‘Come in, my little dove, and be my guest! Are you going far?’
‘Far or near, Grandmother, I don’t know. I’m looking for Finist the Bright Falcon. You haven’t heard anything of him, have you, Grandmother?’
‘What do you mean? I’m old, I’ve been in the world a long time, I’ve heard of everyone. You’ve got a long way to go, my dear.’
In the morning the old woman woke Maryushka and said to her, ‘You must go on your way now, my dear. You must go and speak to my middle sister. She’s older than me and she knows more. Maybe she can set you on a good path and tell you where
your Finist now lives. But so you don’t forget me, take this silver distaff and golden spindle. They will spin you a gold thread out of plain flax. Take care of my gift as long as it’s dear to you. But if you no longer need it, give it away.’
Maryushka took the gift, wondered at it and said to her host, ‘Thank you, Grandmother. Now tell me which way I should go!’
‘I’m going to give you a little ball of yarn that rolls all by itself. Whichever way the ball rolls, that’s where you should go. And when you need a rest, just sit down on the grass. The ball will stop and wait till you’re ready.’
Maryushka bowed to the old woman and set off after the ball. She walked on and on – she lost count of how many days she had walked. She did not spare herself – even though the forests she walked through were dark and terrible, even though the fields were full of thistles instead of wheat, even though the mountains were gaunt and rocky and no birds sang in the sky above her. Maryushka walked ever further – and ever faster. Before she knew it, she had to change her shoes again. She had worn out a second pair of iron shoes; she had ground away a second iron staff; she had gnawed her way through a second stone loaf.
Maryushka sat down to change her shoes. She looked round. Night was setting in. Not far away was a black forest, and on the edge of the forest was a little hut. In the window a light was being lit.
Her little ball rolled up to this hut. Maryushka followed it and knocked on the window. ‘Good people!’ she called out. ‘Let me come in!’
An old woman came out onto the porch. She was older than the woman who had taken Maryushka in before.
‘Where are you going, fair maiden? Who in the world are you searching for?’
‘I’m searching for Finist the Bright Falcon, Grandmother. I stayed the night with an old woman in a forest. She had heard of Finist but never seen him. She told me that maybe her sister would know more.’
The old woman invited Maryushka into her hut. In the
morning she woke her guest and said, ‘You’ll have to go a long way if you’re going to look for Finist. I’ve often heard about Finist, but never have I set eyes on him. You must go now to our eldest sister – she’s sure to be able to help you. And so you don’t forget me, take this as a gift. It’ll be a keepsake in joy, and a help in need.’
And the old woman gave her guest a silver saucer and a golden egg.
Maryushka asked the old woman’s forgiveness, bowed to her and set off after the little ball.
Maryushka walked on. The earth she was walking over was no longer the earth she knew.
No longer was there any open steppe around her – only forest. And the further the ball rolled, the taller the trees grew. It turned dark. She could no longer see the sun and the sky.
But Maryushka went on through the darkness. She walked and walked – until she had worn out her last pair of iron shoes, until she had ground down her last iron staff, until she had eaten the last crumb of her last stone loaf.
She looked around her: what was she to do? She saw her little ball. It was lying beneath the window of a little hut in the forest.
Maryushka knocked at this window. ‘Kind people,’ she called out, ‘shelter me from the dark night!’
Out onto the porch came an ancient old crone – the very eldest sister of all the old women.
‘Come inside, my little dove!’ she said. ‘What a long, long way you’ve come! No one lives beyond me in the world – I’m as far as you can go. Tomorrow you’ll have to head in a different direction. But who are your people and where are you going?’
‘I’m not from these parts, Grandmother,’ replied Maryushka. ‘I’m searching for Finist the Bright Falcon.’
The eldest of the old women looked at Maryushka and said, ‘So you’re looking for Finist the Falcon, are you? I know him, yes, I know him all right. I’ve been living a long time, so long I’ve got to know everyone. I remember everyone.’
The old woman put Maryushka to bed. In the morning she woke her up and said, ‘It’s a long time since I’ve done anyone
any good. I live alone in the forest. I remember everyone, but no one remembers me. I shall do you a good turn – I can tell you where your Finist the Bright Falcon lives. But even if you find him, it will be hard for you. Finist-Falcon’s married now. He lives with his wife. It will be hard for you. But still, you have a good heart – and a good heart always brings with it good sense. And good sense makes light work of even the very hardest of tasks.’
‘Thank you, Grandmother,’ said Maryushka. And she bowed low, right down to the ground.
‘You can thank me afterwards. Now here’s a little present for you. Take this golden needle and embroidery frame: hold the frame – and the needle will sew of itself. Well, be off with you now. You’ll see what to do next as you go along.’
The little ball didn’t roll any further. The eldest old woman came out onto the porch and showed Maryushka which way to go.
Maryushka set off as she was, with no shoes on her feet. ‘How am I to keep going?’ she wondered. ‘The earth here is hard and strange underfoot. I must learn to get used to it.’
She walked a short way. She came to a clearing. In it stood a splendid house. It had a tower, and the porch and the window frames were finely carved. A rich, important-looking woman was sitting by one of the windows. She was looking at Maryushka: what was this young girl doing here?
Maryushka remembered: she had nothing to put on her feet and she had gnawed her way through her last stone loaf.
‘Greetings, mistress!’ she said. ‘Do you need any work done – in return for bread and shoes and clothing?’
‘I do,’ replied the important-looking woman. ‘But do you know how to take care of the stove and fetch water and cook dinner?’
‘I lived with a father and no mother. I can do everything.’
‘And can you spin and sew and embroider?’
Maryushka remembered the presents the three old grandmothers had given her.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Go along to the kitchen then,’ said the mistress of the house.
And so Maryushka began to work as a servant, a stranger in a rich household. Her hands were honest and diligent – there was no task they couldn’t perform.
The mistress of the house could hardly believe her luck. She had never had a maid who was so hard-working, so kind and so quick-witted. She ate plain bread, and she washed it down with kvass. She never even asked for tea. The mistress began to boast to her daughter:
‘Look what a good maid I’ve found. She’s clever and willing and she’s got such a sweet face.’
The mistress’s daughter looked at Maryushka.
‘Bah!’ she said. ‘Maybe she does have a sweet face, but I’m more beautiful than her and my skin’s whiter.’
That evening, when she’d finished her household tasks, Maryushka sat down to do some spinning. She sat down on the bench, got out the silver distaff and golden spindle and began to spin. She span – and the thread she span from the flax tow was not an ordinary thread, but a golden thread. She span – and as she span, she looked into the silver distaff and there in the distaff she could see Finist the Bright Falcon. There he was – alive and looking at her. Maryushka looked at him and began to speak to him:
‘Finist, Finist my Bright Falcon, why have you left me alone? Why have you left me to weep bitter tears for you? It was my sisters who separated us, my sisters who shed your blood.’
Just then the mistress’s daughter came into the servants’ hut. She stood at a distance, watching and listening.
‘Who are you weeping for?’ she asked. ‘And what is that trinket you’re playing with?’
Maryushka replied, ‘I’m weeping for Finist the Bright Falcon. And I’m spinning a thread. I shall embroider a towel for Finist, so he can wash his bright face in the morning.’
‘Oh!’ said the mistress’s daughter. ‘Why don’t you sell me your trinket? Finist is my husband. I shall spin a thread for him myself.’
Maryushka looked at the mistress’s daughter. She stopped her golden spindle and said, ‘I don’t have any trinkets. What I have here in my hand is my work. And the silver distaff and the
golden spindle are not for sale. A kind old grandmother gave them to me as a gift.’
This upset the mistress’s daughter. She didn’t want to let a golden spindle slip through her fingers.
‘If they aren’t for sale,’ she said, ‘then let’s do a swap. Give them to me as a gift – and I’ll give you a gift too.’
‘All right!’ said Maryushka. ‘Allow me to take one quick look, just out of the corner of my eye, at Finist the Bright Falcon.’
The mistress’s daughter thought for a moment, then agreed to this.
‘All right then. Give me your trinket.’
She took the silver distaff and the golden spindle. ‘Why shouldn’t the girl look at Finist for a few minutes?’ she said to herself. ‘He won’t come to any harm – I’ll give him a sleeping potion. And with this spindle my mother and I will soon be swimming in gold!’
Around nightfall Finist the Bright Falcon returned from the heavens. He turned into a handsome young man and sat down, together with his wife and his mother-in-law, to a family dinner.
The young mistress ordered someone to fetch Maryushka: she could wait on them at table. Like that, she could have a look at Finist, in keeping with their agreement. Maryushka appeared. She waited on the family all through the meal, served all their dishes and did not once take her eyes off Finist. But Finist did not respond; it was as if he were not there. He did not recognize Maryushka. She was worn out from the long path, and longing had changed her face.
The family finished their meal. Finist got to his feet and went to his chamber to lie down for the night.
Maryushka said to the young mistress, ‘There are a lot of flies about tonight. I’ll go into Finist’s chamber to keep them off him. Otherwise he won’t be able to sleep.’
‘Let her!’ said the old mistress.
Once again, the young mistress thought for a moment.
‘All right,’ she said, ‘but first let me go in myself.’
And she followed her husband into his chamber and added some sleeping drops to his glass of water. ‘Maybe,’ she was
thinking, ‘this maid has another trinket she’ll be willing to swap.’
‘Go along now,’ she said to Maryushka. ‘Go and keep the flies off my husband.’
Maryushka went into Finist’s chamber and quite forgot about the flies. There was her beloved friend. He was fast asleep – and she could not wake him from his sleep. She looked and looked at him – but, no matter how long she looked, she still hadn’t looked her fill. She bent down over him. She was breathing the same air as him. She whispered, ‘Wake up, my Finist. Wake up, my Bright Falcon. Here I am – I’ve come to you. I’ve worn out three pairs of iron shoes, I’ve worn away three iron staffs and I’ve gnawed my way through three stone loaves!’
But Finist remained fast asleep. He did not open his eyes or say a word in answer.
Then the young mistress, Finist’s wife, came in.
‘Well,’ she asked. ‘Have you been keeping the flies off him?’
‘Yes, they’ve all flown out of the window.’
‘Well then, it’s time you went back to the servants’ hut for the night.’
The following evening, after she had done all her housework, Maryushka took out her silver dish and her golden egg. She rolled the golden egg around – and a new golden egg rolled off the dish. She rolled the egg around a second time – and another golden egg rolled off the dish.
The young mistress saw all this.
‘Oh!’ she said. ‘You’ve got another trinket, have you? Sell it to me. Or you can swap it for anything you like.’
‘I can’t sell you the silver dish and the golden egg,’ said Maryushka. ‘A kind old grandmother gave them to me as a gift. Now let me give them to you in turn. Here you are!’
The young mistress took the silver saucer and the golden egg. She was delighted.
‘Maryushka,’ she said, ‘maybe there’s something you’d like for yourself. You can ask for whatever you want.’
‘There’s very little I want. Just let me keep the flies off Finist again tonight, after you’ve put him to bed.’
‘All right,’ replied the young mistress. She was thinking, ‘My
husband won’t come to any harm from being looked at by a strange girl. Anyway, I’ll give him a sleeping potion and he won’t even open his eyes. And who knows? Maybe this servant girl has brought some other little trinket with her!’
Around nightfall Finist the Bright Falcon came back again from the heavens. He turned into a handsome young man and sat down to dine with his family. The young mistress called Maryushka in to wait on them. Maryushka laid the table, served all the dishes – and didn’t once take her eyes off Finist. But Finist looked without seeing. His heart did not know her.
Once again the young mistress gave her husband a sleeping potion and put him to bed. Once again she sent Maryushka the maid to him, to keep off the flies.
Maryushka went in to Finist’s room. She began calling him and weeping over him. She thought he’d wake up any moment, take one look at her and know her for his Maryushka. She called and called. She wiped the tears from her own face so that they would not fall on Finist’s white face and wet it. But Finist went on sleeping. He did not wake up and open his eyes to her.
On the third evening, when she was done with her household tasks, Maryushka sat down on the bench in the servants’ hut and took out her golden needle and embroidery frame. She held the frame in her hands, and the needle sewed of itself.
As Maryushka sat and worked, she kept saying, ‘Show yourself, show yourself, my beautiful pattern. Embroider yourself for Finist the Bright Falcon. Fill him with wonder.’