“Very good,” said Alenka; “it won’t take long to teach you.”
But the moment she sat down on the shovel, Ivashko instantly pitched her into the oven, slammed to the iron plate in front of it, ran out of the hut, shut the door, and hurriedly climbed up ever so high an oak-tree [which stood close by].
Presently the witch arrived with her guests and knocked at the door of the hut. But nobody opened it for her.
“Ah! that cursed Alenka!” she cried. “No doubt she’s gone off somewhere to amuse herself.” Then she slipped in through the window, opened the door, and let in her guests. They all sat down to table, and the witch opened the oven, took out Alenka’s baked body, and served it up. They all ate their fill and drank their fill, and then they went out into the courtyard and began rolling about on the grass.
“I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko’s flesh,” cried the witch. “I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko’s flesh.”
But Ivashko called out to her from the top of the oak:
“Turn about, roll about, having fed on Alenka’s flesh!”
“Did I hear something?” said the witch. “No it was only the noise of the leaves.” Again the witch began:
“I turn about, I roll about, having fed on Ivashko’s flesh!”
And Ivashko repeated: