tested the blades for a month, till he had picked the keenest and the strongest; then he bade the stable grooms collect all the Tzar's stud-horses and drive them to the blue sea-ocean, and watched to see what they would do. One swam far out and began to wrestle with the waves till the water boiled and dashed against the shore as in a tempest, and him Tzarevich Petr chose. He took his father's blessing, girded on the keen sword, and mounting the horse, set out.
He rode for a day and a night, for a week, for one month and for three. He passed the quagmire and the fiery desert, and at the edge of the forest, in the plot of wild hemp and briar, met the little old man and the little old woman sitting on two stones. He told them of his errand and the gray-beard said: "Thou hast a keen sword and the horse of a hero, but all the same thou wilt not get to Kastchey."
"Why not?" asked the Tzarevich.
"Because," replied the other, "thou must first pass three rivers. At each river is a ferry, and the price each ferryman asks is a great one, for the first will strike off thy right hand, the second thy left foot, and the third thy head."
"Well," answered Tzarevich Petr, "a man can
