On the edge of a deep dark forest there once lived a little girl and her name was Masha. She lived with her father who loved her and her stepmother who hated her. The father suspected nothing for whenever he was at home the stepmother’s words were as sweet as the honey in the blue pot on the kitchen table. But he was often away in the nearby town and then the words that fell upon Masha were as sharp as the small iron axe used for splitting the firewood - although Masha did all she could to please her stepmother.
One day, just as Masha’s father was leaving for the town, the stepmother turned to him with a smile and said,
“Today I will sew a new dress for Masha.” The father smiled back and wishing his wife and child farewell he left the house. Immediately the stepmother turned to the child and the sweet wide smile on her face suddenly turned sour and thin,
“Well child, if I am to sew, I will need a needle and thread and none of your poor dead mother’s will do. Go to my sister, who lives deep in the forest, and tell her I need a needle and thread.”
Masha protested that her mother’s needles were good and sharp and that her thread was strong but her stepmother insisted she went.
And when Masha heard her words she was frightened indeed, for she knew her stepmother wanted to kill her… for in the heart of the forest there only lived the wolf and the bear … and Baba Yaga the Witch.
There was nothing Masha could do; she had to go.
She combed her long nut-brown hair and tied it with a bright red ribbon. Then she went and asked her stepmother for some food for the journey. All she would allow her was a crust of stale bread and a small bone with the tiniest scrap of meat and a little pat of butter, but Masha thanked her and tied up her meagre lunch in her mother’s old handkerchief and following her nose took the path that led deep into the forest.
Further and further, deeper and deeper, Masha’s feet carried her into the darkness of the forest trees until all that Masha could see was the bright whiteness of her mother’s handkerchief shining.
And from all around came the words of a whispered song.
And so Masha walked with her feet on the right path until she came to some birch trees growing close together. Beyond the trees was a glade and in the middle of the glade she saw a house - a house twirling and spinning, hopping and leaping on a great chicken leg. So Masha called out in a loud voice, ”Little house, little house, stand with back to the forest and face to me.” And the twirling and spinning, and hopping and leaping suddenly stopped and the little hut was still.
Now around the edge of the forest glade was a fence made from old bones. She made her way to the gate, hardly daring to look at the many skulls staring down at her from the spiked fence. But as she pushed open the gate it gave a loud
C-R-E-A-K!
“Oh poor gate,” said Masha, “you need some grease to stop your squeak,” and out of her mother’s handkerchief she took the little pat of butter and rubbed it into the hinges so the gate swung silently closed behind her.
Immediately a lean bony dog came bounding towards her, barking ferociously.
“Oh poor dog, you look hungry,” said Masha and out of her mother’s handkerchief she took out the small bone with the tiniest scrap of meat and gave it to him. The dog stopped barking, gave a wag of his tail and ran off with his bone.
Masha walked up to the hut and knocked on the door.
The door swung open and there was Baba Yaga herself weaving at her loom. Clickety-click, clickety-clack! Masha stared for the old witch was so big, so bad and so bony. But worst of all, Baba Yaga’s mouth was red and wide and full of iron teeth.
“Who are you and what do you want?” snarled the red mouth and Masha saw the iron teeth flash fire.
“My name is Masha and I have been sent by my step mother, your sister, to ask for a needle and thread. For she told me,
“So my sister wants a needle and thread does she?” replied Baba Yaga, “But weren’t you afraid to come alone in the forest, for they say it is full of creatures who will devour a little girl walking alone?”
“I was afraid,” said Masha holding her mother’s handkerchief tightly in her hand.
Baba Yaga eyed her thoughtfully. “My sister shall have her needle and thread, but in return you must work for me. Just do the weaving whilst I am taking my bath, then you can help prepare my dinner.” And off she went.
Masha sat down and began to weave, Clickety-click, clickety-clack! Through the door strolled a thin black cat.
“Oh poor cat, you look hungry,” said Masha and out of her mother’s handkerchief she took out the crust of stale bread and fed it to the cat. When she had finished the cat jumped up onto Masha’s lap.
“Child, it is time to run, run as fast as you can, back along the path that follows your nose, for Baba Yaga is planning to eat you with her iron teeth for her dinner.”
“I will run and run as fast as I can back along the path that follows my nose, but what if Baba Yaga chases me?” asked Masha.
“Take the scarf and comb from the table and if she comes after you, first throw down her scarf and then her comb.”
“But if I stop weaving ,Clickety-click, clickety-clack! She will know that I have gone.”
“I shall do the weaving,” said the cat and the cat began to weave, Clickety-click, clickety-clack! And although the threads were soon twisted and tangled in a mess and a muddle, the cat kept on weaving Clickety-click, clickety-clack!
As Masha ran down the steps the dog came bounding up. It licked her hand and wagged its tail as it walked at her side to the gate, which opened silently to let her pass.
But when Masha ran under the birch trees that grew so close together, they stretched out their branches and catching hold of her they would not let her pass. So she undid her bright red ribbon from her hair and tied it around the lowest branch. Then the trees released Masha from their prison of branches and Masha ran and ran back along the path that followed her nose.
Baba Yaga returned to the hut. She was looking forward to dinner for her bath had given her a good appetite. Clickety-click, clickety-clack! Clickety-click, clickety-clack! She heard the sound of busy hands at the loom.
“Still working hard little girl?” she asked with a cackle.
“Oh yes! As hard and as fast as I can!” replied the cat, trying to sound like Masha.
But the old witch was not deceived and stormed in through the door, picked up the soup ladle and flung it at the cat.
“Cat, cat! Where is she… why did you let her go? You should have scratched out her eyes!”
But the cat gave a hiss and a spit, “For years and years I have served you, and yet you never gave me a single crumb from your plate. But Masha gave me her own crust of bread.”
Out went Baba Yaga on her long bony legs!
“Dog, dog! Where is she… why did you let her go? You should have bitten her hand.”
But the dog gave a howl and a growl, “For years and years I have served you, and yet you never gave me a single dry old bone. But Masha gave me her own fresh bone with its tiniest scrap of meat.” Along went Baba Yaga on her long bony legs!
“Gate, gate! Where is she… why did you let her go? You should have locked yourself shut.”
But the gate gave a creak and a squeak, “For years and years I have served you, and yet you never gave me a single drop of oil. But Masha gave me her own pat of butter to grease my hinges.”
Out of the gate went Baba Yaga on her long bony legs!
“Birch trees, birch trees! Where is she… why did you let her go? You should have caught her in the tangle of your branches.”
But the leaves of the trees rustled and sighed, “For years and years we have served you, and yet you never gave us even a piece of string to tie to our branches. But Masha gave us her own bright red ribbon.”
Then Baba Yaga gave a cry and jumped into her stone mortar and taking up her great wooden pestle she gave an enormous push and swoosh, swoosh, swoosh she chased through the forest after Masha.
Masha heard the noise swoosh, swoosh, swoosh and looking back she saw Baba Yaga chasing after her and she was getting closer and closer and nearer and nearer, so she took the scarf and dropped it behind her as she ran. The scarf turned into a great river, wide and deep and Baba Yaga’s stone mortar was too heavy to float on its waters. So Baba Yaga ran back home on her long bony legs and found her cattle. She drove them to the water where they gulped and slurped, slurped and gulped until they had drunk the river dry. And then Baba Yaga was off again, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh.
Masha heard the noise, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh and looking back she saw Baba Yaga chasing after her and she was getting closer and closer and nearer and nearer, so she took the comb and threw it down behind her as she ran. And the comb became a forest of trees within the forest.
Then Baba Yaga took out a metal file and sharpened her iron teeth. Gnash and gnaw! Gnaw and gnash! Baba Yaga started to bite her way through the trees. On and on she went. Gnash and gnaw! Gnaw and gnash! The trees fell to either side. But there were too many and she could not get through. With a scowl and a snarl she turned round and went back home.
And as for Masha- why she ran and ran back along the path that followed her nose until she had run all the way home; back to where her father was waiting for her with open arms.
“Where have you been?” he cried, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
And Masha replied. “My stepmother sent me to the house of Baba Yaga for a needle and thread, but
When her father heard what the stepmother had done he stormed into the house to find her; but she had already gone in to the deep darkness of the forest. And whether she reached the house of her sister or whether the wolf or the bear got her first, no-one ever found out, for she was never seen again.
As for Masha, she and her father lived together in peace and contentment in their house on the edge of the deep dark forest.
Click the ribbon to return to homepage
