an in that of _Vyed'ma_, that we
desire to study the behavior of the Russian equivalent for the
terrible female form which figures in the Anglo-Saxon poem as the
Mother of Grendel.

From among the numerous stories relating to the _Vyed'ma_ we may
select the following, which bears her name.

THE WITCH.[206]

There once lived an old couple who had one son called
Ivashko;[207] no one can tell how fond they were of him!

Well, one day, Ivashko said to his father and mother:

"I'll go out fishing if you'll let me."

"What are you thinking about! you're still very small; suppose
you get drowned, what good will there be in that?"

"No, no, I shan't get drowned. I'll catch you some fish;
do let me go!"

So his mother put a white shirt on him, tied a red girdle round
him, and let him go. Out in a boat he sat and said:

Canoe, canoe, float a little farther,
Canoe, canoe, float a little farther!

Then the canoe floated on farther and farther, and Ivashko began to
fish. When some little time had passed by, the old woman hobbled down
to the river side and called to her son:

Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,
Float up, float up, unto the waterside;
I bring thee food and drink.

And Ivashko said:

Canoe, canoe, float to the waterside;
That is my mother calling me.

The boat floated to the shore: the woman took the fish, gave her boy
food and drink, changed his shirt for him and his girdle, and sent him
back to his fishing. Again he sat in his boat and said:

Canoe, canoe, float a little farther,
Canoe, canoe, float a little farther.

Then the canoe floated on farther and farther, and Ivashko began to
fish. After a little time had passed by, the old man also hobbled down
to the bank and called to his son:

Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,
Float up, float up, unto the waterside;
I bring thee food and drink.

And Ivashko replied:

Canoe, canoe, float to the waterside;
That is my father calling me.

The canoe floated to the shore. The old man took the fish, gave his
boy food and drink, changed his shirt for him and his girdle, and sent
him back to his fishing.

Now a certain witch[208] had heard what Ivashko's parents had cried
aloud to him, and she longed to get hold of the boy. So she went down
to the bank and cried with a hoarse voice:

Ivashechko, Ivashechko, my boy,
Float up, float u