[Pg 39] Late in the evening the pope dragged the goat indoors, killed it, and took off its skin--horns, beard, and all complete. Thenhe pulled the goat's skin over himself and said to his wife:
"Bring a needle and thread, mother, and fasten up the skin all round, so that it mayn't slip off."
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So she took a strong needle, and some tough thread, and sewed him up in the goatskin. Well, at the dead of night, the pope went straight to the old man's cottage, got under the window, and began knocking and scratching. The old man hearing the noise, jumped up and asked:
"Who's there?"
"The Devil!"
"Ours is a holy spot![34]" shrieked the moujik, and began crossing himself and uttering prayers.
"Listen, old man," says the pope, "From me thou will not escape, although thou may'st pray, although thou may'st cross thyself; much better give me back my pot of money, otherwise I will make thee pay for it. See now, I pitied thee in thy misfortune, and I showed thee the treasure, thinking thou wouldst take a little of it to pay for the funeral, but thou hast pillaged it utterly."
The old man looked out of window--the goat's horns and beard caught his eye--it was the Devil himself, no doubt of it.
"Let's get rid of him, money and all," thinks the old man; "I've lived before now without money, and now I'll go on living without it."
So he took the pot of gold, carried it outside, flung it on the ground, and bolted indoors again as quickly as possible.
The pope seized the pot of money, and hastened home. When he got back, "Come," says he, "the money is in our hands now. Here,
mother, put it well out of sight, and take a sharp knife, cut the thread, and pull the goatskin off me before anyone sees it." She took a knife, and was beginning to cut the thread at the seam, when forth flowed blood, and the pope began to howl: [Pg 40] "Oh! it hurts, mother, it hurts! don't cut mother, don't cut!"
She began ripping the skin open in another place, but with just the same result. The goatskin had united with his body all round. And all that they tried, and all that they did, even to taking the money back to the old man, was of no avail. The goatskin remained cling-ing tight to the pope all the same. God evidently did it to punish him for his great greediness.
A somewhat less heathenish story with regard to money is the following, which may be taken as a specimen of the Skazkas which bear the impress of the genuine reverence which the peasants feel for their religion, whatever may be the feelings they entertain towards its ministers. While alluding to this subject, by the way, it may be as well to remark that no great reliance can be placed upon the evidence contained in the folk-tales of any land, with respect to the relations between its clergy and their flocks. The local parson of folk-lore is, as a general rule, merely the innocent inheritor of the bad reputation acquired by some ecclesiastic of another age and clime.
The Cross-Surety.[35]
Once upon a time two merchants lived in a certain town just on the verge of a stream. One of them was a Russian, the other a Tartar; both were rich. But the Russian got so utterly ruined by some business or other that he hadn't a single bit of property left. Everything he had was confiscated or stolen. The Russian merchant had nothing to turn to--he was left as poor as a rat.[36] So he went to his friend the Tartar, and besought him to lend him some money.
"Get me a surety," says the Tartar.
"But whom can I get for you, seeing that I haven't a soul [Pg 41] belonging to me? Stay, though! there's a surety for you, the life-giving cross on the church!"
"Very good, my friend!" says the Tartar. "I'll trust your cross. Your faith or ours, it's all one to me."
And he gave the Russian merchant fifty thousand roubles. The Russian took the money, bade the Tartar farewell, and went back to
trade in divers places.
By the end of two years he had gained a hundred and fifty thousand roubles by the fifty thousand he had borrowed. Now he happened to be sailing one day along the Danube, going with wares from one place to another, when all of a sudden a storm arose,
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and was on the point of sinking the ship he was in. Then the merchant remembered how he had borrowed money, and given the
life-giving cross as a surety, but had not paid his debt. That was doubtless the cause of the storm arising! No sooner had he said this to himself than the storm began to subside. The merchant took a barrel, counted out fifty thousand roubles, wrote the Tartar a note, placed it, together with the money, in the barrel, and then flung the barrel into the water, saying to himself: "As I gave the cross as
my surety to the Tartar, the money will be certain to reach him."
The barrel straightway sank to the bottom; everyone supposed the money was lost. But what happened? In the Tartar's house there lived a Russian kitchen-maid. One day she happened to go to the river for water, and when she got there she saw a barrel floating along. So she went a little way into the water and began trying to get hold of it. But it wasn't to be done! When she made at the bar-rel, it retreated from her: when she turned from the barrel to the shore, it floated after her. She went on trying and trying for some time, then she went home and told her master all that had happened. At first he wouldn't believe her, but at last he determined to
go to the river and see for himself what sort of barrel it was that was floating there. When he got there--sure enough there was the
barrel floating, and not far from the shore. The Tartar took off his clothes and went into the water; before he had gone any [Pg 42] distance the barrel came floating up to him of its own accord. He laid hold of it, carried it home, opened it, and looked inside. There he saw a quantity of money, and on top of the money a note. He took out the note and read it, and this is what was said in it:--
"Dear friend! I return to you the fifty thousand roubles for which, when I borrowed them from you, I gave the life-giving cross as a
surety."
The Tartar read these words and was astounded at the power of the life-giving cross. He counted the money over to see whether the full sum was really there. It was there exactly.
Meanwhile, the Russian merchant, after trading some five years, made a tolerable fortune. Well, he returned to his old home, and, thinking that his barrel had been lost, he considered it his first duty to settle with the Tartar. So he went to his house and offered him the money he had borrowed. Then the Tartar told him all that had happened and how he had found the barrel in the river, with the money and the note inside it. Then he showed him the note, saying:
"Is that really your hand?"
"It certainly is," replied the other.
Every one was astounded at this wondrous manifestation, and the Tartar said: "Then I've no more money to receive from you, brother; take that back again."
The Russian merchant had a service performed as a thank-offering to God, and next day the Tartar was baptized with all his house-
hold. The Russian merchant was his godfather, and the kitchen-maid his godmother. After that they both lived long and happily,
survived to a great age, and then died peacefully.[37]
