“Good, I’ll come.”
“Well, friend, what has God given?”
“Glory be to God, grandfather, I’ve got off safe! The merchant has asked me to be at his house to-night, to carry his daughter to the graveyard. Should I go or not?”
“If you go, you won’t be alive, and if you don’t go, you won’t be alive. But you must go; it will be better so.”
“But what must I do? tell me.”
“Well this. When you get to the merchant’s, everything will be ready there. At ten o’clock the relations of the deceased will begin taking leave of her; and afterwards they will fasten three iron hoops round the coffin, and place it on the funeral car; and at eleven o’clock they will tell you to take it to the graveyard. Do you drive off with the coffin, but keep a sharp look-out. One of the hoops will snap. Never fear, keep your seat bravely; a second will snap, keep your seat all the same; but when the third hoop snaps, instantly jump on to the horse’s back and through the duga (the wooden arch above its neck), and run away backwards. Do that, and no harm will come to you.”
The Soldier lay down to sleep, slept till the evening, and then went to the merchant’s. At ten o’clock the relations began taking leave of the deceased; then they set to work to fasten iron hoops round the coffin. They fastened the hoops, set the coffin on the funeral car, and cried—
“Now then, Soldier! drive off, and God speed you!”
The Soldier got into the car and set off: at first he drove slowly, but as soon as he was out of sight he let the horse go full split. Away he galloped, but all the while he kept an eye on the coffin. Snap went one hoop—and then another. The witch began gnashing her teeth.
“Stop!” she cried, “you sha’n’t escape! I shall eat you up in another moment.”