“Woe! Woe unto Turan! For behold! the wolf hath stolen into the fold and, in spite of the shepherds and the dogs, hath taken the best of the flock. But verily, God helping me, I will be fully avenged for the death of Zendeh!”
Now having thus spoken, Sohrab came back unto his place at the table and continued the feast. For, though his own heart was heavy with sorrow, he wished not the spirits of his warriors to be dampened by pity, or fear of this terrible, silent, unknown foe. Raising his glass unto his lips, therefore, he cried lustily:
“Drink, my brave comrades, drink! Death to the slayer of Zendeh, and destruction, utter and sure, unto the Persian host.”
So the warriors and chiefs all drank, standing upon their feet; and as the hours passed by, Sohrab continued to fan into a yet more glowing flame the lust of battle which slumbered in each warrior’s soul, so that finally one and all desired naught but death unto the Persians, and a glorious victory for Sohrab, their gallant young leader, whom they toasted with such mighty shouts of pride and joy that it was heard even within the lines of Iran.
As for Rustem, having accomplished his purpose, after silencing Zendeh, he returned quickly and silently unto the Persian camp, knowing not that his victim was the loved brother of Tamineh, who was to have stood between Sohrab and his fate.
But behold, as Rustem would have entered the Persian lines he encountered Gew, who was acting that night as sentry. Now as this doughty warrior suddenly perceived—looming up mountain-high out of the darkness—a warrior clad in the garb of a Tartar, his heart quaked with fear, for he thought that surely he had to do with Sohrab, the terrible Tartar Champion. Nevertheless, he quickly drew his sword ready for combat, challenging the invader to give his name and errand.
Now this demand was greeted by a burst of mighty laughter, for Rustem, surmising from the quaver in Gew’s voice what his thought had been, could not but enjoy the situation. Still laughing, therefore, he said unto Gew:
“Brave comrade! tremble not so. For lo! thou beholdest before thee a most harmless creature—Rustem the Spy—who returneth from the banquet of Sohrab and his chiefs. Now Sohrab presenteth his compliments unto Gew, the brave warrior of the Persians, saying that he will be unable to meet him until to-morrow, when he will hurl forth unto him his challenge to combat.”
So spake the Mighty Rustem unto Gew, twitting him yet again upon his lion’s roar and his great disappointment at being deprived of his much-longed-for combat with Sohrab. Then when they had laughed together, Rustem described unto Gew his adventure, ceasing not to sing the praise of Sohrab, who, he said, had not his equal in the world.
Whereupon, having thus spoken, the Great Champion said good-night unto his comrade, bidding him roar gently in case of danger. And so with merry jest ended the adventure of Rustem the Spy.