I. The Morel
A boy was gathering mushrooms in the forest—the big ones he placed in his basket, but the small ones he crushed under his boots. The old Forest Spirit saw the mushroom-gatherer and grew angry. He summoned a swamp mist upon him. The boy became a morel.
He looked around and saw standing about him honey mushrooms—little fellows; milk mushrooms—old crones; and russula—sturdy peasants. The King Bolete approached and asked:
“Who are you?”
“I am a boy.”
“No, you are a morel!” said the King Bolete. “Hide yourself quickly!”
The morel ran beneath a bush. Toward him came a prickly hedgehog. It saw the morel and said:
“What a pretty, handsome little mushroom! I will take it for my dinner.”
It tossed the morel onto its back, onto its needles, and carried it to its burrow. Toward them bounded a squirrel. It saw the morel and said:
“What a pretty, handsome little mushroom! It will serve for winter stores and provisions.”
It snatched the morel from the hedgehog and leaped onto a tree. A crow flew by. It saw the morel and said:
“What a pretty, handsome little mushroom! I will take it to my nest.”
The crow began hopping from branch to branch, trying to take the morel from the squirrel. And the squirrel ran from the crow. It could not hold the morel and dropped it. It fell onto a bear trail.
Along came the thick-pawed bear. With its paws it pressed the grass to the earth, broke bushes, and stripped bark from stumps. Any moment now it would step on the mushroom. The morel grew frightened and darted aside. It jumped into a pit and cried out:
“Ma-ma!”
The swamp mist dispersed, and the morel turned back into a boy.
II. The Forest Spirit and the Cuckoo
In a black, black forest, beneath a tall pine, sat the Forest Spirit, mending his coat with bast and patching it with moss.
A sparrow flew in. The Forest Spirit asked:
“Sparrow, sparrow, what have you seen?”
“Chiv-chiv! A peasant came to the forest on a cart for firewood.”
“He came for no good! A tree will fall and kill his horse.”
A crow flew in. The Forest Spirit asked:
“Crow, crow, what have you seen?”
“Carr-carr! A hunter came to the forest with a dog.”
“He came for no good! A bear will maul the dog.”
A cuckoo flew in. The Forest Spirit asked:
“Cuckoo, cuckoo, what have you seen?”
“Coo-coo, coo-coo! A girl came to the swamp with a basket to gather cloudberries.”
“She came for no good! The Swamp Spirit will drag the girl into the mire.”
“Coo-coo, coo-coo! But I have cuckooed many years for the girl.”
“Well, you speckled one! You know nothing of what you speak, yet you cuckoo! I shall have to rescue the girl.”
The Forest Spirit came to the swamp. He stamped his feet on the moss, splashed and clapped his hands on the water. And he cried:
“Swamp Spirit, Swamp Spirit, do not touch the girl! The cuckoo has cuckooed many years for her!”
The Swamp Spirit did not wish to give up his prey. He thrust his green beard from the water and said:
“Here now, Snag-and-Drift! Drown the Forest Spirit!”
Snag-and-Drift leaped from the swamp. It swirled around the Forest Spirit, seized his beard, and dragged him toward the water. The Forest Spirit twisted his head and bellowed in a terrible voice. The woodpeckers heard and flew in from the forest.
They began pecking Snag-and-Drift with their long beaks. They pecked it all to splinters and scattered it across the ground. The Forest Spirit seized the Swamp Spirit by his green hair and pulled him from the water onto the bank. The Swamp Spirit grew frightened and begged:
“Let me go back to the swamp! I will not touch the girl!”
The Forest Spirit released the Swamp Spirit. And the girl gathered a full basket of cloudberries by the swamp and went home.
III. The Hunter and the Forest Spirits
A hunter came to the forest. But the forest seemed to have died out entirely. Neither beast nor bird did the hunter encounter. All day he walked and caught nothing. The sun hid behind the forest. Darkness fell. It was far to walk home. The hunter decided to spend the night in the forest. He saw a large hollow in a tree and climbed inside.
The hunter sat, peering from the hollow. Suddenly he saw an old man sitting on a stump, gray as a harrier. The hunter thought: “How old must he be?” And the old man, as if reading his thoughts, said:
“I am a thousand years old!”
The hunter understood: it was no old man sitting on the stump, but the Forest Spirit himself.
The moon began to hide behind a cloud. The Forest Spirit wove a whip from bast. Then he would stop, look at the sky, and mutter:
“Moon—golden horns,
Come out on the path,
Shine a little.
I gather bast
And weave a whip.”
The moon peeked from behind the cloud and lit the earth. Past came the Kikimora, asking:
“What are you doing, brother?”
The Forest Spirit answered:
“I weave a whip to flog the hunter. When the whip touches the hunter, he will turn into a wolf.”
The Forest Spirit finished the whip. He rose on hooves. Past came the Shishiga, asking:
“What are you doing, brother?”
The Forest Spirit answered:
“I smell the human spirit. I will search all around.”
The Forest Spirit began sniffing the earth. The hunter grew frightened, climbed from the hollow, and ran from the forest with all his might. The Forest Spirit chased him, clattering his hooves, lashing the earth with his whip.
The hunter reached the edge of the forest. Exhausted, he sat on a stump to rest. The stump stirred, and the hunter tumbled off. A branch caught his musket, and the gun fired. The bullet struck a spruce. Down rained cones and needles. The spruce cones pummeled the Forest Spirit, the needles filled his eyes, and the branches lashed and beat him. Frightened, the Forest Spirit fled to his black forest, thoroughly beaten. And the hunter found his way to the road and went home.
IV. The Peasant and the Forest Spirits
A peasant came to the forest for firewood. He drew his axe from his belt and began to chop a tree. The Forest Spirit, the Kikimora, and the Shishiga heard the knocking.
The Forest Spirit said:
“Well, peasant, beware! I will lead you into the swamp, drown you in the mire! You will know what it means to meddle in my forest!”
The Kikimora said:
“Well, peasant, beware! I will wrap you in osiers, thrash you with switches! You will know what it means to make noise and clatter in my domain, to ring your axe!”
And the Shishiga said:
“Well, peasant, beware! I will trample you under a stump, crush you with a log! You will know what it means to destroy my property!”
The Forest Spirit crept toward the peasant. He hid now behind an aspen, now behind a fir. The peasant struck the tree with his axe. A chip flew off and struck the Forest Spirit in the eye. It put out his eye. Howling and screaming, the Forest Spirit leaped through the bushes and fled into the thicket.
The Kikimora crept forward. She hid now in a pit, now in a ravine. She stood behind the peasant’s back. Any moment she would seize him with her osier, strangle him with her switch. The peasant swung his axe and struck the Kikimora in the forehead with the blunt end. In a terrible voice, the Kikimora howled and screamed and fled into the swamp.
The Shishiga crept forward, hiding now behind a stump, now behind a bush. The peasant struck the trunk with his axe, struck again, and the tree swayed and fell. The Shishiga was crushed beneath it.
Thus the Forest Spirit, the Kikimora, and the Shishiga could not overcome the peasant. He loaded the firewood onto his cart and drove home.
The Forest Spirit is a mythological image of the forest spirit, master of the forest thicket and the animals dwelling within it. He changes his height—able to become tall as the trees or low as the grass, and to hide beneath fallen leaves. He can frighten people with his laughter and lead travelers astray.