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Updated: June 19, 2025
Haschem, terrified, could answer nothing. Then the enchanter turned to the Maiden, and cried, "And you, you thought this miserable worm could defend you against my power: I will show you how useless it is to oppose me." He felt in the pocket of his black robe, and pulled out a thin box. This he opened, and a white bird flew out and perched on the table.
But week after week passed away, month after month, and even a whole year elapsed, without intelligence being received either of the life or death of the lost one. So all hope of finding him now deserted the father for ever. Haschem was not dead; he still lived, but in such retirement that it was impossible to discover his abode.
He fell with such violence on the corner of the pedestal of one of the marble pillars that it was broken to pieces: a stream of blood flowed from the wound, and, resuming his former shape, the monster gave a hollow groan. Now Haschem thought of the father's rage and revenge, and gave up his life for lost.
After welcoming him, they sat down, and Haschem related to them all that had happened to him since that evening. He related, truly and candidly, how he had forgotten his father, and nearly fallen into greater crimes, because he had been blinded by fortune, by empty greatness, and honour.
"I have only to speak three words," he answered, "and it will happen. Are you strong enough to support the highest joy that your heart can conceive and feel?" At these questions a ray of hope in the soul of the mourning father beamed through his tearful eyes. "What is it? Who are you who can promise this?" asked he. And Haschem repeated his question, "Do you feel strong enough?"
"Poor brother in misfortune!" said Haschem, "you shall not suffer want; I will take care of you: come, I will bring you assistance." He took the pans from the cage, and filled one with water from the urn, the other with grain from the gold box which the old man had given him. Scarcely had he hung the last on the cage, when, on turning round, he saw a table behind him covered with costly viands.
He wished early in the morning to send messengers in all directions; but Saad, who had come to hear if the lost one had returned home, explained to him how foolish this step would be. "Remember," said he, "that your Haschem has most probably found a night's lodging, and slept better than you.
The Story of Haschem. More than a thousand years ago, there lived in the famous city of Bagdad a man called Naima, who, although he was now grey with age, had still the lusty strength of earlier days.
They wandered the whole day, resting alternately. At every step the journey became more hazardous. The thickets became thicker and higher; they were often obliged to creep between the boughs, and their clothes hung in rags. On the fourth day they reached the foot of the mountain. There they found cultivated land and human habitations. Haschem inquired where they were, and asked for the sea.
"Dip quickly your forefinger in the blood of this slain one, and anoint with it the beak of the black bird." Haschem obeyed immediately; and scarcely had he touched the black bird's beak with the blood, than it changed, and a handsome youth in kingly dress stood before them. "Guess who this is," said the genius. "Mundian Oppu?" asked Haschem. And the genius answered, "It is he!"
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