When they entered the city Hatim stopped at caravan­serai, and the youth proceeded with the birds, and delivered them to the magician, who was much surprised in seeing them, and questioned him, saying, “Young man, is this your own doing? If so, tell me truly in what part of the world are such birds to be found?” The youth, without hesitation, replied, “In the desert of Mazanderan.” The magician then asked him various particulars about the road thither, all of which he was enabled to answer satisfactorily from what Hatim had told him. “You are right,” said the magician; “so much for the first condition. Now procure me the muhra which is in the mouth of the red dragon.” The youth said, in reply, “Let me for one moment view the face of her whom I adore, for otherwise I shall not have even the power of moving.” To this the magician agreed, and sent a message to his daughter, desiring her to hold her head out at the window, and favour her lover with one look. The young man, in transports, presented him­self under her window, and the lady leaning out her head as permitted, cheered him with her smiles. After they had viewed each other with the looks of affection, the youth said, “Now I am about to depart in quest of the muhra which is in the mouth of the red dragon; can you inform me where it is to be found?”— “I have heard,” replied the lady, “that it is in the Red desert, which is in the regions of the mountain Kaf.”

The youth, on hearing this, took leave of his beloved, and hastened to Hatim, to whom he communicated all that had passed. Hatim conforted him, and said, “Cease your weeping and lamentation, for I will use every exertion for your relief: may God preserve you till my return.” Having thus spoken, Hatim parted with his friend and commenced his journey to the mountain of Kaf. After he had passed many a stage he arrived in a wilderness, where he one day at dawn espied a dragon streaked with the seven colours of the rainbow, and having wings like those of an eagle, with which he hovered in all directions over the desert.

On beholding this terrific sight, Hatim stood aghast, while he said in his heart, “I have ere now traversed deserts and mountains like those around me; but such a creature as this I never saw before: I must keep a strict watch on his movements, in order, if possible, to discover his haunt.” Hatim followed the dragon for the whole of that day, and at eve the winged monster took refuge in the cleft of a rock near which Hatim also rested, resolved to observe the proceedings of so wonderful a creature. In that same neighbourhood there was a village, the inhabitants of which were then coming out for water to a fountain close by the rock. When they saw Hatim they discovered that he was a stranger, and hospitably offered him bread and water, on which he fared, and on their inviting him to their village, he said he preferred resting for the night beneath a tree close by.

Meanwhile the people returned to their dwellings, leaving their cows and flocks at pasture on the verdant plain that lay at the foot of the rock, where the shepherds also remained to tend them for the night. At the end of the first watch, however, the winged serpent issued from his haunt and rushing upon the cattle, he speedily killed them all, one after another, with his venomous sting; nor did his devastation there stop short, for on the same nigh the destroyed two troops of horses belonging to a caravan that had halted at the fountain. When Hatim saw this dreadful ravage he wrung his hands in the agony of grief; but, lo! the dragon still thirsting for blood, approached the tree where he stood, and in an instant stung to death those who watched the caravan, and the shepherds that were in attendance; after which, he again vanished into the hole in the rock.

Hatim spent the remainder of the night in a state of sorrow and amazement; and when the dawn of day appeared, the villagers came out to look after their flocks but to their astonishment they beheld the plain strewed with the dead bodies of the shepherds and the carcases of their cows and horses. So deadly was the venom of this destructive monster, that by the dawn of day the flesh was completely dissolved from off the bones, and converted into a liquid of green colour. One of the people speedily conveyed the mournful tidings to the village, whereupon all the inhabitants came out crying and weeping. On seeing Hatim they addressed him, saying “Tell us, stranger, how come you to be here alive, and how has this terrible catastrophe taken place?”— “Alas! my friends,” replied Hatim, “here I have witnessed most horrible deeds, such as I never beheld, or even heard of in my whole life. A seven-coloured dragon, large as an eagle, has committed this slaughter, after which he retired into a hole in the rock, where you may still see him.”

The people accordingly gathered round the mouth of the cavern, and on seeing the dragon they were terrified, and said to one another, “Truly such a formidable animal as this we never yet beheld.” Meanwhile the deadly dragon rushed from his hole in the rock and seizing the chief of the village he pierced him with his envenomed sting till he rolled in the dust and bade adieu to life, amidst the shrieks and tears of his friends and attendants. The dragon then winged his way slowly towards the desert, and Hatim followed close after him, in order to see what might happen next. For the whole of that day he continued his pursuit, and when evening was nigh the dragon halted near a large city while Hatim watched him from a short distance. But wonderful to relate, the dragon had no sooner touched the ground than he was transformed into a black snake, while Hatim stood wrapt in astonish­ment, anxious to know what was to be the result of this change. The black serpent in the meantime coiled himself into a hole till about the end of the first watch of the night, when he issued out and made direct for the city, whither Hatim continued to follow. At length the serpent arrived at the walls of the king’s palace, which he entered by a certain staircase, and ere Hatim could follow returned by the same passage, and made for another house. In a very short time the serpent came out of the latter house also, and quitting the city, retired to his hole. Hatim wondered in his own mind who could have been the victims of that scourge for the night; but with the morning certainty came, for the cries and lamentations of the people soon informed him that the prince and vizier’s son were in the course of the night stung to death by a serpent, and now lay streched on the bier, and were being conveyed to their graves.

In the course of the morning the black snake quitted his hole, and made off in another direction, Hatim all along following, nor for the whole day did he cease his pursuit, till towards night the serpent came to the bank of a river, where he instantly assumed the form of a lion. It happened that close by there was a village, the inhabitants of which, to the number of ten or twelve, were then proceeding, one after the other, to the river to draw water, and among them a most comely youth of the age of sixteen. This youth, the flower of the village, the lion seized upon as his victim, and having torn him to pieces, he again made for the desert, where, to Hatim’s utter amazement, he was transformed into a beautiful damsel of fourteen years of age. When Hatim beheld the damsel, he said in his heart, “May heaven protect me, I wonder what is to happen next.”

But to return to the damsel: she in an instant arrayed herself in splendid apparel and costly jewels, and thus resembling the full moon in beauty, she sat down underneath a tree that stood by the way side. It happened that shortly after two brother soldiers natives of China, who having completed their stipulated period of service were returning loaded with wealth to their own country, passed that way, and on seeing them the damsel commenced a most piteous lamentation. When this voice of sorrow reached their ears, the elder of the two brothers approached the tree, and to his astonishment there beheld the most beautiful of women deeply affected with sorrow and grief. The soldier thus addressed the damsel: “Fairest of women, what calamity has befallen thee that thou art thus forsaken to weep and lament in the solitary desert?”— “I am,” replied the damsel, “the wife of a certain villager: a few days ago I had gone on a visit to my mother’s house, and in returning home along with my husband we lost our way in this wilderness, where I have since wandered. I have not been able to find the way back to my mother’s house, nor do I know in what direction to proceed in quest of my husband or of my own home. Whither my husband is gone heaven only knows; and now what is to become of me, and how am I to live?” The brave soldier, on hearing this sad detail, said to the young woman, “If I were to offer myself as your husband, would you accept me?”— “If you will agree to my three conditions,” answered the damsel, “I will instantly give you my hand. The first condition is, that you shall have no other wife* than myself; the second, that I will be exempt from all household services; and the third is, that you are not to reprimand me for anything I may choose to do.” To this the soldier agreed, saying “I am as yet unmarried, and I solemnly promise to comply with one and all of your conditions. While I live I shall have no other wife but you; and in my house there are slaves male and female in abun­dance, so that you will have no trouble with the household affairs, except to give orders for whatever you wish. Your last condition I believe is superfluous: is it possible that any man can speak harshly to her whom he loves?” The damsel, on hearing this, replied, “Enough said, I will accept you, as my husband,” and accordingly they joined hands; after which the soldier mounted his steed, and taking up his new wife behind him, they departed. Hatim still followed, in order to see the end of these strange occurrences, and when they had gone some distance, the woman said to her husband “I am quite exhausted with hunger and thirst, having tasted no food for the last three days; if you have nothing eatable with you, at least let me have a drink of water.” The soldier immediately dismounted, and having caused his wife to alight, he seated her under the shade of a tree, and leaving his brother in attendance, he took a pitcher in his hand and went in search of water.

The woman watched the movements of her husband till he went to a considerable distance; and then addressing the younger brother, she said, “Know, fair youth, that I have accompanied your brother solely out of my affection for you, for since the moment I saw you I have lost of all control over my heart; now is the time then, make me your own.” The younger soldier, surprised, said to her, in reply. “Are you not my brother’s wife? To me you are as nearly related as a mother or sister; how highly improper then is this your proposal, to which, be assured, I will never agree.”— “What you state,” rejoined the woman, “would have been true were I really your brother’s wife, for then any claim to your affection would have been wrong in me.”— “My dear sister,” interrupted the soldier, “form no such unworthy expectations of me, and banish from your heart such extravagant thoughts.”