Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library)

by Afanas'Ev, Aleksandr

Next morning King Kirbit woke up and arose, saw that the top of the tower was broken and his daughter stolen, grew terribly angry, and ordered pursuers to set out after her in all directions. Our knights-errant rode a long time or a short time, then Bulat the Brave removed the ring from his hand, hid it, and said: “Ride on, Prince Ivan; but I will turn back and look for my ring.” Vasilisa Kirbitievna began to beseech him: “Do not leave us, Bulat the Brave! If you wish, I will give you my ring.” He answered: “That is impossible, Vasilisa Kirbitievna. My ring is priceless; my own mother gave it to me, and when she gave it she said: ‘Wear it, lose it not, forget not your mother.’ ” Bulat the Brave rode back and met the pursuers on the road; he straightway slew them all, leaving only one man to bring the news to the king, and hastened to catch up with Prince Ivan. They rode for a long time or a short time, then Bulat the Brave hid his handkerchief and said: “Ah, Prince Ivan, I have lost my handkerchief; ride on, and I will catch up with you soon.” He turned back, rode several versts, and met twice as many pursuers; he slew them all and returned to Prince Ivan. The prince asked: “Have you found your handkerchief?” “I have,” said Bulat.

  Dark night overtook them. They pitched a tent; Bulat the Brave lay down to sleep, set Prince Ivan to guarding the tent, and said to him: “If anything happens, rouse me.” The prince stood and stood, then grew tired; drowsiness overcame him, he sat down at the door of the tent, and fell asleep. Suddenly Koshchey the Deathless appeared and carried off Vasilisa Kirbitievna. At daybreak Prince Ivan awoke, saw that his bride was gone, and wept bitterly. Bulat the Brave woke up too and asked him: “Why are you weeping?” “How can I help weeping? Someone has stolen Vasilisa Kirbitievna.” “I told you to keep watch. This is the work of Koshchey the Deathless; let us set out to find the old rattlebones.” They rode for a long, long time, then they beheld two shepherds grazing a flock. “Whose flock is this?” they asked. The shepherds answered: “It belongs to Koshchey the Deathless.” Bulat the Brave and Prince Ivan questioned the herdsmen as to whether Koshchey the Deathless lived far from there, how to get to him, when they, the herdsmen, were accustomed to return home with the flock, and where it was shut up for the night. Then they climbed down from their horses, wrung the necks of the herdsmen, dressed themselves in the latters’ clothes, and drove the flock home; when they came to the place they stood at the gate.

  Prince Ivan had a gold ring on his hand: Vasilisa Kirbitievna had given it to him. And Vasilisa Kirbitievna had a goat: mornings and evenings she washed in the milk of that goat. A maid came with a cup, milked the goat, and turned back with the milk. Bulat took the prince’s ring and threw it into the cup. “Oh, my friends,” said the maid, “you are playing pranks.” She came to Vasilisa Kirbitievna and complained: “The herdsmen are now making mock of us; they threw a ring into the milk.” The maiden answered: “Leave the milk, I will strain it myself.” She strained it, saw the ring, and ordered the herdsmen to be brought before her. The herdsmen came. “Good day, Vasilisa Kirbitievna,” said Bxdat the Brave. “Good day, Bulat the Brave. Good day, prince. How has God brought you here?” “We have come for you, Vasilisa Kirbitievna. Nowhere shall you hide from us; even in the depths of the sea we shall find you.” She seated them at the table, gave them a variety of viands to eat and wines to drink. Bulat the Brave said to her: “When Koshchey returns from hunting, ask him where his death is. And now it would not be a bad idea for us to hide.”

  The guests had no sooner hidden than Koshchey the Deathless came flying back from the hunt. “Fie, fie!” he said. “Formerly there was no breath of anything Russian here, nor could a glimpse be caught of it, but now something Russian has come here in person and is offending my nose.” Vasilisa Kirbitievna answered him: “You have been flying through Russia, and yourself have become full of it, and now you fancy it is here.” Koshchey ate his dinner and lay down to rest. Vasilisa came to him, threw herself on his neck, and kissed him and fondled him, saying: “My beloved friend, I could hardly wait for you; I began to think that I would never again see you alive, that wild beasts had devoured you.” Koshchey laughed. “You foolish woman! Your hair is long, but your wit is short. How could wild beasts devour me?” “But where is your death then?” “My death is in that broom that stands at the threshold.” As soon as Koshchey flew away, Vasilisa Kirbitievna ran to Prince Ivan. Bulat the Brave asked her: “Well, where is Koshchey’s death?” “In that broom that stands on the threshold.” “No, that is a deliberate lie; you must question him more cunningly.”

  Vasilisa Kirbitievna thought up something: she took the broom, gilded it, decorated it with many ribbons, and put it on the table. When Koshchey the Deathless came home and saw the gilded broom on the table, he asked her why she had arranged it so. “I could not allow your death to stand thus unceremoniously at the threshold,” said Vasilisa Kirbitievna. “It is better to have it on the table.” “Ha, ha, ha, you foolish woman! Your hair is long but your wit is short. Do you think my death is here?” “Where is it then?” “My death is hidden in the goat.”

  As soon as Koshchey left for the hunt, Vasilisa Kirbitievna adorned the goat with ribbons and bells and gilded his horns. Koshchey saw it, and he laughed again and said: “Eh, you foolish woman, your hair is long but your wit is short. My death is far away. In the sea there is an island, on that island stands an oak, under the oak a coffer is buried, in the coffer is a hare, in the hare is a duck, in the duck is an egg, and in the egg is my death.” Having said this, he flew off. Vasilisa Kirbitievna repeated all this to Bulat the Brave and to Prince Ivan; they took provisions and set out to find Koshchey’s death. After a long time or a short time they had used up all their provisions and began to feel hungry. They happened to come upon a dog with her young. “I will kill her,” said Bulat the Brave, “for we have nothing more to eat.” “Do not kill me,” begged the dog. “Do not make my children orphans. I will be useful to you.” “Well,” they said, “God be with you.” They walked on, and saw an eagle with her eaglets sitting on an oak. Bulat the Brave said: “I will kill the eagle.” The eagle said: “Do not kill me, do not make my children orphans, I will be useful to you.” “So be it,” they said, “live in health.”

  They came to the wide ocean. A lobster crawled on the shore. Bulat the Brave said: “I will kill him.” The lobster answered: “Do not kill me, good youth! There is not much substance in me; even if you eat me, you will not be sated. The time will come when I may be useful to you.” “Well, crawl on with God,” said Bulat the Brave. He looked at the sea, saw a fisherman in a boat, and cried: “Come to shore!” The fisherman brought the boat; Prince Ivan and Bulat the Brave seated themselves in it and sailed for the island. They reached the island and went to the oak. Bulat grasped the oak with his mighty hands and tore it out by the roots. He got the coffer from under the oak and opened it, and from the coffer a hare jumped out and ran away as fast as it could. “Ah,” said Prince Ivan, “if we had a dog here, he would catch the hare.” Lo and behold, the dog was already bringing the hare. Bulat the Brave took it, tore it open, and from the hare a duck flew out and soared high into the sky. “Ah,” said Prince Ivan, “if we had the eagle now, he could catch the duck.” Lo and behold, the eagle was bringing the duck. Bulat the Brave tore open the duck, and an egg rolled out from it and fell into the sea. “Ah,” said the prince, “if only the lobster would bring it up!” And lo and behold, the lobster was crawling toward them with the egg. They took the egg, went to Koshchey the Deathless, struck him on the forehead with the egg, and he instantly fell sprawling to the ground and died. Prince Ivan took Vasilisa Kirbitievna and they set out on their way.

  They rode and rode. Dark night overtook them; they pitched a tent, and Vasilisa Kirbitievna lay down to sleep. Bulat the Brave said: “Lie down too, prince, I will keep watch.” At midnight twelve doves came flying, struck wing against wing, and turned into twelve maidens. “Now, Bulat the Brave and Prince Ivan,” they said, “you have killed our brother, Koshchey the Deathless, and stolen our sister-in-law,
Vasilisa Kirbitievna. But you won’t profit by it. When Prince Ivan comes home, he will order his favorite dog to be brought out, and she will break away from the dog keeper and tear the princess into little pieces. And he who hears this and tells it to the prince will become stone to the knees.”

  Next morning Bulat the Brave roused the prince and Vasilisa Kirbitievna, and they made ready and set out on their way. A second night overtook them; they pitched their tent in the open field. Bulat the Brave said again: “Lie down to sleep, Prince Ivan, and I will keep watch.” At midnight twelve doves came flying, struck wing against wing, and turned into twelve maidens. “Well, Bulat the Brave and Prince Ivan,” they said, “you have killed Koshchey the Deathless, our brother, and stolen Vasilisa Kirbitievna, our sister-in-law, but you won’t profit by it. When Prince Ivan comes home, he will order his favorite horse to be brought out, the horse on which he has been wont to ride since childhood; the horse will break away from the groom and kill the prince. And he who hears this and tells it to the prince will become stone to the waist.” Morning came and they rode on again. A third night overtook them; they stopped to spend the night and pitched their tent in the open field. Bulat the Brave said: “Lie down to sleep, Prince Ivan, and I will keep watch.” Again at midnight twelve doves came flying, struck wing against wing, and turned into twelve maidens. “Well, Bulat the Brave and Prince Ivan,” they said, “you have killed Koshchey the Deathless, our brother, and stolen Vasilisa Kirbitievna, our sister-in-law, but you won’t profit by it; when Prince Ivan comes home, he will order his favorite cow to be brought out, the cow whose milk has nourished him since childhood: she will wrench herself free from the cowherd and spear the prince on her horns. And he who sees and hears us and tells this to the prince, will become stone altogether.” When they had said this, they turned into doves and flew off.

  Next morning Prince Ivan and Vasilisa Kirbitievna awoke and set out on their way. The prince came home, married Vasilisa Kirbitievna, and after a day or two said to her: “Do you want me to show you my favorite dog? When I was little, I played with it.” Bulat the Brave took his saber, whetted it—he made it very sharp—and stood near the porch. The dog was led out; it wrested itself free from the dog keeper and ran straight toward the porch, but Bulat swung his saber and cut the dog in twain. Prince Ivan was angry at him, but remembering his former services, did not say a word. The next day Ivan ordered his favorite horse to be brought out; the horse broke his halter, wrested himself free from the groom, and galloped straight at the prince. Bulat the Brave cut off the horse’s head. Prince Ivan grew even angrier than before and ordered Bulat to be seized and hanged, but Vasilisa Kirbitievna obtained his pardon. “Had it not been for him,” she said, “you would never have won me.” On the third day Prince Ivan ordered his favorite cow to be brought out; she wrested herself free from the cowherd and ran straight toward the prince. Bulat the Brave cut off her head too.

  Now Prince Ivan became so enraged that he refused to listen to anyone; he ordered the hangman to be summoned and commanded that Bulat be put to death at once. “Ah, Prince Ivan,” Bulat said, “now that you have ordered your hangman to put me to death, I would rather die by my own hand. Only let me speak three speeches.” Bulat told him about the first night, how twelve doves came flying, and what they had said to him—and straightway he became stone to the knees; he told about the second night, and became stone to the waist. Prince Ivan besought him not to speak to the end. Bulat the Brave answered: “Now it is all the same; I am half stone, it is not worth while living longer.” He told about the third night and became stone altogether. Prince Ivan put him in a separate chamber and went there every day with Vasilisa Kirbitievna and lamented bitterly.

  Many years went by. One day Prince Ivan was lamenting over Bulat when he heard a voice coming from the stone figure. “Why are you weeping?” the voice said. “I am grieved even without your weeping.” “How can I help weeping? After all, it is I who destroyed you.” “If you wish, you can save me. You have two children, a son and a daughter; slay them, draw their blood, and smear my stone with the blood.” Prince Ivan told this to Vasilisa Kirbitievna; they grieved and lamented, but decided to slay their children. They slew them, drew their blood, and as soon as they smeared the stone with it Bulat the Brave came to life. He asked the prince and his wife: “Are you heartbroken over your children?” “We are, Bulat the Brave.” “Well then, let us go to their rooms.” They went, and lo and behold, the children were alive. The father and mother were overjoyed and in their joy gave a feast for all. I was at that feast too, I drank mead and wine there; it ran down my mustache but did not go into my mouth, yet my soul was drunk and sated.

  THE FIREBIRD AND PRINCESS VASILISA

  IN A CERTAIN KINGDOM, beyond the thrice ninth land, in the thrice tenth realm, there lived a strong and mighty king. This king had a brave huntsman and the brave huntsman had a valiant horse. One day the huntsman went on his valiant horse to hunt in the woods. He rode and rode along the broad path, and suddenly he came upon a golden feather of the Firebird; it shone bright as a flame! The valiant horse said to him: “Take not the golden feather; if you take it, you will know trouble!” And the brave youth turned the matter over in his mind: should he pick up the feather or not? If he picked it up, he thought, and presented it to the king, he would be generously rewarded; and who does not value the king’s favor?

  So the huntsman did not heed his horse; he picked up the feather of the Firebird and brought it to the king as a gift. “Thank you!” said the king. “But since you have found the feather of the Firebird, get me the bird itself. If you do not, by my sword your head shall fall!” The huntsman wept bitter tears and went to his valiant horse. “Why are you weeping, master?” the good steed asked. “The king has ordered me to get him the Firebird.” “Did I not warn you not to take the feather, or you would know trouble? Well, fear not, grieve not. This is not trouble yet—the real trouble lies ahead! Go to the king, ask that by tomorrow one hundred measures of corn be strewn on the open field.”

  Next day at dawn the brave huntsman rode to that field, set his horse loose, and hid behind a tree. Suddenly the woods rustled and the waves rose on the sea—the Firebird was flying. She arrived at the field, alighted, and began to peck the corn. The valiant horse approached the Firebird, stepped with his hoof on her wing, and pressed it hard to the ground; the brave huntsman jumped from behind the tree, ran to the Firebird, tied her with cords, mounted his horse, and galloped to the palace. He presented the Firebird to the king. The king gazed upon the bird with delight, thanked the huntsman for his services, promoted him to noble rank, and straightway charged him with another task. “Since you were able to get the Firebird,” the king said, “you must now get me a bride. Beyond the thrice ninth land, at the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises, lives Princess Vasilisa—it is she whom I desire. If you get her, I will reward you with silver and gold; if you do not, by my sword your head shall fall!”

  The huntsman shed bitter tears and went to his valiant horse. “Why are you weeping, master?” asked the horse. “The king has commanded me to get Princess Vasilisa for him.” “Weep not, grieve not. This is still not trouble—the real trouble lies ahead! Go to the king, ask for a tent with a golden top and all kinds of meats and drink for the journey.” The king gave him meats and drink and a tent with a golden top as well. The brave huntsman mounted his valiant horse and rode beyond the thrice ninth land. After some time, a short time or a long time, he came to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises from the blue sea. He looked out; on the blue sea Princess Vasilisa was sailing in a silver boat rowed with golden oars. The brave huntsman set his horse loose to roam in the green meadows and eat fresh grass. As for himself, he pitched his golden-topped tent, set out all sorts of food and drink, sat in the tent, and regaled himself while he waited for Princess Vasilisa.

  Princess Vasilisa spied the golden top of the tent, sailed to the shore, stepped off her boat, and admired the tent. “Greeti
ngs, Princess Vasilisa!” said the huntsman. “Welcome! pray be my guest and taste my foreign wines.” Princess Vasilisa entered the tent; they began to eat, drink, and enjoy themselves. The princess drank a glass of foreign wine, became drunk, and fell sound asleep. The huntsman called his valiant horse, and the horse came running; the huntsman folded his golden-topped tent, mounted the valiant horse, laid the sleeping Princess Vasilisa across his saddle, and set out on his way, as swiftly as an arrow flies from a bow.

  They came to the king, who, when he beheld Princess Vasilisa, rejoiced greatly; he thanked the huntsman for his loyal service, rewarded him with an enormous treasure, and promoted him to high rank. Princess Vasilisa awoke, discovered that she was far from the blue sea, and began to weep and grieve. Her fair face was completely beclouded. No matter what the king said to comfort her, all was in vain. The king wanted to marry her, but she said: “Let him who brought me here go to the blue sea. In the middle of that sea lies a great stone, under that stone my wedding gown is hid. Without that gown I will not wed!” The king at once sent for the brave huntsman and said to him: “Hasten to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises; there in the blue sea a great stone lies, and under that stone Princess Vasilisa’s wedding gown is hid. Get that gown and bring it here; it is time to celebrate my wedding! If you get it, I will reward you even more richly than before; if you do not, by my sword your head shall fall!”

  The huntsman shed bitter tears and went to his valiant horse. “This time,” he thought, “I surely shall not escape death!” “Why are you weeping, master?” asked the horse. “The king has commanded me to get Princess Vasilisa’s wedding gown from the bottom of the sea.” “Now you see! Did I not tell you not to take the golden feather, or you would know trouble? Well, fear not; this is not trouble yet—the real trouble lies ahead! Sit on me and let us go to the blue sea.”