Without losing a moment he galloped to the archer, found his hut, entered the woman’s room, and as soon as he saw Fedot’s wife forgot himself and his business. He no longer knew what he had come for: before him was such a beauty that he did not want to take his eyes off her till the end of his days—he wanted to stare and stare at her. He looked at the other man’s wife and all sorts of thoughts went through his head. “Whoever heard of a simple soldier possessing such a treasure?” he said to himself. “Although I am attached to the king’s person and have the rank of general, I have never seen such a beauty.” At last the steward with a great effort recovered his senses and reluctantly went home. From that moment on he was not himself; awake or asleep, he thought only of the marksman’s beautiful wife. He could neither eat nor drink—she was ever in his mind.
The king noticed this and asked him: “What has happened to you? Do you have some grief?” “Ah, Your Majesty,” said the steward, “I have seen the wife of an archer, and there is no such beauty in the whole world; all day long I think of her, I cannot banish the thought of her by eating or drinking, nor by means of any magic potion!” The king himself desired to see this beauty; he ordered his carriage and drove to the archer’s quarters. He entered the room and beheld an unimaginable beauty; she was so lovely that whoever looked at her, old or young, would fall madly in love with her. The king’s heart was oppressed with a burning passion. “Why should I remain unmarried?” he thought to himself. “I should marry this beauty; she should not remain a marksman’s wife—she was born to be a queen.”
The king returned to his palace and said to his steward: “Listen, you have known how to show me the archer’s wife, that incomparable beauty; now learn how to destroy her husband. I want to marry her myself. And if you fail to destroy him, blame yourself, for although you are my faithful servant, you shall hang on the gallows.” The steward left more grieved than before; he could not devise a way of getting rid of the archer.
He walked through waste places and back alleys and met Baba Yaga. “Halt, servant of the king,” she said. “I know all your thoughts; do you want me to help you in your deep trouble?” “Help me, grandmother, I will pay you whatever you wish.” “The king has ordered you to destroy Fedot the marksman. That would be an easy matter, for he is simple, but his wife is cunning. But we shall give her such a task that they will not perform it soon. Return to the king and say to him that beyond thrice nine lands, in the thrice tenth kingdom, there is an island; on that island there is a stag with golden horns. Let the king gather together fifty sailors, the worst, most inveterate drunkards, and let him order an old, rotten ship—that has been listed as out of service for thirty years—to be rigged up for the voyage; and on that ship let him send Fedot the archer to get the stag with the golden horns. To get to the island one must sail three years, not more nor less, and to return from the island one must sail another three years—six in all The ship will go out to sea, it will sail a month and then will sink; the archer and the sailors will all go to the bottom.”
The steward listened to these words, thanked Baba Yaga for her advice, rewarded her with gold, and ran to the king. “Your Majesty,” he said, “the marksman can be destroyed in such and such a manner.” The king consented and straightway ordered his navy to prepare an old, rotten ship for the voyage, to load it with provisions for six years, and to man it with fifty sailors, the most dissolute and inveterate drunkards. Messengers ran to all the alehouses and inns, and gathered together a gang of such sailors that they were a sight to behold—some had black eyes, some had noses twisted to one side. As soon as it was reported to the king that the ship was ready, he straightway summoned the archer to his presence, and said to him: “Well, Fedot, you are a brave man, the first marksman in your company; do me a service, go beyond thrice nine lands, to the thrice tenth kingdom. There you will find an island and on that island is a stag with golden horns; catch him alive and bring him here.” The marksman became pensive and did not know what to say. “Like it or not,” said the king. “But if you do not perform this task, by my sword your head will roll.”
Fedot turned on his heel and left the palace; at night he came home sorely grieved and refusing to speak a word. His wife asked him: “Why are you sad, my beloved? Is there some trouble?” He told her everything. “So that is why you are grieved! There is little reason for it—for this is child’s play, not a task. Pray to God and go to sleep. The morning is wiser than the evening; everything will be done.” The marksman lay down and fell asleep, but his wife opened the magic book and suddenly two spirits appeared before her. “What do you wish? What shall we do?” they asked. “Go beyond thrice nine lands, to the thrice tenth kingdom, to the island, catch the stag with the golden horns, and bring him here.” “We shall obey; everything will be done by daybreak.”
Like a whirlwind they flew to that island, seized the stag with the golden horns, and brought him straight to the marksman’s courtyard; one hour before dawn they had done their task and vanished as though they had never been there. The marksman’s beautiful wife roused her husband at an early hour and said to him: “Go out and see—the stag with the golden horns is walking in your yard. Take him on board ship with you, sail out for five days, and on the sixth turn back.” The marksman put the stag into a closed cage and carried him on board ship. “What is in there?” asked the sailors. “Various provisions and herbs,” said the marksman; “the voyage will be long, we shall need all sorts of things.”
On the day of the sailing a great crowd of people came to see the ship off. The king also came, said farewell to Fedot, and appointed him captain of all the sailors. For five days the ship sailed on the sea; the shores had long been lost to view. Fedot ordered a wine cask of a hundred and twenty gallons to be rolled on the deck and said to the sailors: “Drink, brothers! Do not be sparing—your wish is your measure!” They asked for nothing better, rushed to the cask, and fell to drinking. They got so drunk that they dropped right there by the cask and fell sound asleep. The marksman took the helm, turned the ship toward the shore, and sailed homeward; and to keep the sailors from being aware of anything, he poured wine into them from morning till night. As soon as they opened their eyes after one drinking bout, another cask was ready, tempting them to drink again.
On the eleventh day the ship anchored in the port, hoisted a flag, and began to fire her guns. The king heard the firing and straightway came to the port, wondering what the noise was about. He saw the archer, became angry, and fell upon him with great fury, saying: “How dare you return before time?” “Where was I to go, Your Majesty?” the archer said. “Some fool might have sailed for ten years over the seas without accomplishing anything, but we, instead of journeying six years, traveled for ten days and did the work. Would you like to see the stag with the golden horns?” Straightway the cage was brought from the ship and the stag with the golden horns was let out. The king saw that the archer was right, that he could not be charged with anything. He gave the archer leave to go home and granted the sailors who had accompanied him a six years’ furlough; no one could draft them for service during those years, for they had served their time.
The next day the king summoned his steward and fell upon him with threats. “Are you playing tricks on me?” he said. “Apparently your head is not dear to you. Do it in any way you please, but find some way of putting Fedot to a cruel death.” “Your Royal Majesty,” the steward said, “please give me time to think, perhaps I can set things to rights.” The steward went along back alleys and waste places and met Baba Yaga. “Halt, servant of the king! I know your thoughts; do you want me to help you in your trouble?” “Help me, grandmother! The archer has returned and brought the stag with the golden horns.” “Oh, I have heard that! He himself is a simple man, it would be easy to destroy him—as easy as to take a pinch of snuff. But his wife is very cunning. Well, we shall charge her with another task, which she will not be able to perform so quickly. Go to the king and say to him: ‘Send the archer I know
not whither, and let him bring back I know not what.’ He won’t perform that task in the time of all eternity; he will either be lost without a trace or return empty-handed.”
The steward rewarded Baba Yaga with gold and ran to the king, who listened to him and ordered the archer to be summoned. “Well, Fedot, you are a brave man, the first marksman of your company. You have rendered me one service, you have brought me the stag with the golden horns. Now render me another: go I know not whither, bring me back I know not what. And mind you: if you fail to bring it to me, by my sword your head will roll!” The marksman turned on his heel and left the palace; he came home sad and thoughtful. His wife asked him: “Why are you grieving, my beloved? Do you have another trouble?” “Eh,” he said, “I have just got rid of one trouble, when another one falls on my neck; the king has ordered me to go I know not whither, and ordered me to bring him I know not what. It is because of your beauty that all these misfortunes beset me.” “Yes, this is no little task! To get there takes nine years, and it takes nine years to return; that makes eighteen years in all. And whether any good will come of it, God only knows.” “Then what can we do?” “Pray to God and go to sleep; the morning is wiser than the evening. Tomorrow you will know all.”
The archer went to sleep, but his wife waited for the night, opened her magic book, and two spirits appeared at once. “What do you wish, what is your command?” they asked. “Do you know how to go I know not whither and bring back I know not what?” “No, we do not know.” She closed the book and the spirits vanished. Next morning she roused her husband. “Go to the king and ask for gold for your journey—you will have to wander for eighteen years. And when you have received the money, come to say farewell to me.” The marksman went to the king, received a bagful of gold from the treasury, and came to say farewell to his wife. She gave him a handkerchief and a ball, and said: “When you are outside the town, throw this ball before you, and wherever it rolls follow it. And here is a handkerchief I myself wrought; wherever you find yourself—when you wash, wipe your face with this handkerchief.” The marksman said farewell to his wife and comrades, bowed low to all four sides, and went beyond the gates of the town. He threw the ball before him; the ball rolled and rolled, and he followed it.
A month went by. The king summoned the steward and said to him: “The archer has gone to wander about the wide world for eighteen years, and it is clear that he will not return alive—for eighteen years is not two weeks, and much can happen to him on the way. He has a great deal of money; brigands may attack him, rob him, and put him to a cruel death. I think we can set about getting his wife. Take my carriage, drive to the archer’s quarters, and bring her to the palace.” The steward drove to the archer’s quarters, came to Fedot’s beautiful wife, entered her hut, and said: “Good day, clever woman; the king has ordered me to bring you to the palace.” She went to the palace; the king received her joyfully, led her to gilded chambers, and spoke to her thus: “Do you want to be queen? I will marry you.” “Where has it been seen, where has it been heard of, to take a wife from her living husband?” the archer’s wife said. “Although he is a simple marksman, he is my lawful husband.” “If you do not yield of your own free will, I will use force.” The beauty smiled, struck the floor, turned into a dove, and flew out of the window.
The archer passed through many kingdoms and lands, and the ball kept rolling. Whenever he came to a river, the ball spanned it as a bridge; whenever he wanted to rest, the ball spread out as a downy bed. After a long time or a short time—for speedily a tale is spun, with much less speed a deed is done—the archer came to a large and magnificent palace; the ball rolled up to the door and vanished. The archer thought and thought and went straight on. He walked up the stairs into the chambers and was met by three maidens of indescribable beauty, who said: “Whence and wherefore have you come, good man?” “Ah, lovely maidens,” he replied, “you have not let me rest from my long journey—yet you have begun to question me. You should first give me meat and drink, put me to rest, and only then ask my business.” Straightway they set the table, gave him meat and drink, and put him to sleep.
The marksman had a good sleep, then rose from the soft bed; the lovely maidens brought him a washing basin and an embroidered towel. He washed himself in the spring water but refused to take the towel. “I have a handkerchief,” he said, “I’ll wipe my face with that.” He took out his handkerchief and began to wipe himself. The lovely maidens asked him: “Good man, tell us, where did you get that handkerchief?” “My wife gave it to me.” “If so, you are the husband of our own sister!” They called their old mother, and as soon as she cast a glance at the handkerchief, she recognized it. “This is the handiwork of my daughter,” she said. She began to question the visitor; he told her how he had married her daughter and that the king had sent him he knew not whither, to bring him he knew not what. “Ah, my dear son-in-law, of that marvel even I have not heard!” the mother said. “But wait a minute, perhaps my servants will know of it.”
The old woman went out on the porch and cried out in a loud voice. Suddenly, out of nowhere, all kinds of beasts ran up to her and all kinds of birds flew to her. “Hail, beasts of the forest, birds of the air!” she said. “You beasts run everywhere, you birds fly everywhere. Have you heard how to go I know not whither and how to bring back I know not what?” All the beasts and the birds answered in one voice: “No, we have not heard of that.” The old woman sent them back to their thickets, forests, and groves; she returned to her room, got her magic book, opened it, and straightway two giants appeared before her. “What do you wish, what is your command?” they asked. “This, my faithful servants,” she said. “Carry me and my son-in-law to the broad ocean and stop in the very middle of it, right above the bottomless depth.”
Straightway the giants seized the archer and the old woman and carried them like impetuous winds to the broad ocean and stopped in the middle of it, right above the bottomless depth; they stood there like pillars, holding the marksman and the old woman on their hands. The old woman cried out in a loud voice, and all the sea reptiles and fishes swam up and swarmed around her, in such multitudes that the blue sea could not be seen for the mass of them. “Hail, sea reptiles and fishes!” the old woman said. “You swim everywhere, you visit all the islands; have you not heard how to go I know not whither and how to bring back I know not what?” All the reptiles and fishes answered with one voice: “No, we have not heard of that.” Suddenly a limping old frog, who had been living in retirement for thirty years, pushed herself forward and said: “Qua! qua! I know where such a marvel can be found.” “Well, my dear, you are the one I need,” said the old woman. She took the frog and ordered her giants to carry her and her son-in-law home.
In a trice they found themselves in the palace. The old woman began to question the frog: “How and by what road shall my son-in-law go?” The frog answered: “This palace is at the end of the world—far, far away. I would lead him there myself, but I am terribly old, I can hardly drag my feet; I would not get there in fifty years.” The old woman took a big jar, filled it with fresh milk, put the frog in it, and gave it to her son-in-law. “Hold this jar in your hands,” she said, “and let the frog show you the way.” The archer took the jar with the frog, said farewell to the old woman and her daughters, and set out. He walked and the frog showed him the way.
After he had gone a short distance or a long distance, after a long time or a short time, he came to a river of fire; beyond that river was a high mountain, and in that mountain there was a door. “Qua! qua!” said the frog, “let me out of the jar; we have to cross the river.” The marksman took her out of the jar and put her on the ground. “Now, good youth, sit on me, and do not spare me, you will not smother me.” The archer sat on the frog and pressed her to the ground; the frog began to swell, she swelled and swelled and grew as big as a haystack. All that the marksman could think of was how to keep from falling off: “If I fall I will be smashed to death.” The frog, having swe
lled up, took a jump; she jumped across the river of fire and made herself small again. “Now, good youth,” she said, “go through that door, and I shall wait for you here. You will enter a cave, and then you must hide yourself well. After some time two old men will come there. Listen to what they say and watch what they do; after they have left, speak and do as they did.”
The archer went to the mountain and opened the door; in the cave it was pitch dark. He crawled in and groped his way about; he felt an empty cupboard, seated himself in it, and closed the door. After a short while two old men came into the cave and said: “Hey, Shmat Razum, feed us!” At once, from nowhere, chandeliers were lighted, plates and dishes clattered, wines and meats of every description appeared on the table. The old men drank and ate their fill and commanded: “Hey, Shmat Razum, remove everything!” Suddenly everything disappeared; there was neither table, nor wines, nor meats, and all the lights went out. When the archer knew that the old men were gone, he crept out of his cupboard and cried: “Hey, Shmat Razum!” “What do you wish?” “Feed me.” Again the chandeliers were lighted, the table was set, and there were all kinds of meats and wines on it.
The archer sat at the table and said: “Hey, Shmat Razum! Sit down with me, brother, I don’t like to eat alone.” An invisible voice answered: “Ah, good man, whence has God sent you? It is nearly thirty years that I have served these two old men in truth and faith, and all that time they have not once invited me to sit with them.” The archer looked and marveled: he saw nobody, but it was as though the viands had been swept from the plates with a broom, and the bottles of wine were lifted up as though by themselves, the wine poured itself into glasses—and, lo and behold, they were emptied! The archer ate and drank his fill and said: “Listen, Shmat Razum! Do you want to be my servant? Life with me will be pleasant!” “Why not? I have long been tired of living here, and I see that you are a kind man.” “Well, remove everything, and come with me.” The archer went out of the cave, looked back, and saw nobody. “Shmat Razum! Are you here?” he called. “Yes. Do not be afraid, I will not desert you,” replied a voice. “Very well!” said the archer, and seated himself on the frog. The frog swelled up and jumped across the river of fire; the archer put her in a jar and set out on his journey homeward.
Russian Fairy Tales (Pantheon Fairy Tale and Folklore Library) Page 49