army into battle order. And behold! when again the two opposing forces
were met in conflict, the day belonged unto Iran.

Then Afrasiab, hearing of the arrival of Rustem, immediately called unto
his aid three distinguished champions: Shinkul, Khakan, and Kamus. Now
all these warriors had wondrous records—Kamus particularly:

           “For when he frowned, the air grew freezing cold;
           And when he smiled, the genial spring smiled down
           Roses and hyacinths, and all was brightness!”

Now upon the arrival of the three champions, it was to the great Kamus
that Piran first paid his respects, describing unto him, in glowing
colors, the strength and prowess of Rustem. But Kamus, in nowise
disturbed, replied coolly unto Piran:

                 “Is praise like this to Rustem due?
                 And what if all thou sayest be true?
                 Are his large limbs of iron made?
                 Will they resist my trenchant blade?
                 His head may now his shoulders grace,
                 But will it long retain its place?
                 Let me but meet him in the fight,
                 And thou shalt see Kamus’s might!”

But alas! when Kamus the confident challenged Rustem, quickly the Hero
despatched him. Yea, and not only him, but Shinkul and Khakan as well.
Then was Afrasiab terrified, and quickly he sent Piran-Wisa forth to sue
for peace. And Rustem spake graciously unto the old general, giving unto
him greeting from KaiKhosrau, and lauding him for his good deeds unto
Siawush, and unto Sohrab, his son. And he said:

[Illustration: He discovered the magician deeply engaged in incantation
and witchcraft.]

“O Grand Old Hero, truly thou art worthy a better master than
black-hearted Afrasiab. Come over unto Iran, therefore, and thou shalt
have honor, and happiness, and riches while thou livest, for nightly
KaiKhosrau and his mother behold thy face in their dreams, and much they
long to see thee.”

But Piran, with tears in his eyes, said unto Rustem:

“O Hero of Heroes! For five hundred years have I served Turan, my native
land, and though my heart goeth out unto KaiKhosrau, my son, yet can I
not prove unfaithful unto those who rely upon my good faith. So did not
brave Siawush; and Turan, too, hath her heroes, O Mighty One, even as
Iran the land of light.”

Now Rustem’s heart went out in admiration unto this splendid old hero,
and he said:

“O noble Pehliva! verily I give thee honor for thy loyalty and faith,
even while I grieve that Iran cannot possess thee. As for the terms of
peace, KaiKhosrau desireth naught but that the murderers of Siawush be
delivered into his hands.”

Then Piran said sadly unto Rustem:

“O gracious Pehliva, that which thou asketh, verily it can never be. For
the slayers of Siawush are near kinsfolk unto Afrasiab, who will never
give them up.”

So, as naught could be done, the Heroes parted sadly, but in friendship,
even though they knew that battle must rage between them. And behold!
once more the opposing forces were drawn up for conflict.

               “Now ’twas mid-day when the strife began,
               With steed to steed and man to man;
               And clouds of dust that rolled on high,
               Threw darkness o’er the earth and sky.
               Each soldier on the other rushed,
               And every blade with crimson blushed,
               And valiant hearts were trod upon,
                 Like sand beneath the horse’s feet.
               And when the warrior’s life was gone,
                 His mail became his winding sheet.”

And alas! for forty days the battle raged thus, until the plains were so
strewn with the bodies of the slain that an ant could not have found a
road to pass between them. Now blood flowed upon all sides, and heads
without bodies, and bodies without heads, covered the ground. For
neither the claws of the leopard nor the trunk of the elephant, neither
the high mountains nor the waters of the earth, could prevail against
Rustem when he fought at the head of his hosts.

Now he slew the mightiest of the Tartars, and only good old Piran was he
mindful to spare; yea, and when the remnant of the host finally fled
before his wrath, he pursued them even unto the mountains, where
Afrasiab and his kinsfolk, in their terror, had hidden themselves, and
he destroyed his courts utterly with fire, after which he turned him
back unto Iran. Then the heart of KaiKhosrau rejoiced like unto a
paradise, and for a month Rustem abode in his presence, feasted and
lauded continually, after which he returned once more unto Seistan.

                   “And now we come to Akwan Dew,
                   Whom Rustem next in combat slew.”

For it is related that one day shortly after Rustem’s return unto
Seistan, as KaiKhosrau was sitting in his beautiful garden abounding in
roses and the balmy luxuriance of spring, surrounded by his heroes, and
enjoying the pleasures of the banquet, lo, a shepherd came unto the
Court demanding audience, and when it was granted he said:

“O King of Kings! Behold, a wild ass is broken in among my horses, and
he doeth great mischief, for his ferocity is that of a lion or a demon.
Send forth, therefore, I entreat thee, one of thy heroes that he may
slay him, else am I ruined.”

Now the Shah knew right well that this was no wild ass, but the evil
Deev, Akwan Dew, who had taken upon him this disguise. And knowing that
none but Rustem would be equal to this adventure, a swift messenger was
at once sent unto Seistan to summon him forth. And the Mighty One obeyed
the voice of the Shah, for he was weary of inactivity, and this promised
to be an exciting adventure.

So presently, guided by the shepherds, Rustem set forth, but it was not
until the fourth day of his search that he fell in with the Deev. Now
being anxious to take this wicked one alive in order to send him as a
trophy unto KaiKhosrau, the Hero tried to throw his cord about him. But
behold! in a moment the wild ass vanished under his hand. Whereupon,
Rustem knew that it was really Akwan Dew with whom he had to deal, and
that he must fight against the powers of magic. Yet was he not dismayed.

And now, the wild ass again appearing, lo, Rustem pursued him with his
drawn sword. When he would have run him through, however, behold! the
weapon cut naught but the empty air, for again the Deev had vanished
under his hands. Then, disappointed with his sword, the Hero tried both
spear and arrow, but still to no purpose, for again and yet again the
wicked one escaped his blows by vanishing. And alas! thus for three days
and nights Rustem fought, as it were, against a shadow. Wearied at last,
with his fruitless exertions, however, presently he dismounted, and
leading Rakush unto a green spot near a limpid fountain, he allowed him
to graze, while he himself went to sleep.

But lo! when the Deev saw that Rustem slept, he rushed toward him like a
whirlwind, and, rapidly digging up the ground on every side, took up the
plot of ground and the Champion together, placed them upon his head, and
deliberately walked away with them. Howbeit, at this critical moment
Rakush, beholding the peril of his master, neighed loudly, thus awaking
Rustem. And lo! when the Hero saw what had befallen, he feared his hour
was come, yet he did not despair. The Deev, however, seeing that his
captive was awake, said unto him:

                 “Warrior! now no longer free!
                 Tell me what thy wish may be;
                 Shall I plunge thee in the sea,
                   Or leave thee on the mountain drear,
                   None to give thee succor near?
                 Tell thy wish to me!”

Now Rustem, knowing that the Deevs act ever by the rule of contraries,
and realizing that if thrown into the sea his chance for escape would be
better, quickly said unto the Deev:

            “O, plunge me not in the roaring sea,
            The maw of a fish is no home for me;
            But cast me forth on the mountain; there
            Is the lion’s haunt and the tiger’s lair;
            And for them I shall be a morsel of food,
            They will eat my flesh and drink my blood;
            But my bones will be left to show the place
            Where this form was devoured by the feline race;
            Yes, something will then remain of me,
            Whilst nothing escapes from the roaring sea!”

Thus spake Rustem in his guile, and well for him was it that his mind
was so fertile in invention. For behold! the wicked Akwan Dew, having
learned the particular desire of the Hero, quickly raised him up with
his hands and flung him from his lofty height headlong into the deep and
roaring ocean, at a spot where hungry crocodiles would devour him.

And alas! scarcely had the Champion touched the water, when one of these
horrible creatures speedily darted upon him with the eager intention of
devouring him alive. But in the twinkling of an eye Rustem drew his
sword and severed the monster’s head. Then quickly another came, and was
put to death in the same manner, and the water was crimsoned with blood.
And while the Hero fought the crocodiles with his right hand, with his
left he swam toward the shore, and though long was the struggle and
sore, yet finally, when night was fallen, he at last succeeded in
putting his foot upon the dry land. Then, when he had given thanks unto
Ormuzd, and rested him, he returned unto the spot by the fountain.

But here a most unpleasant surprise awaited him, for Rakush, his steed,
was not there. Then fear fell upon Rustem, and eagerly he wandered about
seeking his matchless charger; but in vain, until at last, coming unto a
green meadow, he spied him among the horses of Afrasiab. For alas! while
the Champion was fighting the crocodiles and the mighty surges of the
ocean, the keepers had succeeded in ensnaring Rakush.

When the mighty war-horse heard the soft whistle of his master, however,
he neighed joyously, and brake from the keepers, running with swift foot
unto Rustem, rubbing his nose gently against his shoulder, as if to make
sure it was really he. But no sooner had the Hero mounted, than horse
and rider of one accord made a swift dash for the keepers, right
speedily running them down, and despatching them. Then Rustem took the
herds, together with four white elephants, unto himself.

But presently, as the Hero tarried in the midst of the herds, Afrasiab
whose heart yearned to look upon his favorite steeds, came forth from
his hiding-place, dreaming not that his enemy was near. When he beheld
Rustem, therefore, he was dismayed, for he thought that the Champion had
discovered his hiding-place and was come forth to take him. So, quickly
he offered battle unto the Pehliva, supported by those who were with
him. But alas for Afrasiab! for again Rustem fought with such might that
he quickly overcame the whole force, slaying sixty with his sword and
forty with his mace. Then the King, terrified, fled swiftly and silently
away unto a new hiding-place, lamenting anew his bitter fate.

Now Rustem longed to pursue Afrasiab, but at this moment Akwan Dew came
forth once more, thinking that after such a strenuous fight the Hero
would fall an easy prey into his hands. But Rustem, springing quickly
upon him, struck such a mighty blow with his sword that lo! the Deev’s
head rolled off, before that he could vanish by magic, as before. Then
triumphantly Rustem returned unto the Court, bearing with him, as
trophies of his adventure, Afrasiab’s favorite steeds, and the hideous
head of the wicked Akwan Dew, who would trouble the world no more with
his wickedness and tricks of sorcery.

So ended Rustem’s adventure with the Deev, but behold! another was soon
to follow, and this was nothing less than his conflict with the Champion
Barzu. Yea, and almost was this the Hero’s last combat—so mighty was the
prowess of this giant, especially trained by Afrasiab to cause the world
to become dark unto Rustem.

Now when KaiKhosrau learned that Afrasiab had put into the field against
him ten thousand experienced horsemen, under Barzu, his mighty champion,
he was amazed; for he had not dreamed that so soon after his
overwhelming defeat he could place another large army in commission.
However, he ordered Tus and Friburz, with twelve thousand horsemen, to
go forth at once, while he prepared to follow later with a still larger
force. Yea, and he sent for Rustem also, for this time he hoped to
exterminate utterly, not only Afrasiab, but all his kin.

But alas! before KaiKhosrau arrived at the front Barzu and Tus had
engaged in a terrible battle, which resulted in a glorious victory for
the men of Turan. Yea, and worse! for so terrible was the might of
Barzu, that in the end, all the Persians fled, leaving Tus and Friburz
to fall into the hands of the Tartars. Quickly, however, Rustem hastened
to the rescue of the two heroes, taking with him Gustahem, the brother
of Tus.

Now the two warriors stole softly into the enemy’s camp, and by chance
they came unto the tent of the King, wherein they found what they
sought. For behold! Afrasiab was seated upon his throne, with Barzu upon
his right hand, and Piran-Wisa upon his left, while Tus and Friburz
stood in chains before them. And, listening, the two warriors heard the
King say unto the captive Princes:

“Sleep well, O Persian Dogs! for to-morrow shall ye behold the sun rise
for the last time, since ye are sentenced to die the death of Siawush.”

Thus spake black-hearted Afrasiab, and departed, leaving the prisoners
in the hands of the guards. Then Rustem, requesting Gustahem to follow
cautiously, drew near and waited until the watchmen were off their
guard. Then silently they overpowered and killed them, stealing softly
away with their prisoners, without being discovered, and behold! great
was the rejoicing when they were come safely unto the Persian camp.

But alas! when Afrasiab learned that Rustem had stolen into his camp and
liberated the prisoners, he fairly writhed with anger and mortification.
And at once he sent forth Barzu to challenge Rustem to single combat.

So the Champion of the World went forth, and behold, Barzu was his equal
in size, and apparently also in strength and skill. For though they
fought long, first with one weapon, then with another, Rustem prevailed
not. Then they tried wrestling, and terrible were the wrenches and
grasps they gave and received, but Barzu, noting that this also was
vain, once more grasped his mace, and, raising it high, struck Rustem
such a blow upon the head that the Champion thought a whole mountain had
fallen upon him. But, though one arm was completely disabled, no sign
thereof did Rustem give—to the great amazement of Barzu, who cried:

“Truly, thou art a most surprising warrior, and seemingly invulnerable.
Now if I had struck such a blow upon a mountain, quickly would it have
been broken into a thousand fragments; and yet upon thee it seemeth no
more than the prick of a flea.”

Yea, and he said unto himself, shaking his head thoughtfully:

“Heaven forbid that I should ever receive so bewildering a blow upon my
own head!”

But Rustem, having successfully concealed the anguish of his wound, now
artfully suggested that, as it was late, perhaps it would be better to
finish the combat on the following day, to which Barzu readily agreed,
as he, too, was exhausted by the long struggle. So the two champions
retired, and Rustem, showing his lacerated arm unto the Shah, said:

“O Glorious One! Behold, I have escaped from yon raging dragon, but I
bring back with me the marks of his teeth. And now, alas! who will
finish the struggle on the morrow?”

But behold! though Rustem spent a night of pain and grief, morning
brought unto him glad news, for Feramurz, his glorious son, arrived
unexpectedly in camp.

So, a few hours later, when both armies were drawn up, and Barzu, like a
mad elephant, rode forward to resume the combat, he was met, apparently,
by his old antagonist. For lo! Rustem had attired Feramurz in his own
armor, supplied him with his own weapons, and mounted him upon Rakush,
telling him to represent himself unto Barzu as the warrior who had
engaged him the day before.

Now as Feramurz rode forward he shot an arrow at Barzu, crying:

“O Youthful Giant! Behold thine adversary come forth once more to try
thy strength. Advance, therefore, and beware!”

But Barzu, amazed at such lightness of spirit, cried:

“O Mighty One! Why this hilarity? Art thou, then, so reckless of thy
life?”

And Feramurz, laughing, said:

“Knowest thou not, O Sober One, that the field of fight is, unto the
warrior, the mansion of pleasure? Wherefore, then, should I not be gay?”

But Barzu, who began to suspect that he had to do with a new antagonist,
said tauntingly:

“O Light O’ Heart! Is the champion whom I encountered yesterday perhaps
wounded or dead, that thou hast attired thyself in his mail and mounted
his charger?”

Now to this challenge Feramurz replied still gayly:

“Perhaps thou hast lost thy wits, O Giant, since thou knowest not thy
adversary. Now almost I extinguished thee yesterday, and to-day I mean
to finish thee; so once more I say unto thee, beware!”

Thus saying, Feramurz rushed valiantly upon his adversary, struck him
blow upon blow with his battle-axe, and drawing his noose from the
saddle-strap, with the quickness of lightning he secured his prize. Then
might he speedily have put an end to Barzu’s existence, but he preferred
taking him alive to exhibit unto the army.

But not without a struggle was Feramurz to carry off his prize, for
Afrasiab, seeing the perilous condition of his Champion, quickly pressed
forward his whole army to the rescue. But KaiKhosrau and Rustem, equally
on the alert, quickly supported Feramurz—Rustem throwing another noose
around the already captured Barzu, to prevent the possibility of his
escape. And now, so great was the grief of Afrasiab for the loss of
Barzu, that he immediately retreated across the Jihun, quitting Persia
with all his troops.

As for Barzu, beholding in the youthful giant great possibilities,
Rustem begged KaiKhosrau that his life might be spared, and carried him
back with him unto Seistan. Yea, and here he assisted Rustem greatly in
his next adventure, which was with Susen, a wicked sorceress, as you
shall hear.

For behold! shortly after his return unto Seistan, Rustem invited unto
his courts a large number of the most celebrated heroes of the kingdom,
since he proposed to give a most magnificent banquet. But alas that it
must be recorded! before the feast had even begun, some of the heroes
fell out—as even heroes will—and dire were the consequences.

For you must know that among the honored guests were Tus and Gudarz, who
were ever hostile unto each other, and, sad to relate, shortly after
their arrival at Seistan, as usual, a dispute took place between
them—this time it being a question of precedence. As a consequence,
therefore, Tus, who ever boasted of his ancestry, reviled Gudarz in his
anger, saying unto the old warrior:

“Old Man! How canst thou put thyself upon a footing with me? For verily
I am the son of Nuder, and the grandson of Feridoun, whilst thou art but
the son of Kavah the smith.”

Now this naturally angered Gudarz, who replied unto Tus:

“Vain Boaster, though thy ancestors were wise and mighty, greatly I fear
that their robe of merit reacheth not unto thee. As for the ancestry of
Gudarz, hear me this once, then put a chain upon the door of thy lips
forever. For think you I need blush to be the kinsman of the glorious
Kavah? Verily, nay; rather, I glory in him. For was he not the man who,
when the world could boast of little valor, tore wrathfully up the
infamous name-roll of Zohak, giving unto the Persians freedom from the
fangs of the devouring serpents? Was it not he, I say, who raised the
first banner, proclaiming aloud freedom for Iran? Verily unto Kavah the
empire oweth its greatest blessing, so well may Gudarz glory to be his
son!”

Unto this, however, Tus, beside himself with wrath, rejoined:

“Old Man, thine arrow may pierce an anvil, but mine can pierce the heart
of the Kaf mountain!”

But Gudarz, smiling, softly said:

“Verily, if words were deeds, then would the Mighty Tus rival his
glorious ancestors!”

And alas! this so aroused the anger of Tus, that swiftly he drew forth
his dagger to punish the offender. But Rehham interfered in behalf of
Gudarz, which so increased the rage of Tus that in high dudgeon the Hero
retired from the company and set out upon his return unto Iran.

Now Rustem was not present when the dispute took place, but when he
heard of it he was displeased saying that Gudarz was a relation of the
family, and Tus his guest, and therefore wrong had been done, since a
guest ought always to be honored. And he said:

“Verily a guest should be held as sacred as a king, and it is ever the
custom of heroes to treat a guest as the king of the feast.”

And having thus spoken, Rustem requested Gudarz to go after Tus, and by
fair words and proper excuses bring him back unto the festal board. So
Gudarz departed, but scarcely was he gone when Gew rose up and said:

“Tus, in his anger is little better than a madman, and my father also
hath a hasty temper where he is concerned. I should like, therefore, O
Mighty One, to follow after them to prevent further disagreement.”

So, consent being given by Rustem, behold, Gew went forth taking with
him Byzun, who was also anxious to go. But when the three heroes had
departed, lo, Rustem became apprehensive, so he sent Feramurz forth also
to preserve the peace. Then finally Zal, fearing that Tus might not be
easily prevailed upon to return, either by Gudarz, Gew, Byzun, or
Feramurz, resolved to go forth himself to soothe the temper so unwisely
ruffled at the banquet.

Now it happened that Tus was obliged, on his return journey, to pass by
the abode of Susen the sorceress. And alas! though he suspected it not,
this was a trap which Afrasiab had set to ensnare the heroes of
Iran—particularly Rustem, whom the King greatly desired to secure, and
whom the sorceress had promised to destroy, together with his whole
family. For she said unto the King:

                  “Fighting disappointment brings,
                  Sword and mace are useless things;
                  If thou wouldst a conqueror be,
                  Monarch! put thy trust in me;
                  Soon the mighty chief shall bleed,—
                  Spells and charms will do the deed!”

So, the snare being set, lo, as Tus approached this enchanted abode, he
beheld cooks and confectioners on all sides, preparing many and rare
dishes of food, together with every species of sweetmeat. And alas!
disappointed of Rustem’s banquet, also hungry and curious, Tus
dismounted and, leaving his horse with an attendant, entered the great
dining-hall, where he was met by the charming sorceress herself, who,
escorting him unto a table bounteously supplied with charmed viands, and
goblets of rich wine, spake unto him gay words, waiting upon him with
her own fair hands.

But behold! after Tus had eaten a few mouthfuls, he began to feel very
strange, and presently, his armor bursting asunder, he gazed in horror
at himself, for he perceived sharp quills sticking out from his body in
all directions, and happening to glance in a mirror, he beheld, not Tus,
the descendant of Kings, but a great, ugly wild boar. And lo! as he
would have cried out in his dismay, he could do naught but grunt. Then
the enchantress, laughing wickedly, drove him out into a yard, from
which there was no escape, and prepared for her next victim.

And as it happened unto Tus, so chanced it with all the heroes sent
after him, save only White-haired Zal—him could they not entice, for he
would neither enter the enchanted dwelling, nor taste of the charmed
food and wine. For lo! Serosch the Blessed had whispered into his ear
that the howling wild boars in the yard were the heroes who had preceded
him.

And when Zal realized what had befallen, quickly he sent word unto
Rustem. Then, single-handed, he attacked the sorceress, who, perceiving
that she was discovered, quickly fled into the strong-room of the
palace, securely bolting the door. But tirelessly Zal battered the iron
until it could resist his blows no more, whereupon, out rushed a mighty
Deev, who at once began a furious battle with Zal, in which he was
nearly victorious. But fortunately Feramurz, who had been delayed by the
way, now came up, and bidding the venerable Zal stand aside, he took his
place, fighting fiercely with the wicked one until Rustem and Barzu
arrived upon the scene.

And behold! learning what had happened, Rustem was struck with horror,
for seldom was an enchanter so bold as to change the form of his victim.
Leaving giant Barzu to combat with the Deev, therefore, in spite of the
forces of magic that opposed him, Rustem succeeded in piercing unto the
innermost hiding-place of the sorceress, and though again and again she
changed her shape in her efforts to escape, he dragged her pitilessly
forth into the yard where the heroes, in the shape of wild boars, were
making the night hideous with their howls and growls. And here the
Champion said unto his victim:

“O Wicked One, quickly restore these heroes unto their proper shape,
else shall my life-destroying sword quickly make an end of thee, even as
happened unto Akwan Dew.”

Now the sorceress, beholding herself in the power of Deev-destroying
Rustem, quickly restored the heroes unto themselves. But alas for Susen!
for so thankful were her victims to escape from her power, that
instinctively they exclaimed with one accord: “Thank God!” at which the
wicked sorceress at once vanished from both sight and hearing.

Then quickly Rustem returned unto Barzu, but he also had vanquished his
foe, though the Deev had evaded the stroke of his sword many times by
vanishing. So, the wicked ones being both destroyed, Rustem set fire
unto the enchanted mansion, after which the heroes all rode back unto
Seistan, where they feasted gaily for a whole week.

And behold! from this time forth, Tus and Gudarz disputed no more, for
when they were tempted, they quickly remembered those dreadful hours
spent as snapping, snarling beasts, and so they refrained, realizing
that such conduct was unworthy of heroes.

After this it came to pass that yet again Afrasiab raised a mighty army
to go forth in vengeance against Iran, and behold! this time their
progress was stayed by Gudarz the wise, who, at the head of the heroes
of Iran, disputed their advance. Now the contest waged was long and
bitter, and the slaughter fearful, for not only did the two great hosts
fight _en masse_, but after this, lo, the flower of the armies met, one
couple after the other, in single combat. And alas! in this mighty
hero-contest, brave Piran-Wisa met a glorious death.

Then, in his anger and despair at brave Piran’s loss, Afrasiab sent
forth his dearly-loved son Scheideh, bidding him challenge the Shah of
Iran to combat and utterly to lay him low. But behold! Rustem answered
the summons, and soon the son of the King lay lifeless upon the plain.
Yea, and now the Champion routed the army of Turan utterly, and once
more the King was forced to become a wanderer, together with his few
remaining kinsfolk.

But not long did Afrasiab escape the hands of justice. For presently
Hum, a hermit of the race of Feridoun, discovered and brought the
wretched monarch unto KaiKhosrau, who caused both the King and wicked
Gersiwaz to perish even as they had caused death to come upon Siawush
the Prince.

And now a strange thing happened in Iran. For KaiKhosrau, fearing to
become uplifted in pride like unto Jemshid, because that all the people
loved and praised him, determined, after much prayer unto Ormuzd, to
quit the world before this evil should come to pass. And alas! though
Zal and Rustem came purposely up from Seistan to try to influence
KaiKhosrau against this strange determination, yet was it vain.

So, after having appointed Lohurasp as his successor, and arranged all
things for his departure, KaiKhosrau got him upon his horse to go forth
unto the mountains. And behold! there went with him Zal and Rustem,
Gudarz also, and Gustahem and Gew, Byzun the Valiant, Friburz, the son
of Kaikous, and Tus the Pehliva.

Now these heroes followed after KaiKhosrau from the plain even unto the
crest of the mountains, and they ceased not from mourning that which was
done of their King, striving to change his purpose. But KaiKhosrau, at
peace with himself and the world, gave not ear unto their supplications.

So disconsolately the little company followed the King, who was guided
in his path by a flock of wondrous pheasants, until they were come unto
a place where there seemed to be no farther path. Then KaiKhosrau said
unto the heroes:

“O my Pehliva, here must we part, for almost have I reached the fountain
shown unto me by the Angel of God; and from here on I enter upon a path
where there is neither herb nor water. Return, therefore, upon the road
that ye have come, for lo! my hour is at hand.”

So Zal and Rustem and Gudarz bade KaiKhosrau a tender farewell, and with
tear-blinded eyes returned unto the plain, lamenting that one upon whom
Heaven had bestowed a mind so great, and a heart so brave, could not
await his hour in patience.

But alas! Gew, and Tus, and Byzun, and Friburz, being unwilling to go
back, followed after the King yet another day. But so rough was the way
that their strength was spent when evening was come. However, KaiKhosrau
cheered them, and soon were they come unto the Fountain of Rest. And
now, once again, the Shah bade that his heroes leave him, saying:

“O Valiant Ones! Return quickly upon your path when I am gone, neither
linger in this place, though it should rain diamonds and pearls, musk
and amber. For presently, out of the mountains a mighty storm will
arise, and there will come a fall of snow, which shall prove the
winding-sheet of all who linger. Farewell, then, O my Brave Heroes, and
forget not to give heed unto my words of warning.”

Now, so speaking, KaiKhosrau stepped into the fountain, immediately
vanishing.

              “And not a trace was left behind,
                And not a dimple on the wave;
              All sought, but sought in vain, to find
                The spot which proved KaiKhosrau’s grave!”

And alas for his brave heroes! For in their grief and weariness,
heedlessly they laid themselves down by the fountain to sleep, and
presently, even as predicted by the vanished King, a mighty wind arose,
and the snow fell thick and soft, awakening not the tired ones who
slumbered so fatally beside the Pool of Rest. Yea, and their sleep was
long, for when, many days after, Zal and Rustem went forth to seek the
missing ones, behold, they found them slumbering still, covered o’er by
soft, white blankets of snow. But alas! so complete was the passing of
KaiKhosrau that his body they found not, though they dragged the fatal
fountain in their search. Sorrowfully, however, they bare the
snow-covered heroes back unto the plain, amidst the wailing of the whole
army. And well might they weep, for thus perished the flower of the
heroes of Iran, and thus also ended the old régime, so glorious in its
record of brave deeds.

                ISFENDIYAR’S SEVEN LABORS, OR HEFT-KHAN

            “Rustem had seven great labors, wondrous power
            Nerved his strong arm in danger’s needful hour;
            And now Firdusi’s legend strains declare
            The seven great labors of Isfendiyar.”

Now of all the heroes of Persia, none so nearly rivalled Rustem as the
brave Isfendiyar, son of Gushtasp the Shah. Young, valiant, and
possessed of great ability and promise, his father gave unto him the
command of his armies, promising unto him the throne of Iran, if he
should conquer Arjasp the demon king, who threatened to bring the
Persians beneath his yoke. Now thus it is that we hear of Isfendiyar
first. And short work, indeed, did he make of his campaign with the
Deevs, for though so fierce was the fight that the heroes closed not
their eyes in slumber, neither ceased from conflict for the space of
twice seven days, yet in the end did the valor and might of Isfendiyar
prevail, and Arjasp was forced to flee before the face of the valorous
youth and his brave warriors.

So, having won this glorious victory, joyously Isfendiyar returned unto
his father, craving his blessing. But Gushtasp said:

“O my brave son, truly thy deeds have been glorious, but before thou
mountest the throne of thy father I must send thee forth yet again, that
thou mayest win the whole world unto Zerdusht, the Great Prophet, for so
will thy reign be blessed.”

So again Isfendiyar went forth as warrior-crusader, and lo! he travelled
not only through all the provinces of Persia, but even unto foreign
lands. And, so successful was he that—

                 “Where’er he went he was received
                 With welcome, all the world believed,
                 And all with grateful feelings took
                 The Holy Zendavesta-book,
                 Proud their new worship to declare,
                 The worship of Isfendiyar.”

And now, having won the world unto Zerdusht, the young crusader again
returned unto his father. But alas! one who hated Isfendiyar because of
his valor and triumphs had succeeded in poisoning the mind of Gushtasp
against his son, telling him that Isfendiyar, being ambitious, was
plotting the overthrow of his father. So it came to pass that when the
Hero presented himself before his sire, Gushtasp greeted him not, but,
turning unto his courtiers, said:

“O Nobles of Iran! What think you should be done with that son who in
the lifetime of his father usurps his authority and meditates his
death?”

Then with one accord the nobles answered, saying: “O Lord of the World,

                    “Such a son should either be
                    Broken on the felon-tree,
                    Or in prison bound with chains,
                    Whilst his wicked life remains,
                    Else thyself, thy kingdom, all
                    Will be ruined by his thrall.”

Alas! when Gushtasp heard the words of his nobles, quickly he turned him
unto his guards, saying:

“Verily, Isfendiyar is such a son. Bind him, therefore, and let him be
buried from my sight in the deepest dungeon of the palace.”

So, in spite of the remonstrances and pleadings of many who loved and
grieved for the injustice done unto their Prince, behold, he was
imprisoned in a dreary dungeon, where chains of weight were hung upon
him. Yea, and thus was he shut away from the glad sunshine of the world
for many long years. And alas! the iron entered into his soul as well as
into his body, for he remembered that, though innocent himself, his
father had done unto Lohurasp, his sire, even as he had accused him; yet
was he free and exalted.

But retribution was at hand. For, when Arjasp, the demon king, learned
that Isfendiyar was fettered, and that Gushtasp was given over unto
pleasure, behold, he gathered together a great army, and in a moment
when he knew the kingdom to be unguarded, and unprepared for resistance,
suddenly he fell upon Iran’s capital, putting to death Lohurasp, the
aged Shah, and taking captive the two fair daughters of Gushtasp. Yea,
and he also threw fire into the temple of Zerdusht, causing much
destruction and loss of life.

Now at this time Gushtasp was at Seistan, enjoying a hunting trip with
Rustem; and thither hastened a messenger to inform the Shah of the great
disaster that had befallen. So quickly Gushtasp called together his
army, putting himself at its head, but in the first engagement Arjasp
routed him utterly. Overwhelmed with dismay, therefore, the Shah quickly
called together his counsellors, for he knew not what to do in the sore
straits so suddenly come upon him. But neither did his nobles, and for a
time their hearts were filled with despair. Then one, wise above the
others, said:

“O King of Kings! Verily, Isfendiyar alone can deliver Iran from the woe
which threateneth. I counsel thee, therefore, release him, for he alone
can conquer this Demon King.”

Then Gushtasp, remembering how the Prince had conquered Arjasp before,
took heart, saying:

“Verily, if Isfendiyar shall succeed in delivering us from this foe,
then I call ye all to witness that my oath is given to abandon unto him
the throne and crown.”

So right speedily the Shah sent messengers unto Isfendiyar, that they
should unbind his chains, and with them he sent a letter, begging
forgiveness for his cruelty, and promising that his enemies should be
put to death in his presence; yea, and that surely the crown should be
his when he again overcame Arjasp.

But too long had Isfendiyar languished in prison to be easily moved by
his father’s tardy, though opportune, repentance. So he said:

“Wherefore should I weary myself in my father’s cause? Verily, I might
have rotted in my prison, forgotten of my sire, had not his enemies
forced him to remember that perchance the valiant Isfendiyar yet lived.”

Then the nobles, seeing that appeal on his father’s account was useless,
said unto him:

“Verily, O Prince, thy father hath treated thee ill, but perhaps thou
knowest not that thy two fair sisters are in bonds unto Arjasp? Surely
it behooveth thee to deliver them from their living death!”

Now when Isfendiyar heard this dire news, at once he sprang to his feet,
commanding that his chains be struck from off his limbs, and as the men
were slow, behold, he stretched himself mightily, thus bursting his
chains so that they fell clanking at his feet. Then he made haste to go
before his father, for he thirsted to be revenged for the indignity done
unto his sisters.

So, peace being made between Isfendiyar and his sire, soon there rallied
about the Prince a great multitude that tarried not, but went forth like
a mighty whirlwind. And behold! so great was their force and fury that
naught could stand before them; nay, not even the great Arjasp, who fled
before the face of Isfendiyar in terror of his life. For never had he
seen such fury in battle, though he had fought with many heroes.

And behold! the enemy being once more vanquished, Isfendiyar returned
unto his father, craving the fulfilment of his vow. But Gushtasp, when
he beheld himself freed from danger, repented him of his promise, for he
had no desire to give the reins of government unto another. Therefore he
spake angrily unto Isfendiyar, saying:

“Verily, my son, I marvel that while thy sisters languish in the bondage
of Arjasp thou canst consider thyself victorious! Now it hath been
revealed unto me that they are hidden in Arjasp’s brazen fortress, and
that the great chief and all his demon warriors are gone in behind its
walls. I say unto thee, therefore, storm this terrible fortress and
deliver thy sisters who pine. Then, when thou returnest them safe unto
my arms, by Ormuzd the Blessed, I swear that thy name shall be exalted
as Shah throughout the land.

                 “‘Then go!’ the smiling monarch said,
                 Invoking blessings on his
                 ‘And may kind Heaven thy refuge be,
                 Leading thee on to victory.’”

Now as Isfendiyar knew not the way unto the retreat of Arjasp, behold,
he called before him Karugsar, a demon champion whom he had conquered
and still held captive, saying unto him:

“O Mighty One, reveal unto me, I pray thee, the road unto the Brazen
Fortress, for behold! we go forth presently to conquer the kingdom of
Arjasp, and to restore my fair sisters unto liberty.”

Then Karugsar, surprised that any hero should think of entering upon so
hazardous an enterprise, replied unto Isfendiyar:

“O Hero of Heroes! Behold, there are three different routes which lead
unto the fortress of brass. One there is that occupieth three months,
the way leading through a beautiful country, adorned with cities and
gardens and pastures; a second, less attractive, but perfectly safe,
employing only two months; and a third, by which the journey may be
accomplished in seven days—called on this account the Heft-Khan, or
seven stages. But, mark you, my Lord! at every stage upon this route
some monster or terrible difficulty must be overcome. Yea; and so truly
fearful is it that no monarch, even supported by a large army, hath ever
yet ventured to proceed by this route, for assuredly any one attempting
it would be lost.”

Alas! at this description of the terrors of the Heft-Khan, Isfendiyar
became thoughtful, but he said:

“Verily, no man can die before his time, and I have heard it said that a
man of valor should ever choose the shortest route; therefore, we go by
way of the Heft-Khan.”

So spake brave Isfendiyar and having selected a force of twelve thousand
chosen horsemen, together with an abundance of treasure, behold, he set
forth upon the perilous way.

Now the first day passed without danger, and almost Isfendiyar thought
that his guide had deceived him as to the perils of the way. But as
evening fell, behold, the retinue came unto a forest and a murmuring
stream, when suddenly two enormous wolves appeared and charged the
legions of Isfendiyar. But soon they were laid low, for, seeing them
advance, the whole host poured forth upon them showers of arrows from
their bows. And while Isfendiyar attacked one of them, Bashutan, his
brother, fell upon the other, so that, what with the arrows and the
vigorous attack of the heroes, in a few seconds the two great monsters
lay lifeless in the dust.

So, the first stage of the journey successfully passed, blithely
Isfendiyar entered upon the second. But again the party travelled
peacefully all day, their progress remaining undisputed until toward
sunset, when a lion and a lioness stalked boldly forth, snarling and
angry. Now Bashutan would have divided the labor, even as with the
wolves, but Isfendiyar, seeing how ferocious were the beasts, preferred
to attack them alone.

Hesitating not, therefore, the hero first sallied forth against the
lion, and so watchful and dexterous was he, that with one mighty stroke
he put an end to his life. And this done, behold, he approached the
lioness, who pounced upon him with great fury because of her mate, and
almost you would have said that Isfendiyar’s hour was come. But though
sore pressed, the hero lost not his coolness, holding his own against
the furious beast until an opening was given him, when, rapidly wielding
his sword, in a moment the head of the great lioness went bounding o’er
the plain like a ball shot from a racket, and her life of hunting was
ended, even as that of her mate.

But alas! though two stages of the great Heft-Khan were thus
successfully passed, Karugsar informed Isfendiyar that upon the
following day he would be called upon to encounter a monstrous dragon,
whose roar made the very mountains tremble, and whose hideous jaws shot
forth poisonous foam. So, thus warned, after some thinking, Isfendiyar
ordered to be constructed a curious apparatus on wheels. Now the hero’s
invention was something like a carriage, unto which were fastened a
large quantity of pointed instruments sharp as razors. And to this
machine of death horses were fastened to drag it on the road.

So the next day the retinue again set forth, and after they had gone
some distance Karugsar suddenly exclaimed:

“Surely I smell the stench of the dragon, for nothing else could so
pollute the air!”

Now hearing this, Isfendiyar dismounted hastily from his charger,
ascended into the new machine, and, shutting fast the doors, took his
seat and drove off. But alas! when Bashutan and all the warriors saw the
intention of the hero, lo, they began to lament and weep, begging him to
come out of the machine, and not to rush upon certain death. But
Isfendiyar bade them be of good cheer, and, taking up the reins, he
drove forward with great velocity until he was come in the vicinity of
the awful beast. Then alas!

                 “The dragon from a distance heard
                   The rumbling of the wain
                 And sniffing every breeze that stirred
                   Across the neighboring plain,

                 Smelt something human in his power,
                   A welcome scent to him;
                 For he was eager to devour
                   Hot, reeking blood or limb.

                 And darkness now is spread around,
                   No pathway can be traced;
                 The fiery horses plunge and bound
                   Amid the dismal waste.

                 And now the dragon stretches far
                   His cavern throat, and soon
                 Licks in the horses and the car,
                   And tries to gulp them down.

                 But sword and javelin, sharp and keen,
                   Wound deep each sinewy jaw;
                 Midway remains the huge machine,
                   And chokes the monster’s maw.

                 In agony he breathes, a dire
                   Convulsion fires his blood,
                 And struggling, ready to expire,
                   Ejects a poison-flood!

                 And then disgorges wain and steed,
                   And swords and javelins bright;
                 Then, as the dreadful dragon bleeds,
                   Up starts the warrior-knight,

                 And from his place of ambush leaps,
                   And brandishing his blade,
                 The weapon in the brain he steeps,
                   And splits the monster’s head.

                 But the foul venom issuing thence,
                   Is so o’erpowering found,
                 Isfendiyar, deprived of sense,
                   Falls staggering to the ground!”

Howbeit, though o’ercome by the horrible stench, Isfendiyar was soon
upon his feet asking Karugsar as to his next adventure, and being
informed that upon the following day he would be called upon to combat
the powers of magic, he was no whit dismayed. Nay; on the contrary, he
set out upon the fourth stage of the Heft-Khan with increased
confidence, feeling himself under the protection of the Almighty.

And behold! upon this day his trial was delayed not long, for in the
early morning, as the party refreshed themselves in a pleasant meadow, a
beautiful enchantress appeared, representing herself as a king’s
daughter in great distress on account of a hideous ghoul who had stolen
her from her home and now held her in bondage. Now Isfendiyar feigned
sympathy, but when the wicked one drew near, before she could weave her
spells about him, lo, the hero threw his cord, quickly snaring her in
its meshes. Nor was she permitted to escape, although in her extremity
the fair one successively assumed the shape of a cat, a wolf, and a
decrepit old man, for, vexed at her efforts to cheat him, the Hero soon
made an end of her with his sword.

But behold! no sooner had this happened than a thick, dark cloud of
vapor arose, and when it subsided, lo, there burst forth the black
apparition of a demon with flames issuing from his mouth. Now the ghoul
was indeed frightful, but, nevertheless, Isfendiyar rushed bravely
forward, sword in hand, and, though the flames burnt his cloth armor and
dress, finally, after a terrible fight, he succeeded in cutting off the
threatening monster’s head. Then the hero said unto Karugsar:

“Lo! by the favor of Heaven, both enchantress and ghoul are
exterminated, as well as the wolves, the lions, and the dragon. Now what
awaiteth me next?”

Then Karugsar, who had been truly amazed at the valor of Isfendiyar,
said:

“O Matchless One, truly thy success hath been marvellous, but to-morrow
thou wilt be subjected to a test never before experienced by mortal man,
for thy antagonist will be a mighty Simurgh. Now if thou overcomest this
giant bird, fierce because of her young, thou wilt have performed a feat
not dreamed of by even Rustem the Mighty, and thy name will go ringing
down the ages as the hero who conquered a Simurgh. But alas! much I fear
that the fifth stage of the Heft-Khan will be thy last.”

But, undismayed, Isfendiyar continued his journey, coming presently unto
the mountain where the Simurgh had builded her nest. And here a curious
thing happened, for the giant bird, beholding with surprise an immense
vehicle drawn by two horses approach at a furious rate, immediately
descended from the mountain, and endeavored to take up the whole
apparatus in her claws to carry it unto her nest. But alas! the swords
and javelins cruelly lacerated both claws and beak, so that after a time
the great bird became extremely weakened by the loss of blood. Then
Isfendiyar, seizing this favorable moment, sprang out of the carriage,
and with his sword cleft the mighty bird in twain. Now never had the
Hero beheld a Simurgh, and much he marvelled at the colossal size and
wondrous beauty of the giant Bird of God.

Tarrying not, however, the retinue moved rapidly forward, for Karugsar
informed them that upon the sixth stage their fight would be with the
elements, and they hoped to reach, by hard travel, a place of shelter.
And fortunate was their haste, for as they arrived upon the skirts of a
mountain there suddenly swept down upon them a furious storm of wind and
heavy snow which covered all the ground; yea, and biting cold, which
almost froze the heroes where they stood. Now to escape the wrath of the
elements, Isfendiyar and his men took shelter in a huge cavern, and
there three lingering days they spent, while the snow still fell, and
still the chill winds blew, and man and beast grew faint for want of
food.

Then, in their desperation and anguish of suffering, Isfendiyar and his
warriors, with heads exposed, prostrated themselves in solemn prayer
unto the Almighty. And verily Heaven was kind, for soon the snow and
mighty wind entirely ceased, enabling the heroes to leave the caves of
the mountain safe and unharmed. But when asked of the final stage of the
Heft-Khan, Karugsar said:

“Alas, O Valorous One! Forty farsangs yet lie between thee and the
Brazen Fortress, and every inch of the road is full of peril.

              “Along those plains of burning sand,
                No bird can move, nor ant, nor fly;
              No water slakes the fiery land,
                Intensely glows the flaming sky.

              No tiger fierce, nor lion ever
                Could breathe that pestilential air;
              Even the unsparing vulture never
                Ventures on blood-stained pinions there.”

Now though the picture thus painted was dark, Isfendiyar determined to
press forward. And lo! when they were come unto the place said to be
covered with burning sand, they found the ground cool and pleasant unto
their feet, for the storm in its fury had lessened the burning heat,
making the last stage of the Heft-Khan the easiest of all.

But though the Heft-Khan was now accomplished, there remained yet to be
taken the Brazen Fortress. And as no accessible point of attack could be
discovered, Isfendiyar quickly transformed his warlike cavalcade into a
caravan of peaceful merchantmen, thus gaining admission into the fort.
And being generous of heart, he arranged to give a great banquet unto
Arjasp and the demon chiefs, feasting them right merrily. Then, when no
man was master of his fate save Isfendiyar alone, suddenly the Persians
fell upon the Deevs, completely annihilating them.

And now, this glorious victory achieved, Isfendiyar made haste to return
unto Iran, taking with him his sisters and much treasure. And lo! the
mouths of all men overflowed with praise for the brave young hero of the
Heft-Khan who once more had saved Iran from her foes.

                THE COMBAT OF ISFENDIYAR AGAINST RUSTEM

Behold! it is recorded that Gushtasp the Shah, after the return of his
glorious son Isfendiyar from the triumphs of his great Heft-Khan,
instead of resigning unto him the throne, as he had sworn to do, at once
sent him forth upon a new adventure, which was nothing less than to
slay, or bring unto him in chains, Rustem, the Champion of the World.
For he said:

“Verily, in former days, this Mighty One was obedient unto the Shahs,
but now doth he hold himself superior. For did he not decline to come
unto my aid against Arjasp? Go, therefore, and conquer him, be it by
stratagem or by force, bringing him bound before me. Then shalt thou be
Shah of Iran.”

Now Isfendiyar was grieved when he heard these words of his father, and,
unchaining the door of his lips, he hastened to remind his sire of all
the hero’s glorious deeds. And he said:

“O my father, I pray thee ask of me anything else than this—that I
should make war against the King of China, or against any other ruler
under the sun; but do not ask me to lay hands upon this grand old
champion, who hath been the glory and the defence of Iran for hundreds
of years. Sooner would I relinquish the glories of sovereignty forever.”

But Gushtasp would not give ear unto the words of his son, saying
angrily unto him:

“Verily, thou forgettest that a son oweth ever obedience, without
question, unto his father! Go, therefore, and let me not behold thy face
until thou presentest this Haughty One before me in chains, for I will
that his pride be brought low, that he may recognize that still there is
a Shah in Iran.”

Then Isfendiyar, perceiving his father’s intention, said unto him
coldly:

“Alas, my father! now truly I perceive that thou sendest me forth in
guile. For well thou knowest that no champion in all these long years
hath ever been able to stand before the might of Rustem, and so thou
thinkest thus to rid thyself of Isfendiyar, and the necessity of
abandoning unto him the throne. I say unto thee, therefore, that
Isfendiyar desireth it no longer. Nevertheless, since he is thy slave,
he will go forth at thy bidding, and if peradventure he falleth, then
truly wilt thou be the murderer of thy son, and his blood will be upon
thy head.”

So, though against the wishes of his mother, Isfendiyar placed himself
at the head of a mighty host and set forth upon his disagreeable errand.
But behold! when they had gone but a little way, the camel upon which
the Hero was seated laid him down in the dust, refusing to rise from the
ground, though the driver struck him many times. Now as this was
regarded by all as an evil omen, lo! the head of the beast was cut off
that the evil might fall upon it and not upon his rider. Nevertheless,
Isfendiyar was troubled at this misfortune, pondering what the sign
might mean.

Now when the cavalcade drew nigh unto Seistan, Isfendiyar called unto
him Bahman, his son, giving unto him a message to carry unto Rustem. And
behold, the message contained none but kind words, for Isfendiyar hoped
that thus all might yet be well. So Bahman sped forth, but when he was
come unto the courts of Rustem he found only Zal within, for the great
Pehliva was absent with his followers upon a hunting trip. Now the aged
Prince would have entertained the youth until his son’s return, but
Bahman declared the need of haste, so without tarrying he set forth for
Rustem’s camp.

And behold! after a long day’s travel, the youth arrived at the
halting-place of the hunters of Seistan. Now it was evening as he drew
nigh, and at once he perceived about the blazing fire a man, like unto a
mountain, roasting a wild ass for his supper. Yea, and about him were
many brave heroes all gaily preparing their evening meal. But lo! as he
gazed, what was Bahman’s astonishment to behold that Rustem, of himself,
devoured the whole of a wild ass for his meal; nor did this wondrous
feat appear to be anything out of the ordinary.

Then was the youth filled with consternation, for he thought as he gazed
upon Rustem, who seemed unto him as a huge mountain of might, that not
even Isfendiyar, his gallant father, could stand before such an elephant
of war. So, in his fear, Bahman hastily loosened a large rock from the
mountain-side and sent it rolling unto the place where Rustem sat,
hoping thus to save his father from harm.

But Rustem, when warned by his followers as to the speeding rock,
smiled, and rising leisurely, with his foot he sent it spinning far out
upon the plain. Then was Bahman still more amazed, and also affrighted,
so that for long he dared not come forth from his hiding-place. Yet when
his courage finally allowed him to present himself before the Pehliva,
Rustem welcomed him warmly. And as he entertained his guest, behold,
again he ate as though his day’s fast had but now been broken, and once
more Bahman marvelled at the might and majesty of the great hero of
Seistan. But, the meal being ended, the youth delivered at once his
father’s message. Then was Rustem filled with wrath and amazement, yet
restrained he his anger, replying courteously unto Bahman:

“O Noble Youth! I pray thee bear greeting unto Isfendiyar, thy gallant
sire, whose glory hath added such lustre unto the crown of Iran, and say
unto him that Rustem rejoiceth that at last he is to behold his face.
But as for his demand, surely it is the device of the Evil One, and can
in nowise come to pass, for no man shall ever behold Rustem in chains.
Wherefore, say unto thy glorious sire that the Pehliva of Seistan beg
him to honor their house as his guest, and when we shall have feasted
together, then will I go forth unto Gushtasp. And his anger, which is
unjust, will vanish like unto the morning mist, and all will again be
well.”

So Bahman sped back unto his father, and Rustem followed after to
present, in person, his homage unto the Prince. And behold! when he was
come near unto the royal camp, the Pehliva dismounted from Rakush, going
forward upon foot to pay his respects unto Isfendiyar. For he wished to
pay honor unto him, not only as his Prince, but also as the brave hero
of the Heft-Khan. Now when the two had embraced, Rustem said:

“O Valorous Prince, whose wondrous deeds have filled the world with
glory, behold, I have a boon to ask at thy hands, for I desire that thou
enter into my house as my honored guest.”

But Isfendiyar, whose eyes could not cease from gazing upon the mighty
form of Rustem, nevertheless replied unto him:

“O Champion of the World! Unfortunately my errand forbiddeth me to eat
of thy bread and salt, otherwise my soul would joy in thy hospitality.
And alas! though it is grievous unto me, yet must I be faithful unto my
mission.”

Then Rustem replied unto Isfendiyar, speaking still more earnestly, and
he said:

“Yet again, O brave Isfendiyar, do I entreat thee to enter into my house
in friendship. Then will I do all that thou desirest, except only that I
cannot submit unto the chains, for that would be neither fitting nor
right—as thou well knowest.”

Now unto this Isfendiyar replied:

“Alas! not only can I not feast with thee, O Mighty One, but,
furthermore, if thou wilt not hearken unto my demands, then must I fall
upon thee in enmity. But, as my soul goeth out to thee on account of thy
deeds of valor, to-day let there be peace between us, and do thou feast
with me in my tent.”

So Rustem, hoping that thus unpleasantness might yet be avoided,
replied:

“Gracious Prince, gladly will I come unto thee, but first must I change
my robes, for, as thou seest, I am attired for the chase, and not as is
fitting unto the guest of a Prince. When thy banquet is ready,
therefore, send forth a messenger, and I will come unto thee with joy.”

But behold! when Rustem was gone, Isfendiyar pondered over that which
was come to pass, and his heart was full of care. So he said unto his
brother:

“Verily, since the sword must decide our strife, not only have I no
place in the house of Rustem, but neither is it fitting that he should
enter into mine. Wherefore, I shall not send for him to come unto my
feast!”

But Bashutan, shaking his head sadly, replied unto Isfendiyar:

“O my brother, truly it seemeth unto me a pity that heroes like unto
Rustem and Isfendiyar should meet in enmity. I counsel thee, therefore,
to disregard the unjust demands of our father, for much I fear that he
seeketh but to ensnare thee.”

Then Isfendiyar was thoughtful, but finally he said:

“Truly I am not deceived as to the desires of Gushtasp, but if I obey
not my father it will be a reproach unto me in this world, and in the
next I shall have to render account for it before God, my Maker—for so
teacheth Zerdusht the Holy One.”

So, though Isfendiyar prepared him a feast, when it was ready he sent
not to summon his guest. And behold! when Rustem had waited long, he was
angry because the messenger came not. Nevertheless, he tarried not at
home, but hastened unto the tent of Isfendiyar to see what had befallen.

Now when the warriors of the Prince beheld Rustem draw near, lo, they
gazed in open-eyed admiration, saying among themselves:

“Saw you ever such limbs, and such a chest on mortal man? Surely
Gushtasp is bereft of reason, or never would he send Isfendiyar thus
unto his death. But alas! the old Shah huggeth his throne and his
treasure ever closer as age creepeth on, caring naught for the welfare
of Iran.”

But, all unconscious of the admiration and fear he was exciting, Rustem,
hot and angry, presented himself before the Prince, saying:

“O Young Man, thou mayest be a hero, but certainly thou seemest not to
be acquainted with the laws of courtesy due unto an invited guest, since
thou deemest him not worthy of a messenger. But perhaps thou knowest not
that it is Rustem whom thou treatest thus disdainfully?—Rustem, whose
glorious deeds have made the throne of Iran to shine as a beacon light
unto all the world!”

Now Isfendiyar, abashed at the anger of the Great Pehliva, excused
himself for his breach of courtesy, saying:

“O Mighty One, verily I had thought to save thee the long, hot journey
hither; but since thou art come, pray enter, and let us drink a cup of
wine together.”

Now, thus speaking, behold! Isfendiyar offered unto Rustem a place at
his left hand, smiling courteously:

But Rustem, advancing proudly, said quietly unto Isfendiyar:

“Not at thy left, O Prince, for never yet hath Rustem sat save at the
right hand of the Shahs of Iran.”

Thus spake Rustem, and behold! so majestic was the mien of the old Hero,
as he thus calmly asserted his rights, that at once a chair of gold was
brought and placed at Isfendiyar’s right hand. But, though outwardly
calm, the heart of Rustem burned at the dishonor done unto him, and even
the wine soothed not his ruffled spirit. Yea, and the unfavorable
impression made by the Prince was further increased by his words. For,
after drinking for a few minutes in silence, he said:

“So thou hast ever sat at the right hand of Kings, Old Warrior! Strange!
for surely it hath been said unto me that Rustem is sprung of evil
stock. Now, truly, is not Zal, thy father, of demon extraction? And was
he not reared by a vile bird that gave unto him garbage for nourishment?
So, at least, it hath been reported unto me.”

Alas! this was an insult too biting for Rustem to bear with any degree
of patience, so, frowning angrily, he said:

“Thou and I, O Prince, can boast of the same origin, as thou well
knowest, since we are both descended from Husheng the Shah. Why, then,
use such injurious language? Yea, and would it not, perhaps, be becoming
for Isfendiyar to remember that but for the honor and fidelity of Rustem
and his house unto the Shahs, Isfendiyar of the Heft-Khan would not be
numbered among the heroes of Iran? But, after all, what hath he done?
Why! he hath slain Arjasp, one puny King, while over against that is the
long record of Rustem’s glorious deeds, which need not to be recounted.”

Now Rustem’s vehemence and the disdainful tone of his voice made it hard
for Isfendiyar to remember the courtesy due unto a guest, but,
restraining his anger, he said softly unto him:

“O Modest One! Why dost thou raise thy voice so high and speak so
loftily? For, after all, thou wert, and art still, but the slave of the
Shah, dependent for thy very breath upon his clemency. And after all,
what were thy seven boasted labors to my terrible Heft-Khan? And who, I
ask you,—by the power of his sword—diffused the blessings of the faith
of Zerdusht throughout the world? Verily, Rustem hath performed the
duties of a warrior and a servant, but Isfendiyar the holy functions of
a sovereign and a prophet. But now have we boasted enough, for behold,
the day is almost ended and I am hungry. Let us eat and drink,
therefore, for to-morrow will we meet in enmity upon the field of
battle.”

So a great banquet was spread, and the two heroes sat down to feast,
Rustem astonishing Isfendiyar greatly, for never had the Prince dreamed
that mortal man could eat and drink so much, and he wondered not now
that Rustem’s might was reckoned equal to that of a hundred strong men.
When the time of departure was come, however, once more Rustem begged
Isfendiyar to be his guest on the morrow, but again the Prince refused.
Then the Hero knew that words were idle, and he was sorrowful in his
soul, for within himself he said:

“Truly the Evil One is in this whole affair, and no good can come of it.
Now if I suffer these chains, men will mock that Rustem permitted a boy
to bind him, and the dishonor of it can never be wiped out. Yet if I
slay this stripling on the morrow, the glory of a lifetime will be
tarnished, for men will say that in his last days Rustem lifted up his
hand against one of the royal house.”

Nevertheless, concealing his sorrow and dismay, he replied gaily unto
Isfendiyar, saying:

“So be it then, O Stubborn One! to-morrow will we meet in conflict,
since naught else will content thee. And behold! when I shall have
lifted thee lightly from off thy saddle, straight will I convey thee
unto Silver-crowned Zal, who shall place thee upon the ivory throne,
while upon thy head a crown of gold shall glitter. Yea, and when that we
have feasted, right loyally our troops shall fight for thee as King, and
we will serve thee faithfully as thy Pehliva forever and a day.”

But Isfendiyar, thinking that Rustem mocked, said angrily:

“Old Man! Verily thou hadst best save thy breath for combat, since
to-morrow, by the aid of Zerdusht, will I make the world dark unto thine
eyes.”

Then Rustem, laughing, said:

“O Foolish Youth, when Rustem wieldeth his mace, behold, the world
trembleth, and the head of his enemy falls. Consider, therefore, thy
course.”

Now when he had thus spoken, Rustem rode forth from out the tents of
Isfendiyar, and though his lips smiled, his heart was heavy with
foreboding. Nevertheless, when he was come unto his palace, he commanded
that his armor and implements of war be brought before him. Then, as he
gazed upon them, sighing, he said:

“O my raiment of battle, verily thou hast rested long, yet once again
must I don thee for combat. And alas! I greatly fear me that it is for
my last fight.”

But behold! when sunshine once more flooded the world, then the Pehliva
threw off his sadness, for he resolved once more to speak persuasive
words unto the Prince. So, having received his father’s blessing, he
armed himself for battle, and rode forth unto the tents of Isfendiyar,
and lo! when he was come near, he shouted gaily:

“Ho, Brave Isfendiyar! Why sleepest thou when the hero with whom thou
wouldst try thy strength hath come forth to meet thee?”

Now Isfendiyar, at this call, quickly issued from his tent, and, leaping
upon his charger, rode like the wind unto his waiting antagonist. So the
two met, the old warrior and the young, and truly they were a doughty
pair. But Rustem’s efforts at persuasion were vain, for Isfendiyar would
hear of naught but battle.

So, after the useless controversy, behold, the Champions began their
combat. Now they began the fight with their spears, but as the contest
lasted for long hours, they tested their strength and skill successively
with their swords, clubs, and lassos; but still the end came not. For,
though they fought until both they and their horses were worn out with
weariness, neither could prevail. So they stopped them awhile to rest.

But behold! as they rested, Bahman, the son of Isfendiyar, rushed up to
his father, informing him that Rustem’s lieutenants had provoked a
battle between the two armies, and that as a consequence two valiant
youths, sons of Isfendiyar, were slain, and the Shah’s troops put to
rout with great slaughter. Then was Isfendiyar transported with rage.
Calling aloud unto Rustem, therefore, he said:

“Ho, Old Man! Dost thou hear this? Thy chiefs have fallen upon my
troops, killing my two brave sons. Verily, I had thought such treachery
beneath the Mighty Rustem.”

Now when Rustem heard these words, behold, he trembled like a leaf. But
he said:

“O Isfendiyar, I swear unto thee by the head of the King, by the sun,
and by my conquering sword, that no part have I had in this matter. Yea,
and to prove it unto thee, I swear that whoever hath been in fault, even
though it be my dearest, lo, he shall be bound hand and foot and given
over unto thee for vengeance.”

But, unplacated, the Prince cried angrily unto Rustem:

“Verily, O Treacherous One, thy words have a pleasant sound, but I say
unto thee, it is idle to kill the snake that the peacock’s death may be
avenged. Thine own blood, therefore, shall pay for that of my sons, for
verily my arrows shall make the world dark unto thine eyes.”

Now thus saying, Isfendiyar seized his bow, and whiz! whiz! went a
shower of arrows through the air, fastening themselves in the body of
Rustem and Rakush, his steed. Yea, twice thirty arrows were there in
all, and not one of them was there that did not wound the Hero or his
horse, while Rustem’s missiles fell harmless upon Isfendiyar, because
that Zerdusht had charmed his body against all danger so that it was
like unto brass.

Then Rustem, seeing that Rakush was like to perish of his wounds, and
feeling also his own strength going from loss of blood, cried unto
Isfendiyar:

“Behold, night is at hand, O Angry One, and since even heroes cannot
combat in the darkness, go thy way, and we will meet again in the
morning.”

But Isfendiyar, seeing that Rustem staggered in his saddle, said:

“Old Man, think not to escape me thus, for yet there is light enough to
finish our combat.”

But Rustem replied unto the Eager One:

“Not so, O Isfendiyar! Farewell, therefore, until morning.”

Now so saying, quickly Rustem turned him and swam across the stream. And
behold! Isfendiyar was amazed, for he knew that both steed and rider
were sore wounded. Then, standing upon the bank, with his lips he
reviled the fleeing Hero, but lo! in his heart he was filled with
admiration and wonder at his prowess.

And now, Rustem having escaped him, sorrowfully Isfendiyar returned unto
his tent, where he mourned over the bodies of his two sons. But when the
night was far spent, lo, he placed them on biers of ebony, in coffins of
gold, and sent them unto the Shah with this message:

“O King of Evil Devices! Behold, I am sending unto thee the first fruits
of thy seeds of guile. Isfendiyar is yet alive, but Heaven alone knoweth
what may befall to-morrow.”

[Illustration: Isfendiyar seized his bow, and whiz! whiz! went a shower
of arrows.]

Then the Prince said unto his brother:

“O Bashutan, my brother! Verily this Rustem is not mortal. For neither
with my sword nor javelin could I do harm unto his body formed of rock
and iron. But, thanks unto Zerdusht, the charmed arrows have done their
work, and it will indeed be wonderful if the Mighty One liveth
throughout the night.”

Meanwhile, when the wounded Hero, of whom Isfendiyar spoke thus
feelingly, was come into the presence of Zal and Rudabeh, behold, they
rent the air with their cries of woe; for never yet had Rustem returned
unto them vanquished; neither had any man e’er done such harm unto his
body. Now they cried out sore in their distress, and Rustem, too,
lamented, for the pain of his wounds was great. Presently, however,
seeing that the case of his son was indeed serious, Zal bethought him of
a remedy. So he said:

“O my glorious son, mourn not so bitterly, for yet there is hope for
thee, since in this, our extremity, once more I shall call unto our aid
the Wondrous Bird of God.”

So at once Zal went forth unto a high mountain, taking with him three
golden censers filled with fire, and as many mighty magicians, who
caused the fires to glow brighter and ever brighter. And lo! at the end
of the first watch of the night, Silver-crowned Zal dropped into the
brightly glowing fire the glorious golden feather of the Simurgh. Then
instantly a mighty stir of wings filled all the air, and the Wondrous
Bird of God dropped down beside her child, listening sympathetically
unto his plaint. And, the story being told, the Simurgh said:

“Let the Mighty Rustem and his glorious steed be brought unto me, for
lo! there is healing in my wings.”

So quickly the magicians hastened back unto the palace, and though
Rustem and Rakush had scarcely strength to move, yet went they unto the
mountain with all the speed they could, pausing not until they were come
into the presence of the Bird of God.

And now the glorious Simurgh, swiftly passing her golden beak over the
body of the wounded Hero, drew thence four wicked arrow-heads. Then
caressing the wounds softly and lightly with her fluffy wings, lo, in a
moment, Rustem felt all his strength return. Yea, and Rakush, too,
rejoiced, neighing, and tossing his mighty head for gladness when that
the six charmed arrow-heads troubled his peace no more; and then, the
work of healing done, the Simurgh said unto Rustem:

“Alas, O Son of Zal! Wherefore hast thou entered upon combat with the
son of the Shah, and the beloved of Zerdusht? For verily it can bring
thee naught but woe; and there is little that even I can do to aid thee.
For never hath there appeared in the world so brave and so perfect a
hero as Isfendiyar. Yea, and the favor of Heaven is with him also, for
in his great Heft-Khan, by some clever artifice, he succeeded in killing
a Simurgh, and the farther thou art removed from his invincible arm,
therefore, the greater will be thy safety. For alas! in the Book of Fate
it is written that whosoever sheddeth the blood of Isfendiyar, he also
shall perish miserably, never again knowing joy in this life, and also
suffering pangs in the life to come. But if this fate dismay thee not,
come forth with me, and I will reveal unto thee a way to lay thine enemy
low—if the stars decree that his hour is come.”

So, wishing not to face defeat, Rustem mounted into the golden chariot
of which he had heard so oft from his father, and the Simurgh bare him
far, far away, even unto the shores of a mighty sea. Now there she put
the Hero down softly in a garden wherein grew a tamarisk-tree, whose
roots were in the ground, but whose branches pierced unto heaven. Then
the Simurgh said:

“O Glorious Son of Zal, I pray thee choose from this tree the longest,
straightest and finest branch that thou canst find, for to this tamarisk
bough is bound the fate of Isfendiyar. Yea, and after thou hast secured
it, make it yet straighter before the fire, search out a well-tempered
arrow-head, feather it well, and if Isfendiyar’s hour is come, this is
the weapon which, when directed unto his forehead, will cause him to
perish, for only through his eye can this hero be wounded, since
Zerdusht hath made the rest of his body invulnerable. But yet once more
I counsel thee, bring this matter to a good end, for so shalt thou
escape much sorrow.”

Now having thus spoken, behold, the Simurgh carried Rustem safely back
unto the palace of Zal, bidding him be of good cheer. After her
departure, however, the Hero hastened to carry out her commands as to
the fashioning of the fateful arrow.

But behold! when morning was come, Rustem mounted upon fiery Rakush, and
rode serenely forth unto the camp of Isfendiyar. And lo! his antagonist
yet slumbered, for he thought of a surety that Rustem must have perished
from his wounds during the night. So, beholding that Isfendiyar yet
slept, Rustem, lifting up his voice of thunder, cried:

“Ho, Brave Crocodile of War! Is it a time to slumber when thou hast
challenged a hero to combat? Get thee up, for verily Rustem is not
accustomed thus to be kept waiting.”

Now when Isfendiyar, thus awakened, beheld that it was really Rustem who
awaited him without the tent, he was amazed. But quickly donning his
armor, and mounting his horse, he soon appeared in the presence of
Rustem, saying unto him:

“O Elephant-limbed Warrior! Yesterday thou wert wounded almost unto
death by my arrows, and to-day there is no trace of them either upon
thee or thy steed. Pray how is this?

              “But, then, thy father, Zal, is a sorcerer,
                And he by charm and spell
              Hath cured all the wounds of the warrior,
                And now he is safe and well.
              For the wounds I gave could never be
              Closed up except by sorcery.
              Yea, the wounds I gave thee in every part
              Could never be cured but by magic art.”

Then Rustem, replying unto Isfendiyar, said:

“O Royal Archer! Know that if thou wert to shoot at me a thousand
arrows, they would all drop harmless unto the ground. Therefore, let us
be friends, and not only shalt thou be placed upon the throne, but all
the treasure of the house of Zal shall be thine.”

But Isfendiyar replied impatiently unto Rustem:

“Brave Prater! Wilt thou never cease from thy idle talk? Now once for
all I say unto thee that never will I forsake the paths of God by
disobeying my father. Choose, therefore, between chains and battle.”

Then Rustem, seeing that his submission was not accepted, though he had
offered to sacrifice much, bent his bow, and laid the arrow of tamarisk
in rest, and so held it while he prayed unto God. And lo! the Prince,
noting that the Hero delayed, thought that he did so from fear, and he
taunted him. Then Rustem, hesitating no longer, let his arrow fly toward
his enemy, and behold! it sped straight unto its mark, piercing the eye
of Isfendiyar, so that the bow dropped from his hand, and he clutched at
his horse’s mane. Yea,

                “And darkness overspread his sight,
                The world to him was hid in night;
                The bow dropped from his slackened hand,
                And down he sank upon the sand.”

Now long Isfendiyar swooned, and his kinsmen and chiefs, beholding what
had befallen, rent the air with their woe. But the Prince, when he
revived, said unto them calmly:

“O Heroes of Iran, trouble not yourselves on account of my death, for it
is not Rustem who hath slain me, nor the Simurgh, nor yet the magic
arrow, but my father, who knowingly sent me forth unto my death, and
verily the curse of the Great Prophet shall fall upon his head. As for
thee, O Rustem, being but the instrument of fate, thou art guiltless in
this matter, and that thou mayest know how I honor thee, I desire that
thou take unto thee Bahman, my son, and rear him for Iran, even as thou
didst noble Siawush, for lo! it hath been revealed unto me that Bahman
will sit upon the throne that hath been denied unto me.”

Alas! having thus spoken, behold, Isfendiyar sighed, and the sun of his
life was set, and great was the lamentation for the brave young hero
lost unto Iran. As for Rustem, sorrowfully he made ready for Isfendiyar
a coffin of gold, causing it to be lined with silken stuffs and perfumed
with amber. Then he laid therein the valiant hero-prince of the
Heft-Khan, and all beholding him wept with bitter sorrow. Tenderly then
the coffin of gold was placed upon the back of a slow-moving dromedary,
forty others following in its wake. And lo! there followed after them
the brave army of the Prince, clad in robes of mourning, while Bashutan
marched at the head of the sorrowful train, leading Isfendiyar’s horse,
whose saddle was reversed and whose mane and tail were shorn, while from
its sides hung the armor of the vanquished one. Now thus it was that
they brought brave Isfendiyar back unto the palace of his fathers, and
behold! all the world mourned this great loss unto Iran.

But while Iran sorrowed for Isfendiyar, behold, Bahman grew up in the
courts of Rustem, the Pehliva loving him as a son. For in his heart he
grieved bitterly that by his hand brave Isfendiyar had fallen. Yea, and
he gloried not in his last great fight, even though he knew that now his
star would shine on undimmed unto the end, and that the children of
Ormuzd would sing his praises through all the ages as the one great
unconquered hero of the Persians.

                          THE DEATH OF RUSTEM

Lo! it is chronicled by Firdusi, who, in his great epic poem, hath made
immortal the heroes and kings of Persia, that Zal in his old age had
born unto him a son of remarkable beauty. But alas! when the astrologers
cast the horoscope of this beautiful babe, they read therein that few
and evil would be the days of Shughad; that he would be the ruin of the
house of his fathers, also bringing destruction upon the land of Iran.

Now Zal was overwhelmed with dismay when this message of the stars was
communicated unto him, and he prayed continually unto Ormuzd that he
would avert this terrible fate from the head of his boy. Yea, and he
reared him carefully, sparing no pains to inculcate in the youth the
principles of truth, honor, loyalty unto his house and unto the King.

Then, when Shughad was come unto man’s estate, Zal sent him unto the
King of Kabul, who, when he saw that he was tall and handsome, and fit
in every way to sit upon the throne, showed unto him great kindness,
even giving unto him his daughter in marriage, and providing for him
bountifully.

Now the King of Kabul paid tribute unto Rustem, every year being
required to send unto the Hero of Seistan a bull’s hide as a token of
sovereignty. And alas! this was a great grievance unto his soul, for he
was proud in his spirit and desired to be bondsman unto none. So it was
not alone kindness which prompted him to take Shughad unto him as his
son, for in his heart he hoped thus to have the tribute remitted.

But behold! when the proper time came, Rustem sent his messenger as
usual to demand the bull’s hide, which made the King very angry. So, in
his disappointment, he hesitated not to express his opinion of Rustem’s
conduct unto Shughad, stirring up his mind against his brother. Then
Shughad, becoming angry and discontented also, said unto the King:

“Verily, since my elder brother hath behaved unto me thus unkindly, in
my heart he shall be unto me no more than a stranger. Let us consider,
therefore, how we may ensnare him.”

So all night the King and Shughad talked and pondered how they might rid
the world of Rustem, and at last they decided upon a scheme.

Consequently, it came to pass that presently the King of Kabul gave a
great feast, and when all had become excited with wine, behold, Shughad,
the son of Zal, began to boast of his lineage, saying:

“Verily, Shughad alone of all this great company should be toasted! Yea,
and I except not even the King, our host! For is not the Mighty Rustem
my brother? And do I not come from a long line of heroes, extending from
Husheng the Shah even unto Zal of the white hair?”

Now hearing this, lo, the King sprang up in pretended wrath, saying:

“Upstart! Thinkest thou to lord it over me, the King of Kabul? Verily,
nay! For thou art really no brother unto Rustem, since thy mother was
but a slave in thy father’s household. Therefore, boast not so loudly.”

Then Shughad, feigning great anger, hastily left the banqueting-halls,
threatening to call forth Rustem to avenge the insulting words of the
King. So, with guile in his heart, the Prince rode forth unto the palace
of his brother. And behold! after they had exchanged greetings, Rustem
said:

“And how fares it with thee at Kabul, O my brother? Art thou still happy
and contented in the King’s palace?”

Then Shughad, rejoicing at the opening thus given him, said:

“I pray thee do not speak unto me of Kabul, for the word is hateful unto
mine ears. For verily this night hath the King insulted me beyond
bearing. Yea, and thee, too, and my father! So I came away in a rage,
and never will I return until the vile words which he spake of my family
are avenged.”

Now when Rustem learned what had been spoken by the King of Kabul, he
said unto Shughad:

“O my brother, trouble not thyself concerning this matter, for verily it
shall bring thee naught but gain. Alas! ever hath the King of Kabul been
vain and arrogant of spirit, but for this he shall be humbled unto the
dust, for no longer shall he reign in Kabul, since his crown shall
henceforth grace thine own fair brow.”

So, at once Rustem set forth to avenge the wrongs of his brother, but
lo! when they were yet far from Kabul, they were met by the King, who,
bowing himself low in the dust, said unto Rustem:

“O Lord of the World! Thou beholdest before thee, with uncovered head
and bare feet, the proud King of Kabul. Pardon, therefore—thou who art
gracious as the River Nile—the foolish words of thy slave, spoken when
his head was troubled with wine. For lo! his mouth is filled with dust
and his soul with sorrow and repentance.”

Now hearing these words of humility, Rustem’s anger was appeased.
Granting unto the King forgiveness, therefore, he graciously consented
to be his guest. So a great banquet was made ready to celebrate the
reconciliation, and as they feasted the King lauded his wondrous
hunting-grounds, wherein the deer and the wild ass furnished such
excellent sport, and he invited Rustem to hunt therein for a day before
returning unto Seistan.

So Rustem, who loved the chase almost as well as the field of battle,
consented to remain the King’s guest for yet another day, for he
suspected not that poison lurked in the honey of the monarch’s words.
But alas! in a certain part of these beautiful hunting-grounds, the
schemers had caused to be dug treacherous pits, lined thickly with
swords and lances and hunting-spears, yet no man would have suspected
their existence, so cleverly were they covered over.

On the following day, therefore, the King directed the hunt unto the
place in the forest where the pits were hidden. And behold! Shughad ran
beside the horse of Rustem to show unto him the path. But when they were
come unto the place of peril, Rakush, smelling the newly-turned earth,
reared high in the air, refusing to advance. Then Rustem, thinking he
was afraid, commanded him to go forward; but Rakush, backing, refused to
give ear unto his master’s voice. Now this made Rustem angry so that
lightly he struck him with his whip, though never before in all their
long wanderings together had he done so. Then, alas! surprised and
maddened by the stroke, Rakush sprang forward, but only to fall into one
of the treacherous pits.

Now sinking into the midst of this cruel bed of pointed weapons, many a
ghastly stab and many a cut in limb and body received Rustem and his
gallant steed. Yet from this awful grave, at one prodigious spring,
Rakush escaped with his master still upon his back. But alas! what
availed that mighty effort? For, down again into another pit, yet
deeper, both fell together. And though again they rose, and yet again,
it was only to be engulfed once more, and yet again. Yea, seven times
down prostrate, seven times bruised and maimed, did Rakush struggle on,
until mounting up the edge of the seventh pit, all covered with deep
wounds, both horse and rider lay exhausted, Rustem swooning in his
agony.

But when once more the mighty Hero opened his horror-stricken eyes upon
the world, lo, he beheld Shughad his brother, smiling in triumph at his
side. Then knew he unto whom he owed this infamous treachery, and he
said:

“Thou Wicked One! Is it possible that thou, the son of Zal, hast
contrived and wrought this evil deed against thy brother? Verily thy
heart is as black as thy shadow, which shall not long darken the earth.”

Then the treacherous Shughad, trying to justify his cruel deed, said
sternly unto the dying Hero:

“Verily, God hath decreed this awful vengeance to recompense thee for
all the blood that thou hast shed in thy long life as a warrior. Not I,
but He, hath determined thy fate.”

Now at this moment the King of Kabul drew near, feigning great anger and
sorrow when he beheld the dying one. And he wailed:

“Alas the day! That the Mighty Rustem should perish so ignobly, and as
my guest! Quick, bring the matchless balm for Rustem’s cure, for the
great Champion of Iran must not be allowed to die a death so wretched!”

But Rustem, smiling scornfully, said unto the treacherous King:

“O Man of Wile! Right well thou knowest that Death, that cometh unto all
men in their turn, is the only physician that now can heal the great
Rustem of his wounds. But why should the mighty son of Zal complain of
Fate? For verily, many a mighty King hath died and left me still
triumphant, still in power unconquerable. And behold! yet there liveth
valiant Feramurz, who will be revenged upon thee for his father’s
death.”

And now the Mighty Rustem sighed, saying unto Shughad in a weak and
mournful voice:

“Verily, my spirit will soon be free! But alas! it grieveth me sore that
my faithful body may this night be food unto the wolves and lions.
String, therefore, my bow, and place it in my hands that I may appear
unto the wild beasts that would devour me, even as a live warrior, ready
to defend his life. For our father’s sake, O Shughad, refuse not thy
brother this last request.”

So, suspecting naught, Shughad drew the great bow from its case, and
placed it in Rustem’s hands, smiling with satisfaction to think that his
brother’s end was so nigh. But verily he smiled not but a moment, for
noting the strength with which Rustem gripped his bow, and the peculiar
look of his eye, shuddering with terror, quickly Shughad dodged behind a
plane-tree close at hand. But useless was the shelter, for though the
dimness of death was come over the eyes of the Hero, he yet spied
Shughad where he hid, and whiz! went an arrow, straight through the tree
and the wicked Shughad, transfixing them together. And Rustem, when he
saw the fate of his brother, was content, knowing that he could do no
more harm unto his house.

But alas! of all that mighty hunting-party not a knightly follower
escaped. For Zuara and all the others perished in the treacherous pits
of the traitor King, save only one, who quickly fled with the dire news
unto Seistan.

Then Zal, in agony, tore his white hair and rent his garments, lamenting
bitterly for Rustem, crying again and again:

“Why was I not present, fighting at his side? Why could I not die for
him? Wherefore, alas, am I left alone to mourn his memory?”

But behold! though bowed to the earth with grief, quickly the
white-haired old warrior sent Feramurz forth with a great army to avenge
the death of his father. And verily the work of the Hero was complete.
For not only did he make of Kabul a desert, but he laid low the head of
the treacherous King and all his race. Then the work of vengeance
finished, lo, he sought out the body of Rustem, and of Rakush his
gallant steed, and bare them back in sorrow unto Seistan, where they
were placed in a noble tomb.

And alas! never was there such wailing in the land of Iran as for Rustem
the Mighty. Nay, not even for the glorious Shahs of Old! And well might
it be so, for never again did Persia rejoice in such an unbroken line of
heroes, and never did she achieve such telling victories, for with
Rustem her glory departed; yea, for many long years!

End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of Rustem, by Elizabeth D. Renninger