So once more the Shah wrote:
“O King of Mazinderan! Verily, I say unto thee that if within three days thou changest not thy robe of arrogance for one of humility, then truly it shall be changed for thee into a shroud. Yea, and the ghost of the Great White Deev shall call the vultures to feast upon thy severed head, hung from the walls of thine own Mazinderan.”
Alas! when the King of the magicians learned that Kaikous was sending unto him yet another messenger, he bade the flower of his army go forth to meet him. Then Rustem, when he beheld them draw nigh, laid hold of a huge tree with great spreading branches that grew by the wayside, and twisting it mightily, tore it from the earth, roots and all, brandishing it in his hands like a javelin. Now all who witnessed this amazing feat of strength were filled with wonder, and Rustem, beholding their awe, laughing, flung the tree among them, saying:
“Greetings from the great Shah of Iran!”
Then forth from the great host of the King there stepped one of the giants of Mazinderan, and he begged to grasp the hand of the mighty one in congratulation. So Rustem extended his hand, and the giant pressed it mightily, hoping thus to wring off the valorous member. But so feeble was his grasp that the champion could but smile, for well he knew his purpose. When, however, it came his turn, he caught the giant’s hand in his with a grip so mighty that all the bones and sinews cracked, and in agony he fell fainting from his horse.
Now beholding the fate of the giant, quickly one of the nobles hastened unto the King to report what had befallen his champion. Then, mortified and angry, at once the monarch summoned into his presence his most valiant and renowned chieftain, Kalour by name, and directed him to punish, signally, the warrior who had thus presumed to triumph over his heroes. And he said:
“Go, O Mighty One, and show unto this insolent Persian thy prowess. Cover his face with shame, and return not unto me until thou hast retrieved the honor of the magicians.”
Then Kalour, who was the strongest Deev of his tribe, said proudly unto the King:
“Lord of the World, I go. And verily I will force the tears of pain from out the eyes of this upstart!”
So Kalour rode quickly forth, and when he was come unto Rustem, he stretched unto him his mighty hand, wringing that of the hero with the strength of a dragon. Now the hand turned blue in the cruel grasp, but Rustem neither flinched nor gave sign of pain. But when, presently, he wrung the hand of Kalour, behold, blood issued from the veins, and the nails fell off, dropping unto the ground like withered autumn leaves.