Then all the princes and knights and the boyárs assembled together to fight the monster, and amongst them Dyád’ka. The horseherd sat on a pony and rode behind.

Then the Woodsprite came and met him, and said: “Where are you going, Iván Tsarévich?”

“To the war.”

“On this sorry nag you will not do much, and still less if you go in your present guise. Just come and visit me.”

He took him into his hut and gave him a glass of vodka. Then the King’s son drank it. “Do you feel strong?” asked the Woodsprite.

“If there were a log there fifty puds , I could throw it up and allow it to fall on my head without feeling the blow.”