Only she had vanished now, all but her head. And the brother cried out again: "Come into the feather-bed."
"In a minute, brother; I am taking off my shoes."
And the dolls went on cooing, and she vanished under the earth.
And the brother kept crying, and crying, and crying. And when she never returned, he became angry and ran out to fetch her. He could see nothing but the dolls, which kept singing. So he knocked off their heads and threw them into the stove.
The sister went farther under the earth, and she saw a little hut standing on cocks' feet and turning round. "Hut!" she cried out, "Stand as you should with your back to the wood."
So the hut stopped and the doors opened, and a fair maiden looked out. She was knitting a cloth with gold and silver thread. She greeted the guest friendlily and kindly, but sighed and said, "Oh, my darling, my sister! Oh, I am so glad to see you. I shall be so glad to look after you and to care for you as long as my mother is not here. But as soon as she flies in, woe to you and me, for she is a witch."
When she heard this the maiden was frightened, but could not fly anywhere. So she sat down and began helping the other maiden at her work. So they chattered along; and soon, at the right time before the mother came, the fair maiden turned her guest into a needle, stuck her into the besom and put it on one side. But scarcely had this been done, when Bába Yagá came in.
"Now, my fair daughter, my little child, tell me at once, why does the room smell so of Russian bones?"
"Mother, there have been strange men journeying past who wanted a drink of water."
"Why did you not keep them?"
