Hero Tales of Russia.
I.
THE STORY OF VOLGÁ.
The red sun was going down behind the high hills, behind the blue sea. The countless stars showed themselves in the clear sky, and the bright moon was shining in the heavens when Volgá the Hero was born in Holy Russia. Damp Mother Earth was his cradle. The earth rocked, and there was a great storm upon the blue sea, and the fish went down into the deep sea, the birds flew up into the sky, the great aurochs and the deer fled over the hills, the hares and rabbits ran into the thick forest, and the wolves and bears fled away among the fir trees, sables and martens escaped to the islands, because they knew that a hero was born in Russia.
When Volgá was an hour and a half old he spoke with a voice like thunder, and said:
“Come then, O Lady, my mother, young Márfa, put no baby-clothes upon me, nor a sash of silk, but give me strong steel armour, and on my head put a helmet of gold. In my right hand a club, a club made heavy with lead of the weight of a hundred pounds.” [[2]]
When Volgá was seven years old his mother had him taught to read, and she made him write with a pen. And from all the birds and beasts he learnt their skill and wisdom and the different tongues of all, and he understood the speech of all the beasts of the field and forest, and of all the birds and fishes.
When he was ten years old he learned much magic. First he learned to turn himself into a bright falcon, and next he learned to turn himself into a grey wolf, and the third thing he learned was to turn himself into a brown aurochs, a brown aurochs with golden hoofs.
When Volgá was seventeen he called his friends and companions together and formed a bodyguard of thirty youths save one, and Volgá himself was the thirtieth. He was their Chief, and took them with him on his journeys. He provided for them all and gave them abundance of food and drink, and of sugar sweetmeats many kinds. And warm clothes, too, he gave them, fur coats made of the skins of marten and sable and of panther. When his comrades slept Volgá slept not. Sometimes he turned himself into a grey wolf and ran and leaped in the dark forest and killed moose-deer and bears and wolves. Martens and panthers were his favourite prey, and he spared neither hares nor foxes. And at other times he turned himself into a bright falcon, flew far away over the blue sea and killed geese and white swans, and the little grey ducks he spared not. [[3]]