This is the artistic translation of an archetypal Ukrainian folk story written in the book "З живого джерела" edited by Упоряд. Л. Дунаєвська, and illustrated by Олександра Міхнушова. The black humoured ending of this tale is, again, typically Eastern...
Once there was, or perhaps not, a place beyond dark forests and deep seas; seventy seven kingdoms away and further yet - by ten sparrow steps and twenty flea jumps. There lived one man, who had as many children as holes in a sieve and one more.
The man grieved, thinking what to do with his babes, since he was poorer than a church mouse. Looking at the children, his heart tore: pale, hungry and so weak that the wind toppled them. Long he thought how to remedy his plight , but was incapable of inventing anything. When his wife still lived, they had somehow managed from day to day, but when she died, all troubles tumbled upon his poor shoulders. He turned and twisted his mind this way and that, but the more he tried, the worse it all seemed.
"I can’t endure this any longer," he told himself. "I will go to the world, and find fortune, for if I stay sat still, we shall all perish.”
Having fed his children with whatever was left, he threw an axe upon his shoulder and went into the wide world. He went, walked and wandered until he got lost in a deep forest. Night caught him unawares: so dark it was that an axe could cleave it. Though he was nigh too weak to walk, he was too fearful to rest, lest a wild beast tore him apart; so he marched on.
Suddenly, something shone in the distance. The man darted after the light, which poured out of a small hut amid the forest. He looked into the window and saw a lit lamp and a burning blaze in the oven, sparks wildly flying, as if some invisible force were clawing the flames.
"It would be good to warm and dry myself by the fire," the man thought; for rain poured on his soaked clothes and thunder began drumming so furiously that the man’s soul nearly leaped out of his body. "Whatever happens, I must enter this hut. Surely, they won’t kill me, and if they start hitting me, I have my axe!"
He knocked once and again: nobody, nothing.
He pressed the door open and crossed the threshold, welcomed by warmth and a pleasant smell. But the home was empty, for wherever he walked, wherever he scoured, not a live soul was to be found.
He dried his clothes by the fire and sat on a bench to warm himself. His belly grumbled to the ever-present smell, and glancing on the table he saw all sorts of food and drink: baked meat, Borscht, chicken, scones and Kvass – everything one could wish for!
He jumped onto the table and started gorging himself, one plate after another, sipping as he chewed right until he was more than stuffed. Then he filled a pipe, fired it up and smoked it like a chimney.
Suddenly he noticed a shaggy black cat staring at him, eyes wide. As he was about to shoo her off, she disappeared.
"I did not see her appear, nor disappear," thought the man. "On my soul, I must have stumbled upon a demoniacal hut."
"Indeed you have…" a voice answered.
The poor man glanced towards the voice and saw a hag whose mere sight sufficed to incite horror: as many wrinkles as ruffles in a Gypsy skirt, and a nose so long and curved that when she bowed her head, it touched the ground. This nose was pure iron, ringing like a bell whenever it hit something.
"So, man, you’ve stumbled upon the Devil’s hut. I’m his mother. Soon my son will come from Hell and take you in hand. And if I tell him you’ve eaten his lunch, wretched you shall be!" To these words the man felt frost course right through his spine and his teeth chatter . "There’s no helping here, you’re lost forever! In Hell, demons will pierce you with pitchforks, give you smouldering tar to drink and bathe you in sulphur every day. A real treat, eh?"
"Mercy!" the poor man begged. "Dearie, help me. I’ve a heap of children, what will be with them? They will all die without a father, without a mother!"
"Go to Hell! That is your place. I could have helped you, yet will not!" she mumbled.
"Darling, help me! I’ll do whatever you like, just don’t let your son take me to Hell!"
"Oh well. I’ll help you so long as you follow my orders. It’s not a hard task"
"I’ll do anything!"
"Then I’ll save you from Hell, and make you rich and happy... if you take me as your wife." When the man heard this, his knees nearly gave way. Lord! To wed to this sabre-nosed hag! What would people say if they saw the witch he brought home?
"So, my lad!" she went on. "You’re poor and you’ve children, but no wife. Take me and you’ll see how well I will treat you and your children. I will bathe them in butter and milk, and beat their backs with a stick. Agreed?"
"Good, I will take you as my wife, but save me from Hell!"
"That’s a deal! And now we have to set out for your home, so we can be there by the morning."
And all at once she ran out like a young lass. Minutes later she returned with a donkey and some sacks. She then led the man to an underground store filled with golden and silver coins, precious stones of every colour, expensive clothes, food and drink. Everything one could desire lay there.
"Dear husband, this is yours and mine," said the hag. "Pack everything that will fit and we will take it to your house."
They put the bags on a wagon that stood ready by the hut. After the man yoked the donkey, they set out on the path and rode the night entire, nodding on the wagon. When it cleared, they had already reached the border of the forest.
"Don’t hurry, husband. Let’s rest here on the green grass."
The man stopped the donkey, they stepped off the wagon, opened the bags and started feasting.
"Eat, my dear, eat!" the hag insisted, choosing the tastiest bits for him. But she also stuffed herself, drank an entire boot of liquor and another yet, soon rolling into a drunken stupor.
The man needed nothing more. He spat on his palms, took his axe and hit the hag’s iron nose so hard it split in twain. The hag screamed, then curled up like a cat on a lap, convulsed once or twice and died. But the sound of the broken nose resonated throughout the forest and reached Hell.
"Ho-ho!" shouted the Devil as he jumped out of Hell. "Someone has broken my mother’s nose! After him!"
Meanwhile, the man spared not one instant, but sprang on the wagon and started flogging the donkey. The poor animal did not know what the matter was, but galloped so wholeheartedly that the wagon was thrown from one side of the road to the other. They were not far from the village when the Devil left the forest and found his mother coiled beside her broken nose. Looking round he saw the wagon and after it he ran! He caught up with the man at the very moment he was turning into his yard.
"Thief, murderer;" shouted the Devil, “your days are counted!"
"Let me go!" snapped back the man. "Here I’m master!"
But the Devil pulled at the man, who stubbornly clung to a pole. Hearing his shrieks, out of the house ran the children: clothes torn, shabby and covered in dirt.
"Oi, oi!" they shouted. "Dad has brought us the Devil! Let us skin him and make moccasins out of his skin!"
"And we’ll have meat to eat!"
"And from his horns we’ll make flutes to play on!"
The Devil, scared stiff, started asking the man: "Leave me be and I won’t harm you ever again."
But the man, seizing the devil's fur, replied:
"I won’t let you go, lest my children go hungry"
Hearing this, the Devil darted and managed to escape, only turning his eyes back when he reached the forest. He clutched his mother and jumped back into Hell. From that day on the man was so rich that he had no equal in the entire province.
The man grieved, thinking what to do with his babes, since he was poorer than a church mouse. Looking at the children, his heart tore: pale, hungry and so weak that the wind toppled them. Long he thought how to remedy his plight , but was incapable of inventing anything. When his wife still lived, they had somehow managed from day to day, but when she died, all troubles tumbled upon his poor shoulders. He turned and twisted his mind this way and that, but the more he tried, the worse it all seemed.
"I can’t endure this any longer," he told himself. "I will go to the world, and find fortune, for if I stay sat still, we shall all perish.”
Having fed his children with whatever was left, he threw an axe upon his shoulder and went into the wide world. He went, walked and wandered until he got lost in a deep forest. Night caught him unawares: so dark it was that an axe could cleave it. Though he was nigh too weak to walk, he was too fearful to rest, lest a wild beast tore him apart; so he marched on.
Suddenly, something shone in the distance. The man darted after the light, which poured out of a small hut amid the forest. He looked into the window and saw a lit lamp and a burning blaze in the oven, sparks wildly flying, as if some invisible force were clawing the flames.
"It would be good to warm and dry myself by the fire," the man thought; for rain poured on his soaked clothes and thunder began drumming so furiously that the man’s soul nearly leaped out of his body. "Whatever happens, I must enter this hut. Surely, they won’t kill me, and if they start hitting me, I have my axe!"
He knocked once and again: nobody, nothing.
He pressed the door open and crossed the threshold, welcomed by warmth and a pleasant smell. But the home was empty, for wherever he walked, wherever he scoured, not a live soul was to be found.
He dried his clothes by the fire and sat on a bench to warm himself. His belly grumbled to the ever-present smell, and glancing on the table he saw all sorts of food and drink: baked meat, Borscht, chicken, scones and Kvass – everything one could wish for!
He jumped onto the table and started gorging himself, one plate after another, sipping as he chewed right until he was more than stuffed. Then he filled a pipe, fired it up and smoked it like a chimney.
Suddenly he noticed a shaggy black cat staring at him, eyes wide. As he was about to shoo her off, she disappeared.
"I did not see her appear, nor disappear," thought the man. "On my soul, I must have stumbled upon a demoniacal hut."
"Indeed you have…" a voice answered.
The poor man glanced towards the voice and saw a hag whose mere sight sufficed to incite horror: as many wrinkles as ruffles in a Gypsy skirt, and a nose so long and curved that when she bowed her head, it touched the ground. This nose was pure iron, ringing like a bell whenever it hit something.
"So, man, you’ve stumbled upon the Devil’s hut. I’m his mother. Soon my son will come from Hell and take you in hand. And if I tell him you’ve eaten his lunch, wretched you shall be!" To these words the man felt frost course right through his spine and his teeth chatter . "There’s no helping here, you’re lost forever! In Hell, demons will pierce you with pitchforks, give you smouldering tar to drink and bathe you in sulphur every day. A real treat, eh?"
"Mercy!" the poor man begged. "Dearie, help me. I’ve a heap of children, what will be with them? They will all die without a father, without a mother!"
"Go to Hell! That is your place. I could have helped you, yet will not!" she mumbled.
"Darling, help me! I’ll do whatever you like, just don’t let your son take me to Hell!"
"Oh well. I’ll help you so long as you follow my orders. It’s not a hard task"
"I’ll do anything!"
"Then I’ll save you from Hell, and make you rich and happy... if you take me as your wife." When the man heard this, his knees nearly gave way. Lord! To wed to this sabre-nosed hag! What would people say if they saw the witch he brought home?
"So, my lad!" she went on. "You’re poor and you’ve children, but no wife. Take me and you’ll see how well I will treat you and your children. I will bathe them in butter and milk, and beat their backs with a stick. Agreed?"
"Good, I will take you as my wife, but save me from Hell!"
"That’s a deal! And now we have to set out for your home, so we can be there by the morning."
And all at once she ran out like a young lass. Minutes later she returned with a donkey and some sacks. She then led the man to an underground store filled with golden and silver coins, precious stones of every colour, expensive clothes, food and drink. Everything one could desire lay there.
"Dear husband, this is yours and mine," said the hag. "Pack everything that will fit and we will take it to your house."
They put the bags on a wagon that stood ready by the hut. After the man yoked the donkey, they set out on the path and rode the night entire, nodding on the wagon. When it cleared, they had already reached the border of the forest.
"Don’t hurry, husband. Let’s rest here on the green grass."
The man stopped the donkey, they stepped off the wagon, opened the bags and started feasting.
"Eat, my dear, eat!" the hag insisted, choosing the tastiest bits for him. But she also stuffed herself, drank an entire boot of liquor and another yet, soon rolling into a drunken stupor.
The man needed nothing more. He spat on his palms, took his axe and hit the hag’s iron nose so hard it split in twain. The hag screamed, then curled up like a cat on a lap, convulsed once or twice and died. But the sound of the broken nose resonated throughout the forest and reached Hell.
"Ho-ho!" shouted the Devil as he jumped out of Hell. "Someone has broken my mother’s nose! After him!"
Meanwhile, the man spared not one instant, but sprang on the wagon and started flogging the donkey. The poor animal did not know what the matter was, but galloped so wholeheartedly that the wagon was thrown from one side of the road to the other. They were not far from the village when the Devil left the forest and found his mother coiled beside her broken nose. Looking round he saw the wagon and after it he ran! He caught up with the man at the very moment he was turning into his yard.
"Thief, murderer;" shouted the Devil, “your days are counted!"
"Let me go!" snapped back the man. "Here I’m master!"
But the Devil pulled at the man, who stubbornly clung to a pole. Hearing his shrieks, out of the house ran the children: clothes torn, shabby and covered in dirt.
"Oi, oi!" they shouted. "Dad has brought us the Devil! Let us skin him and make moccasins out of his skin!"
"And we’ll have meat to eat!"
"And from his horns we’ll make flutes to play on!"
The Devil, scared stiff, started asking the man: "Leave me be and I won’t harm you ever again."
But the man, seizing the devil's fur, replied:
"I won’t let you go, lest my children go hungry"
Hearing this, the Devil darted and managed to escape, only turning his eyes back when he reached the forest. He clutched his mother and jumped back into Hell. From that day on the man was so rich that he had no equal in the entire province.
