become popular and fashionable as the world grows older and more
people amass riches. She is sick of being waited on hand and foot and
bowed down to and all that sort of thing. She has never been allowed
to romp as a child, to choose her own companions and the rest of it.
Therefore, she is bored with all the etcetras. The case is
comprehensible and comprehensive: it needs the exercise of imagination
stimulated by prescience, conscience, patience...."
The others yawned and began to collect dictionaries, and fearing that
they might be tempted to fling them at him after they had found the
meaning of his big words, he ceased.
"I agree," said the president of the assembly, the oldest wizard,
"only I diagnose the disease in simpler form. The princess is in
love."
That set them all jabbering together, and they finally agreed to
report to the king that the time had arrived when the princess should
marry, so that she should be able to go away to a new land, amid other
people and different scenes.
The king agreed reluctantly, for he dearly loved his daughter and
wished her to remain with him always if possible. Heralds and
messengers were sent out far and wide, and very soon a procession of
suitors for the princess' hand began to file past the lady. They were
princes of all shapes and sizes, of all complexions and colors; some
were resplendent with jewels, others were followed by retinues of
slaves bearing gifts; a few entered the competition by proxy--that is,
they sent somebody else to see the lady first and pronounce judgment
upon her. These she dismissed summarily, declaring that they were
disqualified by the rules of fair play.
When all the entrants had been inspected by the king, he said to his
daughter:
"Pick the one you love the best, Solima dear."
"None," she answered promptly.
"Dear, dear me--that is very awkward. We shall have to return the
entrance fees--I mean the presents," he said.
That prospect did not seem to worry the princess in the least; nor did
her father's appeal not to belittle him in the eyes of his fellow
monarchs have the slightest effect on her.
"At least," he said, growing impatient, "tell me what you do want."
"I will marry any man," she replied, while he wondered gravely what
else she could have said, "who is not such a fool as to think himself
the only person in the world who is of consequence."
The king was not without wisdom, and he knew that this remark is
foolish, or sensible, according to the mood in which it is said, and
the thoughts behind it.
"You do not regard any one of the princes," the king said gently, "as
worthy of----"
"Any woman," interrupted his daughter. "Listen, my father, you have
tried to make me happy always and until recently you have succeeded. I
wish to obey you in all things, even in the choice of a husband. Would
you really have me marry any one of these fools? Be not angry. Did
any one reveal a gleam of wisdom, or common-sense? Were they not all
just ridiculous fops? Let me enumerate:
"There was Prince Hafiz who talked only of his wars--of the men--aye
and women and children--his soldiers had butchered. The soldiers
fought and Prince Hafiz posed before me as a warrior and hero. I will
not be queen in a land where people cannot live in peace.
"Then there was Prince Aziz who boasted that he spends all his life
with his horses and dogs and falcons in the hunting field. He knows
the needs of beasts, but not of men. I will not be the bride of a
prince who allows his subjects to starve in wretchedness and poverty
while he enjoys himself with the slaughter of wild beasts.
"Prince Guzman had nothing else to impart to me but his taste in
jewels and dress. Prince Abdul knew exactly how many bottles of wine
he drank daily, but he could not tell me how many schools there were
in his city. Prince Hassan had not the slightest notion how the
majority of his people lived, whether by trading, or thieving, or
working, or begging."
King Zuliman listened intently. This was a singular speech for a
princess, but reason told him this was profoundest wisdom.
"Oh, I am tired," burst out Princess Solima, in tears. "I have no
desire for life if to be a ruler over men and women and children means
that you must take no interest in their welfare. My father, hearken. I
will not be queen in a land where the king thinks the people live only
to make him great. I shall be proud and happy to reign where the king
understands that it is his duty to make his people happy and his
country prosperous and peaceful."
The king left his daughter, and, deeply concerned, sought his wizards.
"My daughter has been born thousands of years before her time," he
declared, petulantly. "The stars have played a trick on me, and have
sent me my great-great-great-great ever so much great granddaughter
out of her turn."
The magicians did not laugh at this: they thought it a wonderfully
sage remark, and after much mysterious whispering among themselves and
consultation of old books, and gazing into crystals, they informed the
king that the stars foretold that Princess Solima would marry a poor
man!
They flattered themselves on their cleverness in arriving at this
conclusion, which they deduced from the princess contempt for
princes.
King Zuliman's patience was exhausted by this time. In a towering
rage, he told his daughter what the wizards had said, and when she
merely said, "How nice," he swore he would imprison her in his
fortress in the sea.
His majesty meant it, too, and at once had the fortress, which stood
on a tiny island miles from land, luxuriously furnished and fitted up
for his daughter's reception. Thither she was conveyed secretly one
night, but to her father's disgust she made no protest.
"I shall be free for a while," she said, "of all the absurd flummery
of the palace."
II.
The people were sad when the princess disappeared. She had been good
and kind to them, had understood them, and they did not know whether
she had died, or had deserted them without a word of farewell, though
that was hardly possible. All that they knew was that the king
suddenly became morose and sullen. Strangely enough, he began to take
an interest in the poor. He asked them funny questions--for a king.
How did they earn money? What was their occupation? Had they any
pleasures? And what were their thoughts?
Young people laughed, but old men said the king intended to promote
laws which would do good. Anyway, the king's interest did make his
subjects happier, and the officers of state became very busy with
projects and schemes for improving trade, providing work and for
educating children.
"They do say," remarked one old woman, who kept an apple stall in the
market place, "that a law will be passed that the sun should shine
every day, and that it should never rain on the days of the market.
Ah! that will be good," and she rubbed her hands at the prospect of
not having to crouch under a leaky awning when the rain came pelting
down, or over a tiny fire in a brass bowl in the winter, to thaw her
frozen and benumbed hands.
Even the laborers in the fields, who were mainly dull-witted people
with no learning whatsoever, heard the news; and they actually
pondered over it and wondered whether it meant that they would never
more be hungry and wretchedly clad.
One who thought deeply was a shepherd lad. He loved to bask lazily in
the sun, to listen to the birds chirruping, and to all the sounds of
the air and the fields and the forests. He seemed to understand them;
the murmuring of the brooks on a warm day was like a gentle cradle
song lulling him to sleep; on a day when the wind howled, its sulky
growl as it dashed over the stones warned him that floods might come,
and that he must move his flocks to safer ground.
"I wonder," he mused, "if I shall learn to read the written word and
even to pen it myself. I could then write the song of the brook and
the birds, so that others should know it."
And musing thus, he fell asleep. He slept longer than usual, and when
he awoke, he was alarmed to see that the sun had set. Darkness was
falling fast, and he had his flock to see safely home. The cows and
sheep had begun to collect themselves as a matter of habit, and it was
their noise that woke him. They were already trudging the well-known
route, and all he had to do in following was to see that none strayed,
or tumbled into the brook.
All went well until he came in sight of home. Then a huge bird, a ziz,
bigger than several houses, appeared in the sky and swooped down on
the cows and sheep.
The shepherd beat the monster off as long as he could with a big
stick, while the affrighted animals scampered hastily homeward. The
ziz however, was evidently determined not to be balked of its prey.
It dug its talons deep into the flanks of an ox that had stampeded in
the wrong direction and was lagging behind the others.
The poor animal bellowed in pain, and the shepherd, rushing to the
rescue, seized it by the forelegs as it was being raised from the
ground. Curling his leg round the slender trunk of a tree, the young
man began a struggle with the ziz. The mighty bird, its eyes glowing
like two signal lamps, tried to strike at him with his tremendous
beak, one stroke of which would have been fatal.
In the fast gathering darkness it missed, fortunately for the
shepherd, but the thrust of the beak caught the upper part of the tree
trunk. It snapped under the blow, and the shepherd was compelled to
release his hold. He still gripped tightly the forelegs of the ox, but
with naught now to hold it back, the great bird had no difficulty in
rising into the air. Before he fully grasped what had happened, the
shepherd found himself high above the trees.
To release his hold would have meant destruction. He held on grimly,
clutching the legs of the ox with all his might, and even swinging up
his feet to grip the hind-legs of the animal.
Higher and higher the ziz rose into the air, spreading its vast wings
majestically, and flying silently and swiftly over the land. It made
the shepherd giddy to glance down at the ground scurrying rapidly past
far below him. So he closed his eyes, but opening them again for a
moment, he was horrified to notice that the bird was now flying over
the sea on which the moon was shining with silvery radiance. With a
heavy sigh he gave himself up for lost, and began to consider whether
it would be better to release his hold and fall down and be drowned,
rather than be devoured by the gigantic bird.
Before he could make up his mind, the bird stopped, and the shepherd
was bumped down on something with such violence that for a moment he
was stunned. Looking around, when he regained his senses, he saw that
he was on the top of a tower in the sea. Beside him was the carcass of
the ox. Above them stood the ziz, its eyes glowing like twin fires,
its beak thrust down to strike.
With a quick movement, the shepherd drew a knife which he carried in
his girdle, and struck at the opening of the descending beak. The bird
uttered a shrill cry of pain as the knife pierced its tongue, and in a
few moments it had disappeared in the air. So swift was its flight
that almost instantly it was a mere speck in the moonlit sky.
Thoroughly exhausted, the shepherd slept until awakened by the sound
of a voice. Opening his eyes, he saw that the sun had risen. Above him
stood a woman of ravishing beauty. He sprang to his feet and bowed
low.
"Who are you?" asked Princess Solima, for she it was. "And tell me how
came you here with this carcass of an ox, so distant from the land, so
high up as this tower in the sea?"
"Of a truth I scarcely know," answered the shepherd. "It may be that I
am bewitched, or dreaming, for my adventure passes all belief," and he
related it.
The princess made no comment, but motioned to him that he should
follow her. He did so and she placed food before him. He was
ravenously hungry and did full justice to the meal. Then she led him
to the bath chamber.
"Wash and robe thyself," she said, giving him some clothes, "and then
I have much to inquire of thee."
The shepherd felt ever so much better when he had bathed, and then
attired in the strange garments she had given him, he appeared before
the princess.
She gazed at him so long and searchingly that he blushed in confusion.
"Thou art fair to look upon and of manly stature," said the princess.
The shepherd could only stammer a reply, but after a while he said,
"Fair lady, who and what thou art I know not. Such beauty as thine is
the right of princesses only. I am but a poor shepherd."
"And may not a shepherd be handsome?" she asked. "Tell me: who hath
laid down a law that only royal personages may be fair to behold? I
have seen princes of vile countenance."
She stopped suddenly, for she did not wish to betray her secret. They
sat in a little room in the tower, unknown to the many guards down
below, and, although the shepherd protested, the princess waited on
him herself, bringing him food, and cushions on which he could rest
that night.
Next morning they ascended the tower together.
"I come here every morning," said the princess.
"Why?" the shepherd asked.
"To see if my husband cometh," was the answer.
"Who is he?" asked the shepherd.
The princess laughed.
"I know not," she said. "Some mornings when I have stood here and
grieved at my loneliness, I have felt inclined to make a vow that I
would marry the first man who came hither."
The shepherd was silent. Then he looked boldly into the princess' eyes
and said: "Thou hast told me I am the first man who has come to thee.
I am emboldened to declare my love for thee, a feeling that swept over
me the moment my eyes beheld thee. Who thou art, what thou art, I know
not, I care not. Shall we be husband and wife?"
The princess gave him her hand.
"It is ordained," she said, and thus their troth was plighted.
"We cannot remain here forever," said the princess, presently. "Canst
thou, husband of my heart's choice, devise some means of escape?"
He looked down at the carcass of the ox thoughtfully for a few
moments.
"I have it," he exclaimed, excitedly. "It is a safe assumption that
the monster bird that brought me will return for his meal. He can then
carry us away. If the heavens approve," he said, fervently, "thus it
shall be."
That very night the ziz returned and feasted on the ox, and while it
was fully occupied appeasing its hunger, the shepherd managed to
attach strong ropes to its legs. To this he attached a large basket in
which he and his bride made themselves comfortable with cushions. Nor
did they forget to take a store of food.
Toward morning the ziz rose slowly into the air, and the lovers
clutched each other tightly as the basket spun round and round. The
giant bird did not seem to notice its burden at all, and after a
moment it began a swift flight over the sea. After many hours a city
became visible, and as it was approached the shepherd could note the
excitement caused by the appearance of the ziz. The bird was getting
tired, and having at last noticed the weight tied to its feet was
evidently seeking to get rid of it.
Flying low it dashed the basket against a tower. The occupants feared
they might be killed, but suddenly the cords snapped, the basket
rested on the parapet of the tower, and the bird flew swiftly away.
No sooner had the shepherd extricated himself and his bride from the
basket, than armed guards appeared. At sight of the princess they
lowered their weapons and fell upon their faces.
"Inform my father I have returned," she said, and they immediately
rose to do her bidding.
"Know you where you are?" asked the shepherd.
"Yes; this is the king's palace," was the reply.
Soon the king appeared, and with almost hysterical joy he embraced his
daughter.
"I am happy to see thee again," he cried. "I crave thy pardon for
immuring thee in the sea fortress. Thou shalt tell me all thy
adventures."
Then he caught sight of the shepherd.
"Who is this?" he demanded.
"Thy son-in-law, my husband," said the princess, her joy showing in
her bright eyes.
"What prince art thou?" asked the king.
"A prince among men," answered the princess quickly. "A man without
riches, who comes from the people and will teach us their needs and
how to rule them."
The king bowed to the inevitable. He blessed his son-in-law and
daughter, appointed them to rule over a province, and they settled
down to make everybody thoroughly happy, contented and prosperous.
[Illustration: Then the door slowly opened and a figure in
white stood in the entry. (_Page 286_).]
King Alexander's Adventures
I. THE VISION OF VICTORY
More than two thousand years ago there lived a king in the land of
Macedon who was a great conqueror, and when his son, Alexander, was
born, the soothsayers and the priestesses of the temples predicted
that he would be a greater warrior than his father. Alexander was a
wonderful boy, and his father, King Philip, was very proud of him when
he tamed a spirited horse which nobody else could manage. The wisest
philosophers of the day were Alexander's teachers, and when he was
only sixteen years of age, Philip left him in charge of the country
when he went to subdue Byzantium. Alexander was only twenty when he
ascended the throne, but before then he had suppressed a rebellion and
had proved himself possessed of exceptional daring and courage.
"I shall conquer the whole world," he said, and although he only
reigned thirteen years and died at the age of thirty-three, he
accomplished his ambition. All the countries which were then known had
to acknowledge his supremacy.
King Alexander was a drunkard and very cruel, but he treated the Jews
kindly. When they heard he had been victorious over Darius, king of
Persia, who was their ruler, and that he was marching on Jerusalem,
they became seriously alarmed. Jadua, the high priest, however,
counseled the people to welcome Alexander with great ceremony.
All the priests and the Levites donned their most gorgeous robes, the
populace put on their holiday garb, and the streets of the city were
gaily decorated with many colored banners and garlands of flowers. The
night before Alexander arrived at the head of his army, a long
procession was formed of the priests, the Levites, and the elders of
the city, each carrying a lighted torch. At the gates of the city they
awaited the approach of the mighty warrior.
In the early morning, before the sun had risen, Alexander made his
appearance and was astonished at the magnificent spectacle which met
his gaze. At the head of the procession stood the high priest in his
shining white robes, with the jewels of the ephod glittering on his
breast. To the surprise of his generals, Alexander descended from his
horse and bowed low before the high priest.
"Like unto an angel dost thou appear to me," he said.
"Let thy coming bring peace," replied Jadua.
Parmenio, the chief of Alexander's generals, had promised the soldiers
rich store of plunder in Jerusalem, and he approached the king and
said:
"Wherefore do you honor this priest of the Jews above all men?"
"I will tell thee," answered Alexander. "In dreams have I often seen
this dignified priest. Ever he bade me be of good courage and always
did he predict victory for me. Shall I not then pay homage to my
guardian angel?"
Turning to the priest, he said, "Lead me to your Temple that I may
offer up thanksgiving to the God of my guardian angel."
It was now daylight, and the priests walked in procession before King
Alexander past cheering multitudes of people. At the Temple the king
removed his sandals, but the priests gave him a pair of jeweled
slippers, fearing that he might slip on the pavement. The king was
pleased with all that he saw and desired that a statue of himself, or
a portrait, should be placed in the holy building.
"That may not be," replied the high priest, "but in honor of thy visit
all the boys born in Jerusalem this year shall be named Alexander."
"It is well," said the king, much pleased; "ask of me what you will,
and if it be in my power I shall grant it."
"Mighty monarch," said Jadua, "we desire naught but to be permitted to
serve our God according to our laws. Permit us to practice our
religious observances free and unhindered. Grant also this privilege
to the Jews who dwell in all thy dominions, and we shall ever pray for
thy long life and triumph."
"It is but little that ye ask," replied the king, "and that little is
easily granted."
The people cheered loudly when they heard the good news, and many Jews
enrolled themselves in the army.
Alexander stayed some time in Jerusalem, and messengers arrived from
Canaan to ask him to compel the Jews to restore them their land.
"It is written in the Books of Moses," they said, "that Canaan and its
boundaries belong to the Canaanites."
Gebiah, a hunchback, undertook to answer.
"It is also written in the Books of Moses," he said, "'Cursed be
Canaan; a servant shall he be unto his brethren.' The property of a
slave belongs to his master, therefore Canaan is ours."
Alexander gave the envoys of Canaan three days in which to reply to
this, but they fled from Jerusalem.
Messengers from Egypt came next, asking for the return of the gold and
silver taken by the Israelites from the land of Pharaoh.
"What says Gebiah to this?" asked Alexander.
"We shall return the gold and silver," answered the hunchback, "when
we have been paid for the many, many years of labor of our ancestors
in Egypt."
"Truly a wise answer," said Alexander, and he gave the Egyptians three
days to consider it. But they also fled.
When Alexander left Jerusalem he sought the advice of the wise men of
Israel.
"I desire," he said, "to conquer the land beyond the Mountains of
Darkness in Africa; it is also my wish to fly above the clouds and
behold the heavens, and also to descend into the depths of the sea and
gaze with mine own eyes on the monsters of the deep."
How to accomplish these things he was instructed by the wise men, but
they warned him never to enter Babylon.
"For shouldst thou ever enter the city of Babylon," they said, "thou
wilt assuredly die."
King Alexander thanked them for the advice and the warning, and set
forth on his adventures.
II. THE LAND OF DARKNESS AND THE GATE OF PARADISE
After many days King Alexander came to the Mountains of Darkness.
Acting on the advice of the wise men, he had provided himself with
asses from the land of Libya, for they have the power of seeing in the
dark, and also with a cord of great length. Mounted on the asses, he
and his men plunged into the realms of darkness, unwinding the cord as
they went, so that they might find their way back with it.
Around them was blackest darkness and a silence that inspired the men
with awe. The asses, however, picked their way through the tall trees
that grew so high and so thick that not the least ray of light could
penetrate. How many days they traveled thus they knew not, for day
and night were alike. The men slept when they were tired, ate when
they were hungry and trusted to the asses and the cord.
At last when they emerged into the light they were almost blinded by
the sun, and it was some time before they could see properly. Then, to
their great astonishment, they found that there were no men in the
land, only women, tall and finely proportioned, clothed in skins and
armed with bows and arrows.
"Who are ye?" asked Alexander.
"We are the Amazons, women who are skilled in war and in the art of
hunting," they answered.
"Lead me to your queen," commanded Alexander, "and bid her surrender,
for I am Alexander, the Great, of Macedon, and conqueror of the world.
I fight not by night, for I scorn to steal victories in the dark, and
my men are armed with magic spears of gold and silver and are
therefore invincible."
The queen of the Amazons appeared before him, a beautiful woman, with
long raven hair.
"Greeting to thee, mighty warrior," she said. "Hast thou come to slay
women?"
"Perchance it is you who will triumph over me," replied Alexander.
The queen of the Amazons smiled.
"Then shall it be said of thee," she replied, "that thou wert a
valiant warrior who conquered the world, but was himself conquered by
women. Is that to be your message to history?"
King Alexander was a man of learning and of wisdom, as well as a great
soldier, but the words of the queen of the Amazons were such that he
could not answer. He bowed low before the queen and with a gesture
indicated that he had naught to say.
"Then it is to be peace," said the queen. "At least, before thy
return, let me prepare for thee a banquet."
In a hut made of logs and decorated with skins, a rough wooden table
was placed before Alexander and on it was laid a loaf of gold.
"Do ye eat bread of gold?" asked the king, much surprised.