Well, there was no help for it: so the Tsarévna herself got out of her carriage, recognised him and swooned. But he took the whip, struck her on the back: “You are a maiden, now become a mare!” And the Tsarévna turned into a mare. He bridled and rode her, and went to the kingdom of his elder brother. He galloped at a full pace, put both spurs into her back and used a scourge of three iron rods, and the army followed him, an unbelievable host. It may be long, it may be short, at last they came to the boundary, and the doughty youth stopped, collected his army into the barrel, and went to the capital. He went straight to the royal palace, and the king himself saw him and looked at the mare and began to wonder: “What is this great hero approaching? I have never seen such a fine mare in all my life.” So he sent his generals to trade for that horse. “No, what an envious king you have!” said the youth. “It would evidently be out of the question in your city to come here with a young wife; if you are so greedy for a mare, you would certainly take away my wife.” Then he went to the palace and said, “Hail, brother!” “Oh, I never knew you!” So they set to kissing each other. “What sort of barrel have you?” “That is for drinking. How should I journey forth on the road otherwise?” “And the carpet?” “Sit down and you will find out.” So they sat on the flying carpet, and the younger brother shook it at the corner and they flew higher than the forest, lower than the wandering cloud, straight back to their own country. So they flew back, took a room with their father, and as to who they were they never told their father and mother. So they then thought they would give a feast to all the christened world. They assembled all the people in countless hosts, and for three whole days they gave food and drink to all without requital, without any charge. And afterwards every one began saying had any one a tale of wonder to tell; let him start. But no one would say: “We, it is said, are strange folk, but——” “Well, I will tell you a story,” said the younger brother; “only do not talk until the end. Whoever interrupts three times is to be ruthlessly punished.” So they all agreed. And he began to tell how the two old folks had lived together, how they had had a hen which laid jewels, and how the mother had made friends with the apprentice. “What a lie!” interrupted the mistress. But the son went on with his tale. And he narrated how they had twisted the hen’s neck, and the mother again interrupted. At last the story went up to the point when the old woman wished to take away the children, and again she would not stand it: “It is untrue!” she said. “Could ever such a thing happen? Could ever a mother wish to be torn from her children?” “Obviously, it is possible. Look at us, mother; we are your children.”