Prince Svyatoslav lived for ninety years. Rich and wise, glorified by exploits, bowing many enemies under the sword, before the death, his last enemy, could not resist - he died. And there remained after him a small child Volga Svyatoslavovich ...
They say he was born at the very moment when the sun hid behind the mountain. As the last beam went out, the first cry of the baby was heard. They bathed him in a silver tub - frequent stars scattered across the sky. The nurse-slave gave breasts - a clear month was born ...
Under the mountain, the mighty river calmly rolled its waves.
Animals and birds and fish were worried - it was a very dark night. They felt that a difficult baby was born.
The baby quickly grew out of diapers. When he took the first steps, somewhere far, far away, blue mountains swayed, the seas splashed out of their banks, oak groves fell like reeds. Volga Svyatoslavovich grew up. Sometimes he was mischievous - he threw stones from the window. Then the frightened animals scattered in the forests, the birds scattered under the clouds, the fish went into the dark depths.
The bow of Prince Svyatoslav hung on the wall for a long time, became dusty - there was no such strongman in the prince's chamber that he could bend this bow and throw a bowstring over it. This somehow happened by itself with the young prince. Volga woke up in the middle of the night, got bored - he drove back and forth with his eyes, looking for entertainment. Then he took off his father's bow from the wall, pulled the bowstring and pulled it tight. The string sang loudly. The kid laughed, hearing this singing ...
The nurse, waking up, rubbed her eyes - she could not believe her eyes. Quietly called the princess and all the household.
Both old and young marveled at this baby. And they marveled at his strength, and at his entertainment. But nothing special was heard in the singing of the bowstring. Therefore, they could not understand: what amused Volga so much?
Until the age of five, the prince grew up with nannies. No science, no wisdom. Young Volga surprised the nannies. I didn’t listen to fairy tales about kings and princes - I asked for everything about hunters. He didn’t play with toys, but played with deer horns, then with boar fangs, then with horse moths, then with a fish’s eye, then with an outlandish tortoise shell. In the garden, he listened attentively to the birds, tilted his head to one side - as if he understood the chirping. Sparrows chirp - Volga smiles; the raven croaks - the prince is angry; the cranes fly away in autumn, cooing under the clouds - Volga is sad.
As young Svyatoslavovich grew up, as his mind grew a little stronger, the princess gave him up for teaching. Reading and writing - it was difficult for Volga. But, sharp-witted from birth, he soon caught the essence of letters, filled the alphabet with images that were understandable to him: in some initial letter he saw a heron, in some beetle, there - a snake, there - a bull or a cunning fox. The account was easier to master: he did not count a faceless number, but hares in the field, cranes in the sky, bullfinches in the snow, fish in a net. And as there were plenty of animals and birds and fish all around, one might say, without counting, then a very large number was given to little Volga.
But another science, cunning wisdom attracted the young prince more: he easily comprehended languages. However, not the languages ​​that I heard from people - Turks, Litvins, Varangians, white-eyed Chud and others - but the languages ​​of animals and birds. He studied in the garden, in the dense forest, in the open field. He talked to wolves, called to one another with falcons; he easily answered the mighty call of the tour, used to growl like a bear, and a minute later he chirped like a titmouse.
Volga was friends with the Magi. I understood their pagan letters better than Greek and Latin letters. He learned magic in the forests.
And the shooter was excellent! He shot down three geese with one arrow. By the age of twelve, he used to hunt a bear with a knife - any hunter could envy Volga's dexterity. And the prince snatched the fish from the river with his hand - he amused himself.
He promised to become a hunter unsurpassed!
But this is not the case - the future prince is completely engaged in hunting! He must become a ruler and a warrior.
At one time, this interest also came to Volga. At the age of twelve, the prince decided to recruit a squad for himself. And he gathered a brave squad - thirty young heroes without a single one. He himself became this thirtieth.
Well done to him were at least where! Even for a princely feast, even for a fun party, even for falconry or with dogs, even for an evil battle, even for fire and water. But Volga was the best among them!..
Volga Svyatoslavovich once said to his heroes:
- You listen to me, your governor, brave squad! Do what I tell you to do. I want to see what you are good for, what business you are more capable of!
Young heroes surrounded the prince, they listen.
Volga says:
- Twist you silk ropes and more authentically. And put the ropes in the dark forest. Place above the ground. Catch, hunters, any wild animal: catch martens, and foxes, and beautiful black sables, and long-legged bunnies. Catch three days and three nights. Whatever you catch, bring it to me.
The young heroes dispersed through the forests, did as they were ordered. They wound silk ropes, tied them in a dark forest over damp earth. And they themselves hid, waiting for prey. They sat in ambush for three days and three nights, but no one was caught. Everyone came to Volga empty-handed, with guilty faces.
The prince rebuked the heroes:
“And you call yourself hunters!” Say: with the prince anywhere! ..
Here Volga Svyatoslavovich turned into a gray wolf, ran around the forest, wrapped all wild animals in one place: martens, and foxes, and beautiful black sables, and long-legged bunnies, as well as ermines, deer, tours, bears and terrible, terrible wild boars. ..
Then again Volga turned into a young prince and entangled the animals with a rope of silk:
- That's all. Choose anyone!
And with the great booty the squad returned to capital Kyiv.
Another time, Volga Svyatoslavovich says to the heroes:
- And you listen, brave squad, to me, your governor! I command you, and you do it. I want to know what you are good for, what business you are more capable of!
Young heroes surrounded the prince. They really wanted to do something, they were able to show their ability - they were burdened by the guilt of the past.
Volga, the cunning governor, tells them:
- You, brothers, make silk snares and stronger ones. And put those snares in the dark forest. Put on the highest tops. And catch, bird hunters, any more birds. Whoever you catch: geese, and swans, and clear falcons, and other even the smallest birds ... Catch three days and three nights. Bring me any booty.
The young heroes dispersed through the dense dark forest. They did everything as they were ordered by the governor. Stronger silk silks were wound around the fir-trees, they were placed higher on the pines. Then they hid in the branches. The bird was waiting. For three days and three nights they did not close their eyes. And they cooed, and chirped, and chirped, and squawked and quacked - they lured prey. But they didn't. If any bird appeared, it flew far to the side of the snares. So, empty-handed, all his brave combatants came to Volga. They hid their eyes.
The prince laughed at the heroes:
- Oh, you! And you want to be called a birder! You want to be equal to Volga Svyatoslavovich ...
Here Volga Svyatoslavovich turned into a bird of prey Nauy, flew up to the very heavens and went around the forest to describe circle after circle. He wrapped every bird in one place: geese, and swans, and clear falcons, and other even the smallest birds ... Then again he turned into a prince and threw a wide silk net over the birds:
- Here, brothers, and all is short! ..
With great booty they returned to Kyiv this time as well.
Some time has passed, and Volga Svyatoslavovich says to the heroes:
“That’s it, brave squad! You listen to me, your governor! I will command you something, you will do it. I'm curious what my good fellows are much for!
Listen attentively daring good fellows.
Volga tells them (you can’t fool him on chaff!):
- Take, heroes, sharp axes and build an oak boat: so that the plank to the plank is adjacent without a crack, and so that everything is knocked down with oak pegs. Then tie a net with bone hooks from silk threads. And go out into the blue sea, catch a fish. How much you say - everything is fine! And take salmon, and whitefish, and perch, and roach, and expensive royal sturgeon fish. Catch three days and three nights, and I'll wait for you on the shore.
The young heroes obeyed their governor. During the night the ship was built: strong, fine - plank to plank adjoins without a crack; sheathing is attached to the frame with oak pegs. At dawn, on the seashore, the silk seine was tied up. And they went out to sea.
The seine was thrown by a brave squad, they fished for three days and three nights: during the day they threw bread into the water - they fed it, and at night they burned bright torches - they lured it. And when the time came and they got the seine ... it was empty in it. So with an empty net they approached the shore. They spread their hands in front of the prince, sighed, guiltily hid their eyes.
Volga shook his head.
- Oh, brothers! And they were called fishermen! At feasts, they boasted that they knew how to catch fish. But in reality, it turns out that you only know how to raise cups and goblets high and make loud, empty speeches ...
Bogatyrs were offended:
“We don’t know why this is happening! Probably some kind of witchcraft! .. It was not by chance that we were known as hunters, and bird-catchers, and noble fishermen. Yes, luck has turned away from us ...
The wise young Volga said nothing more to them. He turned around himself, turned around like a spotted pike, hit the wave with his powerful tail and went into the depths. Oh, and he walked around the blue sea! .. He wrapped every fish in one place - to the shore - and white-bellied salmon, and great beluga, and red-finned perch, and roach, and expensive royal sturgeon fish. Volga caught up with so many fish that the water near the shore seemed to turn silver and seemed to boil.
Volga jumped out of the turbulent wave ashore, turned over his head and took on a human form. Then he threw the seine, and immediately pulled it out. Ah, the shore covered the shore with silver.
The heroes were delighted with the catch, they asked their governor:
- Test us again, Volga! ..
The prince was silent.
And they returned to Kyiv with a rich catch.
A month has not passed, the squad got bored. Sitting at feasts all day long, you will quickly get tired. The young bogatyrs wanted space, jumps of unbridled feather grass across the steppe, larks over their heads. Volga noticed that his warriors began to sigh, to yawn at the abundant tables.
The prince tells them:
- Brave team! Listen to me, your governor! I will command you, and you will obey. I want to see what my good fellows can do!
The young heroes revived: what kind of new test did the governor come up with for them?
Volga Svyatoslavovich asks:
- Whom should we send to the Turkish land, to check on the plans of the Sultan, to find out if the Sultan is going to go to war against Holy Russia?
The heroes do not know whom to send. Now, if you could strike with a sword and wave with a club, everyone would volunteer. And here's the tricky one. Umishko with a hook is needed! ..
Volga then says:
- If you send the old one, you will have to wait a long time. The old one walks slowly. If you send the middle one, the Turks will drink wine to death. And if you send the younger one, he will play with the girls, because it is far known how good girls are in the Turkish lands, and it is far known how attentive young heroes are to girls! ..
Volga looked at his squad, sighed:
“Obviously, you have to go yourself!”
Here the cunning Volga Svyatoslavovich turned into a small bird, flew along the undercloud to the south. He quickly flew to Turkish lands. Volga circled over the beautiful palace of the Sultan, saw the Sultan himself in a brocade turban, in a silk robe to the toes, saw another man in a torn robe, exhausted, humiliated, lying in front of the Sultan on a stone floor; Volga listened to secret conversations, sitting on the window. What he needed, he found out. This is what Volga heard ...
- Have you forgotten why I sent you, despicable slave? It was the Sultan's voice. - Have you forgotten whose mark you have on your forehead? Answer, if you do not want to taste my violent temper on your ribs ...
“I didn’t forget, sir,” this man said without lifting his face from the floor. “I found out everything exactly, great sultan. And I am proud of your stigma, as I would be proud of the eye of Allah, which could see clearly on my forehead ...
- Speak, slave! What did you see in Russia? Is the young prince Volga still alive?
- I went through all the barriers, except for one - I didn’t get into the prince’s tower; your servant was not called to an honorable feast. I deceived all the guards, but I could not deceive the heroic circle; I was not allowed to see the princely family... However, in Russia the grass does not grow in the old way, the flowers do not bloom as before, the winds do not blow in the usual way, the stars do not fall in the usual way... It can be seen that Volga is no longer alive! ..
The sultan rejoiced at these words, laughed, boasted:
- If there is no Volga, I will go to war against holy Russia! I will take nine Russian cities, wrap nine princes in bull skins, and bury them alive in the ground. And I will give my nine sons, formidable sultanoviches, a joy to the eyes, to Russia. And I’ll bring myself a sable fur coat! ..
At the stables of the Sultan's little bird descended, she turned into gray wolfs. The wolf burst into the stables, growled, bared his teeth - he scared the grooms to death, and cut the Turkish horses to the last. Then he rushed into the armory with a small ermine (eyes shone mischievously), gnawed through all the bowstrings of tight bows. He turned into a shaggy bear, bent his damask clubs in an arc, broke his sharp sabers. He shook the walls with a mighty roar, caused a great commotion among the Turks ... And he returned to his homeland like a small bird.
To his friend he said:
“Here is the test you asked for!” Sit down, bogatyrs, on mighty horses with hips and ride, fearless, for me to the Turkish lands. Take sharp swords out of their scabbards, throw damask clubs on your shoulder. And, loving the homeland, show what you are good for!
Here jumped on horses, brave fellows, good fellows, and galloped south to the unfaithful Turkish lands. They fought gloriously in a foreign land, captured cities. They were cut with swords - there was no mercy for the enemies! Turkish warriors were crushed with clubs, and the powerful walls of cities, and gates, upholstered in iron. They galloped across the battlefield like gray wolves, burst into cities and villages like bright falcons. The winners came to the Sultan's palace. The arrogant sultan himself was taken prisoner.
And here he said to the squad Volga:
“Now I know what my warriors are good for!” Hunters, bird-catchers and fishermen, of course, they are good, but worse than their governor. But in the battle, none of the fellows is inferior to Volga! Do not borrow them from the wolf of agility, from the falcon of speed, and from the bear of ferocity.
And young Volga gave richly to the squad. Each gave a herd of horses. And each horse - seven rubles. He gave sharp sabers for five rubles and damask clubs for six rubles. He gave the fine fellows and beauties: the old women - half a piece, the young women - two half pieces each, and the red girls, black-eyed Turkish women - a piece of money.
They returned with this prey to Kyiv.
All the people of Kiev were very grateful to them - for the fact that the threat was removed from the Russian land. They praised Volga, they praised his small squad! At the long feasts of the victorious, endless salutatory speeches were spoken ...

Volga Svyatoslavich(also Volkh Vseslavievich) - hero, Russian character. The main distinguishing features of this hero are the ability to shapeshift (the ability to turn into animals) and the ability to understand the language of birds and animals.

There are many archaic features in the epic figure of Volkh Vseslavievich, so he is considered one of the oldest characters in Russian folklore.

Volga Svyatoslavich in epics

Volga is the son of a snake and Princess Marfa Vseslavievna, who miraculously conceived him by accidentally stepping on a snake. The trembling of the earth and the terrible fear of all living creatures at the moment when Volga saw the light point to him as the personification of some elemental force. Volga grows by leaps and bounds, and soon becomes a powerful hero, possessing not only the art of fighting enemies, but also reading books and turning into different animals.

This story preserves the oldest totemic ideas about animals as human ancestors and about the possibility of the birth of a great hunter and sorcerer directly from an animal father.

The central moment of the epics about the Volga is his: Indian, the lands of the Turkish-Saltan, etc. He is recruiting a squad. To provide her with everything she needs, he turns into a wolf and a falcon, feeding her with hunting. The success of the campaign is due to the wisdom of Volga. With an ermine, he spoils the bowstrings of enemies' bows, with a wolf he bites the throats of horses, and so on. In order for the squad to overcome the impregnable walls, he turns them into ants, and within the walls of the city he returns his human form. The winner marries the wife of the murdered king, and his warriors marry local girls left alive. He himself becomes king.

Surpassed Volga in "cunning-wisdom". During the collection of taxes from the cities of Gurchevets and Orekhovets, Volga met a plowman who complained about the tax collectors of the city of Gurchevets, who were tearing a simple man at an exorbitant price, and punished them for their greed with a whip. Seeing a mighty hero in Mikul, Volga called him with him to the squad to collect taxes. Having driven off, Mikula remembered that he had forgotten the plow in the ground. Twice Volga sent combatants to pull out that plow, on the third time he himself and his squad did not overcome the whole. Mikula pulled out that plow with one hand. Arriving in the cities of Gurchevets and Orekhovets, they fought and collected taxes.

When the red sun shone

Whether on that clear sky,

Then the young Volga was born,

Young Volga Svyatoslavovich.

How Volga began to grow here to swear;

Volga longed for a lot of wisdom:

Pike fish to walk him in the deep seas,

Like a falcon to fly under the shell,

To roam like a gray wolf and through clean fields.

All the fish went to the blue seas,

All the birds flew away for the shell,

All the animals galloped off into the dark forests.

How Volga began to grow here to curse,

I collected a good friend for myself,

Thirty fellows and without a single one,

And he himself was Volga in the thirties.

He collected dark brown stallions for himself,

Dark brown colts, not light.

Here, sit on good horses, let's go,

Let's go to the cities and get paid.

We drove out into the expanse of pure field,

Heard in the open field yelling:

The oratay's bipod creaks,

Omeshki but pebbles are scratched.

They drove that day, from morning to evening,

We couldn't get to the oratay.

They rode, yes, and another day,

Another day, from morning to evening,

Couldn't get to the oratay

As the oratay yells in the field, whistles,

The oratay's bipod creaks,

And omeshki are scratching over pebbles.

Here they rode for the third day,

And the third day before pabedya,

And they ran into an open field shouting:

As the oratay yells in the field, whistles,

And he marks the furrows,

And singing, twists the roots,

And then big stones fall into the furrow,

The horned mare has a nightingale,

Her beetles are silk,

The bipod is maple,

Omeshiki on the bipod damask,

The bipod is silver,

And the horn at the bipod is red gold.

And the orata's curls sway,

What if the pearls are scattered;

In the orata's eyes, yes, the falcon is clear,

And his eyebrows are black sable;

The orata's boots have green morocco:

Here is the awl of the heel, the noses are sharp,

Here a sparrow will fly under the heel,

At least roll an egg near the nose,

The orata's hat is downy,

And his caftan is black velvet.

Volga says these words:

"God help you, yell oratayushko,

Shout, plow, and peasant,

And mark the grooves for you,

And penya, twist the roots,

And then throw big stones into the furrow!

Oratay says these words:

“Come on, Volga Svyatoslavovich,

I need God's help to peasant!

And where are you going, Volga, where are you going?

“As my dear uncle came to me,

Dear uncle and godfather,

Affectionate Vladimir Stolnekievsky,

Whether three cities with peasants

The first city of Kurtsovets,

Another city of Orekhovets,

The third city of Krest'yanovets;

Now I'm going to the cities and for a paycheck.

There live the peasants and all the robbers,

They will cut the Kalinov's slabs,

May they drown you in the river and in Currant.

I was recently there in the city, the third day,

I bought three furs of salt,

Each fur was, after all, a hundred pounds,

And I myself was sitting forty pounds,

And then the peasants began to ask me for pennies;

I became them, after all, to divide the pennies,

And pennies then became little put,

The peasants, after all, are put more.

Then I began to push them away,

He began to push away and threaten with his fist,

I put them here, after all, up to a thousand;

The one who is standing, the one sitting is sitting,

The one who sits sitting, the one lying down.

Then Volga Svyatoslavovich spoke:

“Oh, you, yell oratayushko!

You will go with me as comrades."

And is there an oratay oratayushko

I quilted the silk beetles,

Turned the mare out of the bipod

They got on good horses and rode off.

And her mane curls,

The horned mare's steps went,

The horned mare went breastfeeding,

And let Volgin's horse remain.

Oratay says these words:

"I left a bipod in the furrow

Not for the sake of a passerby traveler:

The poor will run over - there is nothing to take,

And the rich - he will run over, will not covet,

- And for the sake of a peasant and a redneck.

How to pull a bipod out of a dugout,

Shake out the land from the omeshikov,

Yes, throw a bipod behind a willow bush?

Here after all Volga Svyatoslavovich

As if a bipod was pulled out of the ground,

A good friend arrives,

Five fellows, but powerful ones,

To that maple fry;

But they can’t lift bipods from the ground,

Here young Volga Svyatoslavovich

He sends a good friend,

He is a whole dozen, yes.

They spin a fry for obzhi around,

Shake out the land from the omeshikov,

Throw the bipod behind the willow bush.

And here, after all, Volga Svyatoslavovich

He sends all his good squad,

To pull the bipod out of the ground,

They shook out the earth from the omeshikov,

They would have thrown a bipod behind a willow bush.

They spin a fry for obzhi around,

And they can’t pull the bipod out of the ground,

Shake out the land from the omeshikov,

Throw the bipod behind the willow bush.

Here yell oratayushko

Is it on your nightingale mare

Came to the maple fry;

He took the bipod with one hand,

He pulled the bipod out of the ground,

He shook out the earth from the omeshikov,

He threw a bipod behind a willow bush.

And then they sat on good horses and drove off.

As her tail spreads out,

And her mane curls.

The horned mare walked with a step,

But Volgin's horse is jumping up and down.

The horned mare went breastfeeding,

And let Volgin's horse remain.

Then Volga began to shout,

He began to wave his cap, but:

“Wait a minute, yell oratayushko!

For this mare, they would give five hundred.

Then the oratay oratayushko spoke:

“Oh, you stupid, Volga Svyatoslavovich!

I bought this mare as a foal,

As a foal and from under the mother,

Paid five hundred rubles for the mare;

How would this mare be a skate,

There would be no price for this mare.”

Here Volga Svyatoslavovich will speak:

“Oh, you, yell oratayushko!

How is your name called,

Do they name you according to your fatherland?

Then the oratay oratayushko spoke:

“Oh, you, Volga Svyatoslavovich!

I’ll plow like rye and put it in stacks,

I'll put it in stacks and drag it home,

I’ll drag you home and thresh at home,

And I'll make beer and drink the peasants,

And then the peasants will praise me:

"Young Mikula Selyaninovich!"

Then they came to the city to Kurtsevets,

They began to walk around the city,

They began to consider the cities,

And then the guys started talking:

“How this third day was and he beat the peasants!”

And the men began to gather,

They gather and think:

How to come and apologize

And they would bow down low.

Then Volga Svyatoslavovich spoke:

“Oh, you, Mikula Selyaninovich!

I favor from myself three cities with peasants.

Stay here, but the viceroy,

Get a tribute, but a penny."

Volga Svyatoslavich (also Volkh Vseslavievich) is a hero, a character in Russian epics. The main distinguishing features of this hero are the ability to shapeshift and the ability to understand the language of birds and animals.
The identification of Volga and Volkh is not generally accepted in folklore. Perhaps these are different faces that, in the late period of the existence of the epic, began to merge in the minds of storytellers due to the similarity of names. There are many archaic features in the epic figure of Volkh Vseslavievich, which is why he is considered one of the oldest characters in Russian folklore. VF Miller believed that initially it was an image of a thundercloud, as indicated by the shaking in nature described in the epic at the birth of Volga (thunder) and werewolf, that is, a constant and quick change in the shape of a cloud under the influence of air movement.

Bylina

The red sun set behind the high mountains, frequent stars scattered across the sky, a young hero, Volga, was born at that time in Mother Russia. His mother swaddled him in red swaddling clothes, tied them with golden belts, put him in a carved cradle, and began to sing songs over him.
Volga slept for only an hour, woke up, stretched - the golden belts burst, the red diapers were torn, the bottom of the carved cradle fell out. And Volga got on his feet, and he says to his mother:
- Madame mother, don’t swaddle me, don’t twist me, but dress me in strong armor, in a gilded helmet, and give me a club in my right hand, so that a club weighs a hundred pounds.
The mother was frightened, and Volga is growing by leaps and bounds, but by minutes.
Volga has grown up to five years. Other guys in such years only play chocks, and Volga was already learning to read and write - to write and count and read books. When he was six years old, he went for a walk on the ground. The earth shook from his steps. The animals and birds heard his heroic steps, got scared, hid. Deer tours ran away to the mountains, sable-martens swam away to the islands, small animals huddled in the thicket, fish hid in deep places.
Volga Vseslavievich began to learn all sorts of tricks.
He learned to fly across the sky like a falcon, learned to wrap himself like a gray wolf, to ride a deer in the mountains.
Volga turned fifteen years old. He began to collect his comrades. He recruited a squad of twenty-nine people - Volga himself was the thirtieth in the squad. All fellows are fifteen years old, all mighty heroes. They have fast horses, well-aimed arrows, sharp swords.
Volga gathered his squad and went with her to an open field. Volga gathered his squad and went with her to an open field, to a wide steppe. Carts with luggage do not creak behind them, neither downy beds nor fur blankets are carried behind them, servants, stewards, cooks do not run after them ...
For them, a featherbed is dry earth, a pillow is a Cherkasy saddle, there is a lot of food in the steppe, in the forests - there would be a supply of arrows and flint and flint.
Here the fellows spread the camp in the steppe, made fires, fed the horses. Volga sends junior combatants to dark forests.
- You take silk nets, put them in a dark forest along the very ground and catch martens, foxes, black sables, we will store fur coats for the team.
The warriors dispersed through the forests. Volga is waiting for them for a day, waiting for another, the third day is getting closer to evening.
Then the merry warriors arrived: they knocked down their legs on the roots, tore off the dress on the thorns, and returned to the camp empty-handed. Not a single animal caught them in the net.
Volga laughed:
- Oh, hunters! Return to the forest, stand up to the nets and look, well done, both.
Volga hit the ground, turned into a gray wolf, ran into the forests. He drove the beast out of its holes, hollowed out, out of the deadwood, drove foxes, martens, and sables into nets. He did not disdain even a small animal, he caught gray bunnies for dinner.
The combatants returned with rich booty.
I fed and watered Volga's squad, and even shod and dressed them. Vigilantes wear expensive sable fur coats, they also have leopard fur coats for a break. Do not praise Volga, do not stop admiring.
Here time goes on and on, Volga sends medium vigilantes.
- Set up snares in the forest on tall oaks, catch geese, swans, gray ducks.
The heroes scattered through the forest, set snares, thought to come home with rich prey, but they did not even catch a gray sparrow.
They returned to the camp unhappy, hung their heads below their shoulders. They hide their eyes from Volga, turn away.

And Volga laughs at them:
- That they returned without prey, hunters? Well, okay, you'll have something to feast on. Go to the snares and look vigilantly.
Volga crashed down to the ground, flew up like a white falcon, rose high under the very cloud, struck down on every bird in the sky. He beats geese, swans, gray ducks: only fluff flies from them, as if covering the ground with snow. Whom he did not beat, he drove into snares.
The heroes returned to the camp with rich booty. They lit fires, baked game, washed down the game with spring water, praised Volga.
How much, how little time has passed, Volga sends his combatants again:
- You build oak boats, wind silk nets, take pure gold floats, you go out into the blue sea, catch salmon, beluga, stellate sturgeon.
The warriors caught ten days, but they did not catch even a small brush.
Volga turned into a toothy pike, dived into the sea, drove the fish out of deep pits, drove silk nets into the seine. The fellows brought full boats and salmon, and beluga, and baleen catfish.
Vigilantes walk around the open field, they play heroic games, they throw arrows, they ride on horseback, they measure their heroic strength ...
Suddenly Volga heard that the Turkish Tsar Saltan Beketovich was going to war against Russia.
His valiant heart flared up, he called the vigilantes and said:
- It’s enough for you to lie on your sides, it’s full of strength to work up, the time has come to serve your native land, to protect Russia from Saltan Beketovich. Which of you will sneak into the Turkish camp, find out Saltanov's thoughts?
The fellows are silent, hiding for each other: the older one for the middle one, the middle one for the younger one, and the younger one closed his mouth.
Volga got angry:
“Looks like I have to go myself!”
He turned round - golden horns. The first time he jumped - he slipped a mile, the second time he jumped - they only saw him.
Volga galloped to the Turkish kingdom, turned into a gray sparrow, sat on the window to Tsar Saltan and listened. And Saltan walks around the room, clicks with a patterned whip and says to his wife Azvyakovna:
- I decided to go to war against Russia. I will conquer nine cities, I myself will sit as a prince in Kyiv, I will distribute nine cities to nine sons, I will give you shushun sable.
And Tsaritsa Azvyakovna looks sadly:
- Ah, Tsar Saltan, today I had a bad dream: as if a black raven was fighting in a field with a white falcon. The white falcon of the black crow clawed, feathers released into the wind. The white falcon is the Russian hero Volga Vseslavevich, the black raven is you, Saltan Beketovich. Don't go to Russia. Do not take you nine cities, do not reign in Kyiv.
- Tsar Saltan got angry, hit the queen with a whip:
- I'm not afraid of Russian heroes, I will reign in Kyiv.
Then Volga flew down like a sparrow, turned into an ermine. It has a narrow body and sharp teeth. The ermine ran through the royal court, made its way into the deep royal cellars. There he bit off the bowstring of tight bows, gnawed the shafts of arrows, chipped his sabers, bent the clubs in an arc.
An ermine crawled out of the basement, turned into a gray wolf, ran to the royal stables - killed all the Turkish horses, strangled them.
Volga got out of the royal court, turned into a bright falcon, flew into the open field to his friends, woke up the heroes.
- Hey, my brave squad, now is not the time to sleep, it's time to get up! Get ready for a trip to the Golden Horde, to Saltan Beketovich!
They approached the Golden Horde, and around the Horde there was a high stone wall. The gates in the wall are iron, the bolt hooks are copper, the guards at the gate are sleepless - do not fly over, do not cross, do not break the gate.
The heroes became sad, thought: “How to overcome the high wall, the iron gate?”
Young Volga guessed, turned into a small midge, turned all the fellows into goosebumps, and goosebumps crawled under the gate. And on the other side they became warriors.
They struck at Saltanov's strength like thunder from heaven. And the sabers of the Turkish army are blunted, the swords are chipped. Here the Turkish army went on the run.
Russian heroes passed through the Golden Horde, all Saltanov's strength was finished. Saltan Beketovich himself ran away to his palace, closed the iron doors, pushed the copper owls behind the owls.
As Volga kicked the door, all the locks and bolts flew out, the iron doors burst.
Volga went into the room, grabbed Saltan by the hands:
- Do not be you, Saltan, in Russia, do not burn - do not burn Russian cities, do not sit as a prince in Kyiv!
Volga hit him on the stone floor and smashed Saltan to death.
- Do not boast, Horde, of your strength, do not go to war against Mother Russia!

N. I. Nadezhdin

Volga Svyatoslavich

Text source: N. I. Nadezhdin - Bogatyrs and knights of the Russian land. According to epics, legends and songs. / Comp., foreword. N.I. Nadezhdina. Exemplary tales of Russian writers. / Compiled, processed by V. P. Avenarius. Moscow Worker, Moscow, 1992 OCR and spell check: E. Hemingway The red sun set behind the blue seas, behind the high mountains, a bright month rose into the sky and brought behind it a cheerful round dance of clear, frequent stars ... That night, a mighty hero, young Volga Svyatoslavich, was born in Kyiv. At the hour of his birth, the earth trembled and the blue sea stirred; the animals all fled: deer and tours climbed into their holes, foxes and hares hid in the forest thickets, wolves, bears huddled in the spruce forests, the birds climbed high into the sky, the fish went into the depths of the sea: everyone felt that a thunderstorm had come upon them: a mighty hero. Volga grows by leaps and bounds, speaks loudly, like thunder; says to his young mother Marfa Vseslavievna such speeches: - Empress-mother! Do not swaddle me in expensive swaddling clothes, do not put silk belts on me - swaddle me in strong damask armor, put a golden helmet on my violent head, put a heavy, heavy lead stick in my hands, weighing three hundred pounds! The mighty Volga has grown up; his mother gave him seven years to study; science went to him for the future: he learned all sorts of sciences and tricks, but this learning seemed to him not enough. Volga left the house for the high mountains, for the dark forests, for the old wise men, and Volga learned from them various tricks: Volga learned to wrap himself in a clear falcon, and a gray wolf, and a bay turk with golden horns. At the age of twelve, Volga began to clean up his squad: for three years good fellows came to him, they came from noon and from the north, and from the east, and from the west: there were seven thousand squads, all brave and strong fellows. And Volga went with his retinue to an open field to get fame and wealth for himself. - My brave friend! - says Volga, - wind silk ropes, set snares on damp earth, catch martens and foxes, wild animals and black sables. The squad obeyed Volga: they twisted ropes, set snares; Good fellows spent three days and three nights at work: only no animal is caught, as if on purpose, the squad returned to Volga empty-handed. Then Volga turned into a mighty lion, ran into the forests, stuffed every animal, fed his retinue like a king, dressed a black sable in fur coats. For the second time, Volga sends good fellows: - My brave warrior! wind silk ropes, set snares on the branches of trees: catch geese, swans, bright falcons, small birds! Volga's squad spent three days and three nights hunting: not a single bird got tangled in the snares; came to Volga empty-handed. Volga turned into a nauy-bird, soared like an arrow into the sky; I caught, stuffed all kinds of birds, brought them to my squad. Volga says for the third time: "My brave warrior!" Take steel hatchets, build a strong oak ship, throw silk nets into the sea, catch all kinds of fish: salmon and slugs, and pikes, and small fish, and expensive sturgeons. The knights spent three days and three nights at sea; We didn't even catch one small fish! They don't know how to show themselves to Volga. Volga sees that things are bad, he will have to go for prey himself. Here Volga turned into a pike fish, sank to the deep seabed, caught all kinds of fish; fed his druzhinushka sugar dishes, but all the variables. They live for themselves, they live, they don’t know any care, they don’t know. One day, rumors spread around Kyiv that the Indian king was going to make war on the glorious, capital city; threatens to take Kyiv, destroy, God's churches to burn. Reasonable and quick-witted was the good fellow Volga; he gathered his brave squad, went on a campaign to the Indian kingdom. They walked a day, another; Volga says to the squad: - Remote, good fellows, you have gathered here no less than seven thousand; is there not such a person among you who would turn into a bay tour and run away to the Indian kingdom now, find out what Tsar Saltyk Stavrulievich is up to? The warrior bows low to Volga, as if the grass is bent to the ground by the wind, and says: - We have no other such person but you, Volga Svyatoslavich. Here Volga turned into a bay tour with golden horns and ran to the Indian kingdom: he made the first jump - he left a mile away, and with the second he completely disappeared from sight. Then Volga turned into a bright falcon, flew to the Indian kingdom, sat down on the slanted window of the white-stone royal chambers and heard the wife of Tsar Saltyk, Elena Azvyakovna, say to her husband: - You are going, glorious king, to fight against Holy Russia, but you don’t know that a bright month ascended into heaven, a mighty hero was born in Kyiv, your strong enemy, Volga Svyatoslavich! Saltyk Stavrulievich was angry with his wife because she dissuades him from going to Russia, praises someone else's hero; grabbed the queen and how he hit her with a swing on the stone floor! Volga flew away from the window; turned into an ermine beast, made his way into the cellars, cellars, into the high towers of the Indian kingdom, bit the bowstrings of tight bows, broke off the iron from the red-hot arrows and buried it in the ground so that Saltyk had nothing to fight with. And again Volga turned into a bright falcon, soared high into the heavens, flew into an open field, where he left his brave squad. Volga sees - the squad is sleeping, resting. He woke the good fellows: - Get up, my brave warrior, now is not the time to sleep, get enough sleep: it's time to go to the Indian kingdom! They approached the stone strong wall of the Indian capital city: the walls are high and strong, the iron gates are dead-tightly locked, with copper bolt hooks. Day and night, royal guards walk around the city. On the gates, there is a fine, wisely carved lattice: only a tiny goosebump can penetrate the lattice patterns: they are so thin and narrow. Volga's squad began to spin: - In vain we will lay down our heads here: how to get through these tricky walls to the capital Indian city! Volga hears the complaint of the daring good fellows, says: - This grief can be helped! Volga turned into a goosebump and turned his squad into goosebumps, and they made their way beyond the city walls to the glorious Indian kingdom. Here they again turned into good fellows on horseback, armed with daggers and spears. Volga gave them the following order: - You go around the Indian kingdom, cut down old and small, do not leave a single villain-Tatar alive, leave only seven thousand red girls alive! And Volga himself went to the royal chambers to the Indian king. Tsar Saltyk Stavrulievich is sitting in his strong palace: iron doors are locked with heavy damask locks. Volga pushed the door with his foot, and strong bolts flew off: there was no need to open it. When Volga saw Tsar Saltyk, he said: “They don’t beat you, they don’t execute you!” - grabbed him by the white hands, hit him on the brick floor and put him in place. And Volga himself became the tsar-sovereign in the Indian kingdom, married the beautiful queen Elena Azvyakovna, and his squad married darling red girls. Volga generously rewarded his good fellows: he gave silver, gold; to each he gave a herd of horses worth a hundred thousand. The brave warrior glorifies her daring prince, and throughout Russia there is a loud praise for the deeds and exploits of the glorious hero Volga Svyatoslavich and his daring, good fellows. one

Notes

1. From the south 2. In rich houses there were skewed windows, that is, with wooden jambs, frames, and in portage huts - small sliding windows. 3. In this case"Tatar" means "foreigner, foreigner". As you read further in the book, you will often come across this word. To understand why the enemies that the heroes fight are called Tatars, you need to know that in Russia this was the name for representatives of a huge power - the Golden Horde, which included many Turkic and Mongol tribes. Russia was under the yoke of the Golden Horde for more than two centuries. Over time, in folklore, the designation of the Golden Horde tribes merged with the designation of the Khazars, Pechenegs, Polovtsy, Saracens, who raided our land.