But, although Chufíl-Fílyushka was small, he was no fool! He stuffed her at once into the oven, and shut the oven door with a bang.

About two or three hours later Fílyushka smelt a smell of good roast meat, opened the door, and took out the daughter of the Yagá-Búra well cooked; buttered it over, put it into the frying-pan and covered it with a towel, and put it into the bunk; then he climbed up to the rooftree and took away the business-day pestle and mortar of the Yagá-Búra.

About evening time, the Yagá-Búra came in, went straight to the bunk and took the roast meat out; ate it all up, collected all the bones, laid them out on the ground in rows, and began to roll on them. But somehow she could not find her daughter, and thought she had gone away to another cottage to weave. But suddenly, whilst she was rolling, she said, “My dear daughter, do come to me and help me roll Fílyushka’s little bones!”

Then Fílyushka cried out from the rafters: “Roll away, mother, and stand on your daughter’s little bones!”