“There is no help for me unless I can see the Pelican bird. Where could you get it for me?” groaned the mother.
Víťazko took his beech again, and it was no trouble to him to go to Holy Sunday once more.
“Where are you going?” asked Holy Sunday.
“Well, I am coming to you to ask for advice. Mother is still sick; the water did not cure her either, and she says she must see the Pelican bird. And where is the Pelican bird?”
“My dear child, it would be very hard for you to get the Pelican bird. But I will help you all I can. The Pelican bird is a gigantic bird. His neck is very long, and, whenever he shakes his wings, he raises such a wind that the trees begin to shake. Here is a gun; mount my magic horse, and he will bring you to the place where the Pelican bird lives. But be careful. Point the gun against the wind from whatever quarter it blows, and when the hammer falls, ram the gun with the ramrod and come quickly back. You must not look into the gun.”
Víťazko took the gun and mounted the magic horse, and the horse spread his wings, and they were flying through the air a long way until they came to a vast desert, where dwelt the Pelican bird. There the magic horse stopped. Now Víťazko perceived that the wind was blowing strongly on his left cheek, so he pointed the gun in that direction, and, clap! the hammer fell. Víťazko rammed the gun quickly with the ramrod and flung it over his shoulder, and the horse started flying, and very soon they were home again.
“Well, how did things go?”
“I don’t know whether they went well or ill, but I did what you commanded,” answered Víťazko, handing down the gun to Holy Sunday.
“All right. You did quite right. Here he is!” she said. And then she took out the Pelican bird. Then she gave Víťazko another gun to shoot an eagle with. He went out into the forest, and returned before long with an eagle. She gave him this eagle for his mother, in place of the Pelican bird.
The griffin and the mother were making merry again, hoping that Víťazko would never come back, but he was already near. They were terrified, and began to consider what new task they were to set him.
“You must pretend to be sick still, and tell him nothing can do you any good but the golden apples from the garden of the Griffin. If he goes there the Griffin will tear him in pieces, for he is enraged because Víťazko has killed his brothers.”
Joyfully Víťazko gave the bird to his mother, but she still kept on groaning; nothing was any good, only the golden apples from the garden of the Griffin could save her.
“You shall have them,” said Víťazko, and without resting, he started again and came to Holy Sunday.
“Where are you going, Víťazko?”
“Well,” he replied, “not even that did her any good. Mother is still sick, for only the golden apples from the garden of the Griffin will cure her.”
“Well, you’ll have to fight, my boy,” said Holy Sunday; “but, even though you were stronger than you are, it would be a bad look-out for you. Still, I will help you all I can. Here is a ring for you; put it on your finger, and, when you are in need, think of me, turn the ring round on your finger, and you will have the strength of a hundred men. Now mount the magic horse; he will take you there.”
Víťazko thanked her heartily, mounted the magic horse, and was carried by him a far journey, till they came to a garden hedged about by a high rampart. Had it not been for the magic horse Víťazko could never have got into the garden, but the horse flew like a bird over the rampart. Víťazko leapt down from the horse, and instantly began to look for a tree with golden apples. A beautiful girl met him and asked him what he was looking for. Víťazko said that he was looking for golden apples to cure his sick mother, and begged her to tell him where to look for them.
“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.