Svyatogór looked round and saw no one, but putting his hand into his pocket there he found Ilyá. The hero asked Ilyá whence he came. Ilyá told him the truth, and Svyatogór was exceeding angry and killed his wife for trying to deceive him. That Ilyá had dealt straightly pleased the hero Svyatogór, and there arose a great friendship between them. Svyatogór exchanged crosses with Ilyá in token of friendship, and called Ilyá his younger brother. He taught Ilyá all the handling of weapons, how to use his mace and his bow and arrows and spear in fighting, and also all the ways of travel of the heroes. Ilyá had called up his good horse from the plain by a loud whistle, and the two heroes, the old Svyatogór and the younger Ilyá of Múrom, rode on together through the open plain till they came to a great tomb built of stone. Upon the tomb was written these words:— “He who is fated to lie in this tomb will exactly fit it.” Ilyá lay down in the tomb, but it was too long and too wide for him, and at once he sprang out of it. The giant hero Svyatogór lay down there, and the tomb just fitted him. “The tomb is just made for me,” said the hero. “Take the lid of the tomb, Ilyá, and cover me.” Ilyá answered: “I will not take up the lid of the tomb, O, my big brother. I will not cover thee. This is a foolish jest of thine—thou wilt bury thyself.” And Svyatogór took the lid and covered himself up in the tomb, but when he tried to lift the lid off again he could not move it. He struggled and strove to lift it, but could do nothing. Then he called to Ilyá: “O, my young brother! It seems that my fate has found me. I cannot raise the lid. Try thou to lift it.” Ilyá of Múrom tried hard to raise the cover, but what could he do? Then said Svyatogór the hero: “Take my sword of steel and strike across the lid of the tomb.” Ilyá tried to lift Svyatogór’s great sword, but could not—it was too heavy for him—and he had to say: “I cannot lift thy sword, O, my brother!” Svyatogór then called to him: “My little brother, bend down to this small chink in the tomb, and I will breathe upon thee the spirit of a hero.” Ilyá bent down to the chink and Svyatogór the hero breathed upon him his hero’s spirit. Ilyá felt that his former strength had become three times as great as before. He took the sword of steel and struck a blow across the lid of the tomb. By this blow sparks were struck, but on the place where he struck the lid there grew a band of iron. The hero Svyatogór called to him again, saying: “My young brother, I am suffocating; try again to strike the lid lengthwise.” Ilyá struck the cover lengthwise with the great sword, but again where he struck there grew a band of iron. Then the hero Svyatogór spoke to him, saying: “My young brother, I am suffocating. Stoop down to the chink and I will breathe upon thee and will give thee all my great strength.” But Ilyá answered: “If I had all thy strength, O, my big brother, Earth would not bear me.”