So the old man was persuaded, and he showed the King, who instantly had the Woodsprite arrested and confined in a narrow tower. And in all the Woodsprite’s forests the King himself laid traps.

The Woodsprite-forester sat in his iron tower inside the royal garden, and looked out through the window. One day, the Tsarévich, with his nurses and attendants and very many faithful servant-maids, went into the garden to play. He passed the door, and the Woodsprite cried out to him: “Tsarévich, if you will set me free, I will later on help you.”

“How shall I do this?”

“Go to your mother and weep bitterly. Tell her: ‘Please, dear Mother, scratch my head.’ Lay your head on her lap. Wait for the proper instant, take the key of my tower out of her pocket, and set me free.”