The Russian story book : $b containing tales from the song-cycles of Kiev and Novgorod and other early sourcesWilson, Richard
General
The Russian story book : $b containing tales from the song-cycles of Kiev and Novgorod and other early sources
Wilson, Richard
Mythology, Slavic -- Juvenile literature
Now the Great White Tsar and his Tsaritza, Golden Tress, had three
sons, Peter, Vasily, and Ivan, and one great enemy, Whirlwind the
Whistler, whom he feared greatly, because this impetuous foe had
vowed with a shriek and a howl to come at sunset and whirl away Golden
Tress from the palace of the Little Father.
One evening Golden Tress went out with a company of maidens and nurses
to walk in the gardens of the palace, and Whirlwind saw his chance. He
rushed down upon the palace garden, blinding the eyes of all so that
they could not see what tricks he was playing; and when the maidens and
nurses opened their eyes they saw nothing at all and heard nothing at
all except a far-off call of distress and a shriek of spiteful fury;
for Whirlwind the Whistler had carried away Golden Tress to his den
among the fastnesses of the mountains, while the trees bowed in fear
before him as he took his way across the open steppe.
The Great White Tsar was now in deep distress, and knew not what to
do. Years went by and still he knew not what to do, but one day it
occurred to him to ask the help of his sons, who were now grown into
fine young men. "My dear boys," he said, "which of you will go and
seek Golden Tress?" "We will go, and at once, father," said the two
elder brothers, and without delay they set out upon their quest.
When they had been gone for some time the youngest son, Ivan, said to
his father, "Let me go also, my father, to seek Golden Tress." "No,"
said the Tsar, "for you are all I have in the white world." "Do let me
go also," said Ivan, "for I long to wander over the white world and
seek my mother." The father did his best to persuade his boy to stay
with him, for he was now very lonely, but when he saw that Ivan could
no longer rest at home he yielded to his entreaties, saying to him,
"Well, there is no help for it; go, and may the God of Holy Russia
be good to you."
Ivan without delay saddled his good steed, entered the audience chamber
of his father, bowed to North, South, East, and West, and particularly
to the Great White Tsar, mounted his horse and rode on and ever onward
across the steppe, whether it was long or short. By and by he came
to a forest in the heart of which stood a lordly castle protected
from the keen winds by a ring of encircling pines. Ivan rode into the
broad courtyard, where he met an old man and greeted him kindly with
the words, "Many years and years of health to you." "Who are you,
goodly youth?" asked the old man, and Ivan said quietly and proudly,
"I am Ivan Tsarevich, son of the Great White Tsar and his Tsaritza,
Golden Tress." "Oh, my very, very own nephew," said the old man;
"and whither is God leading you?"
"I am in search of my mother, Golden Tress," said Ivan. "Can you tell
me, uncle, where she may be found?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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