Circular floral decoration
Circular floral decoration
THE STORY OF CALIPH STORK.
CHASID, Caliph of Bagdad, was taking his ease one beautiful afternoon, stretched out upon his couch. He had just awakened from a little nap and was in a pleasant mood. From time to time he drank from the cup of coffee one of his slaves handed to him, and took long whiffs from a rosewood pipe, stroking his long beard the while, with an air of extreme complacency. In short, it was evident that the Caliph was in a very good humour.
The Pedlar.
The Pedlar.
It was the best time in the day for any one to approach him on business, for he was usually inclined to grant any request one might ask, and for this reason, his grand vizier Mansor was wont to visit him at that hour. On this particular afternoon he came as usual, but seemed unaccountablyquiet and thoughtful. The Caliph removed his pipe from his mouth and said: “Why do you look so serious, Grand Vizier?”
The grand vizier crossed his arms on his breast, bowed low before his master, and answered:
“Sire, it is no wonder I look disturbed, for below the palace wall stands a pedlar, who has such beautiful goods for sale that it angers me to think I have no money to spare just now.”
The Caliph, who had long wished for an opportunity to confer some gift upon his vizier, sent a black slave to fetch the pedlar.
Very soon the slave returned, ushering the pedlar into his master’s presence. He was a fat little man, with a sunburnt face and dressed in rags. He carried a pack in which all sorts of wares were huddled together, pearls, rings, richly-chased pistols, goblets and combs.
The Caliph and his vizier took stock of everything, and finally the Caliph purchased handsome pistols for himself and his vizier Mansor, and a beautiful comb for Mansor’s wife.
As the pedlar was about to close his pack, the Caliph noticed a little drawer and asked if there was anything in it for sale.
The man opened the drawer and took out a snuff-box containing a dark coloured powder, and a paper covered with very curious characters, which neither the Caliph nor his vizier were able to read. “I had these from a merchant, who picked them up in the streets of Mecca,” said the pedlar. “I do not know what theycontain and they are at your service for a very low price, as I do not know what to do with them.”
The Caliph, who was always glad to purchase rare manuscripts for his library, even if he could not read them himself, bought both snuff-box and paper, and dismissed the pedlar.
But the Caliph was curious to know what the writing on the paper meant and asked the vizier if he knew of any one who would possibly be able to decipher it.
“Most gracious lord and master,” said the vizier, “near the great Mosque dwells a man known as Selim the Learned, who understands all languages; bid him come hither and maybe he will understand these mysterious characters.”
The learned Selim was soon sent for and the Caliph addressed him thus: “Selim, it is said of you that you are a very learned man; look well at this writing, and see if you can read it. If you are able to do so, I will give you a new robe for feast days, but if you are unable to do so you will receive twelve strokes upon the back and five-and-twenty upon the soles of your feet, because you have masqueraded under the name of Selim the Learned.”
Selim glanced at the writing intently and suddenly cried out: “It is Latin, my Lord, most certainly it is Latin.”
“Very well, then,” commanded the Caliph impatiently, “if you know that it is Latin, tell me what it means.”
Selim began to translate: “Man, whoever you be, who shall find this, praise Allah for his mercy. Hewho shall take a pinch of the powder in this snuff-box and say the word ‘Mutabor’ shall be able to transform himself into any kind of animal and understand the creature’s language. When he wishes to return to his original form he must bow three times towards the East and repeat the same word. But let him beware, when in the transformed state, never to laugh, otherwise he will forget the magic word and will be condemned to remain an animal.”
When Selim had finished reading, the Caliph was beside himself with joy. He made Selim take an oath that he would not reveal the secret, gave him a handsome robe, and sent him away.
“I call that a first-rate purchase,” said he to Mansor. “How I long to become an animal! Early to-morrow morning you shall come with me, we will go out into the fields, take a pinch of snuff from my box, and then listen to all that is being said in the air and in the water, in the field and in the woodland.”
The following morning the Caliph Chasid had scarcely finished his breakfast, when the grand vizier appeared in order to accompany his master upon his morning walk. The Caliph tucked the snuff-box containing the magic powder into his sash, and having commanded his attendants to remainbehind, he and his vizier set out alone upon their way.
First they passed through the royal gardens, but looked in vain for some living creature so that they might test the power of the powder. Then the vizier suggested they should visit a pond where he had frequently seen a number of storks disporting themselves, their dignified ways and hoarse cries having attracted his attention.
The two men begin to turn into storksImmediately their legs began to shrink.(P.14.)
Immediately their legs began to shrink.(P.14.)
The Caliph approved of his suggestion and accordingly they went to the pond. On their approach they noticed a stork walking gravely to and fro, searching for frogs, and now and again uttering loud cries; at the same time they saw, above them in the air, a second stork floating gracefully towards them.
“I wager my beard, Sire,” said the vizier, “these two long-legs will hold an amusing conversation together. What do you say to our transforming ourselves into storks?”
“The very thing,” answered the Caliph, “but first let us be very careful that we know the way to become men again. Let me see—we must bow three times towards the East, and say ‘Mutabor,’ and immediately I shall be the Caliph, and you my vizier. But for heaven’s sake do not laugh, otherwise all will be lost.”
As the Caliph spoke he saw the second stork slowly drop to earth, so he quickly drew his snuff-box from his girdle, took a pinch, offered the box to his vizier, who likewise snuffed the powder, whilst the pair of them cried simultaneously, ‘Mutabor!’
Immediately their legs began to shrink and to become thin and red, their beautiful yellow slippers turned into unshapely storks’ feet, their arms became wings, their necks shot up from between their shoulders to the length of an ell at least, their beards disappeared, and their bodies were covered with soft white feathers.
“You have a pretty beak, my lord vizier,” said the Caliph, as he stared in astonishment at his companion. “By the beard of the prophet, I have never seen such a sight in my life.”
“Many thanks,” replied the vizier bowing. “If I may be permitted to say so, you are almost better looking as a stork than a Caliph. But come, let us join our companions and find out if we really can understand stork language.”
In the meantime the other stork, which had just alighted, was pluming its feathers as it approached the first stork, so the two newly-made birds hastenedto come up to them, and to their astonishment overheard the following extraordinary conversation.
“Good-morning, Mrs. Long-legs, how early you are up.”
“Ah, my dear Clapperbill! I just came out to get a snack; anything I can offer you, my dear, in the shape of a bit of lizard or a tit-bit of frog?”
“Thanks all the same, but I’ve really no appetite—I came here for quite a different reason—I have to dance to-day before my father’s guests, and I came here to practise a little by myself.”
With these words the young stork began to twist and turn about in the most ridiculous attitudes imaginable. The Caliph and Mansor stared at her in surprise, but when she stood on one foot, stretched out her wings and struck an attitude of supposed grace, she looked so absurd that they could no longer contain themselves, but burst out into hearty and prolonged laughter. It was some time before they could control themselves, but at length the Caliph stopped laughing, and said: “Oh! what a joke that was—I would not have missed it for any money. What a pity our laughter frightened the silly things away; they might otherwise have sung to us also.”
But suddenly the vizier remembered that they had been forbidden to laugh during the time of their transformation. He at once reminded the Caliph of this. “Mecca and Medina,” cried he, “it would be a bad joke indeed if we had to remain storks for the rest of our lives. See if you can remember the magic word, for upon my soul, I seem to have forgotten it.”
“We must bow three times towards the east and say ‘Mu-Mu-Mu—’”
No further could they get. They bowed and bowed until their beaks touched the ground, but try as they would they couldnotremember the magic word, and the unfortunate Caliph and his vizier were doomed to remain two storks.
The enchanted pair wandered sadly from field to field, wondering what they could do to end their misery. They could not rid themselves of their birds forms, and it was equally impossible to return to the town and declare themselves to be the Caliph and his vizier, for who would have believed a couple of storks, and was it to be supposed the inhabitants of Bagdad would consent to be ruled by a stork?
And so they crept about for days, sustaining themselves meagrely on wild fruits, which they were scarcely able to eat on account of their long beaks, but as yet they had no appetite for lizards and frogs, and such-like delicacies. Their only relaxation was the pleasure they found in the use of their wings, for they were able to fly into Bagdad and watch, from the roofs of the houses, what went on in the city.
At first they noticed great sorrow and unrest, but within four days all this was changed and, watching from the roof of the Caliph’s palace, they noticed a magnificent procession winding along in the street below—drums and fifes sounded, and a man clothedin a scarlet robe, embroidered with gold, was seated upon a finely-caparisoned horse, surrounded by a glittering escort. Half the inhabitants of Bagdad came out to watch the procession, and cried as it passed—“Hail! Mizra, ruler of Bagdad.”
The two storks looked at each other and the Caliph said—“Can you not guess now why we have been thus bewitched? Mizra is the son of my deadly enemy, the powerful magician Kaschnur, who once in an evil moment swore revenge against me. But we will not despair; come, my faithful comrade, we will seek the grave of our great prophet, and perchance in that holy spot we shall be freed from the enchantment.”
Two storks ignore a nearby frogThey had no appetite for lizards and frogs.(P.16.)
They had no appetite for lizards and frogs.(P.16.)
So they left the palace roof and flew towards Medina.
But they had had so little practice in flying that they soon grew weary. “Oh! sire!” groaned the vizier, after a couple of hours, “with yourpermission I must rest for awhile, you fly too quickly for me. It is already evening, and would it not be as well to seek shelter for the night?”
Chasid agreed to his companion’s request, and as he saw a ruin in the valley beneath, which promised to afford a roof to cover them, they flew down to it. The place seemed to have been at one time a castle. Beautiful pillars raised themselves in the dilapidated apartments, which still retained evidences of their former splendour.
Chasid and Mansor wandered through the corridors, seeking for a dry spot suitable for a resting place, when suddenly Mansor stood still.
“My lord and master,” he whispered softly, “ridiculous as it may appear for a vizier, not to mention a stork, to be afraid of ghosts, there is no doubt I feel an uncomfortable sensation of fright, for can you not hear a weird groaning and sobbing noise close at hand?”
The Caliph listened and heard the unmistakable sound of human weeping. Anxious to solve the mystery he hastened towards the spot from which the sound proceeded.
The vizier seized him by the wing and begged him earnestly not to place himself in the way of fresh danger, but the Caliph carried a brave heart beneath his stork’s feathers and, disengaging himself from his companion, though with the loss of some feathers, he hurried along the dark corridor.
Presently he came to a door which was closed, but not fastened, and from behind which he distinctly heard the sound of sighing and weeping. He pushedthe door open with his beak and stood astounded upon the threshold. In a ruined chamber, lighted only by the rays of the moon, which streamed through a little casement window, he saw a large owl. Tears streamed from her great brown eyes, and with hoarse screeching voice she bemoaned her sorrows, but no sooner did she perceive the Caliph and his vizier than she uttered a cry of joy; daintily wiping the tears from her eyes with her brown-tinted wings, she spoke to them, to their utter astonishment, in excellent Arabic—
The stork bows to the owlHe bowed his long neck.(P.20.)
He bowed his long neck.(P.20.)
“Welcome, O ye storks,” she cried, “you come to me as tokens of my deliverance, for it was once prophesied to me that great good fortune would befall me through the intervention of two storks.”
As soon as the Caliph had recovered from his astonishment, he brought his thin feet together and bowed his long neck in an elegant attitude.
“Owl,” said he, “after what you have said, may I consider myself to be in the presence of a companion in distress? But alas! your hopes that we may be able to assist you are in vain. You will recognise our helplessness when you have heard our story.”
The owl begged him to recount it, and the Caliph made her acquainted with all that had befallen them.
When the Caliph had told his story the owl thanked him and said: “Now you shall hear my story and you will then see that I am no less unhappy than you and your vizier. My father is the King of the Indies, and I am his only and unfortunate daughter, Lusa by name. The same wicked magician Kaschnur, to whom you owe your misfortunes, bewitched me also. One day he came to my father and demanded that I should be given to his son Mizra for a wife, but my father, who is a hasty man, ordered him to be thrown down the steps. The miserable wretch knew, however, how to transform himself and approach me when I was walking in my garden. Disguised as a slave, he offered me a refreshing drink, but one whichchanged me into this horrible form. Fainting with horror, I was seized by him and carried here, and before leaving me he shrieked these words in a terrible voice—
“‘Here shall you remain, hideous and shunned even by the beasts themselves, until your end comes, or until some person shall be willing, in spite of your dreadful appearance, to make you his wife. This is my revenge upon you and your proud father.’
“All this took place many months ago. Lonely and sad I have passed my miserable days, shunned by all, even the beautiful face of Nature turned from me, for by day I am blind, and it is only when the moon’s faint rays pierce my prison window that the veil falls from my eyes.”
As the owl ceased speaking, she once more wiped her eyes with her wings, for the recital of her woes had caused her tears to flow afresh.
The princess’s story had made the Caliph very serious—“It seems to me,” he said, “that there is a strong resemblance between your trouble and ours, but where shall we find the key to unlock the mystery?”
The owl answered more hopefully, “My lord as I told you, it was prophesied of me in my youth, by a wise woman, that good fortune would come to me by the help of a stork. Now, the magician who was the cause of all our misfortunes comes once a month to these ruins, and feasts and makes merry with his companions in an apartment close by. Many a time I have listened to their conversation and heard them recount their wicked deeds; might it not happen thatKaschnur would perhaps let fall the magic word that would release you, during one of these revels?”
“Oh! dearest princess,” cried the excited Caliph, “tell me, I beseech you, the date of Kaschnur’s next visit!”
The owl was silent for a short space of time, then said she—“Do not be offended if I make a condition with you before granting your wish.”
“What is it,” cried the Caliph, “whatever it is, be sure I shall be willing to grant it you.”
“Well, it is this,” said the owl; “I am as anxious as you are to regain my natural form, and this can only happen if one of you will offer me his hand.”
The storks appeared somewhat taken aback, and the Caliph beckoned his vizier aside.
“Grand vizier,” said he, “it is a great nuisance, but you must just take her.”
“Indeed,” replied the vizier, “and when I reach home my wife will scratch my eyes out for my pains. Besides, I am an old man, whilst you are young and unmarried, and are therefore a more suitable match for a young and beautiful princess.”
“Well, that is the point,” the Caliph sighed sadly; “who told you she was young and beautiful? I don’t care to buy a cat in a bag like that.”
They argued together for some time, but when the Caliph found his vizier would rather remain a stork than marry the owl, he made up his mind to fulfil the condition himself.
THE CALIPH STORK“The owl warned them to be as silent as the grave”(p.25.)
THE CALIPH STORK“The owl warned them to be as silent as the grave”(p.25.)
The owl was overjoyed, and assured the two storks they could not have arrived at a moreopportune moment, for the magicians were to meet there that very night.
So she and the storks left the little room and threaded their way along a dark narrow corridor until they came to a broken-down wall, through the crevices of which a bright light streamed. The owl warned them to be as silent as the grave and pointed out a hole through which they could peep into the great hall beyond.
This hall was magnificently decorated, and lighted up by many different coloured lamps. In the middle of the apartment stood a round table set with a variety of the choicest dishes. Round the table were couches, upon which eight men reclined, and one of these men the storks immediately recognised as the pedlar who had sold them the magic powder. His neighbour invited him to recount his latest doings, and amongst other stories he recounted that of the Caliph and his vizier.
“What was the magic word you gave them?” asked one of the other magicians.
“A good difficult Latin one—it was ‘Mutabor.’”
As the storks heard this word they were fairly beside themselves with joy. They ran so quickly to the door of the ruin that the owl could scarcely follow them. But when they reached the open air the Caliph turned to the owl and said in moved tones:—“Preserver of my life and of the life of myfriend, accept not only my eternal gratitude, but myself as your husband!”
He and the vizier then turned towards the East, three times they bowed their long necks towards the rising sun and cried “Mutabor,” and in a moment they were restored to their former state, and Caliph and vizier fell into each other’s arms and embraced, congratulating each other upon the joy of their newly-found life.
But who shall describe their astonishment when they looked round and saw a lovely lady, gorgeously attired, standing before them. Smilingly she gave her hand to the Caliph. “Do you not recognise your wife, the brown owl?” said she.
The Caliph was so enraptured at the sight of her beauty and grace that he declared the most fortunate thing that had ever happened to him was to be turned into a stork.
The three set out towards Bagdad together. As the Caliph found in his pockets not only the magic snuff-box, but his purse also, he was able to purchase in the next village all the necessaries required for their journey, and so they were able to push forward, and soon reached the gates of Bagdad.
Arrived there, the greatest astonishment prevailed at the sight of the Caliph and his companions. He had been given up for dead, and the populace was overjoyed to welcome back their beloved ruler, but their hatred towards the usurper Mizra was as great in proportion.
The people crowded into the palace and seized upon the old magician and his son. The Caliphordered the old man to be taken to the apartment of the ruin the owl had inhabited, and there to be hanged, but the son, who was ignorant of his father’s magic arts, the Caliph gave the choice of death or a pinch of snuff. He chose the latter, and the vizier at once offered him the snuff-box. He took a mighty pinch, and, the Caliph pronouncing the magic word, he at once became transformed into a stork. The Caliph had a large cage made for him which he ordered to be placed in his gardens, and in which Mizra was confined for the rest of his life.
Long and happily the Caliph lived with his wife, the princess, the pleasantest hours of the day being when the grand vizier paid his afternoon call, and they talked together of their curious experiences as storks, and when the Caliph was in a particularly good humour he would condescend to imitate the vizier as he looked when a stork: he would strut stiffly up and down the room, flap his arms as if they were wings, and bow towards the East, vainly striving to recollect the forgotten word. This performance gave the Calipha and her children the greatest delight, but when the Caliph teased the vizier too sorely and croaked “Mu-Mu-Mu-” for too great a length of time, the vizier would threaten his master—“I will tell theCaliphawhat took place outside the door of theowl princess’schamber!”