Chapter II: Mythological (1)

_Principal Incarnations of Evil._

The present chapter is devoted to specimens of those skazkas which most Russian critics assert to be distinctly mythical. The stories of this class are so numerous, that the task of selection has been by no means easy. But I have done my best to choose such examples as are most characteristic of that species of the "mythical" folk-tale which prevails in Russia, and to avoid, as far as possible, the repetition of narratives which have already been made familiar to the English reader by translations of German and Scandinavian stories.

There is a more marked individuality in the Russian tales of this kind, as compared with those of Western Europe, than is to be traced in the stories (especially those of a humorous cast) which relate to the events that chequer an ordinary existence. The actors in the _comediettas_ of European peasant-life vary but little, either in title or in character, wherever the scene may be laid; just as in the European beast-epos the Fox, the Wolf, and the Bear play parts which change but slightly with the regions they inhabit. But the supernatural beings which people the fairy-land peculiar to each race, though closely resembling each other in many respects, differ conspicuously in others. They may, it is true, be nothing more than various developments of the same original type; they may be traceable to germs common to the prehistoric ancestors of the now widely separated Aryan peoples; their peculiarities may simply be due to the accidents to which travellers from distant lands are liable. But at all events each family now has features of its own, typical characteristics by which it may be readily distinguished from its neighbors. My chief aim at present is to give an idea of those characteristics which lend individuality to the "mythical beings" in the Skazkas; in order to effect this, I shall attempt a delineation of those supernatural figures, to some extent peculiar to Slavonic fairy-land, which make their appearance in the Russian folk-tales. I have given a brief sketch of them elsewhere.[72] I now propose to deal with them more fully, quoting at length, instead of merely mentioning, some of the evidence on which the proof of their existence depends.

For the sake of convenience, we may select from the great mass of the mythical skazkas those which are supposed most manifestly to typify the conflict of opposing elements--whether of Good and Evil, or of Light and Darkness, or of Heat and Cold, or of any other pair of antagonistic forces or phenomena. The typical hero of this class of stories, who represents the cause of right, and who is resolved by mythologists into so many different essences, presents almost identically the same appearance in most of the countries wherein he has become naturalized. He is endowed with supernatural powers, but he remains a man, for all that. Whether as prince or peasant, he alters but very little in his wanderings among the Aryan races of Europe.

And a somewhat similar statement may be made about his feminine counterpart--for all the types of Fairy-land life are of an epicene nature, admitting of a feminine as well as a masculine development--the heroine who in the Skazkas, as well as in other folk-tales, braves the wrath of female demons in quest of means whereby to lighten the darkness of her home, or rescues her bewitched brothers from the thraldom of an enchantress, or liberates her captive husband from a dungeon's gloom.

But their antagonists--the dark or evil beings whom the hero attacks and eventually destroys, or whom the heroine overcomes by her virtues, her subtlety, or her skill--vary to a considerable extent with the region they occupy, or rather with the people in whose memories they dwell. The Giants by killing whom our own Jack gained his renown, the Norse Trolls, the Ogres of southern romance, the Drakos and Lamia of modern Greece, the Lithuanian Laume--these and all the other groups of monstrous forms under which the imagination of each race has embodied its ideas about (according to one hypothesis) the Powers of Darkness it feared, or (according to another) the Aborigines it detested, differ from each other to a considerable and easily recognizable extent. An excellent illustration of this statement is offered by the contrast between the Slavonic group of supernatural beings of this class and their equivalents in lands tenanted by non-Slavonic members of the Indo-European family. A family likeness will, of course, be traced between all these conceptions of popular fancy, but the gloomy figures with which the folk-tales of the Slavonians render us familiar may be distinguished at a glance among their kindred monsters of Latin, Hellenic, Teutonic, or Celtic extraction. Of those among the number to which the Russian skazkas relate I will now proceed to give a sketch, allowing the stories, so far as is possible, to speak for themselves.

If the powers of darkness in the "mythical" skazkas are divided into two groups--the one male, the other female--there stand out as the most prominent figures in the former set, the Snake (or some other illustration of "Zoological Mythology"), Koshchei the Deathless, and the Morskoi Tsar or King of the Waters. In the latter group the principal characters are the Baba Yaga, or Hag, her close connection the Witch, and the Female Snake. On the forms and natures of the less conspicuous characters to be found in either class we will not at present dwell. An opportunity for commenting on some of them will be afforded in another chapter.

To begin with the Snake. His outline, like that of the cloud with which he is so frequently associated, and which he is often supposed to typify, is seldom well-defined. Now in one form and now in another, he glides a shifting shape, of which it is difficult to obtain a satisfactory view. Sometimes he retains throughout the story an exclusively reptilian character; sometimes he is of a mixed nature, partly serpent and partly man. In one story we see him riding on horseback, with hawk on wrist (or raven on shoulder) and hound at heel; in another he figures as a composite being with a human body and a serpent's head; in a third he flies as a fiery snake into his mistress's bower, stamps with his foot on the ground, and becomes a youthful gallant. But in most cases he is a serpent which in outward appearance seems to differ from other ophidians only in being winged and polycephalous--the number of his heads generally varying from three to twelve.[73]

He is often known by the name of Zmei [snake] Goruinuich [son of the _gora_ or mountain], and sometimes he is supposed to dwell in the mountain caverns. To his abode, whether in the bowels of the earth, or in the open light of day--whether it be a sumptuous palace or "an _izba_ on fowl's legs," a hut upheld by slender supports on which it turns as on a pivot--he carries off his prey. In one story he appears to have stolen, or in some way concealed, the day-light; in another the bright moon and the many stars come forth from within him after his death. But as a general rule it is some queen or princess whom he tears away from her home, as Pluto carried off Proserpina, and who remains with him reluctantly, and hails as her rescuer the hero who comes to give him battle. Sometimes, however, the snake is represented as having a wife of his own species, and daughters who share their parent's tastes and powers. Such is the case in the (South-Russian) story of

IVAN POPYALOF.[74]

Once upon a time there was an old couple, and they had three
sons. Two of these had their wits about them, but the third
was a simpleton, Ivan by name, surnamed Popyalof.

For twelve whole years Ivan lay among the ashes from the
stove; but then he arose, and shook himself, so that six poods
of ashes[75] fell off from him.

Now in the land in which Ivan lived there was never any
day, but always night. That was a Snake's doing. Well, Ivan
undertook to kill that Snake, so he said to his father, "Father,
make me a mace five poods in weight." And when he had got
the mace, he went out into the fields, and flung it straight up in
the air, and then he went home. The next day he went out into
the fields to the spot from which he had flung the mace on high,
and stood there with his head thrown back. So when the mace
fell down again it hit him on the forehead. And the mace
broke in two.

Ivan went home and said to his father, "Father, make me
another mace, a ten pood one." And when he had got it he
went out into the fields, and flung it aloft. And the mace went
flying through the air for three days and three nights. On the
fourth day Ivan went out to the same spot, and when the mace
came tumbling down, he put his knee in the way, and the mace
broke over it into three pieces.

Ivan went home and told his father to make him a third
mace, one of fifteen poods weight. And when he had got it, he
went out into the fields and flung it aloft. And the mace was
up in the air six days. On the seventh Ivan went to the same
spot as before. Down fell the mace, and when it struck Ivan's
forehead, the forehead bowed under it. Thereupon he said,
"This mace will do for the Snake!"

So when he had got everything ready, he went forth with
his brothers to fight the Snake. He rode and rode, and presently
there stood before him a hut on fowl's legs,[76] and in that
hut lived the Snake. There all the party came to a standstill.
Then Ivan hung up his gloves, and said to his brothers, "Should
blood drop from my gloves, make haste to help me." When he
had said this he went into the hut and sat down under the
boarding.[77]

Presently there rode up a Snake with three heads. His
steed stumbled, his hound howled, his falcon clamored.[78] Then
cried the Snake:

"Wherefore hast thou stumbled, O Steed! hast thou howled,
O Hound! hast thou clamored, O Falcon?"

"How can I but stumble," replied the Steed, "when under
the boarding sits Ivan Popyalof?"

Then said the Snake, "Come forth, Ivanushka! Let us
try our strength together." Ivan came forth, and they began to
fight. And Ivan killed the Snake, and then sat down again
beneath the boarding.

Presently there came another Snake, a six-headed one, and
him, too, Ivan killed. And then there came a third, which had
twelve heads. Well, Ivan began to fight with him, and lopped
off nine of his heads. The Snake had no strength left in him.
Just then a raven came flying by, and it croaked:

"Krof? Krof!"[79]

Then the Snake cried to the Raven, "Fly, and tell my wife
to come and devour Ivan Popyalof."

But Ivan cried: "Fly, and tell my brothers to come, and
then we will kill this Snake, and give his flesh to thee."

And the Raven gave ear to what Ivan said, and flew to his
brothers and began to croak above their heads. The brothers
awoke, and when they heard the cry of the Raven, they hastened
to their brother's aid. And they killed the Snake, and then,
having taken his heads, they went into his hut and destroyed
them. And immediately there was bright light throughout the
whole land.

After killing the Snake, Ivan Popyalof and his brothers set
off on their way home. But he had forgotten to take away his
gloves, so he went back to fetch them, telling his brothers to
wait for him meanwhile. Now when he had reached the hut
and was going to take away his gloves, he heard the voices of
the Snake's wife and daughters, who were talking with each
other. So he turned himself into a cat, and began to mew
outside the door. They let him in, and he listened to everything
they said. Then he got his gloves and hastened away.

As soon as he came to where his brothers were, he mounted
his horse, and they all started afresh. They rode and rode;
presently they saw before them a green meadow, and on that
meadow lay silken cushions. Then the elder brothers said,
"Let's turn out our horses to graze here, while we rest ourselves
a little."

But Ivan said, "Wait a minute, brothers!" and he seized
his mace, and struck the cushions with it. And out of those
cushions there streamed blood.

So they all went on further. They rode and rode; presently
there stood before them an apple-tree, and upon it were gold
and silver apples. Then the elder brothers said, "Let's eat an
apple apiece." But Ivan said, "Wait a minute, brothers; I'll
try them first," and he took his mace, and struck the apple-tree
with it. And out of the tree streamed blood.

So they went on further. They rode and rode, and by and
by they saw a spring in front of them. And the elder brothers
cried, "Let's have a drink of water." But Ivan Popyalof
cried: "Stop, brothers!" and he raised his mace and struck
the spring, and its waters became blood.

For the meadow, the silken cushions, the apple-tree, and the
spring, were all of them daughters of the Snake.

After killing the Snake's daughters, Ivan and his brothers
went on homewards. Presently came the Snake's Wife flying
after them, and she opened her jaws from the sky to the earth,
and tried to swallow up Ivan. But Ivan and his brothers threw
three poods of salt into her mouth. She swallowed the salt,
thinking it was Ivan Popyalof, but afterwards--when she had
tasted the salt, and found out it was not Ivan--she flew after
him again.

Then he perceived that danger was at hand, and so he let
his horse go free, and hid himself behind twelve doors in the
forge of Kuzma and Demian. The Snake's Wife came flying
up, and said to Kuzma and Demian, "Give me up Ivan Popyalof."
But they replied:

"Send your tongue through the twelve doors and take him."
So the Snake's Wife began licking the doors. But meanwhile
they all heated iron pincers, and as soon as she had sent her
tongue through into the smithy, they caught tight hold of her
by the tongue, and began thumping her with hammers. And
when the Snake's Wife was dead they consumed her with fire,
and scattered her ashes to the winds. And then they went
home, and there they lived and enjoyed themselves, feasting
and revelling, and drinking mead and wine.

I was there, too, and had liquor to drink; it didn't go into
my mouth, but only ran down my beard.[80]

The skazka of Ivan Buikovich (Bull's son)[81] contains a variant of part of this story, but the dragon which the Slavonic St. George kills is called, not a snake, but a Chudo-Yudo.[82] Ivan watches one night while his brothers sleep. Presently up rides "a six-headed Chudo-Yudo" which he easily kills. The next night he slays, but with more difficulty, a nine-headed specimen of the same family. On the third night appears "a twelve-headed Chudo-Yudo," mounted on a horse "with twelve wings, its coat of silver, its mane and tail of gold." Ivan lops off three of the monster's heads, but they, like those of the Lernaean Hydra, become re-attached to their necks at the touch of their owner's "fiery finger." Ivan, whom his foe has driven into the ground up to his knees, hurls one of his gloves at the hut in which his brothers are sleeping. It smashes the windows, but the sleepers slumber on and take no heed. Presently Ivan smites off six of his antagonist's heads, but they grow again as before.[83] Half buried in the ground by the monster's strength, Ivan hurls his other glove at the hut, piercing its roof this time. But still his brothers slumber on. At last, after fruitlessly shearing off nine of the Chudo-Yudo's heads, and finding himself embedded in the ground up to his armpits, Ivan flings his cap at the hut. The hut reels under the blow and its beams fall asunder; his brothers awake, and hasten to his aid, and the Chudo-Yudo is destroyed. The "Chudo-Yudo wives" as the widows of the three monsters are called, then proceed to play the parts attributed in "Ivan Popyalof" to the Snake's daughters.

"I will become an apple-tree with golden and silver apples," says the first; "whoever plucks an apple will immediately burst." Says the second, "I will become a spring--on the water will float two cups, the one golden, the other of silver; whoever touches one of the cups, him will I drown." And the third says, "I will become a golden bed; whoever lies down upon that bed will be consumed with fire." Ivan, in a sparrow's form, overhears all this, and acts as in the preceding story. The three widows die, but their mother, "an old witch," determines on revenge. Under the form of a beggar-woman she asks alms from the retreating brothers. Ivan tenders her a ducat. She seizes, not the ducat, but his outstretched hand, and in a moment whisks him off underground to her husband, an Aged One, whose appearance is that of the mythical being whom the Servians call the Vy. He "lies on an iron couch, and sees nothing; his long eyelashes and thick eyebrows completely hide his eyes," but he sends for "twelve mighty heroes," and orders them to take iron forks and lift up the hair about his eyes, and then he gazes at the destroyer of his family. The glance of the Servian Vy is supposed to be as deadly as that of a basilisk, but the patriarch of the Russian story does not injure his captive. He merely sends him on an errand which leads to a fresh set of adventures, of which we need not now take notice.

In a third variant of the story,[84] they are snakes which are killed by the hero, Ivan Koshkin (Cat's son), and it is a Baba Yaga, or Hag, who undertakes to revenge their deaths and those of their wives, her daughters. Accordingly she pursues the three brothers, and succeeds in swallowing two of them. The third, Ivan Koshkin, takes refuge in a smithy, and, as before, the monster's tongue is seized, and she is beaten with hammers until she disgorges her prey, none the worse for their temporary imprisonment.

We have seen, in the story about the Chudo-Yudo, that the place usually occupied by the Snake is at times filled by some other magical being. This frequently occurs in that class of stories which relates how three brothers set out to apprehend a trespasser, or to seek a mother or sister who has been mysteriously spirited away. They usually come either to an opening which leads into the underground world, or to the base of an apparently inaccessible hill. The youngest brother descends or ascends as the case may be, and after a series of adventures which generally lead him through the kingdoms of copper, of silver, and of gold, returns in triumph to where his brothers are awaiting him. And he is almost invariably deserted by them, as soon as they have secured the beautiful princesses who accompany him--as may be read in the following (South-Russian) history of--

THE NORKA.[85]

Once upon a time there lived a king and queen. They had three
sons, two of them with their wits about them, but the third a
simpleton. Now the King had a deer-park in which were quantities
of wild animals of different kinds. Into that park there
used to come a huge beast--Norka was its name--and do fearful
mischief, devouring some of the animals every night. The King
did all he could, but he was unable to destroy it. So at last he
called his sons together and said: "Whoever will destroy the
Norka, to him will I give the half of my kingdom."

Well, the eldest son undertook the task. As soon as it was
night, he took his weapons and set out. But before he reached
the park, he went into a _traktir_ (or tavern), and there he spent
the whole night in revelry. When he came to his senses it was
too late; the day had already dawned. He felt himself disgraced
in the eyes of his father, but there was no help for it. The next
day the second son went, and did just the same. Their father
scolded them both soundly, and there was an end of it.

Well, on the third day the youngest son undertook the task.
They all laughed him to scorn, because he was so stupid, feeling
sure he wouldn't do anything. But he took his arms, and went
straight into the park, and sat down on the grass in such a position
that, the moment he went asleep, his weapons would prick
him, and he would awake.

Presently the midnight hour sounded. The earth began to
shake, and the Norka came rushing up, and burst right through
the fence into the park, so huge was it. The Prince pulled himself
together, leapt to his feet, crossed himself, and went straight
at the beast. It fled back, and the Prince ran after it. But he
soon saw that he couldn't catch it on foot, so he hastened to the
stable, laid his hands on the best horse there, and set off in
pursuit. Presently he came up with the beast, and they began a
fight. They fought and fought; the Prince gave the beast three
wounds. At last they were both utterly exhausted, so they lay
down to take a short rest. But the moment the Prince closed his
eyes, up jumped the Beast and took to flight. The Prince's horse
awoke him; up he jumped in a moment, and set off again in
pursuit, caught up the Beast, and again began fighting with it.
Again the Prince gave the Beast three wounds, and then he and
the Beast lay down again to rest. Thereupon away fled the
Beast as before. The Prince caught it up, and again gave it
three wounds. But all of a sudden, just as the Prince began
chasing it for the fourth time, the Beast fled to a great white
stone, tilted it up, and escaped into the other world,[86] crying out
to the Prince: "Then only will you overcome me, when you
enter here."

The Prince went home, told his father all that had happened,
and asked him to have a leather rope plaited, long enough to
reach to the other world. His father ordered this to be done.
When the rope was made, the Prince called for his brothers, and
he and they, having taken servants with them, and everything that
was needed for a whole year, set out for the place where the
Beast had disappeared under the stone. When they got there,
they built a palace on the spot, and lived in it for some time.
But when everything was ready, the youngest brother said to
the others: "Now, brothers, who is going to lift this stone?"

Neither of them could so much as stir it, but as soon as he
touched it, away it flew to a distance, though it was ever so big--big
as a hill. And when he had flung the stone aside, he spoke
a second time to his brothers, saying:

"Who is going into the other world, to overcome the Norka?"

Neither of them offered to do so. Then he laughed at them
for being such cowards, and said:

"Well, brothers, farewell! Lower me into the other world,
and don't go away from here, but as soon as the cord is jerked,
pull it up."

His brothers lowered him accordingly, and when he had
reached the other world, underneath the earth, he went on his
way. He walked and walked. Presently he espied a horse with
rich trappings, and it said to him:

"Hail, Prince Ivan! Long have I awaited thee!"

He mounted the horse and rode on--rode and rode, until he
saw standing before him, a palace made of copper. He entered
the courtyard, tied up his horse, and went indoors. In one of
the rooms a dinner was laid out. He sat down and dined, and
then went into a bedroom. There he found a bed, on which he
lay down to rest. Presently there came in a lady, more beautiful
than can be imagined anywhere but in a skazka, who said:

"Thou who art in my house, name thyself! If thou art an
old man, thou shall be my father; if a middle-aged man, my
brother; but if a young man, thou shalt be my husband dear.
And if thou art a woman, and an old one, thou shalt be my grandmother;
if middle-aged, my mother; and if a girl, thou shalt be
my own sister."[87]

Thereupon he came forth. And when she saw him, she was
delighted with him, and said:

"Wherefore, O Prince Ivan--my husband dear shalt thou be!--wherefore
hast thou come hither?"

Then he told her all that had happened, and she said:

"That beast which thou wishest to overcome is my brother.
He is staying just now with my second sister, who lives not far
from here in a silver palace. I bound up three of the wounds
which thou didst give him."

Well, after this they drank, and enjoyed themselves, and held
sweet converse together, and then the prince took leave of her,
and went on to the second sister, the one who lived in the silver
palace, and with her also he stayed awhile. She told him that
her brother Norka was then at her youngest sister's. So he
went on to the youngest sister, who lived in a golden palace.
She told him that her brother was at that time asleep on the
blue sea, and she gave him a sword of steel and a draught of the
Water of Strength, and she told him to cut off her brother's
head at a single stroke. And when he had heard these things,
he went his way.

And when the Prince came to the blue sea, he looked--there
slept Norka on a stone in the middle of the sea; and when it
snored, the water was agitated for seven versts around. The
Prince crossed himself, went up to it and smote it on the head
with his sword. The head jumped off, saying the while, "Well,
I'm done for now!" and rolled far away into the sea.

After killing the Beast, the Prince went back again, picking
up all the three sisters by the way, with the intention of taking
them out into the upper world: for they all loved him and would
not be separated from him. Each of them turned her palace
into an egg--for they were all enchantresses--and they taught
him how to turn the eggs into palaces, and back again, and they
handed over the eggs to him. And then they all went to the
place from which they had to be hoisted into the upper world.
And when they came to where the rope was, the Prince took
hold of it and made the maidens fast to it.[88] Then he jerked
away at the rope, and his brothers began to haul it up. And
when they had hauled it up, and had set eyes on the wondrous
maidens, they went aside and said: "Let's lower the rope, pull
our brother part of the way up, and then cut the rope. Perhaps
he'll be killed; but then if he isn't, he'll never give us these
beauties as wives."

So when they had agreed on this, they lowered the rope.
But their brother was no fool; he guessed what they were at,
so he fastened the rope to a stone, and then gave it a pull.
His brothers hoisted the stone to a great height, and then cut
the rope. Down fell the stone and broke in pieces; the Prince
poured forth tears and went away. Well, he walked and walked.
Presently a storm arose; the lightning flashed, the thunder
roared, the rain fell in torrents. He went up to a tree in order
to take shelter under it, and on that tree he saw some young
birds which were being thoroughly drenched. So he took off
his coat and covered them over with it, and he himself sat down
under the tree. Presently there came flying a bird--such a big
one, that the light was blotted out by it. It had been dark
there before, but now it became darker still. Now this was the
mother of those small birds which the Prince had covered up.
And when the bird had come flying up, she perceived that her
little ones were covered over, and she said, "Who has wrapped
up my nestlings?" and presently, seeing the Prince, she added:
"Didst thou do that? Thanks! In return, ask of me any
thing thou desirest. I will do anything for thee."

"Then carry me into the other world," he replied.

"Make me a large _zasyek_[89] with a partition in the middle,"
she said; "catch all sorts of game, and put them into one half
of it, and into the other half pour water; so that there may be
meat and drink for me."

All this the Prince did. Then the bird--having taken the
_zasyek_ on her back, with the Prince sitting in the middle of it--began
to fly. And after flying some distance she brought him
to his journey's end, took leave of him, and flew away back.
But he went to the house of a certain tailor, and engaged himself
as his servant. So much the worse for wear was he, so
thoroughly had he altered in appearance, that nobody would
have suspected him of being a Prince.

Having entered into the service of this master, the Prince
began to ask what was going on in that country. And his
master replied: "Our two princes--for the third one has disappeared--have
brought away brides from the other world, and
want to marry them, but those brides refuse. For they insist
on having all their wedding-clothes made for them first, exactly
like those which they used to have in the other world, and that
without being measured for them. The King has called all the
workmen together, but not one of them will undertake to do it."

The Prince, having heard all this, said, "Go to the King,
master, and tell him that you will provide everything that's in
your line."

"However can I undertake to make clothes of that sort;
I work for quite common folks," says his master.

"Go along, master! I will answer for everything," says
the Prince.

So the tailor went. The King was delighted that at least
one good workman had been found, and gave him as much
money as ever he wanted. When the tailor had settled everything,
he went home. And the Prince said to him:

"Now then, pray to God, and lie down to sleep; to-morrow
all will be ready." And the tailor followed his lad's advice,
and went to bed.

Midnight sounded. The Prince arose, went out of the city
into the fields, took out of his pocket the eggs which the
maidens had given him, and, as they had taught him, turned
them into three palaces. Into each of these he entered, took
the maidens' robes, went out again, turned the palaces back
into eggs, and went home. And when he got there he hung up
the robes on the wall, and lay down to sleep.

Early in the morning his master awoke, and behold! there
hung such robes as he had never seen before, all shining with
gold and silver and precious stones. He was delighted, and he
seized them and carried them off to the King. When the princesses
saw that the clothes were those which had been theirs in
the other world, they guessed that Prince Ivan was in this
world, so they exchanged glances with each other, but they
held their peace. And the master, having handed over the
clothes, went home, but he no longer found his dear journeyman
there. For the Prince had gone to a shoemaker's, and him too
he sent to work for the King; and in the same way he went the
round of all the artificers, and they all proffered him thanks,
inasmuch as through him they were enriched by the King.

By the time the princely workman had gone the round of all
the artificers, the princesses had received what they had asked
for; all their clothes were just like what they had been in the
other world. Then they wept bitterly because the Prince had
not come, and it was impossible for them to hold out any
longer, it was necessary that they should be married. But when
they were ready for the wedding, the youngest bride said to the
King:

"Allow me, my father, to go and give alms to the beggars."

He gave her leave, and she went and began bestowing alms
upon them, and examining them closely. And when she had
come to one of them, and was going to give him some money,
she caught sight of the ring which she had given to the Prince
in the other world, and her sisters' rings too--for it really was
he. So she seized him by the hand, and brought him into the
hall, and said to the King:

"Here is he who brought us out of the other world. His
brothers forbade us to say that he was alive, threatening to slay
us if we did."

Then the King was wroth with those sons, and punished
them as he thought best. And afterwards three weddings were
celebrated.

[The conclusion of this story is somewhat obscure.
Most of the variants represent the Prince as forgiving
his brothers, and allowing them to marry two of the
three princesses, but the present version appears to
keep closer to its original, in which the prince
doubtless married all three. With this story may be
compared: Grimm, No. 166, "Der starke Hans," and No.
91, "Dat Erdmaenneken." See also vol. iii. p. 165,
where a reference is given to the Hungarian story in
Gaal, No. 5--Dasent, No. 55, "The Big Bird Dan," and
No. 56, "Soria Moria Castle" (Asbjoernsen and Moe, Nos.
3 and 2. A somewhat similar story, only the palaces
are in the air, occurs in Asbjoernsen's "Ny Samling,"
No. 72)--Campbell's "Tales of the West Highlands," No.
58--Schleicher's "Litauische Maerchen," No. 38--The
Polish story, Wojcicki, Book iii. No. 6, in which
Norka is replaced by a witch who breaks the windows of
a church, and is wounded, in falcon-shape, by the
youngest brother--Hahn, No. 70, in which a Drakos, as
a cloud, steals golden apples, a story closely
resembling the Russian skazka. See also No. 26, very
similar to which is the Servian Story in "Vuk
Karajich," No. 2--and a very interesting Tuscan story
printed for the first time by A. de Gubernatis,
"Zoological Mythology," vol. ii. p. 187. See also
ibid. p. 391.

But still more important than these are the parallels
offered by Indian fiction. Take, for instance, the
story of Sringabhuja, in chap. xxxix. of book vii. of
the "Kathasaritsagara." In it the elder sons of a
certain king wish to get rid of their younger
half-brother. One day a Rakshasa appears in the form
of a gigantic crane. The other princes shoot at it in
vain, but the youngest wounds it, and then sets off in
pursuit of it, and of the valuable arrow which is
fixed in it. After long wandering he comes to a castle
in a forest. There he finds a maiden who tells him she
is the daughter of the Rakshasa whom, in the form of a
crane, he has wounded. She at once takes his part
against her demon father, and eventually flies with
him to his own country. The perils which the fugitives
have to encounter will be mentioned in the remarks on
Skazka XIX. See Professor Brockhaus's summary of the
story in the "Berichte der phil. hist. Classe der K.
Saechs. Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften," 1861, pp.
223-6. Also Professor Wilson's version in his "Essays
on Sanskrit Literature," vol. ii. pp. 134-5.

In two other stories in the same collection the hero
gives chase to a boar of gigantic size. It takes
refuge in a cavern into which he follows it. Presently
he finds himself in a different world, wherein he
meets a beauteous maiden who explains everything to
him. In the first of these two stories the lady is the
daughter of a Rakshasa, who is invulnerable except in
the palm of the left hand, for which reason, our hero,
Chandasena has been unable to wound him when in his
boar disguise. She instructs Chandasena how to kill
her father, who accordingly falls a victim to a
well-aimed shaft. (Brockhaus's "Maehrchensammlung des
Somadeva Bhatta," 1843, vol. i. pp. 110-13). In the
other story, the lady turns out to be a princess whom
"a demon with fiery eyes" had carried off and
imprisoned. She tells the hero, Saktideva, that the
demon has just died from a wound inflicted upon him,
while transformed into a boar, by a bold archer.
Saktideva informs her that he is that archer.
Whereupon she immediately requests him to marry her
(ibid. vol. ii. p. 175). In both stories the boar is
described as committing great ravages in the upper
world until the hero attacks it.]

The Adventures of a prince, the youngest of three brothers, who has been lowered into the underground world or who has ascended into an enchanted upper realm, form the theme of numerous skazkas, several of which are variants of the story of Norka. The prince's elder brothers almost always attempt to kill him, when he is about to ascend from the gulf or descend from the steeps which separate him from them. In one instance, the following excuse is offered for their conduct. The hero has killed a Snake in the underground world, and is carrying its head on a lance, when his brothers begin to hoist him up. "His brothers were frightened at the sight of that head and thinking the Snake itself was coming, they let Ivan fall back into the pit."[90] But this apology for their behavior seems to be due to the story-teller's imagination. In some instances their unfraternal conduct may be explained in the following manner. In oriental tales the hero is often the son of a king's youngest wife, and he is not unnaturally hated by his half-brothers, the sons of an older queen, whom the hero's mother has supplanted in their royal father's affections. Accordingly they do their best to get rid of him. Thus, in one of the Indian stories which correspond to that of Norka, the hero's success at court "excited the envy and jealousy of his brothers [doubtless half-brothers], and they were not satisfied until they had devised a plan to effect his removal, and, as they hoped, accomplish his destruction."[91] We know also that "Israel loved Joseph more than all his children," because he was the son "of his old age," and the result was that "when his brethren [who were only his half-brothers] saw that their father loved him more than all his brethren, they hated him."[92] When such tales as these came west in Christian times, their references to polygamy were constantly suppressed, and their distinctions between brothers and half-brothers disappeared. In the same way the elder and jealous wife, who had behaved with cruelty in the original stories to the offspring of her rival, often became turned, under Christian influences, into a stepmother who hated her husband's children by a previous marriage.

There may, however, be a mythological explanation of the behavior of the two elder brothers. Professor de Gubernatis is of opinion that "in the Vedic hymns, Tritas, the third brother, and the ablest as well as best, is persecuted by his brothers," who, "in a fit of jealousy, on account of his wife, the aurora, and the riches she brings with her from the realm of darkness, the cistern or well [into which he has been lowered], detain their brother in the well,"[93] and he compares this form of the myth with that which it assumes in the following Hindoo tradition. "Three brothers, _Ekata_ (_i.e._ the first), _Dwita_ (_i.e._ the second) and _Trita_ (_i.e._ the third) were travelling in a desert, and being distressed with thirst, came to a well, from which the youngest, Trita, drew water and gave it to his brothers; in requital, they drew him into the well, in order to appropriate his property and having covered the top with a cart-wheel, left him in the well. In this extremity he prayed to the gods to extricate him, and by their favor he made his escape."[94] This myth may, perhaps, be the germ from which have sprung the numerous folk-tales about the desertion of a younger brother in some pit or chasm, into which his brothers have lowered him.[95]

It may seem more difficult to account for the willingness of Norka's three sisters to aid in his destruction--unless, indeed, the whole story be considered to be mythological, as its Indian equivalents undoubtedly are. But in many versions of the same tale the difficulty does not arise. The princesses of the copper, silver, and golden realms, are usually represented as united by no ties of consanguinity with the snake or other monster whom the hero comes to kill. In the story of "Usuinya,"[96] for instance, there appears to be no relationship between these fair maidens and the "Usuinya-Bird," which steals the golden apples from a monarch's garden and is killed by his youngest son Ivan. That monster is not so much a bird as a flying dragon. "This Usuinya-bird is a twelve-headed snake," says one of the fair maidens. And presently it arrives--its wings stretching afar, while along the ground trail its moustaches [_usui_, whence its name]. In a variant of the same story in another collection,[97] the part of Norka is played by a white wolf. In that of Ivan Suchenko[98] it is divided among three snakes who have stolen as many princesses. For the snake is much given to abduction, especially when he appears under the terrible form of "Koshchei, the Deathless."

Koshchei is merely one of the many incarnations of the dark spirit which takes so many monstrous shapes in the folk-tales of the class with which we are now dealing. Sometimes he is described as altogether serpent-like in form; sometimes he seems to be of a mixed nature, partly human and partly ophidian, but in some of the stories he is apparently framed after the fashion of a man. His name is by some mythologists derived from _kost'_, a bone whence comes a verb signifying to become ossified, petrified, or frozen; either because he is bony of limb, or because he produces an effect akin to freezing or petrifaction.[99]

He is called "Immortal" or "The Deathless,"[100] because of his superiority to the ordinary laws of existence. Sometimes, like Baldur, he cannot be killed except by one substance; sometimes his "death"--that is, the object with which his life is indissolubly connected--does not exist within his body. Like the vital centre of "the giant who had no heart in his body" in the well-known Norse tale, it is something extraneous to the being whom it affects, and until it is destroyed he may set all ordinary means of annihilation at defiance. But this is not always the case, as may be learnt from one of the best of the skazkas in which he plays a leading part, the history of--

MARYA MOREVNA.[101]

In a certain kingdom there lived a Prince Ivan. He had three
sisters. The first was the Princess Marya, the second the Princess
Olga, the third the Princess Anna. When their father and
mother lay at the point of death, they had thus enjoined their
son:--"Give your sisters in marriage to the very first suitors
who come to woo them. Don't go keeping them by you!"

They died and the Prince buried them, and then, to solace his
grief, he went with his sisters into the garden green to stroll.
Suddenly the sky was covered by a black cloud; a terrible storm
arose.

"Let us go home, sisters!" he cried.

Hardly had they got into the palace, when the thunder
pealed, the ceiling split open, and into the room where they were,
came flying a falcon bright. The Falcon smote upon the ground,
became a brave youth, and said:

"Hail, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I
have come as a wooer! I wish to propose for your sister, the
Princess Marya."

"If you find favor in the eyes of my sister, I will not interfere
with her wishes. Let her marry you in God's name!"

The Princess Marya gave her consent; the Falcon married
her and bore her away into his own realm.

Days follow days, hours chase hours; a whole year goes by.
One day Prince Ivan and his two sisters went out to stroll in
the garden green. Again there arose a stormcloud with whirlwind
and lightning.

"Let us go home, sisters!" cried the Prince. Scarcely had
they entered the palace, when the thunder crashed, the roof
burst into a blaze, the ceiling split in twain, and in flew an eagle.
The Eagle smote upon the ground and became a brave youth.

"Hail, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I
have come as a wooer!"

And he asked for the hand of the Princess Olga. Prince
Ivan replied:

"If you find favor in the eyes of the Princess Olga, then let
her marry you. I will not interfere with her liberty of choice."

The Princess Olga gave her consent and married the Eagle.
The Eagle took her and carried her off to his own kingdom.

Another year went by. Prince Ivan said to his youngest
sister:

"Let us go out and stroll in the garden green!"

They strolled about for a time. Again there arose a stormcloud,
with whirlwind and lightning.

"Let us return home, sister!" said he.

They returned home, but they hadn't had time to sit down
when the thunder[102] crashed, the ceiling split open, and in flew
a raven. The Raven smote upon the floor and became a brave
youth. The former youths had been handsome, but this one
was handsomer still.

"Well, Prince Ivan! Before I came as a guest, but now I
have come as a wooer. Give me the Princess Anna to wife."

"I won't interfere with my sister's freedom. If you gain her
affections, let her marry you."

So the Princess Anna married the Raven, and he bore her
away to his own realm. Prince Ivan was left alone. A whole
year he lived without his sisters; then he grew weary, and
said:--

"I will set out in search of my sisters."

He got ready for the journey, he rode and rode, and one day
he saw a whole army lying dead on the plain. He cried aloud,
"If there be a living man there, let him make answer! who has
slain this mighty host?"

There replied unto him a living man:

"All this mighty host has been slain by the fair Princess
Marya Morevna."

Prince Ivan rode further on, and came to a white tent, and
forth came to meet him the fair Princess Marya Morevna.

"Hail Prince!" says she, "whither does God send you?
and is it of your free will or against your will?"

Prince Ivan replied, "Not against their will do brave youths
ride!"

"Well, if your business be not pressing, tarry awhile in my
tent."

Thereat was Prince Ivan glad. He spent two nights in the
tent, and he found favor in the eyes of Marya Morevna, and
she married him. The fair Princess, Marya Morevna, carried
him off into her own realm.

They spent some time together, and then the Princess took
it into her head to go a warring. So she handed over all the
housekeeping affairs to Prince Ivan, and gave him these instructions:

"Go about everywhere, keep watch over everything, only do
not venture to look into that closet there."

He couldn't help doing so. The moment Marya Morevna
had gone he rushed to the closet, pulled open the door, and
looked in--there hung Koshchei the Deathless, fettered by
twelve chains. Then Koshchei entreated Prince Ivan, saying,--

"Have pity upon me and give me to drink! Ten years long
have I been here in torment, neither eating or drinking; my
throat is utterly dried up."

The Prince gave him a bucketful of water; he drank it up
and asked for more, saying:

"A single bucket of water will not quench my thirst; give
me more!"

The Prince gave him a second bucketful. Koshchei drank
it up and asked for a third, and when he had swallowed the
third bucketful, he regained his former strength, gave his chains
a shake, and broke all twelve at once.

"Thanks, Prince Ivan!" cried Koshchei the deathless,
"now you will sooner see your own ears than Marya Morevna!"
and out of the window he flew in the shape of a terrible whirlwind.
And he came up with the fair Princess Marya Morevna
as she was going her way, laid hold of her, and carried her off
home with him. But Prince Ivan wept full sore, and he arrayed
himself and set out a wandering, saying to himself: "Whatever
happens, I will go and look for Marya Morevna!"

One day passed, another day passed: at the dawn of the
third day he saw a wondrous palace, and by the side of the palace
stood an oak, and on the oak sat a falcon bright. Down flew
the Falcon from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a
brave youth and cried aloud:

"Ha, dear brother-in-law! how deals the Lord with you?"

Out came running the Princess Marya, joyfully greeted her
brother Ivan, and began enquiring after his health, and telling
him all about herself. The Prince spent three days with them,
then he said:

"I cannot abide with you; I must go in search of my wife
the fair Princess Marya Morevna."

"Hard will it be for you to find her," answered the Falcon.
"At all events leave with us your silver spoon. We will look at
it and remember you." So Prince Ivan left his silver spoon at
the Falcon's, and went on his way again.

On he went one day, on he went another day, and by the
dawn of the third day he saw a palace still grander than the former
one, and hard by the palace stood an oak, and on the oak
sat an eagle. Down flew the eagle from the oak, smote upon
the ground, turned into a brave youth, and cried aloud:

"Rise up, Princess Olga! Hither comes our brother dear!"

The Princess Olga immediately ran to meet him, and began
kissing him and embracing him, asking after his health and telling
him all about herself. With them Prince Ivan stopped three
days; then he said:

"I cannot stay here any longer. I am going to look for my
wife, the fair Princess Marya Morevna."

"Hard will it be for you to find her," replied the Eagle,
"Leave with us a silver fork. We will look at it and remember
you."

He left a silver fork behind, and went his way. He travelled
one day, he travelled two days; at daybreak on the third day he
saw a palace grander than the first two, and near the palace
stood an oak, and on the oak sat a raven. Down flew the Raven
from the oak, smote upon the ground, turned into a brave youth,
and cried aloud:

"Princess Anna, come forth quickly! our brother is coming!"

Out ran the Princess Anna, greeted him joyfully, and began
kissing and embracing him, asking after his health and telling
him all about herself. Prince Ivan stayed with them three days;
then he said:

"Farewell! I am going to look for my wife, the fair Princess
Marya Morevna."

"Hard will it be for you to find her," replied the Raven,
"Anyhow, leave your silver snuff-box with us. We will look at
it and remember you."

The Prince handed over his silver snuff-box, took his leave
and went his way. One day he went, another day he went, and
on the third day he came to where Marya Morevna was. She
caught sight of her love, flung her arms around his neck, burst
into tears, and exclaimed:

"Oh, Prince Ivan! why did you disobey me, and go looking
into the closet and letting out Koshchei the Deathless?"

"Forgive me, Marya Morevna! Remember not the past;
much better fly with me while Koshchei the Deathless is out of
sight. Perhaps he won't catch us."

So they got ready and fled. Now Koshchei was out hunting.
Towards evening he was returning home, when his good steed
stumbled beneath him.

"Why stumblest thou, sorry jade? scentest thou some ill?"

The steed replied:

"Prince Ivan has come and carried off Marya Morevna."

"Is it possible to catch them?"