St. Friday and St. Wednesday appear to belong to that class of spiritual beings, sometimes of a demoniacal disposition, with which the imagination of the old Slavonians peopled the elements. Of several of these--such as the Domovoy or House-Spirit, the Rusalka or Naiad, and the Vodyany or Water-Sprite--I have written at some length elsewhere,[263] and therefore I will not at present quote any of the stories in which they figure. But, as a specimen of the class to which such tales as these belong, here is a skazka about one of the wood-sprites or Slavonic Satyrs, who are still believed by the peasants to haunt the forests of Russia. In it we see reduced to a vulgar form, and brought into accordance with everyday peasant-life, the myth which appears to have given rise to the endless stories about the theft and recovery of queens and princesses. The leading idea of the story is the same, but the Snake or Koshchei has become a paltry wood-demon, the hero is a mere hunter, and the princely heroine has sunk to the low estate of a priest's daughter. THE LÉSHY.[264] A certain priest's daughter went strolling in the forest one day, without having obtained leave from her father or her mother--and she disappeared utterly. Three years went by. Now in the village in which her parents dwelt there lived a bold hunter, who went daily roaming through the thick woods with his dog and his gun. One day he was going through the forest; all of a sudden his dog began to bark, and the hair of its back bristled up. The sportsman looked, and saw lying in the woodland path before him a log, and on the log there sat a moujik plaiting a bast shoe. And as he plaited the shoe, he kept looking up at the moon, and saying with a menacing gesture:-- "Shine, shine, O bright moon!" The sportsman was astounded. "How comes it," thinks he, "that the moujik looks like that?--he is still young; but his hair is grey as a badger's."[265] He only thought these words, but the other replied, as if guessing what he meant:-- "Grey am I, being the devil's grandfather!"[266] Then the sportsman guessed that he had before him no mere moujik, but a Léshy. He levelled his gun and--bang! he let him have it right in the paunch. The Léshy groaned, and seemed to be going to fall across the log; but directly afterwards he got up and dragged himself into the thickets. After him ran the dog in pursuit, and after the dog followed the sportsman. He walked and walked, and came to a hill: in that hill was a fissure, and in the fissure stood a hut. He entered the hut--there on a bench lay the Léshy stone dead, and by his side a damsel, exclaiming, amid bitter tears:-- "Who now will give me to eat and to drink?" "Hail, fair maiden!" says the hunter. "Tell me whence thou comest, and whose daughter thou art?" "Ah, good youth! I know not that myself, any more than if I had never seen the free light--never known a father and mother."