day. Next evening she came to the mead where Bába Yagá's hut stood. The fence round the hut consisted of human bones, and on the stakes skeletons glared out of their empty eyes. And, instead of the doorways and the gate, there were feet, and in the stead of bolts there were hands, and instead of the lock there was a mouth with sharp teeth. And Vasilísa was stone-cold with fright.
Suddenly another horseman pranced by on his way. He was all in black, on a jet-black horse, with a jet-black cloak. He sprang to the door and vanished as though the earth had swallowed him up: and it was night. But the darkness did not last long, for the eyes in all the skeletons on the fence glistened, and it became as light as day all over the green.
Vasilísa trembled with fear, but remained standing, for she did not know how she could escape. Suddenly a terrible noise was heard in the forest, and the tree-boughs creaked and the dry leaves crackled. And out of the wood Bába Yagá drove in inside the mortar with the pestle, and with the broom swept away every trace of her steps. At the door she stopped, sniffed all the way round, and cried out:
"Fee, Fo, Fi, Fum, I smell the blood of a Russian mum!'
Who is there?"
Vasilísa, shuddering with dread, stepped up to her, bowed low to the ground, and said: "Mother, I am here. My stepmother's daughters sent me to you to ask for fire."
"Very well," said Bába Yagá: "I know them. Stay with me, work for me, and I will give you fire. Otherwise I shall eat you up."
Then she went to the door, and she cried out: "Ho! my strong bolts, draw back, my strong door, spring open!" And the door sprang open, and Bába Yagá
