“From here?” said one of them, and through a crack in the lid, I saw the light of a torch, and the whispering of the river came to my ears.
“Yes!” replied another.
And I commended my soul to Allah as the box was swung to and fro and hurled through the air. With a sound in my ears as of the shrieking of ten thousand efreets, I was plunged into the water!
Far under the surface I went and knew all the agonies of dissolution; but the box was strongly and cunningly made and rose again; then it began to fill and sink once more, and again I tasted of the final pangs. Throughout all this time, a strong current was bearing the box along, and presently, as, for the fiftieth occasion, I was seeking to die and to end my misery, I heard voices.
The most miserable life is sweet to him who feels it slipping from his grasp, and I summoned sufficient strength to raise a feeble cry.
“O Allah!” I cried, “if it be thy will, grant that these persons whose voices I hear take pity upon my unfortunate condition, and draw me forth.”
Even as I spoke, something stayed the onward progress of the box. It was a fisherman’s net! And the fishermen began to draw me into the boat, I praising Allah the while.
But when they had the box upon the edge of the boat, and heard my voice proceeding from within, and saw the Walî’s seal upon the lid—“By the beard of the Prophet!” cried one, “this is some evil ginn or magician whom the Walî hath imprisoned in this chest! Allah avert the omen! Cast him back, comrades!”
Alas! I could find no words wherewith to entreat them to take pity; never had paucity of speech served me so ill! A great groan issued from my bosom as I was consigned again to the Nile!
Allah is great, and it was not written that I should perish in that manner. For another current now seized upon the box, and just as I was on the point of dissolution, cast it upon a projecting bank, where it was perceived by a band of four robbers, who derived a livelihood from plundering such vessels as lay unprotected in the river.