like a bird sailing on outspread motionless wings, said:
“‘A roc! A roc!’
“When the object was nearer, a few of the villagers, in alarm, ran to their houses, shrieking:
“‘Israfil, Israfil! He is bringing the end of time!’
“Soon the sight was nearly overhead; then it was going by, its edge overhead, the rest of it extending eastwardly; and it was long and broad as a pasture for ten thousand camels, and horses ten thousand. It had no likeness earthly except a carpet of green silk; nor could those standing under describe what bore it along. They thought ‘they heard the sound of a strong wind, but as the air above far and near was full of birds great and small, birds of the water as well as the land, all flying evenly with the carpet, and making a canopy of their wings, and shade deeper than a cloud’s, the beholders were uncertain Whether the birds or the wind served it. In passing, it dipped gently, giving them a view of what it carried—a throne of pearl and rainbow, and a crowned King sitting in majesty; at his left hand, an army of spirits, at his right, an army of men in martial sheen.
“While the prodigy was before them, the spectators stirred not; nor was there one brave enough to speak; most of them with their eyes devoured it all, King and throne, birds, men and spirits; though afterwards there was asking:
“‘Did you see the birds?’
“‘No.’
“‘The spirits?’
“‘No.’
“‘The men?’
“‘I saw only the King upon His throne.’
“In the passing, also, a man, in splendor of apparel, stood on the carpet’s edge and shouted:
“‘God is great! I bear witness there is no God but God.’
“The same instant something fell from his hand. When the marvel was out of sight in the south, some bethought them, and went to see what it was which fell. They came back laughing, ‘It was only a gourd, and as we have much better on our camel-saddles, we threw it away.’
“But the mother of Hátim, listening to the report, was not content. In her childhood she heard what was tradition then; how Solomon, at the completion of his temple in Jerusalem, journeyed to Mecca upon a carpet of silk wafted by the wind, with men, spirits, and birds. Wherefore, saying to herself, ‘It was Solomon going to Mecca. Not for nothing threw he the gourd,’ she went alone, and brought it in, and opened it, finding three seeds—one red, like a ruby; a second blue, like a sapphire; the third green, like an emerald.
“Now she might have sold the seeds, for they were beautiful as gems cut for a crown, and enriched herself; but Hátim was all the world to her. They were for him, she said, and getting a brown nut such as washes up from vines in the sea, she cut it, put the treasures into it, sealed them there, and tied them around the boy’s neck.
“‘Thanks, O Solomon,’ she said. ‘There is no God but God; and I shall teach the lesson to my Hátim in the morning, when, al hudhud flies for water; at noon, when it whistles to itself in the shade; and at night, when it draws a wing over its head to darken the darkness, and sleep.”
“And from that day through all his days Hátim wore the brown nut with the three seeds in it; nor was there ever such an amulet before or since; for, besides being defended by the genii who are Solomon’s servants, he grew one of the exemplars promised by God, having in himself every virtue. No one braver than he; none so charitable; none so generous and merciful; none so eloquent; none on whose lips poetry was such sweet speech for the exalting of souls; above all, never had there been such a keeper of his word of promise.
“And of this judge you by some of the many things they tell of him.
“A famine fell upon the land. It was when Hátim had become Sheik of his tribe. The women and children were perishing. The men could no more than witness their suffering. They knew not whom to accuse; they knew no one to receive a prayer. The time predicted was come—the name of God had gone out utterly, like the green of last year’s leaf. In the Sheik’s tent even, as with the poorest, hunger could not be allayed— there was nothing to eat. The last camel had been devoured—one horse remained. More than once the good man went out to kill him, but the animal was so beautiful—so affectionate—so fleet! And the desert was not wide enough to hold his fame! How much easier to say, ‘Another day—to-morrow it may rain.’
“He sat in his tent telling his wife and children stories, for he was not merely the best warrior of his day; he was the most renowned poet and storyteller. Riding into battle, his men would say, ‘Sing to us, O Hátim—sing, and we will fight.’ And they he loved best, listening to him, had nigh forgot their misery, when the curtain of the tent was raised.
“‘Who is there?’ he asked.
“‘Thy neighbor,’ and the voice was a woman’s. ‘My children are an hungred and crying, and I have nothing for them. Help, O Sheik, help or they die.’
“‘Bring them here,’ he said, rising.
“‘She is not worse off than we,’ said his wife, ‘nor are her children more hungry than ours. What will you do?’
“‘The appeal was to me,’ he answered.
“And passing out, he slew the horse, and kindled a fire; then, while the stranger and her children were sharing piece by piece with his own, ‘Shame, shame!’ he said, ‘that ye alone should eat;’ and going through the dowar, he brought the neighbors together, and he only went hungry. There was no more of the meat left.
“Was ever one merciful like Hátim? In combat, he gave lives, but took none. Once an antagonist under his foot, called to him: ‘Give me thy spear, Hátim,’ and he gave it.
“‘Foolish man!’ his brethren, exclaimed.
“‘What else was there?’ he answered. ‘Did not the poor man ask a gift of me?’
“Never a captive besought his help vainly. On a journey once, a prisoner begged him to buy his liberty; but he was without the money required, and on that account he was sorely distressed. To his entreaties, the strangers listened hard-heartedly; at last he said to them:
“Am not I—Hátim—good as he? Let him go, and take me.’
“And knocking the chains from the unfortunate, he had them put on himself, and wore them until the ransom came.
“In his eyes a poet was greater than a king, and than singing a song well the only thing better was being the subject of a song. Perpetuation by tombs he thought vulgar; so the glory unremembered in verse deserved oblivion. Was it wonderful he gave and kept giving to story-tellers, careless often if what he thus disposed of was another’s?
“Once in his youth—and at hearing this, O Princess, the brown-faced sons of the desert, old and young, laugh, and clap their hands—he gave of his grandfather’s store until the prudent old man, intending to cure him of his extravagance, sent him to tend his herds in the country. Alas!
“Across the plain Hátim one day beheld a caravan, and finding it escorting three poets to the court of the King of El-Herah, he invited them to stop with him and while he killed a camel for each of them, they recited songs in his praise,
