Vasilisa replied innocently,
‘Well, all right, yes, I’ll do that,’ and so she set out. The woods became darker and darker and sticks cracked under her feet, frightening her.
Vasilisa replied innocently,
‘Well, all right, yes, I’ll do that,’ and so she set out. The woods became darker and darker and sticks cracked under her feet, frightening her.
It began to snow and she felt very cold. She reached down in the long deep pocket of her dress and there was the doll her dying mother had given her. And Vasilisa patted the doll in her pocket and said,
‘Just touching my doll makes me feel less scared.’ And at every fork in the road, Vasilisa reached into her pocket and consulted the doll. ‘Well should I go to the right or to the left? And the doll indicated which way she should go. Vasilisa fed some of her bread to the doll and followed what she felt the doll was saying. It was very dark and she held the little doll tightly in her pocket.
Sometimes the branches of the trees pressed so close against her that she could hardly move and had to push her way through with all her strength. She was too scared of her step family to turn back, but equally frightened of what her terrible mission had in store for her.