mother went into the cellar and brought him a glass of wine from the last cask. As soon as he had drained the first cup, crash! the first chain fell down. The mother brought him another cup and – well! the second chain snapped. So he begged her to bring him a third cup, and when she brought him the third cup the third chain broke too and the griffin was free again.
“But what am I to tell my son when he comes back?” said the mother anxiously.
“Oh! you must feign illness, and when he asks you what will save you, say that nothing can save you but a suckling of the earth sow. When he goes to get it, the sow will tear him in pieces.”
Well (but not particularly well!), when Víťazko returned from the chase, bringing a buck for his mother, she groaned and complained: “Alas! my dear son, your toil has been in vain. It is no use your bringing me this good food; I cannot eat it, for I am deadly sick.”
“Alas! mother, you must not die. Only tell me what would cure you, and I will bring it for you, even though it were from hell,” cried the good Víťazko, for he loved his mother well.
“I can only be cured if I get the suckling of the earth sow.”
Víťazko did not wait; he took his beech-tree and set off in quest of the earth sow. He wandered through the country, poor soul! for he did not know where to go, till at last he came to a tower, and there he found Holy Sunday.
“Where are you going?” asked Holy Sunday.
“I am going to the earth sow to get one of her sucklings. My mother is ill, but this will cure her.”
“My dear boy, it will be a hard task for you to get that piglet. However, I will help you. Only you must follow my advice exactly.”
Víťazko promised that he would follow it exactly. So first she gave him a long, sharp spit, and then she said:
“Go to the stable and take my horse. He will bring you to the place where the earth sow lies buried in the earth. When you have come there you must prick one of her pigs. The pig will squeak, and the sow, hearing it, will start up and run round the earth in a moment. But she won’t see you or anybody else, and so she will tell the pigs that if they squeak again she will tear them to pieces. Then she will lie down to sleep, and then you must spit the pig and run quickly away. The pig will be afraid to squeak, the sow won’t stir, and my horse will carry you away.”
Víťazko promised to carry out her directions exactly. He took the spit, mounted the magic horse, and it brought him swiftly to the place – far, very far it was – where the earth sow lay buried in the earth. Víťazko pricked one of the pigs, and it squeaked terribly. The sow started wildly up and ran round the earth in one moment. But the magic horse did not move, so the sow did not see him or anybody else, and she said angrily to the pigs:
“If one of you squeaks, I will tear you all to pieces at once.”
Having said this, she buried herself again.
At once Víťazko spitted the pig. It kept quiet and didn’t squeak at all, and the magic horse began to fly, and it wasn’t long till they were home again.
“Well, Víťazko, how did it go?” asked Holy Sunday.
“Well, it went just as you said, and here is the pig.”
“Very well. Take it to your mother.”
Víťazko gave her back the spit; he led the magic horse back to its stall, thanked Holy Sunday, and, hanging the pig from the beech-tree, made haste to go home to his mother.
The mother and the griffin were feasting; they did not expect Víťazko, and here he was. They ran away and discussed what they should do with him.
“When he has given you the pig, you must still pretend to be ill,” said the griffin; “and when he asks you what will save you, tell him that only the Water of Life and the Water of Death can cure you. If he goes in quest of that, he is bound to perish.”
Víťazko came running to the castle full of joy. He gave the pig to his mother, but she still went on groaning and complaining that she was going to die, and that the pig would not cure her.
“Alas! mother, don’t die, but tell me what will cure you, so that I may bring it for you at once,” said Víťazko anxiously.
“Ah! my dear son, I can only be cured by the Water of Life and the Water of Death, and where would you get that?” sighed the mother.
Víťazko did not waste time thinking about it. He grasped his beech, and off he went to Holy Sunday.
“Where are you going, Víťazko?” asked Holy Sunday.
“I am coming to you to ask where I could find the Water of Life and the Water of Death, for my mother is still ill, and only those will cure her.”
“It will be a hard task for you to get them, but I will help you as well as I can. Here are two jugs; mount my magic horse, and he will bring you to two banks. Beneath those two banks spring forth the Water of Life and the Water of Death. The right bank opens at noon, and from beneath it gushes the Water of Life. The left bank opens at midnight, and beneath it is the Water of Death. As soon as the bank opens, run up to it and fill your jug with water, and so you must do in the other case too. When you have the water, come back. Follow my instructions carefully.”
Saying this, she gave him two jugs. He took them and mounted the magic horse, and in a moment they were gone like the wind. The two banks were in a far distant land, and thither the magic horse brought Víťazko. At noon he raised the right bank and the Water of Life gushed forth, then, crash! the bank fell down again, and it was a wonder that it did not take Víťazko’s heels off. Quickly Víťazko mounted the magic horse and made haste for the left bank. There they waited till midnight. When the bank lifted, beneath it was the Water of Death. He hurried to it and filled the jug, and, crash! down fell the bank again; and it was a marvel it didn’t take Víťazko’s hand off. Quickly he mounted the magic horse, the horse flew off, and soon they were home again.
“Well, Víťazko, how have you fared?” asked Holy Sunday.
“Oh! everything went all right, Holy Sunday; and here is the water,” said Víťazko, giving her the water.
Holy Sunday kept the water, and gave him two jugs full of spring water and told him to take them to his mother. Víťazko thanked her and went home.
The mother and the griffin were carousing as before, for they did not expect that he would ever return – and there he was just outside. They were terribly frightened, and considered how they could get rid of him.
“You must pretend to be sick still, and tell him you won’t recover unless you get the Pelican bird, and he will perish on the quest,” said the griffin.
Víťazko brought the water joyfully, but the mother was still groaning and complaining; even that was no good, she was sure she was going to die.
“Ah! don’t die, sweet mother. Tell me what will cure you, and I shall be glad to get it all for you,” said the good lad.
“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?”
