Peahen, when I heard what the donkey had to say, I shuddered in fear of the son of Adam and I said to the lion cub: ‘Master, the donkey is to be excused, and what he said has made me even more afraid.’ The lion cub then asked the donkey where he was going, and the donkey said: ‘Before sunrise I saw the son of Adam in the distance. I took flight and I need to be off, for I have not stopped running, so great is my fear of him. I am hoping to find some place of refuge from his treachery.’
While the donkey was talking to the lion cub and wanting to take his leave of us and go, into sight came a dust cloud. The donkey brayed noisily and, looking towards the cloud, he passed wind loudly. Soon afterwards, the dust cleared away to show a black horse with a fine blaze the size of a dirham and handsome white fetlocks, good legs and a strong whinny. It went on running until it stopped in front of the lion cub, who admired it and asked: ‘What kind of a creature are you, you splendid animal, and why are you straying through these broad lands?’ ‘Lord of the beasts,’ answered the horse, ‘I am one of the race of horses, and the reason that I am straying here is that I am escaping from the son of Adam.’ The lion cub was astonished to hear this and exclaimed: ‘Don’t say that, for it brings disgrace on you – a tall, burly creature like you. How can you be afraid of the son of Adam? You are both large and swift, while in spite of my own small size, I had intended to meet the son of Adam, attack him and eat his flesh, so calming the fears of this poor duck so that she can settle back in her own land. But here you are, coming at this moment, breaking my resolution by your words, and turning me back from my purpose. For, big as you are, the son of Adam must have got the better of you, and he cannot have been afraid of your size, in spite of the fact that you could kill him with a kick. He could have had no power over you and you could pour him out his death draught.’
The horse laughed when he heard what the lion cub had to say. ‘I am very, very far from being able to overcome him, prince,’ he said. ‘Don’t be deceived by my size or my bulk in comparison with his. Through his great cunning and guile, he makes something called shackles for me from fibres twisted with felt, with which he secures my legs, and he fastens my head to a high peg, so that I have to stay standing as though crucified, unable to sit or sleep. When he wants to ride me, he makes for me iron things called stirrups that he puts on his feet. He puts something called a saddle on my back and fastens it with girths under my belly. In my mouth he puts an iron contraption called a bridle to which he fixes leather things called reins. When he rides me sitting on the saddle, he holds the reins in his hand and uses them to direct me, while he pricks my flanks with his stirrups until he makes them bleed. Don’t ask me about what I suffer at his hands, prince. When I grow old and my back becomes scrawny and I can no longer run fast, he will sell me to the miller, who will use me in the mill and I will go round and round, night and day, until I become decrepit, when he will sell me to the butcher, who will kill and skin me. He will pluck my tail and sell it to the sieve maker, and he’ll melt down my fat.’
When the lion cub heard what the horse had to say, he grew more and more angry and distressed. ‘When did you leave the son of Adam?’ he asked. ‘At midday,’ the horse replied, ‘and he is following in my tracks.’ While the two were talking, a sudden dust cloud rose up and when it cleared away, underneath it appeared an angry camel, gurgling, and trampling the ground with its legs. It went on like this until it came up to us. When the lion cub saw its size and its bulk, he thought that it must be the son of Adam and was about to spring at it, when I said to him: ‘Prince, this is not the son of Adam; it is a camel and it looks as though it is fleeing from him.’
While I was talking to the lion cub, sister, the camel came up to it and they exchanged greetings. The lion cub then asked the camel why he had come, to which he replied that he was in flight from the son of Adam. ‘How can a large creature like you, with your great size, be afraid of the son of Adam, whom you could kill with a single kick?’ asked the lion cub. ‘Prince,’ answered the camel, ‘know that the son of Adam is invincibly cunning and it is only death that can get the better of him. He puts a thread in my nostrils which he calls a nose ring and on my head he puts a halter. Then he hands me over to the youngest of his children, and for all my huge size this little child pulls me along by my nose ring. They make me carry the heaviest of loads and take me on long journeys, working me hard both night and day. Then when I am old and broken, the son of Adam will not keep me with him but will sell me to the butcher, who will slaughter me and then sell my hide to the tanners and my flesh to the cooks. Don’t ask about the miseries that I suffer at the hands of the son of Adam.’ ‘When did you leave him?’ asked the lion cub. ‘At sunset,’ replied the camel. ‘I think that after I left he will be coming, and when he doesn’t find me, he will pursue me. So let me go off into the trackless wilds.’
‘Wait awhile, camel,’ said the lion cub, ‘so that you can see how I shall hunt him down, and then I shall give you his flesh to eat, while I myself shall crush his bones and drink his blood.’ ‘Prince,’ said the camel, ‘I’m afraid for you if you meet the son of Adam, for he is a master of deception and tricks.’ Then he recited these lines:
When an oppressor settles in a land,
All that its people can do is to leave.
While the camel and the lion cub were talking, another dust cloud rose, clearing away after a while to show a small, thin-skinned old man, with a basket on his shoulder containing carpenter’s tools. On his head he was carrying the branch of a tree, together with eight planks, and he was walking at a fast pace, leading some small children by the hand. He did not stop until he was close to the lion cub, and when I saw him, sister, I was so afraid that I fell down. As for the lion cub, he got up and walked off to meet the man. When he came up to him, the carpenter smiled at him and spoke to him eloquently: ‘Great and powerful king, may God give you happiness and success and add to your courage and your power. Protect me from the misfortune that has befallen me and the evil that has overtaken me, as I can find no helper except you.’ He stood before the lion cub, weeping, groaning and complaining. When the lion cub heard his laments and complaints, he said to him: ‘I shall give you protection from whatever you fear. Who is it who has wronged you and who are you? Never in my life have I seen an animal like you, nor one better formed nor more eloquent. What is your business?’ The man replied: ‘Lord of the beasts, I am a carpenter and the one who has wronged me is the son of Adam. When morning comes at the end of this night, he will be here with you.’
When the lion cub heard what the carpenter had to say, the light turned to darkness in his eyes. He snorted and grunted; sparks flashed from his eyes and he roared out: ‘By God, I shall stay awake through the night until dawn and I shall not go back to my father until I have reached my goal.’ He turned to the carpenter and said: ‘I see that you can only take short steps. As I am a chivalrous creature, I don’t want to discourage you, but I think that you cannot keep pace with wild beasts. So tell me where you are going.’ The carpenter said: ‘Know that I am on my way to your father’s vizier, the lynx. When the lynx heard that the son of Adam had set foot in this land, he became very afraid for himself and sent one of the wild beasts as a messenger to me, asking me to make him a house in which he could live in safety, protected from his enemies, where none of the sons of Adam could reach him. When the messenger arrived, I took these planks and set out to find his master.’
When the lion cub heard what the carpenter had to say, he became envious of the lynx and said: ‘By my life, you must use these planks to make me a house before you make one for the lynx, and when you have finished the job for me, you can go on to him and make what you want for him.’ After hearing this, the carpenter said: ‘Lord of the beasts, I cannot make you anything until I have made what the lynx wants, and after that I shall come to serve you and make you a house to protect you from your enemies.’ ‘By God,’ said the lion cub, ‘I shall not let you leave this place until you make the planks i
nto a house for me.’ He then leapt playfully at the carpenter, struck him with his paw and knocked the basket from his shoulder, laughing as the carpenter fell down in a faint. ‘You are a weak creature, carpenter,’ he said. ‘You have no strength and you can be excused for being afraid of the son of Adam.’
When the carpenter fell over, he became very angry, but he concealed his anger because of his fear of the lion cub. He sat up, smiled at the lion cub and agreed to make him a house. He took the planks that he had with him and nailed them as a box made to the measure of the lion cub, with its door left open like a chest. He gave it a large opening on top with a large cover, in which he bored a number of holes, with sharp-pointed nails protruding from them. He then told the lion cub to go in through the opening so that he could check the measurements. The lion cub was pleased at this, but when he came to the opening, he found it narrow. ‘Go in and crouch down on all four paws,’ said the carpenter. The lion cub did this but found that when he was inside, his tail was still sticking out. He wanted to back out, but the carpenter said: ‘Wait; be patient and I’ll see whether there is room for your tail to go in with you.’ The lion cub did as he was told and the carpenter twisted his tail, stuffed it in the box and then quickly put the plank back over the opening, nailing it down. The lion cub cried out: ‘Carpenter, let me out of this narrow house that you have made for me.’ ‘Certainly not,’ replied the carpenter. ‘It does no good to regret what has happened, and you are never going to get out of this.’ He then laughed and added: ‘You have fallen into a trap and you will never escape from its confinement, you foulest of beasts.’ ‘Brother,’ said the lion cub, ‘how do you come to address me like this?’ ‘Know, dog of the desert,’ said the carpenter, ‘that you have fallen into the very danger you feared. Fate has overthrown you, and caution can do you no good now.’ When the lion cub heard that, sister, he realized that this must be the son of Adam against whom he had been warned by his father when he was awake and by the voice in his dream. I too was sure of this beyond any shadow of doubt, and being in great fear for my life, I went a little way off and stayed watching what he was going to do to the lion cub. Sister, I saw him dig a hole there near the lion cub’s box, which he then threw into the hole and, piling firewood on top of it, he burned it. I was terrified and for two days now I have been fleeing from the son of Adam.
When the peahen heard what the duck had to say…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the hundred and forty-seventh night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that when the peahen heard what the duck had to say she was filled with astonishment and said: ‘Sister, you are safe from the son of Adam, for you are on an island in the sea and there is no way for him to get to it. You had better stay with us until God smooths the way for you and for us.’ ‘I am afraid that some disaster will overtake me,’ said the duck, ‘and no one can escape fate by fleeing.’ ‘Sit with us,’ repeated the peahen, ‘and you will be like one of us.’ She continued to insist until the duck sat down and said: ‘Sister, you know how small are my powers of endurance, and had I not seen you here, I would not have done this.’ The peahen said: ‘We have to fulfil whatever destiny is written on our foreheads. If our doom is near at hand, who can save us? No one dies until he has had the full measure of what has been allotted to him of both sustenance and length of life.’
While the two of them were talking to each other, they suddenly caught sight of a cloud of dust. With a cry, the duck went down to the sea, calling out: ‘Take care, take care – even though there is no way of escaping fate.’ Then, after a time, the dust cleared away and beneath it could be seen a gazelle. This calmed the duck as well as the peahen, who told the duck: ‘Sister, the thing that you saw and against which you were on your guard is a gazelle, and here it is, coming towards us. It will do us no harm; it eats the grasses that grow on the earth, and, just as you are of the race of birds, so, for its part, it is of the race of beasts. Be calm and don’t worry, for worry makes the body thin.’
Before the peahen had finished speaking, the gazelle had come up to them and was sheltering in the shade of a tree. When it saw the peahen and the duck, it greeted them and told them: ‘I only came to this island today and I have never seen a more fertile spot, or a better place in which to live.’ It then asked them to take it as a true friend, and when the two companions saw how well disposed it was to them, they approached it, being eager for its companionship, and all three took vows of friendship. They started to pass the night in the same spot and ate and drank together, and they continued undisturbed in this way until a ship passed by that had strayed from its course at sea.
It anchored close by and those on board landed, dispersing throughout the island. When they saw the gazelle, the peahen and the duck together, they made for them, but on seeing them, the peahen went up into its tree and then flew off into the air, while the gazelle made for the open country. The duck, however, was too confused to move and was caught. She cried out: ‘Caution has not helped me against my destined fate,’ and the sailors took her off to their ship. When the peahen saw what had happened to the duck, she left the island. ‘I see that disasters are on the lookout for every one of us,’ she said, adding: ‘Had it not been for this ship, I would not have been parted from this duck, one of the best of my friends.’ She flew off and joined the gazelle who, having greeted her and congratulated her on her escape, asked her about the duck. ‘The enemy took her,’ said the peahen, ‘and now that she is gone, I don’t want to stay on the island.’ Weeping for the duck’s loss, she recited:
The day of separation cut my heart in pieces;
May God cut in pieces the heart of that same day.
She then added:
I wish that union might return one day,
So I could tell the beloved what separation did.
The gazelle was exceedingly distressed, but it persuaded the peahen to change her mind about leaving. She stayed with the gazelle, eating and drinking in safety, although both were still grieved by the loss of the duck. The gazelle then said to the peahen: ‘You know, sister, that the sailors who came to us from the ship were the cause of our separation and of the death of the duck, so beware of this and guard against them and against the treacherous wiles of the sons of Adam.’ ‘I know for a fact,’ replied the peahen, ‘that what killed the duck was that she gave up saying: “Glory be to God.” I had told her that I was afraid for her because of this, as all God’s creation must glorify Him and whoever neglects this is punished by destruction.’ When the gazelle heard this, it said to the peahen: ‘May God beautify you,’ and it set about praising God continuously. The formula of praise used by the gazelle was said to be: ‘Glory be to the Judge, the Omnipotent, the Ruler.’
It is recorded that there was a hermit who worshipped God on a mountain which was the resort of a pair of pigeons. He used to divide his food in half…
Morning now dawned and Shahrazad broke off from what she had been allowed to say. Then, when it was the hundred and forty-eighth night, SHE CONTINUED:
I have heard, O fortunate king, that the hermit used to divide his food in half, with half for himself and half for the pigeons. He prayed that the pair might have many young and the prayer was answered. The hermit’s mountain was the only place to which the pigeons went, and the reason that they associated with him was the frequency with which they glorified God. It is said that the formula of praise used by pigeons was: ‘Glory be to the Author of all creation, the Distributor of sustenance, the Builder of the heavens and the Unfolder of the lands.’ The pigeons lived a life of plenty with their young until the hermit died and they were dispersed and scattered among towns, villages and mountains.
It is told that on a certain mountain there was a shepherd – a pious, intelligent and chaste man. He owned flocks that he herded, benefiting from their milk and their wool. His mountain was covered in trees and pastures and there were many beasts of prey,
but no wild beast had any power over him or over his flocks. He lived a peaceful life there, unaffected by worldly matters because of his good fortune and his concern with prayer and worship. Then, as God had decreed, he became very ill and went into a mountain cave from which his flock used to go out by day to their pasture, returning to it for shelter at night. Almighty God, wishing to test him and to try out his obedience and his powers of endurance, sent down an angel, who sat down in front of him in the form of a beautiful woman.
When the shepherd saw a woman sitting with him, in his revulsion goose flesh spread all over his body. ‘Woman,’ he said, ‘what has called you here? I have no need of you and there is nothing between us that should prompt you to come to me.’ ‘Man,’ she replied, ‘don’t you see my beauty and loveliness and smell the sweetness of my scent? Don’t you know what women need from men and men from women? What is there to keep you from me? I have chosen to be near you; I want union with you; I have come to you willingly and will not refuse myself to you. There is no one with us whom we need fear and I want to stay with you as long as you remain on this mountain. I will be your friend and I offer myself to you, as you need the services of a woman. If you sleep with me, your illness will leave you; your health will be restored and you will regret what you missed in your past life by way of intimacy with women. Accept the advice that I give you and come close to me.’
The Arabian Nights: Tales of 1,001 Nights: Volume 1 Page 82