When evening came he led the mare out of the stable and mounted her,
and the colt ran behind. He managed to keep his seat for a long time,
in spite of all her efforts to throw him, but at length he grew so weary
that he fell fast asleep, and when he woke he found himself sitting on a
log, with the halter in his hands. He jumped up in terror, but the mare
was nowhere to be seen, and he started with a beating heart in search of
her. He had gone some way without a single trace to guide him, when he
came to a little river. The sight of the water brought back to his mind
the fish whom he had saved from death, and he hastily drew the scale
from his pocket. It had hardly touched his fingers when the fish
appeared in the stream beside him.
‘What is it, my brother?’ asked the fish anxiously.
‘The old woman’s mare strayed last night, and I don’t know where to look
for her.’
‘Oh, I can tell you that: she has changed herself into a big fish, and
her foal into a little one. But strike the water with the halter and
say, “Come here, O mare of the mountain witch!” and she will come.’
The prince did as he was bid, and the mare and her foal stood before
him. Then he put the halter round her neck, and rode her home, the foal
always trotting behind them. The old woman was at the door to receive
them, and gave the prince some food while she led the mare back to the
stable.
‘You should have gone among the fishes,’ cried the old woman, striking
the animal with a stick.
‘I did go among the fishes,’ replied the mare; ‘but they are no friends
of mine, for they betrayed me at once.’
‘Well, go among the foxes this time,’ said she, and returned to the
house, not knowing that the prince had overheard her.
So when it began to grow dark the prince mounted the mare for the second
time and rode into the meadows, and the foal trotted behind its mother.
Again he managed to stick on till midnight: then a sleep overtook him
that he could not battle against, and when he woke up he found himself,
as before, sitting on the log, with the halter in his hands. He gave a
shriek of dismay, and sprang up in search of the wanderers. As he went
he suddenly remembered the words that the old woman had said to the
mare, and he drew out the fox hair and twisted it in his fingers.
‘What is it, my brother?’ asked the fox, who instantly appeared before
him.
‘The old witch’s mare has run away from me, and I do not know where to
look for her.’
‘She is with us,’ replied the fox, ‘and has changed herself into a big
fox, and her foal into a little one, but strike the ground with a halter
and say, “Come here, O mare of the mountain witch!”’
The prince did so, and in a moment the fox became a mare and stood
before him, with the little foal at her heels. He mounted and rode back,
and the old woman placed food on the table, and led the mare back to the
stable.
‘You should have gone to the foxes, as I told you,’ said she, striking
the mare with a stick.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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