After a little while the two travellers arrived at a big village,
where the young man gave his companion a clasp-knife, and said, "Take
this, friend, and get two horses with it; but mind and bring it back,
for it is very precious."
The old man, looking half amused and half angry, pushed back the
knife, muttering something to the effect that his friend was either a
fool himself or else trying to play the fool with him. The young man
pretended not to notice his reply, and remained almost silent till
they reached the city, a short distance outside which was the old
farmer's house. They walked about the bazaar and went to the mosque,
but nobody saluted them or invited them to come in and rest.
"What a large cemetery!" exclaimed the young man.
"What does the man mean," thought the old farmer, "calling this
largely populated city a cemetery?"
On leaving the city their way led through a cemetery where a few
people were praying beside a grave and distributing chapatis and
kulchas to passers-by, in the name of their beloved dead. They
beckoned to the two travellers and gave them as much as they would.
"What a splendid city this is!" said the young man.
"Now, the man must surely be demented!" thought the old farmer. "I
wonder what he will do next? He will be calling the land water, and
the water land; and be speaking of light where there is darkness, and
of darkness when it is light." However, he kept his thoughts to
himself.
Presently they had to wade through a stream that ran along the edge of
the cemetery. The water was rather deep, so the old farmer took off
his shoes and paijamas and crossed over; but the young man waded
through it with his shoes and paijamas on.
"Well! I never did see such a perfect fool, both in word and in deed,"
said the old man to himself.
However, he liked the fellow; and thinking that he would amuse his
wife and daughter, he invited him to come and stay at his house as
long as he had occasion to remain in the village.
"Thank you very much," the young man replied; "but let me first
inquire, if you please, whether the beam of your house is strong."
The old farmer left him in despair, and entered his house laughing.
"There is a man in yonder field," he said, after returning their
greetings. "He has come the greater part of the way with me, and I
wanted him to put up here as long as he had to stay in this village.
But the fellow is such a fool that I cannot make anything out of him.
He wants to know if the beam of this house is all right. The man must
be mad!" and saying this, he burst into a fit of laughter.
"Father," said the farmer's daughter, who was a very sharp and wise
girl, "this man, whosoever he is, is no fool, as you deem him. He only
wishes to know if you can afford to entertain him."
"Oh! of course," replied the farmer. "I see. Well perhaps you can help
me to solve some of his other mysteries. While we were walking
together he asked whether he should carry me or I should carry him, as
he thought that would be a pleasanter mode of proceeding."
"Most assuredly," said the girl. "He meant that one of you should tell
a story to beguile the time."
"Oh yes. Well, we were passing through a corn-field, when he asked me
whether it was eaten or not."
"And didn't you know the meaning of this, father? He simply wished to
know if the man was in debt or not; because, if the owner of the field
was in debt, then the produce of the field was as good as eaten to
him; that is, it would have to go to his creditors."
"Yes, yes, yes; of course! Then, on entering a certain village, he
bade me take his clasp knife and get two horses with it, and bring
back the knife again to him."
"Are not two stout sticks as good as two horses for helping one along
on the road? He only asked you to cut a couple of sticks and be
careful not to lose his knife."
"I see," said the farmer. "While we were walking over the city we did
not see anybody that we knew, and not a soul gave us a scrap of
anything to eat, till we were passing the cemetery; but there some
people called to us and put into our hands some chapatis and kulchas;
so my companion called the city a cemetery, and the cemetery a city."
"This also is to be understood, father, if one thinks of the city as
the place where everything is to be obtained, and of inhospitable
people as worse than the dead. The city, though crowded with people,
was as if dead, as far as you were concerned; while, in the cemetery,
which is crowded with the dead, you were saluted by kind friends and
provided with bread."
"True, true!" said the astonished farmer. "Then, just now, when we
were crossing the stream, he waded through it without taking off his
shoes and paijamas."
"I admire his wisdom," replied the girl. "I have often thought how
stupid people were to venture into that swiftly flowing stream and
over those sharp stones with bare feet. The slightest stumble and they
would fall, and be wetted from head to foot. This friend of yours is a
most wise man. I should like to see him and speak to him."
"Very well," said the farmer; "I will go and find him, and bring him
in."
"Tell him, father, that our beams are strong enough, and then he will
come in. I'll send on ahead a present to the man, to show him that we
can afford to have him for our guest."
Accordingly she called a servant and sent him to the young man with a
present of a basin of ghee, twelve chapatis, and a jar of milk, and
the following message:--"O friend, the moon is full; twelve months
make a year, and the sea is overflowing with water."
Half-way the bearer of this present and message met his little son,
who, seeing what was in the basket, begged his father to give him some
of the food. His father foolishly complied. Presently he saw the young
man, and gave him the rest of the present and the message.
"Give your mistress my salam," he replied, "and tell her that the moon
is new, and that I can only find eleven months in the year, and the
sea is by no means full."
Not understanding the meaning of these words, the servant repeated
them word for word, as he had heard them, to his mistress; and thus
his theft was discovered, and he was severely punished. After a little
while the young man appeared with the old farmer. Great attention was
shown to him, and he was treated in every way as if he were the son of
a great man, although his humble host knew nothing of his origin. At
length he told them everything--about the laughing of the fish, his
father's threatened execution, and his own banishment--and asked their
advice as to what he should do.
"The laughing of the fish," said the girl, "which seems to have been
the cause of all this trouble, indicates that there is a man in the
palace who is plotting against the king's life."
"Joy, joy!" exclaimed the vizier's son. "There is yet time for me to
return and save my father from an ignominious and unjust death, and
the king from danger."
The following day he hastened back to his own country, taking with him
the farmer's daughter. Immediately on arrival he ran to the palace and
informed his father of what he had heard. The poor vizier, now almost
dead from the expectation of death, was at once carried to the king,
to whom he repeated the news that his son had just brought.
"Never!" said the king.
"But it must be so, Your Majesty," replied the vizier; "and in order
to prove the truth of what I have heard, I pray you to call together
all the maids in your palace, and order them to jump over a pit,
which must be dug. We'll soon find out whether there is any man
there."
[Illustration:]
The king had the pit dug, and commanded all the maids belonging to the
palace to try to jump it. All of them tried, but only one succeeded.
That one was found to be a man!!
Thus was the queen satisfied, and the faithful old vizier saved.
Afterwards, as soon as could be, the vizier's son married the old
farmer's daughter; and a most happy marriage it was.