“That’s nothing,” thought the mayor; “I will order another still better.” Straightway he galloped to find the sharpshooter, found his cottage, went in; and the moment he saw Fedot’s wife he forgot himself, his errand, knew not why he had come. Before him was such a beauty that he would not take his eyes off her all his life; he would have looked and looked. He gazes on another man’s wife, and in his head thought follows thought: “Where has it been seen, where heard of, that a simple soldier possessed such a treasure? Though I serve the king’s person and rank as a general I have never beheld such beauty!”
The mayor came to his mind with difficulty, and went home, ’gainst his will. From that hour, from that time, he was not his own. Sleeping or waking, he thought only of the beautiful woman; he could neither eat nor drink, she was ever before his eyes. The king noticed the change, and asked: “What has come upon thee,—some grief?”
“Oh, your Majesty, I have seen the sharpshooter’s wife; there is not such a beauty in the whole world! I am thinking of her all the time; I can neither eat nor drink, with no herb can I charm away my sorrow.”
The desire came to the king to admire the woman himself. He ordered his carriage and drove to the soldier’s quarters. He entered the room and saw unspeakable beauty. No matter who looked on the woman,—an old man, a youth; each was in love, lost his wits, a heart-flame pinched him. “Why,” thought the king, “am I wifeless and single? Let me marry this beauty,—that is the thing. Why is she a sharpshooter’s wife? It is her fate to be queen.”
The king returned to his palace and said to the mayor: “Listen to me! Thou hast known how to show me this unimaginable beauty, now find the way to get rid of her husband; I want to marry her myself. And if thou dost not put him out of the way, blame thyself; for though thou art my faithful servant, thou’lt die on the gallows.”
The mayor went his way sadder than before. How was he to “finish the sharpshooter?” he could not think. As he was going through back lanes and waste places, a Baba-Yaga met him.
“Stop,” said she, “servant of the king! I know all thy thoughts. If thou wilt, I will aid thee in this unavoidable sorrow.”
“Aid me, grandmother, and I’ll pay what thou wishest.”
“The king has ordered thee to put an end to Fedot the sharpshooter. That would be easy enough, for he is simple, were it not for his wife, who is awfully cunning. Well, we’ll give them such a riddle that it will not soon be explained. Go back to the king and say: ‘Beyond the thrice-ninth land, in the thirtieth kingdom, is an island, on that island a deer with golden horns.’ Let the king bring together half a hundred sailors,—the most good-for-nothing fellows, all bitter drunkards,—and order that a rotten old ship which has been out of service for thirty years be fitted for the voyage. Let him send Fedot the sharpshooter on that ship to get the deer with golden horns. In order to go to the island it is necessary to sail neither more nor less than three years, and back from the island three more; six in all. Well, the ship will sail out on the sea, serve about a month, and sink right there; the sharpshooter and the sailors will go to the bottom, every man!”
The mayor listened to these words, thanked the Baba-Yaga for her counsel, rewarded her with gold, and went off on a run to the king. “Your Majesty,” said he, “Fedot can be finished in such and such fashion.”