Long ago, before the lands were tamed and the waters calmed, there was a village in the mountains that was terrorized by a mighty drachen. One by one, they sent their young men to fight the drachen, but none returned. Finally, there were no young men left but the village simpleton. With no options left, the village elders sent the simpleton, who took his balalaika and wandered forlornly into the mountains.
As the lad approached the drachen's lair, he got an idea--he would create a youth out of snow in his stead! Acting quickly, he built a man out of snow in front of the drachen's cave and went home, whistling and playing his balalaika. He told the elders what he had done, and they shook their heads, but allowed him to return. That night, they heard a roar, but the drachen did not come down to the village.
But the next day, there was still nobody left but the simpleton, so again they sent him to fight the drachen. Once again, he entered the woods sadly, playing his balalaika and sighing. When he reached the drachen's cave, he saw that there was still snow on the ground, and made a second man of snow. He returned home again, whistling, and that night they heard naught but another roar, and the drachen did not come down to the village.
But again, the next day there was nobody left but the simpleton, who was sent out once again to fight the drachen. He trekked once more up the mountain, playing his balalaika and sighing. When he reached the drachen's cave, he found that there was enough snow for one more figure, but, being lonely, he created a snow maiden, for none of the maidens in the village would be seen with a simpleton.
When he had finished, he realized with horror that the drachen would surely destroy the maiden as he had destroyed the youths before her. "Woe is me!" he cried, "for my one true love will surely be melted before I ever lie in her sweet embrace!" and he fell on the maiden and wept bitter tears.
But no sooner did his tears fall on the maiden's shoulders but her lips grew rosy and her eyes opened. She looked at the simpleton and smiled. Then she began nodding her head and moving her arms and legs. She shook off the snow, and a living girl walked out of the snowdrift.
The simpleton rejoiced and kissed the maiden, but soon grew unhappy again. "Why do you weep?" asked the Snow Maiden.
"Alas, I have been sent to fight the drachen in this cave to save my village, but he will surely devour me," replied the simpleton.
"You shall not be devoured," said the Snow Maiden. "Take your balalaika and sit in the tree. When I tell you, you must play sweetly."
And so the simpleton climbed into the tree. Not long after, the drachen crawled out of his cave, smoke billowing from his nostrils. "Have the villagers run out of youths, that they send a maiden against me?" laughed the drachen.
"Nay, the villagers have sent me to entertain you," replied the Snow Maiden. "See, they have sent the wind to blow through the trees, and play for your enjoyment." And the simpleton took out his balalaika and began to play an old folk melody from his perch in the tree.
The drachen thought this was very fine, and began to preen. "And what else do they send me?" he asked.
"They have sent the animals to bring you food," the Snow Maiden replied, and at a gesture, a snow-fox ran up carrying a plate of nuts and a snow-hare hopped up carrying a cup of steaming-hot water, both of which the Snow Maiden took. Then a snow-bird flew down with three fire-berries in its mouth, which the Snow Maiden took and dropped into the water, where they dissolved instantly. These she gave to the drachen, who ate and drank greedily.
But the fire-berries were enchanted berries from the thrice-tenth kingdom, and no sooner had the drachen finished his meal but he fell asleep and snored loudly so that the earth shook. Then the Snow Maiden took the hand of the simpleton, and the two of them entered the cave, where they found great piles of gold and jewels, with which they filled their pockets. And the couple returned to the village, where there was great merriment and feasting.
And the village elders sent to the other villages on the mountain, and they proclaimed the simpleton their king, and he made them build a great castle with the wealth from the drachen's lair, which they built right over the sleeping drachen. And the simpleton made to make the Snow Maiden his queen on the great high feast day of the summer.
But as the snow melted and the sun shone brighter, the Snow Maiden became melancholy. The simpleton asked what was wrong, but she would only reply, "It is nothing, my love. I am well."
One day a black cloud approached and spilled large balls of hail onto the earth. The Snow Maiden rejoiced over the hail, which looked like pearls raining down.
When the sun peeked out again and the hail melted, the Snow Maiden burst into tears. She wept bitterly, as a sister weeps over the loss of a brother.
Finally the day of the wedding came, just as the castle was finished being built. There was much feasting and the girls of the village picked flowers and wove wreaths. They sang songs and danced the khorovod. Only the Snow Maiden was melancholy.
When it grew dark, they gathered twigs and made a bonfire. They danced around it, and couples began jumping, one after the other, over the fire. The new couple stood behind the others, last in line. When it was the king and queen's turn, they held hands and began running. They ran quickly and jumped over the fire and--suddenly the Snow Maiden melted, turning into a soft white cloud.
The white cloud drifted and rose high into the sky. The king cried out, but the cloud blew away to the north, and he heard a plaintive moaning, which sounded like "oh!"
The king ruled the mountain for many years, but always reserved a special table for guests from the north, who he would ply with wine and drink for tales of a soft white cloud, or of a maiden made from snow. One day, he left his crown on his throne and rode north himself, and was never seen again. Some say he entered the thrice-tenth kingdom, and searches still.
And every year at the great high feast day of summer, they tell this tale at the castle with the sleeping drachen. And I was there and heard the tale, drinking beer and mead, and hardly wet my moustache.