] is his [true] sister; at morning, near the abode of the aurora, that is, in the +east, the shades of night [his witch, or false sister] go underground, and the Sun +arises to the heavens; this is the mythical pair of scales. Thus in the Christian +belief, St. Michael weighs human souls; those who weigh much sink down into hell, +and those who are light arise to the heavenly paradise.”]</p></div> + +<p>As an illustration of this story, Afanasief (<i>P.V.S.</i> iii. +272) quotes a Little-Russian Skazka in which a man, who +is seeking “the Isle in which there is no death,” meets +with various personages like those with whom the Prince +at first wished to stay on his journey, and at last takes up +his abode with the moon. Death comes in search of him, +after a hundred years or so have elapsed, and engages in +a struggle with the Moon, the result of which is that the +man is caught up into the sky, and there shines thenceforth +“as a star near the moon.”</p> + +<p>The Sun’s Sister is a mythical being who is often mentioned +in the popular poetry of the South-Slavonians. A +Servian song represents a beautiful maiden, with “arms of +silver up to the elbows,” sitting on a silver throne which +floats on water. A suitor comes to woo her. She waxes +wroth and cries,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +<span class="i0">Whom wishes he to woo?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The sister of the Sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The cousin of the Moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The adopted-sister of the Dawn.<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Then she flings down three golden apples, which the +“marriage-proposers” attempt to catch, but “three lightnings +flash from the sky” and kill the suitor and his +friends.</p> + +<p>In another Servian song a girl cries to the Sun—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O brilliant Sun! I am fairer than thou,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than thy brother, the bright Moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Than thy sister, the moving star [Venus?].<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>In South-Slavonian poetry the sun often figures as a +radiant youth. But among the Northern Slavonians, as +well as the Lithuanians, the sun was regarded as a female +being, the bride of the moon. “Thou askest me of what +race, of what family I am,” says the fair maiden of a song +preserved in the Tambof Government—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">My mother is—the beauteous Sun,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my father—the bright Moon;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My brothers are—the many Stars,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And my sisters—the white Dawns.<a name="FNanchor_223_223" id="FNanchor_223_223"></a><a href="#Footnote_223_223" class="fnanchor">[223]</a><br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>A far more detailed account might be given of the +Witch and her near relation the Baba Yaga, as well as of +those masculine embodiments of that spirit of evil which +is personified in them, the Snake, Koshchei, and other +similar beings. But the stories which have been quoted +will suffice to give at least a general idea of their moral +and physical attributes. We will now turn from their +forms, so constantly introduced into the skazka-drama, to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +some of the supernatural figures which are not so often +brought upon the stage—to those mythical beings of whom +(numerous as may be the traditions about them) the regular +“story” does not so often speak, to such personifications +of abstract ideas as are less frequently employed to +set its conventional machinery in motion.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_72_72" id="Footnote_72_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> “Songs of the Russian People,” pp. 160-185.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_73_73" id="Footnote_73_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> In one story (Khudyakof, No. 117) there are snakes with twenty-eight and +twenty-nine heads, but this is unusual.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_74_74" id="Footnote_74_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. No. 30. From the Chernigof Government. The accent falls on +the second syllable of Ivan, on the first of Popyalof.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_75_75" id="Footnote_75_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> <i>Popyal</i>, provincial word for <i>pepel</i> = ashes, cinders, whence the surname +Popyalof. A pood is about 40lbs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_76_76" id="Footnote_76_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> On slender supports.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_77_77" id="Footnote_77_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> <i>Pod mostom</i>, +<i>i.e.</i>, says <ins class="correction" title="Afansief in original">Afanasief</ins> (vol. v. p. 243), under the raised flooring +which, in an <i>izba</i>, serves as a sleeping place.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_78_78" id="Footnote_78_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> <i>Zatvelyef</i>, apparently a provincial word.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_79_79" id="Footnote_79_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> The Russian word <i>krof</i> also signifies blood.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_80_80" id="Footnote_80_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> The last sentence of the story forms one of the conventional and meaningless +“tags” frequently attached to the skazkas. In future I shall omit them. Kuzma +and Demian (SS. Cosmas and Damian) figure in Russian folk-lore as saintly and +supernatural smiths, frequently at war with snakes, which they maltreat in various +ways. See A. de Gubernatis, “Zoological Mythology,” vol. ii. p. 397.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_81_81" id="Footnote_81_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Afanasief, Skazki, vol. vii. p. 3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_82_82" id="Footnote_82_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> <i>Chudo</i> = prodigy. <i>Yudo</i> may be a remembrance of Judas, or it may be used +merely for the sake of the rhyme.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_83_83" id="Footnote_83_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> In an Indian story (“Kathásaritságara,” book vii. chap. 42), Indrasena comes +to a place in which sits a Rákshasa on a throne between two fair ladies. He attacks +the demon with a magic sword, and soon cuts off his head. But the head always grows +again, until at last the younger of the ladies gives him a sign to split in half the head +he has just chopped off. Thereupon the demon dies, and the two ladies greet the +conqueror rapturously. The younger is the demon’s sister, the elder is a king’s daughter +whom the demon has carried off from her home, after eating her father and all his +followers. See Professor Brockhaus’s summary in the “Berichte der phil. hist. Classe +der K. Sächs. Gesellschaft der <ins class="correction" title="Wissenchaften in original">Wissenschaften</ins>,” 1861. pp. 241-2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_84_84" id="Footnote_84_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 46.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_85_85" id="Footnote_85_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Afanasief, vol. i. No. 6. From the Chernigof Government. The <i>Norka-Zvyer’</i> +(Norka-Beast) of this story is a fabulous creature, but zoologically the name of Norka +(from <i>nora</i> = a hole) belongs to the Otter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_86_86" id="Footnote_86_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Literally “into <i>that</i> world” as opposed to this in which we live.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_87_87" id="Footnote_87_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> This address is a formula, of frequent occurrence under similar circumstances.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_88_88" id="Footnote_88_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Literally “seated the maidens and pulled the rope.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_89_89" id="Footnote_89_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Some sort of safe or bin.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_90_90" id="Footnote_90_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Khudyakof, ii. p. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_91_91" id="Footnote_91_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> “Kathásaritságara,” bk. vii. c. xxxix. Wilson’s translation.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_92_92" id="Footnote_92_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> Genesis, xxxvii. 3, 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_93_93" id="Footnote_93_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> “Zoological Mythology,” i. 25.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_94_94" id="Footnote_94_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Quoted from the “Nitimanjari,” by Wilson, in his translation of the “Rig-Veda-Sanhita,” +vol. i. p. 142.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_95_95" id="Footnote_95_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> See also Jülg’s “Kalmukische Märchen,” p. 19, where Massang, the Calmuck +Minotaur, is abandoned in the pit by his companions.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_96_96" id="Footnote_96_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 42.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_97_97" id="Footnote_97_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 41. A king’s horses disappear. His youngest son keeps watch +and discovers that the thief is a white wolf. It escapes into a hole. He kills his +horse at its own request and makes from its hide a rope by which he is lowered into the +hole, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_98_98" id="Footnote_98_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> Afanasief, v. 54.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_99_99" id="Footnote_99_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> The word <i>koshchei</i>, says Afanasief, may fairly be derived from <i>kost’</i>, a bone, for +changes between <i>st</i> and <i>shch</i> are not uncommon—as in the cases of <i>pustoi</i>, waste, +<i>pushcha</i>, a wild wood, or of <i>gustoi</i>, thick, <i>gushcha</i>, sediment, etc. The verb <i>okostenyet’</i>, +to grow numb, describes the state into which a skazka represents the realm of +the “Sleeping Beauty,” as being thrown by Koshchei. Buslaef remarks in his “Influence +of Christianity on Slavonic Language,” p. 103, that one of the Gothic words +used by Ulfilas to express the Greek <ins class="greek" title="daimonion">δαιμόνιον</ins> is <i>skôhsl</i>, which “is purely Slavonic, +being preserved in the Czekh <i>kauzlo</i>, sorcery; in the Lower-Lusatian-Wendish, <i>kostlar</i> +means a sorcerer. (But see Grimm’s “Deutsche Mythologie,” pp. 454-5, where +<i>skôhsl</i> is supposed to mean a forest-sprite, also p. 954.) <i>Kost’</i> changes into <i>koshch</i> +whence our Koshchei.” There is also a provincial word, <i>kostit’</i>, meaning to revile or +scold.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_100_100" id="Footnote_100_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> <i>Bezsmertny</i> (<i>bez</i> = without, <i>smert’</i> = death).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_101_101" id="Footnote_101_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Afansief in original">Afanasief</ins>, viii. No. 8. <i>Morevna</i> means daughter of <i>More</i>, (the Sea or any great +water).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_102_102" id="Footnote_102_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> <i>Grom.</i> It is the thunder, rather than the lightning, which the Russian peasants +look upon as the destructive agent in a storm. They let the flash pass unheeded, +but they take the precaution of crossing themselves when the roar follows.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_103_103" id="Footnote_103_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> <i>Zamorskaya</i>, from the other side of the water, strange, splendid.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_104_104" id="Footnote_104_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> In Afanasief, iv. No. 39, a father marries his three daughters to the Sun, the +Moon, and the Raven. In Hahn, No. 25, a younger brother gives his sisters in +marriage to a Lion, a Tiger, and an Eagle, after his elder brothers have refused to do +so. By their aid he recovers his lost bride. In Schott, No. 1 and Vuk Karajich, No. +5, the three sisters are carried off by Dragons, which their subsequently-born brother +kills. (See also Basile, No. 33, referred to by Hahn, and Valjavec, p. 1, Stier, No. +13, and Bozena Nêmcova, pp. 414-432, and a German story in Musæus, all referred +to by Afanasief, viii. p. 662.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_105_105" id="Footnote_105_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_237">Chap. IV</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_106_106" id="Footnote_106_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> “Being by the advice of her father Hæreð given in marriage to Offa, she left off +her violent practices; and accordingly she appears in Hygelác’s court, exercising the +peaceful duties of a princess. Now this whole representation can hardly be other +than the modern, altered, and Christian one of a Wælcyrie or Swan-Maiden; and +almost in the same words the Nibelungen Lied relates of Brynhild, the flashing shield-may +of the Edda, that with her virginity she lost her mighty strength and warlike +habits.”—Kemble’s Beowulf, p. xxxv.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_107_107" id="Footnote_107_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> Khudyakof, ii, p. 90.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_108_108" id="Footnote_108_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. <ins class="correction" title="20o in original">20</ins>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_109_109" id="Footnote_109_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Afanasief, i. No. 14.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_110_110" id="Footnote_110_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 62.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_111_111" id="Footnote_111_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 31.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_112_112" id="Footnote_112_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. No. 24. From the Perm Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_113_113" id="Footnote_113_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> A conventional expression of contempt which frequently occurs in the Skazkas.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_114_114" id="Footnote_114_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> <i>Do <ins class="correction" title="chigunnova in original">chugunnova</ins> kamnya</i>, to an iron stone.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_115_115" id="Footnote_115_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> “<i>Russkaya kost’.</i>” I have translated literally, but the words mean nothing more +than “a man,” “something human.” Cf. Radloff, iii. III. 301.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_116_116" id="Footnote_116_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> <i>Bog prostit</i> = God will forgive. This sounds to the English ear like an ungracious +reply, but it is the phrase ordinarily used by a superior when an inferior asks his +pardon. Before taking the sacrament at Easter, the servants in a Russian household +ask their employers to forgive them for any faults of which they may have been +guilty. “God will forgive,” is the proper reply.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_117_117" id="Footnote_117_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 43.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_118_118" id="Footnote_118_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> <i>Vikhor’</i> (<i>vit’</i> = to whirl), an agent often introduced for the purpose of abduction. +The sorcerers of the present day are supposed to be able to direct whirlwinds, and a +not uncommon form of imprecation in some parts of Russia is “May the whirlwind +carry thee off!” See Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> i. 317, and “Songs of the Russian People,” +p. 382.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_119_119" id="Footnote_119_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> This story is very like that of the “Rider of Grianaig,” “Tales of the West +Highlands,” iii. No. 58.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_120_120" id="Footnote_120_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> Cf. Herodotus, bk. iv. chap. 172.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_121_121" id="Footnote_121_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 44.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_122_122" id="Footnote_122_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 12, p. 67. A popular tradition asserts that the Devil may be +killed if shot with an egg laid on Christmas Eve. See Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> ii. 603.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_123_123" id="Footnote_123_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> Afanasief, i. No. 14, p. 92. For an account of Buyan, see “Songs of the Russian +People,” p. 374.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_124_124" id="Footnote_124_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 6, p. 83.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_125_125" id="Footnote_125_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> Some of these have been compared by Mr. Cox, in his “Mythology of the Aryan +Nations,” i. 135-142. Also by Professor A. de Gubernatis, who sees in the duck the +dawn, in the hare “the moon sacrificed in the morning,” and in the egg the sun. “Zoological +Mythology,” i. 269.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_126_126" id="Footnote_126_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 36, Dasent, No. 9, p. 71.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_127_127" id="Footnote_127_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> Asbjörnsen’s “New Series,” No. 70, p. 39.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_128_128" id="Footnote_128_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a> Haltrich’s “Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande +in <ins class="correction" title="Siebenbügen in original">Siebenbürgen</ins>,” p. 188.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_129_129" id="Footnote_129_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> Wenzig’s “Westslawischer Märchenschatz,” No. 37, p. 190.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_130_130" id="Footnote_130_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> Campbell’s “Tales of the West Highlands,” i. No. 4, p. 81.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_131_131" id="Footnote_131_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> Hahn, No. 26, i. 187.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_132_132" id="Footnote_132_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> Ibid., vol. ii. pp. 215, 294-5.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_133_133" id="Footnote_133_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> Vuk Karajich, No. 8. The monster is called in the Servian text an <i>Ajdaya</i>, a +word meaning a dragon or snake. It is rendered by <i>Drache</i> in the German translation +of his collection of tales made by his daughter, but the word is evidently akin to +the Sanskrit <i>ahi</i>, the Greek <ins class="greek" title="echir echidna">ἐχιρ ἐχιδνα</ins>, the Latin <i>anguis</i>, the Russian <i>ujak</i>, the +Luthanian <i>angis</i>, etc. The Servian word <i>snaga</i> answers to the Russian <i>sila</i>, strength.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_134_134" id="Footnote_134_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days,” pp. 13-16.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_135_135" id="Footnote_135_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> Castren’s “Ethnologische Vorlesungen über die Altaischen Völker,” p. 174.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_136_136" id="Footnote_136_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> The story has been translated by M. de Rougé in the “Revue Archéologique,” +1852-3, p. 391 (referred to by <ins class="correction" title="Professer in original">Professor</ins> Benfey, “Panchatantra,” i. 426) and summarized +by Mr. Goodwin in the “Cambridge Essays” for 1858, pp. 232-7, and by Dr. +Mannhardt in the “Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie,” &c., vol. iv. pp. 232-59. For +other versions of the story of the Giant’s heart, or Koshchei’s death, see Professor R. +Köhler’s remarks on the subject in “Orient und Occident,” ii. pp. 99-103. A singular +parallel to part of the <ins class="correction" title="Egyptain in original">Egyptian</ins> myth is offered by the Hottentot story in which the +heart of a girl whom a lion has killed and eaten, is extracted from the lion, and placed +in a calabash filled with milk. “The calabash increased in size, and in proportion to +this, the girl grew again inside it.” Bleek’s “Reynard the Fox in South Africa,” p. +55. Cf. Radloff, i. 75; ii. 237-8, 532-3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_137_137" id="Footnote_137_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 109.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_138_138" id="Footnote_138_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 110.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_139_139" id="Footnote_139_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 42. See also the <i>Zagovor</i>, or spell, “to give a good youth a +longing for a fair maiden,” (“Songs of the Russian People,” p. 369,) in which “the +Longing” is described as lying under a plank in a hut, weeping and sobbing, and “waiting +to get at the white light,” and is desired to gnaw its way into the youth’s heart.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_140_140" id="Footnote_140_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> For stories about house snakes, &c., see Grimm “Deutsche Mythologie,” p. 650, +and Tylor, “Primitive Culture,” ii. pp. 7, 217-220.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_141_141" id="Footnote_141_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> Or <i>Ujak</i>. Erlenvein, No. 2. From the Tula Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_142_142" id="Footnote_142_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> Grimm, “Deutsche Mythologie,” 456. +For a description of the <ins class="correction" title="Rusalk in original">Rusalka</ins> and the Vodyany, see “Songs of the Russian People,” pp. 139-146.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_143_143" id="Footnote_143_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 23. From the Voroneje Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_144_144" id="Footnote_144_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144_144"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> Three of the well-known servants of Fortunatus. The eater-up (<i>ob’egedat’</i> += to devour), the drinker-up (<i>pit’</i> = to drink, <i>opivat’sya</i>, to drink oneself to death), +and “Crackling Frost.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_145_145" id="Footnote_145_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145_145"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> <i>Opokhmyelit’sya</i>, which may be rendered, “in order to drink off the effects of +the debauch.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_146_146" id="Footnote_146_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146_146"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> The Russian bath somewhat resembles the Turkish. The word here +<ins class="correction" title="traslated in original">translated</ins> “to scrub,” properly means to rub and flog with the soft twig used in the baths for +that purpose. At the end of the ceremonies attended on a Russian peasant wedding, +the young couple always go to the bath.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_147_147" id="Footnote_147_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147_147"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> A sort of pudding or jelly.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_148_148" id="Footnote_148_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148_148"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Afansief in original">Afanasief</ins>, v. No. 28. In the preceding story, No. 27, the king makes no promise. +He hides his children in (or upon) a pillar, hoping to conceal them from a devouring +bear, whose fur is of iron. The bear finds them and carries them off. A horse and +some geese vainly attempt their rescue; a bull-calf succeeds, as in the former case. +In another variant the enemy is an iron wolf. A king had promised his children a +wolf. Unable to find a live one, he had one made of iron and gave it to his children. +After a time it came to life and began destroying all it found, etc. An interesting +explanation of the stories of this class in which they are treated as nature-myths, +is given by A. de Gubernatis in his “Zoological Mythology,” chap. i. +sect. 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_149_149" id="Footnote_149_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149_149"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_150_150" id="Footnote_150_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150_150"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> It has already been observed that the word <i>chudo</i>, which now means a marvel or +prodigy, formerly meant a giant.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_151_151" id="Footnote_151_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151_151"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 6, pp. 30-32. The Russian word <i>idol</i> is identical with our own +adaptation of <ins class="greek" title="eidôlou">ειδωλου</ins>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_152_152" id="Footnote_152_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152_152"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_153_153" id="Footnote_153_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_153_153"><span class="label">[153]</span></a> <i>Zhidenok</i>, strictly the cub of a <i>zhid</i>, a word which properly means a Jew, but is +used here for a devil.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_154_154" id="Footnote_154_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_154_154"><span class="label">[154]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 118.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_155_155" id="Footnote_155_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_155_155"><span class="label">[155]</span></a> <i>Chort</i>, a word which, as has been stated, sometimes means a demon, sometimes +the Devil.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_156_156" id="Footnote_156_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_156_156"><span class="label">[156]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. p. 343.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_157_157" id="Footnote_157_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_157_157"><span class="label">[157]</span></a> “Old Deccan Days,” pp. 34-5. Compare with the conduct of the Cobra’s +daughter that of Angaraka, the daughter of the Daitya who, under the form of a wild +boar, is chased underground by Chandasena. Brockhaus’s “Mährchensammlung des +Somadeva Bhatta,” 1843, vol. i. pp. 110-13.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_158_158" id="Footnote_158_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_158_158"><span class="label">[158]</span></a> “Panchatantra,” v. 10.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_159_159" id="Footnote_159_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_159_159"><span class="label">[159]</span></a> Upham’s “Sacred and Historical Books of Ceylon,” iii. 287.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_160_160" id="Footnote_160_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_160_160"><span class="label">[160]</span></a> Afanasief says (<i>P.V.S.</i> iii. 588), “As regards the word <i>yaga</i> (<i>yega</i>, Polish +<i>jedza</i>, <i>jadza</i>, <i>jedzi-baba</i>, Slovak, <ins class="correction" title="one of these is likely missing an accent in the source text"><i>jenzi</i>, <i>jenzi</i></ins>, <i>jezi-baba</i>, Bohemian, <i>jezinka</i>, Galician +<i>yazya</i>) it answers to the Sanskrit <i>ahi</i> = snake.”</p> + +<p>Shchepkin (in his work on “Russian Fable-lore,” p. 109) says: “<i>Yaga</i>, instead +of <i>yagaya</i>, means properly noisy, scolding, and must be connected with the root +<i>yagat’</i> = to brawl, to scold, still preserved in Siberia. The accuracy of this etymology +is confirmed by the use, in the speech of the common people, of the designation <i>Yaga +Baba</i> for a quarrelsome, scolding old woman.”</p> + +<p>Kastorsky, in his “Slavonic Mythology,” p. 138, starts a theory of his own. +“The name <i>Yaga Baba</i>, I take to be <i>yakaya baba</i>, <i>nycyakaya baba</i>, and I render it +by <i>anus quædam</i>.” Bulgarin (Rossiya, ii. 322) refers the name to a Finnish root. +According to him, “<i>Jagga-lema</i>, in Esthonian, means to quarrel or brawl, <i>jagga-lemine</i> +means quarrelling or brawling.” There is some similarity between the Russian +form of the word, and the Singalese name for a (male) demon, <i>yaka</i>, which is +derived from the Pali <i>yakkho</i>, as is the synonymous term <i>yakseya</i> from the Sanskrit +<i>yaksha</i> (see the valuable paper on Demonology in Ceylon by Dandris de Silva Gooneratne +Modliar in the “Journal of the Ceylon Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society,” +1865-6). Some Slavonic philologists derive <i>yaga</i> from a root meaning to eat (in Russian +<i>yest’</i>). This corresponds with the derivation of the word <i>yaksha</i> contained in +the following legend: “The Vishnu Purāna, i. 5, narrates that they (the Yakshas) +were produced by Brahmā as beings emaciate with hunger, of hideous aspect, and +with long beards, and that, crying out ‘Let us eat,’ they were denominated Yakshas +(fr. <i>jaksh</i>, to eat).” Monier Williams’s “Sanskrit Dictionary,” p. 801. In character +the Yaga often resembles a Rákshasí.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_161_161" id="Footnote_161_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_161_161"><span class="label">[161]</span></a> Afanasief, i. No. 3 b. From the Voroneje Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_162_162" id="Footnote_162_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_162_162"><span class="label">[162]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 60.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_163_163" id="Footnote_163_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_163_163"><span class="label">[163]</span></a> See Grimm, <i>KM.</i> iii. 97-8. Cf. R. Köhler in “Orient und Occident,” ii. 112.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_164_164" id="Footnote_164_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_164_164"><span class="label">[164]</span></a> Grimm, No. 79. “Die Wassernixe.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_165_165" id="Footnote_165_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_165_165"><span class="label">[165]</span></a> Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 14. Dasent, p. 362. “The Widow’s Son.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_166_166" id="Footnote_166_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_166_166"><span class="label">[166]</span></a> Hahn, No. 1.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_167_167" id="Footnote_167_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_167_167"><span class="label">[167]</span></a> Campbell’s “Tales of the West Highlands,” No. 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_168_168" id="Footnote_168_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_168_168"><span class="label">[168]</span></a> Töppen’s “Aberglauben aus Masuren,” p. 146.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_169_169" id="Footnote_169_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_169_169"><span class="label">[169]</span></a> Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days,” p. 63.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_170_170" id="Footnote_170_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_170_170"><span class="label">[170]</span></a> “Kathásaritságara,” vii. ch. xxxix. Translated by Wilson, “Essays,” ii. +137. Cf. Brockhaus in the previously quoted “Berichte,” 1861, p. 225-9. For +other forms, see R. Köhler in “Orient and Occident,” vol. ii. p. 112.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_171_171" id="Footnote_171_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_171_171"><span class="label">[171]</span></a> See, however, Mr. Campbell’s remarks on this subject, in “Tales of the +West Highlands,” i. pp. lxxvii-lxxxi.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_172_172" id="Footnote_172_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_172_172"><span class="label">[172]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. No. 6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_173_173" id="Footnote_173_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_173_173"><span class="label">[173]</span></a> See the third tale, of the “Siddhi Kür,” Jülg’s “Kalm. Märchen,” pp. 17-19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_174_174" id="Footnote_174_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_174_174"><span class="label">[174]</span></a> Schleicher’s “Litauische Märchen,” No. 39. (I have given an analysis of the +story in the “Songs of the Russian People,” p. 101.) In the variant of the story in +No. 38, the comrades are the hero Martin, a smith, and a tailor. Their supernatural +foe is a small gnome with a very long beard. He closely resembles the German +“Erdmänneken” (Grimm, No. 91), and the “Männchen,” in “Der starke Hans” +(Grimm, No. 166.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_175_175" id="Footnote_175_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_175_175"><span class="label">[175]</span></a> Hahn, No. 11. Schleicher, No. 20, &c., &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_176_176" id="Footnote_176_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_176_176"><span class="label">[176]</span></a> Wenzig, No. 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_177_177" id="Footnote_177_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_177_177"><span class="label">[177]</span></a> “Tales of the West Highlands,” ii. p. 15. Mr. Campbell says “I believe +such a mode of torture can be traced amongst the Scandinavians, who once owned +the Western Islands.” But the Gaelic “Binding of the Three Smalls,” is unknown +to the Skazkas.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_178_178" id="Footnote_178_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_178_178"><span class="label">[178]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 3.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_179_179" id="Footnote_179_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_179_179"><span class="label">[179]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 30.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_180_180" id="Footnote_180_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_180_180"><span class="label">[180]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 97.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_181_181" id="Footnote_181_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_181_181"><span class="label">[181]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 14. Erlenvein, No. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_182_182" id="Footnote_182_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_182_182"><span class="label">[182]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. No. 44.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_183_183" id="Footnote_183_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_183_183"><span class="label">[183]</span></a> The first <i>krasavitsa</i> or beauty.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_184_184" id="Footnote_184_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_184_184"><span class="label">[184]</span></a> <i>Chulanchik.</i> The <i>chulan</i> is a kind of closet, generally used as a storeroom for +provisions, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_185_185" id="Footnote_185_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_185_185"><span class="label">[185]</span></a> <i>Prigovarivaya</i>, the word generally used to express the action of a person who +utters a charm accompanied by a gesture of the hand or finger.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_186_186" id="Footnote_186_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_186_186"><span class="label">[186]</span></a> Became a <i>nevyesta</i>, a word meaning “a marriageable maiden,” or “a betrothed +girl,” or “a bride.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_187_187" id="Footnote_187_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_187_187"><span class="label">[187]</span></a> <i>Ishbushka</i>, a little <i>izba</i> or cottage.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_188_188" id="Footnote_188_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_188_188"><span class="label">[188]</span></a> “Phu, Phu! there is a Russian smell!” the equivalent of our own “Fee, faw, +fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman!”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_189_189" id="Footnote_189_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_189_189"><span class="label">[189]</span></a> <i>Luchina</i>, a deal splinter used instead of a candle.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_190_190" id="Footnote_190_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_190_190"><span class="label">[190]</span></a> <i>Chernushka</i>, a sort of wild pea.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_191_191" id="Footnote_191_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_191_191"><span class="label">[191]</span></a> <i>Krasnoe solnuischko</i>, red (or fair) dear-sun.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_192_192" id="Footnote_192_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_192_192"><span class="label">[192]</span></a> Equivalent to saying “she liked to wash her dirty linen at home.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_193_193" id="Footnote_193_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_193_193"><span class="label">[193]</span></a> I break off the narrative at this point, because what follows is inferior in dramatic +interest, and I am afraid of diminishing the reader’s admiration for one of the +best folk-tales I know. But I give an epitome of the remainder within brackets and +in small type.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_194_194" id="Footnote_194_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_194_194"><span class="label">[194]</span></a> From the Poltava <ins class="correction" title="government in original">Government</ins>. Afanasief, vi. No. 28 <i>b</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_195_195" id="Footnote_195_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_195_195"><span class="label">[195]</span></a> Grimm, No. 65. The Wallachian and Lithuanian forms resemble the German +(Schott, No. 3. Schleicher, No. 7). In all of them, the heroine is a princess, who +runs away from an unnatural father. In one of the Modern Greek versions (Hahn, +No. 27), she sinks into the earth. For references to seven other forms of the story, +see Grimm, <i>KM.</i>, iii. p. 116. In one Russian variant (Khudyakof, No. 54), she hides +in a secret drawer, constructed for the purpose in a bedstead; in another (Afanasief, +vi. No. 28 <i>a</i>), her father, not recognising her in the pig-skin dress, spits at her, and +turns her out of the house. In a third, which is of a very repulsive character (ibid. vii. +No. 29), the father kills his daughter.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_196_196" id="Footnote_196_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_196_196"><span class="label">[196]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_197_197" id="Footnote_197_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_197_197"><span class="label">[197]</span></a> The Russian word is <i>zakukovali</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, “They began to cuckoo.” The resemblance +between the word <i>kukla</i>, a puppet, and the name and cry of the cuckoo (<i>Kukushka</i>) +may be merely accidental, but that bird has a marked mythological character. +See the account of the rite called “the Christening of the Cuckoos,” in “Songs of the +Russian people,” p. 215.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_198_198" id="Footnote_198_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_198_198"><span class="label">[198]</span></a> Very like these puppets are the images which reply for the sleeping prince in the +opening scene of “De beiden Künigeskinner” (Grimm, No. 113). A doll plays an important +part in one of Straparola’s stories (Night v. Fable 2). Professor de Gubernatis +identifies the Russian puppet with “the moon, the Vedic Râkâ, very small, but very +intelligent, enclosed in the wooden dress, in the forest of night,” “Zoological Mythology,” +i. 207-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_199_199" id="Footnote_199_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_199_199"><span class="label">[199]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. No. 31.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_200_200" id="Footnote_200_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_200_200"><span class="label">[200]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 55.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_201_201" id="Footnote_201_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_201_201"><span class="label">[201]</span></a> Ibid., No. 83.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_202_202" id="Footnote_202_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_202_202"><span class="label">[202]</span></a> Wojcicki’s “Polnische Volkssagen,” &c. Lewestam’s translation, iii. No. 8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_203_203" id="Footnote_203_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_203_203"><span class="label">[203]</span></a> The germ of all these repulsive stories about incestuous unions, proposed but not +carried out, was probably a nature myth akin to that alluded to in the passage of the +Rigveda containing the dialogue between Yama and Yami—“where she (the night) +implores her brother (the day) to make her his wife, and where he declines her offer +because, as he says, ‘they have called it sin that a brother should marry his sister.’” +Max Müller, “Lectures,” sixth edition, ii. 557.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_204_204" id="Footnote_204_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_204_204"><span class="label">[204]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Afansief in original">Afanasief</ins>, vii. No. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_205_205" id="Footnote_205_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_205_205"><span class="label">[205]</span></a> Her name <i>Vyed’ma</i> comes from a Slavonic root <i>véd</i>, answering to the +<ins class="correction" title="Sanscrit in original">Sanskrit</ins> <i>vid</i>—from which springs an immense family of words having reference to knowledge. +<i>Vyed’ma</i> and <i>witch</i> are in fact cousins who, though very distantly related, closely resemble +each other both in appearance and in character.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_206_206" id="Footnote_206_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_206_206"><span class="label">[206]</span></a> Afanasief, i. No. 4 <i>a</i>. From the <ins class="correction" title="Voronej in original">Voroneje</ins> Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_207_207" id="Footnote_207_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_207_207"><span class="label">[207]</span></a> Ivashko and Ivashechko, are caressing diminutives of Ivan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_208_208" id="Footnote_208_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_208_208"><span class="label">[208]</span></a> “Some storytellers,” says Afanasief, “substitute the word snake (<i>zmei</i>) in +the <ins class="correction" title="Shazka in original">Skazka</ins> for that of witch (<i>vyed’ma</i>).”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_209_209" id="Footnote_209_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_209_209"><span class="label">[209]</span></a> Diminutive of Elena.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_210_210" id="Footnote_210_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_210_210"><span class="label">[210]</span></a> <i>Gusi—lebedi</i>, geese—swans.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_211_211" id="Footnote_211_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_211_211"><span class="label">[211]</span></a> Afanasief, i. No. 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_212_212" id="Footnote_212_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_212_212"><span class="label">[212]</span></a> Kulish, ii. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_213_213" id="Footnote_213_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_213_213"><span class="label">[213]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 53.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_214_214" id="Footnote_214_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_214_214"><span class="label">[214]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Id. in original">Ibid.</ins> No. 52.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_215_215" id="Footnote_215_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_215_215"><span class="label">[215]</span></a> The demonism of Ceylon “represents demons as having <i>human</i> fathers and +mothers, and as being born in the ordinary course of nature. Though born of human +parents, all their qualities are different from those of men. They leave their parents +sometime after their birth, but before doing so, they generally take care to try their +demoniac powers on them.” “Demonology and Witchcraft in Ceylon,” by Dandris +de Silva Gooneratne Modliar. “Journal of Ceylon Branch of Royal Asiatic +Society,” 1865-6, p. 17.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_216_216" id="Footnote_216_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_216_216"><span class="label">[216]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 57. From the Ukraine.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_217_217" id="Footnote_217_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_217_217"><span class="label">[217]</span></a> “Whither [his] eyes look.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_218_218" id="Footnote_218_218"></a><a href="#FNanchor_218_218"><span class="label">[218]</span></a> Vertodub, the Tree-extractor (<i>vertyet’</i> = to twirl, <i>dub</i> = tree or oak) is the German +<i>Baumdreher</i> or <i>Holzkrummacher</i>; <i>Vertogor</i> the Mountain leveller (<i>gora</i> = mountain) +answers to the <i>Steinzerreiber</i> or <i>Felsenkripperer</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_219_219" id="Footnote_219_219"></a><a href="#FNanchor_219_219"><span class="label">[219]</span></a> Why are you just now so <i>zaplakannoi</i> or blubbered. (<i>Zalplakat’</i>, or <i>plakat’</i> = +to cry.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_220_220" id="Footnote_220_220"></a><a href="#FNanchor_220_220"><span class="label">[220]</span></a> <i>Otkuda ni vzyalis.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_221_221" id="Footnote_221_221"></a><a href="#FNanchor_221_221"><span class="label">[221]</span></a> <i>Vidimo—nevidimo</i>, visibly—invisibly.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_222_222" id="Footnote_222_222"></a><a href="#FNanchor_222_222"><span class="label">[222]</span></a> <i>Zashumyeli</i>, they began to produce a <i>shum</i> or noise.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_223_223" id="Footnote_223_223"></a><a href="#FNanchor_223_223"><span class="label">[223]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i>, i. 80-84. In the Albanian story of “The Serpent Child,” +(Hahn, No. 100), the heroine, the wife of the man whom forty snake-sloughs encase, +is assisted in her troubles by two subterranean beings whom she finds employed in +baking. They use their hands instead of shovels, and clean out the oven with their +breasts. They are called “Sisters of the Sun.”</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>MYTHOLOGICAL.</h3> + +<h3><i>Miscellaneous Impersonifications.</i></h3> + + +<p>Somewhat resembling the picture usually drawn of the supernatural +Witch in the Skazkas, is that which some of +them offer of a personification of evil called Likho.<a name="FNanchor_224_224" id="FNanchor_224_224"></a><a href="#Footnote_224_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a> The +following story, belonging to the familiar Polyphemus-cycle, +will serve to convey an idea of this baleful being, who in +it takes a female form.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">One-Eyed Likho.</span><a name="FNanchor_224a_224a" id="FNanchor_224a_224a"></a><a href="#Footnote_224_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there was a smith. “Well now,” says +he, “I’ve never set eyes on any harm. They say there’s evil +(<i>likho</i>)<a name="FNanchor_225_225" id="FNanchor_225_225"></a><a href="#Footnote_225_225" class="fnanchor">[225]</a> in the world. I’ll go and seek me out evil.” So he +went and had a goodish drink, and then started in search of +evil. On the way he met a tailor.</p> + +<p>“Good day,” says the Tailor.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +“Good day.”</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” asks the Tailor.</p> + +<p>“Well, brother, everybody says there is evil on earth. But +I’ve never seen any, so I’m going to look for it.”</p> + +<p>“Let’s go together. I’m a thriving man, too, and have seen +no evil; let’s go and have a hunt for some.”</p> + +<p>Well, they walked and walked till they reached a dark, dense +forest. In it they found a small path, and along it they went—along +the narrow path. They walked and walked along the path, +and at last they saw a large cottage standing before them. It +was night; there was nowhere else to go to. “Look here,” +they say, “let’s go into that cottage.” In they went. There +was nobody there. All looked bare and squalid. They sat +down, and remained sitting there some time. Presently in +came a tall woman, lank, crooked, with only one eye.</p> + +<p>“Ah!” says she, “I’ve visitors. Good day to you.”</p> + +<p>“Good day, grandmother. We’ve come to pass the night +under your roof.”</p> + +<p>“Very good: I shall have something to sup on.”</p> + +<p>Thereupon they were greatly terrified. As for her, she went +and fetched a great heap of firewood. She brought in the heap +of firewood, flung it into the stove, and set it alight. Then she +went up to the two men, took one of them—the Tailor—cut his +throat, trussed him, and put him in the oven.</p> + +<p>Meantime the Smith sat there, thinking, “What’s to be done? +how’s one to save one’s life?” When she had finished her +supper, the Smith looked at the oven and said:</p> + +<p>“Granny, I’m a smith.”</p> + +<p>“What can you forge?”</p> + +<p>“Anything.”</p> + +<p>“Make me an eye.”</p> + +<p>“Good,” says he; “but have you got any cord? I must +tie you up, or you won’t keep still. I shall have to hammer +your eye in.”</p> + +<p>She went and fetched two cords, one rather thin, the other +thicker. Well, he bound her with the one which was thinnest.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> +“Now then, granny,” says he, “just turn over.” She turned +over, and broke the cord.</p> + +<p>“That won’t do, granny,” says he; “that cord doesn’t suit.”</p> + +<p>He took the thick cord, and tied her up with it famously.</p> + +<p>“Now then, turn away, granny!” says he. She turned and +twisted, but didn’t break the cord. Then he took an awl, heated +it red-hot, and applied it to her eye—her sound one. At +the same moment he caught up a hatchet, and hammered away +vigorously with the back of it at the awl. She struggled like +anything, and broke the cord; then she went and sat down at +the threshold.</p> + +<p>“Ah, villain!” she cried. “You sha’n’t get away from me +now!”</p> + +<p>He saw that he was in an evil plight again. There he sat, +thinking, “What’s to be done?”</p> + +<p>By-and-by the sheep came home from afield, and she drove +them into her cottage for the night. Well, the Smith spent the +night there, too. In the morning she got up to let the sheep +out. He took his sheep-skin pelisse and turned it inside out +so that the wool was outside, passed his arms through its +sleeves, and pulled it well over him, and crept up to her as +he had been a sheep. She let the flock go out one at a time, +catching hold of each by the wool on its back, and shoving it +out. Well, he came creeping up like the rest. She caught +hold of the wool on his back and shoved him out. But as +soon as she had shoved him out, he stood up and cried:</p> + +<p>“Farewell, Likho! I have suffered much evil (<i>likha</i>) at your +hands. Now you can do nothing to me.”</p> + +<p>“Wait a bit!” she replied; “you shall endure still more. +You haven’t escaped yet!”</p> + +<p>The Smith went back through the forest along the narrow +path. Presently he saw a golden-handled hatchet sticking in a +tree, and he felt a strong desire to seize it. Well, he did seize +that hatchet, and his hand stuck fast to it. What was to be +done? There was no freeing it anyhow. He gave a look behind +him. There was Likho coming after him, and crying:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +“There you are, villain! you’ve not got off yet!”</p> + +<p>The Smith pulled out a small knife which he had in his +pocket, and began hacking away at his hand—cut it clean off +and ran away. When he reached his village, he immediately +began to show his arm as a proof that he had seen Likho at last.</p> + +<p>“Look,” says he, “that’s the state of things. Here am I,” +says he, “without my hand. And as for my comrade, she’s +eaten him up entirely.”</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">In a Little-Russian variant of this story, quoted by +Afanasief,<a name="FNanchor_226_226" id="FNanchor_226_226"></a><a href="#Footnote_226_226" class="fnanchor">[226]</a> (III. p. 137) a man, who often hears evil or +misfortune (<i>likho</i>) spoken of, sets out in search of it. One +day he sees an iron castle beside a wood, surrounded by a +palisade of human bones tipped with skulls. He knocks at +the door, and a voice cries “What do you want?” “I want +evil,” he replies. “That’s what I’m looking for.” “Evil is +here,” cries the voice. So in he goes, and finds a huge, +blind giant lying within, stretched on a couch of human +bones. “This was Likho (Evil),” says the story, “and around +him were seated Zluidni (Woes) and Zhurba (Care).” Finding +that Likho intends to eat him, the misfortune-seeker +takes to flight. Likho hears the iron doors creak, and cries +to them to stop the fugitive. “But he had already passed +out of doors. Only he lost his right hand, on which the +door slammed: whereupon he exclaimed ‘Here’s misfortune, +sure enough!’”</p> + +<p>The opening of the story of Likho is somewhat similar +to that of one of the tales of Indian origin translated by +Stanislas Julien from the Chinese. Once upon a time, we +are told, a king grew weary of good fortune, so he sent +messengers in search of misfortune. It a certain god sold +to them, in the shape of a sow which devoured a peck of +needles a day. The king’s agents took to worrying his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> +subjects for needles, and brought such trouble upon the +whole kingdom, that his ministers entreated him to have +the beast put to death. He consented, and it was led forth +to die. But neither knife nor axe could penetrate its hide, +so they tried to consume it with fire. After a time it +became red-hot, and then it leaped out from amid the +flames, and dashed about setting fire to all manner of things. +The conflagration spread and was followed by famine, so +that the whole land was involved in ruin.<a name="FNanchor_227_227" id="FNanchor_227_227"></a><a href="#Footnote_227_227" class="fnanchor">[227]</a></p> + +<p>The Polyphemus story has been so thoroughly investigated +by Wilhelm Grimm,<a name="FNanchor_228_228" id="FNanchor_228_228"></a><a href="#Footnote_228_228" class="fnanchor">[228]</a> that there is no occasion to +dwell upon <ins class="correction" title="in in original">it</ins> here. But the following statement is worthy +of notice. The inhabitants of the Ukraine are said still to +retain some recollection of the one-eyed nation of Arimaspians +of whom Herodotus speaks (Bk. IV. c. 27). According +to them the One-Eyes<a name="FNanchor_229_229" id="FNanchor_229_229"></a><a href="#Footnote_229_229" class="fnanchor">[229]</a> dwell somewhere far off, beyond +the seas. The Tartars, during their inroads, used to burn +towns and villages, kill old folks and infants, and carry off +young people. The plumpest of these they used to sell +to cannibals who had but one eye apiece, situated in +the forehead. And the cannibals would drive away their +purchases, like sheep, to their own land, and there fatten +them up, kill them, and eat them. A similar tradition, says +Afanasief (VIII. 260) exists also among the Ural Cossacks.</p> + +<p>While on the subject of eyes, it may be remarked that +the story of “One-Eye, Two-Eyes, and Three-Eyes,” rendered +so familiar to juvenile English readers by translations +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> +from the German,<a name="FNanchor_230_230" id="FNanchor_230_230"></a><a href="#Footnote_230_230" class="fnanchor">[230]</a> appears among the Russian tales in a +very archaic and heathenish form. Here is the outline of a +version of it found in the Archangel Government.<a name="FNanchor_231_231" id="FNanchor_231_231"></a><a href="#Footnote_231_231" class="fnanchor">[231]</a> There +once was a Princess Marya, whose stepmother had two +daughters, one of whom was three-eyed. Now her stepmother +hated Marya, and used to send her out, with nothing +to eat but a dry crust, to tend a cow all day. But “the +princess went into the open field, bowed down before the +cow’s right foot, and got plenty to eat and to drink, and fine +clothes to put on; all day long she followed the cow about +dressed like a great lady—when the day came to a close, she +again bowed down to the cow’s right foot, took off her fine +clothes, went home and laid on the table the crust of bread +she had brought back with her.” Wondering at this, her +stepmother sent her two-eyed stepsister to watch her. But +Marya uttered the words “Sleep, sleep, one-eye! sleep, +sleep, other eye!” till the watcher fell asleep. Then the +three-eyed sister was sent, and Marya by the same spell +sent two of her eyes to sleep, but forgot the third. So +all was found out, and the stepmother had the cow killed. +But Marya persuaded her father, who acted as the butcher, +to give her a part of the cow’s entrails, which she buried +near the threshold; and from it there sprang a bush +covered with berries, and haunted by birds which sang +“songs royal and rustic.” After a time a Prince Ivan heard +of Marya, so he came riding up, and offered to marry +whichever of the three princesses could fill with berries from +the bush a bowl which he brought with him. The stepmother’s +daughters tried to do so, but the birds almost +pecked their eyes out, and would not let them gather the +berries. Then Marya’s turn came, and when she approached +the bush the birds picked the berries for her, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> +and filled the bowl in a trice. So she married the prince, +and lived happily with him for a time.</p> + +<p>But after she had borne him a son, she went to pay a +visit to her father, and her stepmother availed herself of the +opportunity to turn her into a goose, and to set her own +two-eyed daughter in her place. So Prince Ivan returned +home with a false bride. But a certain old man took out +the infant prince afield, and there his mother appeared, +flung aside her feather-covering, and suckled the babe, exclaiming +the while with tears—</p> + +<p>“To-day I suckle thee, to-morrow I shall suckle thee, +but on the third day I shall fly away beyond the dark +forests, beyond the high mountains!”</p> + +<p>This occurred on two successive days, but on the second +occasion Prince Ivan was a witness of what took place, +and he seized her feather-dress and burnt it, and then laid +hold of her. She first turned into a frog, then assumed +various reptile forms, and finally became a spindle. This +he broke in two, and flung one half in front and the other +behind him, and the spell was broken along with it. So he +regained his wife and went home with her. But as for the +false wife, he took a gun and shot her.</p> + +<p>We will now return to the stories in which Harm or +Misery figures as a living agent. To Likho is always attributed +a character of unmitigated malevolence, and a similar +disposition is ascribed by the songs of the people to another +being in whom the idea of misfortune is personified. This +is <i>Goré</i>, or Woe, who is frequently represented in popular +poetry—sometimes under the name of <i>Béda</i> or Misery—as +chasing and ultimately destroying the unhappy victims of +destiny. In vain do the fugitives attempt to escape. If +they enter the dark forest, Woe follows them there; if they +rush to the pot-house, there they find Woe sitting; when +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> +they seek refuge in the grave, Woe stands over it with a +shovel and rejoices.<a name="FNanchor_232_232" id="FNanchor_232_232"></a><a href="#Footnote_232_232" class="fnanchor">[232]</a> In the following story, however, the +gloomy figure of Woe has been painted in a less than +usually sombre tone.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Woe.</span><a name="FNanchor_233_233" id="FNanchor_233_233"></a><a href="#Footnote_233_233" class="fnanchor">[233]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain village there lived two peasants, two brothers: one +of them poor, the other rich. The rich one went away to live +in a town, built himself a large house, and enrolled himself +among the traders. Meanwhile the poor man sometimes had +not so much as a morsel of bread, and his children—each one +smaller than the other—were crying and begging for food. +From morning till night the peasant would struggle, like a fish +trying to break through ice, but nothing came of it all. At last +one day he said to his wife:</p> + +<p>“Suppose I go to town, and ask my brother whether he won’t +do something to help us.”</p> + +<p>So he went to the rich man and said:</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother mine! do help me a bit in my trouble. My +wife and children are without bread. They have to go whole +days without eating.”</p> + +<p>“Work for me this week, then I’ll help you,” said his brother.</p> + +<p>What was there to be done! The poor man betook himself +to work, swept out the yard, cleaned the horses, fetched water, +chopped firewood.</p> + +<p>At the end of the week the rich man gave him a loaf of bread, +and says:</p> + +<p>“There’s for your work!”</p> + +<p>“Thank you all the same,” dolefully said the poor man, +making his bow and preparing to go home.</p> + +<p>“Stop a bit! come and dine with me to-morrow, and bring +your wife, too: to-morrow is my name-day, you know.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother! how can I? you know very well you’ll +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> +be having merchants coming to you in boots and pelisses, +but I have to go about in bast shoes and a miserable old grey +caftan.”</p> + +<p>“No matter, come! there will be room even for you.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, brother! I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>The poor man returned home, gave his wife the loaf, and +said:</p> + +<p>“Listen, wife! we’re invited to a party to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“What do you mean by a party? who’s invited us?”</p> + +<p>“My brother! he keeps his name-day to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! let’s go.”</p> + +<p>Next day they got up and went to the town, came to the rich +man’s house, offered him their congratulations, and sat down on +a bench. A number of the name-day guests were already seated +at table. All of these the host feasted gloriously, but he forgot +even so much as to think of his poor brother and his wife; not +a thing did he offer them; they had to sit and merely look on +at the others eating and drinking.</p> + +<p>The dinner came to an end; the guests rose from table, +and expressed their thanks to their host and hostess; and the +poor man did likewise, got up from his bench, and bowed down +to his girdle before his brother. The guests drove off homewards, +full of drink and merriment, shouting, singing songs. But +the poor man had to walk back empty.</p> + +<p>“Suppose we sing a song, too,” he says to his wife.</p> + +<p>“What a fool you are!” says she, “people sing because +they’ve made a good meal and had lots to drink; but why ever +should you dream of singing?”</p> + +<p>“Well, at all events, I’ve been at my brother’s name-day +party. I’m ashamed of trudging along without singing. If I +sing, everybody will think I’ve been feasted like the rest.”</p> + +<p>“Sing away, then, if you like; but I won’t!”</p> + +<p>The peasant began a song. Presently he heard a voice +joining in it. So he stopped, and asked his wife:</p> + +<p>“Is it you that’s helping me to sing with that thin little +voice?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> +“What are you thinking about! I never even dreamt of +such a thing.”</p> + +<p>“Who is it, then?”</p> + +<p>“I don’t know,” said the woman. “But now, sing away, +and I’ll listen.”</p> + +<p>He began his song again. There was only one person singing, +yet two voices could be heard. So he stopped, and asked:</p> + +<p>“Woe, is that you that’s helping me to sing?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, master,” answered Woe: “it’s I that’s helping you.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, Woe! let’s all go on together.”</p> + +<p>“Very good, master! I’ll never depart from you now.”</p> + +<p>When the peasant got home, Woe bid him to the <i>kabak</i> or +pot-house.</p> + +<p>“I’ve no money,” says the man.</p> + +<p>“Out upon you, moujik! What do you want money for? why +you’ve got on a sheep-skin jacket. What’s the good of that? It +will soon be summer; anyhow you won’t be wanting to wear it. +Off with the jacket, and to the pot-house we’ll go.”</p> + +<p>So the peasant went with Woe into the pot-house, and they +drank the sheep-skin away.</p> + +<p>The next day Woe began groaning—its head ached from +yesterday’s drinking—and again bade the master of the house +have a drink.</p> + +<p>“I’ve no money,” said the peasant.</p> + +<p>“What do we want money for? Take the cart and the +sledge; we’ve plenty without them.”</p> + +<p>There was nothing to be done; the peasant could not shake +himself free from Woe. So he took the cart and the sledge, +dragged them to the pot-house, and there he and Woe drank them +away. Next morning Woe began groaning more than ever, and +invited the master of the house to go and drink off the effects +of the debauch. This time the peasant drank away his plough +and his harrow.</p> + +<p>A month hadn’t passed before he had got rid of everything +he possessed. Even his very cottage he pledged to a neighbor, +and the money he got that way he took to the pot-house.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +Yet another time did Woe come close beside him and say:</p> + +<p>“Let us go, let us go to the pot-house!”</p> + +<p>“No, no, Woe! it’s all very well, but there’s nothing more +to be squeezed out.”</p> + +<p>“How can you say that? Your wife has got two petticoats: +leave her one, but the other we must turn into drink.”</p> + +<p>The peasant took the petticoat, drank it away, and said to +himself:</p> + +<p>“We’re cleaned out at last, my wife as well as myself. Not +a stick nor a stone is left!”</p> + +<p>Next morning Woe saw, on waking, that there was nothing +more to be got out of the peasant, so it said:</p> + +<p>“Master!”</p> + +<p>“Well, Woe?”</p> + +<p>“Why, look here. Go to your neighbor, and ask him to +lend you a cart and a pair of oxen.”</p> + +<p>The peasant went to the neighbor’s.</p> + +<p>“Be so good as to lend me a cart and a pair of oxen for a +short time,” says he. “I’ll do a week’s work for you in return.”</p> + +<p>“But what do you want them for?”</p> + +<p>“To go to the forest for firewood.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, take them; only don’t overburthen them.”</p> + +<p>“How could you think of such a thing, kind friend!”</p> + +<p>So he brought the pair of oxen, and Woe got into the cart +with him, and away he drove into the open plain.</p> + +<p>“Master!” asks Woe, “do you know the big stone on this +plain?”</p> + +<p>“Of course I do.”</p> + +<p>“Well then if you know it, drive straight up to it.”</p> + +<p>They came to the place where it was, stopped, and got out +of the cart. Woe told the peasant to lift the stone; the peasant +lifted it, Woe helping him. Well, when they had lifted it there +was a pit underneath chock full of gold.</p> + +<p>“Now then, what are you staring at!” said Woe to the +peasant, “be quick and pitch it into the cart.”</p> + +<p>The peasant set to work and filled the cart with gold; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> +cleared the pit to the very last ducat. When he saw there was +nothing more left:</p> + +<p>“Just give a look, Woe,” he said; “isn’t there some money +left in there?”</p> + +<p>“Where?” said Woe, bending down; “I can’t see a thing.”</p> + +<p>“Why there; something is shining in yon corner!”</p> + +<p>“No, I can’t see anything,” said Woe.</p> + +<p>“Get into the pit; you’ll see it then.”</p> + +<p>Woe jumped in: no sooner had it got there than the peasant +closed the mouth of the pit with the stone.</p> + +<p>“Things will be much better like that,” said the peasant: +“if I were to take you home with me, O Woeful Woe, sooner +or later you’d be sure to drink away all this money, too!”</p> + +<p>The peasant got home, shovelled the money into his cellar, +took the oxen back to his neighbor, and set about considering +how he should manage. It ended in his buying a wood, building +a large homestead, and becoming twice as rich as his +brother.</p> + +<p>After a time he went into the town to invite his brother and +sister-in-law to spend his name-day with him.</p> + +<p>“What an idea!” said his rich brother: “you haven’t a +thing to eat, and yet you ask people to spend your name-day +with you!”</p> + +<p>“Well, there was a time when I had nothing to eat, but +now, thank God! I’ve as much as you. If you come, you’ll see +for yourself.”</p> + +<p>“So be it! I’ll come,” said his brother.</p> + +<p>Next day the rich brother and his wife got ready, and went +to the name-day party. They could see that the former beggar +had got a new house, a lofty one, such as few merchants had! +And the moujik treated them hospitably, regaled them with all +sorts of dishes, gave them all sorts of meads and spirits to +drink. At length the rich man asked his brother:</p> + +<p>“Do tell me by what good luck have you grown rich?”</p> + +<p>The peasant made a clean breast of everything—how Woe +the Woeful had attached itself to him, how he and Woe had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> +drunk away all that he had, to the very last thread, so that the +only thing that was left him was the soul in his body. How +Woe showed him a treasure in the open field, how he took that +treasure, and freed himself from Woe into the bargain. The +rich man became envious.</p> + +<p>“Suppose I go to the open field,” thinks he, “and lift up the +stone and let Woe out. Of a surety it will utterly destroy my +brother, and then he will no longer brag of his riches before me!”</p> + +<p>So he sent his wife home, but he himself hastened into the +plain. When he came to the big stone, he pushed it aside, and +knelt down to see what was under it. Before he had managed +to get his head down low enough, Woe had already leapt out +and seated itself on his shoulders.</p> + +<p>“Ha!” it cried, “you wanted to starve me to death in here! +No, no! Now will I never on any account depart from you.”</p> + +<p>“Only hear me, Woe!” said the merchant: “it wasn’t I at +all who put you under the stone.”</p> + +<p>“Who was it then, if it wasn’t you?”</p> + +<p>“It was my brother put you there, but I came on purpose to +let you out.”</p> + +<p>“No, no! that’s a lie. You tricked me once; you shan’t +trick me a second time!”</p> + +<p>Woe gripped the rich merchant tight by the neck; the man +had to carry it home, and there everything began to go wrong +with him. From the very first day Woe began again to play +its usual part, every day it called on the merchant to renew his +drinking.<a name="FNanchor_234_234" id="FNanchor_234_234"></a><a href="#Footnote_234_234" class="fnanchor">[234]</a> Many were the valuables which went in the pot-house.</p> + +<p>“Impossible to go on living like this!” says the merchant to +himself. “Surely I’ve made sport enough for Woe! It’s time +to get rid of it—but how?”</p> + +<p>He thought and thought, and hit on an idea. Going into the +large yard, he cut two oaken wedges, took a new wheel, and +drove a wedge firmly into one end of its axle-box. Then he +went to where Woe was:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +“Hallo, Woe! why are you always idly sprawling there?”</p> + +<p>“Why, what is there left for me to do?”</p> + +<p>“What is there to do! let’s go into the yard and play at +hide-and-seek.”</p> + +<p>Woe liked the idea. Out they went into the yard. First +the merchant hid himself; Woe found him immediately. Then +it was Woe’s turn to hide.</p> + +<p>“Now then,” says Woe, “you won’t find me in a hurry! +There isn’t a chink I can’t get into!”</p> + +<p>“Get along with you!” answered the merchant. “Why you +couldn’t creep into that wheel there, and yet you talk about +chinks!”</p> + +<p>“I can’t creep into that wheel? See if I don’t go clean out +of sight in it!”</p> + +<p>Woe slipped into the wheel; the merchant caught up the +oaken wedge, and drove it into the axle-box from the other +side. Then he seized the wheel and flung it, with Woe in it, +into the river. Woe was drowned, and the merchant began to +live again as he had been wont to do of old.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">In a variant of this story found in the Tula Government +we have, in the place of woe, <i>Nuzhda</i>, or Need. The +poor brother and his wife are returning home disconsolately +from a party given by the rich brother in honor +of his son’s marriage. But a draught of water which +they take by the way gets into their heads, and they set +up a song.</p> + +<p>“There are two of them singing (says the story), but +three voices prolong the strain.</p> + +<p>“‘Whoever is that?’ say they.</p> + +<p>“‘Thy Need,’ answers some one or other.</p> + +<p>“‘What, my good mother Need!’</p> + +<p>“So saying the man laid hold of her, and took her down +from his shoulders—for she was sitting on them. And he +found a horse’s head and put her inside it, and flung it into +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +a swamp. And afterwards he began to lead a new life—impossible +to live more prosperously.”</p> + +<p>Of course the rich brother becomes envious and takes +Need out of the swamp, whereupon she clings to him so +tightly that he cannot get rid of her, and he becomes +utterly ruined.<a name="FNanchor_235_235" id="FNanchor_235_235"></a><a href="#Footnote_235_235" class="fnanchor">[235]</a></p> + +<p>In another story, from the Viatka Government, the poor +man is invited to a house-warming at his rich brother’s, +but he has no present to take with him.</p> + +<p>“We might borrow, but who would trust us?” says he.</p> + +<p>“Why there’s Need!” replies his wife with a bitter +laugh. “Perhaps she’ll make us a present. Surely we’ve +lived on friendly terms with her for an age!”</p> + +<p>“Take the feast-day sarafan,”<a name="FNanchor_236_236" id="FNanchor_236_236"></a><a href="#Footnote_236_236" class="fnanchor">[236]</a> cries Need from behind +the stove; “and with the money you get for it buy a +ham and take it to your brother’s.”</p> + +<p>“Have you been living here long, Need?” asks the +moujik.</p> + +<p>“Yes, ever since you and your brother separated.”</p> + +<p>“And have you been comfortable here?”</p> + +<p>“Thanks be to God, I get on tolerably!”</p> + +<p>The moujik follows the advice of Need, but meets with +a cold reception at his brother’s. On returning sadly home +he finds a horse standing by the road side, with a couple of +bags slung across its back. He strikes it with his glove, +and it disappears, leaving behind it the bags, which turn +out to be full of gold. This he gathers up, and then goes +indoors. After finding out from his wife where she has +taken up her quarters for the night, he says:</p> + +<p>“And where are you, Need?”</p> + +<p>“In the pitcher which stands on the stove.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +After a time the moujik asks his wife if she is asleep. +“Not yet,” she replies. Then he puts the same question to +Need, who gives no answer, having gone to sleep. So +he takes his wife’s last sarafan, wraps up the pitcher in it, +and flings the bundle into an ice-hole.<a name="FNanchor_237_237" id="FNanchor_237_237"></a><a href="#Footnote_237_237" class="fnanchor">[237]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the “chap-book” stories (a <i>lubochnaya skazka</i>), +a poor man “obtained a crust of bread and took it home to +provide his wife and boy with a meal, but just as he was +beginning to cut it, suddenly out from behind the stove +jumped Kruchìna,<a name="FNanchor_238_238" id="FNanchor_238_238"></a><a href="#Footnote_238_238" class="fnanchor">[238]</a> snatched the crust from his hands, and +fled back again behind the stove. Then the old man +began to bow down before Kruchìna and to beseech him<a name="FNanchor_239_239" id="FNanchor_239_239"></a><a href="#Footnote_239_239" class="fnanchor">[239]</a> +to give back the bread, seeing that he and his had nothing +to eat. Thereupon Kruchìna replied, “I will not give you +back your crust, but in return for it I will make you a +present of a duck which will lay a golden egg every day,” +and kept his word.<a name="FNanchor_240_240" id="FNanchor_240_240"></a><a href="#Footnote_240_240" class="fnanchor">[240]</a></p> + +<p>In Little-Russia the peasantry believe in the existence +of small beings, of vaguely defined form, called <i>Zluidni</i> +who bring <i>zlo</i> or evil to every habitation in which they +take up their quarters. “May the Zluidni strike him!” is +a Little-Russian curse, and “The Zluidni have got leave for +three days; not in three years will you get rid of them!” +is a White-Russian proverb. In a Little-Russian skazka a +poor man catches a fish and takes it as a present to his rich +brother, who says, “A splendid fish! thank you, brother, +thank you!” but evinces no other sign of gratitude. On +his way home the poor man meets an old stranger and tells +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +him his story—how he had taken his brother a fish and +had got nothing in return but a “thank ye.”</p> + +<p>“How!” cries the old man. “A <i>spasibo</i><a name="FNanchor_241_241" id="FNanchor_241_241"></a><a href="#Footnote_241_241" class="fnanchor">[241]</a> is no small +thing. Sell it to me!”</p> + +<p>“How can one sell it?” replies the moujik. “Take it +pray, as a present!”</p> + +<p>“So the <i>spasibo</i> is mine!” says the old man, and disappears, +leaving in the peasant’s hands a purse full of +gold.</p> + +<p>The peasant grows rich, and moves into another house. +After a time his wife says to him—</p> + +<p>“We’ve been wrong, Ivan, in leaving our mill-stones in +the old house. They nourished us, you see, when we were +poor; but now, when they’re no longer necessary to us, +we’ve quite forgotten them!”</p> + +<p>“Right you are,” replies Ivan, and sets off to fetch them. +When he reaches his old dwelling, he hears a voice saying—</p> + +<p>“A bad fellow, that Ivan! now he’s rich, he’s abandoned +us!”</p> + +<p>“Who are you?” asks Ivan. “I don’t know you a +bit.”</p> + +<p>“Not know us! you’ve forgotten our faithful service, +it seems! Why, we’re your Zluidni!”</p> + +<p>“God be with you!” says he. “I don’t want you!”</p> + +<p>“No, no! we will never part from you now!”</p> + +<p>“Wait a bit!” thinks Ivan, and then continues aloud, +“Very good, I’ll take you; but only on condition that you +bring home my mill-stones for me.”</p> + +<p>So he laid the mill-stones on their backs, and made +them go on in front of him. They all had to pass along +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +a bridge over a deep river; the moujik managed to give +the Zluidni a shove, and over they went, mill-stones and +all, and sank straight to the bottom.<a name="FNanchor_242_242" id="FNanchor_242_242"></a><a href="#Footnote_242_242" class="fnanchor">[242]</a></p> + +<p>There is a very curious Servian story of two brothers, +one of whom is industrious and unlucky, and the other +idle and prosperous. The poor brother one day sees a +flock of sheep, and near them a fair maiden spinning a +golden thread.</p> + +<p>“Whose sheep are these?” he asks.</p> + +<p>“The sheep are his whose I myself am,” she replies.</p> + +<p>“And whose art thou?” he asks.</p> + +<p>“I am thy brother’s Luck,” she answers.</p> + +<p>“But where is my Luck?” he continues</p> + +<p>“Far away from thee is thy Luck,” she replies.</p> + +<p>“But can I find her?” he asks.</p> + +<p>“Thou canst; go and seek her,” she replies.</p> + +<p>So the poor man wanders away in search of her. One +day he sees a grey-haired old woman asleep under an oak +in a great forest, who proves to be his Luck. He asks +who it is that has given him such a poor Luck, and is told +that it is Fate. So he goes in search of Fate. When he +finds her, she is living at ease in a large house, but day +by day her riches wane and her house contracts. She +explains to her visitor that her condition at any given hour +affects the whole lives of all children born at that time, +and that he had come into the world at a most unpropitious +moment; and she advises him to take his niece Militsa +(who had been born at a lucky time) to live in his house, +and to call all he might acquire her property. This advice +he follows, and all goes well with him. One day, as he is +gazing at a splendid field of corn, a stranger asks him to +whom it belongs. In a forgetful moment he replies, “It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> +is mine,” and immediately the whole crop begins to burn. +He runs after the stranger and cries, “Stop, brother! that +field isn’t mine, but my niece Militsa’s,” whereupon the +fire goes out and the crop is saved.<a name="FNanchor_243_243" id="FNanchor_243_243"></a><a href="#Footnote_243_243" class="fnanchor">[243]</a></p> + +<p>On this idea of a personal Fortune is founded the +quaint opening of one of the Russian stories. A certain +peasant, known as Ivan the Unlucky, in despair at his +constant want of success, goes to the king for advice. +The king lays the matter before “his nobles and generals,” +but they can make nothing of it. At last the king’s +daughter enters the council chamber and says, “This is +my opinion, my father. If he were to be married, the +Lord might allot him another sort of Fortune.” The king +flies into a passion and exclaims:</p> + +<p>“Since you’ve settled the question better than all of +us, go and marry him yourself!”</p> + +<p>The marriage takes place, and brings Ivan good luck +along with it.<a name="FNanchor_244_244" id="FNanchor_244_244"></a><a href="#Footnote_244_244" class="fnanchor">[244]</a></p> + +<p>Similar references to a man’s good or bad luck frequently +occur in the skazkas. Thus in one of them (from +the Grodno Government) a poor man meets “two ladies +(<i>pannui</i>), and those ladies are—the one Fortune and the +other Misfortune.”<a name="FNanchor_245_245" id="FNanchor_245_245"></a><a href="#Footnote_245_245" class="fnanchor">[245]</a> He tells them how poor he is, and +they agree that it will be well to bestow something on him. +“Since he is one of yours,” says Luck, “do you make +him a present.” At length they take out ten roubles and +give them to him. He hides the money in a pot, and his +wife gives it away to a neighbor. Again they assist him, +giving him twenty roubles, and again his wife gives them +away unwittingly. Then the ladies bestow on him two +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +farthings (<i>groshi</i>), telling him to give them to fishermen, and +bid them make a cast “for his luck.” He obeys, and the +result is the capture of a fish which brings him in wealth.<a name="FNanchor_246_246" id="FNanchor_246_246"></a><a href="#Footnote_246_246" class="fnanchor">[246]</a></p> + +<p>In another story<a name="FNanchor_247_247" id="FNanchor_247_247"></a><a href="#Footnote_247_247" class="fnanchor">[247]</a> a young man, the son of a wealthy +merchant, is so unlucky that nothing will prosper with him. +Having lost all that his father has left him, he hires himself +out, first as a laborer, then as a herdsman. But as, in +each capacity, he involves his masters in heavy losses, he +soon finds himself without employment. Then he tries +another country, in which the king gives him a post as a +sort of stoker in the royal distillery, which he soon all but +burns down. The king is at first bent upon punishing +him, but pardons him after hearing his sad tale. “He +bestowed on him the name of Luckless,<a name="FNanchor_248_248" id="FNanchor_248_248"></a><a href="#Footnote_248_248" class="fnanchor">[248]</a> and gave orders +that a stamp should be set on his forehead, that no tolls +or taxes should be demanded from him, and that wherever +he appeared he should be given free board and lodging, +but that he should never be allowed to stop more than +twenty-four hours in any one place.” These orders are +obeyed, and wherever Luckless goes, “nobody ever asks +him for his billet or his passport, but they give him food +to eat, and liquor to drink, and a place to spend the night +in; and next morning they take him by the scruff of the +neck and turn him out of doors.”<a name="FNanchor_249_249" id="FNanchor_249_249"></a><a href="#Footnote_249_249" class="fnanchor">[249]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +We will now turn from the forms under which popular +fiction has embodied some of the ideas connected with +Fortune and Misfortune, to another strange group of figures—the +personifications of certain days of the week. Of +these, by far the most important is that of Friday.</p> + +<p>The Russian name for that day, <i>Pyatnitsa</i>,<a name="FNanchor_250_250" id="FNanchor_250_250"></a><a href="#Footnote_250_250" class="fnanchor">[250]</a> has no +such mythological significance as have our own Friday and +the French <i>Vendredi</i>. But the day was undoubtedly consecrated +by the old Slavonians to some goddess akin to +Venus or Freyja, and her worship in ancient times accounts +for the superstitions now connected with the name of +Friday. According to Afanasief,<a name="FNanchor_251_251" id="FNanchor_251_251"></a><a href="#Footnote_251_251" class="fnanchor">[251]</a> the Carinthian name +for the day, <i>Sibne dan</i>, is a clear proof that it was once +holy to Siva, the Lithuanian Seewa, the Slavonic goddess +answering to Ceres. In Christian times the personality of +the goddess (by whatever name she may have been known) +to whom Friday was consecrated became merged in that +of St. Prascovia, and she is now frequently addressed by +the compound name of “Mother Pyatnitsa-Prascovia.” +As she is supposed to wander about the houses of the +peasants on her holy day, and to be offended if she finds +certain kinds of work going on, they are (or at least they +used to be) frequently suspended on Fridays. It is a sin, +says a time-honored tradition, for a woman to sew, or spin, +or weave, or buck linen on a Friday, and similarly for a +man to plait bast shoes, twine cord, and the like. Spinning +and weaving are especially obnoxious to “Mother +Friday,” for the dust and refuse thus produced injure her +eyes. When this takes place, she revenges herself by +plagues of sore-eyes, whitlows and agnails. In some +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +places the villagers go to bed early on Friday evening, +believing that “St. Pyatinka” will punish all whom she +finds awake when she roams through the cottage. In +others they sweep their floors every Thursday evening, +that she may not be annoyed by dust or the like when she +comes next day. Sometimes, however, she has been seen, +says the popular voice, “all pricked with the needles and +pierced by the spindles” of the careless woman who sewed +and spun on the day they ought to have kept holy in her +honor. As for any work begun on a Friday, it is sure to +go wrong.<a name="FNanchor_252_252" id="FNanchor_252_252"></a><a href="#Footnote_252_252" class="fnanchor">[252]</a></p> + +<p>These remarks will be sufficient to render intelligible +the following story of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Friday.</span><a name="FNanchor_253_253" id="FNanchor_253_253"></a><a href="#Footnote_253_253" class="fnanchor">[253]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was once a certain woman who did not pay due reverence +to Mother Friday, but set to work on a distaff-ful of flax, +combing and whirling it. She span away till dinner-time, then +suddenly sleep fell upon her—such a deep sleep! And when +she had gone to sleep, suddenly the door opened and in came +Mother Friday, before the eyes of all who were there, clad in a +white dress, and in such a rage! And she went straight up to +the woman who had been spinning, scooped up from the floor a +handful of the dust that had fallen out of the flax, and began stuffing +and stuffing that woman’s eyes full of it! And when she had +stuffed them full, she went off in a rage—disappeared without +saying a word.</p> + +<p>When the woman awoke, she began squalling at the top of +her voice about her eyes, but couldn’t tell what was the matter +with them. The other women, who had been terribly frightened, +began to cry out:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +“Oh, you wretch, you! you’ve brought a terrible punishment +on yourself from Mother Friday.”</p> + +<p>Then they told her all that had taken place. She listened to +it all, and then began imploringly:</p> + +<p>“Mother Friday, forgive me! pardon me, the guilty one! +I’ll offer thee a taper, and I’ll never let friend or foe dishonor +thee, Mother!”</p> + +<p>Well, what do you think? During the night, back came +Mother Friday and took the dust out of that woman’s eyes, so +that she was able to get about again. It’s a great sin to dishonor +Mother Friday—combing and spinning flax, forsooth!</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Very similar to this story is that about Wednesday +which follows. Wednesday, the day consecrated to Odin, +the eve of the day sacred to the Thundergod,<a name="FNanchor_254_254" id="FNanchor_254_254"></a><a href="#Footnote_254_254" class="fnanchor">[254]</a> may also +have been held holy by the heathen Slavonians, but to some +commentators it appears more likely that the traditions now +attached to it in Russia became transferred to it from +Friday in Christian times—Wednesday and Friday having +been associated by the Church as days sacred to the memory +of Our Lord’s passion and death. The Russian name +for the day, <i>Sereda</i> or <i>Sreda</i>, means “the middle,” Wednesday +being the middle of the working week.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Wednesday.</span><a name="FNanchor_255_255" id="FNanchor_255_255"></a><a href="#Footnote_255_255" class="fnanchor">[255]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A young housewife was spinning late one evening. It was during +the night between a Tuesday and a Wednesday. She had +been left alone for a long time, and after midnight, when the +first cock crew, she began to think about going to bed, only she +would have liked to finish spinning what she had in hand. “Well,” +thinks she, “I’ll get up a bit earlier in the morning, but just +now I want to go to sleep.” So she laid down her hatchel—but +without crossing herself—and said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> +“Now then, Mother Wednesday, lend me thy aid, that I may +get up early in the morning and finish my spinning.” And then +she went to sleep.</p> + +<p>Well, very early in the morning, long before it was light, she +heard someone moving, bustling about the room. She opened +her eyes and looked. The room was lighted up. A splinter of +fir was burning in the cresset, and the fire was lighted in the +stove. A woman, no longer young, wearing a white towel by +way of head-dress, was moving about the cottage, going to and +fro, supplying the stove with firewood, getting everything ready. +Presently she came up to the young woman, and roused her, saying, +“Get up!” The young woman got up, full of wonder, saying:</p> + +<p>“But who art thou? What hast thou come here for?”</p> + +<p>“I am she on whom thou didst call. I have come to thy aid.”</p> + +<p>“But who art thou? On whom did I call?”</p> + +<p>“I am Wednesday. On Wednesday surely thou didst call. +See, I have spun thy linen and woven thy web: now let us bleach +it and set it in the oven. The oven is heated and the irons are +ready; do thou go down to the brook and draw water.”</p> + +<p>The woman was frightened, and thought: “What manner of +thing is this?” (or, “How can that be?”) but Wednesday glared +at her angrily; her eyes just did sparkle!</p> + +<p>So the woman took a couple of pails and went for water. As +soon as she was outside the door she thought: “Mayn’t something +terrible happen to me? I’d better go to my neighbor’s instead +of fetching the water.” So she set off. The night was +dark. In the village all were still asleep. She reached a neighbor’s +house, and rapped away at the window until at last she +made herself heard. An aged woman let her in.</p> + +<p>“Why, child!” says the old crone; “whatever hast thou got +up so early for? What’s the matter?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, granny, this is how it was. Wednesday has come to me, +and has sent me for water to buck my linen with.”</p> + +<p>“That doesn’t look well,” says the old crone. “On that linen +she will either strangle thee or scald<a name="FNanchor_256_256" id="FNanchor_256_256"></a><a href="#Footnote_256_256" class="fnanchor">[256]</a> thee.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> +The old woman was evidently well acquainted with Wednesday’s +ways.</p> + +<p>“What am I to do?” says the young woman. “How can I +escape from this danger?”</p> + +<p>“Well, this is what thou must do. Go and beat thy pails together +in front of the house, and cry, ‘Wednesday’s children +have been burnt at sea!’<a name="FNanchor_257_257" id="FNanchor_257_257"></a><a href="#Footnote_257_257" class="fnanchor">[257]</a> She will run out of the house, and +do thou be sure to seize the opportunity to get into it before she +comes back, and immediately slam the door to, and make the +sign of the cross over it. Then don’t let her in, however much +she may threaten you or implore you, but sign a cross with your +hands, and draw one with a piece of chalk, and utter a prayer. +The Unclean Spirit will have to disappear.”</p> + +<p>Well, the young woman ran home, beat the pails together, +and cried out beneath the window:</p> + +<p>“Wednesday’s children have been burnt at sea!”</p> + +<p>Wednesday rushed out of the house and ran to look, and the +woman sprang inside, shut the door, and set a cross upon it. +Wednesday came running back, and began crying: “Let me in, +my dear! I have spun thy linen; now will I bleach it.” But the +woman would not listen to her, so Wednesday went on knocking +at the door until cock-crow. As soon as the cocks crew, she +uttered a shrill cry and disappeared. But the linen remained +where it was.<a name="FNanchor_258_258" id="FNanchor_258_258"></a><a href="#Footnote_258_258" class="fnanchor">[258]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span> +In one of the numerous legends which the Russian +peasants hold in reverence, St. Petka or Friday appears +among the other saints, and together with her is mentioned +another canonized day, St. Nedélya or Sunday,<a name="FNanchor_259_259" id="FNanchor_259_259"></a><a href="#Footnote_259_259" class="fnanchor">[259]</a> answering +to the Greek St. Anastasia, to <i>Der heilige Sonntag</i> of German +peasant-hagiology. In some respects she resembles both +Friday and Wednesday, sharing their views about spinning +and weaving at unfitting seasons. Thus in Little-Russia she +assures untimely spinners that it is not flax they are spinning, +but her hair, and in proof of this she shows them her +dishevelled <i>kosa</i>, or long back plait.</p> + +<p>In one of the Wallachian tales<a name="FNanchor_260_260" id="FNanchor_260_260"></a><a href="#Footnote_260_260" class="fnanchor">[260]</a> the hero is assisted in +his search after the dragon-stolen heroine by three supernatural +females—the holy Mothers Friday, Wednesday, and +Sunday. They replace the three benignant Baba Yagas of +Russian stories. In another,<a name="FNanchor_261_261" id="FNanchor_261_261"></a><a href="#Footnote_261_261" class="fnanchor">[261]</a> the same three beings assist +the Wallachian Psyche when she is wandering in quest of +her lost husband. Mother Sunday rules the animal world, +and can collect her subjects by playing on a magic flute. +She is represented as exercising authority over both birds +and beasts, and in a Slovak story she bestows on the hero +a magic horse. He has been sent by an unnatural mother +in search of various things hard to be obtained, but he is +assisted in the quest by St. Nedĕlka, who provides him with +various magical implements, and lends him her own steed +Tatoschik, and so enables him four times to escape from +the perils to which he has been exposed by his mother, +whose mind has been entirely corrupted by an insidious +dragon. But after he has returned home in safety, his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> +mother binds him as if in sport, and the dragon chops off +his head and cuts his body to pieces. His mother retains +his heart, but ties up the rest of him in a bundle, and sets +it on Tatoschik’s back. The steed carries its ghastly +burden to St. Nedĕlka, who soon reanimates it, and the +youth becomes as sound and vigorous as a young man without +a heart can be. Then the saint sends him, under the +disguise of a begging piper, to the castle in which his mother +dwells, and instructs him how to get his heart back again. +He succeeds, and carries it in his hand to St. Nedĕlka. +She gives it to “the bird Pelekan (no mere Pelican, but a +magic fowl with a very long and slim neck), which puts its +head down the youth’s throat, and restores his heart to its +right place.”<a name="FNanchor_262_262" id="FNanchor_262_262"></a><a href="#Footnote_262_262" class="fnanchor">[262]</a></p> + +<p>St. Friday and St. Wednesday appear to belong to +that class of spiritual beings, sometimes of a demoniacal +disposition, with which the imagination of the old Slavonians +peopled the elements. Of several of these—such as +the Domovoy or House-Spirit, the Rusalka or Naiad, and +the Vodyany or Water-Sprite—I have written at some +length elsewhere,<a name="FNanchor_263_263" id="FNanchor_263_263"></a><a href="#Footnote_263_263" class="fnanchor">[263]</a> and therefore I will not at present +quote any of the stories in which they figure. But, as a +specimen of the class to which such tales as these belong, +here is a skazka about one of the wood-sprites or Slavonic +Satyrs, who are still believed by the peasants to haunt the +forests of Russia. In it we see reduced to a vulgar form, +and brought into accordance with everyday peasant-life, +the myth which appears to have given rise to the endless +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> +stories about the theft and recovery of queens and princesses. +The leading idea of the story is the same, but +the Snake or Koshchei has become a paltry wood-demon, +the hero is a mere hunter, and the princely heroine has +sunk to the low estate of a priest’s daughter.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Léshy.</span><a name="FNanchor_264_264" id="FNanchor_264_264"></a><a href="#Footnote_264_264" class="fnanchor">[264]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A certain priest’s daughter went strolling in the forest one day, +without having obtained leave from her father or her mother—and +she disappeared utterly. Three years went by. Now in +the village in which her parents dwelt there lived a bold hunter, +who went daily roaming through the thick woods with his dog and +his gun. One day he was going through the forest; all of a sudden +his dog began to bark, and the hair of its back bristled up. +The sportsman looked, and saw lying in the woodland path before +him a log, and on the log there sat a moujik <ins class="correction" title="plating in original">plaiting</ins> a bast +shoe. And as he plaited the shoe, he kept looking up at the +moon, and saying with a menacing gesture:—</p> + +<p>“Shine, shine, O bright moon!”</p> + +<p>The sportsman was astounded. “How comes it,” thinks he, +“that the moujik looks like that?—he is still young; but his +hair is grey as a badger’s.”<a name="FNanchor_265_265" id="FNanchor_265_265"></a><a href="#Footnote_265_265" class="fnanchor">[265]</a></p> + +<p>He only thought these words, but the other replied, as if +guessing what he meant:—</p> + +<p>“Grey am I, being the devil’s grandfather!”<a name="FNanchor_266_266" id="FNanchor_266_266"></a><a href="#Footnote_266_266" class="fnanchor">[266]</a></p> + +<p>Then the sportsman guessed that he had before him no mere +moujik, but a Léshy. He levelled his gun and—bang! he let +him have it right in the paunch. The Léshy groaned, and +seemed to be going to fall across the log; but directly afterwards +he got up and dragged himself into the thickets. After +him ran the dog in pursuit, and after the dog followed the sportsman. +He walked and walked, and came to a hill: in that hill +was a fissure, and in the fissure stood a hut. He entered the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +hut—there on a bench lay the Léshy stone dead, and by his +side a damsel, exclaiming, amid bitter tears:—</p> + +<p>“Who now will give me to eat and to drink?”</p> + +<p>“Hail, fair maiden!” says the hunter. “Tell me whence +thou comest, and whose daughter thou art?”</p> + +<p>“Ah, good youth! I know not that myself, any more than if +I had never seen the free light—never known a father and +mother.”</p> + +<p>“Well, get ready as soon as you can. I will take you back +to Holy Russia.”</p> + +<p>So he took her away with him, and brought her out of the +forest. And all the way he went along, he cut marks on the +trees. Now this damsel had been carried off by the Léshy, and +had lived in his hut for three years—her clothes were all worn +out, or had got torn off her back, so that she was stark naked +but she wasn’t a bit ashamed of that. When they reached the +village, the sportsman began asking whether there was any one +there who had lost a girl. Up came the priest, and cried, “Why, +that’s my daughter.” Up came running the priest’s wife, and +cried:—</p> + +<p>“O thou dear child! where hast thou been so long? I had +no hope of ever seeing thee again.”</p> + +<p>But the girl gazed and just blinked with her eyes, understanding +nothing. After a time, however, she began slowly to come +back to her senses. Then the priest and his wife gave her in +marriage to the hunter, and rewarded him with all sorts of good +things. And they went in search of the hut in which she had +lived while she was with the Léshy. Long did they wander +about the forest; but that hut they never found.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">To another group of personifications belong those of +the Rivers. About them many stories are current, generally +having reference to their alleged jealousies and disputes. +Thus it is said that when God was <ins class="correction" title="alloting in original">allotting</ins> their +shares to the rivers, the Desna did not come in time, and so +failed to obtain precedence over the Dnieper.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +“Try and get before him yourself,” said the Lord.</p> + +<p>The Desna set off at full speed, but in spite of all her +attempts, the Dnieper always kept ahead of her until he +fell into the sea, where the Desna was obliged to join +him.<a name="FNanchor_267_267" id="FNanchor_267_267"></a><a href="#Footnote_267_267" class="fnanchor">[267]</a></p> + +<p>About the Volga and its affluent, the Vazuza, the following +story is told:—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Vazuza and Volga.</span><a name="FNanchor_268_268" id="FNanchor_268_268"></a><a href="#Footnote_268_268" class="fnanchor">[268]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Volga and Vazuza had a long dispute as to which was the wiser, +the stronger, and the more worthy of high respect. They wrangled +and wrangled, but neither could gain the mastery in the dispute, +so they decided upon the following course:—</p> + +<p>“Let us lie down together to sleep,” they said, “and whichever +of us is the first to rise, and the quickest to reach the Caspian +Sea, she shall be held to be the wiser of us two, and the +stronger and the worthier of respect.”</p> + +<p>So Volga lay down to sleep; down lay Vazuza also. But +during the night Vazuza rose silently, fled away from Volga, +chose the nearest and the straightest line, and flowed away. +When Volga awoke, she set off neither slowly nor hurriedly, but +with just befitting speed. At Zubtsof she came up with Vazuza. So +threatening was her mien, that Vazuza was frightened, declared +herself to be Volga’s younger sister, and besought Volga to take +her in her arms and bear her to the Caspian Sea. And so to +this day Vazuza is the first to awake in the Spring, and then she +arouses Volga from her wintry sleep.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">In the Government of Tula a similar tradition is current +about the Don and the Shat, both of which flow out of +Lake Ivan.</p> + +<p>Lake Ivan had two sons, Shat and Don. Shat, contrary +to his father’s wishes, wanted to roam abroad, so he set +out on his travels, but go whither he would, he could get +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +received nowhere. So, after fruitless wanderings, he returned +home.</p> + +<p>But Don, in return for his constant quietness (the river +is known as “the quiet Don”), obtained his father’s blessing, +and he boldly set out on a long journey. On the way, +he met a raven, and asked it where it was flying.</p> + +<p>“To the blue sea,” answered the raven.</p> + +<p>“Let’s go together!”</p> + +<p>Well, they reached the sea. Don thought to himself, +“If I dive right through the sea, I shall carry it away with +me.”</p> + +<p>“Raven!” he said, “do me a service. I am going to +plunge into the sea, but do you fly over to the other side +and as soon as you reach the opposite shore, give a croak.”</p> + +<p>Don plunged into the sea. The raven flew and croaked—but +too soon. Don remained just as he appears at the +present day.<a name="FNanchor_269_269" id="FNanchor_269_269"></a><a href="#Footnote_269_269" class="fnanchor">[269]</a></p> + +<p>In White-Russia there is a legend about two rivers, the +beginning of which has evidently been taken from the story +of Jacob and Esau:—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Sozh and Dnieper.</span></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was once a blind old man called Dvina. He had +two sons—the elder called Sozh, and the younger Dnieper. +Sozh was of a boisterous turn, and went roving about the forests, +the hills, and the plains; but Dnieper was remarkably +sweet-tempered, and he spent all his time at home, and was his +mother’s favorite. Once, when Sozh was away from home, the +old father was deceived by his wife into giving the elder son’s +blessing to the younger son. Thus spake Dvina while blessing +him:—</p> + +<p>“Dissolve, my son, into a wide and deep river. Flow past +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +towns, and bathe villages without number as far as the blue sea. +Thy brother shall be thy servant. Be rich and prosperous to +the end of time!”</p> + +<p>Dnieper turned into a river, and flowed through fertile meadows +and dreamy woods. But after three days, Sozh returned +home and began to complain.</p> + +<p>“If thou dost desire to become superior to thy brother,” +said his father, “speed swiftly by hidden ways, through dark +untrodden forests, and if thou canst outstrip thy brother, he will +have to be thy servant!”</p> + +<p>Away sped Sozh on the chase, through untrodden places, +washing away swamps, cutting out gullies, tearing up oaks by +the roots. The Vulture<a name="FNanchor_270_270" id="FNanchor_270_270"></a><a href="#Footnote_270_270" class="fnanchor">[270]</a> told Dnieper of this, and he put on +extra speed, tearing his way through high hills rather than turn +on one side. Meanwhile Sozh persuaded the Raven to fly +straight to Dnieper, and, as soon as it had come up with him +to croak three times; he himself was to burrow under the earth, +intending to leap to the surface at the cry of the Raven, and by +that means to get before his brother. But the Vulture fell on +the Raven; the Raven began to croak before it had caught up +the river Dnieper. Up burst Sozh from underground, and fell +straight into the waves of the Dnieper.<a name="FNanchor_271_271" id="FNanchor_271_271"></a><a href="#Footnote_271_271" class="fnanchor">[271]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Here is an account of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Metamorphosis of the Dnieper, the Volga, and +the Dvina</span>.<a name="FNanchor_272_272" id="FNanchor_272_272"></a><a href="#Footnote_272_272" class="fnanchor">[272]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>The Dnieper, Volga, and Dvina used once to be living people. +The Dnieper was a boy, and the Volga and Dvina his sisters. +While they were still in childhood they were left complete orphans, +and, as they hadn’t a crust to eat, they were obliged to +get their living by daily labor beyond their strength. “When +was that?” Very long ago, say the old folks; beyond the +memory even of our great-grandfathers.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +Well, the children grew up, but they never had even the +slightest bit of good luck. Every day, from morn till eve, it was +always toil and toil, and all merely for the day’s subsistence. As +for their clothing, it was just what God sent them! They sometimes +found rags on the dust-heaps, and with these they managed +to cover their bodies. The poor things had to endure cold and +hunger. Life became a burden to them.<a name="FNanchor_273_273" id="FNanchor_273_273"></a><a href="#Footnote_273_273" class="fnanchor">[273]</a></p> + +<p>One day, after toiling hard afield, they sat down under a bush +to eat their last morsel of bread. And when they had eaten it, +they cried and sorrowed for a while, and considered and held +counsel together as to how they might manage to live, and to +have food and clothing, and, without toiling, to supply others +with meat and drink. Well, this is what they resolved: to set +out wandering about the wide world in search of good luck and +a kindly welcome, and to look for and find out the best places +in which they could turn into great rivers—for that was a possible +thing then.</p> + +<p>Well, they walked and walked; not one year only, nor two +years, but all but three; and they chose the places they wanted, +and came to an agreement as to where the flowing of each one +should begin. And all three of them stopped to spend the night +in a swamp. But the sisters were more cunning than their +brother. No sooner was Dnieper asleep than they rose up +quietly, chose the best and most sloping places, and began to +flow away.</p> + +<p>When the brother awoke in the morning, not a trace of his +sisters was to be seen. Then he became wroth, and made +haste to pursue them. But on the way he bethought himself, +and decided that no man can run faster than a river. So he +smote the ground, and flowed in pursuit as a stream. Through +gullies and ravines he rushed, and the further he went the +fiercer did he become. But when he came <ins class="correction" title="withen in original">within</ins> a few versts +of the sea-shore, his anger calmed down and he disappeared in +the sea. And his two sisters, who had continued running from +him during his pursuit, separated in different directions and fled +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> +to the bottom of the sea. But while the Dnieper was rushing +along in anger, he drove his way between steep banks. Therefore +is it that his flow is swifter than that of the Volga and the +Dvina; therefore also is it that he has many rapids and many +mouths.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">There is a small stream which falls into Lake Ilmen +on its western side, and which is called Chorny Ruchei, +the Black Brook. On the banks of this brook, a long +time ago, a certain man set up a mill, and the fish came +and implored the stream to grant them its aid, saying, +“We used to have room enough and be at our ease, but +now an evil man is taking away the water from us.” And +the result was this. One of the inhabitants of Novgorod +was angling in the brook Chorny. Up came a stranger to +him, dressed all in black, who greeted him, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Do me a service, and I will show thee a place where +the fish swarm.”</p> + +<p>“What is the service?”</p> + +<p>“When thou art in Novgorod, thou wilt meet a tall, +big moujik in a plaited blue caftan, wide blue trowsers, +and a high blue hat. Say to him, ‘Uncle Ilmen! the +Chorny has sent thee a petition, and has told me to say +that a mill has been set in his way. As thou may’st think +fit to order, so shall it be!’”</p> + +<p>The Novgorod man promised to fulfil this request, and +the black stranger showed him a place where the fish +swarmed by thousands. With rich booty did the fisherman +return to Novgorod, where he met the moujik with the +blue caftan, and gave him the petition. The Ilmen answered:—</p> + +<p>“Give my compliments to the brook Chorny, and say +to him about the mill: there used not to be one, and so +there shall not be one!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span> +This commission also the Novgorod man fulfilled, and +behold! during the night the brook Chorny ran riotous, +Lake Ilmen waxed boisterous, a tempest arose, and the +raging waters swept away the mill.<a name="FNanchor_274_274" id="FNanchor_274_274"></a><a href="#Footnote_274_274" class="fnanchor">[274]</a></p> + +<p>In old times sacrifices were regularly paid to lakes and +streams in Russia, just as they were in Germany<a name="FNanchor_275_275" id="FNanchor_275_275"></a><a href="#Footnote_275_275" class="fnanchor">[275]</a> and in +other lands. And even at the present day the common +people are in the habit of expressing, by some kind of +offering, their thanks to a river on which they have made +a prosperous voyage. It is said that Stenka Razin, the +insurgent chief of the Don Cossacks in the seventeenth +century, once offered a human sacrifice to the Volga. +Among his captives was a Persian princess, to whom he +was warmly attached. But one day “when he was fevered +with wine, as he sat at the ship’s side and musingly regarded +the waves, he said: ‘Oh, Mother Volga, thou +great river! much hast thou given me of gold and of silver, +and of all good things; thou hast nursed me, and nourished +me, and covered me with glory and honor. But I have in +no way shown thee my gratitude. Here is somewhat for +thee; take it!’ And with these words he caught up the +princess and flung her into the water.”<a name="FNanchor_276_276" id="FNanchor_276_276"></a><a href="#Footnote_276_276" class="fnanchor">[276]</a></p> + +<p>Just as rivers might be conciliated by honor and sacrifice, +so they could be irritated by disrespect. One of the +old songs tells how a youth comes riding to the Smorodina, +and beseeches that stream to show him a ford. His prayer +is granted, and he crosses to the other side. Then he +takes to boasting, and says, “People talk about the Smorodina, +saying that no one can cross it whether on foot or on +horseback—but it is no better than a pool of rain-water!” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> +But when the time comes for him to cross back again, the +river takes its revenge, and drowns him in its depths, saying +the while: “It is not I, but thy own boasting that +drowns thee.”</p> + +<p>From these vocal rivers we will now turn to that elementary +force by which in winter they are often rendered +mute. In the story which is now about to be quoted will +be found a striking personification of Frost. As a general +rule, Winter plays by no means so important a part as +might have been expected in Northern tales. As in other +European countries, so in Russia, the romantic stories of +the people are full of pictures bathed in warm sunlight, but +they do not often represent the aspect of the land when +the sky is grey, and the earth is a sheet of white, and outdoor +life is sombre and still. Here and there, it is true, +glimpses of snowy landscapes are offered by the skazkas. +But it is seldom that a wintry effect is so deliberately produced +in them as is the case in the following remarkable +version of a well-known tale.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Frost.</span><a name="FNanchor_277_277" id="FNanchor_277_277"></a><a href="#Footnote_277_277" class="fnanchor">[277]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was once an old man who had a wife and three daughters. +The wife had no love for the eldest of the three, who +was her stepdaughter, but was always scolding her. Moreover, +she used to make her get up ever so early in the morning, and +gave her all the work of the house to do. Before daybreak the +girl would feed the cattle and give them to drink, fetch wood +and water indoors, light the fire in the stove, give the room a +wash, mend the dresses, and set everything in order. Even +then her stepmother was never satisfied, but would grumble +away at Marfa, exclaiming:—</p> + +<p>“What a lazybones! what a slut! Why here’s a brush not +in its place, and there’s something put wrong, and she’s left the +muck inside the house!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +The girl held her peace, and wept; she tried in every way to +accommodate herself to her stepmother, and to be of service to +her stepsisters. But they, taking pattern by their mother, were +always insulting Marfa, quarrelling with her, and making her +cry: that was even a pleasure to them! As for them, they lay +in bed late, washed themselves in water got ready for them, +dried themselves with a clean towel, and didn’t sit down to +work till after dinner.</p> + +<p>Well, our girls grew and grew, until they grew up and were +old enough to be married. The old man felt sorry for his eldest +daughter, whom he loved because she was industrious and +obedient, never was obstinate, always did as she was bid, and +never uttered a word of contradiction. But he didn’t know how +he was to help her in her trouble. He was feeble, his wife was +a scold, and her daughters were as obstinate as they were +indolent.</p> + +<p>Well, the old folks set to work to consider—the husband +how he could get his daughters settled, the wife how she could +get rid of the eldest one. One day she says to him:—</p> + +<p>“I say, old man! let’s get Marfa married.”</p> + +<p>“Gladly,” says he, slinking off (to the sleeping-place) above +the stove. But his wife called after him:—</p> + +<p>“Get up early to-morrow, old man, harness the mare to the +sledge, and drive away with Marfa. And, Marfa, get your +things together in a basket, and put on a clean shift; you’re +going away to-morrow on a visit.”</p> + +<p>Poor Marfa was delighted to hear of such a piece of good +luck as being invited on a visit, and she slept comfortably all +night. Early next morning she got up, washed herself, prayed +to God, got all her things together, packed them away in proper +order, dressed herself (in her best things), and looked something +like a lass!—a bride fit for any place whatsoever!</p> + +<p>Now it was winter time, and out of doors was a rattling +frost. Early in the morning, between daybreak and sunrise, +the old man harnessed the mare to the sledge, and led it up to +the steps. Then he went indoors, sat down on the window-sill, +and said:—</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +“Now then! I’ve got everything ready.”</p> + +<p>“Sit down to table and swallow your victuals!” replied the +old woman.</p> + +<p>The old man sat down to table, and made his daughter sit +by his side. On the table stood a pannier; he took out a loaf,<a name="FNanchor_278_278" id="FNanchor_278_278"></a><a href="#Footnote_278_278" class="fnanchor">[278]</a> +and cut bread for himself and his daughter. Meantime his +wife served up a dish of old cabbage soup, and said:—</p> + +<p>“There, my pigeon, eat and be off; I’ve looked at you quite +enough! Drive Marfa to her bridegroom, old man. And look +here, old greybeard! drive straight along the road at first, and +then turn off from the road to the right, you know, into the +forest—right up to the big pine that stands on the hill, and there +hand Marfa over to Morozko (Frost).”</p> + +<p>The old man opened his eyes wide, also his mouth, and +stopped eating, and the girl began lamenting.</p> + +<p>“Now then, what are you hanging your chaps and squealing +about?” said her stepmother. “Surely your bridegroom is a +beauty, and he’s that rich! Why, just see what a lot of things +belong to him, the firs, the pine-tops, and the birches, all in +their robes of down—ways and means that any one might envy; +and he himself a <i>bogatir</i>!”<a name="FNanchor_279_279" id="FNanchor_279_279"></a><a href="#Footnote_279_279" class="fnanchor">[279]</a></p> + +<p>The old man silently placed the things on the sledge, made +his daughter put on a warm pelisse, and set off on the journey. +After a time, he reached the forest, turned off from the road; +and drove across the frozen snow.<a name="FNanchor_280_280" id="FNanchor_280_280"></a><a href="#Footnote_280_280" class="fnanchor">[280]</a> When he got into the +depths of the forest, he stopped, made his daughter get out, +laid her basket under the tall pine, and said:—</p> + +<p>“Sit here, and await the bridegroom. And mind you receive +him as pleasantly as you can.”</p> + +<p>Then he turned his horse round and drove off homewards.</p> + +<p>The girl sat and shivered. The cold had pierced her through. +She would fain have cried aloud, but she had not strength +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +enough; only her teeth chattered. Suddenly she heard a +sound. Not far off, Frost was cracking away on a fir. From +fir to fir was he leaping, and snapping his fingers. Presently he +appeared on that very pine under which the maiden was sitting +and from above her head he cried:—</p> + +<p>“Art thou warm, maiden?”</p> + +<p>“Warm, warm am I, dear Father Frost,” she replied.</p> + +<p>Frost began to descend lower, all the more cracking and +snapping his fingers. To the maiden said Frost:—</p> + +<p>“Art thou warm, maiden? Art thou warm, fair one?”</p> + +<p>The girl could scarcely draw her breath, but still she replied:</p> + +<p>“Warm am I, Frost dear: warm am I, father dear!”</p> + +<p>Frost began cracking more than ever, and more loudly did +he snap his fingers, and to the maiden he said:—</p> + +<p>“Art thou warm, maiden? Art thou warm, pretty one? +Art thou warm, my darling?”</p> + +<p>The girl was by this time numb with cold, and she could +scarcely make herself heard as she replied:—</p> + +<p>“Oh! quite warm, Frost dearest!”</p> + +<p>Then Frost took pity on the girl, wrapped her up in furs, +and warmed her with blankets.</p> + +<p>Next morning the old woman said to her husband:—</p> + +<p>“Drive out, old greybeard, and wake the young couple!”</p> + +<p>The old man harnessed his horse and drove off. When he +came to where his daughter was, he found she was alive and had +got a good pelisse, a costly bridal veil, and a pannier with rich +gifts. He stowed everything away on the sledge without saying +a word, took his seat on it with his daughter, and drove back. +They reached home, and the daughter fell at her stepmother’s +feet. The old woman was thunderstruck when she saw the girl +alive, and the new pelisse and the basket of linen.</p> + +<p>“Ah, you wretch!” she cries. “But you shan’t trick me!”</p> + +<p>Well, a little later the old woman says to her husband:—</p> + +<p>“Take my daughters, too, to their bridegroom. The presents +he’s made are nothing to what he’ll give them.”</p> + +<p>Well, early next morning the old woman gave her girls their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +breakfast, dressed them as befitted brides, and sent them off on +their journey. In the same way as before the old man left the +girls under the pine.</p> + +<p>There the girls sat, and kept laughing and saying:</p> + +<p>“Whatever is mother thinking of! All of a sudden to marry +both of us off! As if there were no lads in our village, forsooth! +Some rubbishy fellow may come, and goodness knows who he +may be!”</p> + +<p>The girls were wrapped up in pelisses, but for all that they +felt the cold.</p> + +<p>“I say, Prascovia! the frost’s skinning me alive. Well, if +our bridegroom<a name="FNanchor_281_281" id="FNanchor_281_281"></a><a href="#Footnote_281_281" class="fnanchor">[281]</a> doesn’t come quick, we shall be frozen to +death here!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t go talking nonsense, Mashka; as if suitors<a name="FNanchor_282_282" id="FNanchor_282_282"></a><a href="#Footnote_282_282" class="fnanchor">[282]</a> generally +turned up in the forenoon. Why it’s hardly dinner-time +yet!”</p> + +<p>“But I say, Prascovia! if only one comes, which of us will +he take?”</p> + +<p>“Not you, you stupid goose!”</p> + +<p>“Then it will be you, I suppose!”</p> + +<p>“Of course it will be me!”</p> + +<p>“You, indeed! there now, have done talking stuff and +treating people like fools!”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Frost had numbed the girl’s hands, so our +damsels folded them under their dress, and then went on +quarrelling as before.</p> + +<p>“What, you fright! you sleepy-face! you abominable shrew! +why, you don’t know so much as how to begin weaving: and as +to going on with it, you haven’t an idea!”</p> + +<p>“Aha, boaster! and what is it you know? Why, nothing at +all except to go <ins class="correction" title="word 'to' removed before 'out'">out</ins> to merry-makings and lick your lips there. +We’ll soon see which he’ll take first!”</p> + +<p>While the girls went on scolding like that, they began to +freeze in downright earnest. Suddenly they both cried out at +once:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +“Whyever is he so long coming. Do you know, you’ve turned +quite blue!”</p> + +<p>Now, a good way off, Frost had begun cracking, snapping +his fingers, and leaping from fir to fir. To the girls it sounded +as if some one was coming.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Prascovia! He’s coming at last, and with bells, +too!”</p> + +<p>“Get along with you! I won’t listen; my skin is peeling +with cold.”</p> + +<p>“And yet you’re still expecting to get married!”</p> + +<p>Then they began blowing on their fingers.</p> + +<p>Nearer and nearer came Frost. At length he appeared on +the pine, above the heads of the girls, and said to them:</p> + +<p>“Are ye warm, maidens? Are ye warm, pretty ones? Are +ye warm, my darlings?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, Frost, it’s awfully cold! we’re utterly perished! +We’re expecting a bridegroom, but the confounded fellow has +disappeared.”</p> + +<p>Frost slid lower down the tree, cracked away more, snapped +his fingers oftener than before.</p> + +<p>“Are ye warm, maidens? Are ye warm, pretty ones?”</p> + +<p>“Get along with you! Are you blind that you can’t see our +hands and feet are quite dead?”</p> + +<p>Still lower descended Frost, still more put forth his might,<a name="FNanchor_283_283" id="FNanchor_283_283"></a><a href="#Footnote_283_283" class="fnanchor">[283]</a> +and said:</p> + +<p>“Are ye warm, maidens?”</p> + +<p>“Into the bottomless pit with you! Out of sight, accursed +one!” cried the girls—and became lifeless forms.<a name="FNanchor_284_284" id="FNanchor_284_284"></a><a href="#Footnote_284_284" class="fnanchor">[284]</a></p> + +<p>Next morning the old woman said to her husband:</p> + +<p>“Old man, go and get the sledge harnessed; put an armful +of hay in it, and take some sheep-skin wraps. I daresay the +girls are half-dead with cold. There’s a terrible frost outside! +And, mind you, old greybeard, do it quickly!”</p> + +<p>Before the old man could manage to get a bite he was out of +doors and on his way. When he came to where his daughters +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +were, he found them dead. So he lifted the girls on to the +sledge, wrapped a blanket round them, and covered them up +with a bark mat. The old woman saw him from afar, ran out +to meet him, and called out ever so loud:</p> + +<p>“Where are the girls?”</p> + +<p>“In the sledge.”</p> + +<p>The old woman lifted the mat, undid the blanket, and found +the girls both dead.</p> + +<p>Then, like a thunderstorm, she broke out against her husband, +abusing him saying:</p> + +<p>“What have you done, you old wretch? You have destroyed +my daughters, the children of my own flesh and blood, my +never-enough-to-be-gazed-on seedlings, my beautiful berries! I +will thrash you with the tongs; I will give it you with the stove-rake.”</p> + +<p>“That’s enough, you old goose! You flattered yourself +you were going to get riches, but your daughters were too stiff-necked. +How was I to blame? it was you yourself would +have it.”</p> + +<p>The old woman was in a rage at first, and used bad language; +but afterwards she made it up with her stepdaughter, +and they all lived together peaceably, and thrived, and bore no +malice. A neighbor made an offer of marriage, the wedding +was celebrated, and Marfa is now living happily. The old man +frightens his grandchildren with (stories about) Frost, and +doesn’t let them have their own way.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">In a variant from the Kursk Government (Afanasief IV. +No. 42. <i>b</i>), the stepdaughter is left by her father “in the +open plain.” There she sits, “trembling and silently offering +up a prayer.” Frost draws near, intending “to smite her +and to freeze her to death.” But when he says to her, +“Maiden, maiden, I am Frost the Red-Nosed,” she replies +“Welcome, Frost; doubtless God has sent you for my sinful +soul.” Pleased by her “wise words,” Frost throws a warm +cloak over her, and afterwards presents her with “robes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +embroidered with silver and gold, and a chest containing +rich dowry.” The girl <ins class="correction" title="put in original">puts</ins> on the robes, and appears “such +a beauty!” Then she sits on the chest and sings songs. +Meantime her stepmother is baking cakes and preparing +for her funeral. After a time her father sets out in search +of her dead body. But the dog beneath the table barks—“Taff! +Taff! The master’s daughter in silver and gold by +the wedding party is borne along, but the mistress’s daughter +is wooed by none!” In vain does its mistress throw it +a cake, and order it to modify its remarks. It eats the +cake, but it repeats its offensive observations, until the stepdaughter +appears in all her glory. Then the old woman’s +own daughter is sent afield. Frost comes to have a look +at his new guest, expecting “wise words” from her too. But +as none are forthcoming, he waxes wroth, and kills her. +When the old man goes to fetch her, the dog barks—“Taff! +Taff! The master’s daughter will be borne along by the +bridal train, but the bones of the mistress’s daughter are +being carried in a bag,” and continues to bark in the same +strain until the yard-gates open. The old woman runs out +to greet her daughter, and “instead of her embraces a cold +corpse.”</p> + +<p>To the Russian peasants, it should be observed, Moroz, +our own Jack Frost, is a living personage. On Christmas +Eve it is customary for the oldest man in each family to +take a spoonful of kissel, a sort of pudding, and then, having +put his head through the window, to cry:</p> + +<p>“Frost, Frost, come and eat kissel! Frost, Frost, do +not kill our oats! drive our flax and hemp deep into the +ground.”</p> + +<p>The Tcheremisses have similar ideas, and are afraid of +knocking the icicles off their houses, thinking that, if they +do so, Frost will wax wroth and freeze them to death. In +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +one of the Skazkas, a peasant goes out one day to a field +of buckwheat, and finds it all broken down. He goes +home, and tells the bad news to his wife, who says, “It is +Frost who has done this. Go and find him, and make him +pay for the damage!” So the peasant goes into the forest +and, after wandering about for some time, lights upon a +path which leads him to a cottage made of ice, covered +with snow, and hung with icicles. He knocks at the door, +and out comes an old man—“all white.” This is Frost, +who presents him with the magic cudgel and table-cloth +which work wonders in so many of the tales.<a name="FNanchor_285_285" id="FNanchor_285_285"></a><a href="#Footnote_285_285" class="fnanchor">[285]</a> In another +story, a peasant meets the Sun, the Wind, and the Frost. +He bows to all three, but adds an extra salutation to the +Wind. This enrages the two others, and the Sun cries out +that he will burn up the peasant. But the Wind says, “I +will blow cold, and temper the heat.” Then the Frost +threatens to freeze the peasant to death, but the Wind +comforts him, saying, “I will blow warm, and will not let +you be hurt.”<a name="FNanchor_286_286" id="FNanchor_286_286"></a><a href="#Footnote_286_286" class="fnanchor">[286]</a></p> + +<p>Sometimes the Frost is described by the people as a +mighty smith who forges strong chains with which to bind +the earth and the waters—as in the saying “The Old One +has built a bridge without axe and without knife,” <i>i.e.</i>, the +river is frozen over. Sometimes Moroz-Treskun, the Crackling +Frost, is spoken of without disguise as the preserver of +the hero who is ordered to enter a bath which has been +heated red-hot. Frost goes into the bath, and breathes +with so icy a breath that the heat of the building turns at +once to cold.<a name="FNanchor_287_287" id="FNanchor_287_287"></a><a href="#Footnote_287_287" class="fnanchor">[287]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +The story in which Frost so singularly figures is one +which is known in many lands, and of which many variants +are current in Russia. The jealous hatred of a stepmother, +who exposes her stepdaughter to some great peril, has been +made the theme of countless tales. What gives its special +importance, as well as its poetical charm, to the skazka +which has been quoted, is the introduction of Frost as the +power to which the stepmother has recourse for the furtherance +of her murderous plans, and by which she, in the +persons of her own daughters, is ultimately punished. We +have already dealt with one specimen of the skazkas +of this class, the story of Vasilissa, who is sent to the +Baba Yaga’s for a light. Another, still more closely connected +with that of “Frost,” occurs in Khudyakof’s collection.<a name="FNanchor_288_288" id="FNanchor_288_288"></a><a href="#Footnote_288_288" class="fnanchor">[288]</a></p> + +<p>A certain woman ordered her husband (says the story) +to make away with his daughter by a previous marriage. +So he took the girl into the forest, and left her in a kind of +hut, telling her to prepare some soup while he was cutting +wood. “At that time there was a gale blowing. The old +man tied a log to a tree; when the wind blew, the log rattled. +She thought the old man was going on cutting wood, +but in reality he had gone away home.”</p> + +<p>When the soup was ready, she called out to her father +to come to dinner. No reply came from him, “but there +was a human head in the forest, and it replied, ‘I’m coming +immediately!’ And when the Head arrived, it cried, +‘Maiden, open the door!’ She opened it. ‘Maiden, +Maiden! lift me over the threshold!’ She lifted it over. +‘Maiden, Maiden! put the dinner on the table!’ She +did so, and she and the Head sat down to dinner. When +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +they had dined, ‘Maiden, Maiden!’ said the Head, ‘take +me off the bench!’ She took it off the bench, and cleared +the table. It lay down to sleep on the bare floor; she lay +on the bench. She fell asleep, but it went into the forest +after its servants. The house became bigger; servants, +horses, everything one could think of suddenly appeared. +The servants came to the maiden, and said, ‘Get up! +it’s time to go for a drive!’ So she got into a carriage +with the Head, but she took a cock along with her. She +told the cock to crow; it crowed. Again she told it to +crow; it crowed again. And a third time she told it to +crow. When it had crowed for the third time, the Head +fell to pieces, and became a heap of golden coins.”<a name="FNanchor_289_289" id="FNanchor_289_289"></a><a href="#Footnote_289_289" class="fnanchor">[289]</a></p> + +<p>Then the stepmother sent her own daughter into the +forest. Everything occurred as before, until the Head arrived. +Then she was so frightened that she tried to hide +herself, and she would do nothing for the Head, which had +to dish up its own dinner, and eat it by itself. And so +“when she lay down to sleep, it ate her up.”</p> + +<p>In a story in Chudinsky’s collection, the stepdaughter +is sent by night to watch the rye in an <i>ovin</i>,<a name="FNanchor_290_290" id="FNanchor_290_290"></a><a href="#Footnote_290_290" class="fnanchor">[290]</a> or corn-kiln. +Presently a stranger appears and asks her to marry him. +She replies that she has no wedding-clothes, upon which +he brings her everything she asks for. But she is very +careful not to ask for more than one thing at a time, and +so the cock crows before her list of indispensable +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +necessaries is exhausted. The stranger immediately disappears, +and she carries off her presents in triumph.</p> + +<p>The next night her stepsister is sent to the <i>ovin</i>, and +the stranger appears as before, and asks her to marry him. +She, also, replies that she has no wedding-clothes, and he +offers to supply her with what she wants. Whereupon, +instead of asking for a number of things one after the +other, she demands them all at once—“Stockings, garters, +a petticoat, a dress, a comb, earrings, a mirror, soap, white +paint and rouge, and everything which her stepsister had +got.” Then follows the catastrophe.</p> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>The stranger brought her everything, all at once.</p> + +<p>“Now then,” says he, “will you marry me now?”</p> + +<p>“Wait a bit,” said the stepmother’s daughter, “I’ll wash +and dress, and whiten myself and rouge myself, and then I’ll +marry you.” And straightway she set to work washing and +dressing—and she hastened and hurried to get all that done—she +wanted so awfully to see herself decked out as a bride. +By-and-by she was quite dressed—but the cock had not yet +crowed.</p> + +<p>“Well, maiden!” says he, “will you marry me now?”</p> + +<p>“I’m quite ready,” says she.</p> + +<p>Thereupon he tore her to pieces.<a name="FNanchor_291_291" id="FNanchor_291_291"></a><a href="#Footnote_291_291" class="fnanchor">[291]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">There is one other of those personifications of natural +forces which play an active part in the Russian tales, +about which a few words may be said. It often happens +that the heroine-stealer whom the hero of the story has to +overcome is called, not Koshchei nor the Snake, but Vikhor,<a name="FNanchor_292_292" id="FNanchor_292_292"></a><a href="#Footnote_292_292" class="fnanchor">[292]</a> +the whirlwind. Here is a brief analysis of part of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> +one of the tales in which this elementary abducer figures. +There was a certain king, whose wife went out one day to +walk <ins class="correction" title="n in original">in</ins> the garden. “Suddenly a gale (<i>vyeter</i>) sprang up. +In the gale was the Vikhor-bird. Vikhor seized the +Queen, and carried her off.” She left three sons, and +they, when they came to man’s estate, said to their father—“Where +is our mother? If she be dead, show us her +grave; if she be living, tell us where to find her.”</p> + +<p>“I myself know not where your mother is,” replied the +King. “Vikhor carried her off.”</p> + +<p>“Well then,” they said, “since Vikhor carried her off, +and she is alive, give us your blessing. We will go in +search of our mother.”</p> + +<p>All three set out, but only the youngest, Prince Vasily, +succeeded in climbing the steep hill, whereon stood the +palace in which his mother and Vikhor lived. Entering it +during Vikhor’s absence, the Prince made himself known +to his mother, “who straightway gave him to eat, and concealed +him in a distant apartment, hiding him behind <ins class="correction" title="omitted from original">a</ins> +number of cushions, so that Vikhor might not easily discover +him.” And she gave him these instructions. “If +Vikhor comes, and begins quarrelling, don’t come forth, +but if he takes to chatting, come forth and say, ‘Hail +father!’ and seize hold of the little finger of his right +hand, and wherever he flies do you go with him.”</p> + +<p>Presently Vikhor came flying in, and addressed the +Queen angrily. Prince Vasily remained concealed until +his mother gave him a hint to come forth. This he did, +and then greeted Vikhor, and caught hold of his right little +finger. Vikhor tried to shake him off, flying first about +the house and then out of it, but all in vain. At last Vikhor, +after soaring on high, struck the ground, and fell to +pieces, becoming a fine yellow sand. “But the little finger +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +remained in the possession of Prince Vasily, who +scraped together the sand and burnt it in the stove.”<a name="FNanchor_293_293" id="FNanchor_293_293"></a><a href="#Footnote_293_293" class="fnanchor">[293]</a></p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>With a mention of two other singular beings who occur +in the Skazkas, the present chapter may be brought to a +close. The first is a certain Morfei (Morpheus?) who +figures in the following variant of a well-known tale.</p> + +<p>There was a king, and he had a daughter with whom a +general who lived over the way fell in love. But the king +would not let him marry her unless he went where none +had been, and brought back thence what none had seen. +After much consideration the general set out and travelled +“over swamps, hill, and rivers.” At last he reached a +wood in which was a hut, and inside the hut was an old +crone. To her he told his story, after hearing which, she +cried out, “Ho, there! Morfei, dish up the meal!” and +immediately a dinner appeared of which the old crone +made the general partake. And next day “she presented +that cook to the general, ordering him to serve the general +honorably, as he had served her. The general took the +cook and departed.” By-and-by he came to a river and +was appealed to for food by a shipwrecked crew. “Morfei, +give them to eat!” he cried, and immediately excellent +viands appeared, with which the mariners were so pleased +that they gave the general a magic volume in exchange +for his cook—who, however, did not stay with them but +secretly followed his master. A little later the general +found another shipwrecked crew, who gave him, in exchange +for his cook, a sabre and a towel, each of magic +power. Then the general returned to his own city, and +his magic properties enabled him to convince the king +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> +that he was an eligible suitor for the hand of the Princess.<a name="FNanchor_294_294" id="FNanchor_294_294"></a><a href="#Footnote_294_294" class="fnanchor">[294]</a></p> + +<p>The other is a mysterious personage whose name is +“Oh!” The story in which he appears is one with which +many countries are familiar, and of which numerous versions +are to be found in Russia. A father sets out with +his boy for “the bazaar,” hoping to find a teacher there +who will instruct the child in such science as enables people +“to work little, and feed delicately, and dress well.” +After walking a long way the man becomes weary and +exclaims, “Oh! I’m so tired!” Immediately there appears +“an old magician,” who says—</p> + +<p>“Why do you call me?”</p> + +<p>“I didn’t call you,” replies the old man. “I don’t +even know who you are.”</p> + +<p>“My name is Oh,” says the magician, “and you cried +‘Oh!’ Where are you taking that boy?”</p> + +<p>The father explains what it is he wants, and the magician +undertakes to give the boy the requisite education, +charging “one assignat rouble” for a year’s tuition.<a name="FNanchor_295_295" id="FNanchor_295_295"></a><a href="#Footnote_295_295" class="fnanchor">[295]</a></p> + +<p>The teacher, in this story, is merely called a magician; +but as in other Russian versions of it his counterpart is +always described as being demoniacal, and is often openly +styled a devil, it may be assumed that Oh belongs to the +supernatural order of beings. It is often very difficult, +however, to distinguish magicians from fiends in storyland, +the same powers being generally wielded, and that for the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +same purposes, by the one set of beings as by the other. +Of those powers, and of the end to which the stories represent +them as being turned, some mention will be made in +the <a href="#Page_237">next chapter</a>.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_224_224" id="Footnote_224_224"></a><a name="Footnote_224a_224a" id="Footnote_224a_224a"></a><a href="#FNanchor_224_224"><span class="label">[224]</span></a> The adjective <i>likhoi</i> has two opposite meanings, sometimes signifying what is +evil, hurtful, malicious, &c., sometimes what is bold, vigorous, and therefore to be +admired. As a substantive, <i>likho</i> conveys the idea of something malevolent or unfortunate. +The Polish <i>licho</i> properly signifies <i>uneven</i>. But odd numbers are sometimes +considered unlucky. Polish housewives, for instance, think it imprudent to allow +their hens to sit on an uneven number of eggs. But the peasantry also describe +by <i>Licho</i> an evil spirit, a sort of devil. (Wojcicki in the “Encyklopedyja Powszechna,” +xvii. p. 17.) “When Likho sleeps, awake it not,” says a proverb common to +Poland and South Russia.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_225_225" id="Footnote_225_225"></a><a href="#FNanchor_225_225"><span class="label">[225]</span></a> Afanasief, iii. No. 14. From the Voroneje Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_226_226" id="Footnote_226_226"></a><a href="#FNanchor_226_226"><span class="label">[226]</span></a> From an article by Borovikovsky in the “Otech. Zap.” 1840, No. 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_227_227" id="Footnote_227_227"></a><a href="#FNanchor_227_227"><span class="label">[227]</span></a> “Les Avadânas,” vol. i. No. 9, p. 51.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_228_228" id="Footnote_228_228"></a><a href="#FNanchor_228_228"><span class="label">[228]</span></a> In the “Philogische und historische Abhandlungen,” of the Berlin Academy of +Sciences for 1857, pp. 1-30. See also Buslaef, “Ist. Och.,” i. 327-331.; Campbell’s +“West Highland Tales,” i. p. 132, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_229_229" id="Footnote_229_229"></a><a href="#FNanchor_229_229"><span class="label">[229]</span></a> <i>Ednookie</i> (<i>edno</i> or <i>odno</i> = one; <i>oko</i> = eye). A Slavonic equivalent of the name +“Arimaspians,” from the Scythic <i>arima</i> = one and <i>spû</i> = eye. Mr. Rawlinson +associates <i>arima</i>, through <i>farima</i>, with Goth. <i>fruma</i>, Lat. <i>primus</i>, &c., and <i>spû</i> +with Lat. root <i>spic</i> or <i>spec</i>—in <i>specio</i>, <i>specto</i>, &c., and with our “spy,” &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_230_230" id="Footnote_230_230"></a><a href="#FNanchor_230_230"><span class="label">[230]</span></a> Grimm, No. 130, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_231_231" id="Footnote_231_231"></a><a href="#FNanchor_231_231"><span class="label">[231]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 55.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_232_232" id="Footnote_232_232"></a><a href="#FNanchor_232_232"><span class="label">[232]</span></a> See the “Songs of the Russian People,” p. 30.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_233_233" id="Footnote_233_233"></a><a href="#FNanchor_233_233"><span class="label">[233]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 34. From the Novgorod Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_234_234" id="Footnote_234_234"></a><a href="#FNanchor_234_234"><span class="label">[234]</span></a> <i>Opokhmyelit’sya</i>: “to drink off the effects of his debauch.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_235_235" id="Footnote_235_235"></a><a href="#FNanchor_235_235"><span class="label">[235]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_236_236" id="Footnote_236_236"></a><a href="#FNanchor_236_236"><span class="label">[236]</span></a> Our “Sunday gown.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_237_237" id="Footnote_237_237"></a><a href="#FNanchor_237_237"><span class="label">[237]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. p. 408.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_238_238" id="Footnote_238_238"></a><a href="#FNanchor_238_238"><span class="label">[238]</span></a> Properly speaking “grief,” that which morally <i>krushìt</i> or crushes a man.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_239_239" id="Footnote_239_239"></a><a href="#FNanchor_239_239"><span class="label">[239]</span></a> <i>Kruchìna</i>, as an abstract idea, is of the feminine gender. But it is here personified +as a male being.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_240_240" id="Footnote_240_240"></a><a href="#FNanchor_240_240"><span class="label">[240]</span></a> Afanasief, v. p. 237.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_241_241" id="Footnote_241_241"></a><a href="#FNanchor_241_241"><span class="label">[241]</span></a> <i>Spasibo</i> is the word in popular use as an expression of thanks, and it now means +nothing more than “thank you!” But it is really a contraction of <i>spasi Bog!</i> “God +save (you)!” as our “Good-bye!” is of “God be with you!”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_242_242" id="Footnote_242_242"></a><a href="#FNanchor_242_242"><span class="label">[242]</span></a> Maksimovich, “Tri Skazki” (quoted by Afanasief, viii. p. 406).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_243_243" id="Footnote_243_243"></a><a href="#FNanchor_243_243"><span class="label">[243]</span></a> Vuk Karajich, No. 13.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_244_244" id="Footnote_244_244"></a><a href="#FNanchor_244_244"><span class="label">[244]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. No. 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_245_245" id="Footnote_245_245"></a><a href="#FNanchor_245_245"><span class="label">[245]</span></a> <i>Schastie</i> and <i>Neschastie</i>—Luck and Bad-luck—the exact counterparts of the +Indian Lakshmí and Alakshmí.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_246_246" id="Footnote_246_246"></a><a href="#FNanchor_246_246"><span class="label">[246]</span></a> Afanasief, iii. No. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_247_247" id="Footnote_247_247"></a><a href="#FNanchor_247_247"><span class="label">[247]</span></a> Afanasief viii. pp. 32-4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_248_248" id="Footnote_248_248"></a><a href="#FNanchor_248_248"><span class="label">[248]</span></a> <i>Bezdolny</i> (<i>bez</i> = without; <i>dolya</i> = lot, share, etc.).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_249_249" id="Footnote_249_249"></a><a href="#FNanchor_249_249"><span class="label">[249]</span></a> Everyone knows how frequent are the allusions to good and bad fortune in +Oriental fiction, so that there is no occasion to do more than allude to the stories in +which they occur—one of the most interesting of which is that of Víra-vara in the +“Hitopadesa” (chap. iii. Fable 9), who finds one night a young and beautiful woman, +richly decked with jewels, weeping outside the city in which dwells his royal master +Sudraka, and asks her who she is, and why she weeps. To which (in Mr. Johnson’s +translation) she replies “I am the Fortune of this King Sudraka, beneath the shadow +of whose arm I have long reposed very happily. Through the fault of the queen the +king will die on the third day. I shall be without a protector, and shall stay no +longer; therefore do I weep.” On the variants of this story, see Benfey’s “Panchatantra,” +i. pp. 415-16.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_250_250" id="Footnote_250_250"></a><a href="#FNanchor_250_250"><span class="label">[250]</span></a> From <i>pyat</i> = five, Friday being the fifth working day. Similarly Tuesday is +called <i>Vtornik</i>, from <i>vtoroi</i> = second; Wednesday is <i>Sereda</i>, “the middle;” +Thursday <i>Chetverg</i>, from <i>chetverty</i> = fourth. But Saturday is <i>Subbòta</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_251_251" id="Footnote_251_251"></a><a href="#FNanchor_251_251"><span class="label">[251]</span></a> <i>P.V.S.</i>, i. 230. See also Buslaef, “Ist. Och.” pp. 323, 503-4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_252_252" id="Footnote_252_252"></a><a href="#FNanchor_252_252"><span class="label">[252]</span></a> A tradition of our own relates that the Lords of the Admiralty, wishing to +prove the absurdity of the English sailor’s horror of Friday, commenced a ship on a +Friday, launched her on a Friday, named her “The Friday,” procured a Captain +Friday to command her, and sent her to sea on a Friday, and—she was never heard +of again.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_253_253" id="Footnote_253_253"></a><a href="#FNanchor_253_253"><span class="label">[253]</span></a> Afanasief, “Legendui,” No. 13. From the Tambof Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_254_254" id="Footnote_254_254"></a><a href="#FNanchor_254_254"><span class="label">[254]</span></a> For an account of various similar superstitions connected with Wednesday and +Thursday, see Mannhardt’s “Germanische Mythen,” p. 15, 16, and W. Schmidt’s +“Das Jahr und seine Tage,” p. 19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_255_255" id="Footnote_255_255"></a><a href="#FNanchor_255_255"><span class="label">[255]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Rhudyakof in original">Khudyakof</ins>, No. 166. From the Orel Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_256_256" id="Footnote_256_256"></a><a href="#FNanchor_256_256"><span class="label">[256]</span></a> Doubtful. The Russian word is “Svarit,” properly “to cook.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_257_257" id="Footnote_257_257"></a><a href="#FNanchor_257_257"><span class="label">[257]</span></a> Compare the English nursery rhyme addressed to the lady-bird:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Lady-bird, lady-bird, fly away home,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your house is a-fire, your children at home.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_258_258" id="Footnote_258_258"></a><a href="#FNanchor_258_258"><span class="label">[258]</span></a> Wednesday in this, and Friday in the preceding story, are the exact counterparts +of Lithuanian Laumes. According to Schleicher (“Lituanica,” p. 109), Thursday +evening is called in Lithuania <i>Laumiú vákars</i>, the Laume’s Eve. No work +ought to be done on a Thursday evening, and it is especially imprudent to spin then. +For at night, when the Laumes come, as they are accustomed to do between Thursday +evening and Friday morning, they seize any spinning which has been begun, work +away at it till cock-crow, and then carry it off. In modern Greece the women attribute +all nightly meddling with their spinning to the <i>Neraïdes</i> (the representatives of +the Hellenic Nereids. See Bernhard Schmidt’s “Volksleben der Neugriechen,” p. +111). In some respects the <i>Neraïda</i> closely resemble the <i>Lamia</i>, and both of them +have many features in common with the <i>Laume</i>. The latter name (which in Lettish +is written Lauma) has never been satisfactorily explained. Can it be connected with +the Greek <i>Lamia</i> which is now written also as +<ins class="greek" title="Lamnia">Λάμνια</ins>, +<ins class="greek" title="Lamna">Λάμνα</ins> and +<ins class="greek" title="Lamnissa">Λάμνισσα</ins>?</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_259_259" id="Footnote_259_259"></a><a href="#FNanchor_259_259"><span class="label">[259]</span></a> The word <i>Nedyelya</i> now means “a week.” But it originally meant Sunday, +the non-working day (<i>ne</i> = not, <i>dyelat’</i> = to do or work.) After a time, the name +for the first day of the week became transferred to the week itself.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_260_260" id="Footnote_260_260"></a><a href="#FNanchor_260_260"><span class="label">[260]</span></a> That of “Wilisch Witiâsu,” Schott, No. 11.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_261_261" id="Footnote_261_261"></a><a href="#FNanchor_261_261"><span class="label">[261]</span></a> That of “Trandafíru,” Schott, No. 23.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_262_262" id="Footnote_262_262"></a><a href="#FNanchor_262_262"><span class="label">[262]</span></a> J. Wenzig’s “Westslawischer Märchenschatz,” pp. 144-155. According to +Wenzig Nedĕlka is “the personified first Sunday after the new moon.” The part +here attributed to St. Nedĕlka is played by a Vila in one of the Songs of Montenegro. +According to an ancient Indian tradition, the Aswattha-tree “is to be touched only on +a Sunday, for on every other day Poverty or Misfortune abides in it: on Sunday it +is the residence of Lakshmí” (Good Fortune). H. H. Wilson “Works,” iii. 70.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_263_263" id="Footnote_263_263"></a><a href="#FNanchor_263_263"><span class="label">[263]</span></a> “Songs of the Russian People,” pp. 120-153.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_264_264" id="Footnote_264_264"></a><a href="#FNanchor_264_264"><span class="label">[264]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 33. The name Léshy or Lyeshy is derived from <i>lyes</i>, a forest.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_265_265" id="Footnote_265_265"></a><a href="#FNanchor_265_265"><span class="label">[265]</span></a> Literally “as a <i>lun</i>,” a kind of hawk (<i>falco rusticolus</i>). <i>Lun</i> also means a +greyish light.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_266_266" id="Footnote_266_266"></a><a href="#FNanchor_266_266"><span class="label">[266]</span></a> <i>Ottogo ya i cyed chto chortof dyed.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_267_267" id="Footnote_267_267"></a><a href="#FNanchor_267_267"><span class="label">[267]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i>, <ins class="correction" title="i.i. in original">ii.</ins> 226.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_268_268" id="Footnote_268_268"></a><a href="#FNanchor_268_268"><span class="label">[268]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. No. 40. From the Tver Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_269_269" id="Footnote_269_269"></a><a href="#FNanchor_269_269"><span class="label">[269]</span></a> Translated literally from Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> ii. 227.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_270_270" id="Footnote_270_270"></a><a href="#FNanchor_270_270"><span class="label">[270]</span></a> Yastreb = vulture or goshawk</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_271_271" id="Footnote_271_271"></a><a href="#FNanchor_271_271"><span class="label">[271]</span></a> Quoted from <ins class="correction" title="Borichesky in original">Borichefsky</ins> (pp. 183-5) by Afanasief.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_272_272" id="Footnote_272_272"></a><a href="#FNanchor_272_272"><span class="label">[272]</span></a> Tereshchenko, v. 43, 44.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_273_273" id="Footnote_273_273"></a><a href="#FNanchor_273_273"><span class="label">[273]</span></a> Literally “Life disgusted them worse than a bitter radish.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_274_274" id="Footnote_274_274"></a><a href="#FNanchor_274_274"><span class="label">[274]</span></a> Translated literally from Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> ii. 230.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_275_275" id="Footnote_275_275"></a><a href="#FNanchor_275_275"><span class="label">[275]</span></a> “Deutsche Mythologie,” 462.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_276_276" id="Footnote_276_276"></a><a href="#FNanchor_276_276"><span class="label">[276]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>loc. cit.</i> p. 231.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_277_277" id="Footnote_277_277"></a><a href="#FNanchor_277_277"><span class="label">[277]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. No. 42. From the Vologda Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_278_278" id="Footnote_278_278"></a><a href="#FNanchor_278_278"><span class="label">[278]</span></a> <i>Chelpan</i>, a sort of dough cake, or pie without stuffing.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_279_279" id="Footnote_279_279"></a><a href="#FNanchor_279_279"><span class="label">[279]</span></a> <i>Bogatir</i> is the regular term for a Russian “hero of romance.” Its origin is +disputed, but it appears to be of Tartar extraction.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_280_280" id="Footnote_280_280"></a><a href="#FNanchor_280_280"><span class="label">[280]</span></a> <i>Nast</i>, snow that has thawed and frozen again.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_281_281" id="Footnote_281_281"></a><a href="#FNanchor_281_281"><span class="label">[281]</span></a> <i>Suzhenoi-ryazhenoi.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_282_282" id="Footnote_282_282"></a><a href="#FNanchor_282_282"><span class="label">[282]</span></a> <i>Zhenikhi.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_283_283" id="Footnote_283_283"></a><a href="#FNanchor_283_283"><span class="label">[283]</span></a> <i>Sil’no priudaril</i>, mightily smote harder.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_284_284" id="Footnote_284_284"></a><a href="#FNanchor_284_284"><span class="label">[284]</span></a> <i>Okostenyeli</i>, were petrified.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_285_285" id="Footnote_285_285"></a><a href="#FNanchor_285_285"><span class="label">[285]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> i. 318-19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_286_286" id="Footnote_286_286"></a><a href="#FNanchor_286_286"><span class="label">[286]</span></a> Ibid. i. 312.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_287_287" id="Footnote_287_287"></a><a href="#FNanchor_287_287"><span class="label">[287]</span></a> As with Der Frostige in the German story of “Die sechs Diener,” <i>KM.</i>, No. 134, +p. 519, and “The Man with the White Hat,” in that of “Sechse kommen durch die +ganze Welt,” No. 71, p. 295, and their variants in different lands. See Grimm, iii. +p. 122.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_288_288" id="Footnote_288_288"></a><a href="#FNanchor_288_288"><span class="label">[288]</span></a> No. 13, “The Stepmother’s Daughter and the Stepdaughter,” written down in +Kazan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_289_289" id="Footnote_289_289"></a><a href="#FNanchor_289_289"><span class="label">[289]</span></a> This is a thoroughly Buddhistic idea. According to Buddhist belief, the treasure +which has belonged to anyone in a former existence may come to him in the shape +of a man who, when killed, turns to gold. The first story of the fifth book of the +“Panchatantra,” is based upon an idea of this kind. A man is told in a vision to kill a +monk. He does so, and the monk becomes a heap of gold. A barber, seeing this, +kills several monks, but to no purpose. See Benfey’s Introduction, pp. 477-8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_290_290" id="Footnote_290_290"></a><a href="#FNanchor_290_290"><span class="label">[290]</span></a> For an account of the <i>ovin</i>, and the respect paid to it or to the demons supposed +to haunt it see “The Songs of the Russian People,” p. 257.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_291_291" id="Footnote_291_291"></a><a href="#FNanchor_291_291"><span class="label">[291]</span></a> Chudinsky, No. 13. “The Daughter and the Stepdaughter.” From the +Nijegorod Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_292_292" id="Footnote_292_292"></a><a href="#FNanchor_292_292"><span class="label">[292]</span></a> <i>Vikhr’</i> or <i>Vikhor’</i> from <i>vit’</i>, to whirl or twist.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_293_293" id="Footnote_293_293"></a><a href="#FNanchor_293_293"><span class="label">[293]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 82. The story ends in the same way as that of Norka. See +supra, p. <a href="#Page_73">73</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_294_294" id="Footnote_294_294"></a><a href="#FNanchor_294_294"><span class="label">[294]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 86. Morfei the Cook is merely a development of the magic +cudgel which in so many stories (<i>e.g.</i> the sixth of the Calmuck tales) is often exchanged +for other treasures by its master, to whom it soon returns—it being itself a +degraded form of the hammer of Thor, the lance of Indra, which always came back +to the divine hand that had hurled it.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_295_295" id="Footnote_295_295"></a><a href="#FNanchor_295_295"><span class="label">[295]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 19. The rest of the story is that of “Der Gaudief un sin +Meester,” Grimm’s <i>KM.</i> No. 68. (See also vol. iii. p. 118 of that work, where a +long list is given of similar stories in various languages.)</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT.</h3> + + +<p>Most of the magical “properties” of the “skazka-drama,” +closely resemble those which have already been rendered +familiar to us by well-known folk-tales. Of such as these—of +“caps of darkness,” of “seven-leagued boots,” of +“magic cudgels,” of “Fortunatus’s purses,” and the like<a name="FNanchor_296_296" id="FNanchor_296_296"></a><a href="#Footnote_296_296" class="fnanchor">[296]</a>—it +is unnecessary, for the present, to say more than that +they are of as common occurrence in Slavonic as in other +stories. But there are some among them which materially +differ from their counterparts in more western lands, and +are therefore worthy of special notice. To the latter class +belong the Dolls of which mention has already been made, +and the Waters of Life and Death of which I am now +about to speak.</p> + +<p>A Water of Life plays an important part in the folk-tales +of every land.<a name="FNanchor_297_297" id="FNanchor_297_297"></a><a href="#Footnote_297_297" class="fnanchor">[297]</a> When the hero of a “fairy story” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> +has been done to death by evil hands, his resuscitation by +means of a healing and vivifying lotion or ointment<a name="FNanchor_298_298" id="FNanchor_298_298"></a><a href="#Footnote_298_298" class="fnanchor">[298]</a> follows +almost as a matter of course. And by common consent +the Raven (or some sort of crow) is supposed to +know where this invaluable specific is to be found,<a name="FNanchor_299_299" id="FNanchor_299_299"></a><a href="#Footnote_299_299" class="fnanchor">[299]</a> a +knowledge which it shares with various supernatural beings +as well as with some human adepts in magic, and sometimes +with the Snake. In all these matters the Russian +and the Western tales agree, but the Skazka differs from +most stories of its kind in this respect, that it almost invariably +speaks of <i>two</i> kinds of magic waters as being employed +for the restoration of life. We have already seen +in the story of “Marya Morevna,” that one of these, sometimes +called the <i>mertvaya voda</i>—the “dead water,” or +“Water of Death”—when sprinkled over a mutilated +corpse, heals all its wounds; while the other, which bears +the name of the <i>zhivaya voda</i>,—the “living water,” or +“Water of Life”—endows it once more with vitality.</p> + +<div class="note"> +<p>[In a Norse tale in Asbjörnsen’s new series, No. 72, mention is made of a Water +of Death, as opposed to a Water of Life. The Death Water (<i>Doasens Vana</i>) throws +all whom it touches into a magic sleep, from which only Life Water (<i>Livsens Vand</i>) +can rouse them (p. 57). In the Rámáyana, Hanuman fetches four different kinds of +herbs in order to resuscitate his dead monkeys: “the first restore the dead to life, the +second drive away all pain, the third join broken parts, the fourth cure all wounds, +&c.” Talboys Wheeler, “History of India,” ii. 368. In the Egyptian story already +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> +mentioned (at p. 113), Satou’s corpse quivers and opens its eyes when his heart has +become saturated with a healing liquid. But he does not actually come to life till the +remainder of the liquid has been poured down his throat.</p> + +<p>In a Kirghiz story, quoted by Bronevsky,<a name="FNanchor_300_300" id="FNanchor_300_300"></a><a href="#Footnote_300_300" class="fnanchor">[300]</a> a golden-haired hero finds, after long +search, the maiden to whom he had in very early life been betrothed. Her father has +him murdered. She persuades the murderer to show her the body of her dead love, +and weeps over it bitterly. A spirit appears and tells her to sprinkle it with water +from a neighboring well. The well is very deep, but she induces the murderer to +allow her to lower him into it by means of her remarkably long hair. He descends +and hands up to her a cup of water. Having received it, she cuts off her hair, and +lets the murderer drop and be drowned. Then she sprinkles her lover’s corpse with +the water, and he revives. But he lives only three days. She refuses to survive +him, and is buried by his side. From the graves of the lovers spring two willows, +which mingle their boughs as if in an embrace. And the neighbors set up near the +spot three statues, his and hers and her nurse’s.</p> + +<p>Such is the story, says Bronevsky, which the Kirghiz tell with respect to some +statues of unknown origin which stand (or used to stand) near the Ayaguza, a river +falling into Lake Balkhash. A somewhat similar Armenian story is quoted by Haxthausen +in his Transcaucasia (p. 350 of the English translation).</p> + +<p>In the Kalevala, when Lemmenkäinen has been torn to pieces, his mother collects +his scattered remains, and by a dexterous synthetical operation restores him to physical +unity. But the silence of death still possesses him. Then she entreats the Bee to +bring vivifying honey. After two fruitless journeys, the Bee succeeds in bringing back +honey “from the cellar of the Creator.” When this has been applied, the dead man +returns to life, sits up, and says in the words of the Russian heroes—“How long I +have slept!”<a name="FNanchor_301_301" id="FNanchor_301_301"></a><a href="#Footnote_301_301" class="fnanchor">[301]</a></p> + +<p>Here is another instance of a life-giving operation of a double nature. There is a +well-known Indian story about four suitors for the hand of one girl. She dies, but is +restored to life by one of her lovers, who happens one day to see a dead child resuscitated, +and learns how to perform similar miracles. In two Sanskrit versions of the +“Vetálapanchavinsati,”<a name="FNanchor_302_302" id="FNanchor_302_302"></a><a href="#Footnote_302_302" class="fnanchor">[302]</a> as well as in the Hindi version,<a name="FNanchor_303_303" id="FNanchor_303_303"></a><a href="#Footnote_303_303" class="fnanchor">[303]</a> the life-giving charm +consists in a spell taken from a book of magic. But in the Tamil version, the process +is described as being of a different and double nature. According to it, the mother of +the murdered child “by the charm called <i>sisupàbam</i> re-created the body, and, by the +incantation called <i>sanjìvi</i>, restored it to life.” The suitor, having learnt the charm +and the incantation, “took the bones and the ashes (of the dead girl), and having +created out of them the body, by virtue of the charm <i>sisupàbam</i> gave life to that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +body by the <i>sanjìvi</i> incantation.” According to Mr. Babington, “Sanjìvi is defined +by the Tamuls to be a medicine which restores to life by dissipating a mortal swoon.... +In the text the word is used for the art of using this medicine.”<a name="FNanchor_304_304" id="FNanchor_304_304"></a><a href="#Footnote_304_304" class="fnanchor">[304]</a>]</p> +</div> + +<p>As a general rule, the two waters of which mention is +made in the Skazkas possess the virtues, and are employed +in the manner, mentioned above; but there are cases in +which their powers are of a different nature. Sometimes +we meet with two magic fluids, one of which heals all +wounds, and restores sight to the blind and vigor to the +cripple, while the other destroys all that it touches. Sometimes, +also, recourse is had to magic draughts of two kinds, +the one of which strengthens him who quaffs it, while the +other produces the opposite effect. Such liquors as these +are known as the “Waters of Strength and Weakness,” +and are usually described as being stowed away in the +cellar of some many-headed Snake. For the Snake is +often mentioned as the possessor, or at least the guardian, +of magic fluids. Thus one of the Skazkas<a name="FNanchor_305_305" id="FNanchor_305_305"></a><a href="#Footnote_305_305" class="fnanchor">[305]</a> speaks of a +wondrous garden, in which are two springs of healing and +vivifying water, and around that garden is coiled like a +ring a mighty serpent. Another tells how a flying Snake +brought two heroes to a lake, into which they flung a green +bough, and immediately the bough broke into flame and +was consumed. Then it took them to another lake, into +which they cast a mouldy log. And the log straightway +began to put forth buds and blossoms.<a name="FNanchor_306_306" id="FNanchor_306_306"></a><a href="#Footnote_306_306" class="fnanchor">[306]</a></p> + +<p>In some cases the magic waters are the property, not +of a Snake, but of one of the mighty heroines who so often +occur in these stories, and who bear so great a resemblance +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +to <ins class="correction" title="Brynhildr in original">Brynhild</ins>, as well in other respects as in that of her enchanted +sleep. Thus in one of the Skazkas<a name="FNanchor_307_307" id="FNanchor_307_307"></a><a href="#Footnote_307_307" class="fnanchor">[307]</a> an aged +king dreams that “beyond thrice nine lands, in the thirtieth +country, there is a fair maiden from whose hands and feet +water is flowing, of which water he who drinks will become +thirty years younger.” His sons go forth in search of this +youth-giving liquid, and, after many adventures, the youngest +is directed to the golden castle in which lives the “fair +maiden,” whom his father has seen in his vision. He has +been told that when she is awake her custom is to divert +herself in the green fields with her Amazon host—“for +nine days she rambles about, and then for nine days she +sleeps a heroic slumber.” The Prince hides himself among +the bushes near the castle, and sees a fair maiden come +out of it surrounded by an armed band, “and all the band +consists of maidens, each one more beautiful than the +other. And the most beautiful, the most never-enough-to-be-gazed-upon, +is the Queen herself.” For nine days he +watches the fair band of Amazons as they ramble about. +On the tenth day all is still, and he enters the castle. In +the midst of her slumbering guards sleeps the Queen on a +couch of down, the healing water flowing from her hands +and feet. With it he fills two flasks, and then he retires. +When the Queen awakes, she becomes conscious of the +theft and pursues the Prince. Coming up with him, she +slays him with a single blow, but then takes compassion +on him, and restores him to life.</p> + +<p>In another version of the story, the precious fluid is +contained in a flask which is hidden under the pillow of +the slumbering “Tsar Maiden.” The Prince steals it +and flees, but he bears on him the weight of sin, and so, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> +when he tries to clear the fence which girds the enchanted +castle, his horse strikes one of the cords attached to it, +and the spell is broken which maintains the magic sleep +in which the realm is locked. The Tsar Maiden pursues +the thief, but does not succeed in catching him. He is +killed, however, by his elder brothers, who “cut him into +small pieces,” and then take the flask of magic water to +their father. The murdered prince is resuscitated by the +mythical bird known by the name of the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>, which +collects his scattered fragments, puts them together, and +sprinkles them first with “dead water” and then with “live-water,”—conveyed +for that purpose in its beak—after which +the prince gets up, thanks his reviver, and goes his way.<a name="FNanchor_308_308" id="FNanchor_308_308"></a><a href="#Footnote_308_308" class="fnanchor">[308]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the numerous variants of the story in which +a prince is exposed to various dangers by his sister—who +is induced to plot against his life by her demon lover, the +Snake—the hero is sent in search of “a healing and a +vivifying water,” preserved between two lofty mountains +which cleave closely together, except during “two or three +minutes” of each day. He follows his instructions, rides +to a certain spot, and there awaits the hour at which the +mountains fly apart. “Suddenly a terrible hurricane arose, +a mighty thunder smote, and the two mountains were +torn asunder. Prince Ivan spurred his heroic steed, flew +like a dart between the mountains, dipped two flasks in +the waters, and instantly turned back.” He himself escapes +safe and sound, but the hind legs of his horse are +caught between the closing cliffs, and smashed to pieces. +The magic waters, of course, soon remedy this temporary +inconvenience.<a name="FNanchor_309_309" id="FNanchor_309_309"></a><a href="#Footnote_309_309" class="fnanchor">[309]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +In a Slovak version of this story, a murderous mother +sends her son to two mountains, each of which is cleft +open once in every twenty-four hours—the one opening at +midday and the other at midnight; the former disclosing +the Water of Life, the latter the Water of Death.<a name="FNanchor_310_310" id="FNanchor_310_310"></a><a href="#Footnote_310_310" class="fnanchor">[310]</a> In a +similar story from the Ukraine, mention is made of two +springs of healing and life-giving water, which are guarded +by iron-beaked ravens, and the way to which lies between +grinding hills. The Fox and the Hare are sent in quest +of the magic fluid. The Fox goes and returns in safety, +but the Hare, on her way back, is not in time quite to +clear the meeting cliffs, and her tail is jammed in between +them. Since that time, hares have had no tails.<a name="FNanchor_311_311" id="FNanchor_311_311"></a><a href="#Footnote_311_311" class="fnanchor">[311]</a></p> + +<p>On the Waters of Strength and Weakness much stress +is laid in many of the tales about the many-headed Snakes +which carry off men’s wives and daughters to their metallic +castles. In one of these, for instance, the golden-haired +Queen Anastasia has been torn away by a whirlwind from +her husband “Tsar Byel Byelyanin” [the White King]. +As in the variant of the story already quoted,<a name="FNanchor_312_312" id="FNanchor_312_312"></a><a href="#Footnote_312_312" class="fnanchor">[312]</a> her sons go +in search of her, and the youngest of them, after finding +three palaces—the first of copper, the second of silver, the +third of gold, each containing a princess held captive by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +Vikhor, the whirlwind—comes to a fourth palace gleaming +with diamonds and other precious stones. In it he discovers +his long-lost mother, who gladly greets him, and at once +takes him into Vikhor’s cellar. Here is the account of what +ensued.</p> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Well, they entered the cellar; there stood two tubs of water, +the one on the right hand, the other on the left. Says the +Queen—</p> + +<p>“Take a draught of the water that stands on the right +hand.” Prince Ivan drank of it.</p> + +<p>“Now then, how strong do you feel?” said she.</p> + +<p>“So strong that I could upset the whole palace with one +hand,” he replied.</p> + +<p>“Come now, drink again.”</p> + +<p>The Prince drank once more.</p> + +<p>“How strong do you feel now?” she asked.</p> + +<p>“Why now, if I wanted, I could give the whole world a +jolt.”</p> + +<p>“Oh that’s plenty then! Now make these tubs change +places—that which stands on the right, set on the left: and +that which is on the left, change to the right.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan took the tubs and made them change places. +Says the Queen—</p> + +<p>“See now, my dear son; in one of these tubs is the ‘Water +of Strength,’ in the other is the ‘Water of Weakness.’<a name="FNanchor_313_313" id="FNanchor_313_313"></a><a href="#Footnote_313_313" class="fnanchor">[313]</a> He +who drinks of the former becomes a mighty hero, but he who +drinks of the second loses all his vigor. Vikhor always quaffs +the Strong Water, and places it on the right-hand side; therefore +you must deceive him, or you will never be able to hold +out against him.”</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The Queen proceeds to tell her son that, when Vikhor +comes home, he must hide beneath her purple cloak, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +watch for an opportunity of seizing her gaoler’s magic mace.<a name="FNanchor_314_314" id="FNanchor_314_314"></a><a href="#Footnote_314_314" class="fnanchor">[314]</a> +Vikhor will fly about till he is tired, and will then have +recourse to what he supposes is the “Strong Water;” this +will render him so feeble that the Prince will be able to kill +him. Having received these instructions, and having been +warned not to strike Vikhor after he is dead, the Prince +conceals himself. Suddenly the day becomes darkened, +the palace quivers, and Vikhor arrives; stamping on the +ground, he becomes a noble gallant, who enters the palace, +“holding in his hands a battle mace.” This Prince Ivan +seizes, and a long struggle takes place between him and +Vikhor, who flies away with him over seas and into the +clouds. At last, Vikhor becomes exhausted and seeks the +place where he expects to find the invigorating draught +on which he is accustomed to rely. The result is as follows:</p> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Dropping right into his cellar, Vikhor ran to the tub which +stood on the right, and began drinking the Water of Weakness. +But Prince Ivan rushed to the left, quaffed a deep draught of +the Water of Strength, and became the mightiest hero in the +whole world. Then seeing that Vikhor was perfectly enfeebled, +he snatched from him his keen faulchion, and with a single +blow struck off his head. Behind him voices began to cry:</p> + +<p>“Strike again! strike again! or he will come to life!”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the Prince, “a hero’s hand does not strike +twice, but finishes its work with a single blow.” And straightway +he lighted a fire, burnt the head and the trunk, and scattered +the ashes to the winds.<a name="FNanchor_315_315" id="FNanchor_315_315"></a><a href="#Footnote_315_315" class="fnanchor">[315]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The part played by the Water of Strength in this story +may be compared with “the important share which the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> +exhilarating juice of the Soma-plant assumes in bracing +Indra for his conflict with the hostile powers in the atmosphere,” +and Vikhor’s sudden debility with that of Indra +when the Asura Namuchi “drank up Indra’s strength +along with a draught of wine and soma.”<a name="FNanchor_316_316" id="FNanchor_316_316"></a><a href="#Footnote_316_316" class="fnanchor">[316]</a></p> + +<p>Sometimes, as has already been remarked, one of the +two magic waters is even more injurious than the Water +of Weakness.<a name="FNanchor_317_317" id="FNanchor_317_317"></a><a href="#Footnote_317_317" class="fnanchor">[317]</a> The following may be taken as a specimen +of the stories in which there is introduced a true +Water of Death—one of those deadly springs which bear +the same relation to the healing and vivifying founts that +the enfeebling bears to the strengthening water. The +Baba Yaga who figures in it is, as is so often the case, replaced +by a Snake in the variant to which allusion has +already been made.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Blind Man and the Cripple.</span><a name="FNanchor_318_318" id="FNanchor_318_318"></a><a href="#Footnote_318_318" class="fnanchor">[318]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain kingdom there lived a king and queen; they had a +son, Prince Ivan, and to look after that son was appointed a +tutor named Katoma.<a name="FNanchor_319_319" id="FNanchor_319_319"></a><a href="#Footnote_319_319" class="fnanchor">[319]</a> The king and queen lived to a great +age, but then they fell ill, and despaired of ever recovering. So +they sent for Prince Ivan and strictly enjoined him:</p> + +<p>“When we are dead, do you in everything respect and obey +Katoma. If you obey him, you will prosper; but if you choose +to be disobedient, you will perish like a fly.”</p> + +<p>The next day the king and queen died. Prince Ivan buried +his parents, and took to living according to their instructions. +Whatever he had to do, he always consulted his tutor about it.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +Some time passed by. The Prince attained to man’s estate, +and began to think about getting married. So one day he went +to his tutor and said:</p> + +<p>“Katoma, I’m tired of living alone, I want to marry.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Prince! what’s to prevent you? you’re of an age at +which it’s time to think about a bride. Go into the great hall. +There’s a collection there of the portraits of all the princesses in +the world; look at them and choose for yourself; whichever +pleases you, to her send a proposal of marriage.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan went into the great hall, and began examining +the portraits. And the one that pleased him best was that of the +Princess Anna the Fair—such a beauty! the like of her wasn’t +to be found in the whole world! Underneath her portrait were +written these words:</p> + +<p>“If any one asks her a riddle, and she does not guess it, him +shall she marry; but he whose riddle she guesses shall have his +head chopped off.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan read this inscription, became greatly afflicted, and +went off to his tutor.</p> + +<p>“I’ve been in the great hall,” says he, “and I picked out for +my bride Anna the Fair; only I don’t know whether it’s possible +to win her.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Prince; she’s hard to get. If you go alone, you +won’t win her anyhow. But if you will take me with you, and +if you will do what I tell you, perhaps the affair can be managed.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan begged Katoma to go with him, and gave his +word of honor to obey him whether in joy or grief.</p> + +<p>Well, they got ready for the journey and set off to sue for the +hand of the Princess Anna the Fair. They travelled for one +year, two years, three years, and traversed many countries. +Says Prince Ivan—</p> + +<p>“We’ve been travelling all this time, uncle, and now we’re +approaching the country of Princess Anna the Fair; and yet we +don’t know what riddle to propound.”</p> + +<p>“We shall manage to think of one in good time,” replied +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +Katoma. They went a little farther. Katoma was looking down +on the road, and on it lay a purse full of money. He lifted it up +directly, poured all the money out of it into his own purse, and +said—</p> + +<p>“Here’s a riddle for you, Prince Ivan! When you come +into the presence of the Princess, propound a riddle to her in +these words: ‘As we were coming along, we saw Good lying on +the road, and we took up the Good with Good, and placed it in +our own Good!’ That riddle she won’t guess in a lifetime; but +any other one she would find out directly. She would only have +to look into her magic-book, and as soon as she had guessed it, +she’d order your head to be cut off.”</p> + +<p>Well, at last Prince Ivan and his tutor arrived at the lofty +palace in which lived the fair Princess. At that moment she +happened to be out on the balcony, and when she saw the newcomers, +she sent out to know whence they came and what they +wanted. Prince Ivan replied—</p> + +<p>“I have come from such-and-such a kingdom, and I wish to +sue for the hand of the Princess Anna the Fair.”</p> + +<p>When she was informed of this, the Princess gave orders that +the Prince should enter the palace, and there in the presence of +all the princes and boyars of her council should propound his +riddle.</p> + +<p>“I’ve made this compact,” she said. “Anyone whose riddle +I cannot guess, him I must marry. But anyone whose riddle I +can guess, him I may put to death.”</p> + +<p>“Listen to my riddle, fair princess!” said Prince Ivan. “As +we came along, we saw Good lying on the road, and we took up +the Good with Good, and placed it in our own Good.”</p> + +<p>Princess Anna the Fair took her magic-book, and began +turning over its leaves and examining the answers of riddles. +She went right through the book, but she didn’t get at the meaning +she wanted. Thereupon the princes and boyars of her +council decided that the Princess must marry Prince Ivan. She +wasn’t at all pleased, but there was no help for it, and so she +began to get ready for the wedding. Meanwhile she considered +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +within herself how she could spin out the time and do away with +the bridegroom, and she thought the best way would be to overwhelm +him with tremendous tasks.</p> + +<p>So she called Prince Ivan and said to him—</p> + +<p>“My dear Prince Ivan, my destined husband! It is meet +that we should prepare for the wedding; pray do me this small +service. On such and such a spot of my kingdom there stands +a lofty iron pillar. Carry it into the palace kitchen, and chop it +into small chunks by way of fuel for the cook.”</p> + +<p>“Excuse me, Princess,” replied the prince. “Was it to chop +fuel that I came here? Is that the proper sort of employment +for me? I have a servant for that kind of thing, Katoma <i>dyadka</i>, +of the oaken <i>shapka</i>.”</p> + +<p>The Prince straightway called for his tutor, and ordered +him to drag the iron pillar into the kitchen, and to chop it into +small chunks by way of fuel for the cook. Katoma went to the +spot indicated by the Princess, seized the pillar in his arms, +brought it into the palace kitchen, and broke it into little pieces; +but four of the iron chips he put into his pocket, saying—</p> + +<p>“They’ll prove useful by-and-by!”</p> + +<p>Next day the princess says to Prince Ivan—</p> + +<p>“My dear Prince, my destined husband! to-morrow we have +to go to the wedding. I will drive in a carriage, but you should +ride on a heroic steed, and it is necessary that you should +break him in beforehand.”</p> + +<p>“I break a horse in myself! I keep a servant for that.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan called Katoma, and said—</p> + +<p>“Go into the stable and tell the grooms to bring forth the +heroic steed; sit upon him and break him in; to-morrow I’ve +got to ride him to the wedding.”</p> + +<p>Katoma fathomed the subtle device of the Princess, but, without +stopping long to talk, he went into the stable and told the +grooms to bring forth the heroic steed. Twelve grooms were +mustered, they unlocked twelve locks, opened twelve doors, and +brought forth a magic horse bound in twelve chains of iron. +Katoma went up to him. No sooner had he managed to seat +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +himself than the magic horse leaped up from the ground and +soared higher than the forest—higher than the standing forest, +lower than the flitting cloud. Firm sat Katoma, with one hand +grasping the mane; with the other he took from his pocket an +iron chunk, and began taming the horse with it between the ears. +When he had used up one chunk, he betook himself to another; +when two were used up, he took to a third; when three were +used up, the fourth came into play. And so grievously did he +punish the heroic steed that it could not hold out any longer, +but cried aloud with a human voice—</p> + +<p>“Batyushka Katoma! don’t utterly deprive me of life in the +white world! Whatever you wish, that do you order: all shall +be done according to your will!”</p> + +<p>“Listen, O meat for dogs!” answered Katoma; “to-morrow +Prince Ivan will ride you to the wedding. Now mind! when the +grooms bring you out into the wide courtyard, and the Prince +goes up to you and lays his hand on you, do you stand quietly, +not moving so much as an ear. And when he is seated on your +back, do you sink into the earth right up to your fetlocks, and +then move under him with a heavy step, just as if an immeasurable +weight had been laid upon your back.”</p> + +<p>The heroic steed listened to the order and sank to earth +scarcely alive. Katoma seized him by the tail, and flung him +close to the stable, crying—</p> + +<p>“Ho there! coachmen and grooms; carry off this dog’s-meat +to its stall!”</p> + +<p>The next day arrived; the time drew near for going to the +wedding. The carriage was brought round for the Princess, and +the heroic steed for Prince Ivan. The people were gathered +together from all sides—a countless number. The bride and +bridegroom came out from the white stone halls. The Princess +got into the carriage and waited to see what would become of +Prince Ivan; whether the magic horse would fling his curls to +the wind, and scatter his bones across the open plain. Prince +Ivan approached the horse, laid his hand upon its back, placed +his foot in the stirrup—the horse stood just as if petrified, didn’t +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> +so much as wag an ear! The Prince got on its back, the magic +horse sank into the earth up to its fetlocks. The twelve chains +were taken off the horse, it began to move with an even heavy +pace, while the sweat poured off it just like hail.</p> + +<p>“What a hero! What immeasurable strength!” cried the +people as they gazed upon the Prince.</p> + +<p>So the bride and bridegroom were married, and then they +began to move out of the church, holding each other by the hand. +The Princess took it into her head to make one more trial of +Prince Ivan, so she squeezed his hand so hard that he could not +bear the pain. His face became suffused with blood, his eyes +disappeared beneath his brows.</p> + +<p>“A fine sort of hero you are!” thought the Princess. +“Your tutor has tricked me splendidly; but you sha’n’t get off +for nothing!”</p> + +<p>Princess Anna the Fair lived for some time with Prince Ivan +as a wife ought to live with a god-given<a name="FNanchor_320_320" id="FNanchor_320_320"></a><a href="#Footnote_320_320" class="fnanchor">[320]</a> husband, flattered him +in every way in words, but in reality never thought of anything +except by what means she might get rid of Katoma. With the +Prince, without the tutor, there’d be no difficulty in settling +matters! she said to herself. But whatever slanders she might +invent, Prince Ivan never would allow himself to be influenced +by what she said, but always felt sorry for his tutor. At the end +of a year he said to his wife one day—</p> + +<p>“Beauteous Princess, my beloved spouse! I should like +to go with you to my own kingdom.”</p> + +<p>“By all means,” replied she, “let us go. I myself have +long been wishing to see your kingdom.”</p> + +<p>Well they got ready and went off; Katoma was allotted the +post of coachman. They drove and drove, and as they drove +along Prince Ivan went to sleep. Suddenly the Princess Anna +the Fair awoke him, uttering loud complaints—</p> + +<p>“Listen, Prince, you’re always sleeping, you hear nothing! +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> +But your tutor doesn’t obey me a bit, drives the horses on purpose +over hill and dale, just as if he wanted to put an end to us +both. I tried speaking him fair, but he jeered at me. I won’t go +on living any longer if you don’t punish him!”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan, ’twixt sleeping and waking, waxed very wroth +with his tutor, and handed him over entirely to the Princess, +saying—</p> + +<p>“Deal with him as you please!”</p> + +<p>The Princess ordered his feet to be cut off. Katoma submitted +patiently to the outrage.</p> + +<p>“Very good,” he thinks; “I shall suffer, it’s true; but the +Prince also will know what to lead a wretched life is like!”</p> + +<p>When both of Katoma’s feet had been cut off, the Princess +glanced around, and saw that a tall tree-stump stood on one side; +so she called her servants and ordered them to set him on that +stump. But as for Prince Ivan, she tied him to the carriage by +a cord, turned the horses round, and drove back to her own +kingdom. Katoma was left sitting on the stump, weeping bitter +tears.</p> + +<p>“Farewell, Prince Ivan!” he cries; “you won’t forget me!”</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Prince Ivan was running and bounding behind +the carriage. He knew well enough by this time what a blunder +he had made, but there was no turning back for him. When +the Princess Anna the Fair arrived in her kingdom, she set +Prince Ivan to take care of the cows. Every day he went afield +with the herd at early morn, and in the evening he drove them +back to the royal yard. At that hour the Princess was always +sitting on the balcony, and looking out to see that the number +of the cows were all right.<a name="FNanchor_321_321" id="FNanchor_321_321"></a><a href="#Footnote_321_321" class="fnanchor">[321]</a></p> + +<p>Katoma remained sitting on the stump one day, two days, +three days, without anything to eat or drink. To get down was +utterly impossible, it seemed as if he must die of starvation. +But not far away from that place there was a dense forest. In +that forest was living a mighty hero who was quite blind. The +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> +only way by which he could get himself food was this: whenever +he perceived by the sense of smell that any animal was running +past him, whether a hare, or a fox, or a bear, he immediately started +in chase of it, caught it—and dinner was ready for him. The +hero was exceedingly swift-footed, and there was not a single +wild beast which could run away from him. Well, one day it +fell out thus. A fox slunk past; the hero heard it, and was +after it directly. It ran up to the tall stump, and turned sharp +off on one-side; but the blind hero hurried on, took a spring, +and thumped his forehead against the stump so hard that he +knocked the stump out by the roots. Katoma fell to the ground, +and asked:</p> + +<p>“Who are you?”</p> + +<p>“I’m a blind hero. I’ve been living in the forest for thirty +years. The only way I can get my food is this: to catch some +game or other, and cook it at a wood fire. If it had not been +for that, I should have been starved to death long ago!”</p> + +<p>“You haven’t been blind all your life?”</p> + +<p>“No, not all my life; but Princess Anna the Fair put my +eyes out!”</p> + +<p>“There now, brother!” says Katoma; “and it’s thanks to +her, too, that I’m left here without any feet. She cut them both +off, the accursed one!”</p> + +<p>The two heroes had a talk, and agreed to live together, and +join in getting their food. The blind man says to the lame:</p> + +<p>“Sit on my back and show me the way; I will serve you +with my feet, and you me with your eyes.”</p> + +<p>So he took the cripple and carried him home, and Katoma +sat on his back, kept a look out all round, and cried out from +time to time: “Right! Left! Straight on!” and so forth.</p> + +<p>Well, they lived some time in the forest in that way, and +caught hares, foxes, and bears for their dinner. One day the +cripple says—</p> + +<p>“Surely we can never go on living all our lives without a +soul [to speak to]. I have heard that in such and such a town +lives a rich merchant who has a daughter; and that merchant’s +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> +daughter is exceedingly kind to the poor and crippled. She +gives alms to everyone. Suppose we carry her off, brother, and +let her live here and keep house for us.”</p> + +<p>The blind man took a cart, seated the cripple in it, and rattled +it into the town, straight into the rich merchant’s courtyard. +The merchant’s daughter saw them out of window, and immediately +ran out, and came to give them alms. Approaching the +cripple, she said:</p> + +<p>“Take this, in Christ’s name, poor fellow!”</p> + +<p>He [seemed to be going] to take the gift, but he seized her +by the hand, pulled her into the cart, and called to the blind +man, who ran off with it at such a pace that no one could catch +him, even on horseback. The merchant sent people in pursuit—but +no, they could not come up with him.</p> + +<p>The heroes brought the merchant’s daughter into their forest +hut, and said to her:</p> + +<p>“Be in the place of a sister to us, live here and keep house +for us; otherwise we poor sufferers will have no one to cook +our meals or wash our shirts. God won’t desert you if you do +that!”</p> + +<p>The merchant’s daughter remained with them. The heroes +respected her, loved her, acknowledged her as a sister. They +used to be out hunting all day, but their adopted sister was +always at home. She looked after all the housekeeping, prepared +the meals, washed the linen.</p> + +<p>But after a time a Baba Yaga took to haunting their hut and +sucking the breasts of the merchant’s daughter. No sooner +have the heroes gone off to the chase, than the Baba Yaga is there +in a moment. Before long the fair maiden’s face began to fall +away, and she grew weak and thin. The blind man could see +nothing, but Katoma remarked that things weren’t going well. +He spoke about it to the blind man, and they went together to +their adopted sister, and began questioning her. But the Baba +Yaga had strictly forbidden her to tell the truth. For a long +time she was afraid to acquaint them with her trouble, for a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> +long time she held out, but at last her brothers talked her over +and she told them everything without reserve.</p> + +<p>“Every time you go away to the chase,” says she, “there +immediately appears in the cottage a very old woman with a +most evil face, and long grey hair. And she sets me to dress +her head, and meanwhile she sucks my breasts.”</p> + +<p>“Ah!” says the blind man, “that’s a Baba Yaga. Wait a +bit; we must treat her after her own fashion. To-morrow we +won’t go to the chase, but we’ll try to entice her and lay hands +upon her!”</p> + +<p>So next morning the heroes didn’t go out hunting.</p> + +<p>“Now then, Uncle Footless!” says the blind man, “you +get under the bench, and lie there ever so still, and I’ll go into +the yard and stand under the window. And as for you, sister, +when the Baba Yaga comes, sit down just here, close by the +window; and as you dress her hair, quietly separate the locks +and throw them outside through the window. Just let me lay +hold of her by those grey hairs of hers!”</p> + +<p>What was said was done. The blind man laid hold of the +Baba Yaga by her grey hair, and cried—</p> + +<p>“Ho there, Uncle Katoma! Come out from under the +bench, and lay hold of this viper of a woman, while I go into +the hut!”</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga hears the bad news and tries to jump up to +get her head free. (<i>Where are you off to? That’s no go, sure +<ins class="correction" title="euough in original">enough</ins>!</i><a name="FNanchor_322_322" id="FNanchor_322_322"></a><a href="#Footnote_322_322" class="fnanchor">[322]</a>) She tugs and tugs, but cannot do herself any good!</p> + +<p>Just then from under the bench crawled Uncle Katoma, fell +upon her like a mountain of stone, took to strangling her until +the heaven seemed to her to disappear.<a name="FNanchor_323_323" id="FNanchor_323_323"></a><a href="#Footnote_323_323" class="fnanchor">[323]</a> Then into the cottage +bounded the blind man, crying to the cripple—</p> + +<p>“Now we must heap up a great pile of wood, and consume +this accursed one with fire, and fling her ashes to the wind!”</p> + +<p>The Baba Yaga began imploring them:</p> + +<p>“My fathers! my darlings! forgive me. I will do all that is +right.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +“Very good, old witch! Then show us the fountain of healing +and life-giving water!” said the heroes.</p> + +<p>“Only don’t kill me, and I’ll show it you directly!”</p> + +<p>Well, Katoma sat on the blind man’s back. The blind man +took the Baba Yaga by her back hair, and she led them into the +depths of the forest, brought them to a well,<a name="FNanchor_324_324" id="FNanchor_324_324"></a><a href="#Footnote_324_324" class="fnanchor">[324]</a> and said—</p> + +<p>“That is the water that cures and gives life.”</p> + +<p>“Look out, Uncle Katoma!” cried the blind man; “don’t +make a blunder. If she tricks us now we shan’t get right all +our lives!”</p> + +<p>Katoma cut a green branch off a tree, and flung it into the +well. The bough hadn’t so much as reached the water before +it all burst into a flame!</p> + +<p>“Ha! so you’re still up to your tricks,” said the heroes, and +began to strangle the Baba Yaga, with the intention of flinging +her, the accursed one, into the fiery fount. More than ever +did the Baba Yaga implore for mercy, swearing a great oath +that she would not deceive them this time.</p> + +<p>“On my troth I will bring you to good water,” says she.</p> + +<p>The heroes consented to give her one more trial, and she +took them to another fount.</p> + +<p>Uncle Katoma cut a dry spray from a tree, and flung it into +the fount. The spray had not yet reached the water when it +already turned green, budded, and put forth blossoms.</p> + +<p>“Come now, that’s good water!” said Katoma.</p> + +<p>The blind man wetted his eyes with it, and saw directly. +He lowered the,cripple into the water, and the lame man’s +feet grew again. Then they both rejoiced greatly, and said to +one another, “Now the time has come for us to get all right! +We’ll get everything back again we used to have! Only first +we must make an end of the Baba Yaga. If we were to pardon +her now, we should always be unlucky; she’d be scheming +mischief all her life.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly they went back to the fiery fount, and flung the +Baba Yaga into it; didn’t it soon make an end of her!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +After this Katoma married the merchant’s daughter, and the +three companions went to the kingdom of Anna the Fair in order +to rescue Prince Ivan. When they drew near to the capital, +what should they see but Prince Ivan driving a herd of cows!</p> + +<p>“Stop, herdsman!” says Katoma; “where are you driving +these cows?”</p> + +<p>“I’m driving them to the Princess’s courtyard,” replied the +Prince. “The Princess always sees for herself whether all +the cows are there.”</p> + +<p>“Here, herdsman; take my clothes and put them on, and I +will put on yours and drive the cows.”</p> + +<p>“No, brother! that cannot be done. If the Princess found +<ins class="correction" title="t in original">it</ins> out, I should suffer harm!”</p> + +<p>“Never fear, nothing will happen! Katoma will guarantee +you that.”</p> + +<p>Prince Ivan sighed, and said—</p> + +<p>“Ah, good man! If Katoma had been alive, I should not +have been feeding these cows afield!”</p> + +<p>Then Katoma disclosed to him who he was. Prince Ivan +warmly embraced him and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>“I never hoped even to see you again,” said he.</p> + +<p>So they exchanged clothes. The tutor drove the cows to +the Princess’s courtyard. Anna the Fair went into the balcony, +looked to see if all the cows were there, and ordered them to be +driven into the sheds. All the cows went into the sheds except +the last one, which remained at the gate. Katoma sprang at it, +exclaiming—</p> + +<p>“What are you waiting for, dog’s-meat?”</p> + +<p>Then he seized it by the tail, and pulled it so hard that he +pulled the cow’s hide right off! The Princess saw this, and +cried with a loud voice:</p> + +<p>“What is that brute of a cowherd doing? Seize him and +bring him to me!”</p> + +<p>Then the servants seized Katoma and dragged him to the +palace. He went with them, making no excuses, relying on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> +himself. They brought him to the Princess. She looked at +him and asked—</p> + +<p>“Who are you? Where do you come from?”</p> + +<p>“I am he whose feet you cut off and whom you set on a +stump. My name is Katoma <i>dyadka</i>, oaken <i>shapka</i>.”</p> + +<p>“Well,” thinks the Princess, “now that he’s got his feet +back again, I must act straight-forwardly with him for the +future.”</p> + +<p>And she began to beseech him and the Prince to pardon +her. She confessed all her sins, and swore an oath always to +love Prince Ivan, and to obey him in all things. Prince Ivan +forgave her, and began to live with her in peace and concord. +The hero who had been blind remained with them, but Katoma +and his wife went to the house of [her father] the rich merchant, +and took up their abode under his roof.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[There is a story in the “Panchatantra” (v. 12) which, in default of other parallels, +may be worth comparing with that part of this Skazka which refers to the blind +man and the cripple in the forest. Here is an outline of it:—</p> + +<p>To a certain king a daughter is born who has three breasts. Deeming her presence +unfortunate, he offers a hundred thousand purses of gold to anyone who will +marry her and take her away. For a long time no man takes advantage of the offer, +but at last a blind man, who goes about led by a hunchback named Mantharaka or +Cripple, marries her, receives the gold, and is sent far away with his wife and his +friend. All three live together in the same house. After a time the wife falls in love +with the hunchback and conspires with him to kill her husband. For this purpose +she boils a snake, intending to poison her husband with it. But he stirs the snake-broth +as it is cooking, and the steam which rises from it cures his blindness. Seeing +the snake in the pot, he guesses what has occurred, so he pretends to be still blind, +and watches his wife and his friend. They, not knowing he can see, embrace in his +presence, whereupon he catches up the “cripple” by the legs, and dashes him against +his wife. So violent is the blow that her third breast is driven out of sight and the +hunchback is beaten straight. Benfey (whose version of the story differs at the end +from that given by Wilson, “Essays,” ii. 74) in his remarks on this story (i. p. 510-15), +which he connects with Buddhist legends, observes that it occurs also in the +“Tuti-Nameh” (Rosen, ii. 228), but there the hunchback is replaced by a comely +youth, and the similarity with the Russian story disappears. For a solar explanation +of the Indian story see A. de Gubernatis, “Zool. Mythology,” i. 85.]</p></div> + +<p>Of this story there are many variants. In one of them<a name="FNanchor_325_325" id="FNanchor_325_325"></a><a href="#Footnote_325_325" class="fnanchor">[325]</a> a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +king promises to reward with vast wealth anyone who will +find him “a bride fairer than the sun, brighter than the +moon, and whiter than snow.” A certain moujik, named +Nikita Koltoma, offers to show him where a princess lives +who answers to this description, and goes forth with him +in search of her. On the way, Nikita enters several forges, +desiring to have a war mace cast for him, and in one of +them he finds fifty smiths tormenting an old man. Ten +of them are holding him by the beard with pincers, the +others are thundering away at his ribs with their hammers. +Finding that the cause of this punishment is an unpaid +debt of fifty roubles, Nikita ransoms the greybeard, who +straightway disappears. Nikita obtains the mace he wants, +which weighs fifty poods, or nearly a ton, and leaves the +forge. Presently the old man whom he has ransomed +comes running up to him, thanks him for having rescued +him from a punishment which had already lasted thirty +years, and bestows on him, as a token of gratitude, a Cap +of Invisibility.</p> + +<p>Soon after this Nikita, attended by the king and his +followers, reaches the palace of the royal heroine, Helena +the Fair. She at first sends her warriors to capture or +slay the unwelcome visitors, but Nikita attacks them with +his mace, and leaves scarce one alive. Then she invites +the king and his suite to the palace, having prepared in +the mean time a gigantic bow fitted with a fiery arrow, +wherewith to annihilate her guests. Guessing this, Nikita +puts on his Cap of Invisibility, bends the bow, and shoots +the arrow into the queen’s <i>terema</i> [the women’s chambers], +and in a moment the whole upper story is in a blaze. +After that the queen submits, and is married to the king.</p> + +<p>But Nikita warns him that for three nights running his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +bride will make trial of his strength by laying her hand on +his breast and pressing it hard—so hard that he will not +be able to bear the pressure. When that happens, he +must slip out of the room, and let Nikita take his place. +All this comes to pass; the bride lays her hand on the +bridegroom’s breast, and says—</p> + +<p>“Is my hand heavy?”</p> + +<p>“As a feather on water!” replies the king, who can +scarcely draw his breath beneath the crushing weight of +the hand he has won. Then he leaves the room, under +the pretext of giving an order, and Nikita takes his place. +The queen renews the experiment, presses with one hand, +presses with both, and with all her might. Nikita catches +her up, and then flings her down on the floor. The room +shakes beneath the blow, the bride “arises, lies down +quietly, and goes to sleep,” and Nikita is replaced by the +king. By the end of the third night the queen gives up all +hope of squeezing her husband to death, and makes up +her mind to conjugal submission.<a name="FNanchor_326_326" id="FNanchor_326_326"></a><a href="#Footnote_326_326" class="fnanchor">[326]</a></p> + +<p>But before long, she, like Brynhild, finds out that she +has been tricked, and resolves on revenge. Throwing +Nikita into a slumber which lasts for twenty-four hours, +she has his feet cut off, and sets him adrift in a boat; then +she degrades her husband, turning him into a swineherd, +and she puts out the eyes of Nikita’s brother Timofei. In +the course of time the brothers obtain from a Baba Yaga +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +the healing and vivifying waters, and so recover the eyes +and feet they had lost. The Witch-Queen is put to death, +and Nikita lives happily as the King’s Prime Minister. +The specific actions of the two waters are described with +great precision in this story. When the lame man sprinkles +his legs with the Healing Water, they become whole at +once; “his legs are quite sound, only they don’t move.” +Then he applies the Vivifying Water, and the use of his +legs returns to him. Similarly when the blind man applies +the Healing Water to his empty orbits, he obtains new eyes—“perfectly +faultless eyes, only he cannot see with them;” +he applies the Vivifying Water, “and begins to see even +better than before.”</p> + +<p>In a Ryazan variant of the story,<a name="FNanchor_327_327" id="FNanchor_327_327"></a><a href="#Footnote_327_327" class="fnanchor">[327]</a> Ivan Dearly-Bought, +after his legs have been cut off at the knees, and he has +been left in a forest, is found by a giant who has no arms, +but who is so fleet that “no post could catch him up.” +The two maimed heroes form an alliance. After a time, +they carry off a princess who is suffering from some mysterious +disease, and take her to their forest home. She tells +them that her illness is due to a Snake, which comes to +her every night, entering by the chimney, and sucks away +her strength. The heroes seizes the Snake, which takes +them to the healing lake, and they are cured. Then they +restore the princess, also cured, to her father. Ivan returns +to the palace of the Enchantress Queen who had +maimed him, and beats her with red-hot iron bars until he +has driven out of her all her magic strength, “leaving her +only one woman’s strength, and that a very poor one.”</p> + +<p>In a Tula variant<a name="FNanchor_328_328" id="FNanchor_328_328"></a><a href="#Footnote_328_328" class="fnanchor">[328]</a> the wicked wife, who has set her +confiding husband to tend her pigs, is killed by the hero. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> +She had put out his eyes, and had cut off the feet of +another companion of her husband; in this variant also +the Healing Waters are found by the aid of a snake.</p> + +<p>The supernatural steed which Katoma tamed belongs +to an equine race which often figures in the Skazkas. A +good account of one of these horses is given in the following +story of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Princess Helena the Fair.</span><a name="FNanchor_329_329" id="FNanchor_329_329"></a><a href="#Footnote_329_329" class="fnanchor">[329]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p><i>We say that we are wise folks, but our old people dispute, +the fact, saying: “No, no, we were wiser than you are.” But +<ins class="correction" title="shaskas in original">skazkas</ins> tell that, before our grandfathers had learnt anything, +before their grandfathers</i><a name="FNanchor_330_330" id="FNanchor_330_330"></a><a href="#Footnote_330_330" class="fnanchor">[330]</a> <i>were born</i>—<a name="FNanchor_331_331" id="FNanchor_331_331"></a><a href="#Footnote_331_331" class="fnanchor">[331]</a></p> + +<p>There lived in a certain land an old man of this kind who instructed +his three sons in reading and writing<a name="FNanchor_332_332" id="FNanchor_332_332"></a><a href="#Footnote_332_332" class="fnanchor">[332]</a> and all book +learning. Then said he to them:</p> + +<p>“Now, my children! When I die, mind you come and read +prayers over my grave.”</p> + +<p>“Very good, father, very good,” they replied.</p> + +<p>The two elder brothers were such fine strapping fellows! so +tall and stout! But as for the youngest one, Ivan, he was like +a half-grown lad or a half-fledged duckling, terribly inferior to +the others. Well, their old father died. At that very time +there came tidings from the King, that his daughter, the Princess +Helena the Fair, had ordered a shrine to be built for her +with twelve columns, with twelve rows of beams. In that shrine +she was sitting upon a high throne, and awaiting her bridegroom, +the bold youth who, with a single bound of his swift steed, +should reach high enough to kiss her on the lips. A stir ran +through the whole youth of the nation. They took to licking +their lips, and scratching their heads, and wondering to whose +share so great an honor would fall.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> +“Brothers!” said Vanyusha,<a name="FNanchor_333_333" id="FNanchor_333_333"></a><a href="#Footnote_333_333" class="fnanchor">[333]</a> “our father is dead; which +of us is to read prayers over his grave?”</p> + +<p>“Whoever feels inclined, let him go!” answered the +brothers.</p> + +<p>So Vanya went. But as for his elder brothers they did +nothing but exercise their horses, and curl their hair, and dye +their mustaches.</p> + +<p>The second night came.</p> + +<p>“Brothers!” said Vanya, “I’ve done my share of reading. +It’s your turn now; which of you will go?”</p> + +<p>“Whoever likes can go and read. We’ve business to look +after; don’t you meddle.”</p> + +<p>And they cocked their caps, and shouted, and whooped, and +flew this way, and shot that way, and roved about the open +country.</p> + +<p>So Vanyusha read prayers this time also—and on the third +night, too.</p> + +<p>Well, his brothers got ready their horses, combed out their +mustaches, and prepared to go next morning to test their +mettle before the eyes of Helena the Fair.</p> + +<p>“Shall we take the youngster?” they thought. “No, no. +What would be the good of him? He’d make folks laugh and +put us to confusion; let’s go by ourselves.”</p> + +<p>So away they went. But Vanyusha wanted very much to +have a look at the Princess Helena the Fair. He cried, cried +bitterly; and went out to his father’s grave. And his father +heard him in his coffin, and came out to him, shook the damp +earth off his body, and said:</p> + +<p>“Don’t grieve, Vanya. I’ll help you in your trouble.”</p> + +<p>And immediately the old man drew himself up and straightened +himself, and called aloud and whistled with a ringing +voice, with a shrill<a name="FNanchor_334_334" id="FNanchor_334_334"></a><a href="#Footnote_334_334" class="fnanchor">[334]</a> whistle.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +From goodness knows whence appeared a horse, the earth +quaking beneath it, a flame rushing from its ears and nostrils. +To and fro it flew, and then stood still before the old man, as if +rooted in the ground, and cried,</p> + +<p>“What are thy commands?”</p> + +<p>Vanya crept into one of the horse’s ears and out of the +other, and turned into such a hero as no skazka can tell of, no +pen describe! He mounted the horse, set his arms akimbo, +and flew, just like a falcon, straight to the home of the Princess +Helena. With a wave of his hand, with a bound aloft, he only +failed by the breadth of two rows of beams. Back again he +turned, galloped up, leapt aloft, and got within one beam-row’s +breadth. Once more he turned, once more he wheeled, then +shot past the eye like a streak of fire, took an accurate aim, and +kissed<a name="FNanchor_335_335" id="FNanchor_335_335"></a><a href="#Footnote_335_335" class="fnanchor">[335]</a> the fair Helena right on the lips!</p> + +<p>“Who is he? Who is he? Stop him! Stop him!” was +the cry. Not a trace of him was to be found!</p> + +<p>Away he galloped to his father’s grave, let the horse go free, +prostrated himself on the earth, and besought his father’s counsel. +And the old man held counsel with him.</p> + +<p>When he got home he behaved as if he hadn’t been anywhere. +His brothers talked away, describing where they had +been, what they had seen, and he listened to them as of old.</p> + +<p>The next day there was a gathering again. In the princely +halls there were more boyars and nobles than a single glance +could take in. The elder brothers rode there. Their younger +brother went there too, but on foot, meekly and modestly, just +as if he hadn’t kissed the Princess, and seated himself in a +distant corner. The Princess Helena asked for her bridegroom, +wanted to show him to the world at large, wanted to give him +half her kingdom; but the bridegroom did not put in an appearance! +Search was made for him among the boyars, among +the generals; everyone was examined in his turn—but with no +result! Meanwhile, Vanya looked on, smiling and chuckling, +and waiting till the bride should come to him herself.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +“I pleased her then,” says he, “when I appeared as a gay +gallant; now let her fall in love with me in my plain caftan.”</p> + +<p>Then up she rose, looked around with bright eyes that shed +a radiance on all who stood there, and saw and knew her bridegroom, +and made him take his seat by her side, and speedily was +wedded to him. And he—good heavens! how clever he turned +out, and how brave, and what a handsome fellow! Only see +him mount his flying steed, give his cap a cock, and stick his +elbows akimbo! why, you’d say he was a king, a born king! +you’d never suspect he once was only Vanyusha.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The incident of the midnight watch by a father’s grave, +kept by a son to whom the dead man appears and gives a +magic horse, often occurs in the Skazkas. It is thoroughly +in accordance with Slavonic ideas about the residence of +the dead in their tombs, and their ability to assist their +descendants in time of trouble. Appeals for aid to a dead +parent are of frequent occurrence in the songs still sung +by the Russian peasantry at funerals or over graves; especially +in those in which orphans express their grief, calling +upon the grave to open, and the dead to appear and +listen and help.<a name="FNanchor_336_336" id="FNanchor_336_336"></a><a href="#Footnote_336_336" class="fnanchor">[336]</a> So in the Indian story of Punchkin, the +seven hungry stepmother-persecuted princesses go out +every day and sit by their dead mother’s tomb, and cry, +and say, “Oh, mother, mother, cannot you see your poor +children, how unhappy we are,” etc., until a tree grows up +out of the grave laden with fruits for their relief.<a name="FNanchor_337_337" id="FNanchor_337_337"></a><a href="#Footnote_337_337" class="fnanchor">[337]</a> So in +the German tale,<a name="FNanchor_338_338" id="FNanchor_338_338"></a><a href="#Footnote_338_338" class="fnanchor">[338]</a> Cinderella is aided by the white bird, +which dwells in the hazel tree growing out of her mother’s +grave.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> +In one of the Skazkas<a name="FNanchor_339_339" id="FNanchor_339_339"></a><a href="#Footnote_339_339" class="fnanchor">[339]</a> a stepdaughter is assisted by +her cow. The girl, following its instructions, gets in at +one ear and out of the other, and finds all her tasks performed, +all her difficulties removed. When it is killed, +there springs from its bones a tree which befriends the +girl, and gains her a lordly husband. In a Servian variant +of the story, it is distinctly stated that the protecting cow +had been the girl’s mother—manifestly in a previous state +of existence, a purely Buddhistic idea.<a name="FNanchor_340_340" id="FNanchor_340_340"></a><a href="#Footnote_340_340" class="fnanchor">[340]</a></p> + +<p>In several of the Skazkas we find an account of a +princess who is won in a similar manner to that described +in the story of Helena the Fair. In one case,<a name="FNanchor_341_341" id="FNanchor_341_341"></a><a href="#Footnote_341_341" class="fnanchor">[341]</a> a king +promises to give his daughter to anyone “who can pluck +her portrait from the house, from the other side of ever +so many beams.” The youngest brother, Ivan the Simpleton, +carries away the portrait and its cover at the third +trial. In another, a king offers his daughter and half his +kingdom to him “who can kiss the princess through twelve +sheets of glass.”<a name="FNanchor_342_342" id="FNanchor_342_342"></a><a href="#Footnote_342_342" class="fnanchor">[342]</a> The usual youngest brother is carried +towards her so forcibly by his magic steed that, at the first +trial, he breaks through six of the sheets of glass; at the +second, says the story, “he smashed all twelve of the +sheets of glass, and he kissed the Princess Priceless-Beauty, +and she immediately stamped a mark upon his forehead.” +By this mark, after he has disappeared for some time, he +is eventually recognized, and the princess is obliged to +marry him.<a name="FNanchor_343_343" id="FNanchor_343_343"></a><a href="#Footnote_343_343" class="fnanchor">[343]</a> In a third story,<a name="FNanchor_344_344" id="FNanchor_344_344"></a><a href="#Footnote_344_344" class="fnanchor">[344]</a> the conditions of winning +the princely bride are easier, for “he who takes a leap on +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +horseback, and kisses the king’s daughter on the balcony, +to him will they give her to wife.” In a fourth, the princess +is to marry the man “who, on horseback, bounds up +to her on the third floor.” At the first trial, the <i>Durak</i>, +or Fool, reaches the first floor, at the next, the second; +and the third time, “he bounds right up to the princess, +and carries off from her a ring.”<a name="FNanchor_345_345" id="FNanchor_345_345"></a><a href="#Footnote_345_345" class="fnanchor">[345]</a></p> + +<p>In the Norse story of “Dapplegrim,”<a name="FNanchor_346_346" id="FNanchor_346_346"></a><a href="#Footnote_346_346" class="fnanchor">[346]</a> a younger brother +saves a princess who had been stolen by a Troll, and hidden +in a cave above a steep wall of rock as smooth as glass. +Twice his magic horse tries in vain to surmount it, but the +third time it succeeds, and the youth carries off the princess, +who ultimately becomes his wife. Another Norse story +still more closely resembles the Russian tales. In “The +Princess on the Glass Hill”<a name="FNanchor_347_347" id="FNanchor_347_347"></a><a href="#Footnote_347_347" class="fnanchor">[347]</a> the hero gains a Princess as +his wife by riding up a hill of glass, on the top of which +she sits, with three golden apples in her lap, and by carrying +off these precious fruits. He is enabled to perform +this feat by a magic horse, which he obtains by watching +his father’s crops on three successive St. John’s Nights.</p> + +<p>In a Celtic story,<a name="FNanchor_348_348" id="FNanchor_348_348"></a><a href="#Footnote_348_348" class="fnanchor">[348]</a> a king promises his daughter, and +two-thirds of his kingdom, to anyone who can get her out +of a turret which “was aloft, on the top of four carraghan +towers.” The hero Conall kicks “one of the posts that +was keeping the turret aloft,” the post breaks, and the +turret falls, but Conall catches it in his hands before it +reaches the ground, a door opens, and out comes the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +Princess Sunbeam, and throws her arms about Conall’s +neck.</p> + +<p>In most of these stories the wife-gaining leap is so +vaguely described that it is allowable to suppose that the +original idea has been greatly obscured in the course of +travel. In some Eastern stories it is set in a much plainer +light; in one modern collection for instance,<a name="FNanchor_349_349" id="FNanchor_349_349"></a><a href="#Footnote_349_349" class="fnanchor">[349]</a> it occurs +four times. A princess is so fond of her marble bath, +which is “like a little sea,” with high spiked walls all +around it, that she vows she will marry no one who cannot +jump across it on horseback. Another princess determines +to marry him only who can leap into the glass palace in +which she dwells, surrounded by a wide river; and many +kings and princes perish miserably in attempting to perform +the feat. A third king’s daughter lives in a garden +“hedged round with seven hedges made of bayonets,” by +which her suitors are generally transfixed. A fourth “has +vowed to marry no man who cannot jump on foot over +the seven hedges made of spears, and across the seven +great ditches that surround her house;” and “hundreds +of thousands of Rajahs have tried to do it, and died in the +attempt.”</p> + +<p>The secluded princess of these stories may have been +primarily akin to the heroine of the “Sleeping Beauty” +tales, but no special significance appears now to be attributable +to her isolation. The original idea seems to +have been best preserved in the two legends of the wooing +of Brynhild by Sigurd, in the first of which he awakens +her from her magic sleep, while in the second he gains her +hand (for Gunnar) by a daring and difficult ride—for “him +only would she have who should ride through the flaming +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +fire that was drawn about her hall.” Gunnar fails to do +so, but Sigurd succeeds; his horse leaps into the fire, “and +a mighty roar arose as the fire burned ever madder, and +the earth trembled, and the flames went up even unto the +heavens, nor had any dared to ride as he rode, even as it +were through the deep murk.”<a name="FNanchor_350_350" id="FNanchor_350_350"></a><a href="#Footnote_350_350" class="fnanchor">[350]</a></p> + +<p>We will take next a story which is a great favorite in +Russia, and which will serve as another illustration of the +use made of magical “properties” in the Skazkas.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Emilian the Fool.</span><a name="FNanchor_351_351" id="FNanchor_351_351"></a><a href="#Footnote_351_351" class="fnanchor">[351]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There were once three brothers, of whom two were sharp-witted, +but the third was a fool. The elder brothers set off to +sell their goods in the towns down the river,<a name="FNanchor_352_352" id="FNanchor_352_352"></a><a href="#Footnote_352_352" class="fnanchor">[352]</a> and said to the +fool:</p> + +<p>“Now mind, fool! obey our wives, and pay them respect as +if they were your own mothers. We’ll buy you red boots, and +a red caftan, and a red shirt.”</p> + +<p>The fool said to them:</p> + +<p>“Very good; I will pay them respect.”</p> + +<p>They gave the fool their orders and went away to the downstream +towns; but the fool stretched himself on top of the stove +and remained lying there. His brothers’ wives say to him—</p> + +<p>“What are you about, fool! your brothers ordered you to +pay us respect, and in return for that each of them was going to +bring you a present, but there you lie on the stove and don’t do +a bit of work. Go and fetch some water, at all events.”</p> + +<p>The fool took a couple of pails and went to fetch the water. +As he scooped it up, a pike happened to get into his pail. Says +the fool:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +“Glory to God! now I will cook this pike, and will eat it all +myself; I won’t give a bit of it to my sisters-in-law. I’m savage +with them!”</p> + +<p>The pike says to him with a human voice:</p> + +<p>“Don’t eat me, fool! if you’ll put me back again into the +water you shall have good luck!”</p> + +<p>Says the fool, “What sort of good luck shall I get from +you?”</p> + +<p>“Why, this sort of good luck: whatever you say, that shall +be done. Say, for instance, ‘By the Pike’s command, at my +request, go home, ye pails, and be set in your places.’”</p> + +<p>As soon as the fool had said this, the pails immediately +went home of their own accord and became set in their places. +The sisters-in-law looked and wondered.</p> + +<p>“What sort of a fool is this!” they say. “Why, he’s so +knowing, you see, that his pails have come home and gone to +their places of their own accord!”</p> + +<p>The fool came back and lay down on the stove. Again did +his brothers’ wives begin saying to him—</p> + +<p>“What are you lying on the stove for, fool? there’s no wood +for the fire; go and fetch some.”</p> + +<p>The fool took two axes and got into a sledge, but without +harnessing a horse to it.</p> + +<p>“By the Pike’s command,” he says, “at my request, drive, +into the forest, O sledge!”</p> + +<p>Away went the sledge at a rattling pace, as if urged on by +some one. The fool had to pass by a town, and the people he +met were jammed into corners by his horseless sledge in a way +that was perfectly awful. They all began crying out:</p> + +<p>“Stop him! Catch him!”</p> + +<p>But they couldn’t lay hands on him. The fool drove into +the forest, got out of the sledge, sat down on a log, and said—</p> + +<p>“One of you axes fell the trees, while the other cuts them +up into billets.”</p> + +<p>Well, the firewood was cut up and piled on the sledge. Then +says the fool:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +“Now then, one of you axes! go and cut me a cudgel,<a name="FNanchor_353_353" id="FNanchor_353_353"></a><a href="#Footnote_353_353" class="fnanchor">[353]</a> as +heavy a one as I can lift.”</p> + +<p>The axe went and cut him a cudgel, and the cudgel came +and lay on top of the load.</p> + +<p>The fool took his seat and drove off. He drove by the +town, but the townspeople had met together and had been looking +out for him for ever so long. So they stopped the fool, laid +hands upon him, and began pulling him about. Says the fool—</p> + +<p>“By the Pike’s command, at my request, go, O cudgel, and +bestir thyself.”</p> + +<p>Out jumped the cudgel, and took to thumping and smashing, +and knocked over ever such a lot of people. There they lay on +the ground, strewed about like so many sheaves of corn. The +fool got clear of them and drove home, heaped up the wood, +and then lay down on the stove.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the townspeople got up a petition against him, +and denounced him to the King, saying:</p> + +<p>“Folks say there’s no getting hold of him the way we tried;<a name="FNanchor_354_354" id="FNanchor_354_354"></a><a href="#Footnote_354_354" class="fnanchor">[354]</a> +we must entice him by cunning, and the best way of all will be +to promise him a red shirt, and a red caftan, and red boots.”</p> + +<p>So the King’s runners came for the fool.</p> + +<p>“Go to the King,” they say, “he will give you red boots, a +red caftan, and a red shirt.”</p> + +<p>Well, the fool said:</p> + +<p>“By the Pike’s command, at my request, do thou, O stove, +go to the King!”</p> + +<p>He was seated on the stove at the time. The stove went; +the fool arrived at the King’s.</p> + +<p>The King was going to put him to death, but he had a +daughter, and she took a tremendous liking to the fool. So +she began begging her father to give her in marriage to the fool. +Her father flew into a passion. He had them married, and +then ordered them both to be placed in a tub, and the tub to be +tarred over and thrown into the water; all which was done.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> +Long did the tub float about on the sea. His wife began to +beseech the fool:</p> + +<p>“Do something to get us cast on shore!”</p> + +<p>“By the Pike’s command, at my request,” said the fool, +“cast this tub ashore and tear it open!”</p> + +<p>He and his wife stepped out of the tub. Then she again +began imploring him to build some sort of a house. The fool +said:</p> + +<p>“By the Pike’s command, at my request, let a marble palace +be built, and let it stand immediately opposite the King’s +palace!”</p> + +<p>This was all done in an instant. In the morning the King +saw the new palace, and sent to enquire who it was that lived +in it. As soon as he learnt that his daughter lived there, that +very minute he summoned her and her husband. They came. +The King pardoned them, and they all began living together +and flourishing.<a name="FNanchor_355_355" id="FNanchor_355_355"></a><a href="#Footnote_355_355" class="fnanchor">[355]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">“The Pike,” observes Afanasief, “is a fish of great +repute in northern mythology.” One of the old Russian +songs still sung at Christmas, tells how a Pike comes from +Novgorod, its scales of silver and gold, its back woven +with pearls, a costly diamond gleaming in its head instead +of eyes. And this song is one which promises wealth, a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> +fact connecting the Russian fish with that Scandinavian +pike which was a shape assumed by Andvari—the dwarf-guardian +of the famous treasure, from which sprang the +woes recounted in the <i>Völsunga Saga</i> and the <i>Nibelungenlied</i>. +According to a Lithuanian tradition,<a name="FNanchor_356_356" id="FNanchor_356_356"></a><a href="#Footnote_356_356" class="fnanchor">[356]</a> there is a +certain lake which is ruled by the monstrous pike Strukis. +It sleeps only once a year, and then only for a single hour. +It used always to sleep on St. John’s Night, but a fisherman +once took advantage of its slumber to catch a quantity +of its scaly subjects. Strukis awoke in time to upset the +fisherman’s boat; but fearing a repetition of the attempt, +it now changes each year the hour of its annual sleep. A +gigantic pike figures also in the <i>Kalevala</i>.</p> + +<p>It would be easy to fill with similar stories, not only a +section of a chapter, but a whole volume; but instead of +quoting any more of them, I will take a few specimens +from a different, though a somewhat kindred group of +tales—those which relate to the magic powers supposed +to be wielded in modern times by dealers in the Black Art. +Such narratives as these are to be found in every land, +but Russia is specially rich in them, the faith of the +peasantry in the existence of Witches and Wizards, Turnskins +and Vampires, not having been as yet seriously shaken. +Some of the stories relating to the supernatural Witch, who +evidently belongs to the demon world, have already been +given. In those which I am about to quote, the wizard or +witch who is mentioned is a human being, but one who has +made a compact with evil spirits, and has thereby become +endowed with strange powers. Such monsters as these +are, throughout their lives, a terror to the district they +inhabit; nor does their evil influence die with them, for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> +after they have been laid in the earth, they assume their +direst aspect, and as Vampires bent on blood, night after +night, they go forth from their graves to destroy. As +I have elsewhere given some account of Slavonic beliefs +in witchcraft,<a name="FNanchor_357_357" id="FNanchor_357_357"></a><a href="#Footnote_357_357" class="fnanchor">[357]</a> I will do little more at present than +allow the stories to speak for themselves. They will be +recognized as being akin to the tales about sorcery current +farther west, but they are of a more savage nature. The +rustic warlocks and witches of whom we are accustomed to +hear have little, if any, of that thirst for blood which so unfavorably +characterizes their Slavonic counterparts. Here +is a story, by way of example, of a most gloomy nature.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Witch Girl.</span><a name="FNanchor_358_358" id="FNanchor_358_358"></a><a href="#Footnote_358_358" class="fnanchor">[358]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Late one evening, a Cossack rode into a village, pulled up at +its last cottage, and cried—</p> + +<p>“Heigh, master! will you let me spend the night here?”</p> + +<p>“Come in, if you don’t fear death!”</p> + +<p>“What sort of a reply is that?” thought the Cossack, as he +put his horse up in the stable. After he had given it its food +he went into the cottage. There he saw its inmates, men and +women and little children, all sobbing and crying and praying to +God; and when they had done praying, they began putting on +clean shirts.</p> + +<p>“What are you crying about?” asked the Cossack.</p> + +<p>“Why you see,” replied the master of the house, “in our +village Death goes about at night. Into whatsoever cottage she +looks, there, next morning, one has to put all the people who +lived in it into coffins, and carry them off to the graveyard. To-night +it’s our turn.”</p> + +<p>“Never fear, master! ‘Without God’s will, no pig gets its +fill!’”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> +The people of the house lay down to sleep; but the Cossack +was on the look-out and never closed an eye. Exactly at midnight +the window opened. At the window appeared a witch all +in white. She took a sprinkler, passed her arm into the cottage, +and was just on the point of sprinkling—when the Cossack +suddenly gave his sabre a sweep, and cut her arm off close to +the shoulder. The witch howled, squealed, yelped like a dog, +and fled away. But the Cossack picked up the severed arm, +hid it under his cloak, washed away the stains of blood, and lay +down to sleep.</p> + +<p>Next morning the master and mistress awoke, and saw that +everyone, without a single exception, was alive and well, and +they were delighted beyond expression.</p> + +<p>“If you like,” says the Cossack, “I’ll show you Death! +Call together all the Sotniks and Desyatniks<a name="FNanchor_359_359" id="FNanchor_359_359"></a><a href="#Footnote_359_359" class="fnanchor">[359]</a> as quickly as +possible, and let’s go through the village and look for her.”</p> + +<p>Straightway all the Sotniks and Desyatniks came together +and went from house to house. In this one there’s nothing, in +that one there’s nothing, until at last they come to the Ponomar’s<a name="FNanchor_360_360" id="FNanchor_360_360"></a><a href="#Footnote_360_360" class="fnanchor">[360]</a> +cottage.</p> + +<p>“Is all your family present?” asks the Cossack.</p> + +<p>“No, my own! one of my daughters is ill. She’s lying on +the stove there.”</p> + +<p>The Cossack looked towards the stove—one of the girl’s arms +had evidently been cut off. Thereupon he told the whole story +of what had taken place, and he brought out and showed the +arm which had been cut off. The commune rewarded the +Cossack with a sum of money, and ordered that witch to be +drowned.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Stories of this kind are common in all lands, but the +witches about whom they are told generally assume the forms +of beasts of prey, especially of wolves, or of cats. A long +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +string of similar tales will be found in Dr. Wilhelm Hertz’s +excellent and exhaustive monograph on werwolves.<a name="FNanchor_361_361" id="FNanchor_361_361"></a><a href="#Footnote_361_361" class="fnanchor">[361]</a> Very +important also is the Polish story told by Wojcicki<a name="FNanchor_362_362" id="FNanchor_362_362"></a><a href="#Footnote_362_362" class="fnanchor">[362]</a> of the +village which is attacked by the Plague, embodied in the +form of a woman, who roams from house to house in search +of victims. One night, as she goes her rounds, all doors and +windows have been barred against her except one casement. +This has been left open by a nobleman who is ready to sacrifice +himself for the sake of others. The Pest Maiden arrives, +and thrusts her arm in at his window. The nobleman +cuts it off, and so rids the village of its fatal visitor. In an +Indian story,<a name="FNanchor_363_363" id="FNanchor_363_363"></a><a href="#Footnote_363_363" class="fnanchor">[363]</a> a hero undertakes to watch beside the couch +of a haunted princess. When all is still a Rákshasa appears +on the threshold, opens the door, and thrusts into +the room an arm—which the hero cuts off. <ins class="correction" title="the in original">The</ins> fiend disappears +howling, and leaves his arm behind.</p> + +<p>The horror of the next story is somewhat mitigated by +a slight infusion of the grotesque—but this may arise from +a mere accident, and be due to the exceptional cheerfulness +of some link in the chain of its narrators.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Headless Princess.</span><a name="FNanchor_364_364" id="FNanchor_364_364"></a><a href="#Footnote_364_364" class="fnanchor">[364]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain country there lived a King; and this King had a +daughter who was an enchantress. Near the royal palace there +dwelt a priest, and the priest had a boy of ten years old, who +went every day to an old woman to learn reading and writing. +Now it happened one day that he came away from his lessons +late in the evening, and as he passed by the palace he looked +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +in at one of the windows. At that window the Princess happened +to be sitting and dressing herself. She took off her head, +lathered it with soap, washed it with clean water, combed its +hair, plaited its long back braid, and then put it back again in +its proper place. The boy was lost in wonder.</p> + +<p>“What a clever creature!” thinks he. “A downright +witch!”</p> + +<p>And when he got home he began telling every one how he +had seen the Princess without her head.</p> + +<p>All of a sudden the King’s daughter fell grievously ill, and +she sent for her father, and strictly enjoined him, saying—</p> + +<p>“If I die, make the priest’s son read the psalter over me +three nights running.”</p> + +<p>The Princess died; they placed her in a coffin, and carried +it to church. Then the king summoned the priest, and said—</p> + +<p>“Have you got a son?”</p> + +<p>“I have, your majesty.”</p> + +<p>“Well then,” said the King, “let him read the psalter over +my daughter three nights running.”</p> + +<p>The priest returned home, and told his son to get ready. In +the morning the priest’s son went to his lessons, and sat over +his book looking ever so gloomy.</p> + +<p>“What are you unhappy about?” asked the old woman.</p> + +<p>“How can I help being unhappy, when I’m utterly done +for?”</p> + +<p>“Why what’s the matter? Speak out plainly.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, granny, I’ve got to read psalms over the princess, +and, do you know, she’s a witch!”</p> + +<p>“I knew that before you did! But don’t be frightened, +there’s a knife for you. When you go into the church, trace a +circle round you; then read away from your psalter and <ins class="correction" title="dont in original">don’t</ins> +look behind you. Whatever happens there, whatever horrors +may appear, mind your own business and go on reading, reading. +But if you look behind you, it will be all over with you!”</p> + +<p>In the evening the boy went to the church, traced a circle +round him with the knife, and betook himself to the psalter. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +Twelve o’clock struck. The lid of the coffin flew up; the Princess +arose, leapt out, and cried—</p> + +<p>“Now I’ll teach you to go peeping through my windows, and +telling people what you saw!”</p> + +<p>She began rushing at the priest’s son, but she couldn’t anyhow +break into the circle. Then she began to conjure up all +sorts of horrors. But in spite of all that she did, he went on +reading and reading, and never gave a look round. And at daybreak +the Princess rushed at her coffin, and tumbled into it at +full length, all of a heap.</p> + +<p>The next night everything went on just the same. The +priest’s son wasn’t a bit afraid, went on reading without a stop +right up to daybreak, and in the morning went to the old woman. +She asked him—</p> + +<p>“Well! have you seen horrors?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, granny!”</p> + +<p>“It will be still more horrible this time. Here’s a hammer +for you and four nails. Knock them into the four corners of the +coffin, and when you begin reading the psalter, stick up the +hammer in front of you.”</p> + +<p>In the evening the priest’s son went to the church, and did +everything just as the old woman had told him. Twelve o’clock +struck, the coffin lid fell to the ground, the Princess jumped up +and began tearing from side to side, and threatening the youth. +Then she conjured up horrors, this time worse than before. It +seemed to him as if a fire had broken out in the church; all +the walls were wrapped in flames! But he held his ground +and went on reading, never once looking behind him. Just before +daybreak the Princess rushed to her coffin—then the fire +seemed to go out immediately, and all the deviltry vanished!</p> + +<p>In the morning the King came to the church, and saw that +the coffin was open, and in the coffin lay the princess, face downwards.</p> + +<p>“What’s the meaning of all this?” says he.</p> + +<p>The lad told him everything that had taken place. Then the +king gave orders that an aspen stake should be driven into his +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> +daughter’s breast, and that her body should be thrust into a hole +in the ground. But he rewarded the priest’s son with a heap of +money and various lands.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Perhaps the most remarkable among the stories of this +class is the following, which comes from Little Russia. +Those readers who are acquainted with the works of Gogol, +the great Russian novelist, who was a native of that part of +the country, will observe how closely he has kept to popular +traditions in his thrilling story of the <i>Vy</i>, which has been +translated into English, from the French, under the title of +“The King of the Gnomes.”<a name="FNanchor_365_365" id="FNanchor_365_365"></a><a href="#Footnote_365_365" class="fnanchor">[365]</a></p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Soldier’s Midnight Watch.</span><a name="FNanchor_366_366" id="FNanchor_366_366"></a><a href="#Footnote_366_366" class="fnanchor">[366]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Once upon a time there was a Soldier who served God and the +great Gosudar for fifteen years, without ever setting eyes on his +parents. At the end of that time there came an order from the +Tsar to grant leave to the soldiers—to twenty-five of each company +at a time—to go and see their families. Together with +the rest our Soldier, too, got leave to go, and set off to pay a +visit to his home in the government of Kief. After a time he +reached Kief, visited the <i>Lavra</i>, prayed to God, bowed down +before the holy relics, and then started again for his birthplace, +a provincial town not far off. Well, he walked and walked. +Suddenly there happens to meet him a fair maiden who was the +daughter of a merchant in that same town; a most remarkable +beauty. Now everyone knows that if a soldier catches sight of +a pretty girl, nothing will make him pass her by quietly, but he +hooks on to her somehow or other. And so this Soldier gets +alongside of the merchant’s daughter, and says to her jokingly—</p> + +<p>“How now, fair damsel! not broken in to harness yet?”</p> + +<p>“God knows, soldier, who breaks in whom,” replies the girl. +“I may do it to you, or you to me.”</p> + +<p>So saying she laughed and went her way. Well, the Soldier +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> +arrived at home, greeted his family, and rejoiced greatly at finding +they were all in good health.</p> + +<p>Now he had an old grandfather, as white as a <i>lun</i>, who had +lived a hundred years and a bit. The Soldier was gossiping +with him, and said:</p> + +<p>“As I was coming home, grandfather, I happened to meet +an uncommonly fine girl, and, sinner that I am, I chaffed her, +and she said to me:</p> + +<p>“‘God knows, soldier, whether you’ll break me in to harness, +or I’ll break you.’”</p> + +<p>“Eh, sirs! whatever have you done? Why that’s the +daughter of our merchant here, an awful witch! She’s sent +more than one fine young fellow out of the white world.”</p> + +<p>“Well, well! I’m not one of the timid ones, either! You +won’t frighten me in a hurry. We’ll wait and see what God will +send.”</p> + +<p>“No, no, grandson!” says the grandfather. “If you don’t +listen to me, you won’t be alive to-morrow!”</p> + +<p>“Here’s a nice fix!” says the Soldier.</p> + +<p>“Yes, such a fix that you’ve never known anything half so +awful, even when soldiering.”</p> + +<p>“What must I do then, grandfather?”</p> + +<p>“Why this. Provide yourself with a bridle, and take a thick +aspen cudgel, and sit quietly in the izba—don’t stir a step anywhere. +During the night she will come running in, and if she +manages to say before you can ‘Stand still, my steed!’ you +will straightway turn into a horse. Then she will jump upon +your back, and will make you gallop about until she has ridden +you to death. But if you manage to say before she speaks, +‘Tprru! stand still, jade!’ she will be turned into a mare. +Then you must bridle her and jump on her back. She will run +away with you over hill and dale, but do you hold your own; hit +her over the head with the aspen cudgel, and go on hitting her +until you beat her to death.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier hadn’t expected such a job as this, but there +was no help for it. So he followed his grandfather’s advice, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +provided himself with a bridle and an aspen cudgel, took his +seat in a corner, and waited to see what would happen. At the +midnight hour the passage door creaked and the sound of steps +was heard; the witch was coming! The moment the door of +the room opened, the Soldier immediately cried out—</p> + +<p>“Tprru! stand still, jade!”</p> + +<p>The witch turned into a mare, and he bridled her, led her +into the yard, and jumped on her back. The mare carried him +off over hills and dales and ravines, and did all she could to try +and throw her rider. But no! the Soldier stuck on tight, and +thumped her over the head like anything with the aspen cudgel, +and went on treating her with a taste of the cudgel until he +knocked her off her feet, and then pitched into her as she lay on +the ground, gave her another half-dozen blows or so, and at last +beat her to death.</p> + +<p>By daybreak he got home.</p> + +<p>“Well, my friend! how have you got on?” asks his grandfather.</p> + +<p>“Glory be to God, grandfather! I’ve beaten her to death!”</p> + +<p>“All right! now lie down and go to sleep.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier lay down and fell into a deep slumber. Towards +evening the old man awoke him—</p> + +<p>“Get up, grandson.”</p> + +<p>He got up.</p> + +<p>“What’s to be done now? As the merchant’s daughter is +dead, you see, her father will come after you, and will bid you +to his house to read psalms over the dead body.”</p> + +<p>“Well, grandfather, am I to go, or not?”</p> + +<p>“If you go, there’ll be an end of you; and if you don’t go, +there’ll be an end of you! Still, it’s best to go.”</p> + +<p>“But if anything happens, how shall I get out of it?”</p> + +<p>“Listen, grandson! When you go to the merchant’s he will +offer you brandy; don’t you drink much—drink only a moderate +allowance. Afterwards the merchant will take you into the room +in which his daughter is lying in her coffin, and will lock you in +there. You will read out from the psalter all the evening, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +up to midnight. Exactly at midnight a strong wind will suddenly +begin to blow, the coffin will begin to shake, its lid will +fall off. Well, as soon as these horrors begin, jump on to the +stove as quick as you can, squeeze yourself into a corner, and +silently offer up prayers. She won’t find you there.”</p> + +<p>Half an hour later came the merchant, and besought the +Soldier, crying:</p> + +<p>“Ah, Soldier! there’s a daughter of mine dead; come and +read the psalter over her.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier took a psalter and went off to the merchant’s +house. The merchant was greatly pleased, seated him at his +table, and began offering him brandy to drink. The Soldier +drank, but only moderately, and declined to drink any more. +The merchant took him by the hand and led him to the room in +which the corpse lay.</p> + +<p>“Now then,” he says, “read away at your psalter.”</p> + +<p>Then he went out and locked the door. There was no help +for it, so the Soldier took to his psalter and read and read. +Exactly at midnight there was a great blast of wind, the coffin +began to rock, its lid flew off. The Soldier jumped quickly on +to the stove, hid himself in a corner, guarded himself by a sign +of the cross, and began whispering prayers. Meanwhile the +witch had leapt out of the coffin, and was rushing about from +side to side—now here, now there. Then there came running +up to her countless swarms of evil spirits; the room was full of +them!</p> + +<p>“What are you looking for?” say they.</p> + +<p>“A soldier. He was reading here a moment ago, and now +he’s vanished!”</p> + +<p>The devils eagerly set to work to hunt him up. They +searched and searched, they rummaged in all the corners. At +last they cast their eyes on the stove; at that moment, luckily +for the Soldier, the cocks began to crow. In the twinkling of +an eye all the devils had vanished, and the witch lay all of a +heap on the floor. The Soldier got down from the stove, laid +her body in the coffin, covered it up all right with the lid, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +betook himself again to his psalter. At daybreak came the +master of the house, opened the door, and said—</p> + +<p>“Hail, Soldier!”</p> + +<p>“I wish you good health, master merchant.”</p> + +<p>“Have you spent the night comfortably?”</p> + +<p>“Glory be to God! yes.”</p> + +<p>“There are fifty roubles for you, but come again, friend, and +read another night.”</p> + +<p>“Very good, I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier returned home, lay down on the bench, and +slept till evening. Then he awoke and said—</p> + +<p>“Grandfather, the merchant bid me go and read the psalter +another night. Should I go or not?”</p> + +<p>“If you go, you won’t remain alive, and if you don’t go, just +the same! But you’d better go. Don’t drink much brandy, +drink just what is right; and when the wind blows, and the +coffin begins to rock, slip straight into the stove. There no one +will find you.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier got ready and went to the merchant’s, who +seated him at table, and began plying him with brandy. Afterwards +he took him to where the corpse was, and locked him into +the room.</p> + +<p>The Soldier went on reading, reading. Midnight came, the +wind blew, the coffin began to rock, the coffin lid fell afar off on +the ground. He was into the stove in a moment. Out jumped +the witch and began rushing about; round her swarmed devils, +the room was full of them!</p> + +<p>“What are you looking for?” they cry.</p> + +<p>“Why, there he was reading a moment ago, and now he’s +vanished out of sight. I can’t find him.”</p> + +<p>The devils flung themselves on the stove.</p> + +<p>“Here’s the place,” they cried, “where he was last night!”</p> + +<p>There was the place, but he wasn’t there! This way and +that they rushed. Suddenly the cocks began to crow, the devils +vanished, the witch lay stretched on the floor.</p> + +<p>The Soldier stayed awhile to recover his breath, crept out +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +of the stove, put the merchant’s daughter back in her coffin, and +took to reading the psalter again. Presently he looks round, +the day has already dawned. His host arrives:</p> + +<p>“Hail, Soldier!” says he.</p> + +<p>“I wish you good health, master merchant.”</p> + +<p>“Has the night passed comfortably?”</p> + +<p>“Glory be to God! yes.”</p> + +<p>“Come along here, then.”</p> + +<p>The merchant led him out of the room, gave him a hundred +roubles, and said—</p> + +<p>“Come, please, and read here a third night; I sha’n’t treat +you badly.”</p> + +<p>“Good, I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier returned home.</p> + +<p>“Well, grandson, what has God sent you?” says his grandfather.</p> + +<p>“Nothing much, grandfather! The merchant told me to +come again. Should I go or not?”</p> + +<p>“If you go, you won’t remain alive, and if you don’t go, you +won’t remain alive! But you’d better go.”</p> + +<p>“But if anything happens where must I hide?”</p> + +<p>“I’ll tell you, grandson. Buy yourself a frying-pan, and hide +it so that the merchant sha’n’t see it. When you go to his house +he’ll try to force a lot of brandy on you. You look out, don’t +drink much, drink just what you can stand. At midnight, as +soon as the wind begins to roar, and the coffin to rock, do you +that very moment climb on to the stove-pipe, and cover yourself +over with the frying-pan. There no one will find you out.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier had a good sleep, bought himself a frying-pan,<a name="FNanchor_367_367" id="FNanchor_367_367"></a><a href="#Footnote_367_367" class="fnanchor">[367]</a> +hid it under his cloak, and towards evening went to the merchant’s +house. The merchant seated him at table and took to plying +him with liquor—tried every possible kind of invitation and +cajolery on him.</p> + +<p>“No,” says the Soldier, “that will do. I’ve had my whack. +I won’t have any more.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> +“Well, then, if you won’t drink, come along and read your +psalter.”</p> + +<p>The merchant took him to his dead daughter, left him alone +with her, and locked the door.</p> + +<p>The Soldier read and read. Midnight came, the wind blew, +the coffin began to rock, the cover flew afar off. The Soldier +jumped up on the stove-pipe, covered himself with the frying-pan, +protected himself with a sign of the cross, and awaited what was +going to happen. Out jumped the witch and began rushing +about. Round her came swarming countless devils, the izba +was full of them! They rushed about in search of the Soldier; +they looked into the stove—</p> + +<p>“Here’s the place,” they cried, “where he was last night.”</p> + +<p>“There’s the place, but he’s not there.”</p> + +<p>This way and that they rush,—cannot see him anywhere. +Presently there stepped across the threshold a very old devil.</p> + +<p>“What are you looking for?”</p> + +<p>“The Soldier. He was reading here a moment ago, and now +he’s disappeared.”</p> + +<p>“Ah! no eyes! And who’s that sitting on the stove-pipe +there?”</p> + +<p>The Soldier’s heart thumped like anything; he all but tumbled +down on the ground!</p> + +<p>“There he is, sure enough!” cried the devils, “but how are +we to settle him. Surely it’s impossible to reach him there?”</p> + +<p>“Impossible, forsooth! Run and lay your hands on a candle-end +which has been lighted without a blessing having been +uttered over it.”</p> + +<p>In an instant the devils brought the candle-end, piled up a +lot of wood right under the stove-pipe, and set it alight. The +flame leapt high into the air, the Soldier began to roast: first one +foot, then the other, he drew up under him.</p> + +<p>“Now,” thinks he, “my death has come!”</p> + +<p>All of a sudden, luckily for him, the cocks began to crow, +the devils vanished, the witch fell flat on the floor. The soldier +jumped down from the stove-pipe, and began putting out the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> +fire. When he had put it out he set every thing to rights, placed +the merchant’s daughter in her coffin, covered it up with the +lid, and betook himself to reading the psalter. At daybreak +came the merchant, and listened at the door to find out whether +the Soldier was alive or not. When he heard his voice he +opened the door and said—</p> + +<p>“Hail, Soldier!”</p> + +<p>“I wish you good health, master merchant.”</p> + +<p>“Have you passed the night comfortably?”</p> + +<p>“Glory be to God, I’ve seen nothing bad.”</p> + +<p>The merchant gave him a hundred and fifty roubles, and +said—</p> + +<p>“You’ve done a deal of work, Soldier! do a little more. +Come here to-night and carry my daughter to the graveyard.”</p> + +<p>“Good, I’ll come.”</p> + +<p>“Well, friend, what has God given?”</p> + +<p>“Glory be to God, grandfather, I’ve got off safe! The merchant +has asked me to be at his house to-night, to carry his +daughter to the graveyard. Should I go or not?”</p> + +<p>“If you go, you won’t be alive, and if you don’t go, you won’t +be alive. But you must go; it will be better so.”</p> + +<p>“But what must I do? tell me.”</p> + +<p>“Well this. When you get to the merchant’s, everything will +be ready there. At ten o’clock the relations of the deceased will +begin taking leave of her; and afterwards they will fasten three +iron hoops round the coffin, and place it on the funeral car; and +at eleven o’clock they will tell you to take it to the graveyard. +Do you drive <ins class="correction" title="of in original">off</ins> with the coffin, but keep a sharp look-out. One +of the hoops will snap. Never fear, keep your seat bravely; a +second will snap, keep your seat all the same; but when the +third hoop snaps, instantly jump on to the horse’s back and +through the <i>duga</i> (the wooden arch above its neck), and run +away backwards. Do that, and no harm will come to you.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier lay down to sleep, slept till the evening, and then +went to the merchant’s. At ten o’clock the relations began +taking leave of the deceased; then they set to work to fasten +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> +iron hoops round the coffin. They fastened the hoops, set the +coffin on the funeral car, and cried—</p> + +<p>“Now then, Soldier! drive off, and God speed you!”</p> + +<p>The Soldier got into the car and set off: at first he drove +slowly, but as soon as he was out of sight he let the horse go +full split. Away he galloped, but all the while he kept an eye on +the coffin. Snap went one hoop—and then another. The witch +began gnashing her teeth.</p> + +<p>“Stop!” she cried, “you sha’n’t escape! I shall eat you up +in another moment.”</p> + +<p>“No, dovey! Soldiers are crown property; no one is allowed +to eat them.”</p> + +<p>Here the last hoop snapped: on to the horse jumped the +Soldier, and through the <i>duga</i>, and then set off running backwards. +The witch leapt out of the coffin and tore away in pursuit. +Lighting on the Soldier’s footsteps she followed them back +to the horse, ran right round it, saw the soldier wasn’t there, and +set off again in pursuit of him. She ran and ran, lighted again +on his footsteps, and again came back to the horse. Utterly at +her wit’s end, she did the same thing some ten times over. Suddenly +the cocks began crowing. There lay the witch stretched +out flat on the road! The Soldier picked her up, put her in the +coffin, slammed the lid down, and drove her to the graveyard. +When he got there he lowered the coffin into the grave, shovelled +the earth on top of it, and returned to the merchant’s house.</p> + +<p>“I’ve done it all,” says he; “catch hold of your horse.”</p> + +<p>When the merchant saw the Soldier he stared at him with +wide-open eyes.</p> + +<p>“Well, Soldier!” said he, “I know a good deal! and as to +my daughter, we needn’t speak of her. She was awfully sharp, +she was! But, really, you know more than we do!”</p> + +<p>“Come now, master merchant! pay me for my work.”</p> + +<p>So the merchant handed him over two hundred roubles. The +soldier took them, thanked him, and then went home, and gave +his family a feast.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[The <a href="#Page_295">next chapter</a> will contain a number of vampire stories which, in some respects, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> +resemble these tales of homicidal corpses. But most of them belong, I think, to a +separate group, due to a different myth or superstition from that which has given rise +to such tales as those quoted above. The vampire is actuated by a thirst which can be +quenched only by blood, and which impels it to go forth from the grave and destroy. +But the enchanted corpses which rise at midnight, and attempt to rend their watchers, +appear to owe their ferocity to demoniacal possession. After the death of a witch her +body is liable, says popular tradition, to be tenanted by a devil (as may be seen from +<a href="#Page_34">No. iii</a>.), and to corpses thus possessed have been attributed by the storytellers the +terrible deeds which Indian tales relate of Rákshasas and other evil spirits. Thus in +the story of Nischayadatta, in the seventh book of the “Kathásaritságara,” the hero +and the four pilgrims, his companions, have to pass a night in a deserted temple of +Siva. It is haunted by a <i>Yakshini</i>, a female demon, who turns men by spells into +brutes, and then eats them; so they sit watching and praying beside a fire round which +they have traced a circle of ashes. At midnight the demon-enchantress arrives, dancing +and “blowing on a flute made of a dead man’s bone.” Fixing her eyes on one of the +pilgrims, she mutters a spell, accompanied by a wild dance. Out of the head of the +doomed man grows a horn; he loses all command over himself, leaps up, and dances into +the flames. The <i>Yakshini</i> seizes his half-burnt corpse and devours it. Then she +treats the second and the third pilgrim in the same way. But just as she is turning to +the fourth, she lays her flute on the ground. In an instant the hero seizes it, and +begins to blow it and to dance wildly around the <i>Yakshini</i>, fixing his eyes upon her +and applying to her the words of her own spell. Deprived by it of all power, she submits, +and from that time forward renders the hero good service.<a name="FNanchor_368_368" id="FNanchor_368_368"></a><a href="#Footnote_368_368" class="fnanchor">[368]</a>]</p></div> + +<p>In one of the skazkas a malignant witch is destroyed +by a benignant female power. It had been predicted that +a certain baby princess would begin flying about the world +as soon as she was fifteen. So her parents shut her up in +a building in which she never saw the light of day, nor the +face of a man. For it was illuminated by artificial means, +and none but women had access to it. But one day, when +her nurses and <i>Mamzeli</i> had gone to a feast at the palace, +she found a door unlocked, and made her way into the sunlight. +After this her attendants were obliged to allow her +to go where she wished, when her parents were away. As +she went roaming about the palace she came to a cage “in +which a <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>,<a name="FNanchor_369_369" id="FNanchor_369_369"></a><a href="#Footnote_369_369" class="fnanchor">[369]</a> lay [as if] dead.” This bird, her +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span> +guardians told her, slept soundly all day, but at night +her papa flew about on it. Farther on she came to a +veiled portrait. When the veil was lifted, she cried in +astonishment “Can such beauty be?” and determined to +fly on the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> to the original of the picture. So at +night she sought the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>, which was sitting up and +flapping its wings, and asked whether she might fly abroad +on its back. The bird consented and bore her far away. +Three times it carried her to the room of the prince whose +portrait she had so much admired. On the first and second +occasion he remained asleep during her visit, having been +plunged into a magic slumber by the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>. But +during her third visit he awoke, “and he and she wept and +wept, and exchanged betrothal rings.” So long did they +remain talking that, before the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> and his rider +could get back, “the day began to dawn—the bird sank +lower and lower and fell to the ground.” Then the princess, +thinking it was really dead, buried it in the earth—having +first cut off its wings, and “attached them to herself so as +to walk more lightly.”</p> + +<p>After various adventures she comes to a land of mourning. +“Why are you so mournful?” she asks. “Because +our king’s son has gone out of his mind,” is the reply. +“He eats a man every night.” Thereupon she goes to the +king and obtains leave to watch the prince by night. As +the clock strikes twelve the prince, who is laden with chains, +makes a rush at her; but the wings of the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> +rustle around her, and he sits down again. This takes +place three times, after which the light goes out. She +leaves the room in search of the means of rekindling it, +sees a glimmer in the distance, and sets off with a lantern +in search of it. Presently she finds an old witch who is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span> +sitting before a fire, above which seethes a cauldron. +“What have you got there?” she asks. “When this cauldron +seethes,” replies the witch, “within it does the heart +of Prince Ivan rage madly.”</p> + +<p>Pretending to be merely getting a light, the Princess +contrives to splash the seething liquid over the witch, who +immediately falls dead. Then she looks into the cauldron, +and there, in truth, she sees the Prince’s heart. When she +returns to his room he has recovered his senses. “Thank +you for bringing a light,” he says. “Why am I in chains?” +“Thus and thus,” says she. “You went out of your mind +and ate people.” Whereat he wonders greatly.<a name="FNanchor_370_370" id="FNanchor_370_370"></a><a href="#Footnote_370_370" class="fnanchor">[370]</a></p> + +<p>The <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>, or Fire-Bird, which plays so important +a part in this story, is worthy of special notice. Its name +is sufficient to show its close connection with flame or light,<a name="FNanchor_371_371" id="FNanchor_371_371"></a><a href="#Footnote_371_371" class="fnanchor">[371]</a> +and its appearance corresponds with its designation. Its +feathers blaze with silvery or golden sheen, its eyes shine +like crystal, it dwells in a golden cage. In the depth of the +night it flies into a garden, and lights it up as brightly as +could a thousand burning fires. A single feather from its +tail illuminates a dark room. It feeds upon golden apples +which have the power of bestowing youth and beauty, or +according to a Croatian version, on magic-grasses. Its song, +according to Bohemian legends, heals the sick and restores +sight to the blind. We have already seen that, as the +Phœnix, of which it seems to be a Slavonic counterpart, dies +in the flame from which it springs again into life, so the +<i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> sinks into a death-like slumber when the day +dawns, to awake to fresh life after the sunset.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> +One of the skazkas<a name="FNanchor_372_372" id="FNanchor_372_372"></a><a href="#Footnote_372_372" class="fnanchor">[372]</a> about the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> closely +resembles the well-known German tale of the Golden Bird.<a name="FNanchor_373_373" id="FNanchor_373_373"></a><a href="#Footnote_373_373" class="fnanchor">[373]</a> +But it is a “Chap-book” story, and therefore of doubtful +origin. King Vuislaf has an apple-tree which bears golden +fruits. These are stolen by a <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> which flies every +night into the garden, so he orders his sons to keep watch +there by turns. The elder brothers cannot keep awake, +and see nothing; but the youngest of the three, Prince Ivan, +though he fails to capture the bird, secures one of its tail-feathers. +After a time he leaves his home and goes forth +in search of the bird. Aided by a wolf, he reaches the +garden in which the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> lives, and succeeds in taking +it out of its golden cage. But trying, in spite of the +wolf’s warning, to carry off the cage itself, an alarm is sounded, +and he is taken prisoner. After various other adventures +he is killed by his envious brothers, but of course all comes +right in the end. In a version of the story which comes +from the Bukovina, one of the incidents is detailed at greater +length than in either the German or the Russian tale. +When the hero has been killed by his brothers, and they +have carried off the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>, and their victim’s golden +steed, and his betrothed princess—as long as he lies dead, +the princess remains mute and mournful, the horse refuses +to eat, the bird is silent, and its cage is lustreless. But as +soon as he comes back to life, the princess regains her +spirits, and the horse its appetite. The <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> recommences +its magic song, and its cage flashes anew like fire.</p> + +<p>In another skazka<a name="FNanchor_374_374" id="FNanchor_374_374"></a><a href="#Footnote_374_374" class="fnanchor">[374]</a> a <ins class="correction" title="sportman in original">sportsman</ins> finds in a forest “a +golden feather of the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>; like fire does the feather +shine!” Against the advice of his “heroic steed,” he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> +picks up the feather and takes it to the king, who sends him +in search of the bird itself. Then he has wheat scattered +on the ground, and at dawn he hides behind a tree near it. +“Presently the forest begins to roar, the sea rises in waves, +and the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> flies up, lights upon the ground and +begins to peck the wheat.” Then the “heroic steed” +gallops up, sets its hoof upon the bird’s wing, and presses +it to the ground, so that the shooter is able to bind it with +cords, and take it to the king. In a variant of the story +the bird is captured by means of a trap—a cage in which +“pearls large and small” have been strewed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>I had intended to say something about the various +golden haired or golden-horned animals which figure in the +Skazkas, but it will be sufficient for the present to refer to +the notices of them which occur in Prof. de Gubernatis’s +“Zoological Mythology.” And now I will bring this chapter +to a close with the following weird story of</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Warlock.</span><a name="FNanchor_375_375" id="FNanchor_375_375"></a><a href="#Footnote_375_375" class="fnanchor">[375]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was once a Moujik, and he had three married sons. +He lived a long while, and was looked upon by the village as a +<i>Koldun</i> [or wizard]. When he was about to die, he gave orders +that his sons’ wives should keep watch over him [after his death] +for three nights, taking one night apiece; that his body should +be placed in the outer chamber,<a name="FNanchor_376_376" id="FNanchor_376_376"></a><a href="#Footnote_376_376" class="fnanchor">[376]</a> and that his sons’ wives +should spin wool to make him a caftan. He ordered, moreover, +that no cross should be placed upon him, and that none should +be worn by his daughters-in-law.</p> + +<p>Well, that same night the eldest daughter-in-law took her +seat beside him with some grey wool, and began spinning. +Midnight arrives. Says the father-in-law from his coffin:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> +“Daughter-in-law, art thou there?”</p> + +<p>She was terribly frightened, but answered, “I am.” “Art +thou sitting?” “I sit.” “Dost thou spin?” “I spin.” “Grey +wool?” “Grey.” “For a caftan?” “For a caftan.”</p> + +<p>He made a movement towards her. Then a second time he +asked again—</p> + +<p>“Daughter-in-law, art thou there?”</p> + +<p>“I am.” “Art thou sitting?” “I sit.” “Dost thou spin?” +“I spin.” “Grey wool?” “Grey.” “For a caftan?” “For a +caftan.”</p> + +<p>She shrank into the corner. He moved again, came a couple +of yards nearer her.</p> + +<p>A third time he made a movement. She offered up no +prayer. He strangled her, and then lay down again in his coffin.</p> + +<p>His sons removed her body, and next evening, in obedience +to his paternal behest, they sent another of his daughters-in-law +to keep watch. To her just the same thing happened: he +strangled her as he had done the first one.</p> + +<p>But the third was sharper than the other two. She declared +she had taken off her cross, but in reality she kept it on. She +took her seat and spun, but said prayers to herself all the while.</p> + +<p>Midnight arrives. Says her father-in-law from his coffin—</p> + +<p>“Daughter-in-law, art thou there?”</p> + +<p>“I am,” she replies. “Art thou sitting?” “I sit.” “Dost +thou spin?” “I spin.” “Grey wool?” “Grey.” “For a +caftan?” “For a caftan.”</p> + +<p>Just the same took place a second time. The third time, just +as he was going to rush at her, she laid the cross upon him. He +fell down and died. She looked into the coffin; there lay ever +so much money. The father-in-law wanted to take it away with +him, or, at all events, that only some one who could outdo him in +cunning should get it.<a name="FNanchor_377_377" id="FNanchor_377_377"></a><a href="#Footnote_377_377" class="fnanchor">[377]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;"><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> +In one of the least intelligible of the West Highland +tales, there is a scene which somewhat resembles the +“lykewake” in this skazka. It is called “The Girl and +the Dead Man,” and relates, among other strange things, +how a youngest sister took service in a house where a +corpse lay. “She sat to watch the dead man, and she was +sewing; in the middle of night he rose up, and screwed +up a grin. ‘If thou dost not lie down properly, I will give +thee the one leathering with a stick.’ He lay down. At +the end of a while, he rose on one elbow, and screwed up +a grin; and the third time he rose and screwed up a grin. +When he rose the third time, she struck him a lounder of +the stick; the stick stuck to the dead man, and the hand +stuck to the stick, and out they were.” Eventually “she +got a peck of gold and a peck of silver, and the vessel of +cordial” and returned home.<a name="FNanchor_378_378" id="FNanchor_378_378"></a><a href="#Footnote_378_378" class="fnanchor">[378]</a></p> + +<p>The obscurity of the Celtic tale forms a striking contrast +to the lucidity of the Slavonic. The Russian peasant +likes a clear statement of facts; the Highlander seems, +like Coleridge’s Scotch admirer, to find a pleasure in seeing +“an idea looming out of the mist.”</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_296_296" id="Footnote_296_296"></a><a href="#FNanchor_296_296"><span class="label">[296]</span></a> About which, see Professor Wilson’s note on Somadeva’s story of the “Origin +of Pátaliputra,” “Essays,” i. p. 168-9, with Dr. Rost’s reference to L. Deslongchamps, +“Essai sur les Fables Indiennes,” Paris, 1838, p. 35 and Grässe, “Sagenkreise +des Mittelalters,” Leipsig, 1842, p. 191. See also the numerous references +given by Grimm, <i>KM.</i> iii. pp. 168-9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_297_297" id="Footnote_297_297"></a><a href="#FNanchor_297_297"><span class="label">[297]</span></a> As well as in all the mythologies. For the magic draught of the fairy-story +appears to be closely connected with the Greek <i>ambrosia</i>, the Vedic <i>soma</i> or <i>amrita</i>, +the Zend <i>haoma</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_298_298" id="Footnote_298_298"></a><a href="#FNanchor_298_298"><span class="label">[298]</span></a> A water, “Das Wasser des Lebens,” in two German stories (Grimm, Nos. 92 +and 97, and iii. p. 178), and in many Greek tales (Hahn, Nos. 32, 37, &c.). An oil +or ointment in the Norse tale (Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 35, Dasent, No. 3). A balsam +in Gaelic tales, in which a “Vessel of Balsam” often occurs. According to Mr. +Campbell (“West Highland Tales,” i. p. 218), “Ballan Iocshlaint, teat, of ichor, of +health, seems to be the meaning of the words.” The juice squeezed from the leaves +of a tree in a modern Indian tale (“Old Deccan Days,” p. 139).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_299_299" id="Footnote_299_299"></a><a href="#FNanchor_299_299"><span class="label">[299]</span></a> The mythical bird Garuda, the Indian original of the Roc of the Arabian Nights, +was similarly connected with the Amrita. See the story of Garuda and the Nágas in +Brockhaus’s translation of the “Kathásaritságara,” ii. pp. 98-105. On the Vedic +falcon which brings the Soma down to earth, see Kuhn’s “Herabkunft des Feuers,” +pp. 138-142.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_300_300" id="Footnote_300_300"></a><a href="#FNanchor_300_300"><span class="label">[300]</span></a> In the Russian periodical, “Otechestvennuiya Zapiski,” vol. 43 (for 1830) pp. +252-6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_301_301" id="Footnote_301_301"></a><a href="#FNanchor_301_301"><span class="label">[301]</span></a> Schiefners’s translation, 1852, pp. 80, 81.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_302_302" id="Footnote_302_302"></a><a href="#FNanchor_302_302"><span class="label">[302]</span></a> In that attributed to Sivadása, tale 2 (Lassen’s “Anthologia Sanscritica,” pp. +16-19), and in the “Kathásaritságara,” chap. lxxvi. See Brockhaus’s summary in +the “Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der Kön. Sächs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften,” +December 3, 1853, pp. 194-5.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_303_303" id="Footnote_303_303"></a><a href="#FNanchor_303_303"><span class="label">[303]</span></a> The “Baitál-Pachísí,” translated by Ghulam Mohammad Munshi, Bombay +1868, pp. 23-24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_304_304" id="Footnote_304_304"></a><a href="#FNanchor_304_304"><span class="label">[304]</span></a> B. G. Babington’s translation of “The Vedàla Cadai,” p. 32. contained in the +“Miscellaneous Translations” of the Oriental Translation Fund, 1831, vol. i. pt. iv +pp. 32 and 67.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_305_305" id="Footnote_305_305"></a><a href="#FNanchor_305_305"><span class="label">[305]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> ii. 551.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_306_306" id="Footnote_306_306"></a><a href="#FNanchor_306_306"><span class="label">[306]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. p. 205.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_307_307" id="Footnote_307_307"></a><a href="#FNanchor_307_307"><span class="label">[307]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 5 <i>b</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_308_308" id="Footnote_308_308"></a><a href="#FNanchor_308_308"><span class="label">[308]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 5 <i>a</i>. For the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i>, see infra, p. <a href="#Page_285">285</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_309_309" id="Footnote_309_309"></a><a href="#FNanchor_309_309"><span class="label">[309]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. p. 249. For a number of interesting legends, collected from the +most distant parts of the world, about grinding mountains and crashing cliffs, &c., +see Tylor’s “Primitive Culture,” pp. 313-16. After quoting three mythic descriptions +found among the Karens, the Algonquins, and the Aztecs, Mr. Tylor remarks, +“On the suggestion of this group of solar conceptions and that of Maui’s death, we +may perhaps explain as derived from a broken-down fancy of solar-myth, that famous +episode of Greek legend, where the good ship Argo passed between the Symplêgades, +those two huge cliffs that opened and closed again with swift and violent collision.”</p> + +<p>Several of the Modern Greek stories are very like the skazka mentioned above. +In one of these (Hahn, ii. p. 234), a Lamia guards the water of life +(<ins class="greek" title="abanato nero">ἀϐάνατο νερὸ</ins>) +which flows within a rock; in another (ii. p. 280) a mountain opens at midday, and +several springs are disclosed, each of which cries “Draw from me!” but the only +one which is life-giving is that to which a bee flies.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_310_310" id="Footnote_310_310"></a><a href="#FNanchor_310_310"><span class="label">[310]</span></a> Wenzig, p. 148.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_311_311" id="Footnote_311_311"></a><a href="#FNanchor_311_311"><span class="label">[311]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> ii. 353.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_312_312" id="Footnote_312_312"></a><a href="#FNanchor_312_312"><span class="label">[312]</span></a> See above, p. <a href="#Page_233">233</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_313_313" id="Footnote_313_313"></a><a href="#FNanchor_313_313"><span class="label">[313]</span></a> <i>Silnaya voda</i> or potent water, and <i>bezsilnaya voda</i>, or impotent water (<i>sila</i> = +strength).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_314_314" id="Footnote_314_314"></a><a href="#FNanchor_314_314"><span class="label">[314]</span></a> <i>Palitsa</i> = a cudgel, etc. In the variant of the story quoted in the preceding +section the prince seized Vikhor by the right little finger, <i>mizinets</i>. <i>Palets</i> meant a +finger. The similarity of the two words may have led to a confusion of ideas.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_315_315" id="Footnote_315_315"></a><a href="#FNanchor_315_315"><span class="label">[315]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. pp. 97-103.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_316_316" id="Footnote_316_316"></a><a href="#FNanchor_316_316"><span class="label">[316]</span></a> Muir’s “Sanskrit Texts,” v. p. 258 and p. 94. See, also Mannhardt’s “Germ. +Mythen,” pp. 96-97.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_317_317" id="Footnote_317_317"></a><a href="#FNanchor_317_317"><span class="label">[317]</span></a> Being as destructive as the poison which was created during the churning of +the Amrita.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_318_318" id="Footnote_318_318"></a><a href="#FNanchor_318_318"><span class="label">[318]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 35.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_319_319" id="Footnote_319_319"></a><a href="#FNanchor_319_319"><span class="label">[319]</span></a> In the original he is generally designated as <i>Katòma—dyàd’ka, dubovaya +shàpka</i>, “Katòma-governor, oaken-hat.” Not being able to preserve the assonance, +I have dropped the greater part of his title.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_320_320" id="Footnote_320_320"></a><a href="#FNanchor_320_320"><span class="label">[320]</span></a> <i>Bogodanny</i> (<i>bog</i> = God; <i>dat’</i>, <i>davat’</i> = to give). One of the Russian equivalents +for our hideous “father-in-law” is “god-given father” (<i>bogodanny otets</i>), and for +“mother-in-law,” <i>bogodanny mat’</i> or “God-given mother.” (Dahl.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_321_321" id="Footnote_321_321"></a><a href="#FNanchor_321_321"><span class="label">[321]</span></a> Four lines are omitted here. See A. de Gubernatis, “Zool. Mythology,” <ins class="correction" title="omitted from original">i.</ins> 181, +where a solar explanation of the whole story will be found.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_322_322" id="Footnote_322_322"></a><a href="#FNanchor_322_322"><span class="label">[322]</span></a> These ejaculations belong to the story-teller.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_323_323" id="Footnote_323_323"></a><a href="#FNanchor_323_323"><span class="label">[323]</span></a> Literally, “Seemed to her as small as a lamb.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_324_324" id="Footnote_324_324"></a><a href="#FNanchor_324_324"><span class="label">[324]</span></a> <i>Kolòdez</i>, a word connected with <i>kolòda</i> a log, trough, &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_325_325" id="Footnote_325_325"></a><a href="#FNanchor_325_325"><span class="label">[325]</span></a> Afanasief, viii. No. 23 <i>a</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_326_326" id="Footnote_326_326"></a><a href="#FNanchor_326_326"><span class="label">[326]</span></a> To this episode a striking parallel is offered by that of Gunther’s wedding night +in the “Nibelungenlied,” in which Brynhild flings her husband Gunther across the +room, kneels on his chest, and finally binds him hand and foot, and suspends him +from a nail till daybreak. The next night Siegfried takes his place, and wrestles +with the mighty maiden. After a long struggle he flings her on the floor and forces +her to submit. Then he leaves the room and Gunther returns. A summary of the +story will be found in the “Tales of the Teutonic Lands,” by G. W. <ins class="correction" title="omitted from original">Cox</ins> and E. H. +Jones, pp. 94-5.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_327_327" id="Footnote_327_327"></a><a href="#FNanchor_327_327"><span class="label">[327]</span></a> Khudyakof, i. No. 19. pp. 73-7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_328_328" id="Footnote_328_328"></a><a href="#FNanchor_328_328"><span class="label">[328]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 19, pp. 95-7. For a Little-Russian version see +<ins class="correction" title="Kullish in original">Kulish</ins>, ii. pp. 59-82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_329_329" id="Footnote_329_329"></a><a href="#FNanchor_329_329"><span class="label">[329]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 26. From the Kursk Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_330_330" id="Footnote_330_330"></a><a href="#FNanchor_330_330"><span class="label">[330]</span></a> <i>Prashchurui.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_331_331" id="Footnote_331_331"></a><a href="#FNanchor_331_331"><span class="label">[331]</span></a> The sentence in italics is a good specimen of the <i>priskazka</i>, or preface.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_332_332" id="Footnote_332_332"></a><a href="#FNanchor_332_332"><span class="label">[332]</span></a> <i>Gramota</i> = <ins class="greek" title="grammata">γράμματα</ins> +whence comes <i>gràmotey</i>, able to read and write = <ins class="greek" title="grammatikos">γραμματικός</ins>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_333_333" id="Footnote_333_333"></a><a href="#FNanchor_333_333"><span class="label">[333]</span></a> Vanya and Vanyusha are diminutives of Ivan (John), answering to our Johnny; +Vanka is another, more like our Jack.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_334_334" id="Footnote_334_334"></a><a href="#FNanchor_334_334"><span class="label">[334]</span></a> Literally “with a Solovei-like whistle.” The word <i>solovei</i> generally means a +nightingale, but it was also the name of a mythical hero, a robber whose voice or +whistle had the power of killing those who heard it.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_335_335" id="Footnote_335_335"></a><a href="#FNanchor_335_335"><span class="label">[335]</span></a> <i>Chmoknuel</i>, smacked.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_336_336" id="Footnote_336_336"></a><a href="#FNanchor_336_336"><span class="label">[336]</span></a> See Barsof’s rich collection of North-Russian funeral poetry, entitled “Prichitaniya +Syevernago Kraya,” Moscow, 1872. Also the “Songs of the Russian People,” +pp. 334-345.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_337_337" id="Footnote_337_337"></a><a href="#FNanchor_337_337"><span class="label">[337]</span></a> Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days,” pp. 3, 4.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_338_338" id="Footnote_338_338"></a><a href="#FNanchor_338_338"><span class="label">[338]</span></a> Grimm, <i>KM.</i> No. 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_339_339" id="Footnote_339_339"></a><a href="#FNanchor_339_339"><span class="label">[339]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 54.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_340_340" id="Footnote_340_340"></a><a href="#FNanchor_340_340"><span class="label">[340]</span></a> <i>Ona krava shto yoy ye bila mati</i>, Vuk Karajich, p. 158. In the German translation +(p. 188) <i>Wie dies nun die Kuh sah, die einst seine Mutter gewesen war</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_341_341" id="Footnote_341_341"></a><a href="#FNanchor_341_341"><span class="label">[341]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. p. 254.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_342_342" id="Footnote_342_342"></a><a href="#FNanchor_342_342"><span class="label">[342]</span></a> <i>Cherez dvyenadtsat’ stekol.</i> <i>Steklo</i> means a glass, or a pane of glass.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_343_343" id="Footnote_343_343"></a><a href="#FNanchor_343_343"><span class="label">[343]</span></a> Afanasief, ii. p. 269.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_344_344" id="Footnote_344_344"></a><a href="#FNanchor_344_344"><span class="label">[344]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 50.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_345_345" id="Footnote_345_345"></a><a href="#FNanchor_345_345"><span class="label">[345]</span></a> Afanasief, iii. p. 25.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_346_346" id="Footnote_346_346"></a><a href="#FNanchor_346_346"><span class="label">[346]</span></a> Dasent’s “Norse Tales,” No. 40. Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 37. “Grimsborken.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_347_347" id="Footnote_347_347"></a><a href="#FNanchor_347_347"><span class="label">[347]</span></a> Dasent, No. 13. Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 51. “Jomfruen paa Glasberget.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_348_348" id="Footnote_348_348"></a><a href="#FNanchor_348_348"><span class="label">[348]</span></a> Campbell’s “West-Highland Tales,” iii. pp. 265, 266.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_349_349" id="Footnote_349_349"></a><a href="#FNanchor_349_349"><span class="label">[349]</span></a> Miss Frere’s “Old Deccan Days,” pp. 31, 73, 95, 135.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_350_350" id="Footnote_350_350"></a><a href="#FNanchor_350_350"><span class="label">[350]</span></a> “Völsunga Saga,” translated by E. Magnússon and W. Morris, pp. 95-6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_351_351" id="Footnote_351_351"></a><a href="#FNanchor_351_351"><span class="label">[351]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 32. From the Novgorod Government. A “chap-book” +version of this story will be found in Dietrich’s collection (pp. 152-68 of the English +translation); also in Keightley’s “Tales and Popular Fictions.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_352_352" id="Footnote_352_352"></a><a href="#FNanchor_352_352"><span class="label">[352]</span></a> <i>Nijnie</i>, lower. Thus Nijny Novgorod is the lower (down the Volga) Novgorod. +(Dahl.)</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_353_353" id="Footnote_353_353"></a><a href="#FNanchor_353_353"><span class="label">[353]</span></a> <i>Kukova</i>, a stick or cudgel, one end of which is bent and rounded like a ball.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_354_354" id="Footnote_354_354"></a><a href="#FNanchor_354_354"><span class="label">[354]</span></a> <i>Tak de ego ne vzat’.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_355_355" id="Footnote_355_355"></a><a href="#FNanchor_355_355"><span class="label">[355]</span></a> There are numerous variants of this story among the Skazkas. In one of these +(Afanasief, vii. No. 31) the man on whom the pike has bestowed supernatural power +uses it to turn a Maiden princess into a mother. This renders the story wholly in +accordance with (1) the Modern Greek tale of “The Half Man,” (Hahn, No. 8) in +which the magic formula runs, “according to the first word of God and the second of +the fish shall such and such a thing be done!” (2) The Neapolitan story of “Pervonto” +(Basile’s “Pentamerone,” No. 3) who obtains his magic power from three +youths whom he screens from the sun as they lie asleep one hot day, and who turn out +to be sons of a fairy. Afanasief compares the story also with the German tale of “The +Little Grey Mannikin,” in the “Zeitschrift für Deutsche Mythologie,” &c., i. pp. 38-40. +The incident of wishes being fulfilled by a fish occurs in many stories, as in that +of “The Fisherman,” in the “Arabian Nights,” “The Fisherman and his Wife,” in +Grimm (<i>KM.</i>, No. 19). A number of stories about the Pike are referred to by A. de +Gubernatis (“Zoolog. Mythology,” ii. 337-9).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_356_356" id="Footnote_356_356"></a><a href="#FNanchor_356_356"><span class="label">[356]</span></a> Quoted by Afanasief from Siemienski’s “Podania,” Posen, 1845, p. 42.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_357_357" id="Footnote_357_357"></a><a href="#FNanchor_357_357"><span class="label">[357]</span></a> “Songs of the Russian People,” pp. 387-427.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_358_358" id="Footnote_358_358"></a><a href="#FNanchor_358_358"><span class="label">[358]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 36 <i>a</i>. This story has no special title in the original.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_359_359" id="Footnote_359_359"></a><a href="#FNanchor_359_359"><span class="label">[359]</span></a> The rural police. <i>Sotnick</i> = centurion, from <i>sto</i> = 100. <i>Desyatnik</i> is a word +of the same kind from <i>desyat</i> = 10.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_360_360" id="Footnote_360_360"></a><a href="#FNanchor_360_360"><span class="label">[360]</span></a> A Ponomar is a kind of sacristan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_361_361" id="Footnote_361_361"></a><a href="#FNanchor_361_361"><span class="label">[361]</span></a> “Der Werwolf, Beitrag zur Sagengeschichte,” Stuttgart, 1862. For Russian +ideas on the subject see “Songs of the Russian people,” pp. 403-9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_362_362" id="Footnote_362_362"></a><a href="#FNanchor_362_362"><span class="label">[362]</span></a> “Polnische Volkssagen” (translated by Lewestam), p. 61.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_363_363" id="Footnote_363_363"></a><a href="#FNanchor_363_363"><span class="label">[363]</span></a> Brockhaus’s “<ins class="correction" title="Märchensammlung in original">Mährchensammlung</ins> des Somadeva Bhatta,” ii. p. 24.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_364_364" id="Footnote_364_364"></a><a href="#FNanchor_364_364"><span class="label">[364]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 36 <i>b</i>. This story, also, is without special title.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_365_365" id="Footnote_365_365"></a><a href="#FNanchor_365_365"><span class="label">[365]</span></a> In Mr. Hain Friswell’s collection of “Ghost Stories,” 1858.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_366_366" id="Footnote_366_366"></a><a href="#FNanchor_366_366"><span class="label">[366]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 36 <i>c</i>. Also without special title.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_367_367" id="Footnote_367_367"></a><a href="#FNanchor_367_367"><span class="label">[367]</span></a> The Russian <i>skovoroda</i> is a sort of stew-pan, of great size, without a handle.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_368_368" id="Footnote_368_368"></a><a href="#FNanchor_368_368"><span class="label">[368]</span></a> From Professor Brockhaus’s summary in the “Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der +Königl. Sächs. <ins class="correction" title="Gessellschaft in original">Gesellschaft</ins> der Wissenschaften,” 1861, pp. 215, 16.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_369_369" id="Footnote_369_369"></a><a href="#FNanchor_369_369"><span class="label">[369]</span></a> For an account of this mythological bird, see the note on <a href="#Page_290">next page</a>. Ornithologically, +the <i>Zhar-ptitsa</i> is the Cassowary.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_370_370" id="Footnote_370_370"></a><a href="#FNanchor_370_370"><span class="label">[370]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 110. From the Nijegorod Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_371_371" id="Footnote_371_371"></a><a href="#FNanchor_371_371"><span class="label">[371]</span></a> <i>Zhar</i> = glowing heat, as of a furnace; <i>zhar-ptitsa</i> = the glow-bird. Its name +among the Czekhs and Slovaks is <i>Ptak Ohnivák</i>. The heathens Slavonians are said +to have worshipped Ogon or Agon, Fire, the counterpart of the Vedic Agni. <i>Agon</i> +is still the ordinary Russian word for fire, the equivalent of the Latin <i>ignis</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_372_372" id="Footnote_372_372"></a><a href="#FNanchor_372_372"><span class="label">[372]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 11. See also the notes in viii. p. 620, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_373_373" id="Footnote_373_373"></a><a href="#FNanchor_373_373"><span class="label">[373]</span></a> Grimm’s <i>KM.</i>, No. 57. See the notes in Bd. iii. p. 98.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_374_374" id="Footnote_374_374"></a><a href="#FNanchor_374_374"><span class="label">[374]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 12.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_375_375" id="Footnote_375_375"></a><a href="#FNanchor_375_375"><span class="label">[375]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 104. From the Orel Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_376_376" id="Footnote_376_376"></a><a href="#FNanchor_376_376"><span class="label">[376]</span></a> The <i>kholodnaya izba</i>—the “cold izba,” as opposed to the “warm izba” or living +room.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_377_377" id="Footnote_377_377"></a><a href="#FNanchor_377_377"><span class="label">[377]</span></a> The etymology of the word <i>koldun</i> is still, I believe, a moot point. The discovery +of the money in the warlock’s coffin seems an improbable incident. In the +original version of the story the wizard may, perhaps, have turned into a heap of +gold (see above, p. <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, on “Gold-men”).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_378_378" id="Footnote_378_378"></a><a href="#FNanchor_378_378"><span class="label">[378]</span></a> Campbell, No. 13, vol. i. p. 215.</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>GHOST STORIES.</h3> + + +<p>The Russian peasants have very confused ideas about the +local habitation of the disembodied spirit, after its former +tenement has been laid in the grave. They seem, from +the language of their funeral songs, sometimes to regard +the departed spirit as residing in the coffin which holds +the body from which it has been severed, sometimes to +imagine that it hovers around the building which used to +be its home, or flies abroad on the wings of the winds. In +the food and money and other necessaries of existence still +placed in the coffin with the corpse, may be seen traces of +an old belief in a journey which the soul was forced to +undertake after the death of the body; in the <i>pomniki</i> or +feasts in memory of the dead, celebrated at certain short +intervals after a death, and also on its anniversary, may +be clearly recognized the remains of a faith in the continued +residence of the dead in the spot where they had +been buried, and in their subjection to some physical sufferings, +their capacity for certain animal enjoyments. The +two beliefs run side by side with each other, sometimes +clashing and producing strange results—all the more +strange when they show signs of an attempt having been +made to reconcile them with Christian ideas.<a name="FNanchor_379_379" id="FNanchor_379_379"></a><a href="#Footnote_379_379" class="fnanchor">[379]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> +Of a heavenly or upper-world home of departed spirits, +neither the songs nor the stories of the people, so far as I +am aware, make mention. But that there is a country +beyond the sky, inhabited by supernatural beings of magic +power and unbounded wealth, is stated in a number of +tales of the well-known “Jack and the Beanstalk” type. +Of these the following may be taken as a specimen.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Fox-Physician.</span><a name="FNanchor_380_380" id="FNanchor_380_380"></a><a href="#Footnote_380_380" class="fnanchor">[380]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There once was an old couple. The old man planted a cabbage-head +in the cellar under the floor of his cottage; the old +woman planted one in the ash-hole. The old woman’s cabbage, +in the ash-hole, withered away entirely; but the old man’s grew +and grew, grew up to the floor. The old man took his hatchet and +cut a hole in the floor above the cabbage. The cabbage went on +growing again; grew, grew right up to the ceiling. Again the old +man took his hatchet and cut a hole in the ceiling above the cabbage. +The cabbage grew and grew, grew right up to the sky. +How was the old man to get a look at the head of the cabbage? +He began climbing up the cabbage-stalk, climbed and climbed, +climbed and climbed, climbed right up to the sky, cut a hole in +the sky, and crept through. There he sees a mill<a name="FNanchor_381_381" id="FNanchor_381_381"></a><a href="#Footnote_381_381" class="fnanchor">[381]</a> standing. +The mill gives a turn—out come a pie and a cake with a pot of +stewed grain on top.</p> + +<p>The old man ate his fill, drank his fill, and then lay down to +sleep. When he had slept enough he slid down to earth again, +and cried:</p> + +<p>“Old woman! why, old woman! how one does live up in +heaven! There’s a mill there—every time it turns, out come a +pie and a cake, with a pot of <i>kasha</i> on top!”</p> + +<p>“How can I get there, old man?”</p> + +<p>“Slip into this sack, old woman. I’ll carry you up.”</p> + +<p>The old woman thought a bit, and then got into the sack. +The old man took the sack in his teeth, and began climbing up +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span> +to heaven. He climbed and climbed, long did he climb. The +old woman got tired of waiting and asked:</p> + +<p>“Is it much farther, old man?”</p> + +<p>“We’ve half the way to go still.”</p> + +<p>Again he climbed and climbed, climbed and climbed. A +second time the old woman asked:</p> + +<p>“Is it much farther, old man?”</p> + +<p>The old man was just beginning to say: “Not much farther—” when +the sack slipped from between his teeth, and the old +woman fell to the ground and was smashed all to pieces. The +old man slid down the cabbage-stalk and picked up the sack. +But it had nothing in it but bones, and those broken very small. +The old man went out of his house and wept bitterly.</p> + +<p>Presently a fox met him.</p> + +<p>“What are you crying about, old man?”</p> + +<p>“How can I help crying? My old woman is smashed to +pieces.”</p> + +<p>“Hold your noise! I’ll cure her.”</p> + +<p>The old man fell at the fox’s feet.</p> + +<p>“Only cure her! I’ll pay whatever is wanted.”</p> + +<p>“Well, then, heat the bath-room, carry the old woman there +along with a bag of oatmeal and a pot of butter, and then stand +outside the door; but don’t look inside.”</p> + +<p>The old man heated the bath-room, carried in what was +wanted, and stood outside at the door. But the fox went into +the bath-room, shut the door, and began washing the old +woman’s remains; washed and washed, and kept looking about +her all the time.</p> + +<p>“How’s my old woman getting on?” asked the old man.</p> + +<p>“Beginning to stir!” replied the fox, who then ate up the +old woman, collected her bones and piled them up in a corner, +and set to work to knead a hasty pudding.</p> + +<p>The old man waited and waited. Presently he asked;</p> + +<p>“How’s my old woman getting on?”</p> + +<p>“Resting a bit!” cried the fox, as she gobbled up the hasty +pudding.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> +When she had finished it she cried:</p> + +<p>“Old man! open the door wide.”</p> + +<p>He opened it, and the fox sprang out of the bath-room and +ran off home. The old man went into the bath-room and looked +about him. Nothing was to be seen but the old woman’s bones +under the bench—and those picked so clean! As for the oatmeal +and the butter, they had all been eaten up. So the old man was +left alone and in poverty.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">This story is evidently a combination of two widely +differing tales. The catastrophe we may for the present +pass over, but about the opening some few words may be +said. The Beanstalk myth is one which is found among +so many peoples in such widely distant regions, and it +deals with ideas of such importance, that no contribution +to its history can be considered valueless. Most remarkable +among its numerous forms are those American and +Malayo-Polynesian versions of the “heaven-tree” story +which Mr. Tylor has brought together in his “Early History +of mankind.”<a name="FNanchor_382_382" id="FNanchor_382_382"></a><a href="#Footnote_382_382" class="fnanchor">[382]</a> In Europe it is usually found in a +very crude and fragmentary form, having been preserved, +for the most part, as the introduction to some other story +which has proved more attractive to the popular fancy. +The Russian versions are all, as far as I am aware, of this +nature. I have already<a name="FNanchor_383_383" id="FNanchor_383_383"></a><a href="#Footnote_383_383" class="fnanchor">[383]</a> mentioned one of them, in which, +also, the Fox plays a prominent part. Its opening words +are, “There once lived an old man and an old woman, and +they had a little daughter. One day she was eating beans, +and she let one fall on the ground. The bean grew and +grew, and grew right up to heaven. The old man climbed +up to heaven, slipped in there, walked and walked, admired +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> +and admired, and said to himself, ‘I’ll go and fetch the +old woman; won’t she just be delighted!’” So he tries to +carry his wife up the bean stalk, but grows faint and lets +her fall; she is killed, and he calls in the Fox as Wailer.<a name="FNanchor_384_384" id="FNanchor_384_384"></a><a href="#Footnote_384_384" class="fnanchor">[384]</a></p> + +<p>In a variant of the “Fox Physician” from the Vologda +Government, it is a pea which gives birth to the wondrous +tree. “There lived an old man and an old woman; the +old man was rolling a pea about, and it fell on the ground. +They searched and searched a whole week, but they +couldn’t find it. The week passed by, and the old people +saw that the pea had begun to sprout. They watered it +regularly, and the pea set to work and grew higher than +the izba. When the peas ripened, the old man climbed up +to where they were, plucked a great bundle of them, and +began sliding down the stalk again. But the bundle fell +out of the old man’s hands and killed the old woman.”<a name="FNanchor_385_385" id="FNanchor_385_385"></a><a href="#Footnote_385_385" class="fnanchor">[385]</a></p> + +<p>According to another variant, “There once lived a +grandfather and a grandmother, and they had a hut. The +grandfather sowed a bean under the table, and the grandmother +a pea. A hen gobbled up the pea, but the bean +grew up as high as the table. They moved the table, and +the bean grew still higher. They cut away the ceiling and +the roof; it went on growing until it grew right up to the +heavens (<i>nebo</i>). The grandfather climbed up to heaven, +climbed and climbed—there stood a hut (<i>khatka</i>), its walls +of pancakes, its benches of white bread, the stove of buttered +curds. He began to eat, ate his fill, and lay down +above the stove to sleep. In came twelve sister-goats. +The first had one eye, the second two eyes, the third three, +and so on with the rest, the last having twelve eyes. They +saw that some one had been meddling with their hut, so +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> +they put it to rights, and when they went out they left the +one-eyed to keep watch. Next day the grandfather again +climbed up there, saw One-Eye and began to mutter<a name="FNanchor_386_386" id="FNanchor_386_386"></a><a href="#Footnote_386_386" class="fnanchor">[386]</a> +‘Sleep, eye, sleep!’ The goat went to sleep. The man +ate his fill and went away. Next day the two-eyed kept +watch, and after it the three-eyed and so on. The grandfather +always muttered his charm ‘Sleep, eye! Sleep, +second eye! Sleep, third eye!’ and so on. But with the +twelfth goat he failed, for he charmed only eleven of her +eyes. The goat saw him with the twelfth and caught +him,”—and there the story ends.<a name="FNanchor_387_387" id="FNanchor_387_387"></a><a href="#Footnote_387_387" class="fnanchor">[387]</a></p> + +<p>In another instance the myth has been turned into one +of those tales of the Munchausen class, the title of which +is the “saw” <i>Ne lyubo, ne slushai</i>, <i>i.e.</i>, “If you don’t like, +don’t listen”—the final words being understood; “but let +me tell you a story.” A cock finds a pea in the part of a +cottage under the floor, and begins calling to the hens; +the cottager hears the call, drives away the cock, and +pours water over the pea. It grows up to the floor, up to +the ceiling, up to the roof; each time way is made for it, +and finally it grows right up to heaven (<i>do nebushka</i>). +Says the moujik to his wife:</p> + +<p>“Wife! wife, I say! shall I climb up into heaven and +see what’s going on there? May be there’s sugar there, +and mead—lots of everything!”</p> + +<p>“Climb away, if you’ve a mind to,” replies his wife.</p> + +<p>So he climbs up, and there he finds a large wooden +house. He enters in and sees a stove, garnished with sucking +pigs and geese and pies “and everything which the soul +could desire.” But the stove is guarded by a seven-eyed +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> +goat; the moujik charms six of the eyes to sleep, but +overlooks the seventh. With it the goat sees him eat and +drink and then go to sleep. The house-master comes in, +is informed by the goat of all that has occurred, flies into +a passion, calls his servants, and has the intruder turned +out of the house. When the moujik comes to the place +where the pea-stalk had been, “he looks around—no pea-stalk +is there.” He collects the cobwebs “which float on +the summer air,” and of them he makes a cord; this he +fastens “to the edge of heaven” and begins to descend. +Long before he reaches the earth he comes to the end of +his cord, so he crosses himself, and lets go. Falling into +a swamp, he remains there some time. At last a duck +builds her nest on his head, and lays an egg in it. He +catches hold of the duck’s tail, and the bird pulls him out +of the swamp; whereupon he goes home rejoicing, taking +with him the duck and her egg, and tells his wife all that +has happened.<a name="FNanchor_388_388" id="FNanchor_388_388"></a><a href="#Footnote_388_388" class="fnanchor">[388]</a></p> + +<p>In another variant it is an acorn which is sown under +the floor. From it springs an oak which grows to the +skies. The old man of the story climbs up it in search of +acorns, and reaches heaven. There he finds a hand-mill +and a cock with a golden comb, both of which he carries +off. The mill grinds pies and pancakes, and the old man +and his wife live in plenty. But after a time a Barin or +Seigneur steals the mill. The old people are in despair, +but the golden-combed cock flies after the mill, perches on +the Barin’s gates, and cries—</p> + +<p>“Kukureku! Boyarin, Boyarin! Give us back our +golden, sky-blue mill!”</p> + +<p>The cock is flung into the well, but it drinks all the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> +water, flies up to the Barin’s house, and there reiterates +its demand. Then it is thrown into the fire, but it extinguishes +the flames, flies right into the Barin’s guest-chamber, +and crows as before. The guests disperse, the Barin runs +after them, and the golden-combed cock seizes the mill +and flies away with it.<a name="FNanchor_389_389" id="FNanchor_389_389"></a><a href="#Footnote_389_389" class="fnanchor">[389]</a></p> + +<p>In a variant from the Smolensk Government, it is the +wife who climbs up the pea-stalk, while the husband remains +down below. When she reaches the top, she finds +an <i>izbushka</i> or cottage there, its walls made of pies, its +tables of cheese, its stove of pancakes, and so forth. After +she has feasted and gone to sleep in a corner, in come +three goats, of which the first has two eyes and two ears, +the second has three of each of these organs, and the third +has four. The old woman sends to sleep the ears and the +eyes of the first and the second goat; but when the third +watches it retains the use of its fourth eye and fourth ear, +in spite of the incantations uttered by the intruder, and so +finds her out. On being questioned, she explains that she +has come “from the earthly realm into the heavenly,” and +promises not to repeat her visit if she is dismissed in +peace. So the goats let her go, and give her a bag of +nuts, apples, and other good things to take with her. She +slides down the pea-stalk and tells her husband all that +has happened. He persuades her to undertake a second +ascent together with him, so off they set in company, their +young granddaughter climbing after them. Suddenly the +pea-stalk breaks, they fall headlong and are never heard +of again. “Since that time,” says the story, “no one has +ever set foot in that heavenly izbushka—so no one knows +anything more about it.”<a name="FNanchor_390_390" id="FNanchor_390_390"></a><a href="#Footnote_390_390" class="fnanchor">[390]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> +Clearer and fuller than these vague and fragmentary +sketches of a “heavenly realm,” are the pictures contained +in the Russian folk-tales of the underground world. But +it is very doubtful how far the stories in which they figure +represent ancient Slavonic ideas. In the name, if not in +the nature, of the <i>Ad</i>, or subterranean abode of evil spirits +and sinful souls, we recognize the influence of the Byzantine +Hades; but most of the tales in which it occurs are +supposed to draw their original inspiration from Indian +sources, while they owe to Christian, Brahmanic, Buddhistic, +and Mohammedan influences the form in which they +now appear. To these “legends,” as the folk-tales are +styled in which the saints or their ghostly enemies occur, +belongs the following narrative of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Fiddler in Hell.</span><a name="FNanchor_391_391" id="FNanchor_391_391"></a><a href="#Footnote_391_391" class="fnanchor">[391]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>There was a certain moujik who had three sons. His life was +a prosperous one, and he laid by money enough to fill two pots. +The one he buried in his corn-kiln, the other under the gate of +his farmyard. Well, the moujik died, and never said a word +about the money to any one. One day there was a festival in +the village. A fiddler was on his way to the revel when, all of +a sudden, he sank into the earth—sank right through and +tumbled into hell, lighting exactly there where the rich moujik +was being tormented.</p> + +<p>“Hail, friend!” says the Fiddler.</p> + +<p>“It’s an ill wind that’s brought you hither!”<a name="FNanchor_392_392" id="FNanchor_392_392"></a><a href="#Footnote_392_392" class="fnanchor">[392]</a> answers the +moujik; “this is hell, and in hell here I sit.”</p> + +<p>“What was it brought you here, uncle?”</p> + +<p>“It was money! I had much money: I gave none to the +poor, two pots of it did I bury underground. See now, they +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> +are going to torment me, to beat me with sticks, to tear me with +nails.”</p> + +<p>“Whatever shall I do?” cried the Fiddler. “Perhaps +they’ll take to torturing me too!”</p> + +<p>“If you go and sit on the stove behind the chimney-pipe, +and don’t eat anything for three years—then you will remain +safe.”</p> + +<p>The Fiddler hid behind the stove-pipe. Then came fiends,<a name="FNanchor_393_393" id="FNanchor_393_393"></a><a href="#Footnote_393_393" class="fnanchor">[393]</a> +and they began to beat the rich moujik, reviling him the while, +and saying:</p> + +<p>“There’s for thee, O rich man. Pots of money didst thou +bury but thou couldst not hide them. There didst thou bury +them that we might not be able to keep watch over them. At +the gate people are always riding about, the horses crush our +heads with their hoofs, and in the corn-kiln we get beaten with +flails.”</p> + +<p>As soon as the fiends had gone away the moujik said to the +Fiddler:</p> + +<p>“If you get out of here, tell my children to dig up the money—one +pot is buried at the gate, and the other in the corn-kiln—and +to distribute it among the poor.”</p> + +<p>Afterwards there came a whole roomful of evil ones, and +they asked the rich moujik:</p> + +<p>“What have you got here that smells so Russian?”</p> + +<p>“You have been in Russia and brought away a Russian +smell with you,” replied the moujik.</p> + +<p>“How could that be?” they said. Then they began looking, +they found the Fiddler, and they shouted:</p> + +<p>“Ha, ha, ha! Here’s a Fiddler.”</p> + +<p>They pulled him off the stove, and set him to work fiddling. +He played three years, though it seemed to him only three +days. Then he got tired and said:</p> + +<p>“Here’s a wonder! After playing a whole evening I used +always to find all my fiddle-strings snapped. But now, though +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span> +I’ve been playing for three whole days, they are all sound. May +the Lord grant us his blessing!”<a name="FNanchor_394_394" id="FNanchor_394_394"></a><a href="#Footnote_394_394" class="fnanchor">[394]</a></p> + +<p>No sooner had he uttered these words than every one of the +strings snapped.</p> + +<p>“There now, brothers!” says the Fiddler, “you can see +for yourselves. The strings are snapped; I’ve nothing to +play on!”</p> + +<p>“Wait a bit!” said one of the fiends. “I’ve got two hanks +of catgut; I’ll fetch them for you.”</p> + +<p>He ran off and fetched them. The Fiddler took the strings, +screwed them up, and again uttered the words:</p> + +<p>“May the Lord grant us his blessing!”</p> + +<p>In a moment snap went both hanks.</p> + +<p>“No, brothers!” said the Fiddler, “your strings don’t suit +me. I’ve got some of my own at home; by your leave I’ll go +for them.”</p> + +<p>The fiends wouldn’t let him go. “You wouldn’t come back,” +they say.</p> + +<p>“Well, if you won’t trust me, send some one with me as an +escort.”</p> + +<p>The fiends chose one of their number, and sent him with the +Fiddler. The Fiddler got back to the village. There he could +hear that, in the farthest cottage, a wedding was being celebrated.</p> + +<p>“Let’s go to the wedding!” he cried.</p> + +<p>“Come along!” said the fiend.</p> + +<p>They entered the cottage. Everyone there recognized the +Fiddler and cried:</p> + +<p>“Where have you been hiding these three years?”</p> + +<p>“I have been in the other world!” he replied.</p> + +<p>They sat there and enjoyed themselves for some time. +Then the fiend beckoned to the Fiddler, saying, “It’s time to +be off!” But the Fiddler replied: “Wait a little longer! Let +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span> +me fiddle away a bit and cheer up the young people.” And so +they remained sitting there till the cocks began to crow. Then +the fiend disappeared.</p> + +<p>After that, the Fiddler began to talk to the sons of the rich +moujik, and said:</p> + +<p>“Your father bids you dig up the money—one potful is +buried at the gate and the other in the corn-kiln—and distribute +the whole of it among the poor.”</p> + +<p>Well, they dug up both the pots, and began to distribute +the money among the poor. But the more they gave away the +money, the more did it increase. Then they carried out the +pots to a crossway. Every one who passed by took out of +them as much money as his hand could grasp, and yet the +money wouldn’t come to an end. Then they presented a petition +to the Emperor, and he ordained as follows. There was a +certain town, the road to which was a very roundabout one. +It was some fifty versts long, whereas if it had been made in a +straight line it would not have been more than five. And so +the Emperor ordained that a bridge should be made the whole +way. Well, they built a bridge five versts long, and this piece +of work cleared out both the pots.</p> + +<p>About that time a certain maid bore a son and deserted him +in his infancy. The child neither ate nor drank for three years +and an angel of God always went about with him. Well, this +child came to the bridge, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Ah! what a glorious bridge! God grant the kingdom of +heaven to him at whose cost it was built!”</p> + +<p>The Lord heard this prayer, and ordered his angels to +release the rich moujik from the depths of hell.<a name="FNanchor_395_395" id="FNanchor_395_395"></a><a href="#Footnote_395_395" class="fnanchor">[395]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">With the bridge-building episode in this “legend” may +be compared the opening of another Russian story. In it +a merchant is described as having much money but no +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> +children. So he and his wife “began to pray to God, entreating +him to give them a child—for solace in their youth, +for support in their old age, for soul-remembrance<a name="FNanchor_396_396" id="FNanchor_396_396"></a><a href="#Footnote_396_396" class="fnanchor">[396]</a> after +death. And they took to feeding the poor and distributing +alms. Besides all this, they resolved to build, for the use +of all the faithful, a long bridge across swamps and where +no man could find a footing. Much wealth did the merchant +expend, but he built the bridge, and when the work +was completed he sent his manager Fedor, saying—</p> + +<p>“‘Go and sit under the bridge, and listen to what folks +say about me—whether they bless me or revile me.’</p> + +<p>“Fedor set off, sat under the bridge, and listened. +Presently three Holy Elders went over the bridge, and +said one to another—</p> + +<p>“‘How ought the man who built this bridge to be rewarded?’ +‘Let there be born to him a fortunate son. +Whatsoever that son says—it shall be done: whatsoever +he desires—that will the Lord bestow!’”<a name="FNanchor_397_397" id="FNanchor_397_397"></a><a href="#Footnote_397_397" class="fnanchor">[397]</a></p> + +<p>The rest of the story closely resembles the German +tale of “The Pink.”<a name="FNanchor_398_398" id="FNanchor_398_398"></a><a href="#Footnote_398_398" class="fnanchor">[398]</a> In the corresponding Bohemian +story of “The Treacherous Servant,”<a name="FNanchor_399_399" id="FNanchor_399_399"></a><a href="#Footnote_399_399" class="fnanchor">[399]</a> it may be observed, +the bridge-building incident has been preserved.</p> + +<p>But I will not dwell any longer on the story of the Fiddler, +as I propose to give some account in the <a href="#Page_329">next chapter</a> +of several other tales of the same class, in most of which +such descriptions of evil spirits are introduced as have +manifestly been altered into what their narrators considered +to be in accordance with Christian teaching. And +so I will revert to those ideas about the dead, and about +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> +their abiding-place, which the modern Slavonians seem to +have inherited from their heathen ancestors, and I will attempt +to illustrate them by a few Russian ghost-stories. +Those stories are, as a general rule, of a most ghastly nature, +but there are a few into the composition of which the +savage element does not enter. The “Dead Mother,” +which has already been quoted,<a name="FNanchor_400_400" id="FNanchor_400_400"></a><a href="#Footnote_400_400" class="fnanchor">[400]</a> belongs to the latter +class; and so does the following tale—which, as it bears +no title in the original, we may name,</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Ride on the Gravestone.</span><a name="FNanchor_401_401" id="FNanchor_401_401"></a><a href="#Footnote_401_401" class="fnanchor">[401]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>Late one evening a certain artisan happened to be returning +home from a jovial feast in a distant village. There met him +on the way an old friend, one who had been dead some ten +years.</p> + +<p>“Good health to you!” said the dead man.</p> + +<p>“I wish you good health!” replied the reveller, and straight +way forgot that his acquaintance had ever so long ago bidden +the world farewell.</p> + +<p>“Let’s go to my house. We’ll quaff a cup or two once +more.”</p> + +<p>“Come along. On such a happy occasion as this meeting +of ours, we may as well have a drink.”</p> + +<p>They arrived at a dwelling and there they drank and revelled.</p> + +<p>“Now then, good-bye! It’s time for me to go home,” said +the artisan.</p> + +<p>“Stay a bit. Where do you want to go now? Spend the night +here with me.”</p> + +<p>“No, brother! don’t ask me; it cannot be. I’ve business +to do to-morrow, so I must get home as early as possible.”</p> + +<p>“Well, good-bye! but why should you walk? Better get on +my horse; it will carry you home quickly.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks! let’s have it.”</p> + +<p>He got on its back, and was carried off—just as a whirlwind +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> +flies! All of a sudden a cock crew. It was awful! All around +were graves, and the rider found he had a gravestone under +him!</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Of a somewhat similar nature is the story of—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Two Friends.</span><a name="FNanchor_402_402" id="FNanchor_402_402"></a><a href="#Footnote_402_402" class="fnanchor">[402]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In the days of old there lived in a certain village two young +men. They were great friends, went to <i>besyedas</i><a name="FNanchor_403_403" id="FNanchor_403_403"></a><a href="#Footnote_403_403" class="fnanchor">[403]</a> together, in +fact, regarded each other as brothers. And they made this +mutual agreement. Whichever of the two should marry first +was to invite his comrade to his wedding. And it was not to +make any difference whether he was alive or dead.</p> + +<p>About a year after this one of the young men fell ill and +died. A few months later his comrade took it into his head to +get married. So he collected all his kinsmen, and set off to +fetch his bride. Now it happened that they drove past the +graveyard, and the bridegroom recalled his friend to mind, and +remembered his old agreement. So he had the horses stopped, +saying:</p> + +<p>“I’m going to my comrade’s grave. I shall ask him to come +and enjoy himself at my wedding. A right trusty friend was +he to me.”</p> + +<p>So he went to the grave and began to call aloud:</p> + +<p>“Comrade dear! I invite thee to my wedding.”</p> + +<p>Suddenly the grave yawned, the dead man arose, and said:</p> + +<p>“Thanks be to thee, brother, that thou hast fulfilled thy +promise. And now, that we may profit by this happy chance, +enter my abode. Let us quaff a glass apiece of grateful drink.”</p> + +<p>“I’d have gone, only the marriage procession is stopping +outside; all the folks are waiting for me.”</p> + +<p>“Eh, brother!” replied the dead man, “surely it won’t take +long to toss off a glass!”</p> + +<p>The bridegroom jumped into the grave. The dead man +poured him out a cup of liquor. He drank it off—and a hundred +years passed away.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> +“Quaff another cup, dear friend!” said the dead man.</p> + +<p>He drank a second cup—two hundred years passed away.</p> + +<p>“Now, comrade dear, quaff a third cup!” said the dead +man, “and then go, in God’s name, and celebrate thy marriage!”</p> + +<p>He drank the third cup—three hundred years passed away.</p> + +<p>The dead man took leave of his comrade. The coffin lid fell; +the grave closed.</p> + +<p>The bridegroom looked around. Where the graveyard had +been, was now a piece of waste ground. No road was to be +seen, no kinsmen, no horses. All around grew nettles and tall +grass.</p> + +<p>He ran to the village—but the village was not what it used +to be. The houses were different; the people were all strangers +to him. He went to the priest’s—but the priest was not the one +who used to be there—and told him about everything that had +happened. The priest searched through the church-books, and +found that, three hundred years before, this occurrence had +taken place: a bridegroom had gone to the graveyard on his +wedding-day, and had disappeared. And his bride, after some +time had passed by, had married another man.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[The “Rip van Winkle” story is too well known to require more than a passing +allusion. It was doubtless founded on one of the numerous folk-tales which correspond +to the Christian legend of “The Seven Sleepers of Ephesus”—itself an echo of +an older tale (see Baring Gould, “Curious Myths,” 1872, pp. 93-112, and Cox, +“Mythology of the Aryan Nations,” i. 413)—and to that of the monk who listens to +a bird singing in the convent garden, and remains entranced for the space of many +years: of which latter legend a Russian version occurs in Chudinsky’s collection +(No. 17, pp. 92-4). Very close indeed is the resemblance between the Russian story +of “The Two Friends,” and the Norse “Friends in Life and Death” (Asbjörnsen’s +New Series, No. 62, pp. 5-7). In the latter the bridegroom knocks hard and long on +his dead friend’s grave. At length its occupant appears, and accounts for his delay +by saying he had been far away when the first knocks came, and so had not heard +them. Then he follows the bridegroom to church and from church, and afterwards +the bridegroom sees him back to his tomb. On the way the living man expresses a +desire to see something of the world beyond the grave, and the corpse fulfils his wish, +having first placed on his head a sod cut in the graveyard. After witnessing many +strange sights, the bridegroom is told to sit down and wait till his guide returns. +When he rises to his feet, he is all overgrown with mosses and shrub (var han +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> +overvoxen med Mose og Busker), and when he reaches the outer world he finds all things +changed.]</p></div> + +<p>But from these dim sketches of a life beyond, or rather +within the grave, in which memories of old days and old +friendships are preserved by ghosts of an almost genial +and entirely harmless disposition, we will now turn to those +more elaborate pictures in which the dead are represented +under an altogether terrific aspect. It is not as an incorporeal +being that the visitor from the other world is represented +in the Skazkas. He comes not as a mere phantom, +intangible, impalpable, incapable of physical exertion, +haunting the dwelling which once was his home, or the +spot to which he is drawn by the memory of some unexpiated +crime. It is as a vitalized corpse that he comes to +trouble mankind, often subject to human appetites, constantly +endowed with more than human strength and malignity. +His apparel is generally that of the grave, and he +cannot endure to part with it, as may be seen from the following +story—</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Shroud.</span><a name="FNanchor_404_404" id="FNanchor_404_404"></a><a href="#Footnote_404_404" class="fnanchor">[404]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain village there was a girl who was lazy and slothful, +hated working but would gossip and chatter away like anything. +Well, she took it into her head to invite the other girls to a spinning +party. For in the villages, as every one knows, it is the +lazybones who gives the spinning-feast, and the sweet-toothed +are those who go to it.</p> + +<p>Well, on the appointed night she got her spinners together. +They span for her, and she fed them and feasted them. Among +other things they chatted about was this—which of them all was +the boldest?</p> + +<p>Says the lazybones (<i>lezhaka</i>):</p> + +<p>“I’m not afraid of anything!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> +“Well then,” say the spinners, “if you’re not afraid, go +past the graveyard to the church, take down the holy picture +from the door, and bring it here.”</p> + +<p>“Good, I’ll bring it; only each of you must spin me a distaff-ful.”</p> + +<p>That was just her sort of notion: to do nothing herself, but +to get others to do it for her. Well, she went, took down the +picture, and brought it home with her. Her friends all saw that +sure enough it was the picture from the church. But the picture +had to be taken back again, and it was now the midnight hour. +Who was to take it? At length the lazybones said:</p> + +<p>“You girls go on spinning. I’ll take it back myself. I’m +not afraid of anything!”</p> + +<p>So she went and put the picture back in its place. As she +was passing the graveyard on her return, she saw a corpse in a +white shroud, seated on a tomb. It was a moonlight night; +everything was visible. She went up to the corpse, and drew +away its shroud from it. The corpse held its peace, not uttering +a word; no doubt the time for it to speak had not come yet. +Well, she took the shroud and went home.</p> + +<p>“There!” says she, “I’ve taken back the picture and put +it in its place; and, what’s more, here’s a shroud I took away +from a corpse.”</p> + +<p>Some of the girls were horrified; others didn’t believe what +she said, and laughed at her.</p> + +<p>But after they had supped and lain down to sleep, all of a +sudden the corpse tapped at the window and said:</p> + +<p>“Give me my shroud! Give me my shroud!”</p> + +<p>The girls were so frightened they didn’t know whether they +were alive or dead. But the lazybones took the shroud, went to +the window, opened it, and said:</p> + +<p>“There, take it.”</p> + +<p>“No,” replied the corpse, “restore it to the place you took +it from.”</p> + +<p>Just then the cocks suddenly began to crow. The corpse +disappeared.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> +Next night, when the spinners had all gone home to their +own houses, at the very same hour as before, the corpse came, +tapped at the window, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Give me my shroud!”</p> + +<p>Well, the girl’s father and mother opened the window and +offered him his shroud.</p> + +<p>“No,” says he, “let her take it back to the place she took +it from.”</p> + +<p>“Really now, how could one go to a graveyard with a corpse? +What a horrible idea!” she replied.</p> + +<p>Just then the cocks crew. The corpse disappeared.</p> + +<p>Next day the girl’s father and mother sent for the priest, +told him the whole story, and entreated him to help them in their +trouble.</p> + +<p>“Couldn’t a service<a name="FNanchor_405_405" id="FNanchor_405_405"></a><a href="#Footnote_405_405" class="fnanchor">[405]</a> be performed?” they said.</p> + +<p>The priest reflected awhile; then he replied:</p> + +<p>“Please to tell her to come to church to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>Next day the lazybones went to church. The service began, +numbers of people came to it. But just as they were going +to sing the cherubim song,<a name="FNanchor_406_406" id="FNanchor_406_406"></a><a href="#Footnote_406_406" class="fnanchor">[406]</a> there suddenly arose, goodness +knows whence, so terrible a whirlwind that all the congregation +fell flat on their faces. And it caught up that girl, and then flung +her down on the ground. The girl disappeared from sight; +nothing was left of her but her back hair.<a name="FNanchor_407_407" id="FNanchor_407_407"></a><a href="#Footnote_407_407" class="fnanchor">[407]</a></p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">They are generally the corpses of wizards, or of other +sinners who have led specially unholy lives, which leave +their graves by night and wander abroad. Into such bodies, +it is held, demons enter, and the combination of fiend and +corpse goes forth as the terrible Vampire thirsting for +blood. Of the proceedings of such a being the next story +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> +gives a detailed account, from which, among other things, +may be learnt the fact that Slavonic corpses attach great +importance to their coffin-lids as well as to their shrouds.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Coffin-Lid.</span><a name="FNanchor_408_408" id="FNanchor_408_408"></a><a href="#Footnote_408_408" class="fnanchor">[408]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A moujik was driving along one night with a load of pots. His +horse grew tired, and all of a sudden it came to a standstill +alongside of a graveyard. The moujik unharnessed his horse +and set it free to graze; meanwhile he laid himself down on +one of the graves. But somehow he didn’t go to sleep.</p> + +<p>He remained lying there some time. Suddenly the grave +began to open beneath him: he felt the movement and sprang +to his feet. The grave opened, and out of it came a corpse—wrapped +in a white shroud, and holding a coffin lid—came out +and ran to the church, laid the coffin-lid at the door, and then +set off for the village.</p> + +<p>The moujik was a daring fellow. He picked up the coffin-lid +and remained standing beside his cart, waiting to see what would +happen. After a short delay the dead man came back, and was +going to snatch up his coffin-lid—but it was not to be seen. +Then the corpse began to track it out, traced it up to the moujik, +and said:</p> + +<p>“Give me my lid: if you don’t, I’ll tear you to bits!”</p> + +<p>“And my hatchet, how about that?” answers the moujik. +“Why, it’s I who’ll be chopping you into small pieces!”</p> + +<p>“Do give it back to me, good man!” begs the corpse.</p> + +<p>“I’ll give it when you tell me where you’ve been and what +you’ve done.”</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ve been in the village, and there I’ve killed a couple +of youngsters.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, now tell me how they can be brought back to +life.”</p> + +<p>The corpse reluctantly made answer:</p> + +<p>“Cut off the left skirt of my shroud, and take it with you. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> +When you come into the house where the youngsters were killed, +pour some live coals into a pot and put the piece of the +shroud in with them, and then lock the door. The lads will be +revived by the smoke immediately.”</p> + +<p>The moujik cut off the left skirt of the shroud, and gave up +the coffin-lid. The corpse went to its grave—the grave opened. +But just as the dead man was descending into it, all of a sudden +the cocks began to crow, and he hadn’t time to get properly +covered over. One end of the coffin-lid remained sticking out +of the ground.</p> + +<p>The moujik saw all this and made a note of it. The day +began to dawn; he harnessed his horse and drove into the village. +In one of the houses he heard cries and wailing. In he +went—there lay two dead lads.</p> + +<p>“Don’t cry,” says he, “I can bring them to life!”</p> + +<p>“Do bring them to life, kinsman,” say their relatives. +“We’ll give you half of all we possess.”</p> + +<p>The moujik did everything as the corpse had instructed him, +and the lads came back to life. Their relatives were delighted, +but they immediately seized the moujik and bound him with +cords, saying:</p> + +<p>“No, no, trickster! We’ll hand you over to the authorities. +Since you knew how to bring them back to life, maybe it was +you who killed them!”</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking about, true believers! Have the +fear of God before your eyes!” cried the moujik.</p> + +<p>Then he told them everything that had happened to him +during the night. Well, they spread the news through the +village; the whole population assembled and swarmed into the +graveyard. They found out the grave from which the dead man +had come out, they tore it open, and they drove an aspen stake +right into the heart of the corpse, so that it might no more rise +up and slay. But they rewarded the moujik richly, and sent him +away home with great honor.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">It is not only during sleep that the Vampire is to be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> +dreaded. At cross-roads, or in the neighborhood of +cemeteries, an animated corpse of this description often +lurks, watching for some unwary wayfarer whom it may be +able to slay and eat. Past such dangerous spots as these +the belated villager will speed with timorous steps, remembering, +perhaps, some such uncanny tale as that which +comes next.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Two Corpses.</span><a name="FNanchor_409_409" id="FNanchor_409_409"></a><a href="#Footnote_409_409" class="fnanchor">[409]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A soldier had obtained leave to go home on furlough—to pray +to the holy images, and to bow down before his parents. And +as he was going his way, at a time when the sun had long set, +and all was dark around, it chanced that he had to pass by a +graveyard. Just then he heard that some one was running after +him, and crying:</p> + +<p>“Stop! you can’t escape!”</p> + +<p>He looked back and there was a corpse running and gnashing +its teeth. The Soldier sprang on one side with all his +might to get away from it, caught sight of a little chapel,<a name="FNanchor_410_410" id="FNanchor_410_410"></a><a href="#Footnote_410_410" class="fnanchor">[410]</a> and +bolted straight into it.</p> + +<p>There wasn’t a soul in the chapel, but stretched out on a +table there lay another corpse, with tapers burning in front of +it. The Soldier hid himself in a corner, and remained there, +hardly knowing whether he was alive or dead, but waiting to see +what would happen. Presently up ran the first corpse—the one +that had chased the Soldier—and dashed into the chapel. Thereupon +the one that was lying on the table jumped up, and cried +to it:</p> + +<p>“What hast thou come here for?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve chased a soldier in here, so I’m going to eat him.”</p> + +<p>“Come now, brother! he’s run into my house. I shall eat +him myself.”</p> + +<p>“No, I shall!”</p> + +<p>“No, I shall!”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> +And they set to work fighting; the dust flew like anything. +They’d have gone on fighting ever so much longer, only the +cocks began to crow. Then both the corpses fell lifeless to +the ground, and the Soldier went on his way homeward in peace, +saying:</p> + +<p>“Glory be to Thee, O Lord! I am saved from the wizards!”</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">Even the possession of arms and the presence of a +dog will not always, it seems, render a man secure from +this terrible species of cut-throat.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Dog and the Corpse.</span><a name="FNanchor_411_411" id="FNanchor_411_411"></a><a href="#Footnote_411_411" class="fnanchor">[411]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A moujik went out in pursuit of game one day, and took a +favorite dog with him. He walked and walked through woods +and bogs, but got nothing for his pains. At last the darkness of +night surprised him. At an uncanny hour he passed by a graveyard, +and there, at a place where two roads met, he saw standing +a corpse in a white shroud. The moujik was horrified, and knew +not which way to go—whether to keep on or to turn back.</p> + +<p>“Well, whatever happens, I’ll go on,” he thought; and on he +went, his dog running at his heels. When the corpse perceived +him, it came to meet him; not touching the earth with its feet, +but keeping about a foot above it—the shroud fluttering after it. +When it had come up with the sportsman, it made a rush at him; +but the dog seized hold of it by its bare calves, and began a tussle +with it. When the moujik saw his dog and the corpse grappling +with each other, he was delighted that things had turned out so +well for himself, and he set off running home with all his might. +The dog kept up the struggle until cock-crow, when the corpse +fell motionless to the ground. Then the dog ran off in pursuit of +its master, caught him up just as he reached home, and rushed at +him, furiously trying to bite and to rend him. So savage was it, +and so persistent, that it was as much as the people of the house +could do to beat it off.</p> + +<p>“Whatever has come over the dog?” asked the moujik’s +old mother. “Why should it hate its master so?”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span> +The moujik told her all that had happened.</p> + +<p>“A bad piece of work, my son!” said the old woman. “The +dog was disgusted at your not helping it. There it was fighting +with the corpse—and you deserted it, and thought only of saving +yourself! Now it will owe you a grudge for ever so long.”</p> + +<p>Next morning, while the family were going about the farmyard, +the dog was perfectly quiet. But the moment its master +made his appearance, it began to growl like anything.</p> + +<p>They fastened it to a chain; for a whole year they kept it +chained up. But in spite of that, it never forgot how its master +had offended it. One day it got loose, flew straight at him, and +began trying to throttle him.</p> + +<p>So they had to kill it.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">In the next story a most detailed account is given of +the manner in which a Vampire sets to work, and also of +the best means of ridding the world of it.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Soldier and the Vampire.</span><a name="FNanchor_412_412" id="FNanchor_412_412"></a><a href="#Footnote_412_412" class="fnanchor">[412]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A certain soldier was allowed to go home on furlough. +Well, he walked and walked, and after a time he began to draw +near to his native village. Not far off from that village lived a +miller in his mill. In old times the Soldier had been very +intimate with him: why shouldn’t he go and see his friend? He +went. The Miller received him cordially, and at once brought +out liquor; and the two began drinking, and chattering about +their ways and doings. All this took place towards nightfall, and +the Soldier stopped so long at the Miller’s that it grew quite +dark.</p> + +<p>When he proposed to start for his village, his host exclaimed:</p> + +<p>“Spend the night here, trooper! It’s very late now, and perhaps +you might run into mischief.”</p> + +<p>“How so?”</p> + +<p>“God is punishing us! A terrible warlock has died among +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> +us, and by night he rises from his grave, wanders through the +village, and does such things as bring fear upon the very boldest! +How could even you help being afraid of him?”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it! A soldier is a man who belongs to the +crown, and ‘crown property cannot be drowned in water nor +burnt in fire.’ I’ll be off: I’m tremendously anxious to see my +people as soon as possible.”</p> + +<p>Off he set. His road lay in front of a graveyard. On one +of the graves he saw a great fire blazing. “What’s that?” +thinks he. “Let’s have a look.” When he drew near, he saw +that the Warlock was sitting by the fire, sewing boots.</p> + +<p>“Hail, brother!” calls out the Soldier.</p> + +<p>The Warlock looked up and said:</p> + +<p>“What have you come here for?”</p> + +<p>“Why, I wanted to see what you’re doing.”</p> + +<p>The Warlock threw his work aside and invited the Soldier to +a wedding.</p> + +<p>“Come along, brother,” says he, “let’s enjoy ourselves. +There’s a wedding going on in the village.”</p> + +<p>“Come along!” says the Soldier.</p> + +<p>They came to where the wedding was; there they were +given drink, and treated with the utmost hospitality. The Warlock +drank and drank, revelled and revelled, and then grew +angry. He chased all the guests and relatives out of the house, +threw the wedded pair into a slumber, took out two phials and +an awl, pierced the hands of the bride and bridegroom with the +awl, and began drawing off their blood. Having done this, he +said to the Soldier:</p> + +<p>“Now let’s be off.”</p> + +<p>Well, they went off. On the way the Soldier said:</p> + +<p>“Tell me; why did you draw off their blood in those phials?”</p> + +<p>“Why, in order that the bride and bridegroom might die. +To-morrow morning no one will be able to wake them. I alone +know how to bring them back to life.”</p> + +<p>“How’s that managed?”</p> + +<p>“The bride and bridegroom must have cuts made in their +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> +heels, and some of their own blood must then be poured back +into those wounds. I’ve got the bridegroom’s blood stowed +away in my right-hand pocket, and the bride’s in my left.”</p> + +<p>The Soldier listened to this without letting a single word +escape him. Then the Warlock began boasting again.</p> + +<p>“Whatever I wish,” says he, “that I can do!”</p> + +<p>“I suppose it’s quite impossible to get the better of you?” +says the Soldier.</p> + +<p>“Why impossible? If any one were to make a pyre of aspen +boughs, a hundred loads of them, and were to burn me on that +pyre, then he’d be able to get the better of me. Only he’d +have to look out sharp in burning me; for snakes and worms +and different kinds of reptiles would creep out of my inside, and +crows and magpies and jackdaws would come flying up. All +these must be caught and flung on the pyre. If so much as a +single maggot were to escape, then there’d be no help for it; in +that maggot I should slip away!”</p> + +<p>The Soldier listened to all this and did not forget it. He and +the Warlock talked and talked, and at last they arrived at the +grave.</p> + +<p>“Well, brother,” said the Warlock, “now I’ll tear you to +pieces. Otherwise you’d be telling all this.”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about? Don’t you deceive yourself; +I serve God and the Emperor.”</p> + +<p>The Warlock gnashed his teeth, howled aloud, and sprang +at the Soldier—who drew his sword and began laying about him +with sweeping blows. They struggled and struggled; the Soldier +was all but at the end of his strength. “Ah!” thinks he, +“I’m a lost man—and all for nothing!” Suddenly the cocks +began to crow. The Warlock fell lifeless to the ground.</p> + +<p>The Soldier took the phials of blood out of the Warlock’s +pockets, and went on to the house of his own people. When he +had got there, and had exchanged greetings with his relatives, +they said:</p> + +<p>“Did you see any disturbance, Soldier?”</p> + +<p>“No, I saw none.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> +“There now! Why we’ve a terrible piece of work going +on in the village. A Warlock has taken to haunting it!”</p> + +<p>After talking awhile, they lay down to sleep. Next morning +the Soldier awoke, and began asking:</p> + +<p>“I’m told you’ve got a wedding going on somewhere here?”</p> + +<p>“There was a wedding in the house of a rich moujik,” +replied his relatives, “but the bride and bridegroom have died +this very night—what from, nobody knows.”</p> + +<p>“Where does this moujik live?”</p> + +<p>They showed him the house. Thither he went without +speaking a word. When he got there, he found the whole +family in tears.</p> + +<p>“What are you mourning about?” says he.</p> + +<p>“Such and such is the state of things, Soldier,” say they.</p> + +<p>“I can bring your young people to life again. What will +you give me if I do?”</p> + +<p>“Take what you like, even were it half of what we’ve got!”</p> + +<p>The Soldier did as the Warlock had instructed him, and +brought the young people back to life. Instead of weeping +there began to be happiness and rejoicing; the Soldier was +hospitably treated and well rewarded. Then—left about, face! +off he marched to the Starosta, and told him to call the peasants +together and to get ready a hundred loads of aspen wood. +Well, they took the wood into the graveyard, dragged the Warlock +out of his grave, placed him on the pyre, and set it alight—the +people all standing round in a circle with brooms, shovels, +and fire-irons. The pyre became wrapped <ins class="correction" title="omitted from original">in</ins> flames, the Warlock +began to burn. His corpse burst, and out of it crept snakes, +worms, and all sorts of reptiles, and up came flying crows, magpies, +and jackdaws. The peasants knocked them down and +flung them into the fire, not allowing so much as a single maggot +to creep away! And so the Warlock was thoroughly consumed, +and the Soldier collected his ashes and strewed them +to the winds. From that time forth there was peace in the +village.</p> + +<p>The Soldier received the thanks of the whole community. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> +He stayed at home some time, enjoying himself thoroughly. +Then he went back to the Tsar’s service with money in his +pocket. When he had served his time, he retired from the +army, and began to live at his ease.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">The stories of this class are very numerous, all of them +based on the same belief—that in certain cases the dead, +in a material shape, leave their graves in order to destroy and +prey upon the living. This belief is not peculiar to the Slavonians +but it is one of the characteristic features of their spiritual +creed. Among races which burn their dead, remarks +Hertz in his exhaustive treatise on the Werwolf (p. 126), little +is known of regular “corpse-spectres.” Only vague apparitions, +dream-like phantoms, are supposed, as a general +rule, to issue from graves in which nothing more substantial +than ashes has been laid.<a name="FNanchor_413_413" id="FNanchor_413_413"></a><a href="#Footnote_413_413" class="fnanchor">[413]</a> But where it is customary to +lay the dead body in the ground, “a peculiar half-life” becomes +attributed to it by popular fancy, and by some races +it is supposed to be actuated at intervals by murderous impulses. +In the East these are generally attributed to the +fact of its being possessed by an evil spirit, but in some +parts of Europe no such explanation of its conduct is given, +though it may often be implied. “The belief in vampires +is the specific Slavonian form of the universal belief in +spectres (<i>Gespenster</i>),” says Hertz, and certainly vampirism +has always made those lands peculiarly its own which +are or have been tenanted or greatly influenced by Slavonians.</p> + +<p>But animated corpses often play an important part in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> +the traditions of other countries. Among the Scandinavians +and especially in Iceland, were they the cause of many fears, +though they were not supposed to be impelled by a thirst +for blood so much as by other carnal appetites,<a name="FNanchor_414_414" id="FNanchor_414_414"></a><a href="#Footnote_414_414" class="fnanchor">[414]</a> or by a +kind of local malignity.<a name="FNanchor_415_415" id="FNanchor_415_415"></a><a href="#Footnote_415_415" class="fnanchor">[415]</a> In Germany tales of horror +similar to the Icelandic are by no means unknown, but the +majority of them are to be found in districts which were +once wholly Lettic or Slavonic, though they are now +reckoned as Teutonic, such as East Prussia, or Pomerania, +or Lusatia. But it is among the races which are Slavonic +by tongue as well as by descent, that the genuine vampire +tales flourish most luxuriantly: in Russia, in Poland, and +in Servia—among the Czekhs of Bohemia, and the Slovaks +of Hungary, and the numerous other subdivisions of the +Slavonic family which are included within the heterogeneous +empire of Austria. Among the Albanians and Modern +Greeks they have taken firm root, but on those peoples a +strong Slavonic influence has been brought to bear. Even +Prof. Bernhard Schmidt, although an uncompromising opponent +of Fallmerayer’s doctrines with regard to the Slavonic +origin of the present inhabitants of Greece, allows +that the Greeks, as they borrowed from the Slavonians a +name for the Vampire, may have received from them also +certain views and customs with respect to it.<a name="FNanchor_416_416" id="FNanchor_416_416"></a><a href="#Footnote_416_416" class="fnanchor">[416]</a> Beyond +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> +this he will not go, and he quotes a number of passages +from Hellenic writers to prove that in ancient Greece +spectres were frequently represented as delighting in blood, +and sometimes as exercising a power to destroy. Nor will +he admit that any very great stress ought to be laid upon +the fact that the Vampire is generally called in Greece by +a name of Slavonic extraction; for in the islands, which +were, he says, little if at all affected by Slavonic influences, +the Vampire bears a thoroughly Hellenic designation.<a name="FNanchor_417_417" id="FNanchor_417_417"></a><a href="#Footnote_417_417" class="fnanchor">[417]</a> +But the thirst for blood attributed by Homer to his shadowy +ghosts seems to have been of a different nature from that +evinced by the material Vampire of modern days, nor does +that ghastly <i>revenant</i> seem by any means fully to correspond +to such ghostly destroyers as the spirit of Gello, or the +spectres of Medea’s slaughtered children. It is not only +in the Vampire, however, that we find a point of close contact +between the popular beliefs of the New-Greeks and +the Slavonians. Prof. Bernhard Schmidt’s excellent work +is full of examples which prove how intimately they are +connected.</p> + +<p>The districts of the Russian Empire in which a belief +in vampires mostly prevails are White Russia and the +Ukraine. But the ghastly blood-sucker, the <i>Upir</i>,<a name="FNanchor_418_418" id="FNanchor_418_418"></a><a href="#Footnote_418_418" class="fnanchor">[418]</a> whose +name has become naturalized in so many alien lands under +forms resembling our “Vampire,” disturbs the peasant-mind +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> +in many other parts of Russia, though not perhaps +with the same intense fear which it spreads among the inhabitants +of the above-named districts, or of some other +Slavonic lands. The numerous traditions which have +gathered around the original idea vary to some extent +according to their locality, but they are never radically inconsistent.</p> + +<p>Some of the details are curious. The Little-Russians +hold that if a vampire’s hands have grown numb from remaining +long crossed in the grave, he makes use of his +teeth, which are like steel. When he has gnawed his way +with these through all obstacles, he first destroys the babes +he finds in a house, and then the older inmates. If fine +salt be scattered on the floor of a room, the vampire’s footsteps +may be traced to his grave, in which he will be found +resting with rosy cheek and gory mouth.</p> + +<p>The Kashoubes say that when a <i>Vieszcy</i>, as they call +the Vampire, wakes from his sleep within the grave, he +begins to gnaw his hands and feet; and as he gnaws, one +after another, first his relations, then his other neighbors, +sicken and die. When he has finished his own store of +flesh, he rises at midnight and destroys cattle, or climbs a +belfry and sounds the bell. All who hear the ill-omened +tones will soon die. But generally he sucks the blood of +sleepers. Those on whom he has operated will be found +next morning dead, with a very small wound on the left +side of the breast, exactly over the heart. The Lusatian +Wends hold that when a corpse chews its shroud or sucks +its own breast, all its kin will soon follow it to the grave. +The Wallachians say that a <i>murony</i>—a sort of cross between +a werwolf and a vampire, connected by name with +our nightmare—can take the form of a dog, a cat, or a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> +toad, and also of any blood-sucking insect. When he is +exhumed, he is found to have long nails of recent growth +on his hands and feet, and blood is streaming from his +eyes, ears, nose and mouth.</p> + +<p>The Russian stories give a very clear account of the +operation performed by the vampire on his victims. Thus, +one night, a peasant is conducted by a stranger into a +house where lie two sleepers, an old man and a youth. +“The stranger takes a pail, places it near the youth, and +strikes him on the back; immediately the back opens, and +forth flows rosy blood. The stranger fills the pail full, and +drinks it dry. Then he fills another pail with blood from +the old man, slakes his brutal thirst, and says to the peasant, +‘It begins to grow light! let us go back to my dwelling.’”<a name="FNanchor_419_419" id="FNanchor_419_419"></a><a href="#Footnote_419_419" class="fnanchor">[419]</a></p> + +<p>Many skazkas also contain, as we have already seen, +very clear directions how to deprive a vampire of his baleful +power. According to them, as well as to their parallels +elsewhere, a stake must be driven through the murderous +corpse. In Russia an aspen stake is selected for that purpose, +but in some places one made of thorn is preferred. +But a Bohemian vampire, when staked in this manner in +the year 1337, says Mannhardt,<a name="FNanchor_420_420" id="FNanchor_420_420"></a><a href="#Footnote_420_420" class="fnanchor">[420]</a> merely exclaimed that +the stick would be very useful for keeping off dogs; and a +<i>strigon</i> (or Istrian vampire) who was transfixed with a +sharp thorn cudgel near Laibach, in 1672, pulled it out of +his body and flung it back contemptuously. The only certain +methods of destroying a vampire appear to be either +to consume him by fire, or to chop off his head with a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> +grave-digger’s shovel. The Wends say that if a vampire +is hit over the back of the head with an implement of that +kind, he will squeal like a pig.</p> + +<p>The origin of the Vampire is hidden in obscurity. In +modern times it has generally been a wizard, or a witch, +or a suicide,<a name="FNanchor_421_421" id="FNanchor_421_421"></a><a href="#Footnote_421_421" class="fnanchor">[421]</a> or a person who has come to a violent end, +or who has been cursed by the Church or by his parents, +who takes such an unpleasant means of recalling himself +to the memory of his surviving relatives and acquaintances. +But even the most honorable dead may become vampires +by accident. He whom a vampire has slain is supposed, +in some countries, himself to become a vampire. The +leaping of a cat or some other animal across a corpse, +even the flight of a bird above it, may turn the innocent +defunct into a ravenous demon.<a name="FNanchor_422_422" id="FNanchor_422_422"></a><a href="#Footnote_422_422" class="fnanchor">[422]</a> Sometimes, moreover, a +man is destined from his birth to be a vampire, being the +offspring of some unholy union. In some instances the +Evil One himself is the father of such a doomed victim, in +others a temporarily animated corpse. But whatever may +be the cause of a corpse’s “vampirism,” it is generally +agreed that it will give its neighbors no rest until they have +at least transfixed it. What is very remarkable about the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> +operation is, that the stake must be driven through the +vampire’s body by a single blow. A second would restore +it to life. This idea accounts for the otherwise unexplained +fact that the heroes of folk-tales are frequently warned that +they must on no account be tempted into striking their +magic foes more than one stroke. Whatever voices may +cry aloud “Strike again!” they must remain contented +with a single blow.<a name="FNanchor_423_423" id="FNanchor_423_423"></a><a href="#Footnote_423_423" class="fnanchor">[423]</a></p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_379_379" id="Footnote_379_379"></a><a href="#FNanchor_379_379"><span class="label">[379]</span></a> Some account of Russian funeral rites and beliefs, and of the dirges which are +sung at buryings and memorials of the dead, will be found in the “Songs of the Russian +People,” pp. 309-344.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_380_380" id="Footnote_380_380"></a><a href="#FNanchor_380_380"><span class="label">[380]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. No. 7. From the Archangel Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_381_381" id="Footnote_381_381"></a><a href="#FNanchor_381_381"><span class="label">[381]</span></a> <i>Zhornovtsui</i>, <i>i.e.</i> mill-stones, or a hand-mill.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_382_382" id="Footnote_382_382"></a><a href="#FNanchor_382_382"><span class="label">[382]</span></a> Pp. 341-349 of the first edition. See, also, for some other versions of the story, +as well as for an attempt to explain it, A. de Gubernatis, “Zoological Mythology,” i. +243, 244.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_383_383" id="Footnote_383_383"></a><a href="#FNanchor_383_383"><span class="label">[383]</span></a> See <i>supra</i>, chap. I. p. <a href="#Page_36">36</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_384_384" id="Footnote_384_384"></a><a href="#FNanchor_384_384"><span class="label">[384]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. No. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_385_385" id="Footnote_385_385"></a><a href="#FNanchor_385_385"><span class="label">[385]</span></a> Ibid., iv. No. 7. p. 34.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_386_386" id="Footnote_386_386"></a><a href="#FNanchor_386_386"><span class="label">[386]</span></a> <i>Prigovarivat’</i> = to say or sing while using certain (usually menacing) gestures.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_387_387" id="Footnote_387_387"></a><a href="#FNanchor_387_387"><span class="label">[387]</span></a> Afanasief, iv. p. 35.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_388_388" id="Footnote_388_388"></a><a href="#FNanchor_388_388"><span class="label">[388]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. No. 2.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_389_389" id="Footnote_389_389"></a><a href="#FNanchor_389_389"><span class="label">[389]</span></a> Afanasief, “Legendui,” No. 33.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_390_390" id="Footnote_390_390"></a><a href="#FNanchor_390_390"><span class="label">[390]</span></a> Chudinsky, No. 9.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_391_391" id="Footnote_391_391"></a><a href="#FNanchor_391_391"><span class="label">[391]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 47. From the Tver Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_392_392" id="Footnote_392_392"></a><a href="#FNanchor_392_392"><span class="label">[392]</span></a> “You have fallen here” <i>neladno</i>. <i>Ladno</i> means “well,” “propitiously,” &c., +also “in tune.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_393_393" id="Footnote_393_393"></a><a href="#FNanchor_393_393"><span class="label">[393]</span></a> <i>Nenashi</i> = not ours.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_394_394" id="Footnote_394_394"></a><a href="#FNanchor_394_394"><span class="label">[394]</span></a> <i>Gospodi blagoslovi!</i> exactly our “God bless us;” with us now merely an expression +of surprise.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_395_395" id="Footnote_395_395"></a><a href="#FNanchor_395_395"><span class="label">[395]</span></a> <i>Iz adu kromyeshnago</i> = from the last hell. <i>Kromyeshnaya t’ma</i> = utter +darkness. <i>Kromyeshny</i>, or <i>kromyeshnaya</i>, is sometimes used by itself to signify +hell.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_396_396" id="Footnote_396_396"></a><a href="#FNanchor_396_396"><span class="label">[396]</span></a> <i>Ha pomin dushi.</i> <i>Pomin</i> = “remembrance,” also “prayers for the dead.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_397_397" id="Footnote_397_397"></a><a href="#FNanchor_397_397"><span class="label">[397]</span></a> Afanasief, vii. No. 20. In some variants of this story, instead of the three +holy elders appear the Saviour, St. Nicholas, and St. Mitrofan.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_398_398" id="Footnote_398_398"></a><a href="#FNanchor_398_398"><span class="label">[398]</span></a> “Die Nelke,” Grimm, <i>KM.</i>, No. 76, and vol. iii. pp. 125-6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_399_399" id="Footnote_399_399"></a><a href="#FNanchor_399_399"><span class="label">[399]</span></a> Wenzig, No. 17, pp. 82-6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_400_400" id="Footnote_400_400"></a><a href="#FNanchor_400_400"><span class="label">[400]</span></a> See Chap. I. p. <a href="#Page_32">32</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_401_401" id="Footnote_401_401"></a><a href="#FNanchor_401_401"><span class="label">[401]</span></a> Afanasief, v. p. 144.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_402_402" id="Footnote_402_402"></a><a href="#FNanchor_402_402"><span class="label">[402]</span></a> Afanasief, vi, p. 322, 323.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_403_403" id="Footnote_403_403"></a><a href="#FNanchor_403_403"><span class="label">[403]</span></a> Evening gatherings of young people.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_404_404" id="Footnote_404_404"></a><a href="#FNanchor_404_404"><span class="label">[404]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 30 <i>a</i>, pp. 140-2. From the Voroneje Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_405_405" id="Footnote_405_405"></a><a href="#FNanchor_405_405"><span class="label">[405]</span></a> <i>Obyednya</i>, the service answering to the Latin mass.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_406_406" id="Footnote_406_406"></a><a href="#FNanchor_406_406"><span class="label">[406]</span></a> At the end of the <i>obyednya</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_407_407" id="Footnote_407_407"></a><a href="#FNanchor_407_407"><span class="label">[407]</span></a> The <i>kosa</i> or single braid in which Russian girls wear their hair. See “Songs +of the Russian People,” pp. 272-5. On a story of this kind <ins class="correction" title="Geöthe in original">Goethe</ins> founded his weird +ballad of “Der Todtentanz.” Cf. Bertram’s “Sagen,” No. 18.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_408_408" id="Footnote_408_408"></a><a href="#FNanchor_408_408"><span class="label">[408]</span></a> Afanasief, v. pp. 142-4. From the Tambof Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_409_409" id="Footnote_409_409"></a><a href="#FNanchor_409_409"><span class="label">[409]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. pp. 324, 325.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_410_410" id="Footnote_410_410"></a><a href="#FNanchor_410_410"><span class="label">[410]</span></a> <i>Chasovenka</i>, a small chapel, shrine, or oratory.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_411_411" id="Footnote_411_411"></a><a href="#FNanchor_411_411"><span class="label">[411]</span></a> Afanasief, vi. pp 321, 322.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_412_412" id="Footnote_412_412"></a><a href="#FNanchor_412_412"><span class="label">[412]</span></a> Afanasief, v. pp. 144-7. From the Tambof Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_413_413" id="Footnote_413_413"></a><a href="#FNanchor_413_413"><span class="label">[413]</span></a> On this account Hanush believes that the Old Slavonians, as burners of their +dead, must have borrowed the vampire belief from some other race. See the +“Zeitschrift für deutsche Mythologie,” &c., vol. iv. p. 199. But it is not certain that +burial by cremation was universally practised by the heathen Slavonians. Kotlyarevsky, +in his excellent work on their funeral customs, arrives at the conclusion that +there never was any general rule on the subject, but that some Slavonians buried +without burning, while others first burned their dead, and then inhumed their ashes. +See “Songs of the Russian People,” p. 325.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_414_414" id="Footnote_414_414"></a><a href="#FNanchor_414_414"><span class="label">[414]</span></a> See the strange stories in Maurer’s “Isländische Volkssagen,” pp. 112, and +300, 301.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_415_415" id="Footnote_415_415"></a><a href="#FNanchor_415_415"><span class="label">[415]</span></a> As in the case of Glam, the terrible spectre which Grettir had so much difficulty +in overcoming. To all who appreciate a shudder may be recommended chap. xxxv. +of “The Story of Grettir the Strong,” translated from the Icelandic by E. Magnússon +and W. Morris, 1869.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_416_416" id="Footnote_416_416"></a><a href="#FNanchor_416_416"><span class="label">[416]</span></a> The ordinary Modern-Greek word for a vampire, +<ins class="greek" title="vourkolakas">βουρκόλακας</ins>, he says, “is +undoubtedly of Slavonic origin, being identical with the Slavonic name of the werwolf, +which is called in Bohemian <i>vlkodlak</i>, in Bulgarian and Slovak, <i>vrkolak</i>, &c.,” the +vampire and the werwolf having many points in common. Moreover, the Regular +name for a vampire in Servian, he remarks, is <i>vukodlak</i>. This proves the Slavonian +nature (<i>die Slavicität</i>) of the name beyond all doubt.—“Volksleben der Neugriechen,” +1871, p. 159.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_417_417" id="Footnote_417_417"></a><a href="#FNanchor_417_417"><span class="label">[417]</span></a> In Crete and Rhodes, +<ins class="greek" title="katachanas">καταχανᾶς</ins>; in Cyprus, +<ins class="greek" title="sarkômenos">σαρκωμένος</ins>; in Tenos, +<ins class="greek" title="anaikathoumenos">ἀναικαθούμενος</ins>. +The Turks, according to Mr. Tozer, give the name of <i>vurkolak</i>, and +some of the Albanians, says Hahn, give that of <ins class="greek" title="vourvolak-ou">βουρβολάκ-ου</ins> to the restless dead. +Ibid, p. 160.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_418_418" id="Footnote_418_418"></a><a href="#FNanchor_418_418"><span class="label">[418]</span></a> Russian <i>vampir</i>, South-Russian <i>upuir</i>, anciently <i>upir</i>; Polish <i>upior</i>, Polish and +Bohemian <i>upir</i>. Supposed by some philologists to be from <i>pit’</i> = drink, whence +the Croatian name for a vampire <i>pijawica</i>. See “Songs of the Russian People,” p. +410.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_419_419" id="Footnote_419_419"></a><a href="#FNanchor_419_419"><span class="label">[419]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> iii. 558. The story is translated in full in “Songs of the +Russian People,” pp. 411, 412</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_420_420" id="Footnote_420_420"></a><a href="#FNanchor_420_420"><span class="label">[420]</span></a> In a most valuable article on “Vampirism” in the “Zeitschrift für deutsche +Mythologie und Sittenkunde,” Bd. iv. 1859, pp. 259-82.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_421_421" id="Footnote_421_421"></a><a href="#FNanchor_421_421"><span class="label">[421]</span></a> How superior our intelligence is to that of Slavonian peasants is proved by the +fact that they still drive stakes through supposed vampires, whereas our law no longer +demands that a suicide shall have a stake driven through his corpse. That rite was +abolished by 4 Geo. iv. c. 52.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_422_422" id="Footnote_422_422"></a><a href="#FNanchor_422_422"><span class="label">[422]</span></a> Compare with this belief the Scotch superstition mentioned by Pennant, that if +a dog or cat pass over a corpse the animal must be killed at once. As illustrative of +this idea, Mr. Henderson states, on the authority of “an old Northumbrian hind,” +that “in one case, just as a funeral was about to leave the house, the cat jumped over +the coffin, and no one would move till the cat was destroyed.” In another, a colly +dog jumped over a coffin which a funeral party had set on the ground while they +rested. “It was felt by all that the dog must be killed, without hesitation, before +they proceeded farther, and killed it was.” With us the custom survives; its +explanation has been forgotten. See Henderson’s “Notes on the Folk Lore of the +Northern Counties of England,” 1866, p. 43.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_423_423" id="Footnote_423_423"></a><a href="#FNanchor_423_423"><span class="label">[423]</span></a> A great deal of information about vampires, and also about turnskins, wizards +and witches, will be found in Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> iii. chap. xxvi., on which I have +freely drawn. The subject has been treated with his usual judgment and learning by +Mr. Tylor in his “Primitive Culture,” ii. 175, 176. For several ghastly stories about +the longing of Rákshasas and Vetálas for human flesh, some of which bear a strong +resemblance to Slavonic vampire tales, see Brockhaus’s translation of the first five +books of the “Kathásaritságara,” vol. i. p. 94; vol. ii. pp. 13, 142, 147.</p></div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>LEGENDS.</h3> + +<h3>I</h3> + +<h3><i>About Saints.</i></h3> + + +<p>As besides the songs or <i>pyesni</i> there are current among +the people a number of <i>stikhi</i> or poems on sacred subjects, +so together with the <i>skazki</i> there have been retained in +the popular memory a multitude of <i>legendui</i>, or legends +relating to persons or incidents mentioned in the Bible or +in ecclesiastical history. Many of them have been extracted +from the various apocryphal books which in olden +times had so wide a circulation, and many also from the +lives of the Saints; some of them may be traced to such +adaptations of Indian legends as the “Varlaam and Josaphat” +attributed to St. John of Damascus; and others +appear to be ancient heathen traditions, which, with altered +names and slightly modified incidents, have been made to +do service as Christian narratives. But whatever may be +their origin, they all bear witness to the fact of their having +been exposed to various influences, and many of them may +fairly be considered as relics of hoar antiquity, memorials +of that misty period when the pious Slavonian chronicler +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> +struck by the confusion of Christian with heathen ideas +and ceremonies then prevalent, styled his countrymen a +two-faithed people.<a name="FNanchor_424_424" id="FNanchor_424_424"></a><a href="#Footnote_424_424" class="fnanchor">[424]</a></p> + +<p>On the popular tales of a religious character current +among the Russian peasantry, the duality of their creed, +or of that of their ancestors, has produced a twofold effect. +On the one hand, into narratives drawn from purely Christian +sources there has entered a pagan element, most +clearly perceptible in stories which deal with demons and +departed spirits; on the other hand, an attempt has been +made to give a Christian nature to what are manifestly +heathen legends, by lending saintly names to their characters +and clothing their ideas in an imitation of biblical +language. Of such stories as these, it will be as well to +give a few specimens.</p> + +<p>Among the legends borrowed from the apocryphal +books and similar writings, many of which are said to be +still carefully preserved among the “Schismatics,” concealed +in hiding-places of which the secret is handed down +from father to son—as was once the case with the Hussite +books among the Bohemians—there are many which relate +to the creation of the world and the early history of man. +One of these states that when the Lord had created Adam +and Eve, he stationed at the gates of Paradise the dog, +then a clean beast, giving it strict orders not to give admittance +to the Evil One. But “the Evil One came to the +gates of Paradise, and threw the dog a piece of bread, and +the dog went and let the Evil One into Paradise. Then +the Evil One set to work and spat over Adam and Eve—covered +them all over with spittle, from the head to the +little toe of the left foot.” Thence is it that spittle is +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> +impure (<i>pogana</i>). So Adam and Eve were turned out of +Paradise, and the Lord said to the dog:</p> + +<p>“Listen, O Dog! thou wert a Dog (<i>Sobaka</i>), a clean +beast; through all Paradise the most holy didst thou roam. +Henceforward shalt thou be a Hound (<i>Pes</i>, or <i>Pyos</i>), an +unclean beast. Into a dwelling it shall be a sin to admit +thee; into a church if thou dost run, the church must be +consecrated anew.”</p> + +<p>And so—the story concludes—“ever since that time it +has been called not a dog but a hound—skin-deep it is +unclean (<i>pogana</i>), but clean within.”</p> + +<p>According to another story, when men first inhabited +the earth, they did not know how to build houses, so as to +keep themselves warm in winter. But instead of asking +aid from the Lord, they applied to the Devil, who taught +them how to make an <i>izba</i> or ordinary Russian cottage. +Following his instructions, they made wooden houses, each +of which had a door but no window. Inside these huts it +was warm; but there was no living in them, on account of +the darkness. “So the people went back to the Evil One. +The Evil one strove and strove, but nothing came of it, +the izba still remained pitch dark. Then the people +prayed unto the Lord. And the Lord said: ‘Hew out a +window!’ So they hewed out windows, and it became +light.”<a name="FNanchor_425_425" id="FNanchor_425_425"></a><a href="#Footnote_425_425" class="fnanchor">[425]</a></p> + +<p>Some of the Russian traditions about the creation of +man are closely connected with Teutonic myths. The +Schismatics called <i>Dukhobortsui</i>, or Spirit-Wrestlers, for +instance, hold that man was composed of earthly materials, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> +but that God breathed into his body the breath of life. +“His flesh was made of earth, his bones of stone, his veins +of roots, his blood of water, his hair of grass, his thought +of the wind, his spirit of the cloud.”<a name="FNanchor_426_426" id="FNanchor_426_426"></a><a href="#Footnote_426_426" class="fnanchor">[426]</a> Many of the Russian +stories about the early ages of the world, also, are +current in Western Europe, such as that about the rye—which +in olden days was a mass of ears from top to bottom. +But some lazy harvest-women having cursed “God’s corn,” +the Lord waxed wroth and began to strip the ears from the +stem. But when the last ear was about to fall, the Lord +had pity upon the penitent culprits, and allowed the single +ear to remain as we now see it.<a name="FNanchor_427_427" id="FNanchor_427_427"></a><a href="#Footnote_427_427" class="fnanchor">[427]</a></p> + +<p>A Little-Russian variant of this story says that Ilya +(Elijah), was so angry at seeing the base uses to which a +woman turned “God’s corn,” that he began to destroy all +the corn in the world. But a dog begged for, and received +a few ears. From these, after Ilya’s wrath was spent, +mankind obtained seed, and corn began to grow again on +the face of the earth, but not in its pristine bulk and beauty. +It is on account of the good service thus rendered to our +race that we ought to cherish and feed the dog.<a name="FNanchor_428_428" id="FNanchor_428_428"></a><a href="#Footnote_428_428" class="fnanchor">[428]</a></p> + +<p>Another story, from the Archangel Government, tells +how a certain King, as he roamed afield with his princes +and boyars, found a grain of corn as large as a sparrow’s +egg. Marvelling greatly at its size, he tried in vain to +obtain from his followers some explanation thereof. Then +they bethought them of “a certain man from among the +old people, who might be able to tell them something +about it.” But when the old man came, “scarcely able to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> +crawl along on a pair of crutches,” he said he knew nothing +about it, but perhaps his father might remember something. +So they sent for his father, who came limping along with +the help of one crutch, and who said:</p> + +<p>“I have a father living, in whose granary I have seen +just such a seed.”</p> + +<p>So they sent for his father, a man a hundred and seventy +years old. And the patriarch came, walking nimbly needing +neither guide nor crutch. Then the King began to +question him, saying:</p> + +<p>“Who sowed this sort of corn?”</p> + +<p>“I sowed it, and reaped it,” answered the old man, +“and now I have some of it in my granary. I keep it as +a memorial. When I was young, the grain was large and +plentiful, but after a time it began to grow smaller and +smaller.”</p> + +<p>“Now tell me,” asked the King, “how comes it, old +man, that thou goest more nimbly than thy son and thy +grandson?”</p> + +<p>“Because I lived according to the law of the Lord,” +answered the old man. “I held mine own, I grasped not +at what was another’s.”<a name="FNanchor_429_429" id="FNanchor_429_429"></a><a href="#Footnote_429_429" class="fnanchor">[429]</a></p> + +<p>The existence of hills is accounted for by legendary +lore in this wise. When the Lord was about to fashion +the face of the earth, he ordered the Devil to dive into the +watery depths and bring thence a handful of the soil he +found at the bottom. The Devil obeyed, but when he +filled his hand, he filled his mouth also. The Lord took +the soil, sprinkled it around, and the Earth appeared, all +perfectly flat. The Devil, whose mouth was quite full, +looked on for some time in silence. At last he tried to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> +speak, but choked, and fled in terror. After him followed +the thunder and the lightning, and so he rushed over the +whole face of the earth, hills springing up where he coughed, +and sky-cleaving mountains where he leaped.<a name="FNanchor_430_430" id="FNanchor_430_430"></a><a href="#Footnote_430_430" class="fnanchor">[430]</a></p> + +<p>As in other countries, a number of legends are current +respecting various animals. Thus the Old Ritualists will +not eat the crayfish (<i>rak</i>), holding that it was created by +the Devil. On the other hand the snake (<i>uzh</i>, the harmless +or common snake) is highly esteemed, for tradition +says that when the Devil, in the form of a mouse, had +gnawed a hole in the Ark, and thereby endangered the +safety of Noah and his family, the snake stopped up the +leak with its head.<a name="FNanchor_431_431" id="FNanchor_431_431"></a><a href="#Footnote_431_431" class="fnanchor">[431]</a> The flesh of the horse is considered +unclean, because when the infant Saviour was hidden in +the manger the horse kept eating the hay under which the +babe was concealed, whereas the ox not only would not +touch it, but brought back hay on its horns to replace +what the horse had eaten. According to an old Lithuanian +tradition, the shape of the sole is due to the fact that the +Queen of the Baltic Sea once ate one half of it and threw +the other half into the sea again. A legend from the +Kherson Government accounts for it as follows. At the +time of the Angelical Salutation, the Blessed Virgin told +the Archangel Gabriel that she would give credit to his +words “if a fish, one side of which had already been eaten, +were to come to life again. That very moment the fish +came to life, and was put back in the water.”</p> + +<p>With the birds many graceful legends are connected. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> +There is a bird, probably the peewit, which during dry +weather may be seen always on the wing, and piteously +crying <i>Peet, Peet</i>,<a name="FNanchor_432_432" id="FNanchor_432_432"></a><a href="#Footnote_432_432" class="fnanchor">[432]</a> as if begging for water. Of it the following +tale is told. When God created the earth, and +determined to supply it with seas, lakes and rivers, he +ordered the birds to convey the waters to their appointed +places. They all obeyed except this bird, which refused +to fulfil its duty, saying that it had no need of seas, lakes +or rivers, to slake its thirst. Then the Lord waxed wroth +and forbade it and its posterity ever to approach a sea or +stream, allowing it to quench its thirst with that water only +which remains in hollows and among stones after rain. +From that time it has never ceased its wailing cry of +“Drink, Drink,” <i>Peet, Peet</i>.<a name="FNanchor_433_433" id="FNanchor_433_433"></a><a href="#Footnote_433_433" class="fnanchor">[433]</a></p> + +<p>When the Jews were seeking for Christ in the garden, +says a Kharkof legend, all the birds, except the sparrow, +tried to draw them away from his hiding-place. Only the +sparrow attracted them thither by its shrill chirruping. +Then the Lord cursed the sparrow, and forbade that men +should eat of its flesh. In other parts of Russia, tradition +tells that before the crucifixion the swallows carried off +the nails provided for the use of the executioners, but the +sparrows brought them back. And while our Lord was +hanging on the cross the sparrows were maliciously exclaiming +<i>Jif! Jif!</i> or “He is living! He is living!” in +order to urge on the tormentors to fresh cruelties. But +the swallows cried, with opposite intent, <i>Umer! Umer!</i> +“He is dead! He is dead.” Therefore it is that to kill a +swallow is a sin, and that its nest brings good luck to a +house. But the sparrow is an unwelcome guest, whose +entry into a cottage is a presage of woe. As a punishment +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> +for its sins, its legs have been fastened together by +invisible bonds, and therefore it always hops, not being +able to run.<a name="FNanchor_434_434" id="FNanchor_434_434"></a><a href="#Footnote_434_434" class="fnanchor">[434]</a></p> + +<p>A great number of the Russian legends refer to the +visits which Christ and his Apostles are supposed to pay +to men’s houses at various times, but especially during the +period between Easter Sunday and Ascension Day. In +the guise of indigent wayfarers, the sacred visitors enter +into farm-houses and cottages and ask for food and lodging; +therefore to this day the Russian peasant is ever unwilling +to refuse hospitality to any man, fearing lest he +might repulse angels unawares. Tales of this kind are +common in all Christian lands, especially in those in which +their folk-lore has preserved some traces of the old faith +in the heathen gods who once walked the earth, and in +patriarchal fashion dispensed justice among men. Many +of the Russian stories closely resemble those of a similar +nature which occur in German and Scandinavian collections; +all of them, for instance, agreeing in the unfavorable +light in which they place St. Peter. The following abridgment +of the legend of “The Poor Widow,”<a name="FNanchor_435_435" id="FNanchor_435_435"></a><a href="#Footnote_435_435" class="fnanchor">[435]</a> may be taken +as a specimen of the Russian tales of this class.</p> + +<p>Long, long ago, Christ and his twelve Apostles were +wandering about the world, and they entered into a village +one evening, and asked a rich moujik to allow them to +spend the night in his house. But he would not admit +them, crying:</p> + +<p>“Yonder lives a widow who takes in beggars; go to +her.”</p> + +<p>So they went to the widow, and asked her. Now she +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> +was so poor that she had nothing in the house but a crust +of bread and a handful of flour. She had a cow, but it +had not calved yet, and gave no milk. But she did all +she could for the wayfarers, setting before them all the +food she had, and letting them sleep beneath her roof. +And her store of bread and flour was wonderfully increased, +so that her guests fed and were satisfied. And the next +morning they set out anew on their journey.</p> + +<p>As they went along the road there met them a wolf. +And it fell down before the Lord, and begged for food. +Then said the Lord, “Go to the poor widow’s; slay her +cow, and eat.”</p> + +<p>The Apostles remonstrated in vain. The wolf set off, +entered the widow’s cow-house, and killed her cow. And +when she heard what had taken place, she only said:</p> + +<p>“The Lord gave, the Lord has taken away. Holy is +His will!”</p> + +<p>As the sacred wayfarers pursued their journey, there +came rolling towards them a barrel full of money. Then +the Lord addressed it, saying:</p> + +<p>“Roll, O barrel, into the farmyard of the rich moujik!”</p> + +<p>Again the Apostles vainly remonstrated. The barrel +went its way, and the rich moujik found it, and stowed it +away, grumbling the while:</p> + +<p>“The Lord might as well have sent twice as much!”</p> + +<p>The sun rose higher, and the Apostles began to thirst. +Then said the Lord:</p> + +<p>“Follow that road, and ye will find a well; there drink +your fill.”</p> + +<p>They went along that road and found the well. But +they could not drink thereat, for its water was foul and +impure, and swarming with snakes and frogs and toads. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span> +So they returned to where the Lord awaited them, described +what they had seen, and resumed their journey. +After a time they were sent in search of another well. +And this time they found a place wherein was water pure +and cool, and around grew wondrous trees, whereon +heavenly birds sat singing. And when they had slaked +their thirst, they returned unto the Lord, who said:</p> + +<p>“Wherefore did ye tarry so long?”</p> + +<p>“We only stayed while we were drinking,” replied the +Apostles. “We did not spend above three minutes there +in all.”</p> + +<p>“Not three minutes did ye spend there, but three +whole years,” replied the Lord. “As it was in the first +well, so will it be in the other world with the rich moujik! +But as it was in the second well, so will it be in that world +with the poor widow!”</p> + +<p>Sometimes our Lord is supposed to wander by himself, +under the guise of a beggar. In the story of “Christ’s +Brother”<a name="FNanchor_436_436" id="FNanchor_436_436"></a><a href="#Footnote_436_436" class="fnanchor">[436]</a> a young man—whose father, on his deathbed, +had charged him not to forget the poor—goes to church +on Easter Day, having provided himself with red eggs to +give to the beggars with whom he should exchange the +Pascal greeting. After exhausting his stock of presents, +he finds that there remains one beggar of miserable appearance +to whom he has nothing to offer, so he takes him +home to dinner. After the meal the beggar exchanges +crosses with his host,<a name="FNanchor_437_437" id="FNanchor_437_437"></a><a href="#Footnote_437_437" class="fnanchor">[437]</a> giving him “a cross which blazes +like fire,” and invites him to pay him a visit on the following +Tuesday. To an enquiry about the way, he replies, +“You have only to go along yonder path and say, ‘Grant +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> +thy blessing, O Lord!’ and you will come to where I +am.”</p> + +<p>The young man does as he is told, and commences +his journey on the Tuesday. On his way he hears voices, +as though of children, crying, “O Christ’s brother, ask +Christ for us—have we to suffer long?” A little later he +sees a group of girls who are ladling water from one well +into another, who make the same request. At last he arrives +at the end of his journey, finds the aged mendicant +who had adopted him as his brother, and recognizes him +as “the Lord Jesus Christ Himself.” The youth relates +what he has seen, and asks:</p> + +<p>“Wherefore, O Lord, are the children suffering?”</p> + +<p>“Their mothers cursed them while still unborn,” is the +reply. “Therefore is it impossible for them to enter into +Paradise.”</p> + +<p>“And the girls?”</p> + +<p>“They used to sell milk, and they put water into the +milk. Now they are doomed to pour water from well to +well eternally.”</p> + +<p>After this the youth is taken into Paradise, and brought +to the place there provided for him.<a name="FNanchor_438_438" id="FNanchor_438_438"></a><a href="#Footnote_438_438" class="fnanchor">[438]</a></p> + +<p>Sometimes the sacred visitor rewards with temporal +goods the kindly host who has hospitably received him. +Thus the story of “Beer and Corn”<a name="FNanchor_439_439" id="FNanchor_439_439"></a><a href="#Footnote_439_439" class="fnanchor">[439]</a> tells how a certain +man was so poor that when the rest of the peasants were +brewing beer, and making other preparations to celebrate +an approaching feast of the Church, he found his cupboard +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> +perfectly bare. In vain did he apply to a rich neighbor, +who was in the habit of lending goods and money at usurious +rates; having no security to offer, he could borrow nothing. +But on the eve of the festival, when he was sitting at home in +sadness, he suddenly rose and drew near to the sacred painting +which hung in the corner, and sighed heavily, and said,</p> + +<p>“O Lord! forgive me, sinner that I am! I have not +even wherewith to buy oil, so as to light the lamp before +the image<a name="FNanchor_440_440" id="FNanchor_440_440"></a><a href="#Footnote_440_440" class="fnanchor">[440]</a> for the festival!”</p> + +<p>Soon afterwards an old man entered the cottage, and +obtained leave to spend the night there. After a time the +guest enquired why his host was so sad, and on learning +the reason, told him to go again to his rich neighbor and +borrow a quarter of malt. The moujik obeyed, and soon +returned with the malt, which the old man ordered him to +throw into his well. When this was done the villager and +his guest went to bed.</p> + +<p>Next morning the old man told his guest to borrow a +number of tubs, and fill them with liquor drawn from the +well, and then to make his neighbors assemble and drink +it. He did so, and the buckets were filled with “such beer +as neither fancy nor imagination can conceive, but only a +skazka can describe.” The villagers, excited by the news, +collected in crowds, and drank the beer and rejoiced. Last +of all came the rich neighbor, begging to know how such +wonderful beer was brewed. The moujik told him the +whole story, whereupon he straightway commanded his +servants to pour all his best malt into his well. And next +day he hastened to the well to taste the liquor it contained; +but he found nothing but malt and water; not a drop of +beer was there.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> +We may take next the legends current among the peasantry +about various saints. Of these, the story of “The +Prophet Elijah and St. Nicholas,” will serve as a good +specimen. But, in order to render it intelligible, a few +words about “Ilya the Prophet,” as Elijah is styled in +Russia, may as well be prefixed.</p> + +<p>It is well known that in the days of heathenism the +Slavonians worshipped a thunder-god, Perun,<a name="FNanchor_441_441" id="FNanchor_441_441"></a><a href="#Footnote_441_441" class="fnanchor">[441]</a> who occupied +in their mythological system the place which in +the Teutonic was assigned to a Donar or a Thor. He +was believed, if traditions may be relied upon, to sway the +elements, often driving across the sky in a flaming car, +and launching the shafts of the lightning at his demon +foes. His name is still preserved by the western and +southern Slavonians in many local phrases, especially in +imprecations; but, with the introduction of Christianity +into Slavonic lands, all this worship of his divinity came +to an end. Then took place, as had occurred before in +other countries, the merging of numerous portions of the +old faith in the new, the transferring of many of the attributes +of the old gods to the sacred personages of the +new religion.<a name="FNanchor_442_442" id="FNanchor_442_442"></a><a href="#Footnote_442_442" class="fnanchor">[442]</a> During this period of transition the ideas +which were formerly associated with the person of Perun, +the thunder-god, became attached to that of the Prophet +Ilya or Elijah.</p> + +<p>One of the causes which conduced to this result may +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> +have been—if Perun really was considered in old times, as +he is said to have been, the Lord of the Harvest—that the +day consecrated by the Church to Elijah, July 20, occurs +in the beginning of the harvest season, and therefore the +peasants naturally connected their new saint with their old +deity. But with more certainty may it be accepted that, +the leading cause was the similarity which appeared to the +recent converts to prevail between their dethroned thunder-god +and the prophet who was connected with drought and +with rain, whose enemies were consumed by fire from on +high, and on whom waited “a chariot of fire and horses +of fire,” when he was caught up by a whirlwind into +heaven. And so at the present day, according to Russian +tradition, the Prophet Ilya thunders across the sky in a +flaming car, and smites the clouds with the darts of the +lightning. In the Vladimir Government he is said “to +destroy devils with stone arrows,”—weapons corresponding +to the hammer of Thor and the lance of Indra. On his +day the peasants everywhere expect thunder and rain, and +in some places they set out rye and oats on their gates, +and ask their clergy to laud the name of Ilya, that he may +bless their cornfields with plenteousness. There are districts, +also, in which the people go to church in a body on +Ilya’s day, and after the service is over they kill and roast +a beast which has been purchased at the expense of the +community. Its flesh is cut up into small pieces and sold, +the money paid for it going to the church. To stay away +from this ceremony, or not to purchase a piece of the +meat, would be considered a great sin; to mow or make +hay on that day would be to incur a terrible risk, for Ilya +might smite the field with the thunder, or burn up the +crop with the lightning. In the old Novgorod there used +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span> +to be two churches, the one dedicated to “Ilya the Wet,” +the other to “Ilya the Dry.” To these a cross-bearing +procession was made when a change in the weather was +desired: to the former in times of drought, to the latter +when injury was being done to the crops by rain. Diseases +being considered to be evil spirits, invalids used to +pray to the thunder-god for relief. And so, at the present +day, a <i>zagovor</i> or spell against the Siberian cattle-plague +entreats the “Holy Prophet of God Ilya,” to send “thirty +angels in golden array, with bows and with arrows” to +destroy it. The Servians say that at the division of the +world Ilya received the thunder and lightning as his share, +and that the crash and blaze of the storm are signs of his +contest with the devil. Wherefore the faithful ought not to +cross themselves when the thunder peals, lest the evil one +should take refuge from the heavenly weapons behind the +protecting cross. The Bulgarians say that forked lightning +is the lance of Ilya who is chasing the Lamia fiend: summer +lightning is due to the sheen of that lance, or to the +fire issuing from the nostrils of his celestial steeds. The +white clouds of summer are named by them his heavenly +sheep, and they say that he compels the spirits of dead +Gypsies to form pellets of snow—by men styled hail—with +which he scourges in summer the fields of sinners.<a name="FNanchor_443_443" id="FNanchor_443_443"></a><a href="#Footnote_443_443" class="fnanchor">[443]</a></p> + +<p>Such are a few of the ideas connected by Slavonian +tradition with the person of the Prophet Elijah or Ilya. +To St. Nicholas, who has succeeded to the place occupied +by an ancient ruler of the waters, a milder character is +attributed than to Ilya, the thunder-god’s successor. As +Ilya is the counterpart of Thor, so does Nicholas in some +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> +respects resemble Odin. The special characteristics of the +Saint and the Prophet are fairly contrasted in the following +story.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">Elijah the Prophet and Nicholas.</span><a name="FNanchor_444_444" id="FNanchor_444_444"></a><a href="#Footnote_444_444" class="fnanchor">[444]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>A long while ago there lived a Moujik. Nicholas’s day he +always kept holy, but Elijah’s not a bit; he would even work +upon it. In honor of St. Nicholas he would have a taper lighted +and a service performed, but about Elijah the Prophet he +forgot so much as to think.</p> + +<p>Well, it happened one day that Elijah and Nicholas were +walking over the land belonging to this Moujik; and as they +walked they looked—in the cornfields the green blades were +growing up so splendidly that it did one’s heart good to look at +them.</p> + +<p>“Here’ll be a good harvest, a right good harvest!” says +Nicholas, “and the Moujik, too, is a good fellow sure enough, +both honest and pious: one who remembers God and thinks +about the Saints! It will fall into good hands—”</p> + +<p>“We’ll see by-and-by whether much will fall to his share!” +answered Elijah; “when I’ve burnt up all his land with lightning, +and beaten it all flat with hail, then this Moujik of yours will +know what’s right, and will learn to keep Elijah’s day holy.”</p> + +<p>Well, they wrangled and wrangled; then they parted asunder. +St. Nicholas went off straight to the Moujik and said:</p> + +<p>“Sell all your corn at once, just as it stands, to the Priest +of Elijah.<a name="FNanchor_445_445" id="FNanchor_445_445"></a><a href="#Footnote_445_445" class="fnanchor">[445]</a> If you don’t, nothing will be left of it: it will all be +beaten flat by hail.”</p> + +<p>Off rushed the Moujik to the Priest.</p> + +<p>“Won’t your Reverence buy some standing corn? I’ll sell +my whole crop. I’m in such pressing need of money just now. +It’s a case of pay up with me! Buy it, Father! I’ll sell it +cheap.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span> +They bargained and bargained, and came to an agreement. +The Moujik got his money and went home.</p> + +<p>Some little time passed by. There gathered together, there +came rolling up, a stormcloud; with a terrible raining and hailing +did it empty itself over the Moujik’s cornfields, cutting +down all the crop as if with a knife—not even a single blade did +it leave standing.</p> + +<p>Next day Elijah and Nicholas walked past. Says Elijah:</p> + +<p>“Only see how I’ve devastated the Moujik’s cornfield!”</p> + +<p>“The Moujik’s! No, brother! Devastated it you have +splendidly, only that field belongs to the Elijah Priest, not to +the Moujik.”</p> + +<p>“To the Priest! How’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Why, this way. The Moujik sold it last week to the +Elijah Priest, and got all the money for it. And so, methinks, +the Priest may whistle for his money!”</p> + +<p>“Stop a bit!” said Elijah. “I’ll set the field all right again. +It shall be twice as good as it was before.”</p> + +<p>They finished talking, and went each his own way. St. +Nicholas returned to the Moujik, and said:</p> + +<p>“Go to the Priest and buy back your crop—you won’t lose +anything by it.”</p> + +<p>The Moujik went to the Priest, made his bow, and said:</p> + +<p>“I see, your Reverence, God has sent you a misfortune—the +hail has beaten the whole field so flat you might roll a ball +over it. Since things are so, let’s go halves in the loss. I’ll +take my field back, and here’s half of your money for you to +relieve your distress.”</p> + +<p>The Priest was rejoiced, and they immediately struck hands +on the bargain.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile—goodness knows how—the Moujik’s ground +began to get all right. From the old roots shot forth new tender +stems. Rain-clouds came sailing exactly over the cornfield +and gave the soil to drink. There sprang up a marvellous crop—tall +and thick. As to weeds, there positively was not one to be +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> +seen. And the ears grew fuller and fuller, till they were fairly +bent right down to the ground.</p> + +<p>Then the dear sun glowed, and the rye grew ripe—like so +much gold did it stand in the fields. Many a sheaf did the +Moujik gather, many a heap of sheaves did he set up; and now +he was beginning to carry the crop, and to gather it together into +ricks.</p> + +<p>At that very time Elijah and Nicholas came walking by +again. Joyfully did the Prophet gaze on all the land, and say:</p> + +<p>“Only look, Nicholas! what a blessing! Why, I have rewarded +the Priest in such wise, that he will never forget it all +his life.”</p> + +<p>“The Priest? No, brother! the blessing indeed is great, +but this land, you see, belongs to the Moujik. The Priest +hasn’t got anything whatsoever to do with it.”</p> + +<p>“What are you talking about?”</p> + +<p>“It’s perfectly true. When the hail beat all the cornfield +flat, the Moujik went to the Priest and bought it back again at +half price.”</p> + +<p>“Stop a bit!” says Elijah. “I’ll take the profit out of the +corn. However many sheaves the Moujik may lay on the +threshing-floor, he shall never thresh out of them more than a +peck<a name="FNanchor_446_446" id="FNanchor_446_446"></a><a href="#Footnote_446_446" class="fnanchor">[446]</a> at a time.”</p> + +<p>“A bad piece of work!” thinks St. Nicholas. Off he went +at once to the Moujik.</p> + +<p>“Mind,” says he, “when you begin threshing your corn, +never put more than one sheaf at a time on the threshing-floor.”</p> + +<p>The Moujik began to thresh: from every sheaf he got a peck +of grain. All his bins, all his storehouses, he crammed with +rye; but still much remained over. So he built himself new +barns, and filled them as full as they could hold.</p> + +<p>Well, one day Elijah and Nicholas came walking past his +homestead, and the Prophet began looking here and there, and +said:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> +“Do you see what barns he’s built? has he got anything to +put into them?”</p> + +<p>“They’re quite full already,” answers Nicholas.</p> + +<p>“Why, wherever did the Moujik get such a lot of grain?”</p> + +<p>“Bless me! Why, every one of his sheaves gave him a +peck of grain. When he began to thresh he never put more +than one sheaf at a time on the threshing-floor.”</p> + +<p>“Ah, brother Nicholas!” said Elijah, guessing the truth, +“it’s you who go and tell the Moujik everything!”</p> + +<p>“What an idea! that I should go and tell—”</p> + +<p>“As you please; that’s your doing! But that Moujik sha’n’t +forget me in a hurry!”</p> + +<p>“Why, what are you going to do to him?”</p> + +<p>“What I shall do, that I won’t tell you,” replies Elijah.</p> + +<p>“There’s a great danger coming,” thinks St. Nicholas, and +he goes to the Moujik again, and says:</p> + +<p>“Buy two tapers, a big one and a little one, and do thus +and thus with them.”</p> + +<p>Well, next day the Prophet Elijah and St. Nicholas were +walking along together in the guise of wayfarers, and they met +the Moujik, who was carrying two wax tapers—one, a big +rouble one, and the other, a tiny copeck one.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going, Moujik?” asked St. Nicholas.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’m going to offer a rouble taper to Prophet Elijah; +he’s been ever so good to me! When my crops were ruined +by the hail, he bestirred himself like anything, and gave me +a plentiful harvest, twice as good as the other would have +been.”</p> + +<p>“And the copeck taper, what’s that for?”</p> + +<p>“Why, that’s for Nicholas!” said the peasant and passed +on.</p> + +<p>“There now, Elijah!” says Nicholas, “you say I go and +tell everything to the Moujik—surely you can see for yourself +how much truth there is in that!”</p> + +<p>Thereupon the matter ended. Elijah was appeased and +didn’t threaten to hurt the Moujik any more. And the Moujik +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> +led a prosperous life, and from that time forward he held in +equal honor Elijah’s Day and Nicholas’s Day.</p> +</div> + +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">It is not always to the Prophet Ilya that the power +once attributed to Perun is now ascribed. The pagan +wielder of the thunderbolt is represented in modern traditions +by more than one Christian saint. Sometimes, as +St. George, he transfixes monsters with his lance; sometimes, +as St. Andrew, he smites with his mace a spot given +over to witchcraft. There was a village (says one of the +legends of the Chernigof Government) in which lived more +than a thousand witches, and they used to steal the holy +stars, until at last “there was not one left to light our +sinful world.” Then God sent the holy Andrew, who +struck with his mace—and all that village was swallowed +up by the earth, and the place thereof became a +swamp.<a name="FNanchor_447_447" id="FNanchor_447_447"></a><a href="#Footnote_447_447" class="fnanchor">[447]</a></p> + +<p>About St. George many stories are told, and still more +ballads (if we may be allowed to call them so) are sung. +Under the names of Georgy, Yury, and Yegory the Brave, +he is celebrated as a patron as well of wolves as of flocks +and herds, as a Christian Confessor struggling and suffering +for the faith amid pagan foes, and as a chivalrous destroyer +of snakes and dragons. The discrepancies which +exist between the various representations given of his +character and his functions are very glaring, but they may +be explained by the fact that a number of legendary ideas +sprung from separate sources have become associated with +his name; so that in one story his actions are in keeping +with the character of an old Slavonian deity, in another, +with that of a Christian or a Buddhist saint.</p> + +<p>In some parts of Russia, when the cattle go out for the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> +first time to the spring pastures, a pie, made in the form +of a sheep, is cut up by the chief herdsman, and the fragments +are preserved as a remedy against the diseases to +which sheep are liable. On St. George’s Day in spring, +April 23, the fields are sanctified by a church service, at +the end of which they are sprinkled with holy water. In +the Tula Government a similar service is held over the +wells. On the same day, in some parts of Russia, a youth +(who is called by the Slovenes the Green Yegory) is +dressed like our own “Jack in the Green,” with foliage +and flowers. Holding a lighted torch in one hand and a +pie in the other, he goes out to the cornfields, followed by +girls singing appropriate songs. A circle of brushwood is +then lighted, in the centre of which is set the pie. All +who take part in the ceremony then sit down around the +fire, and eventually the pie is divided among them.</p> + +<p>Numerous legends speak of the strange connection +which exists between St. George and the Wolf. In Little +Russia that animal is called “St. George’s Dog,” and the +carcases of sheep which wolves have killed are not used +for human food, it being held that they have been assigned +by divine command to the beasts of the field. The human +victim whom St. George has doomed to be thus destroyed +nothing can save. A man, to whom such a fate had been +allotted, tried to escape from his assailants by hiding behind +a stove; but a wolf transformed itself into a cat, and +at midnight, when all was still, it stole into the house and +seized the appointed prey. A hunter, who had been +similarly doomed, went on killing wolves for some time, +and hanging up their skins; but when the fatal hour arrived, +one of the skins became a wolf, and slew him by +whom it had before been slain. In Little Russia the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span> +wolves have their own herdsman<a name="FNanchor_448_448" id="FNanchor_448_448"></a><a href="#Footnote_448_448" class="fnanchor">[448]</a>—a being like unto a +man, who is often seen in company with St. George. +There were two brothers (says a popular tale), the one +rich, the other poor. The poor brother had climbed up a +tree one night, and suddenly he saw beneath him what +seemed to be two men—the one driving a pack of wolves, +the other attending to the conveyance of a quantity of +bread. These two beings were St. George and the Lisun. +And St. George distributed the bread among the wolves, +and one loaf which remained over he gave to the poor +brother; who afterwards found that it was of a miraculous +nature, always renewing itself and so supplying its owner +with an inexhaustible store of bread. The rich brother, +hearing the story, climbed up the tree one night in hopes +of obtaining a similar present. But that night St. George +found that he had no bread to give to one of his wolves, +so he gave it the rich brother instead.<a name="FNanchor_449_449" id="FNanchor_449_449"></a><a href="#Footnote_449_449" class="fnanchor">[449]</a></p> + +<p>One of the legends attributes strange forgetfulness on +one occasion to St. George. A certain Gypsy who had a +wife and seven children, and nothing to feed them with, +was standing by a roadside lost in reflection, when Yegory +the Brave came riding by. Hearing that the saint was on +his way to heaven, the Gypsy besought him to ask of God +how he was to support his family. St. George promised +to do so, but forgot. Again the Gypsy saw him riding +past, and again the saint promised and forgot. In a third +interview the Gypsy asked him to leave behind his golden +stirrup as a pledge.</p> + +<p>A third time St. George leaves the presence of the +Lord without remembering the commission with which he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span> +has been entrusted. But when he is about to mount his +charger the sight of the solitary stirrup recalls it to his +mind. So he returns and states the Gypsy’s request, and +obtains the reply that “the Gypsy’s business is to cheat +and to swear falsely.” As soon as the Gypsy is told this, +he thanks the Saint and goes off home.</p> + +<p>“Where are you going?” cries Yegory. “Give me +back my golden stirrup.”</p> + +<p>“What stirrup?” asks the Gypsy.</p> + +<p>“Why, the one you took from me.”</p> + +<p>“When did I take one from you? I see you now for +the first time in my life, and never a stirrup did I ever take, +so help me Heaven!”</p> + +<p>So Yegory had to go away without getting his stirrup +back.<a name="FNanchor_450_450" id="FNanchor_450_450"></a><a href="#Footnote_450_450" class="fnanchor">[450]</a></p> + +<p>There is an interesting Bulgarian legend in which St. +George appears in his Christian capacity of dragon-slayer, +but surrounded by personages belonging to heathen mythology. +The inhabitants of the pagan city of Troyan, it +states, “did not believe in Christ, but in gold and silver.” +Now there were seventy conduits in that city which supplied +it with spring-water; and the Lord made these conduits +run with liquid gold and silver instead of water, so +that all the people had as much as they pleased of the +metals they worshipped, but they had nothing to drink.</p> + +<p>After a time the Lord took pity upon them, and there +appeared at a little distance from the city a deep lake. +To this they used to go for water. Only the lake was +guarded by a terrible monster, which daily devoured a +maiden, whom the inhabitants of Troyan were obliged to +give to it in return for leave to make use of the lake. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> +This went on for three years, at the end of which time it +fell to the lot of the king’s daughter to be sacrificed by the +monster. But when the Troyan Andromeda was exposed +on the shore of the lake, a Perseus arrived to save her in +the form of St. George. While waiting for the monster to +appear, the saint laid his head on her knees, and she dressed +his locks. Then he fell into so deep a slumber that the +monster drew nigh without awaking him. But the Princess +began to weep bitterly, and her scalding tears fell on the +face of St. George and awoke him, and he slew the monster, +and afterwards converted all the inhabitants of Troyan +to Christianity.<a name="FNanchor_451_451" id="FNanchor_451_451"></a><a href="#Footnote_451_451" class="fnanchor">[451]</a></p> + +<p>St. Nicholas generally maintains in the legends the +kindly character attributed to him in the story in which he +and the Prophet Ilya are introduced together. It is to +him that at the present day the anxious peasant turns +most readily for help, and it is he whom the legends represent +as being the most prompt of all the heavenly host to +assist the unfortunate among mankind. Thus in one of +the stories a peasant is driving along a heavy road one +autumn day, when his cart sticks fast in the mire. Just +then St. Kasian comes by.</p> + +<p>“Help me, brother, to get my cart out of the mud!” +says the peasant.</p> + +<p>“Get along with you!” replies St. Kasian. “Do you +suppose I’ve got leisure to be dawdling here with you!”</p> + +<p>Presently St. Nicholas comes that way. The peasant +addresses the same request to him, and he stops and gives +the required assistance.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> +When the two saints arrive in heaven, the Lord asks +them where they have been.</p> + +<p>“I have been on the earth,” replies St. Kasian. “And +I happened to pass by a moujik whose cart had stuck in +the mud. He cried out to me, saying, ‘Help me to get +my cart out!’ But I was not going to spoil my heavenly +apparel.”</p> + +<p>“I have been on the earth,” says St. Nicholas, whose +clothes were all covered with mud. “I went along that +same road, and I helped the moujik to get his cart free.”</p> + +<p>Then the Lord says, “Listen, Kasian! Because thou +didst not assist the moujik, therefore shall men honor thee +by thanksgiving once only every four years. But to thee, +Nicholas, because thou didst assist the moujik to set free +his cart, shall men twice every year offer up thanksgiving.”</p> + +<p>“Ever since that time,” says the story, “it has been +customary to offer prayers and thanksgiving (<i>molebnui</i>) to +Nicholas twice a year, but to Kasian only once every leap-year.”<a name="FNanchor_452_452" id="FNanchor_452_452"></a><a href="#Footnote_452_452" class="fnanchor">[452]</a></p> + +<p>In another story St. Nicholas comes to the aid of an +adventurer who watches beside the coffin of a bewitched +princess. There were two moujiks in a certain village, we +are told, one of whom was very rich and the other very +poor. One day the poor man, who was in great distress, +went to the house of the rich man and begged for a loan.</p> + +<p>“I will repay it, on my word. Here is Nicholas as a +surety,” he cried, pointing to a picture of St. Nicholas.</p> + +<p>Thereupon the rich man lent him twenty roubles. The +day for repayment came, but the poor man had not a single +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> +copeck. Furious at his loss, the rich man rushed to the +picture of St. Nicholas, crying—</p> + +<p>“Why don’t you pay up for that pauper? You stood +surety for him, didn’t you?”</p> + +<p>And as the picture made no reply, he tore it down +from the wall, set it on a cart and drove it away, flogging +it as he went, and crying—</p> + +<p>“Pay me my money! Pay me my money!”</p> + +<p>As he drove past the inn a young merchant saw him, +and cried—</p> + +<p>“What are you doing, you infidel!”</p> + +<p>The moujik explained that as he could not get his +money back from a man who was in his debt, he was proceeding +against a surety; whereupon the merchant paid +the debt, and thereby ransomed the picture, which he hung +up in a place of honor, and kept a lamp burning before it. +Soon afterwards an old man offered his services to the +merchant, who appointed him his manager; and from that +time all things went well with the merchant.</p> + +<p>But after a while a misfortune befell the land in which +he lived, for “an evil witch enchanted the king’s daughter, +who lay dead all day long, but at night got up and ate +people.” So she was shut up in a coffin and placed in a +church, and her hand, with half the kingdom as her dowry, +was offered to any one who could disenchant her. The +merchant, in accordance with his old manager’s instructions, +undertook the task, and after a series of adventures +succeeded in accomplishing it. The last words of one of +the narrators of the story are, “Now this old one was no +mere man. He was Nicholas himself, the saint of God.”<a name="FNanchor_453_453" id="FNanchor_453_453"></a><a href="#Footnote_453_453" class="fnanchor">[453]</a></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span> +With one more legend about this favorite saint, I will +conclude this section of the present chapter. In some of +its incidents it closely resembles the story of “The Smith +and the Demon,” which was quoted in the <a href="#Page_15">first chapter</a>.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Priest with the Greedy Eyes.</span><a name="FNanchor_454_454" id="FNanchor_454_454"></a><a href="#Footnote_454_454" class="fnanchor">[454]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In the parish of St. Nicholas there lived a Pope. This +Pope’s eyes were thoroughly pope-like.<a name="FNanchor_455_455" id="FNanchor_455_455"></a><a href="#Footnote_455_455" class="fnanchor">[455]</a> He served Nicholas +several years, and went on serving until such time as there +remained to him nothing either for board or lodging. Then our +Pope collected all the church keys, looked at the picture of +Nicholas, thumped him, out of spite, over the shoulders with +the keys, and went forth from his parish as his eyes led him. +And as he walked along the road he suddenly lighted upon an +unknown man.</p> + +<p>“Hail, good man!” said the stranger to the Pope. “Whence +do you come and whither are you going? Take me with you +as a companion.”</p> + +<p>Well, they went on together. They walked and walked for +several versts, then they grew tired. It was time to seek repose. +Now the Pope had a few biscuits in his cassock, and the companion +he had picked up had a couple of small loaves.<a name="FNanchor_456_456" id="FNanchor_456_456"></a><a href="#Footnote_456_456" class="fnanchor">[456]</a></p> + +<p>“Let’s eat your loaves first,” says the Pope, “and afterwards +we’ll take to the biscuits, too.”</p> + +<p>“Agreed!” replies the stranger. “We’ll eat my loaves, +and keep your biscuits for afterwards.”</p> + +<p>Well, they ate away at the loaves; each of them ate his fill, +but the loaves got no smaller. The Pope grew envious: +“Come,” thinks he, “I’ll steal them from him!” After the +meal the old man lay down to take a nap, but the Pope kept +scheming how to steal the loaves from him. The old man went +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> +to sleep. The Pope drew the loaves out of his pocket and +began quietly nibbling them at his seat. The old man awoke +and felt for his loaves; they were gone!</p> + +<p>“Where are my loaves?” he exclaimed; “who has eaten +them? was it you, Pope?”</p> + +<p>“No, not I, on my word!” replied the Pope.</p> + +<p>“Well, so be it,” said the old man.</p> + +<p>They gave themselves a shake, and set out again on their +journey. They walked and walked; suddenly the road branched +off in two different directions. Well, they both went the same +way, and soon reached a certain country. In that country the +King’s daughter lay at the point of death, and the King had given +notice that to him who should cure his daughter he would give +half of his kingdom, and half of his goods and possessions; but +if any one undertook to cure her and failed, he should have his +head chopped off and hung up on a stake. Well, they arrived, +elbowed their way among the people in front of the King’s palace, +and gave out that they were doctors. The servant came out +from the King’s palace, and began questioning them:</p> + +<p>“Who are you? from what cities, of what families? what +do you want?”</p> + +<p>“We are doctors,” they replied; “we can cure the Princess!”</p> + +<p>“Oh! if you are doctors, come into the palace.”</p> + +<p>So they went into the palace, saw the Princess, and asked +the King to supply them with a private apartment, a tub of +water, a sharp sword, and a big table. The King supplied +them with all these things. Then they shut themselves up in +the private apartment, laid the Princess on the big table, cut +her into small pieces with the sharp sword, flung them into the +tub of water, washed them, and rinsed them. Afterwards they +began putting the pieces together; when the old man breathed +on them the different pieces stuck together. When he had put +all the pieces together properly, he gave them a final puff of +breath: the Princess began to quiver, and then arose alive and +well! The King came in person to the door of their room, and +cried:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span> +“In the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy +Ghost!”</p> + +<p>“Amen!” they replied.</p> + +<p>“Have you cured the Princess?” asked the King.</p> + +<p>“We’ve cured her,” say the doctors. “Here she is!”</p> + +<p>Out went the Princess to the King, alive and well.</p> + +<p>Says the King to the doctors: “What sort of valuables will +you have? would you like gold or silver? Take whatever you +please.”</p> + +<p>Well, they began taking gold and silver. The old man used +only a thumb and two fingers, but the Pope seized whole handfuls, +and kept on stowing them away in his wallet—shovelling +them into it, and then lifting it a bit to see if he was strong +enough to carry it.</p> + +<p>At last they took their leave of the King and went their way. +The old man said to the Pope, “We’ll bury this money in the +ground, and go and make another cure.” Well, they walked +and walked, and at length they reached another country. In +that country, also, the King had a daughter at the point of death, +and he had given notice that whoever cured his daughter should +have half of his kingdom and of his goods and possessions; but +if he failed to cure her he should have his head chopped off and +hung up on a stake.<a name="FNanchor_457_457" id="FNanchor_457_457"></a><a href="#Footnote_457_457" class="fnanchor">[457]</a> Then the Evil One afflicted the envious +Pope, suggesting to him “Why shouldn’t he go and perform +the cure by himself, without saying a word to the old man, and +so lay hold of all the gold and silver for himself?” So the +Pope walked about in front of the royal gates, forced himself on +the notice of the people there, and gave out that he was a doctor. +In the same way as before he asked the King for a private +room, a tub of water, a large table, and a sharp sword. Shutting +himself up in the private room, he laid the Princess on the table, +and began chopping her up with the sharp sword; and however +much the Princess might scream or squeal, the Pope, without +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span> +paying any attention to either screaming or squealing, went on +chopping and chopping just as if she had been so much beef. +And when he had chopped her up into little pieces, he threw +them into the tub, washed them, rinsed them, and then put +them together bit by bit, exactly as the old man had done, expecting +to see all the pieces unite with each other. He breathes +on them—but nothing happens! He gives another puff—worse +than ever! See, the Pope flings the pieces back again into the +water, washes and washes, rinses and rinses, and again puts +them together bit by bit. Again he breathes on them—but still +nothing comes of it.</p> + +<p>“Woe is me,” thinks the Pope; “here’s a mess!”</p> + +<p>Next morning the King arrives and looks—the doctor has +had no success at all—he’s only messed the dead body all over +with muck!</p> + +<p>The King ordered the doctor off to the gallows. Then our +Pope besought him, crying—</p> + +<p>“O King! O free to do thy will! Spare me for a little +time! I will run for the old man, he will cure the Princess.”</p> + +<p>The Pope ran off in search of the old man. He found the +old man, and cried:</p> + +<p>“Old man! I am guilty, wretch that I am! The Devil +got hold of me. I wanted to cure the King’s daughter all by +myself, but I couldn’t. Now they’re going to hang me. Do +help me!”</p> + +<p>The old man returned with the Pope.</p> + +<p>The Pope was taken to the gallows. Says the old man to +the Pope:</p> + +<p>“Pope! who ate my loaves?”</p> + +<p>“Not I, on my word! So help me Heaven, not I!”</p> + +<p>The Pope was hoisted on to the second step. Says the old +man to the Pope:</p> + +<p>“Pope! who ate my loaves?”</p> + +<p>“Not I, on my word! So help me Heaven, not I!”</p> + +<p>He mounted the third step—and again it was “Not I!” +And now his head was actually in the noose—but it’s “Not I!” +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> +all the same. Well, there was nothing to be done! Says the +old man to the King:</p> + +<p>“O King! O free to do thy will! Permit me to cure the +Princess. And if I do not cure her, order another noose to be +got ready. A noose for me, and a noose for the Pope!”</p> + +<p>Well, the old man put the pieces of the Princess’s body together, +bit by bit, and breathed on them—and the Princess stood +up alive and well. The King recompensed them both with +silver and gold.</p> + +<p>“Let’s go and divide the money, Pope,” said the old man.</p> + +<p>So they went. They divided the money into three heaps. +The Pope looked at them, and said:</p> + +<p>“How’s this? There’s only two of us. For whom is this +third share?”</p> + +<p>“That,” says the old man, “is for him who ate my loaves.”</p> + +<p>“I ate them, old man,” cries the Pope; “I did really, so +help me Heaven!”</p> + +<p>“Then the money is yours,” says the old man. “Take my +share too. And now go and serve in your parish faithfully; +don’t be greedy, and don’t go hitting Nicholas over the shoulders +with the keys.”</p> + +<p>Thus spake the old man, and straightway disappeared.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[The principal motive of this story is, of course, the same as that of “The Smith +and the Demon,” in No. 13 (see above, p. <a href="#Page_70">70</a>). A miraculous cure is effected by a +supernatural being. A man attempts to do likewise, but fails. When about to undergo +the penalty of his failure, he is saved by that being, who reads him a moral lesson. +In the original form of the tale the supernatural agent was probably a demigod, whom +a vague Christian influence has in one instance degraded into the Devil, in another, +canonized as St. Nicholas.</p> + +<p>The Medea’s cauldron episode occurs in very many folk-tales, such as the German +“Bruder Lustig” (Grimm, No. 81) and “Das junge geglühte Männlein” (Grimm, +No. 147), in the latter of which our Lord, accompanied by St. Peter, spends a night +in a Smith’s house, and makes an old beggar-man young by first placing him in the +fire, and then plunging him into water. After the departure of his visitors, the Smith +tries a similar experiment on his mother-in-law, but quite unsuccessfully. In the corresponding +Norse tale of “The Master-Smith,” (Asbjörnsen and Moe, No. 21, +Dasent, No. 16) an old beggar-woman is the victim of the Smith’s unsuccessful experiment. +In another Norse tale, that of “Peik” (Asbjörnsen’s New Series, No. +101, p. 219) a king is induced to kill his wife and his daughter in the mistaken belief +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> +that he will be able to restore them to life. In one of the stories of the “Dasakumáracharita,” +a king is persuaded to jump into a certain lake in the hope of obtaining a +new and improved body. He is then killed by his insidious adviser, who usurps his +throne, pretending to be the renovated monarch. In another story in the same collection +a king believes that his wife will be able to confer on him by her magic skill “a +most celestial figure,” and under that impression confides to her all his secrets, after +which she brings about his death. See Wilson’s “Essays,” ii. 217, &c., and 262, &c. +Jacob’s “Hindoo Tales,” pp. 180, 315.]</p></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> +<h3>II.</h3> + +<h3><i>About Demons.</i></h3> + +<p>From the stories which have already been quoted some +idea may be gained of the part which evil spirits play in +Russian popular fiction. In one of them (No. 1) figures +the ghoul which feeds on the dead, in several (Nos. 37, 38, +45-48) we see the fiend-haunted corpse hungering after +human flesh and blood; the history of <i>The Bad Wife</i> +(No. 7) proves how a demon may suffer at a woman’s +hands, that of <i>The Dead Witch</i> (No. 3) shows to what +indignities the remains of a wicked woman may be subjected +by the fiends with whom she has chosen to associate. +In the <i>Awful Drunkard</i> (No. 6), and the <i>Fiddler in Hell</i> +(No. 41), the abode of evil spirits is portrayed, and some +light is thrown on their manners and customs; and in the +<i>Smith and the Demon</i> (No. 13), the portrait of one of their +number is drawn in no unkindly spirit. The difference +which exists between the sketches of fiends contained in +these stories is clearly marked, so much so that it would +of itself be sufficient to prove that there is no slight confusion +of ideas in the minds of the Russian peasants with +regard to the demoniacal beings whom they generally call +<i>chorti</i> or devils. Still more clearly is the contrast between +those ideas brought out by the other stories, many in +number, into which those powers of darkness enter. It +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> +is evident that the traditions from which the popular conception +of the ghostly enemy has been evolved must have +been of a complex and even conflicting character.</p> + +<p>Of very heterogeneous elements must have been composed +the form under which the popular fancy, in Russia +as well as in other lands, has embodied the abstract idea of +evil. The diabolical characters in the Russian tales and +legends are constantly changing the proportions of their +figures, the nature of their attributes. In one story they +seem to belong to the great and widely subdivided family +of Indian demons; in another they appear to be akin to +certain fiends of Turanian extraction; in a third they display +features which may have been inherited from the forgotten +deities of old Slavonic mythology; in all the stories +which belong to the “legendary class” they bear manifest +signs of having been subjected to Christian influences, the +effect of which has been insufficient to do more than +slightly to disguise their heathenism.</p> + +<p>The old gods of the Slavonians have passed away and +left behind but scanty traces of their existence; but still, +in the traditions and proverbial expressions of the peasants +in various Slavonic lands, there may be recognized some +relics of the older faith. Among these are a few referring +to a White and to a Black God. Thus, among the peasants +of White Russia some vague memory still exists of a white +or bright being, now called Byelun,<a name="FNanchor_458_458" id="FNanchor_458_458"></a><a href="#Footnote_458_458" class="fnanchor">[458]</a> who leads belated +travellers out of forests, and bestows gold on men who do +him good service. “Dark is it in the forest without Byelun” +is one phrase; and another, spoken of a man on +whom fortune has smiled, is, “He must have made friends +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> +with Byelun.” On the other hand the memory of the black +or evil god is preserved in such imprecations as the +Ukraine “May the black god smite thee!”<a name="FNanchor_459_459" id="FNanchor_459_459"></a><a href="#Footnote_459_459" class="fnanchor">[459]</a> To ancient +pagan traditions, also, into which a Christian element has +entered, may be assigned the popular belief that infants +which have been cursed by their mothers before their +birth, or which are suffocated during their sleep, or which +die from any causes unchristened or christened by a +drunken priest, become the prey of demons. This idea +has given rise in Russia, as well as elsewhere, to a large +group of stories. The Russian peasants believe, it is said, +that in order to rescue from the fiends the soul of a babe +which has been suffocated in its sleep, its mother must +spend three nights in a church, standing within a circle +traced by the hand of a priest. When the cocks crow on +the third morning, the demons will give her back her dead +child.<a name="FNanchor_460_460" id="FNanchor_460_460"></a><a href="#Footnote_460_460" class="fnanchor">[460]</a></p> + +<p>Great stress is laid in the skazkas and legends upon +the terrible power of a parent’s curse. The “hasty word” +of a father or a mother will condemn even an innocent +child to slavery among devils, and when it has once been +uttered, it is irrevocable. It might have been supposed +that the fearful efficacy of such an imprecation would have +silenced bad language, as that of the <i>Vril</i> rendered war +impossible among the Vril-ya of “The Coming Race;” +but that such was not the case is proved by the number of +narratives which turn on uncalled-for parental cursing. +Here is an abridgment of one of these stories.</p> + +<p>There was an old man who lived near Lake Onega, +and who supported himself and his wife by hunting. One +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> +day when he was engaged in the pursuit of game, a well-dressed +man met him and said,</p> + +<p>“Sell me that dog of yours, and come for your money +to the Mian mountain to-morrow evening.”</p> + +<p>The old man sold him the dog, and went next day to +the top of the mountain, where he found a great city inhabited +by devils.<a name="FNanchor_461_461" id="FNanchor_461_461"></a><a href="#Footnote_461_461" class="fnanchor">[461]</a> There he soon found the house of his +debtor, who provided him with a banquet and a bath. And +in the bath-room he was served by a young man who, when +the bath was over, fell at his feet, saying,</p> + +<p>“Don’t accept money for your dog, grandfather, but +ask for me!”</p> + +<p>The old man consented. “Give me that good youth,” +said he. “He shall serve instead of a son to me.”</p> + +<p>There was no help for it; they had to give him the +youth. And when the old man had returned home, the +youth told him to go to Novgorod, there to enquire for a +merchant, and ask him whether he had any children.</p> + +<p>He did so, and the merchant replied,</p> + +<p>“I had an only son, but his mother cursed him in a +passion, crying, ‘The devil take thee!’<a name="FNanchor_462_462" id="FNanchor_462_462"></a><a href="#Footnote_462_462" class="fnanchor">[462]</a> And so the +devil carried him off.”</p> + +<p>It turned out that the youth whom the old man had +saved from the devils was that merchant’s son. Thereupon +the merchant rejoiced greatly, and took the old man and +his wife to live with him in his house.<a name="FNanchor_463_463" id="FNanchor_463_463"></a><a href="#Footnote_463_463" class="fnanchor">[463]</a></p> + +<p>And here is another tale of the same kind, from the +Vladimir Government.</p> + +<p>Once upon a time there was an old couple, and they +had an only son. His mother had cursed him before he +was born, but he grew up and married. Soon afterwards +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> +he suddenly disappeared. His parents did all they could +to trace him, but their attempts were in vain.</p> + +<p>Now there was a hut in the forest not far off, and +thither it chanced that an old beggar came one night, and +lay down to rest on the stove. Before he had been there +long, some one rode up to the door of the hut, got off his +horse, entered the hut, and remained there all night, muttering +incessantly:</p> + +<p>“May the Lord judge my mother, in that she cursed +me while a babe unborn!”</p> + +<p>Next morning the beggar went to the house of the old +couple, and told them all that had occurred. So towards +evening the old man went to the hut in the forest, and hid +himself behind the stove. Presently the horseman arrived, +entered the hut, and began to repeat the words which the +beggar had overheard. The old man recognized his son, +and came forth to greet him, crying:</p> + +<p>“O my dear son! at last I have found thee! never +again will I let thee go!”</p> + +<p>“Follow me!” replied his son, who mounted his horse +and rode away, his father following him on foot. Presently +they came to a river which was frozen over, and in +the ice was a hole.<a name="FNanchor_464_464" id="FNanchor_464_464"></a><a href="#Footnote_464_464" class="fnanchor">[464]</a> And the youth rode straight into that +hole, and in it both he and his horse disappeared. The +old man lingered long beside the ice-hole, then he returned +home and said to his wife:</p> + +<p>“I have found our son, but it will be hard to get him +back. Why, he lives in the water!”</p> + +<p>Next night the youth’s mother went to the hut, but she +succeeded no better than her husband had done.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> +So on the third night his young wife went to the hut +and hid behind the stove. And when she heard the horseman +enter she sprang forth, exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“My darling dear, my life-long spouse! now will I +never part from thee!”</p> + +<p>“Follow me!” replied her husband.</p> + +<p>And when they came to the edge of the ice-hole—</p> + +<p>“If thou goest into the water, then will I follow after +thee!” cried she.</p> + +<p>“If so, take off thy cross,” he replied.</p> + +<p>She took off her cross, leaped into the ice-hole—and +found herself in a vast hall. In it Satan<a name="FNanchor_465_465" id="FNanchor_465_465"></a><a href="#Footnote_465_465" class="fnanchor">[465]</a> was seated. +And when he saw her arrive, he asked her husband whom +he had brought with him.</p> + +<p>“This is my wife,” replied the youth.</p> + +<p>“Well then, if she is thy wife, get thee gone hence with +her! married folks must not be sundered.”<a name="FNanchor_466_466" id="FNanchor_466_466"></a><a href="#Footnote_466_466" class="fnanchor">[466]</a></p> + +<p>So the wife rescued her husband, and brought him back +from the devils into the free light.<a name="FNanchor_467_467" id="FNanchor_467_467"></a><a href="#Footnote_467_467" class="fnanchor">[467]</a></p> + +<p>Sometimes it is a victim’s own imprudence, and not a +parent’s “hasty word,” which has placed him in the power +of the Evil One. There is a well-known story, which has +spread far and wide over Europe, of a soldier who abstains +for a term of years from washing, shaving, and hair-combing, +and who serves, or at least obeys, the devil during +that time, at the end of which he is rewarded by the fiend +with great wealth. His appearance being against him, he +has some difficulty in finding a wife, rich as he is. But +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span> +after the elder sisters of a family have refused him, the +youngest accepts him; whereupon he allows himself to be +cleansed, combed, and dressed in bright apparel, and leads +a cleanly and a happy life ever afterwards.<a name="FNanchor_468_468" id="FNanchor_468_468"></a><a href="#Footnote_468_468" class="fnanchor">[468]</a></p> + +<p>In one of the German versions of this story, a king’s +elder daughter, when asked to marry her rich but slovenly +suitor, replies, “I would sooner go into the deepest water +than do that.” In a Russian version,<a name="FNanchor_469_469" id="FNanchor_469_469"></a><a href="#Footnote_469_469" class="fnanchor">[469]</a> the unwashed +soldier lends a large sum of money to an impoverished +monarch, who cannot pay his troops, and asks his royal +creditor to give him one of his daughters in marriage by +way of recompense. The king reflects. He is sorry for +his daughters, but at the same time he cannot do without +the money. At last, he tells the soldier to get his portrait +painted, and promises to show it to the princesses, and +see if one of them will accept him. The soldier has his +likeness taken, “touch for touch, just exactly as he is,” +and the king shows it to his daughters. The eldest +princess sees that “the picture is that of a monster, with +dishevelled hair, and uncut nails, and unwiped nose,” and +cries:</p> + +<p>“I won’t have him! I’d sooner have the devil!”</p> + +<p>Now the devil “was standing behind her, pen and +paper in hand. He heard what she said, and booked her +soul.”</p> + +<p>When the second princess is asked whether she will +marry the soldier, she exclaims:</p> + +<p>“No indeed! I’d rather die an old maid, I’d sooner +be linked with the devil, than marry that man!”</p> + +<p>When the devil heard that, “he booked her soul too.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> +But the youngest princess, the Cordelia of the family, +when she is asked whether she will marry the man who has +helped her father in his need, replies:</p> + +<p>“It’s fated I must, it seems! I’ll marry him, and then—God’s +will be done!”</p> + +<p>While the preparations are being made for the marriage, +the soldier arrives at the end of his term of service to “the +little devil” who had hired him, and from whom he had +received his wealth in return for his abstinence and cleanliness. +So he calls the “little devil,” and says, “Now +turn me into a nice young man.”</p> + +<p>Accordingly “the little devil cut him up into small +pieces, threw them into a cauldron and set them on to +boil. When they were done enough, he took them out +and put them together again properly—bone to bone, joint +to joint, vein to vein. Then he sprinkled them with the +Waters of Life and Death—and up jumped the soldier, a +finer lad than stories can describe, or pens portray!”</p> + +<p>The story does not end here. When the “little devil” +returns to the lake from which he came, “the grandfather” +of the demons asks him—</p> + +<p>“How about the soldier?”</p> + +<p>“He has served his time honestly and honorably,” is +the reply. “Never once did he shave, have his hair cut, +wipe his nose, or change his clothes.” The “grandfather” +flies into a passion.</p> + +<p>“What! in fifteen whole years you couldn’t entrap a +soldier! What, all that money wasted for nothing! What +sort of a devil do you call yourself after that?”—and ordered +him to be flung “into boiling pitch.”</p> + +<p>“Stop, grandfather!” replies his grandchild. “I’ve +booked two souls instead of the soldier’s one.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> +“How’s that?”</p> + +<p>“Why, this way. The soldier wanted to marry one of +three princesses, but the elder one and the second one told +their father that they’d sooner marry the devil than the +soldier. So you see both of them are ours.”</p> + +<p>After he had heard this explanation, “the grandfather +acknowledged that the little devil was in the right, and +ordered him to be set free. The imp, you see, understood +his business.”</p> + +<div class="note"> +<p>[For two German versions of this story, see the tales of “Des Teufels russiger +Bruder,” and “Der Bärenhäuter” (Grimm, Nos. 100, 101, and Bd. iii. pp. 181, 182). +More than twelve centuries ago, Hiouen-Thsang transferred the following story from +India to China. A certain Rishi passed many times ten thousand years in a religious +ecstasy. His body became like a withered tree. At last he <ins class="correction" title="merged in original">emerged</ins> from his ecstasy, +and felt inclined to marry, so he went to a neighboring palace, and asked the king to +bestow upon him one of his daughters. The king, exceedingly embarrassed, called +the princesses together, and asked which of them would consent to accept the dreaded +suitor (who, of course, had not paid the slightest attention to his toilette for hundreds +of centuries). Ninety-nine of those ladies flatly refused to have anything to do with +him, but the hundredth, the last and youngest of the party, agreed to sacrifice herself +for her father’s sake. But when the Rishi saw his bride he was discontented, and +when he heard that her elder and fairer sisters had all refused him, he pronounced a +curse which made all ninety-nine of them humpbacks, and so destroyed their chance +of marrying at all. Stanislas Julien’s “Mémoires sur les contrées occidentales,” +1857, i. pp. 244-7.]</p></div> + +<p>As the idea that “a hasty word” can place its utterer +or its victim in the power of the Evil One (not only after +death, but also during this life) has given rise to numerous +Russian legends, and as it still exists, to some extent, as a +living faith in the minds of the Russian peasantry, it may +be as well to quote at length one of the stories in which it +is embodied. It will be recognized as a variant of the +stories about the youth who visits the “Water King” and +elopes with one of that monarch’s daughters. The main +difference between the “legend” we are about to quote, +and the skazkas which have already been quoted, is that a +devil of the Satanic type is substituted in it for the mythical +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a></span> +personage—whether Slavonic Neptune or Indian Rákshasa—who +played a similar part in them.</p> + + +<h4><span class="smcap">The Hasty Word.</span><a name="FNanchor_470_470" id="FNanchor_470_470"></a><a href="#Footnote_470_470" class="fnanchor">[470]</a></h4> + +<div class="tale"> +<p>In a certain village there lived an old couple in great poverty, +and they had one son. The son grew up,<a name="FNanchor_471_471" id="FNanchor_471_471"></a><a href="#Footnote_471_471" class="fnanchor">[471]</a> and the old woman +began to say to the old man:</p> + +<p>“It’s time for us to get our son married.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, go and ask for a wife for him,” said he.</p> + +<p>So she went to a neighbor to ask for his daughter for her +son: the neighbor refused. She went to a second peasant’s, +but the second refused too—to a third, but he showed her the +door. She went round the whole village; not a soul would +grant her request. So she returned home and cried—</p> + +<p>“Well, old man! our lad’s an unlucky fellow!”</p> + +<p>“How so?”</p> + +<p>“I’ve trudged round to every house, but no one will give +him his daughter.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a bad business!” says the old man; “the summer +will soon be coming, but we have no one to work for us here. +Go to another village, old woman, perhaps you will get a bride +for him there.”</p> + +<p>The old woman went to another village, visited every house +from one end to the other, but there wasn’t an atom of good to +be got out of it. Wherever she thrusts herself, they always +refuse. With what she left home, with that she returned +home.</p> + +<p>“No,” she says, “no one wants to become related to us +poor beggars.”</p> + +<p>“If that’s the case,” answers the old man, “there’s no use +in wearing out your legs. Jump up on to the <i>polati</i>.”<a name="FNanchor_472_472" id="FNanchor_472_472"></a><a href="#Footnote_472_472" class="fnanchor">[472]</a></p> + +<p>The son was sorely afflicted, and began to entreat his parents, +saying:</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span> +“My born father and my born mother! give me your blessing. +I will go and seek my fate myself.”</p> + +<p>“But where will you go?”</p> + +<p>“Where my eyes lead me.”</p> + +<p>So they gave him their blessing, and let him go whithersoever +it pleased him.<a name="FNanchor_473_473" id="FNanchor_473_473"></a><a href="#Footnote_473_473" class="fnanchor">[473]</a></p> + +<p>Well, the youth went out upon the highway, began to weep +very bitterly, and said to himself as he walked:</p> + +<p>“Was I born into the world worse than all other men, that +not a single girl is willing to marry me? Methinks if the devil +himself would give me a bride, I’d take even her!”</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as if rising from the earth, there appeared before +him a very old man.</p> + +<p>“Good-day, good youth!”</p> + +<p>“Good-day, old man!”</p> + +<p>“What was that you were saying just now?”</p> + +<p>The youth was frightened and did not know what reply to +make.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be afraid of me! I sha’n’t do you any harm, and +moreover, perhaps I may get you out of your trouble. Speak +boldly!”</p> + +<p>The youth told him everything precisely.</p> + +<p>“Poor creature that I am! There isn’t a single girl who +will marry me. Well, as I went along I became exceedingly +wretched, and in my misery I said: ‘If the devil offered me a +bride, I’d take even her!’”</p> + +<p>The old man laughed and said:</p> + +<p>“Follow me, I’ll let you choose a lovely bride for yourself.”</p> + +<p>By-and-by they reached a lake.</p> + +<p>“Turn your back to the lake and walk backwards,” said the +old man. Scarcely had the youth had time to turn round and +take a couple of steps, when he found himself under the water +and in a white-stone palace—all its rooms splendidly furnished, +cunningly decorated. The old man gave him to eat and to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a></span> +drink. Afterwards he introduced twelve maidens, each one +more beautiful than the other.</p> + +<p>“Choose whichever you like! whichever you choose, her +will I bestow upon you.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a puzzling job!” said the youth; “give me till to-morrow +morning to think about it, grandfather!”</p> + +<p>“Well, think away!” said the old man, and led his guest to +a private chamber. The youth lay down to sleep and thought:</p> + +<p>“Which one shall I choose?”</p> + +<p>Suddenly the door opened; a beautiful maiden entered.</p> + +<p>“Are you asleep, or not, good youth?” says she.</p> + +<p>“No, fair maiden! I can’t get to sleep, for I’m always thinking +which bride to choose.”</p> + +<p>“That’s the very reason I have come to give you counsel. +You see, good youth, you’ve managed to become the devil’s +guest. Now listen. If you want to go on living in the white +world, then do what I tell you. But if you don’t follow my +instructions, you’ll never get out of here alive!”</p> + +<p>“Tell me what to do, fair maiden. I won’t forget it all +my life.”</p> + +<p>“To-morrow the fiend will bring you twelve maidens, each one +exactly like the others. But you take a good look and choose +me. A fly will be sitting above my right eye—that will be a +certain guide for you.” And then the fair maiden proceeded to +tell him about herself, who she was.</p> + +<p>“Do you know the priest of such and such a village?” she +says. “I’m his daughter, the one who disappeared from home +when nine years old. One day my father was angry with me, +and in his wrath he said, ‘May devils fly away with you!’ I +went out on the steps and began to cry. All of a sudden the +fiends seized me and brought me here; and here I am living +with them!”</p> + +<p>Next morning the old man brought in the twelve fair +maidens—one just like another—and ordered the youth to +choose his bride. He looked at them and took her above whose +right eye sat a fly. The old man was loth to give her up, so he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span> +shifted the maidens about, and told him to make a fresh choice. +The youth pointed out the same one as before. The fiend +obliged him to choose yet a third time. He again guessed +his bride aright.</p> + +<p>“Well, you’re in luck! take her home with you,” said the +fiend.</p> + +<p>Immediately the youth and the fair maiden found themselves +on the shore of the lake, and until they reached the high road +they kept on walking backwards. Presently the devils came +rushing after them in hot pursuit:</p> + +<p>“Let us recover our maiden!” they cry.</p> + +<p>They look: there are no footsteps going away from the +lake; all the footsteps lead into the water! They ran to and +fro, they searched everywhere, but they had to go back empty +handed.</p> + +<p>Well, the good youth brought his bride to her village, and +stopped opposite the priest’s house. The priest saw him and +sent out his laborer, saying:</p> + +<p>“Go and ask who those people are.”</p> + +<p>“We? we’re travellers; please let us spend the night in +your house,” they replied.</p> + +<p>“I have merchants paying me a visit,” says the priest, +“and even without them there’s but little room in the house.”</p> + +<p>“What are you thinking of, father?” says one of the +merchants. “It’s always one’s duty to accommodate a traveller, +they won’t interfere with us.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, let them come in.”</p> + +<p>So they came in, exchanged greetings, and sat down on a +bench in the back corner.</p> + +<p>“Don’t you know me, father?” presently asks the fair +maiden. “Of a surety I am your own daughter.”</p> + +<p>Then she told him everything that had happened. They +began to kiss and embrace each other, to pour forth tears of +joy.</p> + +<p>“And who is this man?” says the priest.</p> + +<p>“That is my betrothed. He brought me back into the white +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> +world; if it hadn’t been for him I should have remained down +there for ever!”</p> + +<p>After this the fair maiden untied her bundle, and in it were +gold and silver dishes: she had carried them off from the devils. +The merchant looked at them and said:</p> + +<p>“Ah! those are my dishes. One day I was feasting with my +guests, and when I got drunk I became angry with my wife. ‘To +the devil with you!’ I exclaimed, and began flinging from the +table, and beyond the threshold, whatever I could lay my hands +upon. At that moment my dishes disappeared!”</p> + +<p>And in reality so had it happened. When the merchant +mentioned the devil’s name, the fiend immediately appeared at +the threshold, began seizing the gold and silver wares, and +flinging in their place bits of pottery.</p> + +<p>Well, by this accident the youth got himself a capital bride. +And after he had married her he went back to his parents. +They had long ago counted him as lost to them for ever. +And indeed it was no subject for jesting; he had been away +from home three whole years, and yet it seemed to him that +he had not in all spent more than twenty-four hours with the +devils.</p> +</div> + +<div class="note"> +<p style="padding-top: 1.25em;">[A quaint version of the legend on which this story is founded is given by Gervase +of Tilbury in his “Otia Imperialia,” whence the story passed into the “Gesta +Romanorum” (<ins class="correction" title="cap. in original">chap.</ins> clxii.) and spread widely over mediæval Europe. A certain +Catalonian was so much annoyed one day “by the continued and inappeasable crying +of his little daughter, that he commended her to the demons.” Whereupon she was +immediately carried off. Seven years after this, he learnt (from a man placed by a +similar imprecation in the power of the demons, who used him as a vehicle) that his +daughter was in the interior of a neighboring mountain, and might be recovered if he +would demand her. So he ascended to the summit of the mountain, and there claimed +his child. She straightway appeared in miserable plight, “arida, tetra, oculis vagis, +ossibus et nervis et pellibus vix hærentibus,” etc. By the judicious care, however, +of her now cautious parent she was restored to physical and moral respectability. +For some valuable observations on this story see Liebrecht’s edition of the “Otia +Imperialia,” pp. 137-9. In the German story of “Die sieben Raben” (Grimm, +No. 25) a father’s “hasty word” turns his six sons into ravens.]</p></div> + +<p>When devils are introduced into a story of this class, +it always assumes a grotesque, if not an absolutely comic +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> +air. The evil spirits are almost always duped and defeated, +and that result is generally due to their remarkable +want of intelligence. For they display in their dealings +with their human antagonists a deficiency of intellectual +power which almost amounts to imbecility. The explanation +of this appears to be that the devils of European folk-lore +have nothing in common with the rebellious angels of +Miltonic theology beyond their vague denomination; nor +can any but a nominal resemblance be traced between +their chiefs or “grandfathers” and the thunder-smitten +but still majestic “Lucifer, Son of the Morning.” The +demon rabble of “Popular Tales” are merely the lubber +fiends of heathen mythology, beings endowed with supernatural +might, but scantily provided with mental power; +all of terrific manual clutch, but of weak intellectual grasp. +And so the hardy mortal who measures his powers against +theirs, even in those cases in which his strength has not +been intensified by miraculous agencies, easily overcomes +or deludes the slow-witted monsters with whom he strives—whether +his antagonist be a Celtic or Teutonic Giant, or +a French Ogre, or a Norse Troll, or a Greek Drakos or +Lamia, or a Lithuanian Laume, or a Russian Snake or +Koshchei or Baba Yaga, or an Indian Rákshasa or Pisácha, +or any other member of the many species of fiends for +which, in Christian parlance, the generic name is that of +“devils.”</p> + +<p>There is no great richness of invention manifested in +the stories which deal with the outwitting of evil spirits. +The same devices are in almost all cases resorted to, and +their effect is invariable. The leading characters undergo +certain transmutations as the scene of the story is shifted, +but their mutual relations remain constant. Thus, in a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> +German story<a name="FNanchor_474_474" id="FNanchor_474_474"></a><a href="#Footnote_474_474" class="fnanchor">[474]</a> we find a schoolmaster deceiving the +devil; in one of its Slavonic counterparts<a name="FNanchor_475_475" id="FNanchor_475_475"></a><a href="#Footnote_475_475" class="fnanchor">[475]</a> a gypsy deludes +a snake; in another, current among the Baltic Kashoubes, +in place of the snake figures a giant so huge that +the thumb of his glove serves as a shelter for the hero of +the tale—one which is closely connected with that which +tells of Thor and the giant Skrymir.</p> + +<p>The Russian stories in which devils are tricked by +mortals closely resemble, for the most part, those which +are current in so many parts of Europe. The hero of the +tale squeezes whey out of a piece of cheese or curd which +he passes off as a stone; he induces the fleet demon to +compete with his “Hop o’ my Thumb” the hare; he sets +the strong demon to wrestle with his “greybeard” the +bear; he frightens the “grandfather” of the fiends by +proposing to fling that potentate’s magic staff so high in +the air that it will never come down; and he persuades +his diabolical opponents to keep pouring gold into a perforated +hat or sack. Sometimes, however, a less familiar +incident occurs. Thus in a story from the Tambof Government, +Zachary the Unlucky is sent by the tailor, his +master, to fetch a fiddle from a wolf-fiend. The demon +agrees to let him have it on condition that he spends three +years in continually weaving nets without ever going to +sleep. Zachary sets to work, but at the end of a month +he grows drowsy. The wolf asks if he is asleep. “No, +I’m not asleep,” he replies; “but I’m thinking which fish +there are most of in the river—big ones or little ones.” +The wolf offers to go and enquire, and spends three or +four months in solving the problem. Meanwhile Zachary +sleeps, taking care, however, to be up and at work when +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> +the wolf returns to say that the big fishes are in the majority.</p> + +<p>Time passes, and again Zachary begins to nod. The +wolf enquires if he has gone to sleep, but is told that he +is awake, but engrossed by the question as to “which folks +are there most of in the world—the living or the dead.” +The wolf goes out to count them, and Zachary sleeps in +comfort, till just before it comes back to say that the living +are more numerous than the dead. By the time the wolf-fiend +has made a third journey in order to settle a doubt +which Zachary describes as weighing on his mind—as to +the numerical relation of the large beasts to the small—the +three years have passed away. So the wolf-fiend is +obliged to part with his fiddle, and Zachary carries it back +to the tailor in triumph.<a name="FNanchor_476_476" id="FNanchor_476_476"></a><a href="#Footnote_476_476" class="fnanchor">[476]</a></p> + +<p>The demons not unfrequently show themselves capable +of being actuated by gratitude. Thus, as we have already +seen, the story of the Awful Drunkard<a name="FNanchor_477_477" id="FNanchor_477_477"></a><a href="#Footnote_477_477" class="fnanchor">[477]</a> represents the +devil himself as being grateful to a man who has rebuked +an irascible old woman for unjustly blaming the Prince of +Darkness. In a skazka from the Orenburg Government, +a lad named Vanka [Jack] is set to watch his father’s +turnip-field by night. Presently comes a boy who fills two +huge sacks with turnips, and vainly tries to carry them off. +While he is tugging away at them he catches sight of +Vanka, and immediately asks him to help him home with +his load. Vanka consents, and carries the turnips to a +cottage, wherein is seated “an old greybeard with horns +on his head,” who receives him kindly and offers him a +quantity of gold as a recompense for his trouble. But, +acting on the instructions he has received from the boy, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> +Vanka will take nothing but the greybeard’s lute, the +sounds of which exercise a magic power over all living +creatures.<a name="FNanchor_478_478" id="FNanchor_478_478"></a><a href="#Footnote_478_478" class="fnanchor">[478]</a></p> + +<p>One of the most interesting of the stories of this class +is that of the man who unwittingly blesses the devil. As +a specimen of its numerous variants we may take the opening +of a skazka respecting the origin of brandy.</p> + +<p>“There was a moujik who had a wife and seven children, +and one day he got ready to go afield, to plough. +When his horse was harnessed, and everything ready, he +ran indoors to get some bread; but when he got there, +and looked in the cupboard, there was nothing there but +a single crust. This he carried off bodily and drove +away.</p> + +<p>“He reached his field and began ploughing. When +he had ploughed up half of it, he unharnessed his horse +and turned it out to graze. After that he was just going +to eat the bread, when he said to himself,</p> + +<p>“‘Why didn’t I leave this crust for my children?’</p> + +<p>“So after thinking about it for awhile, he set it aside.</p> + +<p>“Presently a little demon came sidling up and carried +off the bread. The moujik returned and looked about +everywhere, but no bread was to be seen. However, all +he said was, ‘God be with him who took it!’</p> + +<p>“The little demon<a name="FNanchor_479_479" id="FNanchor_479_479"></a><a href="#Footnote_479_479" class="fnanchor">[479]</a> ran off to the devil,<a name="FNanchor_480_480" id="FNanchor_480_480"></a><a href="#Footnote_480_480" class="fnanchor">[480]</a> and cried:</p> + +<p>“‘Grandfather! I’ve stolen Uncle Sidor’s<a name="FNanchor_481_481" id="FNanchor_481_481"></a><a href="#Footnote_481_481" class="fnanchor">[481]</a> bread!’</p> + +<p>“‘Well, what did he say?’</p> + +<p>“‘He said, “God be with him!”’</p> + +<p>“‘Be off with you!’ says the devil. ‘Hire <ins class="correction" title="youself in original">yourself</ins> to +him for three years.’</p> + +<p>“So the little demon ran back to the moujik.”</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span> +The rest of the story tells how the imp taught Isidore +to make corn-brandy, and worked for him a long time +faithfully. But at last one day Isidore drank so much +brandy that he fell into a drunken sleep. From this he +was roused by the imp, whereupon he exclaimed in a rage, +“Go to the Devil!” and straightway the “little demon” +disappeared.<a name="FNanchor_482_482" id="FNanchor_482_482"></a><a href="#Footnote_482_482" class="fnanchor">[482]</a></p> + +<p>In another version of the story,<a name="FNanchor_483_483" id="FNanchor_483_483"></a><a href="#Footnote_483_483" class="fnanchor">[483]</a> when the peasant +finds that his crust has disappeared, he exclaims—</p> + +<p>“Here’s a wonder! I’ve seen nobody, and yet somebody +has carried off my crust! Well, here’s good luck to +him!<a name="FNanchor_484_484" id="FNanchor_484_484"></a><a href="#Footnote_484_484" class="fnanchor">[484]</a> I daresay I shall starve to death.”</p> + +<p>When Satan heard what had taken place, he ordered +that the peasant’s crust should be restored. So the demon +who had stolen it “turned himself into a good youth,” and +became the peasant’s hireling. When a drought was impending, +he scattered the peasant’s seed-corn over a +swamp; when a wet season was at hand, he sowed the +slopes of the hills. In each instance his forethought enabled +his master to fill his barns while the other peasants +lost their crops.</p> + +<div class="note"> +<p>[A Moravian version of this tale will be found in “Der schwarze Knirps” (Wenzig, +No. 15, p. 67). In another Moravian story in the same collection (No. 8) entitled +“Der böse Geist im Dienste,” an evil spirit steals the food which a man had left +outside his house for poor passers by. When the demon returns to hell he finds its +gates closed, and he is informed by “the oldest of the devils,” that he must expiate +his crime by a three years’ service on earth.</p> + +<p>A striking parallel to the Russian and the former of the Moravian stories is offered +by “a legend of serpent worship,” from Bhaunagar in Káthiáwád. A certain king +had seven wives, one of whom was badly treated. Feeling hungry one day, she +scraped out of the pots which had been given her to wash some remains of rice boiled +in milk, set the food on one side, and then went to bathe. During her absence a +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> +female Nága (or supernatural snake-being) ate up the rice, and then “entering her +hole, sat there, resolved to bite the woman if she should curse her, but not otherwise.” +When the woman returned, and found her meal had been stolen, she did not lose her +temper, but only said, “May the stomach of the eater be cooled!” When the Nága +heard this, she emerged from her hole and said, “Well done! I now regard you as +my daughter,” etc. (From the “Indian Antiquary,” Bombay, No. 1, 1872, pp. 6, 7.)]</p></div> + +<p>Sometimes the demon of the <i>legenda</i> bears a close resemblance +to the snake of the <i>skazka</i>. Thus, an evil spirit +is described as coming every night at twelve o’clock to the +chamber of a certain princess, and giving her no rest till +the dawn of day. A soldier—the fairy prince in a lower +form—comes to her rescue, and awaits the arrival of the +fiend in her room, which he has had brilliantly lighted. +Exactly at midnight up flies the evil spirit, assumes the +form of a man, and tries to enter the room. But he is +stopped by the soldier, who persuades him to play cards +with him for fillips, tricks him in various ways, and fillips +him to such effect with a species of “three-man beetle,” +that the demon beats a hasty retreat.</p> + +<p>The next night Satan sends another devil to the palace. +The result is the same as before, and the process is repeated +every night for a whole month. At the end of that +time “Grandfather Satan” himself confronts the soldier, +but he receives so tremendous a beating that he flies back +howling “to his swamp.” After a time, the soldier induces +the whole of the fiendish party to enter his knapsack, prevents +them from getting out again by signing it with a +cross, and then has it thumped on an anvil to his heart’s +content. Afterwards he carries it about on his back, the +fiends remaining under it all the while. But at last some +women open it, during his absence from a cottage in which +he has left it, and out rush the fiends with a crash and a +roar. Meeting the soldier on his way back to the cottage, +they are so frightened that they fling themselves into the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span> +pool below a mill-wheel; and there, the story declares, +they still remain.<a name="FNanchor_485_485" id="FNanchor_485_485"></a><a href="#Footnote_485_485" class="fnanchor">[485]</a></p> + +<p>This “legend” is evidently nothing more than an adaptation +of one of the tales about the dull demons of olden +times, whom the Christian story-teller has transformed into +Satan and his subject fiends.</p> + +<p>By way of a conclusion to this chapter—which might +be expanded indefinitely, so numerous are the stories of +the class of which it treats—we will take the moral tale of +“The Gossip’s Bedstead.”<a name="FNanchor_486_486" id="FNanchor_486_486"></a><a href="#Footnote_486_486" class="fnanchor">[486]</a> A certain peasant, it relates, +was so poor that, in order to save himself from starvation, +he took to sorcery. After a time he became an adept in +the black art, and contracted an intimate acquaintance +with the fiendish races. When his son had reached man’s +estate, the peasant saw it was necessary to find him a +bride, so he set out to seek one among “his friends the +devils.” On arriving in their realm he soon found what +he wanted, in the person of a girl who had drunk herself +to death, and who, in common with other women who had +died of drink, was employed by the devils as a water +carrier. Her employers at once agreed to give her in +marriage to the son of their friend, and a wedding feast +was instantly prepared. While the consequent revelry was +in progress, Satan offered to present to the bridegroom a +receipt which a father had given to the devils when he +sold them his son. But when the receipt was sought for—the +production of which would have enabled the bridegroom +to claim the youth in question as his slave—it could +not be found; a certain devil had carried it off, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> +refused to say where he had hidden it. In vain did his +master cause him to be beaten with iron clubs, he remained +obstinately mute. At length Satan exclaimed—</p> + +<p>“Stretch him on the Gossip’s Bedstead!”</p> + +<p>As soon as the refractory devil heard these words, he +was so frightened that he surrendered the receipt, which +was handed over to the visitor. Astonished at the result, +the peasant enquired what sort of bedstead that was which +had been mentioned with so much effect.</p> + +<p>“Well, I’ll tell you, but don’t you tell anyone else,” +replied Satan, after hesitating for a time. “That bedstead +is made for us devils, and for our relations, connexions, +and gossips. It is all on fire, and it runs on wheels, and +turns round and round.”</p> + +<p>When the peasant heard this, fear came upon him, and +he jumped up from his seat and fled away as fast as he +could.</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>At this point, though much still remains to be said, I +will for the present bring my remarks to a close. Incomplete +as is the account I have given of the Skazkas, it may +yet, I trust, be of use to students who wish to compare as +many types as possible of the Popular Tale. I shall be +glad if it proves of service to them. I shall be still more +glad if I succeed in interesting the general reader in the +tales of the Russian People, and through them, in the lives +of those Russian men and women of low degree who are +wont to tell them, those Russian children who love to hear +them.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_424_424" id="Footnote_424_424"></a><a href="#FNanchor_424_424"><span class="label">[424]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, p. 6.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_425_425" id="Footnote_425_425"></a><a href="#FNanchor_425_425"><span class="label">[425]</span></a> These two stories are quoted by Buslaef, in a valuable essay on “The Russian +Popular Epos.” “Ist. Och.” i. 438. Another tradition states that the dog was +originally “naked,” <i>i.e.</i>, without hair; but the devil, in order to seduce it from its +loyalty, gave it a <i>shuba</i>, or pelisse, <i>i.e.</i>, a coat of hair.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_426_426" id="Footnote_426_426"></a><a href="#FNanchor_426_426"><span class="label">[426]</span></a> Buslaef, “Ist. Och,” i. 147, where the Teutonic equivalents are given.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_427_427" id="Footnote_427_427"></a><a href="#FNanchor_427_427"><span class="label">[427]</span></a> Tereshchenko, v. 48. For a German version of the story, see the <i>KM.</i>, No. +124, “Die Kornähre.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_428_428" id="Footnote_428_428"></a><a href="#FNanchor_428_428"><span class="label">[428]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> i. 482.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_429_429" id="Footnote_429_429"></a><a href="#FNanchor_429_429"><span class="label">[429]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, p. 19.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_430_430" id="Footnote_430_430"></a><a href="#FNanchor_430_430"><span class="label">[430]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Tereschenko in original">Tereshchenko</ins>, v. p. 45. Some of these legends have been translated by O. von. +Reinsberg-Düringsfeld in the “Ausland,” Dec. 9, 1872.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_431_431" id="Footnote_431_431"></a><a href="#FNanchor_431_431"><span class="label">[431]</span></a> According to a Bohemian legend the Devil created the mouse, that it might +destroy “God’s corn,” whereupon the Lord created the cat.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_432_432" id="Footnote_432_432"></a><a href="#FNanchor_432_432"><span class="label">[432]</span></a> <i>Pit’</i>, = to drink.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_433_433" id="Footnote_433_433"></a><a href="#FNanchor_433_433"><span class="label">[433]</span></a> <ins class="correction" title="Tereschenko in original">Tereshchenko</ins>, v. 47.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_434_434" id="Footnote_434_434"></a><a href="#FNanchor_434_434"><span class="label">[434]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, p. 13.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_435_435" id="Footnote_435_435"></a><a href="#FNanchor_435_435"><span class="label">[435]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 3. From the Voroneje Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_436_436" id="Footnote_436_436"></a><a href="#FNanchor_436_436"><span class="label">[436]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 8.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_437_437" id="Footnote_437_437"></a><a href="#FNanchor_437_437"><span class="label">[437]</span></a> Who thus becomes his “brother of the cross.” This cross-brothership is considered +a close spiritual affinity.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_438_438" id="Footnote_438_438"></a><a href="#FNanchor_438_438"><span class="label">[438]</span></a> Afanasief, in his notes to this story, gives several of its variants. The rewards and +punishments awarded in a future life form the theme of a great number of moral parables, +apparently of Oriental extraction. For an interesting parallel from the Neilgherry +Hills, see Gover’s “Folk-Songs of Southern India,” pp. 81-7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_439_439" id="Footnote_439_439"></a><a href="#FNanchor_439_439"><span class="label">[439]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 7.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_440_440" id="Footnote_440_440"></a><a href="#FNanchor_440_440"><span class="label">[440]</span></a> The icona, <ins class="greek" title="eikôn">ἐικών</ins> or holy picture.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_441_441" id="Footnote_441_441"></a><a href="#FNanchor_441_441"><span class="label">[441]</span></a> For some account of Perun—the Lithuanian Perkunas—whose name and attributes +appear to be closely connected with those of the Indian Parjanya, see the +“Songs of the Russian Nation,” pp. 86-102.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_442_442" id="Footnote_442_442"></a><a href="#FNanchor_442_442"><span class="label">[442]</span></a> A Servian song, for instance, quoted by Buslaef (“Ist. Och.” i. 361) states that +“The Thunder” (<i>i.e.</i>, the Thunder-God or Perun) “began to divide gifts. To God +(<i>Bogu</i>) it gave the heavenly heights; to St. Peter the summer” (<i>Petrovskie</i> so called +after the Saint) “heats; to St. John, the ice and snow; to Nicholas, power over the +waters, and to Ilya the lightning and the thunderbolt.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_443_443" id="Footnote_443_443"></a><a href="#FNanchor_443_443"><span class="label">[443]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, pp. 137-40, <i>P.V.S.</i>, i. 469-83. Cf. Grimm’s “Deutsche +Mythologie,” pp. 157-59.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_444_444" id="Footnote_444_444"></a><a href="#FNanchor_444_444"><span class="label">[444]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 10. From the Yaroslaf Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_445_445" id="Footnote_445_445"></a><a href="#FNanchor_445_445"><span class="label">[445]</span></a> <i><ins class="correction" title="Il’inskomy in original">Il’inskomu</ins> bat’kye</i>—to the Elijah father.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_446_446" id="Footnote_446_446"></a><a href="#FNanchor_446_446"><span class="label">[446]</span></a> Strictly speaking, a <i>chetverìk</i> = 5.775 gallons.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_447_447" id="Footnote_447_447"></a><a href="#FNanchor_447_447"><span class="label">[447]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i>, iii. 455.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_448_448" id="Footnote_448_448"></a><a href="#FNanchor_448_448"><span class="label">[448]</span></a> Called <i>Lisun</i>, <i>Lisovik</i>, <i>Polisun</i>, &c. He answers to the <i>Lyeshy</i> or wood-demon +(<i>lyes</i> = a forest) mentioned above, p. <a href="#Page_212"><ins class="correction" title="206 in original">212</ins></a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_449_449" id="Footnote_449_449"></a><a href="#FNanchor_449_449"><span class="label">[449]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> i. 711.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_450_450" id="Footnote_450_450"></a><a href="#FNanchor_450_450"><span class="label">[450]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 12.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_451_451" id="Footnote_451_451"></a><a href="#FNanchor_451_451"><span class="label">[451]</span></a> Quoted by Buslaef, “Ist. Och.” i. 389. Troyan is also the name of a mythical +king who often figures in Slavonic legends.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_452_452" id="Footnote_452_452"></a><a href="#FNanchor_452_452"><span class="label">[452]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 11. From the Orel district.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_453_453" id="Footnote_453_453"></a><a href="#FNanchor_453_453"><span class="label">[453]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, pp. 141-5. With this story may be compared that of +“The Cross-Surety.” See above, p. <a href="#Page_40"><ins class="correction" title="27 in original">40</ins></a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_454_454" id="Footnote_454_454"></a><a href="#FNanchor_454_454"><span class="label">[454]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 5. From the Archangel Government.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_455_455" id="Footnote_455_455"></a><a href="#FNanchor_455_455"><span class="label">[455]</span></a> <i>Popovskie</i>, from <i>pop</i>, the vulgar name for a priest, the Greek +<ins class="greek" title="pappas">πάππας</ins>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_456_456" id="Footnote_456_456"></a><a href="#FNanchor_456_456"><span class="label">[456]</span></a> The <i>prosvirka</i>, or <i>prosfora</i>, is a small loaf, made of fine wheat flour. It is +used for the communion service, but before consecration it is freely sold and purchased.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_457_457" id="Footnote_457_457"></a><a href="#FNanchor_457_457"><span class="label">[457]</span></a> A few lines are here omitted as being superfluous. In the original the second +princess is cured exactly as the first had been. The doctors then proceed to a third +country, where they find precisely the same position of affairs.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_458_458" id="Footnote_458_458"></a><a href="#FNanchor_458_458"><span class="label">[458]</span></a> <i>Byely</i> = white. See the “Songs of the Russian People,” p. 103, the “Deutsche +Mythologie,” p. 203.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_459_459" id="Footnote_459_459"></a><a href="#FNanchor_459_459"><span class="label">[459]</span></a> <i>Shchob tebe chorny bog ubif!</i> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i>, i. 93, 94.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_460_460" id="Footnote_460_460"></a><a href="#FNanchor_460_460"><span class="label">[460]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> iii. 314, 315.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_461_461" id="Footnote_461_461"></a><a href="#FNanchor_461_461"><span class="label">[461]</span></a> <i>Lemboï</i>, perhaps a Samoyed word.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_462_462" id="Footnote_462_462"></a><a href="#FNanchor_462_462"><span class="label">[462]</span></a> <i>Lemboi te (tebya) voz’mi!</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_463_463" id="Footnote_463_463"></a><a href="#FNanchor_463_463"><span class="label">[463]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> iii. pp. 314, 315.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_464_464" id="Footnote_464_464"></a><a href="#FNanchor_464_464"><span class="label">[464]</span></a> <i><ins class="correction" title="apostrophe omitted from original">Prolub’</ins></i> (for <i>prorub’</i>), a hole cut in the ice, and kept open, for the purpose of +getting at the water.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_465_465" id="Footnote_465_465"></a><a href="#FNanchor_465_465"><span class="label">[465]</span></a> <i>Satana.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_466_466" id="Footnote_466_466"></a><a href="#FNanchor_466_466"><span class="label">[466]</span></a> The word by which the husband here designates his wife is <i>zakon</i>, which properly +signifies (1) law, (2) marriage. Here it stands for “spouse.” Satan replies, +“If this be thy <i>zakon</i>, go hence therewith! to sever a <i>zakon</i> is impossible.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_467_467" id="Footnote_467_467"></a><a href="#FNanchor_467_467"><span class="label">[467]</span></a> Abridged from Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i> iii. 315, 316.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_468_468" id="Footnote_468_468"></a><a href="#FNanchor_468_468"><span class="label">[468]</span></a> See the notes in Grimm’s <i>KM.</i> Bd. iii. to stories 100 and 101.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_469_469" id="Footnote_469_469"></a><a href="#FNanchor_469_469"><span class="label">[469]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 26.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_470_470" id="Footnote_470_470"></a><a href="#FNanchor_470_470"><span class="label">[470]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 48.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_471_471" id="Footnote_471_471"></a><a href="#FNanchor_471_471"><span class="label">[471]</span></a> “Entered upon his matured years,” from 17 to 21.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_472_472" id="Footnote_472_472"></a><a href="#FNanchor_472_472"><span class="label">[472]</span></a> The sleeping-place.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_473_473" id="Footnote_473_473"></a><a href="#FNanchor_473_473"><span class="label">[473]</span></a> Literally, “to all the four sides.”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_474_474" id="Footnote_474_474"></a><a href="#FNanchor_474_474"><span class="label">[474]</span></a> Haltrich, No. 27.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_475_475" id="Footnote_475_475"></a><a href="#FNanchor_475_475"><span class="label">[475]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 25.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_476_476" id="Footnote_476_476"></a><a href="#FNanchor_476_476"><span class="label">[476]</span></a> Khudyakof, No. 114.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_477_477" id="Footnote_477_477"></a><a href="#FNanchor_477_477"><span class="label">[477]</span></a> Chap. i. p. <a href="#Page_46">46</a>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_478_478" id="Footnote_478_478"></a><a href="#FNanchor_478_478"><span class="label">[478]</span></a> Afanasief, vii., No. 14.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_479_479" id="Footnote_479_479"></a><a href="#FNanchor_479_479"><span class="label">[479]</span></a> <i>Byesenok</i>, diminutive of <i>Byes</i>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_480_480" id="Footnote_480_480"></a><a href="#FNanchor_480_480"><span class="label">[480]</span></a> <i>Chort.</i></p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_481_481" id="Footnote_481_481"></a><a href="#FNanchor_481_481"><span class="label">[481]</span></a> Isidore.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_482_482" id="Footnote_482_482"></a><a href="#FNanchor_482_482"><span class="label">[482]</span></a> Erlenvein, No. 33. From the Tula <ins class="correction" title="Governmen in original">Government</ins>.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_483_483" id="Footnote_483_483"></a><a href="#FNanchor_483_483"><span class="label">[483]</span></a> Quoted from Borichefsky, by Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, p. 182.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_484_484" id="Footnote_484_484"></a><a href="#FNanchor_484_484"><span class="label">[484]</span></a> <i>Emy na zdorovie!</i> “Good health to him!”</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_485_485" id="Footnote_485_485"></a><a href="#FNanchor_485_485"><span class="label">[485]</span></a> Afanasief, v. No. 43.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_486_486" id="Footnote_486_486"></a><a href="#FNanchor_486_486"><span class="label">[486]</span></a> Afanasief, <i>Legendui</i>, No. 27. From the Saratof Government. This story is +merely one of the numerous Slavonic variants of a tale <ins class="correction" title="familar in original">familiar</ins> to many lands.</p></div> +</div> + + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span></p><hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>INDEX.</h2> + +<p class="center"><br /> +<a href="#A">A</a> <a href="#B">B</a> <a href="#C">C</a> +<a href="#D">D</a> <a href="#E">E</a> <a href="#F">F</a> +<a href="#G">G</a> <a href="#H">H</a> <a href="#I">I</a> +<a href="#K">K</a> <a href="#L">L</a> <a href="#M">M</a> +<a href="#N">N</a> <a href="#O">O</a> <a href="#P">P</a> +<a href="#R">R</a> <a href="#S">S</a> <a href="#T">T</a> +<a href="#U">U</a> <a href="#V">V</a> <a href="#W">W</a> +<a href="#Y">Y</a> <a href="#Z">Z</a></p> + +<p><a name="A" id="A"></a><br /> +Ad, or Hades, <a href="#Page_303">303</a><br /> +Anepou and Satou, story of, <a href="#Page_122">122</a><br /> +Andrew, St., legend about, <a href="#Page_348">348</a><br /> +Arimaspians, <a href="#Page_190">190</a><br /> +Awful Drunkard, story of the, <a href="#Page_46">46</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="B" id="B"></a><br /> +Baba Yaga, her name and nature, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stories about, <a href="#Page_103">103-107</a>, <a href="#Page_148">148-166</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254-256</a></span><br /> +Back, cutting strips from, <a href="#Page_155">155</a><br /> +Bad Wife, story of the, <a href="#Page_52">52</a><br /> +Beanstalk stories, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>, <a href="#Page_296">296</a><br /> +Beer and Corn, legend of, <a href="#Page_339">339</a><br /> +Birds, legends about, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +Blind Man and Cripple, story of the, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +Bluebeard’s Chamber, <a href="#Page_109">109</a><br /> +Brandy, legend about origin of, <a href="#Page_378">378</a><br /> +Bridge-building incident, <a href="#Page_306">306</a><br /> +Brothers, enmity between, <a href="#Page_93">93</a><br /> +Brushes, magic, <a href="#Page_151">151</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="C" id="C"></a><br /> +Cat, Whittington’s, <a href="#Page_56">56</a><br /> +Chort, or devil, <a href="#Page_35">35</a><br /> +Christ’s Brother, legend of, <a href="#Page_338">338</a><br /> +Chudo Morskoe, or water monster, <a href="#Page_143">143</a><br /> +Chudo Yudo, a many-headed monster, <a href="#Page_83">83</a><br /> +Clergy: their bad reputation in folk-tales, <a href="#Page_40">40</a><br /> +Coffin Lid, story of the, <a href="#Page_314">314</a><br /> +Combs, magic, <a href="#Page_151">151</a><br /> +Creation of Man, legends about, <a href="#Page_330">330</a><br /> +Cross Surety, story of the, <a href="#Page_40">40</a><br /> +Curses, legends about, <a href="#Page_363">363</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="D" id="D"></a><br /> +Days of the Week, legends about, <a href="#Page_206">206-212</a><br /> +Dead Mother, story of the, <a href="#Page_32">32</a><br /> +Demons: part played in the Skazkas by, <a href="#Page_361">361</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">souls of babes stolen by, <a href="#Page_363">363</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">legends about children devoted to, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">about persons who give themselves to, <a href="#Page_367">367</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dulness of, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">tricks played upon, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">gratitude of, <a href="#Page_377">377</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">resemblance of to snakes, <a href="#Page_380">380</a></span><br /> +Devil, legends about, <a href="#Page_330">330</a>, <a href="#Page_331">331</a>, <a href="#Page_333">333</a><br /> +Dnieper, Volga, and Dvina, story of the, <a href="#Page_217">217</a><br /> +Dog, legends about, <a href="#Page_330">330-332</a><br /> +Dog and Corpse, story of the, <a href="#Page_317"><ins class="correction" title="316 in original">317</ins></a><br /> +Dolls, or puppets, magic, <a href="#Page_167">167-169</a><br /> +Don and Shat, story of the rivers, <a href="#Page_215">215</a><br /> +Drink, Russian peasant’s love of, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stories about, <a href="#Page_48">48</a></span><br /> +Durak, or Ninny, stories about, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="E" id="E"></a><br /> +Eggs, lives of mythical beings connected with, <a href="#Page_119">119-124</a><br /> +Elijah, traditions about, <a href="#Page_341">341-343</a><br /> +Elijah and Nicholas, legend of, <a href="#Page_344">344</a><br /> +Emilian the Fool, story of, <a href="#Page_269">269</a><br /> +Evil, personified, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="F" id="F"></a><br /> +Fiddler in Hell, story of the, <a href="#Page_303">303</a><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> +Fiend, story of the, <a href="#Page_24">24</a><br /> +Fool and Birch-tree, story of the, <a href="#Page_62">62</a><br /> +Fools, stories about, <a href="#Page_62">62</a><br /> +Fortune, stories about, <a href="#Page_203">203</a><br /> +Fox-Physician, story of the, <a href="#Page_296">296</a><br /> +Fox-Wailer, story of the, <a href="#Page_35">35</a><br /> +Friday, legend of, <a href="#Page_207">207</a><br /> +Frost, story of, <a href="#Page_221">221</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="G" id="G"></a><br /> +George, St., legends about, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Wolves and, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Gypsy and, <a href="#Page_350">350</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the people of Troyan and, <a href="#Page_351">351</a></span><br /> +Ghost stories, <a href="#Page_295">295-328</a><br /> +Gold-Men, <a href="#Page_231">231</a><br /> +Golden Bird, the <i>Zhar-Ptitsa</i> or, <a href="#Page_291">291</a><br /> +Golovikha, or Mayoress, story of the, <a href="#Page_55">55</a><br /> +Goré, or Woe, story of, <a href="#Page_192">192</a><br /> +Gossip’s Bedstead, story of the, <a href="#Page_381">381</a><br /> +Gravestone, story of the Ride on the, <a href="#Page_308">308</a><br /> +Greece, Vampires in, <a href="#Page_323">323</a><br /> +Gypsy, story of St. George and the, <a href="#Page_350">350</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="H" id="H"></a><br /> +Hades, <a href="#Page_303">303</a><br /> +Hasty Word, story of the, <a href="#Page_370">370</a><br /> +Head, story of the trunkless, <a href="#Page_230">230</a><br /> +Headless Princess, story of the, <a href="#Page_276">276</a><br /> +Heaven-tree Myth, <a href="#Page_298">298</a><br /> +Helena the Fair, story of, <a href="#Page_262">262</a><br /> +Hell, story of the Fiddler in, <a href="#Page_303">303</a><br /> +Hills, legend of creation of, <a href="#Page_333">333</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="I" id="I"></a><br /> +Ivan Popyalof, story of, <a href="#Page_79">79</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="K" id="K"></a><br /> +Katoma, story of, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +Koshchei the Deathless, stories of, <a href="#Page_96">96-115</a><br /> +Kruchìna, or Grief, <a href="#Page_201">201</a><br /> +Kuzma and Demian, the holy Smiths, <a href="#Page_82">82</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="L" id="L"></a><br /> +Lame and Blind Heroes, story of the, <a href="#Page_246">246</a><br /> +Laments for the dead, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> +Leap, bride won by a, <a href="#Page_266">266-269</a><br /> +Legends, <a href="#Page_329">329-382</a><br /> +Léshy, or Wood-demon, story of the, <a href="#Page_213">213</a><br /> +Life, Water of, <a href="#Page_237">237</a><br /> +Likho the One-Eyed, story of, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br /> +Luck, stories about, <a href="#Page_203">203-206</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="M" id="M"></a><br /> +Marya Morevna, story of, <a href="#Page_97">97</a><br /> +Medea’s Cauldron incident, <a href="#Page_359">359</a>, <a href="#Page_368">368</a><br /> +Miser, story of the, <a href="#Page_60">60</a><br /> +Mizgir, or Spider, story of the, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +Morfei the Cook, story of, <a href="#Page_234">234</a><br /> +Mouse, legends about the, <a href="#Page_334">334</a><br /> +Mythology, &c. Personifications of Good and Evil, <a href="#Page_77">77</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Snake, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Daylight eclipsed by a Snake, <a href="#Page_81">81</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Chudo-Yudo, <a href="#Page_83">83</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Norka-Beast, <a href="#Page_86">86</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Usuinya-Bird, <a href="#Page_95">95</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Koshchei the Deathless, <a href="#Page_96">96-116</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Bluebeard’s Chamber myth, <a href="#Page_109">109</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stories about external hearts and fatal eggs, &c., <a href="#Page_119">119-124</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Water Snake, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Tsar Morskoi or Water King, <a href="#Page_130">130-141</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the King Bear, <a href="#Page_142">142</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Water-Chudo, <a href="#Page_143">143</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Idol, <a href="#Page_144">144</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Female embodiments of Evil, <a href="#Page_146">146</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Baba Yaga, <a href="#Page_146">146-166</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">magic dolls or puppets, <a href="#Page_167">167</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the story of Verlioka, <a href="#Page_170">170</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Supernatural Witch, <a href="#Page_170">170-183</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The Sun’s Sister and the Dawn, <a href="#Page_178">178-185</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Likho or Evil, <a href="#Page_186">186-187</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Polyphemus and the Arimaspians, <a href="#Page_190">190</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Goré or Woe, <a href="#Page_192">192</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nuzhda or Need, <a href="#Page_199">199</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Kruchìna or Grief, <a href="#Page_201">201</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Zluidni, <a href="#Page_201"><ins class="correction" title="194 in original">201</ins></a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stories about Luck, <a href="#Page_203">203-206</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Friday, <a href="#Page_206">206</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Wednesday, <a href="#Page_208">208</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Sunday, <a href="#Page_211">211</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Léshy or Woodsprite, <a href="#Page_213">213</a>;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stories about Rivers, <a href="#Page_215">215-221</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">about Frost, <a href="#Page_221">221</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">about the Whirlwind, <a href="#Page_232">232</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Morfei, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Oh! the, <a href="#Page_235">235</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Waters of Life and Death, <a href="#Page_237">237-242</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Symplêgades, <a href="#Page_242"><ins class="correction" title="243 in original">242</ins></a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Waters of Strength and Weakness, <a href="#Page_243">243-245</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Magic Horses, <a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_264">264</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a Magic Pike, <a href="#Page_269">269-273</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Witchcraft stories, <a href="#Page_273">273-295</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the Zhar-Ptitsa or Glow-Bird, <a href="#Page_289">289-292</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">upper-world ideas, <a href="#Page_296">296</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">the heaven-tree myth, <a href="#Page_296">296-302</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">lower-world ideas, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ghost-stories, <a href="#Page_308">308</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">stories about Vampires, <a href="#Page_313">313-322</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">home and origin of Vampirism, <a href="#Page_323">323-328</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">legends about Saints, the Devil, &c., <a href="#Page_329">329</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Perun, the thunder-god, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">superstitions about <ins class="correction" title="lighting in original">lightning</ins>, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">legends about St. George and the Wolves, <a href="#Page_349">349</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">old Slavonian gods changed into demons, <a href="#Page_362">362</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">power attributed to curses, <a href="#Page_364">364</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">dulness of demons, <a href="#Page_375">375</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their resemblance to snakes, <a href="#Page_380">380</a></span><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="N" id="N"></a><br /> +National character, how far illustrated by popular tales, <a href="#Page_18">18</a><br /> +Need, story of Nuzhda or, <a href="#Page_199">199</a><br /> +Nicholas, St., legends about, <a href="#Page_343">343</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">his kindness, <a href="#Page_352">352-354</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of the Priest of, <a href="#Page_355">355</a></span><br /> +Nicholas, St., and Elijah, story of, <a href="#Page_343">343</a><br /> +Norka, story of the, <a href="#Page_86">86</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="O" id="O"></a><br /> +Oh! demon named, <a href="#Page_235">235</a><br /> +One-Eyed Likho, story of, <a href="#Page_186">186</a><br /> +One-Eyes, Ukraine legend of, <a href="#Page_190">190</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="P" id="P"></a><br /> +Peewit, legend about the <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +Perun, the thunder-god, <a href="#Page_341">341</a><br /> +Pike, story of a magic, <a href="#Page_269">269</a><br /> +Polyphemus, <a href="#Page_190">190</a><br /> +Poor Widow, story of the, <a href="#Page_336">336</a><br /> +Popes, Russian Priests called, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> +Popular Tales, their meaning &c., <a href="#Page_16">16-18</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">human and supernatural agents in, <a href="#Page_75">75-78</a></span><br /> +Popyalof, story of Ivan, <a href="#Page_79">79</a><br /> +Priest with the Greedy Eyes, story of the, <a href="#Page_355"><ins class="correction" title="255 in original">355</ins></a><br /> +Princess Helena the Fair, story of the, <a href="#Page_262">262</a><br /> +Purchased Wife, story of the, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="R" id="R"></a><br /> +Ride on the Gravestone, story of the, <a href="#Page_308">308</a><br /> +Rip van Winkle story, <a href="#Page_310">310</a><br /> +Rivers, legends about, <a href="#Page_215">215-221</a><br /> +Russian children, appearance of, <a href="#Page_157"><ins class="correction" title="383 in original">157</ins></a><br /> +Russian Peasants;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their dramatic talent, <a href="#Page_19">19</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">pictures of their life contained in folk-tales, <a href="#Page_21">21</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a village soirée, <a href="#Page_24">24</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a courtship, <a href="#Page_31">31</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a death, <a href="#Page_32">32</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">preparations for a funeral, <a href="#Page_33">33</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">wailing over the dead, <a href="#Page_35">35</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">a burial, <a href="#Page_36">36</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">religious feeling of, <a href="#Page_40">40</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">passion for drink, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">humor, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their jokes against women, <a href="#Page_49"><ins class="correction" title="36 in original">49</ins></a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their dislike of avarice, <a href="#Page_59">59</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their jokes about simpletons, <a href="#Page_62">62</a></span><br /> +Rye, legends about, <a href="#Page_332">332</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="S" id="S"></a><br /> +Saints, legends about, <a href="#Page_341">341</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Ilya or Elijah, <a href="#Page_341">341-343</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of Elijah and Nicholas, <a href="#Page_344">344</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">St. Andrew, <a href="#Page_348">348</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">St. George, <a href="#Page_348">348-352</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">St. Nicholas, <a href="#Page_352">352-354</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">St. Kasian, <a href="#Page_352">352</a></span><br /> +Scissors story, <a href="#Page_49">49</a><br /> +Semilétka, story of, <a href="#Page_44">44</a><br /> +Shroud, story of the, <a href="#Page_311">311</a><br /> +Skazkas or Russian folk-tales,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their value as pictures of Russian life, <a href="#Page_19">19-23</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">occurrence of word <i>skazka</i> in, <a href="#Page_23">23</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their openings, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">their endings, <a href="#Page_83">83</a></span><br /> +Smith and the Demon, story of the, <a href="#Page_70">70</a><br /> +Snake, the mythical, his appearance, <a href="#Page_78">78</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of Ivan Popyalof, <a href="#Page_79">79</a>;</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a></span> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">story of the Water Snake, <a href="#Page_126">126</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Snake Husbands, <a href="#Page_129">129</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">legend about the Common Snake, <a href="#Page_334">334</a>;</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">likeness between Snakes and Demons, <a href="#Page_380">380</a></span><br /> +Soldier and Demon, story of, <a href="#Page_380">380</a><br /> +Soldier and the Devil, legend about, <a href="#Page_366">366</a><br /> +Soldier and the Vampire, story of the, <a href="#Page_318">318</a><br /> +Soldier’s Midnight Watch, story of the, <a href="#Page_279">279</a><br /> +Sozh and Dnieper, story of, <a href="#Page_216">216</a><br /> +Sparrow, legends about the, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +Spasibo or Thank You, <a href="#Page_202">202</a><br /> +Spider, story of the, <a href="#Page_68">68</a><br /> +Stakes driven through Vampires, <a href="#Page_326">326-328</a><br /> +Stepmothers, character of, <a href="#Page_94">94</a><br /> +Strength and Weakness, Waters of, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +Suicides and Vampires, <a href="#Page_327">327</a><br /> +Sunday, tales about, <a href="#Page_211">211</a><br /> +Sun’s Sister, <a href="#Page_178">178-182</a><br /> +Swallow, legends about the, <a href="#Page_335">335</a><br /> +Swan Maidens, <a href="#Page_129">129</a><br /> +Symplêgades, <a href="#Page_242"><ins class="correction" title="243 in original">242</ins></a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="T" id="T"></a><br /> +Terema or Upper Chambers, <a href="#Page_182">182</a><br /> +Three Copecks, story of the, <a href="#Page_56">56</a><br /> +Treasure, story of the, <a href="#Page_36">36</a><br /> +Troyan, City of, legend about, <a href="#Page_351">351</a><br /> +Two Corpses, story of the, <a href="#Page_316">316</a><br /> +Two Friends, story of the, <a href="#Page_309">309</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="U" id="U"></a><br /> +Ujak or Snake, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /> +Unwashed, story of the, <a href="#Page_366">366</a><br /> +Usuinya-Bird, <a href="#Page_95">95</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="V" id="V"></a><br /> +Vampires, stories about, <a href="#Page_313">313-322</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">account of the belief in, <a href="#Page_322">322-328</a></span><br /> +Vasilissa the Fair, story of, <a href="#Page_158">158</a><br /> +Vazuza and Volga, story of, <a href="#Page_215">215</a><br /> +Vechernitsa or Village Soirée, <a href="#Page_24">24</a><br /> +Verlioka, story of, <a href="#Page_170">170</a><br /> +Vieszcy, the Kashoube Vampire, <a href="#Page_325">325</a><br /> +Vikhor or the Whirlwind, story of, <a href="#Page_232">232-244</a><br /> +Volga, story of Vazuza and, <a href="#Page_215">215</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">of Dnieper and Dvina and, <a href="#Page_217">217</a></span><br /> +Vy, the Servian, <a href="#Page_84"><ins class="correction" title="83 in original">84</ins></a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="W" id="W"></a><br /> +Warlock, story of the, <a href="#Page_292">292</a><br /> +Water King and Vasilissa the Wise, story of the, <a href="#Page_130"><ins class="correction" title="113 in original">130</ins></a><br /> +Water Snake, story of the, <a href="#Page_126">126</a><br /> +Waters of Life and Death, <a href="#Page_237"><ins class="correction" title="30-237 in original">237-242</ins></a><br /> +Waters of Strength and Weakness, <a href="#Page_243">243</a><br /> +Wednesday, legend of, <a href="#Page_208">208</a><br /> +Week, Days of the, <a href="#Page_206">206-21</a><br /> +Whirlwind, story of the, <a href="#Page_232">232</a><br /> +Whittington’s Cat, <a href="#Page_56">56-58</a><br /> +Wife, story of the Bad, <a href="#Page_49">49</a>;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">about a Good, <a href="#Page_56">56</a></span><br /> +Wife-Gaining Leap, stories of a, <a href="#Page_266">266-269</a><br /> +Witch, story of the, <a href="#Page_171">171</a><br /> +Witch, story of the Dead, <a href="#Page_34">34</a><br /> +Witch and Sun’s Sister, story of the, <a href="#Page_178">178</a><br /> +Witch Girl, story of the, <a href="#Page_274">274</a><br /> +Witchcraft, <a href="#Page_170">170-183</a>, <a href="#Page_273">273-295</a><br /> +Woe, story of, <a href="#Page_193">193</a><br /> +Wolf-fiend, story of a, <a href="#Page_376">376</a><br /> +Wolves, traditions about, <a href="#Page_349">349</a><br /> +Women, jokes about, <a href="#Page_49">49-56</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="Y" id="Y"></a><br /> +Yaga Baba. <i>See</i> <a href="#B">Baba Yaga</a><br /> +Youth, Fountain of, <a href="#Page_72">72</a><br /> +</p> + +<p><a name="Z" id="Z"></a><br /> +Zhar-Ptitsa or Glow Bird, <a href="#Page_289">289-292</a><br /> +Zluidni, malevolent beings called, <a href="#Page_201">201</a><br /> +</p> + +<p> +<br /> +<br /> +<br /> +</p> + + +<div class="bbox" style="font-size: 99%"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></p> + +<p>The frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page. Alphabetic +links have been added to the Index for ease of navigation.</p> + +<p>There are a few Greek words in this text, which may require adjustment of your +browser settings to display correctly. A transliteration of each word is included. +Hover your mouse over words underlined with a <ins class="greek" title="like this">faint +red dashed underline</ins> to see them.</p> + +<p>The footnotes relating to vampires (pp. 323-4) reference modern Greek. In these cases +only, <ins class="greek" title="beta">β</ins> has been transliterated as a v rather than a b.</p> + +<p>There were a very large number of typographic errors in the source edition of +this text. Minor punctuation errors (omitted or incorrect punctuation, mismatched +quote marks etc.) have been amended without note. Regularly used abbreviations +(for example, "Grimm, KM." or "P.V.S.") have been made consistent throughout, +without note. Use of accents have been made consistent throughout without note. +Hyphenation has been made consistent throughout, without note.</p> + +<p>The author uses some alternative spellings—for example, "arn't" rather than "aren't", +"dulness" rather than "dullness", both "shan't" and "sha'n't"—which have +been left unchanged. There are also some unusual grammatical structures in places, +which probably result from the author's intention to render the translations as +literally as possible. These have also been left unchanged.</p> + +<p>The remaining amendments are listed below. All were checked against a later edition of +the book that had been retypeset, and references to other works were additionally +checked against online library catalogues. In the case of proper names, the amendments +were based on other available occurrences of the name in the text. These amendments +are also shown in the text with a <ins class="correction" title="like this">faint +grey dotted underline</ins>. Hover your mouse over these words to see the original +text or a note about the amendment.</p> + +<p class="blockquot"> +Page <a href="#Page_9">9</a>—Khudyayof amended to Khudyakof—"<span class="smcap">Khudyakof</span> (I.A.). ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_9">9</a>, footnote [7]—1 amended to i—"... Afanasief," i. No. 2, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_10">10</a>—Karadjich amended to Karajich—"The name "Karajich" refers to the ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_10">10</a>—Tale amended to Tales—"... the "Popular Tales of the West +Highlands," 4 vols. ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_14">14</a>—page reference for <span class="smcap">The Shroud</span> amended from +351 to 311.<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_14">14</a>—page reference for <span class="smcap">The Dog and the Corpse</span> +amended from 316 to 317.<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_16">16</a>—medieval amended to mediæval—"... a blurred transcript of a page of mediæval +history ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_20">20</a>, footnote [13]—Helen amended to Helena—"... the close of the story of Helena the +Fair ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_32">32</a>—bare amended to bore—"Well, the mistress bore a son ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_37">37</a>—garveyard amended to graveyard—"I’ll go to the graveyard, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_37">37</a>—pack amended to back—"... and hobbled back again ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_41">41</a>—rubles amended to roubles—"... he had gained a hundred and fifty thousand +roubles ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, footnote [37]—Nicola's amended to Nicholas's—"In another story St. Nicolas’s +picture is the surety."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, footnote [41]—Dei amended to Die—"Die kluge Bauerntochter"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_45">45</a>—crouched amended to couched—"... couched in terms of +the utmost severity ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_49">49</a>—alternation amended to alteration—"... how little alteration +it may undergo."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, footnote [54]—chortevnok amended to chortenok—"... (<i>chortenok</i> = a little +<i>chort</i> or devil) ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_55">55</a>—Golovh amended to Golova—"<i>Golova</i> = head"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_59">59</a>—the author uses the statement, "The folk-tales of all lands delight to gird at +misers and skinflints ...". While gird does not seem to be the right word in this +context, it's unclear what the author really intended—possibly gibe?—so it +is left as printed.<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, footnote [77]—Afansief amended to Afanasief—"... <i>i.e.</i>, says Afanasief ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_83">83</a>, footnote [83]—Wissenchaften amended to Wissenschaften—"... Gesellschaft +der Wissenschaften ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_92">92</a>—Mährchen amended to Märchen—"...Schleicher’s "Litauische Märchen" ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_97">97</a>, footnote [101]—Afansief amended to Afanasief—"Afanasief, viii. No. 8. ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_98">98</a>—gronnd amended to ground—"The Eagle smote upon the ground ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_101">101</a>—Is it amended to It is—"It is possible to sow wheat, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_104">104</a>—me amended to met—"Presently there met him a lioness ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_104">104</a>—omitted 'I' added—"... so hungry, I feel quite unwell!"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_109">109</a>, footnote [108]—No. 20o amended to No. 20—"Khudyakof, No. 20."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_110">110</a>—faries amended to fairies—"... a lake in which fairies of the swan-maiden +..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_113">113</a>, footnote [114]—chigunnova amended to chugunnova—"<i>Do chugunnova +kamnya</i>, to an iron stone."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_120">120</a>, footnote [128]—Siebenbügen amended to Siebenbürgen—"... Deutsche +Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, footnote [136]—Professer amended to Professor—"... referred to by Professor +Benfey ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, footnote [136]—Egyptain amended to Egyptian—"... parallel to part of the Egyptian +myth ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_126">126</a>—nto amended to into—"Then in a moment they rolled themselves into ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_129">129</a>, footnote [142]—Rusalk amended to Rusalka—"For a description of the Rusalka ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_138">138</a>, footnote [146]—traslated amended to translated—"The word here translated +..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_143">143</a>, footnote [148]—Afansief amended to Afanasief—"Afanasief, v. No. 28. In the +preceding story ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_146">146</a>, footnote [160]—the word "jenzi" is repeated. Probably one of the +occurrences had a diacritical mark which was not reproduced in this edition; it +has been left as printed.<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_153">153</a>—foul's amended to fowl's—"... twirling round on "a fowl’s leg.""<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_160">160</a>—By-and-bye amended to By-and-by—"By-and-by she put out the lights ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_167">167</a>, footnote [194]—government amended to Government—"From the Poltava Government."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, footnote [204]—Afansief amended to Afanasief—"Afanasief, vii. No. 18."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_170">170</a>, footnote [205]—Sanscrit amended to Sanskrit—"... answering to the Sanskrit +..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_171">171</a>, footnote [206]—Voronej amended to Voroneje—"From the Voroneje Government."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_172">172</a>, footnote [208]—Shazka amended to Skazka—"... the Skazka for that of witch ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_172">172</a>—Ivaschechko amended to Ivashechko (verse following "... called to her son")—"Ivashechko, +Ivashechko, my boy ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_177">177</a>—servants-maids amended to servant-maids—"... the bereaved mother sends three +servant-maids ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_177">177</a>, footnote [214]—Id. amended to Ibid.—"Ibid. No. 52."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_179">179</a>—woman amended to women—"... where two old women were sewing ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_190">190</a>—in amended to it—"... there is no occasion to dwell upon it here."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_208">208</a>, footnote [255]—Rhudyakof amended to Khudyakof—"Khudyakof, No. 166."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_213">213</a>—plating amended to plaiting—"... sat a moujik plaiting a bast shoe."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_214">214</a>—alloting amended to allotting—"... when God was allotting their shares ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_215">215</a>, footnote [267]—i.i. amended to ii.—"Afanasief, <i>P.V.S.</i>, ii. +226."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_217">217</a>, footnote [271]—Borichesky amended to Borichefsky—"Quoted from Borichefsky +..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_218">218</a>—withen amended to within—"... when he came within a few versts of the sea- +shore ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_225">225</a>—superfluous 'to' removed before "out to merry-makings"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_228">228</a>—put amended to puts—"... the girl puts on the robes, and +appears ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_233">233</a>—n amended to in—"... went out one day to walk in the garden."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_233">233</a>—omitted 'a' added—"... hiding him behind a number of cushions, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_241">241</a>—Brynhildr amended to Brynhild—"... who bear so great a resemblance to +Brynhild ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_252">252</a>, footnote [321]—omitted roman i. reference added—"See A. de Gubernatis, "Zool. +Mythology," i. 181."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_255">255</a>—euough amended to enough—"That’s no go, sure enough!"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_257">257</a>—t amended to it—"If the Princess found it out, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_260">260</a>, footnote [326]—omitted word 'Cox' added—"... by G. W. Cox ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_261">261</a>, footnote [328]—Kullish amended to Kulish—"For a little-Russian version see +Kulish ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_262">262</a>—shaskas amended to skazkas—"But skazkas tell that ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_276">276</a>—the amended to The—"The fiend disappears howling, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_276">276</a>, footnote [363]—Märchensammlung amended to Mährchensammlung—"Brockhaus’s +"Mährchensammlung des Somadeva Bhatta" ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_277">277</a>—dont amended to don't—"... from your psalter and don’t look behind ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_286">286</a>—of amended to off—"Do you drive off with the coffin, ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_288">288</a>, footnote [368]—Gessellschaft amended to Gesellschaft—"... Königl. Sächs. +Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_291">291</a>—sportman amended to sportsman—"... a sportsman finds in a +forest ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_313">313</a>, footnote [407]—Geöthe amended to Goethe—"... Goethe founded his weird +ballad ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_321">321</a>—omitted word 'in' added—"The pyre became wrapped in flames ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_334">334</a>, footnote [430]—Tereschenko amended to Tereshchenko—"Tereshchenko, v. p. +45."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_335">335</a>, footnote [433]—Tereschenko amended to Tereshchenko—"Tereshchenko, v. 47."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_344">344</a>, footnote [445]—Il'inskomy amended to Il'inskomu—"Il’inskomu bat’kye—to +the Elijah father."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_350">350</a>, footnote [448]—page reference 206 amended to 212—"... +mentioned above, p. 212."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_354">354</a>, footnote [453]—page reference 27 amended to 40—"... See above, p. 40."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_365">365</a>, footnote [464]—omitted apostrophe added after Prolub—"Prolub’"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_369">369</a>—merged amended to emerged—"At last he emerged from his ecstasy"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_374">374</a>—cap amended to chap—"... into the “Gesta Romanorum” (chap. +clxii.) ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_378">378</a>—youself amended to yourself—"Hire yourself to him ..."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_379">379</a>, footnote [482]—Governmen amended to Government—"From the Tula Government."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_381">381</a>, footnote [486]—familar amended to familiar—"... a tale familiar to many +lands."<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_383">383</a>—page reference 316 amended to 317 in index entry for "Dog and +Corpse, story of the".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_384">384</a>—page reference 194 amended to 201 in index entry for "Mythology, &c. +Personifications of Good and Evil,—Zluidni".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_385">385</a> and Page <a href="#Page_386">386</a>—page reference 243 amended to 242 in index entries +for "Symplêgades".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_385">385</a>—lighting amended to lightning—"superstitions about lightning, 343;"<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_385">385</a>—page reference 255 amended to 355 in index entry for "Priest with the +Greedy Eyes, story of the".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_385">385</a>—page reference 383 amended to 157 in index entry for "Russian children, +appearance of".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_385">385</a>—page reference 36 amended to 49 in index entry for "Russian peasants—their +jokes against women".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_386">386</a>—page reference 83 amended to 84 in index entry for "Vy, the +Servian".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_386">386</a>—page reference 113 amended to 130 in index entry for "Water King +and Vasilissa the Wise, story of the".<br /> + +Page <a href="#Page_386">386</a>—30-237 amended to 237-242, in line with other index entry for +"Waters of Life and Death".<br /> +</p> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Russian Fairy Tales, by W. 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