The Winged Horse
Momtchilo was usually cautious, but this time he fell into the trap. “Vidossava, my dear consort,” said he, tenderly, “if that be all thy trouble I will easily console thee. Thou shalt see the wings of my steed Tchile:[5] when the first cocks crow go down to the new stables, Tchile will then unfold his wings, as thou wilt see.”
Saying this, he composed himself once more to slumber. But not so Vidossava. She watched to hear the first rooster’s crow, and at the sound she sprang to her feet, lit a lantern and a candle, took some fat of mutton and some tar, and hurried to the stables. And behold! she saw Yaboutchilo unfold a pair of wings which reached down to his hoofs. Vidossava anointed the pinions with the fat and tar and set fire to them with the flame of her candle. What did not burn she bound tightly under the belt of the steed. This done, she, the youthful one, went to the armoury and dipped Momtchilo’s favourite sword into salted blood. Then she returned to her consort’s chamber.