Vasilisa the Fair

Baba Yaga, the wicked witch from Russian and Slavic lore, was feared by all as she ate humans, especially little children, and lined her fence with the skulls of those she ate. Those who came to her little hut seeking favours seldom returned alive.

A very long time ago in Russia lived an elderly couple who had a young and beautiful daughter named Vasilisa. Sadly for Vasilisa, her mother fell terribly ill and it looked as though the end was near.

As Vasilisa sat weeping by her mother’s bedside, her mother took a little wooden doll and placed it in her hands. ‘Do not cry, my little one! This doll, which my mother gave me, will take good care of you when I’m gone. Whenever you’re troubled, find someplace quiet and give her something to eat. She will always guide and help you. Make sure you don’t let anybody see her.’ Soon, her mother passed away.

Vasilisa’s father was a merchant and was often away from home for many days. He decided to marry again so that his daughter would not be left alone. In their village lived a widow Lilliya who had two daughters of her own. Vasilisa’s father got some really bad advice from some not-so-well-meaning people and married this woman. Lilliya was very bad-tempered and hated the very sight of the slender and fair Vasilisa as both her daughters were stout and ugly. It didn’t help that they had unpleasant dispositions either. But they pretended to be very affectionate towards Vasilisa in her father’s presence.

Shortly afterwards, Vasilisa’s father left on one of his long journeys. Once he was gone, Lilliya showed her true colours. She made Vasilisa do all the work in the house—the cleaning, washing and cooking. Envious of her pale beauty, she made her work in the fields all day, hoping the sun would burn her skin and make it rough.

But remember, Vasilisa had her mama’s doll. She would go off quietly somewhere, take the doll out of her pocket and give it something to eat. The doll’s eyes would begin to shine and it would become almost human. The doll would then go about doing all the chores, while Vasilisa rested under a tree or picked flowers. The doll would even collect herbs and make sunscreen for her so that her pale beauty would be protected from the harsh sunlight.

The stepmother gave Vasilisa scraps to eat and it angered her further that the girl was growing more beautiful and healthy every day while she and her daughters became even scrawnier and uglier, despite eating well.

Poor Vasilisa! She missed her dear mother and now her father who showed no signs of returning. She would weep in her room every night and feed her doll whatever little food she was given.

‘Do not be sad, Vasilisa, for the morning is always wiser than the evening. Forget your troubles and go to sleep for tomorrow will be much better,’ the doll would tell her. Somehow, these words always brought her comfort.

One day, Lilliya announced that they were going to move to a house at the edge of the birch forest. This was part of Lilliya’s wicked plan, of course, for in that forest lived Baba Yaga, the wicked witch. The witch was known to eat humans and Lilliya planned to send Vasilisa to her. ‘We don’t have any money left and your father doesn’t seem to be coming back,’ she told the girl. ‘All we can afford now is a little house by the birch forest.’

So they moved to an old run-down cottage near the birch forest, far, far away from the village. Nobody lived around there for miles, for everybody feared Baba Yaga. Every day, her stepmother would send Vasilisa to the forest to collect wood in the hope that the witch would catch her. But it never happened. Thanks to the little wooden doll, Vasilisa was safe. So Lilliya came up with another diabolical plan.

One night, the mother gave the three girls some work to do. The eldest daughter was sewing, the second was knitting socks and Vasilisa was spinning yarn. Only a thin birch branch burnt in the fireplace on that dark winter’s night.

‘You will have to make do with just this, my dears, as we don’t have any wood left,’ Lilliya told the girls and her daughters hid their smiles. Soon, the already weak light died out.

‘Oh no! What will we do now? Someone has to go to Baba Yaga’s house and get some wood. Which one of you will go?’ Lilliya asked slyly.

‘Oh, I’m not going, I can still see my needle,’ said the eldest. ‘And I’m not going as I can see my needle too,’ said the second girl promptly for they had rehearsed these answers already. So Vasilisa was sent out into the inky blackness of the night to get wood from Baba Yaga.

Outside the cottage, the poor girl shivered in cold and fright. A powerful wind roared menacingly through the birch forest. She took her wooden doll out of her pocket and fed her a piece of bread that she had saved from dinner.

‘What can I do now, little doll? How will I find my way to Baba Yaga’s house? She eats everybody like chicken! All that is left of the people who go to her are the bones that she spits out!’

‘Don’t be afraid, Vasilisa! No harm will befall you as long as I’m with you. We’ll go and get that light,’ said the doll. There was no moon in the sky and even the stars forgot to shine that night. Clutching the doll to her chest, Vasilisa walked blindly through the dark forest, unsure of even where she was going.

As she went deeper and deeper inside, she stumbled on tree roots and twigs that littered the ground beneath her. There was such a wind that blew everything and the branches were flaying about this way and that.

After what seemed like the longest time, Vasilisa saw a white horse that went by like a bolt of silver lightning as if keeping pace with the wild wind. The rider was clad in white—coat, breeches, boots and all. His face, on what she glimpsed of it, appeared just as pale. Who could that be, she wondered. Shortly after, dawn appeared and the sky slowly lit up, a shade of white.

Grateful for the light, Vasilisa walked on and before long, another horseman passed her by. He was dressed in red and his stallion was the same colour. And as he whizzed past, she noted he was red-faced too. Then the sky began to turn a shade of red as the sun rose and began his march across the sky. Vasilisa stopped shivering as the dew lifted off the silvery leaves and she was warm again. The doll was silent as she had nothing to feed her.

Vasilisa walked the entire day but there was still no sign of Baba Yaga’s house. When dusk fell, she came upon a clearing in the forest and in the middle of it was a very strange sight. A little hut stood on what appeared to be giant chicken legs and it was spinning round and round like a top! There was a rather macabre fence surrounding the hut, all made of bones, most definitely human, and atop these were skulls with spooky eye sockets. The gate was made of human bones, too, and the lock on it was made of a jaw with razor-sharp teeth.

So this was Baba Yaga’s house. Vasilisa’s first instinct was to run and escape before she was seen by the dreaded witch but her legs stood stubbornly rooted to the ground.

Just then, she saw a black stallion galloping towards the hut, the horseman dressed all in black and Vasilisa knew his face would be as dark. The horse galloped all the way to the gate and then disappeared into thin air along with the rider. And with that, darkness fell and dusk turned to night.

All of a sudden, the earth began to shake violently and Vasilisa thought she would fall in if ever it parted. She stood clutching the fence for support but let go in shock as eerie light shone from the eye sockets of the skulls, casting a glow all around.

A tornado appeared out of nowhere and there she was—Baba Yaga riding on her mortar, brandishing a pestle in her right hand and sweeping with a broom in her left! Upon reaching her gate, the dreaded witch sniffed hard with her long, long nose. ‘Ah . . . I smell a Russian’s flesh! Come out wherever you are.’

At this, Vasilisa approached and bowed respectfully. ‘Please, Grandma, I’m Vasilisa. My stepmother Lilliya asked me to come here and ask you for a light.’

Baba Yaga looked at her closely. ‘Let’s see, now. Lilliya is a relative of mine. Come in and spend some time working for me, girl, and we’ll see what can be done about that light you seek,’ said Baba Yaga and turned to the gate before them.

‘Open wide, my tall gates. Unlock, my solid lock!’ thundered Baba Yaga. The grinning jaw, which was the lock, unlocked itself and the bony gates opened, creaking loudly. Vasilisa followed the witch towards the hut, which was still spinning on its chicken legs. ‘Stop spinning, hut! Show me the front door!’ croaked the old witch and the hut stopped obediently.

As soon as they entered, Baba Yaga threw herself down beside the stove. ‘Go girl, get me all the food from the oven! I’m so hungry!’ Vasilisa looked around quickly and found the oven. There was a lot of food in there—a whole cow, twenty geese and ten chickens, all roasted and ready! She also found barrels of mead, kvass and red wine. She brought them over to the witch, who devoured it all very fast, cracking the bones loudly with her frightful iron teeth. Then she noisily drank from the giant barrels, finishing each in a couple of gulps. Some of the liquid dribbled down her long, crooked chin and she wiped it off. Her meal over, she turned to Vasilisa. ‘There is a crust of bread and some leftover cabbage soup for you. And tomorrow you shall begin work. Cook my dinner, clean my yard and see that sack of wheat there? Pick out each grain, one by one, and remove all the black ones. By evening you shall have cleaned it. If I see a single black grain, I shall eat you for supper!’

And then she climbed on to the stove and went to sleep. Vasilisa was shocked. The stove was so hot. How could she sleep on it? But Baba Yaga had no such worries. Very soon, she was snoring loudly and her long nose was going up and down, almost touching the ceiling.

Vasilisa stepped out through the back door and took her doll out of her pocket. She fed it the crust of bread she had and the doll’s eyes shone with life once more.

‘My little one, what do I do? I can’t finish these chores in a day for sure. Have you seen the size of that sack of grain? She will surely eat me tomorrow!’

‘Do not worry, Vasilisa,’ said the doll, ‘for I will take care of everything. Say your prayers and go to sleep now and remember, the morning is always wiser than the evening.’

Slipping the doll back in her pocket, Vasilisa returned to the hut. She said her prayers and curled up in a far corner from the stove. Very soon, she was fast asleep.