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Updated: September 26, 2025
"My stepmother has sent me to you to ask for a needle and thread to mend a shirt." "Very well," says Baba Yaga, smiling, and showing her iron teeth. "You sit down here at the loom, and go on with my weaving, while I go and get you the needle and thread." The little girl sat down at the loom and began to weave.
Even among the men of the logs, who are bad, one man stands alone as the archfiend of them all. And now it is possible, for he is a big man she, Wa-ha-ta-na-ta, the mother of Pierre and of Jeanne, maybe is permitted to stoop close and breathe upon the dead face of this man the weird curse of the barren lands almost forgotten, now, even among her own people the blighting curse of the "Yaga Tah!"
Then Niezguinek softly aroused his brothers, and they all went out without making any noise. Each mounted his horse, and when they had broken open the yard gate they made their escape at full speed. Old Yaga, thinking she heard footsteps, got up and ran into the room where her daughters lay dead.
And he read: "In a certain country within the house of old Yaga is a sword that strikes of its own accord: if the king would like to have it, I will engage to bring it him. "Certainly," said Niezguinek, "this writing resembles mine, but I never wrote those words." "Never mind, as you succeeded in bringing me the guzla you will find no difficulty in obtaining the sword.
"That's not the voice of my little dinner," says Baba Yaga, and she jumped into the hut, gnashing her iron teeth; and there was no little girl, but only the thin black cat, sitting at the loom, tangling and tangling the threads. "Grr," says Baba Yaga, and jumps for the cat, and begins banging it about. "Why didn't you tear the little girl's eyes out?"
He had been warned beforehand by his horse of the danger that threatened them, and now he got up quietly and changed the positions of the twenty-four beds, so that the brothers lay to the left side of the room, and Yaga's daughters to the right. At midnight, old Yaga cried out in a hoarse voice, "Guzla, play. Sword, strike."
On our part we were highly satisfied that we were rid of them so soon and, after they were gone, I imparted to my friend the information gleaned from Bobroff the evening before. The following evening we arrived at Khathyl, a small Russian settlement of ten scattered houses in the valley of the Egingol or Yaga, which here takes its waters from the Kosogol half a mile above the village.
Should my feet lag upon the Trail, Should my heart turn to Water, Should I forget So that in the time of my friend's need I answer not his call; Then, upon my head upon the heads of my children and their children Shall descend the Curse the Great Curse of the Yaga Tah! The Man-Who-Lies-Hid-in-the-Sky!" The quavering chant ceased, and the undimmed old eyes looked again into the face of the man.
It was set like a sapphire in the old gold of the surrounding hills, chased with lovely bits of rich dark forestry. At night we approached Khathyl with great precaution and stopped on the shore of the river that flows from Kosogol, the Yaga or Egingol. We found a Mongol who agreed to transport us to the other bank of the frozen stream and to lead us by a safe road between Khathyl and Muren Kure.
Doubtless; but I am not acquainted with it, as I do not read their language; but I know something of their popular tales, to which I used to listen in their izbushkas; a principal personage in these is a creation quite original called Baba Yaga. Myself. Who is the Baba Yaga? Hungarian.
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