They sat on the horse and rode off. Koshchéi Without-Death was coming home; under him stumbled his steed.
“Why stumble, hungry crowbait; or feelest thou evil?”
“Ivan Tsarevich came, took away Marya Morevna.”
“Can we overtake him?”
“God knows! Now Ivan Tsarevich has an heroic steed better than I.”
“I cannot stand this,” said Koshchéi the Deathless, “I’ll give chase.”
Whether it was long or short, he caught up with Ivan Tsarevich, sprang to the ground, and wanted to cut him with his sharp sword. That moment Ivan’s horse struck, with all the sweep of his hoof, Koshchéi Without-Death, and smashed his skull. The Tsarevich finished him with his club. Then he raised a pile of wood, made a fire, burned Koshchéi Without-Death on the fire, and scattered the ashes to the wind.
Marya Morevna mounted Koshchéi’s horse, and Ivan Tsarevich his own. They went to visit the Raven, then the Eagle, and last the Falcon; wherever they came they were met with joy.
“Oh, Ivan Tsarevich, we did not think to see thee! It was not for nothing thou didst struggle; another such beauty as Marya Morevna could not be found if sought for in the whole world.”
They visited and feasted, and set out for their own kingdom; arrived there, gained wealth, and drank mead.