managed more than ten, and night was coming on. Ivan was exhausted, and the steam rose from him and floated through the wood like a mist; yet still he would not give up. He felled another tree and his back began to ache so that he could not go on. He stuck his axe into the trunk of a tree and sat down to rest.
When the Devilkin realized that Ivan had ceased to work, he rejoiced.
"He is worn out at last," he thought; "now I can rest too." And he sat himself astride on a branch, exulting.
Ivan rose, took out his axe, flourished it aloft, and brought it down so heavily that the tree came down with a crash. The Devilkin had no time to disentangle his legs; the branch broke and pinned down his paw.
Ivan began to clear the tree and behold! there was a live Devilkin. Ivan was amazed.
"You horrid little wretch! You here again!:
" I am not the same one,": the Devilkin said. " I belong to your brother Taras."
"Whoever you may be, you shall share
