Hatim having taken the talisman and the staff, bade adieu to the king of the genii, and proceeded on his journey to Mazanderán. Advancing day and night, he arrived at the banks of a large river. While standing upon the shore he beheld the waves rising to the clouds, and by their buffeting lashing the stars of heaven. He looked in all directions for a place where he might cross; and when he was in this consideration, he recollected the staff presented to him by Mahyur the king of the genii. He immediately seized it in his right hand, and threw it amidst the billows, whereupon the staff was changed into a boat, in which he embarked and began to make his way across. After he had sailed about half way, a huge nihang espied him, and ran off with himself and his boat. Hatim resigned his soul to the will of fate, and was waiting the result with patience, till at length after they had traversed the deep for the space of seven farasangs, his feet rested on firm ground. There he opened his eyes, and was surprised on hearing the nihang address him in eloquent language, thus: “Oh, Hatim! I have brought thee into this place that thou mightest render me justice.” Hatim said, “What justice do you require?” To this the nihang replied, “The crab has unlawfully deprived me of my place of residence: my wish is that you will put me in possession of what is my right.” Hatim rejoined, “Is it possible that the crab is more powerful than you?” To this the nihang replied, “Sluggish as he may appear, he is able to crush me into pieces between his claws; at present he is abroad somewhere in quest of food, and I have in the meantime brought you hither.”

Hatim humbly placed his reliance on his Creator, well aware that of himself he could do nothing; when, lo! the crab, which was of immense size, made his appearance, whereupon the nihang immediately fled. The crab slowly approached; and when he saw the flight of the nihang, he raised such a noise as shook the earth, so that Hatim himself was terrified, and devoutly prayed that Providence might deliver him from the evil that threatened him. He speedily took in his hand the charmed staff presented to him by Mahyur, on beholding which, the crab remained still where he was. Hatim then addressed the monstrous animal, saying, “Know you not that the oppressor shall fall by his own deceit? Why then do you injure the nihang? Is there not room sufficient for both of you in this river, that you should forcibly take possession of another’s residence?” To this the crab replied, “The nihang and I are of the same genus, what then has one of the human race to say in any contention that may take place between us?”—“There is some truth in your statement,” said Hatim, “but all creatures have their being from God, who delighteth in justice and punisheth the oppressor: if you fear him then, injure not a fellow-creature.”—“Well,” replied the crab, “at present I shall quit this place, rather than argue the point with you; but I shall meet the nihang on some future day, when you are not at hand to lend your aid.”—“Assuredly you are a mischievous animal,” rejoined Hatim; “but if you value your own life, abandon this place forever.” The crab, on hearing this, rushed upon Hatim, and was about to seize him in his claws; but he struck him such a blow with the charmed staff of the genius that his attack was rendered fruitless. The monstrous animal turned and fled; and the nihang, taking courage, began to pursue him, whereupon Hatim called out, “Desist, for to pursue him now is cowardly, as his weapons are powerless; he will never hereafter annoy you, and if you oppress him I shall put an end to your days.”

Hatim having settled the plea between the two inhabitants of the deep, threw down his staff, which turned into a boat wherein he embarked, and reaching the opposite shore of the water, he continued his journey to Mazanderán. At length he arrived in that extensive wilderness, and reclining in the shade of a tree he began to consider what would be the best way of procuring the pariru. When the darkness of night had fallen around him, several of these birds, that had been abroad in search of food, came and perched upon the tree, and began to converse among themselves: “Our solitary abode is visited by a man, Hatim ben Taï; the object of his journey is to relieve the distressed: what then are we to do?” All of them concurred in saying, “Hatim is a man of the noblest disposition, and he must not leave us in disappointment.” Having formed this resolution, the birds assembled around Hatim, and in humble posture began to embrace his feet. When he saw their wonderful form, he was highly astonished; for each of them resembles an angel in beauty of countenance. Fascinated with the charms of their fairy faces, he could not avoid exclaiming, “Gracious heaven! how inscrutable are thy decrees, who hast formed such creatures with bodies like those of birds, and countenances fair as the Houris of paradise.”

Meanwhile the strange creatures, addressing Hatim in sweet flowing language, said to him, “Oh, Hatim! may the fame of your generosity be eternal; you have subjected yourself to toils and perils for the sake of others. We know the cause of your journey hither: a certain youth has become enamoured of the magician’s daughter; the father gives his consent on certain conditions, one of which is, that he may have a pair of our species, and you, regardless of danger, have come hither on that account.”—“You say truly,” replied Hatim, “and if you will allow me to take a pair of your young, it will be doing me the highest favor; and it will also promote the suit of the despairing lover.” They deliberated among themselves, saying, “Those of us that are fully grown cannot be expected to go with this man: who is it, then, among us that will present him with a pair of young ones? It will be a service acceptable to God.”

Here one of the pariru birds said to Hatim: “Lo, I myself will give you a pair of my own young, for the sake of that Being who bestoweth all things; accept them, and take them with you wherever you please.” Hatim joyfully received the young birds; and having passed the night in that desert, he early next morning took leave of these wonderful creatures, and began to retrace his way to the capital of the magician. In the course of time, after he had traversed mountains and deserts innumerable, he arrived at the spot where the young soldier still lingered; and having presented to him the pariru birds, he said, “Rejoice, my friend, for here you see what will fulfil one of the magician’s conditions.” When the youth beheld the birds, he prostrated himself in ecstasy at Hatim’s feet, saying, “My generous benefactor! let us now proceed with these beautiful birds, and present them to the magician.” Both of them set out accordingly, and by the way Hatim related to his friend the occurrences of his journey, and the situation of the desert of Mazanderán; and having handed to him the pariru birds, he desired him to go himself and deliver them to Musahhir, and mention nothing of having been assisted in procuring them.

When they entered the city, Hatim stopped at a caravanseraï, and the youth proceeded with the birds, and delivered them to the magician, who was much surprised in seeing them, and questioned him, saying, “Young man, is this your own doing? If so, tell me truly in what part of the world are such birds to be found?” The youth, without hesitation, replied, “In the desert of Mazanderán.” The magician then asked him various particulars about the road thither, all of which he was enabled to answer satisfactorily from what Hatim had told him. “You are right,” said the magician: “so much for the first condition. Now procure me the muhra which is in the mouth of the red dragon.” The youth said, in reply, “Let me for one moment view the face of her whom I adore, for otherwise I shall not have even the power of moving.” To this the magician agreed, and sent a message to his daughter, desiring her to hold her head out at the window, and favor her lover with one look. The young man, in transports, presented himself under her window, and the lady leaning out her head as permitted, cheered him with her smiles. After they had viewed each other with the looks of affection, the youth said, “Now I am about to depart in quest of the muhra which is in the mouth of the red dragon; can you inform me where it is to be found?”—“I have heard,” replied the lady, “that it is in the Red Desert, which is in the regions of the mountain Kaf.”

The youth, on hearing this, took leave of his beloved, and hastened to Hatim, to whom he communicated all that had passed. Hatim comforted him, and said, “Cease your weeping and lamentation, for I will use every exertion for your relief: may God preserve you till my return.” Having thus spoken, Hatim parted with his friend and began his journey to the mountain Kaf. After he had passed many a stage he arrived in a wilderness, where he one day at dawn espied a dragon streaked with the seven colors of the rainbow, and having wings like those of an eagle, with which he hovered over the desert.

On beholding this terrific sight, Hatim stood aghast, while he said in his heart, “I have ere now traversed deserts and mountains like those around me; but such a creature as this I never saw before: I must keep a strict watch on his movements, in order to discover his haunt.” Hatim followed the dragon for the whole of that day, and at eve the winged monster took refuge in the cleft of a rock near which Hatim also rested, resolved to observe the proceedings of so wonderful a creature. In that same neighborhood there was a village, the inhabitants of which were then coming out for water to a fountain close by the rock. When they saw Hatim, they discovered that he was a stranger, and hospitably offered him bread and water, on which he fared; and on their inviting him to their village, he said he preferred resting for the night beneath a tree close by.

Meanwhile the people returned to their dwellings, leaving their cows and flocks at pasture on the verdant plain that lay at the foot of the rock, where the shepherds also remained to tend them for the night. At the end of the first watch, however, the winged serpent issued from his haunt, and rushing upon the cattle, speedily killed them all, one after another, with his venomous sting. Nor did his devastation there stop, for on the same night he destroyed two troops of horses belonging to a caravan that had halted at the fountain. When Hatim saw this dreadful ravage he wrung his hands in agony, but lo! the dragon, still thirsting for blood, approached the tree where he stood and in an instant stung to death those who watched the caravan, and the shepherds that were in attendance; after which, he again vanished into the hole in the rock.

Hatim spent the remainder of the night in a state of sorrow and amazement; and when the dawn of day appeared, the villagers came out to look after their flocks, but to their astonishment they beheld the plain strewed with the dead bodies of the shepherds and the carcases of their cows and horses. So deadly was the venom of this monster, that by the dawn of day the flesh was completely dissolved from off the bones and converted into a liquid of green color. One of the people conveyed the mournful tidings to the village, whereupon all the inhabitants came out crying and weeping. On seeing Hatim they addressed him, saying, “Tell us, stranger, how come you to be here alive, and how has this terrible catastrophe taken place?”—“Alas! my friends,” replied Hatim, “here I have witnessed most horrible deeds, such as I never beheld or heard of in my whole life. A seven-colored dragon, shaped as an eagle, has committed this slaughter, and retired into a hole in the rock, where you may still see him.”