“The apple-tree is under my charge, and I must not give the apples to anybody, or the Griffin would tear me to pieces. I am a king’s daughter, and the Griffin carried me off and brought me to this garden and put me in charge of the apples. Go back, good youth, go back, for the Griffin is very strong, and, if he sees you, he will kill you like a fly,” said the girl.
But Víťazko was not to be turned back, and he hastened on into the garden. So the princess pulled off a priceless ring and handed it to Víťazko, saying: “Take this ring, and when you think of me and turn this ring round on your finger, you will have the strength of a hundred men, otherwise you could not gain the victory over the Griffin.”
Víťazko took the ring and put it on his finger. He thanked her and went off to the centre of the garden. In the middle of the garden stood an apple-tree full of golden apples, and underneath it a horrible Griffin was lying.
“What do you want here, murderer of my brothers?” shouted the Griffin.
“I have come to get some apples from this tree,” answered Víťazko undauntedly.
“You shall not have any of the apples unless you wrestle with me,” exclaimed the Griffin angrily.
“I will if you like. Come on!” said Víťazko, and he turned the ring on his right hand and thought of Holy Sunday. He set his legs wide apart and they began to wrestle. In the first round the Griffin moved Víťazko a little, but Víťazko drove him into the ground above his ankles. Just at this moment they heard a swirl of wings above them, and a black raven shouted to them:
“Which am I to help, the Griffin or Víťazko?”
“Help me,” said the Griffin.
“And what will you give me?”
“I will give you gold and silver as much as you like.”
“Help me,” cried Víťazko, “and I will give you all those horses grazing on yonder meadow.”
“I will help you, then,” said the raven. “But how am I to help you?”
“Cool me when I grow hot,” said Víťazko. He felt hot indeed, for the Griffin was breathing out fire against him. So they went on wrestling. The Griffin seized Víťazko and drove him into the ground up to his ankles. Víťazko turned the ring, and again he thought of Holy Sunday. He put his arms round the Griffin’s waist and drove him down into the ground above his knees. The black raven dipped his wings in a spring, and then he alighted on Víťazko’s head and sprinkled cool drops over Víťazko’s hot cheeks, and thus he cooled him. Then Víťazko turned the other ring and thought of the beautiful maiden, and they began wrestling again. So the Griffin drove Víťazko into the ground up to his ankles, but Víťazko took hold of him and drove him into the ground up to his shoulders, and quickly he seized his sword, the gift of Holy Sunday, and cut the Griffin’s head off.
The princess came to him at once and plucked the golden apples for him. She thanked him too for delivering her, and said that she liked him well and she would marry him.
“I like you well too,” confessed Víťazko, “and, if I could, I would go with you at once. But if you really love me, and if you will consent to wait a year for me, I will come to you then.”
The princess pledged herself by shaking hands with him, and she said she would wait a year for him. And so they said good-bye to each other. Víťazko mounted his horse, cleared the rampart at a leap, killed the horses on the meadow for the black raven, and hastened home.
“Well, how have you fared?” asked Holy Sunday.
“Very well, but if it hadn’t been for a ring which was given me by a princess I should have fared very badly,” answered Víťazko, and he told her everything. She told him to go home with the golden apples and to take the magic horse with him too. Víťazko obeyed.
The griffin and the mother were carousing again. They were greatly startled when Víťazko came riding home; they had never expected that he would return alive even from the garden of the Griffin. The mother asked what she should do; but the griffin had no more shifts; he made off to the tenth room at once and hid himself there. When Víťazko had given the apples to his mother, she pretended that the mere sight of them had cured her, and, rising from the bed, she put the finest of food before Víťazko and then began to caress him as she used to do sometimes when he was a tiny baby. Víťazko was delighted to see his mother in good health again. The mother took a strong cotton cord and said jestingly: “Lie down, dear son; I will wind this cord round you as I used to wind it round your father, to see if you are as strong as he was, and if you can break it.”
Víťazko smiled and laid himself down, and allowed his mother to wind the cord round him. When she had finished, he stretched his limbs and snapt the cord in pieces.
“You are strong,” she said. “But wait! I will wind this thin silk cord round you to see if you can break it also.”
So she did. Víťazko tried to stretch his limbs, but the more he stretched, the deeper the cord cut into him. So he was helpless, and had to lie like a baby in its swaddling-clothes. Now the griffin hastened to cut his head off; he hewed the body in pieces and hung the heart from the ceiling. The mother packed the body in a cloth, and put the bundle on the back of the magic horse, which was waiting in the courtyard, saying:
“You carried him alive, so you can carry him dead too, wherever you like.”
The horse did not wait, but flew off, and soon they reached home.
Holy Sunday had been expecting him, for she knew what would probably happen to him. Without delay she rubbed the body with the Water of Death, then she put it together and poured the Water of Life over it. Víťazko yawned, and rose to his feet alive and well. “Well, I have had a long sleep,” he said to himself.
“You would have been sleeping till doomsday if I hadn’t awakened you. Well, how do you feel now?”
“Oh! I am all right! Only, it’s funny: it’s as though I had not got any heart.”
“That is true; you haven’t got a heart,” answered Holy Sunday.
“Where can it be, then?”
“Where else should it be, but in the castle, hanging from the crossbeam?” said Holy Sunday, and she told him all that had happened to him.
But Víťazko could not be angry, neither could he weep, for he had no heart. So he had to go and get it. Holy Sunday gave him a fiddle and sent him to the castle. He was to play on the fiddle, and, as a reward, was to ask for the heart, and, when he got it, he must return at once to Holy Sunday – those were her orders.
Víťazko went to the castle, and when he saw that his mother was looking out of the window, he began playing beautifully. The mother was delighted with the music below, so she called the old fiddler (for Holy Sunday had put that shape upon him) into the castle and asked him to play. He played, and the mother danced with the griffin; they danced hard, and did not stop until they were tired. Then the mother gave the fiddler meat and drink, and she offered him gold, but he would not take it.
“What could I do with all that money? I am too old for it,” he answered.
“Well, what am I to give you, then? It is for you to ask,” said the mother.
“What are you to give me?” said he, looking round the room. “Oh! give me that heart, hanging there from the crossbeam!”
“If you like that, we can give it to you,” said the griffin, and the mother took it down and gave it to Víťazko. He thanked them for it, and hastened from the castle to Holy Sunday.
“It is lucky that we have got it again,” said Holy Sunday; and she took the heart in her