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 On sight of Vitazko he raised his head and bellowed out:

“Ho, you murderer of dragons, what do you want here?”

Nothing daunted, Vitazko replied:

“I am come to shake down some of the Golden Apples.”

“Indeed!” the dragon roared. “Then you will have to shake them down over my dead body!”

“I shall be glad to do that!” Vitazko said, springing at the dragon and at the same time twisting around the ring on his right hand and thinking of kind old St. Nedyelka.

The dragon grappled with him and for a moment almost took him off his feet. Then Vitazko plunged the dragon into the earth up to his ankles.

Just then there was the rustling of wings overhead and a black raven cawed out:

“Which of you wants my help, you, oh Mightiest Dragon, or you, Vitazko, the Victorious?”

“Help me!” the dragon roared.

“Then what will you give me?”

“As much gold as you want.”

“Nay, raven,” Vitazko shouted, “help me and I