Then Ivan saw a great pike leap from the ocean sea and lie floundering upon the shingle shore. “Pike, pike,” said he, “I will kill you and eat you without cooking.”
“Better, far better, and much the best,” said the pike, “if you cast me into the sea.”
“It seems to me,” said Ivan Tsarevich, “that the cakes of Peerless Beauty have wrought a spell, and that I am to have nothing further to eat. Well, then, in the strength of those cakes I will go on with it.” So he flung the floundering pike back into the ocean sea, and when it splashed the great water boiled up and began to race along and up the shore so quickly that Ivan was forced to run before it with all his might and main.
Onward he ran and ever onward, with the water racing at his heels and occasionally washing them.[1] Onward he ran and ever upward, until he came to a tall tree upon a high bank of sand. Upward he climbed and ever upward, and then saw that now the waters of the ocean sea were quickly falling; and when they had gone back within their own boundaries Ivan saw that they had left high up on the shore a huge stump of a tree.
The bear ran up, raised the stump in its arms, and hugged it until it cracked—snap, smash—and from the inside of it flew out a downy duck, which soared high and ever higher, until it looked like a dark green bottle with a long neck. Then the hawk flew up and caught it, whereupon an egg fell into the sea, which was caught by the pike, which swam to the beach and laid it gently at Ivan’s feet.
The young man placed the egg in the warm napkin within his pouch and ran forward, ever forward, until he came to Peerless Beauty, who was stooping over the stove in the kitchen. Ivan put his arms about the cake-baker, who grasped his hands and pressed them; and when she stood upright the egg was in her left palm.
Ivan turned and saw Koschei sitting on the window ledge and scowling at him, because he expected that the cakes and baked meats that Peerless Beauty was cooking were all for him. But as the two rushed to the grip, Peerless Beauty dropped the egg upon the stove. It broke, and as the shell cracked, Koschei’s heart broke also, and he fell down dead.
Then the bride and bridegroom went to the eating room, and Ivan Tsarevich feasted on cakes and baked meats which Peerless Beauty had prepared when he was on his journey to the ocean sea; and after that they went to the country of Ivan’s father, who rubbed his eyes when he saw them and said, “Why, Ivan Tsarevich left home when he was only nine days old, and now he brings Peerless Beauty to me as my daughter. Well, I never!”
“Well, we never!” cried the nurse-maidens in a chorus, as they ran to get ready for the second wedding, which was to be celebrated with great splendour. “Really, we never did! Whoever would have thought it?”
There is very little doubt that Ivan Tsarevich was the first “nine days’ wonder” that ever was.