When prince Camaralzaman was alone, instead of going to take part in the public joy of the city, the solitude he was in brought to his mind, with more violence, the loss of his dear princess: he walked through the garden sighing and groaning, till the noise which two birds made on a neighbouring tree, tempted him to lift up his head, and stop to see what was the matter.

Camaralzaman was astonished at seeing these two birds fighting with their beaks, and that in a very little while one of them, fell down dead at the root of a tree; the bird that was victorious took wing again, and flew away.

In an instant, two other large birds, that had seen the fight at a distance, came from the other side of the garden, and pitched on the ground, one at the feet, and the other at the head of the dead bird: they looked upon it some time, shaking their heads, as if they were grieved at the death of their departed friend; after which, digging a grave with their talons, they interred the defunct.

When they filled up the grave with the earth which they had turned up to make it, they flew away, and returned in a few minutes, bringing with them the bird that had committed the murder, the one holding one of its wings in its beak, and the other one of its legs; the criminal all the while crying out in a doleful manner, and struggling to escape. They carried it to the grave of the bird which it had lately sacrificed to its rage, and there they made a sacrifice of it to the manes of the dead bird; and, striking it often with their beaks, at last they killed the murderer. They then opened its belly, tore out its entrails, left its body on the place unburied, and flew away.

Camaralzaman remained in great astonishment all the time he stood beholding this sight: he drew near the tree where this scene had been acted; and, casting his eyes on the scattered entrails of the bird that was last killed, he observed something red hanging out of its body; he took it up, and found it was his beloved princess Badoura's talisman, which had cost him so much pains and sorrow, and so many sighs, since the bird snatched it out of his hand. Ah, cruel! said he to himself, still looking on the bird, thou hadst delight in mischief; so I have the less reason to complain of what thou didst to me.

It is impossible to express prince Camaralzaman's joy. Dear princess, continued he to himself, this happy minute, which restores a treasure that is so precious to thee, is, without doubt, a presage of our meeting again, and perhaps sooner than I think of! Thank Heaven, who sent me this good fortune, and gives me hopes of the greatest felicity that my heart can desire!

Saying this, he kissed the talisman, wrapped it up in a riband, and tied it carefully about his arm. Till now he had been almost a stranger to rest, his troubles always keeping him awake; but the next night he slept soundly: he rose somewhat later next morning than he used to do, put on his working clothes, and went to the gardener for orders what he should go about. The good man bid him root up an old tree that stood in a place to which he directed him, and was decaying.

Camaralzaman took an axe, and began his work: cutting off a branch at the root, he found that his axe struck against something which resisted the blow, and made a noise; he turned up the earth, and discovered a broad plate of brass, under which was a stair-case of ten steps; he went down, and at the bottom observed a cave of above six yards square, with fifty brass urns placed in order around it, each urn having a cover. He opened them all, one after another; and there was not one of them which was not full of gold dust. He came out of the cave, rejoicing that he had found such a vast treasure: he replaced the brass plate on the stair-case, and next rooted up the tree, previous to the gardener's coming to see what he had done.

The gardener had learned the day before that the ship which was bound for the isle of Ebene would sail in a few days, though the certain time was not fixed. His friend promised to inform him the precise day, if he called on him to-morrow or the day after, and, while Camaralzaman was rooting up the tree, he went to have his answer. He returned with a joyful countenance, by which the prince guessed he brought him good news. Son, said the old man, (so he always called him on account of the difference between their ages,) be joyful, prepare to embark in three days; the ship will then certainly sail: I have taken a passage for you, and settled the price with the captain.

In the condition I am at present, replied Camaralzaman, you could not bring me more agreeable news, and in return I have also tidings that will be as welcome to you. Come along with me, and you shall see what good fortune Heaven has in store for you.