{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_35334/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_35334","id":"gutenberg_35334","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35334","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Folklore -- Asia","Legends -- Asia","Tales -- Asia"],"text":"</pre>\n\n\n\nProduced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Sam W. and the\nOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n          FOLK-LORE\n             AND\n           LEGENDS\n\n          ORIENTAL\n\n\n        [Decoration]\n\n\n       W. W. GIBBINGS\n  18 BURY ST., LONDON, W.C.\n            1889\n\n\n\n\nPREFATORY NOTE\n\n\nThe East is rich in Folklore, and the lorist is not troubled to discover\nmaterial, but to select only that which it is best worth his while to\npreserve. The conditions under which the people live are most favourable\nto the preservation of the ancient legends, and the cultivation of the\npowers of narration fits the Oriental to present his stories in a more\npolished style than is usual in the Western countries. The reader of\nthese tales will observe many points of similarity between them and the\npopular fictions of the West--similarity of thought and incident--and\nnothing, perhaps, speaks more eloquently the universal brotherhood of\nman than this oneness of folk-fiction. At the same time, the Tales of\nthe East are unique, lighted up as they are by a gorgeous extravagance\nof imagination which never fails to attract and delight.\n\n                                                    C. J. T.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n\n                                                             PAGE\n\n    The Cobbler Astrologer,                                     1\n\n    The Legend of the Terrestrial Paradise of Sheddad,\n        the Son of 'A'd,                                       21\n\n    The Tomb of Noosheerwan,                                   30\n\n    Ameen and the Ghool,                                       37\n\n    The Relations of Ssidi Kur,                                47\n      The Adventures of the Rich Youth,                        53\n      The Adventures of the Beggar's Son,                      58\n      The Adventures of Massang,                               68\n      The Magician with the Swine's Head,                      77\n      The History of Sunshine and his Brother,                 89\n      The Wonderful Man who overcame the Chan,                 96\n      The Bird-Man,                                           101\n      The Painter and the Wood-carver,                        106\n      The Stealing of the Heart,                              110\n      The Man and his Wife,                                   115\n      Of the Maiden Ssuwarandari,                             119\n\n    The Two Cats,                                             127\n\n    Legend of Dhurrumnath,                                    132\n\n    The Traveller's Adventure,                                135\n\n    The Seven Stages of Roostem,                              141\n\n    The Man who never Laughed,                                151\n\n    The Fox and the Wolf,                                     162\n\n    The Shepherd and the Jogie,                               184\n\n    The Perfidious Vizier,                                    186\n\n\n\n\nTHE COBBLER ASTROLOGER.\n\n\nIn the great city of Isfahan lived Ahmed the cobbler, an honest and\nindustrious man, whose wish was to pass through life quietly; and he\nmight have done so, had he not married a handsome wife, who, although\nshe had condescended to accept of him as a husband, was far from being\ncontented with his humble sphere of life.\n\nSittara, such was the name of Ahmed's wife, was ever forming foolish\nschemes of riches and grandeur; and though Ahmed never encouraged\nthem, he was too fond a husband to quarrel with what gave her\npleasure. An incredulous smile or a shake of the head was his only\nanswer to her often-told day-dreams; and she continued to persuade\nherself that she was certainly destined to great fortune.\n\nIt happened one evening, while in this temper of mind, that she went\nto the Hemmam, where she saw a lady retiring dressed in a magnificent\nrobe, covered with jewels, and surrounded by slaves. This was the very\ncondition Sittara had always longed for, and she eagerly inquired the\nname of the happy person who had so many attendants and such fine\njewels. She learned it was the wife of the chief astrologer to the\nking. With this information she returned home. Her husband met her at\nthe door, but was received with a frown, nor could all his caresses\nobtain a smile or a word; for several hours she continued silent, and\nin apparent misery. At length she said--\n\n\"Cease your caresses, unless you are ready to give me a proof that you\ndo really and sincerely love me.\"\n\n\"What proof of love,\" exclaimed poor Ahmed, \"can you desire which I\nwill not give?\"\n\n\"Give over cobbling; it is a vile, low trade, and never yields more\nthan ten or twelve dinars a day. Turn astrologer! your fortune will be\nmade, and I shall have all I wish, and be happy.\"\n\n\"Astrologer!\" cried Ahmed,--\"astrologer! Have you forgotten who I\nam--a cobbler, without any learning--that you want me to engage in a\nprofession which requires so much skill and knowledge?\"\n\n\"I neither think nor care about your qualifications,\" said the enraged\nwife; \"all I know is, that if you do not turn astrologer immediately I\nwill be divorced from you to-morrow.\"\n\nThe cobbler remonstrated, but in vain. The figure of the astrologer's\nwife, with her jewels and her slaves, had taken complete possession of\nSittara's imagination. All night it haunted her; she dreamt of\nnothing else, and on awaking declared she would leave the house if her\nhusband did not comply with her wishes. What could poor Ahmed do? He\nwas no astrologer, but he was dotingly fond of his wife, and he could\nnot bear the idea of losing her. He promised to obey, and, having sold\nhis little stock, bought an astrolabe, an astronomical almanac, and a\ntable of the twelve signs of the zodiac. Furnished with these he went\nto the market-place, crying, \"I am an astrologer! I know the sun, and\nthe moon, and the stars, and the twelve signs of the zodiac; I can\ncalculate nativities; I can foretell everything that is to happen!\"\n\nNo man was better known than Ahmed the cobbler. A crowd soon gathered\nround him. \"What! friend Ahmed,\" said one, \"have you worked till your\nhead is turned?\" \"Are you tired of looking down at your last,\" cried\nanother, \"that you are now looking up at the planets?\" These and a\nthousand other jokes assailed the ears of the poor cobbler, who,\nnotwithstanding, continued to exclaim that he was an astrologer,\nhaving resolved on doing what he could to please his beautiful wife.\n\nIt so happened that the king's jeweller was passing by. He was in\ngreat distress, having lost the richest ruby belonging to the crown.\nEvery search had been made to recover this inestimable jewel, but to\nno purpose; and as the jeweller knew he could no longer conceal its\nloss from the king, he looked forward to death as inevitable. In this\nhopeless state, while wandering about the town, he reached the crowd\naround Ahmed and asked what was the matter. \"Don't you know Ahmed the\ncobbler?\" said one of the bystanders, laughing; \"he has been inspired,\nand is become an astrologer.\"\n\nA drowning man will catch at a broken reed: the jeweller no sooner\nheard the sound of the word astrologer, than he went up to Ahmed, told\nhim what had happened, and said, \"If you understand your art, you must\nbe able to discover the king's ruby. Do so, and I will give you two\nhundred pieces of gold. But if you do not succeed within six hours, I\nwill use all my influence at court to have you put to death as an\nimpostor.\"\n\nPoor Ahmed was thunderstruck. He stood long without being able to move\nor speak, reflecting on his misfortunes, and grieving, above all, that\nhis wife, whom he so loved, had, by her envy and selfishness, brought\nhim to such a fearful alternative. Full of these sad thoughts, he\nexclaimed aloud, \"O woman, woman! thou art more baneful to the\nhappiness of man than the poisonous dragon of the desert!\"\n\nThe lost ruby had been secreted by the jeweller's wife, who,\ndisquieted by those alarms which ever attend guilt, sent one of her\nfemale slaves to watch her husband. This slave, on seeing her master\nspeak to the astrologer, drew near; and when she heard Ahmed, after\nsome moments of apparent abstraction, compare a woman to a poisonous\ndragon, she was satisfied that he must know everything. She ran to her\nmistress, and, breathless with fear, cried, \"You are discovered, my\ndear mistress, you are discovered by a vile astrologer. Before six\nhours are past the whole story will be known, and you will become\ninfamous, if you are even so fortunate as to escape with life, unless\nyou can find some way of prevailing on him to be merciful.\" She then\nrelated what she had seen and heard; and Ahmed's exclamation carried\nas complete conviction to the mind of the terrified mistress as it had\ndone to that of her slave.\n\nThe jeweller's wife, hastily throwing on her veil, went in search of\nthe dreaded astrologer. When she found him, she threw herself at his\nfeet, crying, \"Spare my honour and my life, and I will confess\neverything!\"\n\n\"What can you have to confess to me?\" exclaimed Ahmed in amazement.\n\n\"Oh, nothing! nothing with which you are not already acquainted. You\nknow too well that I stole the ruby from the king's crown. I did so to\npunish my husband, who uses me most cruelly; and I thought by this\nmeans to obtain riches for myself, and to have him put to death. But\nyou, most wonderful man, from whom nothing is hidden, have discovered\nand defeated my wicked plan. I beg only for mercy, and will do\nwhatever you command me.\"\n\nAn angel from heaven could not have brought more consolation to Ahmed\nthan did the jeweller's wife. He assumed all the dignified solemnity\nthat became his new character, and said, \"Woman! I know all thou hast\ndone, and it is fortunate for thee that thou hast come to confess thy\nsin and beg for mercy before it was too late. Return to thy house, put\nthe ruby under the pillow of the couch on which thy husband sleeps;\nlet it be laid on the side furthest from the door; and be satisfied\nthy guilt shall never be even suspected.\"\n\nThe jeweller's wife returned home, and did as she was desired. In an\nhour Ahmed followed her, and told the jeweller he had made his\ncalculations, and found by the aspect of the sun and moon, and by the\nconfiguration of the stars, that the ruby was at that moment lying\nunder the pillow of his couch, on the side furthest from the door. The\njeweller thought Ahmed must be crazy; but as a ray of hope is like a\nray from heaven to the wretched, he ran to his couch, and there, to\nhis joy and wonder, found the ruby in the very place described. He\ncame back to Ahmed, embraced him, called him his dearest friend and\nthe preserver of his life, and gave him the two hundred pieces of\ngold, declaring that he was the first astrologer of the age.\n\nThese praises conveyed no joy to the poor cobbler, who returned home\nmore thankful to God for his preservation than elated by his good\nfortune. The moment he entered the door his wife ran up to him and\nexclaimed, \"Well, my dear astrologer! what success?\"\n\n\"There!\" said Ahmed, very gravely,--\"there are two hundred pieces of\ngold. I hope you will be satisfied now, and not ask me again to hazard\nmy life, as I have done this morning.\" He then related all that had\npassed. But the recital made a very different impression on the lady\nfrom what these occurrences had made on Ahmed. Sittara saw nothing but\nthe gold, which would enable her to vie with the chief astrologer's\nwife at the Hemmam. \"Courage!\" she said, \"courage! my dearest husband.\nThis is only your first labour in your new and noble profession. Go on\nand prosper, and we shall become rich and happy.\"\n\nIn vain Ahmed remonstrated and represented the danger; she burst into\ntears, and accused him of not loving her, ending with her usual threat\nof insisting upon a divorce.\n\nAhmed's heart melted, and he agreed to make another trial.\nAccordingly, next morning he sallied forth with his astrolabe, his\ntwelve signs of the zodiac, and his almanac, exclaiming, as before, \"I\nam an astrologer! I know the sun, and the moon, and the stars, and the\ntwelve signs of the zodiac; I can calculate nativities; I can\nforetell everything that is to happen!\" A crowd again gathered round\nhim, but it was now with wonder, and not ridicule; for the story of\nthe ruby had gone abroad, and the voice of fame had converted the poor\ncobbler Ahmed into the ablest and most learned astrologer that was\never seen at Isfahan.\n\nWhile everybody was gazing at him, a lady passed by veiled. She was\nthe wife of one of the richest merchants in the city, and had just\nbeen at the Hemmam, where she had lost a valuable necklace and\nearrings. She was now returning home in great alarm lest her husband\nshould suspect her of having given her jewels to a lover. Seeing the\ncrowd around Ahmed, she asked the reason of their assembling, and was\ninformed of the whole story of the famous astrologer: how he had been\na cobbler, was inspired with supernatural knowledge, and could, with\nthe help of his astrolabe, his twelve signs of the zodiac, and his\nalmanac, discover all that ever did or ever would happen in the world.\nThe story of the jeweller and the king's ruby was then told her,\naccompanied by a thousand wonderful circumstances which had never\noccurred. The lady, quite satisfied of his skill, went up to Ahmed and\nmentioned her loss, saying: \"A man of your knowledge and penetration\nwill easily discover my jewels; find them, and I will give you fifty\npieces of gold.\"\n\nThe poor cobbler was quite confounded, and looked down, thinking only\nhow to escape without a public exposure of his ignorance. The lady, in\npressing through the crowd, had torn the lower part of her veil.\nAhmed's downcast eyes noticed this; and wishing to inform her of it in\na delicate manner, before it was observed by others, he whispered to\nher, \"Lady, look down at the rent.\" The lady's head was full of her\nloss, and she was at that moment endeavouring to recollect how it\ncould have occurred. Ahmed's speech brought it at once to her mind,\nand she exclaimed in delighted surprise: \"Stay here a few moments,\nthou great astrologer. I will return immediately with the reward thou\nso well deservest.\" Saying this, she left him, and soon returned,\ncarrying in one hand the necklace and earrings, and in the other a\npurse with the fifty pieces of gold. \"There is gold for thee,\" she\nsaid, \"thou wonderful man, to whom all the secrets of Nature are\nrevealed! I had quite forgotten where I laid the jewels, and without\nthee should never have found them. But when thou desiredst me to look\nat the rent below, I instantly recollected the rent near the bottom of\nthe wall in the bathroom, where, before undressing, I had hid them. I\ncan now go home in peace and comfort; and it is all owing to thee,\nthou wisest of men!\"\n\nAfter these words she walked away, and Ahmed returned to his home,\nthankful to Providence for his preservation, and fully resolved never\nagain to tempt it. His handsome wife, however, could not yet rival\nthe chief astrologer's lady in her appearance at the Hemmam, so she\nrenewed her entreaties and threats, to make her fond husband continue\nhis career as an astrologer.\n\nAbout this time it happened that the king's treasury was robbed of\nforty chests of gold and jewels, forming the greater part of the\nwealth of the kingdom. The high treasurer and other officers of state\nused all diligence to find the thieves, but in vain. The king sent for\nhis astrologer, and declared that if the robbers were not detected by\na stated time, he, as well as the principal ministers, should be put\nto death. Only one day of the short period given them remained. All\ntheir search had proved fruitless, and the chief astrologer, who had\nmade his calculations and exhausted his art to no purpose, had quite\nresigned himself to his fate, when one of his friends advised him to\nsend for the wonderful cobbler, who had become so famous for his\nextraordinary discoveries. Two slaves were immediately despatched for\nAhmed, whom they commanded to go with them to their master. \"You see\nthe effects of your ambition,\" said the poor cobbler to his wife; \"I\nam going to my death. The king's astrologer has heard of my\npresumption, and is determined to have me executed as an impostor.\"\n\nOn entering the palace of the chief astrologer, he was surprised to\nsee that dignified person come forward to receive him, and lead him to\nthe seat of honour, and not less so to hear himself thus addressed:\n\"The ways of Heaven, most learned and excellent Ahmed, are\nunsearchable. The high are often cast down, and the low are lifted up.\nThe whole world depends upon fate and fortune. It is my turn now to be\ndepressed by fate; it is thine to be exalted by fortune.\"\n\nHis speech was here interrupted by a messenger from the king, who,\nhaving heard of the cobbler's fame, desired his attendance. Poor Ahmed\nnow concluded that it was all over with him, and followed the king's\nmessenger, praying to God that he would deliver him from this peril.\nWhen he came into the king's presence, he bent his body to the ground,\nand wished his majesty long life and prosperity. \"Tell me, Ahmed,\"\nsaid the king, \"who has stolen my treasure?\"\n\n\"It was not one man,\" answered Ahmed, after some consideration; \"there\nwere forty thieves concerned in the robbery.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said the king; \"but who were they? and what have they\ndone with my gold and jewels?\"\n\n\"These questions,\" said Ahmed, \"I cannot now answer; but I hope to\nsatisfy your Majesty, if you will grant me forty days to make my\ncalculations.\"\n\n\"I grant you forty days,\" said the king; \"but when they are past, if\nmy treasure is not found, your life shall pay the forfeit.\"\n\nAhmed returned to his house well pleased; for he resolved to take\nadvantage of the time allowed him to fly from a city where his fame\nwas likely to be his ruin.\n\n\"Well, Ahmed,\" said his wife, as he entered, \"what news at Court?\"\n\n\"No news at all,\" said he, \"except that I am to be put to death at the\nend of forty days, unless I find forty chests of gold and jewels which\nhave been stolen from the royal treasury.\"\n\n\"But you will discover the thieves.\"\n\n\"How? By what means am I to find them?\"\n\n\"By the same art which discovered the ruby and the lady's necklace.\"\n\n\"The same art!\" replied Ahmed. \"Foolish woman! thou knowest that I\nhave no art, and that I have only pretended to it for the sake of\npleasing thee. But I have had sufficient skill to gain forty days,\nduring which time we may easily escape to some other city; and with\nthe money I now possess, and the aid of my former occupation, we may\nstill obtain an honest livelihood.\"\n\n\"An honest livelihood!\" repeated his lady, with scorn. \"Will thy\ncobbling, thou mean, spiritless wretch, ever enable me to go to the\nHemmam like the wife of the chief astrologer? Hear me, Ahmed! Think\nonly of discovering the king's treasure. Thou hast just as good a\nchance of doing so as thou hadst of finding the ruby, and the necklace\nand earrings. At all events, I am determined thou shalt not escape;\nand shouldst thou attempt to run away, I will inform the king's\nofficers, and have thee taken up and put to death, even before the\nforty days are expired. Thou knowest me too well, Ahmed, to doubt my\nkeeping my word. So take courage, and endeavour to make thy fortune,\nand to place me in that rank of life to which my beauty entitles me.\"\n\nThe poor cobbler was dismayed at this speech; but knowing there was no\nhope of changing his wife's resolution, he resigned himself to his\nfate. \"Well,\" said he, \"your will shall be obeyed. All I desire is to\npass the few remaining days of my life as comfortably as I can. You\nknow I am no scholar, and have little skill in reckoning; so there are\nforty dates: give me one of them every night after I have said my\nprayers, that I may put them in a jar, and, by counting them may\nalways see how many of the few days I have to live are gone.\"\n\nThe lady, pleased at carrying her point, took the dates, and promised\nto be punctual in doing what her husband desired.\n\nMeanwhile the thieves who had stolen the king's treasure, having been\nkept from leaving the city by fear of detection and pursuit, had\nreceived accurate information of every measure taken to discover them.\nOne of them was among the crowd before the palace on the day the king\nsent for Ahmed; and hearing that the cobbler had immediately declared\ntheir exact number, he ran in a fright to his comrades, and exclaimed,\n\"We are all found out! Ahmed, the new astrologer, has told the king\nthat there are forty of us.\"\n\n\"There needed no astrologer to tell that,\" said the captain of the\ngang. \"This Ahmed, with all his simple good-nature, is a shrewd\nfellow. Forty chests having been stolen, he naturally guessed that\nthere must be forty thieves, and he has made a good hit, that is all;\nstill it is prudent to watch him, for he certainly has made some\nstrange discoveries. One of us must go to-night, after dark, to the\nterrace of this cobbler's house, and listen to his conversation with\nhis handsome wife; for he is said to be very fond of her, and will, no\ndoubt, tell her what success he has had in his endeavours to detect\nus.\"\n\nEverybody approved of this scheme; and soon after nightfall one of the\nthieves repaired to the terrace. He arrived there just as the cobbler\nhad finished his evening prayers, and his wife was giving him the\nfirst date. \"Ah!\" said Ahmed, as he took it, \"there is one of the\nforty.\"\n\nThe thief, hearing these words, hastened in consternation to the gang,\nand told them that the moment he took his post he had been perceived\nby the supernatural knowledge of Ahmed, who immediately told his wife\nthat one of them was there. The spy's tale was not believed by his\nhardened companions; something was imputed to his fears; he might have\nbeen mistaken;--in short, it was determined to send two men the next\nnight at the same hour. They reached the house just as Ahmed, having\nfinished his prayers, had received the second date, and heard him\nexclaim, \"My dear wife, to-night there are two of them!\"\n\nThe astonished thieves fled, and told their still incredulous comrades\nwhat they had heard. Three men were consequently sent the third night,\nfour the fourth, and so on. Being afraid of venturing during the day,\nthey always came as evening closed in, and just as Ahmed was receiving\nhis date, hence they all in turn heard him say that which convinced\nthem he was aware of their presence. On the last night they all went,\nand Ahmed exclaimed aloud, \"The number is complete! To-night the whole\nforty are here!\"\n\nAll doubts were now removed. It was impossible that Ahmed should have\ndiscovered them by any natural means. How could he ascertain their\nexact number? and night after night, without ever once being mistaken?\nHe must have learnt it by his skill in astrology. Even the captain now\nyielded, in spite of his incredulity, and declared his opinion that it\nwas hopeless to elude a man thus gifted; he therefore advised that\nthey should make a friend of the cobbler, by confessing everything to\nhim, and bribing him to secrecy by a share of the booty.\n\nHis advice was approved of, and an hour before dawn they knocked at\nAhmed's door. The poor man jumped out of bed, and supposing the\nsoldiers were come to lead him to execution, cried out, \"Have\npatience! I know what you are come for. It is a very unjust and wicked\ndeed.\"\n\n\"Most wonderful man!\" said the captain, as the door was opened, \"we\nare fully convinced that thou knowest why we are come, nor do we mean\nto justify the action of which thou speakest. Here are two thousand\npieces of gold, which we will give thee, provided thou wilt swear to\nsay nothing more about the matter.\"\n\n\"Say nothing about it!\" said Ahmed. \"Do you think it possible I can\nsuffer such gross wrong and injustice without complaining, and making\nit known to all the world?\"\n\n\"Have mercy upon us!\" exclaimed the thieves, falling on their knees;\n\"only spare our lives, and we will restore the royal treasure.\"\n\nThe cobbler started, rubbed his eyes to see if he were asleep or\nawake; and being satisfied that he was awake, and that the men before\nhim were really the thieves, he assumed a solemn tone, and said:\n\"Guilty men! ye are persuaded that ye cannot escape from my\npenetration, which reaches unto the sun and moon, and knows the\nposition and aspect of every star in the heavens. Your timely\nrepentance has saved you. But ye must immediately restore all that ye\nhave stolen. Go straightway, and carry the forty chests exactly as ye\nfound them, and bury them a foot deep under the southern wall of the\nold ruined Hemmam, beyond the king's palace. If ye do this punctually,\nyour lives are spared; but if ye fail in the slightest degree,\ndestruction will fall upon you and your families.\"\n\nThe thieves promised obedience to his commands and departed. Ahmed\nthen fell on his knees, and returned thanks to God for this signal\nmark of his favour. About two hours after the royal guards came, and\ndesired Ahmed to follow them. He said he would attend them as soon as\nhe had taken leave of his wife, to whom he determined not to impart\nwhat had occurred until he saw the result. He bade her farewell very\naffectionately; she supported herself with great fortitude on this\ntrying occasion, exhorting her husband to be of good cheer, and said a\nfew words about the goodness of Providence. But the fact was, Sittara\nfancied that if God took the worthy cobbler to himself, her beauty\nmight attract some rich lover, who would enable her to go to the\nHemmam with as much splendour as the astrologer's lady, whose image,\nadorned with jewels and fine clothes, and surrounded by slaves, still\nhaunted her imagination.\n\nThe decrees of Heaven are just: a reward suited to their merits\nawaited Ahmed and his wife. The good man stood with a cheerful\ncountenance before the king, who was impatient for his arrival, and\nimmediately said, \"Ahmed, thy looks are promising; hast thou\ndiscovered my treasure?\"\n\n\"Does your Majesty require the thieves or the treasure? The stars will\nonly grant one or the other,\" said Ahmed, looking at his table of\nastrological calculations. \"Your Majesty must make your choice. I can\ndeliver up either, but not both.\"\n\n\"I should be sorry not to punish the thieves,\" answered the king; \"but\nif it must be so, I choose the treasure.\"\n\n\"And you give the thieves a full and free pardon?\"\n\n\"I do, provided I find my treasure untouched.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Ahmed, \"if your majesty will follow me, the treasure\nshall be restored to you.\"\n\nThe king and all his nobles followed the cobbler to the ruins of the\nold Hemmam. There, casting his eyes towards heaven, Ahmed muttered\nsome sounds, which were supposed by the spectators to be magical\nconjurations, but which were in reality the prayers and thanksgivings\nof a sincere and pious heart to God for his wonderful deliverance.\nWhen his prayer was finished, he pointed to the southern wall, and\nrequested that his majesty would order his attendants to dig there.\nThe work was hardly begun, when the whole forty chests were found in\nthe same state as when stolen, with the treasurer's seal upon them\nstill unbroken.\n\nThe king's joy knew no bounds; he embraced Ahmed, and immediately\nappointed him his chief astrologer, assigned to him an apartment in\nthe palace, and declared that he should marry his only daughter, as it\nwas his duty to promote the man whom God had so singularly favoured,\nand had made instrumental in restoring the treasures of his kingdom.\nThe young princess, who was more beautiful than the moon, was not\ndissatisfied with her father's choice; for her mind was stored with\nreligion and virtue, and she had learnt to value beyond all earthly\nqualities that piety and learning which she believed Ahmed to possess.\nThe royal will was carried into execution as soon as formed. The wheel\nof fortune had taken a complete turn. The morning had found Ahmed in a\nwretched hovel, rising from a sorry bed, in the expectation of losing\nhis life; in the evening he was the lord of a rich palace, and married\nto the only daughter of a powerful king. But this change did not alter\nhis character. As he had been meek and humble in adversity, he was\nmodest and gentle in prosperity. Conscious of his own ignorance, he\ncontinued to ascribe his good fortune solely to the favour of\nProvidence. He became daily more attached to the beautiful and\nvirtuous princess whom he had married; and he could not help\ncontrasting her character with that of his former wife, whom he had\nceased to love, and of whose unreasonable and unfeeling vanity he was\nnow fully sensible.\n\n\n\n\nTHE LEGEND OF THE TERRESTRIAL PARADISE OF SHEDDAD, THE SON OF 'A'D.\n\n\nIt is related that 'Abd Allah, the son of Aboo Kilabeh, went forth to\nseek a camel that had run away, and while he was proceeding over the\ndeserts of El-Yemen and the district of Seba, he chanced to arrive at\na vast city encompassed by enormous fortifications, around the circuit\nof which were pavilions rising high into the sky. So when he\napproached it, he imagined that there must be inhabitants within it,\nof whom he might inquire for his camel; and, accordingly, he advanced,\nbut on coming to it he found that it was desolate, without any one to\ncheer its solitude.\n\n\"I alighted,\" says he, \"from my she-camel, and tied up her foot; and\nthen, composing my mind, entered the city. On approaching the\nfortifications, I found that they had two enormous gates, the like of\nwhich, for size and height, have never been seen elsewhere in the\nworld, set with a variety of jewels and jacinths, white and red, and\nyellow and green; and when I beheld this, I was struck with the\nutmost wonder at it, and the sight astonished me. I entered the\nfortifications in a state of terror and with a wandering mind, and saw\nthem to be of the same large extent as the city, and to comprise\nelevated pavilions, every one of these containing lofty chambers, and\nall of them constructed of gold and silver, and adorned with rubies\nand chrysolites and pearls and various-coloured jewels. The\nfolding-doors of these pavilions were like those of the fortifications\nin beauty, and the floors were overlaid with large pearls, and with\nballs like hazel-nuts, composed of musk and ambergris and saffron. And\nwhen I came into the midst of the city, I saw not in it a created\nbeing of the sons of Adam; and I almost died of terror. I then looked\ndown from the summits of the lofty chambers and pavilions, and saw\nrivers running beneath them; and in the great thoroughfare-streets of\nthe city were fruit-bearing trees and tall palm-trees. And the\nconstruction of the city was of alternate bricks of gold and silver;\nso I said within myself, No doubt this is the paradise promised in the\nworld to come.\n\n\"I carried away of the jewels which were as its gravel, and the musk\nthat was as its dust, as much as I could bear, and returned to my\ndistrict, where I acquainted the people with the occurrence. And the\nnews reached Mo'awiyeh, the son of Aboo Sufyan (who was then Caliph),\nin the Hejaz; so he wrote to his lieutenant in San'a of El-Yemen,\nsaying, 'Summon that man, and inquire of him the truth of the matter!'\nHis lieutenant therefore caused me to be brought, and demanded of me\nan account of my adventure, and of what had befallen me; and I\ninformed him of what I had seen. He then sent me to Mo'awiyeh, and I\nacquainted him also with that which I had seen, but he disbelieved it;\nso I produced to him some of those pearls and the little balls of\nambergris and musk and saffron. The latter retained somewhat of their\nsweet scent; but the pearls had become yellow and discoloured.\n\n\"At the sight of these Mo'awiyeh wondered, and he sent and caused Kaab\nel-Ahbar to be brought before him, and said to him, 'O Kaab el-Ahbar,\nI have called thee on account of a matter of which I desire to know\nthe truth, and I hope that thou mayest be able to certify me of it.'\n'And what is it, O Prince of the Faithful?' asked Kaab el-Ahbar.\nMo'awiyeh said, 'Hast thou any knowledge of the existence of a city\nconstructed of gold and silver, the pillars whereof are of chrysolite\nand ruby, and the gravel of which is of pearls, and of balls like\nhazel-nuts, composed of musk and ambergris and saffron?' He answered,\n'Yes, O Prince of the Faithful! It is Irem Zat-el-'Emad, the like of\nwhich hath never been constructed in the regions of the earth; and\nSheddad, the son of 'A'd the Greater, built it.' 'Relate to us,' said\nMo'awiyeh, 'somewhat of its history.' And Kaab el-Ahbar replied\nthus:--\n\n\"''A'd the Greater had two sons, Shedeed and Sheddad, and when their\nfather perished they reigned conjointly over the countries after him,\nand there was no one of the kings of the earth who was not subject to\nthem. And Shedeed the son of 'A'd died, so his brother Sheddad ruled\nalone over the earth after him. He was fond of reading the ancient\nbooks; and when he met with the description of the world to come, and\nof paradise, with its pavilions and lofty chambers, and its trees and\nfruits, and of the other things in paradise, his heart enticed him to\nconstruct its like on the earth, after this manner which hath been\nabove mentioned. He had under his authority a hundred thousand kings,\nunder each of whom were a hundred thousand valiant chieftains, and\nunder each of these were a hundred thousand soldiers. And he summoned\nthem all before him, and said to them, \"I find in the ancient books\nand histories the description of the paradise that is in the other\nworld, and I desire to make its like upon the earth. Depart ye\ntherefore to the most pleasant and most spacious vacant tract in the\nearth, and build for me in it a city of gold and silver, and spread,\nas its gravel, chrysolites and rubies and pearls, and as the supports\nof the vaulted roofs of that city make columns of chrysolite, and fill\nit with pavilions, and over the pavilions construct lofty chambers,\nand beneath them plant, in the by-streets and great-thoroughfare\nstreets, varieties of trees bearing different kinds of ripe fruits,\nand make rivers to run beneath them in channels of gold and silver.\"\nTo this they all replied, \"How can we accomplish that which thou hast\ndescribed to us, and how can we procure the chrysolites and rubies and\npearls that thou hast mentioned?\" But he said, \"Know ye not that the\nkings of the world are obedient to me, and under my authority, and\nthat no one who is in it disobeyeth my command?\" They answered, \"Yes,\nwe know that.\" \"Depart then,\" said he, \"to the mines of chrysolite and\nruby, and to the places where pearls are found, and gold and silver,\nand take forth and collect their contents from the earth, and spare no\nexertions. Take also for me, from the hands of me, such of those\nthings as ye find, and spare none, nor let any escape you; and beware\nof disobedience!\"\n\n\"'He then wrote a letter to each of the kings in the regions of the\nearth, commanding them to collect all the articles of the kinds above\nmentioned that their subjects possessed, and to repair to the mines in\nwhich these things were found, and extract the precious stones that\nthey contained, even from the beds of the seas. And they collected the\nthings that he required in the space of twenty years; after which he\nsent forth the geometricians and sages, and labourers and artificers,\nfrom all the countries and regions, and they dispersed themselves\nthrough the deserts and wastes, and tracts and districts, until they\ncame to a desert wherein was a vast open plain, clear from hills and\nmountains, and in it were springs gushing forth, and rivers running.\nSo they said, \"This is the kind of place which the king commanded us\nto seek, and called us to find.\" They then busied themselves in\nbuilding the city according to the direction of the King Sheddad, king\nof the whole earth, in its length and breadth; and they made through\nit the channels for the rivers, and laid the foundations conformably\nwith the prescribed extent. The kings of the various districts of the\nearth sent thither the jewels and stones, and large and small pearls,\nand carnelian and pure gold, upon camels over the deserts and wastes,\nand sent great ships with them over the seas; and a quantity of those\nthings, such as cannot be described nor calculated nor defined, was\nbrought to the workmen, who laboured in the construction of this city\nthree hundred years. And when they had finished it, they came to the\nking and acquainted him with the completion; and he said to them,\n\"Depart, and make around it impregnable fortifications of great\nheight, and construct around the circuit of the fortifications a\nthousand pavilions, each with a thousand pillars beneath it, in order\nthat there may be in each pavilion a vizier.\" So they went\nimmediately, and did this in twenty years; after which they presented\nthemselves before Sheddad, and informed him of the accomplishment of\nhis desire.\n\n\"'He therefore ordered his viziers, who were a thousand in number, and\nhis chief officers, and such of his troops and others as he confided\nin, to make themselves ready for departure, and to prepare themselves\nfor removal to Irem Zat-el-'Emad, in attendance upon the king of the\nworld, Sheddad, the son of 'A'd. He ordered also such as he chose of\nhis women and his hareem, as his female slaves and his eunuchs, to fit\nthemselves out. And they passed twenty years in equipping themselves.\nThen Sheddad proceeded with his troops, rejoiced at the accomplishment\nof his desire, until there remained between him and Irem Zat-el-'Emad\none day's journey, when God sent down upon him and upon the obstinate\ninfidels who accompanied him a loud cry from the heaven of His power,\nand it destroyed them all by the vehemence of its sound. Neither\nSheddad nor any of those who were with him arrived at the city, or\ncame in sight of it, and God obliterated the traces of the road that\nled to it, but the city remaineth as it was in its place until the\nhour of the judgment!'\n\n\"At this narrative, related by Kaab el-Ahbar, Mo'awiyeh wondered, and\nhe said to him, 'Can any one of mankind arrive at that city?' 'Yes,'\nanswered Kaab el-Ahbar; 'a man of the companions of Mohammed (upon\nwhom be blessing and peace!), in appearance like this man who is\nsitting here, without any doubt.' Esh-Shaabee also saith, 'It is\nrelated, on the authority of the learned men of Hemyer, in El-Yemen,\nthat when Sheddad and those who were with him were destroyed by the\nloud cry, his son Sheddad the Less reigned after him; for his father,\nSheddad the Greater, had left him as successor to his kingdom, in the\nland of Hadramot and Seba, on his departure with the troops who\naccompanied him to Irem Zat-el-'Emad. And as soon as the news reached\nhim of the death of his father, on the way before his arrival at the\ncity of Irem, he gave orders to carry his father's body from those\ndesert tracts to Hadramot, and to excavate the sepulchre for him in a\ncavern. And when they had done this, he placed his body in it, upon a\ncouch of gold, and covered the corpse with seventy robes, interwoven\nwith gold and adorned with precious jewels; and he placed at his head\na tablet of gold, whereon were inscribed these verses:--\n\n    \"'Be admonished, O thou who art deceived by a prolonged life!\n    I am Sheddad, the son of 'A'd, the lord of a strong fortress,\n    The lord of power and might, and of excessive valour.\n    The inhabitants of the earth obeyed me, fearing my severity\n            and threats;\n    And I held the east and west under a strong dominion.\n    And a preacher of the true religion invited us to the right way;\n    But we opposed him, and said, Is there no refuge from it?\n    And a loud cry assaulted us from a tract of the distant horizon;\n    Whereupon we fell down like corn in the midst of a plain at harvest;\n    And now, beneath the earth, we await the threatened day.'\n\n\"Eth-Tha'alibee also saith, 'It happened that two men entered this\ncavern, and found at its upper end some steps, and having descended\nthese, they found an excavation, the length whereof was a hundred\ncubits, and its breadth forty cubits, and its height a hundred cubits.\nAnd in the midst of this excavation was a couch of gold, upon which\nwas a man of enormous bulk, occupying its whole length and breadth,\ncovered with ornaments and with robes interwoven with gold and silver;\nand at his head was a tablet of gold, whereon was an inscription. And\nthey took that tablet, and carried away from the place as much as they\ncould of bars of gold and silver and other things.'\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE TOMB OF NOOSHEERWAN.\n\n\nThe caliph Haroon-oor-Rasheed went to visit the tomb of the celebrated\nNoosheerwan, the most famous of all the monarchs who ever governed\nPersia. Before the tomb was a curtain of gold cloth, which, when\nHaroon touched it, fell to pieces. The walls of the tomb were covered\nwith gold and jewels, whose splendour illumined its darkness. The body\nwas placed in a sitting posture on a throne enchased with jewels, and\nhad so much the appearance of life that, on the first impulse, the\nCommander of the Faithful bent to the ground, and saluted the remains\nof the just Noosheerwan.\n\nThough the face of the departed monarch was like that of a living man,\nand the whole of the body in a state of preservation, which showed the\nadmirable skill of those who embalmed it, yet when the caliph touched\nthe garments they mouldered into dust. Haroon upon this took his own\nrich robes and threw them over the corpse; he also hung up a new\ncurtain richer than that he had destroyed, and perfumed the whole\ntomb with camphor, and other sweet scents.\n\nIt was remarked that no change was perceptible in the body of\nNoosheerwan, except that the ears had become white. The whole scene\naffected the caliph greatly; he burst into tears, and repeated from\nthe Koran--\"What I have seen is a warning to those who have eyes.\" He\nobserved some writing upon the throne, which he ordered the Moobids\n(priests), who were learned in the Pehlevee language, to read and\nexplain. They did so: it was as follows:--\n\n    \"This world remains not; the man who thinks least of it is\n    the wisest.\n\n    \"Enjoy this world before thou becomest its prey.\n\n    \"Bestow the same favour on those below thee as thou desirest\n    to receive from those above thee.\n\n    \"If thou shouldst conquer the whole world, death will at\n    last conquer thee.\n\n    \"Be careful that thou art not the dupe of thine own fortune.\n\n    \"Thou shalt be paid exactly for what thou hast done; no\n    more, no less.\"\n\nThe caliph observed a dark ruby-ring on the finger of Noosheerwan, on\nwhich was written--\n\n    \"Avoid cruelty, study good, and never be precipitate in\n    action.\n\n    \"If thou shouldst live for a hundred years, never for one\n    moment forget death.\n\n    \"Value above all things the society of the wise.\"\n\nAround the right arm of Noosheerwan was a clasp of gold, on which was\nengraved--\n\n    \"On a certain year, on the 10th day of the month\n    Erdebehisht, a caliph of the race of Adean, professing the\n    faith of Mahomed, accompanied by four good men, and one bad,\n    shall visit my tomb.\"\n\nBelow this sentence were the names of the forefathers of the caliph.\nAnother prophecy was added concerning Haroon's pilgrimage to\nNoosheerwan's tomb.\n\n    \"This prince will honour me, and do good unto me, though I\n    have no claim upon him; and he will clothe me in a new vest,\n    and besprinkle my tomb with sweet-scented essences, and then\n    depart unto his home. But the bad man who accompanies him\n    shall act treacherously towards me. I pray that God may send\n    one of my race to repay the great favours of the caliph, and\n    to take vengeance on his unworthy companion. There is, under\n    my throne, an inscription which the caliph must read and\n    contemplate. Its contents will remind him of me, and make\n    him pardon my inability to give him more.\"\n\nThe caliph, on hearing this, put his hand under the throne, and found\nthe inscription, which consisted of some lines, inscribed on a ruby as\nlarge as the palm of the hand. The Moobids read this also. It\ncontained information where would be found concealed a treasure of\ngold and arms, with some caskets of rich jewels; under this was\nwritten--\n\n    \"These I give to the caliph in return for the good he has\n    done me; let him take them and be happy.\"\n\nWhen Haroon-oor-Rasheed was about to leave the tomb, Hoosein-ben-Sahil,\nhis vizier, said to him: \"O Lord of the Faithful, what is the use of\nall these precious gems which ornament the abode of the dead, and are\nof no benefit to the living? Allow me to take some of them.\" The caliph\nreplied with indignation, \"Such a wish is more worthy of a thief than\nof a great or wise man.\" Hoosein was ashamed of his speech, and said to\nthe servant who had been placed at the entrance of the tomb, \"Go thou,\nand worship the holy shrine within.\" The man went into the tomb; he was\nabove a hundred years old, but he had never seen such a blaze of\nwealth. He felt inclined to plunder some of it, but was at first\nafraid; at last, summoning all his courage, he took a ring from the\nfinger of Noosheerwan, and came away.\n\nHaroon saw this man come out, and observing him alarmed, he at once\nconjectured what he had been doing. Addressing those around him, he\nsaid, \"Do not you now see the extent of the knowledge of Noosheerwan?\nHe prophesied that there should be one unworthy man with me. It is\nthis fellow. What have you taken?\" said he, in an angry tone.\n\"Nothing,\" said the man. \"Search him,\" said the caliph. It was done,\nand the ring of Noosheerwan was found. This the caliph immediately\ntook, and, entering the tomb, replaced it on the cold finger of the\ndeceased monarch. When he returned, a terrible sound like that of loud\nthunder was heard.\n\nHaroon came down from the mountain on which the tomb stood, and\nordered the road to be made inaccessible to future curiosity. He\nsearched for, and found, in the place described, the gold, the arms,\nand the jewels bequeathed to him by Noosheerwan, and sent them to\nBagdad.\n\nAmong the rich articles found was a golden crown, which had five\nsides, and was richly ornamented with precious stones. On every side a\nnumber of admirable lessons were written. The most remarkable were as\nfollows:--\n\n    _First side._\n\n    \"Give my regards to those who know themselves.\n\n    \"Consider the end before you begin, and before you advance\n    provide a retreat.\n\n    \"Give not unnecessary pain to any man, but study the\n    happiness of all.\n\n    \"Ground not your dignity upon your power to hurt others.\"\n\n    _Second side._\n\n    \"Take counsel before you commence any measure, and never\n    trust its execution to the inexperienced.\n\n    \"Sacrifice your property for your life, and your life for\n    your religion.\n\n    \"Spend your time in establishing a good name; and if you\n    desire fortune, learn contentment.\"\n\n    _Third side._\n\n    \"Grieve not for that which is broken, stolen, burnt, or\n    lost.\n\n    \"Never give orders in another man's house; and accustom\n    yourself to eat your bread at your own table.\n\n    \"Make not yourself the captive of women.\"\n\n    _Fourth side._\n\n    \"Take not a wife from a bad family, and seat not thyself\n    with those who have no shame.\n\n    \"Keep thyself at a distance from those who are incorrigible\n    in bad habits, and hold no intercourse with that man who is\n    insensible to kindness.\n\n    \"Covet not the goods of others.\n\n    \"Be guarded with monarchs, for they are like fire which\n    blazeth but destroyeth.\n\n    \"Be sensible to your own value; estimate justly the worth of\n    others; and war not with those who are far above thee in\n    fortune.\"\n\n    _Fifth side._\n\n    \"Fear kings, women, and poets.\n\n    \"Be envious of no man, and habituate not thyself to search\n    after the faults of others.\n\n    \"Make it a habit to be happy, and avoid being out of temper,\n    or thy life will pass in misery.\n\n    \"Respect and protect the females of thy family.\n\n    \"Be not the slave of anger; and in thy contests always leave\n    open the door of conciliation.\n\n    \"Never let your expenses exceed your income.\n\n    \"Plant a young tree, or you cannot expect to cut down an old\n    one.\n\n    \"Stretch your legs no further than the size of your carpet.\"\n\nThe caliph Haroon-oor-Rasheed was more pleased with the admirable\nmaxims inscribed on this crown than with all the treasures he had\nfound. \"Write these precepts,\" he exclaimed, \"in a book, that the\nfaithful may eat of the fruit of wisdom.\" When he returned to Bagdad,\nhe related to his favourite vizier, Jaffier Bermekee, and his other\nchief officers, all that had passed; and the shade of Noosheerwan was\npropitiated by the disgrace of Hoosein-ben-Sahil (who had recommended\ndespoiling his tomb), and the exemplary punishment of the servant who\nhad committed the sacrilegious act of taking the ring from the finger\nof the departed monarch.\n\n\n\n\nAMEEN AND THE GHOOL.\n\n\nThere is a dreadful place in Persia called the \"Valley of the Angel of\nDeath.\" That terrific minister of God's wrath, according to tradition,\nhas resting-places upon the earth and his favourite abodes. He is\nsurrounded by ghools, horrid beings who, when he takes away life,\nfeast upon the carcasses.\n\nThe natural shape of these monsters is terrible; but they can assume\nthose of animals, such as cows or camels, or whatever they choose,\noften appearing to men as their relations or friends, and then they do\nnot only transform their shapes, but their voices also are altered.\nThe frightful screams and yells which are often heard amid these\ndreaded ravines are changed for the softest and most melodious notes.\nUnwary travellers, deluded by the appearance of friends, or captivated\nby the forms and charmed by the music of these demons, are allured\nfrom their path, and after feasting for a few hours on every luxury,\nare consigned to destruction.\n\nThe number of these ghools has greatly decreased since the birth of\nthe Prophet, and they have no power to hurt those who pronounce his\nname in sincerity of faith. These creatures are the very lowest of the\nsupernatural world, and, besides being timid, are extremely stupid,\nand consequently often imposed upon by artful men.\n\nThe natives of Isfahan, though not brave, are the most crafty and\nacute people upon earth, and often supply the want of courage by their\naddress. An inhabitant of that city was once compelled to travel alone\nat night through this dreadful valley. He was a man of ready wit, and\nfond of adventures, and, though no lion, had great confidence in his\ncunning, which had brought him through a hundred scrapes and perils\nthat would have embarrassed or destroyed your simple man of valour.\n\nThis man, whose name was Ameen Beg, had heard many stories of the\nghools of the \"Valley of the Angel of Death,\" and thought it likely he\nmight meet one. He prepared accordingly, by putting an egg and a lump\nof salt in his pocket. He had not gone far amidst the rocks, when he\nheard a voice crying, \"Holloa, Ameen Beg Isfahanee! you are going the\nwrong road, you will lose yourself; come this way. I am your friend\nKerreem Beg; I know your father, old Kerbela Beg, and the street in\nwhich you were born.\" Ameen knew well the power the ghools had of\nassuming the shape of any person they choose; and he also knew their\nskill as genealogists, and their knowledge of towns as well as\nfamilies; he had therefore little doubt this was one of those\ncreatures alluring him to destruction. He, however, determined to\nencounter him, and trust to his art for his escape.\n\n\"Stop, my friend, till I come near you,\" was his reply. When Ameen\ncame close to the ghool, he said, \"You are not my friend Kerreem; you\nare a lying demon, but you are just the being I desired to meet. I\nhave tried my strength against all the men and all the beasts which\nexist in the natural world, and I can find nothing that is a match for\nme. I came therefore to this valley in the hope of encountering a\nghool, that I might prove my prowess upon him.\"\n\nThe ghool, astonished at being addressed in this manner, looked keenly\nat him, and said, \"Son of Adam, you do not appear so strong.\"\n\"Appearances are deceitful,\" replied Ameen, \"but I will give you a\nproof of my strength. There,\" said he, picking up a stone from a\nrivulet, \"this contains a fluid; try if you can so squeeze it that it\nwill flow out.\" The ghool took the stone, but, after a short attempt,\nreturned it, saying, \"The thing is impossible.\" \"Quite easy,\" said the\nIsfahanee, taking the stone and placing it in the hand in which he had\nbefore put the egg. \"Look there!\" And the astonished ghool, while he\nheard what he took for the breaking of the stone, saw the liquid run\nfrom between Ameen's fingers, and this apparently without any effort.\n\nAmeen, aided by the darkness, placed the stone upon the ground while\nhe picked up another of a darker hue. \"This,\" said he, \"I can see\ncontains salt, as you will find if you can crumble it between your\nfingers;\" but the ghool, looking at it, confessed he had neither\nknowledge to discover its qualities nor strength to break it. \"Give it\nme,\" said his companion impatiently; and, having put it into the same\nhand with the piece of salt, he instantly gave the latter all crushed\nto the ghool, who, seeing it reduced to powder, tasted it, and\nremained in stupid astonishment at the skill and strength of this\nwonderful man. Neither was he without alarm lest his strength should\nbe exerted against himself, and he saw no safety in resorting to the\nshape of a beast, for Ameen had warned him that if he commenced any\nsuch unfair dealing, he would instantly slay him; for ghools, though\nlong-lived, are not immortal.\n\nUnder such circumstances he thought his best plan was to conciliate\nthe friendship of his new companion till he found an opportunity of\ndestroying him.\n\n\"Most wonderful man,\" he said, \"will you honour my abode with your\npresence? it is quite at hand; there you will find every refreshment;\nand after a comfortable night's rest you can resume your journey.\"\n\n\"I have no objection, friend ghool, to accept your offer; but, mark\nme, I am, in the first place, very passionate, and must not be\nprovoked by any expressions which are in the least disrespectful; and,\nin the second, I am full of penetration, and can see through your\ndesigns as clearly as I saw into that hard stone in which I discovered\nsalt. So take care you entertain none that are wicked, or you shall\nsuffer.\"\n\nThe ghool declared that the ear of his guest should be pained by no\nexpression to which it did not befit his dignity to listen; and he\nswore by the head of his liege lord, the Angel of Death, that he would\nfaithfully respect the rights of hospitality and friendship.\n\nThus satisfied, Ameen followed the ghool through a number of crooked\npaths, rugged cliffs, and deep ravines, till they came to a large\ncave, which was dimly lighted. \"Here,\" said the ghool, \"I dwell, and\nhere my friend will find all he can want for refreshment and repose.\"\nSo saying, he led him to various apartments, in which were hoarded\nevery species of grain, and all kinds of merchandise, plundered from\ntravellers who had been deluded to this den, and of whose fate Ameen\nwas too well informed by the bones over which he now and then\nstumbled, and by the putrid smell produced by some half-consumed\ncarcasses.\n\n\"This will be sufficient for your supper, I hope,\" said the ghool,\ntaking up a large bag of rice; \"a man of your prowess must have a\ntolerable appetite.\" \"True,\" said Ameen, \"but I ate a sheep and as\nmuch rice as you have there before I proceeded on my journey. I am,\nconsequently, not hungry, but will take a little lest I offend your\nhospitality.\" \"I must boil it for you,\" said the demon; \"you do not\neat grain and meat raw, as we do. Here is a kettle,\" said he, taking\nup one lying amongst the plundered property. \"I will go and get wood\nfor a fire, while you fetch water with that,\" pointing to a bag made\nof the hides of six oxen.\n\nAmeen waited till he saw his host leave the cave for the wood, and\nthen with great difficulty he dragged the enormous bag to the bank of\na dark stream, which issued from the rocks at the other end of the\ncavern, and, after being visible for a few yards, disappeared\nunderground.\n\n\"How shall I,\" thought Ameen, \"prevent my weakness being discovered?\nThis bag I could hardly manage when empty; when full, it would require\ntwenty strong men to carry it; what shall I do? I shall certainly be\neaten up by this cannibal ghool, who is now only kept in order by the\nimpression of my great strength.\" After some minutes' reflection the\nIsfahanee thought of a scheme, and began digging a small channel from\nthe stream towards the place where his supper was preparing.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" vociferated the ghool, as he advanced towards\nhim; \"I sent you for water to boil a little rice, and you have been an\nhour about it. Cannot you fill the bag and bring it away?\" \"Certainly\nI can,\" said Ameen; \"if I were content, after all your kindness, to\nshow my gratitude merely by feats of brute strength, I could lift your\nstream if you had a bag large enough to hold it. But here,\" said he,\npointing to the channel he had begun,--\"here is the commencement of a\nwork in which the mind of a man is employed to lessen the labour of\nhis body. This canal, small as it may appear, will carry a stream to\nthe other end of the cave, in which I will construct a dam that you\ncan open and shut at pleasure, and thereby save yourself infinite\ntrouble in fetching water. But pray let me alone till it is finished,\"\nand he began to dig. \"Nonsense!\" said the ghool, seizing the bag and\nfilling it; \"I will carry the water myself, and I advise you to leave\noff your canal, as you call it, and follow me, that you may eat your\nsupper and go to sleep; you may finish this fine work, if you like it,\nto-morrow morning.\"\n\nAmeen congratulated himself on this escape, and was not slow in taking\nthe advice of his host. After having ate heartily of the supper that\nwas prepared, he went to repose on a bed made of the richest coverlets\nand pillows, which were taken from one of the store-rooms of plundered\ngoods. The ghool, whose bed was also in the cave, had no sooner laid\ndown than he fell into a sound sleep. The anxiety of Ameen's mind\nprevented him from following his example; he rose gently, and having\nstuffed a long pillow into the middle of his bed, to make it appear as\nif he was still there, he retired to a concealed place in the cavern\nto watch the proceedings of the ghool. The latter awoke a short time\nbefore daylight, and rising, went, without making any noise, towards\nAmeen's bed, where, not observing the least stir, he was satisfied\nthat his guest was in a deep sleep; so he took up one of his\nwalking-sticks, which was in size like the trunk of a tree, and struck\na terrible blow at what he supposed to be Ameen's head. He smiled not\nto hear a groan, thinking he had deprived him of life; but to make\nsure of his work, he repeated the blow seven times. He then returned\nto rest, but had hardly settled himself to sleep, when Ameen, who had\ncrept into the bed, raised his head above the clothes and exclaimed,\n\"Friend ghool, what insect could it be that has disturbed me by its\ntapping? I counted the flap of its little wings seven times on the\ncoverlet. These vermin are very annoying, for, though they cannot hurt\na man, they disturb his rest!\"\n\nThe ghool's dismay on hearing Ameen speak at all was great, but that\nwas increased to perfect fright when he heard him describe seven\nblows, any one of which would have felled an elephant, as seven flaps\nof an insect's wing. There was no safety, he thought, near so\nwonderful a man, and he soon afterwards arose and fled from the cave,\nleaving the Isfahanee its sole master.\n\nWhen Ameen found his host gone, he was at no loss to conjecture the\ncause, and immediately began to survey the treasures with which he was\nsurrounded, and to contrive means for removing them to his home.\n\nAfter examining the contents of the cave, and arming himself with a\nmatchlock, which had belonged to some victim of the ghool, he\nproceeded to survey the road. He had, however, only gone a short\ndistance when he saw the ghool returning with a large club in his\nhand, and accompanied by a fox. Ameen's knowledge of the cunning\nanimal instantly led him to suspect that it had undeceived his enemy,\nbut his presence of mind did not forsake him. \"Take that,\" said he to\nthe fox, aiming a ball at him from his matchlock, and shooting him\nthrough the head,--\"Take that for your not performing my orders. That\nbrute,\" said he, \"promised to bring me seven ghools, that I might\nchain them, and carry them to Isfahan, and here he has only brought\nyou, who are already my slave.\" So saying, he advanced towards the\nghool; but the latter had already taken to flight, and by the aid of\nhis club bounded so rapidly over rocks and precipices that he was soon\nout of sight.\n\nAmeen having well marked the path from the cavern to the road, went\nto the nearest town and hired camels and mules to remove the property\nhe had acquired. After making restitution to all who remained alive to\nprove their goods, he became, from what was unclaimed, a man of\nwealth, all of which was owing to that wit and art which ever overcome\nbrute strength and courage.\n\n\n\n\nTHE RELATIONS OF SSIDI KUR.\n\n\nGlorified Nangasuna Garbi! thou art radiant within and without; the\nholy vessel of sublimity, the fathomer of concealed thoughts, the\nsecond of instructors, I bow before thee. What wonderful adventures\nfell to the lot of Nangasuna, and to the peaceful wandering Chan, and\nhow instructive and learned the Ssidi will be found, all this is\ndeveloped in thirteen pleasing narratives.\n\nAnd I will first relate the origin of these tales:--\n\nIn the central kingdom of India there once lived seven brothers, who\nwere magicians; and one berren (a measure of distance) further dwelt\ntwo brothers, who were sons of a Chan. Now the eldest of these sons of\nthe Chan betook himself to the magicians, that he might learn their\nart; but although he studied under them for seven years, yet the\nmagicians taught him not the true key to magic.\n\nAnd once upon a time it happened that the youngest brother, going to\nbring food to the elder, peeped through the opening of the door, and\nobtained the key to magic. Thereupon, without delivering to the elder\nthe food which he had brought for him, he returned home to the palace.\nThen said the younger son of the Chan to his brother, \"That we have\nlearned magic, let us keep to ourselves. We have in the stable a\nbeautiful horse; take this horse, and ride not with him near the\ndwelling-place of the magicians, but sell the horse in their country,\nand bring back merchandise.\"\n\nAnd when he had said thus, he changed himself into a horse. But the\nelder son of the Chan heeded not the words of his brother, but said\nunto himself: \"Full seven years have I studied magic, and as yet have\nlearned nothing. Where, then, has my young brother found so beautiful\na horse? and how can I refuse to ride thereon?\"\n\nWith these words he mounted, but the horse being impelled by the power\nof magic was not to be restrained, galloped away to the dwelling-place\nof the magicians, and could not be got from the door. \"Well, then, I\nwill sell the horse to the magicians.\" Thus thinking to himself, the\nelder called out to the magicians, \"Saw ye ever a horse like unto\nthis? My younger brother it was who found him.\" At these words the\nmagicians communed with one another. \"This is a magic horse; if magic\ngrow at all common, there will be no wonderful art remaining. Let us,\ntherefore, take this horse and slay him.\"\n\nThe magicians paid the price demanded for the horse, and tied him in\na stall; and that he might not escape out of their hands, they\nfastened him, ready for slaughter, by the head, by the tail, and by\nthe feet. \"Ah!\" thought the horse to himself, \"my elder brother\nhearkened not unto me, and therefore am I fallen into such hands. What\nform shall I assume?\" While the horse was thus considering, he saw a\nfish swim by him in the water, and immediately he changed himself into\na fish.\n\nBut the seven magicians became seven herons, and pursued the fish, and\nwere on the point of catching it, when it looked up and beheld a dove\nin the sky, and thereupon transformed itself into a dove. The seven\nmagicians now became seven hawks, and followed the dove over mountains\nand rivers, and would certainly have seized upon it, but the dove,\nflying eastwards to the peaceful cave in the rock Gulumtschi,\nconcealed itself in the bosom of Nangasuna Baktschi (the Instructor).\nThen the seven hawks became seven beggars, and drew nigh unto the rock\nGulumtschi. \"What may this import?\" bethought the Baktschi to himself,\n\"that this dove has fled hither pursued by seven hawks?\" Thus\nthinking, the Baktschi said, \"Wherefore, O dove, fliest thou hither in\nsuch alarm?\" Then the dove related to him the cause of its flight, and\nspake afterwards as follows:--\"At the entrance to the rock Gulumtschi\nstand seven beggars, and they will come to the Baktschi and say, 'We\npray thee give us the rosary of the Baktschi?' Then will I transform\nmyself into the Bumba of the rosary; let the Baktschi then vouchsafe\nto take this Bumba into his mouth and to cast the rosary from him.\"\n\nHereupon the seven beggars drew nigh, and the Baktschi took the first\nbead into his mouth and the rest he cast from him. The beads which\nwere cast away then became worms, and the seven beggars became fowls\nand ate up the worms. Then the Baktschi let the first bead fall from\nhis mouth, and thereupon the first bead was transformed into a man\nwith a sword in his hand. When the seven fowls were slain and become\nhuman corses, the Baktschi was troubled in his soul, and said these\nwords, \"Through my having preserved one single man have seven been\nslain. Of a verity this is not good.\"\n\nTo these words the other replied, \"I am the Son of a Chan. Since,\ntherefore, through the preservation of my life, several others have\nlost their lives, I will, to cleanse me from my sins, and also to\nreward the Baktschi, execute whatsoever he shall command me.\" The\nBaktschi replied thereto, \"Now, then, in the cold Forest of Death\nthere abides Ssidi Kur; the upper part of his body is decked with\ngold, the lower is of brass, his head is covered with silver. Seize\nhim and hold him fast. Whosoever finds this wonderful Ssidi Kur, him\nwill I make for a thousand years a man upon the earth.\"\n\nThus spake he, and the youth thereupon began these words: \"The way\nwhich I must take, the food which I require, the means which I must\nemploy, all these vouchsafe to make known unto me.\" To this the\nBaktschi replied, \"It shall be as thou demandest. At the distance of a\nberren (a measure of distance) from this place you will come to a\ngloomy forest, through which you will find there runs only one narrow\npath. The place is full of spirits. When thou reachest the spirits,\nthey will throng around you; then cry ye with a loud voice, 'Spirits,\nchu lu chu lu ssochi!' And when thou hast spoken these words, they\nwill all be scattered like grain. When thou hast proceeded a little\nfurther, you will encounter a crowd of other spirits; then cry ye,\n'Spirits, chu lu chu lu ssosi!' And a little further on you will\nbehold a crowd of child-spirits: say unto these, 'Child-spirits, Ri ra\npa dra!' In the middle of this wood sits Ssidi Kur, beside an\namiri-tree. When he beholds you, he will climb up it, but you must\ntake the moon-axe, with furious gestures draw nigh unto the tree, and\nbid Ssidi Kur descend. To bring him away you will require this sack,\nwhich would hold a hundred men. To bind him fast this hundred fathoms\nof checkered rope will serve you. This inexhaustible cake will furnish\nthee with provender for thy journey. When thou hast got thy load upon\nthy back, wander then on without speaking, until thou art returned\nhome again. Thy name is Son of the Chan; and since thou hast reached\nthe peaceful rock Gulumtschi, thou shalt be called the peaceful\nwandering Son of the Chan.\"\n\nThus spake the Baktschi, and showed him the way of expiation. When\nSsidi Kur beheld his pursuer, he speedily climbed up the amiri-tree,\nbut the Son of the Chan drew nigh unto the foot of the tree, and spake\nwith threatening words: \"My Baktschi is Nangasuna Garbi; mine axe is\ncalled the white moon; an inexhaustible cake is my provender. This\nsack, capable of holding a hundred men, will serve to carry thee away,\nthis hundred fathoms of rope will serve to bind thee fast; I myself am\nthe peaceful wandering Son of the Chan. Descend, or I will hew down\nthe tree.\"\n\nThen spake Ssidi Kur, \"Do not hew down the tree; I will descend from\nit.\"\n\nAnd when he had descended, the Son of the Chan thrust him into the\nsack, tied the sack fast with the rope, ate of the butter-cake, and\nwandered forth many days with his burden. At length Ssidi Kur said to\nthe Son of the Chan, \"Since our long journey is wearisome unto us, I\nwill tell a story unto you, or do you relate one unto me.\"\n\nThe Son of the Chan kept on his way, however, without speaking a word,\nand Ssidi began afresh, \"If thou wilt tell a story, nod your head to\nme; if I shall relate one, then do you shake your head.\"\n\nBut because the Son of the Chan shook his head from side to side,\nwithout uttering a word, Ssidi began the following tale:--\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF THE RICH YOUTH.\n\n\"In former times there lived, in a great kingdom, a rich youth, a\ncalculator, a mechanic, a painter, a physician, and a smith, and they\nall departed from their parents and went forth into a foreign land.\nWhen they at length arrived at the mouth of a great river, they\nplanted, every one of them, a tree of life; and each of them,\nfollowing one of the sources of the river, set forth to seek their\nfortunes. 'Here,' said they to one another,--'here will we meet again.\nShould, however, any one of us be missing, and his tree of life be\nwithered, we will search for him in the place whither he went to.'\n\n\"Thus they agreed, and separated one from another. And the rich youth\nfound at the source of the stream, which he had followed, a\npleasure-garden with a house, in the entrance to which were seated an\nold man and an old woman. 'Good youth,' exclaimed they both, 'whence\ncomest thou--whither goest thou?' The youth replied, 'I come from a\ndistant country, and am going to seek my fortune.' And the old couple\nsaid unto him, 'It is well thou hast come hither. We have a daughter,\nslender of shape and pleasant of behaviour. Take her, and be a son\nunto us!'\n\n\"And when they had so spoken, the daughter made her appearance. And\nwhen the youth beheld her, he thought unto himself, 'It is well I left\nmy father and my mother. This maiden is more beauteous than a daughter\nof the Tangari (god-like spirits of the male and female sex). I will\ntake the maiden and dwell here.' And the maiden said, 'Youth, it is\nwell that thou earnest here.' Thereupon they conversed together, went\ntogether into the house, and lived peacefully and happily.\n\n\"Now, over the same country there reigned a mighty Chan. And once in\nthe spring-time, when his servants went forth together to bathe, they\nfound, near the mouth of the river, in the water, a pair of costly\nearrings, which belonged to the wife of the rich youth. Because,\ntherefore, these jewels were so wondrously beautiful, they carried\nthem to the Chan, who, being greatly surprised thereat, said unto his\nservants, 'Dwells there at the source of the river a woman such as\nthese belong to? Go, and bring her unto me.'\n\n\"The servants went accordingly, beheld the woman, and were amazed at\nthe sight. 'This woman,' said they to one another, 'one would never\ntire of beholding.' But to the woman they said, 'Arise! and draw nigh\nwith us unto the Chan.'\n\n\"Hereupon the rich youth conducted his wife to the presence of the\nChan; but the Chan, when he beheld her, exclaimed, 'This maiden is a\nTangari, compared with her, my wives are but ugly.'\n\n\"Thus spake he, and he was so smitten with love of her, that he would\nnot let her depart from his house. But as she remained true and\nfaithful to the rich youth, the Chan said unto his servants, 'Remove\nthis rich youth instantly out of my sight.'\n\n\"At these commands the servants went forth, taking with them the rich\nyouth, whom they led to the water, where they laid him in a pit by the\nside of the stream, covered him with a huge fragment of the rock, and\nthus slew him.\n\n\"At length it happened that the other wanderers returned from all\nsides, each to his tree of life; and when the rich youth was missed,\nand they saw that his tree of life was withered, they sought him up\nthe source of the river which he had followed, but found him not.\nHereupon the reckoner discovered, by his calculations, that the rich\nyouth was lying dead under a piece of the rock; but as they could by\nno means remove the stone, the smith took his hammer, smote the stone,\nand drew out the body. Then the physician mixed a life-inspiring\ndraught, gave the same to the dead youth, and so restored him to life.\n\n\"They now demanded of him whom they had recalled to life, 'In what\nmanner wert thou slain?' He accordingly related unto them the\ncircumstances; and they communed one with another, saying, 'Let us\nsnatch this extraordinary beautiful woman from the Chan!' Thereupon\nthe mechanic constructed a wooden gerudin, or wonderful bird, which,\nwhen moved upwards from within, ascended into the air; when moved\ndownwards, descended into the earth; when moved sideways, flew\nsideways accordingly. When this was done, they painted it with\ndifferent colours, so that it was pleasant to behold.\n\n\"Then the rich youth seated himself within the wooden bird, flew\nthrough the air, and hovered over the roof of the royal mansion; and\nthe Chan and his servants were astonished at the form of the bird, and\nsaid, 'A bird like unto this we never before saw or heard of.' And to\nhis wife the Chan said, 'Go ye to the roof of the palace, and offer\nfood of different kinds unto this strange bird.' When she went up to\noffer food, the bird descended, and the rich youth opened the door\nwhich was in the bird. Then said the wife of the Chan, full of joy, 'I\nhad never hoped or thought to have seen thee again, yet now have I\nfound thee once more. This has been accomplished by this wonderful\nbird.' After the youth had related to her all that had happened, he\nsaid unto her, 'Thou art now the wife of the Chan--but if your heart\nnow yearns unto me, step thou into this wooden gerudin, and we will\nfly hence through the air, and for the future know care no more.'\n\n\"After these words the wife said, 'To the first husband to whom\ndestiny united me am I inclined more than ever.' Having thus spoken\nthey entered into the wooden gerudin, and ascended into the sky. The\nChan beheld this, and said, 'Because I sent thee up that thou mightest\nfeed this beautiful bird, thou hast betaken thyself to the skies.'\nThus spake he full of anger, and threw himself weeping on the ground.\n\n\"The rich youth now turned the peg in the bird downwards, and\ndescended upon the earth close to his companions. And when he stepped\nforth out of the bird, his companions asked him, 'Hast thou thoroughly\naccomplished all that thou didst desire?' Thereupon his wife also\nstepped forth, and all who beheld her became in love with her. 'You,\nmy companions,' said the rich youth, 'have brought help unto me; you\nhave awakened me from death; you have afforded me the means of once\nmore finding my wife. Do not, I beseech you, rob me of my charmer once\nagain.'\n\n\"Thus spake he; and the calculator began with these words:--'Had I not\ndiscovered by my calculation where thou wert lying, thou wouldst never\nhave recovered thy wife.'\n\n\"'In vain,' said the smith, 'would the calculations have been, had I\nnot drawn thee out of the rock. By means of the shattered rock it was\nthat you obtained your wife. Then your wife belongs to me.'\n\n\"'A body,' said the physician, 'was drawn from out of the shattered\nrock. That this body was restored to life, and recovered his former\nwife, it was my skill accomplished it. I, therefore, should take the\nwife.'\n\n\"'But for the wooden bird,' said the mechanic, 'no one would ever have\nreached the wife. A numerous host attend upon the Chan; no one can\napproach the house wherein he resides. Through my wooden bird alone\nwas the wife recovered. Let me, then, take her.'\n\n\"'The wife,' said the painter, 'never would have carried food to a\nwooden bird; therefore it was only through my skill in painting that\nshe was recovered; I, therefore, claim her.'\n\n\"And when they had thus spoken, they drew their knives and slew one\nanother.\"\n\n\"Alas! poor woman!\" exclaimed the son of the Chan; and Ssidi said,\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words:--Ssarwala missbrod\njakzang!\" Thus spake he, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's first tale treated of the adventures of the rich youth.\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF THE BEGGAR'S SON.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan arrived as before at the cold Forest of\nDeath, he exclaimed with threatening gestures at the foot of the\namiri-tree, \"Thou dead one, descend, or I will hew down the tree.\"\nSsidi descended. The son of Chan placed him in the sack, bound the\nsack fast with the rope, ate of his provender, and journeyed forth\nwith his burden. Then spake the dead one these words, \"Since we have a\nlong journey before us, do you relate a pleasant story by the way, or\nI will do so.\" But the Son of the Chan merely shook his head without\nspeaking a word. Whereupon Ssidi commenced the following tale:--\n\n\"A long time ago there was a mighty Chan who was ruler over a country\nfull of market-places. At the source of the river which ran through it\nthere was an immense marsh, and in this marsh there dwelt two\ncrocodile-frogs, who would not allow the water to run out of the\nmarsh. And because there came no water over their fields, every year\ndid both the good and the bad have cause to mourn, until such times as\na man had been given to the frogs for the pests to devour. And at\nlength the lot fell upon the Chan himself to be an offering to them,\nand needful as he was to the welfare of the kingdom, denial availed\nhim not; therefore father and son communed sorrowfully together,\nsaying, 'Which of us two shall go?'\n\n\"'I am an old man,' said the father, 'and shall leave no one to lament\nme. I will go, therefore. Do you remain here, my son, and reign\naccording as it is appointed.'\n\n\"'O Tangari,' exclaimed the son, 'verily this is not as it should be!\nThou hast brought me up with care, O my father! If the Chan and the\nwife of the Chan remain, what need is there of their son? I then will\ngo, and be as a feast for the frogs.'\n\n\"Thus spake he, and the people walked sorrowfully round about him, and\nthen betook themselves back again. Now the son of the Chan had for his\ncompanion the son of a poor man, and he went to him and said, 'Walk ye\naccording to the will of your parents, and remain at home in peace and\nsafety. I am going, for the good of the kingdom, to serve as a\nsacrifice to the frogs.' At these words the son of the poor man said,\nweeping and lamenting, 'From my youth up, O Chan, thou hast carefully\nfostered me. I will go with thee, and share thy fate.'\n\n\"Then they both arose and went unto the frogs; and on the verge of the\nmarsh they heard the yellow frog and the blue frog conversing with one\nanother. And the frogs said, 'If the son of the Chan and his companion\ndid but know that if they only smote off our heads with the sword, and\nthe son of the Chan consumed me, the yellow frog, and the son of the\npoor man consumed thee, the blue frog, they would both cast out from\ntheir mouths gold and brass, then would the country be no longer\ncompelled to find food for frogs.'\n\n\"Now, because the son of the Chan understood all sorts of languages,\nhe comprehended the discourse of the frogs, and he and his companion\nsmote the heads of the frogs with their swords; and when they had\ndevoured the frogs, they threw out from their mouths gold and brass\nat their heart's pleasure. Then said the wanderers, 'The frogs are\nboth slain--the course of the waters will be hemmed in no more. Let us\nthen turn back unto our own country.' But the son of the Chan agreed\nnot to this, and said, 'Let us not turn back into our own country,\nlest they say they are become spirits; therefore it is better that we\njourney further.'\n\n\"As they thereupon were walking over a mountain, they came to a\ntavern, in which dwelt two women, beautiful to behold--mother and\ndaughter. Then said they, 'We would buy strong liquor that we might\ndrink.' The women replied, 'What have ye to give in exchange for\nstrong liquor?' Thereupon each of them threw forth gold and brass, and\nthe women found pleasure therein, admitted them into their dwelling,\ngave them liquor in abundance, until they became stupid and slept,\ntook from them what they had, and then turned them out of doors.\n\n\"Now when they awoke the son of the Chan and his companion travelled\nalong a river and arrived in a wood, where they found some children\nquarrelling one with another. 'Wherefore,' inquired they, 'do you thus\ndispute?'\n\n\"'We have,' said the children, 'found a cap in this wood, and every\none desires to possess it.'\n\n\"'Of what use is the cap?'\n\n\"'The cap has this wonderful property, that whosoever places it on his\nhead can be seen neither by the Tangari, nor by men, nor by the\nTschadkurrs' (evil spirits).\n\n\"'Now go all of ye to the end of the forest and run hither, and I will\nin the meanwhile keep the cap, and give it to the first of you who\nreaches me.'\n\n\"Thus spoke the son of the Chan; and the children ran, but they found\nnot the cap, for it was upon the head of the Chan. 'Even now it was\nhere,' said they, 'and now it is gone.' And after they had sought for\nit, but without finding it, they went away weeping.\n\n\"And the son of the Chan and his companion travelled onwards, and at\nlast they came to a forest in which they found a body of Tschadkurrs\nquarrelling one with another, and they said, 'Wherefore do ye thus\nquarrel one with another?'\n\n\"'I,' exclaimed each of them, 'have made myself master of these\nboots.'\n\n\"'Of what use are these boots?' inquired the son of the Chan.\n\n\"'He who wears these boots,' replied the Tschadkurrs, 'is conveyed to\nany country wherein he wishes himself.'\n\n\"'Now,' answered the son of the Chan, 'go all of you that way, and he\nwho first runs hither shall obtain the boots.'\n\n\"And the Tschadkurrs, when they heard these words, ran as they were\ntold; but the son of the Chan had concealed the boots in the bosom of\nhis companion, who had the cap upon his head. And the Tschadkurrs saw\nthe boots no more; they sought them in vain, and went their way.\n\n\"And when they were gone, the prince and his companion drew on each of\nthem one of the boots, and they wished themselves near the place of\nelection in a Chan's kingdom. They wished their journey, laid\nthemselves down to sleep, and on their awaking in the morning they\nfound themselves in the hollow of a tree, right in the centre of the\nimperial place of election. It was, moreover, a day for the assembling\nof the people, to throw a Baling (a sacred figure of dough or paste)\nunder the guidance of the Tangari. 'Upon whose head even the Baling\nfalls, he shall be our Chan.' Thus spake they as they threw it up; but\nthe tree caught the Baling of Destiny. 'What means this?' exclaimed\nthey all with one accord. 'Shall we have a tree for our Chan?'\n\n\"'Let us examine,' cried they one to another, 'whether the tree\nconcealeth any stranger.' And when they approached the tree the son of\nthe Chan and his companion stepped forth. But the people stood yet in\ndoubt, and said one to another thus, 'Whosoever ruleth over the people\nof this land, this shall be decided to-morrow morning by what\nproceedeth from their mouths.' And when they had thus spoken, they all\ntook their departure.\n\n\"On the following morning some drank water, and what they threw from\ntheir mouths was white; others ate grass, and what they threw from\ntheir mouths was green. In short, one threw one thing, and another\nanother thing. But because the son of the Chan and his companion cast\nout from their mouths gold and brass, the people cried, 'Let the one\nbe Chan of this people--let the other be his minister.' Thus were they\nnominated Chan and minister! And the daughter of the former Chan was\nappointed the wife of the new Chan.\n\n\"Now in the neighbourhood of the palace wherein the Chan dwelt was a\nlofty building, whither the wife of the Chan betook herself every day.\n'Wherefore,' thought the minister, 'does the wife of the Chan betake\nherself to this spot every day?' Thus thinking, he placed the\nwonderful cap upon his head, and followed the Chan's wife through the\nopen doors, up one step after another, up to the roof. Here the wife\nof the Chan gathered together silken coverlets and pillows, made ready\nvarious drinks and delicate meats, and burnt for their perfume tapers\nand frankincense. The minister being concealed by his cap, which made\nhim invisible, seated himself by the side of the Chan's wife, and\nlooked around on every side.\n\n\"Shortly afterwards a beautiful bird swept through the sky. The wife\nof the Chan received it with fragrance-giving tapers. The bird seated\nitself upon the roof and twittered with a pleasing voice; but out of\nthe bird came Solangdu, the Son of the Tangari, whose beauty was\nincomparable, and he laid himself on the silken coverlets and fed of\nthe dainties prepared for him. Then spake the son of the Tangari,\n'Thou hast passed this morning with the husband whom thy fate has\nallotted to thee. What thinkest thou of him?' The wife of the Chan\nanswered, 'I know too little of the prince to speak of his good\nqualities or his defects.' Thus passed the day, and the wife of the\nChan returned home again.\n\n\"On the following day the minister followed the wife of the Chan as he\nhad done before, and heard the son of the Tangari say unto her,\n'To-morrow I will come like a bird of Paradise to see thine husband.'\nAnd the wife of the Chan said, 'Be it so.'\n\n\"The day passed over, and the minister said to the Chan, 'In yonder\npalace lives Solangdu, the beauteous son of the Tangari.' The minister\nthen related all that he had witnessed, and said, 'To-morrow early the\nson of the Tangari will seek thee, disguised like a bird of Paradise.\nI will seize the bird by the tail, and cast him into the fire; but you\nmust smite him in pieces with the sword.'\n\n\"On the following morning, the Chan and the wife of the Chan were\nseated together, when the son of the Tangari, transformed into a bird\nof Paradise, appeared before them on the steps that led to the\npalace. The wife of the Chan greeted the bird with looks expressive of\npleasure, but the minister, who had on his invisible-making cap,\nseized the bird suddenly by the tail, and cast him into the fire. And\nthe Chan smote at him violently with his sword; but the wife of the\nChan seized the hand of her husband, so that only the wings of the\nbird were scorched. 'Alas, poor bird!' exclaimed the wife of the Chan,\nas, half dead, it made its way, as well as it could, through the air.\n\n\"On the next morning the wife of the Chan went as usual to the lofty\nbuilding, and this time, too, did the minister follow her. She\ncollected together, as usual, the silken pillows, but waited longer\nthan she was wont, and sat watching with staring eyes. At length the\nbird approached with a very slow flight, and came down from the\nbirdhouse covered with blood and wounds, and the wife of the Chan wept\nat the sight. 'Weep not,' said the son of the Tangari; 'thine husband\nhas a heavy hand. The fire has so scorched me that I can never come\nmore.'\n\n\"Thus spoke he, and the wife of the Chan replied, 'Do not say so, but\ncome as you are wont to do, at least come on the day of the full\nmoon.' Then the son of the Tangari flew up to the sky again, and the\nwife of the Chan began from that time to love her husband with her\nwhole heart.\n\n\"Then the minister placed his wonderful cap upon his head, and,\ndrawing near to a pagoda, he saw, through the crevice of the door, a\nman, who spread out a figure of an ass, rolled himself over and over\nupon the figure, thereupon took upon himself the form of an ass, and\nran up and down braying like one. Then he began rolling afresh, and\nappeared in his human form. At last he folded up the paper, and placed\nit in the hand of a burchan (a Calmuc idol). And when the man came out\nthe minister went in, procured the paper, and remembering the\nill-treatment which he had formerly received, he went to the mother\nand daughter who had sold him the strong liquor, and said, with crafty\nwords, 'I am come to you to reward you for your good deeds.' With\nthese words he gave the women three pieces of gold; and the women\nasked him, saying, 'Thou art, indeed, an honest man, but where did you\nprocure so much gold?' Then the minister answered, 'By merely rolling\nbackwards and forwards over this paper did I procure this gold.' On\nhearing these words, the women said, 'Grant us that we too may roll\nupon it.' And they did so, and were changed into asses. And the\nminister brought the asses to the Chan, and the Chan said, 'Let them\nbe employed in carrying stones and earth.'\n\n\"Thus spake he, and for three years were these two asses compelled to\ncarry stones and earth; and their backs were sore wounded, and\ncovered with bruises. Then saw the Chan their eyes filled with tears,\nand he said to the minister, 'Torment the poor brutes no longer.'\n\n\"Thereupon they rolled upon the paper, and after they had done so they\nwere changed to two shrivelled women.\"\n\n\"Poor creatures!\" exclaimed the Son of the Chan. Ssidi replied, \"Ruler\nof Destiny, thou hast spoken words: Ssarwala missdood jakzank!\" Thus\nspoke he, and flew out of the sack through the air.\n\nAnd Ssidi's second relation treats of the adventures of the Poor Man's\nSon.\n\n\nTHE ADVENTURES OF MASSANG.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan arrived at the foot of the amiri-tree, and\nspoke as he had formerly done, Ssidi approached him, suffered himself\nto be placed in the sack, fastened with the rope, and carried away.\nSsidi spoke as before, but the Son of the Chan shook his head,\nwhereupon Ssidi began as follows:--\n\n\"A long time ago there lived in a certain country a poor man, who had\nnothing in the world but one cow; and because there was no chance of\nthe cow's calving, he was sore grieved, and said, 'If my cow does not\nhave a calf, I shall have no more milk, and I must then die of hunger\nand thirst.'\n\n\"But when a certain number of moons had passed, instead of the calf\nthe poor man had looked for he found a man with horns, and with a long\ntail like a cow. And at the sight of this monster the owner of the\nbeast was filled with vexation, and he lifted up his staff to kill\nhim; but the horned man said, 'Kill me not, father, and your mercy\nshall be rewarded.'\n\n\"And with these words he retreated into the depth of a forest, and\nthere he found among the trees a man of sable hue. 'Who art thou?'\ninquired Massang the horned. 'I was born of the forest,' was the\nreply, 'and am called Iddar. I will follow thee whithersoever thou\ngoest.'\n\n\"And they journeyed forth together, and at last they reached a\nthickly-covered grassy plain, and there they beheld a green man. 'Who\nart thou?' inquired they. 'I was born of the grass,' replied the green\nman, 'and will bear thee company.'\n\n\"Thereupon they all three journeyed forth together, until they came to\na sedgy marsh, and there they found a white man. 'Who art thou?'\ninquired they. 'I was born of the sedges,' replied the white man, 'and\nwill bear thee company.'\n\n\"Thereupon they all four journeyed forth together, until they reached\na desert country, where, in the very depths of the mountain, they\nfound a hut; and because they found plenty both to eat and to drink in\nthe hut, they abode there. Every day three of them went out hunting,\nand left the fourth in charge of the hut. On the first day, Iddar, the\nSon of the Forest, remained in the hut, and was busied preparing milk,\nand cooking meat for his companions, when a little old woman put up\nthe ladder and came in at the door. 'Who's there?' exclaimed Iddar,\nand, upon looking round, he beheld an old woman about a span high, who\ncarried on her back a little sack. 'Oh, what, there is somebody\nsitting there?' said the old woman, 'and you are cooking meat; let me,\nI beseech you, taste a little milk and a little meat.'\n\n\"And though she merely tasted a little of each, the whole of the food\ndisappeared. When the old woman thereupon took her departure, the Son\nof the Forest was ashamed that the food had disappeared, and he arose\nand looked out of the hut. And as he chanced to perceive two hoofs of\na horse, he made with them a number of horse's footmarks around the\ndwelling, and shot an arrow into the court; and when the hunters\nreturned home and inquired of him, 'Where is the milk and the fatted\nmeat?' he answered them, saying, 'There came a hundred horsemen, who\npressed their way into the house, and took the milk and the flesh, and\nthey have beaten me almost to death. Go ye out, and look around.' And\nhis companions went out when they heard these words, looked around,\nsaw the prints of the horses' feet and the arrow which he himself had\nshot, and said, 'The words which he spoke are true.'\n\n\"On the following day the Son of the Grass remained at home in the\nhut, and it befell him as it had befallen his companion on the\nprevious day. But because he perceived the feet of two bullocks, he\nmade with them the marks of the feet of many bullocks around the\ndwelling, and said to his companions, 'There came a hundred people\nwith laden bullocks, and robbed me of the food I had prepared for\nyou.'\n\n\"Thus spake he falsely. On the third day the Son of the Sedges\nremained at home in the hut, and because he met with no better\nfortune, he made, with a couple of the feet of a mule, a number of\nprints of mules' feet around the dwelling, and said to his companions,\n'A hundred men with laden mules surrounded the house, and robbed me of\nthe food I had prepared for you.'\n\n\"Thus spake he falsely. On the following day Massang remained at home\nin the hut, and as he was sitting preparing milk and flesh for his\ncompanions, the little old woman stepped in as before and said, 'Oh,\nso there is somebody here this time? Let me, I pray you, taste a\nlittle of the milk and a little of the meat.' At these words Massang\nconsidered, 'Of a certainty this old woman has been here before. If I\ndo what she requires of me, how do I know that there will be any\nleft?' And having thus considered, he said to the old woman, 'Old\nwoman, before thou tastest food, fetch me some water.' Thus spoke he,\ngiving her a bucket, of which the bottom was drilled full of holes, to\nfetch water in. When the old woman was gone, Massang looked after her,\nand found that the span-high old woman, reaching now up to the skies,\ndrew the bucket full of water again and again, but that none of the\nwater remained in it. While she was thus occupied, Massang peeped into\nthe little sack which she carried on her shoulders, and took out of it\na coil of rope, an iron hammer, and a pair of iron pincers, and put in\ntheir place some very rotten cords, a wooden hammer, and wooden\npincers.\n\n\"He had scarcely done so before the old woman returned, saying, 'I\ncannot draw water in your bucket. If you will not give me a little of\nyour food to taste, let us try our strength against each other.' Then\nthe old woman drew forth the coil of rotten cords, and bound Massang\nwith them, but Massang put forth his strength and burst the cords\nasunder. But when Massang had bound the old woman with her own coil,\nand deprived her of all power of motion, she said unto him, 'Herein\nthou hast gotten the victory; now let us pinch each other with the\npincers.'\n\n\"Whereupon Massang nipped hold of a piece of the old woman's flesh as\nbig as one's head, and tore it forcibly from her. 'Indeed, youth,'\ncried the old woman, sighing, 'but thou hast gotten a hand of stone;\nnow let us hammer away at each other!'\n\n\"So saying, she smote Massang with the wooden hammer on his breast,\nbut the hammer flew from the handle, and Massang was left without a\nwound. Then drew Massang the iron hammer out of the fire, and smote\nthe old woman with it in such wise that she fled from the hut crying\nand wounded.\n\n\"Shortly after this, the three companions returned home, and said to\nMassang, 'Now, Massang, thou hast surely had something to suffer?' But\nMassang replied, 'Ye are all cowardly fellows, and have uttered lies;\nI have paid off the old woman. Arise, and let us follow her!'\n\n\"At these words they arose, followed her by the traces of her blood,\nand at length reached a gloomy pit in a rock. At the bottom of this\npit there were ten double circular pillars, and on the ground lay the\ncorpse of the old woman, among gold, brass, and armour, and other\ncostly things. 'Will you three descend,' said Massang, 'and then pack\ntogether the costly things, and I will draw them up, or I will pack\nthem, and you shall draw them out.' But the three companions said, 'We\nwill not go down into the cavern, for of a verity the old woman is a\nSchumnu' (a witch). But Massang, without being dispirited, allowed\nhimself to be let down into the cavern, and collected the valuables,\nwhich were then drawn forth by his companions. Then his companions\nspoke with one another, saying, 'If we draw forth Massang, he will\nsurely take all these treasures to himself. It were better, then, that\nwe should carry away these treasures, and leave Massang behind in the\ncavern!'\n\n\"When Massang noticed that his three companions treated him thus\nungratefully, he looked about the cavern in search of food, but\nbetween the pillars he found nothing but some pieces of bark.\nThereupon Massang planted the bark in the earth, nourished it as best\nhe might, and said, 'If I am a true Massang, then from this bark let\nthere grow forth three great trees. If I am not, then shall I die here\nin this pit.'\n\n\"After these enchanting words, he laid himself down, but from his\nhaving come in contact with the corse of the old woman, he slept for\nmany years. When he awoke, he found three great trees which reached to\nthe mouth of the pit. Joyfully clambered he up and betook himself to\nthe hut, which was in the neighbourhood. But, because there was no\nlonger any one to be found therein, he took his iron bow and his\narrows, and set forth in search of his companions. These had built\nthemselves houses and taken wives. 'Where are your husbands?' inquired\nMassang of their wives. 'Our husbands are gone to the chase,' replied\nthey. Then Massang took arrow and bow, and set forth. His companions\nwere returning from the chase with venison, and when they beheld\nMassang with arrow and bow, they cried, as with one accord, 'Thou art\nthe well-skilled one! take thou our wives and property, we will now\nwander forth further!' At these words Massang said, 'Your behaviour\nwas certainly not what it should have been; but I am going to reward\nmy father--live on, therefore, as before.'\n\n\"By the way Massang discovered a brook, and out of the brook arose a\nbeautiful maiden. The maiden went her way, and flowers arose out of\nher footsteps. Massang followed the maiden until he arrived in heaven,\nand when he was come there, Churmusta Tangari (the Protector of the\nEarth) said unto him, 'It is well that thou art come hither, Massang.\nWe have daily to fight with the host of Schumnu (witches). To-morrow\nlook around; after to-morrow be companion unto us.'\n\n\"On the following day, when the white host were sore pressed by the\nblack, Churmusta spake unto Massang: 'The white host are the host of\nthe Tangari, the black are the host of the Schumnu. To-day the Tangari\nwill be pressed by the Schumnu; draw, therefore, thy bow, and send an\narrow into the eye of the leader of the black host.' Then Massang\naimed at the eye of the leader of the black host, and smote him, so\nthat he fled with a mighty cry. Then spake Churmusta to Massang, 'Thy\ndeed is deserving of reward; henceforward dwell with us for ever.'\nBut Massang replied, 'I go to reward my father.'\n\n\"Hereupon Churmusta presented to Massang, Dschindamani, the\nwonder-stone of the Gods, and said unto him, 'By a narrow circuitous\npath you will reach the cave of the Schumnu. Go without fear or\ntrembling therein. Knock at the door and say, \"I am the human\nphysician.\" They will then lead thee to the Schumnu Chan, that you may\ndraw out the arrow from his eyes; then lay hands upon the arrow,\nscatter seven sorts of grain towards heaven, and drive the arrow yet\ndeeper into his head.'\n\n\"Thus spake Churmusta authoritatively, and Massang obeyed his\ncommands; reached, without erring, the cavern of the Schumnu, and\nknocked at the door. 'What hast thou learned?' inquired the woman. 'I\nam a physician,' answered Massang; and he was conducted into the\nbuilding. He examined the wound of the Chan, and laid hands upon the\narrow. 'Already,' said the Chan, 'my wound feels better.' But Massang\nsuddenly drove the arrow further into the head, scattered the seven\ngrains towards heaven, and a chain fell clattering from heaven down to\nearth.\n\n\"But while Massang was preparing to lay hands upon the chain, the\nSchumnu woman smote him with an iron hammer with such force, that from\nthe blow there sprang forth seven stars.\"\n\n\"Then,\" said the Son of the Chan, \"he was not able to reward his\nfather.\"\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood\njonkzang.\" Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's third relation treats of the adventures of Massang.\n\n\nTHE MAGICIAN WITH THE SWINE'S HEAD.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan had, as before, seized upon Ssidi, and was\ncarrying him away, Ssidi spoke as formerly, but the Son of the Chan\nshook his head, without uttering a word, and Ssidi began the following\nrelation:--\n\n\"A long while since there lived in a happy country a man and a woman.\nThe man had many bad qualities, and cared for nothing but eating,\ndrinking, and sleeping. At last his wife said unto him, 'By thy mode\nof life thou hast wasted all thine inheritance. Arise thee, then, from\nthy bed, and while I am in the fields, go you out and look about you!'\n\n\"As he, therefore, according to these words, was looking about him, he\nsaw a multitude of people pass behind the pagoda with their herds; and\nbirds, foxes, and dogs crowding and noising together around a\nparticular spot. Thither he went, and there found a bladder of butter;\nso he took it home and placed it upon the shelf. When his wife\nreturned and saw the bladder of butter upon the shelf, she asked,\n'Where found you this bladder of butter?' To this he replied, 'I did\naccording to your word, and found this.' Then said the woman 'Thou\nwent out but for an instant, and hast already found thus much.'\n\n\"Then the man determined to display his abilities, and said, 'Procure\nme then a horse, some clothes, and a bloodhound.' The wife provided\nthem accordingly; and the man taking with him, besides these, his bow,\ncap, and mantle, seated himself on horseback, led the hound in a\nleash, and rode forth at random. After he had crossed over several\nrivers he espied a fox. 'Ah,' thought he, 'that would serve my wife\nfor a cap.'\n\n\"So saying, he pursued the fox, and when it fled into a hamster's\nhole, the man got off his horse, placed his bow, arrows, and clothes\nupon the saddle, fastened the bloodhound to the bridle, and covered\nthe mouth of the hole with his cap. The next thing he did was to take\na large stone, and hammer over the hole with it; this frightened the\nfox, which ran out and fled with the cap upon its head. The hound\nfollowed the fox, and drew the horse along with it, so that they both\nvanished in an instant, and the man was left without any clothes.\n\n\"After he had turned back a long way, he reached the country of a\nmighty Chan, entered the Chan's stable, and concealed himself in a\nstack of hay, so that merely his eyes were left uncovered. Not long\nafterwards, the beloved of the Chan was walking out, and wishing to\nlook at a favourite horse, she approached close to the hayrick, placed\nthe talisman of life of the Chan's kingdom upon the ground, left it\nthere, and returned back to the palace without recollecting it. The\nman saw the wonderful stone, but was too lazy to pick it up. At sunset\nthe cows came by, and the stone was beaten into the ground. Some time\nafterwards a servant came and cleansed the place, and the wonderful\nstone was cast aside upon a heap.\n\n\"On the following day the people were informed, by the beating of the\nkettledrums, that the beloved of the Chan had lost the wonderful\nstone. At the same time, all the magicians and soothsayers and\ninterpreters of signs were summoned, and questioned upon the subject.\nOn hearing this, the man in the hayrick crept out as far as his\nbreast, and when the people thronged around him and asked, 'What hast\nthou learned?' he replied, 'I am a magician.' On hearing these words\nthey exclaimed, 'Because the wondrous stone of the Chan is missing,\nall the magicians in the country are summoned to appear before him. Do\nyou then draw nigh unto the Chan.' The man said, 'I have no clothes.'\nHereupon the whole crowd hastened to the Chan, and announced unto him\nthus: 'In the hayrick there lieth a magician who has no clothes. This\nmagician would draw nigh unto you, but he has nought to appear in.'\nThe Chan said, 'Send unto him this robe of cloth, and let him\napproach.' It was done.\n\n\"The man was fetched, and after he had bowed down to the Chan, he was\nasked what he needed for the performance of his magic charms. To this\nquestion he replied, 'For the performance of my magic charms, it is\nneedful that I should have the head of a swine, some cloths of five\ncolours, and some baling' (a sacred figure of dough or paste). When\nall these things were prepared, the magician deposited the swine's\nhead at the foot of a tree, dressed it with the cloths of five\ncolours, fastened on the large baling, and passed the whole of three\nnights in meditation. On the day appointed, all the people assembled,\nand the magician having put on a great durga (cloak), placed himself,\nwith the swine's head in his hand, in the street. When they were all\nassembled together, the magician, showing the swine's head, said,\n'Here not and there not.' All were gladdened at hearing these words.\n'Because, therefore,' said the magician, 'the wonderful stone is not\nto be found among the people, we must seek for it elsewhere.'\n\n\"With these words the magician, still holding the swine's head in his\nhand, drew nigh unto the palace, and the Chan and his attendants\nfollowed him, singing songs of rejoicing. When, at last, the magician\narrived at the heap, he stood suddenly still, and exclaimed, 'There\nlies the wonderful stone.' Then, first removing some of the earth, he\ndrew forth the stone, and cleansed it. 'Thou art a mighty magician,'\njoyfully exclaimed all who beheld it. 'Thou art the master of magic\nwith the swine's head. Lift up thyself that thou mayest receive thy\nreward.' The Chan said, 'Thy reward shall be whatsoever thou wilt.'\nThe magician, who thought only of the property he had lost, said,\n'Give unto me a horse, with saddle and bridle, a bow and arrows, a\ncap, a mantle, a hound, and a fox. Such things give unto me.' At these\nwords the Chan exclaimed, 'Give him all that he desireth.' This was\ndone, and the magician returned home with all that he desired, and\nwith two elephants, one carrying meat, and the other butter.\n\n\"His wife met him close to his dwelling, with brandy for him to drink,\nand said, 'Now, indeed, thou art become a mighty man.' Thereupon they\nwent into the house, and when they had laid themselves down to sleep,\nthe wife said to him, 'Where hast thou found so much flesh and so much\nbutter?' Then her husband related to her circumstantially the whole\naffair, and she answered him saying, 'Verily, thou art a stupid ass.\nTo-morrow I will go with a letter to the Chan.'\n\n\"The wife accordingly wrote a letter, and in the letter were the\nfollowing words:--'Because it was known unto me that the lost\nwondrous stone retained some evil influence over the Chan, I have, for\nthe obviating of that influence, desired of him the dog and the fox.\nWhat I may receive for my reward depends upon the pleasure of the\nChan.'\n\n\"The Chan read the letter through, and sent costly presents to the\nmagician. And the magician lived pleasantly and happily.\n\n\"Now in a neighbouring country there dwelt seven Chans, brethren. Once\nupon a time they betook themselves, for pastime, to an extensive\nforest, and there they discovered a beauteous maiden with a buffalo,\nand they asked, 'What are you two doing here? Whence come you?' The\nmaiden answered, 'I come from an eastern country, and am the daughter\nof a Chan. This buffalo accompanies me.' At these words these others\nreplied, 'We are the seven brethren of a Chan, and have no wife. Wilt\nthou be our wife?'[1] The maiden answered, 'So be it.' But the maiden\nand the buffalo were two Mangusch (a species of evil spirit like the\nSchumnu), and were seeking out men whom they might devour. The male\nMangusch was a buffalo, and the female, she who became wife to the\nbrethren.\n\n    [1] It is in accordance with the customs of Thibet for a\n    woman of that country to have several husbands.\n\n\"After the Mangusch had slain, yearly, one of the brethren of the\nChan, there was only one remaining. And because he was suffering from\na grievous sickness, the ministers consulted together and said, 'For\nthe sickness of the other Chans we have tried all means of cure, and\nyet have found no help, neither do we in this case know what to\nadvise. But the magician with the swine's head dwells only two\nmountains off from us, and he is held in great estimation; let us,\nwithout further delay, send for him to our assistance.'\n\n\"Upon this four mounted messengers were despatched for the magician,\nand when they arrived at his dwelling, they made known to him the\nobject of their mission. 'I will,' said the magician, 'consider of\nthis matter in the course of the night, and will tell you in the\nmorning what is to be done.'\n\n\"During the night he related to his wife what was required of him, and\nhis wife said, 'You are looked upon, up to this time, as a magician of\nextraordinary skill; but from this time there is an end to your\nreputation. However, it cannot be helped, so go you must.'\n\n\"On the following morning the magician said to the messengers, 'During\nthe night-time I have pondered upon this matter, and a good omen has\npresented itself to me in a dream. Let me not tarry any longer but\nride forth to-day.' The magician, thereupon, equipped himself in a\nlarge cloak, bound his hair together on the crown of his head, carried\nin his left hand the rosary, and in his right the swine's head,\nenveloped in the cloths of five colours.\n\n\"When in this guise he presented himself before the dwelling-place of\nthe Chan, the two Mangusch were sorely frightened, and thought to\nthemselves, 'This man has quite the appearance, quite the countenance,\nof a man of learning.' Then the magician, first placing a baling on\nthe pillow of the bed, lifted up the swine's head, and muttered\ncertain magic words.\n\n\"The wife of the Chan seeing this discontinued tormenting the soul of\nthe Chan, and fled in all haste out of the room. The Chan, by this\nconduct being freed from the pains of sickness, sank into a sound\nsleep. 'What is this?' exclaimed the magician, filled with affright.\n'The disease has grown worse, the sick man uttereth not a sound; the\nsick man hath departed.' Thus thinking, he cried, 'Chan, Chan!' But\nbecause the Chan uttered no sound, the magician seized the swine's\nhead, vanished through the door, and entered the treasure-chamber. No\nsooner had he done so, than 'Thief, thief!' sounded in his ears, and\nthe magician fled into the kitchen; but the cry of 'Stop that thief!\nstop that thief!' still followed him. Thus pursued the magician\nthought to himself, 'This night it is of no use to think of getting\naway, so I will, therefore, conceal myself in a corner of the stable.'\nThus thinking, he opened the door, and there found a buffalo, that\nlay there as if wearied with a long journey. The magician took the\nswine's head, and struck the buffalo three times between the horns,\nwhereupon the buffalo sprang up and fled like the wind.\n\n\"But the magician followed after the buffalo, and when he approached\nthe spot where he was, he heard the male Mangusch say to his female\ncompanion, 'Yonder magician knew that I was in the stable; with his\nfrightful swine's head he struck me three blows--so that it was time\nfor me to escape from him.' And the Chan's wife replied, 'I too am so\nafraid, because of his great knowledge, that I would not willingly\nreturn; for, of a certainty, things will go badly with us. To-morrow\nhe will gather together the men with weapons and arms, and will say\nunto the women, \"Bring hither firing;\" when this is done he will say,\n\"Lead the buffalo hither.\" And when thou appearest, he will say unto\nthee, \"Put off the form thou hast assumed.\" And because all resistance\nwould be useless, the people perceiving thy true shape will fall upon\nthee with swords, and spears, and stones; and when they have put thee\nto death, they will consume thee with fire. At last the magician will\ncause me to be dragged forth and consumed with fire. Oh, but I am sore\nafraid!'\n\n\"When the magician heard these words, he said to himself, 'After this\nfashion may the thing be easily accomplished.' Upon this he betook\nhimself, with the swine's head to the Chan, lifted up the baling,\nmurmured his words of magic, and asked, 'How is it now with the\nsickness of the Chan?' And the Chan replied, 'Upon the arrival of the\nmaster of magic the sickness passed away, and I have slept soundly.'\nThen the magician spake as follows: 'To-morrow, then, give this\ncommand to thy ministers, that they collect the whole of the people\ntogether, and that the women be desired to bring firing with them.'\n\n\"When, in obedience to these directions, there were two lofty piles of\nfagots gathered together, the magician said, 'Place my saddle upon the\nbuffalo.' Then the magician rode upon the saddled buffalo three times\naround the assembled people, then removed the saddle from the buffalo,\nsmote it three times with the swine's head, and said, 'Put off the\nform thou hast assumed.'\n\n\"At these words the buffalo was transformed into a fearful ugly\nMangusch. His eyes were bloodshot, his upper tusks descended to his\nbreast, his bottom tusks reached up to his eyelashes, so that he was\nfearful to behold. When the people had hewed this Mangusch to pieces\nwith sword and with arrow, with spear and with stone, and his body was\nconsumed upon one of the piles of fagots, then said the magician,\n'Bring forth the wife of the Chan.' And with loud cries did the wife\nof the Chan come forth, and the magician smote her with the swine's\nhead, and said, 'Appear in thine own form!' Immediately her long tusks\nand bloodshot eyes exhibited the terrific figure of a female Mangusch.\n\n\"After the wife of the Chan had been cut in pieces, and consumed by\nfire, the magician mounted his horse; but the people bowed themselves\nbefore him, and strewed grain over him, presented him with gifts, and\nregaled him so on every side, that he was only enabled to reach the\npalace of the Chan on the following morning. Then spake the Chan, full\nof joy, to the magician, 'How can I reward you for the great deed that\nthou hast done?' And the magician answered, 'In our country there are\nbut few nose-sticks for oxen to be found. Give me, I pray you, some of\nthese nose-sticks.' Thus spake he, and the Chan had him conducted home\nwith three sacks of nose-sticks, and seven elephants bearing meat and\nbutter.\n\n\"Near unto his dwelling his wife came with brandy to meet him; and\nwhen she beheld the elephants, she exclaimed, 'Now, indeed, thou art\nbecome a mighty man.' Then they betook themselves to their house, and\nat night-time the wife of the magician asked him, 'How camest thou to\nbe presented with such gifts?' The magician replied, 'I have cured the\nsickness of the Chan, and consumed with fire two Mangusch.' At these\nwords she replied, 'Verily, thou hast behaved very foolishly. After\nsuch a beneficial act, to desire nothing but nose-sticks for cattle!\nTo-morrow I myself will go to the Chan.'\n\n\"On the morrow the wife drew near unto the Chan, and presented unto\nhim a letter from the magician, and in this letter stood the following\nwords:--'Because the magician was aware that of the great evil of the\nChan a lesser evil still remained behind, he desired of him the\nnose-sticks. What he is to receive as a reward depends upon the\npleasure of the Chan.'\n\n\"'He is right,' replied the Chan, and he summoned the magician, with\nhis father and mother, and all his relations before him, and received\nthem with every demonstration of honour. 'But for you I should have\ndied; the kingdom would have been annihilated; the ministers and all\nthe people consumed as the food of the Mangusch. I, therefore, will\nhonour thee,' and he bestowed upon him proofs of his favour.\"\n\n\"Both man and wife were intelligent,\" exclaimed the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny,\" replied Ssidi, \"thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala\nmissdood jakzang!\" Thus spake he, and burst from the sack through the\nair.\n\nSsidi's fourth relation treats of the Magician with the head of the\nSwine.\n\n\nTHE HISTORY OF SUNSHINE AND HIS BROTHER.\n\nAs the Chan's Son was journeying along as before, laden with Ssidi,\nSsidi inquired of him as formerly who should tell a tale. But the Son\nof the Chan shook his head without speaking a word, and Ssidi began as\nfollows:--\n\n\"Many years ago Guchanasschang reigned over a certain happy land. This\nChan had a wife and a son, whose name was Sunshine (Narrani Garral).\nUpon the death of his first wife the Chan married a second; and by her\nlikewise he had a son, and the name of his second son was Moonshine\n(Ssarrani Garral). And when both these sons were grown up, the wife of\nthe Chan thought to herself, 'So long as Sunshine, the elder brother,\nlives, Moonshine, the younger, will never be Chan over this land.'\n\n\"Some time after this the wife of the Chan fell sick, and tossed and\ntumbled about on her bed from the seeming agony she endured. And the\nChan inquired of her, 'What can be done for you, my noble spouse?' To\nthese words the wife of the Chan replied, 'Even at the time I dwelt\nwith my parents I was subject to this sickness. But now it is become\npast bearing. I know, indeed, but one way of removing it; and that way\nis so impracticable, that there is nothing left for me but to die.'\nHereupon spake the Chan, 'Tell unto me this way of help, and though it\nshould cost me half my kingdom thou shalt have it. Tell me what thou\nrequirest.' Thus spake he, and his wife replied with the following\nwords, 'If the heart of one of the Chan's sons were roasted in the fat\nof the Gunsa (a beast); but thou wilt not, of course, sacrifice\nSunshine for this purpose; and I myself bare Moonshine, his heart I\nwill not consume. So that there is now nothing left for me but to\ndie.' The Chan replied, 'Of a surety Sunshine is my son, and\ninexpressibly dear unto me; but in order that I may not lose thee, I\nwill to-morrow deliver him over to the Jargatschi' (the servants of\nJustice).\n\n\"Moonshine overheard these words and hastened to his brother, and\nsaid, 'To-morrow they will murder thee.' When he had related all the\ncircumstances, the brother replied, 'Since it is so, do you remain at\nhome, honouring your father and mother. The time of my flight is\ncome.' Then said Moonshine with a troubled heart, 'Alone I will not\nremain, but I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest.'\n\n\"Because the following day was appointed for the murder, the two\nbrothers took a sack with baling-cakes from the altar, crept out at\nnight, for it was the night of the full moon, from the palace, and\njourneyed on day and night through the mountainous country, until they\nat length arrived at the course of a dried-up river. Because their\nprovender was finished, and the river afforded no water, Moonshine\nfell to the earth utterly exhausted. Then spake the elder brother,\nfull of affliction, 'I will go and seek water; but do you watch an\ninstant until I come down from the high places.'\n\n\"After some vain attempts Sunshine returned, and found that his\nbrother had departed this life. After he had with great tenderness\ncovered the body of his brother with stones, he wandered over high\nmountains, and then arrived at the entrance of a cave. Within the cave\nsat an aged Arschi. 'Whence comest thou?' inquired the old man, 'thy\ncountenance betokeneth deep affliction.' And when the youth had\nrelated all that had passed, the old man, taking with him the means of\nawakening the dead, went with the youth to the grave, and called\nMoonshine back to life. 'Will ye be unto me as sons?' Thus spake the\nold man, and the two young men became as sons unto him.\n\n\"Not far from this place there reigned a mighty Chan of fearful power;\nand the time was approaching in this country when the fields were\nwatered, but the crocodiles prevented this. The crocodiles frequented\na marsh at the source of the river, and would not allow the water to\nstream forth until such times as a Son of the Tiger-year[2] had been\noffered to them as food. After a time it happened that when search\nhad been made in vain for a Son of the Tiger-year, certain people drew\nnigh unto the Chan, and said, 'Near unto the source of the river\ndwelleth the old Arschi, and with him a Son of the Tiger-year. Thither\nled we our cattle to drink, and we saw him.'\n\n    [2] Among the Calmucs every year has its peculiar name, and\n    persons born in any year are called the children of that\n    year.\n\n\"When he heard this, the Chan said, 'Go and fetch him.'\n\n\"Accordingly the messengers were despatched for him, and when they\narrived at the entrance of the cave, the Arschi himself came forth.\n'What is it that ye seek here?' inquired the aged Arschi. 'The Chan,'\nreplied they, 'speaketh to thee thus: Thou hast a Son of the\nTiger-year. My kingdom hath need of him: send him unto me.' But the\nArschi said, 'Who could have told you so? who, indeed, would dwell\nwith an old Arschi?'\n\n\"Thus speaking he retired into his cave, closed the door after him,\nand concealed the youth in a stone chest, placed the lid on him, and\ncemented up the crevices with clay, as if it was from the distillation\nof arrack. But the messengers having broken down the door, thrust\nthemselves into the cave, searched it, and then said, 'Since he whom\nwe sought is not here, we are determined that nothing shall be left in\nthe cave.' Thus speaking, they drew their swords; and the youth said,\nout of fear for the Arschi, 'Hurt not my father; I am here.'\n\n\"And when the youth was come forth, the messengers took him with\nthem; but the Arschi they left behind them weeping and sorrowing. When\nthe youth entered into the palace of the Chan, the daughter of the\nChan beheld him and loved him, and encircled his neck with her arms.\nBut the attendants addressed the Chan, saying, 'To-day is the day\nappointed for the casting of the Son of the Tiger-year into the\nwaters.' Upon this the Chan said, 'Let him then be cast into the\nwaters!' But when they would have led him forth for that purpose, the\ndaughter of the Chan spake and said, 'Cast him not into the waters, or\ncast me into the waters with him.'\n\n\"And when the Chan heard these words, he was angered, and said,\n'Because this maiden careth so little for the welfare of the kingdom,\nover which I am Chan, let her be bound fast unto the Son of the\nTiger-year, and let them be cast together into the waters.' And the\nattendants said, 'It shall be according as you have commanded.'\n\n\"And when the youth was bound fast, and with the maiden cast into the\nwaters, he cried out, 'Since I am the Son of the Tiger-year, it is\ncertainly lawful for them to cast me into the waters; but why should\nthis charming maiden die, who so loveth me?' But the maiden said,\n'Since I am but an unworthy creature, it is certainly lawful for them\nto cast me into the waters; but wherefore do they cast in this\nbeauteous youth?'\n\n\"Now the crocodiles heard these words, felt compassion, and placed\nthe lovers once more upon the shore. And no sooner had this happened\nthan the streams began to flow again. And when they were thus saved,\nthe maiden said to the youth, 'Come with me, I pray you, unto the\npalace?' and he replied, 'When I have sought out my father Arschi,\nthen will I come, and we will live together unsevered as man and\nwife.'\n\n\"Accordingly the youth returned to the cave of the old Arschi, and\nknocked at the door. 'I am thy son,' said he. 'My son,' replied the\nold man, 'has the Chan taken and slain; therefore it is that I sit\nhere and weep.' At these words the son replied, 'Of a verity I am thy\nson. The Chan indeed bade them cast me into the waters; but because\nthe crocodiles devoured me not, I am returned unto you. Weep not, O my\nfather!'\n\n\"Arschi then opened the door, but he had suffered his beard and the\nhair of his head to grow, so that he looked like a dead man. Sunshine\nwashed him therefore with milk and with water, and aroused him by\ntender words from his great sorrow.\n\n\"Now when the maiden returned back again to the palace, the Chan and\nthe whole people were exceedingly amazed. 'The crocodiles,' they\nexclaimed, 'have, contrary to their wont, felt compassion for this\nmaiden and spared her. This is indeed a very wonder.' So the whole\npeople passed around the maiden, bowing themselves down before her.\nBut the Chan said, 'That the maiden is returned is indeed very good.\nBut the Son of the Tiger-year is assuredly devoured.' At these words\nhis daughter replied unto him, 'The Son of the Tiger-year assuredly is\nnot devoured. On account of his goodness his life was spared him.'\n\n\"And when she said this, all were more than ever surprised. 'Arise!'\nsaid the Chan to his ministers, 'lead this youth hither.' Agreeably to\nthese commands, the ministers hastened to the cave of the aged Arschi.\nBoth Arschi and the youth arose, and when they approached unto the\ndwelling of the Chan, the Chan said, 'For the mighty benefits which\nthis youth has conferred upon us, and upon our dominions, we feel\nourselves bound to go forth to meet him.'\n\n\"Thus spake he, and he went forth to meet the youth, and led him into\nthe interior of the palace, and placed him upon one of the seats\nappropriated to the nobles. 'O thou most wondrous youth!' he\nexclaimed, 'art thou indeed the son of Arschi?' The youth replied, 'I\nam the Son of a Chan. But because my stepmother, out of the love she\nbare to her own son, sought to slay me, I fled, and, accompanied by my\nyounger brother, arrived at the cave of the aged Arschi.'\n\n\"When the Son of the Chan related all this, the Chan loaded him with\nhonours, and gave his daughters for wives unto the two brothers, and\nsent them, with many costly gifts and a good retinue, home to their\nown kingdom. Thither they went, drew nigh unto the palace, and wrote a\nletter as follows:--'To the Chan their father, the two brothers are\nreturned back again.'\n\n\"Now the father and mother had for many years bewailed the loss of\nboth their sons, and their sorrows had rendered them so gloomy that\nthey remained ever alone.\n\n\"On receipt of this letter they sent forth a large body of people to\nmeet their children. But because the wife of the Chan saw both the\nyouths approaching with costly gifts and a goodly retinue, so great\nwas her envy that she died.\"\n\n\"She was very justly served!\" exclaimed the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood\njonkzang.\" Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's fifth relation treats of Sunshine and his brother.\n\n\nTHE WONDERFUL MAN WHO OVERCAME THE CHAN.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan had proceeded as formerly to seize the dead\none, then spake he the threatening words, seized upon Ssidi, thrust\nhim into the sack, tied the sack fast, ate of the butter-cakes, and\njourneyed forth with his burden. After Ssidi had as before asked who\nshould tell the tale, and the Son of the Chan had replied by merely\nshaking his head, Ssidi began the following relation:--\n\n\"A long, long time ago there lived in the land of Barschiss, a wild,\nhigh-spirited man, who would not allow any one to be above him. Then\nspake the Chan of the kingdom to him, full of displeasure, 'Away with\nthee, thou good-for-nothing one! Away with thee to some other\nkingdom!' Thus spake he, and the wild man departed forth out of the\ncountry.\n\n\"On his journey he arrived about mid-day at a forest, where he found\nthe body of a horse, which had been somehow killed, and he accordingly\ncut off its head, fastened it to his girdle, and climbed up a tree.\n\n\"About midnight there assembled a host of Tschadkurrs (evil spirits)\nmounted upon horses of bark, wearing likewise caps of bark, and they\nplaced themselves around the tree. Afterwards there assembled together\nother Tschadkurrs, mounted upon horses of paper, and having caps of\npaper on their heads, and they likewise placed themselves around the\ntree.\n\n\"During the time that those who were assembled were partaking of\nvarious choice wines and liquors, the man peeped anxiously down from\nthe tree, and as he was doing so, the horse's head fell down from his\nbelt. The Tschadkurrs were thereby exceedingly alarmed; so much that\nthey fled hither and thither uttering fearful cries.\n\n\"On the following morning the man descended from the tree, and said,\n'This night there was in this spot many choice viands and liquors, and\nnow they are all vanished.' And while he was thus speaking, he found a\nbrandy flask, and as he was anxious for something to drink, he\nimmediately applied the flask which he had found to his lips; when\nsuddenly there sprang out of it meat and cakes and other delicacies\nfit for eating. 'This flask,' cried he, 'is of a surety a wishing\nflask, which will procure him who has it everything he desires. I will\ntake the flask with me.'\n\n\"And when he had thus spoken, he continued his journey until he met\nwith a man holding a sword in his hand. 'Wherefore,' cried he, 'dost\nthou carry that sword in thine hand?' And the man answered, 'This\nsword is called Kreischwinger; and when I say to it, \"Kreischwinger,\nthither goes a man who has taken such a thing from me, follow him and\nbring it back,\" Kreischwinger goes forth, kills the man, and brings my\nproperty back again.' To this the first replied, 'Out of this vessel\nspringeth everything you desire; let us exchange.' So accordingly they\nmade an exchange; and when the man went away with the flask, he who\nnow owned the sword said, 'Kreischwinger, go forth now and bring me\nback my flask.' So the sword went forth, smote his former master dead,\nand brought the golden vessel back again.\n\n\"When he had journeyed a little further, he met a man holding in his\nhand an iron hammer. 'Wherefore,' cried he, 'dost thou hold this\nhammer in thy hand?' To this question the other replied, 'When I\nstrike the earth nine times with this hammer, there immediately arises\na wall of iron, nine pillars high.' Then said the first, 'Let us make\nan exchange.' And when the exchange was made, he cried out,\n'Kreischwinger, go forth and bring me back my golden vessel!'\n\n\"After Kreischwinger had slain the man, and brought back the golden\nvessel, the man journeyed on until he encountered another man,\ncarrying in his bosom a sack, made of goatskin, and he asked him,\n'Wherefore keepest thou that sack?' To this question the other\nreplied, 'This sack is a very wonderful thing. When you shake it, it\nrains heavily; and if you shake it very hard, it rains very heavily.'\nHereupon the owner of the flask said, 'Let us change,' and they\nchanged accordingly; and the sword went forth, slew the man, and\nreturned back to its master with the golden vessel.\n\n\"When the man found himself in the possession of all these wonderful\nthings, he said unto himself, 'The Chan of my country is indeed a\ncruel man; nevertheless I will turn back unto my native land.' When\nhe had thus considered, he turned back again, and concealed himself in\nthe neighbourhood of the royal palace.\n\n\"About midnight he struck the earth nine times with his iron hammer,\nand there arose an iron wall nine pillars high.\n\n\"On the following morning the Chan arose, and said, 'During the night\nI have heard a mighty tock, tock at the back of the palace.' Thereupon\nthe wife of the Chan looked out, and said, 'At the back of the palace\nthere stands an iron wall nine pillars high.' Thus spake she; and the\nChan replied, full of anger, 'The wild, high-spirited man has of a\nsurety erected this iron wall; but we shall see whether he or I will\nbe the conqueror.'\n\n\"When he had spoken these words the Chan commanded all the people to\ntake fuel and bellows, and make the iron wall red-hot on every side.\nThereupon there was an immense fire kindled, and the Wonderful Man\nfound himself, with his mother, within the wall of iron. He was\nhimself upon the upper pillars, but his mother was on the eighth. And\nbecause the heat first reached the mother, she exclaimed unto her son,\n'The fires which the Chan has commanded the people to kindle will\ndestroy the iron wall, and we shall both die.' The son replied, 'Have\nno fear, mother, for I can find means to prevent it.'\n\n\"When he had spoken these words he shook the sack of goatskin, and\nthere descended heavy rain and extinguished the fire. After that he\nshook the sack still more forcibly, and there arose around them a\nmighty sea, which carried away both the fuel and the bellows which the\npeople had collected.\"\n\n\"Thus, then, the Wonderful gained the mastery over the Chan,\"\nexclaimed the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood jakzang!\"\nThus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's sixth relation treats of the Wonderful Man who\noverpowered the Chan.\n\n\nTHE BIRD-MAN.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan had done as formerly, spoken the threatening\nwords, and carried off Ssidi, Ssidi asked him as before to tell a\ntale; but the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word,\nand Ssidi began as follows:--\n\n\"In times gone by there lived in a fair country the father of a\nfamily, whose three daughters had daily by turns to watch over the\ncalves. Now it once happened, during the time that the eldest sister\nshould have been watching the calves, that she fell asleep, and one of\nthem was lost. When the maiden awoke and missed the calf, she arose\nand went forth to seek it, and wandered about until she reached a\nlarge house with a red door.\n\n\"She went in, and then came to a golden door, next to that to a\nsilver one, and last of all to a brazen door. After she had likewise\nopened this door she found, close to the entrance of it, a cage\ndecorated with gold and all manner of costly jewels, and within it, on\na perch, there stood a white bird.\n\n\"'I have lost a calf,' said the maiden, 'and am come hither to seek\nit.' At these words the bird said, 'If thou wilt become my wife I will\nfind the calf for you, but not without.' But the maiden said, 'That\nmay not be; among men birds are looked upon but as wild creatures.\nTherefore I will not become your wife, even though, through refusing,\nI lose the calf for ever.' And when she had thus spoken she returned\nhome again.\n\n\"On the following day the second sister went forth to tend the calves,\nand she likewise lost one of them. And it happened unto her as it had\ndone unto the eldest sister, and she too refused to become the wife of\nthe bird.\n\n\"At last the youngest sister went forth with the calves, and when she\nmissed one she too wandered on until she reached the house wherein the\nbird resided. The bird said unto her likewise, 'If thou wilt become my\nwife, I will procure for thee the calf which thou hast lost.' 'Be it\naccording to thy will.' Thus spake she, and became the wife of the\nbird.\n\n\"After some time it happened that a mighty thirteen days' feast was\nheld at a large pagoda in the neighbourhood, and upon this occasion a\nnumber of persons assembled together, amongst the rest the wife of the\nbird. And she was the foremost among the women; but among the men the\nmost noticed was an armed man, who rode upon a white horse three times\nround the assemblage. And all who saw him exclaimed, 'He is the\nfirst.'\n\n\"And when the woman returned home again the white bird demanded of\nher, 'Who were the foremost among the men and the women who were there\nassembled together?' Then said the woman, 'The foremost among the men\nwas seated upon a white horse, but I knew him not. The foremost of the\nwomen was myself.'\n\n\"And for eleven days did these things so fall out. But on the twelfth\nday, when the wife of the bird went to the assemblage, she sat herself\ndown near an old woman. 'Who,' said the old woman, 'is the first in\nthe assemblage this day?' To this question the wife of the bird\nreplied, 'Among the men, the rider upon the white horse is beyond all\ncomparison the foremost. Among the women, I myself am so. Would that I\nwere bound unto this man, for my husband is numbered among wild\ncreatures since he is nothing but a bird.'\n\n\"Thus spake she, weeping, and the old woman replied as\nfollows:--'Speak ye no more words like unto these. Amongst the\nassembled women thou art in all things the foremost. But the rider\nupon the white horse is thine own husband. To-morrow is the\nthirteenth day of the feast. Come not to-morrow unto the feast, but\nremain at home behind the door until thine husband opens his\nbirdhouse, takes his steed from the stable, and rides to the feast.\nTake ye, then, the open birdhouse and burn it. And when thou hast done\nthis thy husband will remain henceforth and for ever in his true\nform.'\n\n\"The wife of the bird, thereupon, did as she had been told; and when\nthe birdhouse was opened, and her husband had departed, she took the\nbirdhouse and burnt it upon the hearth. When the sun bowed down\ntowards the west the bird returned home, and said to his wife, 'What,\nart thou already returned?' and she said, 'I am already returned.'\nThen said her husband, 'Where is my birdhouse?' And the wife replied,\n'I have burnt it.' And he said, 'Barama, that is a pretty\nbusiness--that birdhouse was my soul.'\n\n\"And his wife was troubled, and said, 'What is now to be done?' To\nthese words the bird replied, 'There is nothing can be done now,\nexcept you seat yourself behind the door, and there by day and night\nkeep clattering a sword. But if the clattering sword ceases, the\nTschadkurrs will carry me away. Seven days and seven nights must ye\nthus defend me from the Tschadkurrs and from the Tangari.'\n\n\"At these words the wife took the sword, propped open her eyelids\nwith little sticks, and watched for the space of six nights. On the\nseventh night her eyelids closed for an instant, but in that instant\nthe Tschadkurrs and Tangari suddenly snatched her husband away.\n\n\"Weeping bitterly, and despising all nourishment, the distracted wife\nran about everywhere, crying unceasingly, 'Alas, my bird-husband!\nAlas, my bird-husband!'\n\n\"When she had sought for him day and night without finding him, she\nheard from the top of a mountain the voice of her husband. Following\nthe sound, she discovered that the voice proceeded from the river. She\nran to the river, and then discovered her husband with a load of\ntattered boots upon his back. 'Oh! my heart is greatly rejoiced,' said\nthe husband, 'at seeing thee once more. I am forced to draw water for\nthe Tschadkurrs and the Tangari, and have worn out all these boots in\ndoing so. If thou wishest to have me once again, build me a new\nbirdhouse, and dedicate it to my soul; then I shall come back again.'\n\n\"With these words he vanished into the air. But the woman betook\nherself home to the house again, made a new birdhouse, and dedicated\nit to the soul of her husband. At length the bird-man appeared and\nperched himself on the roof of the house.\"\n\n\"Truly, his wife was an excellent wife!\" exclaimed the Son of the\nChan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood\njakzang!\" Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's seventh relation treats of the Bird-man.\n\n\nTHE PAINTER AND THE WOOD-CARVER.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan had, as on all the former occasions, spoken\nthe words of threatening, placed the dead one in the sack, and\njourneyed forth with him, Ssidi spake this time also as follows:--\"The\nday is long, and the distant journey will tire us: do you relate a\ntale unto me, or I will relate one unto you.\" But the Son of the Chan\nshook his head without saying a word, and Ssidi began as follows:--\n\n\"Many years ago there lived in the land of Gujassmunn a Chan, whose\nname was Gunisschang. This Chan, however, died, and his son Chamuk\nSakiktschi was elected Chan in his place. Now there lived among the\npeople of that country a painter and a wood-carver, who bore similar\nnames, and were evilly disposed towards each other.\n\n\"Once upon a time the painter, Gunga, drew nigh unto the Chan, and\nsaid unto him, 'Thy father hath been borne into the kingdom of the\nTangari, and hath said unto me, \"Come unto me!\" Thither I went, and\nfound thy father in great power and splendour; and I have brought for\nyou this letter from him.' With these words the painter delivered unto\nthe Chan a forged letter, the contents of which were as follows:--\n\n\"'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk Sakiktschi.\n\n\"'When I departed this life, I was borne to the kingdom of the\nTangari. An abundance of all things reigns in this land; but since I\nam desirous of erecting a pagoda, and there are no wood-carvers to be\nfound here, do you despatch unto me Cunga, the wood-carver. The means\nby which he is to reach this place he may learn from the painter.'\n\n\"After he had perused this letter, the Chan of Gujassmunn said, 'If my\nfather has really been carried into the realms of the Tangari, that\nwould indeed be a good thing. Call hither the wood-carver.' The\nwood-carver was called, and appeared before the Chan, and the Chan\nsaid unto him, 'My father has been carried into the realms of the\nTangari. He is desirous of erecting a pagoda, and because there are no\nwood-carvers there he is desirous that you should be despatched unto\nhim.'\n\n\"With these words the Chan displayed the forged letter, and when he\nhad read it, the wood-carver said unto himself, 'Of a surety Gunga,\nthe painter, has played me this trick; but I will try if I cannot\noverreach him.'\n\n\"Thus thinking, he inquired of the painter, 'By what means can I\nreach the kingdom of the Tangari?'\n\n\"To these words, the painter replied, 'When thou hast prepared all thy\ntools and implements of trade, then place thyself upon a pile of\nfagots, and when thou hast sung songs of rejoicing and set light to\nthe pile of fagots, thus wilt thou be able to reach the kingdom of the\nTangari.' Thus spake he, and the seventh night from that time was\nappointed for the carver's setting forth on his journey.\n\n\"When the wood-carver returned home unto his wife, he spake unto her\nthese words:--'The painter hath conceived wickedness in his mind\nagainst me; yet I shall try means to overreach him.'\n\n\"Accordingly he secretly contrived a subterranean passage, which\nreached from his own house into the middle of his field. Over the\naperture in the field he placed a large stone, covered the stone with\nearth, and when the seventh night was come, the Chan said, 'This night\nlet the wood-carver draw nigh unto the Chan, my father.' Thereupon,\nagreeably to the commands of the Chan, every one of the people brought\nout a handful of the fat of the Gunsa (a beast). A huge fire was\nkindled, and the wood-cutter, when he had sung the songs of rejoicing,\nescaped by the covered way he had made back to his own house.\n\n\"Meanwhile the painter was greatly rejoiced, and pointed upwards with\nhis finger, and said, 'There rideth the wood-carver up to heaven.'\nAll who had been present, too, betook themselves home, thinking in\ntheir hearts, 'The wood-carver is dead, and gone up above to the\nChan.'\n\n\"The wood-carver remained concealed at home a whole month, and allowed\nno man to set eyes upon him, but washed his head in milk every day,\nand kept himself always in the shade. After that he put on a garment\nof white silk, and wrote a letter, in which stood the following\nwords:--\n\n\"'This letter is addressed to my son Chamuk Sakiktschi. That thou\nrulest the kingdom in peace; it is very good. Since thy wood-carver\nhas completed his work, it is needful that he should be rewarded\naccording to his deserts. Since, moreover, for the decoration of the\npagoda, many coloured paintings are necessary, send unto me the\npainter, as thou hast already sent this man.'\n\n\"The wood-carver then drew nigh unto the Chan with this letter.\n'What!' cried the Chan, 'art thou returned from the kingdom of the\nTangari?' The wood-carver handed the letter unto him, and said, 'I\nhave, indeed, been in the kingdom of the Tangari, and from it I am\nreturned home again.'\n\n\"The Chan was greatly rejoiced when he heard this, and rewarded the\nwood-carver with costly presents. 'Because the painter is now\nrequired,' said the Chan, 'for the painting of the pagoda, let him now\nbe called before me.'\n\n\"The painter drew nigh accordingly, and when he saw the wood-carver,\nfair, and in white-shining robes, and decorated with gifts, he said\nunto himself, 'Then he is not dead!' And the Chan handed over to the\npainter the forged letter, with the seal thereto, and said, 'Thou must\ngo now.'\n\n\"And when the seventh night from that time arrived, the people came\nforward as before with a contribution of the fat of the Gunsa; and in\nthe midst of the field a pile of fagots was kindled. The painter\nseated himself in the midst of the fire, with his materials for\npainting, and a letter and gifts of honour for the Chan Gunisschang,\nand sang songs of rejoicing; and as the fire kept growing more and\nmore intolerable, he lifted up his voice and uttered piercing cries;\nbut the noise of the instruments overpowered his voice, and at length\nthe fire consumed him.\"\n\n\"He was properly rewarded!\" exclaimed the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood jakzang!\"\nThus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's eighth relation treats of the Painter and the\nWood-carver.\n\n\nTHE STEALING OF THE HEART.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan was, as formerly, carrying Ssidi away in the\nsack, Ssidi inquired of him as before; but the Son of the Chan shook\nhis head without speaking a word, so Ssidi proceeded as follows:--\n\n\"Many, many years ago there ruled over a certain kingdom a Chan named\nGuguluktschi. Upon the death of this Chan his son, who was of great\nreputation and worth, was elected Chan in his place.\n\n\"One berren (a measure of distance) from the residence of the Chan\ndwelt a man, who had a daughter of wonderful abilities and\nextraordinary beauty. The son of the Chan was enamoured of this\nmaiden, and visited her daily; until, at length, he fell sick of a\ngrievous malady, and died, without the maiden being made aware of it.\n\n\"One night, just as the moon was rising, the maiden heard a knocking\nat the door, and the face of the maiden was gladdened when she beheld\nthe son of the Chan; and the maiden arose and went to meet him, and\nshe led him in and placed arrack and cakes before him. 'Wife,' said\nthe son of the Chan, 'come with me!'\n\n\"The maiden followed, and they kept going further and further, until\nthey arrived at the dwelling of the Chan, from which proceeded the\nsound of cymbals and kettledrums.\n\n\"'Chan, what is this?' she asked. The son of the Chan replied to these\ninquiries of the maiden, 'Do you not know that they are now\ncelebrating the feast of my funeral?' Thus spake he; and the maiden\nreplied, 'The feast of thy funeral! Has anything then befallen the\nChan's son?' And the son of the Chan replied, 'He is departed. Thou\nwilt, however, bear a son unto him. And when the season is come, go\ninto the stable of the elephant, and let him be born there. In the\npalace there will arise a contention betwixt my mother and her\nattendants, because of the wonderful stone of the kingdom. The\nwonderful stone lies under the table of sacrifice. After it has been\ndiscovered, do you and my mother reign over this kingdom until such\ntime as my son comes of age.'\n\n\"Thus spake he, and vanished into air. But his beloved fell, from very\nanguish, into a swoon. 'Chan! Chan!' exclaimed she sorrowfully, when\nshe came to herself again. And because she felt that the time was\ncome, she betook herself to the stable of the elephants, and there\ngave birth to a son.\n\n\"On the following morning, when the keeper of the elephants entered\nthe stable, he exclaimed, 'What! has a woman given birth to a son in\nthe stable of the elephants? This never happened before. This may be\nan injury to the elephants.'\n\n\"At these words the maiden said, 'Go unto the mother of the Chan, and\nsay unto her, \"Arise! something wonderful has taken place.\"'\n\n\"When these words were told unto the mother of the Chan, then she\narose and went unto the stable, and the maiden related unto her all\nthat had happened, 'Wonderful!' said the mother of the Chan.\n'Otherwise the Chan had left no successors. Let us go together into\nthe house.'\n\n\"Thus speaking, she took the maiden with her into the house, and\nnursed her, and tended her carefully. And because her account of the\nwonderful stone was found correct, all the rest of her story was\nbelieved. So the mother of the Chan and his wife ruled over the\nkingdom.\n\n\"Henceforth, too, it happened that every month, on the night of the\nfull moon, the deceased Chan appeared to his wife, remained with her\nuntil morning dawned, and then vanished into air. And the wife\nrecounted this to his mother, but his mother believed her not, and\nsaid, 'This is a mere invention. If it were true my son would, of a\nsurety, show himself likewise unto me. If I am to believe your words,\nyou must take care that mother and son meet one another.'\n\n\"When the son of the Chan came on the night of the full moon, his wife\nsaid unto him, 'It is well that thou comest unto me on the night of\nevery full moon, but it were yet better if thou camest every night.'\nAnd as she spake thus, with tears in her eyes, the son of the Chan\nreplied, 'If thou hadst sufficient spirit to dare its accomplishment,\nthou mightest do what would bring me every night; but thou art young\nand cannot do it.' 'Then,' said she, 'if thou wilt but come every\nnight, I will do all that is required of me, although I should thereby\nlose both flesh and bone.'\n\n\"Thereupon the son of the Chan spake as follows: 'Then betake thyself\non the night of the full moon a berren from this place to the iron old\nman, and give unto him arrack. A little further you will come unto two\nrams, to them you must offer batschimak cakes. A little further on you\nwill perceive a host of men in coats of mail and other armour, and\nthere you must share out meat and cakes. From thence you must proceed\nto a large black building, stained with blood; the skin of a man\nfloats over it instead of a flag. Two aerliks (fiends) stand at the\nentrance. Present unto them both offerings of blood. Within the\nmansion thou wilt discover nine fearful exorcists, and nine hearts\nupon a throne. \"Take me! take me!\" will the eight old hearts exclaim;\nand the ninth heart will cry out, \"Do not take me!\" But leave the old\nhearts and take the fresh one, and run home with it without looking\nround.'\n\n\"Much as the maiden was alarmed at the task which she had been\nenjoined to perform, she set forth on the night of the next full moon,\ndivided the offerings, and entered the house. 'Take me not!' exclaimed\nthe fresh heart; but the maiden seized the fresh heart and fled with\nit. The exorcists fled after her, and cried out to those who were\nwatching, 'Stop the thief of the heart!' And the two aerliks (fiends)\ncried, 'We have received offerings of blood!' Then each of the armed\nmen cried out, 'Stop the thief!' But the rams said, 'We have received\nbatschimak cakes.' Then they called out to the iron old man, 'Stop the\nthief with the heart!' But the old man said, 'I have received arrack\nfrom her, and shall not stop her.'\n\n\"Thereupon the maiden journeyed on without fear until she reached\nhome; and she found upon entering the house the Chan's son, attired in\nfestive garments. And the Chan's son drew nigh, and threw his arms\nabout the neck of the maiden.\"\n\n\"The maiden behaved well indeed!\" exclaimed the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood jakzang.\"\nThus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's ninth relation treats of the Stealing of the Heart.\n\n\nTHE MAN AND HIS WIFE.\n\nWhen Ssidi had been captured as before, and was being carried away in\nthe sack, he inquired, as he had always done, as to telling a tale;\nbut the Son of the Chan shook his head without speaking a word.\nWhereupon Ssidi began the following relation:--\n\n\"Many, many years since, there lived in the kingdom of Olmilsong two\nbrothers, and they were both married. Now the elder brother and his\nwife were niggardly and envious, while the younger brother was of\nquite a different disposition.\n\n\"Once upon a time the elder brother, who had contrived to gather\ntogether abundance of riches, gave a great feast, and invited many\npeople to partake of it. When this was known, the younger thought to\nhimself, 'Although my elder brother has hitherto not treated me very\nwell, yet he will now, no doubt, since he has invited so many people\nto his feast, invite also me and my wife.' This he certainly expected,\nbut yet he was not invited. 'Probably,' thought he, 'my brother will\nsummon me to-morrow morning to the brandy-drinking.' Because, however,\nhe was not even invited unto that, he grieved very sore, and said unto\nhimself, 'This night, when my brother's wife has drunk the brandy, I\nwill go unto the house and steal somewhat.'\n\n\"When, however, he had glided into the treasure-chamber of his\nbrother, there lay the wife of his brother near her husband; but\npresently she arose and went into the kitchen, and cooked meat and\nsweet food, and went out of the door with it. The concealed one did\nnot venture at this moment to steal anything, but said unto himself,\n'Before I steal anything, I will just see what all this means.'\n\n\"So saying, he went forth and followed the woman to a mountain where\nthe dead were wont to be laid. On the top, upon a green mound, lay a\nbeautiful ornamental tomb over the body of a dead man. This man had\nformerly been the lover of the woman. Even when afar off she called\nunto the dead man by name, and when she had come unto him she threw\nher arms about his neck; and the younger brother was nigh unto her,\nand saw all that she did.\n\n\"The woman next handed the sweet food which she had prepared to the\ndead man, and because the teeth of the corse did not open, she\nseparated them with a pair of brazen pincers, and pushed the food into\nhis mouth. Suddenly the pincers bounced back from the teeth of the\ndead man, and snapped off the tip of the woman's nose; while, at the\nsame time, the teeth of the dead man closed together and bit off the\nend of the woman's tongue. Upon this the woman took up the dish with\nthe food and went back to her home.\n\n\"The younger brother thereupon followed her home, and concealed\nhimself in the treasure-chamber, and the wife laid herself down again\nby her husband. Presently the man began to move, when the wife\nimmediately cried out, 'Woe is me! woe is me! was there ever such a\nman?' And the man said, 'What is the matter now?' The wife replied,\n'The point of my tongue, and the tip of my nose, both these thou hast\nbitten off. What can a woman do without these two things? To-morrow\nthe Chan shall be made acquainted with this conduct.' Thus spake she,\nand the younger brother fled from the treasure-chamber without\nstealing anything.\n\n\"On the following morning the woman presented herself before the Chan,\nand addressed him, saying, 'My husband has this night treated me\nshamefully. Whatsoever punishment may be awarded to him, I myself will\nsee it inflicted.'\n\n\"But the husband persisted in asserting, 'Of all this I know nothing!'\nBecause the complaint of the wife seemed well-founded, and the man\ncould not exculpate himself, the Chan said, 'Because of his evil\ndeeds, let this man be burnt.'\n\n\"When the younger brother heard what had befallen the elder, he went\nto see him. And after the younger one had related to him all the\naffair, he betook himself unto the Chan, saying, 'That the evildoer\nmay be really discovered, let both the woman and her husband be\nsummoned before you; I will clear up the mystery.'\n\n\"When they were both present, the younger brother related the wife's\nvisit to the dead man, and because the Chan would not give credence\nunto his story, he said: 'In the mouth of the dead man you will find\nthe end of the woman's tongue; and the blood-soiled tip of her nose\nyou will find in the pincers of brass. Send thither, and see if it be\nnot so.'\n\n\"Thus spake he, and people were sent to the place, and confirmed all\nthat he had asserted. Upon this the Chan said, 'Since the matter\nstands thus, let the woman be placed upon the pile of fagots and\nconsumed with fire.' And the woman was placed upon the pile of fagots\nand consumed with fire.\"\n\n\"That served her right!\" said the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood jakzang!\"\nThus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's tenth relation treats of the Man and his Wife.\n\n\nOF THE MAIDEN SSUWARANDARI.\n\nWhen the Son of the Chan was carrying off Ssidi, as formerly, Ssidi\nrelated the following tale:--\n\n\"A long while ago, there was in the very centre of a certain kingdom\nan old pagoda, in which stood the image of Choschim Bodissadoh (a\nMongolian idol), formed of clay. Near unto this pagoda stood a small\nhouse, in which a beautiful maiden resided with her aged parents. But\nat the mouth of the river, which ran thereby, dwelt a poor man, who\nmaintained himself by selling fruit, which he carried in an ark upon\nthe river.\n\n\"Now it happened once, that as he was returning home he was benighted\nin the neighbourhood of the pagoda. He listened at the door of the\nhouse in which the two old people dwelt, and heard the old woman say\nunto her husband, 'We are both grown exceedingly old; could we now but\nprovide for our daughter, it would be well.'\n\n\"'That we have lived so long happily together,' said the old man, 'we\nare indebted to the talisman of our daughter. Let us, however, offer\nup sacrifice to Bodissadoh, and inquire of him to what condition we\nshall dedicate our daughter--to the spiritual or to the worldly.\nTo-morrow, at the earliest dawn, we will therefore lay our offering\nbefore the Burchan.'\n\n\"'Now know I what to do,' said the listener; so in the night-time he\nbetook himself to the pagoda, made an opening in the back of the idol,\nand concealed himself therein. When on the following morning the two\nold people and the daughter drew nigh and made their offering, the\nfather bowed himself to the earth and spake as follows:--\n\n\"'Deified Bodissadoh! shall this maiden be devoted to a spiritual or\nworldly life? If she is to be devoted to a worldly life, vouchsafe to\npoint out now or hereafter, in a dream or vision, to whom we shall\ngive her to wife.'\n\n\"Then he who was concealed in the image exclaimed, 'It is better that\nthy daughter be devoted to a worldly life. Therefore, give her to wife\nto the first man who presents himself at thy door in the morning.'\n\n\"The old people were greatly rejoiced when they heard these words; and\nthey bowed themselves again and again down to the earth, and walked\naround the idol.\n\n\"On the following morning the man stepped out of the idol and knocked\nat the door of the aged couple. The old woman went out, and when she\nsaw that it was a man, she turned back again, and said to her husband,\n'The words of the Burchan are fulfilled; the man has arrived.'\n\n\"'Give him entrance!' said the old man. The man came in accordingly,\nand was welcomed with food and drink; and when they had told him all\nthat the idol had said, he took the maiden with the talisman to wife.\n\n\"When he was wandering forth and drew nigh unto his dwelling, he\nthought unto himself, 'I have with cunning obtained the daughter of\nthe two old people. Now I will place the maiden in the ark, and\nconceal the ark in the sand.'\n\n\"So he concealed the ark, and went and said unto the people, 'Though I\nhave ever acted properly, still it has never availed me yet. I will\ntherefore now seek to obtain liberal gifts through my prayers.' Thus\nspake he, and after repeating the Zoka-prayers (part of the Calmuc\nritual), he obtained food and gifts, and said, 'To-morrow I will\nagain wander around, repeat the appointed Zoka-prayers, and seek food\nagain.'\n\n\"In the meanwhile it happened that the son of the Chan and two of his\ncompanions, with bows and arrows in their hands, who were following a\ntiger, passed by unnoticed, and arrived at the sand-heap of the maiden\nSsuwarandari. 'Let us shoot at that heap!' cried they. Thus spake\nthey, and shot accordingly, and lost their arrows in the sand. As they\nwere looking after the arrows, they found the ark, opened it, and drew\nout the maiden with the talisman.\n\n\"'Who art thou, maiden?' inquired they. 'I am the daughter of Lu.' The\nChan's son said, 'Come with me, and be my wife.' And the maiden said,\n'I cannot go unless another is placed in the ark instead of me.' So\nthey all said, 'Let us put in the tiger.' And when the tiger was\nplaced in the ark, the Chan's son took away with him the maiden, and\nthe talisman with her.\n\n\"In the meanwhile the beggar ended his prayers; and when he had done\nso, he thought unto himself, 'If I take the talisman, slay the maiden,\nand sell the talisman, of a surety I shall become rich indeed.' Thus\nthinking he drew nigh unto the sand-heap, drew forth the ark, carried\nit home with him, and said unto his wife, who he thought was within\nthe ark, 'I shall pass this night in repeating the Zoka-prayers.' He\nthrew off his upper garment. And when he had done so, he lifted off\nthe cover of the ark, and said, 'Maiden, be not alarmed!' When he was\nthus speaking, he beheld the tiger.\n\n\"When some persons went into the chamber on the following morning,\nthey found a tiger with his tusks and claws covered with blood, and\nthe body of the beggar torn into pieces.\n\n\"And the wife of the Chan gave birth to three sons, and lived in the\nenjoyment of plenty of all things. But the ministers and the people\nmurmured, and said, 'It was not well of the Chan that he drew forth\nhis wife out of the earth. Although the wife of the Chan has given\nbirth to the sons of the Chan, still she is but a low-born creature.'\nThus spoke they, and the wife of the Chan received little joy\ntherefrom. 'I have borne three sons,' said she, 'and yet am noways\nregarded; I will therefore return home to my parents.'\n\n\"She left the palace on the night of the full moon, and reached the\nneighbourhood of her parents at noontide. Where there had formerly\nbeen nothing to be seen she saw a multitude of workmen busily\nemployed, and among them a man having authority, who prepared meat and\ndrink for them. 'Who art thou, maiden?' inquired this man. 'I come far\nfrom hence,' replied the wife of the Chan; 'but my parents formerly\nresided upon this mountain, and I have come hither to seek them.'\n\n\"At these words the young man said, 'Thou art then their daughter?'\nand he received for answer, 'I am their daughter.'\n\n\"'I am their son,' said he. 'I have been told that I had a sister\nolder than myself. Art thou she? Sit thee down, partake of this meat\nand this drink, and we will then go together unto our parents.'\n\n\"When the wife of the Chan arrived at the summit of the mountain, she\nfound in the place where the old pagoda stood a number of splendid\nbuildings, with golden towers full of bells. And the hut of her\nparents was changed into a lordly mansion. 'All this,' said her\nbrother, 'belongs to us, since you took your departure. Our parents\nlived here in health and peace.'\n\n\"In the palace there were horses and mules, and costly furniture in\nabundance. The father and mother were seated on rich pillows of silk,\nand gave their daughter welcome, saying, 'Thou art still well and\nhappy. That thou hast returned home before we depart from this life is\nof a surety very good.'\n\n\"After various inquiries had been made on both sides, relative to what\nhad transpired during the separation of the parties, the old parents\nsaid, 'Let us make these things known unto the Chan and his\nministers.'\n\n\"So the Chan and his ministers were loaded with presents, and three\nnights afterwards they were welcomed with meat and drink of the best.\nBut the Chan said, 'Ye have spoken falsely, the wife of the Chan had\nno parents.' Now the Chan departed with his retinue, and his wife\nsaid, 'I will stop one more night with my parents, and then I will\nreturn unto you.'\n\n\"On the following morning the wife of the Chan found herself on a hard\nbed, without pillows or coverlets. 'What is this?' exclaimed she; 'was\nI not this night with my father and mother--and did I not retire to\nsleep on a bed of silk?'\n\n\"And when she rose up she beheld the ruined hut of her parents. Her\nfather and mother were dead, and their bones mouldered; their heads\nlay upon a stone. Weeping loudly, she said unto herself, 'I will now\nlook after the pagoda.' But she saw nothing but the ruins of the\npagoda and of the Burchan. 'A godly providence,' exclaimed she, 'has\nresuscitated my parents. Now since the Chan and the ministers will be\npacified, I will return home again.'\n\n\"On her arrival in the kingdom of her husband, the ministers and the\npeople came forth to meet her, and walked around her. 'This wife of\nthe Chan,' cried they, 'is descended from noble parents, has borne\nnoble sons, and is herself welcome, pleasant, and charming.' Thus\nspeaking, they accompanied the wife of the Chan to the palace.\"\n\n\"Her merits must have been great.\" Thus spake the Son of the Chan.\n\n\"Ruler of Destiny, thou hast spoken words! Ssarwala missdood\njakzang!\" Thus spake Ssidi, and burst from the sack through the air.\n\nThus Ssidi's eleventh relation treats of the Maiden Ssuwarandari.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TWO CATS.\n\n\nIn former days there was an old woman, who lived in a hut more\nconfined than the minds of the ignorant, and more dark than the tombs\nof misers. Her companion was a cat, from the mirror of whose\nimagination the appearance of bread had never been reflected, nor had\nshe from friends or strangers ever heard its name. It was enough that\nshe now and then scented a mouse, or observed the print of its feet on\nthe floor; when, blessed by favouring stars or benignant fortune, one\nfell into her claws--\n\n    \"She became like a beggar who discovers a treasure of gold;\n    Her cheeks glowed with rapture, and past grief was consumed\n            by present joy.\"\n\nThis feast would last for a week or more; and while enjoying it she\nwas wont to exclaim--\n\n    \"Am I, O God, when I contemplate this, in a dream or awake?\n    Am I to experience such prosperity after such adversity?\"\n\nBut as the dwelling of the old woman was in general the mansion of\nfamine to this cat, she was always complaining, and forming\nextravagant and fanciful schemes. One day, when reduced to extreme\nweakness, she, with much exertion, reached the top of the hut; when\nthere she observed a cat stalking on the wall of a neighbour's house,\nwhich, like a fierce tiger, advanced with measured steps, and was so\nloaded with flesh that she could hardly raise her feet. The old\nwoman's friend was amazed to see one of her own species so fat and\nsleek, and broke out into the following exclamation:--\n\n    \"Your stately strides have brought you here at last; pray tell\n            me from whence you come?\n    From whence have you arrived with so lovely an appearance?\n    You look as if from the banquet of the Khan of Khatai.\n    Where have you acquired such a comeliness? and how came you by\n            that glorious strength?\"\n\nThe other answered, \"I am the Sultan's crumb-eater. Each morning, when\nthey spread the convivial table, I attend at the palace, and there\nexhibit my address and courage. From among the rich meats and\nwheat-cakes I cull a few choice morsels; I then retire and pass my\ntime till next day in delightful indolence.\"\n\nThe old dame's cat requested to know what rich meat was, and what\ntaste wheat-cakes had? \"As for me,\" she added, in a melancholy tone,\n\"during my life I have neither eaten nor seen anything but the old\nwoman's gruel and the flesh of mice.\" The other, smiling, said, \"This\naccounts for the difficulty I find in distinguishing you from a\nspider. Your shape and stature is such as must make the whole\ngeneration of cats blush; and we must ever feel ashamed while you\ncarry so miserable an appearance abroad.\n\n    You certainly have the ears and tail of a cat,\n    But in other respects you are a complete spider.\n\nWere you to see the Sultan's palace, and to smell his delicious\nviands, most undoubtedly those withered bones would be restored; you\nwould receive new life; you would come from behind the curtain of\ninvisibility into the plane of observation--\n\n    When the perfume of his beloved passes over the tomb of a lover,\n    Is it wonderful that his putrid bones should be re-animated?\"\n\nThe old woman's cat addressed the other in the most supplicating\nmanner: \"O my sister!\" she exclaimed, \"have I not the sacred claims of\na neighbour upon you? are we not linked in the ties of kindred? What\nprevents your giving a proof of friendship, by taking me with you when\nnext you visit the palace? Perhaps from your favour plenty may flow to\nme, and from your patronage I may attain dignity and honour.\n\n    Withdraw not from the friendship of the honourable;\n    Abandon not the support of the elect.\"\n\nThe heart of the Sultan's crumb-eater was melted by this pathetic\naddress; she promised her new friend should accompany her on the next\nvisit to the palace. The latter, overjoyed, went down immediately from\nthe terrace, and communicated every particular to the old woman, who\naddressed her with the following counsel:--\n\n\"Be not deceived, my dearest friend, with the worldly language you\nhave listened to; abandon not your corner of content, for the cup of\nthe covetous is only to be filled by the dust of the grave, and the\neye of cupidity and hope can only be closed by the needle of mortality\nand the thread of fate.\n\n    It is content that makes men rich;\n    Mark this, ye avaricious, who traverse the world:\n    He neither knows nor pays adoration to his God\n    Who is dissatisfied with his condition and fortune.\"\n\nBut the expected feast had taken such possession of poor puss's\nimagination, that the medicinal counsel of the old woman was thrown\naway.\n\n    \"The good advice of all the world is like wind in a cage,\n    Or water in a sieve, when bestowed on the headstrong.\"\n\nTo conclude: next day, accompanied by her companion, the half-starved\ncat hobbled to the Sultan's palace. Before this unfortunate wretch\ncame, as it is decreed that the covetous shall be disappointed, an\nextraordinary event had occurred, and, owing to her evil destiny, the\nwater of disappointment was poured on the flame of her immature\nambition. The case was this: a whole legion of cats had the day\nbefore surrounded the feast, and made so much noise that they\ndisturbed the guests; and in consequence the Sultan had ordered that\nsome archers armed with bows from Tartary should, on this day, be\nconcealed, and that whatever cat advanced into the field of valour,\ncovered with the shield of audacity, should, on eating the first\nmorsel, be overtaken with their arrows. The old dame's puss was not\naware of this order. The moment the flavour of the viands reached her,\nshe flew like an eagle to the place of her prey.\n\nScarcely had the weight of a mouthful been placed in the scale to\nbalance her hunger, when a heart-dividing arrow pierced her breast.\n\n    A stream of blood rushed from the wound.\n    She fled, in dread of death, after having exclaimed,\n    \"Should I escape from this terrific archer,\n    I will be satisfied with my mouse and the miserable hut\n            of my old mistress.\n    My soul rejects the honey if accompanied by the sting.\n    Content, with the most frugal fare, is preferable.\"\n\n\n\n\nLEGEND OF DHURRUMNATH.\n\n\nDuring the reign of a mighty rajah named Guddeh Sing, a celebrated,\nand as it is now supposed, deified priest, or hutteet, called\nDhurrumnath, came, and in all the characteristic humility of his sect\nestablished a primitive and temporary resting-place within a few miles\nof the rajah's residence at Runn, near Mandavie. He was accompanied by\nhis adopted son, Ghurreeb Nath.\n\nFrom this spot Dhurrumnath despatched his son to seek for charitable\ncontributions from the inhabitants of the town. To this end Ghurreeb\nNath made several visits; but being unsuccessful, and at the same time\nunwilling that his father should know of the want of liberality in the\ncity, he at each visit purchased food out of some limited funds of his\nown. At length, his little hoard failing, on the sixth day he was\nobliged to confess the deceit he had practised.\n\nDhurrumnath, on being acquainted with this, became extremely vexed,\nand vowed that from that day all the rajah's putteen cities should\nbecome desolate and ruined. The tradition goes on to state that in\ndue time these cities were destroyed; Dhurrumnath, accompanied by his\nson, left the neighbourhood, and proceeded to Denodur. Finding it a\ndesirable place, he determined on performing Tupseeah, or penance, for\ntwelve years, and chose the form of standing on his head.\n\nOn commencing to carry out this determination, he dismissed his son,\nwho established his Doonee in the jungles, about twenty miles to the\nnorth-west of Bhooj. After Dhurrumnath had remained Tupseeah for\ntwelve years, he was visited by all the angels from heaven, who\nbesought him to rise; to which he replied, that if he did so, the\nportion of the country on which his sight would first rest would\nbecome barren: if villages, they would disappear; if woods or fields,\nthey would equally be destroyed. The angels then told him to turn his\nhead to the north-east, where flowed the sea. Upon this he resumed his\nnatural position, and, turning his head in the direction he was told,\nopened his eyes, when immediately the sea disappeared, the stately\nships became wrecks, and their crews were destroyed, leaving nothing\nbehind but a barren, unbroken desert, known as the Runn.\n\nDhurrumnath, too pure to remain on the earth, partook of an immediate\nand glorious immortality, being at once absorbed into the spiritual\nnature of the creating, the finishing, the indivisible, all-pervading\nBrum.\n\nThis self-imposed penance of Dhurrumnath has shed a halo of sanctity\naround the hill of Denodur, and was doubtless the occasion of its\nhaving been selected as a fitting site for a Jogie establishment, the\nmembers of which, it is probable, were originally the attendants on a\nsmall temple that had been erected, and which still remains, on the\nhighest point of the hill, on the spot where the holy Dhurrumnath is\nsaid to have performed his painful Tupseeah.\n\n\n\n\nTHE TRAVELLER'S ADVENTURE.\n\n\nIt is related that a man, mounted upon a camel, in the course of\ntravelling arrived at a place where others from the same caravan had\nlighted a fire before proceeding on their journey. The fan-like wind,\nbreathing on the embers, had produced a flame; and the sparks, flying\nover the jungle, the dry wood had become ignited, and the whole plain\nglowed like a bed of tulips.\n\nIn the midst of this was an enormous snake, which, encircled by the\nflames, possessed no means of escape, and was about to be broiled like\na fish, or kabobed like a partridge for the table. Blood oozed from\nits poison-charged eyes; and, seeing the man and the camel, it thus\nsupplicated for assistance--\n\n    \"What if in kindness thou vouchsafe me thy pity;\n    Loosen the knot with which my affairs are entangled.\"\n\nNow the traveller was a good man, and one who feared God. When he\nheard the complaint of the snake, and saw its pitiable condition, he\nreasoned thus with himself: \"This snake is, indeed, the enemy of man,\nbut being in trouble and perplexity, it would be most commendable in\nme to drop the seed of compassion, the fruit of which is prosperity in\nthis world, and exaltation in the next.\" Thus convinced, he fastened\none of his saddle-bags to the end of his spear, and extended it to the\nsnake, which, delighted at escape, entered the bag, and was rescued\nfrom the flames. The man then opening the mouth of the bag, addressed\nit thus: \"Depart whither thou wilt, but forget not to offer up\nthanksgiving for thy preservation; henceforth seek the corner of\nretirement, and cease to afflict mankind, for they who do so are\ndishonest in this world and the next--\n\n    Fear God--distress no one;\n    This indeed is true salvation.\"\n\nThe snake replied, \"O young man, hold thy peace, for truly I will not\ndepart until I have wounded both thee and this camel.\"\n\nThe man cried out, \"But how is this? Have I not rendered thee a\nbenefit? Why, then, is such to be my recompense?\n\n    On my part there was faithfulness,\n    Why then this injustice upon thine?\"\n\nThe snake said, \"True, thou hast shown mercy, but it was to an\nunworthy object; thou knowest me to be an agent of injury to mankind,\nconsequently, when thou savedst me from destruction, thou subjectedst\nthyself to the same rule that applies to the punishment due for an\nevil act committed against a worthy object.\n\n\"Again, between the snake and man there is a long-standing enmity, and\nthey who employ foresight hold it as a maxim of wisdom to bruise the\nhead of an enemy; to thy security my destruction was necessary, but,\nin showing mercy, thou hast forfeited vigilance. It is now necessary\nthat I should wound thee, that others may learn by thy example.\"\n\nThe man cried, \"O snake, call but in the counsel of justice; in what\ncreed is it written, or what practice declares, that evil should be\nreturned for good, or that the pleasure of conferring benefits should\nbe returned by injury and affliction?\"\n\nThe snake replied, \"Such is the practice amongst men. I act according\nto thy own decree; the same commodity of retribution I have purchased\nfrom thee I also sell.\n\n    Buy for one moment that which thou sell'st for years.\"\n\nIn vain did the traveller entreat, the snake ever replying, \"I do but\ntreat thee after the manner of men.\" This the man denied. \"But,\" said\nhe, \"let us call witnesses: if thou prove thy assertion, I will yield\nto thy will.\" The snake, looking round, saw a cow grazing at a\ndistance, and said, \"Come, we will ask this cow the rights of the\nquestion.\" When they came up to the cow, the snake, opening its\nmouth, said, \"O cow, what is the recompense for benefits received?\"\n\nThe cow said, \"If thou ask me after the manner of men, the return of\ngood is always evil. For instance, I was for a long time in the\nservice of a farmer; yearly I brought forth a calf; I supplied his\nhouse with milk and ghee; his sustenance, and the life of his\nchildren, depended upon me. When I became old, and no longer produced\nyoung, he ceased to shelter me, and thrust me forth to die in a\njungle. After finding forage, and roaming at my ease, I grew fat, and\nmy old master, seeing my plump condition, yesterday brought with him a\nbutcher, to whom he has sold me, and to-day is appointed for my\nslaughter.\"\n\nThe snake said, \"Thou hast heard the cow; prepare to die quickly.\" The\nman cried, \"It is not lawful to decide a case on the evidence of one\nwitness, let us then call another.\" The snake looked about and saw a\ntree, leafless and bare, flinging up its wild branches to the sky.\n\"Let us,\" said it, \"appeal to this tree.\" They proceeded together to\nthe tree; and the snake, opening its mouth, said, \"O tree, what is the\nrecompense for good?\"\n\nThe tree said, \"Amongst men, for benefits are returned evil and\ninjury. I will give you a proof of what I assert. I am a tree which,\nthough growing on one leg in this sad waste, was once flourishing and\ngreen, performing service to every one. When any of the human race,\novercome with heat and travel, came this way, they rested beneath my\nshade, and slept beneath my branches; when the weight of repose\nabandoned their eyelids, they cast up their eyes to me, and said to\neach other, 'Yon twig would do well for an arrow; that branch would\nserve for a plough; and from the trunk of this tree what beautiful\nplanks might be made!' If they had an axe or a saw, they selected my\nbranches, and carried them away. Thus they to whom I gave ease and\nrest rewarded me only with pain and affliction.\n\n    Whilst my care overshadows him in perplexity,\n    He meditates only how best to root me up.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said the snake, \"here are two witnesses; therefore, form thy\nresolution, for I must wound thee.\" The man said, \"True; but the love\nof life is powerful, and while strength remains, it is difficult to\nroot the love of it from the heart. Call but one more witness, and\nthen I pledge myself to submit to his decree.\" Now it so wonderfully\nhappened that a fox, who had been standing by, had heard all the\nargument, and now came forward. The snake on seeing it exclaimed,\n\"Behold this fox, let us ask it.\" But before the man could speak the\nfox cried out, \"Dost thou not know that the recompense for good is\nalways evil? But what good hast thou done in behalf of this snake, to\nrender thee worthy of punishment?\" The man related his story. The fox\nreplied, \"Thou seemest an intelligent person, why then dost thou tell\nme an untruth?\n\n    How can it be proper for him that is wise to speak falsely?\n    How can it become an intelligent man to state an untruth?\"\n\nThe snake said, \"The man speaks truly, for behold the bag in which he\nrescued me.\" The fox, putting on the garb of astonishment, said, \"How\ncan I believe this thing? How could a large snake such as thou be\ncontained in so small a space?\" The snake said, \"If thou doubt me, I\nwill again enter the bag to prove it.\" The fox said, \"Truly if I saw\nthee there, I could believe it, and afterwards settle the dispute\nbetween thee and this man.\" On this the traveller opened the bag, and\nthe snake, annoyed at the disbelief of the fox, entered it; which\nobserving, the fox cried out, \"O young man, when thou hast caught\nthine enemy, show him no quarter.\n\n    When an enemy is vanquished, and in thy power,\n    It is the maxim of the wise to show him no mercy.\"\n\nThe traveller took the hint of the fox, fastened the mouth of the bag,\nand, dashing it against a stone, destroyed the snake, and thus saved\nmankind from the evil effects of its wicked propensities.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SEVEN STAGES OF ROOSTEM.\n\n\nPersia was at peace, and prosperous; but its king, Ky-Kaoos, could\nnever remain at rest. A favourite singer gave him one day an animated\naccount of the beauties of the neighbouring kingdom of Mazenderan: its\never-blooming roses, its melodious nightingales, its verdant plains,\nits mountains shaded with lofty trees, and adorned to their summits\nwith flowers which perfumed the air, its clear murmuring rivulets,\nand, above all, its lovely damsels and valiant warriors.\n\nAll these were described to the sovereign in such glowing colours that\nhe quite lost his reason, and declared he should never be happy till\nhis power extended over a country so favoured by Nature. It was in\nvain that his wisest ministers and most attached nobles dissuaded him\nfrom so hazardous an enterprise as that of invading a region which\nhad, besides other defenders, a number of Deevs, or demons, who,\nacting under their renowned chief, Deev-e-Seffeed, or the White Demon,\nhad hitherto defeated all enemies.\n\nKy-Kaoos would not listen to his nobles, who in despair sent for old\nZal, the father of Roostem, and prince of Seestan. Zal came, and used\nall his efforts, but in vain; the monarch was involved in clouds of\npride, and closed a discussion he had with Zal by exclaiming, \"The\nCreator of the world is my friend; the chief of the Deevs is my prey.\"\nThis impious boasting satisfied Zal he could do no good; and he even\nrefused to become regent of Persia in the absence of Ky-Kaoos, but\npromised to aid with his counsel.\n\nThe king departed to anticipated conquest; but the prince of\nMazenderan summoned his forces, and, above all, the Deev-e-Seffeed and\nhis band. They came at his call: a great battle ensued, in which the\nPersians were completely defeated. Ky-Kaoos was made prisoner, and\nconfined in a strong fortress under the guard of a hundred Deevs,\ncommanded by Arjeng, who was instructed to ask the Persian monarch\nevery morning how he liked the roses, nightingales, flowers, trees,\nverdant meadows, shady mountains, clear streams, beautiful damsels,\nand valiant warriors of Mazenderan.\n\nThe news of this disaster soon spread over Persia, and notwithstanding\nthe disgust of old Zal at the headstrong folly of his monarch, he was\ndeeply afflicted at the tale of his misfortune and disgrace. He sent\nfor Roostem, to whom he said, \"Go, my son, and with thy single arm,\nand thy good horse, Reksh, release our sovereign.\" Roostem instantly\nobeyed. There were two roads, but he chose the nearest, though it was\nreported to be by far the most difficult and dangerous.\n\nFatigued with his first day's journey, Roostem lay down to sleep,\nhaving turned Reksh loose to graze in a neighbouring meadow, where he\nwas attacked by a furious lion; but this wonderful horse, after a\nshort contest, struck his antagonist to the ground with a blow from\nhis fore-hoof, and completed the victory by seizing the throat of the\nroyal animal with his teeth. When Roostem awoke, he was surprised and\nenraged. He desired Reksh never again to attempt, unaided, such an\nencounter. \"Hadst thou been slain,\" asked he of the intelligent brute,\n\"how should I have accomplished my enterprise?\"\n\nAt the second stage Roostem had nearly died of thirst, but his prayers\nto the Almighty were heard. A fawn appeared, as if to be his guide;\nand following it, he was conducted to a clear fountain, where, after\nregaling on the flesh of a wild ass, which he had killed with his bow,\nhe lay down to sleep. In the middle of the night a monstrous serpent,\nseventy yards in length, came out of its hiding-place, and made at the\nhero, who was awaked by the neighing of Reksh; but the serpent had\ncrept back to its hiding-place, and Roostem, seeing no danger, abused\nhis faithful horse for disturbing his repose. Another attempt of the\nserpent was defeated in the same way; but as the monster had again\nconcealed itself, Roostem lost all patience with Reksh, whom he\nthreatened to put to death if he again awaked him by any such\nunseasonable noises. The faithful steed, fearing his master's rage,\nbut strong in his attachment, instead of neighing when the serpent\nagain made his appearance, sprang upon it, and commenced a furious\ncontest. Roostem, hearing the noise, started up and joined in the\ncombat. The serpent darted at him, but he avoided it, and, while his\nnoble horse seized their enemy by the back, the hero cut off its head\nwith his sword.\n\nWhen the serpent was slain, Roostem contemplated its enormous size\nwith amazement, and, with that piety which always distinguished him,\nreturned thanks to the Almighty for his miraculous escape.\n\nNext day, as Roostem sat by a fountain, he saw a beautiful damsel\nregaling herself with wine. He approached her, accepted her invitation\nto partake of the beverage, and clasped her in his arms as if she had\nbeen an angel. It happened, in the course of their conversation, that\nthe Persian hero mentioned the name of the great God he adored. At the\nsound of that sacred word the fair features and shape of the female\nchanged, and she became black, ugly, and deformed. The astonished\nRoostem seized her, and after binding her hands, bid her declare who\nshe was. \"I am a sorceress,\" was the reply, \"and have been employed\nby the evil spirit Aharman for thy destruction; but save my life, and\nI am powerful to do thee service.\" \"I make no compact with the devil\nor his agents,\" said the hero, and cut her in twain. He again poured\nforth his soul in thanksgiving to God for his deliverance.\n\nOn his fourth stage Roostem lost his way. While wandering about he\ncame to a clear rivulet, on the banks of which he lay down to take\nsome repose, having first turned Reksh loose into a field of grain. A\ngardener who had charge of it came and awoke the hero, telling him in\nan insolent tone that he would soon suffer for his temerity, as the\nfield in which his horse was feeding belonged to a pehloovan, or\nwarrior, called Oulad. Roostem, always irascible, but particularly so\nwhen disturbed in his slumbers, jumped up, tore off the gardener's\nears, and gave him a blow with his fist that broke his nose and teeth.\n\"Take these marks of my temper to your master,\" he said, \"and tell him\nto come here, and he shall have a similar welcome.\"\n\nOulad, when informed of what had passed, was excited to fury, and\nprepared to assail the Persian hero, who, expecting him, had put on\nhis armour and mounted Reksh. His appearance so dismayed Oulad that he\ndared not venture on the combat till he had summoned his adherents.\nThey all fell upon Roostem at once; but the base-born caitiffs were\nscattered like chaff before the wind; many were slain, others fled,\namong whom was their chief. Him Roostem came up with at the fifth\nstage, and having thrown his noose over him, took him prisoner. Oulad,\nin order to save his life, not only gave him full information of the\nplace where his sovereign was confined, and of the strength of the\nDeev-e-Seffeed, but offered to give the hero every aid in the\naccomplishment of his perilous enterprise. This offer was accepted,\nand he proved a most useful auxiliary.\n\nOn the sixth day they saw in the distance the city of Mazenderan, near\nwhich the Deev-e-Seffeed resided. Two chieftains, with numerous\nattendants, met them; and one had the audacity to ride up to Roostem,\nand seize him by the belt. That chief's fury at this insolence was\nunbounded; he disdained, however, to use his arms against such an\nenemy, but, seizing the miscreant's head, wrenched it from the body,\nand hurled it at his companions, who fled in terror and dismay at this\nterrible proof of the hero's prowess.\n\nRoostem proceeded, after this action, with his guide to the castle\nwhere the king was confined. The Deevs who guarded it were asleep, and\nKy-Kaoos was found in a solitary cell, chained to the ground. He\nrecognised Roostem, and bursting into tears, pressed his deliverer to\nhis bosom. Roostem immediately began to knock off his chains. The\nnoise occasioned by this awoke the Deevs, whose leader, Beedar-Reng,\nadvanced to seize Roostem; but the appearance and threats of the\nlatter so overawed him that he consented to purchase his own safety by\nthe instant release of the Persian king and all his followers.\n\nAfter this achievement Roostem proceeded to the last and greatest of\nhis labours, the attack of the Deev-e-Seffeed. Oulad told him that the\nDeevs watched and feasted during the night, but slept during the heat\nof the day, hating (according to our narrator) the sunbeams. Roostem,\nas he advanced, saw an immense army drawn out; he thought it better,\nbefore he attacked them, to refresh himself by some repose. Having\nlaid himself down, he soon fell into a sound sleep, and at daylight he\nawoke quite refreshed. As soon as the sun became warm, he rushed into\nthe camp. The heavy blows of his mace soon awoke the surprised and\nslumbering guards of the Deev-e-Seffeed; they collected in myriads,\nhoping to impede his progress, but all in vain. The rout became\ngeneral, and none escaped but those who fled from the field of battle.\n\nWhen this army was dispersed, Roostem went in search of the\nDeev-e-Seffeed, who, ignorant of the fate of his followers, slumbered\nin the recess of a cavern, the entrance to which looked so dark and\ngloomy that the Persian hero hesitated whether he should advance; but\nthe noise of his approach had roused his enemy, who came forth,\nclothed in complete armour. His appearance was terrible; but Roostem,\nrecommending his soul to God, struck a desperate blow, which separated\nthe leg of the Deev from his body. This would on common occasions have\nterminated the contest, but far different was the result on the\npresent. Irritated to madness by the loss of a limb, the monster\nseized his enemy in his arms, and endeavoured to throw him down. The\nstruggle was for some time doubtful; but Roostem, collecting all his\nstrength, by a wondrous effort dashed his foe to the ground, and\nseizing him by one of the horns, unsheathed his dagger and stabbed him\nto the heart. The Deev-e-Seffeed instantly expired; and Roostem, on\nlooking round to the entrance of the cavern, from whence the moment\nbefore he had seen numberless Deevs issuing to the aid of their lord,\nperceived they were all dead. Oulad, who stood at a prudent distance\nfrom the scene of combat, now advanced and informed the hero that the\nlives of all the Deevs depended upon that of their chief. When he was\nslain, the spell which created and preserved this band was broken, and\nthey all expired.\n\nRoostem found little difficulty after these seven days of toil, of\ndanger, and of glory, in compelling Mazenderan to submit to Persia.\nThe king of the country was slain, and Oulad was appointed its\ngovernor as a reward for his fidelity.\n\nThe success of his arms had raised Ky-Kaoos to the very plenitude of\npower; not only men, but Deevs, obeyed his mandates. The latter he\nemployed in building palaces of crystal, emeralds, and rubies, till at\nlast they became quite tired of their toil and abject condition. They\nsought, therefore, to destroy him; and to effect this they consulted\nwith the devil, who, to forward the object, instructed a Deev, called\nDizjkheem, to go to Ky-Kaoos and raise in his mind a passion for\nastronomy, and to promise him a nearer view of the celestial bodies\nthan had ever yet been enjoyed by mortal eyes. The Deev fulfilled his\ncommission with such success that the king became quite wild with a\ndesire to attain perfection in this sublime science. The devil then\ninstructed Dizjkheem to train some young vultures to carry a throne\nupwards; this was done by placing spears round the throne, on the\npoints of which pieces of flesh were fixed in view of the vultures,\nwho were fastened at the bottom. These voracious birds, in their\nefforts to reach the meat, raised the throne.\n\nThough he mounted rapidly for a short time, the vultures became\nexhausted, and finding their efforts to reach the meat hopeless,\ndiscontinued them; this altered the direction and equilibrium of the\nmachine, and it tossed to and fro. Ky-Kaoos would have been cast\nheadlong and killed had he not clung to it. The vultures, not being\nable to disengage themselves, flew an immense way, and at last landed\nthe affrighted monarch in one of the woods of China. Armies marched in\nevery direction to discover and release the sovereign, who, it was\nbelieved, had again fallen into the hands of Deevs. He was at last\nfound and restored to his capital. Roostem, we are told, upbraided his\nfolly, saying--\n\n    \"Have you managed your affairs so well on earth\n    That you must needs try your hand in those of heaven?\"\n\n\n\n\nTHE MAN WHO NEVER LAUGHED.\n\n\nThere was a man, of those possessed of houses and riches, who had\nwealth and servants and slaves and other possessions; and he departed\nfrom the world to receive the mercy of God (whose name be exalted!),\nleaving a young son. And when the son grew up, he took to eating and\ndrinking, and the hearing of instruments of music and songs, and was\nliberal and gave gifts, and expended the riches that his father had\nleft to him until all the wealth had gone. He then betook himself to\nthe sale of the male black slaves, and the female slaves, and other\npossessions, and expended all that he had of his father's wealth and\nother things, and became so poor that he worked with the labourers. In\nthis state he remained for a period of years. While he was sitting one\nday beneath a wall, waiting to see who would hire him, lo! a man of\ncomely countenance and apparel drew near to him and saluted him. So\nthe youth said to him, \"O uncle, hast thou known me before now?\" The\nman answered him, \"I have not known thee, O my son, at all; but I see\nthe traces of affluence upon thee, though thou art in this condition.\"\nThe young man replied, \"O uncle, what fate and destiny have ordained\nhath come to pass. But hast thou, O uncle, O comely-faced, any\nbusiness in which to employ me?\" The man said to him, \"O my son, I\ndesire to employ thee in an easy business.\" The youth asked, \"And what\nis it, O uncle?\" And the man answered him, \"I have with me ten sheykhs\nin one abode, and we have no one to perform our wants. Thou shalt\nreceive from us, of food and clothing, what will suffice thee, and\nshalt serve us, and thou shalt receive of us thy portion of benefits\nand money. Perhaps, also, God will restore to thee thine affluence by\nour means.\" The youth therefore replied, \"I hear and obey.\" The sheykh\nthen said to him, \"I have a condition to impose upon thee.\" \"And what\nis thy condition, O uncle?\" asked the youth. He answered him, \"O my\nson, it is that thou keep our secret with respect to the things that\nthou shalt see us do; and when thou seest us weep, that thou ask us\nnot respecting the cause of our weeping.\" And the young man replied,\n\"Well, O uncle.\"\n\nSo the sheykh said to him, \"O my son, come with us, relying on the\nblessing of God (whose name be exalted!).\" And the young man followed\nthe sheykh until the latter conducted him to the bath; after which he\nsent a man, who brought him a comely garment of linen, and he clad\nhim with it, and went with him to his abode and his associates. And\nwhen the young man entered, he found it to be a high mansion, with\nlofty angles, ample, with chambers facing one another, and saloons;\nand in each saloon was a fountain of water, and birds were warbling\nover it, and there were windows overlooking, on every side, a\nbeautiful garden within the mansion. The sheykh conducted him into one\nof the chambers, and he found it decorated with coloured marbles, and\nits ceiling ornamented with blue and brilliant gold, and it was spread\nwith carpets of silk; and he found in it ten sheykhs sitting facing\none another, wearing the garments of mourning, weeping, and wailing.\nSo the young man wondered at their case, and was about to question the\nsheykh who had brought him, but he remembered the condition, and\ntherefore withheld his tongue. Then the sheykh committed to the young\nman a chest, containing thirty thousand pieces of gold, saying to him,\n\"O my son, expend upon us out of this chest, and upon thyself,\naccording to what is just, and be thou faithful, and take care of that\nwherewith I have intrusted thee.\" And the young man replied, \"I hear\nand obey.\" He continued to expend upon them for a period of days and\nnights, after which one of them died; whereupon his companions took\nhim, and washed him and shrouded him, and buried him in a garden\nbehind the mansion. And death ceased not to take of them one after\nanother, until there remained only the sheykh who had hired the young\nman. So he remained with the young man in that mansion, and there was\nnot with them a third; and they remained thus for a period of years.\nThen the sheykh fell sick; and when the young man despaired of his\nlife, he addressed him with courtesy, and was grieved for him, and\nsaid to him, \"O uncle, I have served you, and not failed in your\nservice one hour for a period of twelve years, but have acted\nfaithfully to you, and served you according to my power and ability.\"\nThe sheykh replied, \"Yes, O my son, thou hast served us until these\nsheykhs have been taken unto God (to whom be ascribed might and\nglory!), and we must inevitably die.\" And the young man said, \"O my\nmaster, thou art in a state of peril, and I desire of thee that thou\ninform me what hath been the cause of your weeping, and the\ncontinuance of your wailing and your mourning and your sorrow.\" He\nreplied, \"O my son, thou hast no concern with that, and require me not\nto do what I am unable; for I have begged God (whose name be exalted!)\nnot to afflict any one with my affliction. Now if thou desire to be\nsafe from that into which we have fallen, open not that door,\" and he\npointed to it with his hand, and cautioned him against it; \"and if\nthou desire that what hath befallen us should befall thee, open it,\nand thou wilt know the cause of that which thou hast beheld in our\nconduct; but thou wilt repent, when repentance will not avail thee.\"\nThen the illness increased upon the sheykh, and he died; and the young\nman washed him with his own hands, and shrouded him, and buried him by\nhis companions.\n\nHe remained in that place, possessing it and all the treasure; but\nnotwithstanding this, he was uneasy, reflecting upon the conduct of\nthe sheykhs. And while he was meditating one day upon the words of the\nsheykh, and his charge to him not to open the door, it occurred to his\nmind that he might look at it. So he went in that direction, and\nsearched until he saw an elegant door, over which the spider had woven\nits webs, and upon it were four locks of steel. When he beheld it, he\nremembered how the sheykh had cautioned him, and he departed from it.\nHis soul desired him to open the door, and he restrained it during a\nperiod of seven days; but on the eighth day his soul overcame him, and\nhe said, \"I must open that door, and see what will happen to me in\nconsequence; for nothing will repel what God (whose name be exalted!)\ndecreeth and predestineth, and no event will happen but by His will.\"\nAccordingly he arose and opened the door, after he had broken the\nlocks. And when he had opened the door he saw a narrow passage, along\nwhich he walked for the space of three hours; and lo! he came forth\nupon the bank of a great river. At this the young man wondered. And\nhe walked along the bank, looking to the right and left; and behold! a\ngreat eagle descended from the sky, and taking up the young man with\nits talons, it flew with him, between heaven and earth, until it\nconveyed him to an island in the midst of the sea. There it threw him\ndown, and departed from him.\n\nSo the young man was perplexed at his case, not knowing whither to go;\nbut while he was sitting one day, lo! the sail of a vessel appeared to\nhim upon the sea, like the star in the sky; wherefore the heart of the\nyoung man became intent upon the vessel, in the hope that his escape\nmight be effected in it. He continued looking at it until it came near\nunto him; and when it arrived, he beheld a bark of ivory and ebony,\nthe oars of which were of sandal-wood and aloes-wood, and the whole of\nit was encased with plates of brilliant gold. There were also in it\nten damsels, virgins, like moons. When the damsels saw him, they\nlanded to him from the bark, and kissed his hands, saying to him,\n\"Thou art the king, the bridegroom.\" Then there advanced to him a\ndamsel who was like the shining sun in the clear sky, having in her\nhand a kerchief of silk, in which were a royal robe, and a crown of\ngold set with varieties of jacinths. Having advanced to him, she clad\nhim and crowned him; after which the damsels carried him in their\narms to the bark, and he found in it varieties of carpets of silk of\ndivers colours. They then spread the sails, and proceeded over the\ndepths of the sea.\n\n\"Now when I proceeded with them,\" says the young man, \"I felt sure\nthat this was a dream, and knew not whither they were going with me.\nAnd when they came in sight of the land, I beheld it filled with\ntroops, the number of which none knew but God (whose perfection be\nextolled, and whose name be exalted!) clad in coats of mail. They\nbrought forward to me five marked horses, with saddles of gold, set\nwith varieties of pearls and precious stones; and I took a horse from\namong these and mounted it. The four others proceeded with me; and\nwhen I mounted, the ensigns and banners were set up over my head, the\ndrums and the cymbals were beaten, and the troops disposed themselves\nin two divisions, right and left. I wavered in opinion as to whether I\nwere asleep or awake, and ceased not to advance, not believing in the\nreality of my stately procession, but imagining that it was the result\nof confused dreams, until we came in sight of a verdant meadow, in\nwhich were palaces and gardens, and trees and rivers and flowers, and\nbirds proclaiming the perfection of God, the One, the Omnipotent. And\nnow there came forth an army from among those palaces and gardens,\nlike the torrent when it poureth down, until it filled the meadow.\nWhen the troops drew near to me, they hailed, and lo! a king advanced\nfrom among them, riding alone, preceded by some of his chief officers\nwalking.\"\n\nThe king, on approaching the young man, alighted from his courser; and\nthe young man, seeing him do so, alighted also; and they saluted each\nother with the most courteous salutation. Then they mounted their\nhorses again, and the king said to the young man, \"Accompany us; for\nthou art my guest.\" So the young man proceeded with him, and they\nconversed together, while the stately trains in orderly disposition\nwent on before them to the palace of the king, where they alighted,\nand all of them entered, together with the king and the young man, the\nyoung man's hand being in the hand of the king, who thereupon seated\nhim on the throne of gold and seated himself beside him. When the king\nremoved the litham from his face, lo! this supposed king was a damsel,\nlike the shining sun in the clear sky, a lady of beauty and\nloveliness, and elegance and perfection, and conceit and amorous\ndissimulation. The young man beheld vast affluence and great\nprosperity, and wondered at the beauty and loveliness of the damsel.\nThen the damsel said to him, \"Know, O king, that I am the queen of\nthis land, and all these troops that thou hast seen, including every\none, whether of cavalry or infantry, are women. There are not among\nthem any men. The men among us, in this land, till and sow and reap,\nemploying themselves in the cultivation of the land, and the building\nand repairing of the towns, and in attending to the affairs of the\npeople, by the pursuit of every kind of art and trade; but as to the\nwomen, they are the governors and magistrates and soldiers.\" And the\nyoung man wondered at this extremely. And while they were thus\nconversing, the vizier entered; and lo! she was a grey-haired old\nwoman, having a numerous retinue, of venerable and dignified\nappearance; and the queen said to her, \"Bring to us the Kadee and the\nwitnesses.\" So the old woman went for that purpose. And the queen\nturned towards the young man, conversing with him and cheering him,\nand dispelling his fear by kind words; and, addressing him\ncourteously, she said to him, \"Art thou content for me to be thy\nwife?\" And thereupon he arose and kissed the ground before her; but\nshe forbade him; and he replied, \"O my mistress, I am less than the\nservants who serve thee.\" She then said to him, \"Seest thou not these\nservants and soldiers and wealth and treasures and hoards?\" He\nanswered her, \"Yes.\" And she said to him, \"All these are at thy\ndisposal; thou shalt make use of them, and give and bestow as seemeth\nfit to thee.\" Then she pointed to a closed door, and said to him, \"All\nthese things thou shalt dispose of; but this door thou shalt not open;\nfor if thou open it, thou wilt repent, when repentance will not avail\nthee.\" Her words were not ended when the vizier, with the Kadee and\nthe witnesses, entered, and all of them were old women, with their\nhair spreading over their shoulders, and of venerable and dignified\nappearance. When they came before the queen, she ordered them to\nperform the ceremony of the marriage-contract. So they married her to\nthe young man. And she prepared the banquets and collected the troops;\nand when they had eaten and drunk, the young man took her as his wife.\nAnd he resided with her seven years, passing the most delightful,\ncomfortable, and agreeable life.\n\nBut he meditated one day upon opening the door, and said, \"Were it not\nthat there are within it great treasures, better than what I have\nseen, she had not prohibited me from opening it.\" He then arose and\nopened the door, and lo! within it was the bird that had carried him\nfrom the shore of the great river, and deposited him upon the island.\nWhen the bird beheld him, it said to him, \"No welcome to a face that\nwill never be happy!\" So, when he saw it and heard its words, he fled\nfrom it; but it followed him and carried him off, and flew with him\nbetween heaven and earth for the space of an hour, and at length\ndeposited him in the place from which it had carried him away; after\nwhich it disappeared. He thereupon sat in that place, and, returning\nto his reason, he reflected upon what he had seen of affluence and\nglory and honour, and the riding of the troops before him, and\ncommanding and forbidding; and he wept and wailed. He remained upon\nthe shore of the great river, where that bird had put him, for the\nspace of two months, wishing that he might return to his wife; but\nwhile he was one night awake, mourning and meditating, some one spoke\n(and he heard his voice, but saw not his person), calling out, \"How\ngreat were the delights! Far, far from thee is the return of what is\npassed! And how many therefore will be the sighs!\" So when the young\nman heard it, he despaired of meeting again that queen, and of the\nreturn to him of the affluence in which he had been living. He then\nentered the mansion where the sheykhs had resided, and knew that they\nhad experienced the like of that which had happened unto him, and that\nthis was the cause of their weeping and their mourning; wherefore he\nexcused them. Grief and anxiety came upon the young man, and he\nentered his chamber, and ceased not to weep and moan, relinquishing\nfood and drink and pleasant scents and laughter, until he died; and he\nwas buried by the side of the sheykhs.\n\n\n\n\nTHE FOX AND THE WOLF.\n\n\nA fox and a wolf inhabited the same den, resorting thither together,\nand thus they remained a long time. But the wolf oppressed the fox;\nand it so happened that the fox counselled the wolf to assume\nbenignity, and to abandon wickedness, saying to him, \"If thou\npersevere in thine arrogance, probably God will give power over thee\nto a son of Adam; for he is possessed of stratagems, and artifice, and\nguile; he captureth the birds from the sky, and the fish from the sea,\nand cutteth the mountains and transporteth them; and all this he\naccomplisheth through his stratagems. Betake thyself, therefore, to\nthe practice of equity, and relinquish evil and oppression; for it\nwill be more pleasant to thy taste.\" The wolf, however, received not\nhis advice; on the contrary, he returned him a rough reply, saying to\nhim, \"Thou hast no right to speak on matters of magnitude and\nimportance.\" He then gave the fox such a blow that he fell down\nsenseless; and when he recovered, he smiled in the wolf's face,\napologising for his shameful words, and recited these two verses:--\n\n    \"If I have been faulty in my affection for you, and committed\n            a deed of a shameful nature,\n    I repent of my offence, and your clemency will extend to the\n            evildoer who craveth forgiveness.\"\n\nSo the wolf accepted his apology, and ceased from ill-treating him,\nbut said to him, \"Speak not of that which concerneth thee not, lest\nthou hear that which will not please thee.\" The fox replied, \"I hear\nand obey. I will abstain from that which pleaseth thee not; for the\nsage hath said, 'Offer not information on a subject respecting which\nthou art not questioned; and reply not to words when thou art not\ninvited; leave what concerneth thee not, to attend to that which\n_doth_ concern thee; and lavish not advice upon the evil, for they\nwill recompense thee for it with evil.'\"\n\nWhen the wolf heard these words of the fox, he smiled in his face; but\nhe meditated upon employing some artifice against him, and said, \"I\nmust strive to effect the destruction of this fox.\" As to the fox,\nhowever, he bore patiently the injurious conduct of the wolf, saying\nwithin himself, \"Verily, insolence and calumny occasion destruction,\nand betray one into perplexity; for it hath been said, 'He who is\ninsolent suffereth injury, and he who is ignorant repenteth, and he\nwho feareth is safe: moderation is one of the qualities of the noble,\nand good manners are the noblest gain.' It is advisable to behave\nwith dissimulation towards this tyrant, and he will inevitably be\noverthrown.\" He then said to the wolf, \"Verily the Lord pardoneth and\nbecometh propitious unto His servant when he hath sinned; and I am a\nweak slave, and have committed a transgression in offering thee\nadvice. Had I foreknown the pain that I have suffered from thy blow, I\nhad known that the elephant could not withstand nor endure it; but I\nwill not complain of the pain of that blow, on account of the\nhappiness that hath resulted unto me from it; for, if it had a severe\neffect upon me, its result was happiness; and the sage hath said, 'The\nbeating inflicted by the preceptor is at first extremely grievous; but\nin the end it is sweeter than clarified honey!'\" So the wolf said, \"I\nforgive thine offence, and cancel thy fault; but beware of my power,\nand confess thyself my slave; for thou hast experienced my severity\nunto him who showeth me hostility.\" The fox, therefore, prostrated\nhimself before him, saying to him, \"May God prolong thy life, and\nmayest thou not cease to subdue him who opposeth thee!\" And he\ncontinued to fear the wolf, and to dissemble towards him.\n\nAfter this the fox went one day to a vineyard, and saw in its wall a\nbreach; but he suspected it, saying unto himself, \"There must be some\ncause for this breach, and it hath been said, 'Whoso seeth a hole in\nthe ground, and doth not shun it, and be cautious of advancing to it\nboldly, exposeth himself to danger and destruction.' It is well known\nthat some men make a figure of the fox in the vineyard, and even put\nbefore it grapes in plates, in order that a fox may see it, and\nadvance to it, and fall into destruction. Verily I regard this breach\nas a snare; and it hath been said, 'Caution is the half of\ncleverness.' Caution requireth me to examine this breach, and to see\nif I can find there anything that may lead to perdition. Covetousness\ndoth not induce me to throw myself into destruction.\" He then\napproached it, and, going round about examining it warily, beheld it;\nand lo! there was a deep pit, which the owner of the vineyard had dug\nto catch in it the wild beasts that despoiled the vines; and he\nobserved over it a slight covering. So he drew back from it, and said,\n\"Praise be to God that I regarded it with caution! I hope that my\nenemy, the wolf, who hath made my life miserable, may fall into it, so\nthat I alone may enjoy absolute power over the vineyard, and live in\nit securely.\" Then, shaking his head, and uttering a loud laugh, he\nmerrily sang these verses--\n\n    \"Would that I beheld at the present moment in this well a wolf,\n    Who hath long afflicted my heart, and made me drink bitterness\n            perforce!\n    Would that my life might be spared, and that the wolf might meet\n            his death!\n    Then the vineyard would be free from his presence, and I should\n            find in it my spoil.\"\n\nHaving finished his song, he hurried away until he came to the wolf,\nwhen he said to him, \"Verily God hath smoothed for thee the way to the\nvineyard without fatigue. This hath happened through thy good fortune.\nMayest thou enjoy, therefore, that to which God hath granted thee\naccess, in smoothing thy way to that plunder and that abundant\nsustenance without any difficulty!\" So the wolf said to the fox, \"What\nis the proof of that which thou hast declared?\" The fox answered, \"I\nwent to the vineyard, and found that its owner had died; and I entered\nthe garden, and beheld the fruits shining upon the trees.\"\n\nSo the wolf doubted not the words of the fox, and in his eagerness he\narose and went to the breach. His cupidity had deceived him with vain\nhopes, and the fox stopped and fell down behind him as one dead,\napplying this verse as a proverb suited to the case--\n\n    \"Dost thou covet an interview with Leyla? It is covetousness\n            that causeth the loss of men's heads.\"\n\nWhen the wolf came to the breach, the fox said to him, \"Enter the\nvineyard; for thou art spared the trouble of breaking down the wall of\nthe garden, and it remaineth for God to complete the benefit.\" So the\nwolf walked forward, desiring to enter the vineyard, and when he came\nto the middle of the covering of the hole, he fell into it; whereupon\nthe fox was violently excited by happiness and joy, his anxiety and\ngrief ceased, and in merry tones he sang these verses--\n\n    \"Fortune hath compassionated my case, and felt pity for the length\n            of my torment,\n    And granted me what I desired, and removed that which I dreaded.\n    I will, therefore, forgive its offences committed in former times;\n    Even the injustice it hath shown in the turning of my hair grey.\n    There is no escape for the wolf from utter annihilation;\n    And the vineyard is for me alone, and I have no stupid partner.\"\n\nHe then looked into the pit, and beheld the wolf weeping in his\nrepentance and sorrow for himself, and the fox wept with him. So the\nwolf raised his head towards him, and said, \"Is it from thy compassion\nfor me that thou hast wept, O Abu-l-Hoseyn?\" \"No,\" answered the fox,\n\"by him who cast thee into this pit; but I weep for the length of thy\npast life, and in my regret at thy not having fallen into this pit\nbefore the present day. Hadst thou fallen into it before I met with\nthee, I had experienced refreshment and ease. But thou hast been\nspared to the expiration of thy decreed term and known period.\" The\nwolf, however, said to him, \"Go, O evildoer, to my mother, and\nacquaint her with that which hath happened to me; perhaps she will\ncontrive some means for my deliverance.\" But the fox replied, \"The\nexcess of thy covetousness and eager desire has entrapped thee into\ndestruction, since thou hast fallen into a pit from which thou wilt\nnever be saved. Knowest thou not, O ignorant wolf, that the author of\nthe proverb saith, 'He who thinks not of results will not be secure\nfrom perils?'\" \"O Abu-l-Hoseyn!\" rejoined the wolf, \"thou wast wont to\nmanifest an affection for me, and to desire my friendship, and fear\nthe greatness of my power. Be not, then, rancorous towards me for that\nwhich I have done unto thee; for he who hath one in his power, and yet\nforgiveth, will receive a recompense from God, and the poet hath\nsaid--\n\n    \"'Sow good, even on an unworthy soil; for it will not be\n            fruitless wherever it is sown.\n    Verily, good, though it remained long buried, none will\n            reap but him who sowed it.'\"\n\n\"O most ignorant of the beasts of prey!\" said the fox, \"and most\nstupid of the wild beasts of the regions of the earth, hast thou\nforgotten thy haughtiness, and insolence, and pride, and thy\ndisregarding the rights of companionship, and thy refusing to be\nadvised by the saying of the poet?--\n\n    \"'Tyrannise not, if thou hast the power to do so; for the\n            tyrannical is in danger of revenge,\n    Thine eye will sleep while the oppressed, wakeful, will call\n            down curses on thee, and God's eye sleepeth not.'\"\n\n\"O Abu-l-Hoseyn!\" exclaimed the wolf, \"be not angry with me for my\nformer offences, for forgiveness is required of the generous, and kind\nconduct is among the best means of enriching one's-self. How\nexcellent is the saying of the poet--\n\n    \"'Haste to do good when thou art able; for at every season thou\n            hast not the power.'\"\n\nHe continued to abase himself to the fox, and said to him, \"Perhaps\nthou canst find some means of delivering me from destruction.\" But the\nfox replied, \"O artful, guileful, treacherous wolf! hope not for\ndeliverance; for this is the recompense of thy base conduct, and a\njust retaliation.\" Then, shaking his jaws with laughing, he recited\nthese two verses--\n\n    \"No longer attempt to beguile me; for thou wilt not attain\n            thy object.\n    What thou seekest from me is impossible. Thou hast sown,\n            and reap, then, vexation.\"\n\n\"O gentle one among the beasts of prey!\" resumed the wolf, \"thou art\nin my estimation more faithful than to leave me in this pit.\" He then\nshed tears, and repeated this couplet--\n\n    \"O thou whose favours to me have been many, and whose gifts have\n            been more than can be numbered!\n    No misfortune hath ever yet befallen me but I have found thee\n            ready to aid me in it.\"\n\nThe fox replied, \"O stupid enemy, how art thou reduced to humility,\nsubmissiveness, abjectness, and obsequiousness, after thy disdain,\npride, tyranny, and haughtiness! I kept company with thee through fear\nof thine oppression, and flattered thee without a hope of\nconciliating thy kindness; but now terror hath affected thee, and\npunishment hath overtaken thee.\" And he recited these two verses--\n\n    \"O thou who seekest to beguile! thou hast fallen in thy base\n            intention.\n    Taste, then, the pain of shameful calamity, and be with other\n            wolves cut off.\"\n\nThe wolf still entreated him, saying, \"O gentle one! speak not with\nthe tongue of enmity, nor look with its eye; but fulfil the covenant\nof fellowship with me before the time for discovering a remedy shall\nhave passed. Arise and procure for me a rope, and tie one end of it to\na tree, and let down to me its other end, that I may lay hold of it.\nPerhaps I may so escape from my present predicament, and I will give\nthee all the treasures that I possess.\" The fox, however, replied,\n\"Thou hast prolonged a conversation that will not procure thy\nliberation. Hope not, therefore, for thy escape through my means; but\nreflect upon thy former wicked conduct, and the perfidy and artifice\nwhich thou thoughtest to employ against me, and how near thou art to\nbeing stoned. Know that thy soul is about to quit the world, and to\nperish and depart from it: then wilt thou be reduced to destruction,\nand an evil abode is it to which thou goest!\" \"O Abu-l-Hoseyn!\"\nrejoined the wolf, \"be ready in returning to friendship, and be not so\nrancorous. Know that he who delivereth a soul from destruction hath\nsaved it alive, and he who saveth a soul alive is as if he had saved\nthe lives of all mankind. Follow not a course of evil, for the wise\nabhor it; and there is no evil more manifest than my being in this\npit, drinking the suffocating pains of death, and looking upon\ndestruction, when thou art able to deliver me from the misery into\nwhich I have fallen.\" But the fox exclaimed, \"O thou barbarous,\nhard-hearted wretch! I compare thee, with respect to the fairness of\nthy professions and the baseness of thine intention, to the falcon\nwith the partridge.\" \"And what,\" asked the wolf, \"is the story of the\nfalcon and the partridge?\"\n\nThe fox answered, \"I entered a vineyard one day to eat of its grapes,\nand while I was there, I beheld a falcon pounce upon a partridge; but\nwhen he had captured him, the partridge escaped from him and entered\nhis nest, and concealed himself in it; whereupon the falcon followed\nhim, calling out to him, 'O idiot! I saw thee in the desert hungry,\nand, feeling compassion for thee, I gathered for thee some grain, and\ntook hold of thee that thou mightest eat; but thou fleddest from me,\nand I see no reason for thy flight unless it be to mortify. Show\nthyself, then, and take the grain that I have brought thee and eat it,\nand may it be light and wholesome to thee.' So when the partridge\nheard these words of the falcon, he believed him and came forth to\nhim; and the falcon stuck his talons into him, and got possession of\nhim. The partridge therefore said to him, 'Is this that of which thou\nsaidst that thou hadst brought for me from the desert, and of which\nthou saidst to me, \"Eat it, and may it be light and wholesome to\nthee?\" Thou hast lied unto me; and may God make that which thou eatest\nof my flesh to be a mortal poison in thy stomach!' And when he had\neaten it, his feathers fell off, and his strength failed, and he\nforthwith died.\"\n\nThe fox then continued, \"Know, O wolf, that he who diggeth a pit for\nhis brother soon falleth into it himself; and thou behavedst with\nperfidy to me first.\" \"Cease,\" replied the wolf, \"from addressing me\nwith this discourse, and propounding fables, and mention not unto me\nmy former base actions. It is enough for me to be in this miserable\nstate, since I have fallen into a calamity for which the enemy would\npity me, much more the true friend. Consider some stratagem by means\nof which I may save myself, and so assist me. If the doing this\noccasion thee trouble, thou knowest that the true friend endureth for\nhis own true friend the severest labour, and will suffer destruction\nin obtaining his deliverance; and it hath been said, 'An affectionate\nfriend is even better than a brother.' If thou procure means for my\nescape, I will collect for thee such things as shall be a store for\nthee against the time of want, and then I will teach thee\nextraordinary stratagems by which thou shalt make the plenteous\nvineyards accessible, and shalt strip the fruitful trees: so be happy\nand cheerful.\" But the fox said, laughing as he spoke, \"How excellent\nis that which the learned have said of him who is excessively ignorant\nlike thee!\" \"And what have the learned said?\" asked the wolf. The fox\nanswered, \"The learned have observed that the rude in body and in\ndisposition is far from intelligence, and nigh unto ignorance; for\nthine assertion, O perfidious idiot! that the true friend undergoeth\ntrouble for the deliverance of his own true friend is just as thou\nhast said; but acquaint me, with thine ignorance and thy paucity of\nsense, how I should bear sincere friendship towards thee with thy\ntreachery. Hast thou considered me a true friend unto thee when I am\nan enemy who rejoiceth in thy misfortune? These words are more severe\nthan the piercing of arrows, if thou understand. And as to thy saying\nthat thou wilt give me such things as will be a store for me against\nthe time of want, and will teach me stratagems by which I shall obtain\naccess to the plenteous vineyards and strip the fruitful trees--how is\nit, O guileful traitor! that thou knowest not a stratagem by means of\nwhich to save thyself from destruction? How far, then, art thou from\nprofiting thyself, and how far am I from receiving thine advice? If\nthou know of stratagems, employ them to save thyself from this\npredicament from which I pray God to make thine escape far distant.\nSee, then, O idiot! if thou know any stratagem, and save thyself by\nits means from slaughter, before thou lavish instruction upon another.\nBut thou art like a man whom a disease attacked, and to whom there\ncame a man suffering from the same disease to cure him, saying to him,\n'Shall I cure thee of thy disease?' The first man, therefore, said to\nthe other, 'Why hast thou not begun by curing thyself?' So he left him\nand went his way. And thou, O wolf, art in the same case. Remain,\nthen, in thy place, and endure that which hath befallen thee.\"\n\nNow when the wolf heard these words of the fox, he knew that he had no\nkindly feeling for him; so he wept for himself, and said, \"I have been\ncareless of myself; but if God deliver me from this affliction, I will\nassuredly repent of my overbearing conduct unto him that is weaker\nthan I; and I will certainly wear wool, and ascend the mountains,\ncommemorating the praises of God (whose name be exalted!) and fearing\nHis punishment; and I will separate myself from all the other wild\nbeasts, and verily I will feed the warriors in defence of the religion\nand the poor.\" Then he wept and lamented; and thereupon the heart of\nthe fox was moved with tenderness for him. On hearing his humble\nexpressions, and the words which indicated his repenting of arrogance\nand pride, he was affected with compassion for him, and, leaping with\njoy, placed himself at the brink of the pit, and sat upon his\nhind-legs and hung down his tail into the cavity. Upon this the wolf\narose, and stretched forth his paw towards the fox's tail, and pulled\nhim down to him; so the fox was with him in the pit. The wolf then\nsaid to him, \"O fox of little compassion! wherefore didst thou rejoice\nin my misfortune? Now thou hast become my companion, and in my power.\nThou hast fallen into the pit with me, and punishment hath quickly\novertaken thee. The sages have said, 'If any one of you reproach his\nbrother for deriving his nourishment from miserable means, he shall\nexperience the same necessity,' and how excellent is the saying of the\npoet--\n\n    \"'When fortune throweth itself heavily upon some, and encampeth\n            by the side of others,\n    Say to those who rejoice over us, \"Awake: the rejoicers over us\n            shall suffer as _we_ have done.\"'\n\n\"I must now,\" he continued, \"hasten thy slaughter, before thou\nbeholdest mine.\" So the fox said within himself, \"I have fallen into\nthe snare with this tyrant, and my present case requireth the\nemployment of artifice and frauds. It hath been said that the woman\nmaketh her ornaments for the day of festivity; and, in a proverb, 'I\nhave not reserved thee, O my tear, but for the time of my difficulty!'\nand if I employ not some stratagem in the affair of this tyrannical\nwild beast, I perish inevitably. How good is the saying of the poet--\n\n    \"'Support thyself by guile; for thou livest in an age whose sons\n            are like the lions of the forest;\n    And brandish around the spear of artifice, that the mill of\n            subsistence may revolve;\n    And pluck the fruits; or if they be beyond thy reach, then\n            content thyself with herbage.'\"\n\nHe then said to the wolf, \"Hasten not to kill me, lest thou repent, O\ncourageous wild beast, endowed with might and excessive fortitude! If\nthou delay, and consider what I am about to tell thee, thou wilt know\nthe desire that I formed; and if thou hasten to kill me, there will be\nno profit to thee in thy doing so, but we shall die here together.\" So\nthe wolf said, \"O thou wily deceiver! how is it that thou hopest to\neffect my safety and thine own, that thou askest me to give thee a\ndelay? Acquaint me with the desire that thou formedst.\" The fox\nreplied, \"As to the desire that I formed, it was such as requireth\nthee to recompense me for it well, since, when I heard thy promises,\nand thy confession of thy past conduct, and thy regret at not having\nbefore repented and done good; and when I heard thy vows to abstain\nfrom injurious conduct to thy companions and others, and to relinquish\nthe eating of the grapes and all other fruits, and to impose upon\nthyself the obligation of humility, and to clip thy claws and break\nthy dog-teeth, and to wear wool and offer sacrifice to God (whose\nname be exalted!) if He delivered thee from thy present state, I was\naffected with compassion for thee, though I was before longing for thy\ndestruction. So when I heard thy profession of repentance, and what\nthou vowedst to do if God delivered thee, I felt constrained to save\nthee from thy present predicament. I therefore hung down my tail that\nthou mightest catch hold of it and make thine escape. But thou wouldst\nnot relinquish thy habit of severity and violence, nor desire escape\nand safety for thyself by gentleness. On the contrary, thou didst pull\nme in such a way that I thought my soul had departed, so I became a\ncompanion with thee of the abode of destruction and death; and nothing\nwill effect the escape of myself and thee but one plan. If thou\napprove of this plan that I have to propose, we shall both save\nourselves; and after that, it will be incumbent on thee to fulfil that\nwhich thou hast vowed to do, and I will be thy companion.\" So the wolf\nsaid, \"And what is thy proposal that I am to accept?\" The fox\nanswered, \"That thou raise thyself upright; then I will place myself\nupon thy head, that I may approach the surface of the earth, and when\nI am upon its surface I will go forth and bring thee something of\nwhich to take hold, and after that thou wilt deliver thyself.\" But the\nwolf replied, \"I put no confidence in thy words; for the sages have\nsaid, 'He who confideth when he should hate is in error'; and it hath\nbeen said, 'He who confideth in the faithless is deceived, and he who\nmaketh trial of the trier will repent.' How excellent also is the\nsaying of the poet--\n\n    \"'Let not your opinion be otherwise than evil; for ill opinion\n            is among the strongest of intellectual qualities.\n    Nothing casteth a man into a place of danger like the practice\n            of good, and a fair opinion!'\n\n\"And the saying of another--\n\n    \"'Always hold an evil opinion, and so be safe.\n    Whoso liveth vigilantly, his calamities will be few.\n    Meet the enemy with a smiling and an open face; but raise for him\n            an army in the heart to combat him.'\n\n\"And that of another--\n\n    \"'The most bitter of thine enemies is the nearest whom thou\n            trustest in: beware then of men, and associate with\n            them wilily.\n    Thy favourable opinion of fortune is a weakness: think evil of\n            it, therefore, and regard it with apprehension!'\"\n\n\"Verily,\" rejoined the fox, \"an evil opinion is not commendable in\nevery case; but a fair opinion is among the characteristics of\nexcellence, and its result is escape from terrors. It is befitting, O\nwolf, that thou employ some stratagem for thine escape from the\npresent predicament; and it will be better for us both to escape than\nto die. Relinquish, therefore, thine evil opinion and thy malevolence;\nfor if thou think favourably of me, I shall not fail to do one of two\nthings; either I shall bring thee something of which to lay hold, and\nthou wilt escape from thy present situation, or I shall act\nperfidiously towards thee, and save myself and leave thee; but this\nis a thing that cannot be, for I am not secured from meeting with some\nsuch affliction as that which thou hast met with, and that would be\nthe punishment of perfidy. It hath been said in a proverb, 'Fidelity\nis good, and perfidy is base.' It is fit, then, that thou trust in me,\nfor I have not been ignorant of misfortunes. Delay not, therefore, to\ncontrive our escape, for the affair is too strait for thee to prolong\nthy discourse upon it.\"\n\nThe wolf then said, \"Verily, notwithstanding my little confidence in\nthy fidelity, I knew what was in thy heart, that thou desiredst my\ndeliverance when thou wast convinced of my repentance; and I said\nwithin myself, 'If he be veracious in that which he asserteth, he hath\nmade amends for his wickedness; and if he be false, he will be\nrecompensed by his Lord.' So now I accept thy proposal to me, and if\nthou act perfidiously towards me, thy perfidy will be the means of thy\ndestruction.\" Then the wolf raised himself upright in the pit, and\ntook the fox upon his shoulders, so that his head reached the surface\nof the ground. The fox thereupon sprang from the wolf's shoulders, and\nfound himself upon the face of the earth, when he fell down senseless.\nThe wolf now said to him, \"O my friend! forget not my case, nor delay\nmy deliverance.\"\n\nThe fox, however, uttered a loud laugh, and replied, \"O thou deceived!\nit was nothing but my jesting with thee and deriding thee that\nentrapped me into thy power; for when I heard thy profession of\nrepentance, joy excited me, and I was moved with delight, and danced,\nand my tail hung down into the pit; so thou didst pull me, and I fell\nby thee. Then God (whose name be exalted!) delivered me from thy hand.\nWherefore, then, should I not aid in thy destruction when thou art of\nthe associates of the devil? Know that I dreamt yesterday that I was\ndancing at thy wedding, and I related the dream to an interpreter, who\nsaid to me, 'Thou wilt fall into a frightful danger, and escape from\nit.' So I knew that my falling into thy power and my escape was the\ninterpretation of my dream. Thou, too, knowest, O deceived idiot! that\nI am thine enemy. How, then, dost thou hope, with thy little sense and\nthine ignorance, that I will deliver thee, when thou hast heard what\nrude language I used? And how shall I endeavour to deliver thee, when\nthe learned have said that by the death of the sinner are produced\nease to mankind and purgation of the earth? Did I not fear that I\nshould suffer, by fidelity to thee, such affliction as would be\ngreater than that which may result from perfidy, I would consider upon\nmeans for thy deliverance.\" So when the wolf heard the words of the\nfox, he bit his paw in repentance. He then spoke softly to him, but\nobtained nothing thereby. With a low voice he said to him, \"Verily,\nyou tribe of foxes are the sweetest of people in tongue, and the most\npleasant in jesting, and this is jesting in thee; but every time is\nnot convenient for sport and joking.\" \"O idiot!\" replied the fox,\n\"jesting hath a limit which its employer transgresseth not. Think not\nthat God will give thee possession of me after He hath delivered me\nfrom thy power.\" The wolf then said to him, \"Thou art one in whom it\nis proper to desire my liberation, on account of the former\nbrotherhood and friendship that subsisted between us; and if thou\ndeliver me, I will certainly recompense thee well.\" But the fox\nreplied, \"The sages have said, 'Take not as thy brother the ignorant\nand wicked, for he will disgrace thee, and not honour thee; and take\nnot as thy brother the liar, for if good proceed from thee he will\nhide it, and if evil proceed from thee he will publish it!' And the\nsages have said, 'For everything there is a stratagem, excepting\ndeath; and everything may be rectified excepting the corruption of the\nvery essence; and everything may be repelled excepting destiny.' And\nas to the recompense which thou assertest that I deserve of thee, I\ncompare thee, in thy recompensing, to the serpent fleeing from the\nHawee, when a man saw her in a state of terror, and said to her, 'What\nis the matter with thee, O serpent?' She answered, 'I have fled from\nthe Hawee, for he seeketh me; and if thou deliver me from him, and\nconceal me with thee, I will recompense thee well, and do thee every\nkindness.' So the man took her, to obtain the reward, and eager for\nthe recompense, and put her into his pocket; and when the Hawee had\npassed and gone his way, and what she feared had quitted her, the man\nsaid to her, 'Where is the recompense, for I have saved thee from that\nwhich thou fearedst and didst dread?' The serpent answered him, 'Tell\nme in what member I shall bite thee; for thou knowest that we exceed\nnot this recompense.' She then inflicted upon him a bite, from which\nhe died. And thee, O idiot!\" continued the fox, \"I compare to that\nserpent with that man. Hast thou not heard the saying of the poet?--\n\n    \"'Trust not a person in whose heart thou hast made anger to\n            dwell, nor think his anger hath ceased.\n    Verily, the vipers, though smooth to the touch, show graceful\n            motions, and hide mortal poison.'\"\n\n\"O eloquent and comely-faced animal!\" rejoined the wolf, \"be not\nignorant of my condition, and of the fear with which mankind regard\nme. Thou knowest that I assault the strong places, and strip the\nvines. Do, therefore, what I have commanded thee, and attend to me as\nthe slave attendeth to his master.\" \"O ignorant idiot! who seekest\nwhat is vain,\" exclaimed the fox, \"verily I wonder at thy stupidity,\nand at the roughness of thy manner, in thine ordering me to serve thee\nand to stand before thee as though I were a slave. But thou shalt\nsoon see what will befall thee, by the splitting of thy head with\nstones, and the breaking of thy treacherous dog-teeth.\"\n\nThe fox then stationed himself upon a mound overlooking the vineyard,\nand cried out incessantly to the people of the vineyard until they\nperceived him and came quickly to him. He remained steady before them\nuntil they drew near unto him, and unto the pit in which was the wolf,\nand then he fled. So the owners of the vineyard looked into the pit,\nand when they beheld the wolf in it, they instantly pelted him with\nheavy stones, and continued throwing stones and pieces of wood upon\nhim, and piercing him with the points of spears, until they killed\nhim, when they departed. Then the fox returned to the pit, and\nstanding over the place of the wolf's slaughter, saw him dead;\nwhereupon he shook his head in the excess of his joy, and recited\nthese verses--\n\n    \"Fate removed the wolf's soul, and it was snatched away.\n    Far distant from happiness be his soul that hath perished.\n    How long hast thou striven, Abos Tirhan, to destroy me!\n    But now have burning calamities befallen thee.\n    Thou hast fallen into a pit into which none shall descend\n            without finding in it the blasts of death.\"\n\nAfter this the fox remained in the vineyard alone, and in security,\nfearing no mischief.\n\n\n\n\nTHE SHEPHERD AND THE JOGIE.\n\n\nIt is related that during the reign of a king of Cutch, named Lakeh, a\nJogie lived, who was a wise man, and wonderfully skilled in the\npreparation of herbs. For years he had been occupied in searching for\na peculiar kind of grass, the roots of which should be burnt, and a\nman be thrown into the flames. The body so burnt would become gold,\nand any of the members might be removed without the body sustaining\nany loss, as the parts so taken would always be self-restored.\n\nIt so occurred that this Jogie, whilst following a flock of goats,\nobserved one amongst them eating of the grass he was so anxious to\nprocure. He immediately rooted it up, and desired the shepherd who was\nnear to assist him in procuring firewood. When he had collected the\nwood and kindled a flame, into which the grass was thrown, the Jogie,\nwishing to render the shepherd the victim of his avarice, desired him,\nunder some pretence, to make a few circuits round the fire. The man,\nhowever, suspecting foul play, watched his opportunity, and, seizing\nthe Jogie himself, he threw him into the fire and left him to be\nconsumed. Next day, on returning to the spot, great was his surprise\nto behold the golden figure of a man lying amongst the embers. He\nimmediately chopped off one of the limbs and hid it. The next day he\nreturned to take another, when his astonishment was yet greater to see\nthat a fresh limb had replaced the one already taken. In short, the\nshepherd soon became wealthy, and revealed the secret of his riches to\nthe king, Lakeh, who, by the same means, accumulated so much gold that\nevery day he was in the habit of giving one lac and twenty-five\nthousand rupees in alms to fakirs.\n\n\n\n\nTHE PERFIDIOUS VIZIER.\n\n\nA king of former times had an only son, whom he contracted in marriage\nto the daughter of another king. But the damsel, who was endowed with\ngreat beauty, had a cousin who had sought her in marriage, and had\nbeen rejected; wherefore he sent great presents to the vizier of the\nking just mentioned, requesting him to employ some stratagem by which\nto destroy his master's son, or to induce him to relinquish the\ndamsel. The vizier consented. Then the father of the damsel sent to\nthe king's son, inviting him to come and introduce himself to his\ndaughter, to take her as his wife; and the father of the young man\nsent him with the treacherous vizier, attended by a thousand horsemen,\nand provided with rich presents. When they were proceeding over the\ndesert, the vizier remembered that there was near unto them a spring\nof water called Ez-zahra, and that whosoever drank of it, if he were a\nman, became a woman. He therefore ordered the troops to alight near\nit, and induced the prince to go thither with him. When they arrived\nat the spring, the king's son dismounted from his courser, and washed\nhis hands, and drank; and lo! he became a woman; whereupon he cried\nout and wept until he fainted. The vizier asked him what had befallen\nhim, so the young man informed him; and on hearing his words, the\nvizier affected to be grieved for him, and wept. The king's son then\nsent the vizier back to his father to inform him of this event,\ndetermining not to proceed nor to return until his affliction should\nbe removed from him, or until he should die.\n\nHe remained by the fountain during a period of three days and nights,\nneither eating nor drinking, and on the fourth night there came to him\na horseman with a crown upon his head, appearing like one of the sons\nof the kings. This horseman said to him, \"Who brought you, O young\nman, unto this place?\" So the young man told him his story; and when\nthe horseman heard it, he pitied him, and said to him, \"The vizier of\nthy father is the person who hath thrown thee into this calamity; for\nno one of mankind knoweth of this spring excepting one man.\" Then the\nhorseman ordered him to mount with him. He therefore mounted; and the\nhorseman said to him, \"Come with me to my abode: for thou art my guest\nthis night.\" The young man replied, \"Inform me who thou art before I\ngo with thee.\" And the horseman said, \"I am the son of a king of the\nJinn, and thou art son of a king of mankind. And now, be of good heart\nand cheerful eye on account of that which shall dispel thine anxiety\nand thy grief, for it is unto me easy.\"\n\nSo the young man proceeded with him from the commencement of the day,\nforsaking his troops and soldiers (whom the vizier had left at their\nhalting-place), and ceased not to travel on with his conductor until\nmidnight, when the son of the king of the Jinn said to him, \"Knowest\nthou what space we have traversed during this period?\" The young man\nanswered him, \"I know not.\" The son of the king of the Jinn said, \"We\nhave traversed a space of a year's journey to him who travelleth with\ndiligence.\" So the young man wondered thereat, and asked, \"How shall I\nreturn to my family?\" The other answered, \"This is not thine affair.\nIt is my affair; and when thou shalt have recovered from thy\nmisfortune, thou shalt return to thy family in less time than the\ntwinkling of an eye, for to accomplish that will be to me easy.\" The\nyoung man, on hearing these words from the Jinnee, almost flew with\nexcessive delight. He thought that the event was a result of confused\ndreams, and said, \"Extolled be the perfection of him who is able to\nrestore the wretched, and render him prosperous!\" They ceased not to\nproceed until morning, when they arrived at a verdant, bright land,\nwith tall trees, and warbling birds, and gardens of surpassing beauty,\nand fair palaces; and thereupon the son of the king of the Jinn\nalighted from his courser, commanding the young man also to dismount.\nHe therefore dismounted, and the Jinnee took him by the hand, and they\nentered one of the palaces, where the young man beheld an exalted king\nand a sultan of great dignity, and he remained with them that day,\neating and drinking, until the approach of night. Then the son of the\nking of the Jinn arose and mounted with him, and they went forth, and\nproceeded during the night with diligence until the morning. And lo!\nthey came to a black land, not inhabited, abounding with black rocks\nand stones, as though it were a part of hell; whereupon the son of the\nking of men said to the Jinnee, \"What is the name of this land?\" And\nhe answered, \"It is called the Dusky Land, and belongeth to one of the\nkings of the Jinn, whose name is Zu-l-Jenaheyn. None of the kings can\nattack him, nor doth any one enter his territory unless by his\npermission, so stop in thy place while I ask his permission.\"\nAccordingly the young man stopped, and the Jinn was absent from him\nfor a while, and then returned to him; and they ceased not to proceed\nuntil they came to a spring flowing from black mountains. The Jinnee\nsaid to the young man, \"Alight.\" He therefore alighted from his\ncourser, and the Jinnee said to him, \"Drink of this spring.\"\n\nThe young prince drank of it, and immediately became again a man, as\nhe was at first, by the power of God (whose name be exalted!), whereat\nhe rejoiced with great joy, not to be exceeded. And he said to the\nJinn, \"O my brother, what is the name of this spring?\" The Jinnee\nanswered, \"It is called the Spring of the Women: no woman drinketh of\nit but she becometh a man; therefore praise God, and thank Him for thy\nrestoration, and mount thy courser.\" So the king's son prostrated\nhimself, thanking God (whose name be exalted!). Then he mounted, and\nthey journeyed with diligence during the rest of the day until they\nhad returned to the land of the Jinnee, and the young man passed the\nnight in his abode in the most comfortable manner; after which they\nate and drank until the next night, when the son of the king of the\nJinn said to him, \"Dost thou desire to return to thy family this\nnight?\" The young man answered, \"Yes.\" So the son of the king of the\nJinn called one of his father's slaves, whose name was Rajiz, and said\nto him, \"Take this young man hence, and carry him upon thy shoulders,\nand let not the dawn overtake him before he is with his father-in-law\nand his wife.\" The slave replied, \"I hear and obey, and with feelings\nof love and honour will I do it.\" Then the slave absented himself for\na while, and approached in the form of an 'Efreet. And when the young\nman saw him his reason fled, and he was stupefied; but the son of the\nking of the Jinn said to him, \"No harm shall befall thee. Mount thy\ncourser. Ascend upon his shoulders.\" The young man then mounted upon\nthe slave's shoulders, and the son of the king of the Jinn said to\nhim, \"Close thine eyes.\" So he closed his eyes, and the slave flew\nwith him between heaven and earth, and ceased not to fly along with\nhim while the young man was unconscious, and the last third of the\nnight came not before he was on the top of the palace of his\nfather-in-law. Then the 'Efreet said to him, \"Alight.\" He therefore\nalighted. And the 'Efreet said to him, \"Open thine eyes; for this is\nthe palace of thy father-in-law and his daughter.\" Then he left him\nand departed. And as soon as the day shone, and the alarm of the young\nman subsided, he descended from the roof of the palace; and when his\nfather-in-law beheld him, he rose to him and met him, wondering at\nseeing him descend from the top of the palace, and he said to him, \"We\nsee other men come through the doors, but thou comest down from the\nsky.\" The young man replied, \"What God (whose perfection be extolled,\nand whose name be exalted!) desired hath happened.\" And when the sun\nrose, his father-in-law ordered his vizier to prepare great banquets,\nand the wedding was celebrated; the young man remained there two\nmonths, and then departed with his wife to the city of his father. But\nas to the cousin of the damsel, he perished by reason of his jealousy\nand envy.\n\n\n    Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty,\n              _at the Edinburgh University Press_.\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's Note\n\nMinor punctuation errors have been repaired.\n\nArchaic and variable spelling, e.g. corse and corpse, is preserved as\nprinted where there was no predominance of one form over the other.\n\n\"The Relations of Ssidi Kur\" contains phrasing at the end of each\nstory, beginning with the word 'Ssarwala,' which is similar but not\nidentical each time it occurs. While two seemingly typographic errors\nhave been amended for consistency, the phrases are otherwise preserved\nas printed in each case.\n\nThe following amendments have been made, for consistency:\n\n    Page 21--El-Yeman amended to El-Yemen--\"... and while he was\n    proceeding over the deserts of El-Yemen ...\"\n\n    Page 58--jackzang amended to jakzang--\"... thou hast spoken\n    words:--Ssarwala missbrod jakzang! ...\"\n\n    Page 88--Swarwala amended to Ssarwala--\"Ssarwala missdood\n    jakzang!\"\n\n    Page 115--aerlic amended to aerliks--\"And the two aerliks\n    (fiends) cried, ...\"\n\n    Page 118--evil-doer amended to evildoer--\"... That the\n    evildoer may be really discovered, ...\"\n\n\n\n\n\n<pre id=\"pg-footer\">","title":"Folk-Lore and Legends: Oriental","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":45360}