I offer you the transliteration, more than translation, of another Ukrainian folk story recorded in the book "З живого джерела". I have taken the artistic liberty of changing some elements of the story and elaborating on some others.
Once upon a time, a wealthy man travelled to a distant realm to trade. But water was scarcer than precious stones in that kingdom, so the merchant turned thirsty as death. Desperate, he went to the Tsar, who surely must have water. How could he not? For he was not only lord of all that land, but also a Dragon and a skilled sorcerer.
"Sir. If you give me that which you have at home, I shall let you drink the water of my well," said the Tsar, smirking.
"Except my wife, I will part with anything," replied the man and signed the vow. But he did not know that soon after he set out, his wife bore him a son, and one such that words can't describe! Swift as grass he grew and strong as an oak. When the merchant returned home, a boy ran to embrace him, saying: "I am your son, Ivan."
Hearing this, the man first rejoiced but, remembering the vow, started weeping.
"Why do you cry, papa?" asked the boy.
"Never you mind."
Time passed and the boy quickly became a young man. One day, as father and son were building a cattle shed by the river, Ivan spotted a scrap of paper hidden in the dam. Unfolding the paper he discovered the vow made between the merchant and the Tzar.
"Papa, why did you not tell me that I'm given to the Tsar? Prepare me for the journey, for I will go to the Tzar."
The father and the mother dressed their son in his dearest clothes and their direst tears - as many as they could muster - their liquid sorrow could quench his thirst in that desert land.
When Ivan reached the Dragon's palace, he was greeted by the lord himself and his three daughters. The youngest one loved him at once.
"Ivan," the Dragon spoke. "This night my river must be dammed and my field ploughed, the wheat sown, grown, ripened and reaped, threshed and winnowed, the grain milled and a bun baked for breakfast."
The boy walked away heavy-hearted, but on the way to his quarters encountered the Dragon's daughter again.
"Do not despair, Ivan, all will be well!" she said to him. "Go and rest until the morrow."
As great a mage her father was, his power was still shadowed by hers. When darkness fell, she whistled, and before her loomed two wispy servants. She whistled again and they flew to the field in a flurry. When Ivan woke in the morning, a hot bun lay ready on the table. This he took to the Dragon, who ground his teeth in rage, for he had failed to abase Ivan. Curbing his fury, he spoke:
"Ivan. This night my best horse must be tamed; it stands in my stables, behind twelve doors."
Ivan was a good horseman, and eagerly made for the stables, but his way was barred by the Dragon's daughter, who warned him:
"Ivan, don't be fooled. This task is harder yet than the last! The horse within is Father, and as soon as you approach him, he will trample you to death." Then she thought, and added, "It's too late, I will help you. Go and rest until the morrow."
As soon as all lay to sleep, she whistled and her airy servants appeared. She whistled once more and they soared into the stables, squeezing through the twelve gates and they grasped the horse's mane and rode upon it through the night until it was winded and so wetted with sweat that it seemed it had been drenched in water. The wild horse galloped and galloped, but eventually stood still. The servants took the fatigued horse back to the stables and vanished.
In the morning the Dragon called Ivan and spoke to him, the cold sweat on his brow barely concealing his choler:
"This eve you must come to me!"
As soon as Ivan left the court, the Dragon's daughter appeared to him and urged him:
"Ivan, if you go see Father, he will strangle you! You and I must flee."
Quickly they gathered their things and left the palace.
They walked and walked when suddenly they heard a rumble. The Dragon's daughter pressed her ear to the ground and whispered:
"They are pursuing us. We must hide."
She took a blade of dry grass and ripped it in twain, and at once she became a field of wheat and Ivan its watchman. Soon arrived a horseback host, the Dragon's servants, who asked Ivan the watchman:
"Did you not see a boy and a girl running past?"
"I did see them run past when this field was sown."
Discouraged, the servants returned to the palace, where the Dragon enquired:
"So, did you overtake them?"
"No, we did not."
"Did you not see anyone?"
"No, only a guard keeping ward over a field of wheat."
"That was them! Had you but torn the smallest kernel of wheat, you would have grasped her very head. Go forth once more, and catch them this time!"
Soon again they were on the heels of Ivan and the girl. Hearing their hoofs hitting the ground, she took a pebble from the road's side and broke it in half, whereupon she became a church and Ivan a priest upon the porch. The horsemen, having reached the church, asked the priest:
"Did you not see a boy and a girl running past?"
"I did see them run past when this church was built."
The irresolute riders returned to the palace, where the Dragon scolded them once more:
"It was them once more! Had you but clutched the knocker, you would have held her very neck." With this, he rose from his throne, climbed to his highest tower and called to his servants, "fetch me my pitchforks!"
He propped each of his eyelids with A fork and, as he watched the horizon he caught a glimpse of his daughter and Ivan. He spread his wings and dashed after them. Hearing the whistling of the wings, the daughter gasped:
"We are lost, Father is after us! But there's still one chance. Do not let him drink of me."
She then took a tear from her eye and tore it in two, turning herself into a well, and Ivan into a Cossack, a sabre at his waist. Soon, the Dragon reached the well and asked the Cossack if ever he saw run past a girl and a boy.
"Never did I see" replied Ivan.
But the Dragon glanced in his eye and realised the truth at once, so he said to the Cossack:
"Let me satiate my thirst!"
"You may not. From this well only the Ataman1 may drink."
But the Dragon did not take heed, and instead stooped over the well. As he took the bucket to his mouth, Ivan, in one swift stroke severed his head. The well turned back into a girl, and the Cossack into a boy, who together walked back home and idled in wedding feasts.
1 Cossack chief.
