The two enchanted birds wandered sadly on through the meadows. In
their misery they could not think what to do next. They could not rid
themselves of their new forms; there was no use in returning to the town
and saying who they were; for who would believe a stork who announced
that he was a Caliph; and even if they did believe him, would the people
of Bagdad consent to let a stork rule over them?
So they lounged about for several days, supporting themselves on fruits,
which, however, they found some difficulty in eating with their long
bills. They did not much care to eat frogs or lizards. Their one comfort
in their sad plight was the power of flying, and accordingly they often
flew over the roofs of Bagdad to see what was going on there.
During the first few days they noticed signs of much disturbance and
distress in the streets, but about the fourth day, as they sat on the
roof of the palace, they perceived a splendid procession passing below
them along the street. Drums and trumpets sounded, a man in a scarlet
mantle, embroidered in gold, sat on a splendidly caparisoned horse
surrounded by richly dressed slaves; half Bagdad crowded after him, and
they all shouted, ‘Hail, Mirza, the Lord of Bagdad!’
The two storks on the palace roof looked at each other, and Caliph
Chasid said, ‘Can you guess now, Grand Vizier, why I have been
enchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty magician
Kaschnur, who in an evil moment vowed vengeance on me. Still I will not
despair! Come with me, my faithful friend; we will go to the grave of
the Prophet, and perhaps at that sacred spot the spell may be loosed.’
They rose from the palace roof, and spread their wings toward Medina.
But flying was not quite an easy matter, for the two storks had had but
little practice as yet.
‘Oh, my Lord!’ gasped the Vizier, after a couple of hours, ‘I can get
on no longer; you really fly too quick for me. Besides, it is nearly
evening, and we should do well to find some place in which to spend the
night.’
Chasid listened with favour to his servant’s suggestion, and perceiving
in the valley beneath them a ruin which seemed to promise shelter they
flew towards it. The building in which they proposed to pass the night
had apparently been formerly a castle. Some handsome pillars still stood
amongst the heaps of ruins, and several rooms, which yet remained in
fair preservation, gave evidence of former splendour. Chasid and his
companion wandered along the passages seeking a dry spot, when suddenly
Mansor stood still.
‘My Lord and master,’ he whispered, ‘if it were not absurd for a Grand
Vizier, and still more for a stork, to be afraid of ghosts, I should
feel quite nervous, for someone, or something close by me, has sighed
and moaned quite audibly.’
The Caliph stood still and distinctly heard a low weeping sound which
seemed to proceed from a human being rather than from any animal. Full
of curiosity he was about to rush towards the spot from whence the
sounds of woe came, when the Vizier caught him by the wing with his
bill, and implored him not to expose himself to fresh and unknown
dangers. The Caliph, however, under whose stork’s breast a brave heart
beat, tore himself away with the loss of a few feathers, and hurried
down a dark passage. He saw a door which stood ajar, and through which
he distinctly heard sighs, mingled with sobs. He pushed open the door
with his bill, but remained on the threshold, astonished at the sight
which met his eyes. On the floor of the ruined chamber--which was but
scantily lighted by a small barred window--sat a large screech owl. Big
tears rolled from its large round eyes, and in a hoarse voice it uttered
its complaints through its crooked beak. As soon as it saw the Caliph
and his Vizier--who had crept up meanwhile--it gave vent to a joyful
cry. It gently wiped the tears from its eyes with its spotted brown
wings, and to the great amazement of the two visitors, addressed them in
good human Arabic.
‘Welcome, ye storks! You are a good sign of my deliverance, for it was
foretold me that a piece of good fortune should befall me through a
stork.’
When the Caliph had recovered from his surprise, he drew up his feet
into a graceful position, bent his long neck, and said: ‘Oh, screech
owl! from your words I am led to believe that we see in you a companion
in misfortune. But, alas! your hope that you may attain your deliverance
through us is but a vain one. You will know our helplessness when you
have heard our story.’
The screech owl begged him to relate it, and the Caliph accordingly told
him what we already know.