the ferryman drew his sword and struck off his left foot, and Tzarevich Dimitry rode on.
He went one day, and two, and three, and came to the third river, on whose bank stood a ferryman as tall as a tower, with legs like buttresses, clad all in golden armor and with a face so fierce and terrible that the Tzarevich's courage died within him. So he turned his horse about and in mortal fear spurred back the way he had come to his own Tzardom. There, coming before his father, he said:
"Gracious Sir! I have wandered these many months through strange lands, till there is left not one of the great army I took with me. As for me, I have, as thou seest, lost my right hand and my left foot, but I found no sign of the Wizard or of my little mother, the Tzaritza!"
Tzar Bel-Belianin kissed him and grieved over him and then, sending for his youngest son, bade him also take what he required and go and search.
"I have need of neither gold nor army, little father," said Tzarevich Petr. "Give me only a horse of my own choosing and a sword fit for a hero."
His father bade him choose the best blade from his armory and the finest steed in his stables. Tzarevich Petr went to the armory accordingly and
