The Golden Mountain

There's something so . . . uplifting about Russian literature.  Perhaps it's fueled by the vodka and the cold weather.  I don't know.


There once was a wayward spendthrift.  Once, after much time, he had run out of money and could buy nothing to eat, so he took a shovel and went into the market place to find a job.  As he stood in the market place, a golden carriage pulled up.  The spendthrift was frightened, for he noticed that everyone else in the market place ran and hid, but he remained.

A voice from within the carriage asked, "Are you looking for work?"

The spendthrift replied, "Yes, that is why I'm here."

"Then allow me to hire you," the voice continued.  "What is your price?"

"One hundred rubles a day will be enough," the spendthrift responded.

The voice clucked at him.  "That is a steep price.  Why so high?"

"If that is not suitable to you, find someone else.  They are all hiding, but there are plenty of people here.  Perhaps some of them will be more to your liking."

The voice laughed.  "Fine, then!  Tomorrow, you will start.  Meet me at the harbor."

The next day, very early, the spendthrift went to the harbor.  There he saw a very well-dressed man.  The man had a proud and elegant way about him, and he was clearly wealthy.  He took the spendthrift onto his ship, and they set out to sea.  After many weeks at sea, they spotted land - an island.  Near the shore, there was a red and yellow glow, like fire.  The spendthrift was alarmed, and said, "There is a great and terrible fire!"

The wealthy man laughed a hearty laugh, and said, "No, that is my golden home."  

They docked the ship, and the spendthrift marveled at the wealthy man's family.  His wife, lovely and graceful, had come to meet them.  But the person who held the spendthrift's gaze was the wealthy man's daughter, who was prettier than any girl he had ever seen.

That evening, they all sat around the man's large oak table - even the servants - and ate and drank.  "Coming home is not a day of work," the wealthy man explained.  "We will work tomorrow."

During the supper, the man's daughter stole away, catching the eye of the spendthrift.  She made a motion for him to follow.  He rose, excusing himself for a moment, and met her in an adjoining room.  She handed him a flint and a touchstone, and said, "Take these.  You may soon be in need of them."

The next morning, the wealthy man and his hired spendthrift went to the golden mountain.  It was high and steep, and the spendthrift knew that there was no use climbing it.  The wealthy man said, "Let us have a drink.  For courage."  And he gave the spendthrift a drink that had been mixed with a sleeping potion.  The spendthrift grew drowsy and fell asleep.

The wealthy man took a sharp knife, which he used to gut an old and sickly horse.  He then put the spendthrift inside, pushed in the shovel, and sewed the horse's skin together.  The wealthy man then hid in the nearby bushes.

As he watched, carrion birds came and lifted the horse, carrying it to their home on top of the mountain.  There, they began to eat away at it, picking apart the flesh.  When the horse was all gone, the birds began to work on the spendthrift, but the first peck of their beaks woke him.

He sat up, pushed away the crows, and asked, "Where am I?" 

Below him, the wealthy man called up, "You are on a golden mountain.  Take your shovel and dig for gold, so that I may be wealthier."

So the spendthrift began to dig, and he threw the gold that he dug down the mountain.  The wealthy man gathered it and loaded it onto a cart.

"Enough!" the man shouted.  "Thank you for all of your help. Farewell!"

"But how am I to get down?"

"Whatever way you can find!  Though you would not be the first to die on this mountain.  Ninety-nine have perished before you, so if you don't make it, it will be an even one-hundred!"  Laughing, the wealthy man went away, taking the gold he had collected with him.

The spendthrift was fearful.  He knew he could not climb down, for it was too steep.  He also knew that to remain would be a slow death.  He grew more fearful when the carrion began circling, as if they were waiting for their next meal.

As the spendthrift thought about his life, he remembered the gift that the lovely girl had given him.  Though he did not know how they would help, he figured that action was better than nothing at all, so he took the stone and flint and struck it.  There was  a flash, and two men were standing there.

"What would you have us do?" they asked.

"Transport me to the sea," he replied.  So they did.  He stood at the dock on the island, and waved to a passing vessel.  But the vessel did not stop.  The crew, however, grew worried when a storm immediately came up, so they turned the vessel around and went back for the spendthrift.  They brought him aboard their vessel and took him back to his home.

Sometime later, the spendthrift once more took his shovel and went to the market place in order to find work.  When he saw the golden carriage approaching, he stood as everyone else hid.

The voice - which he knew belonged to the wealthy man - spoke.  "Will you work for me?"  The man did not even recognize the spendthrift.

"I will, but for two hundred rubles a day."

"Tsk.  Too expensive."

"If it is too much for you, cheap man, you may try and find others."

"Fine, boy!  Meet me tomorrow at the harbor."

They met at the harbor, boarded the ship, and sailed to the island.  That night was spent eating and drinking, as before, and the next day the wealthy man and the spendthrift went to the mountain, also as before.  The wealthy man offered his hired man a goblet of wine, and said, "A drink.  For courage."

"No, sir!  You are the master, and must drink first!  It is your right!  Allow me to pour for you."  And the spendthrift handed the wealthy man a goblet of wine, into which he had mixed a sleeping potion.  The wealthy man drank it and fell asleep.  The spendthrift killed a horse, cut it open, and put the wealthy man and the shovel inside.

The birds came and took the horse back to the top of the mountain.  After they had eaten the horse, the wealthy man awoke.  "How did I get here?" he cried. 

"You are on a golden mountain.  Now, if you dig quickly and throw the gold down, I will teach you how to come down from the mountain."

So the wealthy man dug, and when the spendthrift had filled up twelve carts, he said, "Thank you!"  Then he began to leave.

"How do I get down?" the wealthy man cried.

"However you want!  Though ninety-nine have already died, so you would make it an even one-hundred!"  And the spendthrift went away.

When he came to the palace, he married the lovely girl, and they became lords over the estate.

The wealthy man, however, died on the mountain, as his victims had died before him.  The birds ate his body.

-From Russia