which, however, they found some difficulty in eating with their long
bills. They did not much care to eat frogs or lizards. Their one comfort
in their sad plight was the power of flying, and accordingly they often
flew over the roofs of Bagdad to see what was going on there.
During the first few days they noticed signs of much disturbance and
distress in the streets, but about the fourth day, as they sat on the
roof of the palace, they perceived a splendid procession passing below
them along the street. Drums and trumpets sounded; a man in a scarlet
mantle, embroidered in gold, sat on a splendidly caparisoned horse
surrounded by richly dressed slaves; half Bagdad crowded after him, and
they all shouted, “Hail, Mirza, the Lord of Bagdad!”
The two storks on the palace roof looked at each other, and the Caliph
Chasid said, “Can you guess now, Grand Vizier, why I have been
enchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty magician
Kaschnur, who in an evil moment vowed vengeance on me. Still I will not
despair! Come with me, my faithful friend; we will go to the grave of
the Prophet, and perhaps at that sacred spot the spell may be loosed.”
They rose from the palace roof, and spread their wings toward Medina.
But flying was not an easy matter, for the two storks had had but little
practice as yet.
“Oh, my Lord!” gasped the Vizier, after a couple of hours, “I can go on
no longer; you really fly too quick for me. Besides, it is nearly
evening, and we shall do well to find some place in which to spend the
night.”
Chasid listened with favor to his servant’s suggestion, and perceiving
in the valley beneath them a ruin which seemed to promise shelter, they
flew toward it. The building in which they proposed to pass the night
had apparently been formerly a castle. Some handsome pillars still stood
amongst the heaps of ruins, and several rooms, which yet remained in
fair preservation, gave evidence of former splendor. Chasid and his
companion wandered along the passages seeking a dry spot, when suddenly
Mansor stood still.
“My lord and master,” he whispered, “if it were not absurd for a Grand
Vizier, and still more for a stork, to be afraid of ghosts, I should
feel quite nervous, for someone, or something close by me, has sighed
and moaned quite audibly.”
The Caliph stood still and distinctly heard a low weeping sound, which
seemed to proceed from a human being rather than from any animal. Full
of curiosity, he was about to rush toward the spot from which the sounds
of woe came, when the Vizier caught him by the wing with his bill, and
implored him not to expose himself to fresh and unknown dangers. The
Caliph, however, under whose stork’s breast a brave heart beat, tore
himself away with the loss of a few feathers, and hurried down a dark
passage. He saw a door which stood ajar, and through which he distinctly
heard sighs, mingled with sobs. He pushed open the door with his bill,
but remained on the threshold, astonished at the sight which met his
eyes. On the floor of the ruined chamber—which was but scantily lighted
by a small barred window—sat a large screech owl. Big tears rolled from
its large, round eyes, and in a hoarse voice it uttered its complaints
through its crooked beak. As soon as it saw the Caliph and his
Vizier—who had crept up meanwhile—it gave vent to a joyful cry. It
gently wiped the tears from its eyes with its spotted brown wings, and
to the great amazement of the two visitors, addressed them in good human
Arabic.
“Welcome, ye storks! You are a good sign of my deliverance, for it was
foretold me that a piece of good fortune should befall me through a
stork.”
When Caliph had recovered from his surprise, he drew up his feet into a
graceful position, bent his long neck, and said: “O, screech owl! From
your words I am led to believe that we see in you a companion in
misfortune. But, alas! Your hope that you may attain your deliverance
through us is but a vain one. You will know our helplessness when you
have heard our story.”
The screech owl begged him to relate it, and the Caliph accordingly told
him what we already know.
IV.
When the Caliph had ended, the owl thanked him and said: “You must hear
my story, and own that I am no less unfortunate than yourselves. My
father is the King of the Indies. I, his only daughter, am named Lusa.
That magician, Kaschnur, who enchanted you, has been the cause of my
misfortunes, too. He came one day to my father and demanded my hand for
his son Mirza. My father—who is rather hasty—ordered him to be thrown
downstairs. The wretch not long after managed to approach me under
another form; one day when I was in the garden I asked for some
refreshment, and he brought me—in the disguise of a slave—a draught
which changed me at once to this horrid shape. Whilst I was fainting
with terror he transported me here, and cried to me with his awful
voice: ‘There shall you remain, lonely and hideous, despised even by the
brutes, till the end of your days, or till someone of his own free will
asks you to be his wife. Thus do I avenge myself on you and your proud
father.’
“Since then many months have passed away. Sad and lonely do I live like
any hermit within these walls, avoided by the world and a terror even to
animals; the beauties of nature are hidden from me, for I am blind by
day, and it is only when the moon sheds her pale light on this spot that
the veil falls from my eyes and I can see.” The owl paused, and once
more wiped her eyes with her wing, for the recital of her woes had drawn
fresh tears from her.
The Caliph fell into deep thought on hearing this story of the Princess.
“If I am not much mistaken,” said he, “there is some mysterious
connection between our misfortunes, but how to find the key to the
riddle is the question.”
The owl answered: “Oh, my Lord! I too feel sure of this, for in my
earliest youth a wise woman foretold that a stork would bring me some
great happiness, and I think I could tell you how we might save
ourselves.” The Caliph was much surprised, and asked her what she meant.
“The magician who has made us both miserable,” said she, “comes once a
month to these ruins. Not far from this room is a large hall where he is
in the habit of feasting with his companions. I have often watched them.
They tell each other all about their evil deeds, and possibly the magic
word which you have forgotten may be mentioned.”
“Oh, dearest Princess!” exclaimed the Caliph. “Say, when does he come,
and where is the hall?”
The owl paused a moment and then said: “Do not think me unkind, but I
can only grant your request on one condition.”
“Speak, speak!” cried Chasid; “command, I will gladly do whatever you
wish!”
“Well,” replied the owl, “you see I should like to be free too; but this
can only be if one of you will offer me his hand in marriage.”
The storks seemed rather taken back by this suggestion, and the Caliph
beckoned to his Vizier to retire and consult with him.
When they were outside the door the Caliph said: “Grand Vizier, this is
a tiresome business. However, you can take her.”
“Indeed!” said the Vizier; “so that when I go home my wife may scratch
my eyes out! Besides, I am an old man, and your Highness is still young
and unmarried, and a far more suitable match for a young and lovely
princess.”
“That’s just where it is,” sighed the Caliph, whose wings drooped in a
dejected manner; “how do I know she is young and lovely? I call it
buying a pig in a poke.”
They argued on for some time, but at length, when the Caliph saw plainly
that his Vizier would rather remain a stork to the end of his days than
marry the owl, he determined to fulfill the condition himself. The owl
was delighted. She owned that they could not have arrived at a better
time, as most probably the magicians would meet that very night.
She then proceeded to lead the two storks to the chamber. They passed
through a long dark passage till at length a bright ray of light shone
before them through the chinks of a half-ruined wall. When they reached
it the owl advised them to keep very quiet. Through the gap near which
they stood they could with ease survey the whole of the large hall. It
was adorned with splendid carved pillars; a number of colored lamps
replaced the light of day. In the middle of the hall stood a round table
covered with a variety of dishes, and about the table was a divan on
which eight men were seated. In one of these bad men the two recognized
the pedler who had sold the magic powder. The man next him begged him to
relate all his latest doings, and amongst them he told the story of the
Caliph and his Vizier.
“And what kind of word did you give them?” asked another old sorcerer.
“A very difficult Latin word; it is ‘Mutabor.’”
V.
As soon as the storks heard this they were nearly beside themselves with
joy. They ran at such a pace to the door of the ruined castle that the
owl could scarcely keep up with them. When they reached it the Caliph
turned to the owl, and said with much feeling: “Deliverer of my friend
and myself, as a proof of my eternal gratitude, accept me as your
husband.” Then he turned towards the east. Three times the storks bowed
their long necks to the sun, which was just rising over the mountains.
“Mutabor!” they both cried, and in an instant they were once more
transformed. In the rapture of their newly given lives master and
servant fell laughing and weeping into each other’s arms. Who shall
describe their surprise when they at last turned round and beheld
standing before them a beautiful lady exquisitely dressed!
With a smile she held out her hand to the Caliph, and asked: “Do you not
recognize your screech owl?”
It was she! The Caliph was so enchanted by her grace and beauty that he
declared being turned into a stork had been the best piece of luck which
had ever befallen him. The three set out at once for Bagdad.
Fortunately, the Caliph found not only the box with the magic powder,
but also his purse in his girdle; he was, therefore, able to buy in the
nearest village all they required for their journey, and so at last they
reached the gates of Bagdad.
Here the Caliph’s arrival created the greatest sensation. He had been
quite given up for dead, and the people were greatly rejoiced to see
their beloved ruler again.
Their rage with the usurper Mirza, however, was great in proportion.
They marched in force to the palace and took the old magician and his
son prisoners. The Caliph sent the magician to the room where the
princess had lived as an owl, and there had him hanged. As the son,
however, knew nothing of his father’s acts, the Caliph gave him his
choice between death and a pinch of the magic snuff. When he chose the
latter the Grand Vizier handed him the box. One good pinch, and the
magic word transformed him to a stork. The Caliph ordered him to be
confined in an iron cage, and placed in the palace gardens.
Caliph Chasid lived long and happily with his wife, the princess. His
merriest time was when the Grand Vizier visited him in the afternoon;
and when the Caliph was in particularly high spirits he would condescend
to mimic the Vizier’s appearance when he was a stork. He would strut
gravely, and with well-stiffened legs, up and down the room, chattering,
and showing how he had vainly bowed to the east and cried “Mu—mu——” The
Caliphess and her children were always much entertained by this
performance; when the Caliph went on nodding and bowing, and calling
“Mu—mu——” too long, the Vizier would threaten laughingly to tell the
Caliphess the subject of the discussion carried on one night outside the
door of Princess Screech Owl.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PRINCE AHMED
There was a sultan of India, who, after a long reign, had reached a good
old age. He had three sons and one niece, the chief ornaments of his
court. The eldest son was called Houssain, the second Ali, the youngest
Ahmed. The name of his niece, their cousin, was Nouronnihar. This niece,
the daughter of a favorite brother who had died young, had been brought
up in the palace from her childhood, and was remarkable for her wit and
beauty. The sultan, on her arriving at the proper age, was consulting
about a neighboring prince with whom she might form an alliance, when he
found that all the three princes, his sons, loved their cousin, and
wished to marry her. This discovery caused him great grief—not from any
disappointment of his own plans for his niece, but from the discord
which this mutual passion for their cousin would cause to his sons.
He spoke to each of them apart, and showed the impossibility of one
princess being the wife of three brothers, and the troubles they would
create if they persisted in their purpose. He did all he could to
persuade them to abide by a declaration of the princess in favor of one
of them; or that all should agree to resign their claims to her hand,
that she might marry a stranger. But as he found them equally obstinate,
he sent for them all together, and said, “My sons, since I have not been
able to persuade you in this matter, and as I have no wish to use my
authority to give the princess your cousin to one in preference of
another, I have thought of a plan which will please you all, and
preserve harmony among you, if you will but hear me and follow my
advice. I think it would not be amiss if you were to travel separately
into different countries, so that you might not meet each other; and I
promise my niece in marriage to him who shall bring me the most
extraordinary rarity. I will give each of you a sum suited to your rank,
and for the purchase of the rarity you shall search after.”
The three princes cheerfully consented to this proposal, as each
flattered himself fortune might prove favorable to him, and give him
possession of the Princess Nouronnihar. The sultan gave them the money
he promised, and issued orders for the preparations for their travels.
Early next morning they all went out at the same gate of the city, each
dressed like a merchant, attended by a trusty officer habited as a
slave, and all well mounted and equipped. They proceeded the first day’s
journey together; and at night when they were at supper, they agreed to
travel for a twelvemonth, and that day a year later to meet again at the
khan where they were stopping; so that as they had all three taken leave
together of the sultan, they might return in company. The next morning
by break of day, after they had embraced and wished each other good
success, they mounted their horses and each took a different road.
Prince Houssain, the eldest brother, who had heard of the extent, power,
riches, and splendor of the kingdom of Bisnagar, bent his course towards
the Indian coast; and after three months’ travelling with different
caravans, sometimes over deserts and barren mountains, and sometimes
through populous and fertile countries, arrived at Bisnagar, the capital
of the kingdom of that name, and the residence of its king. He lodged at
a khan appointed for foreign merchants, and soon learned that there were
four principal bazaars where merchants of all sorts kept their shops, on
a large extent of ground, in the centre of the city.
Prince Houssain went to one of these bazaars on the next day. It was
large, divided into several vaulted avenues, and shaded from the sun,
but yet very light. The shops were of the same size and proportion; and
all who dealt in the same sort of goods lived in one avenue.
The number of shops stocked with all kinds of merchandise—as the finest
linens from several parts of India; silks and brocades from Persia;
porcelain from Japan—surprised him very much; but when he came to the
shops of the goldsmiths and jewellers, he was in a kind of ecstasy at
beholding such quantities of wrought gold and silver, and was dazzled by
the lustre of the pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and other precious
stones exposed for sale.
After Prince Houssain had passed through that quarter, street by street,
a merchant, perceiving him go by much fatigued, invited him to sit down
in front of his shop. He had not been seated long before a crier
appeared, with a piece of carpet on his arm, about six feet square, and
offered it at forty purses. The prince called to the crier, and when he
had examined the carpet, told him that he could not comprehend how so
small a piece of carpet, and of so indifferent an appearance, could be
held at so high a price unless it had something very extraordinary in it
which he knew nothing of.
“You have guessed right, sir,” replied the crier; “whoever sits on this
piece of carpet may be transported in an instant wherever he desires to
be.”
“If the carpet,” said he to the crier, “has the virtue you attribute to
it, I shall not think forty purses too much.”
“Sir,” replied the crier, “I have told you the truth, and with the leave
of the master of this shop we will go into the back warehouse, where I
will spread the carpet, and when we have both sat down, and you have
formed the wish to be transported into your apartment at the khan, if we
are not conveyed thither, it shall be no bargain.”
On this proposal they went into the merchant’s back-shop, where they
both sat down on the carpet; and as soon as the prince had formed his
wish to be transported into his apartment at the khan, he in an instant
found himself and the crier there. After this convincing proof of the
virtue of the carpet, he counted to the crier forty purses of gold, and
gave him twenty pieces for himself.
In this manner Prince Houssain became the possessor of the carpet, and
was overjoyed that at his arrival at Bisnagar he had found so rare a
curiosity, which he never doubted must of course gain him the possession
of Nouronnihar, as his younger brothers could not meet with anything to
be compared with it. By sitting on this carpet, it was in his power to
be at the place of meeting that very day; but as he would be obliged to
wait there for his brothers until the time they had agreed on, he chose
to make a longer abode in this capital.
When Prince Houssain had seen all the wonders of the city, he wished to
be nearer his dear Princess Nouronnihar, and having paid all the
charges, and returned the key of his apartment to the owner of the khan,
he spread the carpet, and as soon as he had formed his wish he and the
officer whom he had brought with him were transported to the inn at
which he and his brothers were to meet, and where he passed for a
merchant till their arrival.
Prince Ali, the second brother, who had designed to travel into Persia,
after he had parted with his brothers, joined a caravan, and in four
months arrived at Shiraz, the capital of that empire.
On the next morning after his arrival, while the merchants opened their
bales of merchandise, Prince Ali took a walk into that quarter of the
town where is the bazaar of the jewellers, in which they sold precious
stones, gold and silver works, and other choice and valuable articles,
for which Shiraz was celebrated.
Among the criers who passed backwards and forwards with samples of
several sorts of goods, he was not a little surprised to see one who
held in his hand an ivory tube, about a foot in length, and about an
inch thick, which he cried at forty purses. At first he thought the
crier mad, and asked him what he meant by asking forty purses for that
tube which seemed to be a thing of no value.
The crier replied, “Sir, you are not the only person that takes me for a
madman on account of this tube; you shall judge yourself whether I am or
not, when I have told you its peculiar power. By looking through this
tube, you will see whatever object you wish to behold.”
The crier presented him the tube, and he looked through, wishing at the
same time to see the sultan his father, whom he immediately beheld in
perfect health, sitting on his throne, in the midst of his council.
Next, as there was nothing in the world so dear to him, after the
sultan, as the Princess Nouronnihar, he wished to see her; and instantly
beheld her laughing, and in a gay humor, with her women about her.
Prince Ali wanted no other proof to persuade him that this tube was the
most valuable article, not only in the city of Shiraz, but in all the
world; and believed that if he should neglect to purchase it, he would
never meet with an equally wonderful curiosity. He said to the crier, “I
am very sorry that I have entertained so wrong an opinion of you, but I
hope to make amends by buying the tube, and I will give you the price
you ask.”
On this the prince took the crier to the khan where he lodged, counted
him out the money, and received the tube.
Prince Ali was overjoyed at his purchase; he persuaded himself that, as
his brothers would not be able to meet with anything so rare and
admirable, the Princess Nouronnihar must be the recompense of his
fatigue and travels. He now thought only of visiting the court of
Persia, and of seeing whatever was curious in Shiraz, and when the
caravan took its departure he joined the party of merchants with whom he
had travelled, and arrived happily without any accident or trouble at
the place appointed, where he found Prince Houssain, and both waited for
Prince Ahmed.
Prince Ahmed took the road to Samarcand, and the day after his arrival,
went as his brothers had done, into the market, where he had not walked
long before he heard a crier, who had an artificial apple in his hand,
offer it at forty purses. He stopped the crier, and said to him, “Let me
see that apple, and tell me what virtue it possesses, to be valued at so
high a rate.”
“Sir,” replied the crier, giving it into his hand, “if you look at the
mere outside of this apple, it is not very remarkable; but if you
consider its properties, you will say it is invaluable, and that he who
possesses it is master of a great treasure. It cures all sick persons of
every disease, and even if the patient is dying, it will help him
immediately, and restore him to perfect health; and this merely by the
patient’s smelling it.”
“If one may believe you,” replied Prince Ahmed, “the virtues of this
apple are wonderful, and it is indeed invaluable; but how am I to know
that there is no error in the high praises you bestow on it?”
“Sir,” replied the crier, “the truth is known by the whole city of
Samarcand. Ask all these merchants you see here, and hear what they say.
You will find several of them will tell you they had not been alive this
day had they not made use of this excellent remedy.”
While the crier was detailing to Prince Ahmed the virtues of the
artificial apple, many persons gathered round them, and confirmed what
he declared; and one amongst the rest said he had a friend dangerously
ill, whose life was despaired of, which was a favorable opportunity to
show the apple’s power; on which Prince Ahmed told the crier he would
give him forty purses for the apple if it cured the sick person by
smelling it.
“Come sir,” said the crier to Prince Ahmed, “let us go and make the
experiment, and the apple shall be yours.”
The experiment succeeded; and the prince, after he had counted out to
the crier forty purses, received the apple. He then spent his time in
seeing all that was curious at and about Samarcand; and having joined
the first caravan that set out for the Indies, he arrived in perfect
health at the inn, where the Princes Houssain and Ali waited for him.
When Prince Ahmed joined his brothers they embraced with tenderness, and
complimented each other on the happiness of meeting together in safety
at the same place they had set out from. Houssain, as the eldest
brother, then said: “Brothers, we shall have time enough hereafter to
describe our travels. Let us come to that which is of the greatest
importance for us to know, and not conceal from each other the
curiosities we have brought, but show them, that we may ourselves judge
to which of us the sultan our father may give the preference. I will
tell you that the rarity which I have brought from the kingdom of
Bisnagar is the carpet on which I sit. It looks but ordinary, and makes
no show, but its virtues are wonderful. Whoever sits on it, and desires
to be transported to any place, be it ever so far distant, is
immediately carried thither. On my return here I made use of no other
conveyance than this wonderful carpet, for which I paid forty purses. I
expect now that you should tell me whether what you have brought is to
be compared with this carpet.”