Folktales from Russia

The Stone Flower Baba Yaga The Frog Princess The Magic Ring The Snow Maiden   The Stone Flower A long time ago in one Urals village there lived a famous craftsman named Prokopyich. He made jewelry and other things from malachite and was renowned as the best gem carver in the Urals. The rulers ordered him to teach some boys his profession, but none of them was talented enough. At the same time an orphan named Danila lived in the village. He was weak and couldn't work at the factory. But he was full of dreams and liked to observe nature. Once he tried to help an old herdsman, but when he played his flute, the old shepherd felt asleep and several cattle were eaten by wolves. Danila and the herdsman were severely punished. A kind old woman took Danila into her house and healed him using many herbs and flowers. She taught him the lore of plants, and one day told him about the Stone Flower from Malachite Mountain. She told him it was the most beautiful flower in the world. But she also warned him, "Whoever finds that flower will never be happy." After Danila recovered, the manager of the factory sent him to Prokopyich to study gem carving. He was surprisingly gifted. Prokopyich was a widow without children, and he loved the boy as if he were his own son. Several years passed. Danila became a strong, handsome young man. One day the owner of the factory sent him a commission to make a vase from malachite, along with a sketch of what he wanted. Danila began the intricate task, but he was unsatisfied with the idea on the sketch. Every day he went to the woods looking for inspiration and observing many flowers and plants. He worked for a long time and at last completed a vase like the one in the sketch. When he showed it to the other craftsmen, they liked it and praised it. But Danila said, "This vase is made precisely according to the sketch, but there is no living beauty in it. When you look at the simplest flower, joy fills your heart because of its beauty. Where is there such beauty in the stone?"  One very old craftsman warned him, "Don't even think that way. Otherwise you could become a servant of the Mistress of Copper Mountain. Her workers live and work in the Mountain and nobody ever sees them. Once I was lucky enough to see their work. Magnificent! Our work can't compare with theirs, because they have seen the Stone Flower and understand the beauty of the stone." After this conversation Danila went to the woods more often looking for a block of stone for his own vase. Prokopyich was worried about him and urged him to marry the nice girl named Katya to whom Danila was engaged. But Danila said, "I want to wait! First I need to make my own vase and then we will think about marriage.". One day he was in the woods looking for stone and suddenly heard a whisper saying, "Danila-Craftsman, look for stone on Serpent Hill." He turned around and saw the dim outline of a woman, which vanished in a second. He thought, "Perhaps it was the Mistress of Copper Mountain!" So he went to Serpent Hill and found a huge block of malachite. He was very glad, took the stone home and started to carve the vase. But soon again he was disappointed with the result and said sadly, "Maybe I am just not able to understand the power and the beauty of the stone." So he and Katya announced the date of their wedding. The day before the wedding he went for a walk to Serpent Hill again, sat down and thought about the Stone Flower. "How I desire to see that Flower!" he mused. All a sudden the Mistress of Copper Mountain appeared before his eyes. Danila began to implore her: "There is no life for me without seeing that Flower!" She replied, "I could show it to you, but afterwards you will regret it. Those who have seen my Flower have left their family and come to live in my mountain. Think about Prokopyich and Katya who love you." "I know," shouted Danila, "but I must see it." "All right," she said. "Let's go then to my garden." So she took him and showed him the wonderful Stone Flower. In the evening Danila came to the village. His fiancee Katya had a party the day before the wedding. At first he had fun, danced, and sang songs, but then he became sadder and sadder. To Katya's questions he replied that he had a headache. After the party he returned home, broke his vase and ran away. The village was full of rumors after he disappeared, but no one knew where he had gone. Three years passed. Katya did not marry. After her parents died she came to live with old Prokopyich and helped him in his work. But soon Prokopyich died, too, and Katya lived on her own. She did not have any money, so she decided to try making some brooches. She went to Serpent Hill hoping to find good pieces of stone. But at the hill she remembered her beloved Danila and wept. Suddenly she saw a beautiful piece of malachite. Katya took it home and tried to carve several brooches. She worked hard and well and her carving beautifully set off the natural patterns in the stone. Katya was happy when she sold her works to a merchant in the village. She thought, "My brooches are the best in his store. I was lucky finding that malachite. Maybe Danila helped me?"  She ran again to Serpent Hill looking for another good stone. But she thought again of Danila and burst into tears, sobbing, "Where are you, my beloved friend? Why did you leave me?" When Katya looked around it seemed to her she stood in an unfamiliar woods, and the mountain opened before her eyes. "Here is the magic mountain," she thought. "Maybe I could see my Danila." When Katya looked down, she saw a man who looked just like Danila. The man raised his hands toward her. She wanted to jump down to him, but the vision disappeared. She told her relatives what she had seen but they did not believe her and decided that she must be ill. The next day Katya ran to the hill hoping desperately to see Danila. Her sister followed her. Katya came to the same place and found herself in the magic woods. She started to call out, "Danila, where are you? Answer me!" The echo answered: "He is not here! He is not here!" Then suddenly the Mistress of Copper Mountain appeared and demanded, "Why did you come to my garden? If you need the stones, take what you wish and go away."  Brave Katya replied, "I don't need your dead stones. Give me my Danila back. You don't have the right to take another's fiance." The Mistress laughed. "Do you have any idea whom you are speaking to?" Katya cried out, "I am not blind, I know who you are. I am not afraid of you! Not at all! And I know that Danila wants to come back to me." The Mistress said, "All right, let him speak then." At the same moment Katya saw Danila. The Mistress said, "You have to choose, Danila-Craftsman. If you go with her, you will forget everything you saw and learned in the mountain. If you want to stay here, you have to forget the rest of the world."  Danila sighed, "I am sorry. I can't forget the people I love. I think about Katya every minute of my life." The Mistress smiled and said, "All right, Danila. Go back home. And for your honesty and loyalty I will give you a present. You will not lose your knowledge that you have learned here. But do not tell people about the mountain. If somebody asks you where have you been, just say that you went away to improve your skill." Katya and Danila returned home, filled with joy. Katya's sister could not find her in the woods and returned home. When she came into the house she saw Danila and Katya. She cried out, "Danila, where have you been?" Danila just smiled. "I went to study my craft with a master who lives far away.  Katya and Danila lived happily together for many years. He became known far and wide as the greatest carver in the Ural Mountains.   Baba Yaga Once upon a time there was a man and woman who had an only daughter. When his wife died, the man took another. But the wicked stepmother took a dislike to the girl, beat her hard and wondered how to be rid of her forever. One day the father went off somewhere and the stepmother said to the girl, "Go to your aunt, to my sister, and ask her for a needle and thread to sew you a blouse." The aunt was really Baba Yaga, the bony witch. Now, the little girl was not stupid and she first went to her own aunt for advice. "Good morrow. Auntie," she said. "Mother has sent me to her sister for a needle and thread to sew me a blouse. What should I do?" The aunt told her what to do. "My dear niece," she said. "You will find a birch-tree there that will lash your face; you must tie it with a ribbon. You will find gates that will creak and bang; you must pour oil on the hinges. You will find dogs that will try to rip you apart; you must throw them fresh rolls. You will find a cat that will try to scratch your eyes out; you must give her some ham." The little girl went off, walked and walked and finally came to the witch's abode. There stood a hut, and inside sat Baba Yaga, the bony witch, spinning. "Good day. Auntie," said the little girl. "Good day, dearie," the witch replied. "Mother sent me for a needle and thread to sew me a blouse," said the girl. "Very well," Baba Yaga said. "Sit down and weave." The girl sat at the loom. then Baba Yaga went out and told her serving-maid, "Go and heat up the bath-house and give my niece a good wash; I want to eat her for breakfast." The serving-maid did as she was bid; and the poor little girl sat there half dead with fright, begging, "Oh, please, dear serving-maid, don't bum the wood, pour water on instead, and carry the water in a sieve." And she gave the maid a kerchief. Meanwhile Baba Yaga was waiting; she went to the window and asked, "Are you weaving, dear niece? Are you weaving, my dear?" "I'm weaving, Auntie," the girl replied, "I'm weaving, my dear." When Baba Yaga moved away from the window, the little girl gave some ham to the cat and asked her whether there was any escape. At once the cat replied, "Here is a comb and towel. Take them and run away. Baba Yaga will chase you; put your ear to the ground and, when you hear her coming, throw down the towel—and a wide, wide river will appear. And if she crosses the river and starts to catch you up, put your ear to the ground again and, when you hear her coming close, throw down your comb — and a dense forest will appear. She won't be able to get through that." The little girl took the towel and comb and ran. As she ran from the house, the dogs tried to tear her to pieces, but she tossed them the fresh rolls and they let her pass. The gates tried to bang shut, but she poured some oil on the hinges, and they let her through. The birch-tree tried to lash her face, but she tied it with a ribbon, and it let her pass. In the meantime, the cat sat down at the loom to weave—though, truth to tell, she tangled it all up instead. Now and then Baba Yaga would come to the window and call, "Are you weaving, dear niece? Are you weaving, my dear?" And the cat would answer in a low voice, "I'm weaving. Auntie. I'm weaving, my dear." The witch rushed into the hut and saw that the girl was gone. She gave the cat a good beating and scolded her for not scratching out the girl's eyes. But the cat answered her, "I've served you for years, yet you've never even given me a bone, but she gave me some ham." Baba Yaga then turned on the dogs, the gates, the birch-tree and the serving-maid, and set to thrashing and scolding them all. But the dogs said to her, "We've served you for years, yet you've never even thrown us a burnt crust, but she gave us fresh rolls." And the gates said, "We've served you for years, yet you've never even poured water on our hinges, but she oiled them for us." And the birch-tree said, "I've served you for years, yet you've never even tied me up with thread, but she tied me with a ribbon." And the serving-maid said, "I've served you for years, yet you've never even given me a rag, but she gave me a kerchief."   The Frog Princess Long, long ago, in days of yore, there lived a king who had three sons, all of them grown to manhood. One day the king called them to him and said, "My sons. let each of you make a bow for himself and shoot an arrow. The maiden who brings your arrow back will be your bride; and he whose arrow is not returned will stay unwed." The eldest son shot an arrow and a prince's daughter brought it back. The middle son loosed an arrow and a general's daughter brought it back. But young Prince Ivan's arrow fell into a marsh and was brought back by a frog holding it between her teeth. The first two brothers were joyful and happy, but Prince Ivan was downcast and cried: "How can I live with a frog? Marrying is for a lifetime, it isn't like wading a stream or crossing a field!" He wept and wept but there was nothing for it: he had to marry the frog. All three couples were wed together according to the custom—the frog being held aloft on a platter.  Some time passed. One day the king wished to see which bride was the best needle-woman. So he ordered them to make him a shirt. Poor Prince Ivan was again downcast and cried: "How can my frog sew? I'll be a laughing stock." The frog only jumped across the floor croaking. But no sooner was Prince Ivan asleep than she went outside, cast off her skin and turned into a beautiful maiden, calling. "Maids and matrons, sew me a shirt!" The maids and matrons straightway brought a finely-embroidered shirt: she took it, folded it and placed it alongside Prince Ivan.  There upon she turned back into a frog as if nothing had happened. In the morning Prince Ivan awoke and was overjoyed to find the shirt which he took forthwith to the king. The king gazed at it and said: "Now there's a shirt for you, fit to wear on holy days!" Then the middle brother brought a shirt, at which the king said, "This shirt is fit only for the bath-house!" And taking the eldest brother's shirt, he said, "And this one is fit only for a smoky peasant hut!" The king's sons went their separate ways, with the two eldest muttering among themselves, "We were surely wrong to mock at Prince Ivan's wife; she must be a cunning sorceress, not a frog."  Presently the king again issued a command: this time the daughters-in-law were each to bake a loaf of bread, and bring it to him to judge which bride was the best cook. The other two brides had made fun of the frog, but now they sent a chamber- maid to see how she would bake her loaf. The frog noticed the woman, so she kneaded some dough, rolled it out, made a hole in the stove and tipped the dough straight into the fire. The chambermaid ran to tell her mistresses, the royal brides, and they proceeded to do the same. But the crafty frog had tricked them; as soon as .the woman had gone, she retrieved the dough, cleaned and mended the stove as if nothing had happened, then went out on to the porch, cast off her skin and called, "Maids and matrons, bake me a loaf of bread such as my dear father used to eat on Sundays and holidays." In an instant the maids and matrons brought the bread. She took it, placed it beside Prince Ivan, and turned into a frog again. In the morning Prince Ivan awoke, took the loaf of bread and gave it to his father. His father was receiving the loaves brought by the elder brothers: their wives had dropped the dough into the fire just as the frog had done, so their bread was black and lumpy. First the king took the eldest son's loaf, inspected it and despatched it to the kitchen;  then he took the middle son's loaf and despatched it thither too. Then came Prince Ivan's turn: he presented his loaf to his father who looked at it and said, "Now this is bread fit to grace a holy day. It is not at all like the burnt offerings of my elder daughters-in-law!"  After that the king thought to hold a ball to see which of his sons' wives was the best dancer. AU the guests and daughters-in-law assembled; everyone was there except Prince Ivan, who thought: "How can I go to the ball with a frog?" And the poor prince began- to weep bitterly. "Do not cry, Prince Ivan," said the frog. "Go to the ball. I shall follow in an hour." Prince Ivan was somewhat cheered at the frog's words, and left for the ball. Then the frog cast off her skin and turned into a lovely maid dressed in finery. When she arrived at the ball, Prince Ivan was overjoyed, and the guests clapped their hands at the sight of such beauty. They began to eat and drink. But the frog-princess would eat and slip the bones into her sleeve, then drink and pour the dregs into her other sleeve. The elder brothers' wives saw this and followed suit, slipping bones into one sleeve and dregs into the other. When the time came for dancing, the king called upon his elder sons' wives but they insisted on the frog-princess dancing first. And she straightway took Prince Ivan's arm and came forward to dance. She danced and danced, whirling round and round, to the delight of all. When she shook her right sleeve, woods and lakes appeared; when she shook her left sleeve, all kinds of birds flew about. The guests were filled with wonder. When she finished dancing, everything disappeared. Then the wives of the two elder sons began to dance. They wished to do as the frog-princess had done, so they shook their right sleeves and bones flew out hitting folk about them; and when they shook their left sleeves, water splashed all over the onlookers. The king was most displeased and soon called an end to the dancing.  The ball was over. Prince Ivan rode off ahead of his wife, found the frogskin and burnt it. So when his wife returned and looked for the skin, it was nowhere to be seen. She lay down to sleep with Prince Ivan, but just before daybreak she said to him, "Oh, Prince Ivan, if only you had waited a little longer I would have been yours. Now God alone knows when we shall meet again. Farewell. If you wish to find me you must go beyond the Thrice-Nine Land to the Thrice-Ten Kingdom." And the frog-princess vanished.  A year went by, and Prince Ivan still pined for his wife. As a second year began, he made ready to leave, seeking first the blessing of his father and mother. He rode for a long way and eventually chanced upon a little hut facing the trees, with its back to him. "Little hut, little hut," he called. 'Turn your face to me, please, and your back to the trees." The little hut did as he said and Prince Ivan entered. There before him sat an old woman, who cried, "Fie, Foh! There was neither sight nor sound of Russian bones, yet now they come marching in of their own free will! Whither go you, Prince Ivan?" "First give me food and drink and put me to bed, old woman, then ask your questions." So the old woman gave food and drink and put him to bed. Then Prince Ivan said to her, "Grannie, I have set out to rescue Yelena the Fair." "Oh, my child," the old woman said, "you've waited too long! At first she spoke of you often, but now she no longer remembers you. I haven't seen her for a long time. Go now to my middle sister, she knows more than me."  In the morning Prince Ivan set out, came to another little hut, and cried, "Little hut, little hut, turn your face to me, please, and your back to the trees." The little hut did as he said and Prince Ivan entered. There before him sat an old woman, who cried, "Fie, Foh! There was neither sight nor sound of Russian bones, yet now they come marching in of their own free will! Whither go you. Prince Ivan?" "I seek Yelena the Fair, Grannie-," he replied. "Oh, Prince Ivan," the old woman said, "you've waited too long! She has begun to forget you and is to marry another. She is now living with my eldest sister; go there now, but beware: as you approach they will know it is you. Yelena will turn into a spindle, her dress will turn to gold. My sister will wind the gold thread around the spindle and put it into a box which she will lock. But you must find the key, open the box, break the spindle, toss the top over your shoulder and the bottom before you. Then she will appear."  Off went Prince Ivan, came to the old woman's hut, entered and saw her wind- ing gold thread around a spindle; she then locked it in a box and hid the key. But Prince Ivan quickly found the key, opened the box, took out the spindle, broke it as he had been told, tossed the top over his shoulder and the bottom before him. All of a sudden, there was Yelena the Fair standing in front of him. "Oh, Prince Ivan,'' she sighed, "how long you were in coming! I almost wed another." And she told him that the other bridegroom would soon arrive. But, taking a magic carpet from the old woman, Yelena the Fair sat upon it and they soared up and away like birds. The bridegroom set off quickly in pursuit. He was clever and guessed that they had fled. He was within ten feet of them when they flew on the carpet into Rus. Just in time! He could not follow them there, so he turned back. But Prince Ivan and Yelena the Fair flew home to the rejoicing of all; and lived happily ever after.   The Magic Ring In a certain realm, in a certain land, there once lived an old man and woman with their only son Martin. All his life the old man had been a hunter, catching animals and birds and feeding his family on his catch. With time the old man took sick and died, leaving Martin and his mother alone in the world; they grieved and sorrowed, but there was nothing for it: tears won't bring back the dead. A week passed by and they had eaten all the food in the larder; seeing there was nothing more to eat, the old woman realised she would have to spend some money. The old man had left them two hundred rubles; though she was loath to open the money- box, they had to eat somehow and keep the wolf from the door. So she counted off a hundred rubles and told her son, "Here, Martin, take these hundred notes and borrow the neighbour's horse so that you can ride to town and buy some food. That will see us through the winter and we will look for work come the spring."  Martin borrowed his neighbour's horse and cart and rode off to town; as he was passing butchers' stalls in the market he saw a noisy crowd gathered there. What had happened? The butchers had caught a hound, tied him to a post and were beating him with sticks, and the dog was cowering, whining and yapping with pain. Martin ran over to the butchers and asked, "Why are you beating the poor dog so mercilessly?" "That devil deserves all he gets," the butchers said. "He stole a whole side of beef." "Stop, brothers," Martin cried. "Don't beat him, sell him to me instead." "Buy him if you please, but it will cost you a hundred rubles." said one butcher in jest. Martin pulled out a hundred rubles, paid the butcher, untied the hound and took him along. The dog wagged his tail and licked his new master's hand; he knew the young fellow had saved his life.  When Martin got back home, his mother asked him at once, "What have you bought, my boy?" "My first piece of good fortune," Martin replied. "What are you blathering about? What good fortune?" "Here it is, Blackie," he said pointing at the dog. "Is that all?" "If I'd had any money left I might have bought more: but the whole hundred went on the dog." The old woman scolded him: "We've nothing to eat; I've scraped the last bits of flour to make a roll for today, but tomorrow there'll be nothing at all."  Next day his mother took out the last hundred rubles, gave it to her son and told him: "Go to town and buy some food. son. but don't fritter the money away." Martin arrived at the town, began to walk up and down the streets and take a look around, and saw a boy dragging a cat along on a string towards the river. "Stop." called Martin. "Where are you taking that cat?" "I'm going to drown him: he stole a pie from our table." "Don't drown him," Martin said. "Sell him to me instead." "Buy him if you please, but it will cost you a hundred rubles." Martin did not think twice: he pulled out the money and gave it to the boy; then he put the cat in his bag and turned for home. "What have you bought, my boy?" asked his mother. "Stripey the cat." "Is that all?" "If I'd had any money left, I might have bought more." "Oh. what a fool you are!" she cried. "Leave this house at once and go begging food at someone else's door."  Off went Martin to the next village in search of work. taking with him Blackie the dog and Stripey the cat. On the way he met a priest. "Where are you going, my son?" he asked. "To look for work," the lad replied. "Come and work for me; only I take on workmen without fixing a wage: whoever serves me well for three years gets what he deserves." Martin agreed and toiled away three summers and winters for the priest; when the time came for payment, his master summoned him. "Well. Martin," he said, "come and get your reward." He led him into the bam. pointed at two full sacks and said, 'Take whichever you want." Martin saw that there was silver in one sack and sand in the other, and thought: "There's more to this than meets the eye. Come what may, but I will take the sand and see what happens." So he said: "I will take the sack of fine sand. master." "Please yourself, my son. Take the sand if you prefer it to silver."  Martin heaved the sack of sand upon his back and went to look for work again. He walked and walked, until he found himself in a dark. dense forest. In the middle of the forest was a glade, and in the glade a fire burned brightly, and in the fire sat a maiden more fair than tongue can tell or tale can spell. The fair maiden called to him, "Martin, the widow's son. if you wish to win good fortune, rescue me: put out the flame with the sand for which you laboured three years." "Aha," thought Martin, "it would be better to help someone than drag this load around. Sand is not worth much anyway, there's plenty of it about." He put down his sack, untied it and began to pour out the sand; the fire went out at once, the fair maiden struck the earth with her foot, turned into a snake, leapt upon his chest and wound herself about his neck. Martin took fright. "Do not be afraid," said the snake. "Go to the Thrice-Ten King- dom beyond the Thrice-Nine Land; my father is king there. When you come to his palace he will offer you gold and silver and precious stones. But do not take any- thing. Just ask for the ring from his little finger. It is no ordinary ring: when you put it on one hand and then on the other twelve strapping youths will appear to do whatever you order, all in a single night."  Martin went on his way; by and by he reached the Thrice-Ten Kingdom and saw a huge rock. The snake jumped down from his neck, struck the earth and became a fair maiden once more. "Follow me," she said, leading the way under the rock. For a long time they walked along the underground passage until suddenly a light appeared; it got brighter and brighter, and they came out to a wide plain under a clear blue sky; and on the plain was a magnificent castle where the fair maiden's father lived—the king of mis underground realm.  As the travellers entered the white-stone castle they were greeted warmly by the king. "Welcome, my dear daughter. Where have you been all these years?" "Father. noble Sire, I would have perished had it not been for this man: he saved me from a cruel death and brought me here to my native land." "Thank you, young man," said the king, "your good deed deserves reward; take all the gold, silver and precious stones that your heart desires." But Martin, the widow's son, answered, "Your Maj- esty, I want neither gold, nor silver, nor precious stones; all I ask is the ring from the little finger of your royal hand. I am a single fellow: I shall look at the ring, and think of my future bride to drive away my loneliness." At once the king took off the ring and gave it to Martin. "Here, take it and good luck to you. But tell no one of the ring or you will find yourself in dire trouble."  Martin, the widow's son, thanked the king, took the ring and a small sum of money for the road, and set off the way he had come. By and by he returned to his native land, sought out his old mother, and they began to live happily without a care in the world. One day Martin thought to take a wife and sent his mother off as matchmaker. "Go to the king himself," he said, "and ask for his lovely daughter." "Oh, my son," the old woman replied, "don't bite off more than you can chew. If I go to the king, he will get angry and have us both put to death." "Do not worry, Mother," said her son, "since I am sending you, go forth boldly. And bring back the king's reply whatever it is; don't come home without it." The old woman set off sadly for the king's abode: she walked into the courtyard and made straight for the royal staircase, without as much as by your leave. But the guards seized her. "Halt. old hag! Where do you think you're going! Even generals don't dare come here without permission..." "Leave me alone!" cried the old woman. "I've come to do the king a favour; I want his daughter to marry my son, and you are trying to stop me!" She caused such a commotion that you'd have -thought the palace was on fire. Hearing the shouts, the king looked out of the window and ordered the woman to be brought to him. She marched straight into the royal chamber, crossed herself before the icons and curtseyed to the king. "What have you to say, old woman?" asked the king. "Well, you see, I have come to Your Majesty; now don't get cross: I have a buyer, you have the wares. The buyer is my son Martin, a very clever fellow; the wares are your daughter, the beautiful princess. Will you let her marry my Martin? They'd make a good pair." "Have you taken leave of your senses, woman?" cried the king. "Not at all, Your Majesty. Pray, give me your reply."  Straightaway the king summoned his ministers and they took counsel as to what the reply should be. And it was decided thus: let Martin build the richest of palaces within a single day and link it to the king's palace by a crystal bridge with gold and silver apple-trees growing on either side. And let him build a church with five domes: so there was a place where the wedding could be held and the marriage celebrated. If the old woman's son could do all that, he would be really clever and would win the princess's hand. But if he failed, he and the old woman would lose their heads for their impudence. Home went the old woman with the reply, weeping bitter tears as she trudged along. "Well, my son," she cried. "I told you not to bite off more than you can chew; but you would have your way. Now our poor heads are for the chop, tomorrow we shall die." "Who knows, mother, we might stay alive. Pray to God and go to bed: morning is wiser than evening."  On the stroke of midnight, Martin got up from his bed, went out into the yard, put the ring on his other hand—and right away twelve strapping youths appeared, all exactly alike. "What is it that you require, Martin, the widow's son?" they asked. "It is this: build me by first light on this very spot a .splendid palace, with a crystal bridge leading from my palace to the king's and with gold and silver apple-trees growing on either side, and birds of every kind singing in their branches: build me, too, a church with five domes; so there is a place where my wedding can be held, and my marriage celebrated." "All will be ready by the morrow," replied the twelve strapping youths. With that they set to busily, brought workmen and carpenters from all sides and got down to work. They worked with a will and soon everything was done. In the morning Martin woke up to find himself not in his simple cottage, but in splendid chambers. He stepped onto the high porch and saw that all was ready:  the palace, the church, the crystal bridge, and the trees with gold and silver apples. The king also walked onto his balcony, looked through his spy-glass and marvelled to see that all had been done as he had ordered. He summoned the fair princess and told her to get ready for the wedding. "Well," he said, "I never thought I would hand my daughter over to a peasant's son, but there's nothing for it now."  While the princess was dressing herself in her finery, Martin, the widow's son. came into the yard, put the magic ring on his other hand, and saw twelve strapping youths appear as if from out of the ground. "What is it that you require?" they asked. "It is this," Martin said, "dress me in a nobleman's caftan and get ready a golden coach with six fine horses." "Straightway, master." In the twinkling of an eye Martin was brought the caftan; he put it on and it fitted him perfectly. Then he looked round and saw standing at the portals a carriage harnessed to six splendid horses dappled silver and gold. He got into the carriage and drove to the church; the bells were already ringing for mass, and people were flocking by the score! Behind the groom came the bride with her maids and matrons and the king with his minis- ters. After mass Martin, the widow's son, took the fair princess by the hand and, as right and proper, they were wed. The king gave his daughter a rich dowry, bestowed high office upon his new son-in-law and held a wedding feast to which all the world was invited.  The young couple lived together one month, then two and three: all the while Martin had new palaces and gardens built by the day, if not the hour. But it pained the princess to think that she had been wed not to a prince, a royal heir. but to a simple peasant. So she began wondering how to get rid of him. She pretended to be as sweet and loving as any husband could desire. She saw to her husband's every need, served him in every way she could, trying all the time to wheedle his secret out of him. But Martin was as firm as a rock and would not betray it.  One day, however, after drinking with the king, he came home and lay down to rest; the princess ran to his side, kissing and caressing him, breathing sweet words into his ear; and so oily was her tongue that Martin finally told her about his wonderful ring. "Good," thought the princess, "now I'll finish you off." As soon as he fell asleep, she snatched the ring from his little finger, went into the courtyard and put it on her other hand. At once the twelve strapping youths appeared. "What is it that you require, fair princess?" they asked. "Listen, lads," she said, "make the palace, the church and the crystal bridge vanish by dawn; and bring back the humble cottage as before. Leave my husband as poor as he always was, and carry me off to the Thrice-Ten Kingdom beyond the Thrice-Nine Land, to the Mice's Realm. I am ashamed to live here." "Straightway, Your Highness," they said. In a flash she was swept up by the wind and borne off to the Thrice-Ten Kingdom, the Mice's Realm.  Next morning the king awoke and went out onto his balcony to look through his spy-glass—but there was no palace with a crystal bridge and no five-domed church. just a humble cottage. "What does this mean?" he thought. "Where has it all gone?" And without delay he sent his adjutant to find out what had happened. The adjutant galloped off, inspected everything, then returned to report to the king, "Your Majesty, where the grand palace once stood there is now the humble cottage as before:  and inside the cottage lives your son-in-law with his mother; but there is no sign of the fair princess and no one knows where she is." The king called a grand council to pronounce judgement on his son-in-law: they condemned him for sorcery and the wrong he had done to the fair princess. Martin was to be immured in a high stone pillar with neither food nor drink. Let him starve to death. Stonemasons came and put up a tall stone pillar in which Martin was immured, with one small window for light. And there he sat. poor lad, shut in without food or drink one day. then a second and a third, weeping bitterly.  Martin's old friend. Blackie the dog. found out what had happened and came running to the cottage. Stripey the cat lay purring on the stove. "You lazy scoundrel, Stripey," said the dog. "all you can do is lie and stretch on the stove in the warm. while our master is shut up in a stone prison far away. Have you forgotten how he gave his last hundred rubles to save your miserable skin? If it hadn't been for him the worms would have eaten you away long ago. Get up quickly! We must go and help him." Stripey hopped down from the stove and. together with the dog. ran off to search for their master. Coming at last to his stone prison, the cat scrambled up to the window. "Hey, master! Are you still alive?" "Only just." answered Martin. "I'm starving; it must be my fate to die of hunger." "Don't despair; we will bring you food and drink." said Stripey. jumping out of the little window and down to the ground. "Our master's starving to death, Blackie; what can we do to help him?" "Oh, Stripey. you're too stupid to think of anything! I know: let's go to town. and as soon as we meet a pieman with a tray of pies. I'll trip him up and make him drop the tray. Then grab some pies and take them to our master."  So they went to the high street and met a man carrying a tray on his head. The dog darted under his feet, making the man stumble and drop his tray. The pies went flying, and the poor man ran off in a panic, thinking a mad dog was after him. Stripey snatched up a pie and ran off to Martin. He gave him the pie and dashed back for another, then a third. In the same fashion they frightened away a man selling cabbage soup, and thus got many a bowlful for their master. Then Blackie and Stripey decided to set off for the Thrice-Ten Kingdom, the Mice's Realm, to bring back the wonderful ring; the road was long and it would take them some time. Before setting off they brought Martin a good store of rusks, rolls, pies and provi- sions to last a whole year. "Eat and drink, master, but make sure your supplies last out until we return." They bade him farewell and set off on their long journey.  By and by they came to a deep blue sea. "I think I can swim to the other side. what about you'^" said the dog. "I'm no good at swimming." Stripey said. "I'll drown in no time." "Then climb on my back." So Stripey climbed on the dog's back. dug his claws into Blackie's thick fur, and they swam off across the sea. When they reached the other side they came to the Thrice-Ten Kingdom, the Mice's Realm. There was not a single human being in that land; but there were more mice than you could count—wherever you looked they were scampering about in their thousands. "Now it's your turn, Stripey," said the dog. "You break their necks. while I gather up the bodies and put them in a pile."  Stripey was used to this sort of hunting; off he went to deal with the mice in his way; one pounce and the mouse was finished. The dog could hardly keep up with him and by the end of a week the pile was huge. A terrible grief lay over the entire realm. When the Mouse King found that his subjects were missing, that many had suffered a cruel fate, he crawled out of his hole and begged the dog and the cat: "I bow before you, mighty warriors. Take pity on my poor people, do not kill us all;  tell me, instead, what I can do for you. Whatever you say will be done." The dog told him this: "You have a palace in your realm, and within that palace dwells a fair princess; she stole our master's magic ring. Fetch us that ring, or you will die and your kingdom will perish—we will lay it waste!" "Wait," said the Mouse King, "I will summon my subjects and ask them."  Immediately he gathered all the mice, large and small, and asked if one of them would creep into the palace to the fair princess and steal her ring. One little mouse answered, "I often go to that palace. By day the princess wears the ring on her little finger, and by night when she goes to bed she puts it into her mouth." "Go and try to get it," said the Mouse King. "If you succeed I will reward you handsomely." The little mouse waited until nightfall, made his way into the palace and crept on tiptoe into the princess's bed-chamber. She was sleeping soundly. Climbing onto the bed, he poked his tail into the princess's nose and tickled her nostrils. She sneezed, and the ring flew out of her mouth and dropped onto the carpet. The little mouse hopped down from the bed, seized the ring in his teeth and took it to the Mouse King. The Mouse King handed the ring to the mighty warriors, Blackie and Stripey, and they in turn paid him their compliments. Then they held counsel between themselves: who should look after the ring? "Give it to me, I'll never lose it, not for anything," said the cat. "All right," said Blackie. "But see you guard it with your life." The cat took the ring in his mouth and they set off on their return journey.  When they arrived at the deep blue sea, Stripey climbed onto the dog's back, dug his claws into Blackie's thick fur as tightly as he could, and into the water they went, swimming across to the other side. They swam for an hour or two, then out of nowhere a black raven swooped down and started pecking at Stripey's head. The poor cat did not know how to protect himself from the enemy. If he used his claws he would slip into the water and end up at the bottom of the sea; if he used his teeth, he might lose the ring. What was he to do?' He endured it as long as he could, until his head was bloody from the raven's pecking. Then he lost his temper, opened his mouth to seize the raven and ... dropped the ring into the deep blue sea. The black raven flew up and disappeared into a dark forest. As soon as they reached land, Blackie demanded to see the ring. Stnpey hung his head in shame. "Forgive me, Blackie." he said. "I'm sorry. I dropped it into the sea." The dog let fly at him. "You stupid oaf! You're lucky I didn't find out earlier, or I'd have dropped you into the sea, you dolt. What are we going to tell our master? Crawl into the sea at once and find that ring, or I'll tear you to pieces!" "What good will that do?" growled the cat. "We must put our heads together: just as we caught mice before, we'll catch crabs now. Perhaps they will find our ring for us." The dog agreed. So they began to walk along the seashore catching crabs and piling them up. The pile grew and grew. A huge crab crawled out of the sea to take a walk; in a flash Stripey had him in his claws. "Don't kill me, mighty warriors, I am the Crab King. I shall do whatever you order." "We dropped a ring into the sea," said Stripey, "go and look for it if you desire our pardon; or we will put your whole kingdom to waste."  The Crab King called his subjects at once and told them about the ring. Then up spoke a tiny crab: "I know where it is. When the ring fell into the deep blue sea, a sturgeon seized it and swallowed it before my very eyes." All the crabs ran through the sea in search of the sturgeon; when they found it they began pinching and tweaking the poor fish ceaselessly. The fish twisted and turned this way and that. and finally leapt onto the shore. The Crab King again emerged from the water and addressed the cat and the dog: "Here is the sturgeon, mighty warriors. Have no mercy on it, for it has swallowed your ring." The dog pounced on the sturgeon and started eating it up from the tail. But the cunning cat guessed where the ring would be. He gnawed a hole in the sturgeon's belly, tore out its insides and there was the ring. Seizing it in his teeth he scampered off as fast as his legs would carry him, thinking, "I'll run to the master, give him the ring and say I found it all by myself; and the master will love me more than Blackie."  Meanwhile the dog was finishing his meal of fish and wondering where the cat had gone. He soon guessed what the cat was up to, that he was trying to curry favour with their master. "It's no good, Stripey, you rascal! I'll catch you up and tear you to pieces." And off ran Blackie after the cat. He caught Stripey up and threatened him with a terrible fate. Spying a birch-tree in a field, Stripey scampered up it and sat there right at the top. "Very well," said the dog, "you can't sit in a tree forever; you'll want to come down sometime. And I shan't budge until you do." For three days Stripey sat up the tree, and for three days Blackie stood guard, not letting him out of sight for a moment. They both got very hungry and agreed to make it up. then set off together to their master. When they reached the stone prison, Stripey sprang up to the little window and asked, "Are you still alive. Master?" "Hello, dear Stripey! I thought you would never return. I haven't had a bite to eat for three days." Thereupon the cat gave him the magic ring. Martin bided his time till dead of night, put the ring on his other hand and the twelve strapping youths appeared.  "What is it that you require?" "Set up my former palace, lads," said Martin, "and the crystal bridge and the five-domed church; and bring back my unfaithful wife; have it ready by morning."  No sooner said than done. The king awoke next morning, went onto his bal- cony, and looked through his spy-glass: where the cottage had stood there was now a lofty palace; from the palace stretched a crystal bridge, and on either side of the bridge grew trees with gold and silver apples. The king ordered his coach to be made ready and rode off to see whether it had all really come back or whether he was dreaming. Martin met him at the gates, took him by his fair hands and led him into his splendid palace. "Well, this is how it was, Sire, and all because of the princess", and he told the king the whole story. The king ordered the princess to be executed: the unfaithful wife was tied to the tail of a wild stallion which was set loose upon the open plain. The stallion flew like the wind, dashing her snow-white body against the gullies and steep ravines. But Martin still lives and prospers to this day.   The Snow Maiden Once upon a time there lived a woodcutter and his old wife. They were poor and had no children. The old man cut logs in the forest and carried them into town; in this way he eked out a living. As they grew older they became sadder and sadder at being childless.  "We are growing so old. Who will take care of us?" the wife would ask from time to time. "Do not worry, old woman. God will not abandon us. He will come to our aid in time," answered the old man. One day, in the dead of winter, he went into the forest to chop wood and his wife came along to help him. The cold was intense and they were nearly frozen. "We have no child," said the woodcutter to his wife. "Shall we make a little snow girl to amuse us?" They began to roll snowballs together, and in a short while they had made a "snegurochka," a snow maiden, so beautiful that no pen could describe her. The old man and the old woman gazed at her and grew even sadder. "If only the good Lord had sent us a little girl to share our old age!" said the old woman. They thought on this so strongly that suddenly a miracle happened. They looked at their snow maiden, and were amazed at what they saw. The eyes of the snow maiden twinkled; a diadem studded with precious stones sparkled like fire on her head; a cape of brocade covered her shoulders; embroidered boots appeared on her feet. The old couple looked at her and did not believe their eyes. Then the mist of breath parted the red lips of Snegurochka; she trembled, looked around, and took a step forward. The old couple stood there, stupefied; they thought they were dreaming. Snegurochka came toward them and said: "Good day, kind folk, do not be frightened! I will be a good daughter to you, the joy of your old age. I will honor you as father and mother." "My darling daughter, let it be as you desire," answered the old man. "Come home with us, our longed-for little girl!" They took her by her white hands and led her from the forest. As they went, the pine trees swayed goodbye, saying their farewell to Snegurochka, with their rustling wishing her safe journey, happy life. The old couple brought Snegurochka home to their wooden hut, their 'isba,' and she began her life with them, helping them to do the chores. She was always most respectful, she never contradicted them, and they could not praise her enough, nor tire of gazing at her, she was so kind and so beautiful. Snegurochka, nevertheless, worried her adopted parents. She was not at all talkative and her little face was always pale, so pale. She did not seem to have a drop of blood, yet her eyes shone like little stars. And her smile! When she smiled she lighted up the isba like a gift of rubles. They lived together thus for one month, two months; time passed. The old couple could not rejoice enough in their little daughter, gift of God. One day the old woman said to Snegurochka: "My darling daughter, why are you so shy? You see no friends, you always stay with us, old people; that must be tiresome for you. Why do you not go out and play with your friends, show yourself and see people? You should not spend all your time with us, aged folk." "I have no wish to go out, dear Mother," answered Snegurochka. "I am happy here." Carnival time arrived. The streets were alive with strollers, with singing from early morning until late at night. Snegurochka watched the merrymaking through the little frozen window panes. She watched ... and finally she could resist no longer; she gave in to the old woman, put on her little cape, and went into the street to join the throng. In the same village there lived a maiden called Kupava. She was a true beauty, with hair as black as a raven's wing, skin like blood and milk, and arching brows. One day a rich merchant came through town. His name was Mizgir, and he was young and tall. He saw Kupava and she pleased him. Kupava was not at all shy; she was saucy and never turned down an invitation to stroll. Mizgir stopped in the village, called to all the young girls, gave them nuts and spiced bread, and danced with Kupava. From that moment he never left town, and, it must be said, he soon became Kupava's lover. There was Kupava, the belle of the town, parading around in velvets and silks, serving sweet wines to the youths and the maidens and living the joyful life. The day Snegurochka first strolled in the street, she met Kupava, who introduced all her friends. From then on Snegurochka came out more often and looked at the yours. A young boy, a shepherd, pleased her. He was named Lel. Snegurochka pleased him too, and they became inseparable. Whenever the young girls came out to stroll and to sing, Lel would run to Snegurochka's isba, tap on the window and say: "Snegurochka, dearest, come out and join the dancing." Once she appeared, he never left her side. One day Mizgir came to the village as the maidens were dancing in the street. He joined in with Kupava and made them all laugh. He noticed Snegurochka and she pleased him; she was so pale and so pretty! From then on Kupava seemed too dark and too heavy. Soon he found her unpleasant. Quarrels and scenes broke out between them and Mizgir stopped seeing her. Kupava was desolate, but what could she do? One cannot please by force nor revive the past! She noticed that Mizgir often returned to the village and went to the house of Snegurochka's old parents. The rumor flew that Mizgir had asked for Snegurochka's hand in marriage. When Kupava learned this, her heart trembled. She ran to Snegurochka's isba, reproached her, insulted her, called her a viper, a traitor, made such a scene that they had to force her to leave. "I will go to the Tsar!" she cried. "I will not suffer this dishonor. There is no law that allows a man to compromise a maiden, then throw her aside like a useless rag!" So Kupava went to the Tsar to beg for his help against Snegurochka, who she insisted had stolen her lover. Tsar Berendei ruled this kingdon; he was a good and gracious Tsar who loved truth and watched over all his subjects. He listened to Kupava and ordered Snegurochka brought before him. The Tsar's envoys arrived at the village with a proclamation ordering Snegurochka to appear before their master. "Good subjects of the Tsar! Listen well and tell us where the maiden Snegurochka lives. The Tsar summons her! Let her make ready in haste! If she does not come of her will we will take her by force!" The old woodcutters were filled with fear. But the Tsar's word was law. They helped Snegurochka to make ready and decided to accompany her, to present her to the Tsar. Tsar Berendei lived in a splendid palace with walls of massive oak and wrought-iron doors; a large stairway led to great halls where Bukhara carpets covered the floors and guardsmen stood in scarlet kaftans with shining axes. All the vast courtyard was filled with people. Once inside the sumptuous palace, the old couple and Snegurochka stood amazed. The ceilings and arches were covered with paintings, the precious plate was lined up on shelves, along the walls ran benches covered with carpets and brocades, and on these benches were seated the boyars wearing tall hats of bear fur trimmed with gold. Musicians played intricate music on their tympanums. At the far end of the hall, Tsar Berendei himself sat erect on his gilded and sculptured throne. Around him stood bodyguards in kaftans white as snow, holding silver axes. Tsar Berendei's long white beard fell to his belt. His fur hat was the tallest; his kaftan of precious brocade was embroidered all over with jewels and with gold. Snegurochka was frightened; she did not dare to take a step nor to raise her eyes. Tsar Berendei said to her: "Come here, young maiden, come closer, gentle Snegurochka. Do not be afraid, answer my questions. Did you commit the sin of separating two lovers, after stealing the heart of Kupava's beloved? Did you flirt with him and do you intend to marry him? Make sure that you tell me the truth!" Snegurochka approached the Tsar, curtsied low, knelt before him, and spoke the truth; that she was not at fault, neither in body nor in soul; that it was true that the merchant Mizgir had asked for her in marriage, but that he did not please her and she had refused his hand. Tsar Benendei took Snegurochka's hands to help her to rise, looked into her eyes and said: "I see in your eyes, lovely maiden, that you speak the truth, that you are nowhere at fault. Go home now in peace and do not be upset!" And the Tsar let Snegurochka leave with her adoptive parents. When Kupava learned of the Tsar's decision she went wild with grief. She ripped her sarafan, tore her pearl necklace from her white neck, ran from her isba, and threw herself in the well. From that day on, Segurochka grew sadder and sadder. She no longer went out in the street to stroll, not even when Lel begged her to come. Meanwhile, spring had returned. The glorious sun rose higher and higher, the snow melted, the tender grass sprouted, the bushes turned green, the birds sang and made their nests. But the more the sun shone, the paler and sadder Snegurochka grew. One beautiful spring morning Lel came to Snegurochka's little window and pleaded with her to come out with him, just once, for just a moment. For a long while Snegurochka refused to listen, but finally her heart could no longer resist Lel's pleas, and she went with her beloved to the edge of the village. "Lel, oh my Lel, play your flute for me alone!" she asked. She stood before Lel, barely alive, her feet tingling, not a drop of blood in her pale face! Let took out his flute and began to play Snegurochka's favorite air. She listened to the song, and tears rolled down from her eyes. Then her feet melted beneath her; she fell onto the damp earth and suddenly vanished. Lel saw nothing but a light mist rising from where she had fallen. The vapor rose, rose, and disappeared slowly in the blue sky ..