Then he turned to the East. Three times the storks bowed their long necks to the sun just rising above the mountains, "Mutabor!" shouted they, and in a trice they were men again. Then, in the joy of their newly-returned life, master and follower were laughing and weeping by turns in each other's arms.
But who could describe their astonishment when they turned around and saw a beautiful lady, richly dressed, standing before them? With a smile she gave the Caliph her hand.
"Do you no longer recognize the owl?" she asked.
It really was the Princess. The Caliph was so enraptured by her beauty and grace, that he declared his transformation into a stork had been the best piece of fortune that had ever happened to him.
The three now set out together on their journey to Bagdad. The Caliph found in his clothes not only the box of magic powder, but his purse as well. He therefore bought in the next village whatever was necessary for their journey, and thus they soon reached the gates of Bagdad. There the arrival of the Caliph caused the greatest surprise. He had long since been given up for dead, and the joy of the people at getting back their beloved ruler knew no bounds. All the more was their wrath inflamed against the traitor Mizra. They rushed to the palace, and took the old sorcerer and his son prisoners.
The Caliph sent the old man to the ruins, and had him hanged in the very room that had been occupied by the Princess when an owl. But to the son, who understood nothing of the art of his father, he gave the choice of death or a pinch of the powder. As the prisoner chose the latter, the Grand Vizier offered him the box. A generous pinch, followed by the magic word of the Caliph, and he became a stork. The Caliph secured him in an iron cage, which was placed in the garden.
Long and happily Caliph Chasid lived with his wife, the Princess. His pleasantest hours were always those of the afternoon, when the Grand Vizier visited him. Then they often spoke of their adventures as storks, and whenever the Caliph felt unusually merry, he began to imitate the Grand Vizier as he appeared when a stork. He stalked up and down the room, set up a great clapping, waved his arms as though they were wings, and showed how the Vizier had turned to the East and called, "Mu-- Mu-- Mu--." All this was great sport for the Caliph's wife and children. But sometimes, when the Caliph clapped too long and cried, "Mu-- Mu-- Mu--" too often, the Vizier was wont to silence him with the threat that if he did not stop he would tell the Princess what their conversation had been before the door of her room in the ruin.
As Selim Baruch finished his story, the merchants testified their approval thereof most heartily.
"Of a truth, the afternoon has passed without our knowing it," said one of them, lifting the curtain of the tent. "The evening wind blows fresh; we could put behind us a good stretch of road."
As his companions were of the same opinion, the tents were folded, and the caravan started on its way in the same order in which it had entered camp.