But his friends said, "Be appeased, most worthy Effendi, we could not kill your valuable camel."
"O benefactors!" replied the Khoja, "since you desire the brute's life it must be spared. But it shall have no home with me. I am about to drive it into the desert, where it may stumble to its heart's content."
So the Khoja drove the camel away; but before he did so he tore the furniture and trappings furiously from its back, crying, "I won't leave you a rag, you ungrateful beast!"
And he pursued his journey on foot, carrying the camel's furniture as best as he might.
Tale 31.—An Open Question.
The Khoja wanted vegetables for cooking, so he took a sack and slipped into a neighbouring garden, which was abundantly supplied. He picked some herbs, and pulled up some turnips, and got a little of everything he could find to fill his bag. Both hands were full, when the gardener suddenly appeared and seized him.
"What are you doing here?" said the gardener.
The Khoja was confounded, and not being able to find a good excuse, he said, "A very strong wind blew during the night. Having driven me a long way, it blew me here."
"Oh," said the gardener; "but who plucked these herbs which I see in your hands?"
"The wind was so very strong," answered the Khoja, "that when it blew me into this place I clutched with both hands at the first things I could lay hold of, lest it should drive me further. And so they remain in my grasp."