Once upon a time there was a prince who married a beautiful princess. He’d hardly had time to look at her or listen to her or say more than two or three of the thousand things he had to say to her, when he was called to go on a journey. He had to leave his wife in the hands of people who hardly knew her. There wasn’t anything he could do about it. As they say, a man and woman can’t spend their whole lives hand-in-hand.

The princess cried and cried. The prince gave her lots of wise advice. He told her not to come down from her tower, not to talk with strangers, and not to listen to flattery. The princess crossed her heart and promised to do as he said. Then they said good-bye. The princess locked herself up in her room. For months she never said a word to a soul.

One day, just before the prince was due back, an old woman came past down below. She had big, soft eyes and a kind, gentle face. That’s what the princess thought. Really she was an evil witch, and she wanted to be a princess herself.

“You must be feeling very bored up there,” said the witch. “Why don’t you come down for a breath of fresh air? We could go for a walk in the garden. That’ll blow your cobwebs away.”

At first the princess tried to make excuses. The witch insisted. Then the princess gave in. The garden looked so fresh and green and cool.

“A little walk in such a beautiful garden can’t really do me any harm,” she thought to herself.

In the garden there was a beautiful spring. The water was like crystal.

“It’s so hot,” said the witch. “The water looks good. Let’s go for a swim!”

“No, no!” said the princess. Then she looked again at the cool, clear water.

“A quick dip in such beautiful water can’t really do me any harm,” she said to herself. She took off her dress and jumped in.

The witch reached out over the water and tapped the princess on the back.

“If you’re so fond of swimming,” she chuckled, ‘‘you should become a duck.”

The princess turned into a duck. She swam round and round the pond, quacking at the top of her voice.

The witch turned herself into the very image of the princess, put on her dress and jewels, and went upstairs to wait for the prince. After awhile the dog barked, and the bell began to ring. The witch rushed downstairs and threw herself into the prince’s arms, and the prince didn’t notice that anything was wrong.

The white duck laid three eggs and gave birth to three ducklings. The first two were strong and healthy, but the third was a weak, sickly little thing. She took good care of all three of them. In a few weeks they'd learnt how to catch goldfish, how to gather up little bits of cloth and sew themselves beautiful coats, and how to jump up onto the bank and go wandering over the meadows.

“Don’t go so far away!” the mother kept telling them. “It’s dangerous.”

The three ducklings didn’t listen. One day they played about on the bank. The next day they played in the prince’s garden. The third day they went right into the courtyard.

The witch knew who they were. She scowled to herself and gnashed her teeth. Then she put on her softest, gentlest voice and called them after her. She gave them something to eat and drink and put them to bed. After that she went down to the kitchen and told her servants to light the fire, boil the water, and sharpen their knives.

The two strong brothers went straight to sleep. The little weedy one felt too cold. Usually his brothers let him sleep under their wings, but this time they didn’t think of it.”

Towards midnight the witch crept up to the door.

“Little ones, are you asleep yet?”

She heard a little voice answer:

“We're asleep, and we’re not asleep.

We've been dreaming a strange dream.

We thought we were being killed,

That the fire was already burning,

That copper saucepans were already steaming,

That steel knives were already sharpened.”

The witch went away. In a cupboard she had the hand of a corpse. If she held it over anyone who was asleep, they would never wake up. But if they were still awake, it wouldn’t work.

An hour later she came back again.

“Little ones, are you asleep yet?”

“We're asleep and we’re not asleep.

We've been dreaming a strange dream.

We thought we were being killed,

That the fire was already burning,

That copper saucepans were already steaming,

That steel knives were already sharpened.”

“Why is there only one voice?” thought the witch. She opened the door and looked in. The two strong brothers were fast asleep. She held the corpse’s hand over them, and they died. The little weedy one froze to death an hour later.

In the morning the mother duck called for her ducklings, but no one came. She guessed what had happened and flew straight to the courtyard.

Her children were lying trussed up in a row, as white as handkerchiefs and as cold as stones. She spread out her wings over them and began to lament:

“Krya-krya, little children,

Quack-quack, my darlings.

I didn’t sleep at night.

I gave you my own tears to drink.

I gave you the sweetest fish to eat.

I cared for your every need.”

“Listen, wife! There’s a duck outside that knows how to talk.”

“What’s the matter with you, husband? You must be dreaming. The duck shouldn’t be there anyway. Have it driven away.”

The prince called one of his servants to go and drive the duck away. If just flew straight back again and started singing:

“Krya-krya, little children,

Quack-quack, my darlings.

An old witch, a cruel snake,

An evil witch has killed you.

She took you away from your father.

She took you away from my husband.

She turned us into white ducks.

She strutted about the palace

While we swam round the pond.”

“Hmm!” thought the prince. “I wonder what all this is about.”

He sent two of his servants to go and catch the duck. It always kept just out of reach. Then the prince went and tried himself. The duck flew straight into his hand.

He held the duck by the wing. The witch turned her into a spindle. The prince snapped the spindle in two, threw one half over his shoulder, the other half in front of him and said:

“Be a silver birch behind me! Be a beautiful girl before me!”

A silver birch sprang up behind him and a beautiful girl appeared before him. It was his princess. She embraced him and told him her story.

Then they thought how they might bring their children to life. They caught a magpie, tied two little vials to its legs and told it to fetch living water in one and talking water in the other. The magpie did as they said. They sprinkled the ducklings with living water, and the little ones opened their eyes. They sprinkled them with talking water, and they began to talk. Then they turned into three little boys.

Mother, father, and the three boys lived happily together ever after.

As for the witch, they had her tied between the tails of two horses and dragged over the fields. Her legs broke off and turned into shovels. Her arms broke off and turned into rakes. Her head broke off and turned into an old stump. Flocks of birds swooped down and pecked at her flesh. Fierce winds snatched up her bones and carried them away. Not a trace, not a memory, was left of her.

Illustrations by:

I. Bilibin, 1902