The next day she went accordingly, disguised, and sent in a letter of the following purport to the Khan:—
“Although I, the Pig’s head soothsayer, brought the Khan round from his malady, yet some remains of it still hang about him. It was in order to remove these that I asked for the pieces of wood for the oxen; what guerdon has been earned by this further service it is for the Khan to decide.”
Such a letter she sent in to the Khan.
“The man has spoken the truth,” said the Khan, on reading the letter. “For his reward, let him and his wife, his parents and friends, all come over hither and dwell with me.”
When they arrived, the Khan said, “When one has to show his gratitude, and dismisses him to whom he is indebted with presents, that does not make an end of the matter. That I was not put to death by the Manggus is thy doing; that the kingdom was not given over to destruction was thy doing; that the ministers were not eaten up by the Manggus was thy doing: it is meet, therefore, that we share between us the inheritance, even between us two, and reign in perfect equality.” With such words he gave him half his authority over the kingdom, and to all his family he gave rich fortunes and appointments of state. And thus his wife became Khanin; so that while he could indulge himself in the same idle life as before, she also enjoyed rest from her household and pastoral cares[10].
“Though the woman despised her husband’s understanding,” exclaimed the Khan, “yet was it always his doings which brought them wealth after all!”
And as he let these words escape him, the Siddhî-kür replied, “Forgetting his health, the Well-and-wise-walking Khan hath opened his lips. “And with the cry, “To escape out of this world is good!” he sped him through the air, swift out of sight.
