“Not yet,” replied the serpent; “it was fated at my birth that my foe should be Ivan Goroh [John Pea]; and he will be born from a pea.”
The serpent said this in jest; he expected no foe. The strong one relied on his strength; but the jest came true.
The mother of Vassilissa Golden Tress was grieving because she had no news of her children after the Tsarevna, the Tsareviches, were lost.
She went one day to walk in the garden with her ladies; the day was hot, she was thirsty. In that garden, from a foot-hill, spring water ran forth in a stream, and above it was a white marble well. They drew, with a golden cup, water pure as a tear. The Tsaritsa was eager to drink, and with the water she swallowed a pea. The pea burst, and the Tsaritsa became heavy; the pea increased and grew. In time the Tsaritsa gave birth to a son; they called him Ivan Goroh, and he grew, not by the year, but by the hour, smooth and plump; he is lively, laughs, jumps, springs on the sand, and his strength is growing in him all the time, so that at ten years he was a mighty champion. Then he asked the Tsar and Tsaritsa if he had had many brothers and sisters, and he heard how it happened that the whirlwind had borne away his sister, it was unknown whither, how his two brothers had begged to go in search of their sister, and were lost without tidings.
“Father, mother,” begged Ivan Goroh, “let me go too; give me your blessing to find my brothers and sister.”
“What art thou saying, my child?” asked the Tsar and Tsaritsa at once. “Thou art still green and young; thy brothers went, they were lost, thou wilt go too and be lost.”
“Mayhap I shall not be lost,” said Ivan Goroh. “I want to find my brothers and sister.”
The Tsar and Tsaritsa persuaded and begged their dear son, but he craved, cried, and entreated. They prepared him for the road, let him go with tears.
Ivan Goroh was free. He went out into the open field, travelled one day, travelled another. Toward night he came to a dark forest; in that forest was a cabin on hen’s legs; from the wind it was shaking and turning. Ivan spoke from the old saying, from his nurse’s tale. “Cabin, cabin,” said he, “turn thy back to the forest, thy front to me;” and the cabin turned around to Ivan. Out of the window an old woman was looking, and she asked, “Whom is God bringing?”
Ivan bowed, and hastened to ask: “Hast thou not seen, grandmother, in what direction the passing whirlwind carries beautiful maidens?”