“Hail, grandfather!”
“Hail, brave youth! Art fleeing from labor, or seekest thou labor?”
“I am seeking labor.”
“What dost thou need?”
“I have heard that beyond the thrice ninth land, in the thirtieth kingdom, is a beautiful maiden, from whose hands and feet healing water flows, and that whoever gets and drinks this water will grow thirty years younger.”
“Well, brother, thou canst not go there.”
“Why not?”
“Because there are three broad rivers on the road, and on these rivers three ferries: at the first ferry they will cut off thy right hand, at the second thy left foot, at the third they will take thy head.”
Dmitri Tsarevich was grieved; he hung his stormy head below his shoulders, and thought: “Must I spare my father’s head? Must I spare my own? I’ll turn back.”
He came down from the mountain, went back to his father, and said: “No, father, I have not been able to find her; there is nothing to be heard of that maiden.”