Iván ran away, and he found Vertogór, who had only one mountain left. So Iván Tsarévich took his brush, and threw it into the open field. And suddenly mountains grew up everywhere, and their summits and peaks pierced into the skies, and there were so many of them that no man could count them. Vertogór was then very happy and set about work gaily.

Iván Tsarévich met Vertodúb once more, and there were only three oaks left. So he threw the comb into the field, and then there rustled out of the earth a thick oak forest, every tree thicker than the other. And Vertodúb was then very joyous and set to work gaily.

And at last, after a journey long or short, Iván Tsarévich reached the old women, and he gave each of them an apple. They ate them, and they once more became young, and gave him a little handkerchief, which he need only shake, and a big lake would appear.

When Iván Tsarévich came home, his sister ran to him and caressed him. “Sit down, brother mine; play on the harp whilst I go and prepare dinner.”