O
nce upon a time there lived
a father and a mother who
had a little boy. His name was
Alyoshka. One day, Alyoshka
asked his parents if he could go
fishing on the big lake.
“Absolutely not,” replied his mother.
“You’re too small, you might fall overboard
and drown.”
Alyoshka grumbled, he raged, he sulked,
so long and so well that in the end his
mother said “Fine—off you go, then!”
S
o the little boy climbed into his
boat, and commanded: “Sail, little
boat, sail far away!” The boat sailed
and sailed, all the way to the middle
of the lake. There Alyoshka started to fish.
The hours slid by and all of a sudden he
heard his mother in the distance, calling
him: “Alyoshka, Alyoshka, sail back to
shore, it’s midday and lunch is ready.”
And so Alyoshka commanded: “Sail, little
boat, quickly back to shore, my mother is
calling.”
The boat returned to shore, Alyoshka
jumped out, gave the fish to his mother, ate
and drank his fill, then his mother let him
go out again. He climbed back into his boat
and commanded: “Sail, little boat, sail far
away!”
S
oon Alyoshka was fishing again.
The hours slid by and all of a sudden
it was his father’s voice he heard in
the distance: “Alyoshka, Alyoshka,
sail back to shore, it’s four o’clock and tea
is ready.”
And so Alyoshka commanded: “Sail, little
boat, quickly back to shore, my father is
calling.”
The boat returned to shore, Alyoshka
jumped out, handed his father the fish, ate
and drank his fill, then his father let him go
out once more. He climbed back into his
boat and commanded: “Sail, little boat, sail
far away!”
N
ow, all that morning, a witch had
been lurking, hiding on the bank
nearby,
watching
Alyoshka’s
to-ing and fro-ing with his parents.
How she’d love to get her hands on that
little boy and have a taste! So she stood
on the bank and called out in her gravelly
ALYOSHKA
AND BABA YAGA
voice: “Alyoshka, Alyoshka, sail back to
shore, it’s six o’clock and supper is ready.”
It didn’t sound like his mother or his
father, so Alyoshka commanded: “Sail, little
boat, sail further off! It’s not my mother
calling, and it’s not my father. It’s the dread-
ful Baba Yaga, I can hear!”
The witch flew into a rage.
She raced as fast as she could to the black-
smith’s and asked him to make her a voice
as sweet as that of Alyoshka’s mother.
“Do it at once,” she added, “or I’ll eat
you up.”
The blacksmith obeyed and made her
a voice as sweet as Alyoshka’s mother’s.
So the witch returned to the shore, and
called out in honeyed tones: “Alyoshka,
Alyoshka, sail for shore, it’s eight o’clock
and dinner is ready.”
Alyoshka was fooled this time. He brought
the boat in to shore and soon found himself
in Baba Yaga’s sack.
B
ack at her house, the witch ordered
her daughter Oksana: “Heat up the
oven and put Alyoshka in to roast.
I’m going to fetch my dinner guests.”
Oksana kindled the oven and said to
Alyoshka: “Sit on the shovel so I can put
you inside.”
“But I’m only little,” replied Alyoshka,
“and I don’t know how. Would you show
me?”
Oksana positioned herself on the shovel,
and next thing she knew, Alyoshka had
shoved her into the oven! Alyoshka ran
from the house and climbed up the tallest
oak to hide.
T
he witch arrived home and knocked
at the door. Nobody answered. “That
wretched daughter of mine must have
gone out to play! Never mind,” she
said, “I’ll climb in through the window.”
Then the witch opened the door to her
guests, and once they were all seated, she
took the dish out of the oven and placed
it on the table. There was a great deal of
drinking and feasting, and then everyone
stretched out on the grass to enjoy the cool
evening air.
“Here I lie, so relaxed, nicely stuffed with
Alyoshka!” the witch sang to herself.
Fromhigh up in his oak, Alyoshka replied:
“Stretch out, take your ease…you’re nicely
stuffed with Oksana!”
The witch leaped up anxiously: “I thought
I heard a voice. It must have been the barn
door creaking.”
Then she went back to her song:
“Here I lie, so relaxed, nicely stuffed with
Alyoshka!”
But Alyoshka replied again: “Stretch out,
take your ease…but you’re nicely stuffed
with Oksana!”
Then the witch looked up and saw the
small boy perched in the oak. She rushed
at the tree, gnashing her teeth, and began to
gnaw at the trunk. But the tree was tough
and she left her two front teeth embedded
in the bark.
So the witch ran over to the blacksmith’s
forge: “Blacksmith, blacksmith, make me
some iron teeth at once or I’ll eat you up.”
The blacksmith made her two iron teeth.
The witch gnawed and gnawed and gnawed
at the oak, until it was about to collapse.
A
lyoshka was about to be captured
when he saw a flock of wild geese
high in the sky. He called out at the
top of his voice: “Wild geese, wild
geese, carry me on your wings to my mother
and my father and far, far fromBaba Yaga.”
The wild geese approached. A goose
plucked him up and threw him onto its
back. Soon they were setting him down at
home, in his garden.
T
hrough the windowAlyoshka smelled
the delicious aroma of pancakes, and
he heard his mother say: “Where
could he be, our little boy, our darling
Alyoshka? Come on, old man, let’s share his
pancakes between us, and perhaps they’ll
sweeten our suffering a little. One for you,
one for me…”
“And what about me?” cried Alyoshka.
“Who’s that calling?” asked his mother,
going to the window.
Alyoshka’s father and mother, delighted
to see their little boy, took him in their arms.
Baba Yaga was never heard from again,
and so here the story ends.
