For forty days and nights he sailed onwards without seeing any object but the golden waves and the illumined clouds. At length he reached the shore, and began to traverse the newly discovered regions. Seven days after, he came to a desert of burning sand, hot as the ashes of a newly quenched furnace. He made an effort to advance, but soon found himself unable to stand. He sunk exhausted to the earth; his lips were parched of their moisture, and the whole of his body scorched beyond endurance. In vain did he apply the muhra of the bear’s daughter; it produced no effect.
In this condition, Hatim, unable either to remain or return, tossing from side to side on the fiery sand, was about to bid adieu to life, when the two mysterious beings that had presented him with the precious stones, stood beside him, and having administered to him a draught of cool and refreshing water, recalled his departing soul. When Hatim recovered his senses, and saw the two demons before him, he said, “To you my debt of gratitude is indeed heavy, for verily your aid has been opportune.”—“Brave Hatim,” they rejoined, “it is part of our duty to direct the stranger on his way. You must, therefore, advance through this desert till you reach the fiery ocean, which you must cross, as you have lately crossed the other seas; and should it please the Great Creator, you will, thereafter, soon arrive in your own country. Meanwhile, accept this talisman, and when you feel the heat oppressive, take the talisman in your mouth, and the fire shall have no power over you. When arrived on the farther side, cast the talisman into the fiery ocean, and proceed on your journey.”
Hatim took the talisman in his mouth, and advanced for three days amidst the burning sand, when at last the flames so increased that it appeared as if the heavens and the earth were mingled in one blaze. He stood still for some minutes on the brink of the fiery ocean. Here his courage failed, for he saw not the possibility of surmounting this last barrier. At length a boat was seen to emerge from the flaming billows, but even then Hatim hesitated whether to enter; for, said he, “How can I, with my eyes open, entrust myself to a frail bark on a sea of liquid fire?” Again he reflected, “After all, this is my only way of escape; and if I wish to succeed in my enterprise, I must brave this danger; if it is the will of the Creator to spare my life, he is able to protect me in the midst of the flames.”
Hatim entered the vessel, which began forthwith to cleave its way through the flaming waves. Dreadful was his situation; and though the fire hurt him not, still he durst not open his eyes from fear of the glare of light that surrounded him. Three weeks after the commencement of this perilous voyage, he felt his bark tossed round with amazing rapidity in the midst of a whirlpool. Hatim now felt assured that his last hour was arrived. He still sat with his eyes closed, recommending his soul to the protection of heaven, when the vessel sunk from beneath him, and he found himself floating swiftly along the current. Hatim in this helpless state resigned himself to fate. Over his eyes were drawn the curtains of despair, and his head touched the knee of anguish. For three days and nights he was thus tossed along the billows of the fiery ocean, till at length the waves cast him almost lifeless on solid ground.
Hatim ventured to open his eyes, thinking that he was still on the sea-shore, but no trace could he see of the flaming billows, nor of the dazzling light that lately enveloped him. He stood up, and threw away the talisman given him by the two genii, after which he began to explore the surrounding country. He soon discovered, to his great joy, that he was in his native land of Yemen; and seeing a peasant standing beside a field of corn, he went up to him and said, “Tell me, my good man, what is the name of this country, and who is its sovereign?” The peasant, instead of replying, stood motionless with his eyes fixed on the countenance of him who bore such resemblance to his beloved prince. “Are you deaf, my friend?” resumed Hatim, “or are you unwilling to answer a plain question?”—“Forgive me, noble sir,” said the peasant, “but you look so like the brave and generous Hatim, that the joy of once more beholding my prince has deprived my tongue of utterance.”
Hatim, without discovering himself, continued his conversation with the peasant, and said, “Who is this Hatim you speak of, and what do you know of him?”—“He is,” replied the peasant, “my true and beloved prince; for you must know, stranger, that this is the kingdom of Yemen, of which Taï is sovereign. The heir-apparent to the throne is the noble Hatim, who seven years ago left his paternal domains to travel through strange countries. Once only in that long period hath he gladdened our hearts with tidings of his welfare, by letters brought to his father by the youthful queen Zarinposh.”
Having thus spoken the peasant was about to depart, when Hatim addressed him, saying, “Stay, my good subject, I am indeed Hatim, the son of Taï; and if you wish to do me a favor, go to my father’s hall and assure himself and my mother of my welfare, and my unimpaired affection towards them. But first of all, tell me where I may quench my thirst, for I am wearied with travelling.” The peasant quickly ran to his cottage, and having brought the best food and drink he could procure, presented them to his prince. After Hatim had refreshed himself, he stood for some minutes intently looking towards his father’s capital, which was situated close by. At length he turned, and addressing the peasant, who stood at a respectful distance awaiting his further commands, said, “Good friend, accept my thanks for your hospitality. Remember my request, and say to my father that my time is pressing, for I am journeying to Shahabad. I trust I shall soon be able to return to my native country, no more to wander.”
Shortly after, Hatim arrived safely in the city of Shahabad. When the people of Husn Banu saw him, they conveyed him with the highest respect to the gate of their fair sovereign. Husn Banu, informed of Hatim’s arrival, hastily threw on her veil, and gave orders for his admission into the palace. After mutual salutations, Husn Banu asked of Hatim the account of his long journey, the events of which he minutely detailed from beginning to end. After he had finished his narrative, the fair queen said to him, “Brave prince of Yemen, I am satisfied that what you have stated is strictly true; but have you nothing to show in confirmation?” Hatim produced the ruby, the diamond, and the emerald which the two genii had permitted him to bring from Nida, and presented the same to Husn Banu, saying, “These are ample proofs of what I have related; and I may add, that when my right hand was transformed into a mass of silver, and when, on washing in the fountain, it was again restored to its original form, my nails still retained the hue of silver, as you now behold. On drinking from the golden sea, four of my teeth were transformed into pure gold, and, as you see, still continue so.”
Husn Banu expressed her admiration of Hatim’s bravery and constancy, and with her own hands gave him food and drink. Hatim tasted slightly of her bounty, and said that he longed to see his friend the Assyrian prince. He therefore hastened to the Mihmanseraï[3], where he found Munir. He gave his friend every consolation in his power, saying, “Be of good cheer, for now there are only two questions to solve, and God will grant success.” Three days thus passed, after which Hatim presented himself before Husn Banu, and said, “Tell me, fair lady, what is your sixth question?”—“I have a pearl here,” replied Husn Banu, “as large as a duck’s egg: bring another equal to it.” Hatim requested to see the pearl; and having got an exact model of it made of silver, he deposited the same in his turban. Taking leave of Husn Banu and the Assyrian prince Munir, he then set out on his sixth journey.