like to have a piece of liver, so she gave a girl two or three pence,
and bade her buy the liver in the market-place, wash it clean in the
pond, and then bring it home. So the girl went to the market-place,
bought the liver, and took it to the pond to wash it; and while she was
washing it a stork popped down, snatched the liver out of her hand, and
flew away with it. Then the girl cried: “Stork, stork! give me back my
liver, that I may take it to my mammy, lest my mammy beat me!”--“If thou
wilt fetch me a barley-ear instead of it, I’ll give thee back thy
liver,” said the stork. So the girl went to the straw-stalk, and said:
“Straw-stalk, straw-stalk! give me a barley-ear, that I may give the
barley-ear to the stork, that the stork may give me back my liver, that
I may give the liver to my mammy.”--“If thou wilt pray Allah for rain,
thou shalt have a little barley-ear,” said the straw-stalk. But while
she was beginning her prayer, saying: “Oh, Allah, give me rain, that I
may give the rain to the straw-stalk, that the straw-stalk may give me a
barley-ear, that I may give the barley-ear to the stork, that the stork
may give me back my liver, that I may give the liver to my mammy,” while
she was praying thus, up came a man to her and said that without a
censer no prayers could ever get to heaven, so she must go to the
bazaar-keeper for a censer.
So she went to the bazaar-keeper, and cried: “Bazaar-keeper,
bazaar-keeper! give me a censer, that I may burn incense before Allah,
that Allah may give me rain, that I may give rain to the straw-stalk,
that the straw-stalk may give me a barley-ear, that I may give the
barley-ear to the stork, that the stork may give me back my liver, that
I may give my liver to my mammy!”
“I’ll give it thee,” said the bazaar-keeper, “if thou wilt bring me a
boot from the cobbler.”
So the girl went to the cobbler, and said to him: “Cobbler, cobbler!
give me a boot, that I may give the boot to the bazaar-keeper, that the
bazaar-keeper may give me a censer, that I may burn incense before
Allah, that Allah may give me rain, that I may give rain to the
straw-stalk, that the straw-stalk may give me a barley-ear, that I may
give the barley-ear to the stork, that the stork may give me back the
liver, that I may give the liver to my mammy.”
But the cobbler said: “If thou fetch me a hide thou shalt have a boot
for it.”
So the girl went to the tanner, and said: “Tanner, tanner! give me a
hide, that I may give the hide to the cobbler, that the cobbler may give
me a boot, that I may give the boot to the bazaar-keeper, that the
bazaar-keeper may give me a censer, that I may burn incense before
Allah, that Allah may give me rain, that I may give the rain to the
straw-stalk, that the straw-stalk may give me a barley-ear, that I may
give the barley-ear to the stork, that the stork may give me back my
liver, that I may give the liver to my mammy.”
“If thou gettest a hide from the ox, thou wilt get a hide fit for making
a boot,” said the tanner.
So the girl went to the ox, and said to it: “Ox, ox! give me a hide,
that I may give the hide to the tanner, that the tanner may give me
boot-leather, that I may give the boot-leather to the cobbler, that the
cobbler may give me a boot, that I may give the boot to the
bazaar-keeper, that the bazaar-keeper may give me a censer, that I may
burn incense before Allah, that Allah may give me rain, that I may give
the rain to the straw-stalk, that the straw-stalk may give me a
barley-ear, that I may give the barley-ear to the stork, that the stork
may give me back my liver, that I may give the liver to my mammy.”
The ox said: “If thou get me straw I’ll give thee a hide for it!”
So the girl went to the farmer, and said to him: “Farmer, farmer! give
me straw, that I may give the straw to the ox, that the ox may give me a
hide, that I may give the hide to the tanner, that the tanner may give
me shoe-leather, that I may give the shoe-leather to the cobbler, that
the cobbler may give me a shoe, that I may give the shoe to the
bazaar-keeper, that the bazaar-keeper may give me a censer, that I may
burn incense before Allah, that Allah may give me rain, that I may give
rain to the straw-stalk, that the straw-stalk may give me a barley-ear,
that I may give the barley-ear to the stork, that the stork may give me
back my liver, that I may give the liver to my mammy.”
The farmer said to the girl: “I’ll give thee the straw if thou give me a
kiss.”
“Well,” thought the girl to herself, “a kiss is but a little matter if
it free me from all this bother.” So she went up to the farmer and
kissed him, and the farmer gave her straw for the kiss. She took the
straw to the ox, and the ox gave her a hide for the straw. She took the
hide to the tanner, and the tanner gave her shoe-leather. She took the
shoe-leather to the cobbler, and the cobbler gave her a shoe for it. She
took the shoe to the bazaar-keeper, and the bazaar-keeper gave her a
censer. She lit the censer and cried: “Oh, Allah! give me rain, that I
may give the rain to the straw-stalk, that the straw-stalk may give me a
barley-ear, that I may give the barley-ear to the stork, that the stork
may give me back my liver, that I may give the liver to my mammy.” Then
Allah gave her rain, and she gave the rain to the straw-stalk, and the
straw-stalk gave her a barley-ear, and she gave the barley-ear to the
stork, and the stork gave her back her liver, and she gave the liver to
her mammy, and her mammy cooked the liver and ate it.
THE MAGIC TURBAN, THE MAGIC WHIP, AND THE MAGIC CARPET
Once upon a time that was no time there were two brothers. Their father
and mother had died and divided all their property between them. The
elder brother opened a shop, but the younger brother, who was but a
feather-brain, idled about and did nothing; so that at last, what with
eating and drinking and gadding abroad, the day came when he had no more
money left. Then he went to his elder brother and begged a copper or two
of him, and when that all was spent he came to him again, and so he
continued to live upon him.
At last the elder brother began to grow tired of this waste, but seeing
that he could not be quit of his younger brother, he turned all his
possessions into sequins, and embarked on a ship in order to go into
another kingdom. The younger brother, however, had got wind of it, and
before the ship started he managed to creep on board and conceal
himself without any one observing him. The elder brother suspected that
if the younger one heard of his departure he would be sure to follow
after, so he took good care not to show himself on deck. But scarcely
had they unfurled the sails when the two brothers came face to face, and
the elder brother found himself saddled with his younger brother again.
The elder brother was not a little angry, but what was the use of
that!--for the ship did not stop till it came to Egypt. There the elder
brother said to the younger brother: “Thou stay here, and I will go and
get two mules that we may go on further.” The youth sat down on the
shore and waited for his brother, and waited, but waited in vain. “I
think I had better look for him,” thought he, and up he got and went
after his elder brother.
He went on and on and on, he went a short distance and he went a long
distance, six months was he crossing a field; but once as he looked over
his shoulder, he saw that for all his walking he walked no further than
a barley-stalk reaches. Then he strode still more, he strode still
further, he strode for half a year continuously; he kept plucking
violets as he went along, and as he went striding, striding, his feet
struck upon a hill, and there he saw three youths quarrelling with one
another about something. He soon made a fourth, and asked them what they
were tussling about.
“We are the children of one father,” said the youngest of them, “and our
father has just died and left us, by way of inheritance, a turban, a
whip, and a carpet. Whoever puts the turban on his head is hidden from
mortal eyes. Whoever extends himself on the carpet and strikes it once
with the whip can fly far away, after the manner of birds; and we are
eternally quarrelling among ourselves as to whose shall be the turban,
whose the whip, and whose the carpet.”
“All three of them must belong to one of us,” cried they all. “They are
mine, because I am the biggest,” said one.--“They are mine by right,
because I am the middling-sized brother,” cried the second.--“They are
mine, because I am the smallest,” cried the third. From words they
speedily came to blows, so that it was as much as the youth could do to
keep them apart.
“You can’t settle it like that,” said he; “I’ll tell you what we’ll do.
I’ll make an arrow from this little piece of wood, and shoot it off. You
run after it, and he who brings it to me here soonest shall have all
three things.” Away flew the dart, and after it pelted the three
brothers, helter-skelter; but the wise youth knew a trick worth two of
that, for he stuck the turban on his head, sat down on the carpet,
tapped it once with the whip, and cried: “Hipp--hopp! let me be where my
elder brother is!” and when he awoke a large city lay before him.
He had scarce taken more than a couple of steps through the street, when
the Padishah’s herald came along, and proclaimed to the inhabitants of
the town that the Sultan’s daughter disappeared every night from the
palace. Whoever could find out what became of her should receive the
damsel and half the kingdom. “Here am I!” cried the youth, “lead me to
the Padishah, and if I don’t find out, let them take my head!”
So they brought the fool into the palace, and in the evening there lay
the Sultan’s daughter watching, with her eyes half-closed, all that was
going on. The damsel was only waiting for him to go to sleep, and
presently she stuck a needle into her heel, took the candle with her,
lest the youth should awake, and went out by a side door.
The youth had his turban on his head in a trice, and no sooner had he
popped out of the same door than he saw a black efrit standing there
with a golden buckler on his head, and on the buckler sat the Sultan’s
daughter, and they were just on the point of starting off. The lad was
not such a fool as to fancy that he could keep up with them by himself,
so he also leaped on to the buckler, and very nearly upset the pair of
them in consequence. The efrit was alarmed, and asked the damsel in
Allah’s name what she was about, as they were within a hair’s-breadth of
falling. “I never moved,” said the damsel; “I am sitting on the buckler
just as you put me there.”
The black efrit had scarcely taken a couple of steps, when he felt that
the buckler was unusually heavy. The youth’s turban naturally made him
invisible, so the efrit turned to the damsel and said: “My Sultana, thou
art so heavy to-day that I all but break down beneath thee!”--“Darling
Lala!” replied the girl, “thou art very odd to-night, for I am neither
bigger nor smaller than I was yesterday.”
Shaking his head the black efrit pursued his way, and they went on and
on till they came to a wondrously beautiful garden, where the trees were
made of nothing but silver and diamonds. The youth broke off a twig and
put it in his pocket, when straightway the trees began to sigh and weep
and say: “There’s a child of man here who tortures us! there’s a child
of man here who tortures us!”
The efrit and the damsel looked at each other. “They sent a youth in to
me to-day,” said the damsel, “maybe his soul is pursuing us.”
Then they went on still further, till they came to another garden, where
every tree was sparkling with gold and precious stones. Here too the
youth broke off a twig and shoved it into his pocket, and immediately
the earth and the sky shook, and the rustling of the trees said:
“There’s a child of man here torturing us, there’s a child of man here
torturing us,” so that both he and the damsel very nearly fell from the
buckler in their fright. Not even the efrit knew what to make of it.
After that they came to a bridge, and beyond the bridge was a fairy
palace, and there an army of slaves awaited the damsel, and with their
hands straight down by their sides they bowed down before her till their
foreheads touched the ground. The Sultan’s daughter dismounted from the
efrit’s head, the youth also leaped down; and when they brought the
princess a pair of slippers covered with diamonds and precious stones,
the youth snatched one of them away, and put it in his pocket. The girl
put on one of the slippers, but being unable to find the other, sent for
another pair, when, presto! one of these also disappeared. At this the
damsel was so annoyed that she walked on without slippers; but the
youth, with the turban on his head and the whip and the carpet in his
hand, followed her everywhere like her shadow. So the damsel went on
before, and he followed her into a room, and there he saw the black
Peri, one of whose lips touched the sky, while the other lip swept the
ground. He angrily asked the damsel where she had been all the time, and
why she hadn’t come sooner. The damsel told him about the youth who had
arrived the evening before, and about what had happened on the way, but
the Peri comforted her by saying that the whole thing was fancy, and she
was not to trouble herself about it any more. After that he sat down
with the damsel, and ordered a slave to bring them sherbet. A black
slave brought the noble drink in a lovely diamond cup, but just as he
was handing it to the Sultan’s daughter the invisible youth gave the
hand of the slave such a wrench that he dropped and broke the cup to
pieces. A piece of this also the youth concealed in his pocket.
“Now didn’t I say that something was wrong?” cried the Sultan’s
daughter. “I want no sherbet nor anything else, and I think I had better
get back again as soon as possible.”--“Tush! tush!” said the efrit, and
he ordered other slaves to bring them something to eat. So they brought
a little table covered with many dishes, and they began to eat together;
whereupon the hungry youth also set to work, and the viands disappeared
as if three were eating instead of two.
And the black Peri himself began to be a little impatient, when not only
the food but also the forks and spoons began to disappear, and he said
to his sweetheart, the Sultan’s daughter, that perhaps it would be as
well if she did make haste home again. First of all the black efrit
wanted to kiss the girl, but the youth slipped in between them, pulled
them asunder, and one of them fell to the right and the other to the
left. They both turned pale, called the Lala with his buckler, the
damsel sat upon it, and away they went. But the youth took down a sword
from the wall, bared his arm, and with one blow he chopped off the head
of the black Peri. No sooner had his head rolled from his shoulders than
the heavens roared so terribly, and the earth groaned so horribly, and a
voice cried so mightily: “Woe to us, a child of man hath slain our
king!” that the terrified youth knew not whether he stood on his head or
his heels.
He seized his carpet, sat upon it, gave it one blow with his whip, and
when the Sultan’s daughter returned to the palace, there she found the
youth snoring in his room. “Oh, thou wretched bald-pate,” cried the
damsel viciously, “what a night I’ve had of it. So much the worse for
thee!” Then she took out a needle and pricked the youth in the heel, and
because he never stirred she fancied he was asleep, and lay down to
sleep herself also.
Next morning when she awoke she bade the youth prepare for death, as his
last hour had come. “Nay,” replied he, “not to thee do I owe an account
of myself; let us both come before the Padishah.”
Then they led him before the father of the damsel, but he said he would
only tell them what had happened in the night if they called all the
people of the town together. “In that way I shall find my brother,
perhaps,” thought he. So the town-crier called all the people together,
and the youth stood on a high daïs beside the Padishah and the Sultana,
and began to tell them the whole story, from the efrit’s buckler to the
Peri king. “Believe him not, my lord Padishah and father; he lies, my
lord father and Padishah!” stammered the damsel; whereupon the youth
drew from his pocket the diamond twig, the twig of gems, the golden
slipper, the precious spoons and forks. Then he went on to tell them of
the death of the black Peri, when all at once he caught sight of his
elder brother, whom he had been searching for so long. He had now
neither eyes nor ears for anything else, but leaping off the daïs, he
forced his way on and on through the crowd to his brother, till they
both came together.
Then the elder brother told _their_ story, while the younger brother
begged the Padishah to give his daughter and half the kingdom to his
elder brother. He was quite content, he said, with the magic turban and
the magic whip and carpet to the day of his death, if only he might live
close to his elder brother.
But the Sultan’s daughter rejoiced most of all when she heard of the
death of the Peri king. He had carried her off by force from her room
one day, and so enchanted her with his power that she had been unable to
set herself free. In her joy she agreed that the youth’s elder brother
should be her lord; and they made a great banquet, at which they feasted
forty days and forty nights with one another. I also was there, and I
begged so much pilaw[11] from the cook, and I got so much in the palm of
my hand, that I limp to this day.
THE WIND-DEMON
There was once upon a time an old Padishah who had three sons and three
daughters. One day the old man fell ill, and though they called all the
leeches together to help him, his disease would not take a turn for the
better. “I already belong to Death,” he thought, and calling to him his
sons and daughters, he thus addressed them: “If I die, he among you
shall be Padishah who watches three nights at my tomb. As for my
daughters, I give them to him who first comes to woo them.” And with
that he died, and was buried as became a Padishah.
Now as the realm could have a Padishah in no other way, the eldest son
went to his father’s tomb and sat there for half the night, said his
prayers upon his carpet, and awaited the dawn. But all at once a
horrible din arose in the midst of the darkness, and so frightened was
he that he snatched up his slippers and never stopped till he got home.
The next night the middling son also went out to the tomb, and he also
sat there for half the night, but no sooner did he hear the great din
than he too caught up his slippers and hurried off homewards. So it now
came to the turn of the third and youngest son.
The third son took his sword, stuck it in his girdle, and went off to
the tomb. Sure enough, when he had sat there till midnight, he heard the
horrible din, and so horrible was it that the very earth trembled. The
youth pulled himself together, went straight towards the spot from
whence the noise came loudest, and behold! right in front of him stood a
huge dragon. Drawing his sword, the youth fell upon the dragon so
furiously that at last the monster had scarcely strength enough left to
say: “If thou art a man, put thy heel upon me and strike me with thy
sword but once more!”
“Not I,” cried the King’s son, “my mother only bore me into the world
once,” whereupon the dragon yielded up its filthy soul. The King’s son
would have cut off the beast’s ears and nose, but he could not see very
well in the dark, and began groping about for them, when all at once he
saw afar off a little shining light. He went straight towards it, and
there in the midst of the brightness he saw an old man. Two globes were
in his hand, one black and the other white; the black globe he was
turning round and round, and from the white globe proceeded the light.
“What art thou doing, old father?” asked the King’s son.
“Alas! my son,” replied the old man, “my business is my bane, I hold
fast the nights and let go the days.”--“Alas! my father,” replied the
King’s son, “my task is even greater than thine.” With that he tied
together the old man’s arms, so that he might not let go the days, and
went on still further to seek the light. He went on and on till he came
to the foot of a castle wall, and forty men were taking counsel together
beneath it.
“What’s the matter?” inquired the King’s son.--“We should like to go
into the castle to steal the treasure,” said the forty men, “but we
don’t know how.”
“I would very soon help you if you only gave me a little light,” said
the King’s son. This the robbers readily promised to do, and after that
he took a packet of nails, knocked them into the castle wall, row after
row, right up to the top, clambered up himself, and then shouted down to
them: “Now you come up one by one, just as I have done.”
So the robbers caught hold of the nails and began to clamber up, one
after another, the whole forty of them. But the youth was not idle. He
drew his sword, and the moment each one of them reached the top, he
chopped off his head and pitched his body into the courtyard, and so he
did to the whole forty. Then he leaped down into the courtyard himself,
and there right before him was a beautiful palace; and no sooner had he
opened the door than a serpent glided past him, and crawled up a column
close by the staircase. The youth drew his sword to strike the serpent;
he struck and cut the serpent in two, but his sword remained in the
stone wall, and he forgot to draw it out again. Then he mounted the
staircase and went into a room, and there lay a lovely damsel asleep. So
he went out again, closed the door very softly behind him, and ascended
to the second flight, and went into a room there, and before him lay a
still lovelier damsel on a bed. This door he also closed, and went up to
the third and topmost flight, and opened a door there also, and lo! the
whole room was piled up with nothing but steel, and such a splendid
damsel lay asleep there that if the King’s son had had a thousand
hearts, he would have loved her with them all. This door he also closed,
remounted the castle wall, re-descended on the other side by means of
the nails, which he took out as he descended, and so reached the ground
again. Then he went straight up to the old man whose arms he had tied
together. “Oh, my son!” cried he from afar, “thou hast remained a long
time away. Everybody’s side will be aching from so much lying down.”
Then the youth untied his arms, the old man let the white globes of day
move round again, and the youth went up to the dragon, cut off its ears
and nose, and put them in his knapsack. Then he went back to the palace,
and when he drew nigh to it he found that they had made his eldest
brother Padishah. However, he let it be and said nothing.
Not very long afterwards a lion came to the palace, and went straight up
to the Padishah. “What dost thou want?” asked the Padishah. “I want thy
eldest sister to wife,” replied the lion. “I give not my sister to a
brute beast,” said the Padishah, and forthwith they began chasing the
lion away; but now the King’s son appeared and said: “Such was not our
father’s will, but he said we were to give her to whomsoever asked for
her.” With that they brought the damsel and gave her to the lion, and he
took her and was gone.
The next day came a tiger, and demanded the middling daughter from the
Padishah. The two elder brethren would by no means give her up, but
again the youngest brother insisted that they should do so, as it was
their father’s wish. So they sent for the damsel and gave her to the
tiger.
On the third day a bird alighted in the palace, and said that he must
have the youngest of the Sultan’s daughters. The Padishah and the
second brother were again unwilling to agree to it, but the youngest
brother stood them out that the bird ought to be allowed to fly back
with his sister. Now this bird was the Padishah of the Peris, the
emerald Anka. But now let us see what happened in that castle of which
we have before spoken.
In this castle there dwelt just about this time a Padishah and his three
daughters. Rising one morning and going out, he saw a man walking in the
palace. He went out into the courtyard, and saw a serpent cut in two on
the staircase, and a sword sticking in the stone column, and going on
still further, and searching in all directions, he perceived the bodies
of the forty robbers in his castle moat. “Not an enemy, but only the
hand of a friend could have done this,” thought he; “and he has saved me
from the robbers and the serpent. The sword is my good friend’s, but
where is the sword’s master?” And he took counsel with his Vizier.
“Oh, we’ll soon get to the bottom of that,” said the Vizier. “Let us
make a great bath, and invite every one to come and bathe in it for
nothing. We will watch carefully each single man, and whosoever has a
sheath without a sword will be the man who has saved us.” And the
Padishah did so. He made ready a big bath, and the whole realm came and
bathed in it.
Next day the Vizier said to him: “Every one has been here to bathe save
only the King’s three sons, they still remain behind.” Then the Padishah
sent word to the King’s three sons to come and bathe, and looking
closely at their garments, he perceived that the youngest of the three
wore a sheath without a sword.