Chapter IV: Magic and Witchcraft (1)

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[296]--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.

A Water of Life plays an important part in the folk-tales of every land.[297] When the hero of a "fairy story" has been done to death by evil hands, his resuscitation by means of a healing and vivifying lotion or ointment[298] 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,[299] 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 _two_ 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 _mertvaya voda_--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 _zhivaya voda_,--the "living water," or "Water of Life"--endows it once more with vitality.

[In a Norse tale in Asbjoernsen's new series, No. 72,
mention is made of a Water of Death, as opposed to a
Water of Life. The Death Water (_Doasens Vana_) throws
all whom it touches into a magic sleep, from which
only Life Water (_Livsens Vand_) can rouse them (p.
57). In the Ramayana, 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 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.

In a Kirghiz story, quoted by Bronevsky,[300] 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.

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).

In the Kalevala, when Lemmenkaeinen 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!"[301]

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 "Vetalapanchavinsati,"[302]
as well as in the Hindi version,[303] 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 _sisupabam_ re-created the body, and, by the
incantation called _sanjivi_, 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 _sisupabam_ gave life to that
body by the _sanjivi_ incantation." According to Mr.
Babington, "Sanjivi 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."[304]]

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[305] 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.[306]

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 to Brynhild, as well in other respects as in that of her enchanted sleep. Thus in one of the Skazkas[307] 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.

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, 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 _Zhar-Ptitsa_, 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.[308]

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.[309]

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.[310] 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.[311]

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,[312] 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 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.

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--

"Take a draught of the water that stands on the right
hand." Prince Ivan drank of it.

"Now then, how strong do you feel?" said she.

"So strong that I could upset the whole palace with one
hand," he replied.

"Come now, drink again."

The Prince drank once more.

"How strong do you feel now?" she asked.

"Why now, if I wanted, I could give the whole world a
jolt."

"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."

Prince Ivan took the tubs and made them change places.
Says the Queen--

"See now, my dear son; in one of these tubs is the 'Water
of Strength,' in the other is the 'Water of Weakness.'[313] 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."

The Queen proceeds to tell her son that, when Vikhor comes home, he must hide beneath her purple cloak, and watch for an opportunity of seizing her gaoler's magic mace.[314] 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:

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:

"Strike again! strike again! or he will come to life!"

"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.[315]

The part played by the Water of Strength in this story may be compared with "the important share which the 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."[316]

Sometimes, as has already been remarked, one of the two magic waters is even more injurious than the Water of Weakness.[317] 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.

THE BLIND MAN AND THE CRIPPLE.[318]

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.[319] 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:

"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."

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.

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:

"Katoma, I'm tired of living alone, I want to marry."

"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."

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:

"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."

Prince Ivan read this inscription, became greatly afflicted, and
went off to his tutor.

"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."

"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."

Prince Ivan begged Katoma to go with him, and gave his
word of honor to obey him whether in joy or grief.

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--

"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."

"We shall manage to think of one in good time," replied
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--

"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."

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--

"I have come from such-and-such a kingdom, and I wish to
sue for the hand of the Princess Anna the Fair."

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.

"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."

"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."

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
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.

So she called Prince Ivan and said to him--

"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."

"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 _dyadka_,
of the oaken _shapka_."

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--

"They'll prove useful by-and-by!"

Next day the princess says to Prince Ivan--

"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."

"I break a horse in myself! I keep a servant for that."

Prince Ivan called Katoma, and said--

"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."

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
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--

"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!"

"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."

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--

"Ho there! coachmen and grooms; carry off this dog's-meat
to its stall!"

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
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.

"What a hero! What immeasurable strength!" cried the
people as they gazed upon the Prince.

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.

"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!"

Princess Anna the Fair lived for some time with Prince Ivan
as a wife ought to live with a god-given[320] 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--

"Beauteous Princess, my beloved spouse! I should like
to go with you to my own kingdom."

"By all means," replied she, "let us go. I myself have
long been wishing to see your kingdom."

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--

"Listen, Prince, you're always sleeping, you hear nothing!
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!"

Prince Ivan, 'twixt sleeping and waking, waxed very wroth
with his tutor, and handed him over entirely to the Princess,
saying--

"Deal with him as you please!"

The Princess ordered his feet to be cut off. Katoma submitted
patiently to the outrage.

"Very good," he thinks; "I shall suffer, it's true; but the
Prince also will know what to lead a wretched life is like!"

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.

"Farewell, Prince Ivan!" he cries; "you won't forget me!"

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.[321]

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
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:

"Who are you?"

"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!"

"You haven't been blind all your life?"

"No, not all my life; but Princess Anna the Fair put my
eyes out!"

"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!"

The two heroes had a talk, and agreed to live together, and
join in getting their food. The blind man says to the lame:

"Sit on my back and show me the way; I will serve you
with my feet, and you me with your eyes."

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.

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--

"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
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."

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:

"Take this, in Christ's name, poor fellow!"

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.

The heroes brought the merchant's daughter into their forest
hut, and said to her:

"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!"

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.

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
long time she held out, but at last her brothers talked her over
and she told them everything without reserve.

"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."

"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!"

So next morning the heroes didn't go out hunting.

"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!"

What was said was done. The blind man laid hold of the
Baba Yaga by her grey hair, and cried--

"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!"

The Baba Yaga hears the bad news and tries to jump up to
get her head free. (_Where are you off to? That's no go, sure
enough!_[322]) She tugs and tugs, but cannot do herself any good!

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.[323] Then into the cottage
bounded the blind man, crying to the cripple--

"Now we must heap up a great pile of wood, and consume
this accursed one with fire, and fling her ashes to the wind!"

The Baba Yaga began imploring them:

"My fathers! my darlings! forgive me. I will do all that is
right."

"Very good, old witch! Then show us the fountain of healing
and life-giving water!" said the heroes.

"Only don't kill me, and I'll show it you directly!"

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,[324] and said--

"That is the water that cures and gives life."

"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!"

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!

"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.

"On my troth I will bring you to good water," says she.

The heroes consented to give her one more trial, and she
took them to another fount.

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.

"Come now, that's good water!" said Katoma.

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."

Accordingly they went back to the fiery fount, and flung the
Baba Yaga into it; didn't it soon make an end of her!

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!

"Stop, herdsman!" says Katoma; "where are you driving
these cows?"

"I'm driving them to the Princess's courtyard," replied the
Prince. "The Princess always sees for herself whether all
the cows are there."

"Here, herdsman; take my clothes and put them on, and I
will put on yours and drive the cows."

"No, brother! that cannot be done. If the Princess found
it out, I should suffer harm!"

"Never fear, nothing will happen! Katoma will guarantee
you that."

Prince Ivan sighed, and said--

"Ah, good man! If Katoma had been alive, I should not
have been feeding these cows afield!"

Then Katoma disclosed to him who he was. Prince Ivan
warmly embraced him and burst into tears.

"I never hoped even to see you again," said he.

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--

"What are you waiting for, dog's-meat?"

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:

"What is that brute of a cowherd doing? Seize him and
bring him to me!"

Then the servants seized Katoma and dragged him to the
palace. He went with them, making no excuses, relying on
himself. They brought him to the Princess. She looked at
him and asked--

"Who are you? Where do you come from?"

"I am he whose feet you cut off and whom you set on a
stump. My name is Katoma _dyadka_, oaken _shapka_."

"Well," thinks the Princess, "now that he's got his feet
back again, I must act straight-forwardly with him for the
future."

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.

[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:--

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.]

Of this story there are many variants. In one of them[325] a 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.

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 _terema_ [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.

But Nikita warns him that for three nights running his 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--

"Is my hand heavy?"

"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.[326]

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 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."

In a Ryazan variant of the story,[327] 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."

In a Tula variant[328] the wicked wife, who has set her confiding husband to tend her pigs, is killed by the hero. 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.

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--

PRINCESS HELENA THE FAIR.[329]

_We say that we are wise folks, but our old people dispute
the fact, saying: "No, no, we were wiser than you are." But
skazkas tell that, before our grandfathers had learnt anything,
before their grandfathers[330] were born_--[331]

There lived in a certain land an old man of this kind who instructed
his three sons in reading and writing[332] and all book
learning. Then said he to them:

"Now, my children! When I die, mind you come and read
prayers over my grave."

"Very good, father, very good," they replied.

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.

"Brothers!" said Vanyusha,[333] "our father is dead; which
of us is to read prayers over his grave?"

"Whoever feels inclined, let him go!" answered the
brothers.

So Vanya went. But as for his elder brothers they did
nothing but exercise their horses, and curl their hair, and dye
their mustaches.

The second night came.

"Brothers!" said Vanya, "I've done my share of reading.
It's your turn now; which of you will go?"

"Whoever likes can go and read. We've business to look
after; don't you meddle."

And they cocked their caps, and shouted, and whooped, and
flew this way, and shot that way, and roved about the open
country.

So Vanyusha read prayers this time also--and on the third
night, too.

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.

"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."

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:

"Don't grieve, Vanya. I'll help you in your trouble."

And immediately the old man drew himself up and straightened
himself, and called aloud and whistled with a ringing
voice, with a shrill[334] whistle.

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,

"What are thy commands?"

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[335] the fair Helena right on the lips!

"Who is he? Who is he? Stop him! Stop him!" was
the cry. Not a trace of him was to be found!

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.

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.