They threw it in this way several times to each other, till at last Jussuf let it fall.
"Oh!" cried she, "well done! whoever lets it fall, to him the punishment is due." And when she had caught the pomegranate again, she winked at him, and exclaimed, "Now come back, I will give you a blow on the face." But Jussuf remained where he was, watching for the throw, that he might avoid it. "Come back," she said still; but he remained stationary.
Then she breathed low some words over the pomegranate, and threw it suddenly at Jussuf. He wished to avoid the blow, by bending down quickly; but before he could succeed, he felt it on his forehead. The pomegranate was so violently thrown that it burst in pieces. The numerous grains lay scattered on the ground; but hardly had they touched the earth than they changed into so many wasps, which flew into the air and swarmed round his head. In the anguish of their stings, he held his hands before his eyes and ran on; but the swarm of wasps followed him, buzzing around him.
"Throw now thy turban on the ground," called the maiden at last to him, who was standing in the distance, loudly laughing at his anguish.
He listened, and obeyed her call without thinking of it, and quickly all the wasps crept under the turban. He stood in astonishment, and looked at the turban. Then the maiden approached him with ceaseless laughter, and said,
"What has happened to thee, friend Jussuf? Why dost thou gaze upon thy turban with such anxious attention? It is a pity they are not bees, the honey might be collected there. Take it up and put it on thy head."
He stooped down and raised it with cautious slowness; but, to his astonishment, all the wasps had disappeared; only a green lizard ran to and fro, and was lost among the grass and the leaves near the pathway.
"Where did that go?" asked Jussuf, reflectingly. "That was a pomegranate and became wasps, and where are they now gone?"
"What!" rejoined the maiden; "where did it go? Who would ask such a thing? How are wasps and pomegranates generally produced in this world? Or can you tell me how it is that grass comes up and grows out of a grain of seed? or how is it that a fig-tree can spring up from each little seed of the fig? The case is just so; and if people would ask questions about everything, there would be no end to such inquiries. But man must not inquire too closely. Come," continued she, quickly changing to a quieter and more mischievous manner, "Dost thou see those figs hanging on the branch over the way? let us see if you can jump high enough to reach and pick them."
He saw the figs, and sprang, but did not nearly reach the height at which they hung. She encouraged him to jump again and again, and at every awkward spring she laughed at his fruitless exertions. She then took a short run with little steps, and, floating as easily in the air as if she were borne on wings, plucked the figs, and then was wafted down as softly on the other side.