in his knapsack, mounted his good horse and set out on his journey.
Whether the way was long or short, whether the Tzardom of Tzar Zmey was far or near, he came at length to its border. Here was a wide river on which an old ferryman plied back and forth. He rode aboard and crossed to the other side, when the ferryman asked: "Whither art thou faring, my friend?"
"I go to Tzar Zmey," he replied, "to ask of him money he owes my little father-in-law for rental of land on which he has built his Palace."
"Well," said the ferryman, "it will take a smart lad to get it. Wilt thou serve me a service with Tzar Zmey?"
"Gladly," answered Wassily.
"Then," said the ferryman, "when thou comest before him, if thou hast opportunity, remind him that now for thirty years he has condemned me to ferry people back and forth across this river. Ask of him, I pray thee, whether I shall have to labor thus for thirty years more, or if not, when I shall be free to go whither I will. Wilt thou do this for me?"
Wassily the Unlucky promised and resumed his journey, and before long he came to an arm of the
