Then Tarás the Stout said, “Iván, you smell too strong. Go and eat outside.”
“All right,” said Iván, taking some bread and going into the yard. “It is time, anyhow, for me to go and pasture the mare.”
V
Tarás’s imp, being also free that night, came, as agreed, to help his comrades subdue Iván the Fool. He arrived at the cornfield, looked and looked for his comrades—no one was there. He only found a hole. He went to the meadow, and there he found an imp’s tail in the swamp, and another hole in the rye stubble.
“Evidently, some ill-luck has befallen my comrades,” thought he. “I must take their place and tackle the fool.”
So the imp went to look for Iván, who had already stacked the corn and was cutting trees in the wood. The two brothers had begun to feel crowded, living together, and had told Iván to cut down trees to build new houses for them.
The imp ran to the wood, climbed among the branches, and began to hinder Iván from felling the trees. Iván undercut one tree so that it would fall clear, but in falling it turned askew and caught among some branches. Iván cut a pole with which to lever it aside, and with difficulty contrived to bring it to the ground. He set to work to fell another tree—again, the same thing occurred, so that despite all his efforts he could hardly get the tree clear. He began on a third tree, and again the same thing happened!
Iván had hoped to cut down half a hundred small trees, but had not felled even half a score, and now night had come and he was exhausted. The steam rising from him spread like a mist through the wood, but still he stuck to his work. He undercut another tree, but his back began to ache so that he could not stand. He drove his axe into the tree and sat down to rest.
The imp, noticing that Iván had stopped work, grew cheerful.
“At last,” he thought, “Iván is tired out! He will give it up. Now I can take a rest myself.”
He seated himself astride a branch and chuckled. But soon Iván got up, pulled the axe out, swung it, and smote the tree from the opposite side with such force that the tree gave way at once and came crashing down. The imp had not expected this, and had no time to get his feet clear, and the tree, in breaking, gripped his paw. Iván began to lop off the branches, when he noticed a live imp hanging in the tree! Iván was surprised.
“What, you nasty thing,” says he, “so you are here again!’
“I am another one,” says the imp. “I have been with your brother Tarás.”
“Whoever you are, you have met your fate,” said Iván, and, swinging his axe, he was about to strike the imp with the haft, but the imp begged for mercy: “Don’t strike me,” said he, “and I will do anything you tell me to.”
“What can you do?”
“I can make money for you, as much as you want.”
“All right, make some.” So the imp showed him how to do it.
“Take some leaves from this oak and rub them in your hands, and gold will fall out on the ground.”
Iván took some leaves and rubbed them, and gold ran down from his hands.
“This stuff will do fine,” said he, “for the fellows to play with on their holidays.”
“Now let me go,” said the imp.
“All right,” said Iván, and taking a lever he set the imp free. “Now begone! And God be with you,” says he.
As soon as he mentioned God, the imp plunged into the earth, like a stone into water. Only a hole was left.
VI
So the brothers built houses, and began to live apart; and Iván finished the harvest work, brewed beer, and invited his brothers to spend the next holiday with him. His brothers would not come.
“We don’t care about peasant feasts,” they said.
So Iván entertained the peasants and their wives, and drank until he was rather tipsy. Then he went into the street to a circle of dancers; and going up to them he told the women to sing a song in his honor; “for,” said he, “I will give you something you never saw in your lives before!”
The women laughed and sang his praises, and when they had finished they said, “Now let us have your gift!”
“I will bring it directly,” said he.
He took a seed-basket and ran into the woods. The women laughed and said, “He is a fool!” and they began to talk of something else.
But soon Iván came running back, carrying the basket, now full of something heavy.
“Shall I give it you?”
“Yes! give it to us.”
Iván took a handful of gold and threw it to the women. You should have seen them throw themselves upon it to pick it up! And the men around scrambled for it and snatched it from one another. One old woman was nearly crushed to death. Iván laughed.
“Oh, you fools!” says he. “Why did you nearly crush the old grandmother? Be quiet, and I will give you some more,” and he threw them some more.
The people all crowded round, and Iván threw them all the gold he had. They asked for even more, but Iván said, “I have no more just now. Another time I’ll give you some more. Now let us dance, and you can sing me your songs.”
The women began to sing.
“Your songs are no good,” says he.
“Where will you find better ones?” say they.
“I’ll soon show you,” says he.
He went to the barn, took a sheaf, thrashed it, stood it up, and bumped it on the ground.
“Now,” said he:
“O sheaf! my slave
This order gave:
Where a straw has been
Let a soldier be seen!”
The sheaf fell asunder and became so many soldiers. The drums and trumpets began to play. Iván ordered the soldiers to play and sing. He led them out into the street, and the people were amazed. The soldiers played and sang, and then Iván (forbidding anyone to follow him) led them back to the thrashing ground, changed them into a sheaf again, and threw it in its place.
Then he went home and lay down in the stables to sleep.
VII
Simon the Soldier heard of all these things next morning and went to his brother.
“Tell me,” says he, “where you got those soldiers from, and where you have taken them to.”
“What does it matter to you?” said Iván.
“What does it matter? Why, with soldiers one can do anything. One can win a kingdom.”
Iván pondered that.
“Really!” said he. “Why didn’t you say so before? I’ll make you as many as you like. It’s well the lass and I have thrashed so much straw.”
Iván took his brother to the barn and said: “Look here; if I make you some soldiers, you must take them away at once, for if we have to feed them, they will eat up the whole village in a day.”
Simon the Soldier promised to lead the soldiers away, and Iván began to make them. He bumped a sheaf on the thrashing floor—a company appeared. He bumped another sheaf, and there was a second company. He made so many that they covered the field.
“Will that do?” he asked.
Simon was overjoyed and said: “That will do! Thank you, Iván!”
“All right,” said Iván. “If you want more, come back, and I’ll make them. There is plenty of straw this season.”
Simon the Soldier at once took command of his army, organized it, and went off to make war.
Hardly had Simon the Soldier gone, when Tarás the Stout came along. He, too, had heard of yesterday’s affair, and he said to his brother:
“Show me where you get gold money! If I only had some to start with, I could make it bring me in money from all over the world.”
Iván was astonished.
“Really!” said he. “You should have told me sooner. I will make you as much as you like.”
His brother was delighted.
“Give me three baskets-full to begin with.”
“All right,” said Iván. “Come into the forest; or better still, let us harness the mare, for you won’t be able to carry it all.”
They drove to the forest, and Iván began to rub the oak leaves. He made a great heap of gold.
“Will that do?”
Tarás was overjoyed.
“It will do for the present,” he said. “Thank you, Iván!”
“All right,” says Iván, “if you want more, come back for it. There are plenty of leaves left.”
Tarás the Stout gathered up a whole cartload of money and went off to trade.
So the two brothers went away: Simon to fight, and Tarás to buy and sell. In time, Simon the Soldier conquered a kingdom for himself; and Tarás the Stout made much money in trade.
When the two brothers met, each told the other: Simon how he got the soldiers, and Tarás how he got the money.
Simon the Soldier said to his brother, I have conquered a kingdom and live in grand style, but I have not money enough to keep my soldiers.”
Tarás the Stout said, “And I have made much money, but the trouble is, I have no one to guard it.”
Then said Simon the Soldier, “Let us go to our brother. I will tell him to make more soldiers, and will give them to you to guard your money, and you can tell him to make money for me to feed my men.”
And so they came again to Iván; and Simon said, “Dear brother, I have not enough soldiers; make me another couple of ricks or so.”
Iván shook his head.
“No!” says he, “I will not make any more soldiers.”
“But you promised you would.”
“I know I promised, but I won’t make any more.”
“But why not, fool?”
“Because your soldiers killed a man. I was ploughing the other day near the road, and I saw a woman taking a coffin along in a cart and crying. I asked her who was dead. She said, “Simon’s soldiers have killed my husband in the war.” I thought the soldiers would only play tunes, but they have killed a man. I won’t give you any more.”
And he stuck to it, and would not make any more soldiers.
Tarás the Stout, too, began to beg Iván to make him more gold money. But Iván shook his head.
“No, I won’t make any more,” said he.
“Didn’t you promise?”
“I did, but I’ll make no more,” said he.
“Why not, fool?”
“Because your gold coins took away the cow from Michael’s daughter.”
“How?”
“Simply took it away! Michael’s daughter had a cow. Her children used to drink the milk. But the other day her children came to me to ask for milk. I said, ‘Where’s your cow?’ They answered, ‘The steward of Tarás the Stout came and gave mother three bits of gold, and she gave him the cow, so we have nothing to drink.’ I thought you were only going to play with the gold pieces, but you have taken the children’s cow away. I will not give you any more.”
Iván stuck to his decision and would not give him any more. So the brothers went away.
And as they went they discussed how they could meet their difficulties.
Simon said: “Look here, I tell you what to do. You give me money to feed my soldiers, and I will give you half my kingdom with soldiers enough to guard your money.”
Tarás agreed. So the brothers divided what they possessed, and both became kings, and both were rich.
VIII
Iván lived at home, supporting his father and mother and working in the fields with his mute sister. Now it happened that Iván’s yard-dog fell sick, grew mangy, and was near death. Iván, pitying it, got some bread from his sister, put it in his cap, carried it out, and threw it to the dog. But the cap was torn, and together with the bread one of the little roots fell to the ground. The old dog ate it up with the bread, and as soon as she had swallowed it she jumped up and began to play, bark, and wag her tail—in short, became quite well again.
The father and mother saw this and were amazed.
“How did you cure the dog?” they asked.
Iván answered: “I had two little roots to cure any pain, and she swallowed one.”
Now, about that time, it happened that the King’s daughter fell ill, and the King proclaimed in every town and village that he would reward anyone who could heal her, and if any unmarried man could heal the King’s daughter he should have her for his wife. This news came to Iván’s village as well as everywhere else.
His father and mother called to Iván, and said to him: “Have you heard what the King has proclaimed? You said you had a root that would cure any sickness. Go and heal the King’s daughter, and you will be made happy for life.”
“All right,” he said.
Iván prepared to go, and they dressed him in his best. But as he went out of the door he met a beggar woman with a crippled hand.
“I have heard,” said she, “that you can heal people. I pray you cure my arm, for I cannot even put on my boots myself.”
“All right,” said Iván, and giving the little root to the beggar woman he told her to swallow it.
She swallowed it and was cured. She was at once able to move her arm freely.
His father and mother came out to accompany Iván to the King, but when they heard that he had given away the root, and that he had nothing left to cure the King’s daughter with, they began to scold him.
“You pity a beggar woman but aren’t sorry for the King’s daughter!”
But Iván felt sorry for the King’s daughter also. So he harnessed the horse, put straw in the cart to sit on, and sat down to drive away.
“Where are you going, fool?”
“To cure the King’s daughter.”
“But you’ve nothing left to cure her with?”
“Never mind,” he said, and went off.
He drove to the King’s palace, and as soon as he stepped on the threshold the King’s daughter got well.
The King was delighted, and had Iván brought to him, and had him dressed in fine robes.
“Be my son-in-law,” said he.
“All right,” Iván said.
So Iván married the Princess. Her father died soon after, and Iván became King. So all three brothers were now kings.
IX
The three brothers lived and reigned. The eldest brother, Simon the Soldier, prospered. With his straw soldiers he acquired real soldiers. He ordered throughout his whole kingdom a levy of one soldier from every ten houses, and each soldier had to be tall, and clean in body and in face. He gathered many such soldiers and trained them; and when any one opposed him, he sent these soldiers at once, and got his own way, so that everyone began to fear him, and his life was a comfortable one. Whatever he cast his eyes on and wished for, was his. All he had to do is send soldiers, and they brought him all he desired.
Tarás the Stout also lived comfortably. He did not waste the money he got from Iván but increased it greatly. He introduced law and order into his kingdom. He kept his money in coffers and taxed the people. He instituted a poll-tax, tolls for walking and driving, and a tax on shoes and stockings and dress trimmings. And whatever he wished for he got. For the sake of money, people brought him everything, and they offered to work for him—for everyone wanted money.
Iván the Fool did not live badly, either. As soon as he had buried his father-in-law, he took off all his royal robes and gave them to his wife to put away in a chest; and he again donned his hempen shirt, his breeches and peasant shoes, and started again to work.
“Life is dull for me,” he said. “I’m getting fat and have lost my appetite and my sleep.”
So he brought his father and mother and his mute si
ster to live with him, and worked as before.
People said, “But you are a king!”
“Yes,” said he, “but even a king must eat.”
One of his ministers came to him and said, “We have no money to pay salaries.”
“All right,” he said, “then don’t pay them.”
“Then no one will serve.”
“All right; let them not serve. They will have more time to work; let them cart manure. There is plenty of scavenging to be done.”
People came to Iván to be tried in court. One said, “He stole my money.” And Iván said, “All right, that shows that he wanted it.”
Soon everyone knew that Iván was a fool. Even his wife said to him, “People say that you are a fool.”
“All right,” Iván said.
His wife thought and thought about that, but she also was a fool.
“Shall I go against my husband? Where the needle goes the thread follows,” she decided.
So she took off her royal dress, put it away in a chest, and went to the mute girl to learn to work. And she learned to work and began to help her husband.
All the wise men left Iván’s kingdom; only the fools remained.
Nobody had money. They lived and worked. They fed themselves; and they fed others.
X
The old Devil waited and waited for news from the imps that they had finally ruined the three brothers. But no news came. So he went himself to inquire about it. He searched and searched, but instead of finding the three imps he found only the three holes!
“Evidently they have failed,” he thought. “I shall have to tackle it myself.”
So he went to look for the brothers, but they were no longer in their old places. He found them in three different kingdoms. All three were living and reigning. This annoyed the old Devil very much.
“Well,” said he, “I must try my own hand at the job.”
The Big Book of Classic Fantasy Page 46