And the devil went to the rye-rick, climbed between the sheaves, and began to rot them: he warmed them up, and himself grew warm and fell asleep.
Iván hitched his mare, and went with the girl to haul away the ricks. He drove up to one and began to throw the sheaves into the cart. He had just put two sheaves in when he stuck his fork straight into the devil's back; he raised it, and, behold, on the prongs was a live devil, and a bobtailed one at that, and he was writhing and twisting, and trying to get off.
"I declare," he said, "it is a nasty thing! Are you here again?"
"I am a different devil," he said. "My brother was here before. I was with your brother Semén."
"I do not care who you are," he replied, "you will catch it, too."
He wanted to strike him against the ground, but the devil began to beg him:
"Let me go, and I will not do it again, and I will do for you anything you please."
"What can you do?"
"I can make soldiers for you from anything."