The Baldwin Library COSSACK FAIRY TALES AND. FOLK-TALES. FATRY TALES AND o & ooggatt \- , sy / FOLK-TALES. SELECTED, EDITED, AND TRANSLATED BY R. NISBET BAIN. ILLUSTRATED BY E. W. MITCHELL. LONDON : LAWRENCE AND BULLEN, 16 HENRIETTA 8T., COVENT GARDEN, W.C. 1894. [All rights reserved.] Ricwarp Ciay & Sons, Lrwirep, Lonpox & Bunuay. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION ... OH THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE THE STORY OF THE WIND VOICES AT THE WINDOW STORY OF LITTLE TSAR NOVISHNY, THE AND THE FAITHFUL BEASTS VAMPIRE AND ST. MICHAEL STORY OF TREMSIN, THE BIRD ZHAR, AND LOVELY MAID OF THE SEA SERPENT-WIFE eer are STORY OF UNLUCKY DANIEL SPARROW AND THE BUSH OLD DOG... FOX AND THE CAT STRAW OX GOLDEN SLIPPER ... ogo IRON WOLF THREE BROTHERS FALSE SISTER, NASTASIA, THE PAGE ix 18 40 79 93 103 109 122 127 130 134 14] 158 161 viil CONTENTS. THE TSAR AND THE ANGEL THE STORY OF IVAN AND THE DAUGHTER OF THE SUN THE CAT, THE COCK, AND THE FOX ... THE SERPENT-TSAREVICH AND HIS TWO WIVES THE ORIGIN OF THE MOLE THE TWO PRINCES THE UNGRATEFUL CHILDREN AND THE OLD FATHER WHO WENT TO SCHOOL AGAIN... pad Sete) IVAN THE FOOL AND ST. PETER’S FIFE ea near THE MAGIC EGG a THE STORY OF THE FORTY-FIRST BROTHER THE STORY OF THE UNLUCKY DAYS ... eae THE WONDROUS STORY OF IVAN GOLIK AND THE SERPENTS b po WM bw wo ao co oF WW WY TO WW WwW Ww bo INTRODUCTION. THe favourable reception given to my volume of Russian Fairy Tales has encouraged me to follow it up with a sister volume of stories selected from another Slavonic dialect extraordinarily rich in folk- tales—I mean Ruthenian, the language of the Cossacks. Ruthenian is a language intermediate between Russian and Polish, but quite independent of both. Its territory embraces, roughly speaking, that vast plain which hes between the Carpathians, the water- shed of the Dnieper, and the Sea of Azov, with Lemberg and Kiev for its chief intellectual centres : though rigorously repressed by the Russian Gov- ernment, it is still spoken by more than twenty millions of people. It possesses a noble literature, numerous folk-songs, not inferior even to those of Servia, and, what chiefly concerns us now, a copious collection of justly admired folk-tales, many of them of great antiquity, which are regarded, both in Russia and Poland, as quite unique of their kind. Mr. x INTRODUCTION. Ralston, I fancy, was the first to call the attention of the West to these curious stories, though the want at that time of a good Ruthenian dictionary (a want since supplied by the excellent lexicon of Zhelekhovsky and Nidilsky) prevented him from utilizing them. Another Slavonic scholar, Mr. Morfill, has also fre- quently alluded to them (most recently in his interesting history of Poland) in terms of enthusiastic but by no means extravagant praise. The three chief collections of Ruthenian Folk-Lore are those of Kulish, Rudchenko, and Dragomanov, which represent, at least approximately, the three dialects into which Ruthenian is generally divided. It is from these three collections that the present selection has been made. Kulish, who has the merit of priority, was little more than a pioneer, his contribution merely consisting of some dozen hazki (mirchen) and kazochiki (miirchenlein), in- corporated in the second volume of his: Zapishi o yuzhnoi Rusi (Descriptions of South Russia), St. Petersburg, 1856-7. Twelve years later Rudchenko published at Kiev what is still, on the. whole, the best collection of Ruthenian Folk-Tales, under the title of Narodnuiya Yuzhnorusskiya Skazki (Popular South Russian Mirchen). Like Linnrét among the Finns, Rudchenko took down the greater part of these tales direct from the lips of the people. Ina INTRODUCTION. xi second volume, published in the following year, he added other stories gleaned from various minor MS. collections of great rarity. In 1876 the Imperial Russian Geographical Society published at Kiev, under the title of Malorusskiya Narodnuiya Pre- donyia t Razkazw (Little-Russian Popular Traditions and Tales), an edition of as many MS. collections of Ruthenian Folk-Lore (including poems, proverbs, riddles, and rites) as it could lay its hands upon. This collection, though far less rich in variants than Rudechenko’s, contained many original tales which had escaped him, and was ably edited by Michael Dragomanov, by whose name indeed it is generally known. - The present attempt to popularize these Cossack stories is, I believe, the first translation ever made from Ruthenian into English. The selection, though natur- ally restricted, is fairly representative; every variety of folk-tale has a place in it, and it should never be forgotten that the Ruthenian Kazka (miirchen), owing to favourable circumstances, has managed to preserve far more of the fresh spontaneity and naive simplicity of the primitive folk-tale than her more sophisticated sister, the Russian Skazka. It is maintained, more- over, by Slavonic scholars that there are peculiar and original elements in these stories not to be found in the folk-lore of other European peoples; such data, xl INTRODUCTION. for instance, as the magic handkerchiefs (generally beneficial, but sometimes, as in the story of Ivan Golik, terribly baleful) ; the demon-expelling, hemp-and-tar whips, and the magic cattle-teeming egg, so mis- chievous a possession to the unwary. It may be so, but, after all that Mr. Andrew Lang has taught us on the subject, it would be rash for any mere philolo- gist to assert positively that there can be anything really new in folk-lore under the sun. On the other hand, the comparative isolation and primitiveness of the Cossacks, and their remoteness from the great theatres of historical events, would seem to be favourable conditions both for the safe preservation of old myths and the easy development of new ones. It is for professional students of folk-lore to study the original documents for themselves. R. Nispet Bary. British Musewm, August, 1894. COSSACK FAIRY TALES. OH. HE olden times were not like the times we live in. In the olden times all manner of Evil Powers! walked abroad. The world itself was not then as it is now: now there are no such Evil Powers amongst us. I'll tell you a kazka? of Oh, the Tsar of the Forest, that you may know what manner of being he was. Once upon a time, long long ago, beyond the times that we can call to mind, ere yet our great-grand- fathers or their grandfathers had been born into, the world, there lived a poor man and his wife, and they had one only son, who was not as an only son ought * Div. This ancient, untranslatable word (comp. Latin Deus) is probably of Lithuanian origin, and means any maletic power. ? A folk-tale. Russ., Skazka. Ger., Mirchen, B 2 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. to be to his old father and mother. So idle and lazy was that only son that Heaven help him! He would do nothing, he would not even fetch water from the well, but lay on the stove all day long and rolled among the warm cinders. Although he was now twenty years old, he would sit on the stove with- out any trousers on, and nothing would make him come down. If they gave him anything to eat, he ate it; and if they didn’t give him anything to eat, he did without. His father and mother fretted sorely because of him, and said: “ What are we to do with thee, O son? for thou art good for nothing. Other people’s children are a stay and a support to their parents, but thou art but a fool and dost consume our bread for nought.” But it was of no use at all. He would do nothing but sit on the stove and play with the cinders. So his father and his mother grieved over him for many a long day, and at last his mother said to his father: “ What is to be done with our son? Thou dost sce that he has grown up and yet is of no use to us, and he is so foolish that we can do nothing with him. Look now, if we can send him away, let us send him away ; if we can hire him out, let us hire him out; perchance other folks may be able to do more with him than we can.” So his father and mother laid their heads together, and sent him to a tailor’s to learn tailoring. There he remained OH. 3 three days, but then he ran away home, climbed up on the stove, and again began playing with the cinders. His father then gave him a sound drubbing and sent him to a cobbler’s to learn eobbling, but again he ran away home. His father gave him another drubbing and sent him to a blacksmith to learn smith’s work. But there, too, he did not remain long but ran away home again, so what was that poor father to do? “Tl tell thee what T’ll do with thee, thou son of a dog!” said he; ‘I'll take thee, thou lazy lout, into another kingdom. There, perchance, they will be able to teach thee better than they can here, and it will be too far to run away from.” So he took him and set out on his journey, They went on and on, they went a short way and they went a long way, and at last they came to a forest so dark that they could see neither earth nor sky. They went through this forest, but in a short time they grew very tired, and when they came to a path leading to a clearing full of large tree- stumps, the father said: “I am so tired out that I will rest here a little,” and with that he sat down on a tree-stump and eried: “Oh, how tired I am!” He had no sooner said these words, than out of the tree-stump, nobody could say how, sprang such a little little old man all so wrinkled and puekered, and his beard was quite green and reached night down to 4 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. his knee.—‘* What dost thou want of me, O man?” he asked.—The man was amazed at the strangeness of his coming to light, and said to him: “I did not call thee; begone!”—‘* How canst thou say that when thou didst call me?” asked the little old man.— “Who art thou, then?” asked the father.—‘ I am Oh, the Tsar of the Woods,” replied the old man; “why didst thou call me, I say ?”—‘ Away with thee, I did not call thee,” said the man.—‘‘ What! thou didst not call me when thou saidst ‘Oh’ ?”—I was tired, and therefore I said ‘Oh’!” replied the man.—‘* Whither art thou going?” asked Oh—‘ The wide world lies before me,” sighed the man. “ I am taking this scurvy blockhead of mine to hire him out to somebody or other. Perchance other people may be able to knock more sense into him than we can at home; but send him whither we will, he always comes running home again !”—“Hire him out to me [I warrant Pll teach him,” said Oh. ‘ Yet I'll only take him on one condition. Thou shalt come back for him when a year has run, and if thou dost know him again, thou mayest take him; but if thou dost not kuow him again, he shall serve another year with me.’”— “Good!” cried the man. So they shook hands upon it, had a right-down good drink to clinch the bargain, and the man weut back to his own home, while Oh took the son away with him. } lofts A Vie ae STAT ie . qs sieht Be (ee = y erence __ jiwe ie E TaN Le Gs Zs tu j Lo nS ily ies Fig fy [ b Mu Meee Ab Wr Wey ne AN \\ Bad 6 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. Oh took the son away with him, and they passed into the other world, the world beneath the earth, and came to a green hut woven out of rushes, and in this hut everything was green; the walls were green and the benches were green, and Oh’s wife was green and his children were green—ain fact everything there was green. And Oh had water-nixies for serving-maids, and they were all as green as rue. “Sit down now!” said Oh to Lis new labourer, ‘and have a bit of something to eat.” The nixies then brought him some food, and that was also green, and he ate of it. ‘And now,” said Oh, ‘‘take my labourer into the courtyard that he may chop wood and draw water.” So they took him into the courtyard, but instead of chopping any wood he lay down and went to sleep. Oh came out to see how he was getting on, and there OH. if he lay a-snoring. Then Oh seized him, and bade them bring wood and tie his labourer fast to the wood, and set the wood on fire till the labourer was burnt to ashes. Then Oh took the ashes and scattered them to the four winds, but a single piece of burnt coal fell from out of the ashes, and this coal he sprinkled with living water, whereupon the labourer immediately stood there alive again and somewhat handsomer and stronger than before. Oh again bade him chop wood, but again he went to sleep. Then Oh again tied him to the wood and burnt him and scattered the ashes to the four winds and sprinkled the remnant of the coal with living water, and instead of the loutish clown there stood there such a handsome and_ stalwart Cossack * that the like of him can neither be imagined nor described but only told of in tales. There, then, the lad remained for a year, and at the end of the year the father came for his son. He came to the self-same charred stumps in the self-same forest, sat him down, and said: Oh!”—Oh imme- diately came out of the charred stump and said ; “ Hail! O man !”—“ Hail to thee, Oh !”—“ And what dost thou want, O man ?” asked Oh.—‘* I have come,” said he, ‘‘ for my son.”—“ Well, come then! If thou 1 Kozak, a Cossack, being the ideal human hero of the Ruthe- nians, just as a bogatyr is a hero of the demi-god type, as the name implies. & COSSACK FAIRY TALES. dost know him again, thou shalt take him away ; ‘but’ if thou dost not know him, he shall serve with me yet, another year.” So the man went with Oh. They. came to his hut, and Oh took whole handfuls of millet and scattered it about, and myriads of cocks came running up and pecking it. “ Well, dost thou know, thy son again?” said Ob. The man stared and stared. There was nothing but cocks, and one cock was just like another. He could not pick out his son. “Well,” said Oh, “as thou dost not know him, go home again; this year thy son must remain in my service.” So the man went home again. The second year passed away, and the man again went to Oh. He came to the charred stumps and said: “Oh!” and Oh popped out of the tree-stump again. ‘ Come!” said he, “and see if thou canst recognize him now.” Then he took him to a sheep- pen, and there were rows and rows of rams, and one ram was just like another. The man stared and stared, but he could not pick out his son, “Thou mayest as well go home then,” said Oh, ‘ but thy son, shall live with me yet another year.” So the man went away sad at heart. The third year also passed away, and the man came, again to find Oh. He went on and on till there met him an old man all as white as milk, and the raiment of this old man was glistening white. “Hail to thee, OH, ° 9 Oman!” said he.—“ Hail to thee also, my father !” ——“ Whither doth God lead thee 2’”—* JI am going to free my son from Oh.”—* How go ?”’_Then the man told the old white father how he had hired out his son to Oh and under what conditions. said the old white father, “’tis a vile pagan thou hast to deal with; he will lead thee about by the nose for “ Aye, aye!” a long time.”—* Yes,” said the man, “‘I perceive that he is 4 vile pagan ; but I know not what in the world to do with him. Canst thou not tell me then, dear father, how I may recover my son ?”—“ Yes, I can,” gaid the old man.—* Then prythee tell me, darling father, and I'll pray for thee to God all my life, for though he has not been much of a son to me, he is still my own flesh and -blood.”—*« Hearken; then !” said the old man; “when thou dost go to Oh; he will let loose a multitude of doves before thee, but choose not one of these doves. The dove thou’ shalt choose must be the one that comes not out, but remains sitting beneath the pear-tree pruning its feathers; that will be ‘thy son.”’ Then the ma thanked the old white father and went on. 5 He came to the charred stumps. “Oh!” cried he, and out came Oh and led him to his sylvan realm: There Oh seattered about handfuls of wheat and called his doves, and there flew down such a multitude of them that. there was no counting them, and one 10 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. dove was just like another. ‘Dost thou recognize thy son?” asked Oh. “An thou knowest him again, he is thine; an thou knowest him not, he is mine.” Now all the doves there were pecking at the wheat, all but one that sat alone beneath the pear-tree, sticking out its breast and pruning its feathers. “That is my son,” said the man.—‘‘Since thou hast guessed him, take him,” replied Oh. ‘Then the father took the dove, and immediately it changed into a handsome young man, and a handsomer was not to be found in the wide world. The father rejoiced greatly and embraced and kissed him. “ Let us go home, my son!” said he. So they went. As they went along the road together they fell a- talking, and his father asked him how he had fared at Oh’s. The son told him. Then the father told the son what 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 noble- men will want to buy me of thee, and thou must sell me to them for three hundred rubles—only, mind thou sell me without a chain; then we shall Of. 11 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 grey- hound ?”—* It is.’ —“ Tis a good dog ; wilt sell it to us ?”—* Bid for it !”—‘ What dost thou require ?””— “Three hundred rubles without a chain.”—‘ What do we want with thy chain, we would give him a chain of gold. Say a hundred rubles !”—* Nay !”— “Then take thy money and give us the dog.” They counted down the money and 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 12 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. sell me for three hundred rubles, 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 faleon?’”—“ Tis mine.”—“ Sell it to us, then!”—‘‘ Bid for it!”’— ‘What dost thou want for it?”—‘If ye give three hundred rubles, 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 higeled and hageled, but at last they gave him the three hundred rubles. 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 me. They will give’ thee'a thousand rubles 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 Of. 13 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 rubles 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. “Oman! what dost thou want for that horse?” said hé.—* A thousand rubles without the halter.” —*“ N ay! but that is dear, little father! Wilt thou not take five hundred with the halter 2?—<« 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 4” —“ Nevertheless, the halter must remain mine.”—* Look now, my father, [ll give thee five rubles extra, only I must have the halter.’—The old man fell a-thinking, “A halter of this kind is worth but three grivnt,’ and the gipsy offers me five rubles for it; let him have ° 1 A grivna is the tenth part of a ruble, about 22d, aN 14 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. it.” So they clinched the bargain with a good drink,’ and the old man went home with the money, and the gipsy walked off with the horse. But it was not really a gipsy, but Oh, who had taken the shape of a eipsy. 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. And at dawn Oh took the horse by the pridle 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 towards 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 towards me, | 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 Of. 15 overtook the perch. “Perch! perch! turn thy head round towards 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 whittling an ash twig. The perch changed itself into a gold ring set with garnets, and the Tsarivna saw it and 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 fluger 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 ?”—*T 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,” 16 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. 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 pitched the ring upon the ground, and the ring 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 millet-seed. He pecked aud 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 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 lim alone!” For a long time the Tsar wrinkled his brows at the thought of giving his daughter toa simple youth; but at last O#. 17 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 and mead, and what my mouth could not hold ran down over my beard, and my heart rejoiced within me, THE STORY OF THE WIND. NCE upon a time there dwelt two brethren in one village, and one brother was very, very rich, and the other brother was very, very poor. The rich man had wealth of all sorts, but all that the poor man had was a heap of children. One day, at harvest-time, the poor man left his wife and went to reap and thresh out his little plot of wheat, when the Wind came and swept all his corn away down to the very last grain. The poor man was exceeding wrath thereat, and said: ‘Come what will, Vl go seek the Wind, and I'll tell him with what pains and trouble I had got my corn to grow and ripen, and then he, forsooth! must needs come and blow it all away.” So the man went home and made ready to go, and as he was making ready, his wife said to him: THE STORY OF THE WIND. 19 “Whither away, husband ?”—«[ am going to seek the Wind,” said he; “what dost thou say to that?” —“T should say, do no such thing,” replied his wife. “Thou knowest the saying, ‘If thou dost want to find the Wind, seek him on the open steppe. He can go ten different ways to thy one.’ Think of that, dear husband, and go not at all.”—“T mean to go,” replied the man, “though I never return home again.” Then he took leave of hig wife and children, and went straight out into the wide world to seek the Wind on the open steppe. He went on farther and farther til] he saw before him a forest, and on the borders of that forest stood a hut on hens’ legs. The man went into this hut and was filled with astonishment, for there lay on the floor a huge, huge, old man, as grey as milk. He lay there stretched at full length, his head on the seat of honour,’ with an arm and lee in each of the four corners, and all his hair standing on end. I¢ was no other than the Wind himself. The man stared at this awful Ancient with terror, for never in his life had he seen anything like it. “God help thee, old father!” eried he.—« Good health to thee, good man!” said the ancient giant, as he lay on the floor of the hut. Then he asked him in the most * Pokute, the place of honour in a Ruthenian peasant’s hut, at the right-hand side of the entrance. 20 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. friendly manner: “ Whence hath God brought thee hither, good man ?”—*I am wandering through the wide world in search of the Wind,” said the man. “Tf I find him, I will turn back ; if I don’t find him, -Ishall go on and on till I do.”—“ What dost thou want with the Wind?” asked the old giant lying on the floor. “Or what wrong hath he done thee, that thou shouldst seek him out so doggedly ?”—“« What wrong hath he done me?” replied the wayfarer. ‘“ Hearken now, O Ancient, and I will tell thee! I went straight from my wife into the field and reaped my little plot of corn; but when I began to thresh it out, the Wind came and caught and scattered every bit of it in a twinkling, so that there was not a single little grain of it left. So now thou dost see, old man, what I have to thank him for. Tell me, in God’s name, why such things be? My little plot of corn was my all-im-all, and in the sweat of my brow did I reap and thresh it; but the Wind came and blew it all away, so that not a trace of it is to be found in the wide world. Then I thought to myself: ‘Why should he do this?’ And I said to my wife: ‘Tl go seek tue Wind, and say to him: “ Another time, visit not the poor man who hath but a little corn, and blow it not away, for bitterly doth he rue it 1”’"—* Good, my son!” said the giant who lay on the floor. “TJ shall know better in future ; in future AG> ZEEE ii We \ A, 22 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. I will not blow away the poor man’s corn. But, good man, there is no need for thee to seek the Wind in the open steppe, for I myself am the Wind.’— “Then if thou art the Wind,” said the man, “ give me back my corn.”—‘ Nay,” said the giant; “thou canst not make the deal come back from the grave. Yet, inasmuch as I have done thee a mischief, I will now give thee this sack, good man, and do thou take it home with thee. And whenever thou want’st a meal say: ‘Sack, sack, give me to eat and drink !’ and immediately thou shalt have thy fill both of meat and drink, so now thou wilt have wherewithal to comfort thy wife and children.” Then the man was full of gratitude. “I thank thee, O Wind!” said he, ‘‘for thy courtesy in giving me such a sack as will give me my fill of meat and drink without the trouble of working for it.”— “For a lazy loon, *twere a double boon,” said the Wind. ‘Go home, then, but look now, enter no tavern by the way; I shall know it if thou dost.”— “No,” said the man, “I will not.” And then he took leave of the Wind and went his way. He had not gone very far, when he passed by a tavern, and he felt a burning desire to find out whether the Wind had spoken the truth in the matter of the sack. “ How can a man pass a tavern without going into it?” thought he; “Tl go in, come what THE STORY OF THE WIND. 23 may. The Wind won’t know, because he can’t sec.” So he went into the tavern and hung up his sack upon a peg. ‘The Jew who kept the tavern immedi- ately said to him: “What dost thou want, good man ?”—“ What is that to thee, thou dog?” gaid the man.—‘‘ You are all alike,” sneered the Jew, “take what you can, and pay for nothing.”—“ Dost think IT want to buy anything from thee?” shricked the man; then, turning angrily to the sack, he cried: “Sack, sack, give me to eat and drink!” Immedi- ately the table was covered with all sorts of meats and liquors. Then all the Jews in the tavern crowded round full of amazement, and asked all manner of questions. ‘ Why, what is this, good man?” said they; “never have we seen anything like this before !”—*“ Ask no questions, ye accursed Jews!” cried the man, “but sit down to eat, for there is enough for all.” So the Jews and the Jewesses set to and ate until they were full up to the ears; and they drank the man’s health in pitchers of wine of every sort, and said: “ Drink, good man, and spare not, and when thou hast drunk thy fill, thou shalt lodge with us this night. We'll make ready a bed for thee. None shall vex thee. Come now, eat and drink whatever thy soul desires.” So the Jews flattered him with devilish cunning, and almost forced the wine-jars to his lips. at COSSACK FAIRY TALES. The simple fellow did not perceive their malice and cunning, and he got so drunk that he could not move from the place, but went to sleep where he was. Then the Jews changed his sack for another, which they hung up on a peg, and then they woke him. “ Dost hear, fellow!” cried they; “get up, it is time to go home. Dost thou not see the morning light ?” The man sat up and scratched the back of his head, for he was loth to go. But what was he to do? So he shouldered the sack that was hanging on the peg, and went off home. When he got to his house, he cried: “Open the door, wife!” Then his wife opened the door, and he went in and hung his sack on the peg and said: “ Sit down at the table, dear wife, and you children sit down there too. Now, thank God! we shall have enough to eat and drink, and to spare.” The wife looked at her husband and smiled. She thought he was mad, but down she sat, and her children sat down all round her, and she waited to see what her husband would do next. Then the man said: “Sack, sack, ‘give tous meat and drink!” But the suck was silent. Then he said again: “Sack, sack, give my children something to eat!” And still the sack was silent. Then the man fell into a violent rage: ‘Thou didst give me something at the tavern,” cried he; “and now I may call in vain, Thou givest nothing, and THE STORY OF THE WIND. 25 thou hearest nothing ”—and, leaping from his seat, he took up a club and began beating the sack till he had knocked a hole in the wall, and beaten the sack to bits. Then he set off to seck the Wind again. But his wife stayed at home and put everything to rights again, railing and scolding at her husband as a madman. But the man went to the Wind and said: “ Hail to thee, O Wind !”—“Good health to thee, O man!” replied the Wind. Then the Wind asked: ‘“ Wherefore hast thou come hither, O man? Did I not give thee a sack? What more dost thou want ?”—* A pretty sack indeed!” replied the man; “that sack of thine has been the cause of much mischief to me and mine.” —“‘ What mischief has it done thee ?”—‘ Why, look now, old father, I’ll tell thee what it has done. It wouldn’t give me anything to eat and drink, so I began beating it, and beat the wall in. Now what shall I do to repair my crazy hut? Give me some- thing, old father.”—But the Wind replied: “Nay, O man, thou must do without. Fools are neither sown nor reaped, but grow of their own accord—hast thou not been into a tavern ?”—‘T have not,” said the man.—* Thou hast not? Why wilt thou lie?”— “Well, and suppose I did lie?” said the man ; “if thon suffer harm through thine own fault, hold thy tongue about it, that’s what I say. Yet it is all the fault of ‘thy sack that this evil has come upon me. If it had 26 COSSACK FAIRY TALES. only given me to eat and to drink, I should not have come to thee again.” At this the Wind scratched his head a bit, but then he said: “ Well then, thou man! there’s a little ram for thee, and whenever thou dost want money say to it: ‘ Little ram, little ram, scatter money!’ and it will scatter money as much as thou wilt. Only bear this in mind: go not into a tavern, for if thou dost, I shall know all about it; and if thou comest to me a third time, thou shalt have cause to remember it for ever.”—‘‘ Good,” said the man, ‘I won’t go.”—Then he took the little ram, thanked the Wind, and went on his way. So the man went along leading the little ram by a string, and they came to a tavern, that very same tavern where he had been before, and again a strong desire came upon the man to go in. So he stood by the door and began thinking whether he should go in or not, and whether he had any need to find out the truth about the little ram. ‘‘ Well, well,” said he at last, “VIL go in, only this time I won’t get drunk. Tl drink just a glass or so, and then I'll go home.” So into the tavern he went, dragging the little ram after him, for he was afraid to let it go. Now, when the Jews who were inside there saw the little ram, they began shrieking and said: ‘* What art thou thinking of, O man! that thou bringest that little ram into the room? Are there no barns outside THE STORY OF THE WIND. Gir where thou mayest put it up ?””"—“ Hold your tongues, ye accursed wretches!” replied the man: “ what has it got to do with you? It is not the sort of ram that muck-worms like you deal in. And if you don’t believe me, spread a cloth on the floor and you shall se something, I warrant you.”—Then he said: “Tittle ram, little ram, scatter money!” and the little ram scattered so much money that it seemed to grow, and the Jews sereeched like demons.—“