At first the Turk laughed at her fears and said that it was only an ambassador from the Sultan. "Verily," said he, composing himself again to rest, "Strahinya will not dare to come near the tent!"
Presently his companion again roused Vlah-Ali and told him that the horseman was no messenger from Amouradh, but her own husband, Banovitch Strahinya himself, and she warned Vlah-Ali that he was in peril of his life.
Upon this, the mighty Vlah-Ali leapt to his feet, girded on a long silken sash, fastened in it a sharp gleaming yataghan, quickly belted on his shining sabre, and was soon firmly seated in his saddle.
A moment later Banovitch came up, and a fearful contest began between the two champions--heroes of almost equal renown, though not equal in strength. Strahinya addressed his opponent with reproachful and taunting words, and Vlah-Ali replied in equally offensive terms. But they did not fight only with words. Banovitch spurred Dyogo and furiously cast his spear, which the mighty Turk, stretching out his hands, caught and broke into pieces. "O Strahinya," he shouted derisively, "thou callest me a poltroon, indeed! Dost thou know to whom thou didst speak? Here is no woman of thy Serbian land whom thy threats might alarm; thou hast here to deal with the mighty Vlah-Ali who fears neither the Sultan nor his Grand Vizir, yea, not even the countless horde which they command! One and all, they are to me but a swarm of ants!" Speaking thus, he alertly reined in his sturdy horse and sent his spear whistling through the air. So straight it went to Strahinya's breast that he surely would have been stricken had the just God not helped him. Dyogo, accustomed to duels, knelt swiftly in the nick of time, so that the Turk's weapon flew over Banovitch's head and struck against a rock behind him, breaking into three pieces. Their spears being thus destroyed, the fierce warriors next grasped their heavy clubs, and rushed to close quarters. Their blows fell thick and fast until Vlah-Ali struck Strahinya so violently that he was stunned and fell forward upon Dyogo's neck. Again the true God stood by Strahinya; his beloved grey steed, trained for such a struggle, moved his head and his neck so cleverly that he threw his master back into the saddle. Strahinya, in his turn, now struck his adversary's shoulder with great force, but the mighty Turk sat unshaken, although by this time his horse's legs were sunk in the black earth up to the knees.