Free Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics) by Unknown Page A

sickly. The little white duck took good care of all three of them. Soon they had learned how to catch gold fish, how to gather up little scraps of cloth and sew themselves fine kaftans, how to swim through the tall reeds, how to climb up onto the green meads. ‘No, no, children, not so far!’ the mother kept telling them. ‘Not
that
way!’ The children did not listen. One day they played about on the bank; the next day they were in the garden. One day they were on the green sward; the next day they were in the great yard. The witch knew them; she sensed who they were and gnashed her teeth. Then she called them after her. She gave them food and drink and put them to bed. Then she went and told her servants to light the fire, to boil the water and sharpen their knives.
    The two strong brothers went straight to sleep. But the little sickly one felt too cold. Usually his brothers did as their mother said and kept him warm in their bosoms – but this time they had forgotten. Towards midnight the witch crept up to the door. ‘Little ones, are you asleep yet?’ she called. She heard a little voice answer:
We’re asleep yet not asleep.
    We are thinking a strange thought,
    Thinking we are to be slaughtered,
    That cranberry branches are burning,
    That cauldrons are steaming,
    That steel knives are being sharpened.
    ‘Not asleep yet,’ the witch said to herself. She went away, walked about for a while, then asked again, ‘Little ones, are you asleep yet?’ The little sickly one gave the same answer:
We’re asleep yet not asleep.
    We are thinking a strange thought,
    Thinking we are to be slaughtered,
    That cranberry branches are burning,
    That cauldrons are steaming,
    That steel knives are being sharpened
.
    ‘Why’s there only one voice?’ thought the witch. She gently opened the door and looked in. The two strong brothers were fast asleep. She touched them with a dead hand and they died. 1 In the morning the little white duck called for her ducklings, but no one came. Her heart guessed what had happened, and she flew straight to the courtyard.
    There side by side lay her children, white as handkerchiefs and cold as stones. She rushed towards them, stretched out her wings and wrapped them over her children. In the voice of a mother, she began to lament:
Krya-krya-krya, little children!
    Quack-quack, my little doves!
    Though we lived in need, I gave you my all.
    I gave you my own tears to drink;
    I lay awake through the darkest nights;
    All that was sweet was yours to eat.
    ‘Listen, wife! Who’d have believed it? There’s a duck out here that can talk.’
    ‘What’s the matter with you, husband? You must be dreaming. Anyway, what’s the duck doing in the yard? Tell someone to drive it away.’
    The prince had the duck driven away. She flew straight back again and began to sing to her children:
Krya-krya-krya, little children!
    Quack-quack, my little doves!
    A cruel snake has destroyed you,
    An evil witch has been the death of you.
    She took you away from your father,
    She took you from my dear husband,
    She drowned us in a swift stream,
    She turned us into white ducks
    So she can strut, strut, strut about the palace.
    ‘What’s all this?’ thought the prince. And then he shouted out, ‘Catch me the little white duck!’ Everyone rushed about, but the little white duck always kept just out of their reach. Then the prince tried himself – and she flew straight into his hands.
    He held her by one wing and said, ‘Be a silver birch behind me! Be a fair maiden before me!’ A silver birch sprang up behind him and a fair maiden appeared before him – and this fair maiden was his young princess. Then they caught a magpie, tied two little vials to her legs and told her to fetch life-giving water in one and talking water in the other. The magpie flew off and brought back the water. The parents sprinkled their little ones with life-giving water – and the children gave a start. They sprinkled them with talking water