"If I get both my paws cut, I will not let him mow it."
Iván went into the swamp; the grass was not dense, but he found it hard to move the scythe. Iván grew angry and began to swing the scythe with all his might. The devil gave in; he had hardly time to get away,—he saw that matters were in bad shape, so he hid in a bush. Iván swung the scythe with all his might and struck the bush, and cut off half of the devil's tail. Iván finished the mowing, told the girl to rake it up, and himself went to cut the rye.
He went out with a round knife, but the bobtailed devil had been there before him and had so mixed up the rye that he could not cut it with the round knife. Iván went back, took the sickle, and began to cut it; he cut all the rye.
"Now I must go to the oats," he said.
The bobtailed devil heard it, and thought:
"I could not cope with him on the rye, but I will get the better of him in the oats,—just let the morning come."
The devil ran in the morning to the oats-field, but the oats were all cut down. Iván had cut them in the night, to keep them from dropping the seed.
The devil grew angry:
"The fool has cut me all up, and has worn me out. I have not seen such trouble even in war-time. The accursed one does not sleep,—I cannot keep up with him. I will go now to the ricks, and will rot them all."