The Enchanted Ring.

Martin dared not gainsay his mother, so he took Jurka and Vaska with him and went into the neighbouring village to seek work. And there met him a rich farmer. “Whither art thou going?” said he. “I want to hire myself out as a day-labourer.”—“Come to me then. I take labourers without any contract, but if thou serve me well for a year thou shalt not lose by it.” Martin agreed, and for a whole year he worked for this farmer without ceasing. The time of payment came round. The farmer led Martin into the barn, showed him two full sacks, and said, “Take which thou wilt.” Martin looked; in one of the sacks was riches, in the other sand, and he thought to himself, “That’s not done without a reason; there’s some trickery here. I’ll take the sand; something will come of it no doubt.” So Martin put the sack of sand on his back, and went to seek another place. He went on and on, and strayed into a dark and dreary wood. In the midst of the wood was a field, and on the field a fire was burning, and in the fire a maiden was sitting; and it was such a lovely maiden that it was a delight to look at her. And the Beauty said to him, “Martin the widow’s son, if thou wishest to find happiness, save me. Extinguish this flame with the sand which thou hast gotten for thy faithful service.”—“Well, really,” thought Martin, “why should I go on dragging this load about on my shoulders? Far better to help a body with it.” So he undid his sack and emptied all the sand on the fire. The fire immediately went out, but the lovely damsel turned into a serpent, bounded on to the bosom of the good youth, wound itself round his neck, and said, “Fear me not, Martin the widow’s son. Go boldly into the land of Thrice-ten, into the underground realm where my dear father rules. Only mark this; he will offer thee lots of gold and silver and precious stones; thou, however, must take none of them, but beg him for the little ring off his little finger. That ring is no common ring; if thou move it from one hand to the other twelve young heroes will immediately appear, and whatever thou dost bid them do they will do it in a single night.”

Then the young man set out on his long, long journey, whether ’twere a long time or a short I know not, but at last he drew nigh to the kingdom of Thrice-ten, and came to a place where a huge stone lay across the way. Here the snake leaped from his neck, lit on the damp ground, and turned into the former lovely damsel. “Follow me,” said she to Martin, and showed him a little hole beneath the stone. For a long time they went through this underground way, and came into a wide plain beneath the open sky; and in this plain a castle was built entirely of porphyry, with a roof of golden fish-scales, with sharp-pointed golden pinnacles. “That’s where my father lives, the Tsar of this underground region,” said the lovely damsel to Martin.

The wanderers entered the castle, and the Tsar met them kindly and made them welcome. “My dear daughter,” said he to the lovely damsel, “I did not expect to see thee here. Where hast thou been knocking about all these years?”—“Dear father, and light of my eyes, I should have been lost altogether but for this good youth, who saved me from an unavoidable death!” The Tsar turned, looked with a friendly eye at Martin, and said to him, “I thank thee, good youth. I am ready to reward thee for thy good deeds with whatever thou desirest. Take of my gold and silver and precious stones as much as thy soul longs for.”—“I thank thee, Sovereign Tsar, for thy good words. But I want no precious stones, nor silver, nor gold; but if thou of thy royal grace and favour wouldst indeed reward me, then give me, I pray, the ring from the little finger of thy royal hand. Whenever I look upon that ring I’ll think of thee; but if ever I meet with a bride after mine own heart I will give it to her.” The Tsar immediately took off the ring, gave it to Martin, and said, “By all means, good youth, take the ring, and may it be to thy health! But mark this one thing: tell no one that this ring of thine is no common ring, or it will be to thy hurt and harm!”

The poor old woman went home more dead than alive. She staggered from side to side, and shed floods of scalding tears. When she saw Martin, she began screeching at him from afar. “Did not I tell thee, my son, to go and chop thine own wood? Now thou seest that our poor little heads are lost.” And she told her son all about it. “Cheer up, mother,” said little Martin, “pray to God and lie down to sleep, the morning is always wiser than the evening.” But he himself went out of the hut, took his little ring from one hand and put it on the other, and the twelve youths immediately appeared before him and said, “What dost thou require?” He told them of the royal task, and the twelve youths answered, “To-morrow, everything will be ready.”

The King awoke next morning, and lo! right in front of his palace towered another palace, and a crystal bridge led from one to the other. Along the sides of the bridge stood luxuriant apple trees, and upon them hung golden pippins, and birds of paradise were singing in the trees; and on the right hand of the bridge, blazing like fire in the sun, stood the cathedral with its golden pinnacles; and the bells of the cathedral were ringing and pealing in all directions. The King had to keep his word. He raised his son-in-law high in rank, gave him a rich inheritance with his daughter, and he took her to wife. Great was the wedding-feast. The wine flowed in streams, and they drank of mead and beer till they could drink no more.

So Martin lived in his palace, and he ate of the best and drank of the best, and his life went as smoothly as cheese with butter. But the Princess did not love him at heart, and when she reflected that they had not married her to the son of a tsar, or the son of a king, or even to a prince from across the sea, but to simple Martin the widow’s son, her wrath waxed hot within her. And she fell a-thinking by what means she might best rid herself of a husband she hated. So she took care to caress him, and flatter him, and waited upon him herself, and made him comfortable, and when they were quite alone she would ask him what it was that made him so wise and clever. And it happened one day that when he had been the King’s guest, and had drunk and made merry with all his lords one after another, and had returned home and laid him down to rest, that the Princess came to him and caressed him, and coaxed him with wheedling words, and made him drunk with strong mead, and in that way found out what she wanted to know, for Martin told her all about his enchanted ring, and showed her how to turn it. And no sooner was little Martin asleep and snoring, than the Princess took off the enchanted ring from his little finger, went forth into the broad courtyard, moved the ring from one finger to the other, and the twelve youths immediately appeared before her. “What is thy pleasure, and what is thy desire?”—“That to-morrow morning there may be neither palace, nor bridge, nor cathedral on this spot, but only a wretched little hut as heretofore, and cast this drunkard into it, but remove me far from him into the Empire of Thrice-ten.”—“It shall be done,” replied the twelve youths with one voice.

In the morning, when the King awoke, he felt inclined to go and pay a visit to his son-in-law and his daughter, so he went out upon the balcony, and lo! there was neither palace, nor bridge, nor cathedral, nor garden. In place of them stood a wretched old hut, leaning on one side, and scarce able to stand at all. The King sent for his son-in-law, and began asking him what it all meant; but little Martin could only stare blankly at him without uttering a word. And the King bade them sit in judgment on his son-in-law for deceiving him by magic, and destroying his daughter, the thrice-lovely Princess, and they condemned Martin to be put on the top of a lofty stone column with nothing to eat or drink; there he was to be left to die of hunger.

Then it was that Jurka and Vaska remembered how little Martin had saved them from an evil death, and they came and laid their heads together about it. Jurka growled and snarled, and was ready to tear every one to bits, for his master’s sake; but Vaska purred and hummed and scratched himself behind the ear with his velvet paw, and began to think the matter over. And the artful cat hit upon a plan, and said to Jurka, “Let us go for a walk about the town, and as soon as we meet a roll-baker with a tin on his head, you run between his legs and knock the tin off his head, and I’ll be close behind and immediately seize the rolls, and take them to master.” No sooner said than done. Jurka and the cat took a run into the town, and they met a roll-baker. He was carrying a tin on his head, and he looked about him on all sides and cried with a loud voice, “Hot rolls, hot rolls, fresh from the oven!” Jurka ran between his legs, the baker stumbled, the tin fell, and all the rolls were scattered about. But while the angry baker was chasing Jurka, Vaska hid all the rolls in the hedges. Then the cat and Jurka ran to the tower where Martin was placed, dragged with them the stores of bread, and Vaska scrambled up to the top, looked in at the little window, called to his master, and said, “Alive, eh?”—“Scarcely alive!” replied little Martin; “I am quite exhausted from want of food, and it will not be long before I die of hunger.”—“Don’t grieve; wait a bit, and we’ll feed you,” said Vaska, and he began to drag the food up from below—rolls and cakes, and all kinds of bread, till he had dragged up for his master a large store. Then he said, “Master, Jurka and I will go to the kingdom of Thrice-ten, and get you back your enchanted ring. Take care to make the bread last till we return.” Then they both took leave of their master, and departed on their long journey.

They ran on and on, and they smelt out the scent everywhere and followed it; paid great attention to what people told them; carefully made friends with all the other dogs and cats they met; asked about the Princess, and found out at last that they were not far from the kingdom of Thrice-ten, whither she had told the twelve youths to carry her. They ran into the kingdom, went to the palace, and made friends with all the dogs and cats there, asked them all about the Princess’s ways, and turned the conversation to the subject of the enchanted ring; but no one could give them certain information about it. But one day it happened that Vaska went a-hunting in the royal cellars. There he waylaid a big fat mouse, threw himself upon it, dug his cruel claws into it, and was going to begin with its head, when the big mouse spoke to him: “Dear little Vaska, don’t hurt me, don’t kill me. Perhaps I may be of service to you. I’ll do all I can for you. But if you kill me, the Mouse-Tsar, all my mousey tsardom will fall to pieces.”—“Very well,” said Vaska; “I’ll spare you; but this is the service you must do me. In this palace dwells the Princess, the wicked wife of our master; she has stolen from him his wonder-working ring; till you have got me that ring, I will not let you out of my claws under any pretence whatever.”—Agreed,” said the Mouse-Tsar, “I’ll try”; and he piped and whistled all his people together. A countless multitude of mice assembled, both small and great, and they sat all round the cat Vaska, and waited to hear what the Mouse-Tsar would say to them from beneath Vaska’s claws. And the Mouse-Tsar said to them: “Whichever of you shall get the wonder-working ring from the Princess, he will save me from a cruel death, and I will raise him to the highest place about my person.” Then a little mouse rose up and said: “I have often been in the Princess’s bed-chamber, and I’ve noticed that the Princess’s eye rests more often on a certain little ring than on anything else. In the daytime she wears it on her little finger, but at night she stuffs it into her mouth behind her cheeks. If you wait a bit, I’ll get you that ring.” And the little mouse ran into the Princess’s bed-chamber and waited till night, and as soon as ever the Princess was asleep, it wriggled into her bed, picked the down out of her swan-feathered bolster, and strewed it all about under her nose. The fine down went up the Princess’s nose and into her mouth, she sprang up and began to sneeze and cough, and spat out the enchanted ring on to the counterpane. The little mouse immediately snatched it up, and ran off with it to save the life of the Mouse-Tsar.