Chương Chương 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.