The Straw Bull Calf
Ukrainian Folk Tale
translated from the Ukrainian by John Weir ; illustrated by V. Lehkobit.
Once upon a time there lived an Old Man and
an Old Woman. The Old Man distilled tar, while
the Old Woman sat at home and spun thread.
One day the Old Woman went after the Old Man:
“Old Man, make me a bull-calf of straw,” she
nagged. “Make me a bull-calf of straw and smear
it with tar!”
“What nonsense! What do you want with a calf
of straw?”
“Just you make it. I know what I want it for.”
He couldn’t talk her out of it, so the Old Man
went ahead and made a bull-calf of straw and
smeared it with tar.
In the morning the Old Woman took along
some hemp and the straw bull-calf to a pasture.
She seated herself beside a mound and began
to spin, repeating the while:
“Graze on grass, my pretty calf, while I sit
and spin some thread!”
She kept spinning until she dozed off.
Meanwhile a bear ran out of the dark forest, out
of the dark woods, and ran into the bull-calf.
“Who are you?” he growled. “Tell me quick!”
“?’m a bull-calf, and I’m small, made of straw
and smeared with tar.”
“If you’re made of straw and smeared with
tar,” said the bear, “give me some tar to patch
my torn side!”
The bull-calf was silent, so the bear sank his
teeth into him to tear some tar away. He kept tear-
ing and tearing at him until his teeth got quite
stuck and he couldn’t get them free. He jerked
this way and that, but nothing doing! So he drag-
ged that bull-calf goodness knows how far away.
When the Old Woman awoke, she found the
bull-calf gone.
“Woe is me!” she cried. “Where is my bull-calf?
Perhaps he has gone home already.”
She grabbed up her spinning and ran home.
In the yard she looked-and there was a bear
dragging her bull-calf around the place.
“Old Man, come out!” she called. “Our bull-calf
has brought home a bear!”
The Old Man ran out, tore the bear loose and
threw him into the cellar.
Long before dawn the next day the Old Woman
again took her spinning and the bull-calf to the
pasture. She seated herself beside a mound, spun
thread and kept intoning:
“Graze on grass, my pretty calf, while I sit and
spin some thread!”
She kept spinning until she dozed off. Mean-
while a grey wolf ran out of the dark forest, out
of the dark woods, and ran up to the bull-calf:
“Who are you? Tell me quick!”
“’m a bull-calf, and I’m small, made of straw
and smeared with tar.”
“If you are smeared with tar,” said the wolf,
“sive me some to patch my side where the dogs
have torn my hide.”
“Go ahead, take it!”
The wolf at once sank his teeth into the bull-
calf’s side, intending to tear some tar off for
himself. He sank his fangs in, but he couldn’t
get them out. He kept backing off, dragging the
bull-calf with him. Oh, he had a time with it!
When the Old Woman awoke, the bull-calf was
nowhere to be seen.
“He has probably gone home,” she thought,
and went to the house.
There she saw the wolf dragging the bull-calf
around. She ran and told the Old Man, who
threw the wolf, too, into the cellar.
On the third day the Old Woman took the
bull-calf to pasture again. She seated herself be-
side a mound and fell asleep. A fox ran up.
“Who are you?” asked the fox.
“Pm a bull-calf, and I’m small, made of straw
and smeared with tar.”
“Give me some tar to patch up my side, dear
fellow. Cursed hounds almost tore the hide off me.”
“Take it!”
The fox too sank his teeth in and couldn’t
get them out. The Old Woman told the Old Man,
and he threw the fox into the cellar as well.
After that they also caught a fleet-footed hare.
When there was a whole collection of animals,
the Old Man seated himself over the hatch in
the cellar and began to whet his knife.
“Old Man, why are you sharpening your knife?”
asked the bear.
“To skin you with, and make winter coats out
of your hide for the Old Woman and myself.”
“Please don’t butcher me, dear Old Man. Let
me go and I’ll bring you loads of honey.”
“See that you do!”
And he set the bear free.
Then he sat over the hatch again and continued
whetting his knife.
The wolf asked him:
“Why are you sharpening the knife, Old Man?”
“To take off your hide and make myself a warm
cap for the winter.”
“Please don’t butcher me, dear Old Man, and
I'll drive a whole flock of sheep into your yard.”
“Don’t fail, now!”
And he let the wolf go.
He sat down and began to whet his knife again.
The fox stuck his sly muzzle out and asked:
“Tell me, Old Man, if you please, why are you
sharpening the knife?”
“Fox fur is fine for a fur collar and trimming,”
he replied, “and I intend to take yours.”
“Dear Old Man, don’t take my hide off and Pll
bring you geese and hens galore.”
“See that you do!” And he turned the fox loose.
Only the hare remained. The Old Man kept on
whetting his knife. The hare asked him why, and
he answered: “The fur of a hare is soft and warm.
Pll make myself a pair of mittens and a fur
cap for winter.”
“Please don’t kill me, dear Old Man, and Pll
bring you ribbons and earrings and fine necklaces,
only let me go free!”
The Old Man released him as well.
They slept the night through, and in the morning
just before dawn there was a rat-tat-tat at the
door. The Old Woman woke up:
“Old Man!” she cried. “Old Man, something’s
knocking on our. door, go and see what it is!”
The Old Man opened the door-and there was
the bear with a whole hive of honey. The Old
Man put the honey away and had just got into
bed again, when there was another rap! rap! at the
door. He went out and found that the wolf had
driven a whole flock of sheep into the yard.
Soon after that the fox brought geese and chickens
and fowl of all sorts. And the hare fetched a pile
of ribbons, earrings and fine necklaces.
The Old Man was glad, and the Old Woman
was glad.
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