“Patience, good grandmother,” said the Tsarevich gently, “it is easy to loose the bridle and tie the horse to another ring.”
“Ah, my good youth,” said the old woman gently, and as one would speak to a child, “did I frighten you? Sit down now on the bench and take food and drink.” Ivan did so, and then without being asked he told the old woman where he was going and what was his quest.
“Go to your rest,” she said shortly. “In the morning I will call my givers of answers.”
Next morning the old woman and the young man sat in the porch, and the former gave a heroic whistle, whereupon the blue sea heaved in a great heap, and the fishes, large and small, sea-serpents and sea-dragons, rose upon the surface and made for the shore.
“Come no farther,” said the old woman, raising her right hand. “Tell me where this good youth can find Peerless Beauty.” Then the answer came from a million mouths, “We have not seen or heard of her.”
The old woman blew her whistle and the forests echoed to the sound of a million voices of wild beasts, but the answer to her question was, “We have not seen or heard of her.”
“Come hither,” said the grandmother, “all ye birds of the air.” And in a moment the light of the sun was hidden and the sound of flapping wings was like a tempest. But the answer of the birds to the question was, “We have not seen or heard of her.”
“My givers of answers fail me,” said the ancient woman as she took Ivan by the lily-white hand and led him into the house. Then there flew through the open window the Mogol Bird which fell to the ground at her feet.
“Ah, Mogol Bird,” said the old woman, “whither hast thou come?”
“I come from the home of Peerless Beauty,” was the tired reply, “and I have been dressing her for Mass in the Cathedral.”