Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,
Float up, float up, unto the waterside;
I bring thee food and drink.
Ivashko perceived that the voice was not his mother’s, but was that of a witch, and he sang:
Canoe, canoe, float a little farther,
Canoe, canoe, float a little farther;
That is not my mother, but a witch who calls me.
The witch saw that she must call Ivashko with just such a voice as his mother had.
So she hastened to a smith and said to him:
“Smith, smith! make me just such a thin little voice as Ivashko’s mother has: if you don’t, I’ll eat you.” So the smith forged her a little voice just like Ivashko’s mother’s. Then the witch went down by night to the shore and sang:
Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,
Float up, float up, unto the waterside;
I bring thee food and drink.
Ivashko came, and she took the fish, and seized the boy and carried him home with her. When she arrived she said to her daughter Alenka,[209] “Heat the stove as hot as you can, and bake Ivashko well, while I go and collect my friends for the feast.” So Alenka heated the stove hot, ever so hot, and said to Ivashko,
“Come here and sit on this shovel!”
“I’m still very young and foolish,” answered Ivashko: “I haven’t yet quite got my wits about me. Please teach me how one ought to sit on a shovel.”