The sharpshooter looked and wondered. He saw no one, but the food was swept from the plates as if with a broom; the bottles raised themselves and poured the wine into glasses,—behold, in a moment bottles and glasses are empty!
“Shmat-Razum, dost thou wish to serve me?” asked the sharpshooter. “I’ll give thee a pleasant life.”
“Why not? I am sick of being here; and thou, I see, art a kind man.”
“All right; pick up everything and come along.” The sharpshooter went out of the cave, looked around, saw no one, and asked: “Art thou here, Shmat-Razum?”
“Here; I’ll not leave thee, never fear.”
“Very well,” said Fedot, and sat on the frog,—she swelled, jumped over the river, and became small. He put her in the bowl, and went on the homeward road, came to his mother-in-law, and made his new servant entertain the old woman and her daughters. Shmat-Razum gave them such a feast that the old woman came very near dancing from joy. She ordered that three bowls of milk be given to the frog every day in reward for her faithfulness. The sharpshooter bade good-by to his friends and set out for home. He travelled and journeyed till he was almost wearied to death. “Oh, Shmat-Razum,” said he, “if thou couldst only know how tired I am, I am just losing my legs.”
“Why not tell me long ago?” asked the other; “I should have brought thee home quickly.” With that he seized Fedot and bore him like a rushing whirlwind, so swiftly that his cap fell off.
“Hei, Shmat-Razum, wait a minute; my cap is gone.”
“Late, my master; thy cap is now three thousand miles behind.”
Towns and villages, rivers and forests, just flashed before the eye; as Fedot was flying over a deep sea Shmat-Razum said: “If thou wishest, I will make a summer-house in the midst of the sea; thou canst rest, and acquire great fortune.”