by abc
huge hat, which served him for an umbrella.
Prince Bahman, who, remembering the directions of the old woman,
had been since sunrise on the look-out for some one, recognised the
old man at once to be a dervish. He dismounted from his horse,
and bowed low before the holy man, saying by way of greeting,
"My father, may your days be long in the land, and may all your wishes
be fulfilled!"
The dervish did his best to reply, but his moustache was so thick that
his words were hardly intelligible, and the prince, perceiving what
was the matter, took a pair of scissors from his saddle pockets,
and requested permission to cut off some of the moustache, as he had
a question of great importance to ask the dervish. The dervish made
a sign that he might do as he liked, and when a few inches of his hair
and beard had been pruned all round the prince assured the holy man
that he would hardly believe how much younger he looked. The dervish
smiled at his compliments, and thanked him for what he had done.
"Let me," he said, "show you my gratitude for making me more
comfortable by telling me what I can do for you."
"Gentle dervish," replied Prince Bahman, "I come from far, and I
seek the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water.
I know that they are to be found somewhere in these parts, but I am
ignorant of the exact spot. Tell me, I pray you, if you can, so that I
may not have travelled on a useless quest." While he was speaking,
the prince observed a change in the countenance of the dervish,
who waited for some time before he made reply.
"My lord," he said at last, "I do know the road for which you ask,
but your kindness and the friendship I have conceived for you make
me loth to point it out."
"But why not?" inquired the prince. "What danger can there be?"
"The very greatest danger," answered the dervish. "Other men,
as brave as you, have ridden down this road, and have put me
that question. I did my best to turn them also from their purpose,
but it was of no use. Not one of them would listen to my words,
and not one of them came back. Be warned in time, and seek to go
no further."
"I am grateful to you for your interest in me," said Prince Bahman,
"and for the advice you have given, though I cannot follow it.
But what dangers can there be in the adventure which courage and a good
sword cannot meet?"
"And suppose," answered the dervish, "that your enemies are invisible,
how then?"
"Nothing will make me give it up," replied the prince, "and for
the last time I ask you to tell me where I am to go."
When the dervish saw that the prince's mind was made up,
he drew a ball from a bag that lay near him, and held it out.
"If it must be so," he said, with a sigh, "take this, and when
you have mounted your horse throw the ball in front of you.
It will roll on till it reaches the foot of a mountain, and when it
stops you will stop also. You will then throw the bridle on your
horse's neck without any fear of his straying, and will dismount.
On each side you will see vast heaps of big black stones,
and will hear a multitude of insulting voices, but pay no heed
to them, and, above all, beware of ever turning your head.
If you do, you will instantly become a black stone like the rest.
For those stones are in reality men like yourself, who have been on
the same quest, and have failed, as I fear that you may fail also.
If you manage to avoid this pitfall, and to reach the top of
the mountain, you will find there the Talking Bird in a splendid cage,
and you can ask of him where you are to seek the Singing Tree and
the Golden Water. That is all I have to say. You know what you
have to do, and what to avoid, but if you are wise you will think
of it no more, but return whence you have come."
The prince smilingly shook his head, and thanking the dervish
once more, he sprang on his horse and threw the ball before him.
The ball rolled along the road so fast that Prince Bahman had much
difficulty in keeping up with it, and it never relaxed its speed
till the foot of the mountain was reached. Then it came to a
sudden halt, and the prince at once got down and flung the bridle
on his horse's neck. He paused for a moment and looked round him
at the masses of black stones with which the sides of the mountain
were covered, and then began resolutely to ascend. He had hardly
gone four steps when he heard the sound of voices around him,
although not another creature was in sight.
"Who is this imbecile?" cried some, "stop him at once." "Kill him,"
shrieked others, "Help! robbers! murderers! help! help!" "Oh, let
him alone," sneered another, and this was the most trying of all,
"he is such a beautiful young man; I am sure the bird and the cage
must have been kept for him."
At first the prince took no heed to all this clamour, but continued
to press forward on his way. Unfortunately this conduct, instead of
silencing the voices, only seemed to irritate them the more,
and they arose with redoubled fury, in front as well as behind.
After some time he grew bewildered, his knees began to tremble,
and finding himself in the act of falling, he forgot altogether
the advice of the dervish. He turned to fly down the mountain,
and in one moment became a black stone.
As may be imagined, Prince Perviz and his sister were all this
time in the greatest anxiety, and consulted the magic knife,
not once but many times a day. Hitherto the blade had remained
bright and spotless, but on the fatal hour on which Prince Bahman
and his horse were changed into black stones, large drops of blood
appeared on the surface. "Ah! my beloved brother," cried the princess
in horror, throwing the knife from her, "I shall never see you again,
and it is I who have killed you. Fool that I was to listen to the
voice of that temptress, who probably was not speaking the truth.
What are the Talking Bird and the Singing Tree to me in comparison
with you, passionately though I long for them!"
Prince Perviz's grief at his brother's loss was not less than that of
Princess Parizade, but he did not waste his time on useless lamentations.
"My sister," he said, "why should you think the old woman was deceiving
you about these treasures, and what would have been her object in
doing so! No, no, our brother must have met his death by some accident,
or want of precaution, and to-morrow I will start on the same quest."
Terrified at the thought that she might lose her only remaining
brother, the princess entreated him to give up his project,
but he remained firm. Before setting out, however, he gave her a
chaplet of a hundred pearls, and said, "When I am absent, tell this
over daily for me. But if you should find that the beads stick,
so that they will not slip one after the other, you will know that
my brother's fate has befallen me. Still, we must hope for better luck."
Then he departed, and on the twentieth day of his journey fell
in
with the dervish on the same spot as Prince Bahman had met him,
and began to question him as to the place where the Talking Bird,
the Singing Tree and the Golden Water were to be found. As in the case
of his brother, the dervish tried to make him give up his project,
and even told him that only a few weeks since a young man,
bearing a strong resemblance to himself, had passed that way,
but had never come back again.
"That, holy dervish," replied Prince Perviz, "was my elder brother,
who is now dead, though how he died I cannot say."
"He is changed into a black stone," answered the dervish, "like all
the rest who have gone on the same errand, and you will become one
likewise if you are not more careful in following my directions."
Then he charged the prince, as he valued his life, to take no heed
of the clamour of voices that would pursue him up the mountain,
and handing him a ball from the bag, which still seemed to be half full,
he sent him on his way.
When Prince Perviz reached the foot of the mountain he jumped from
his horse, and paused for a moment to recall the instructions the
dervish had given him. Then he strode boldly on, but had scarcely
gone five or six paces when he was startled by a man's voice
that seemed close to his ear, exclaiming: "Stop, rash fellow,
and let me punish your audacity." This outrage entirely put
the dervish's advice out of the prince's head. He drew his sword,
and turned to avenge himself, but almost before he had realised
that there was nobody there, he and his horse were two black stones.
Not a morning had passed since Prince Perviz had ridden away without
Princess Parizade telling her beads, and at night she even hung
them round her neck, so that if she woke she could assure herself
at once of her brother's safety. She was in the very act of moving
them through her fingers at the moment that the prince fell a victim
to his impatience, and her heart sank when the first pearl remained
fixed in its place. However she had long made up her mind what she
would do in such a case, and the following morning the princess,
disguised as a man, set out for the mountain.
As she had been accustomed to riding from her childhood, she managed
to travel as many miles daily as her brothers had done, and it was,
as before, on the twentieth day that she arrived at the place
where the dervish was sitting. "Good dervish," she said politely,
"will you allow me to rest by you for a few moments, and perhaps you
will be so kind as to tell me if you have ever heard of a Talking Bird,
a Singing Tree, and some Golden Water that are to be found somewhere
near this?"
"Madam," replied the dervish, "for in spite of your manly dress your
voice betrays you, I shall be proud to serve you in any way I can.
But may I ask the purpose of your question?"
"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I have heard such glowing
descriptions of these three things, that I cannot rest till I
possess them."
"Madam," said the dervish, "they are far more beautiful than
any description, but you seem ignorant of all the difficulties
that stand in your way, or you would hardly have undertaken
such an adventure. Give it up, I pray you, and return home,
and do not ask me to help you to a cruel death."
"Holy father," answered the princess, "I come from far, and I should
be in despair if I turned back without having attained my object.
You have spoken of difficulties; tell me, I entreat you, what they are,
so that I may know if I can overcome them, or see if they are beyond
my strength."
So the dervish repeated his tale, and dwelt more firmly than before
on the clamour of the voices, the horrors of the black stones,
which were once living men, and the difficulties of climbing
the mountain; and pointed out that the chief means of success
was never to look behind till you had the cage in your grasp.
"As far as I can see," said the princess, "the first thing is not
to mind the tumult of the voices that follow you till you reach
the cage, and then never to look behind. As to this, I think I
have enough self-control to look straight before me; but as it is
quite possible that I might be frightened by the voices, as even the
boldest men have been, I will stop up my ears with cotton, so that,
let them make as much noise as they like, I shall hear nothing."
"Madam," cried the dervish, "out of all the number who have asked me
the way to the mountain, you are the first who has ever suggested
such a means of escaping the danger! It is possible that you
may succeed, but all the same, the risk is great."
"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I feel in my heart that I
shall succeed, and it only remains for me to ask you the way I am
to go."
Then the dervish said that it was useless to say more, and he gave
her the ball, which she flung before her.
The first thing the princess did on arriving at the mountain was
to stop her ears with cotton, and then, making up her mind which was
the best way to go, she began her ascent. In spite of the cotton,
some echoes of the voices reached her ears, but not so as to trouble her.
Indeed, though they grew louder and more insulting the higher she climbed,
the princess only laughed, and said to herself that she certainly
would not let a few rough words stand between her and the goal.
At last she perceived in the distance the cage and the bird,
whose voice joined itself in tones of thunder to those of the rest:
"Return, return! never dare to come near me."
At the sight of the bird, the princess hastened her steps, and without
vexing herself at the noise which by this time had grown deafening,
she walked straight up to the cage, and seizing it, she said:
"Now, my bird, I have got you, and I shall take good care that you
do not escape." As she spoke she took the cotton from her ears,
for it was needed no longer.
"Brave lady," answered the bird, "do not blame me for having joined
my voice to those who did their best to preserve my freedom.
Although confined in a cage, I was content with my lot, but if I
must become a slave, I could not wish for a nobler mistress than
one who has shown so much constancy, and from this moment I swear
to serve you faithfully. Some day you will put me to the proof,
for I know who you are better than you do yourself. Meanwhile, tell me
what I can do, and I will obey you."
"Bird," replied the princess, who was filled with a joy that seemed
strange to herself when she thought that the bird had cost her the
lives of both her brothers. "bird, let me first thank you for your
good will, and then let me ask you where the Golden Water is to be found."
The bird described the place, which was not far distant, and the
princess filled a small silver flask that she had brought with her
for the purpose. She then returned to the cage, and said: "Bird,
there is still something else, where shall I find the Singing Tree?"
"Behind you, in that wood," replied the
bird, and the princess
wandered through the wood, till a sound of the sweetest voices told
her she had found what she sought. But the tree was tall and strong,
and it was hopeless to think of uprooting it.
"You need not do that," said the bird, when she had returned
to ask counsel. "Break off a twig, and plant it in your garden,
and it will take root, and grow into a magnificent tree."
When the Princess Parizade held in her hands the three wonders
promised her by the old woman, she said to the bird: "All that is
not enough. It was owing to you that my brothers became black stones.
I cannot tell them from the mass of others, but you must know,
and point them out to me, I beg you, for I wish to carry them away."
For some reason that the princess could not guess these words seemed
to displease the bird, and he did not answer. The princess waited
a moment, and then continued in severe tones, "Have you forgotten
that you yourself said that you are my slave to do my bidding,
and also that your life is in my power?"
"No, I have not forgotten," replied the bird, "but what you ask is
very difficult. However, I will do my best. If you look round,"
he went on, "you will see a pitcher standing near. Take it, and, as you
go down the mountain, scatter a little of the water it contains
over every black stone and you will soon find your two brothers."
Princess Parizade took the pitcher, and, carrying with her besides
the cage the twig and the flask, returned down the mountain side.
At every black stone she stopped and sprinkled it with water,
and as the water touched it the stone instantly became a man.
When she suddenly saw her brothers before her her delight was mixed
with astonishment.
"Why, what are you doing here?" she cried.