Russian Magic Tales from Pushkin to Platonov (Penguin Classics) by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page B

Fair. Eat your supper, pray and have a good sleep. Mornings are wiser than evenings.’
    Vasilisa woke early, but the baba yaga had already risen. Vasilisa looked outside: the light in the skulls’ eyes was already fading. The white horseman swept by and day began to dawn. The baba yaga went out into the yard. She whistled – and there were her pestle, mortar and broom. The red horseman flashedby – and the sun rose. The baba yaga sat in her mortar and rode off, spurring it on with her pestle and sweeping away her tracks with her broom. Vasilisa was left on her own. She went slowly round the baba yaga’s hut. Never in her life had she seen such abundance. Then she stopped, wondering where to begin with her work. She looked around – and realized there was nothing left to do. The doll was standing by the corn bin, picking out the last grain of chaff from the wheat. ‘My saviour!’ said Vasilisa. ‘You’ve delivered me from death.’ ‘All you have to do now is prepare the supper,’ said the doll as she climbed back into Vasilisa’s pocket. ‘Cook it with God’s help – and then you can have a good rest.’
    Towards evening Vasilisa put everything ready on the table and sat down to wait for the baba yaga. It began to get darker. The black horseman flashed past the gate – and it was night. The only light was from the skulls on the fence. The trees creaked and cracked, the dead leaves crackled and crunched, and there was the baba yaga. Vasilisa went out to meet her. ‘Is everything ready?’ asked the baba yaga. ‘See for yourself, grandmother,’ said Vasilisa. The baba yaga looked round the hut. She could see there was nothing for her to get cross about – and this made her crosser than ever. ‘Very good,’ she said, and then called out, ‘My friends, my faithful servants, grind my wheat.’ Three pairs of hands appeared. They took the wheat and carried it out of sight. The baba yaga ate her fill, lay down in her bed and said to Vasilisa, ‘Tomorrow you must do the same as today. But then you must go to the storeroom and sort through the poppy seeds. I want them perfectly clean. Someone threw dirt in the bin to spite me.’ The old woman turned towards the wall and began to snore. Vasilisa fed her doll. The doll ate her supper and said, ‘Pray to God and then go to sleep. Mornings are wiser than evenings. Everything will be done, my dear Vasilisa!’
    In the morning the baba yaga rode off again in her mortar. Vasilisa and the doll finished the housework in no time at all. The old woman came back in the evening, had a good look round and called out, ‘My friends, my faithful servants, press the oil from these poppy seeds.’ Three pairs of hands appeared.They took the poppy seeds and carried them out of sight. The baba yaga sat down to eat. Vasilisa stood there without saying a word. ‘Why don’t you say anything?’ asked the baba yaga. ‘Anyone would think you were mute.’ ‘I didn’t dare,’ answered Vasilisa. ‘But if you’ll allow me, there are a few things I’d like to ask about.’ ‘Ask away!’ said the baba yaga. ‘But take care. Not every question has a good answer. The more you know, the sooner you grow old.’ ‘Grandmother, I only want to ask about what I saw on the way here. First a man rode past on a white horse. He had a white face and he was dressed all in white. Who was he?’ ‘That was my Bright Day,’ answered the baba yaga. ‘Then I was overtaken by a man on a red horse. He had a red face and he was dressed all in red. Who was he?’ ‘That was my Red Sun,’ answered the baba yaga. ‘And then who was the black horseman who came past while I was standing outside your gate?’ ‘That was my Black Night. The three of them are my faithful servants.’
    Vasilisa remembered the three pairs of hands and kept her mouth shut. ‘Don’t you want to ask about anything else?’ asked the baba yaga. ‘No, grandmother, that’s enough. You said yourself that the more one