never given me even a rag; but the kind little girl gave me a pretty
handkerchief."

Baba Yaga gnashed at them with her iron teeth. Then she jumped into
the mortar and sat down. She drove it along with the pestle, and swept
up her tracks with a besom, and flew off in pursuit of the little
girl.

The little girl ran and ran. She put her ear to the ground and
listened. Bang, bang, bangety bang! she could hear Baba Yaga beating
the mortar with the pestle. Baba Yaga was quite close. There she was,
beating with the pestle and sweeping with the besom, coming along the
road.

As quickly as she could, the little girl took out the towel and threw
it on the ground. And the towel grew bigger and bigger, and wetter and
wetter, and there was a deep, broad river between Baba Yaga and the
little girl.

The little girl turned and ran on. How she ran!

Baba Yaga came flying up in the mortar. But the mortar could not float
in the river with Baba Yaga inside. She drove it in, but only got wet
for her trouble. Tongs and pokers tumbling down a chimney are nothing
to the noise she made as she gnashed her iron teeth. She turned home,
and went flying back to the little hut on hen's legs. Then she got
together all her cattle and drove them to the river.

"Drink, drink!" she screamed at them; and the cattle drank up all the
river to the last drop. And Baba Yaga, sitting in the mortar, drove it