Whirlwind the Whistler carries away Golden Tress
Ivan without delay saddled his good steed, entered the audience chamber of his father, bowed to North, South, East, and West, and particularly to the Great White Tsar, mounted his horse and rode on and ever onward across the steppe, whether it was long or short. By and by he came to a forest in the heart of which stood a lordly castle protected from the keen winds by a ring of encircling pines. Ivan rode into the broad courtyard, where he met an old man and greeted him kindly with the words, “Many years and years of health to you.” “Who are you, goodly youth?” asked the old man, and Ivan said quietly and proudly, “I am Ivan Tsarevich, son of the Great White Tsar and his Tsaritza, Golden Tress.” “Oh, my very, very own nephew,” said the old man; “and whither is God leading you?”
“I am in search of my mother, Golden Tress,” said Ivan. “Can you tell me, uncle, where she may be found?”
“No, nephew, I cannot,” returned the old man, “and that to my sorrow and discomfiture. But what I am able to do I will do willingly. Here is a ball. Throw it before you as you ride. It will roll onward and lead you to a range of steep rugged mountains. In the side of this range of mountains you will find a cave which you must enter, and having entered you will find within a pair of iron claws.”
“Take these iron claws,” the old man went on, “and place them upon your hands and your feet. This will enable you to climb up the steep face of the mountain, and having done so, perhaps you will find there your mother, Golden Tress.”
This was good advice so far as Ivan was able to judge, so he took the ball in his hand, thanked his uncle courteously, and, starting his horse on the path which led through the pine forest, threw the ball before him. Onward and ever onward it rolled, but it seemed something more than a mere ball, for occasionally it came to a parting of the ways and then appeared to pause for a moment and consider. Then onward and ever onward it rolled, while Ivan rode behind it until he came out at last upon an open plain where a great horde was encamped; and in the midst of the horde stood a fair pavilion of white linen embroidered with gold. The ball made a path through the ranks of the men-at-arms, who stood nimbly aside to let it pass, until it rested, but impatiently rested, by the opening of the pavilion, near which two stout chargers were feeding on wheat of the finest which was scattered thickly for their sustenance and comfort.
Then two leaders came forth shoulder to shoulder and hand to hand from that fair pavilion, and Ivan saw that they were his two elder brothers.
“Where are you going, Ivan, son of the Great White Tsar?” they asked, and the young man answered, “I grew weary at home and thought of going to seek my mother, Golden Tress. Send these men of yours to their homes and let us go together.”
The two brothers assented, and in a short space of time the great army was disbanded, and the two brothers sat across their chargers ready to go forward after the ball which was bouncing in great impatience. As soon as the three put spurs to their horses it rolled on again and went onward and ever onward until it came to a cave in a steep mountain. At the opening of this cave Ivan slipped down from his horse and said to his brothers, “Take care of my horse while I go on up the face of this mountain, where perhaps I shall find my mother. Remain here and wait for me for the space of just three months. If I do not come back within that time then you may conclude that it is of no use waiting for me any longer.”
The brothers looked up the face of the steep mountain and thought in their hearts, “How can a man climb that mountain-side? He will merely fall and crack his skull.” But they did not give utterance to their thoughts. They merely said, “Well, brother, go, and God be with you. We will wait for you here.”