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
