hillock. Then Yaroslav rode round
this army, and cried with a loud voice: "Is there not here one living
man?" And the Knight's head said: "Yaroslav Lasarevich, whom seekest
thou?" At this Yaroslav marvelled greatly; but the Head spoke again:
"Wonder not, but tell me whither thou ridest, and what thou seekest."
Then Yaroslav asked: "But who art thou? In what kingdom dost thou
dwell, and who are thy father and mother?" And the Head answered: "I
am a knight of the Sadonic kingdom, son of the Tsar Prochos, and my
name is Raslanei." And Yaroslav said: "Whose armies lie here slain?"
"These hosts belong to the Tsar Fireshield," replied Raslanei, "and a
year has not passed since I came here and slew them. The cause of the
war was that the Tsar had seized upon towns belonging to my father.
But tell me, Yaroslav, how far are you journeying?" Then said
Yaroslav: "I am riding to the city of Shtchetin to slay the Tsar
Fireshield." But the Head answered: "Sooner will you be slain
yourself! I was indeed a powerful knight, feared by all Tsars and
knights; at my birth I was six feet tall, and as stout as a man could
compass. When I was ten years old no wild beast, no man on foot, or
knight on horse, could stand before me. Now you see how I am grown: my
body is sixty feet long, twelve feet between the shoulders, and a
feathered shaft can lie between my eyebrows. My head is as big as a
brewer's vat; my arms are twenty feet long, and I could not stand my
ground against the Tsar. The Tsar is strong, and has a mighty host;
sword and scimitar wound him not; fire does not burn, water does not
drown him. Yet I have a sword which can wound him, but unluckily I
could not wield it, and he struck me down. Nevertheless, I will do you
good service, and give you counsel; when you come to the city of
Shtchetin and the Tsar Fireshield sees and questions you, answer that
you desire to serve him. Then he will bid you follow him; do so, and
serve him faithfully, and when he goes out to the chase, accompany
him. Then remind him of me, and he will grow sad, but tell him you can
get the sword which lies under my head. He will not believe you, but
pledge your word, and as soon as you can, come to me, I will lift my
head and give you the sword."

Then Yaroslav made his bow, mounted his steed and rode to Shtchetin;
and, as he approached the city, the Tsar perceived and accosted him.
Yaroslav dismounted, and falling with his face to the ground, said:
"Long years