“To each of these I agreed, and immediately quitting the city, I wandered hither, where I am now exhausted with hunger and thirst, and pierced through the heart with the darts of the glances of a Houri. I am not able to return to my own country, and no friend has yet visited me by whose aid I might fulfil the conditions of the magician, and thus become entitled to the hand of his daughter; in this desert I have constantly strayed, weeping and lamenting, since the time I left the city, which is now a period of two years.”
On hearing this statement, Hatim said to the young man, in condoling language, “Be of good cheer, for God willing, I will perform these three conditions for you, and put you in possession of your mistress.” He then remembered the circumstance of the jackals that had procured him the head of the pariru from the desert of Mazanderán, and resolved to set out thither immediately. In short, Hatim took leave of the youth, and set out on his journey to Mazanderán. In the course of a few days he came to a certain city, around which, along the walls and ditches, the inhabitants had laid piles of dried wood, which they kept burning.
Hatim, surprised, asked them what was the cause of this conflagration. “If,” said one of them, “we do not keep this fire constantly burning all around our outward walls, a monstrous demon will enter our city and devour us.”—“Pray,” said Hatim, “what like is this evil being that so annoys you?”—“He is a large animal,” replied they, “frightful beyond description, and when he comes he devours three or four of our people at a time.” Hatim, on hearing this, began to consider how it would be practicable to free them from this calamity, and in the meantime he went to take some repose in the caravanseraï.
He then caused a pit to be dug outside the city in the open plain, which he fenced round with bushes of thorn and piles of wood, and furnishing himself with a bow and quiver full of arrows he took up his post in that ambush about sunset. When about a watch of the night had passed, the approach of the monster was indicated with a noise like that of a tempest. When this formidable beast came nearer, he saw that it had eight feet and seven heads, of which six were like those of lions, and the remaining head resembled that of an elephant. The elephant head was situated in the middle, and had three eyes.
When Hatim was leaving the city, the inhabitants had given him a description of the monster, which he now found to be quite correct. They further told him that this terrific beast was vulnerable only on the middle eye of the elephant head, and if it were possible to hit that eye with an arrow, it would be the means of removing this calamity, for then the monster would run off, and never approach a human abode. Meanwhile the inhabitants hearing him advance, kindled their fires all around the city, which became completely covered with a thick cloud of smoke. The monster moved round the walls, and continued to roar with all his mouths so loud that the city shook to its foundation. At length he approached the spot where Hatim lay concealed, and when the latter observed him, he placed his trust in Providence, and seizing his bow he took a deliberate aim at the central eye on the elephant head, and pierced it with an arrow.
The monster reeled and fell with a crash upon the earth, and raised such a roar that the city and the desert shook far and wide. He shortly after started up, and fled so swiftly towards the wilderness that he never looked behind him. Hatim spent the whole night without the walls, and when the dawn of morning appeared he reëntered the gates. The people crowded round him, and asked whether he had seen the demon. He answered, “I have expelled him from your territories.”—“How,” said they, “can we be certain of that?”—“You may soon satisfy yourselves on that score,” replied Hatim; “this night you can watch on the walls and battlements of the city, and if you hear his sound, then shall you consider me a teller of falsehood; if, on the other hand, the sound shall not be heard, you will be convinced of my veracity.” To this they agreed and acted accordingly, and when the night was over and all well, they returned to Hatim and prostrated themselves at his feet, and conveyed him in triumph to the residence of their governor, who received him with the utmost courtesy and respect, seating him by his side, and treating him with boundless hospitality. The people of the city, and particularly the governor, speedily brought all their wealth in cash and valuable effects, and offered it to Hatim, who said to them, “I am a poor traveller, and I am not the least desirous of such wealth as you offer me.” They requested him to accept of their bounty, and do with it what he thought proper.
Hatim accepted the gold and property which they thus pressed upon him, and bestowed the whole of it on the fakirs, and poor people of the city. He then took leave of the inhabitants, and set out on his journey to Mazanderán. As he was journeying onwards, he saw a black snake in deadly contest with a weasel. He stood for some time looking on, while neither of the animals seemed to have the advantage. At length he shouted, “Vile reptiles! what is the cause of this deadly contest between you?” The snake replied, “My opponent here has slain my father.” The weasel added, “Snakes are the natural food of my species, and therefore I killed his father, and will kill him also, that I may eat him.” Hatim addressed the weasel, saying, “If flesh be thy desire, say the word, and I shall give it thee from off my own body”; and to the snake he said, “If revenge be thy object, slay me instead of the weasel.” Both of them, on hearing this, ceased from their struggle. The weasel said to Hatim, “As you have offered me your flesh, give it me.”—“What part of me,” asked Hatim, “do you desire?”—“Your cheek,” replied the weasel.
Hatim seized a knife, and was about to cut off the flesh from his cheek, when the weasel cried, “Desist, young man, I merely did this to try your firmness, and now I am convinced of your generosity.” Immediately both of them assumed the appearance of men. When Hatim saw this, he asked, “My friends, what wonderful occurrence is this?” The weasel replied, “We are both of us of the race of the genii, and I confess I have slain his father; but the reason is, that I fell desperately in love with the old man’s daughter, and he refused his assent to our marriage. The brother, as you see, bears deadly hatred towards me, and I must kill him in self-defence.” Hatim, addressing the genii, recommended to them peace and amity on both sides, and proffered that each should marry the other’s sister. The genius that had been in the form of a weasel replied, “My father, who is king of the genii, will never agree to such a proposal.”—“Let me be shown to his presence,” requested Hatim, “and I may induce him to be satisfied.”—“Follow me, then,” said the genius, “and you shall soon be in my father’s court.” After they had thus walked together for some distance, they arrived at a spacious city, where the prince told Hatim, “This is my father’s capital. I must part with you here, in order to proceed to my own residence; but my attendants will take you by the hand, and conduct you to my father’s presence.”
Troops of genii approached Hatim accordingly, and ushered him before their sovereign, whose name was Mahyūr. When his Majesty saw Hatim, he said to him, “Stranger of the race of Adam, what important affair has brought you into my capital?”—“I have come,” said he, “for promoting peace and friendship.”—“How,” rejoined the king, “can any of the human race act so friendly a part towards the genii, and what is the nature of this service with which you are to favor us?”—“You have a son,” continued Hatim; “may I ask whether you wish his life to be spared, or are resolved on his death?”—“Truly,” replied Mahyur, “I have a son, but what then?”—“If you love him,” said Hatim in return, “follow my advice, and his life may be saved; otherwise death will soon overtake him.”—“May the divine favor be upon you,” rejoined the king of the genii; “tell me what is the matter, that my son is in danger of his life.”—“He has slain the father of a certain youth named Bahram,” said Hatim, “and the latter bears hatred towards him on that account, and will certainly slay him: to-day I saw them in deadly contest, and your son’s life would have been short indeed had I not parted them. Another day they will again meet, and the result will be fatal; but if you obey my directions, I may be the means of establishing peace between them. The case is this: your son is enamoured of Bahram’s sister, and has slain her father because he refused his consent to their union; on the other hand, Bahram is in love with your daughter. It is requisite then, in order to do away all grounds of hatred, that you bestow your daughter on Bahram, and induce his sister to marry your son.”
Mahyur expressed satisfaction with Hatim’s proposal; and accordingly summoned his son and Bahram into his presence, where Hatim succeeded in making them friends. When each of the lovers was in possession of his mistress, Hatim went to take leave of Mahyur, who said to him at parting, “Brave sir! accept of something from us as a reward for your kindness.”—“I have never yet taken a reward,” replied Hatim, “for discharging the duties of humanity.”—“Generous Hatim!” rejoined the king of the genii, “accept from me this staff as a token of esteem; it may be of use to you. When you hold it erect in your hand, it becomes possessed of some rare qualities; for instance, if a serpent or scorpion sting you, the venom shall have no effect, and the fire shall have no power over you. If any one assail you with magic, turn round the staff, and the enchantment will be of no avail. In particular, the poison of the red dragon can have no power over you. Accept at the same time this talisman, and whenever you behold a serpent, whether red, or black, or green, or white, place the talisman in your mouth, and you will be safe. Again, when you come to a river, throw the staff into the water, and it will instantly become a boat.”