Ivan began immediately to pluck some of the finest flowers. While doing so, a thorn pricked his hand, and the wound bled. At the sight of the blood the princess was moved with pity. She took her own silk handkerchief, and bound the gardener's hand with it.
Now about this time news came that a neighbouring infidel king had declared war against the czar, and had advanced towards the capital with a powerful army. A great battle began.
Ivan cut down a lime tree, made a stout beam of it, went into the fields, and whistled and called loudly for his horse. In an instant his beautiful horse appeared. The earth shook as he galloped. Ivan mounted him and rushed against the enemy. He seized from one a sword, from another a golden helmet, put the helmet on his head and drew down the visor. He then fought and defeated the whole army.
The czar was amazed, and wondered who the knight could be, and whence he came. He did not suppose, even for a moment, that the knight was his own gardener. The people thought he was perhaps St. George himself on his white horse. The enemy was dispersed, and had left their baggage behind them. The strange knight galloped away, and was seen no more.
The czar returned home, and praising the unknown knight's bravery, said to his daughter,—
