But the uncle cried, 'No, no, my boy, we will keep together always.'

'Alas! that cannot be,' said the boy; 'so tell me which way you will

go.'

'I will go to the west,' said the uncle.

'One word before I leave you,' continued the boy. 'Beware of any man who

has red hair and blue eyes. Take no service under him.'

'All right,' replied the uncle, and they parted.

For three days the man wandered on without any food, till he was very

hungry. Then, when he was almost fainting, a stranger met him and said,

'Will you work for me?'

'By contract?' asked the man.

'Yes, by contract,' replied the stranger, 'and whichever of us breaks

it, shall have a strip of skin taken from his body.'

'All right,' replied the man; 'what shall I have to do?'

'Every day you must take the sheep out to pasture, and carry my old

mother on your shoulders, taking great care her feet shall never touch

the ground. And, besides that, you must catch, every evening, seven

singing birds for my seven sons.'

'That is easily done,' said the man.

Then they went back together, and the stranger said, 'Here are your

sheep: and now stoop down, and let my mother climb on your back.'

'Very good,' answered Mohammed's uncle.

The new shepherd did as he was told, and returned in the evening with

the old woman on his back, and the seven singing birds in his pocket,

which he gave to the seven boys, when they came to meet him. So the days

passed, each one exactly like the other.

At last, one night, he began to weep, and cried: 'Oh, what have I done,

that I should have to perform such hateful tasks?'

And his nephew Mohammed saw him from afar, and thought to himself, 'My

uncle is in trouble--I must go and help him;' and the next morning he

went to his master and said: 'Dear master, I must go to my uncle, and I

wish to send him here instead of myself, while I serve under his master.

And that you may know it is he and no other man, I will give him my

staff, and put my mantle on him.'

'All right,' said the master.

Mohammed set out on his journey, and in two days he arrived at the place

where his uncle was standing with the old woman on his back, trying to

catch the birds as they flew past. And Mohammed touched him on the arm,

and spoke: 'Dear uncle, did I not warn you never to take service under

any blue-eyed red-haired man?'

[Illustration: ·HOW·MOHAMMED·FINDS·HIS·UNCLE·]

'But what could I do?' asked the uncle. 'I was hungry, and he passed,

and we signed a contract.'

'Give the contract to me!' said the young man.

'Here it is,' replied the uncle, holding it out.

'Now,' continued Mohammed, 'let the old woman get down from your back.'

'Oh no, I mustn't do that!' cried he.

But the nephew paid no attention, and went on talking: 'Do not worry

yourself about the future. I see my way out of it all. And, first, you

must take my stick and my mantle and leave this place. After two days'

journey, straight before you, you will come to some tents which are

inhabited by shepherds. Go in there, and wait.'

'All right!' answered the uncle.

Then Mohammed with the Magic Finger picked up a stick and struck the old

woman with it, saying, 'Get down, and look after the sheep; I want to go

to sleep.'

'Oh, certainly!' replied she.

So Mohammed lay down comfortably under a tree and slept till evening.

Towards sunset he woke up and said to the old woman: 'Where are the

singing birds which you have got to catch?'

'You never told me anything about that,' replied she.

'Oh, didn't I?' he answered. 'Well, it is part of your business, and if

you don't do it, I shall just kill you.'

'Of course I will catch them!' cried she in a hurry, and ran about the

bushes after the birds, till thorns pierced her foot, and she shrieked

from pain and exclaimed, 'Oh dear, how unlucky I am! and how abominably

this man is treating me!' However, at last she managed to catch the

seven birds, and brought them to Mohammed, saying, 'Here they are!'

'Then now we will go back to the house,' said he.

When they had gone some way he turned to her sharply:

'Be quick and drive the sheep home, for I do not know where their fold

is.' And she drove them before her. By-and-by the young man spoke:

'Look here, old hag; if you say anything to your son about my having

struck you, or about my not being the old shepherd, I'll kill you!'

'Oh, no, of course I won't say anything!'

When they got back, the son said to his mother: 'That is a good shepherd

I've got, isn't he?'

'Oh, a splendid shepherd!' answered she. 'Why, look how fat the sheep

are, and how much milk they give!'

'Yes, indeed!' replied the son, as he rose to get supper for his mother

and the shepherd.

In the time of Mohammed's uncle, the shepherd had had nothing to eat but

the scraps left by the old woman; but the new shepherd was not going to

be content with that.

'You will not touch the food till I have had as much as I want,'

whispered he.

'Very good!' replied she. And when he had had enough, he said:

'Now, eat!' But she wept, and cried: 'That was not written in your

contract. You were only to have what I left!'

'If you say a word more, I will kill you!' said he.

The next day he took the old woman on his back, and drove the sheep in

front of him till he was some distance from the house, when he let her

fall, and said: 'Quick! go and mind the sheep!'

Then he took a ram, and killed it. He lit a fire and broiled some of its

flesh, and called to the old woman: 'Come and eat with me!' and she

came. But instead of letting her eat quietly, he took a large lump of

the meat and rammed it down her throat with his crook, so that she died.

And when he saw she was dead, he said: 'That is what you have got for

tormenting my uncle!' and left her lying where she was, while he went

after the singing birds. It took him a long time to catch them; but at

length he had the whole seven hidden in the pockets of his tunic, and

then he threw the old woman's body into some bushes, and drove the sheep

before him, back to their fold. And when they drew near the house the

seven boys came to meet him, and he gave a bird to each.

'Why are you weeping?' asked the boys, as they took their birds.

'Because your grandmother is dead!' And they ran and told their father.

Then the man came up and said to Mohammed: 'What was the matter? How did

she die?'

And Mohammed answered: 'I was tending the sheep when she said to me,

"Kill me that ram; I am hungry!" So I killed it, and gave her the meat.

But she had no teeth, and it choked her.'

'But why did you kill the ram, instead of one of the sheep?' asked the

man.

'What was I to do?' said Mohammed. 'I had to obey orders!'

'Well, I must see to her burial!' said the man; and the next morning

Mohammed drove out the sheep as usual, thinking to himself, 'Thank

goodness I've got rid of the old woman! Now for the boys!'

All day long he looked after the sheep, and towards evening he began to

dig some little holes in the ground, out of which he took six

scorpions. These he put in his pockets, together with one bird which he

caught. After this he drove his flock home.

When he approached the house the boys came out to meet him as before,

saying: 'Give me my bird!' and he put a scorpion into the hand of each,

and it stung him, and he died. But to the youngest only he gave a bird.

As soon as he saw the boys lying dead on the ground, Mohammed lifted up

his voice and cried loudly: 'Help, help! the children are dead!'

And the people came running fast, saying: 'What has happened? How have

they died?'

And Mohammed answered: 'It was your own fault! The boys had been

accustomed to birds, and in this bitter cold their fingers grew stiff,

and could hold nothing, so that the birds flew away, and their spirits

flew with them. Only the youngest, who managed to keep tight hold of his

bird, is still alive.'

And the father groaned, and said, 'I have borne enough! Bring no more

birds, lest I lose the youngest also!'

'All right,' said Mohammed.

As he was driving the sheep out to grass he said to his master: 'Out

there is a splendid pasture, and I will keep the sheep there for two or,

perhaps, three days, so do not be surprised at our absence.'

'Very good!' said the man; and Mohammed started. For two days he drove

them on and on, till he reached his uncle, and said to him, 'Dear uncle,

take these sheep and look after them. I have killed the old woman and

the boys, and the flock I have brought to you!'

Then Mohammed returned to his master; and on the way he took a stone and

beat his own head with it till it bled, and bound his hands tight, and

began to scream. The master came running and asked, 'What is the

matter?'

And Mohammed answered: 'While the sheep were grazing, robbers came and

drove them away, and because I tried to prevent them, they struck me on

the head and bound my hands. See how bloody I am!'

'What shall we do?' said the master; 'are the animals far off?'

'So far that you are not likely ever to see them again,' replied

Mohammed. 'This is the fourth day since the robbers came down. How

should you be able to overtake them?'

'Then go and herd the cows!' said the man.

'All right!' replied Mohammed, and for two days he went. But on the

third day he drove the cows to his uncle, first cutting off their tails.

Only one cow he left behind him.

'Take these cows, dear uncle,' said he. 'I am going to teach that man a

lesson.'

'Well, I suppose you know your own business best,' said the uncle. 'And

certainly he almost worried me to death.'

So Mohammed returned to his master, carrying the cows' tails tied up in

a bundle on his back. When he came to the sea-shore, he stuck all the

tails in the sand, and went and buried the one cow, whose tail he had

not cut off, up to her neck, leaving the tail projecting. After he had

got everything ready, he began to shriek and scream as before, till his

master and all the other servants came running to see what was the

matter.

'What in the world has happened?' they cried.

'The sea has swallowed up the cows,' said Mohammed, 'and nothing remains

but their tails. But if you are quick and pull hard, perhaps you may get

them out again!'

The master ordered each man instantly to take hold of a tail, but at the

first pull they nearly tumbled backwards, and the tails were left in

their hands.

'Stop,' cried Mohammed, 'you are doing it all wrong. You have just

pulled off their tails, and the cows have sunk to the bottom of the

sea.'

'See if you can do it any better,' said they; and Mohammed ran to the

cow which he had buried in the rough grass, and took hold of her tail

and dragged the animal out at once.

'There! that is the way to do it!' said he, 'I told you you knew nothing

about it!'

The men slunk away, much ashamed of themselves; but the master came up

to Mohammed. 'Get you gone!' he said, 'there is nothing more for you to

do! You have killed my mother, you have slain my children, you have

stolen my sheep, you have drowned my cows; I have now no work to give

you.'

'First give me the strip of your skin which belongs to me of right, as

you have broken your contract!'

'That a judge shall decide,' said the master; 'we will go before him.'

'Yes, we will,' replied Mohammed. And they went before the judge.

'What is your case?' asked the judge of the master.

'My lord,' said the man, bowing low, 'my shepherd here has robbed me of

everything. He has killed my children and my old mother; he has stolen

my sheep, he has drowned my cows in the sea.'

The shepherd answered: 'He must pay me what he owes me, and then I will

go.'

'Yes, that is the law,' said the judge.

'Very well,' returned the master, 'let him reckon up how long he has

been in my service.'

'That won't do,' replied Mohammed, 'I want my strip of skin, as we

agreed in the contract.'

Seeing there was no help for it, the master cut a bit of skin, and gave

it to Mohammed, who went off at once to his uncle.

'Now we are rich, dear uncle,' cried he, 'we will sell our cows and

sheep and go to a new country. This one is no longer the place for us.'

The sheep were soon sold, and the two comrades started on their travels.

That night they reached some Bedouin tents, where they had supper with

the Arabs. Before they lay down to sleep, Mohammed called the owner of

the tent aside. 'Your greyhound will eat my strip of leather,' he said

to the Arab.

'No; do not fear.'

'But supposing he does?'

'Well, then, I will give him to you in exchange,' replied the Arab.

Mohammed waited till everyone was fast asleep, then he rose softly, and

tearing the bit of skin in pieces, threw it down before the greyhound,

setting up wild shrieks as he did so.

'Oh, master, said I not well that your dog would eat my thong?'

'Be quiet, don't make such a noise, and you shall have the dog.'

So Mohammed put a leash round his neck, and led him away.

In the evening they arrived at the tents of some more Bedouin, and asked

for shelter. After supper Mohammed said to the owner of the tent, 'Your

ram will kill my greyhound.'

'Oh, no, he won't.'

'And supposing he does?'

'Then you can take him in exchange.'

So in the night Mohammed killed the greyhound, and laid his body across

the horns of the ram. Then he set up shrieks and yells, till he roused

the Arab, who said 'Take the ram and go away.'

Mohammed did not need to be told twice, and at sunset he reached another

Bedouin encampment. He was received kindly, as usual, and after supper

he said to his host: 'Your daughter will kill my ram.'

'Be silent, she will do nothing of the sort; my daughter does not need

to steal meat, she has some every day.'

'Very well, I will go to sleep; but if anything happens to my ram I will

call out.'

'If my daughter touches anything belonging to my guest I will kill her,'

said the Arab, and went to his bed.

When everybody was asleep, Mohammed got up, killed the ram, and took out

his liver, which he broiled on the fire. He placed a piece of it in the

girl's hands, and laid some more on her night-dress while she slept and

knew nothing about it. After this he began to cry out loudly.

'What is the matter? be silent at once!' called the Arab.

'How can I be silent, when my ram, which I loved like a child, has been

slain by your daughter?'

'But my daughter is asleep,' said the Arab.

'Well, go and see if she has not some of the flesh about her.'

'If she has, you may take her in exchange for the ram;' and as they

found the flesh exactly as Mohammed had foretold, the Arab gave his

daughter a good beating, and then told her to get out of sight, for she

was now the property of this stranger.

They wandered in the desert till, at nightfall, they came to a Bedouin

encampment, where they were hospitably bidden to enter. Before lying

down to sleep, Mohammed said to the owner of the tent: 'Your mare will

kill my wife.'

'Certainly not.'

'And if she does?'

'Then you shall take the mare in exchange.'

When everyone was asleep, Mohammed said softly to his wife: 'Maiden, I

have got such a clever plan! I am going to bring in the mare and put it

at your feet, and I will cut you, just a few little flesh wounds, so

that you may be covered with blood, and everybody will suppose you to be

dead. But remember that you must not make a sound, or we shall both be

lost.'

This was done, and then Mohammed wept and wailed louder than ever.

The Arab hastened to the spot and cried, 'Oh, cease making that terrible

noise! Take the mare and go; but carry off the dead girl with you. She

can lie quite easily across the mare's back.'

Then Mohammed and his uncle picked up the girl, and, placing her on the

mare's back, led it away, being very careful to walk one on each side,

so that she might not slip down and hurt herself. After the Arab tents

could be seen no longer, the girl sat up on the saddle and looked about

her, and as they were all hungry they tied up the mare, and took out

some dates to eat. When they had finished, Mohammed said to his uncle:

'Dear uncle, the maiden shall be your wife; I give her to you. But the

money we got from the sheep and cows we will divide between us. You

shall have two-thirds and I will have one. For you will have a wife, but

I never mean to marry. And now, go in peace, for never more will you see

me. The bond of bread and salt is at an end between us.'

So they wept, and fell on each other's necks, and asked forgiveness for

any wrongs in the past. Then they parted and went their ways.

[_Märchen und Gedichte aus der Stadt Tripolis_. Von Hans Stumme.]

_BOBINO_

Once on a time there was a rich merchant, who had an only son called

Bobino. Now, as the boy was clever, and had a great desire for

knowledge, his father sent him to be under a master, from whom he

thought he would learn to speak all sorts of foreign languages. After

some years with this master, Bobino returned to his home.

One evening, as he and his father were walking in the garden, the

sparrows in the trees above their heads began such a twittering, that

they found it impossible to hear each other speak. This annoyed the

merchant very much, so, to soothe him, Bobino said: 'Would you like me

to explain to you what the sparrows are saying to each other?'

The merchant looked at his son in astonishment, and answered: 'What can

you mean? How can you explain what the sparrows say? Do you consider

yourself a soothsayer or a magician?'

'I am neither a soothsayer nor a magician,' answered Bobino; 'but my

master taught me the language of all the animals.'

'Alas! for my good money!' exclaimed the merchant. 'The master has

certainly mistaken my intention. Of course I meant you to learn the

languages that human beings talk, and not the language of animals.'

'Have patience,' answered the son. 'My master thought it best to begin

with the language of animals, and later to learn the languages of human

beings.'

On their way into the house the dog ran to meet them, barking furiously.

'What can be the matter with the beast?' said the merchant. 'Why should

he bark at me like that, when he knows me quite well?'

'Shall I explain to you what he is saying?' said Bobino.

'Leave me in peace, and don't trouble me with your nonsense,' said the

merchant quite crossly. 'How my money has been wasted!'

A little later, as they sat down to supper, some frogs in a neighbouring

pond set up such a croaking as had never been heard. The noise so

irritated the merchant that he quite lost his temper and exclaimed:

'This only was wanting to add the last drop to my discomfort and

disappointment.'

'Shall I explain to you?' began Bobino.

'Will you hold your tongue with your explanations?' shouted the

merchant. 'Go to bed, and don't let me see your face again!'

So Bobino went to bed and slept soundly. But his father, who could not

get over his disappointment at the waste of his money, was so angry,

that he sent for two servants, and gave them orders, which they were to

carry out on the following day.

Next morning one of the servants awakened Bobino early, and made him get

into a carriage that was waiting for him. The servant placed himself on

the seat beside him, while the other servant rode alongside the carriage

as an escort. Bobino could not understand what they were going to do

with him, or where he was being taken; but he noticed that the servant

beside him looked very sad, and his eyes were all swollen with crying.

Curious to know the reason he said to him: 'Why are you so sad? and

where are you taking me?'

But the servant would say nothing. At last, moved by Bobino's

entreaties, he said: 'My poor boy, I am taking you to your death, and,

what is worse, I am doing so by the order of your father.'

'But why,' exclaimed Bobino, 'does he want me to die? What evil have I

done him, or what fault have I committed that he should wish to bring

about my death?'

'You have done him no evil,' answered the servant, 'neither have you

committed any fault; but he is half mad with anger because, in all these

years of study, you have learnt nothing but the language of animals. He

expected something quite different from you, that is why he is

determined you shall die.'

'If that is the case, kill me at once,' said Bobino. 'What is the use of

waiting, if it must be done?'

'I have not the heart to do it,' answered the servant. 'I would rather

think of some way of saving your life, and at the same time of

protecting ourselves from your father's anger. By good luck the dog has

followed us. We will kill it, and cut out the heart and take it back to

your father. He will believe it is yours, and you, in the meantime, will

have made your escape.'

When they had reached the thickest part of the wood, Bobino got out of

the carriage, and having said good-bye to the servants set out on his

wanderings.

On and on he walked, till at last, late in the evening, he came to a

house where some herdsmen lived. He knocked at the door and begged for

shelter for the night. The herdsmen, seeing how gentle a youth he

seemed, made him welcome, and bade him sit down and share their supper.

While they were eating it, the dog in the courtyard began to bark.

Bobino walked to the window, listened attentively for a minute, and then

turning to the herdsmen said: 'Send your wives and daughters at once to

bed, and arm yourselves as best you can, because at midnight a band of

robbers will attack this house.'

The herdsmen were quite taken aback, and thought that the youth must

have taken leave of his senses.

'How can you know,' they said, 'that a band of robbers mean to attack

us? Who told you so?'

'I know it from the dog's barking,' answered Bobino. 'I understand his

language, and if I had not been here, the poor beast would have wasted

his breath to no purpose. You had better follow my advice, if you wish

to save your lives and property.'

The herdsmen were more and more astonished, but they decided to do as

Bobino advised. They sent their wives and daughters upstairs, then,

having armed themselves, they took up their position behind a hedge,

waiting for midnight.

Just as the clock struck twelve they heard the sound of approaching

footsteps, and a band of robbers cautiously advanced towards the house.

But the herdsmen were on the lookout; they sprang on the robbers from

behind the hedge, and with blows from their cudgels soon put them to

flight.

You may believe how grateful they were to Bobino, to whose timely

warning they owed their safety. They begged him to stay and make his

home with them; but as he wanted to see more of the world, he thanked

them warmly for their hospitality, and set out once more on his

wanderings. All day he walked, and in the evening he came to a peasant's

house. While he was wondering whether he should knock and demand shelter

for the night, he heard a great croaking of frogs in a ditch behind the

house. Stepping to the back he saw a very strange sight. Four frogs were

throwing a small bottle about from one to the other, making a great

croaking as they did so. Bobino listened for a few minutes, and then

knocked at the door of the house. It was opened by the peasant, who

asked him to come in and have some supper.

When the meal was over, his host told him that they were in great

trouble, as his eldest daughter was so ill, that they feared she could

not recover. A great doctor, who had been passing that way some time

before, had promised to send her some medicine that would have cured

her, but the servant to whom he had entrusted the medicine had let it

drop on the way back, and now there seemed no hope for the girl.

Then Bobino told the father of the small bottle he had seen the frogs

play with, and that he knew that was the medicine which the doctor had

sent to the girl. The peasant asked him how he could be sure of this,

and Bobino explained to him that he understood the language of animals,

and had heard what the frogs said as they tossed the bottle about. So

the peasant fetched the bottle from the ditch, and gave the medicine to

his daughter. In the morning she was much better, and the grateful

father did not know how to thank Bobino enough. But Bobino would accept

nothing from him, and having said good-bye, set out once more on his

wanderings.

One day, soon after this, he came upon two men resting under a tree in

the heat of the day. Being tired he stretched himself on the ground at

no great distance from them, and soon they all three began to talk to

one another. In the course of conversation, Bobino asked the two men

where they were going; and they replied that they were on their way to a

neighbouring town, where, that day, a new ruler was to be chosen by the

people.

While they were still talking, some sparrows settled on the tree under

which they were lying. Bobino was silent, and appeared to be listening

attentively. At the end of a few minutes he said to his companions, 'Do

you know what those sparrows are saying? They are saying that to-day one

of us will be chosen ruler of that town.'

The men said nothing, but looked at each other. A few minutes later,

seeing that Bobino had fallen asleep, they stole away, and made with all

haste for the town, where the election of a new ruler was to take

place.

A great crowd was assembled in the market-place, waiting for the hour

when an eagle should be let loose from a cage, for it had been settled

that on whose-soever house the eagle alighted, the owner of that house

should become ruler of the town. At last the hour arrived; the eagle was

set free, and all eyes were strained to see where it would alight. But

circling over the heads of the crowd, it flew straight in the direction

of a young man, who was at that moment entering the town. This was none

other than Bobino, who had awakened soon after his companions had left

him, and had followed in their footsteps. All the people shouted and

proclaimed that he was their future ruler, and he was conducted by a

great crowd to the Governor's house, which was for the future to be his

home. And here he lived happily, and ruled wisely over the people.

[Illustration: The Townspeople make Bobino King]

_THE DOG AND THE SPARROW_

There was once upon a time a sheep-dog whose master was so unkind that

he starved the poor beast, and ill-treated him in the cruellest manner.

At last the dog determined to stand this ill-usage no longer, and, one

day, he ran away from home. As he was trotting along the road he met a

sparrow, who stopped him and said: 'Brother, why do you look so sad?'

The dog answered: 'I am sad because I am hungry, and have nothing to

eat.'

'If that's all, dear brother,' said the sparrow, 'come to the town with

me, and I'll soon get food for you.'

So they went together to the town, and when they came to a butcher's

shop, the sparrow said to the dog: 'You stand still and I'll peck down a

piece of meat for you.'

First she looked all round to see that no one was watching her, and

then she set to work to peck at a piece of meat that lay on the edge of

a shelf, till at last it fell down. The dog seized it ravenously, and

ran with it to a dark corner where he gobbled it up in a very few

minutes.

When he had finished it, the sparrow said: 'Now come with me to another

shop, and I will get you a second piece, so that your hunger may be

satisfied.' When the dog had finished the second piece of meat, the

sparrow asked him: 'Brother, have you had enough now?'

'Yes,' replied the dog, 'I've had quite enough meat but I haven't had

any bread yet.'

The sparrow said: 'You shall have as much bread as you like, only come

with me.' Then she led him to a baker's shop, and pecked so long at two

rolls on a shelf that at last they fell down, and the dog ate them up.

But still his hunger was not appeased; so the sparrow took him to

another baker's shop, and got some more rolls for him. Then she asked

him: 'Well, brother, are you satisfied?'

'Yes,' he replied; 'and now let us go for a little walk outside the

town.'

So the two went for a stroll into the country; but the day was very hot,

and after they had gone a short distance the dog said: 'I am very tired,

and would like to go to sleep.'

'Sleep, then,' said the sparrow, 'and I will keep watch meantime on the

branch of a tree.'

So the dog lay down in the middle of the road, and was soon fast asleep.

While he was sleeping a carter passed by, driving a waggon drawn by

three horses, and laden with two barrels of wine. The sparrow noticed

that the man was not going out of his way to avoid the dog, but was

driving right in the middle of the road where the poor animal lay; so

she called out: 'Carter, take care what you are about, or I shall make

you suffer for it.'

But the carter merely laughed at her words, and, cracking his whip, he

drove his waggon right over the dog, so that the heavy wheels killed

him.

Then the sparrow called out: 'You have caused my brother's death, and

your cruelty will cost you your waggon and horses.'

'Waggon and horses, indeed,' said the carter; 'I'd like to know how you

could rob me of them!'

The sparrow said nothing, but crept under the cover of the waggon and

pecked so long at the bunghole of one of the barrels that at last she

got the cork away, and all the wine ran out without the carter's

noticing it.

But at last he turned round and saw that the bottom of the cart was wet,

and when he examined it, he found that one of the barrels was quite

empty, 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!' he exclaimed.

'You'll have worse luck still,' said the sparrow, as she perched on the

head of one of the horses and pecked out its eyes.

When the carter saw what had happened, he seized an axe and tried to hit

the sparrow with it, but the little bird flew up into the air, and the

carter only hit the blind horse on the head, so that it fell down dead.

'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!' he exclaimed again.

[Illustration: The Dog & the Sparrow

How the Carter killed his horse.]

'You'll have worse luck yet,' said the sparrow; and when the carter

drove on with his two horses she crept under the covering again, and

pecked away at the cork of the second barrel till she got it away, and

all the wine poured out on to the road.

When the carter perceived this fresh disaster he called out once more:

'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!'

But the sparrow answered: 'Your bad luck is not over yet,' and flying on

to the head of the second horse she pecked out its eyes.

The carter jumped out of the waggon and seized his axe, with which he

meant to kill the sparrow; but the little bird flew high into the air,

and the blow fell on the poor blind horse instead, and killed it on the

spot. Then the carter exclaimed: 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!'

'You've not got to the end of your bad luck yet,' sang the sparrow; and,

perching on the head of the third horse, she pecked out its eyes.

The carter, blind with rage, let his axe fly at the bird; but once more

she escaped the blow, which fell on the only remaining horse, and killed

it. And again the carter called out: 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I am!'

'You'll have worse luck yet,' said the sparrow, 'for now I mean to make

your home desolate.'

The carter had to leave his waggon on the road, and he went home in a

towering passion. As soon as he saw his wife, he called out: 'Oh! what

bad luck I have had! all my wine is spilt, and my horses are all three

dead.'

'My dear husband,' replied his wife, 'your bad luck pursues you, for a

wicked little sparrow has assembled all the other birds in the world,

and they are in our barn eating everything up.'

The carter went out to the barn where he kept his corn and found it was

just as his wife had said. Thousands and thousands of birds were eating

up the grain, and in the middle of them sat the little sparrow. When he

saw his old enemy, the carter cried out: 'Oh! what an unlucky fellow I

am!'

'Not unlucky enough yet,' answered the sparrow, 'for, mark my words,

carter, your cruel conduct will cost you your life;' and with these

words she flew into the air.

The carter was much depressed by the loss of all his worldly goods, and

sat down at the fire plotting vengeance on the sparrow, while the little

bird sat on the window ledge and sang in mocking tones: 'Yes, carter,

your cruel conduct will cost you your life.'

Then the carter seized his axe and threw it at the sparrow, but he only

broke the window panes, and did not do the bird a bit of harm. She

hopped in through the broken window and, perching on the mantelpiece,

she called out: 'Yes, carter, it will cost you your life.'

The carter, quite beside himself with rage, flew at the sparrow again

with his axe, but the little creature always eluded his blows, and he

only succeeded in destroying all his furniture. At last, however, he

managed to catch the bird in his hands. Then his wife called out: 'Shall

I wring her neck?'

'Certainly not,' replied her husband, 'that would be far too easy a

death for her; she must die in a far crueller fashion than that. I will

eat her alive;' and he suited the action to his words. But the sparrow

fluttered and struggled inside him till she got up into the man's mouth,

and then she popped out her head and said: 'Yes, carter, it will cost

you your life.'

The carter handed his wife the axe, and said: 'Wife, kill the bird in my

mouth dead.'

The woman struck with all her might, but she missed the bird and hit the

carter right on the top of his head, so that he fell down dead. But the

sparrow escaped out of his mouth and flew away into the air.

[From the German, _Kletke_.]

_THE STORY OF THE THREE SONS OF HALI_

Till his eighteenth birthday the young Neangir lived happily in a

village about forty miles from Constantinople, believing that Mohammed

and Zinebi his wife, who had brought him up, were his real parents.

Neangir was quite content with his lot, though he was neither rich nor

great, and unlike most young men of his age had no desire to leave his

home. He was therefore completely taken by surprise when one day

Mohammed told him with many sighs that the time had now come for him to

go to Constantinople, and fix on a profession for himself. The choice

would be left to him, but he would probably prefer either to be a

soldier or one of the doctors learned in the law, who explain the Koran

to the ignorant people. 'You know the holy book nearly by heart,' ended

the old man, 'so that in a very short time you would be fitted to teach

others. But write to us and tell us how you pass your life, and we, on

our side, will promise never to forget you.'

So saying, Mohammed gave Neangir four piastres to start him in the great

city, and obtained leave for him to join a caravan which was about to

set off for Constantinople.

The journey took some days, as caravans go very slowly, but at last the

walls and towers of the capital appeared in the distance. When the

caravan halted the travellers went their different ways, and Neangir was

left, feeling very strange and rather lonely. He had plenty of courage

and made friends very easily; still, not only was it the first time he

had left the village where he had been brought up, but no one had ever

spoken to him of Constantinople, and he did not so much as know the name

of a single street or of a creature who lived in it.

Wondering what he was to do next, Neangir stood still for a moment to

look about him, when suddenly a pleasant-looking man came up, and bowing

politely, asked if the youth would do him the honour of staying in his

house till he had made some plans for himself. Neangir, not seeing

anything else he could do, accepted the stranger's offer and followed

him home.

They entered a large room, where a girl of about twelve years old was

laying three places at the table.

'Zelida,' said the stranger, 'was I not quite right when I told you that

I should bring back a friend to sup with us?'

'My father,' replied the girl, 'you are always right in what you say,

and what is better still, you never mislead others.' As she spoke, an

old slave placed on the table a dish called pillau, made of rice and

meat, which is a great favourite among people in the East, and setting

down glasses of sherbet before each person, left the room quietly.

During the meal the host talked a great deal upon all sorts of subjects;

but Neangir did nothing but look at Zelida, as far as he could without

being positively rude.

The girl blushed and grew uncomfortable, and at last turned to her

father. 'The stranger's eyes never wander from me,' she said in a low

and hesitating voice. 'If Hassan should hear of it, jealousy will make

him mad.'

'No, no,' replied the father, 'you are certainly not for this young man.

Did I not tell you before that I intend him for your sister Argentine. I

will at once take measures to fix his heart upon her,' and he rose and

opened a cupboard, from which he took some fruits and a jug of wine,

which he put on the table, together with a small silver and

mother-of-pearl box.

'Taste this wine,' he said to the young man, pouring some into a glass.

'Give me a little, too,' cried Zelida.

'Certainly not,' answered her father, 'you and Hassan both had as much

as was good for you the other day.'

'Then drink some yourself,' replied she, 'or this young man will think

we mean to poison him.'

'Well, if you wish, I will do so,' said the father; 'this elixir is not

dangerous at my age, as it is at yours.'

When Neangir had emptied his glass, his host opened the mother-of-pearl

box and held it out to him. Neangir was beside himself with delight at

the picture of a young maiden more beautiful than anything he had ever

dreamed of. He stood speechless before it, while his breast swelled with

a feeling quite new to him.

His two companions watched him with amusement, until at last Neangir

roused himself. 'Explain to me, I pray you,' he said, 'the meaning of

these mysteries. Why did you ask me here? Why did you force me to drink

this dangerous liquid which has set fire to my blood? Why have you shown

me this picture which has almost deprived me of reason?'

'I will answer some of your questions,' replied his host,' but all, I

may not. The picture that you hold in your hand is that of Zelida's

sister. It has filled your heart with love for her; therefore, go and

seek her. When you find her, you will find yourself.'

'But where _shall_ I find her?' cried Neangir, kissing the charming

miniature on which his eyes were fixed.

'I am unable to tell you more,' replied his host cautiously.

'But I can,' interrupted Zelida eagerly. 'To-morrow you must go to the

Jewish bazaar, and buy a watch from the second shop on the right hand.

And at midnight----'

But what was to happen at midnight, Neangir did not hear, for Zelida's

father hastily laid his hand over her mouth, crying: 'Oh, be silent,

child! Would you draw down on you by imprudence the fate of your unhappy

sisters?' Hardly had he uttered the words, when a thick black vapour

rose about him, proceeding from the precious bottle, which his rapid

movement had overturned. The old slave rushed in and shrieked loudly,

while Neangir, upset by this strange adventure, left the house.

[Illustration: NEANGIR SEES THE PICTURE OF ARGENTINE]

He passed the rest of the night on the steps of a mosque, and with the

first streaks of dawn he took his picture out of the folds of his

turban. Then, remembering Zelida's words, he inquired the way to the

bazaar, and went straight to the shop she had described.

In answer to Neangir's request to be shown some watches, the merchant

produced several and pointed out the one which he considered the best.

The price was three gold pieces, which Neangir readily agreed to give

him; but the man made a difficulty about handing over the watch unless

he knew where his customer lived.

'That is more than I know myself,' replied Neangir. 'I only arrived in

the town yesterday and cannot find the way to the house where I went

first.'

'Well,' said the merchant, 'come with me, and I will take you to a good

Mussulman, where you will have everything you desire at a small charge.'

Neangir consented, and the two walked together through several streets

till they reached the house recommended by the Jewish merchant. By his

advice the young man paid in advance the last gold piece that remained

to him for his food and lodging.

As soon as Neangir had dined he shut himself up in his room, and

thrusting his hand into the folds of his turban, drew out his beloved

portrait. As he did so, he touched a sealed letter which had apparently

been hidden there without his knowledge, and seeing it was written by

his foster-mother, Zinebi, he tore it eagerly open. Judge of his

surprise when he read these words:

'My dearest Child,--This letter, which you will some day find in your

turban, is to inform you that you are not really our son. We believe

your father to have been a great lord in some distant land, and inside

this packet is a letter from him, threatening to be avenged on us if you

are not restored to him at once. We shall always love you, but do not

seek us or even write to us. It will be useless.'

In the same wrapper was a roll of paper with a few words as follows,

traced in a hand unknown to Neangir:

'Traitors, you are no doubt in league with those magicians who have

stolen the two daughters of the unfortunate Siroco, and have taken from

them the talisman given them by their father. You have kept my son from

me, but I have found out your hiding-place and swear by the Holy Prophet

to punish your crime. The stroke of my scimitar is swifter than the

lightning.'

The unhappy Neangir on reading these two letters--of which he understood

absolutely nothing--felt sadder and more lonely than ever. It soon

dawned on him that he must be the son of the man who had written to

Mohammed and his wife, but he did not know where to look for him, and

indeed thought much more about the people who had brought him up and

whom he was never to see again.

To shake off these gloomy feelings, so as to be able to make some plans

for the future, Neangir left the house and walked briskly about the city

till darkness had fallen. He then retraced his steps and was just

crossing the threshold when he saw something at his feet sparkling in

the moonlight. He picked it up, and discovered it to be a gold watch

shining with precious stones. He gazed up and down the street to see if

there was anyone about to whom it might belong, but there was not a

creature visible. So he put it in his sash, by the side of a silver

watch which he had bought from the Jew that morning.

The possession of this piece of good fortune cheered Neangir up a

little, 'for,' thought he, 'I can sell these jewels for at least a

thousand sequins, and that will certainly last me till I have found my

father.' And consoled by this reflection he laid both watches beside him

and prepared to sleep.

In the middle of the night he awoke suddenly and heard a soft voice

speaking, which seemed to come from one of the watches.

'Aurora, my sister,' it whispered gently. 'Did they remember to wind

you up at midnight?'

'No, dear Argentine,' was the reply. 'And you?'

'They forgot me, too,' answered the first voice, 'and it is now one

o'clock, so that we shall not be able to leave our prison till

to-morrow--if we are not forgotten again--then.'

'We have nothing now to do here,' said Aurora. 'We must resign ourselves

to our fate--let us go.'

Filled with astonishment Neangir sat up in bed, and beheld by the light

of the moon the two watches slide to the ground and roll out of the room

past the cats' quarters. He rushed towards the door and on to the

staircase, but the watches slipped downstairs without his seeing them,

and into the street. He tried to unlock the door and follow them, but

the key refused to turn, so he gave up the chase and went back to bed.

The next day all his sorrows returned with tenfold force. He felt

himself lonelier and poorer than ever, and in a fit of despair he thrust

his turban on his head, stuck his sword in his belt, and left the house

determined to seek an explanation from the merchant who had sold him the

silver watch.

When Neangir reached the bazaar he found the man he sought was absent

from his shop, and his place filled by another Jew.

'It is my brother you want,' said he; 'we keep the shop in turn, and in

turn go into the city to do our business.'

'Ah! _what_ business?' cried Neangir in a fury. 'You are the brother of

a scoundrel who sold me yesterday a watch that ran away in the night.

But I will find it somehow, or else you shall pay for it, as you are his

brother!'

'What is that you say?' asked the Jew, around whom a crowd had rapidly

gathered. 'A watch that ran away. If it had been a cask of wine, your

story might be true, but a watch----! That is hardly possible!'

'The Cadi shall say whether it is possible or not,' replied Neangir, who

at that moment perceived the other Jew enter the bazaar. Darting up, he

seized him by the arm and dragged him to the Cadi's house; but not

before the man whom he had found in the shop contrived to whisper to his

brother, in a tone loud enough for Neangir to hear, 'Confess nothing, or

we shall both be lost.'

When the Cadi was informed of what had taken place he ordered the crowd

to be dispersed by blows, after the Turkish manner, and then asked

Neangir to state his complaint. After hearing the young man's story,

which seemed to him most extraordinary, he turned to question the Jewish

merchant, who instead of answering raised his eyes to heaven and fell

down in a dead faint.

The judge took no notice of the swooning man, but told Neangir that his

tale was so singular he really could not believe it, and that he should

have the merchant carried back to his own house. This so enraged Neangir

that he forgot the respect due to the Cadi, and exclaimed at the top of

his voice, 'Recover this fellow from his fainting fit, and force him to

confess the truth,' giving the Jew as he spoke a blow with his sword

which caused him to utter a piercing scream.

'You see for yourself,' said the Jew to the Cadi, 'that this young man

is out of his mind. I forgive him his blow, but do not, I pray you,

leave me in his power.'

At that moment the Bassa chanced to pass the Cadi's house, and hearing a

great noise, entered to inquire the cause. When the matter was

explained, he looked attentively at Neangir, and asked him gently how

all these marvels could possibly have happened.

'My lord,' replied Neangir, 'I swear I have spoken the truth, and

perhaps you will believe me when I tell you that I myself have been the

victim of spells wrought by people of this kind, who should be rooted

out from the earth. For three years I was changed into a three-legged

pot, and only returned to man's shape when one day a turban was laid

upon my lid.'

At these words the Bassa rent his robe for joy, and embracing Neangir,

he cried, 'Oh, my son, my son, have I found you at last? Do you not come

from the house of Mohammed and Zinebi?'

'Yes, my lord,' replied Neangir, 'it was they who took care of me during

my misfortune, and taught me by their example to be less worthy of

belonging to you.'

'Blessed be the Prophet,' said the Bassa, 'who has restored one of my

sons to me, at the time I least expected it! You know,' he continued,

addressing the Cadi, 'that during the first years of my marriage I had

three sons by the beautiful Zambac. When he was three years old a holy

dervish gave the eldest a string of the finest coral, saying "Keep this

treasure carefully, and be faithful to the Prophet, and you will be

happy." To the second, who now stands before you, he presented a copper

plate on which the name of Mahomet was engraved in seven languages,

telling him never to part from his turban, which was the sign of a true

believer, and he would taste the greatest of all joys; while on the

right arm of the third the dervish clasped a bracelet with the prayer

that his right hand should be pure and the left spotless, so that he

might never know sorrow.

'My eldest son neglected the counsel of the dervish and terrible

troubles fell on him, as also on the youngest. To preserve the second

from similar misfortunes I brought him up in a lonely place, under the

care of a faithful servant named Gouloucou, while I was fighting the

enemies of our Holy Faith. On my return from the wars I hastened to

embrace my son, but both he and Gouloucou had vanished, and it is only a

few months since that I learned that the boy was living with a man

called Mohammed, whom I suspected of having stolen him. Tell me, my son,

how it came about that you fell into his hands.'

'My lord,' replied Neangir, 'I can remember little of the early years of

my life, save that I dwelt in a castle by the seashore with an old

servant. I must have been about twelve years old when one day as we

were out walking we met a man whose face was like that of this Jew,

coming dancing towards us. Suddenly I felt myself growing faint. I tried

to raise my hands to my head, but they had become stiff and hard. In a

word, I had been changed into a copper pot, and my arms formed the

handle. What happened to my companion I know not, but I was conscious

that some one had picked me up, and was carrying me quickly away.

'After some days, or so it seemed to me, I was placed on the ground near

a thick hedge, and when I heard my captor snoring beside me I resolved

to make my escape. So I pushed my way among the thorns as well as I

could, and walked on steadily for about an hour.

'You cannot imagine, my lord, how awkward it is to walk with three legs,

especially when your knees are as stiff as mine were. At length after

much difficulty I reached a market-garden, and hid myself deep down

among the cabbages, where I passed a quiet night.

'The next morning, at sunrise, I felt some one stooping over me and

examining me closely. "What have you got there, Zinebi?" said the voice

of a man a little way off.

'"The most beautiful pot in the whole world," answered the woman beside

me, "and who would have dreamed of finding it among my cabbages!"

'Mohammed lifted me from the ground and looked at me with admiration.

That pleased me, for every one likes to be admired, even if he is only a

pot! And I was taken into the house and filled with water, and put on

the fire to boil.

'For three years I led a quiet and useful life, being scrubbed bright

every day by Zinebi, then a young and beautiful woman.

'One morning Zinebi set me on the fire, with a fine fillet of beef

inside me to cook, for dinner. Being afraid that some of the steam would

escape through the lid, and that the taste of her stew would be spoilt,

she looked about for something to put over the cover, but could see

nothing handy but her husband's turban. She tied it firmly round the

lid, and then left the room. For the first time during three years I

began to feel the fire burning the soles of my feet, and moved away a

little--doing this with a great deal more ease than I had felt when

making my escape to Mohammed's garden. I was somehow aware, too, that I

was growing taller; in fact in a few minutes I was a man again.

[Illustration: ZINEBI PUTS THE TURBAN ON THE POT]

'After the third hour of prayer Mohammed and Zinebi both returned, and

you can guess their surprise at finding a young man in the kitchen

instead of a copper pot! I told them my story, which at first they

refused to believe, but in the end I succeeded in persuading them that I

was speaking the truth. For two years more I lived with them, and was

treated like their own son, till the day when they sent me to this city

to seek my fortune. And now, my lords, here are the two letters which I

found in my turban. Perhaps they may be another proof in favour of my

story.'

Whilst Neangir was speaking, the blood from the Jew's wound had

gradually ceased to flow; and at this moment there appeared in the

doorway a lovely Jewess, about twenty-two years old, her hair and her

dress all disordered, as if she had been flying from some great danger.

In one hand she held two crutches of white wood, and was followed by two

men. The first man Neangir knew to be the brother of the Jew he had

struck with his sword, while in the second the young man thought he

recognised the person who was standing by when he was changed into a

pot. Both of these men had a wide linen band round their thighs and held

stout sticks.

[Illustration: THERE APPEARED IN THE DOORWAY A LOVELY JEWESS]

The Jewess approached the wounded man and laid the two crutches near

him; then, fixing her eyes on him, she burst into tears.

'Unhappy Izouf,' she murmured, 'why do you suffer yourself to be led

into such dangerous adventures? Look at the consequences, not only to

yourself, but to your two brothers,' turning as she spoke to the men who

had come in with her, and who had sunk down on the mat at the feet of

the Jew.

The Bassa and his companions were struck both with the beauty of the

Jewess and also with her words, and begged her to give them an

explanation.

'My lords,' she said, 'my name is Sumi, and I am the daughter of Moïzes,

one of our most famous rabbis. I am the victim of my love for Izaf,'

pointing to the man who had entered last, 'and in spite of his

ingratitude, I cannot tear him from my heart. Cruel enemy of my life,'

she continued, turning to Izaf, 'tell these gentlemen your story and

that of your brothers, and try to gain your pardon by repentance.'

'We all three were born at the same time,' said the Jew, obeying the

command of Sumi at a sign from the Cadi, 'and are the sons of the famous

Nathan Ben-Sadi, who gave us the names of Izif, Izouf, and Izaf. From

our earliest years we were taught the secrets of magic, and as we were

all born under the same stars we shared the same happiness and the same

troubles.

'Our mother died before I can remember, and when we were fifteen our

father was seized with a dangerous illness which no spells could cure.

Feeling death draw near, he called us to his bedside and took leave of

us in these words:

'"My sons, I have no riches to bequeath to you; my only wealth was those

secrets of magic which you know. Some stones you already have, engraved

with mystic signs, and long ago I taught you how to make others. But you

still lack the most precious of all talismans--the three rings belonging

to the daughters of Siroco. Try to get possession of them, but take heed

on beholding these young girls that you do not fall under the power of

their beauty. Their religion is different from yours, and further, they

are the betrothed brides of the sons of the Bassa of the Sea. And to

preserve you from a love which can bring you nothing but sorrow, I

counsel you in time of peril to seek out the daughter of Moïzes the

Rabbi, who cherishes a hidden passion for Izaf, and possesses the Book

of Spells, which her father himself wrote with the sacred ink that was

used for the Talmud." So saying, our father fell back on his cushions

and died, leaving us burning with desire for the three rings of the

daughters of Siroco.

'No sooner were our sad duties finished than we began to make inquiries

where these young ladies were to be found, and we learned after much

trouble that Siroco, their father, had fought in many wars, and that his

daughters, whose beauty was famous throughout all the land, were named

Aurora, Argentine, and Zelida.'

At the second of these names, both the Bassa and his son gave a start

of surprise, but they said nothing, and Izaf went on with his story.

'The first thing to be done was to put on a disguise, and it was in the

dress of foreign merchants that we at length approached the young

ladies, taking care to carry with us a collection of fine stones which

we had hired for the occasion. But alas! it was to no purpose that

Nathan Ben-Sadi had warned us to close our hearts against their charms!

The peerless Aurora was clothed in a garment of golden hue, studded all

over with flashing jewels; the fair-haired Argentine wore a dress of

silver, and the young Zelida, loveliest of them all, the costume of a

Persian lady.

'Among other curiosities that we had brought with us, was a flask

containing an elixir which had the quality of exciting love in the

breasts of any man or woman who drank of it. This had been given me by

the fair Sumi, who had used it herself and was full of wrath because I

refused to drink it likewise, and so return her passion. I showed this

liquid to the three maidens who were engaged in examining the precious

stones, and choosing those that pleased them best; and I was in the act

of pouring some in a crystal cup, when Zelida's eyes fell on a paper

wrapped round the flask containing these words: "Beware lest you drink

this water with any other man than him who will one day be your

husband." "Ah, traitor!" she exclaimed, "what snare have you laid for

me?" and glancing where her finger pointed I recognised the writing of

Sumi.

[Illustration: ZELIDA DISCOVERS THE WRITING ON THE FLASK]

'By this time my two brothers had already got possession of the rings of

Aurora and Argentine in exchange for some merchandise which they

coveted, and no sooner had the magic circles left their hands than the

two sisters vanished completely, and in their place nothing was to be

seen but a watch of gold and one of silver. At this instant the old

slave whom we had bribed to let us enter the house, rushed into the room

announcing the return of Zelida's father. My brothers, trembling with

fright, hid the watches in their turbans, and while the slave was

attending to Zelida, who had sunk fainting to the ground, we managed to

make our escape.

'Fearing to be traced by the enraged Siroco, we did not dare to go back

to the house where we lodged, but took refuge with Sumi.

'"Unhappy wretches!" cried she, "is it thus that you have followed the

counsels of your father? This very morning I consulted my magic books,

and saw you in the act of abandoning your hearts to the fatal passion

which will one day be your ruin. No, do not think I will tamely bear

this insult! It was I who wrote the letter which stopped Zelida in the

act of drinking the elixir of love! As for you," she went on, turning to

my brothers, "you do not yet know what those two watches will cost you!

But you can learn it now, and the knowledge of the truth will only serve

to render your lives still more miserable."

'As she spoke she held out the sacred book written by Moïzes, and

pointed to the following lines:

'"If at midnight the watches are wound with the key of gold and the key

of silver, they will resume their proper shapes during the first hour of

the day. They will always remain under the care of a woman, and will

come back to her wherever they may be. And the woman appointed to guard

them is the daughter of Moïzes."

'My brothers were full of rage when they saw themselves outwitted, but

there was no help for it. The watches were delivered up to Sumi and they

went their way, while I remained behind curious to see what would

happen.

'As night wore on Sumi wound up both watches, and when midnight struck

Aurora and her sister made their appearance. They knew nothing of what

had occurred and supposed they had just awakened from sleep, but when

Sumi's story made them understand their terrible fate, they both sobbed

with despair and were only consoled when Sumi promised never to forsake

them. Then one o'clock sounded, and they became watches again.

'All night long I was a prey to vague fears, and I felt as if something

unseen was pushing me on--in what direction I did not know. At dawn I

rose and went out, meeting Izif in the street suffering from the same

dread as myself. We agreed that Constantinople was no place for us any

longer, and calling to Izouf to accompany us, we left the city together,

but soon determined to travel separately, so that we might not be so

easily recognised by the spies of Siroco.

'A few days later I found myself at the door of an old castle near the

sea, before which a tall slave was pacing to and fro. The gift of one or

two worthless jewels loosened his tongue, and he informed me that he was

in the service of the son of the Bassa of the Sea, at that time making

war in distant countries. The youth, he told me, had been destined from

his boyhood to marry the daughter of Siroco, whose sisters were to be

the brides of his brothers, and went on to speak of the talisman that

his charge possessed. But I could think of nothing but the beautiful

Zelida, and my passion, which I thought I had conquered, awoke in full

force.

'In order to remove this dangerous rival from my path, I resolved to

kidnap him, and to this end I began to act a madman, and to sing and

dance loudly, crying to the slave to fetch the boy and let him see my

tricks. He consented, and both were so diverted with my antics that they

laughed till the tears ran down their cheeks, and even tried to imitate

me. Then I declared I felt thirsty and begged the slave to fetch me some

water, and while he was absent I advised the youth to take off his

turban, so as to cool his head. He complied gladly, and in the twinkling

of an eye was changed into a pot. A cry from the slave warned me that I

had no time to lose if I would save my life, so I snatched up the pot

and fled with it like the wind.

'You have heard, my lords, what became of the pot, so I will only say

now that when I awoke it had disappeared; but I was partly consoled for

its loss by finding my two brothers fast asleep not far from me. "How

did you get here?" I inquired, "and what has happened to you since we

parted?"

'"Alas!" replied Izouf, "we were passing a wayside inn from which came

sounds of songs and laughter, and fools that we were--we entered and sat

down. Circassian girls of great beauty were dancing for the amusement of

several men, who not only received us politely, but placed us near the

two loveliest maidens. Our happiness was complete, and time flew unknown

to us, when one of the Circassians leaned forward and said to her

sister, 'Their brother danced, and they must dance too.' What they meant

by these words I know not, but perhaps you can tell us?"

'"I understand quite well," I replied. "They were thinking of the day

that I stole the son of the Bassa, and had danced before him."

'"Perhaps you are right," continued Izouf, "for the two ladies took our

hands and danced with us till we were quite exhausted, and when at last

we sat down a second time to table we drank more wine than was good for

us. Indeed, our heads grew so confused, that when the men jumped up and

threatened to kill us, we could make no resistance and suffered

ourselves to be robbed of everything we had about us, including the most

precious possession of all, the two talismans of the daughters of

Siroco." 'Not knowing what else to do, we all three returned to

Constantinople to ask the advice of Sumi, and found that she was already

aware of our misfortunes, having read about them in the book of Moïzes.

The kind-hearted creature wept bitterly at our story, but, being poor

herself, could give us little help. At last I proposed that every

morning we should sell the silver watch into which Argentine was

changed, as it would return to Sumi every evening unless it was wound up

with the silver key--which was not at all likely. Sumi consented, but

only on the condition that we would never sell the watch without

ascertaining the house where it was to be found, so that she might also

take Aurora thither, and thus Argentine would not be alone if by any

chance she was wound up at the mystic hour. For some weeks now we have

lived by this means, and the two daughters of Siroco have never failed

to return to Sumi each night. Yesterday Izouf sold the silver watch to

this young man, and in the evening placed the gold watch on the steps by

order of Sumi, just before his customer entered the house; from which

both watches came back early this morning.'

'If I had only known!' cried Neangir. 'If I had had more presence of

mind, I should have seen the lovely Argentine, and if her portrait is so

fair, what must the original be!'

'It was not your fault,' replied the Cadi, 'you are no magician; and who

could guess that the watch must be wound at such an hour? But I shall

give orders that the merchant is to hand it over to you, and this

evening you will certainly not forget.'

'It is impossible to let you have it to-day,' answered Izouf, 'for it is

already sold.'

'If that is so,' said the Cadi, 'you must return the three gold pieces

which the young man paid.'

The Jew, delighted to get off so easily, put his hand in his pocket,

when Neangir stopped him.

'No, no,' he exclaimed, 'it is not money I want, but the adorable

Argentine; without her everything is valueless.'

'My dear Cadi,' said the Bassa, 'he is right. The treasure that my son

has lost is absolutely priceless.'

'My lord,' replied the Cadi, 'your wisdom is greater than mine. Give

judgment I pray you in the matter.'

So the Bassa desired them all to accompany him to his house, and

commanded his slaves not to lose sight of the three Jewish brothers.

When they arrived at the door of his dwelling, he noticed two women

sitting on a bench close by, thickly veiled and beautifully dressed.

Their wide satin trousers were embroidered in silver, and their muslin

robes were of the finest texture. In the hand of one was a bag of pink

silk tied with green ribbons, containing something that seemed to move.

At the approach of the Bassa both ladies rose, and came towards him.

Then the one who held the bag addressed him saying, 'Noble lord, buy, I

pray you, this bag, without asking to see what it contains.'

'How much do you want for it?' asked the Bassa.

'Three hundred sequins,' replied the unknown.

At these words the Bassa laughed contemptuously, and passed on without

speaking.

[Illustration: The BASSA laughs at the CIRCASSIANS]

'You will not repent of your bargain,' went on the woman. 'Perhaps if we

come back to-morrow you will be glad to give us the four hundred sequins

we shall then ask. And the next day the price will be five hundred.'

'Come away,' said her companion, taking hold of her sleeve. 'Do not let

us stay here any longer. It may cry, and then our secret will be

discovered.' And so saying, the two young women disappeared.

The Jews were left in the front hall under the care of the slaves, and

Neangir and Sumi followed the Bassa inside the house, which was

magnificently furnished. At one end of a large, brilliantly-lighted room

a lady of about thirty-five years old reclined on a couch, still

beautiful in spite of the sad expression of her face.

'Incomparable Zambac,' said the Bassa, going up to her, 'give me your

thanks, for here is the lost son for whom you have shed so many tears,'

but before his mother could clasp him in her arms Neangir had flung

himself at her feet.

'Let the whole house rejoice with me,' continued the Bassa, 'and let my

two sons Ibrahim and Hassan be told, that they may embrace their

brother.'

'Alas! my lord!' said Zambac, 'do you forget that this is the hour when

Hassan weeps on his hand, and Ibrahim gathers up his coral beads?'

'Let the command of the prophet be obeyed,' replied the Bassa; 'then we

will wait till the evening.'

'Forgive me, noble lord,' interrupted Sumi, 'but what is this mystery?

With the help of the Book of Spells perhaps I may be of some use in the

matter.'

'Sumi,' answered the Bassa, 'I owe you already the happiness of my life;

come with me then, and the sight of my unhappy sons will tell you of our

trouble better than any words of mine.'

The Bassa rose from his divan and drew aside the hangings leading to a

large hall, closely followed by Neangir and Sumi. There they saw two

young men, one about seventeen, and the other nineteen years of age. The

younger was seated before a table, his forehead resting on his right

hand, which he was watering with his tears. He raised his head for a

moment when his father entered, and Neangir and Sumi both saw that this

hand was of ebony.

The other young man was occupied busily in collecting coral beads which

were scattered all over the floor of the room, and as he picked them up

he placed them on the same table where his brother was sitting. He had

already gathered together ninety-eight beads, and thought they were all

there, when they suddenly rolled off the table and he had to begin his

work over again.

'Do you see,' whispered the Bassa, 'for three hours daily one collects

these coral beads, and for the same space of time the other laments over

his hand which has become black, and I am wholly ignorant what is the

cause of either misfortune.'

'Do not let us stay here,' said Sumi, 'our presence must add to their

grief. But permit me to fetch the Book of Spells, which I feel sure

will tell us not only the cause of their malady but also its cure.'

The Bassa readily agreed to Sumi's proposal, but Neangir objected

strongly. 'If Sumi leaves us,' he said to his father, 'I shall not see

my beloved Argentine when she returns to-night with the fair Aurora. And

life is an eternity till I behold her.'

'Be comforted,' replied Sumi. 'I will be back before sunset; and I leave

you my adored Izaf as a pledge.'

Scarcely had the Jewess left Neangir, when the old female slave entered

the hall where the three Jews still remained carefully guarded, followed

by a man whose splendid dress prevented Neangir from recognising at

first as the person in whose house he had dined two days before. But the

woman he knew at once to be the nurse of Zelida.

He started eagerly forward, but before he had time to speak the slave

turned to the soldier she was conducting. 'My lord,' she said, 'those

are the men; I have tracked them from the house of the Cadi to this

palace. They are the same; I am not mistaken, strike and avenge

yourself.'

As he listened the face of the stranger grew scarlet with anger. He drew

his sword and in another moment would have rushed on the Jews, when

Neangir and the slaves of the Bassa seized hold of him.

'What are you doing?' cried Neangir. 'How dare you attack those whom the

Bassa has taken under his protection?'

'Ah, my son,' replied the soldier, 'The Bassa would withdraw his

protection if he knew that these wretches have robbed me of all I have

dearest in the world. He knows them as little as he knows you.'

'But he knows me very well,' replied Neangir, 'for he has recognised me

as his son. Come with me now, into his presence.'

The stranger bowed and passed through the curtain held back by Neangir,

whose surprise was great at seeing his father spring forward and clasp

the soldier in his arms.

'What! is it you, my dear Siroco?' cried he. 'I believed you had been

slain in that awful battle when the followers of the Prophet were put to

flight. But why do your eyes kindle with the flames they shot forth on

that fearful day? Calm yourself and tell me what I can do to help you.

See, I have found my son, let that be a good omen for your happiness

also.'

'I did not guess,' answered Siroco, 'that the son you have so long

mourned had come back to you. Some days since the Prophet appeared to me

in a dream, floating in a circle of light, and he said to me, "Go

to-morrow at sunset to the Galata Gate, and there you will find a young

man whom you must bring home with you. He is the second son of your old

friend the Bassa of the Sea, and that you may make no mistake, put your

fingers in his turban and you will feel the plate on which my name is

engraved in seven different languages."

'I did as I was bid,' went on Siroco, 'and so charmed was I with his

face and manner that I caused him to fall in love with Argentine, whose

portrait I gave him. But at the moment when I was rejoicing in the

happiness before me, and looking forward to the pleasure of restoring

you your son, some drops of the elixir of love were spilt on the table,

and caused a thick vapour to arise, which hid everything. When it had

cleared away he was gone. This morning my old slave informed me that she

had discovered the traitors who had stolen my daughters from me, and I

hastened hither to avenge them. But I place myself in your hands, and

will follow your counsel.'

'Fate will favour us, I am sure,' said the Bassa, 'for this very night I

expect to secure both the silver and the gold watch. So send at once and

pray Zelida to join us.'

A rustling of silken stuffs drew their eyes to the door, and Ibrahim and

Hassan, whose daily penance had by this time been performed, entered to

embrace their brother. Neangir and Hassan, who had also drunk of the

elixir of love, could think of nothing but the beautiful ladies who had

captured their hearts, while the spirits of Ibrahim had been cheered by

the news that the daughter of Moïzes hoped to find in the Book of Spells

some charm to deliver him from collecting the magic beads.

It was some hours later that Sumi returned, bringing with her the sacred

book.

'See,' she said, beckoning to Hassan, 'your destiny is written here.'

And Hassan stooped and read these words in Hebrew: 'His right hand has

become black as ebony from touching the fat of an impure animal, and

will remain so till the last of its race is drowned in the sea.'

[Illustration: SUMI·SHOWS·HASSAN·THE·BOOK·OF·MAGIC]

'Alas!' sighed the unfortunate youth. 'It now comes back to my memory.

One day the slave of Zambac was making a cake. She warned me not to

touch, as the cake was mixed with lard, but I did not heed her, and in

an instant my hand became the ebony that it now is.'

'Holy dervish!' exclaimed the Bassa, 'how true were your words! My son

has neglected the advice you gave him on presenting him the bracelet,

and he has been severely punished. But tell me, O wise Sumi, where I can

find the last of the accursed race who has brought this doom on my son?'

'It is written here,' replied Sumi, turning over some leaves. 'The

little black pig is in the pink bag carried by the two Circassians.'

When he read this the Bassa sank on his cushions in despair.

'Ah,' he said, 'that is the bag that was offered me this morning for

three hundred sequins. Those must be the women who caused Izif and Izouf

to dance, and took from them the two talismans of the daughters of

Siroco. They only can break the spell that has been cast on us. Let

them be found and I will gladly give them the half of my possessions.

Idiot that I was to send them away!'

While the Bassa was bewailing his folly, Ibrahim in his turn had opened

the book, and blushed deeply as he read the words: 'The chaplet of beads

has been defiled by the game of "Odd and Even." Its owner has tried to

cheat by concealing one of the numbers. Let the faithless Moslem seek

for ever the missing bead.'

'O heaven,' cried Ibrahim, 'that unhappy day rises up before me. I had

cut the thread of the chaplet, while playing with Aurora. Holding the

ninety-nine beads in my hand she guessed "Odd," and in order that she

might lose I let one bead fall from my hand. Since then I have sought it

daily, but it never has been found.'

'Holy dervish!' cried the Bassa, 'how true were your words! From the

time that the sacred chaplet was no longer complete, my son has borne

the penalty. But may not the Book of Spells teach us how to deliver

Ibrahim also?'

'Listen,' said Sumi, 'this is what I find: "The coral bead lies in the

fifth fold of the dress of yellow brocade."'

'Ah, what good fortune!' exclaimed the Bassa, 'we shall shortly see the

beautiful Aurora, and Ibrahim shall at once search in the fifth fold of

her yellow brocade. For it is she no doubt of whom the book speaks.'

As the Jewess closed the Book of Moïzes, Zelida appeared, accompanied by

a whole train of slaves and her old nurse. At her entrance Hassan,

beside himself with joy, flung himself on his knees and kissed her hand.

'My lord,' he said to the Bassa, 'pardon me these transports. No elixir

of love was needed to inflame my heart! Let the marriage rite make us

speedily one.'

'My son, are you mad?' asked the Bassa. 'As long as the misfortunes of

your brothers last, shall you alone be happy. And whoever heard of a

bridegroom with a black hand? Wait yet a little longer, till the black

pig is drowned in the sea.'

'Yes! dear Hassan,' said Zelida, 'our happiness will be increased

tenfold when my sisters have regained their proper shapes. And here is

the elixir which I have brought with me, so that their joy may equal

ours.' And she held out the flask to the Bassa, who had it closed in his

presence.

Zambac was filled with joy at the sight of Zelida, and embraced her with

delight. Then she led the way into the garden, and invited all her

friends to seat themselves under the thick overhanging branches of a

splendid jessamine tree. No sooner, however, were they comfortably

settled, than they were astonished to hear a man's voice, speaking

angrily on the other side of the wall.

'Ungrateful girls!' it said, 'is this the way you treat me? Let me hide

myself for ever! This cave is no longer dark enough or deep enough for

me.'

A burst of laughter was the only answer, and the voice continued, 'What

have I done to earn such contempt? Was this what you promised me when I

managed to get for you the talismans of beauty? Is this the reward I

have a right to expect when I have bestowed on you the little black pig,

who is certain to bring you good luck?'

At these words the curiosity of the listeners passed all bounds, and the

Bassa commanded his slaves instantly to tear down the wall. It was done,

but the man was nowhere to be seen, and there were only two girls of

extraordinary beauty, who seemed quite at their ease, and came dancing

gaily on to the terrace. With them was an old slave in whom the Bassa

recognised Gouloucou, the former guardian of Neangir.

[Illustration: THE CIRCASSIANS DANCE INTO THE BASSA'S GARDEN]

Gouloucou shrank with fear when he saw the Bassa, as he expected nothing

less than death at his hands for allowing Neangir to be snatched away.

But the Bassa made him signs of forgiveness, and asked him how he had

escaped death when he had thrown himself from the cliff. Gouloucou

explained that he had been picked up by a dervish who had cured his

wounds, and had then given him as slave to the two young ladies now

before the company, and in their service he had remained ever since.

'But,' said the Bassa, 'where is the little black pig of which the voice

spoke just now?'

'My lord,' answered one of the ladies, 'when at your command the wall

was thrown down, the man whom you heard speaking was so frightened at

the noise that he caught up the pig and ran away.'

'Let him be pursued instantly,' cried the Bassa; but the ladies smiled.

'Do not be alarmed, my lord,' said one, 'he is sure to return. Only give

orders that the entrance to the cave shall be guarded, so that when he

is once in he shall not get out again.'

By this time night was falling and they all went back to the palace,

where coffee and fruits were served in a splendid gallery, near the

women's apartments. The Bassa then ordered the three Jews to be brought

before him, so that he might see whether these were the two damsels who

had forced them to dance at the inn, but to his great vexation it was

found that when their guards had gone to knock down the wall the Jews

had escaped.

At this news the Jewess Sumi turned pale, but glancing at the Book of

Spells her face brightened, and she said half aloud, 'There is no cause

for disquiet; they will capture the dervish,' while Hassan lamented

loudly that as soon as fortune appeared on one side she fled on the

other!

On hearing this reflection one of the Bassa's pages broke into a laugh.

'This fortune comes to us dancing, my lord,' said he, 'and the other

leaves us on crutches. Do not be afraid. She will not go very far.'

The Bassa, shocked at his impertinent interference, desired him to leave

the room and not to come back till he was sent for.

'My lord shall be obeyed,' said the page, 'but when I return, it shall

be in such good company that you will welcome me gladly.' So saying, he

went out.

When they were alone, Neangir turned to the fair strangers and implored

their help. 'My brothers and myself,' he cried, 'are filled with love

for three peerless maidens, two of whom are under a cruel spell. If

their fate happened to be in your hands, would you not do all in your

power to restore them to happiness and liberty?'

But the young man's appeal only stirred the two ladies to anger. 'What,'

exclaimed one, 'are the sorrows of lovers to us? Fate has deprived us of

our lovers, and if it depends on us the whole world shall suffer as much

as we do!'

This unexpected reply was heard with amazement by all present, and the

Bassa entreated the speaker to tell them her story. Having obtained

permission of her sister, she began:

_THE STORY OF THE FAIR CIRCASSIANS_

'We were born in Circassia of poor people, and my sister's name is

Tezila and mine Dely. Having nothing but our beauty to help us in life,

we were carefully trained in all the accomplishments that give pleasure.

We were both quick to learn, and from our childhood could play all sorts

of instruments, could sing, and above all could dance. We were, besides,

lively and merry, as in spite of our misfortunes we are to this day.

'We were easily pleased and quite content with our lives at home, when

one morning the officials who had been sent to find wives for the Sultan

saw us, and were struck with our beauty. We had always expected

something of the sort, and were resigned to our lot, when we chanced to

see two young men enter our house. The elder, who was about twenty years

of age, had black hair and very bright eyes. The other could not have

been more than fifteen, and was so fair that he might easily have passed

for a girl.

'They knocked at the door with a timid air and begged our parents to

give them shelter, as they had lost their way. After some hesitation

their request was granted, and they were invited into the room in which

we were. And if our parents' hearts were touched by their beauty, our

own were not any harder, so that our departure for the palace, which had

been arranged for the next day, suddenly became intolerable to us.

'Night came, and I awoke from my sleep to find the younger of the two

strangers sitting at my bedside and felt him take my hand.

'"Fear nothing, lovely Dely," he whispered, "from one who never knew

love till he saw you. My name," he went on, "is Prince Delicate, and I

am the son of the King of the Isle of Black Marble. My friend, who

travels with me, is one of the richest nobles of my country, and the

secrets which he knows are the envy of the Sultan himself. And we left

our native country because my father wished me to marry a lady of great

beauty, but with one eye a trifle smaller than the other."

'My vanity was flattered at so speedy a conquest, and I was charmed

with the way the young man had declared his passion. I turned my eyes

slowly on him, and the look I gave him caused him almost to lose his

senses. He fell fainting forward, and I was unable to move till Tezila,

who had hastily put on a dress, ran to my assistance together with

Thelamis, the young noble of whom the Prince had spoken.

'As soon as we were all ourselves again we began to bewail our fate, and

the journey that we were to take that very day to Constantinople. But we

felt a little comforted when Thelamis assured us that he and the prince

would follow in our steps, and would somehow contrive to speak to us.

Then they kissed our hands, and left the house by a side-way.

'A few moments later our parents came to tell us that the escort had

arrived, and having taken farewell of them we mounted the camels, and

took our seats in a kind of box that was fixed to the side of the

animal. These boxes were large enough for us to sleep in comfortably,

and as there was a window in the upper part, we were able to see the

country through which we passed.

'For several days we journeyed on, feeling sad and anxious as to what

might become of us, when one day as I was looking out of the window of

our room, I heard my name called, and beheld a beautifully dressed girl

jumping out of the box on the other side of our camel. One glance told

me that it was the prince, and my heart bounded with joy. It was, he

said, Thelamis's idea to disguise him like this, and that he himself had

assumed the character of a slave-dealer who was taking this peerless

maiden as a present to the Sultan. Thelamis had also persuaded the

officer in charge of the caravan to let him hire the vacant box, so it

was easy for the prince to scramble out of his own window and approach

ours.

'This ingenious trick enchanted us, but our agreeable conversation was

soon interrupted by the attendants, who perceived that the camel was

walking in a crooked manner and came to find out what was wrong. Luckily

they were slow in their movements, and the prince had just time to get

back to his own box and restore the balance, before the trick was

discovered.

'But neither the prince nor his friend had any intention of allowing us

to enter the Sultan's palace, though it was difficult to know how we

were to escape, and what was to become of us when once we _had_ escaped.

At length, one day as we were drawing near Constantinople, we learned

from the prince that Thelamis had made acquaintance with a holy dervish

whom he had met on the road, and had informed him that we were his

sisters, who were being sold as slaves against his will. The good man

was interested in the story, and readily agreed to find us shelter if we

could manage to elude the watchfulness of our guards. The risk was

great, but it was our only chance.

'That night, when the whole caravan was fast asleep, we raised the upper

part of our boxes and by the help of Thelamis climbed silently out. We

next went back some distance along the way we had come, then, striking

into another road, reached at last the retreat prepared for us by the

dervish. Here we found food and rest, and I need not say what happiness

it was to be free once more.

'The dervish soon became a slave to our beauty, and the day after our

escape he proposed that we should allow him to conduct us to an inn

situated at a short distance, where we should find two Jews, owners of

precious talismans which did not really belong to them. "Try," said the

dervish, "by some means to get possession of them."

'The inn, though not on the direct road to Constantinople, was a

favourite one with merchants, owing to the excellence of the food, and

on our arrival we discovered at least six or eight other people who had

stopped for refreshment. They greeted us politely, and we sat down to

table together.

'In a short time the two men described by the dervish entered the room,

and at a sign from him my sister made room at her side for one, while I

did the same for the other.

'Now the dervish had happened to mention that "their brother had

danced." At the moment we paid no attention to this remark, but it came

back to our minds now, and we determined that they should dance also. To

accomplish this we used all our arts and very soon bent them to our

wills, so that they could refuse us nothing. At the end of the day we

remained possessors of the talismans and had left them to their fate,

while the Prince and Thelamis fell more in love with us than ever, and

declared that we were more lovely than any women in the world.

'The sun had set before we quitted the inn, and we had made no plans as

to where we should go next, so we readily consented to the prince's

proposal that we should embark without delay for the Isle of Black

Marble. What a place it was! Rocks blacker than jet towered above its

shores and shed thick darkness over the country. Our sailors had not

been there before and were nearly as frightened as ourselves, but thanks

to Thelamis, who undertook to be our pilot, we landed safely on the

beach.

'When we had left the coast behind us, with its walls of jet, we entered

a lovely country where the fields were greener, the streams clearer, and

the sun brighter than anywhere else. The people crowded round to welcome

their prince, whom they loved dearly, but they told him that the king

was still full of rage at his son's refusal to marry his cousin the

Princess Okimpare, and also at his flight. Indeed, they all begged him

not to visit the capital, as his life would hardly be safe. So, much as

I should have enjoyed seeing the home of my beloved prince, I implored

him to listen to this wise advice and to let us all go to Thelamis's

palace in the middle of a vast forest.

'To my sister and myself, who had been brought up in a cottage, this

house of Thelamis's seemed like fairyland. It was built of pink marble,

so highly polished that the flowers and streams surrounding it were

reflected as in a mirror. One set of rooms was furnished especially for

me in yellow silk and silver, to suit my black hair. Fresh dresses were

provided for us every day, and we had slaves to wait on us. Ah, why

could not this happiness have lasted for ever!

'The peace of our lives was troubled by Thelamis's jealousy of my

sister, as he could not endure to see her on friendly terms with the

prince, though knowing full well that his heart was mine. Every day we

had scenes of tender reproaches and of explanations, but Tezila's tears

never failed to bring Thelamis to his knees, with prayers for

forgiveness.

'We had been living in this way for some months when one day the news

came that the king had fallen dangerously ill. I begged the prince to

hurry at once to the court, both to see his father and also to show

himself to the senators and nobles, but as his love for me was greater

than his desire of a crown, he hesitated as if foreseeing all that

afterwards happened. At last Tezila spoke to him so seriously in

Thelamis's presence, that he determined to go, but promised that he

would return before night.

'Night came but no prince, and Tezila, who had been the cause of his

departure, showed such signs of uneasiness that Thelamis's jealousy was

at once awakened. As for me, I cannot tell what I suffered. Not being

able to sleep I rose from my bed and wandered into the forest, along the

road which he had taken so many hours before. Suddenly I heard in the

distance the sound of a horse's hoofs, and in a few moments the prince

had flung himself down and was by my side. "Ah, how I adore you!" he

exclaimed, "Thelamis's love will never equal mine." The words were

hardly out of his mouth when I heard a slight noise behind, and before

we could turn round both our heads were rolling in front of us, while

the voice of Thelamis cried:

'"Perjured wretches, answer me; and you, faithless Tezila, tell me why

you have betrayed me like this?"

'Then I understood what had happened, and that in his rage, he had

mistaken me for my sister.

'"Alas," replied my head in weak tones, "I am not Tezila, but Dely,

whose life you have destroyed, as well as that of your friend." At this

Thelamis paused and seemed to reflect for an instant.

'"Be not frightened," he said more quietly, "I can make you whole

again," and laying a magic powder on our tongues he placed our heads on

our necks. In the twinkling of an eye our heads were joined to our

bodies without leaving so much as a scar; only that, blinded with rage

as he still was, Thelamis had placed my head on the prince's body, and

his on mine!

[Illustration: THE WRONG HEADS ON THE WRONG BODIES]

'I cannot describe to you how odd we both felt at this strange

transformation. We both instinctively put up our hands--he to feel his

hair, which was, of course, dressed like a woman, and I to raise the

turban which pressed heavily on my forehead. But we did not know what

had happened to us, for the night was still dark.

'At this point Tezila appeared, followed by a troop of slaves bearing

flowers. It was only by the light of their torches that we understood

what had occurred. Indeed the first thought of both of us was that we

must have changed clothes.

'Now in spite of what we may say, we all prefer our own bodies to those

of anybody else, so notwithstanding our love for each other, at first we

could not help feeling a little cross with Thelamis. However, so deep

was the prince's passion for me, that very soon he began to congratulate

himself on the change. "My happiness is perfect," he said, "my heart,

beautiful Dely, has always been yours, and now I have your head also."

'But though the prince made the best of it, Thelamis was much ashamed of

his stupidity. "I have," he said hesitatingly, "two other pastilles

which have the same magic properties as those I used before. Let me cut

off your heads again, and that will put matters straight." The proposal

sounded tempting, but was a little risky, and after consulting together

we decided to let things remain as they were. "Do not blame me then,"

continued Thelamis, "if you will not accept my offer. But take the two

pastilles, and if it ever happens that you are decapitated a second

time, make use of them in the way I have shown you, and each will get

back his own head." So saying he presented us with the pastilles, and we

all returned to the castle.

'However, the troubles caused by the unfortunate exchange were only just

beginning. My head, without thinking what it was doing, led the prince's

body to my apartments. But my women, only looking at the dress, declared

I had mistaken the corridor, and called some slaves to conduct me to his

Highness's rooms. This was bad enough, but when--as it was still

night--my servants began to undress me, I nearly fainted from surprise

and confusion, and no doubt the Prince's head was suffering in the same

manner at the other end of the castle!

'By the next morning--you will easily guess that we slept but little--we

had grown partly accustomed to our strange situation, and when we looked

in the mirror, the prince had become brown-skinned and black-haired,

while my head was covered with his curly golden locks. And after that

first day, every one in the palace had become so accustomed to the

change that they thought no more about it.

'Some weeks after this, we heard that the king of the Isle of Black

Marble was dead. The prince's head, which once was mine, was full of

ambitious desires, and he longed to ride straight to the capital and

proclaim himself king. But then came the question as to whether the

nobles would recognise the prince with a girl's body, and indeed, when

we came to think of it, which was prince and which was girl?

'At last, after much argument, my head carried the day and we set out;

but only to find that the king had declared the Princess Okimpare his

successor. The greater part of the senators and nobles openly professed

that they would much have preferred the rightful heir, but as they could

not recognise him either in the Prince or me, they chose to consider us

as impostors and threw us into prison.

'A few days later Tezila and Thelamis, who had followed us to the

capital, came to tell us that the new queen had accused us of high

treason, and had herself been present at our trial--which was conducted

without us. They had been in mortal terror as to what would be our

sentence, but by a piece of extraordinary luck we had been condemned to

be beheaded.

'I told my sister that I did not see exactly where the luck came in, but

Thelamis interrupted me rudely:

'"What!" he cried, "of course I shall make use of the pastilles,

and----" but here the officers arrived to lead us to the great square

where the execution was to take place--for Okimpare was determined there

should be no delay.

'The square was crowded with people of all ages and all ranks, and in

the middle a platform had been erected on which was the scaffold, with

the executioner, in a black mask, standing by. At a sign from him I

mounted first, and in a moment my head was rolling at his feet. With a

bound my sister and Thelamis were beside me, and like lightning Thelamis

seized the sabre from the heads-man, and cut off the head of the prince.

And before the multitude had recovered from their astonishment at these

strange proceedings, our bodies were joined to our right heads, and the

pastilles placed on our tongues. Then Thelamis led the prince to the

edge of the platform and presented him to the people, saying "Behold

your lawful king."

'Shouts of joy rent the air at the sound of Thelamis's words, and the

noise reached Okimpare in the palace. Smitten with despair at the news,

she fell down unconscious on her balcony, and was lifted up by the

slaves and taken back to her own house.

'Meanwhile our happiness was all turned to sorrow. I had rushed up to

the prince to embrace him fondly, when he suddenly grew pale and

staggered.

'"I die faithful to you," he murmured, turning his eyes towards me, "and

I die a king!" and leaning his head on my shoulder he expired quietly,

for one of the arteries in his neck had been cut through.

'Not knowing what I did I staggered towards the sabre which was lying

near me, with the intention of following my beloved prince as speedily

as possible. And when Thelamis seized my hand (but only just in time),

in my madness I turned the sabre upon him, and he fell struck through

the heart at my feet.'

* * * * *

The whole company were listening to the story with breathless attention,

when it became plain that Dely could go no further, while Tezila had

flung herself on a heap of cushions and hidden her face. Zambac ordered

her women to give them all the attention possible, and desired they

should be carried into her own rooms.

When the two sisters were in this condition, Ibrahim, who was a very

prudent young man, suggested to his parents that as the two Circassians

were both unconscious, it would be an excellent opportunity to search

them and see if the talismans belonging to the daughters of Siroco were

concealed about their persons. But the Bassa, shocked at the notion of

treating his guests in so inhospitable a manner, refused to do anything

of the kind, adding that the next day he hoped to persuade them to give

the talismans up of their own free will.

By this time it was nearly midnight and Neangir, who was standing near

the Jewess Sumi, drew out the portrait of Argentine, and heard with

delight that she was even more beautiful than her picture. Every one was

waiting on tiptoe for the appearance of the two watches, who were

expected when the clock struck twelve to come in search of Sumi, and

that there might be no delay the Bassa ordered all the doors to be flung

wide open. It was done, and there entered not the longed-for watches,

but the page who had been sent away in disgrace.

Then the Bassa arose in wrath. 'Azemi,' he said, 'did I not order you to

stand no more in my presence?'

'My lord,' replied Azemi, modestly, 'I was hidden outside the door,

listening to the tale of the two Circassians. And as I know you are fond

of stories, give me also leave to tell you one. I promise you it shall

not be long.'

'Speak on,' replied the Bassa, 'but take heed what you say.'

'My lord,' began Azemi, 'this morning I was walking in the town when I

noticed a man going in the same direction followed by a slave. He

entered a baker's shop, where he bought some bread which he gave to the

slave to carry. I watched him and saw that he purchased many other kinds

of provisions at other places, and when the slave could carry no more

his master commanded him to return home and have supper ready at

midnight.

'When left alone the man went up the street, and turning into a

jeweller's shop, brought out a watch that as far as I could see was made

of silver. He walked on a few steps, then stooped and picked up a gold

watch which lay at his feet. At this point I ran up and told him that if

he did not give me half its price I would report him to the Cadi; he

agreed, and conducting me to his house produced four hundred sequins,

which he said was my share, and having got what I wanted I went away.

'As it was the hour for attending on my lord I returned home and

accompanied you to the Cadi, where I heard the story of the three Jews

and learned the importance of the two watches I had left at the

stranger's. I hastened to his house, but he had gone out, and I could

only find the slave, whom I told that I was the bearer of important news

for his master. Believing me to be one of his friends, he begged me to

wait, and showed me into a room where I saw the two watches lying on the

table. I put them in my pocket, leaving the four hundred sequins in

place of the gold watch and three gold pieces which I knew to be the

price of the other. As you know the watches never remain with the person

who buys them, this man may think himself very lucky to get back his

money. I have wound them both up, and at this instant Aurora and

Argentine are locked safely into my own room.'

Everybody was so delighted to hear this news that Azemi was nearly

stifled with their embraces, and Neangir could hardly be prevented from

running to break in the door, though he did not even know where the page

slept.

But the page begged to have the honour of fetching the ladies himself,

and soon returned leading them by the hand.

For some minutes all was a happy confusion, and Ibrahim took advantage

of it to fall on his knees before Aurora, and search in the fifth fold

of her dress for the missing coral bead. The Book of Spells had told the

truth; there it was, and as the chaplet was now complete the young man's

days of seeking were over.

In the midst of the general rejoicing Hassan alone bore a gloomy face.

'Alas!' he said, 'everyone is happy but the miserable being you see

before you. I have lost the only consolation in my grief, which was to

feel that I had a brother in misfortune!'

'Be comforted,' replied the Bassa; 'sooner or later the dervish who

stole the pink bag is sure to be found.'

Supper was then served, and after they had all eaten of rare fruits

which seemed to them the most delicious in the whole world, the Bassa

ordered the flask containing the elixir of love to be brought and the

young people to drink of it. Then their eyes shone with a new fire, and

they swore to be true to each other till death.

This ceremony was scarcely over when the clock struck one, and in an

instant Aurora and Argentine had vanished, and in the place where they

stood lay two watches. Silence fell upon all the company--they had

forgotten the enchantment; then the voice of Azemi was heard asking if

he might be allowed to take charge of the watches till the next day,

pledging his head to end their enchantment. With the consent of Sumi,

this was granted, and the Bassa gave Azemi a purse containing a thousand

sequins, as a reward for the services he had already rendered to them.

After this everybody went to his own apartment.

Azemi had never possessed so much money before, and never closed his

eyes for joy the whole night long. Very early he got up and went into

the garden, thinking how he could break the enchantment of the daughters

of Siroco. Suddenly the soft tones of a woman fell on his ear, and

peeping through the bushes he saw Tezila, who was arranging flowers in

her sister's hair. The rustling of the leaves caused Dely to start; she

jumped up as if to fly, but Azemi implored her to remain and begged her

to tell him what happened to them after the death of their lovers, and

how they had come to find the dervish.

'The punishment decreed to us by the Queen Okimpare,' answered Dely,

'was that we were to dance and sing in the midst of our sorrow, at a

great fête which was to be held that very day for all her people. This

cruel command nearly turned our brains, and we swore a solemn oath to

make all lovers as wretched as we were ourselves. In this design we

succeeded so well that in a short time the ladies of the capital came in

a body to Okimpare, and prayed her to banish us from the kingdom, before

their lives were made miserable for ever. She consented, and commanded

us to be placed on board a ship, with our slave Gouloucou.

'On the shore we saw an old man who was busily engaged in drowning some

little black pigs, talking to them all the while, as if they could

understand him.

[Illustration: The Dervish drowning the Pigs]

'"Accursed race," said he, "it is you who have caused all the

misfortunes of him to whom I gave the magic bracelet. Perish all of

you!"

'We drew near from curiosity, and recognised in him the dervish who had

sheltered us on our first escape from the caravan.

'When the old man discovered who we were he was beside himself with

pleasure, and offered us a refuge in the cave where he lived. We gladly

accepted his offer, and to the cave we all went, taking with us the last

little pig, which he gave us as a present.

'"The Bassa of the Sea," he added, "will pay you anything you like to

ask for it."

'Without asking why it was so precious I took the pig and placed it in

my work bag, where it has been ever since. Only yesterday we offered it

to the Bassa, who laughed at us, and this so enraged us against the

dervish that we cut off his beard when he was asleep, and now he dare

not show himself.'

'Ah,' exclaimed the page, 'it is not fitting that such beauty should

waste itself in making other people miserable. Forget the unhappy past

and think only of the future. And accept, I pray you, this watch, to

mark the brighter hours in store.' So saying he laid the watch upon her

knee. Then he turned to Tezila. 'And you, fair maiden, permit me to

offer you this other watch. True it is only of silver, but it is all I

have left to give. And I feel quite sure that you must have somewhere a

silver seal, that will be exactly the thing to go with it.'

'Why, so you have,' cried Dely; 'fasten your silver seal to your watch,

and I will hang my gold one on to mine.'

The seals were produced, and, as Azemi had guessed, they were the

talismans which the two Circassians had taken from Izif and Izouf,

mounted in gold and silver. As quick as lightning the watches slid from

the hands of Tezila and her sister, and Aurora and Argentine stood

before them, each with her talisman on her finger.

At first they seemed rather confused themselves at the change which had

taken place, and the sunlight which they had not seen for so long, but

when gradually they understood that their enchantment had come to an

end, they could find no words to express their happiness.

The Circassians could with difficulty be comforted for the loss of the

talismans, but Aurora and Argentine entreated them to dry their tears,

as their father, Siroco, who was governor of Alexandria, would not fail

to reward them in any manner they wished. This promise was soon

confirmed by Siroco himself, who came into the garden with the Bassa and

his two sons, and was speedily joined by the ladies of the family. Only

Hassan was absent. It was the hour in which he was condemned to bewail

his ebony hand.

To the surprise of all a noise was at this moment heard in a corner of

the terrace, and Hassan himself appeared surrounded by slaves, clapping

his hands and shouting with joy. 'I was weeping as usual,' cried he,

'when all at once the tears refused to come to my eyes, and on looking

down at my hand I saw that its blackness had vanished. And now, lovely

Zelida, nothing prevents me any longer from offering you the hand, when

the heart has been yours always.'

But though Hassan never thought of asking or caring what had caused his

cure, the others were by no means so indifferent. It was quite clear

that the little black pig must be dead--but how, and when? To this the

slaves answered that they had seen that morning a man pursued by three

others, and that he had taken refuge in the cavern which they had been

left to guard. Then, in obedience to orders, they had rolled a stone

over the entrance.

Piercing shrieks interrupted their story, and a man, whom the

Circassians saw to be the old dervish, rushed round the corner of the

terrace with the three Jews behind him. When the fugitive beheld so many

people collected together, he turned down another path, but the slaves

captured all four and brought them before their master.

What was the surprise of the Bassa when he beheld in the old dervish the

man who had given the chaplet, the copper plate, and the bracelet to his

three sons. 'Fear nothing, holy father,' he said, 'you are safe with me.

But tell us, how came you here?'

'My lord,' explained the dervish, 'when my beard was cut off during my

sleep by the two Circassians, I was ashamed to appear before the eyes of

men, and fled, bearing with me the pink silk bag. In the night these

three men fell in with me, and we passed some time in conversation, but

at dawn, when it was light enough to see each other's faces, one of them

exclaimed that I was the dervish travelling with the two Circassians who

had stolen the talismans from the Jews. I jumped up and tried to fly to

my cave, but they were too quick for me, and just as we reached your

garden they snatched the bag which contained the little black pig and

flung it into the sea. By this act, which delivers your son, I would

pray you to forgive them for any wrongs they may have done you--nay

more, that you will recompense them for it.'

The Bassa granted the holy man's request, and seeing that the two Jews

had fallen victims to the charms of the Circassian ladies, gave his

consent to their union, which was fixed to take place at the same time

as that of Izaf with the wise Sumi. The Cadi was sent for, and the Jews

exchanged the hats of their race for the turbans of the followers of the

Prophet. Then, after so many misfortunes, the Bassa's three sons

entreated their father to delay their happiness no longer, and the six

marriages were performed by the Cadi at the hour of noon.

[_Cabinet des Fées._]

_THE JACKAL AND THE SPRING_

Once upon a time all the streams and rivers ran so dry that the animals

did not know how to get water. After a very long search, which had been

quite in vain, they found a tiny spring, which only wanted to be dug

deeper so as to yield plenty of water. So the beasts said to each other,

'Let us dig a well, and then we shall not fear to die of thirst;' and

they all consented except the jackal, who hated work of any kind, and

generally got somebody to do it for him.

When they had finished their well, they held a council as to who should

be made the guardian of the well, so that the jackal might not come near

it, for, they said, 'he would not work, therefore he shall not drink.'

After some talk it was decided that the rabbit should be left in charge;

then all the other beasts went back to their homes.

When they were out of sight the jackal arrived. 'Good morning! Good

morning, rabbit!' and the rabbit politely said, 'Good morning!' Then the

jackal unfastened the little bag that hung at his side, and pulled out

of it a piece of honeycomb which he began to eat, and turning to the

rabbit he remarked:

'As you see, rabbit, I am not thirsty in the least, and this is nicer

than any water.'

'Give me a bit,' asked the rabbit. So the jackal handed him a very

little morsel.

'Oh, how good it is!' cried the rabbit; 'give me a little more, dear

friend!'

But the jackal answered, 'If you really want me to give you some more,

you must have your paws tied behind you, and lie on your back, so that I

can pour it into your mouth.'

The rabbit did as he was bid, and when he was tied tight and popped on

his back, the jackal ran to the spring and drank as much as he wanted.

When he had quite finished he returned to his den.

In the evening the animals all came back, and when they saw the rabbit

lying with his paws tied, they said to him: 'Rabbit, how did you let

yourself be taken in like this?'

'It was all the fault of the jackal,' replied the rabbit; 'he tied me up

like this, and told me he would give me something nice to eat. It was

all a trick just to get at our water.'

'Rabbit, you are no better than an idiot to have let the jackal drink

our water when he would not help to find it. Who shall be our next

watchman? We must have somebody a little sharper than you!' and the

little hare called out, 'I will be the watchman.'

The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving

the little hare to guard the spring. When they were out of sight the

jackal came back. 'Good morning! good morning, little hare,' and the

little hare politely said, 'Good morning.'

'Can you give me a pinch of snuff?' said the jackal.

'I am so sorry, but I have none,' answered the little hare.

The jackal then came and sat down by the little hare, and unfastened his

little bag, pulling out of it a piece of honeycomb. He licked his lips

and exclaimed, 'Oh, little hare, if you only knew how good it is!'

'What is it?' asked the little hare.

'It is something that moistens my throat so deliciously,' answered the

jackal, 'that after I have eaten it I don't feel thirsty any more, while

I am sure that all you other beasts are for ever wanting water.'

'Give me a bit, dear friend,' asked the little hare.

'Not so fast,' replied the jackal. 'If you really wish to enjoy what

you are eating, you must have your paws tied behind you, and lie on your

back, so that I can pour it into your mouth.'

'You can tie them, only be quick,' said the little hare, and when he was

tied tight and popped on his back, the jackal went quietly down to the

well, and drank as much as he wanted. When he had quite finished he

returned to his den.

In the evening the animals all came back; and when they saw the little

hare with his paws tied, they said to him: 'Little hare, how did you let

yourself be taken in like this? Didn't you boast you were very sharp?

You undertook to guard our water; now show us how much is left for us to

drink!'

'It is all the fault of the jackal,' replied the little hare, 'He told

me he would give me something nice to eat if I would just let him tie my

hands behind my back.'

Then the animals said, 'Who can we trust to mount guard now?' And the

panther answered, 'Let it be the tortoise.'

The following morning the animals all went their various ways, leaving

the tortoise to guard the spring. When they were out of sight the jackal

came back. 'Good morning, tortoise; good morning.'

But the tortoise took no notice.

'Good morning, tortoise; good morning.' But still the tortoise pretended

not to hear.

Then the jackal said to himself, 'Well, to-day I have only got to manage

a bigger idiot than before. I shall just kick him on one side, and then

go and have a drink.' So he went up to the tortoise and said to him in a

soft voice, 'Tortoise! tortoise!' but the tortoise took no notice. Then

the jackal kicked him out of the way, and went to the well and began to

drink, but scarcely had he touched the water, than the tortoise seized

him by the leg. The jackal shrieked out: 'Oh, you will break my leg!'

but the tortoise only held on the tighter. The jackal then took his bag

and tried to make the tortoise smell the honeycomb he had inside; but

the tortoise turned away his head and smelt nothing. At last the jackal

said to the tortoise, 'I should like to give you my bag and everything

in it,' but the only answer the tortoise made was to grasp the jackal's

leg tighter still.

So matters stood when the other animals came back. The moment he saw

them, the jackal gave a violent tug, and managed to free his leg, and

then took to his heels as fast as he could. And the animals all said to

the tortoise:

'Well done, tortoise, you have proved your courage; now we can drink

from our well in peace, as you have got the better of that thieving

jackal!'

[_Contes Populaires des Bassoutos_; recueilli et traduits par E.

Jacottet. Paris: Leroux, éditeur.]

_THE BEAR_

Once on a time there was a king who had an only daughter. He was so

proud and so fond of her, that he was in constant terror that something

would happen to her if she went outside the palace, and thus, owing to

his great love for her, he forced her to lead the life of a prisoner,

shut up within her own rooms.

The princess did not like this at all, and one day she complained about

it very bitterly to her nurse. Now, the nurse was a witch, though the

king did not know it. For some time she listened and tried to soothe the

princess; but when she saw that she would not be comforted, she said to

her: 'Your father loves you very dearly, as you know. Whatever you were

to ask from him he would give you. The one thing he will not grant you

is permission to leave the palace. Now, do as I tell you. Go to your

father and ask him to give you a wooden wheel-barrow, and a bear's skin.

When you have got them bring them to me, and I will touch them with my

magic wand. The wheel-barrow will then move of itself, and will take you

at full speed wherever you want to go, and the bear's skin will make

such a covering for you, that no one will recognise you.'

So the princess did as the witch advised her. The king, when he heard

her strange request, was greatly astonished, and asked her what she

meant to do with a wheel-barrow and a bear's skin. And the princess

answered, 'You never let me leave the house--at least you might grant me

this request.' So the king granted it, and the princess went back to her

nurse, taking the barrow and the bear's skin with her.

As soon as the witch saw them, she touched them with her magic wand, and

in a moment the barrow began to move about in all directions. The

princess next put on the bear's skin, which so completely changed her

appearance, that no one could have known that she was a girl and not a

bear. In this strange attire she seated herself on the barrow, and in a

few minutes she found herself far away from the palace, and moving

rapidly through a great forest. Here she stopped the barrow with a sign

that the witch had shown her, and hid herself and it in a thick grove of

flowering shrubs.

Now it happened that the prince of that country was hunting with his

dogs in the forest. Suddenly he caught sight of the bear hiding among

the shrubs, and calling his dogs, hounded them on to attack it. But the

girl, seeing what peril she was in, cried, 'Call off your dogs, or they

will kill me. What harm have I ever done to you?' At these words, coming

from a bear, the prince was so startled that for a moment he stood

stock-still, then he said quite gently, 'Will you come with me? I will

take you to my home.'

'I will come gladly,' replied the bear; and seating herself on the

barrow it at once began to move in the direction of the prince's palace.

You may imagine the surprise of the prince's mother when she saw her son

return accompanied by a bear, who at once set about doing the house-work

better than any servant that the queen had ever seen.

Now it happened that there were great festivities going on in the palace

of a neighbouring prince, and at dinner, one day, the prince said to his

mother: 'This evening there is to be a great ball, to which I must go.'