From the folklore of the Slavs
There was once a czar who had three sons, and in his courtyard was a golden apple tree, which bloomed and ripened in a single night, but someone stole the apples, and the czar could not discover who was the thief. Once he summoned his sons and said to them: “I cannot make out what becomes of the fruit of our apple tree.” To this his eldest son replied: “I will go to-night and watch it, and see who robs it.” When it was dusk the eldest son, as he had said, sallied forth and lay down under the apple tree. But when, towards midnight, the apples began to ripen, sleep overcame him, and he dozed off. And, when he awoke next morning, he looked about him, but where were the apples? Vanished! When he saw this, he went home and told his father exactly what had happened.
The second son said to his father: “Tonight I will go and watch the tree, in order to see who robs it.” Towards evening he sallied forth, as he had said, and lay down under the tree. But he, too, watched it, just like the first son. He, also, just about the time that the apples began to ripen, dozed off, but when he awoke next morning, wherever were the apples? Vanished!
Now came the turn of the third and youngest to go and watch the apple tree. Towards evening off he went, prepared his bed, lay down and went to sleep. About midnight, when the apples began to ripen, he awoke and looked at the apple tree; it was just beginning to ripen its fruit, and the whole court was aglow with their lustre. Just at this moment none peahens flew down, eight of them settled on the tree, and the ninth beside him on the bed; and, as soon as she had settled there, turned into a girl, whose beauty outshone the sun in heaven. He and she kissed and toyed till sunrise dawned; then he got up, she thanked him for the apples, and he begged of her to leave him at least one. She gave him two, one for himself and the other to take to his father; changed herself into a peahen, flew away and the others after her. Then the czar’s son got up and took the apple to his father, and his father did not know what to do with himself for joy, and praised him continually.
The following evening, the czar’s youngest son again went to watch the apple tree, and, as soon as he reached it, lay down, as before, and watched it successfully. On the morrow, he again brought his father an apple, and so several nights. He went regularly to watch the apple tree – and always watched it successfully. But, now, weren’t his brothers jealous of him for being able to watch the apple tree so successfully, while they couldn’t watch it at all. So they cast about to discover his secret for watching apple trees. And, lo and behold! They found an old hag, who was a witch, who promised to discover for them their brother’s receipt for watching apple trees. And, so, when the youngest brother prepared to go and watch the apple tree, that accursed witch crept off before him, and stowed herself under the bed. The czar’s son comes and lies down on the bed, without knowing that there is an old woman under it, and goes to sleep as before.
About midnight the czar’s son wakes with a start: there come the nine peahens, eight of them settled in the tree, and the ninth beside him in bed, transformed herself into a girl, and began to kiss and fondle. After the couple had toyed together in bed, a tress of the girl’s hair hung outside it, and that accursed witch softly crept forth and shore off that tress. The girl, as soon as she felt it, jumped up all at once, transformed herself into a peahen and flew away, with the other eight after her. On seeing this the czar’s son jumped out of bed, exclaimed: “What is this?” When, lo! There was the old woman under the bed. He seized her, pulled her from under the bed, and the next morning, ordered her to be tied to the tails of two horses and to be torn to pieces. The peahens came no more to the apple tree, and, in consequence, the czar’s son became much grieved and did nothing but weep and lament. At last he made up his mind to go in search of them through the world; so he went and told his father what he had decided upon doing, and his father consoled him and said: “Stay at home, dear son! I will look for another girl for you in my kingdom, anyone you like.” All to no purpose: he would not listen to his father, but made ready for the journey; took but one of the servants and sallied forth into the world to seek the peahens. After travelling a long time he came to a lake, in the middle of which was a costly palace, and in this palace dwelt an old princess: the old princess had an only daughter.
The czar’s son, having reached the old princess’s palace, asked her to tell him all she knew of the nine peahens, and the old lady told him what she knew, and that the nine peahens came daily to bathe in the lake. Having said so much, she tried to dissuade him in these words: “My dear son, give those nine peahens a wide birth! I have a very pretty daughter myself and a large property, all of which you shall inherit if you marry her.” But the czar’s son had scarcely heard where those nine peahens were than he would listen to nothing she said to him; but, on the morrow, bade his servant saddle the horses to go to the lake. Before they set off to the lake, the old princess called his servant to her and bribed him. Then she gave him a small satchel and said: “When the time draws near for the peahens to come to the lake, puff your master, on the sly, with this satchel, behind the nape of the neck; he will then go to sleep and not see them.” Would you believe it? That accursed servant took the satchel and did as the old princess told him.
When they reached the shore of the lake, it was just time for the peahens to return there, too, and he puffed his master behind the neck, and his master fell as fast asleep as a dead man. As soon as he had fallen asleep, the nine peahens arrived, either of them alighted on the lake, and the ninth on his horse, and tried to awaken him. “Wake, my birdie! Wake, my lambkin! Wake, my dovekin!” But he heard nothing, and slept on like a dead man. After having bathed, all the nine peahens flew away again. They flew off. He awoke and asked his servant: “What is it? Have they come?” And the servant replied: “They have come,” and told him how the eight peahens settled on the lake and the ninth on his horse, and how she had tried to awaken him. The czar’s son, on hearing this, poor fellow, from his servant, was half dead from rage and vexation.
On the next morning he again visits the lake, but his treacherous servant again finds an opportunity to puff him behind the nape of the neck, and he immediately drops to sleep like a dead man. As soon as he is asleep, lo! The nine peahens appear, eight settle on the lake and the ninth on his horse, and tries to awaken him. “Get up, my birdie! My lambkin! My little dove!” But he slept like a dead man and heard nothing. When the peahen could not awaken him, and the others wished to fly away, she, who had tried to awaken him, turned and said to the servant: “When your master awakes, tell him that yet tomorrow he will see us here, but then never more!” So saying, she soared aloft, and the others after her. Scarcely had they flown away when the czar’s son awoke, and enquired of the servant: “Have they come?” and he replied: “They have come: eight of them settled on the lake and the ninth on your horse, and tried to awaken you, but you slept too soundly. And she,as she prepared to go, told me to tell you that you would see them here yet once more, and then never more.” When the czar’s son heard this he was half dead, poor fellow, and did not know what to do for sorrow and vexation.
On the third day he again prepared to go to the lake, saddled his horse and away; and to prevent falling asleep he rode his horse continually. But his malicious servant, as he rode after him, found an opportunity again to puff him behind the nape of the neck, and he, all at once, rolled from his horse and fell asleep. As soon as he was asleep, lo! The nine peahens appeared; eight settled on the lake and the ninth on his horse, and tried to awaken him. Up! Up! My bird; awake, my lambkin; arouse, then, my little dove!” But he slept and slept like a dead man, and heard nothing. Then, when the others wished to fly away, she, who had alighted on his horse, turned to the servant and said: “When your master awakes, tell him to roll down the lower coping-stone upon the upper, and then he will find me.” Then she soared away, and the others from the lake after her. Scarcely had they flown away when he awoke, and enquired of his servant: “Have they come?” and the servant replied: “They have come; and she who settled on your horse, told me to tell you, when you awoke, that if you rolled the upper coping-stone on to the lower, you would find her.” When the czar’s son heard this, he drew out his sword and cut of his servant’s head. Having thus done his business for him, he sallied forth alone on his pilgrimage.
After journeying for a long time, he came to a forest, and, at dusk, to a hermit’s cell, where he passed the night. At supper the czar’s son enquired of the hermit: “Reverend sire! Have you ever heard of nine golden peahens?” The hermit replied: “Oh! My little son, you are in luck to have come to me to enquire about them. They are hard by here, for from here to there is not more than a six hours ride.”
On the morrow, when the czar’s son prepared to continue his pursuit, the hermit came out to show him the way, and said to him: “Go straight forward and you will find a large gateway. When you have passed through the gateway, turn to the right and you will come straight to their city, and in that city are their places.” So he sallied forth, following the directions of the hermit, and rode until he reached the gateway; then he turned to the right and there beheld the city of the peahens. And when he saw it he was filled with joy. At the gate a watchman stopped him and enquired who he was and where he came from. The czar’s son gave him full particulars. After this, the watchman went off to the palace and announced him to the princess. When she heard of the prince’s arrival she was beside herself with delight, and was like a girl before him; took him by the hand and led him upstairs. And now they had a good time of it together for some days, and were then solemnly married.
Well, some time after their wedding, the princess prepared to take a junket, and the czar’s son remained quietly at home. Before setting off she drew out and gave him the keys of twelve cellars, and said to him: “Open all the cellars, but don’t meddle with the twelfth.” So saying, she departed. The czar’s son, when left to himself in the palace, thought to himself: “What may this be, that I am to open all the cellars except the twelfth? There must be something uncommonly queer in it, but the Lord God of Hosts.”
Then he began to open one after the other. Now he comes to the twelfth, and at first did not wish to open it; but, as he had no patience, be began to dint it and to say: “Whatever can there be in this cellar for her to tell me not to open it?” At last he opened it, too, and there in the middle stood a cask girdled with three iron hoops, and from it he heard a voice, which said: “Prythee, brother, I am dying of thirst; give me a cup of water.” When the czar’s son heard the voice, he took a cup of water and poured it down the bunghole, and scarcely had he finished pouring it, when one of the iron hoops flew off. The voice again cried: “Prythee, brother, give me yet another cup of water; I am so thirsty.” He took a cup of water, poured it down the bunghole, and lo1 a second hoop flew off. The voice cried: “I am so thirsty; give me yet a cup of water, brother!” The czar’s son took yet another cup of water, and poured it down the bunghole. And, as soon as he had poured it all down, the third hoop flew off, the cask fell to pieces, and from it crawled a serpent, found the princess on her journey, and dragged her away with him. Then the servant and the servant girls come and tell their master that the snake has kidnapped their mistress. Finally he prepares to look for her over the world.
After travelling in this way for some time, he reached a swamp, and on this swamp he sees a little fish, which tries to jump back into the water and cannot. The little fish, when it sees the prince, entreats him: “Prythee, brother, be so good and throw me into the water. You will need me some day; only take a scale from me, and when you want me, rub it between your fingers.” When he heard this, he takes a scale from the fish, throws it into the water, puts the scale in his wallet, and continues his journey.
After travelling yet some way, he perceives a fox which has been caught in a trap. When the fox saw him it exclaims: “Prythee, brother, let me out of this trap; you will need my aid some day; just take a few of my hairs and, when you want me, rub them between your fingers.” He took a few hairs, let the fox out of the trap, and continued his journey.
And so he trudged on until at last, in his journeying, he came to a forest, and there perceived a crow, which, like the fox previously, had also got into a trap. When the crow espied him, it exclaimed: “Prythee, brother mine; oh! Wayfarer! Let me out of this trap; you will need my help some day. So just pluck a feather or two from me, and when you want me rub them between your fingers.” The czar’s son took a few feathers from the crow and then let it out of the trap. After this, he continued his journey.
Having thus journeyed all ways in pursuit of his princess, he at last met a man and enquired: “Prythee, brother, could you kingly tell me where is the palace of the czar of the serpents?” The man shows the way and tells him both when the serpent is at home and, also, when he receives visitors. The czar’s son thanks him and says: “Addio!” Then he continues his pilgrimage, and little by little approaches the palace of the serpent czar. When he get there he sees his beloved, and when she recognizes him and he her, they are both much delighted. And, now, they consult together how they are to escape. Finally they decide to saddle their horses and ride off. So they saddled them, mounted and hie, away! As soon as they had skedaddled, the serpent came home, looked about – no princess!
“Tell me, now,” said the serpent to his horse. “What shall I do? Shall I eat and drink or go in pursuit at once?” The horse said: “Don’t fast yourself, eat and drink!” Supper over, the serpent mounted his steed and hie! Away after them. And, after an hour, he caught them up, took back the princess, and said to the czar’s son: “This time I leave you safe and sound, but only because you gave me water to drink in the cellars; don’t come another time, though, as you value your life.” The czar’s son, poor fellow, remained there thunder-struck, and then tried to continue his journey; but when he could not, so sick at heart he felt, he returned once more to the palace of the snake. Then he sees the princess all in tears; and, when they had exchanged glances, they met and took counsel how they might yet make good their escape. Then the czar’s son said to the princess: “When the snake comes home, ask him where he buys his horses from? Then tell me, and I will procure one similar, in order to make good our escape.” So saying, he quitted the palace, that the snake might not catch him when it came home.
As soon as it did come home, the princess began to pet and wheedle it, and to say: “But what a fleet steed is thine! Oh! Do tell me whom you bought it off.” And he replied: “Where I buy, can no one else buy. In a forest dwells an old grandmother, who has twelve horses stalled in such a way that no one can tell which of them is the best. One of them is in a corner, and looks a half-starved nag, but it is the best and own brother to mine. It can soar heavenwards. But whoever wishes to get it from the old woman must serve her. This old grandmother has a mare and foal, and who can guard the mare three days is permitted by the old woman to choose a horse. Whoever tried to guard the mare three days and does not succeed pays the forfeit with his life.” Next morning the snake went away and the czar’s son came, and the princess told him what the snake had said to her.
So off goes the czar’s son, reaches the forest, and finds there also the old dame herself. As soon as he had entered her house he said, “Good day, good dame!” And the old dame replied, “The Lord be with thee, my little son,” adding, “What has brought thee hither, pray?” He replied, “I want to serve my time with you, good dame.” The old dame replied, “Very well, my little son. I have a mare and foal; if for three days you guard it well, I will give you one of these twelve horses, and you may choose the one you like best; but if you fail to guard it, I shall take your head.” The she led him out into the courtyard; all around the courtyard was a palisade, and on every paling a human head was fixed: only one remained empty, and it exclaimed continually, “Give me a head, granny!” When the old dame had shown him everything, she said, “Look! Those are the heads of all who tried to guard the mare and failed.” But the czar’s son was not to be frightened in this way. Towards evening he mounted the mare and galloped off over hill and dale, and the foal after this; hie, away! And so things went on till midnight. About midnight – would you believe it? – a drowsiness crept upon him and he fell asleep. When he awoke at sunrise, lo and behold! He was breaking in a log of wood instead of a mare, and held the halter in his hand. Seeing which, the poor fellow shook with terror, and prepared to go in pursuit of the mare. And, in his pursuit of her, he came to a piece of water, bethought him of the little fish, opened his wallet, took out the scale, rubbed it between his fingers, and the little fish skipped out of the water and lay there before him. “What is it, chosen brother mine?” said the little fish. And he replied, “The old beldame’s mare has escaped me and I do not know where it is.” The little fish replied, “Lo! It is among out people. It has transformer itself into a fish and the foal into a minnow; but flick the water with the halter and exclaim, ‘Shu! Shu! Old granny’s mare!’ ” He lashed the water with the halter, exclaiming as he did so, “Shu! Shu!” and lo! All at once the mare resumed her previous shape and leapt out on to the water’s edge before him. Then he threw the halter over her head, mounted her, and gallop! Gallop! away back to grandmother’s. When he brought back the mare, the old beldame gave him dinner and then conducted the mare to the stable, chided it and said, “Ah! Among the fish, you good-for-nothing, you!” And the mare replied, “Certainly, I was having a chat with them down below; in fact they are friends of mine, and invited me.” And the old beldame replied, “And the next time you will be among the foxes, I suppose.”
On the second day, he again mounted the mare, and hie, away! Over hill and dale, and the foal at full speed after him. So until midnight. When it was about midnight a sleep crept over him, and he dozed off on the mare’s back. When he awoke at sunrise, lo and behold! He was breaking in a log of wood instead of a mare, and held the halter in his hand. While he looked for her it all at once occurred to him what the old woman said to the mare when she led it to the stable, so he took out of the wallet the fox’s hair and rubbed it between his fingers, and the fox in a jiffy stood there before him. “What is it, adopted brother?” And he replied, “The old grandmother’s mare has escaped me.” The fox replied, “It is stopping with us. It has turned into a fox, and the foal into a fox-cub. Ut do you just strike the earth with the halter and cry, ‘Shu! Shu! Old granny’s mare!’ ” He struck the ground and called out; and, at a moment, in a bound, the mare was before him. Then he rubbed her down, put on the halter, mounted her and rode her home again. As soon as he had brought her home, the old beldame gave him dinner, and led the mare to the stable, saying, “Among the foxes, indeed, you ne’er-do-well!” And the mare replied, “Yes, I was having a chat with them, for they are my friends and invited me.” And the old beldame said, “Next, I suppose, among the crows.”
On the third day the czar’s son mounted the mare and hie, away! Over hill and over dale, and the foal at full speed after her. So until midnight. When it was about midnight, he dozed off upon the mare’s back and fell asleep, and never woke till sunrise, and found himself breaking in a log of wood and holding the halter in his hand. When he saw that, he jumped up and tried to follow the mare, and as he did so it occurred to him what the old grandmother had said to the mare when she scolded it. So he opened his fingers, and the crow was there before him. “What is it, adopted brother?” The czar’s son replied to her, “The old grandmother’s mare has escaped me, and I know not where she may be.” The crow replied, “She is with us; she has turned into a crow, and the foal into a young crow. But flourish the halter in the air, and say, ‘Shu! Shu! Old granny’s mare!’ ” He flourished the halter in the air, exclaiming, “She! She! Old granny’s mare!” And the mare turned itself from a crow into a mare, just as it was before, and came before him. So he put the halter on, and mounted and galloped her back to old granny’s, and the foal after him. Old granny gave him dinner and caught the mare, led it into the stable, and said to it, “So you have been among the crows, you ne’er-do-well?” And the mare said, “Yes, I had a chat with the crows; they are my friends, and invited me.” As soon as old granny came out of the stable, the czar’s son said, “Hi! Old granny; I have served you honourably, now I expect you to give me what you promised. “Old granny replied, “My little son, whatever is covenanted for must be given. Lo! There are the twelve horses; choose which of them you like best.” The czar’s son replied, “Why should I pick and choose? Give me the one in the corner, there; it is good enough for me.” Old granny now tries to dissuade him. “Why do you want that sorrow nag, when there are so many good horses?” He simply repeated, “Give me the one I choose, as we covenanted.” Old granny twists and turns, but finally has to give him the one he chose. He mounted it with, “A good day to you, granny!” “Good luck to you, my boy.” When he had ridden it into a grove, he began to currycomb it, and it shone like gold. Afterwards when he mounted it and began to gallop, it soared higher and higher, like a bird, so that in a precious short time they were back at the snake’s palace.
As soon as the czar’s son entered the palace, he recommended the princess to get ready and ride off. And so she got ready as quickly as possible, mounted pillion behind him, and off they rode. Scarcely had they quitted the palace and ridden off, when the snake came home and looked about. No princess! So he said to his horse, “Shall I eat and drink, or shall I go in pursuit of them?” The horse replied, “Eat or not eat, drink or not drink, pursue or don’s pursue – you will never catch them up.” As soon as the snake heard that, he mounted his horse and rode in pursuit of the fugitives. The czar’s son and the princess, when they were aware that he was pursuing them, trembled with terror and urged the horse to gallop faster, but the horse replied, “Have no fear, there is no need to hurry.”
The snake gallops and gallops, and almost catches them up; and his horse under him shouts to the one under the czar’s son and the princess: “Hurrah! Brother, but wait, or I shall burst before I catch you up.” And the other replies, “Who’s to blame, you dolt, if you carry that scarecrow on the back of you/ Kick up your heels, fling him t the ground, and follow me!” When the snake’s horse hears this, it tosses up its head, flings out with its hind legs, and flop goes the snake on to the stones. The snake is dashed to pieces, and his horse follows the czar’s son and the princess. The princess caught and mounted him, and so they rode back safe and sound to the princess’s kingdom and ruled there happily until they died.
Source:
Russian and Bulgarian Folk-lore Stories, WW Strickland, 1907
Kotharian Lightning 