“Blacksmith, blacksmith, forge me a little fine voice as quickly as you can,” she cried, “or I will put you in my mortar and grind you to pieces with my pestle.”
The blacksmith was frightened. He made her a little fine voice as quickly as he could, and the Baba Yaga took it and hastened back to the river.
There she hid herself close to the shore and called in her little new voice, “Peter, Peter, bring your boat to the shore, for I have brought another little cake for you to eat.”
When Peter heard the Baba Yaga calling him in her fine, small voice, he thought it was his mother, so he said to his boat:
“Little boat, little boat, float a little nearer.
Little boat, little boat, float a little nearer.”
Then the little boat came to the land. Peter looked all about, but saw no one. He wondered where his mother had gone, and stepped out of his boat to look for her.
Immediately the Baba Yaga seized him. Like a whirlwind she rushed away with him through the forest and never stopped till she reached her own house. There she shut him up in a cage behind the house to keep him until he grew fat.
After she had shut him up, she went back into the house, and her little cat was there. “Mistress,” said the cat, “I have cooked the dinner for you, and I am very hungry. Will you not give me something to eat?”
“All that I leave, that you can have,” answered the Baba Yaga. She sat down at the table and ate up everything but one small bone. That was all the cat had.