The devil went forth to find Iván. But Iván was through with the field, and was chopping wood in the forest.
The brothers were not comfortable living together, and they had ordered the fool to cut timber with which to build them new huts.
The devil ran to the woods, climbed into the branches, and did not let Iván fell the trees. Iván chopped the tree in the right way, so that it might fall in a clear place; he tried to make it fall, but it came down the wrong way, and fell where it had no business to fall, and got caught in the branches. Iván made himself a lever with his axe, began to turn the tree, and barely brought it down. Iván went to chop a second tree, and the same thing happened. He worked and worked at it, and brought it down. He started on a third tree, and again the same happened.
Iván had expected to cut half a hundred trunks, and before he had chopped ten it was getting dark. Iván was worn out. Vapours rose from him as though a mist were going through the woods, but he would not give up. He chopped down another tree, and his back began to ache so much that he could not work: he stuck the axe in the wood, and sat down to rest himself.
The devil saw that Iván had stopped, and was glad:
"Well," he thought, "he has worn himself out, and he will stop soon. I will myself take a rest," and he sat astride a bough, and was happy.
But Iván got up, pulled out his axe, swung with all his might, and hit the tree so hard from the other side that it cracked and came down with a crash. The devil had not expected it and had no time to straighten out his legs. The bough broke and caught the devil's hand. Iván began to trim, and behold, there was a live devil. Iván was surprised.
"I declare," he said, "you are a nasty thing! Are you here again?"
"I am not the same," he said. "I was with your brother Tarás."
"I do not care who you are,—you will fare the same way." Iván swung his axe, and wanted to crush him with the back of the axe.