SECUNDUR ZULF-KUR-NAIN.
He had gone a long distance from the camp when one day he met some villagers, and found out from them that there were two wonderful “Trees” near their village which had the magic power to answer questions put to them, and that their replies were always quite correct. They said, “But we must get old men to go with you, for they do not understand young men, nor do young men understand them,”
This they did, and when Secundur was approaching the “Trees” there was a voice heard, “Here comes Secundur! the great king Secundur!” Whereupon the villagers fell down at his feet to ask his pardon, for they had thought him all along as a common traveller.
Secundur at once allayed their fears and said, “Never mind! put to the ‘Trees’ the questions I ask you.” And he said, “Ask how long I have to live.” And the reply came, “Seven years!” “Ask again, How long it will take me to return to my country.” And the reply came again, “Seven years!” “Oh sorrow upon sorrow!” said Secundur: “It was not my “Kismut” (fate) to drink the Water of Life, and now it is not my “Kismut” to see again my mother, for I am sure to be delayed on my way back to my native land.”
Upon return to his camp he ordered that it should be moved the next day, and march in the direction of his own country. He had not made many marches when he came to a town, and the people came out to meet him, asking him to deliver them out of the hands of “Freebooters” who were continually raiding upon them.
Secundur remained with them for some time, and taught them how to build a wall round the town, but all this delayed him on his way back, as he thought it would.
Being still very sorrowful, he sent one day for two or three of his Ministers and said to them, “My home is yet a long way off, and who can tell whether I shall live to return to it? so I am going to give you a command, and you are to write down what I say; and should I die suddenly the letter which you shall write at my dictation, and which I will sign, and which you will keep, shall be at my death sent to my mother and delivered into her hands. Now write as follows:
“From your son Secundur:
“I am near dying, and have had this letter written to you and have signed it myself. It is the custom of this country that when a person dies in a family, cooked bread is always given away in charity to the poor, for it is supposed to do good to the deceased. Now, I am going to ask you when you hear of my death, only to give cooked bread in charity to those who have never lost a relation. Again, should you ever come to the place of my burial and call out, ‘Secundur, Zulf-kur-Nain,’ I will reply to you from my grave.”
Now the first request was so designed because Alexander knew that his mother could not find a family that had not to mourn some loss or other; and she would thus come to see that she was not alone in her grief, and that all human beings were afflicted with the death of relatives.