Tales and Legends from the Land of the Tzar/The Witch and the Sister of the Sun
THE WITCH AND THE SISTER OF THE SUN.
In a distant kingdom, near the World's End, lived a king and queen who had an only son, named Prince Nekita. When this prince had arrived at the age of fourteen, he went to "look up" a favourite groom of his. Now this groom had been in the habit of always telling Prince Nekita (when quite a child) some very pretty fairy tales, which the young prince had greatly enjoyed, but since the prince had come into his "teens," he had had other things to do, and had not had time to listen to these stories; but on this particular day it so happened that he had a half-holiday, and thought it would be rather a good idea to go and spend it in the stables. Away he went, and this is what the groom had to say:—
"I have something far more important than a fairy tale to tell you to-day, Prince Nekita," said the groom gravely, "and am right glad that you have come to me, for you are in great danger. Listen—the queen, your mother, will soon have a daughter, but by no means a good one; the child will grow into a dreadful old witch, and will kill your father and mother and all the grand people at court, and if you stay in the palace, she will kill you, too; so if you wish to save your life and become a great man, you must go to the king, your father, and tell him what you have just heard—but you need not mention my name—and ask him for a certain horse, which runs faster than any bird can fly; get upon this horse and go whithersoever your eyes take you. That is all I have to say, so go at once to the king and lose not a moment. Farewell!"
After that the wonderful groom disappeared, and no one ever saw him again.
Meanwhile Prince Nekita went to the king, his father, and told him everything, not forgetting to ask for the flying horse. The king was delighted at the idea of having a daughter, but could not believe that she could turn out to be a wicked old witch; he ordered the flying horse to be brought and given to the prince, wished his handsome young son luck, and left him to mount the splendid animal, but forgot to ask whither he intended going.
The prince mounted his horse, bid all the courtiers and servants farewell, and away he flew.
Long, long, did he ride, until it suddenly struck him that he could not possibly go on riding for ever, besides he was hungry and sleepy. What was he to do? Suddenly he came upon a little hut, at the door of which sat two old women, busy embroidering. He stopped his horse and asked them whether they would let him stay with them for a day or two to rest, but they shook their old heads, saying,—
"Nay, prince, though we should be very glad indeed to let you stay with us and rest for awhile, we cannot possibly ask you in, for we have unfortunately not very long to live. Death is already knocking at our door. But that you should not think us unkind, take this little box of needles and remember us. It may prove useful to you, for the needles are not of the common kind."
Prince Nekita took the little box, thanked the old women, and wept bitterly as he rode away, for besides feeling hungry and tired, he was very sorry for these two poor creatures. On rode the prince for a long time without meeting any one whom he could ask for something to eat, and without seeing any place where he could rest himself and his horse. At last he saw an old oak-tree; he went up to it, and asked it to shelter him for a few days; but the tree shook its branches, and replied,—
"Nay, Prince Nekita, I cannot shelter you, much as I should like to do so, for I have not long to live; death is knocking at my door!"
Prince Nekita again wept; it seemed to him that no one and nothing were to live very long.
On he rode, till at length he came to the noble dwelling of the Sister of the Sun. He stopped before the golden palace, and knocked at the door. The Sun's sister ran out to him and welcomed him warmly. She took him into her palace and gave him most delicious things to eat and drink, so that Prince Nekita felt himself in the seventh heaven of bliss, and in no hurry to leave. In fact, when the beautiful Sister of the Sun asked him to stay in her palace and make it his home, he did not think twice about it, but gratefully accepted her kind invitation; and as the years rolled on, the Sister of the Sun loved him as dearly as if he had been her own child. She took great care of him, fed him, and clothed him in rich garments, and made a regular pet of the young prince.
But one day, after the lapse of a great many years, the prince, who had now grown into a tall handsome man, with golden hair, and a long drooping moustache, wished very much to see how things were getting on in his father's kingdom, so he got on to his flying horse and flew to the top of a great mountain, where he could see everything that was going on at home. He looked, and behold! everybody had been eaten up; there was not a soul alive, all the houses, shops, and streets were one mass of ruin. Even the very palace, in which he had spent his childhood, was torn down with the exception of one wing, in which dwelt his sister, the witch, by herself. He looked and wept, a thing which he had not indulged in for many a long year. He returned with a sad face and tearful eyes, to the Sister of the Sun, who felt very sorry and anxious about him, and wondered greatly what had happened.
"What is the matter?" she asked "I don't like to see you look so sad."
"The wind was a little too much for my eyes, madam, that is all," he replied.
But the Sister of the Sun did not believe him, and as he continued going up the mountain every day, and returning with a tearful face, she wondered more and more what the reason could be; but she could get nothing out of him, all he answered was that the wind had been too much for his eyes. At last the Sister of the Sun could stand it no longer, she was determined to find out the cause and help him if she could. So she commanded what little wind there was to stop, and when the prince returned from his journey up the mountain with a tearful face, he did not know how to answer her inquiries, and was at last obliged to tell the truth. The Sister of the Sun was very sorry and tried to comfort him, but all in vain, he felt too wretched, and would do nothing but go to the mountain and weep for the loss of his friends and his country. One day he came to the Sister of the Sun and told her that he intended to visit his father's kingdom and see what had been done to it. At first the Sister of the Sun would not hear of it, but on seeing that the prince looked greatly disappointed, she consented, and gave him a comb, two apples, and a blessing as parting gifts.
"Take this comb and these apples, for they are useful things to have; when you throw the comb on the ground an oak forest will spring up; as to the apples, if you give them to some very, very old people they will instantly become young, and my blessing will keep you from harm. Good-bye, dear prince, and come back to me soon."
Prince Nekita, after embracing her, rode off on his flying horse. He soon came to the old oak-tree, and found it nearly dead, with the exception of a few branches; he felt sorry for the old tree, and remembering the comb he threw it down on the ground and up sprang a large and beautiful oak forest. The tree was delighted, it thanked the prince for his kindness, and promised to help him if it could. Away went the prince until he reached the hut where he had found the two old women, who were now lying on their death-beds. He gave them each an apple, which they ate and became quite young and well again. They almost embraced the prince in their joy, and gave him a handkerchief which would turn into a large lake when thrown down on the ground. At last Prince Nekita arrived at his skeleton home, and the witch, his sister, came out to meet him, smiling, and after kissing him most affectionately, led him into a chamber in the remaining wing of the palace.
"Sit down, dear brother," she said, "and amuse yourself just as much as you like, while I go and get the dinner ready; for I have no servants here, I hate to have them about me."
So saying, the witch disappeared, while Prince Nekita went to the window and looked out. How changed everything was, and how horrid all looked; the streets were covered with dead bodies, and human bones, skulls, and ruined houses lay all over the place in hopeless confusion. The poor prince shuddered, and turned his back on the window, when suddenly his eyes fell upon a harp standing in the corner of the room. He went up to it, threw off his cloak, and began playing a Russian air, when out came a little mouse from under the floor, and said in a human voice,—
"Save yourself, Prince Nekita, fly for your life! Your sister has just gone to sharpen her teeth, and unless you wish to be eaten up, you had better leave this wretched place."
Prince Nekita did not wait to be told a second time; he mounted his horse and flew, while the mouse taking the prince's place by the harp, played away at it, so that the witch might not know that the prince had left. After having sharpened her teeth the witch returned, but could see no one; even the mouse had run away into its little hole on hearing the witch approach, and was now running up and down there just as if nothing had happened. The witch was in a great rage, she howled and growled until she came to the conclusion that she had better go after her brother, so off she went in her mortar. The prince on hearing a noise behind him, looked round and saw the witch coming after him; on he rode faster and faster, and she came closer and closer to him. At last Prince Nekita, on seeing his danger, threw down the handkerchief, and there appeared a very large lake.
While the witch was crossing this lake, the prince managed to get at a good distance off, and for some time did not see her, but after awhile he looked round and beheld her coming nearer and nearer. He was now not very far from the oak forest, which, when it saw that the prince was in danger, spread out its branches so thickly that the witch lost some time in biting her way through, while the prince neared the dwelling of the Sister of the Sun. But the witch after having got through the forest, began her pursuit once more.
"Ah!" she cried, as she came close behind the prince, "I shall catch you, you have no means of saving yourself now."
But she was mistaken, for after flying on and on as fast as ever he could. Prince Nekita at last reached the dwelling of the Sister of the Sun; he rode in and the big golden gates were closed after him. Meanwhile, the witch began thinking what she had better do to get at him. She knocked at the gates, and the Sister of the Sun, in all her dazzling beauty, came out to her.
"Let me have a pair of scales, great Sister of the Sun," said the witch, "and see who is heavier, my brother or I; if I am heavier I will eat him; if he is heavier, he can eat me, or do whatever he likes with me!"
The Sister of the Sun laughed at this; but, nevertheless, she agreed to the proposal, for she knew what would happen. The prince jumped on to the scales first, but hardly had the witch put her foot upon the scales, when up went the prince high in the air, and would certainly have fallen had the Sun not caught him in his arms, and taken him to his glorious home in the sky, where, to the prince's delight, the Sister of the Sun soon joined them, leaving the witch to stamp about in a tremendous rage at not having been able to eat her brother; and I believe she is still alive, reigning near the World's End, unless some brave knight has been able to kill her.