Ulfoboros by A. M. Remizov

What was the wonder of our wanderers when, unexpectedly, without even finishing the first day of their unbeknown journey to the mysteries of the Seven Seas, they found themselves in the most impossible and unchancy situation: Alalei and Leila fell into the lupine belly of Ulfoboros.
And it all happened out of the blue.  While having met a sleeping wolf in the leigh, Alalei and Leila simply could not resist and, forgetting the wisdom of Nanny Goat, could not help but touch the terrible wolf.  They stroked Ulfoboros on his grey and glossy fur, though they stroked slightly, but the wolf woke up — the wolf is quite sensitive! — still not very well into what’s going on, snap!  — swallowed them.

If only they would obey Nanny Goat, strictly fulfill even such things that the goat itself, sending them on the road, having bothered, but forgot to say, and not to act so unwarily from the very first step ... It's no joke, because Ulfoboros is not a simpleton of wolfkind; the half-wit hero got the autochord gusles by this wolf from the very far far away! And getting into the belly of such a wolf is no joke.

While sitting in the belly, Alalei blamed Leila; Leila blamed Alalei.

 — That's all you, Leila, —said Alalei, —only you!  Why did you need to stroke the wolf!  Well, we looked at him, so, we stood a little, blew softly on the fur, and would have walked away quietly and why even did we have to touch it with our hands?

 'No, Alalei,' objected Leila, 'it's not me, it's you.  You showed me the wolf, you led me to the wolf, and you were the first... nay, bethink, Alalei, you were the first to be swallowed by the wolf, and me at the same time.

 — Not at all it was at the same time!  I grabbed you, wanted to scream, and just at that very moment the wolf grabbed me.  Who was the first to be swallowed by the wolf, me or you?

 — It was you, Alalei!

 — Oh, really!  It's always me to blame.  And what will Nanny Goat say when she finds out!  What will Catotheus Catotheian say!  Oh, Leila, our journey is gone, goodbye the Seven Seas now.

 — Come on, Alalei, let's raise a noise, we'll stomp, cry, squeak, so will be heard and set free.

 — Who will hear us!  And where are you going to stomp!  Set free?  Who needs it?  Don't touch the wolf, that's what you need.

 — You don't love me at all, Alalei!

 'Yes, if I were alone,' Alalei was offended, 'if I were alone in the belly of a wolf, by God, I wouldn’t think about anything.  Because I'm worried about you...

 — I want to eat.

Alalei could not find an answer.  Alalei just shrugged helplessly: in fact, what to get from Leila, such a capricious and subtle and spoiled one, here, in the belly of Ulfoboros!

All the nooks and corners of the Ulfoboric belly were overcrowded with all sorts of creatures, but everything was in the most unsuitable and inedible form: goats, sheep, rams, calves were dumped alive, and right there all sorts of horns, hooves, beaks, tails, withers, beards, manes, and right there things pretty much random: mittens, felt boots, a lot of canvas walls and a samovar with red-potted midriff.

It started to rain in the belly.

The rain was autumnally petty; and summerly warm.

Ulfoboros ran on, minding its own lupine business, through the forest and the field, and again the forest and again the field, through logs, through swamps, through ravines and combes.

The steps of the sun had already subsided, the crescent appeared in the skies, and the nightingale, a spring vagrant, whistling, sang its song, when night came on the wolf: having run to its heart's content, the wolf crashed to the ground and snored wulfusiastically.

Having managed to get wet and then to dry themselves, Alalei and Leila gradually got used to it and, recovering from the shock, thrown to the other end of the wolf's belly, went to wander in the belly, looking for at least some kind of light to the outside.

After a long search in the left side — Ulfoboros is usually sleeping on its right side — they managed to find something like a dormer window.

Leila was the first to look outside and, out of fear, hid behind Alalei.  Alalei looked out and screwed up his eyes.

What happened?  What was it in the outside?  What scared Leila so much, why did Alalei close his eyes?

'Don’t be afraid, Leila,' said Alalei, 'they are… you have to get used to them… they are not human at all, just don’t be afraid, Leila.

And both, clinging tightly to each other, leaned out of the wolf's window into the wild.

The moon lowered its horns low and there all became clear like during the day-time.

Ulfoboros was sleeping on a barrow — on some kind of Swedish grave, and from the grave the entire holme to the very river was rocking — swarmed with all sorts of spring sprights.

And everyone there was: brownies, pixies, barn-ghosts, bath-sprights, forest and wood goblins, leaf shakers, rootlings, hollow-dwellers, mosslanders, field spirits, mermen, cow-legs, strangers, a prowler and no-goer, bone breakers, leather cutters, heaviers, a getter, a carrion, a frog, a baretail, a twinkler, a weevil, a spur, and a whisperer with his whisperette.

Some were puffed, like the hens during the laying of egg, others were skipping and shaking and swinging, black-brown, black-haired, frozen, stained, bundles, rocumors, serene, quiet-legged — the grass is not stomping under them, the flowers do not break, and snake-like lop-lipped, lop-eared, hook-nosed, thin-legged and fully chtonic, they crawled like a snake from underground holes,  a damp and cold country.

Spring drove them out, spring lured them out of the dark winter cloaks, spring swirled around — and can not sleep, everything is beckoning.

While away, the sprights of the spring night, they chit-chat with each other.

How it started no one knows.  Truly, the conversation of sprights does not start right from something.

Silvan praised the forest.

—'Tis fairly well in the foreste —'Tis the best over yonder — Silvan rustled like tree cones —'tis good and jolly and you feel at ease!  Maybe ye know Aykins?  Aykins lives in a hut: and his hut is cover'd with goulden moss, and all the yeer round his water is the spring ice, his broome is a bear's paw; smoak comes out of the chimley briskly, and in the severest frosts Aykins house is warm.  Olde fauns and granny dryades sit in last year’s leaves, and as autumn approaches, they see autumnal stars, grab their hands, jump thorough the foreste, whistle thorough the whole of it, without a head, without a tail, they jump, that’s how they whistle!  Listin the Blind Man and Phyllone the She-Leaf wander thorough the foreste, rustling, as usual. Woodghest the Brush-Keeper sleeps in his brushwood.  The Overwood is an armless woman, and she strives to grab you, as thin as a blade of grass.  And o'er the lough, in the blueberry foreste, o'er yonder lives Megrim.  And ahind the lither swamp lives the Swampman.  And o'er the wild steppe, ayond the birch foreste, is Rogana the witch.  At night, Rogana walks through the foreste in a wreath of foreste flowers, she cries softly and sadly.  But I don't know aught abowt the fierce beast Corocodile.  Has any one heard somthing about it?

The sprights kept silent.

A migratory light crackled, then flashed brightly, then slightly glowed like a blue snake.

Cow-leg the Daredevil, licking his lips, said:

 — I am Cow-leg!  There is a cat-o-leon beast — a terrible, mustachio'd beast, but I have not heard anything about a Corocodile.

'And we are quite different,' Weevil squeaked, 'Adam had many children of us.  Once, on Easter, God ordered Adam to take all of us out for show.  Adam was embarrassed: he was ashamed to drag such a crowd.  Adam dragged only the elders, and we stayed at home.  We are these very hidden household children of Adam.

'And we are fallen sprights,' hissed the soft-footed one, 'fallen sprights, we were very annoying, we didn’t do things, we followed on the heels of God, so God turned us from heaven.

— And we are unfaithful, we are former angels, the archangel drove us.  We flew for forty days and forty nights, and whoever got where, he stayed there — the former angel inserted the word, and he's like nothing else: his nose is a notch of a yoke, his legs are a curl of birch bark, and light like a hop cone.

 — The cat-o-leon beast is a terrible, mustachio'd one…— the raconteur Cow-leg licked its lips; and what interest was for the Cow-leg to this beast.

And at spring midnight, the stonefly daughter, Halloo, walked straight into the haunt through the spring meadow.

Enter Halloo.  Her curly braid crumbled like a star.  Halloo blinked with lightning.

And as if thunder struck the sprights.

From last year's hay, a yawning demon of straw, crushed by the warmth, started to purr, and the meadow responded, hummed, and the whole holme clicked and groaned and hooted, the forest chirped like a dragonfly.

A round dance went on, began to play, spun, — oh, roundelay!

Either a hoof, or horns, or a wing, or, God knows what, or maybe a cat-o-leon beast, maybe Corocodile himself, well, something, someone crushed the paw of the wolf.

When Ulfoboros jumped up, he took a breath, snorted, and that was it.

Alalei and Leila barely managed to bounce away from the window.

The wolf raced, flew at breakneck speed, ran through the forest and the field, and again through the forest and again through the field, through logs, through swamps, through ravines and combes.

There was sickness in the wolf's belly.

Laila was dozing.

 — Alalei, I feel sorry for Halloo.

 — They're having fun, Leila.

 — The beast corocodile will eat her.  And how did they not notice us?

 — They are not up to us.

 — And who is up to us, Alalei?

 — Morning will come.  Let's wait for the morning, Ulfoboros will fall asleep, and we will jump through the window.

 — If only the morning would come sooner... I love you, Alalei, I love you very, very much, Alalei.

And when morning came, Alalei and Leila came out of the belly to freedom.  And they wandered for a long time through the forest, through the field and through the swamp, they encountered all sorts of mischances and, having learned a lot of oddities, they went out onto the path.

The path will lead them to the Seven Seas.

 — Leila, I love you very, very much!

 1910

transl. from Russian
by Ed. Labintzeff