He took the pitcher and began to drink. He thought it was water, but, behold, it was milk. He drank the milk, and said:
"It is good!"
Dina was very happy.
"Good, Iván, good!" and she jumped up, clapped her hands, took away the pitcher, and ran off.
From that time she brought him milk every day on the sly. The Tartars make cheese-cakes from goat milk, and dry them on the roofs,—and so she brought him those cakes also. One day the master killed a sheep, so she brought him a piece of mutton in her sleeve. She would throw it down and run away.
One day there was a severe storm, and for an hour the rain fell as though from a pail. All the streams became turbid. Where there was a ford, the water was now eight feet deep, and stones were borne down. Torrents were running everywhere, and there was a roar in the mountains. When the storm was over, streams were coming down the village in every direction. Zhilín asked his master to let him have a penknife, and with it he cut out a small axle and little boards, and made a wheel, and to each end of the wheel he attached a doll.
The girls brought him pieces of material, and he dressed the dolls: one a man, the other a woman. He fixed them firmly, and placed the wheel over a brook. The wheel began to turn, and the dolls to jump.
The whole village gathered around it; boys, girls, women, and men came, and they clicked with their tongues:
"Ai, Uruss! Ai, Iván!"