Vindictively the ogre makes passes in the air. The Prince, bracing himself to meet the attack, endeavours to resist the magic influence, and for the moment is successful. But he reels under the strain of effort, and when a second pass is made it is clear that he is within an ace of succumbing. At his final gasp, however, Ivan bethinks him of the feather bestowed upon him by the Fire Bird. He pulls it from his girdle and brandishes it in his enemy’s face. The ogre staggers back before the flashing token, his discomfiture increasing at the apparition, in the same moment, of the Fire Bird, against whom he knows his black arts to be of no avail. Baffled, he totters to his hunchback retinue, while the Fire Bird usurps his power of domination. With rhythmic gesture it stirs the supine crowd to movement; and the movement it presently excites to a dance, the dance to a frenzy. Now here, now there, flitting to and fro the dazzling creature goads to fiercer efforts. Faster with every moment the pace increases, till the whole mad throng is swept into a wild whirl, which oscillates obedient to the Fire Bird’s waving arms. All at length collapse exhausted upon the ground, and yielding further to the Fire Bird’s mystic influence are presently sunk in slumber. Last to succumb is the thwarted ogre, but even he is forced to give way to the drowsiness which assails him. Standing amongst the prostrate figures the Fire Bird points to the sleeping figure of Tsarevna, and with signs directs the wondering Ivan to remove her to a post of safety. The young man obeys, and gently props the inert body of the Princess against the trunk of a convenient tree. Then, further following the directions of his protector, he steps into a hollow tree and fetches from it a casket. As he emerges with this in his hand the sleepers stir uneasily, and as he places it on the ground and lifts the lid their torpor swiftly leaves them. Excitedly they raise themselves, while the ogre, starting from slumber, dashes forward in an agony of fear. [Illustration] From the casket Ivan draws forth a monstrous egg, which he holds aloft. The ogre’s terror is dire--for the egg contains his soul, and he is Kostchei Live-for-Ever only so long as the egg remains unbroken. The strange object exercises an almost equal fascination upon the victims of the ogre’s malice. Every eye is fixed upon it. Ivan makes as if to drop it, and a shudder runs through all; when sportively he throws it lightly from hand to hand, there is pitiful consternation. The ogre is in the last extremity of fright. Desperately he endeavours to seize the precious thing, but Ivan is too quick, and raising the egg above his head he dashes it to the ground. As it breaks in two Kostchei Live-for-Ever falls dead at his feet. There is a loud crash, and black darkness.