University of Virginia Library

Volgá and Mikula Selyaninovich the
Villager's Son[1]

COURTEOUS Prince Vladimir, of royal Kief
town, gave to his beloved nephew Volgá,
three cities, Kurtzovetz, Oryekovetz, and
a third, Krestyanovetz. For Volgá had traversed
many lands, many hordes; he had collected gifts
in tribute from all Tzars and kings, and had brought
them to glorious Kief town, to his uncle, Prince
Vladimir. Much gold had he collected and silver
and great pearls, and yet more of Arabian bronze,
which darkeneth never, nor corrodeth, and is more
precious than gold or pearls or silver.

Now, in those three glorious cities given him by
his uncle Vladimir, dwelt stiff-necked people, who
obeyed no man, neither gave gifts nor tribute to
any. Then young Volgá Vseslavich assembled his
good body-guard, and set out to take possession of
his towns. As they rode over the open plain, Volgá
heard a husbandman ploughing. The plough
screamed, the share grated against the stones.
Volgá rode in quest of the husbandman. A whole
day he rode until evening, and heard the plough
grate ever through the plain; but dark night overtook
him on the way, and he found not the man.
A second day he rode toward that husbandman

until dusk, and yet a third; and on the third day
he came upon the man driving his plough, and
casting the clods of earth from side to side of the
furrow. The husbandman ploughed up damp oaks,
stumps and great stones; and his nightingale
mare was named "Raise-her-head;" for she could
lift it to the clouds. His plough was of maple-wood,
his reins of silk, the share of damascened
steel with fittings of silver, and the handles of pure
gold. His curls waved over his brows of blackest
sable, his eyes were falcon clear; his shoes were of
green morocco with pointed toes; and under the
hollow of his foot, sparrows might fly. His hat
was downy, and his caftan was of black velvet.

Lord Volgá spoke these words: "God aid thee,
husbandman, in thy ploughing and tilling!"

"Art thou come, Volgá Vseslavich, with thy
troop?" answered the husbandman. "Ridest
thou far, Volgá? Whither leadeth thy course, with
thy good guard?"

"I go to take possession of three towns which
courteous Prince Vladimir, my uncle, hath given
to me, Kurtzovetz, Oryekovetz, and Krestyanovetz."

"Ho, Volgá Vseslavich! Robbers dwell there.
Two days ago I was in that town, bearing two sacks
of salt, of a hundred poods each, upon my nightingale
mare, and they demanded toll; and for all
I gave them they would still have more. Then I
began to thrust them back by thousands; he who
was standing is now sitting, he who was sitting
now lieth, and he who then lay will stand no more
for ever."[2]

Then spoke Volgá: "Husbandman! come thou
with me as my comrade."

The husbandman at that loosed the silken reins,
turned his mare from the plough and mounted the
good steed, and they rode forth.

But the husbandman soon paused in thought.

"Ho there, Volgá!" quoth he; "I have left
my plough in the furrow. Command now thy men
to turn it from the furrow, scrape the soil from the
share, and cast it into a willow bush, that robbers
find it not, that none discover it save those to
whom it will yield service,—my brother peasants."

So Volgá despatched five of his mighty youths,
and they twisted the handles all about, but could
not draw that plough of maple-wood from the
furrow.

Then Volgá sent thither ten men, and again his
whole body-guard; but the strength of them all
was not enough to loose the share, shake off the
earth and toss it into the willow bush.

Then the husbandman rode up on his nightingale
mare, grasped the plough of maple-wood with one
hand, shook the soil from the share, tossed it to the
clouds, saying:

"Farewell my plough! Never more shall I till
with thee."

Then they mounted their good steeds and rode,
and came to the famous town of Kurtzovetz, to
Oryekovetz, and to the little burgh of Krestyanovetz.

Thereupon the common folk assembled in
throngs and gave them great battle. And those
peasants were very cunning rogues. They reared
a treacherous bridge. But the youthful heroes
were yet more cunning, and first sent forward their
great force upon that bridge of staffwood. Then
the bridge broke, and all that host fell into the little

river, and began to drown and to be in sorry plight.
Volgá and the husbandman urged their good steeds
across that little stream, the Volkof, and the brave
chargers leaped it. Then they began to do honour
to the peasants, to give them due guerdon and to
lash them with their whips. And when they had
chastised these peasants at their good pleasure, they
rode back whence they came.

And the peasants began to be submissive from
that hour, and to pay their just tribute.

The husbandman rode in front, and Volgá essayed
to overtake him; yet spur on as he would,
he could barely keep in sight. Raise-her-head's
tail spread far abroad, her mane waved in the
breeze, and she went at a walk; but Volgá's horse
galloped at full speed. Raise-her-head paced, and
Volgá's steed was left far behind. Then Volgá
waved his cap and shouted. When the husbandman
perceived it, he restrained his nightingale
mare, the while Volgá spoke thus:

"Halt, thou husbandman! If that mare were
but a stallion, I would give for her five hundred
roubles."

"Thou art but foolish, Volgá," the husbandman
made answer: "I bought this mare as a foal from
her mother's side for five hundred roubles; and were
she a stallion she would be priceless."

"By what name art thou called, husbandman,
and what is thy patronymic?" asked Volgá.

"Now ho, thou Volgá Vseslavich!" the husbandman
made answer; "I will plough for rye and
stack it in ricks, I will draw it home and thresh it,
brew beer and give the peasants to drink:—and
the peasants shall call me Young Mikula Selyaninovich,
the Villager's Son."