When it was evening they went, the tamer and the red-coloured dog
together, into a grove to sleep, and by day they journeyed on. One day,
when they made their evening halt, the red-coloured dog laid aside her
dog's form, and appeared as a beautiful maiden, clothed in shining
robes of white, and with a crown of white flowers on her head; and,
when the tamer saw her, he loved her.
Moreover, she said to him, "Me hath the Serpent-king given to thee to
be thy wife." And he married her, and she was his wife. Every morning
she put on the form of the red-coloured dog again, and they journeyed
on. One morning, however, before she put on the dog form, she went
down to bathe in the river, and while she was gone, the man burnt the
dog form, saying, "Now must she always remain as a beautiful woman."
But when she came up from bathing, and found what he had done, she
said, with many other moving and sorrowful words, "Now can I no more
walk with thee, and share thy wanderings."
So they remained in that place.
Again, another day she went down to bathe in the river, and as she
bathed some of her hairs falling off, were carried down the stream.
At a place near the mouth of the stream, a maid belonging to the
service of the Khan had gone down to fetch water, and these hairs
came out of the water clinging to her water-jar. And as the hairs
were wonderful to behold, being adorned with the five colours and the
seven precious things (1), she wondered at them, and brought them to
the Khan for him to see.
The Khan had no sooner examined them than he came to this conclusion,
saying,--
"Somewhere along the course of this stream it is evident there must
be living a surpassingly beautiful woman. Only to such an one could
these hairs belong."
Then he called the captain of his guard, and bid him take of armed
men as many as ever he would, and by all means to bring unto him the
woman to whom these hairs belonged. Thus he instructed him.
But the woman had knowledge of what was going forward, and she came
weeping to her husband, and showed the thing to him, "And now,"
she said, "the Khan's soldiers will surround the place, neither is
there any way of escape, nor any that can withstand the orders of the
Khan. Hadst thou not burnt the red dog form, then had I had a means
of refuge."
Then the man wept too, and would have persuaded her to escape, but
she said,--
"It skills not, for they would pursue us and overtake us, and put you
to death out of revenge. By going at their command without resistance,
at least they will save you alive."
While they were speaking the captain of the Khan's guard came with
his men-at-arms, and posted them about the place. Then, while they
were taking their measures to completely surround the inclosure that
the woman might by no means break through, she said to her husband,--
"The only remedy that remains is that thou wait quietly for the space
of a year, and in the meantime I will arrange a stratagem. Then on the
fifteenth day of the month Pushja (2), I will go up on to the edge
of a mountain with the Khan. But thou, meantime, make to thyself a
garment of magpie's feathers, then come and dance before us, in it;
and I will invent some plan for escaping with thee."
Thus she advised him. And the soldiers came and took her to the Khan;
the husband making no resistance, even as she had counselled him.
Also, he let a year pass according to her word; but being alone, and
in distress for the loss of his wife, he neglected his work and his
business, and came to poverty. Then bethought he him of the word of
the White Serpent-king, saying, "There shall come a season when thou
shalt be in poverty." So he took out his Mirjalaktschi, and touched
it with the mother-o'pearl-wand, and it gave him all manner of food,
and he lived in abundance. Then he set snares, and caught magpies,
exceeding many, and made to himself a covering out of their feathers,
and practised himself in dancing grotesque dances.
On the fifteenth day of the month Pushja, the Khanin arranged to go
with the Khan to visit the mountain. On the same day the husband came
there also, dressed even as she had directed him, in a costume made
of magpie's feathers. Having first attracted the attention of the
Khan by his extraordinary appearance, he began dancing and performing
ludicrous antics.
The Khan, who was by this time tired of the songs of the foreign
minstrel, nor had found any to replace the gold frog and the parrot,
observed him with great attention. But the Khanin seeing how exact
and expert her husband was in following out her advice for recovering
her, felt quite happy as she had never done before since she was
taken from him; and to encourage him to go on dancing she laughed
loud and merrily.
The Khan was astonished, when he saw her laugh thus, and he said,
"Although for a whole year past I have devised every variety of
means to endeavour to make thee at least bear some appearance of
cheerfulness, it has profited nothing; for thou hast sat and mourned
all the day long, nor has any thing had power to divert thee. Yet
now that this man, who is more like a monster than a man, has come
and made all these ridiculous contortions, at this thou hast laughed!"
And she, having fixed in her own mind the part she had to play,
continued laughing, as she answered him,--
"All this year, even as thou sayest, thou hast laboured to make me
laugh; and now that I have laughed, it would seem almost that it
pleaseth thee not."
And the Khan hasted to make answer, "Nay, for in that thou hast laughed
thou hast given me pleasure; but in that it was at a diversion which
another prepared for thee, and not I, this is what pleased me not. I
would that thou hadst laughed at a sport devised for thee by me."
Then answered the Khanin, "Wouldst thou in very truth prepare for me
a sport at which I would surely laugh?"
And the Khan hasted to make answer, "That would I in very truth;
thou knowest that there is nothing I would not do to fulfil thy
bidding and desire."
"If that be so," replied the Khanin. "Know that there is one thing
at which I would laugh in right good earnest; and that is, if it were
thou who worest this monstrous costume. That this fellow weareth it is
well enough, but we know not how monstrous he may be by nature. But if
thou, O Khan, who art so comely of form and stature, didst put it on,
then would it be a sight to make one laugh indeed."
And her words pleased the Khan. So he called the man aside into a
solitary place that the courtiers and people might not see what he did,
and so become a laughing-stock to them. Then he made the man exchange
his costume of magpie's feathers against his royal attire and mantle,
and went to dance before the Khanin, bidding the man take his place
by her side.
No sooner, however, did the Khanin see him thus caught in her snare
than she returned with her own husband, habited in the Khan's royal
habiliments, to the palace. She also gave strict charge to her guard,
saying,--
"That juggler who was dancing just now upon the hill, dressed in
a fantastic costume of magpie's feathers, has the design of giving
himself out for being the Khan. Should he make the attempt, set dogs
(3) on him and drive him forth out of the country. Of all things,
on peril of your lives, suffer him not to enter the palace."
Scarcely had she made an end of speaking and conducted her husband into
the palace, when the Khan appeared, still wearing the magpie costume,
because the Khanin's husband had gone off with her, wearing his royal
habiliments, and would have made his way to his own apartments; but
the guards seeing him, and recognizing the man in the magpie disguise
the Khanin had designated, ordered him out.
The Khan asserted his khanship, and paid no heed to the guards;
but the more he strove to prove himself the Khan, the more were the
guards convinced he was the man the Khanin had ordered them to eject,
and they continued barring the way against him and preventing his
ingress. Then he grew angry and began to strive against them till they,
wearied with his resistance, called out the dogs and set them on him.
The dogs, taking him for a monstrous wild bird, eagerly ran towards
him, so that he was forced to turn and flee that he might by any means
save his life. But the dogs were swifter than he and overtook him,
and, springing upon him, tore him in pieces and devoured him.
Thus the husband of the Khanin became installed in all his governments
and possessions.
Moreover, that night there were born to the Khan four sons, who
were every one exceeding great rulers in Gambudvîpa, even as the
White Serpent-king, reigning over the white mother-o'-pearl shells,
had foretold.
The eldest of these four was renowned as the spiritual ruler of all
India (4). In one night he translated all the sacred books into a
thousand different languages for the use of devas and men, and in
one other night he erected a hundred thousand sacred temples all over
his dominions.
The brother next to him was endowed with all kinds of power and
strength in his earliest youth, and with every capacity. This Prince
was renowned as ruler of the Mongols by the name of Barin Tochedaktschi
Erdektu (5), for so expert and mighty was he in the use of the bow
that if he shot his arrow at four men standing side by side together,
every one of them was certain to fall to the earth, transfixed through
the centre of the heart.
The next brother raised up to himself a mighty host of a hundred
thousand men by pulling out a single hair of his head, and he led
them forth to battle, and was known to the whole earth by the name
of Gesser-Khan (6).
The fourth brother fitted out four caravans of merchandise all in one
day, and sent them forth to the four quarters of heaven. By these
means he obtained possession of the All-desire-supplying talisman,
Tschin-tâmani, and was Ruler of the Treasures of the earth, with the
title of Barss-Irbiss (7), Shah of Persia.