There is a dreadful place in Persia called the "Valley of the Angel of
Death." That terrific minister of God's wrath, according to tradition,
has resting-places upon the earth and his favourite abodes. He is
surrounded by ghools, horrid beings who, when he takes away life,
feast upon the carcasses.
The natural shape of these monsters is terrible; but they can assume
those of animals, such as cows or camels, or whatever they choose,
often appearing to men as their relations or friends, and then they do
not only transform their shapes, but their voices also are altered.
The frightful screams and yells which are often heard amid these
dreaded ravines are changed for the softest and most melodious notes.
Unwary travellers, deluded by the appearance of friends, or captivated
by the forms and charmed by the music of these demons, are allured
from their path, and after feasting for a few hours on every luxury,
are consigned to destruction.
The number of these ghools has greatly decreased since the birth of
the Prophet, and they have no power to hurt those who pronounce his
name in sincerity of faith. These creatures are the very lowest of the
supernatural world, and, besides being timid, are extremely stupid,
and consequently often imposed upon by artful men.
The natives of Isfahan, though not brave, are the most crafty and
acute people upon earth, and often supply the want of courage by their
address. An inhabitant of that city was once compelled to travel alone
at night through this dreadful valley. He was a man of ready wit, and
fond of adventures, and, though no lion, had great confidence in his
cunning, which had brought him through a hundred scrapes and perils
that would have embarrassed or destroyed your simple man of valour.
This man, whose name was Ameen Beg, had heard many stories of the
ghools of the "Valley of the Angel of Death," and thought it likely he
might meet one. He prepared accordingly, by putting an egg and a lump
of salt in his pocket. He had not gone far amidst the rocks, when he
heard a voice crying, "Holloa, Ameen Beg Isfahanee! you are going the
wrong road, you will lose yourself; come this way. I am your friend
Kerreem Beg; I know your father, old Kerbela Beg, and the street in
which you were born." Ameen knew well the power the ghools had of
assuming the shape of any person they choose; and he also knew their
skill as genealogists, and their knowledge of towns as well as
families; he had therefore little doubt this was one of those
creatures alluring him to destruction. He, however, determined to
encounter him, and trust to his art for his escape.
"Stop, my friend, till I come near you," was his reply. When Ameen
came close to the ghool, he said, "You are not my friend Kerreem; you
are a lying demon, but you are just the being I desired to meet. I
have tried my strength against all the men and all the beasts which
exist in the natural world, and I can find nothing that is a match for
me. I came therefore to this valley in the hope of encountering a
ghool, that I might prove my prowess upon him."
The ghool, astonished at being addressed in this manner, looked keenly
at him, and said, "Son of Adam, you do not appear so strong."
"Appearances are deceitful," replied Ameen, "but I will give you a
proof of my strength. There," said he, picking up a stone from a
rivulet, "this contains a fluid; try if you can so squeeze it that it
will flow out." The ghool took the stone, but, after a short attempt,
returned it, saying, "The thing is impossible." "Quite easy," said the
Isfahanee, taking the stone and placing it in the hand in which he had
before put the egg. "Look there!" And the astonished ghool, while he
heard what he took for the breaking of the stone, saw the liquid run
from between Ameen's fingers, and this apparently without any effort.
Ameen, aided by the darkness, placed the stone upon the ground while
he picked up another of a darker hue. "This," said he, "I can see
contains salt, as you will find if you can crumble it between your
fingers;" but the ghool, looking at it, confessed he had neither
knowledge to discover its qualities nor strength to break it. "Give it
me," said his companion impatiently; and, having put it into the same
hand with the piece of salt, he instantly gave the latter all crushed
to the ghool, who, seeing it reduced to powder, tasted it, and
remained in stupid astonishment at the skill and strength of this
wonderful man. Neither was he without alarm lest his strength should
be exerted against himself, and he saw no safety in resorting to the
shape of a beast, for Ameen had warned him that if he commenced any
such unfair dealing, he would instantly slay him; for ghools, though
long-lived, are not immortal.
Under such circumstances he thought his best plan was to conciliate
the friendship of his new companion till he found an opportunity of
destroying him.
"Most wonderful man," he said, "will you honour my abode with your
presence? it is quite at hand; there you will find every refreshment;
and after a comfortable night's rest you can resume your journey."
"I have no objection, friend ghool, to accept your offer; but, mark
me, I am, in the first place, very passionate, and must not be
provoked by any expressions which are in the least disrespectful; and,
in the second, I am full of penetration, and can see through your
designs as clearly as I saw into that hard stone in which I discovered
salt. So take care you entertain none that are wicked, or you shall
suffer."
The ghool declared that the ear of his guest should be pained by no
expression to which it did not befit his dignity to listen; and he
swore by the head of his liege lord, the Angel of Death, that he would
faithfully respect the rights of hospitality and friendship.
Thus satisfied, Ameen followed the ghool through a number of crooked
paths, rugged cliffs, and deep ravines, till they came to a large
cave, which was dimly lighted. "Here," said the ghool, "I dwell, and
here my friend will find all he can want for refreshment and repose."
So saying, he led him to various apartments, in which were hoarded
every species of grain, and all kinds of merchandise, plundered from
travellers who had been deluded to this den, and of whose fate Ameen
was too well informed by the bones over which he now and then
stumbled, and by the putrid smell produced by some half-consumed
carcasses.
"This will be sufficient for your supper, I hope," said the ghool,
taking up a large bag of rice; "a man of your prowess must have a
tolerable appetite." "True," said Ameen, "but I ate a sheep and as
much rice as you have there before I proceeded on my journey. I am,
consequently, not hungry, but will take a little lest I offend your
hospitality." "I must boil it for you," said the demon; "you do not
eat grain and meat raw, as we do. Here is a kettle," said he, taking
up one lying amongst the plundered property. "I will go and get wood
for a fire, while you fetch water with that," pointing to a bag made
of the hides of six oxen.
Ameen waited till he saw his host leave the cave for the wood, and
then with great difficulty he dragged the enormous bag to the bank of
a dark stream, which issued from the rocks at the other end of the
cavern, and, after being visible for a few yards, disappeared
underground.
"How shall I," thought Ameen, "prevent my weakness being discovered?
This bag I could hardly manage when empty; when full, it would require
twenty strong men to carry it; what shall I do? I shall certainly be
eaten up by this cannibal ghool, who is now only kept in order by the
impression of my great strength." After some minutes' reflection the
Isfahanee thought of a scheme, and began digging a small channel from
the stream towards the place where his supper was preparing.
"What are you doing?" vociferated the ghool, as he advanced towards
him; "I sent you for water to boil a little rice, and you have been an
hour about it. Cannot you fill the bag and bring it away?" "Certainly
I can," said Ameen; "if I were content, after all your kindness, to
show my gratitude merely by feats of brute strength, I could lift your
stream if you had a bag large enough to hold it. But here," said he,
pointing to the channel he had begun,--"here is the commencement of a
work in which the mind of a man is employed to lessen the labour of
his body. This canal, small as it may appear, will carry a stream to
the other end of the cave, in which I will construct a dam that you
can open and shut at pleasure, and thereby save yourself infinite
trouble in fetching water. But pray let me alone till it is finished,"
and he began to dig. "Nonsense!" said the ghool, seizing the bag and
filling it; "I will carry the water myself, and I advise you to leave
off your canal, as you call it, and follow me, that you may eat your
supper and go to sleep; you may finish this fine work, if you like it,
to-morrow morning."
Ameen congratulated himself on this escape, and was not slow in taking
the advice of his host. After having ate heartily of the supper that
was prepared, he went to repose on a bed made of the richest coverlets
and pillows, which were taken from one of the store-rooms of plundered
goods. The ghool, whose bed was also in the cave, had no sooner laid
down than he fell into a sound sleep. The anxiety of Ameen's mind
prevented him from following his example; he rose gently, and having
stuffed a long pillow into the middle of his bed, to make it appear as
if he was still there, he retired to a concealed place in the cavern
to watch the proceedings of the ghool. The latter awoke a short time
before daylight, and rising, went, without making any noise, towards
Ameen's bed, where, not observing the least stir, he was satisfied
that his guest was in a deep sleep; so he took up one of his
walking-sticks, which was in size like the trunk of a tree, and struck
a terrible blow at what he supposed to be Ameen's head. He smiled not
to hear a groan, thinking he had deprived him of life; but to make
sure of his work, he repeated the blow seven times. He then returned
to rest, but had hardly settled himself to sleep, when Ameen, who had
crept into the bed, raised his head above the clothes and exclaimed,
"Friend ghool, what insect could it be that has disturbed me by its
tapping? I counted the flap of its little wings seven times on the
coverlet. These vermin are very annoying, for, though they cannot hurt
a man, they disturb his rest!"
The ghool's dismay on hearing Ameen speak at all was great, but that
was increased to perfect fright when he heard him describe seven
blows, any one of which would have felled an elephant, as seven flaps
of an insect's wing. There was no safety, he thought, near so
wonderful a man, and he soon afterwards arose and fled from the cave,
leaving the Isfahanee its sole master.
When Ameen found his host gone, he was at no loss to conjecture the
cause, and immediately began to survey the treasures with which he was
surrounded, and to contrive means for removing them to his home.
After examining the contents of the cave, and arming himself with a
matchlock, which had belonged to some victim of the ghool, he
proceeded to survey the road. He had, however, only gone a short
distance when he saw the ghool returning with a large club in his
hand, and accompanied by a fox. Ameen's knowledge of the cunning
animal instantly led him to suspect that it had undeceived his enemy,
but his presence of mind did not forsake him. "Take that," said he to
the fox, aiming a ball at him from his matchlock, and shooting him
through the head,--"Take that for your not performing my orders. That
brute," said he, "promised to bring me seven ghools, that I might
chain them, and carry them to Isfahan, and here he has only brought
you, who are already my slave." So saying, he advanced towards the
ghool; but the latter had already taken to flight, and by the aid of
his club bounded so rapidly over rocks and precipices that he was soon
out of sight.
Ameen having well marked the path from the cavern to the road, went
to the nearest town and hired camels and mules to remove the property
he had acquired. After making restitution to all who remained alive to
prove their goods, he became, from what was unclaimed, a man of
wealth, all of which was owing to that wit and art which ever overcome
brute strength and courage.