Chapter V (2)

Perie Banou then sent for her treasurer, to whom, when she came, she said, “Noor-Jehaun” (which was her name), “bring me the largest tent in my treasury.”

Noor-Jehaun returned presently with a small case concealed in the palm of her hand, and presented it to her mistress, who gave it to Prince Ahmed to look at.

When Prince Ahmed saw the small case, which the fairy called the largest tent in her treasury, he fancied she had a mind to banter him. On perceiving this, Perie Banou exclaimed, “What, prince! Do you think I jest with you? You will see that I am in earnest. Noor-Jehaun,” said she to her treasurer, taking the tent out of Prince Ahmed’s hands, “go and set it up, that he may judge whether the sultan his father will think it large enough.”

The treasurer went out immediately with it from the palace, and carried it to a great distance, and then set it up. The prince found it large enough to shelter two armies as numerous as that of the sultan his father. “You see,” said the fairy, “that the tent is larger than your father may have occasion for; but you must also be informed that it becomes larger or smaller, according to the extent of the army it is to cover, without applying any hands to it.”

The treasurer took down the tent, reduced it to its first size, brought it and put it into the prince’s hands. He took it, and without staying longer than till the next day, mounted his horse, and went with the usual attendants to the sultan his father.

The sultan, persuaded that the tent he had asked for was beyond all possibility, was greatly surprised at the prince’s speedy return. He took the tent, and after he had admired its smallness he had it set up in the great plain before mentioned, and found it large enough to cover with ease his whole army. Thereupon his amazement was so intense that he could not recover himself.

The sultan expressed great obligation to the prince for so noble a present, desiring him to return his thanks to the fairy; and to show what a value he set on it, ordered it to be carefully laid up in his treasury. But in his secret bosom he felt greater jealousy than ever of his son, considering that by the fairy’s assistance he might effect his dethronement. Therefore, yet more intent on his ruin, he went to consult the sorceress again, who advised him to engage the prince to bring him some of the water of the fountain of lions.

In the evening, when the sultan was surrounded as usual by all his court, and the prince came to pay his respects among the rest, he addressed him in these words: “Son, I have already expressed to you how much I am obliged for the present of the tent you have procured me, which I esteem the most valuable article in my treasury; but you must do one thing more, which will be no less agreeable to me. I am informed that the fairy your spouse makes use of a certain water called the water of the fountain of lions, which cures all sorts of diseases, even the most dangerous; and as I am perfectly well persuaded my health is dear to you, I do not doubt but you will ask her for a bottle of that water, and bring it to me as a sure remedy, which I may use when I have occasion. Do me this important service, and complete the duty of a good son towards a tender father.”

Prince Ahmed, who had believed that the sultan his father would be satisfied with so remarkable and useful a tent as the one he had brought, and that he would not impose any new task upon him which might hazard the fairy’s displeasure, was thunderstruck at this new request. After a long silence he said, “I beg of your majesty to be assured that there is nothing I would not undertake to procure which may contribute to the prolonging of your life, but I wish it might not be by the means of my wife. For this reason I dare not promise to bring the water. All I can do is, to assure you I will request it of her; but it will be with as great reluctance as I asked for the tent.”

The next morning Prince Ahmed returned to the fairy Perie Banou, and related to her sincerely and faithfully all that had passed at his father’s court from the giving of the tent, which he told her he received with the utmost gratitude, to the new request he had charged him to make. He added, “But, my princess, I only tell you this as a plain account of what passed between me and my father. I leave you to your own pleasure, whether you will gratify or reject this new desire. It shall be as you please.”

“No, no,” replied the fairy, “I will satisfy the sultan, and whatever advice the sorceress may give him (for I see that he harkens to her counsel) he shall find no fault with you or me. There is much wickedness in this demand, as you will understand by what I am going to tell you. The fountain of lions is situated in the middle of a court of a great castle, the entrance into which is guarded by four fierce lions, two of which sleep while the other two are awake. But let not that frighten you. I will supply you with means to pass them without danger.”

The fairy Perie Banou was at that time at work with her needle; and as she had by her several balls of thread, she took up one, and presenting it to Prince Ahmed, said, “First take this ball of thread, and I will tell you presently the use of it. In the second place, you must have two horses. One you must ride yourself, and the other you must lead, loaded with a sheep cut into four quarters. In the third place, you must be provided with a bottle, which I will give you, to bring the water in. Set out early to-morrow morning, and when you have passed the gate throw before you the ball of thread, which will roll till it reaches the gates of the castle. Follow it, and when it stops the gates will be open, and you will see the four lions. The two that are awake will, by their roaring, wake the other two. Be not alarmed, but throw each of them a quarter of the sheep, and then clap spurs to your horse and ride to the fountain. Fill your bottle without alighting, and return with the same speed. The lions will be so busy eating they will let you pass unmolested.”

Prince Ahmed set out the next morning at the time appointed by the fairy, and followed her directions punctually. When he arrived at the gates of the castle, he distributed the quarters of the sheep among the four lions, and passing through the midst of them with speed, got to the fountain, filled his bottle, and returned safe. When he had proceeded a little distance from the castle gates he turned about; and perceiving two of the lions coming after him, drew his sword, and prepared himself for defence. But as he went forwards, he saw one of them turn out of the road to pass by him, and it showed by its actions that it did not come to do him any harm, but only to go before him. The other followed behind. He therefore put his sword into its scabbard. Guarded in this manner he arrived at the capital of the Indies; but the lions never left him till they had conducted him to the gates of the sultan’s palace; after which they returned the way they had come, though not without alarming the populace, who fled or hid themselves to avoid them, notwithstanding they walked gently and showed no signs of fierceness.

A number of officers came to attend the prince while he dismounted, and conduct him to the apartment of the sultan, who was at that time conversing with his councillors. He approached the throne, laid the bottle at the sultan’s feet, kissed the rich carpet which covered the footstool, and rising, said, “I have brought you, sire, the healthful water which your majesty so much wished for; but at the same time I wish you such health as never to have occasion to make use of it.”

After the prince had concluded his compliment, the sultan placed him on his right hand, and said, “Son, I am much obliged to you for this valuable present, as also for the great danger you have exposed yourself to on my account; but I have one thing yet to ask of you, after which I shall expect nothing more from your obedience, nor from your interest with your fairy wife. This request is, to bring me a man not above a foot and a half high, whose beard is thirty feet long, and who carries on his shoulders a bar of iron of five hundredweight, which he uses as a quarter-staff.”

Next day the prince returned to Perie Banou, to whom he related his father’s new demand, “which,” he said, “I look on to be a thing more difficult than the two first, for I cannot imagine there is or can be such a man in the world. Without doubt he seeks my ruin; but if there are any means, I beg you will tell me how I may come off with honor this time also.”

“Do not alarm yourself, prince,” replied the fairy; “you ran a risk in fetching the water of the fountain of lions for your father, but there is no danger in finding this man. He is my brother Schaibar. Though we both had the same parents, he is of so violent a nature that his resentment kindles at the slightest offence; yet, on the other hand, he is so liberal as to oblige any one who shows him a kindness. I will send for him, but prepare yourself not to be alarmed at his extraordinary figure.”

“What, my queen!” replied Prince Ahmed, “do you say Schaibar is your brother? Let him be ever so ugly or deformed, I shall love and honor him as your nearest relation.”

The fairy ordered a gold chafing-dish to be lighted on the porch of her palace. She took some incense and threw it into the fire, when there arose a thick cloud of smoke.

Some moments after the fairy said to Prince Ahmed, “Prince, there comes my brother, do you see him?”

The prince immediately perceived Schaibar, who, as he came forward, looked at the prince with a glance that chilled his soul in his body, and asked Perie Banou, when he first accosted her, who that man was. To which she replied, “His name is Ahmed. He is a son of the Sultan of the Indies, and my husband, brother. I did not invite you to my wedding, because you were engaged in a distant expedition, from which I heard with pleasure you returned victorious; but on my husband’s account I have taken the liberty now to call for you.”

At these words, Schaibar, gazing at Prince Ahmed with a favorable eye, which, however, diminished neither his fierceness nor savage look, said, “It is enough for me that he is your husband, to engage me to do for him whatever he wishes.”

“The sultan his father,” replied Perie Banou, “has a curiosity to see you, and I desire he may be your guide to the sultan’s court.”

“He needs but lead the way; I will follow him,” replied Schaibar.

The next morning, Schaibar set out with Prince Ahmed to visit the sultan. When they arrived at the gates of the capital, the people, as soon as they saw Schaibar, either hid themselves in their shops and houses, and shut their doors, or they took to their heels, and communicated their fear to all they met. They stayed not to look behind them; insomuch that Schaibar and Prince Ahmed, as they went along, found all the streets and squares desolate, till they came to the palace, where the guards, instead of preventing Schaibar from entering, ran away too. Thus the prince and he advanced without any obstacle to the council-hall, where the sultan was seated on his throne surrounded by his councillors.

Schaibar haughtily approached the throne, and without waiting for Prince Ahmed to present him, thus addressed the sultan: “Thou hast sent for me. What dost thou wish?”

The sultan, instead of answering, put his hands before his eyes to exclude so frightful a sight. Schaibar, enraged at this reception, lifted up his bar of iron. “Wilt thou not speak, then?” he exclaimed, and let it fall directly on the sultan’s head, and crushed him to the earth.

He did this before Prince Ahmed had the power to interfere. Then he destroyed all the councillors who were the enemies of Prince Ahmed, and only spared the grand vizier at Prince Ahmed’s earnest entreaty. Having completed this dreadful execution, Schaibar left the hall of audience, and went into the middle of the court with the bar of iron on his shoulder. “I know there is a certain sorceress who stirred up the sultan to demand my presence here,” he cried, looking at the grand vizier, standing beside Prince Ahmed. “Let her be brought before me.”

The grand vizier immediately sent for her, when Schaibar, as he crushed her with his bar of iron, said, “Learn the consequence of giving wicked advice.”

“Vizier!” exclaimed Schaibar, “this is not sufficient. Prince Ahmed, my brother-in-law, must be instantly acknowledged as Sultan of India.”

All those who were present cheerfully assented, and made the air resound with cries of “Long live Sultan Ahmed,” and in a short time the whole city echoed with the same shouts. Schaibar next ordered the prince clothed in the robes of the sultan, and had him instantly installed. And after having paid him homage, and taken an oath of fidelity, he went for his sister, Perie Banou, conducted her to the city in great pomp, and caused her to be acknowledged as Sultana of India.

Prince Ahmed gave to Prince Ali and the Princess Nouronnihar a very considerable province, with its capital, for their establishment. Afterwards he sent an officer to Houssain to acquaint him with the change, and made him an offer of any province he might choose; but that prince thought himself so happy in his solitude, that he desired the officer to return his brother thanks for the kindness he designed him, assuring him of his submission; but that the only favor he desired was, to be indulged with leave to live retired in the place he had chosen for his retreat.

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THE WIDOW’S SON

In a little house at the edge of a village lived a widow with her only son, and they were very happy together. The son was kind to his mother, and they made their living by growing rice in clearings on the mountain side and by hunting wild pig in the forest.

One evening when their supply of meat was low, the boy said:

“Mother, I am going to hunt pig in the morning, and I wish you would prepare rice for me before daylight.”

So the widow rose early and cooked the rice, and at dawn the boy started out with his spear and dog.

Some distance from the village he entered the thick forest. He walked on and on, ever on the lookout for game, but none appeared. At last, when he had travelled far and the sun was hot, he sat down on a rock to rest and took out his brass box to get a piece of betel-nut. He prepared the nut and leaf for chewing, and as he did so he wondered why it was that he had been so unsuccessful that day. But even as he pondered he heard his dog barking sharply, and cramming the betel-nut into his mouth he leaped up and ran toward the dog.

As he drew near he could see that the game was a fine large pig, all black save its four legs, which were white. He lifted his spear and took aim, but before he could throw the pig started to run, and instead of going toward a water course it ran straight up the mountain. The boy went on in hot pursuit, and when the pig paused he again took aim, but before he could throw, it ran on.

Six times the pig stopped just long enough for the boy to take aim, and then started on before he could throw. The seventh time, however, it halted on the top of a large flat rock, and the boy succeeded in killing it.

He tied its legs together with a piece of rattan and was about to start for home with the pig on his back, when to his surprise a door in the large stone swung open and a man stepped out.

“Why have you killed my master’s pig?” asked the man.

“I did not know that this pig belonged to anyone,” replied the widow’s son. “I was hunting, as I often do, and when my dog found the pig I helped him to catch it.”

“Come in and see my master,” said the man, and the boy followed him into the stone where he found himself in a large room. The ceiling and floor were covered with peculiar cloth that had seven wide strips of red alternating with a like number of yellow stripes. When the master of the place appeared his trousers were of seven colors, as were also his jacket and the kerchief about his head.

The master ordered betel-nut, and when it was brought they chewed together. Then he called for wine, and it was brought in a jar so large that it had to be set on the ground under the house, and even then the top came so high above the floor that they brought a seat for the widow’s son, and it raised him just high enough to drink from the reed in the top of the jar. He drank seven cups of wine, and then they ate rice and fish and talked together.

The master did not blame the boy for killing the pig, and declared that he wished to make a brother of him. So they became friends, and the boy remained seven days in the stone. At the end of that time he said that he must return to his mother, who would be worried about him. In the early morning he left the strange house and started for home.

At first he walked briskly, but as the morning wore on he went more slowly, and finally when the sun was high he sat down on a rock to rest. Suddenly looking up, he saw before him seven men, each armed with a spear, a shield, and a sword. They were dressed in different colors, and each man had eyes the same color as his clothes. The leader, who was dressed all in red, with red eyes to match, spoke first, asking the boy where he was going. The boy replied that he was going home to his mother who would be looking for him, and added:

“Now I ask where you are going, all armed ready for war.”

“We are warriors,” replied the man in red, “and we go up and down the world killing whatever we see that has life. Now that we have met you, we must kill you also.”

The boy, startled by this strange speech, was about to answer when he heard a voice near him say: “Fight, for they will try to kill you,” and upon looking up he saw his spear, shield, and sword which he had left at home. Then he knew that the command came from a spirit, so he took his weapons and began to fight. For three days and nights they contended, and never before had the seven seen one man so brave. On the fourth day the leader was wounded and fell dead, and then, one by one, the other six fell.

When they were all killed, the widow’s son was so crazed with fighting that he thought no longer of returning home, but started out to find more to slay.

In his wanderings he came to the home of a great giant whose house was already full of men he had conquered in battle, and he called up from outside:

“Is the master of the house at home? If he is, let him come out and fight.”

This threw the giant into a rage, and seizing his shield and his spear, the shaft of which was the trunk of a tree, he sprang to the door and leaped to the ground, not waiting to go down the notched pole that served for steps. He looked around for his antagonist, and seeing only the widow’s son he roared:

“Where is the man that wants to fight? That thing? It is only a fly!”

The boy did not stop to answer, but rushed at the giant with his knife; and for three days and nights they struggled, till the giant fell, wounded at the waist.

After that the widow’s son stopped only long enough to burn the giant’s house, and then rushed on looking for someone else to slay. Suddenly he again heard the voice which had bade him fight with the seven men, and this time it said: “Go home now, for your mother is grieved at your absence.” In a rage he sprang forward with his sword, though he could see no enemy. Then the spirit which had spoken to him made him sleep for a short time. When he awoke the rage was spent.

Again the spirit appeared, and it said: “The seven men whom you killed were sent to kill you by the spirit of the great stone, for he looked in your hand and saw that you were to marry the orphan girl whom he himself wished to wed. But you have conquered. Your enemies are dead. Go home now and prepare a great quantity of wine, for I shall bring your enemies to life again, and you will all live in peace.”

So the widow’s son went home, and his mother, who had believed him dead, was filled with joy at his coming, and all the people in the town came out to welcome him. When he had told them his story, they hastened to get wine, and all day they bore jarsful to the widow’s house.

That night there was a great feast, and the spirit of the great stone, his seven warriors, the friendly spirit, and the giant all came. The widow’s son married the orphan girl, while another beautiful woman became the wife of the spirit of the stone.

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MR. SIN, THE CARP

Some years ago there lived in a small town in the province of “The Four Streams” two retired magistrates. Mr. Le, the elder of the two, had been asked to leave the last position he held because it was his custom to levy blackmail whenever he could do so, and he was also charged, let us hope unjustly, with having inflicted torture upon those unfortunate ones who could not, or would not, meet his demands. In fact, he had become so greedy that the people were in a state of rebellion. He was at length made to retire, but not until he had become quite rich.

The other ex-official, Mr. Sin, was quite impulsive. He had been in the habit of worrying the people of his district, and whenever he began to worry anyone, that person had to pay in order to live peacefully. The Chinese are slow to change, but even they will turn in time on a constant worrier. And so Mr. Sin’s superiors requested him to resign, and this he did, but not before he also had become quite wealthy.

Chance led these two worthies to the same town, and as their fates had been so much alike, they decided to set up house together. They were both rich, and so able to make themselves very comfortable indeed.

One day Mr. Sin fell sick of a fever, and though this annoyed Mr. Le, who was expecting some rich friends to dinner, he sent for the doctor, and gave directions that Mr. Sin was to be properly looked after.

When the doctor arrived, his patient was in a high fever, so he at once prescribed a mixture of powdered deer horns and dragon’s blood, and pills made from hare’s liver, these medicines to be taken at intervals. Before leaving the house he took Ting, Sin’s valet, aside, and ordered him on no account to leave his master alone, as he might become delirious at any moment.

Ting promised not to leave his master for an instant, but a little later on he heard sounds of merriment in the servants’ quarters, and as Mr. Sin had fallen asleep, he quietly went out to enjoy himself among his fellows. He had scarcely left the room, however, when Sin became very restless, rolling his aching head from side to side.

“My head burns, and the pillow scorches!” moaned he. “I am suffocating! O for a breath of the fresh air in the fields and woods! Why should I not go and enjoy it? I will!” he exclaimed, and with that he sprang out of bed, ran out of the room and through the front door, and then down the road and into a neighboring field.

“This is delicious!” he said, as he threw himself down. “Now I can breathe, and am myself again.”

But soon his tongue again became parched; his skin burned, and pains pierced his head. “Oh,” he cried, “the fire-demon has followed me here! If only I could plunge into a river of cold water I should be well.” He arose and wandered on until he saw before him a broad, shining river, into which he immediately plunged.

He was an expert swimmer, and he dived to the bottom, then skimmed along the top, his queue floating on the water, and looking like an eel. “This is happiness,” he said; “who would live on land who could live in water?”

Just then he heard close to him a funny sort of chuckle, and turning round, he saw a large fish staring at him with round eyes, and with a peculiar twist of its mouth which Sin could see was caused by laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” he asked.

“You,” replied the fish.

“Why do you laugh at me?” he inquired.

“I laughed at what you said,” answered the fish. “The idea of a man knowing what the delight of living in water is was so funny that I couldn’t help laughing, and it has made me feel very uncomfortable, because I am not used to doing that.”

Then Sin asked why a fish should enjoy the water more than a man, and the fish replied that a man would like to swim and dive for a little while, but his ugly limbs, which made him look like a frog, would soon tire. And then, when a man is hungry, he has to seek his food on land, while a fish can find nourishment while gliding through the water, and that without fatigue and almost without movement.

Then said Sin: “I would give a good deal to be like you.”

“Do you mean that you would like to become a fish?”

“I do,” said Sin; “and I would give up all the money I squeezed out of the people when I was a magistrate if I could enjoy the river as you do.”

“Then come with me,” said the fish; and turning round he swam up-stream, going very slowly so that Sin should not lose sight of him.

At length they reached a spot where a huge carp lay, surrounded by attendant fishes. Sin could see he was the king fish by the reverent manner with which the others regarded him.

Sin’s guide approached the fish king, and said:

“Your Highness, here is a poor man who wants very much to become a fish, and so I have ventured to bring him into your presence.” He then motioned Sin to approach.

“Do you really wish to become a fish?” inquired the king.

“I do, your Majesty,” replied Sin. “The gentleman who brought me to you has shown me that only fishes can really appreciate life in the river, and I am sure that the full enjoyment of such must be wonderful.”

“Then you shall have your desire,” said the king, and turning to one of his attendants, he told him to fetch a large fish’s skin.

The messenger soon returned with a skin which proved to be just the right size, and into this Sin was put, leaving out only his hands and feet. It was rather uncomfortable at first, and he felt a gradual change coming over him; his arms grew smaller and smaller, and his hands became like fins; his legs and feet went together and took the form of a tail. Then he felt better, and became anxious to try his new powers, so, thanking his Majesty for his kindness, he began to swim away.

“Just a minute,” said the king. “I have some advice to give you. No one knows better than you that men are always trying to catch fish, both by hook and net. Now, if ever you see a worm dangling in the water in the shape of a hook, leave it alone, or you will be a dead fish; and if you see a net before you, turn around, and swim the other way.”

“Many thanks for your instructions, your Majesty,” said Sin, and with that he turned down-stream. It took him a little while to get used to his tail and fins, as he still wanted to strike out with his hands and feet, but by degrees he became used to them, and then he swam swiftly with the current. He felt fine, and greatly enjoyed the new experience.

But after a time he became hungry, and looked around for a worm, and this was something new for him. Perhaps it was because he didn’t know how to look for food, but it did seem to him that there was nothing eatable about, although he went from one bank to the other; dived down to the bed of the river, and nosed among the refuse there, but all to no purpose. And he became hungrier and hungrier.

At last he saw a worm, but he noticed that it was in the shape of a hook, and remembering the king’s instructions he passed by it, then he came back. He swam to and fro, trying to avoid it, but somehow he couldn’t get away from it. The demon of hunger whispered to him, “Eat it; never mind what the old carp said, he knows less than you do. If you are afraid of it, just nibble a little piece off its tail, instead of gulping it all down.”

So Sin just pulled off a little piece that was wriggling about, and it tasted so good, that he couldn’t resist taking the rest of it, so he greedily swallowed the whole worm.

Quickly was delight turned into pain as the hook, which was hidden in the worm, pierced the roof of his mouth. In terror he tried to swim away, but every movement added to his misery, and soon he found he was being pulled up to the surface. He struggled, but all in vain, and in spite of all he could do, he was drawn out of the water. He looked up, and to his surprise and relief, saw that his captor was one of his own servants.

He spoke to him as well as he could, and said: “Let me go, Chang; I am your master, Sin, and not a fish; take this awful hook out of my mouth, and put me back into the water at once.”

Chang was puzzled, because he had never heard a fish make a noise like this before, but he seized the fish, remarking to himself what a wonderfully fine one it was, and tearing the hook out of its jaws, threw it down in the boat.

“You scoundrel!” shouted Sin. “How dare you treat me like this. I dismiss you from my service at once.”

“I have heard tales of birds talking,” said Chang, “but may I be beaten if I haven’t got hold of a fish that talks.” With that he turned to the shore, and then he lifted the fish by its gills, and started toward home.

“Oh, you will kill me!” shouted Sin. “I will have you flayed alive for this.”

But Chang took no more notice of the strange noises the fish made, and thought only of the present he would receive for bringing home such a fine fish. Sin was feeling weak from pain, and from being out of the water so long. He thought that surely the old porter would know him when he should reach the house, so he ceased his efforts for the present.

As soon as they reached the gate the porter congratulated Chang on the fine fish he had caught, and said that Mr. Le had just sent to know whether he had brought in anything.

“Porter,” said Sin, “I am your master, and not a fish. This fellow Chang has caused me great pain, and refuses to put me back into the water. I order you to take me to the river at once.”

“This is a queer fish that you have got hold of, Chang,” said the porter; “I never heard one make a noise like this before. You had better take it at once to Mr. Le.”

“What fools these men are,” thought Sin. “I see that I must wait until I can explain the matter to Le.”

Chang took the fish straight to Mr. Le, and said: “Your Excellency, here is the finest carp I have ever seen.”

“Listen to me, Le,” said Sin, as loudly as he could. “I am your friend, Sin, and I put on this fish’s skin just to see what it is like to be a fish. This scoundrel Chang has tortured me. Please tell him to put me back into the river, as I wish to take my former shape again.”

“This is a very peculiar fish,” said Le; “why, he grunts like a pig. Still, he will make a good dish, so take him to the cook.”

“Oh!” groaned Sin, “would you eat your old friend, Le?”

But Le didn’t understand either, so Chang started for the kitchen. “My only chance now is that the cook will know me,” thought Sin.

And now his last hope fled, for as Chang handed the carp to the cook, Sin said as distinctly as he could, “Cook, I am no fish, but Mr. Sin. I have always treated you well, so please take me back to the river.”

“This is a noisy carp you have caught, Chang,” said the cook, “but he won’t grunt much longer. Hand me the chopper.”

And now Sin made all the noise he could. He screamed, “Spare me! Spare me, cook.” But the cook took no notice of him. Placing him on the kitchen block, he lifted the chopper, and gave him a violent blow on the head.

“Oh!” exclaimed Sin, “what an awful knock I have given myself. I must have fallen out of bed and struck my head on the floor.”

He was now thoroughly awake, but it was some time before he could realize that he was safe in his own room, so real had his experiences seemed. But he at length breathed a sigh of relief, for he knew that it was only a dream.

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PRINCE ZEYN ALASNAM AND THE SULTAN OF THE GENII

There was a Sultan of Bussorah blessed with great prosperity and happy in the affections of his people. His only source of affliction was, that he was childless. But after many years had passed a son was born to him, whom he named Zeyn Alasnam.

Zeyn was educated with the greatest care. While, however, the prince was yet young, the good sultan fell sick of a disorder, which all the skill of his physicians could not cure, and presently he died.

As soon as the mourning for his father was passed, Prince Zeyn began to show that he was unfit to govern a kingdom. He gave way to all kinds of dissipation and conferred on his youthful but evil associates the chief offices in the kingdom. He lost all the respect of his people and emptied his treasury.

The queen, his mother, tried to correct her son’s conduct, assuring him that if he did not take another course, he would cause some revolution, which perhaps might cost him his crown and his life. What she thus foretold had nearly happened. The people began to murmur against the government, and their murmurs would certainly have been followed by a general revolt if the sultan had not listened to his mother and suffered himself to be prevailed on. He dismissed his youthful advisers and committed the government to discreet aged men.

Zeyn, seeing all his wealth consumed, repented that he had made no better use of it. He fell into a profound melancholy and nothing could comfort him. One night he saw in a dream a venerable old man coming towards him, who with a smiling countenance said: “Know, Zeyn, that there is no sorrow but what is followed by mirth; no misfortune but what in the end brings some happiness. If you desire to see the end of your affliction, set out for Grand Cairo, where great prosperity awaits you.”

The young sultan was much struck with his dream, and spoke of it very seriously to his mother, who only laughed at it. “My son,” said she, “would you leave your kingdom and go into Egypt on the faith of a dream, which may be illusive?”

“Why not, madam?” answered Zeyn; “do you imagine all dreams are worthless? No, no, they often are divinely inspired. The old man who appeared to me had something holy about his person. I rely on the promises he has made me, and am resolved to follow his advice.”

The queen endeavored to dissuade him, but in vain. The sultan entreated her to undertake the government of the kingdom, and set out one night very privately from his palace and took the road to Cairo, alone and unattended.

After much trouble and fatigue he arrived at that famous city. He alighted at the gate of a mosque, where, being spent with weariness, he lay down. No sooner was he fallen asleep than he saw the same old man, who said to him: “I am pleased with you, my son. You have believed me, and now I want you to know that I have not imposed on you this long journey with any other design than to try you. I find you have courage and resolution. You deserve I should make you the richest and happiest prince in the world. Return to Bussorah and you shall find immense wealth in your palace. No king ever possessed so rich a treasure.”

Prince Zeyn was not pleased with his dream. “Alas!” thought he to himself when he awoke, “how much was I mistaken! That old man is no other than the production of my disturbed imagination. My fancy was so full of him that it is no wonder I have seen him again. I had best return to Bussorah. What should I do here any longer? It is fortunate that I told none but my mother the motive of my journey. I should become a jest to my people were they to know it.”

Accordingly, he set out for his kingdom, and as soon as he arrived there the queen asked him whether he returned well pleased. He told her all that had happened, and was so much concerned for having been so foolish that the queen, instead of adding to his vexation by reproving or laughing at him, comforted him. “Forbear afflicting yourself, my son,” said she; “if God has appointed you riches, you will have them without any trouble. Be contented. Apply yourself to making your subjects happy. By securing their happiness you will establish your own.”

Sultan Zeyn vowed that he would for the future follow his mother’s advice and be directed by the wise viziers she had chosen to assist him in the government. But the very night after he returned to his palace he saw the old man the third time in a dream, who said to him: “The time of your prosperity is come, brave Zeyn. To-morrow morning, as soon as you are up, take a pick-axe and dig in the late sultan’s private room. You will there find a rich treasure.”

As soon as the sultan awoke he got up, ran to the queen’s apartment, and with much eagerness told her the new dream of that night. “Really, my son,” said the queen, smiling, “this is a very queer old man; but have you a mind to believe him again? At any rate, the task now enjoined on you is not so bad as your former long journeys.”

“Well, madam,” answered the sultan, “I must own that this third dream has restored my confidence. Last night he exactly pointed out to me the place where the treasures are. I would rather search in vain than blame myself as long as I live for having, perhaps, missed great riches, by being too unbelieving.”

Having spoken thus he left the queen’s apartment, caused a pick-axe to be brought to him, and went alone into the late sultan’s private room. He immediately began work, and took up more than half the square stones it was paved with, yet saw not the least appearance of what he sought. He ceased working to take a little rest, thinking within himself, “I am much afraid my mother had cause enough to laugh at me.”

However, he took heart and went on with his labor, until he discovered a white slab, which he took up, and under it found a staircase of white marble. He immediately lighted a lamp and went down the stairs into a room, the floor whereof was laid with tiles of chinaware, while the roof and walls were of crystal. The room contained four golden tables, on each of which were ten urns of porphyry. He went up to one of the urns, took off the cover, and, with no less joy than surprise, perceived it was full of pieces of gold. He looked into all the forty, one after another, and found them full of the same coin, and taking out a handful, he carried it to the queen.

The queen, as may be imagined, was amazed when the sultan gave her an account of what he had discovered. “Oh my son!” said she, “take heed you do not squander all this wealth foolishly, as you have already done the royal treasure. Let not your enemies have so much occasion to rejoice.”

“No, madam,” answered Zeyn, “I will henceforward live in such a manner as shall be pleasing to you.”

The queen desired her son to conduct her to the wonderful underground place, which the late sultan her husband had made with such secrecy that she had never heard of it. Zeyn led her to the private room, down the marble stairs, and into the chamber where the urns were. She observed everything with the eye of curiosity, and in a corner spied a little urn of the same sort of stone as the others. The prince had not before taken notice of it, but, opening it, found inside a golden key. “My son,” said the queen, “this key certainly belongs to some other treasure. Let us search well. Perhaps we may discover the use it is designed for.”

They examined the chamber with the utmost exactness and at length found a keyhole in one of the panels of the wall. The sultan immediately tried the key, and readily opened the door which led into a chamber. In the midst of this room were nine pedestals of massy gold, on eight of which stood as many statues, each of them made of a single diamond, and from them darted such a brightness that the whole room was perfectly light.

“Oh heavens!” cried Zeyn, in astonishment, “where could my father find such rarities?”

The ninth pedestal redoubled this amazement, for it was covered with a piece of white satin, on which were written these words: “Dear son, it cost me much toil to procure these eight statues; but though they are extraordinarily beautiful, you must understand that there is a ninth in the world, which surpasses them all. That alone is worth more than a thousand such as these. If you desire to be master of it, go to the city of Cairo in Egypt. One of my old slaves, whose name is Mobarec, lives there. You will easily find him. Visit him and tell him all that has befallen you. He will conduct you to the place where that wonderful statue is, which you will obtain with safety.”

The young sultan having read these words said to the queen, “I will set out for Grand Cairo; nor do I believe, madam, that you will now oppose my design.”

“No, my son,” answered the queen, “I am not against it.”

The prince made ready his equipage, but would take only a small number of slaves with him.

Nothing remarkable befell him by the way, but arriving at Cairo he inquired for Mobarec. The people told him he was one of the wealthiest inhabitants of the city; that he lived like a great lord, and that his house was open, especially for strangers. Zeyn was conducted thither, knocked at the gate, which a slave opened and demanded, “What is it you want, and who are you?”

“I am a stranger,” answered the prince, “and having heard much of the lord Mobarec’s generosity, am come to take up my lodging with him.”

The slave desired Zeyn to wait while he went to acquaint his master, who ordered him to request the stranger to walk in. The slave returned to the gate and told the prince he was welcome.

Zeyn went in, crossed a large court, and entered a hall magnificently furnished, where Mobarec received him very courteously, returning thanks for the honor he did him in accepting a lodging in his house. The prince, having answered his compliment, said to Mobarec, “I am the son of the late Sultan of Bussorah, and my name is Zeyn Alasnam.”

“That sovereign,” said Mobarec, “was formerly my master; but I never knew he had any children. What is your age?”

“I am twenty years old,” answered the sultan. “How long is it since you left my father’s court?”

“Almost two-and-twenty years,” replied Mobarec. “But how can you convince me that you are his son?”

“My father,” rejoined Zeyn, “had a subterraneous place under his private room in which I have found forty porphyry urns full of gold.”

“And what more is there?” said Mobarec.

“Nine pedestals of massive gold,” answered the prince, “on eight whereof are as many diamond statues, and on the ninth a piece of white satin, on which my father has written what I am to do to procure another statue, more valuable than all those together. You know where that statue is, for it is mentioned on the satin that you will conduct me to it.”

As soon as he had spoken these words, Mobarec fell down at his feet, and kissing one of his hands several times, said: “I bless God for having brought you hither. I know you to be the Sultan of Bussorah’s son. If you will go to the place where the wonderful statue is, I will conduct you; but you must first rest here for a short time. This day I entertain the great men of the city. Will you vouchsafe to come and be merry with us?”

“I shall be very glad,” replied Zeyn, “to be admitted to your feast.”

Mobarec immediately led him under a dome where the company was, seated him at the table, and served him. The merchants of Cairo were surprised and whispered to one another. “Who is this stranger to whom Mobarec pays so much respect?”

When they had dined, Mobarec, directing his discourse to the company, said: “Know, my friends, that this young stranger is the son of the Sultan of Bussorah, my late master. His father purchased me and died without making me free; so that I am still a slave, and consequently all I have of right belongs to this young prince, his sole heir.”

Here Zeyn interrupted him. “Mobarec,” said he, “I declare, before all these guests, that I make you free from this moment, and that I renounce all right to your person and all you possess. Consider what you would have me do more for you.”

Mobarec kissed the ground and returned the prince most hearty thanks.

The next day Zeyn said to Mobarec: “I have taken rest enough. I came not to Cairo for pleasure. My design is to obtain the ninth statue. It is time for us to set out in search of it.”

“Sir,” said Mobarec, “I am ready to comply with your desires; but you know not what dangers you must encounter to make this precious acquisition.”

“Whatsoever the danger may be,” answered the prince, “I have resolved to make the attempt. I will either perish or succeed. Do you but bear me company and let your resolution be equal to mine.”

Mobarec, finding him determined to go, called his servants and ordered them to make ready his equipage. The prince and he then set out. They travelled many days. At length, being come to a delightful spot, they alighted from their horses. Mobarec then said to the servants that attended them, “Do you remain here till we return.”

Then he said to Zeyn: “Now, sir, let us advance by ourselves. You will stand in need of all your courage.”

They soon came to a vast lake. Mobarec sat down on the brink of it, saying to the prince, “We must cross this water.”

“How can we,” asked Zeyn, “when we have no boat?”

“You will see one appear in a moment,” replied Mobarec. “The enchanted boat of the Sultan of the Genii will come for us. But you must observe a profound silence. Do not speak to the boatman, and whatever extraordinary circumstance you observe, say nothing; for I tell you beforehand that if you utter one word when we are embarked, the boat will sink.”

“I shall take care to be silent,” said the prince. “You need only tell me what I am to do, and I will strictly comply.”

Whilst they were talking, he spied a boat made of red sandalwood on the lake. It had a mast of fine amber and a blue satin flag. There was only one boatman in it, and he had the head of an elephant and the body of a tiger. When the boat was come to the prince and Mobarec, the monstrous boatman took them up one after the other with his trunk, put them into his boat, and carried them over the lake in a moment. He then again took them up with his trunk, set them ashore, and immediately vanished with his boat.

“Now we may talk,” said Mobarec. “The island we are in belongs to the King of the Genii. Look around you, prince. Can there be a more delightful spot? Behold the fields adorned with all sorts of flowers and plants. Admire those beautiful trees, whose branches bend down to the ground. Hear those harmonious songs from a thousand birds of as many various sorts, unknown in other countries.”

Zeyn could not sufficiently admire the beauties with which he was surrounded, and still found something new as he advanced farther into the island.

At length they came before a palace built of emeralds, encompassed by a wide moat, on the banks whereof, at certain distances, were planted such tall trees that they shaded the whole palace. The gate was of massy gold and was approached by a bridge. At the entrance to the bridge stood a company of very tall genii, who guarded the portals of the castle with great clubs of steel.

“Let us at present proceed no farther,” said Mobarec, “or these genii will destroy us; and in order to prevent their coming to us, we must perform a magic ceremony.”