Her efforts met with no success, but circumstances brought about that which she herself had been unable to. When the young prince was fifteen years old his father’s only sister, who had married the king of a distant country, wrote to her brother begging him to permit his son to pay her a visit, as she greatly desired to see the nephew of whom she had received the most excellent reports.
The Rajah at first refused to allow Varna to leave the country, as he was fearful that harm might come to him, but his sister entreated and his wife insisted, so he finally gave his consent, although reluctantly.
Varna was both good and handsome. When an infant he had been placed in the care of one of the court ladies, who afterward became his governess, and between them existed a great affection, which was shared equally by the lady’s daughter Zaïda. When he became old enough to need the guidance of a tutor and guardian, this lady’s husband took her place, and they both loved him as though he were their own son.
At length the young prince set forth on his journey, accompanied by his tutor and former governess and a numerous retinue. All went well until they left his father’s dominions, when the talisman lost its power to protect him. They were crossing a desert under a burning sun and at length reached an oasis, where the caravan rested. Suddenly Varna sprang from his carriage, and immediately disappeared. As time went on and he did not return, the tutor and his wife were filled with alarm. They sought for him in every possible place, but could not find him.
Sadly they mingled their tears, for they were sure that this was the work of the wicked queen and the witch of the mountain. Suddenly they heard a voice, which came from the branches of a tree beneath which they were sitting. Looking up, they saw a large bird, which said to them: “You seek your prince in vain. Return to your own country and tell the king that many moons shall come and go before his son shall be restored.” There was nothing else to do, so they sorrowfully went home, and when they told their sad news to the king he was so deeply grieved that he was stricken with a severe sickness from which he never recovered.
The wicked queen was now happy; her son was the Rajah, and she wielded all the authority. The power that was hers made her harsher and more cruel than ever, and the people soon began to hate her, especially as they believed that it was she who had caused the disappearance of Prince Varna. Fortunately, her son was loved by his subjects, for he was kind and noble, and only this kept them from rebellion.
One day, about three years after the supposed death of Prince Varna, the young Rajah was out hunting, a sport of which he was very fond. He and his courtiers stopped to rest at a pleasant spot, and refreshments were prepared for them. While at luncheon his attention was attracted to a bird of brilliant red plumage which was perched on the branch of a tree. Taking some crumbs, he threw them beneath the tree, and the bird flew down and ate them.
Cautioning his courtiers to make no noise, he gradually approached the gaily clad bird, which, to his surprise, did not fly away. In the open palm of his hand were more crumbs, and the bird actually hopped towards him and ate these too.
Such confidence and lack of fear quite moved the Rajah, who resolved to take his little feathered friend home with him. He tenderly stroked its pretty feathers, and the bird made no effort to fly away. Soon it nestled on his shoulder and stayed there until the party returned to the palace.
The young ruler became greatly attached to his new pet, and would allow no one but himself to look after it. He even took it with him when he went out walking—the bird on his shoulder.