The sky grew red and gold, and the sun rose.  Suddenly there was a noise in the forest round the field.  The trees shook and swayed, and almost fell.  There was a mighty wind.  The sea piled itself into waves with crests of foam, and the fire-bird came flying from the other side of the world.  Huge and golden and flaming in the sun, it flew, dropped down with open wings into the field, and began to eat the maize.

The horse of power wandered in the field.  This way he went, and that, but always he came a little nearer to the fire-bird.  Nearer and nearer came the horse.  He came close up to the fire-bird, and then suddenly stepped on one of its spreading fiery wings and pressed it heavily to the ground.  The bird struggled, flapping mightily with its fiery wings, but it could not get away.  The young archer slipped down from the tree, bound the fire-bird with three strong ropes, swung it on his back, saddled the horse, and rode to the palace of the Tzar.

The young archer stood before the Tzar, and his back was bent under the great weight of the fire-bird, and the broad wings of the bird hung on either side of him like fiery shields, and there was a trail of golden feathers on the floor.  The young archer swung the magic bird to the foot of the throne before the Tzar; and the Tzar was glad, because since the beginning of the world no Tzar had seen the fire-bird flung before him like a wild duck caught in a snare.

The Tzar looked at the fire-bird and laughed with pride.  Then he lifted his eyes and looked at the young archer, and says he,—­

“As you have known how to take the fire-bird, you will know how to bring me my bride, for whom I have long been waiting.  In the land of Never, on the very edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the sea, lives the Princess Vasilissa.  I will marry none but her.  Bring her to me, and I will reward you with silver and gold.  But if you do not bring her, then, by my sword, your head will no longer sit between your shoulders!”

The young archer wept bitter tears, and went out into the courtyard, where the horse of power was, stamping the ground with its hoofs of iron and tossing its thick mane.

“Master, why do you weep?” asked the horse of power.

“The Tzar has ordered me to go to the land of Never, and to bring back the Princess Vasilissa.”

“Do not weep—­do not grieve.  The trouble is not yet; the trouble is to come.  Go to the Tzar and ask him for a silver tent with a golden roof, and for all kinds of food and drink to take with us on the journey.”

The young archer went in and asked the Tzar for this, and the Tzar gave him a silver tent with silver hangings and a gold-embroidered roof, and every kind of rich wine and the tastiest of foods.

Then the young archer mounted the horse of power and rode off to the land of Never.  On and on he rode, many days and nights, and came at last to the edge of the world, where the red sun rises in flame from behind the deep blue sea.