“Well, he is standing at his feet; then he will survive. If Death stands at his head, then he cannot live another day.” So the devil took the glass with the water in it and poured it over the soldier’s son, and in that same minute the son became well. “Give me this glass,” the soldier said, “and I shall never trouble you for anything more.” And the devil presented him with the glass, and the soldier returned him the undertaking. Then the soldier became an enchanter, and set about curing the _boyárs_ and the generals. He would go and look at the glass, and instantly he knew who had to die and who should recover. Now, the Tsar himself became ill, and the soldier was called in. So he poured cold water into the glass, put it at the Tsar’s head, and saw that Death was standing at the Tsar’s head. The soldier said: “Your Imperial Majesty, there is nobody in the world who can cure you. Death is standing at your head, and you have only three hours left of life.” When the Tsar heard this speech, he was furious with the soldier. “What, what!” he shrieked at him. “You who have cured so many _boyárs_ and generals, cannot do anything for me! I shall instantly have you put to death.” So the soldier thought and thought what he should do. And he began to beseech Death. “O Death,” he said, “give the Tsar my life and take me instead, for it doesn’t matter to me whether I live or die; for it is better to die by my own death than to suffer such a cruel punishment.” And he looked in the glass, and saw that Death was standing at the Tsar’s feet. Then the soldier took the water and sprinkled the Tsar, and he recovered completely. “Now, Death,” said the soldier, “give me only three hours’ interval in order that I may go home and say farewell to my wife and my son.” “Well, you may have three hours. Go,” Death replied. So the soldier went away home, lay down on his bed, and became very ill. And when Death was standing very near him, she said, “Now, discharged soldier, say good-bye quickly—you have only three minutes left to live in the bright world.” So the soldier stretched himself out, took his nosebag from under his head, opened it, and asked: “What is this?” Death answered: “A nosebag.” “Well, if it is a nosebag, then jump into it!” And Death instantly jumped straight into the bag. And the soldier, ill as he was, jumped up from his bed, buckled the nosebag together firmly, very tightly, threw it on his shoulder, and went into the Bryánski Woods, the slumbrous forest. And he went there, and he hung this bag on the bitter aspen, on the very top twig, and he went back home.