Part 8 (2/2)
How should such a thing betide me!
They were kids, and now they're stones.”
So he came to the brook, and stooped to drink, but the heavy stones weighed him down, so he fell over into the water and was drowned. And when the seven little kids saw it they came up running.
”The wolf is dead, the wolf is dead!” they cried, and taking hands, they danced with their mother all about the place.
THE TALE OF THE SNOW AND THE STEEPLE
I set off from Rome on a journey to Russia, in the midst of winter, from a just notion that frost and snow must of course mend the roads, which every traveler had described as uncommonly bad through the northern parts of Germany, Poland, Courland, and Livonia. I went on horseback as the most convenient manner of traveling. I was but lightly clothed, and of this I felt the inconvenience the more I advanced northeast. What must not a poor old man have suffered in that severe weather and climate, whom I saw on a bleak common in Poland lying on the road helpless, s.h.i.+vering, and hardly having the wherewithal to cover his nakedness? I pitied the poor soul: though I felt the severity of the air myself, I threw my mantle over him, and immediately I heard a voice from the heavens blessing me for that piece of charity, saying, ”You will be rewarded, my son, for this in time.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”I took one of my pistols, shot the bridle in two.”]
I went on: night and darkness overtook me. No village was to be seen. The country was covered with snow, and I was unacquainted with the road.
Tired, I alighted, and fastened my horse to something, like a pointed stump of a tree, which appeared above the snow; for the sake of safety, I placed my pistols under my arm, and laid down on the snow, where I slept so soundly that I did not open my eyes till full daylight. It is not easy to conceive my astonishment to find myself in the midst of a village, lying in a churchyard; nor was my horse to be seen, but I heard him soon after neigh somewhere above me. On looking upwards, I beheld him hanging by his bridle to the weather-c.o.c.k of the steeple. Matters were now very plain to me; the village had been covered with snow overnight: a sudden change of weather had taken place: I had sunk down to the churchyard whilst asleep, gently, and in the same proportion as the snow had melted away; and what in the dark I had taken to be a stump of a little tree appearing above the snow, to which I had tied my horse, proved to be the cross or weather-c.o.c.k of the steeple!
With long consideration, I took one of my pistols, shot the bridle in two, brought down the horse, and proceeded on my journey. [Here the baron seems to have forgotten his feelings: he should certainly have ordered his horse a feed of corn after fasting so long.]
KING LONGBEARD
A story about King Berendey; his son Prince Ivan; about the cunning of the immortal King Koshchey, and about the wisdom of his daughter, Princess Mary.
Once upon a time there lived King Berendey, called Longbeard, for his beard reached far below his knees. He lived very happily with his wife the queen, but G.o.d gave no children to them, and this grieved the king very much.
The king had to visit his kingdom. He bade farewell to his queen, and stayed away for a long time. At the end of the visit on a very warm afternoon, when he was approaching his capital, he decided to stop for a rest in the meadow. He felt very thirsty and wanted some cold water to drink, but there was no water around. What should he do? He was all dried up with thirst. So the king decided to ride all over the meadow, perhaps he would strike a spring. And sure enough, he soon found a well.
Hurriedly he jumped down from his horse, and looked into the well. It was full of water to the brim, and upon its surface there was floating a golden cup. The king reached his hand after the cup, but he could not grasp it.
The cup swam away from his reach. He grasped impatiently at the amber handle now with his right hand, now with his left; but the handle, quickly turning to the left or to the right, as if but mocking the king, could not be caught. What was the matter? The king waited until the cup stood up again straight in the water, grasped it at once from the right and the left, but in vain! Slipping out from his hands like a fish, the cup dived straight to the bottom, and again it was swimming on the surface as if nothing had happened.
”Now wait,” thought King Longbeard, ”I will drink without you,” and stretching himself upon the gra.s.s, he began to drink with eagerness the cold spring water, forgetting about his beard, which was drowned in the water.
When he had drunk enough, he wanted to raise his head, but he could not do it: somebody was holding the king's beard and did not want to let it go.
Leaning upon the fence of the well, he tried to get himself loose, shook himself, turned his head, but all was in vain; he could not free his beard.
”Let me go,” cried he. No answer. Only a terrible monster looked up to him from the bottom, two big eyes s.h.i.+ning like emeralds; the widely open mouth queerly smiling, two rows of s.h.i.+ning pearly teeth, and a red tongue sticking out between them. The monster was laughing at the king. With its paws it was firmly holding the king's beard.
At last a hoa.r.s.e voice said from under the water, ”It is no use trying, King. I shall not let you go. But if you want to be free, give me that which you possess, but which you do not know about.”
The king thought, ”What could that be that I have and do not know about? It seems to me that I know everything,” so he answered the monster, ”All right, I agree.”
”Very well,” the hoa.r.s.e voice was heard to answer once more, ”but look out, keep your word, that no harm may happen to you.” With the last word the claws disappeared, with the monster.
Having freed his beard, the king mounted his horse, and continued his journey. As he entered his capital, all the people came out to meet him, cannons were playing, and all the bells were ringing from the city towers.
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