University of Virginia Library

Ilya of Murom and Falcon the Hunter

ON the road to Kief town of courteous Prince
Vladimir, stood a great barrier and strong—
a force of seven mighty heroes, bold warriors
all, and lesser knights.

The first was Ilya of Murom, our Old Kazák
of the Don; the second Dobrynya Nikitich, the
third Alyosha Popovich, the fourth Churilo Plenkovich,
the fifth Mikailo the Rover, the sixth and
seventh the Agrikanof brothers. They pitched
their pavilions, and slept until the white dawn.

The barrier was strong: no horseman galloped
past nor wayfarer journeyed by, no wild beast
crouched, no bird soared overhead; and if, by
chance, a bird flew by, it dropped its feathers there.

There, late at even, passed young Falcon the
Hunter.[1] He asked no leave at the barrier, but
leaped across, and roamed the open plain.

The next morning, right early, at dawn of day,
our Kazák of the Don went out to the white court
to refresh himself, and espied the traces of a horse's
hoofs, the marks of a heroic ride and a black steed.

Then Ilya entered again the white pavilion, and
spoke these words: "Comrades, brothers, ye heroes
stout and mighty! What sort of a barrier is this
of yours—what manner of stern fortress? But
now I beheld the traces of a horse's gallop, of a

heroic ride. Arm ye then, friends, for a foray into
the open plain to seek the rash intruder." Then
he began to hold a great council:

"It will not do, children, to send Vaska Long-skirt,
for he will get entangled in his skirts in the
encounter; nor Grishka the Noble, for men of
noble descent are boastful, and he will vaunt himself
in the combat. Nor may Alyosha go against
the unbidden visitor, for Alyosha is of popish
descent, and popes' eyes are covetous, popes' hands
pilferous; Alyosha will see the braggart's great
store of gold and silver, and will covet them. Dobrynya
Nikitich must go: if the knight be Russian,
then shall Dobrynya swear brotherhood with him,
but if he be an infidel knight, he shall challenge
him to single combat."

Dobrynya sprang to his nimble feet, saddled and
mounted his good steed, and rode forth to Father
Sakatar river, by the blue sea. As he looked along
the straight road, he beheld a knight riding before
him, with youthful valour. The horse under the
hero was like a wild beast; at each leap he compassed
a vcrst, and the tracks he left were as large
as a ram or a full-grown sheep. From that good
steed's mouth flames flashed, from his nostrils
sparks showered abroad, from his ears smoke
curled in rings.

The helmet on the hero's head glowed like fire,
and his horse's bridle darted rays; stars sprinkled
from his stirrups, on his saddle stood the dawn, the
morning dawn. At his left stirrup sprang a greyhound,
and a dragon of the hills was also chained
thereto. On his right stirrup perched a blue-gray
eaglet, who sang and whistled without ceasing,
caressing and diverting the hero. From shoulder
to shoulder hopped a falcon clear, plucking his
long locks from ear to ear.

The knight sat his good steed well, and diverted
himself in noble wise, hurling his steel mace to the
clouds, and catching it as it fell, in his white hands,
without permitting it to touch the damp earth.
As he thus played, he conjured his mace: "Lightly
as I now whirl this mace aloft, even so lightly will
I twirl Ilya of Murom."

Then Dobrynya shouted: "Ho, thou Falcon
the Hunter! Turnest thou not back before our
barrier?"

Cried Falcon, "'Tis not for thee to pursue me
in the open plain! high time is it that thou wert
in the village herding the swine."

At that heroic cry, the peaceful bays were
troubled, the waters grew choked with sand. Dobrynya's
charger sank to his knees, and Dobrynya
fell to the damp earth, where he lay as in a heavy
sleep for the space of about three hours. When he
awoke from that swoon, he mounted his good steed,
and, returning to the barrier, told Ilya of Murom all.

Said the old man: "There is none to take my
place, the place of this turbulent old head."

Then saddled he his good charger Cloudfall,
both quickly and stoutly, and sprang upon his back
without touching the stirrups. On his saddle-strap
hung his war-club, and its weight was ninety poods.
On his hip rested his sharp sword, in his hand he
held his silken whip. Thus armed he rode in pursuit
of the knight to the Sorochinsky mountains,
and looking through the circle of his young fist,
he descried a black spot in the plain, and rode
towards it.

"Thief! dog! braggart!" he shouted in
piercing tones. "Why hast thou passed our
barrier, doing no reverence to me, asking no leave?"
When the braggart hunter heard that, he turned
and rode at Ilya; and Ilya's heart died within

him.—'Twas not two threatening clouds which
clashed, nor yet two mountains moved together,
but two stout heroes who rode against each other.

First they fought with their maces, until these
snapped short at the hilt,—and wounded one
another not. Then they fought with their sharp
swords, until these brake,—and wounded one
another not; and so likewise with their sharp
spears: and when these were shattered they lighted
down from their good steeds, and fought hand to
hand. All day they fought till even, till midnight,
till the white dawn:—and so they did the second
day, and likewise the third, and sank to their knees
in the earth.

Then Ilya waved his right hand, and his left foot
slipped from under him.—'Twas not a gray duck
fluttering, but Ilya falling to the damp earth like a
stack of hay.

Falcon the Hunter planted himself upon Ilya's
white breast, snatched out his dagger of damascened
steel, and would have pierced that white
breast, closed Ilya's clear eyes, and struck off his
turbulent head, and plucked out his heart with his
liver; but his arm was stiffened from the shoulder
down, and he could not move it.

"O Lord!" said Ilya: "It is written on my
right hand that I shall not die in battle." And to
Falcon he said: "O brave, good youth! tell me,
from what land art thou, from what horde? Who
are thy father and mother?"

Then the hunter began to curse: "Full time is
it, thou old dog, that thou shouldst shave[2] thy
head, and go to a monastery!"

Ilya's heroic heart grew hot at that, and his
young blood boiled. He smote Falcon upon his
black breast, and hurled him higher than the standing
wood, yet lower than the flying clouds. When
Falcon descended again to the damp earth, Ilya
leaped to his nimble feet, and sat upon the hunter's
breast.

"Tell me now, good youth, thy land, thy horde,
thy father's name."

"Sat I on thy white breast," the hunter answered,
"so would I not inquire of thee thy name
and country. But I would pierce thy white breast,
and scan thy restive heart, and scatter thy white
body over the plain, to be torn of the gray wolf,
and picked by the black crows."

Then Ilya inquired no further of him, but drew
forth his dagger. The youth perceived that misfortune
was close at hand, and answered:

"I come from the blue sea, from the palaces of
gray stone, from mighty Zlatigorka; and my father
I do not know. When I rode forth upon the open
plain, my mother enjoined me to greet the Old
Kazák Ilya of Murom, if I should chance to
meet him, but without approaching; to dismount
from my good horse and do reverence to him,
touching my forehead to the ground."

Then the old man felt compassion; for he knew
now that this was his own Falcon, by that fierce
Zlatigorka whom he had overcome in single combat,
and to whom he had given his golden ring
with an inscription, and set with a rich jewel. He
took Falcon by his white hands, kissed his sugar
lips, and called him his son, weeping greatly as he
looked upon him. Then he blessed him with a
great blessing.

"Ride, my child, my dear son, whither thou wilt,
over the open plain, but shed no blood without

cause, waste no strength in vain. And go now to
the blue sea, to thy mother, and greet her lowly
from me, from the Old Kazák Ilya of Murom.
For shouldst thou fall into the hands of our Russian
heroes, thou shouldst hardly escape thence alive."

The secret of his birth overwhelmed the good
youth as a great misfortune, and he rode straightway
to the blue sea, to the palaces of gray stone,
to his mother.

When he came to the fair porch, he shouted
with a great voice: "Ho there, thou bold and
evil warrior-maid! Come forth to meet the good
youth!"

So Zlatigorka came forth to meet him, bowing
low, and saluting him. But Falcon met her with
his sharp sword, and greeted her so that she fell
there upon the fair porch. For he liked it not that
he should be the son of a peasant, and of dishonour.

"I go now," quoth he, "to give that old dog
over likewise to speedy death, for so dishonoured
I will not live."

Therewith he wheeled his good charger about,
and rode to the pavilion of white linen. There he
fitted a burning shaft to his stout bow, and sent it
at Ilya's breast as he lay buried in sleep. But it
glanced aside from the wondrous golden cross,
three poods in weight, which Ilya wore, and roused
him from his slumber. He leaped forth from the
tent all unclothed as he was, seized Falcon by his
yellow curls, flung him upon the damp earth, cut
out his little heart, and scattered his four quarters
over the plain.

So Falcon's praise is sung, and Ilya's glory is not
diminished; and for ever shall Ilya be celebrated
in song.