Vasilissa awoke very early, but the Baba Yaga was already up. She looked out of the window. The light in the skull’s eyes was going out. All of a sudden there appeared the white horseman, and all was light. The Baba Yaga went out into the courtyard and whistled—before her appeared a mortar with a pestle and a broom. The red horseman appeared—the sun rose. The Baba Yaga seated herself in the mortar, and drove out of the courtyard, shooting herself along with the pestle, sweeping away her traces with the broom.
Vasilissa was left alone, so she examined the Baba Yaga’s house, wondered at the abundance there was in everything, and remained lost in thought as to which work she ought to take to first. She looked up; all her work was done already. The doll had cleared the wheat to the very last grain.
“Ah, my preserver!” cried Vasilissa, “you’ve saved me from danger!”
“All you’ve got to do now is to cook the dinner,” answered the doll, slipping into Vasilissa’s pocket. “Cook away, in God’s name, and then take some rest for your health’s sake!”
Towards evening Vasilissa got the table ready, and awaited the Baba Yaga. It began to grow dusky; the black rider appeared for a moment at the gate, and all grew dark. Only the eyes of the skulls sent forth their light. The trees began to crack, the leaves began to rustle, up drove the Baba Yaga. Vasilissa went out to meet her.
“Is everything done?” asks the Yaga.
“Please to look for yourself, granny!” says Vasilissa.
The Baba Yaga examined everything, was vexed that there was nothing to be angry about, and said:
“Well, well! very good!”
Afterwards she cried: