Ivan now stepped forward to the cave, after giving his charger an affectionate pat upon its glossy neck, and saw that it was closed with a door of iron. He raised his hand and struck a hearty blow upon the door, which opened, and he went in. As he stood in the middle of the dark earthen floor, iron claws came upon his hands and feet of themselves, and, coming forth from the place into the light of day, he began to climb up the steep face of the mountain—climb, climb, climb.
For a whole month he toiled upward, resting at night beneath some friendly bush, and at the end of the month reached the summit with a sigh of relief. “Well,” he said, “well, well, glory be to God!”
For a little while he rested, and then walked onward on the summit of the mountain—walked and walked, walked and walked, until he came to a castle of copper. At the gateway sat terrible wriggling serpents fastened with copper chains, crowds of them writhing in a mass upon the earth; and not far away was a well, at the mouth of which was a copper bucket fastened with a copper chain. Now Ivan watched the writhing serpents for a moment, and then, obeying an impulse of kindliness, he drew water in the copper bucket and gave to them to drink. When they had quenched their thirst they lay down in quiet, and Ivan was able to enter the castle unmolested.
At the doorway and just over the threshold the young man was met by a Tsaritza who was clothed in a cloth of a coppery red, warm and brilliant, and whose hair was of a deep auburn tinged with light and shining with the early gloss of youthfulness. She looked coolly at Ivan as if she thought little of him, but her greeting was courteous enough. “Who are you, gallant youth?” she asked, and the young man replied simply:
“I am Ivan, youngest son of the Great White Tsar.”
“How did you come here?” asked the Copper Tsaritza, “with your own will or against your will?”
“With my own will,” said Ivan. “I am in search of my mother. For, while she walked in the green palace garden, Whirlwind the Whistler came with a shriek and bore her away to an unknown land. Can you tell me where I may find her?”
“No, I cannot,” was the reply, “but far away from here lives my second sister the Silver Tsaritza—perhaps she will be able to tell you where you may find Golden Tress. But I pray you, good youth, when you have killed Whirlwind the Whistler, do not forget me, poor unfortunate, but rescue me from this place and take me out into the free white world. Whirlwind the Whistler holds me here as a captive and comes to visit me once in three months to torment me with his doleful whining.” Then she gave the good youth a copper ball and a copper ring as a token. “This ball,” she said, “will lead you to my second sister, and within this ring lies the whole of the Kingdom of Copper.”
Then Ivan set the copper ball rolling and followed it until he came to a castle all of silver and finer than the first. At the gateway were terrible writhing serpents fastened with silver chains, and near them was a well with a silver bucket. Remembering the previous reward for his impulse of kindliness, Ivan drew water and gave it to the serpents to drink. When they had quenched their thirst they lay down in quiet, and Ivan was able to enter the castle unmolested.
At the doorway, and just over the threshold, he was met by a Tsaritza, who was clothed in cloth of silver and whose hair was of fine white silver, which yet did not take away from the beauty of her youthfulness. At first she did not see Ivan, and she spoke to herself. “It will soon be three years,” she said, “since Whirlwind the Whistler first imprisoned me in this silver castle, and during that time I have not seen or spoken with a dweller in Holy Russia. But by my lost Kingdom I see a Russian now and a goodly one.” Then she bent her beautiful eyes upon Ivan and said in a voice like a silver bell, “Who are you, good youth?”