“Prince Slugobyl, it is not a poor cygnet that thanks you, but the daughter of the Invisible Prince, who, changed into this shape, sought refuge from the pursuit of the giant Koshchei. My father will reward you for this good action. Remember when you have need of him, you have only to speak these words thrice—‘Invisible Prince, come to me.’”
When it had thus spoken, the cygnet flew away, and the prince, having watched it till it was out of sight, continued his journey. He went on for a long time until he found himself in the midst of a plain scorched up by the heat of the sun. Not a tree, not a bush, not even a plant, was to be seen. No bird flew by, no insect broke the stillness with its hum. Everything seemed as if it had been stricken with death by the sun’s rays. The prince, after having travelled some hours on this plain, began to feel very thirsty, so he sent his servant off to see if he could find some spring or well at which he could alight. By good luck the servant found a well, very deep, and containing plenty of fresh water, but there was nothing by means of which they could draw the water up. What should they do? At length the prince said—
“Take the cord with which we secure our horses and fasten it around you, and then I will let you down into the well, for I am nearly dead with thirst.”
“My prince,” answered the servant, “I am heavier than you, and you are not so strong as I am. If I go down you will never be able to draw me up again. It would be better for you to go down the well, and then I can pull you up when you have drunk as much as you wish.”
The prince thought the advice good, and the servant tied the cord under his arms, and let him down into the well. When he had drunk as much as he wished, he got some of the water for his servant, and then he pulled the cord as a signal for him to draw him up. Instead of doing so, however, the servant looked down and said to him—
“Listen to me, prince. Since the day of your birth up to the present time you have had everything you wished for, while I have undergone great misery, and have slaved all my life. Now we will change places. Take your choice. Will you be my servant? If not, pray Heaven to have mercy on you, for I shall leave you to drown.”
“Stop, my good servant,” said the prince, “don’t do that, I beg you. What good would it do you? You would never find so good a position as you have with me, and you know that murderers meet with a dreadful fate in the next world. Their hands are plunged in boiling pitch, their shoulders are scourged with red-hot iron, and their necks are sawn with wooden saws.”
“I do not care for all that,” said the servant, “but I know that I shall drown you unless you consent.”
And he commenced to loosen the cord.
“Well then,” said the prince, “I agree to what you ask. You shall be my prince and I will be your servant. I pledge you my word.”