The youth told what had happened to him, and asked the Anka whether he could help him to get to the Wind-Demon.
“It is no easy matter,” said the bird; “but even if thou couldst get to him, I would counsel thee to let it alone and stay rather among us.”
“Not I,” replied the resolute youth; “I will either release my wife or perish there!” Then the Anka saw that he could not turn him from his purpose, and began to explain to him all about the palace of the Wind-Demon. “He is now asleep,” said the Anka, “and thou mayest be able to carry off thy wife; but if he should awake and see thee, he will without doubt grind thee to atoms. Guard against him thou cannot, for eye cannot see and fire cannot harm him, so look well to thyself!”
So next day the youth set out on his journey, and when he had gone on and on for a long, long time, he saw before him a vast palace that had neither door nor chimney, nor length nor breadth. It was the palace of the Wind-Demon. His wife chanced just then to be sitting at the window, and when she saw her husband she leaped clean out of the window to him. The King’s son caught his wife in his arms, and there were no bounds to their joy and their tears, till at last the girl bethought her of the terrible demon.
“This is now the third day that he has slept,” cried she; “let us hasten away before the fourth day is spent also.” So they mounted, whipped up their horses, and were already well on their way when the Wind-Demon awoke on the fourth day. Then he went to the girl’s door and bade her open, that he might at least see her face for a brief moment. He waited, but he got no answer. Then, auguring some evil, he beat in the door, and lo! the place where the damsel should have lain was cold.
“So-ho, Prince Mehmed!” cried he, “thou hast come here, eh, and stolen away my Sultana? Well, wait a while! go thy way, whip up thy fleet steed! for I’ll catch thee up in the long run.” And with that he sat down at his ease, drank his coffee, smoked his chibook, and then rose up and went after them.
Meanwhile the King’s son was galloping off with the girl with all his might, when all at once the girl felt the demon’s breath, and cried out in her terror: “Alas, my King, the Wind-Demon is here!” Like a whirlwind the invisible monster was upon them, caught up the youth, tore off his arms and legs, and smashed his skull and all his bones till there was not a bit of him left.
The damsel began to weep bitterly. “Even if thou hast killed him,” sobbed she, “let me at least gather together his bones and pile them up somewhere, for if thou suffer it, I would fain bury him.”—“I care not what thou dost with his bones!” cried the Demon.
So the damsel took the bones of the King’s son, piled them up together, kissed the horse between the eyes, placed the bones on his saddle, and whispered in his ear: “Take these bones, my good steed, take them to the proper place.” Then the Demon took the girl and led her back to the palace, for the power of her beauty was so great that it always kept the Demon close to her. Into her presence, indeed, she never suffered the monster to come. At the door of her chamber he had to stop, but he was allowed to show himself to her now and then.
Meanwhile the good steed galloped away with the youth’s bones till he stopped at the door of the palace of the youngest sister, and then he neighed and neighed till the damsel heard him. She rushed out to the horse, and when she perceived the knapsack, and in the knapsack the bones of her brother, she began to weep bitterly, and dashed herself against the ground as if she would have dashed herself to pieces. She could hardly wait for her lord the Anka to come home. At last there was a sound of mighty wings, and the Padishah of the Birds, the emerald Anka, came home, and when he saw the scattered bones of the King’s son in the basket, he called together all the birds of the air and asked them, saying: “Which of you goes to the Garden of Paradise?”