“To the withered Birch-tree in the forest.”
“Oh, what an idiot!”
On the third day the Simpleton took his hatchet and went to the forest. Arriving there, he demanded his money; but the Birch-tree only creaked and creaked. “No, no, neighbor!” says he. “If you’re always going to treat me to promises,[63] there’ll be no getting anything out of you. I don’t like such joking; I’ll pay you out well for it!”
With that he pitched into it with his hatchet, so that its chips flew about in all directions. Now, in that Birch-tree there was a hollow, and in that hollow some robbers had hidden a pot full of gold. The tree split asunder, and the Simpleton caught sight of the gold. He took as much of it as the skirts of his caftan would hold, and toiled home with it. There he showed his brothers what he had brought.
“Where did you get such a lot, Simpleton?” said they.
“A neighbor gave it me for my ox. But this isn’t anything like the whole of it; a good half of it I didn’t bring home with me! Come along, brothers, let’s get the rest!”
Well, they went into the forest, secured the money, and carried it home.
“Now mind, Simpleton,” say the sensible brothers, “don’t tell anyone that we’ve such a lot of gold.”
“Never fear, I won’t tell a soul!”
All of a sudden they run up against a Diachok,[64] and says he:—