The enchanted pair wandered sadly from field to field, wondering what
they could do to end their misery. They could not rid themselves of
their birds forms, and it was equally impossible to return to the town
and declare themselves to be the Caliph and his vizier, for who would
have believed a couple of storks, and was it to be supposed the
inhabitants of Bagdad would consent to be ruled by a stork?
And so they crept about for days, sustaining themselves meagrely on
wild fruits, which they were scarcely able to eat on account of their
long beaks, but as yet they had no appetite for lizards and frogs, and
such-like delicacies. Their only relaxation was the pleasure they
found in the use of their wings, for they were able to fly into Bagdad
and watch, from the roofs of the houses, what went on in the city.
At first they noticed great sorrow and unrest, but within four days
all this was changed and, watching from the roof of the Caliph’s
palace, they noticed a magnificent procession winding along in the
street below--drums and fifes sounded, and a man clothed in a scarlet
robe, embroidered with gold, was seated upon a finely-caparisoned
horse, surrounded by a glittering escort. Half the inhabitants of
Bagdad came out to watch the procession, and cried as it passed--“Hail!
Mizra, ruler of Bagdad.”
The two storks looked at each other and the Caliph said--“Can you not
guess now why we have been thus bewitched? Mizra is the son of my
deadly enemy, the powerful magician Kaschnur, who once in an evil
moment swore revenge against me. But we will not despair; come, my
faithful comrade, we will seek the grave of our great prophet, and
perchance in that holy spot we shall be freed from the enchantment.”
[Illustration: _They had no appetite for lizards and frogs._
(P. 16.)]
So they left the palace roof and flew towards Medina.
But they had had so little practice in flying that they soon grew
weary. “Oh! sire!” groaned the vizier, after a couple of hours, “with
your permission I must rest for awhile, you fly too quickly for me.
It is already evening, and would it not be as well to seek shelter for
the night?”
Chasid agreed to his companion’s request, and as he saw a ruin in the
valley beneath, which promised to afford a roof to cover them, they
flew down to it. The place seemed to have been at one time a castle.
Beautiful pillars raised themselves in the dilapidated apartments,
which still retained evidences of their former splendour.
Chasid and Mansor wandered through the corridors, seeking for a dry
spot suitable for a resting place, when suddenly Mansor stood still.
“My lord and master,” he whispered softly, “ridiculous as it may
appear for a vizier, not to mention a stork, to be afraid of ghosts,
there is no doubt I feel an uncomfortable sensation of fright, for can
you not hear a weird groaning and sobbing noise close at hand?”
The Caliph listened and heard the unmistakable sound of human weeping.
Anxious to solve the mystery he hastened towards the spot from which
the sound proceeded.
The vizier seized him by the wing and begged him earnestly not to
place himself in the way of fresh danger, but the Caliph carried a
brave heart beneath his stork’s feathers and, disengaging himself from
his companion, though with the loss of some feathers, he hurried along
the dark corridor.
Presently he came to a door which was closed, but not fastened, and
from behind which he distinctly heard the sound of sighing and
weeping. He pushed the door open with his beak and stood astounded
upon the threshold. In a ruined chamber, lighted only by the rays of
the moon, which streamed through a little casement window, he saw a
large owl. Tears streamed from her great brown eyes, and with hoarse
screeching voice she bemoaned her sorrows, but no sooner did she
perceive the Caliph and his vizier than she uttered a cry of joy;
daintily wiping the tears from her eyes with her brown-tinted wings,
she spoke to them, to their utter astonishment, in excellent Arabic--
[Illustration: _He bowed his long neck._ (P. 20.)]
“Welcome, O ye storks,” she cried, “you come to me as tokens of my
deliverance, for it was once prophesied to me that great good fortune
would befall me through the intervention of two storks.”
As soon as the Caliph had recovered from his astonishment, he brought
his thin feet together and bowed his long neck in an elegant attitude.
“Owl,” said he, “after what you have said, may I consider myself to be
in the presence of a companion in distress? But alas! your hopes that
we may be able to assist you are in vain. You will recognise our
helplessness when you have heard our story.”
The owl begged him to recount it, and the Caliph made her acquainted
with all that had befallen them.