Vassilissa Kirbítyevna took the key quickly, opened the cupboard, and reached a glass of vodka. Bulat the hero took not the glass, but seized the maiden by the right hand, drew her out of the tower, and seated her on the Tsarevich’s steed. They galloped away, the good hero and the beautiful soul-maiden, with all horse-speed.
Next morning Tsar Kirbít woke and rose. He saw that the top of the tower was broken and his daughter stolen; he grew powerfully angry, and gave command to pursue over all roads and ways.
Whether our heroes travelled much or little, Bulat took the ring from his hand, hid it, and said: “Go on, Ivan Tsarevich; but I will turn back and look for my ring.”
Vassilissa Kirbítyevna began to implore: “Do not leave us, Bulat the hero; if it please thee, thou shalt have my ring.”
“Impossible, Vassilissa Kirbítyevna; my ring was priceless. My own mother gave it me, and when giving, she said: ‘Wear and lose it not; forget not thy mother.’”
Bulat the hero galloped back and met the pursuers on the road. He slew them all straightway, left but one man to take news to the Tsar, hurried back, and caught up with the Tsarevich.
Whether they went much or little, Bulat hid his handkerchief and said: “Oh, Ivan Tsarevich, I have lost my handkerchief! Ride on thy road and way; I will soon come up with thee.”
He turned back, went some versts, and met pursuers twice as many; he slew them all, and returned to Ivan, who asked: “Hast found the handkerchief?”
“I have found it.”
Dark night overtook them. They pitched a tent; Bulat lay down to sleep, left Ivan Tsarevich on guard, and said to him: “If need be, rouse me.”