Baba Yaga Bone-Leg
O
nce upon a time there lived a widower
with his little girl. So he wouldn’t be lonely, he found a new wife.
But she was evil. She hated the little girl, and tried to get rid of her.
One day the widower was leaving on business.
“Take care of my little girl, so nothing happens to her,” he said to
his wife.
“Oh I will,” said the stepmother. “Don’t you worry.”
As soon as he had left, the stepmother called the girl:
“Oh my sweetheart, oh my sunshine! Do you know what I’ll do?
I’ll sew you a dress, as blue as the sky and with a crimson poppyseed pattern. But I don’t have anything to sew with—run to my
sister, so she can give you a needle and thread.”
Her sister was the witch Baba Yaga Bone-Leg. The little girl was no
fool; she knew that. So first she went to her real aunt for advice.
“Oh, my girl, I know just what will happen,” her aunt told her.
“Her maid will heat the furnace—give her a scarf. The gate will slam
and creak—rub butter on its hinges. The dog will want to rip you
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apart—give him some bread. The tomcat will want to scratch out your
eyes—give him some ham.”
The little girl thanked her aunt for the advice and set out on her
way. She walked through the deep woods, the black forest, where no
bird sings, where no deer sets hoof. In the blackest spot of the forest,
a clearing suddenly opened up. And in it stood a little cottage.
The gate slammed and creaked, and inside sat Baba Yaga Bone-Leg,
weaving.
“Good day, Auntie!”
“Good day, my girl.”
“My new mommy sent me to ask you for a needle and thread, so she
can sew me a dress as blue as the sky and with a crimson poppy-seed
pattern.”
“Very well. Take my place, and you weave for now.”
The little girl sits at the loom and begins to weave. Baba Yaga goes
out, and in the yard she tells her maid: “Prepare a bath for that girl and
wash her well. I’ll eat her for breakfast.”
Through the window the girl heard what Baba Yaga ordered the maid
to do. Scared half-to-death, she sits still, only weaving, and weaving.
The black tomcat keeps an eye on her from the furnace; the dog guards
the door.
The maid comes inside, carrying a bundle of wood and a pail of
water. The little girl pleads: “Bring less wood and sprinkle the fire with
water.”
And she gives her scarf to the maid.
Baba Yaga waits outside, shuffling around on her bony limbs, peeking
through the window at the girl.
“Are you weaving, little girl? Are you weaving, my dear?”
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“Prepare a bath for that girl and wash her well. I’ll eat her for breakfast.”
“I am, auntie, I am.”
The little girl calls to the tomcat and pets his back. She gives him
a piece of ham and asks:
“Is there any way to escape from here?”
“Here is a towel and a comb,” the tomcat explains. “When you run,
Baba Yaga will come after you. But put your ear to the ground and
listen. When you hear her getting close, throw the towel behind you.
It will turn into a raging river. When Baba Yaga has crossed the river,
put your ear to the ground. When you hear her getting close, throw
the comb behind you. A thick forest will grow from it.”
The little girl grabbed up the towel and the comb and ran out of
the cottage as fast the wind.
The dog started after her; he wanted to tear her apart. But the
little girl threw him the bread and he let her leave. The gate tried
to slam shut, but the little girl rubbed butter on its hinges, and the
gate opened right up. And the tomcat sat at the loom and wove. Well,
actually, he made more of a mess than wove.
Baba Yaga waits outside, shuffling around on her bony limbs. She
comes to the window and asks:
“Are you weaving, little girl? Are you weaving, my dear?”
“I aaam, I aaam,” meows the tomcat.
Baba Yaga rushes into the cottage and sees—the girl is gone! She
howls with rage, then groans and tries to swat the tomcat: “Why
didn’t you scratch her eyes out?”
“I’ve done your bidding for so long,” the tomcat responds, “and
you’ve never given me so much as a bone. She gave me ham.”
Baba Yaga threw herself on the tomcat, the dog, the gate and even
the maid, thrashing them all and cursing each.
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The dog barked at her: “I’ve done your bidding for so long, and
you’ve never even given me so much as a moldy crumb. But she gave
me bread.”
The gate creaked: ““I’ve done your bidding for so long, and you’ve
never even dripped water on my hinges. She rubbed them with
butter.”
The maid said: “I’ve done your bidding for so long, and you’ve
never given me so much as a rag. She gave me her scarf.”
Baba Yaga Bone-Leg doesn’t waste anymore time. She sits on her
mortar and whips it with her pestle, and with her broom she sweeps
the tracks, rushing after the girl.
The little girl puts her ear to the ground, and she hears that Baba
Yaga is nearby. She takes out the towel and throws it behind her.
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It spreads out into a broad, raging river. Baba Yaga comes to the
river and grits her teeth in anger. Then she returns home to fetch
her bulls; she drives them to the river and the bulls drink it dry.
Again she sits on her mortar and whips it with her pestle, and with
her broom she sweeps the tracks. The little girl again puts her ear to
the ground, and she hears that Baba Yaga is nearby. She throws the
comb behind her, and from it grows a thick, black forest. Baba Yaga
comes to the forest and hisses furiously. With her sharp fangs she
starts gnashing at the trees. But she cannot bite her way through.
There is nothing to do but return.
When the little girl’s father arrived home, he asked:
“Wherever is my daughter? Did you watch her well?”
“She went to my sister’s,” answered the stepmother. “Don’t you
worry.”
That very night the daughter ran home—out of breath, with her
dress torn.
“Wherever were you?” the father asked.
“Oh, daddy, my new mommy sent me to her sister to borrow a
needle and thread, so she could sew me a new dress as blue as the
sky and with a crimson poppy-seed pattern. But her sister is Baba
Yaga, and she wanted to eat me!”
Her father was horrified. “How, my daughter, did you ever get
away?”
“This is how, daddy,” and the little girl told him everything.
When her father had heard it all, he was furious at his new wife
and with a horsewhip he whipped her out of the house.
And from that time, he and his daughter lived happily ever after.
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