Origin: Russia
Book: This story was part of a 600 story collection that was collected and published between 1855 and 1863. There are many titles attributed to this extensive collection. One being “Russian Folk Tales.” This story is now public domain.
Author: Alexander Afanasyev
Published: 1855-1863
In a certain kingdom, in a certain land, there lived a Tsar, and he had three sons. The eldest was named Fedor, he second was named Vasilli, and the youngest was named Ivan.
This Tsar was in his old age, and his eyesight was poor. And he heard that beyond three-nine lands, into the three-tenth kingdom there was an orchard where apples of youth grew, and where a well full of living water could be found. If the old man could eat such an apple, he would find youth, and if he could wash his eyes with that water, his sight would be restored.
Therefore the Tsar ordered a feast to be prepared and he called all the princes and all the boyars, and he told them, “Who among you, faithful noblemen, would be first among the chosen, first to volunteer, who would ride beyond three-nine lands, into the three-tenth kingdom, and would bring me some apples of youth and a ewer full of living water? I would give half my kingdom to such a man.”
The boyars all looked at their feet.
Prince Fedor came out, and said, I will go on that errand, and I will bring you some apples of youth and a ewer full of living water.”
Fedor went to the stables, chose a horse, put on it a bridle, took out a brand-new whip, and secured the saddle with twelve straps, and one more: he did not do it for looks, but for strength. Then prince Fedor took off on his errand: he was seen mounting up, but not leaving.
He rode far, or he rode near, he rode high, or he rode low — he rode from dawn to dusk. He arrived at a crossroads where three roads met. There was flat at that crossroads, and there was an inscription inscribed on it:
“Whoever takes the right road will save himself and lose his horse. Whoever takes the left road will save his horse and lose himself. Whoever rides straight ahead will find a wife.”
Fedor thought to himself: “I shall ride where I will find a wife.”
And he went straight ahead. He rode, and he rode some more, and he arrived to a tall and he arrived to a tall castle with golden roofs. A beautiful maiden ran out to greet him.
“O prince, I shall help you dismount, come with me, partake of my hospitality.”
“No, fair maiden, I do not wish to dine, and sleep will not make the road grow shorter. I must ride on.”
“O prince, do not hasten to ride on, hasten to take pleasure in life.”
Then the fair maiden helped him dismount and took him inside the castle. She fed him, and gave him to drink. No sooner did prince Fedor finish eating than she turned over his chair and the prince fell down into the cellar, deep into a dungeon.
After a time, long or short, the Tsar again ordered a great feast to be prepared and he called all the princes and all the boyars, and he told them:
“Who among you, faithful noblemen, would be first among the chosen, first to volunteer, who would ride beyond three-nine lands, into the three-tenth kingdom, and would bring me some apples of youth and a ewer full of living water? I would give half my kingdom to such a man.
Prince Vasilii came out, and said, “I will go on this errand, and I will bring you some apples of youth and a ewer full of living water.”
Vasilii went to the stables, chose a green-broke horse, put on it a brand-new bridle, took out a brand-new whip, and secured the saddle with twelve straps, and one more: he did not do it for looks, but for strength. Then prince Vasilii took off on his errand: he was seen mounting up, but no one saw which way he went.
He rode far, or he rode near, he rode high, or he rode low — he rode from dawn to dusk. He arrived at a crossroads where three roads met. There was a flat stone at that crossroads, and there was an inscription inscribed on it:
“Whoever takes the right road will save himself and lose his horse. Whoever takes the left road will save his horse and lose himself. Whoever rides straight ahead will find a wife.”
Vasilii thought to himself, “I shall ride where I will find a wife.”
And he went straight ahead. He rode, and he rode some more, and he arrived to a tall castle with golden roofs. A beautiful maiden ran out to greet him:
“O prince, I shall help you dismount, come with me, partake of my hospitality.”
“No, fair maiden, I do not wish to dine, and sleep will not make the road grow shorter. I must ride on.”
“O prince, do not hasten to ride on, hasten to take pleasure in life.”
Then the fair maiden helped him dismount and took him inside the castle. She fed him, and gave him to drink. No sooner did prince Vasilii finish eating than she turned over his chair and the prince fell down into the cellar, deep into a dungeon.
As he fell, a voice called out to him, “”Who falls?”
“Prince Vasilii. Who has fallen?”
“Prince Fedor.”
“Well, brother, we certainly fell for it!”
After a time, long or short, the Tsar ordered for the third time a great feast to be prepared and he called all the princes and all the boyars, and he told them “”Who among you, faithful noblemen, would be first among the chosen, first to volunteer, who would ride beyond three-nine lands, into the three-tenth kingdom, and would bring me some apples of youth and a ewer full of living water? I would give half my kingdom to such a man.”
Prince Ivan came out, and said, “”Father, give me your blessing to go on this errand, to bring you some apples of youth and some living water, and also to look for my brothers.”
The Tsar gave him his blessing. Prince Ivan went to the stables to look for a horse to suit him. But when he looked at a horse, it shook all over, and when he put his hand on a horse, it fell to its knees.
Ivan could find no horse to suit him. He went out, his brash head bowed low. An old woman came up to him, and asked, “Good morning, child, prince Ivan! Why are you so glum?”
“How can I not be glum when I cannot find a horse to ride on my errand.”
“You only needed to ask me! There is a good horse that will suit you in the dungeon, tied down with an iron chain. If you can take it, you will find it is a good horse.
Prince Ivan went to the dungeon, he removed an iron plate from the opening. He ran up to the good horse, and the horse put its forelegs on Ivan’s shoulders. Ivan did not flinch. The horse tore off the iron chain, burst out of the dungeon, taking Ivan with it. Ivan put a brand-new bridle, and a brand-new saddle on the horse, and twelve straps, and one more — he did not do it for looks, but for strength.
Then Prince Ivan set out on his errand: he was seen mounting up, but he was not seen leaving. He reached the crossroads and stopped to consider the inscription.
“If I go right, I’ll lose my horse. And what would I do without a horse? If I go straight, I’ll be wed. That’s not what I’m after. If I go left, I’ll save my horse. That’s the best way for me.”
And he turned onto the road where he would save his horse, but lose himself. He rode for a time, long or short, he rode high, or he rode low, over green fields, over rocky mountains, he rode from dawn to dusk, and reached a small izba (the Russion name for a small country dwelling). It stood on a chicken leg, and had only one window.
“Izba, little izba, turn your back on the forest, your front towards me! As I enter, so will I leave.”
The little izba turned its back on the forest, and its front towards Prince Ivan. He went in, and saw an old crone
“Ugh, Ugh,” she said, “I haven’t heard a Russian in a long time, haven’t seen one even longer, and here’s one coming to me! Are you seeking something, or running away from it?”
“How so, baba-yaga, you question me even before you greet me! Won’t you offer me food and drink, and a bed for the night? Then I will tell you all about me and my errand.”
The baba-yaga did just that, gave food and drink to Ivan, and made his bed, sat down by his side, and asked, “Well now, where are you from, good man, brave youth? What land? Who are your father and your mother?”
“Grandmother, I am from such-and-such a kingdom, such-and-such a land, I am Prince Ivan the Tsar’s son. I am riding beyond three-nine lands, beyond three-ten kingdoms, to fetch apples of youth and living water.”
“Oh, my dear child, you have far to travel. The apples of youth and the living water belong to a powerful warrior maiden named Sineglazka. She is my own niece. I don’t know whether you will be able to obtain those goods.”
“Well, grandmother, would you lend your head to my shoulders, and advise me on what to do?”
“Many a youth went this way, few spoke courteously. Take my horse, child. My horse runs faster, it will take you to my middle sister, she will advise you.”
Prince Ivan arose early in the morning. He thanked the baba-yaga for her hospitality, and rode off on her horse.
Prince Ivan traveled far, or maybe near, he traveled all day till dark. Then he saw a small izba ahead. It stood on a chicken leg, and had only one window.
“Izba, little izba, turn your back on the forest, your front towards me! As I enter, so will I leave.”
The little izba turned its back on the forest, and its front towards Ivan. Suddenly, a horse neighed and the horse Ivan rode neighed in answer. The horses were herd-mates.
The baba-yaga in the izba (even older than the first one) heard the horses and said, “Sounds like my sister comes to visit.”
And she came out on the porch.
“Ugh, Ugh,” she said, “I haven’t heard a Russian in a long time, haven’t seen one even longer, and here’s one coming to me! Are you seeking something, or running away from it?”
“How so, baba-yaga, you question me even before you greet me! Won’t you offer me food and drink, and a bed for the night? Then I will tell you all about me and my errand.”
The baba-yaga did just that, gave food and drink to Ivan, and made his bed, sat down by his side, and asked, “Well now, where are you from, good man, brave youth? What land? Who are your father and your mother?”
“Grandmother, I am from such-and-such a kingdom, such-and-such a land, I am prince Ivan the Tsar’s son. I am riding beyond three-nine lands, beyond three-ten kingdoms, to fetch apples of youth and living water from the mighty warrior-maiden Sineglazka.”
“Oh, child, I don’t know whether you will be able to obtain what you seek. The road is difficult to the abode of the maiden Sineglazka!”
“Well, grandmother, would you lend your head to my shoulders, and advise me on what to do?”
“Many a youth went this way, few spoke courteously. Take my horse, child. My horse runs faster, it will take you to my older sister, she can advise you better than I.”
Prince Ivan arose early in the morning. He thanked the baba-yaga for her hospitality, and rode off on her horse.
Prince Ivan traveled the whole day from dawn to dusk. He arrived to a small izba. It stood on a chicken leg, and had only one window.
“Izba, little izba, turn your back on the forest, your front towards me! As I enter, so will I leave.”
The little izba turned its back on the forest, and its front towards Ivan. Suddenly, a horse neighed and the horse Ivan rode neighed in answer. Another baba-yaga came out, old, even older than the second. She looked at the horse, recognized it as her sister’s, but the rider was a stranger, a handsome young man.
Then Prince Ivan bowed to her courteously, and asked her for her hospitality. The baba-yaga had to offer him her hospitality: it was due to all, to those who came on horseback and those who came on foot, to rich and poor alike.
The baba-yaga took care of everything in no time at all. She stabled the horse, and gave food and drink to Prince Ivan, and then she questioned him.
“Well now, where are you from, good man, brave youth? What land? Who are your father and your mother?”
“Grandmother, I am from such-and-such a kingdom, such-and-such a land, I am Prince Ivan the Tsar’s son. I was at your youngest sister’s, and she sent me to your middle sister, who sent me to you. I am riding beyond three-nine lands, beyond three-ten kingdoms, to fetch apples of youth and living water from the mighty warrior-maiden Sineglazka.”
“Oh, child, I don’t know whether you will be able to obtain what you seek. The road is difficult to the abode of the maiden Sineglazka!”
“Well, grandmother, would you lend your head to my shoulders, and advise me on what to do?”
“Many a youth went this way, few spoke courteously. Oh, well, I will help you. The maiden Sineglazka is my niece; she is a powerful and mighty warrior. Her kingdom is surrounded by a wall high and thick. There is a guard at the gate. They won’t even let you in. You have to go there in the middle of the night, on my own good horse. Once you’re at the foot of the wall, whip the horse with a never-lashed whip: it will jump the wall. Tie down the horse and go into the garden. You will see the apple tree with the apples of youth, and a well under the tree. Take three apples, not one more. And fill a ewer with the water. The maiden Sineglazka will be sleeping, don’t you go into her chambers, get back on the horse and whip him stoutly: he’ll jump the wall again.”
Ivan did not spend the night at this old woman’s home. He mounted her good horse and rode off in the dark. This horse hopped over swamps and bogs, jumped over rivers and lakes.
After a long time or a short, having ridden high, or maybe low, Prince Ivan arrived in the middle of the night to the foot of a towering wall. There was a guard of thirty three warriors at the gates. Ivan squeezed the horse with his legs, whipped him with his never-lashed whip. The horse was angered, and jumped over the wall. Prince Ivan dismounted, went into the garden. There stood an apple tree with silver leaves and golden apples, and there was a well under the tree. Prince Ivan picked three apples and filled his ewer from the well. And then he desired to see the powerful, mighty warrior-maiden Sineglazka with his own eyes.
Prince Ivan went into the castle, where everybody was sleeping: on one side slept six warrior-maidens, and on the other side slept six warrior maidens, and in the middle the warrior-maiden Sineglazka was sprawled all over her bed in her sleep, roaring like mountain rapids.
Prince Ivan could not resist. He kissed her and left. He mounted his good horse, but the horse said to him in a human voice, “You did not do as you were told, Prince Ivan, you went into the castle to see the maiden Sineglazka! Now I won’t be able to jump over the wall.”
Prince Ivan whipped the horse with his brand-new whip.
“You old nag-bag of grass, we won’t just spend the night here, we’ll lose our heads!”
The horse was angered more than ever, and he jumped over the wall. But, when he caught a shoe on the top of the wall strings sounded and bells rang.
The maiden Sineglazka awoke and saw that she had been burglarized.
“Awake, awake! We have been robbed of our goods!”
She commanded that her warrior’s horse be saddled, and raced off with the twelve warrior-maidens in pursuit of Prince Ivan.
Prince Ivan was riding as fast as his horse could go, and the maiden Sineglazka was hard on his heels. Prince Ivan arrived to house of the oldest baba-yaga, and she had a horse all ready for him. Ivan changed horses on the fly and raced off. He was scarcely out the gates when Sineglazka rode in, asking the baba-yaga:
“Grandmother, did an animal pass by here?”
“No, child.”
“Did a man ride by here?”
“No, child. But won’t you have a cup of milk after all this riding?”
“I would, grandmother, but it takes a long time to milk a cow.”
“Oh, no, child, it won’t take but a moment.”
The baba-yaga went to milk the cow, and she took her time. The maiden Sineglazka had a cup of milk and set off again in pursuit of Prince Ivan.
Prince Ivan arrived at the house of the younger baba-yaga, changed horses, and raced on. He was scarcely out the gates when Sineglazka rode in.
“Grandmother, did an animal pass by, did a man ride by here?”
“No, child. But won’t you have some pancakes after all this riding?”
“It will take you so long to fry them!”
“Oh, no, child, it won’t take but a moment.”
The baba-yaga fried a mountain of pancakes, taking her time to prepare them. The maiden Sineglazka ate them and raced off after Prince Ivan.
Prince Ivan arrived at the house of the youngest baba-yaga, dismounted and got on his own good horse, and raced off. He was scarcely out the gates when Sineglazka rode in and asked the baba-yaga whether a man had ridden by.
“No, child. But won’t you take a nice bath after all this riding?”
“It will take you so long to heat up the bath house!”
“Oh, no, child, it won’t take but a moment!”
The baba-yaga heated up the bath house, and prepared everything. The maiden Sineglazka had a steam bath, and then raced off after Prince Ivan. Her horse jumped from mountain to mountain, hopped over rivers and lakes. Soon she started catching up after Ivan.
Ivan saw that he was pursued: twelve warrior maidens, and a thirteenth — the maiden Sineglazka. They were about to catch up with him, and they were ready to behead him. He slowed down his horse, and the maiden Sineglazka rode up to him and yelled, “You thief, why did you drink from my well and not replace the cover?”
He answered, “Let’s ride three horse-jumps apart and measure our strength against each other.”
Then Prince Ivan and the maiden Sineglazka rode three horse-jumps apart, took out their warrior maces, their long-measured lances, their sharp sabers. They met each other three times. They broke their maces, they split their lances, they dulled their sabers, and yet neither could throw the other to the ground. There was no point in fighting a-horseback: they jumped off, and fought on bare-handed.
They fought from morning till night, till the bright sun set. Prince Ivan’s leg slipped, he fell to the ground. The maiden Sineglazka put her knee on his and took out her great dagger to stab him in the heart.
Prince Ivan said to her, “Do not slay me, fair maiden Sineglazka, take me instead by my white hands, help me rise from the ground, kiss me on my sweet lips.”
Then the maiden Sineglazka helped Prince Ivan to stand up, and kissed him on his sweet lips. They set up their pavillion in the wide field, in the open plain, on the green grass. They spent three days and three nights there. There they were wed and exchanged rings.
The maiden Sineglazka said to him, “I will ride home, and you go home as well, but beware, do not turn from your path anywhere… Await me in your kingdom three years hence.”
They mounted up and rode away. After a long time, or maybe a short — events happen slowly, but a tale is quickly told — Prince Ivan arrived at the crossroads where the flat stone lay, and thought:
“This is not good! I am riding home, and my brothers are lost without a trace.”
He did not follow the orders of the maiden Sineglazka. He turned onto the road that promised marriage. He arrived to the castle with the golden roofs. Suddenly Prince Ivan’s horse neighed, and his brothers’ horses responded, for the horses were herd-mates.
Prince Ivan went up the stairs to the porch and knocked the ring so hard the finials on the rooftops shook and the window frames became crooked. A beautiful maiden ran out.
“Oh, Prince Ivan, I have been waiting for you for so long! Come, partake of my hospitality, and spend the night.”
She took him into the castle, and served him a real feast. Prince Ivan did not eat so much as he threw under the table, he did not drink so much as he poured out under the table. Then he flipped her chair and fell into the cellar, the deep dungeon.
Prince Ivan leaned over the dungeon and called out:
“Who’s alive down there?”
And he was answered, “Prince Fedor and Prince Vasilii!”
Prince Ivan pulled them out of the dungeon. Their faces were black with dirt, moss had begun to grow on them. Prince Ivan washed his brothers off with living water, and they became as before.
They mounted up on their horses and rode off. After a long while, or a short, they arrived at the crossroads. Prince Ivan told his brothers, “”Watch my horse while I rest a little.”
He lay down on the silky grass and fell into a deep warrior’s sleep. But Prince Fedor said to Prince Vasilii, “If we return without apples of youth or living water, there will be little fame for us, our father will send us out first.”
Prince Vasilii answered, “Let’s throw Prince Ivan into a deep ravine, and let’s take these things and hand them over to our father.”
So they took the apples of youth and the living water out of Ivan’s pocket, and threw Ivan into a deep ravine. Prince Ivan fell for three days and three nights before he reached the bottom.
Prince Ivan fell onto a sea shore, came to, and saw that there was nothing around him, just the sky and the water, and under an old oak tree, some fledgling birds were calling, for the sea was pummeling them.
Prince Ivan took off his caftan covered up the fledglings, and hid under the oak tree.
The weather calmed, and the great bird Nagai came flying. She arrived, landed under the tree, and asked her fledglings, “My dear little children, did you suffer from the terrible weather?”
The bird Nagai asked Prince Ivan, “How did you happen to be here, good man?”
“My own brothers threw me into the ravine for the apples of youth and the living water I had.”
“You protected my little ones, ask anything you want: gold, silver, precious stones.”
“I do not need anything, Nagai: I do not need gold, or silver, or precious stones. But can I return to my native land?”
The bird Nagai answered him, “Find two barrels, each full of the meat of twelve geese.”
So Prince Ivan shot many geese. He put the meat into two barrels, and put one barrel on the right shoulder of the bird Nagai, the other on the left, and sat on her back. Then he began feeding the bird, and she took off and rose higher and higher.
She flew, and Prince Ivan kept feeding and feeding her. They flew a long time thus, or maybe a short time, and Ivan fed both barrels to the bird. And Nagai turned her beak to him again. Ivan took out his knife, cut a chunk off his thigh, and gave it to the bird Nagai. She flew further, and turned her beak to him again. Ivan cut a chunk off his other leg and fed it to her. They were almost there, and the bird turned to Ivan a third time, and he cut a chunk off his chest and fed it to her.
Then the bird Nagai arrived in Prince Ivan’s native land.
“You fed me well the whole time, but the last piece was the most delicious, I have never eaten the like of it.”
Prince Ivan showed her his wounds. The bird Nagai regurgitated the last three chunks, and said, “Put them back where they belong.”
Prince Ivan did so, and the chunks adhered to his bones.
“Now dismount, Prince Ivan, I shall fly home.”
The bird Nagai rose in the air, and Prince Ivan went his way home.
He arrived at the capital, and found out that Prince Fedor and Prince Vasilii had brought their father the apples of youth and the living water, and that the Tsar was healed: he recovered his good health and his sight.
Prince Ivan did not go to his father, or to his mother. He gathered all the drunkards, the barflies, and went from tavern to tavern.
At that time, beyond three-nine lands, in the three-tenth kingdom, the mighty warrior Sineglazka gave birth to two sons. They grew hour by hour, not day by day. A tale is quickly told, a deed is done slowly: three years passed. Sineglazka took her sons, gathered her army, and rode out in search of Prince Ivan.
She arrived in his kingdom, and set up her white pavilion in the wide field, in the open plain, on the green grass. She carpeted the path to the pavilion with bright cloth. And she sent a messenger to the capital to say to the Tsar:
“Tsar, give up your son. If you do not, I will trample your whole kingdom, I will burn it, I will take you prisoner.”
The Tsar was frightened and he sent his oldest son, Prince Fedor. Fedor walked on the bright cloth, and arrived at the white pavilion. Two boys ran out.
“Mother, mother, is this our father coming?”
“No, children, this is your uncle.”
“What should we do with him, mother?”
“Treat him as he deserves, children.”
The two little boys took some switches and began whipping Prince Fedor just below his back. They whipped him stoutly, and he barely managed to get away.
And Sineglazka sent another messenger to the Tsar: “Give up your son!”
The Tsar was even more frightened, and he sent his middle son, Prince Vasilii. He arrived at the white pavilion. Two boys ran out:
“Mother, mother, is this our father?”
“No, children, this is your uncle. Treat him as he deserves.”
The two little boys took some switches again and began whipping Prince Vasilii just below his back. They whipped him stoutly, and he barely managed to get away.
And Sineglazka sent a third messenger to the Tsar:
“Go find your third son, Prince Ivan. If you do not find him, I will trample and burn your whole kingdom.”
The Tsar was frightened even more than before, and sent for Prince Fedor and Prince Vasilii, and ordered them to find their brother, Prince Ivan. But the brothers fell to their knees and confessed how they took the living water and the apples of youth from the sleeping Prince Ivan and threw him into a deep ravine.
Upon hearing this, the Tsar shed many tears. At that time, Prince Ivan was making his way by himself to Sineglazka’s pavilion, and all the barflies went with him. They tore up the bright cloth underfoot and tossed it to the wind.
Prince Ivan arrived at the white tent. Two boys ran out:
“Mother, mother, some drunkard is coming here with many barflies!”
Sineglazka answered them, “Take him by his white hands, bring him into the tent. This is your own father. He has been suffering for no reason for three years!”
The boys took Prince Ivan by his white hands and brought him into the tent. Sineglazka washed him and combed his hair, put fresh clothes on him, and put him to bed. Then she gave a drink to each barfly and they went their way.
The following day, Sineglazka and Prince Ivan arrived at the Tsar’s palace. Then there was a great feast, and wedding to follow. Prince Fedor and Prince Vasilii earned little fame: they were thrown out from the palace to spend a night here, a night there, and the third nowhere.
Prince Ivan did not want his kingdom, he went away with Sineglazka to her own kingdom.
And that is the end of the story.