Part 6

They landed, came ashore, and--look there! the rich merchant's wife is hastening to meet him, and along with her their young daughter, a lovely girl, prettier than you could think or even dream of.

The family met; they greeted one another and went to the palace. And along with them went their new workman. They sat around the oak table and ate and drank and were cheerful.

"One day does not count," the rich merchant said; "let us have a good time and leave work for to-morrow."

The young workman was a fine, brave fellow, handsome and stately, and the merchant's lovely daughter liked him well.

She left the room and made him a sign to follow her. Then she gave him a touchstone and a flint.

"Take it," she said; "when thou art in need, it will be useful."

The next day the very rich merchant with his hired workman went to the high golden mountain. The young fellow saw at once that there was no use trying to climb or even to crawl up.

"Well," said the merchant, "let us have a drink for courage."

And he gave the fellow some drowsy drink. The fellow drank and fell asleep.

The rich merchant took out a sharp knife, killed a wretched horse, cut it open, put the fellow inside, pushed in the shovel, and sewed the horse's skin together, and himself sat down in the bushes.

All at once crows came flying, black crows with iron beaks. They took hold of the carcass, lifted it up to the top of the high mountain, and began to pick at it.

The crows soon ate up the horse and were about to begin on the merchant's son, when he awoke, pushed away the crows, looked around and asked out loud:

"Where am I?"

The rich merchant below answered:

"On a golden mountain; take the shovel and dig for gold."

And the young man dug and dug, and all the gold he dug he threw down, and the rich merchant loaded it upon the carts.

"Enough!" finally shouted the master. "Thanks for thy help. Farewell!"

"And I--how shall I get down?"

"As thou pleasest; there have already perished nine and ninety of such fellows as thou. With thee the count will be rounded and thou wilt be the hundredth."

The proud, rich merchant was off.

"What shall I do?" thought the poor merchant's son. "Impossible to go down! But to stay here means death, a cruel death from hunger."

And our fellow stood upon the mountain, while above the black crows were circling, the black crows with iron beaks, as if feeling already the prey.

The fellow tried to think how it all happened, and he remembered the lovely girl and what she said to him in giving him the touchstone and the flint. He remembered how she said:

"Take it. When thou art in need it will prove useful."

"I fancy she had something in mind; let us try."

The poor merchant's son took out stone and flint, struck it once and lo! two brave fellows were standing before him.

"What is thy wish? What are thy commands?" said they.

"Take me from this mountain down to the seashore."

And at once the two took hold of him and carefully brought him down.

Our hero walks along the shore. See there! a vessel comes sailing near the island.

"Ahoy! good people! take me along!"

"No time to stop!" And they went sailing by. But the winds arose and the tempest was heavy.

"It seems as if this fellow over there is not an ordinary man; we had better go back and take him along," decided the sailors.

They turned the prow toward the island, landed, took the merchant's son along with them and brought him to his native town.

It was a long time, or perhaps only a short time after--who could tell?--that one day the merchant's son took again his shovel and went to the market place in search of work.

The same very rich merchant came along in his gilded carriage; and, as of old, all the fellows who saw him coming rushed away.

The merchant's son remained alone.

"Will you be my workman?"

"I will at two hundred rubles a day. If so, let us to work."

"A rather expensive fellow."

"If too expensive go to others; get a cheap man. There were plenty of people, but when thou didst appear--thou seest thyself--not one is left."

"Well, all right. Come to-morrow to the landing place."

They met at the landing place, boarded a ship and sailed toward the island.

The first day they spent rather gayly, and on the second, master and workman went to work.

When they reached the golden mountain the rich, proud merchant treated his hired man to a tumbler.

"Before all, have a drink."

"Wait, master! thou art the head; thou must drink the first. Let me treat thee this time."

The young man had already prepared some of the drowsy stuff and he quickly mixed it with the wine and presented it to the master.

The proud merchant drank and fell sound asleep.

Our merchant's son killed a miserable old horse, cut it open, pushed his master and the shovel inside, sewed it all up and hid himself in the bushes.

All at once black crows came flying,--black crows with iron beaks; they promptly lifted up the horse with the sleeping merchant inside, bore it to the top of the mountain, and began to pick the bones of their prey.

When the merchant awoke he looked here and looked there and looked everywhere.

"Where am I?"

"Upon the golden mountain. Now if thou art strong after thy rest, do not lose time; take the shovel and dig. Dig quickly and I'll teach thee how to come down."

The proud, rich merchant had to obey and dug and dug. Twelve big carts were loaded.

"Enough!" shouted the merchant's son. "Thank thee, and farewell!"

"And I?"

"And thou mayst do as thou wishest! There are already ninety and nine fellows perished before thee; with thyself there will be a hundred."

The merchant's son took along with him the twelve heavy carts with gold, arrived at the golden palace and married the lovely girl; the rich merchant's daughter became mistress of all her father's wealth, and the merchant's son with his family moved to a large town to live.

And the rich merchant, the proud, rich merchant?

He himself, like his many victims, became the prey of the black crows, black crows with iron beaks.

Well, sometimes it happens just so.

[Illustration]

FATHER FROST

[Illustration] In a far-away country, somewhere in Russia, there lived a stepmother who had a stepdaughter and also a daughter of her own. Her own daughter was dear to her, and always whatever she did the mother was the first to praise her, to pet her; but there was but little praise for the stepdaughter; although good and kind, she had no other reward than reproach. What on earth could have been done? The wind blows, but stops blowing at times; the wicked woman never knows how to stop her wickedness. One bright cold day the stepmother said to her husband:

"Now, old man, I want thee to take thy daughter away from my eyes, away from my ears. Thou shalt not take her to thy people into a warm izba. Thou shalt take her into the wide, wide fields to the crackling frost."

The old father grew sad, began even to weep, but nevertheless helped the young girl into the sleigh. He wished to cover her with a sheepskin in order to protect her from the cold; however, he did not do it. He was afraid; his wife was watching them out of the window. And so he went with his lovely daughter into the wide, wide fields; drove her nearly to the woods, left her there alone, and speedily drove away--he was a good man and did not care to see his daughter's death.

Alone, quite alone, remained the sweet girl. Broken-hearted and terror-stricken she repeated fervently all the prayers she knew.

Father Frost, the almighty sovereign at that place, clad in furs, with a long, long, white beard and a shining crown on his white head, approached nearer and nearer, looked at this beautiful guest of his and asked:

"Dost thou know me?--me, the red-nosed Frost?"

"Be welcome, Father Frost," answered gently the young girl. "I hope our heavenly Lord sent thee for my sinful soul."

"Art thou comfortable, sweet child?" again asked the Frost. He was exceedingly pleased with her looks and mild manners.

"Indeed I am," answered the girl, almost out of breath from cold.

And the Frost, cheerful and bright, kept crackling in the branches until the air became icy, but the good-natured girl kept repeating:

"I am very comfortable, dear Father Frost."

But the Frost, however, knew all about the weakness of human beings; he knew very well that few of them are really good and kind; but he knew no one of them even could struggle too long against the power of Frost, the king of winter. The kindness of the gentle girl charmed old Frost so much that he made the decision to treat her differently from others, and gave her a large heavy trunk filled with many beautiful, beautiful things. He gave her a rich "schouba" lined with precious furs; he gave her silk quilts--light like feathers and warm as a mother's lap. What a rich girl she became and how many magnificent garments she received! And besides all, old Frost gave her a blue "sarafan" ornamented with silver and pearls.

[Illustration: "_Old Frost gave the gentle girl many beautiful, beautiful things_"]

When the young girl put it on she became such a beautiful maiden that even the sun smiled at her.

The stepmother was in the kitchen busy baking pancakes for the meal which it is the custom to give to the priests and friends after the usual service for the dead.

"Now, old man," said the wife to the husband, "go down to the wide fields and bring the body of thy daughter; we will bury her."

The old man went off. And the little dog in the corner wagged his tail and said:

"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter is on her way home, beautiful and happy as never before, and the old woman's daughter is wicked as ever before."

"Keep still, stupid beast!" shouted the stepmother, and struck the little dog.

"Here, take this pancake, eat it and say, 'The old woman's daughter will be married soon and the old man's daughter shall be buried soon.'"

The dog ate the pancake and began anew:

"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter is coming home wealthy and happy as never before, and the old woman's daughter is somewhere around as homely and wicked as ever before."

The old woman was furious at the dog, but in spite of pancakes and whipping, the dog repeated the same words over and over again.

Somebody opened the gate, voices were heard laughing and talking outside. The old woman looked out and sat down in amazement. The stepdaughter was there like a princess, bright and happy in the most beautiful garments, and behind her the old father had hardly strength enough to carry the heavy, heavy trunk with the rich outfit.

"Old man!" called the stepmother, impatiently; "hitch our best horses to our best sleigh, and drive _my_ daughter to the very same place in the wide, wide fields."

The old man obeyed as usual and took his stepdaughter to the same place and left her alone.

Old Frost was there; he looked at his new guest.

"Art thou comfortable, fair maiden?" asked the red-nosed sovereign.

"Let me alone," harshly answered the girl; "canst thou not see that my feet and my hands are about stiff from the cold?"

The Frost kept crackling and asking questions for quite a while, but obtaining no polite answer became angry and froze the girl to death.

"Old man, go for my daughter; take the best horses; be careful; do not upset the sleigh; do not lose the trunk."

And the little dog in the corner said:

"Bow-wow! bow-wow! the old man's daughter will marry soon; the old woman's daughter shall be buried soon."

"Do not lie. Here is a cake; eat it and say, 'The old woman's daughter is clad in silver and gold.'"

The gate opened, the old woman ran out and kissed the stiff frozen lips of her daughter. She wept and wept, but there was no help, and she understood at last that through her own wickedness and envy her child had perished.

[Illustration: THE END]

[Illustration]

NOTES

The Tsarevna Frog

A _tsarstvo_ is the domain of a _tsar_ (czar), which is the title of an absolute monarch in Russia. The word _tsar_, derived from the Roman name and title, Caesar, may be translated emperor, king, or prince. A number of words are formed from it by adding different syllables: Tsarevitch, the tsar's son, prince; Tsarevna, the tsar's daughter, princess; Tsaritza, the tsar's wife, queen or empress.

_Boyar_ was the word formerly used to mean a Russian nobleman; so a _boyar-house_ is a lord's house; _boyarishnia_, a lord's daughter. The _terem_ was that part of the boyar-house in which the women's rooms were situated.

In Russia there is a fatherly relation existing between the ruler and his subjects which is shown in such phrases as "the tsar father," "their father sovereign," etc. The Russian language has many diminutives, or terms of endearment. For instance, the Tzar is often affectionately called "the little father" by his subjects.

"_Once said, quickly done_." This is the Russian idiom. Observe how much more lively it is than our own "No sooner said than done."

Seven Simeons

_The holy icons_ are pictures or mosaics of Christ, or the Virgin Mary, or of some saint or martyr of the Russian church. In every Russian house there is one or more, hung in a prominent place. Every one who enters the house at once bows and utters a prayer before the icons before he does anything else. This is an old Russian custom which is still kept up by peasants.

_Strong green wine_. This is the phrase still used by Russian story-tellers to describe the drink which it was an honor to receive from the royal hand. Its strength was magical in that it was not acquired by keeping, but was always the same.

_For a cloudy day_ is the Russian idiom very similar to our own.

_It is a peasant's trade_ is a Russian saying which means, "It doesn't amount to much."

_Moujik_, a peasant: his duties are those of a farm laborer, yet this phrase would not be a fair translation. This word, which is rendered "tiller of the soil," has no exact equivalent in English.

_Korolevitch_, from _korol_: king. The endings _evitch_ and _evna_ show descent, korolevitch meaning son of a king; korolevna meaning daughter of a king.

_Dutch trumpet_, i.e., an imported trumpet. Anything foreign is "Dutch" to the Russian peasant.

_Honey drink_, a drink made by fermenting honey and water. It is quite common in Russia, and is about the same as our mead.

Russian and other Slavonic tales often have queer endings, similar to the one here given by the story-teller at the end of the story, which is no part of the tale. To the Russian they give a poetic touch, a little sense of confusion and mystery which is certainly delightful.

The Language of the Birds

_Holy Russia_. To the Russian his country is sacred; everything outside is profane by comparison. The phrase suggests the _Holy Roman Empire_ of history, or the _Celestial Kingdom_ of the Chinese.

Ivanoushka the Simpleton

In the peasant's house there is often a large stove of brick or tile on which the family sleep in cold weather.

_A day in and an equal day out_, the Russian idiom. Observe how very like our own.

Woe Bogotir

_Kabak_, a drinking saloon.

The _ruble_ is the principal coin of Russia, as the dollar is in the United States. It is equal to 100 copecks, and at this time (1903) is worth only about 50 cents.

_Honey to drink_, i.e., fermented honey, or mead.

Baba Yaga

_Baba_, a peasant woman, or grandmother; granny. _Yaga_, witch. _Baba Yaga_, therefore, is the familiar "Grandmother Witch."

_Izba_, a hut. _Izboushka_, a tiny hut.

Father Frost

_Schouba_, a large fur-lined cloak.

_Sarafan_, the Russian national costume for women.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]