University of Virginia Library

Ilya of Murom and Tzar Kalin

AT courteous Prince Vladimir's palace in
royal Kief town, an honourable feast was
assembled of many princes, all the nobles,
the mighty heroes and their bold body-guards, and
all the merchant-traders.

The Fair Sun made good cheer; to one he gave
cities, to another towns, to this man villages, to
that one hamlets. And to Ilya he gave a cloak
of marten skins, with a collar of sables. But the
cloak came not into honour with Ilya, nor into
praise. He bare that cloak of marten skins to
the kitchen, dragged it about the brick floor by
one sleeve, and began to say to it:

"I will drag about that serpent, Tzar Kalin, by
his yellow curls, as I drag this cloak of marten
skins. As I pour green wine upon this cloak, even
so will I pour out his hot heart, with its seething
blood."

But a black-visaged maid bore this saying to
the Fair Sun Prince Vladimir. "Ilya hath been
in my kitchen," she said; "he hath dragged his
mantle of marten about, and hath said that even
so he would also drag Vladimir by his yellow curls.
And he hath poured green wine upon the mantle,
and declared that even so he would pour out
Prince Vladimir's burning heart with his own white
hands."

Then was Prince Vladimir very wroth, and
shouted in his thundering voice:

"Ye mighty heroes! lead Ilya to our dungeon,
and set an iron grating there; pile trunks of oak
trees on all sides, and heap over all yellow
sand."

The heroes went and told Ilya all, and besought
him to help them in this strait, else would Prince
Vladimir overwhelm them with his displeasure.
So Ilya mounted his good steed, and rode willingly
with them to the dungeon. There he dismounted
from his good Cloudfall, took off the Cherkessian
saddle and plaited bridle, and let his brown horse
wander free at God's good will.

Then he descended into the dungeon, and
the heroes made all fast as Prince Vladimir had
commanded.

When the Princess Apraxia heard of that, she
dug a deep passage, and carried sugar viands and
mead to Ilya of Murom the old Kazák. There
Ilya sat for the space of three years. And it
came to the ears of the Dragon Tzar Kalin.

Then Kalin the Tzar assembled a great host
from the Golden Horde, to ride against Kief town,
to take the Princess Apraxia for his wife. Each
of the forty Tzars and Tzareviches, the forty
Kings and Princes, had a company of forty thousand
men. They stood along swift-flowing Mother
Dnyepr, and about Kief town on all sides, a
hundred versts well told.

That dog Tzar Kalin seated himself on his
folding chair and wrote in haste a cartel, with a
swan-quill pen, and pure gold in place of ink,
upon crimson velvet. Then he chose his best
and favourite runner, gave him the cartel, and
commanded him in these words:

"Go thou to Kief town; enter not by the white

oak gates, but leap the city wall; bind not thy
horse, but enter straight the palace of white stone;
open the door wide, but close it not again; do no
reverence to Vladimir, neither take thou thy cap
from thy head. But take thy stand over against
him, fling this cartel upon the golden table, and
say to Prince Vladimir: `Take this cartel, and
look what is written there. Clean all thine arrow-straight
streets, remove the wondrous crosses
from God's temples, and build horse-stalls in the
churches; for our good steeds shall be stabled
there. And clean out all thy palaces of white
stone, for our host is great. And brew sweet
intoxicating liquors; let cask stand upon cask in
close array. For Kalin the Tzar and his great
host shall stand in thy city of Kief; and he shall
wed the Princess Apraxia.' "

All this was done as Kalin had commanded;
and when Prince Vladimir had read the cartel he
wrote a submissive letter in reply: "Thou hound
and Tzar Kalin! Grant me a truce of three
months to clean the streets and palaces, and to
brew the sweet liquors."

And Kalin granted the truce.

Prince Vladimir began to pace to and fro with
bitterness; he dropped burning tears from his clear
eyes, and wiped them away with a silken kerchief,
and said:

"Ilya of Murom the Old Kazák is no more;
there is none to fight for our faith and fatherland,
for the church of God and the city of Kief; there
is none to defend Prince Vladimir."

Then spake the Princess: "Little father! command
thy trusty servants to go to the deep dungeon
and see whether Ilya be not yet alive."

"Thou foolish princess!" Vladimir made answer.
"If I take thy turbulent head from thy

shoulders, will it grow again? How can the bold
good youth be living after these three years?"

Nevertheless he went himself to the dungeon,
and found Ilya with sweet viands, cushions of
down, and warm coverlets, reading the Holy
Gospel. He bowed to the earth before Ilya, and
besought him to defend them all, not for his own
sake, but for pity of the widows and orphans.
Then he took the Old Kazák by his little white
hands, by his golden ring, led him to his own table,
and gave him to eat and drink of the best.

So Ilya saddled his good steed, and sallied forth.
They saw the good youth as he mounted, they saw
him not as he rode. There was but a smoke-wreath
on the open plain, and springs of water
burst forth where good Cloudfall's hoofs beat the
earth. He leaped to the crest of a lofty mountain,
and the Old Kazák gazed upon all sides, hoping to
descry the absent Russian heroes.

In the east he espied white pavilions, for
Alyosha Popovich was come to the oak Nevida,
to the cross Levanidof, to the white stone Alatyr.
He had pitched a snowy tent, shaken out fine
wheat for his good steed, planted a staff of twenty
fathoms, and on it hung a golden tassel,—not for
beauty and splendour, but as a heroic signal, that
the accursed Tatars might know that Alyosha
Popovich stood on guard in the open plain.

From afar, very far, came also Dobrynya Nikitich
to the oak, the cross, the stone, pitched his
pavilion, and displayed two tassels; and so the
other heroes did likewise. Then came Ilya, placed
three golden tassels on his staff, flung the silken
reins on his steed's neck that the good beast might
gather up a little of the wheat, and entered the
white pavilion, where twelve heroes of Holy Russia
were sitting at meat.

All rose and kissed, and bade him welcome
heartily. Then they sat down again to eat and
drink, and Ilya announced his errand.

But his godfather, Samson Samoilovich, made
answer: "Nay, my beloved godson! but we will
not saddle our horses to defend Kief town, Vladimir,
and his Princess. For lo! he hath many
princely nobles, to whom he giveth meat and
drink and guerdon, while we have nothing from
Prince Vladimir."

"It will be the worse for thee," quoth Ilya; and
so they wrangled.

Meanwhile Vladimir wrapped himself in his
mantle furred with marten, and paced to and fro
in Kief town. For the truce was nearly expired,
and the heroes were not come. As he thus walked
the streets, his nephew, young Yermak Timofeevich,[1]
sprang forth from the royal pot-house, and
entreated Vladimir that he might have a heroic
steed, a coat of chain mail of ninety poods, and a
mace of equal weight, so that he might ride against
the hostile host.

"Thou art but a braggart child," quoth Vladimir,
"and hast never taken a mace in thy hand."

"If thou grant not the horse, uncle, I will go
on foot."

So Vladimir yielded, and bade Yermak choose
what horse he would from the stable, where he
should also find what armour he required. Thither
went the youth in all haste; but the chain mail
was so rusty, that he flung it down upon the brick
floor, whereupon all the rust flew from it.

Then Yermak saddled a good horse, and rode
to the barrier by the Nevida oak, and found the
twelve heroes playing checkers upon a board of

gold, and Ilya asleep upon a couch of fishes' teeth,
beneath a coverlet of sables.

Yermak was vexed, and shouted with all his
strength: "Ho there, thou Old Kazák, Ilya
Murometz! Yonder in Kief there is bread to eat
in plenty, but no one to defend the town."

Then said the Old Kazák: "Climb into the
damp oak, oak, young Yermak, and reckon yon
host by the standards."

Yermak climbed the damp oak, viewed the vast
host, and saw that it was sallying forth: damp
mother earth trembled and bent under the weight
thereof.

—The gray wolf could not skirt that force in
a long spring day; the black raven could not fly
about it in the longest day of summer, nor would
the longest light of autumn suffice for the gray
bird to fly over it.

Then Yermak leaped quickly from the damp
oak, sprang upon his good steed, and rode straightway
against that host. The heroes sat on in the
white pavilion. Ilya slept three days and nights.
During that space, young Yermak contended alone
with the Tatars, pausing not to eat not to drink,
nor to let his good steed rest.

"Mount the damp oak, Dobrynya," spoke Ilya
when he awoke. "Perchance young Yermak hath
fallen thence."

From the tree-top Dobrynya beheld the vast
host, and something more: not the black raven
flying, not the bright falcon soaring, but that bold
and goodly youth Yermak galloping against those
infidels. This he told to Ilya.

"Rise, ye Russian heroes!" shouted the Old
Kazák then. "Mount your good steeds, and sally
forth against that host. And take iron grappling-hooks,
catch them in young Yermak's shoulders,

and persuade him: `Thou hast breakfasted to-day,
now let us dine.' For the young lad will perish,
and will never attain to herohood."

So Alyosha went forth with stout grappling-irons;
but thrice did young Yermak break away
from them, and Alyosha returned to the pavilion.
And so it fared also with Dobrynya. Then Ilya went
himself. He sat his charger like a century-old oak,
wavering not, and caught hold of Yermak. "Calm
thy heroic heart," he said, "we will labour now."

As the clear falcon swoopeth down upon the
geese and swans, and small gray migratory ducks,
so swooped the Holy Russian hero upon that Tatar
horde, and began to trample the host under his
horse's hoofs, and to lay them low, as a mower
cutteth down the grass.

Then Cloudfall conjured him with human
tongue: "Aï, thou mighty Russian hero! Boldly
hast thou attacked this vast host, but thou mayest
not overcome it. For that hound Tzar Kalin
hath many great heroes and bold warrior-maids;
and moreover, he hath dug three great trenches in
the open plain. If thou ride against that horde,
we shall fall into those trenches. Out of the first
I may leap and bear thee, and likewise out of the
second. But out of the third I may not bear thee,
and though I leap forth, thou wilt remain in the
ditch. For I watched them dig the trenches whilst
thou wert sleeping, and so watching had no time
to eat my wheat."

This discourse pleased not the Old Kazák. He
grasped his silken whip in his white hands, and
beat the horse upon his flanks. "Thou treacherous
hound!" quoth he. "I feed and water thee, and
yet thou wilt abandon me in the deep ditches of
the open plain!"

So he heeded not good Cloudfall's warning, but

rode on, destroying the host with his spear and his
horse's hoofs; and his strength was not diminished.

When he fell into the first trench, his good
steed bore him out in safety. Again he rode, and
came to the second ditch; and from that also he
escaped. From the third, heroic Cloudfall leaped
nimbly (but bore not Ilya with him), and fled far
afield.

Then the accursed Tatars fell upon the Old
Kazák, fettered his nimble feet, bound his white
hands, and led him to where Tzar Kalin sat in his
linen pavilion.

"Aï, thou Old Kazák, Ilya of Murom!" quoth
Tzar Kalin. "How should a young puppy prevail
alone against my great host?"

And to his guards he said:

"Unbind Ilya's white hands, unfetter his nimble
feet." And it was done.

"Now sit thou at one table with me, Ilya; eat
my sweet viands, drink my mead, put on my
flowered apparel. Marry my daughter, and serve
not Prince Vladimir, but be vassal to me, the Tzar
Kalin."

"Had I my sharp sword by me, thou dog,
Kalin the Tzar, it should woo thy neck!" Ilya
answered. "None of these things will I do. But
I will uphold the temples of God, the Princess
Apraxia and Prince Vladimir, and the city of Kief."

Then he heard a voice from heaven say, "Lift
up thy hands, Ilya." So he lifted them, and smote
off Tzar Kalin's turbulent head, and going forth
from the pavilion, he began to destroy the Tatars;
and none opposed him. But he perceived that the
task was not small, and so seized a Tatar by the
heels, and began to beat the Tatars with a Tatar.
"This Tatar is stout," quoth Ilya, "he breaketh
not; he is tough, and teareth not."

When he was come to the open plain, he flung
the Tatar far from him, and blew a heroic blast on
his aurochs horn; for his clear eyes were dimmed,
his hot heart burned, and he could distinguish
neither the white day nor the black night. His
heroic steed heard that ringing blast, and galloped
to his master from afar.

Then Ilya mounted him, and rode forthwith to
a lofty mountain, and gazed to the eastward, where
the heroic steeds stood beside the white pavilions.
He lighted down from off his horse, fitted a fiery
arrow to his stout bow, and conjured it: "Fly,
little dart aflame, to yonder white pavilion! Tear
off the roof, pierce the white breast of my brother
in arms, make a small scratch—not large. For
he sleepeth, and taketh his ease, while I stand
here alone, and can do but little."

The shaft sped straight to the white breast of
Samson Samoilovich, and roused that glorious hero
of Holy Russia from his heavy sleep. When he
opened his eyes, and beheld that the roof of his
tent was gone, and a little dart had flown into his
breast, he sprang quickly to his nimble feet.

"Ho there, my mighty heroes of Holy Russia!"
he shouted. "Saddle now your good steeds in
haste, and mount with speed. An unwelcome
messenger is come from my brother in arms,—a
little dart. Had it not been for the cross of six
poods upon my breast, my turbulent head had been
torn away."

Right quickly then did those Holy Russian
heroes saddle their chargers, and ride towards Kief
town, and Ilya went down from the lofty mountain
to meet the twelve. And all thirteen heroes rode
against the Tatar horde.

For five hours these good youths mowed down
young and old, leaving not so much as a single

soul to continue the race. And when they were
come together again in one place, they began to
boast, and to say: "If there were a ladder to
heaven, we would climb it, and destroy all the
heavenly host!" Then they began again to slay
the Tatars: when lo ! two, yea even three, rose
up in place of every man they killed.

Then those mighty Russian heroes began to turn
their arms against each other, to pierce and hew
each other, so that of all those Russian warriors
there was left alive only young Yermak Timofeevich.[2]

When Yermak returned to Kief town, courteous
Prince Vladimir inquired of him: "How shall I
reward thee now, beloved nephew mine? Wilt
thou have estates, or golden treasure?"

And young Yermak made answer: "Grant me
only, uncle, that I may drink beer and wine without
price in all the pot-houses." And so Vladimir
granted it.

But Ilya of Murom, the Old Kazák of the Don,
was caught away from those accursed Tatars, and
with his good heroic Cloudfall was turned to stone.
And the bones of the Old Kazák have become
holy relics.[3]

And so the race of Russian heroes came to an
end for ever.