Shabarsha
Shall I amuse you with a tale? It’s a wonderful tale, full of marvels and wonders, and the farmhand Shabarsha is the trickiest of tricksters. Once he takes hold…
Shall I amuse you with a tale? It’s a wonderful tale, full of marvels and wonders, and the farmhand Shabarsha is the trickiest of tricksters. Once he takes hold of the harness, there’s nothing he cannot manage! Shabarsha went to work as a farmhand, but a hard year came: neither grain nor vegetables grew. His master brooded deeply. How could he shake off his troubles? What would they live on? Where could he find money?
“Ah, don’t fret, master!” Shabarsha told him. “Give it a day, and there’ll be bread and money!”
Shabarsha went to the mill dam. “Perhaps I’ll catch a fish,” he thought. “I’ll sell it, and there’s the money! But wait, I’ve no line for a fishing rod. Never mind, I’ll twist one now.” He begged a handful of hemp from the miller, sat on the bank and began twisting a fishing line.
He twisted and twisted, and out of the water jumped a boy in a black jacket and a red cap.
“Uncle! What are you doing here?” he asked.
“Twisting a rope.”
“What for?”
“I’m going to clear out the pond and drag you devils out of the water.”
“Oh, no! Wait a little. I’ll go and tell Grandfather.”
The little devil dived down, and Shabarsha went back to work.
“Just wait,” he thought. “I’ll play a trick on you damned creatures. You’ll bring me gold and silver.”
Shabarsha began to dig a pit. When it was ready, he set his cap over it, having cut out its crown.
“Shabarsha, Shabarsha! Grandfather says I should bargain with you. What will you take to leave us in the water?”
“Fill this little cap with gold and silver.”
The little devil dived into the water and came back.
“Grandfather says I must wrestle with you first.”
“Why, you little milk-drinker, how could you wrestle with me? You couldn’t even beat my middle brother Mishka.”
“Where is your Mishka?”
“Over there. Look, he’s resting under a bush in the ravine.”
“How shall I call him out?”
“Go up and hit him in the side. He’ll get up all by himself.”
The little devil went into the ravine, found the bear and struck him in the side with a club. Mishka reared up and squeezed the little devil until all his bones crackled. He barely escaped the bear’s paws and ran to the old water spirit.
“Well, Grandfather,” he said in fright, “Shabarsha has a middle brother called Mishka. He began wrestling with me, and my bones crackled! What would have happened if Shabarsha himself had wrestled me?”
“Hm! Go and try a race with Shabarsha. See who can outrun whom.”
The boy in the red cap was soon beside Shabarsha again. He passed on his grandfather’s words, and Shabarsha answered:
“How could you race against me? Even my little brother Zainka would leave you far behind!”
“Where is your brother Zainka?”
“Over there, lying in the grass for a rest. Go up and touch his ear, and he’ll race you!”
The little devil ran up to Zainka and touched his ear. The hare shot off, and the little devil tried to follow.
“Wait, wait, Zainka! Let me catch up… Oh, he’s gone!”
“Well, Grandfather,” he told the water spirit, “I set off at a fine pace. But what good was that? He wouldn’t even let me draw level! And it wasn’t Shabarsha himself running, only his little brother!”
“Hm!” the old one grumbled, frowning. “Go to Shabarsha and see which of you can whistle louder.”
“Shabarsha, Shabarsha! Grandfather says we should see which of us can whistle louder.”
“Well, you whistle first.”
The little devil whistled so loudly that Shabarsha could barely stay on his feet, and leaves showered down from the trees.
“You whistle well,” said Shabarsha, “but not as I do! When I whistle, you won’t be able to stand, and your ears won’t bear it. Lie face down on the ground and stop your ears with your fingers.”
The little devil lay face down and put his fingers in his ears. Shabarsha took a club and struck him across the neck with all his might, whistling, “Whew, whew, whew!”
“Oh, Grandfather, Grandfather! Shabarsha whistled so hard that I saw sparks! I could barely get up, and every bone in my neck and lower back feels broken!”
“Oh ho! You’re not so strong, little devil! Go and fetch my iron club from the reeds. See which of you can throw it higher into the air.”
The little devil fetched the club, heaved it onto his shoulder and went to Shabarsha.
“Well, Shabarsha, Grandfather says we should try one last contest: which of us can throw this club higher into the air?”
“You throw first, and I’ll watch.”
The little devil threw the club. Up and up it flew, until it was only a black speck in the sky! They waited a long time for it to fall back to earth. Shabarsha picked it up. It was heavy! He rested it on the end of his foot, steadied it with his palm and stared into the sky.
“Why don’t you throw it? What are you waiting for?” asked the little devil.
“I’m waiting for that cloud to come closer. I’ll throw the club onto it. My brother the blacksmith is sitting there, and he can use the iron for his work.”
“Oh, no, Shabarsha! Don’t throw the club onto the cloud, or Grandfather will be angry!”
The little devil snatched the club and dived down to his grandfather.
When Grandfather heard that Shabarsha had nearly thrown his club away, he was badly frightened. He ordered the little devil to bring money from the deep pool and buy him off. The little devil carried and carried. He had brought a great deal, but the cap was still not full!
“Grandfather, Shabarsha’s cap is a wonder! I’ve put all the money into it, and it’s still empty. There’s only your last little chest left.”
“Bring that too, quickly! Is he still twisting the rope?”
“He is, Grandfather!”
“There you are!”
There was nothing else to do. The little devil opened his grandfather’s treasured chest and poured its contents into Shabarsha’s cap. He poured and poured, and at last it was full! From that day on, the farmhand lived splendidly. I was invited to drink mead and beer with him, but I didn’t go: they said the mead was bitter and the beer was cloudy. How could such a thing have happened?