dka to be given to
the brave youth, and begged to hear the famous whistle of the Robber
Nightingale. So Iliya of Murom took the Prince and Princess under his
arm, wrapped in his sable pelisse, and ordered the Robber Nightingale
to sound his whistle softly. But the Robber whistled so loud that he
stunned all the knights and they fell flat upon the ground, whereat
Iliya of Murom was so enraged that he slew him on the spot.

Then Iliya formed a close friendship with Dobrinja Nikitich; and
saddling their steeds they rode off, and journeyed on for three months
without meeting any enemy. At length they fell in with a cripple on
the road; his beggar's cloak weighed fifty poods, his bonnet nine
poods, and his crutch was six feet long. Then Iliya of Murom rode at
him to try his courage; but the cripple said: "Ah, Iliya of Murom, do
you not remember me, and how we studied together at the same school?
And have you now the heart to slay me, a poor helpless cripple? Know
you not that a great calamity has befallen the famous city of Kiev? An
unbelieving knight, with a head as big as a beer-barrel, eyebrows a
span apart, and shoulders six feet broad, has entered it? He devours a
whole ox at a time, and drinks off a barrel of beer at a draught. The
Prince is lamenting your absence."

Then Iliya of Murom drew the cripple's cloak around him, rode off to
the city of Kiev, and going straight up to the Prince's palace, cried
aloud, "Ho there, Prince of Kiev! give alms to a poor cripple." And
when the Prince heard this he said: "Come into my palace, and I will
give you meat and drink, and money for your journey." Then Iliya went
into the palace, and seated himself near the stove; and close by sat
the idolator, who called for food and drink. Thereupon the attendants
brought him a whole roasted ox, which he ate up, bones and all; and
seven-and-twenty men brought him a barrel of beer, which he emptied at
a draught. Then said Iliya of Murom: "My father had once a greedy
horse, which ate so much that he burst." At this the idolator knight
fell into a violent rage and exclaimed: "How dare you provoke me with
such talk, you miserable cripple? Are you forsooth a match for me?
Why, look ye, I could set you on the palm of my hand, and squeeze you
like an orange. You had indeed a valiant hero in your country, Iliya
of Murom, with whom I would fain wage a battle; but you indeed----!"

"Here stands Iliya of Murom!" exclaimed the cripple; and so saying,