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Instantly–ere yet the heart could beat twice–there was a shrill chord of three sounds, and as many colours shimmered like lightning in the air. Then as the feathers blazed, came dragon hosts upon the plain; flaming eagles flocked in; and the Falcon King with his myriads swooped down. Bashtchelik was surrounded on three sides, but he dealt a mighty stroke at the Prince’s heart; and then, seeming invincible, fought his way through with much slaughter and gained the side of the Princess. Before she knew it she was caught up, and Bashtchelik was bearing her on rapid wings away.

But the Prince? Among the thick of the slain the three kings–his brothers-in-law–found him dead! But they took thought together as to how they might recall him to life, and at last decided to send for some water from the Jordan. They summoned three of the swiftest dragons and asked how long it would take to fetch it. ‘Half an hour!’ said the first. ‘Ten minutes!’ said the second; but the third said at once, ‘Nine seconds!’

So they dispatched him; and, like a flash, he winged his fiery flight, returning in nine seconds with the water from the Jordan. With this they bathed the Prince’s wounds, and they healed up at once; and lo, he rose up alive and well, but with only two lives left to him.

‘Venture not again,’ was the counsel of the three kings. ‘Go not forth against Bashtchelik, for he is perfect steel, the mightiest of all; and none can conquer him: he has all Force behind him.’

But the Prince would not accept their words of warning. ‘Force is not the strongest thing,’ he said. ‘Force is hard as steel, yet it can be overcome by the will of Love, which is so soft that it melts at a touch. In that I go forth again to conquer Bashtchelik, and regain my wife.’

They could not restrain him, but, ere he went, they counselled him again: ‘Since you are willing to risk all, you must go; but think not that by mighty blows you can conquer Bashtchelik. Get speech with your wife, and bid her learn from him, by a woman’s wit, wherein the secret of his strength lies. Then come and tell us; and, with that knowledge, we can help you to slay him.’

The Prince agreed, and parted from them. Making his way very cautiously to the cave, he waited till Bashtchelik had gone forth to the hunt, and then entered and found his wife, and bade her glean from Bashtchelik the secret of his strength. Then he returned to his place of concealment.

That evening, when Bashtchelik returned to the cave, the Princess praised his great strength and flattered him mightily upon it.

‘Tell me, I pray thee,’ she said at last, ‘wherein thy great strength lieth, and wherewith thou mightest be bound; for’–with a laugh–‘I would fain bind thee with my hair.’

Bashtchelik laughed, well pleased at her words. ‘Wouldst thou know it?’ said he. ‘My strength is in my sword; were that taken from me I should then be weak, and be as another man.’

The Princess then bowed down before his sword and did homage to it, and sang a great song of joy that all power on earth was in the sword. But, on hearing this, Bashtchelik laughed, and laughed again, saying, ‘Foolish one! my real strength lies no more in my sword than in its scabbard.’

‘Then,’ said she, ‘thou hast mocked me. Tell me, I pray thee, wherein thy strength lieth.’

‘In my bow and arrows,’ replied he. And at once the Princess bowed down and did homage to his bow and arrows, singing their praise: how swift their flight through the air, how true their aim, how deadly their piercing points.

But Bashtchelik laughed again, and again, and again.

‘Foolish one!’ said he. ‘My real strength lies not in my bow, nor in my arrows. But, tell me, why do you seek to know the secret of my strength?’