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
