Is the lion’s haunt and the tiger’s lair;
And for them I shall be a morsel of food,
They will eat my flesh and drink my blood;
But my bones will be left to show the place
Where this form was devoured by the feline race;
Yes, something will then remain of me,
Whilst nothing escapes from the roaring sea!”
Thus spake Rustem in his guile, and well for him was it that his mind was so fertile in invention. For behold! the wicked Akwan Dew, having learned the particular desire of the Hero, quickly raised him up with his hands and flung him from his lofty height headlong into the deep and roaring ocean, at a spot where hungry crocodiles would devour him.
And alas! scarcely had the Champion touched the water, when one of these horrible creatures speedily darted upon him with the eager intention of devouring him alive. But in the twinkling of an eye Rustem drew his sword and severed the monster’s head. Then quickly another came, and was put to death in the same manner, and the water was crimsoned with blood. And while the Hero fought the crocodiles with his right hand, with his left he swam toward the shore, and though long was the struggle and sore, yet finally, when night was fallen, he at last succeeded in putting his foot upon the dry land. Then, when he had given thanks unto Ormuzd, and rested him, he returned unto the spot by the fountain.
But here a most unpleasant surprise awaited him, for Rakush, his steed, was not there. Then fear fell upon Rustem, and eagerly he wandered about seeking his matchless charger; but in vain, until at last, coming unto a green meadow, he spied him among the horses of Afrasiab. For alas! while the Champion was fighting the crocodiles and the mighty surges of the ocean, the keepers had succeeded in ensnaring Rakush.