Cossack Fairy Tales and Folk Tales. AnonymousЧитать онлайн книгу.
he had suffered, and it was the son’s turn to listen. Furthermore the father said, “What shall we do now, my son? I am poor and thou art poor: hast thou served these three years and earned nothing?”––“Grieve not, dear dad, all will come right in the end. Look! there are some young nobles hunting after a fox. I will turn myself into a greyhound and catch the fox, then the young noblemen will want to buy me of thee, and thou must sell me to them for three hundred roubles––only, mind thou sell me without a chain; then we shall have lots of money at home, and will live happily together!”
They went on and on, and there, on the borders of a forest, some hounds were chasing a fox. They chased it and chased it, but the fox kept on escaping, and the hounds could not run it down. Then the son changed himself into a greyhound, and ran down the fox and killed it. The noblemen thereupon came galloping out of the forest. “Is that thy greyhound?”––“It is.”––“ ’Tis a good dog; wilt sell it to us?”––“Bid for it!”––“What dost thou require?”––“Three hundred roubles without a chain.”––“What do we want with thy chain, we would give him a chain of gold. Say a hundred roubles!”––“Nay!”––“Then take thy money and give us the dog.” They counted down the money and 22 took the dog and set off hunting. They sent the dog after another fox. Away he went after it and chased it right into the forest, but then he turned into a youth again and rejoined his father.
They went on and on, and his father said to him, “What use is this money to us after all? It is barely enough to begin housekeeping with and repair our hut.”––“Grieve not, dear dad, we shall get more still. Over yonder are some young noblemen hunting quails with falcons. I will change myself into a falcon, and thou must sell me to them; only sell me for three hundred roubles, and without a hood.”
They went into the plain, and there were some young noblemen casting their falcon at a quail. The falcon pursued but always fell short of the quail, and the quail always eluded the falcon. The son then changed himself into a falcon and immediately struck down its prey. The young noblemen saw it and were astonished. “Is that thy falcon?”––“ ’Tis mine.”––“Sell it to us, then!”––“Bid for it!”––“What dost thou want for it?”––“If ye give three hundred roubles, ye may take it, but it must be without the hood.”––“As if we want thy hood! We’ll make for it a hood worthy of a Tsar.” So they higgled and haggled, but at last they gave him the three hundred roubles. Then the young nobles sent the falcon after another quail, and it flew and flew till it beat down its prey; but then he became a youth again, and went on with his father.
“How shall we manage to live with so little?” said the father.––“Wait a while, dad, and we shall have still more,” said the son. “When we pass through the fair I’ll change myself into a horse, and thou must sell 23 me. They will give thee a thousand roubles for me, only sell me without a halter.” So when they got to the next little town, where they were holding a fair, the son changed himself into a horse, a horse as supple as a serpent, and so fiery that it was dangerous to approach him. The father led the horse along by the halter; it pranced about and struck sparks from the ground with its hoofs. Then the horse-dealers came together and began to bargain for it. “A thousand roubles down,” said he, “and you may have it, but without the halter.”––“What do we want with thy halter? We will make for it a silver-gilt halter. Come, we’ll give thee five hundred!”––“No!” said he. Then up there came a gipsy, blind of one eye. “O man! what dost thou want for that horse?” said he.––“A thousand roubles without the halter.”––“Nay! but that is dear, little father! Wilt thou not take five hundred with the halter?”––“No, not a bit of it!”––“Take six hundred, then!” Then the gipsy began higgling and haggling, but the man would not give way. “Come, sell it,” said he, “with the halter.”––“No, thou gipsy, I have a liking for that halter.”––“But, my good man, when didst thou ever see them sell a horse without a halter? How then can one lead him off?”––“Nevertheless, the halter must remain mine.”––“Look now, my father, I’ll give thee five roubles extra, only I must have the halter.”––The old man fell a-thinking. “A halter of this kind is worth but three grivni[4] and the gipsy offers me five roubles for it; let him have it.” So they clinched the bargain with a good drink, and the old man went home with the money, and the gipsy walked off 24 with the horse. But it was not really a gipsy, but Oh, who had taken the shape of a gipsy.
“HOW MUCH DO YOU WANT FOR THAT HORSE?”
Then Oh rode off on the horse, and the horse carried him higher than the trees of the forest, but lower than the clouds of the sky. At last they sank down among the woods and came to Oh’s hut, and Oh went into his hut and left his horse outside on the steppe. “This son of a dog shall not escape from my hands so quickly a second time,” said he to his wife. At dawn Oh took the horse by the bridle and led it away to the river to water it. But no sooner did the horse get to the river and bend down its head to drink than it turned into a perch and began swimming away. Oh, without more ado, turned himself into a pike and pursued the perch. But just as the pike was almost up with it, the perch gave a sudden twist and stuck out its spiky fins and turned its tail toward the pike, so that the pike could not lay hold of it. So when the pike came up to it, it said, “Perch! perch! turn thy head toward me, I want to have a chat with thee!”––“I can hear thee very well as I am, dear cousin, if thou art inclined to chat,” said the perch. So off they set again, and again the pike overtook the perch. “Perch! perch! turn thy head round toward me, I want to have a chat with thee!” Then the perch stuck out its bristly fins again and said, “If thou dost wish to have a chat, dear cousin, I can hear thee just as well as I am.” So the pike kept on pursuing the perch, but it was of no use. At last the perch swam ashore, and there was a Tsarivna[5] whittling an ash twig. The perch changed itself into a gold ring set with garnets, and the Tsarivna saw it and 25 fished up the ring out of the water. Full of joy she took it home, and said to her father, “Look, dear papa! what a nice ring I have found!” The Tsar kissed her, but the Tsarivna did not know which finger it would suit best, it was so lovely.
About the same time they told the Tsar that a certain merchant had come to the palace. It was Oh, who had changed himself into a merchant. The Tsar went out to him and said, “What dost thou want, old man?”––“I was sailing on the sea in my ship,” said Oh, “and carrying to the Tsar of my own land a precious garnet ring, and this ring I dropped into the water. Has any of thy servants perchance found this precious ring?”––“No, but my daughter has,” said the Tsar. So they called the damsel, and Oh began to beg her to give it back to him, “for I may not live in this world if I bring not the ring,” said he. But it was of no avail, she would not give it up.
Then the Tsar himself spoke to her. “Nay, but, darling daughter, give it up, lest misfortune befall this man because of us; give it up, I say!” Then Oh begged and prayed her yet more, and said, “Take what thou wilt of me, only give me back the ring.”––“Nay, then,” said the Tsarivna, “it shall be neither mine nor thine,” and with that she tossed the ring upon the ground, and it turned into a heap of millet-seed and scattered all about the floor. Then Oh, without more ado, changed into a cock, and began pecking up all the seed. He pecked and pecked till he had pecked it all up. Yet there was one single little grain of millet which rolled right beneath the feet of the Tsarivna, and that he did not see. When he had done 26 pecking he got upon the window-sill, opened his wings, and flew right away.
But the one remaining grain of millet-seed turned into a most beauteous youth, a youth so beauteous that when the Tsarivna beheld him she fell in love with him on the spot, and begged the Tsar and Tsaritsa right piteously to let her have him as her husband. “With no other shall I ever be happy,” said she; “my happiness is in him alone!” For a long time the Tsar wrinkled his brows at the thought of giving his daughter to a simple youth; but at last he gave them his blessing, and they crowned them with bridal wreaths, and all the world was bidden to the wedding-feast. And I too was there, and drank beer