On receiving this information from his aged deliverer, Hatim said, “Father, I will instantly climb the tree, and rescue the daughter; even the fear of death shall not detain me.”—“If such is your resolution,” replied his sage monitor, “you are, indeed, exposing your life to perils: I warn you of the danger, and I advise you as a friend to abandon such thoughts.”—“You say well,” rejoined Hatim, “but in this proceeding I am prepared for the worst.”—“And may I ask,” continued the old man, “what occasion have you to attempt a task which you are convinced to be fatal?”—“I am enamoured of the magician’s daughter,” replied Hatim, “and I will either rescue her, or share her fate.”
The aged man still persisted in his salutary advice, and Hatim remained equally firm. At length the former said, “Young man, if you mind not my counsel, be assured that you will have cause for sorrow.”—“Alas!” said Hatim, “what is life to me without the object of my desire? As for sorrow, it is to me familiar, for the word was written on my forehead the day I first drew breath.” The old man, without further speech, struck the tree with his staff, and said to Hatim, “Come and ascend”; after which, he vanished from the place.
Hatim in the meanwhile succeeded in climbing the tree till he reached the branch where the head of his beloved was suspended. This he had no sooner touched than his own head was severed from his body and fastened to the next branch, while his body fell into the lake. When the hour of darkness arrived, the heads as usual were united to their respective bodies, and assembled in the enchanted palace in the midst of the water. There the same scene took place that Hatim had formerly witnessed: the queen was seated upon the throne, part of which he himself was allowed to occupy. Unconscious of his own state, he sat down admiring the beauty of the magician’s daughter. He had not the least recollection of his former self; he knew not how he came there; and the idea of escape from thence never entered his mind.
The queen perceived that Hatim was a captive in the fetters of love and enchantment; but she remained silent, and occupied her attention with the song and the dance. At the hour of midnight she took his hand, and having seated him beside her at table, she offered him food of the most delicious flavor. Hatim ate of her bounty, and spent the night in mirth and pleasure, forgetful of all that he had ever been. At break of day his head, along with those of the rest, were suspended on the tree; and thus he passed several days and nights, when again the aged man came to his assistance.
The sage touched the head of Hatim with his staff, when instantly his body ascended from the lake, and once more he was himself. He stood at the foot of the tree as a man awakened from a dream; his senses returned, and the moment he beheld his aged deliverer, he prostrated himself at his feet, and said, “Most wonderful man, you have seen my dangerous state, and partly relieved me, but much more remains to be done.” The old man, pointing to the tree, said in return, “Deluded youth! thou knowest the horrors of the situation from which I have saved thee, and yet thou wilt not fly the cause of thy misery; thy affection for this damsel, then, is still unaltered?”—“Incapable of change,” replied Hatim, “and if, for the sake of God, you lend me your aid, I may succeed; otherwise, with my eyes open to the dangers which await me, I am resolved to brave them all for her whom I love.”—“Since such is your resolution,” resumed the old man, “the first thing you must do is to slay the magician her father, for till then the enchantment cannot be broken.”—“That,” replied Hatim, “I will accomplish, or perish in the attempt.”—“Your efforts will prove fruitless,” rejoined his mentor, “unless you follow my directions.”
Hatim embraced the knees of his aged friend, saying, “Speak, then, and I swear never to deviate from your advice.”—“Learn from me,” said the old man, “the following charm, which consists in repeating certain attributes of the Deity.”[1] Hatim listened attentively, and having acquired the charm, was about to depart, when the aged man gave him his parting advice: “Brave youth, the power of this charm depends on your own conduct. You must keep yourself pure, and never utter a falsehood; every day you must devoutly purify yourself with water, and never break your fast till set of sun; nor must you repeat the charm at an improper time. These are conditions which you must strictly attend to; then, should any evil befall you, repeat this sacred charm, and you will succeed; even the arts of the magician will have no power over you.”
“But how,” said Hatim, “can I find my way to the mountain of Ahmar?”—“Seize my staff in your right hand,” replied the other, “then shut your eyes, and put your trust in heaven.” Hatim did as he was ordered, and for a few minutes felt that he was moving swiftly through the air, after which his feet rested upon firm ground. He opened his eyes, but saw no one near him. Before him stood a lofty mountain, covered with the blossoms of the tulip, a circumstance which surprised him much, as it was not then the season for this flower.
Hatim began to climb the mountain, but had not proceeded many steps when his feet stuck fast to the stones that paved his way. He at first exerted himself to the utmost, but found all his efforts of no avail; his feet were immovable as the rock on which he stood. When his despair was extreme, his mind recurred to the charm which the old man had taught him. The moment he uttered the divine words of the spell, he found his feet at liberty, and with elastic steps continued his ascent along the Red Mountain. Arrived at the summit, he beheld a wide-spreading plain, in the midst of which was a fountain of cool and delicious water, surrounded with trees bearing loads of fruit such as he had never seen. Hatim sat down by the fountain; and having performed his ablutions, he repeated the words of the sacred charm, whereby all the beasts of prey, and the poisonous reptiles that infested the plain, fled from his sight.
When the magician observed the disturbance which took place among his favorite animals, he had recourse to his books of enchantment. There he beheld the following sentence: “Know that on a certain day this mountain shall be visited by Hatim, prince of Yemen, who will render of no effect all the arts which you possess.” The magician, on ascertaining that Hatim had actually arrived at the fountain, began to dive further into the depths of his mystic science, in order to discover the cause of this visit. To his utter dismay, he found that Hatim had fallen in love with his daughter, and had come with intent to slay him, secure under a sacred spell, over which the whole circle of magic art had no power.
Now the magician saw that his only safety consisted in making Hatim forget the words of the sacred charm which the old man had taught to him. Having, therefore, uttered some incantations, and blown with his breath towards the four quarters of the horizon, in an instant appeared as it were from the thin air numbers of sprites and fairies, which drew up in circles around him. He summoned one of these which bore the resemblance of his daughter, and having placed in her hand a goblet full of wine, he said to her, “Go and use all thy art to make Hatim drink of this cup.” The sprite, accompanied with others similar to those who attended the queen, proceeded to the fountain. When Hatim observed them, he thought within himself, “These are the same that I saw at the enchanted tree; can it be possible that they, too, could have arrived here already?” But he further reflected, that the place where he was belonged to the father of the fairy queen, therefore it was most likely that what he saw was no deception.