Katai Alep was soon on his feet again, and now
commenced a wrestling match between the two
heroes which lasted for nine days, without so
much as a pause on either side for breath.

All this time, the Hard Boy, transformed into
dust, lay upon the mountain-top, while the Swan
Woman sat comfortably on his pulverised
remains. However, he was not forgotten by Alten
Chan, who swore that if the ill-used innocent
could be restored to him he would gladly give
all his herds, and all his subjects into the
bargain, to the mighty Katai Alep. To such good
purpose, indeed, did Alten Chan swear, that the
Hard Boy reappeared, in all his integrity, to the
no small surprise of the Swan Woman, who
wondered whence in the world he had come.

The Hard Boy made short work with Katai
Alep, seizing him by the waist, and dashing
him against the ground with such violence that
he smashed him, in the most extreme sense of
the word, for neither a scrap of Katai Alep's flesh,
nor a drop of his blood, was discernible. He
next flew at the Swan. Woman, but before a
combat took place a written mandate dropped
from the skies, prescribing a three days' truce,
as the earth was not at present strong enough
to endure an encounter between two such
stupendous adversaries.

Nor was the precaution needless; for when,
after the expiration of three days, the combat
did begin, mountains were overthrown, the sea
was shaken as by a storm, Kudai trembled in
heaven, and Aina (the demon) quaked in the
lower regions, through the violence of the shock.
For nine years— not days, mind— did the Hard
Boy and the Swan Woman wrestle with each
other, when at last the earth fairly gave way
beneath them, and down they both tumbled into
the seventeenth stratum, the abode of the
muscular lady: who now began to drag her
adversary towards a den in a huge thick rock, the
top of which readied to the earth's surface.
After another year's struggle, the Hard Boy
grew dizzy, and was lodged in the rock by his
adversary, who loaded him with heavy chains,
while a rock of copper shot up in the midst of
the prison. To this the boy clung, till he seemed
absorbed into its substance.

The Swan Woman, active as ever, whetted
her sword anew, and administered several severe
blows to herself, by way of a stimulant to fresh
exertions. Thus prepared, she hastened to the
district of Alten Chan. Her object was to find
a certain whity-blue foal, which, however, was
not to be seen among the Chan's numerous
horses. She accordingly leaped over three
mountains, and at the foot of a little hill
perceived the foot-marks of the foal. Now,
commenced a sharp pursuit, in which the Swan
Woman was joined by her friend Katendjula (a
gentleman of the Katai Alep kind), who rode a
blackish-brown horse, but who, as his speed did not
nearly approach that of the foal, proved but an
inefficient ally. The Swan Woman was forced,
therefore, to rely on her own agility, and soon
the foal was actually in sight, and would have
fallen into her hands had it not piously uttered
a prayer to Kudai, who sent down a thick mist,
which rendered further pursuit impossible. For
seven days did the evil demon wander about in
the unseasonable fog, while Katendjula was
groping his way at a considerable distance
behind.

By the time that the Swan Woman had made
a clear passage, by opening her mouth and gulping
down the mist— an operation which lasted
three days— the foal had betaken itself to the
jurte of Alien Irgäk (Golden Thumb): a worthy
chief, who lived in a state of single-blessedness,
and was famed for his kindness towards the
poor. To visit him was no easy matter, as the
road was impeded by a white mountain, which
was so high that even the strongest birds were
tired out before they could reach the top of it.
A single leap, however, suificed to bring the foal
to its summit, and the animal was greatly
pleased when, at the foot of the mountain on
the other side, it perceived a village extending
along the border of the White Sea, and plainly
discovered the jurte of Alten Irgäk, with the
proper golden post in front, to which a whity-
blue horse was attached.

Hastening down to the jurte, and still
continuing its flight, the foal, as it passed, contrived
to dart a glance at the horse, who, setting up a
loud neigh, woke Alten Irgäk out of a deep
slumber. This excellent person, coming out of
his jurte, could not see anything but the fleeing
foal in the distance; but this was enough to
show him that there was something wrong, for,
as he sagely observed, "the foal was a good
foal, and had never harmed anybody." Mounting
his horse, and approaching the white peak,
he now saw Katendjula, at whom he took so
true an aim that he killed both him and his
horse with a single arrow. He next encountered
the Swan Woman, who was not to be hit
at a distance, but at once engaged in a wrestling
match which lasted some days, and resulted in
the death of Alten Irgäk. Ripping up the
bosom of the deceased, and drinking a considerable
quantity of his blood, the old lady felt so
refreshed and comfortable, that she declared she
was prepared, if requisite, to run for forty years.
The foal, in the mean while, had sought the
assistance of Kara Môs, the greatest of living
heroes, communicating with him, according to
the principles of Tartar etiquette, through the
medium of the grey horse that was fastened to
the golden post in front of the jurte. Kara
Môs, who was amusing himself with his harp,
came out at the summons of his steed, and at
once perceived that the foal was the foal of
virtuous repute, and that the boy he
carried—

[" Stop a moment," says the careful reader,
"we did not hear that the foal carried any one.
Are we to suppose that the Hard Boy has been
riding all this time on the animal's back?"
Suppose as thou. wilt, good reader, and if thou
findest a gap, fill it up according to thine own
fancy. I merely tell the tale as it is given me,
and undertake no repairs.]

— And that the boy he carried, was the