Kabanata Kabanata 9 · THE WHITE DUCK

. THE WHITE DUCK

Once upon a time a great and powerful King married a lovely Princess. No

couple were ever so happy; but before their honeymoon was over they were

forced to part, for the King had to go on a warlike expedition to a far

country, and leave his young wife alone at home. Bitter were the tears

she shed, while her husband sought in vain to soothe her with words of

comfort and counsel, warning her, above all things, never to leave

the castle, to hold no intercourse with strangers, to beware of evil

counsellors, and especially to be on her guard against strange women.

And the Queen promised faithfully to obey her royal lord and master in

these four matters.

So when the King set out on his expedition she shut herself up with

her ladies in her own apartments, and spent her time in spinning and

weaving, and in thinking of her royal husband. Often she was very sad

and lonely, and it happened that one day while she was seated at the

window, letting salt tears drop on her work, an old woman, a kind,

homely-looking old body, stepped up to the window, and, leaning upon her

crutch, addressed the Queen in friendly, flattering tones, saying:

‘Why are you sad and cast down, fair Queen? You should not mope all day

in your rooms, but should come out into the green garden, and hear the

birds sing with joy among the trees, and see the butterflies fluttering

above the flowers, and hear the bees and insects hum, and watch

the sunbeams chase the dew-drops through the rose-leaves and in the

lily-cups. All the brightness outside would help to drive away your

cares, O Queen.’

For long the Queen resisted her coaxing words, remembering the promise

she had given the King, her husband; but at last she thought to herself:

After all, what harm would it do if I were to go into the garden for a

short time and enjoy myself among the trees and flowers, and the singing

birds and fluttering butterflies and humming insects, and look at

the dew-drops hiding from the sunbeams in the hearts of the roses and

lilies, and wander about in the sunshine, instead of remaining all

day in this room? For she had no idea that the kind-looking old woman

leaning on her crutch was in reality a wicked witch, who envied the

Queen her good fortune, and was determined to ruin her. And so, in all

ignorance, the Queen followed her out into the garden and listened to

her smooth, flattering words. Now, in the middle of the garden there was

a pond of water, clear as crystal, and the old woman said to the Queen:

‘The day is so warm, and the sun’s rays so scorching, that the water in

the pond looks very cool and inviting. Would you not like to bathe in

it, fair Queen?’

‘No, I think not,’ answered the Queen; but the next moment she regretted

her words, and thought to herself: Why shouldn’t I bathe in that cool,

fresh water? No harm could come of it. And, so saying, she slipped off

her robes and stepped into the water. But scarcely had her tender feet

touched the cool ripples when she felt a great shove on her shoulders,

and the wicked witch had pushed her into the deep water, exclaiming:

‘Swim henceforth, White Duck!’

And the witch herself assumed the form of the Queen, and decked herself

out in the royal robes, and sat among the Court ladies, awaiting the

King’s return. And suddenly the tramp of horses’ hoofs was heard, and

the barking of dogs, and the witch hastened forward to meet the royal

carriages, and, throwing her arms round the King’s neck, kissed him.

And in his great joy the King did not know that the woman he held in his

arms was not his own dear wife, but a wicked witch.

In the meantime, outside the palace walls, the poor White Duck swam up

and down the pond; and near it laid three eggs, out of which there came

one morning two little fluffy ducklings and a little ugly drake. And the

White Duck brought the little creatures up, and they paddled after her

in the pond, and caught gold-fish, and hopped upon the bank and waddled

about, ruffling their feathers and saying ‘Quack, quack’ as they

strutted about on the green banks of the pond. But their mother used to

warn them not to stray too far, telling them that a wicked witch lived

in the castle beyond the garden, adding, ‘She has ruined me, and she

will do her best to ruin you.’ But the young ones did not listen to

their mother, and, playing about the garden one day, they strayed close

up to the castle windows. The witch at once recognised them by their

smell, and ground her teeth with anger; but she hid her feelings, and,

pretending to be very kind she called them to her and joked with them,

and led them into a beautiful room, where she gave them food to eat, and

showed them a soft cushion on which they might sleep. Then she left them

and went down into the palace kitchens, where she told the servants to

sharpen the knives, and to make a great fire ready, and hang a large

kettleful of water over it.

In the meantime the two little ducklings had fallen asleep, and the

little drake lay between them, covered up by their wings, to be kept

warm under their feathers. But the little drake could not go to sleep,

and as he lay there wide awake in the night he heard the witch come to

the door and say:

‘Little ones, are you asleep?’

And the little drake answered for the other two:

‘We cannot sleep, we wake and weep,

Sharp is the knife, to take our life;

The fire is hot, now boils the pot,

And so we wake, and lie and quake.’

‘They are not asleep yet,’ muttered the witch to herself; and she walked

up and down in the passage, and then came back to the door, and said:

‘Little ones, are you asleep?’

And again the little drake answered for his sisters:

‘We cannot sleep, we wake and weep,

Sharp is the knife, to take our life;

The fire is hot, now boils the pot,

And so we wake, and lie and quake.’

‘Just the same answer,’ muttered the witch; ‘I think I’ll go in and

see.’ So she opened the door gently, and seeing the two little ducklings

sound asleep, she there and then killed them.

The next morning the White Duck wandered round the pond in a distracted

manner, looking for her little ones; she called and she searched, but

could find no trace of them. And in her heart she had a foreboding that

evil had befallen them, and she fluttered up out of the water and flew

to the palace. And there, laid out on the marble floor of the court,

dead and stone cold, were her three children. The White Duck threw

herself upon them, and, covering up their little bodies with her wings,

she cried:

‘Quack, quack--my little loves!

Quack, quack--my turtle-doves!

I brought you up with grief and pain,

And now before my eyes you’re slain.

I gave you always of the best;

I kept you warm in my soft nest.

I loved and watched you day and night--

You were my joy, my one delight.’

The King heard the sad complaint of the White Duck, and called to the

witch: ‘Wife, what a wonder is this? Listen to that White Duck.’

But the witch answered, ‘My dear husband, what do you mean? There is

nothing wonderful in a duck’s quacking. Here, servants! Chase that duck

out of the courtyard.’ But though the servants chased and chevied, they

could not get rid of the duck; for she circled round and round, and

always came back to the spot where her children lay, crying:

‘Quack, quack--my little loves!

Quack, quack--my turtle-doves!

The wicked witch your lives did take--

The wicked witch, the cunning snake.

First she stole my King away,

Then my children did she slay.

Changed me, from a happy wife,

To a duck for all my life.

Would I were the Queen again;

Would that you had never been slain.’

And as the King heard her words he began to suspect that he had been

deceived, and he called out to the servants, ‘Catch that duck, and bring

it here.’ But, though they ran to and fro, the duck always fled past

them, and would not let herself be caught. So the King himself stepped

down amongst them, and instantly the duck fluttered down into his hands.

And as he stroked her wings she was changed into a beautiful woman, and

he recognised his dear wife. And she told him that a bottle would be

found in her nest in the garden, containing some drops from the spring

of healing. And it was brought to her; and the ducklings and little

drake were sprinkled with the water, and from the little dead bodies

three lovely children arose. And the King and Queen were overjoyed when

they saw their children, and they all lived happily together in the

beautiful palace. But the wicked witch was taken by the King’s command,

and she came to no good end.

THE WITCH AND HER SERVANTS(22)

(22) From the Russian. Kletke.

Long time ago there lived a King who had three sons; the eldest was

called Szabo, the second Warza, and the youngest Iwanich.

One beautiful spring morning the King was walking through his

gardens with these three sons, gazing with admiration at the various

fruit-trees, some of which were a mass of blossom, whilst others were

bowed to the ground laden with rich fruit. During their wanderings they

came unperceived on a piece of waste land where three splendid trees

grew. The King looked on them for a moment, and then, shaking his head

sadly, he passed on in silence.

The sons, who could not understand why he did this, asked him the reason

of his dejection, and the King told them as follows:

‘These three trees, which I cannot see without sorrow, were planted by

me on this spot when I was a youth of twenty. A celebrated magician, who

had given the seed to my father, promised him that they would grow into

the three finest trees the world had ever seen. My father did not live

to see his words come true; but on his death-bed he bade me transplant

them here, and to look after them with the greatest care, which I

accordingly did. At last, after the lapse of five long years, I noticed

some blossoms on the branches, and a few days later the most exquisite

fruit my eyes had ever seen.

‘I gave my head-gardener the strictest orders to watch the trees

carefully, for the magician had warned my father that if one unripe

fruit were plucked from the tree, all the rest would become rotten at

once. When it was quite ripe the fruit would become a golden yellow.

‘Every day I gazed on the lovely fruit, which became gradually more

and more tempting-looking, and it was all I could do not to break the

magician’s commands.

‘One night I dreamt that the fruit was perfectly ripe; I ate some of it,

and it was more delicious than anything I had ever tasted in real life.

As soon as I awoke I sent for the gardener and asked him if the fruit on

the three trees had not ripened in the night to perfection.

‘But instead of replying, the gardener threw himself at my feet and

swore that he was innocent. He said that he had watched by the trees all

night, but in spite of it, and as if by magic, the beautiful trees had

been robbed of all their fruit.

‘Grieved as I was over the theft, I did not punish the gardener, of

whose fidelity I was well assured, but I determined to pluck off all the

fruit in the following year before it was ripe, as I had not much belief

in the magician’s warning.

‘I carried out my intention, and had all the fruit picked off the tree,

but when I tasted one of the apples it was bitter and unpleasant, and

the next morning the rest of the fruit had all rotted away.

‘After this I had the beautiful fruit of these trees carefully guarded

by my most faithful servants; but every year, on this very night, the

fruit was plucked and stolen by an invisible hand, and next morning not

a single apple remained on the trees. For some time past I have given up

even having the trees watched.’

When the King had finished his story, Szabo, his eldest son, said to

him: ‘Forgive me, father, if I say I think you are mistaken. I am sure

there are many men in your kingdom who could protect these trees from

the cunning arts of a thieving magician; I myself, who as your eldest

son claim the first right to do so, will mount guard over the fruit this

very night.’

The King consented, and as soon as evening drew on Szabo climbed up on

to one of the trees, determined to protect the fruit even if it cost him

his life. So he kept watch half the night; but a little after midnight

he was overcome by an irresistible drowsiness, and fell fast asleep.

He did not awake till it was bright daylight, and all the fruit on the

trees had vanished.

The following year Warza, the second brother, tried his luck, but with

the same result. Then it came to the turn of the third and youngest son.

Iwanich was not the least discouraged by the failure of his elder

brothers, though they were both much older and stronger than he was,

and when night came climbed up the tree as they had done, The moon had

risen, and with her soft light lit up the whole neighbourhood, so that

the observant Prince could distinguish the smallest object distinctly.

At midnight a gentle west wind shook the tree, and at the same moment

a snow-white swan-like bird sank down gently on his breast. The

Prince hastily seized the bird’s wings in his hands, when, lo! to his

astonishment he found he was holding in his arms not a bird but the most

beautiful girl he had ever seen.

‘You need not fear Militza,’ said the beautiful girl, looking at the

Prince with friendly eyes. ‘An evil magician has not robbed you of your

fruit, but he stole the seed from my mother, and thereby caused her

death. When she was dying she bade me take the fruit, which you have no

right to possess, from the trees every year as soon as it was ripe.

This I would have done to-night too, if you had not seized me with such

force, and so broken the spell I was under.’

Iwanich, who had been prepared to meet a terrible magician and not a

lovely girl, fell desperately in love with her. They spent the rest of

the night in pleasant conversation, and when Militza wished to go away

he begged her not to leave him.

‘I would gladly stay with you longer,’ said Militza, ‘but a wicked witch

once cut off a lock of my hair when I was asleep, which has put me in

her power, and if morning were still to find me here she would do me

some harm, and you, too, perhaps.’

Having said these words, she drew a sparkling diamond ring from her

finger, which she handed to the Prince, saying: ‘Keep this ring in

memory of Militza, and think of her sometimes if you never see her

again. But if your love is really true, come and find me in my own

kingdom. I may not show you the way there, but this ring will guide you.

‘If you have love and courage enough to undertake this journey, whenever

you come to a cross-road always look at this diamond before you settle

which way you are going to take. If it sparkles as brightly as ever go

straight on, but if its lustre is dimmed choose another path.’

Then Militza bent over the Prince and kissed him on his forehead, and

before he had time to say a word she vanished through the branches of

the tree in a little white cloud.

Morning broke, and the Prince, still full of the wonderful apparition,

left his perch and returned to the palace like one in a dream, without

even knowing if the fruit had been taken or not; for his whole mind was

absorbed by thoughts of Militza and how he was to find her.

As soon as the head-gardener saw the Prince going towards the palace he

ran to the trees, and when he saw them laden with ripe fruit he hastened

to tell the King the joyful news. The King was beside himself for joy,

and hurried at once to the garden and made the gardener pick him some of

the fruit. He tasted it, and found the apple quite as luscious as it

had been in his dream. He went at once to his son Iwanich, and after

embracing him tenderly and heaping praises on him, he asked him how

he had succeeded in protecting the costly fruit from the power of the

magician.

This question placed Iwanich in a dilemma. But as he did not want the

real story to be known, he said that about midnight a huge wasp had

flown through the branches, and buzzed incessantly round him. He had

warded it off with his sword, and at dawn, when he was becoming quite

worn out, the wasp had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.

The King, who never doubted the truth of this tale, bade his son go to

rest at once and recover from the fatigues of the night; but he himself

went and ordered many feasts to be held in honour of the preservation of

the wonderful fruit.

The whole capital was in a stir, and everyone shared in the King’s joy;

the Prince alone took no part in the festivities.

While the King was at a banquet, Iwanich took some purses of gold, and

mounting the quickest horse in the royal stable, he sped off like the

wind without a single soul being any the wiser.

It was only on the next day that they missed him; the King was very

distressed at his disappearance, and sent search-parties all over the

kingdom to look for him, but in vain; and after six months they gave him

up as dead, and in another six months they had forgotten all about him.

But in the meantime the Prince, with the help of his ring, had had a

most successful journey, and no evil had befallen him.

At the end of three months he came to the entrance of a huge forest,

which looked as if it had never been trodden by human foot before, and

which seemed to stretch out indefinitely. The Prince was about to enter

the wood by a little path he had discovered, when he heard a voice

shouting to him: ‘Hold, youth! Whither are you going?’

Iwanich turned round, and saw a tall, gaunt-looking man, clad in

miserable rags, leaning on a crooked staff and seated at the foot of

an oak tree, which was so much the same colour as himself that it was

little wonder the Prince had ridden past the tree without noticing him.

‘Where else should I be going,’ he said, ‘than through the wood?’

‘Through the wood?’ said the old man in amazement. ‘It’s easily seen

that you have heard nothing of this forest, that you rush so blindly to

meet your doom. Well, listen to me before you ride any further; let me

tell you that this wood hides in its depths a countless number of the

fiercest tigers, hyenas, wolves, bears, and snakes, and all sorts of

other monsters. If I were to cut you and your horse up into tiny morsels

and throw them to the beasts, there wouldn’t be one bit for each hundred

of them. Take my advice, therefore, and if you wish to save your life

follow some other path.’

The Prince was rather taken aback by the old man’s words, and considered

for a minute what he should do; then looking at his ring, and perceiving

that it sparkled as brightly as ever, he called out: ‘If this wood held

even more terrible things than it does, I cannot help myself, for I must

go through it.’

Here he spurred his horse and rode on; but the old beggar screamed so

loudly after him that the Prince turned round and rode back to the oak

tree.

‘I am really sorry for you,’ said the beggar, ‘but if you are quite

determined to brave the dangers of the forest, let me at least give you

a piece of advice which will help you against these monsters.

‘Take this bagful of bread-crumbs and this live hare. I will make you

a present of them both, as I am anxious to save your life; but you must

leave your horse behind you, for it would stumble over the fallen trees

or get entangled in the briers and thorns. When you have gone about a

hundred yards into the wood the wild beasts will surround you. Then you

must instantly seize your bag, and scatter the bread-crumbs among them.

They will rush to eat them up greedily, and when you have scattered the

last crumb you must lose no time in throwing the hare to them; as soon

as the hare feels itself on the ground it will run away as quickly as

possible, and the wild beasts will turn to pursue it. In this way you

will be able to get through the wood unhurt.’

Iwanich thanked the old man for his counsel, dismounted from his horse,

and, taking the bag and the hare in his arms, he entered the forest. He

had hardly lost sight of his gaunt grey friend when he heard growls and

snarls in the thicket close to him, and before he had time to think he

found himself surrounded by the most dreadful-looking creatures. On

one side he saw the glittering eye of a cruel tiger, on the other the

gleaming teeth of a great she-wolf; here a huge bear growled fiercely,

and there a horrible snake coiled itself in the grass at his feet.

But Iwanich did not forget the old man’s advice, and quickly put his

hand into the bag and took out as many bread-crumbs as he could hold in

his hand at a time. He threw them to the beasts, but soon the bag grew

lighter and lighter, and the Prince began to feel a little frightened.

And now the last crumb was gone, and the hungry beasts thronged round

him, greedy for fresh prey. Then he seized the hare and threw it to

them.

No sooner did the little creature feel itself on the ground than it

lay back its ears and flew through the wood like an arrow from a bow,

closely pursued by the wild beasts, and the Prince was left alone. He

looked at his ring, and when he saw that it sparkled as brightly as ever

he went straight on through the forest.

He hadn’t gone very far when he saw a most extraordinary looking man

coming towards him. He was not more than three feet high, his legs

were quite crooked, and all his body was covered with prickles like a

hedgehog. Two lions walked with him, fastened to his side by the two

ends of his long beard.

He stopped the Prince and asked him in a harsh voice: ‘Are you the man

who has just fed my body-guard?’

Iwanich was so startled that he could hardly reply, but the little man

continued: ‘I am most grateful to you for your kindness; what can I give

you as a reward?’

‘All I ask,’ replied Iwanich, ‘is, that I should be allowed to go

through this wood in safety.’

‘Most certainly,’ answered the little man; ‘and for greater security I

will give you one of my lions as a protector. But when you leave this

wood and come near a palace which does not belong to my domain, let the

lion go, in order that he may not fall into the hands of an enemy and be

killed.’

With these words he loosened the lion from his beard and bade the beast

guard the youth carefully.

With this new protector Iwanich wandered on through the forest, and

though he came upon a great many more wolves, hyenas, leopards, and

other wild beasts, they always kept at a respectful distance when they

saw what sort of an escort the Prince had with him.

Iwanich hurried through the wood as quickly as his legs would carry him,

but, nevertheless, hour after hour went by and not a trace of a green

field or a human habitation met his eyes. At length, towards evening,

the mass of trees grew more transparent, and through the interlaced

branches a wide plain was visible.

At the exit of the wood the lion stood still, and the Prince took leave

of him, having first thanked him warmly for his kind protection. It had

become quite dark, and Iwanich was forced to wait for daylight before

continuing his journey.

He made himself a bed of grass and leaves, lit a fire of dry branches,

and slept soundly till the next morning.

Then he got up and walked towards a beautiful white palace which he saw

gleaming in the distance. In about an hour he reached the building, and

opening the door he walked in.

After wandering through many marble halls, he came to a huge staircase

made of porphyry, leading down to a lovely garden.

The Prince burst into a shout of joy when he suddenly perceived Militza

in the centre of a group of girls who were weaving wreaths of flowers

with which to deck their mistress.

As soon as Militza saw the Prince she ran up to him and embraced him

tenderly; and after he had told her all his adventures, they went into

the palace, where a sumptuous meal awaited them. Then the Princess

called her court together, and introduced Iwanich to them as her future

husband.

Preparations were at once made for the wedding, which was held soon

after with great pomp and magnificence.

Three months of great happiness followed, when Militza received one day

an invitation to visit her mother’s sister.

Although the Princess was very unhappy at leaving her husband, she did

not like to refuse the invitation, and, promising to return in seven

days at the latest, she took a tender farewell of the Prince, and

said: ‘Before I go I will hand you over all the keys of the castle. Go

everywhere and do anything you like; only one thing I beg and beseech

you, do not open the little iron door in the north tower, which is

closed with seven locks and seven bolts; for if you do, we shall both

suffer for it.’

Iwanich promised what she asked, and Militza departed, repeating her

promise to return in seven days.

When the Prince found himself alone he began to be tormented by pangs

of curiosity as to what the room in the tower contained. For two days he

resisted the temptation to go and look, but on the third he could stand

it no longer, and taking a torch in his hand he hurried to the tower,

and unfastened one lock after the other of the little iron door until it

burst open.

What an unexpected sight met his gaze! The Prince perceived a small room

black with smoke, lit up feebly by a fire from which issued long blue

flames. Over the fire hung a huge cauldron full of boiling pitch, and

fastened into the cauldron by iron chains stood a wretched man screaming

with agony.

Iwanich was much horrified at the sight before him, and asked the man

what terrible crime he had committed to be punished in this dreadful

fashion.

‘I will tell you everything,’ said the man in the cauldron; ‘but first

relieve my torments a little, I implore you.’

‘And how can I do that?’ asked the Prince.

‘With a little water,’ replied the man; ‘only sprinkle a few drops over

me and I shall feel better.’

The Prince, moved by pity, without thinking what he was doing, ran

to the courtyard of the castle, and filled a jug with water, which he

poured over the man in the cauldron.

In a moment a most fearful crash was heard, as if all the pillars of the

palace were giving way, and the palace itself, with towers and doors,

windows and the cauldron, whirled round the bewildered Prince’s head.

This continued for a few minutes, and then everything vanished into

thin air, and Iwanich found himself suddenly alone upon a desolate heath

covered with rocks and stones.

The Prince, who now realised what his heedlessness had done, cursed too

late his spirit of curiosity. In his despair he wandered on over the

heath, never looking where he put his feet, and full of sorrowful

thoughts. At last he saw a light in the distance, which came from a

miserable-looking little hut.

The owner of it was none other than the kind-hearted gaunt grey beggar

who had given the Prince the bag of bread-crumbs and the hare. Without

recognising Iwanich, he opened the door when he knocked and gave him

shelter for the night.

On the following morning the Prince asked his host if he could get him

any work to do, as he was quite unknown in the neighbourhood, and had

not enough money to take him home.

‘My son,’ replied the old man, ‘all this country round here is

uninhabited; I myself have to wander to distant villages for my living,

and even then I do not very often find enough to satisfy my hunger. But

if you would like to take service with the old witch Corva, go straight

up the little stream which flows below my hut for about three hours, and

you will come to a sand-hill on the left-hand side; that is where she

lives.’

Iwanich thanked the gaunt grey beggar for his information, and went on

his way.

After walking for about three hours the Prince came upon a

dreary-looking grey stone wall; this was the back of the building and

did not attract him; but when he came upon the front of the house

he found it even less inviting, for the old witch had surrounded her

dwelling with a fence of spikes, on every one of which a man’s skull was

stuck. In this horrible enclosure stood a small black house, which had

only two grated windows, all covered with cobwebs, and a battered iron

door.

The Prince knocked, and a rasping woman’s voice told him to enter.

Iwanich opened the door, and found himself in a smoke-begrimed kitchen,

in the presence of a hideous old woman who was warming her skinny hands

at a fire. The Prince offered to become her servant, and the old hag

told him she was badly in want of one, and he seemed to be just the

person to suit her.

When Iwanich asked what his work, and how much his wages would be, the

witch bade him follow her, and led the way through a narrow damp

passage into a vault, which served as a stable. Here he perceived two

pitch-black horses in a stall.

‘You see before you,’ said the old woman, ‘a mare and her foal; you have

nothing to do but to lead them out to the fields every day, and to see

that neither of them runs away from you. If you look after them both for

a whole year I will give you anything you like to ask; but if, on the

other hand, you let either of the animals escape you, your last hour is

come, and your head shall be stuck on the last spike of my fence. The

other spikes, as you see, are already adorned, and the skulls are all

those of different servants I have had who have failed to do what I

demanded.’

Iwanich, who thought he could not be much worse off than he was already,

agreed to the witch’s proposal.

At daybreak nest morning he drove his horses to the field, and brought

them back in the evening without their ever having attempted to break

away from him. The witch stood at her door and received him kindly, and

set a good meal before him.

So it continued for some time, and all went well with the Prince.

Early every morning he led the horses out to the fields, and brought

them home safe and sound in the evening.

One day, while he was watching the horses, he came to the banks of a

river, and saw a big fish, which through some mischance had been cast on

the land, struggling hard to get back into the water.

Iwanich, who felt sorry for the poor creature, seized it in his arms and

flung it into the stream. But no sooner did the fish find itself in the

water again, than, to the Prince’s amazement, it swam up to the bank and

said:

‘My kind benefactor, how can I reward you for your goodness?’

‘I desire nothing,’ answered the Prince. ‘I am quite content to have

been able to be of some service to you.’

‘You must do me the favour,’ replied the fish, ‘to take a scale from my

body, and keep it carefully. If you should ever need my help, throw it

into the river, and I will come to your aid at once.’

Iwanich bowed, loosened a scale from the body of the grateful beast, put

it carefully away, and returned home.

A short time after this, when he was going early one morning to the

usual grazing place with his horses, he noticed a flock of birds

assembled together making a great noise and flying wildly backwards and

forwards.

Full of curiosity, Iwanich hurried up to the spot, and saw that a large

number of ravens had attacked an eagle, and although the eagle was big

and powerful and was making a brave fight, it was overpowered at last by

numbers, and had to give in.

But the Prince, who was sorry for the poor bird, seized the branch of

a tree and hit out at the ravens with it; terrified at this unexpected

onslaught they flew away, leaving many of their number dead or wounded

on the battlefield.

As soon as the eagle saw itself free from its tormentors it plucked a

feather from its wing, and, handing it to the Prince, said: ‘Here, my

kind benefactor, take this feather as a proof of my gratitude; should

you ever be in need of my help blow this feather into the air, and I

will help you as much as is in my power.’

Iwanich thanked the bird, and placing the feather beside the scale he

drove the horses home.

Another day he had wandered farther than usual, and came close to a

farmyard; the place pleased the Prince, and as there was plenty of good

grass for the horses he determined to spend the day there. Just as he

was sitting down under a tree he heard a cry close to him, and saw a fox

which had been caught in a trap placed there by the farmer.

In vain did the poor beast try to free itself; then the good-natured

Prince came once more to the rescue, and let the fox out of the trap.

The fox thanked him heartily, tore two hairs out of his bushy tail, and

said: ‘Should you ever stand in need of my help throw these two hairs

into the fire, and in a moment I shall be at your side ready to obey

you.’

Iwanich put the fox’s hairs with the scale and the feather, and as it

was getting dark he hastened home with his horses.

In the meantime his service was drawing near to an end, and in three

more days the year was up, and he would be able to get his reward and

leave the witch.

On the first evening of these last three days, when he came home and was

eating his supper, he noticed the old woman stealing into the stables.

The Prince followed her secretly to see what she was going to do. He

crouched down in the doorway and heard the wicked witch telling the

horses to wait next morning till Iwanich was asleep, and then to go and

hide themselves in the river, and to stay there till she told them to

return; and if they didn’t do as she told them the old woman threatened

to beat them till they bled.

When Iwanich heard all this he went back to his room, determined that

nothing should induce him to fall asleep next day. On the following

morning he led the mare and foal to the fields as usual, but bound a

cord round them both which he kept in his hand.

But after a few hours, by the magic arts of the old witch, he was

overpowered by sleep, and the mare and foal escaped and did as they had

been told to do. The Prince did not awake till late in the evening; and

when he did, he found, to his horror, that the horses had disappeared.

Filled with despair, he cursed the moment when he had entered the

service of the cruel witch, and already he saw his head sticking up on

the sharp spike beside the others.

Then he suddenly remembered the fish’s scale, which, with the eagle’s

feather and the fox’s hairs, he always carried about with him. He drew

the scale from his pocket, and hurrying to the river he threw it in. In

a minute the grateful fish swam towards the bank on which Iwanich was

standing, and said: ‘What do you command, my friend and benefactor?’

The Prince replied: ‘I had to look after a mare and foal, and they have

run away from me and have hidden themselves in the river; if you wish to

save my life drive them back to the land.’

‘Wait a moment,’ answered the fish, ‘and I and my friends will soon

drive them out of the water.’ With these words the creature disappeared

into the depths of the stream.

Almost immediately a rushing hissing sound was heard in the waters, the

waves dashed against the banks, the foam was tossed into the air, and

the two horses leapt suddenly on to the dry land, trembling and shaking

with fear.

Iwanich sprang at once on to the mare’s back, seized the foal by its

bridle, and hastened home in the highest spirits.

When the witch saw the Prince bringing the horses home she could hardly

conceal her wrath, and as soon as she had placed Iwanich’s supper before

him she stole away again to the stables. The Prince followed her, and

heard her scolding the beasts harshly for not having hidden themselves

better. She bade them wait next morning till Iwanich was asleep and then

to hide themselves in the clouds, and to remain there till she called.

If they did not do as she told them she would beat them till they bled.

The next morning, after Iwanich had led his horses to the fields, he

fell once more into a magic sleep. The horses at once ran away and hid

themselves in the clouds, which hung down from the mountains in soft

billowy masses.

When the Prince awoke and found that both the mare and the foal had

disappeared, he bethought him at once of the eagle, and taking the

feather out of his pocket he blew it into the air.

In a moment the bird swooped down beside him and asked: ‘What do you

wish me to do?’

‘My mare and foal,’ replied the Prince, ‘have run away from me, and have

hidden themselves in the clouds; if you wish to save my life, restore

both animals to me.’

‘Wait a minute,’ answered the eagle; ‘with the help of my friends I will

soon drive them back to you.’

With these words the bird flew up into the air and disappeared among the

clouds.

Almost directly Iwanich saw his two horses being driven towards him by

a host of eagles of all sizes. He caught the mare and foal, and having

thanked the eagle he drove them cheerfully home again.

The old witch was more disgusted than ever when she saw him appearing,

and having set his supper before him she stole into the stables, and

Iwanich heard her abusing the horses for not having hidden themselves

better in the clouds. Then she bade them hide themselves next morning,

as soon as Iwanich was asleep, in the King’s hen-house, which stood on

a lonely part of the heath, and to remain there till she called. If they

failed to do as she told them she would certainly beat them this time

till they bled.

On the following morning the Prince drove his horses as usual to the

fields. After he had been overpowered by sleep, as on the former days,

the mare and foal ran away and hid themselves in the royal hen house.

When the Prince awoke and found the horses gone he determined to appeal

to the fox; so, lighting a fire, he threw the two hairs into it, and

in a few moments the fox stood beside him and asked: ‘In what way can I

serve you?’

‘I wish to know,’ replied Iwanich, ‘where the King’s hen-house is.’

‘Hardly an hour’s walk from here,’ answered the fox, and offered to show

the Prince the way to it.

While they were walking along the fox asked him what he wanted to do

at the royal hen-house. The Prince told him of the misfortune that had

befallen him, and of the necessity of recovering the mare and foal.

‘That is no easy matter,’ replied the fox. ‘But wait a moment. I have

an idea. Stand at the door of the hen-house, and wait there for your

horses. In the meantime I will slip in among the hens through a hole in

the wall and give them a good chase, so that the noise they make will

arouse the royal henwives, and they will come to see what is the matter.

When they see the horses they will at once imagine them to be the cause

of the disturbance, and will drive them out. Then you must lay hands on

the mare and foal and catch them.

All turned out exactly as the sly fox had foreseen. The Prince swung

himself on the mare, seized the foal by its bridle, and hurried home.

While he was riding over the heath in the highest of spirits the mare

suddenly said to her rider: ‘You are the first person who has ever

succeeded in outwitting the old witch Corva, and now you may ask what

reward you like for your service. If you promise never to betray me I

will give you a piece of advice which you will do well to follow.’

The Prince promised never to betray her confidence, and the mare

continued: ‘Ask nothing else as a reward than my foal, for it has not

its like in the world, and is not to be bought for love or money; for it

can go from one end of the earth to another in a few minutes. Of course

the cunning Corva will do her best to dissuade you from taking the foal,

and will tell you that it is both idle and sickly; but do not believe

her, and stick to your point.’

Iwanich longed to possess such an animal, and promised the mare to

follow her advice.

This time Corva received him in the most friendly manner, and set a

sumptuous repast before him. As soon as he had finished she asked him

what reward he demanded for his year’s service.

‘Nothing more nor less,’ replied the Prince, ‘than the foal of your

mare.’

The witch pretended to be much astonished at his request, and said that

he deserved something much better than the foal, for the beast was lazy

and nervous, blind in one eye, and, in short, was quite worthless.

But the Prince knew what he wanted, and when the old witch saw that he

had made up his mind to have the foal, she said, ‘I am obliged to keep

my promise and to hand you over the foal; and as I know who you are and

what you want, I will tell you in what way the animal will be useful to

you. The man in the cauldron of boiling pitch, whom you set free, is a

mighty magician; through your curiosity and thoughtlessness Militza came

into his power, and he has transported her and her castle and belongings

into a distant country.

‘You are the only person who can kill him; and in consequence he fears

you to such an extent that he has set spies to watch you, and they

report your movements to him daily.

‘When you have reached him, beware of speaking a single word to him, or

you will fall into the power of his friends. Seize him at once by the

beard and dash him to the ground.’

Iwanich thanked the old witch, mounted his foal, put spurs to its sides,

and they flew like lightning through the air.

Already it was growing dark, when Iwanich perceived some figures in the

distance; they soon came up to them, and then the Prince saw that it

was the magician and his friends who were driving through the air in a

carriage drawn by owls.

When the magician found himself face to face with Iwanich, without hope

of escape, he turned to him with false friendliness and said: ‘Thrice my

kind benefactor!’

But the Prince, without saying a word, seized him at once by his beard

and dashed him to the ground. At the same moment the foal sprang on the

top of the magician and kicked and stamped on him with his hoofs till he

died.

Then Iwanich found himself once more in the palace of his bride, and

Militza herself flew into his arms.

From this time forward they lived in undisturbed peace and happiness

till the end of their lives.