the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water

The next morning Prince Bahman got up very early, and after bidding
farewell to his brother and sister, mounted his horse. But just as he
was about to touch it with his whip, he was stopped by a cry from the
princess.

"Oh, perhaps after all you may never come back; one never can tell what
accidents may happen. Give it up, I implore you, for I would a
thousand times rather lose the Talking Bird, and the Singing Tree and
the Golden Water, than that you should run into danger."

"My dear sister," answered the prince, "accidents only happen to
unlucky people, and I hope that I am not one of them. But as
everything is uncertain, I promise you to be very careful. Take this
knife," he continued, handing her one that hung sheathed from his belt,
"and every now and then draw it out and look at it. As long as it
keeps bright and clean as it is to-day, you will know that I am living;
but if the blade is spotted with blood, it will be a sign that I am
dead, and you shall weep for me."

So saying, Prince Bahman bade them farewell once more, and started on
the high road, well mounted and fully armed. For twenty days he rode
straight on, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, till he
found himself drawing near the frontiers of Persia. Seated under a
tree by the wayside he noticed a hideous old man, with a long white
moustache, and beard that almost fell to his feet. His nails had grown
to an enormous length, and on his head he wore a huge hat, which served
him for an umbrella.

Prince Bahman, who, remembering the directions of the old woman, had
been since sunrise on the look-out for some one, recognised the old man
at once to be a dervish. He dismounted from his horse, and bowed low
before the holy man, saying by way of greeting, "My father, may your
days be long in the land, and may all your wishes be fulfilled!"

The dervish did his best to reply, but his moustache was so thick that
his words were hardly intelligible, and the prince, perceiving what was
the matter, took a pair of scissors from his saddle pockets, and
requested permission to cut off some of the moustache, as he had a
question of great importance to ask the dervish. The dervish made a
sign that he might do as he liked, and when a few inches of his hair
and beard had been pruned all round the prince assured the holy man
that he would hardly believe how much younger he looked. The dervish
smiled at his compliments, and thanked him for what he had done.

"Let me," he said, "show you my gratitude for making me more
comfortable by telling me what I can do for you."

"Gentle dervish," replied Prince Bahman, "I come from far, and I seek
the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water. I know that
they are to be found somewhere in these parts, but I am ignorant of the
exact spot. Tell me, I pray you, if you can, so that I may not have
travelled on a useless quest." While he was speaking, the prince
observed a change in the countenance of the dervish, who waited for
some time before he made reply.

"My lord," he said at last, "I do know the road for which you ask, but
your kindness and the friendship I have conceived for you make me loth
to point it out."

"But why not?" inquired the prince. "What danger can there be?"

"The very greatest danger," answered the dervish. "Other men, as brave
as you, have ridden down this road, and have put me that question. I
did my best to turn them also from their purpose, but it was of no use.
Not one of them would listen to my words, and not one of them came
back. Be warned in time, and seek to go no further."

"I am grateful to you for your interest in me," said Prince Bahman,
"and for the advice you have given, though I cannot follow it. But
what dangers can there be in the adventure which courage and a good
sword cannot meet?"

"And suppose," answered the dervish, "that your enemies are invisible,
how then?"

"Nothing will make me give it up," replied the prince, "and for the
last time I ask you to tell me where I am to go."

When the dervish saw that the prince's mind was made up, he drew a ball
from a bag that lay near him, and held it out. "If it must be so," he
said, with a sigh, "take this, and when you have mounted your horse
throw the ball in front of you. It will roll on till it reaches the
foot of a mountain, and when it stops you will stop also. You will
then throw the bridle on your horse's neck without any fear of his
straying, and will dismount. On each side you will see vast heaps of
big black stones, and will hear a multitude of insulting voices, but
pay no heed to them, and, above all, beware of ever turning your head.
If you do, you will instantly become a black stone like the rest. For
those stones are in reality men like yourself, who have been on the
same quest, and have failed, as I fear that you may fail also. If you
manage to avoid this pitfall, and to reach the top of the mountain, you
will find there the Talking Bird in a splendid cage, and you can ask of
him where you are to seek the Singing Tree and the Golden Water. That
is all I have to say. You know what you have to do, and what to avoid,
but if you are wise you will think of it no more, but return whence you
have come."

The prince smilingly shook his head, and thanking the dervish once
more, he sprang on his horse and threw the ball before him.

The ball rolled along the road so fast that Prince Bahman had much
difficulty in keeping up with it, and it never relaxed its speed till
the foot of the mountain was reached. Then it came to a sudden halt,
and the prince at once got down and flung the bridle on his horse's
neck. He paused for a moment and looked round him at the masses of
black stones with which the sides of the mountain were covered, and
then began resolutely to ascend. He had hardly gone four steps when he
heard the sound of voices around him, although not another creature was
in sight.

"Who is this imbecile?" cried some, "stop him at once." "Kill him,"
shrieked others, "Help! robbers! murderers! help! help!" "Oh, let him
alone," sneered another, and this was the most trying of all, "he is
such a beautiful young man; I am sure the bird and the cage must have
been kept for him."

At first the prince took no heed to all this clamour, but continued to
press forward on his way. Unfortunately this conduct, instead of
silencing the voices, only seemed to irritate them the more, and they
arose with redoubled fury, in front as well as behind. After some time
he grew bewildered, his knees began to tremble, and finding himself in
the act of falling, he forgot altogether the advice of the dervish. He
turned to fly down the mountain, and in one moment became a black stone.

As may be imagined, Prince Perviz and his sister were all this time in
the greatest anxiety, and consulted the magic knife, not once but many
times a day. Hitherto the blade had remained bright and spotless, but
on the fatal hour on which Prince Bahman and his horse were changed
into black stones, large drops of blood appeared on the surface. "Ah!
my beloved brother," cried the princess in horror, throwing the knife
from her, "I shall never see you again, and it is I who have killed
you. Fool that I was to listen to the voice of that temptress, who
probably was not speaking the truth. What are the Talking Bird and the
Singing Tree to me in comparison with you, passionately though I long
for them!"

Prince Perviz's grief at his brother's loss was not less than that of
Princess Parizade, but he did not waste his time on useless
lamentations.

"My sister," he said, "why should you think the old woman was deceiving
you about these treasures, and what would have been her object in doing
so! No, no, our brother must have met his death by some accident, or
want of precaution, and to-morrow I will start on the same quest."

Terrified at the thought that she might lose her only remaining
brother, the princess entreated him to give up his project, but he
remained firm. Before setting out, however, he gave her a chaplet of a
hundred pearls, and said, "When I am absent, tell this over daily for
me. But if you should find that the beads stick, so that they will not
slip one after the other, you will know that my brother's fate has
befallen me. Still, we must hope for better luck."

Then he departed, and on the twentieth day of his journey fell in with
the dervish on the same spot as Prince Bahman had met him, and began to
question him as to the place where the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree
and the Golden Water were to be found. As in the case of his brother,
the dervish tried to make him give up his project, and even told him
that only a few weeks since a young man, bearing a strong resemblance
to himself, had passed that way, but had never come back again.

"That, holy dervish," replied Prince Perviz, "was my elder brother, who
is now dead, though how he died I cannot say."

"He is changed into a black stone," answered the dervish, "like all the
rest who have gone on the same errand, and you will become one likewise
if you are not more careful in following my directions." Then he
charged the prince, as he valued his life, to take no heed of the
clamour of voices that would pursue him up the mountain, and handing
him a ball from the bag, which still seemed to be half full, he sent
him on his way.

When Prince Perviz reached the foot of the mountain he jumped from his
horse, and paused for a moment to recall the instructions the dervish
had given him. Then he strode boldly on, but had scarcely gone five or
six paces when he was startled by a man's voice that seemed close to
his ear, exclaiming: "Stop, rash fellow, and let me punish your
audacity." This outrage entirely put the dervish's advice out of the
prince's head. He drew his sword, and turned to avenge himself, but
almost before he had realised that there was nobody there, he and his
horse were two black stones.

Not a morning had passed since Prince Perviz had ridden away without
Princess Parizade telling her beads, and at night she even hung them
round her neck, so that if she woke she could assure herself at once of
her brother's safety. She was in the very act of moving them through
her fingers at the moment that the prince fell a victim to his
impatience, and her heart sank when the first pearl remained fixed in
its place. However she had long made up her mind what she would do in
such a case, and the following morning the princess, disguised as a
man, set out for the mountain.

As she had been accustomed to riding from her childhood, she managed to
travel as many miles daily as her brothers had done, and it was, as
before, on the twentieth day that she arrived at the place where the
dervish was sitting. "Good dervish," she said politely, "will you
allow me to rest by you for a few moments, and perhaps you will be so
kind as to tell me if you have ever heard of a Talking Bird, a Singing
Tree, and some Golden Water that are to be found somewhere near this?"

"Madam," replied the dervish, "for in spite of your manly dress your
voice betrays you, I shall be proud to serve you in any way I can. But
may I ask the purpose of your question?"

"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I have heard such glowing
descriptions of these three things, that I cannot rest till I possess
them."

"Madam," said the dervish, "they are far more beautiful than any
description, but you seem ignorant of all the difficulties that stand
in your way, or you would hardly have undertaken such an adventure.
Give it up, I pray you, and return home, and do not ask me to help you
to a cruel death."

"Holy father," answered the princess, "I come from far, and I should be
in despair if I turned back without having attained my object. You
have spoken of difficulties; tell me, I entreat you, what they are, so
that I may know if I can overcome them, or see if they are beyond my
strength."

So the dervish repeated his tale, and dwelt more firmly than before on
the clamour of the voices, the horrors of the black stones, which were
once living men, and the difficulties of climbing the mountain; and
pointed out that the chief means of success was never to look behind
till you had the cage in your grasp.

"As far as I can see," said the princess, "the first thing is not to
mind the tumult of the voices that follow you till you reach the cage,
and then never to look behind. As to this, I think I have enough
self-control to look straight before me; but as it is quite possible
that I might be frightened by the voices, as even the boldest men have
been, I will stop up my ears with cotton, so that, let them make as
much noise as they like, I shall hear nothing."

"Madam," cried the dervish, "out of all the number who have asked me
the way to the mountain, you are the first who has ever suggested such
a means of escaping the danger! It is possible that you may succeed,
but all the same, the risk is great."

"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I feel in my heart that I shall
succeed, and it only remains for me to ask you the way I am to go."

Then the dervish said that it was useless to say more, and he gave her
the ball, which she flung before her.

The first thing the princess did on arriving at the mountain was to
stop her ears with cotton, and then, making up her mind which was the
best way to go, she began her ascent. In spite of the cotton, some
echoes of the voices reached her ears, but not so as to trouble her.
Indeed, though they grew louder and more insulting the higher she
climbed, the princess only laughed, and said to herself that she
certainly would not let a few rough words stand between her and the
goal. At last she perceived in the distance the cage and the bird,
whose voice joined itself in tones of thunder to those of the rest:
"Return, return! never dare to come near me."

At the sight of the bird, the princess hastened her steps, and without
vexing herself at the noise which by this time had grown deafening, she
walked straight up to the cage, and seizing it, she said: "Now, my
bird, I have got you, and I shall take good care that you do not
escape." As she spoke she took the cotton from her ears, for it was
needed no longer.

"Brave lady," answered the bird, "do not blame me for having joined my
voice to those who did their best to preserve my freedom. Although
confined in a cage, I was content with my lot, but if I must become a
slave, I could not wish for a nobler mistress than one who has shown so
much constancy, and from this moment I swear to serve you faithfully.
Some day you will put me to the proof, for I know who you are better
than you do yourself. Meanwhile, tell me what I can do, and I will
obey you."

"Bird," replied the princess, who was filled with a joy that seemed
strange to herself when she thought that the bird had cost her the
lives of both her brothers, "bird, let me first thank you for your good
will, and then let me ask you where the Golden Water is to be found."

The bird described the place, which was not far distant, and the
princess filled a small silver flask that she had brought with her for
the purpose. She then returned to the cage, and said: "Bird, there is
still something else, where shall I find the Singing Tree?"

"Behind you, in that wood," replied the bird, and the princess wandered
through the wood, till a sound of the sweetest voices told her she had
found what she sought. But the tree was tall and strong, and it was
hopeless to think of uprooting it.

"You need not do that," said the bird, when she had returned to ask
counsel. "Break off a twig, and plant it in your garden, and it will
take root, and grow into a magnificent tree."

When the Princess Parizade held in her hands the three wonders promised
her by the old woman, she said to the bird: "All that is not enough.
It was owing to you that my brothers became black stones. I cannot
tell them from the mass of others, but you must know, and point them
out to me, I beg you, for I wish to carry them away."

For some reason that the princess could not guess these words seemed to
displease the bird, and he did not answer. The princess waited a
moment, and then continued in severe tones, "Have you forgotten that
you yourself said that you are my slave to do my bidding, and also that
your life is in my power?"

"No, I have not forgotten," replied the bird, "but what you ask is very
difficult. However, I will do my best. If you look round," he went
on, "you will see a pitcher standing near. Take it, and, as you go
down the mountain, scatter a little of the water it contains over every
black stone and you will soon find your two brothers."

Princess Parizade took the pitcher, and, carrying with her besides the
cage the twig and the flask, returned down the mountain side. At every
black stone she stopped and sprinkled it with water, and as the water
touched it the stone instantly became a man. When she suddenly saw her
brothers before her her delight was mixed with astonishment.

"Why, what are you doing here?" she cried.

"We have been asleep," they said.

"Yes," returned the princess, "but without me your sleep would probably
have lasted till the day of judgment. Have you forgotten that you came
here in search of the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden
Water, and the black stones that were heaped up along the road? Look
round and see if there is one left. These gentlemen, and yourselves,
and all your horses were changed into these stones, and I have
delivered you by sprinkling you with the water from this pitcher. As I
could not return home without you, even though I had gained the prizes
on which I had set my heart, I forced the Talking Bird to tell me how
to break the spell."

On hearing these words Prince Bahman and Prince Perviz understood all
they owed their sister, and the knights who stood by declared
themselves her slaves and ready to carry out her wishes. But the
princess, while thanking them for their politeness, explained that she
wished for no company but that of her brothers, and that the rest were
free to go where they would.

So saying the princess mounted her horse, and, declining to allow even
Prince Bahman to carry the cage with the Talking Bird, she entrusted
him with the branch of the Singing Tree, while Prince Perviz took care
of the flask containing the Golden Water.

Then they rode away, followed by the knights and gentlemen, who begged
to be permitted to escort them.

It had been the intention of the party to stop and tell their
adventures to the dervish, but they found to their sorrow that he was
dead, whether from old age, or whether from the feeling that his task
was done, they never knew.

As they continued their road their numbers grew daily smaller, for the
knights turned off one by one to their own homes, and only the brothers
and sister finally drew up at the gate of the palace.

The princess carried the cage straight into the garden, and, as soon as
the bird began to sing, nightingales, larks, thrushes, finches, and all
sorts of other birds mingled their voices in chorus. The branch she
planted in a corner near the house, and in a few days it had grown into
a great tree. As for the Golden Water it was poured into a great
marble basin specially prepared for it, and it swelled and bubbled and
then shot up into the air in a fountain twenty feet high.

The fame of these wonders soon spread abroad, and people came from far
and near to see and admire.