“Shall I be a little wind,” laughed Cumac, “and gush among this grass?”
“It is the wind’s way among the roses. It has horns of bright brass and quiet harps of silver. Its golden boats flash in every tossing bay.”
Cumac laughed again, but still he would not let her go. “The fox has many tricks, the cat but one,” he said, and caused her ankles to be fastened with two jewelled links tied with a hopple of gold. But in a day he struck them from her with his own hands, and hung the hopple upon her lustrous neck.
And still he would not let her go; so Yali and Tanil connived to send news to the brothers, and in a little time Bombassor came to her aid.
Bombassor was a dancer without blemish, in beauty or movement either. He came into the palace to Cumac who did not know him, and the King’s household came to the beaten gongs to witness the art of Bombassor. Yali brought Flaune a harp of ivory, and to its music Bombassor caracoled and spun before the delighted King. Then Flaune (who spoke as a stranger to him) asked Bombassor if he would dance with her, and he said they would take the dance of “The Flying Phœnix.” The King was enchanted; he vowed he would grant any wish of Bombassor’s, any wish; yes, he would cut the moon in half did he desire it. “I will dance for your pledge,” said Bombassor.
It seemed to the King then as if a little whirling wind made of flame, and a music that was perfume, gyred and rose before him: the tapped gongs, the tinkle of harp, the surprise of Flaune’s swaying and reeling, now coy, now passionate, the lure of her wooing arms, the rhythm of her flying feet, the chanting of the onlookers, and the flashing buoyance of Bombassor, so thrilled and distracted him that he shouted like an eager boy.
But when Bombassor desired Cumac to give him the maiden Flaune, the King was astonished. “No, no,” he said, “but give him an urn full of diamonds,” and Bombassor was given an urn full of diamonds. He let it fall at the King’s feet, and the gems clattered upon the pavement like a heap of peas. “Give him Yali, then,” Cumac shouted. Yali was a nymph of splendour, but Bombassor called aloud, “No, a pledge is a pledge!”
Then the King’s joy went from him and, like a star falling, left darkness and terror.
“Take,” he cried, “an axe to his head and pitch it to the crows.”
And so was Bombassor destroyed, while the King continued ignorantly to woo his sister. Silent and proud was she, silent and proud, but her beauty began to droop until Yali and Tanil, perceiving this, connived again to send to her brothers, and in a little time Mint came. To race on foot he was fleeter than any of Cumac’s champions; they strove with him, but he was like the unreturning wind, and although they cunningly moved the bounds of the course, and threw thorns and rocks under his feet, he defeated them all, and the King jeered at his own champions. Then Mint called for an antelope to be set in the midst of the plain and cried: “Who will catch this for the King?” All were amazed and Cumac said: “Whoever will do it I will give him whatever a King may give, though I crack the moon for it.”