In the course of an hour the giant was so near as to be distinctly seen in shape like an immense dome. He had neither hands nor feet, but a tremendous mouth situated in the midst of his body. He advanced with a revolving motion, and from his jaws issued volumes of flame and clouds of smoke. When the people of the village saw this terrific spectacle, they trumbled for fear, and were attempt­ing to fly. “You have nothing to fear,” said Hatim, “stand quiet and look on not the least harm will befall you.” The people, encouraged by Hatim’s address, stood silent as the dead, and trembling beheld the approach of the giant.

Hatim stood with his eye fixed on Halūka as he rolled towards him; and when the giant was within a few paces of the mirror, the curtain that covered it was suddenly pulled off. When Halūka beheld his own monstrous form in the glass, his breath was stopped from anger; only he uttered a single yell, so loud as to make the desert and the mountains to shake. Thus choking with rage, he remained for a short time, till at last his confined breath so inflated him that he burst like the crash of the thunderbolt, so that the hearers were struck senseless, and the echoes of the wilderness reverberated far and wide.

When the people were restored to their sense, what a spectacle they beheld! The desert was overspread with the loathsome entrails of Halūka that now lay dead before them. The whole assembly, including the chief and his son, gathered around Hatim and prostrated themselves at his feet. They then addressed him: “Most learned Sir, tell us the reason why the monster has thus died as it were of his own accord?”— “You see,” replied Hatim, “the giant has come by his death, not from any weapon, but merely by the viewing of his own image, for he had never seen his own likeness in any other creature; rage stopped his breath so effectually that he burst.”

Next day the inhabitants of the village, each according to his means, produced all their valuables in gold, jewels, and diamonds and offered them to Hatim, who would accept nothing, saying, “My good friends, these are not of the least use to me. In this affair I have merely discharged my duty towards God and my fellow creatures.”— “May we ask,” said they, “what has been the cause of your coming into our village?” Hatim answered, “This is the eve of Jumat, when a voice will be heard in the desert, crying, ‘I have not done aught that will benefit me this night.’ In order to be ascertained as to this voice, I have journeyed hither and to-night I intend to travel in pursuit of the mysterious being who utters the exclamation.”

The chief observed, “It is now some time since that voice has been heard by us also, but we do not know whence it proceeds.” Hatim remained in the village for the whole of that day, and at the usual time at night the voice reached his ear, and he instantly proceeded in the direction whence it issued. For the whole of the night he continued to advance as he supposed towards the sound, and when daylight came he found himself still in the desert, where he again halted.

In short, Hatim thus journeyed onwards, week after week for the space of two months, at the expiration of which period he at last came to a mound of sand of about five hundred guz in diameter. He ascended to the summit, and soon discovered that the voice issued from its interior. He halted, and looked around him; and, lo! a body of men consisting of about five hundred horsemen, and as many on foot, appeared drawn up in army before him. He approached them, but found that they were all statues of marble, being as he conjectured monuments of the illustrious dead. Among these tombs Hatim rested for the week, until the time of hearing the voice should again come round.

As evening of Jumat closed its shades, Hatim ascended the sand-hill, and devoutly kneeling, poured out his soul in prayer before the Almighty Creator. When about a watch of the night had passed, the inmates of the tombs started into life, with countenances resembling angels. They arrayed the place with couches and thrones, on which they sat apparelled in robes of splendid description. But amidst these, one of the revived dead, with weeping eyes and mean apparel, his body sprinkled with dust and ashes, and his feet bare, came forth, and in humble posture sat upon the cold ground. Before each of those who sat on thrones and couches flowed streams of nectar, of which they freely drank, but none of them gave the least drop to the wretched man who sat upon the bare earth. The latter, after some time, fetched a deep sigh, and said, “Alas! I have not done that which might have benefited me this night.”

Hatim stood near them and witnessed the whole scene, and rejoiced that his inquiries were now likely to prove successful. When the hour of midnight arrived, a table miraculously placed itself before each of them. On every table was laid a large vessel full of rice and milk, with a goblet full of pure water. But there stood a table apart from the rest furnished in like manner, and one of the com­pany said, “Come, my friends, this traveller is our guest for the time, let him be introduced, and seated at this table which is unoccupied.” On hearing this, one of them arose, and advancing to Hatim, took him kindly by the hand, and conducting him to a couch, placed food before him.

Hatim’s attention was wholly occupied by the man who lay on the ground constantly sighing and weeping, and at short intervals exclaiming, “I have not done aught that can benefit me this night.” The latter, too, had a table, but instead of nectar and ambrosia his cup was filled with the juice of the zakkūm,* and the food of the damned, and the most loathsome dregs mingled with blood. Hatim for some time held down his head in deep reflexion, and at last began to taste of the fare before him. After he had refreshed him­self with food and drink, the tables vanished from his view; but his whole thoughts ever reverted to the mysterious state of that wretched being who sat upon the ground before him.

Hatim addressed the company, said, “Most worthy sirs, I have one request which, with your permission, I should wish to state.” The assembly requested him to speak. Hatim then proceeded: “How comes it, worthy sirs, that you are seated on thrones, exalted in dignity, and regaled with such heavenly and delicious fare; and, on the other hand, tell me the reason why, instead of such food, the juice of the zakkūm with the most loathsome of dregs has been alloted as the portion of this miserable man who lies stretched on the bare earth?” To this they replied, “From us that mystery is utterly hidden, seek information from the sufferer himself.”

Hatim arose, and coming up to the man, said, “Pray, friend, what is the meaning of this mysterious exclamation which you utter? From what cause are you become involved in such a state of misery? For heaven’s sake inform me of your condition.” The man of woe replied, “My kind friend, I am the chief of all this assembly. My name is Yusuf, and my occupation has been that of a mer­chant. I was journeying with goods and stores to the city of Khwarzim, and those whom you see here were my ser­vants that attended me. In my disposition I was so great a miser that I never gave away in charity a single farthing of my money, nor one rag of apparel, nor a morsel of food, nay, not even a drop of water would I bestow on my fellow creatures. These my attendants, on the other hand, were wont to give of their food to the hungry, and they clothed the naked, and bestowed their gold in charity upon the poor and the needy, and all such as were destitute. I used to chide them severely, saying, ‘Pray, sirs, for what purpose do you thus squander your money, and give away your food without any return?’ Their reply was, ‘This we do as a service acceptable to our Creator, and due to our fellow creatures; a service of which we shall receive the reward and reap the advantages in a future state.’ On receiving from them such answers, I used to beat them, and often did I threaten them with punishment on account of their libera lity. I also argued with them, but to no effect; and when­ever any of them ventured to give me salutary advice, I paid not the least regard to him.

“On our journey a gang of robbers surrounded and overpowered us, and seized the whole of my property. They then murdered myself and all my attendants, and having buried us in this spot, they departed. Here we rest like martyrs: but my servants are, as you observe, crowned with glory for their charitable and generous disposition; and I, on account of my baseness and avarice, am plunged into the lowest depth of misery. After the robbers had murdered us it was their intention to mutilate and leave exposed our corpses; but one of them said: ‘Have you not already seized their property, and slain them without cause? How inhuman then it would be to leave them unburied on the highway? Do you imagine that after such a savage deed you can ever enjoy the least portion of their wealth?’ The robbers listened to this address, and accordingly intered us in this desert.

“In my native country, my grand children and descendants are now living in a state of abject poverty. My resi­dence was in the capital of China, in such a quarter (here he described the street and the house), and in a certain cham­ber of the house is buried an immense treasure in gold and jewels, of which no one has any information. This too is an instance of my avaricious disposition, and accounts for the state in which you now behold me. See what an exalted rank my servants have attained! They are seated upon thrones; they fare upon the most delicious food, and drink of the purest and coolest streams, and are clothed in the apparel of angels, while I am doomed to suffer the pangs of misery and despair.”

Hatim, on hearing this account, addressed him, saing, “Is it anyhow possible to administer to your relief?” Yusuf replied: “Many a long year have I now passed in this state of torment, but no one has hitherto listened to my cries. This night you have approached me, and compas­sionately interested yourself in my condition; on you, then, God the Supreme will bestow His guidance in your endeavours to serve me. Proceed forthwith to the capital of China, and find out my residence, which is in the division occupied by the linen merchants. My name, as I told you, is Yusuf, and in my day I was notorious in all quarters of the city, and my grandchildren are still there in a state of destitution. When you arrive at my residence, inform them of my condition, and tell them that in a certain apartmen (which he particularly described) is buried a vast treasure of gold and jewels. This treasure you shall bring to light, and divide into four equal proportions. Bestow one of these shares on my grandchildren, and the other three you shall expend in charitable deeds; in feeding the hungry, in cloth­ing the naked, and in administering to the distress of the poor and the needy. Do this, and perhaps my doom may be averted; for though I have suffered martyrdom, I am not entitled to salvation, so heinous is the crime of avarice; whereas my servants, on account of their liberality, are now in a state of happiness.”

Hatim solemnly promised, in the name of his Creator, that he would strictly perform what Yusuf desired him, and added: “I should no longer consider myself of the tribe of Tai, had I refused to lend you my aid in your distress.” Hatim remained there during the whole of the night, and witnessed what happiness the servants enjoyed, while their wretched master passed his time in weeping and lamenta­tion. When the morning began to dawn the martyrs vanished from his sight, each into his silent cell.

Hatim then set out on his journey for the capital of China, and after he had advanced a considerable way, he arrived at the mouth of a well. There he espied a man in the act of drawing water; and as he was about a request of him to have some to drink, suddenly a serpent as large as the proboscis of an elephant reared its head from the water, and coiling itself round the body of the man, plunged with him into the deep. Hatim wrung his hands in agony, and exclaimed, “Alas! what a deed this snake has perpetrated! It has destroyed a poor man who came hither for water, and whose wife and children are anxiously expecting his return. Oh, Hatim! shall it be said that poor man was deprived of life, and you standing by without lending him the least assistance? What will be your answer hereafter in the presence of your Creator?”

Thus he soliloquized, and instantly plunged into the water. In a short time he fixed his feet on firm ground, and on opening his eyes he was astonished in finding neither the well nor the water; but instead of these a spacious plain opened to his view, abouding with beautiful trees, in the midst of which he espied a lofty palace. He approached it, wondering within himself whither the serpent could have gone with the waterman, and whence sprung up the noble mansion that stood before him.

Hatim, with these thoughts occupying his mind, came close to the palace. There he beheld splendid galaries with elegant couches, and a throne brilliant as crystal surmounted with piles of cushions, on which lay asleep, a monstrous creature of human form in stature like a giant. Hatim resolved on calling this monster to account for the snake and the waterman, but the same time he hesitated as he nowhere beheld any traces either of the serpent or the man. “At all events,” said Hatim to himself, “I shall approach him, and see what sort of subject he is.” Hatim went up to the giant, and as the latter was still asleep, he quietly took his seat beside him. He had not sat long when he espied in a corner of the garden the very serpent that had carried off the waterman.