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The servant came up to the ship, and saw the Fool of the World and his companions sitting there cracking jokes. He saw they were all moujiks, simple peasants, sitting in the ship; so he did not stop to ask questions, but came back quietly and told the Tzar that there were no gentlemen in the ship at all, but only a lot of dirty peasants.

Now the Tzar was not at all pleased with the idea of giving his only daughter in marriage to a simple peasant, and he began to think how he could get out of his bargain. Thinks he to himself, “I’ll set them such tasks that they will not be able to perform, and they’ll be glad to get off with their lives, and I shall get the ship for nothing.”

So he told his servant to go to the Fool and tell him that before the Tzar had finished his dinner the Fool was to bring him some of the magical water of life.

Now, while the Tzar was giving this order to his servant, the Listener, the first of the Fool’s companions, was listening, and heard the words of the Tzar and repeated them to the Fool.

“What am I to do now?” says the Fool, stopping short in his jokes. “In a year, in a whole century, I never could find that water. And he wants it before he has finished his dinner.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” says the Swift-goer, “I’ll deal with that for you.”

The servant came and announced the Tzar’s command.

“Tell him he shall have it,” says the Fool.

His companion, the Swift-goer, untied his foot from beside his head, put it to the ground, wriggled it a little to get the stiffness out of it, ran off, and was out of sight almost before he had stepped from the ship. Quicker than I can tell it you in words he had come to the water of life, and put some of it in a bottle.

“I shall have plenty of time to get back,” thinks he, and down he sits under a windmill and goes off to sleep.

The royal dinner was coming to an end, and there wasn’t a sign of him. There were no songs and no jokes in the flying ship. Everybody was watching for the Swift-goer, and thinking he would not be in time.

The Listener jumped out and laid his right ear to the damp ground, listened a moment, and said, “What a fellow! He has gone to sleep under the windmill. I can hear him snoring. And there is a fly buzzing with its wings, perched on the windmill close above his head.”

“This is my affair,” says the Far-shooter, and he picked up his gun from between his knees, aimed at the fly on the windmill, and woke the Swift-goer with the thud of the bullet on the wood of the mill close by his head. The Swift-goer leapt up and ran, and in less than a second had brought the magic water of life and given it to the Fool. The Fool gave it to the servant, who took it to the Tzar. The Tzar had not yet left the table, so that his command had been fulfilled as exactly as ever could be.

“What fellows these peasants are,” thought the Tzar. “There is nothing for it but to set them another task.” So the Tzar said to his servant, “Go to the captain of the flying ship and give him this message: ‘If you are such a cunning fellow, you must have a good appetite. Let you and your companions eat at a single meal twelve oxen roasted whole, and as much bread as can be baked in forty ovens!'”

The Listener heard the message, and told the Fool what was coming. The Fool was terrified, and said, “I can’t get through even a single loaf at a sitting.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said the Eater. “It won’t be more than a mouthful for me, and I shall be glad to have a little snack in place of my dinner.”