Thence marched he quickly and invoking oft
The just World-lord. On reaching the Narmpái
He saw a countless folk who had no steeds,

Or breast plate, sword, or mace, and every one
Was lion-like in form. Now when the host
Neared the Narmpái the world grew black to them;
They roared like rattling thunder, came like dívs
Upon Sikandar, running on their knees,
With martial bodies and contentious hearts,
And showered stones fiercely as the autumn-blasts
Beat on the trees. The Rúman host advanced
With sword and arrow, and thou wouldst have said:—
“Bright day is dimmed.”

When few Narmpái were left

Sikandar rested, then led on the host,
And reached what seemed a boundless city whence
All, as their wont was, went to meet him gladly,
Asked naught but brought all kinds of tapestries,
Of raiment and of provand while Sikandar
Saluted, well received, and honoured them
According to their station. Then he bade
The common folk, the chiefs, and those star-favoured
To carpet all the plain. The sands and soil
Were tricked out with brocade. Upon the waste
They pitched the Sháh's pavilion, and the brave
Took post around. All revelled, Sháh and horsemen.
Thus, as he fleeted time with feast and wine,
Or rest, the host, inured to heat and cold,
Reposed from war. Thereafter ceaselessly
He sought a lucky day whereon to march
Sought for intelligence from all, but none
Gave him auspicious counsel. He observed
A mountain with its summit midst the stars:
Thou wouldst have said: “It will arrest the sky!”
Few were the folk thereon, and none of them
Remained at night. Of these he asked: “What way
Is there, and how must I conduct the host?”
All blessed him, saying: “Famous king of earth!
“The way is o'er the mount if guide could go,
But on its farther side there is a dragon,
Whose grievous venom doth confound the wolf.
Thy troops can pass it not; its venom's fumes
Mount to the moon; flames issue from its maw,
And its two side-locks would avail to snare
An elephant. Our folk can not withstand it.
It needeth for its food five oxen nightly.

We buy, and drive, them on yon rocky mount,
Drive them with care and trouble, lest the dragon
Come hither, and our folk in numbers suffer.”
Sikandar, at the dragon's feeding-time,
Chose troops and bade to give it naught that day.
The dragon, when its hour for battening
Was o'er, came down the pass like fire. Sikandar
Bade his troops shower thereon their arrows swiftly.
That laidly dragon drew one breath and sucked
Some warriors in. The son of Failakús
Bade beat the tymbals and the kettledrums,
Enkindle mighty fires and make a blaze
In every quarter. When the mountain rang
With tymbal-din the monster feared and fled.
When Sol ascended from the Sign of Taurus,
And soared the lark's note from the garths of roses,
The warrior-chieftain brought with him five oxen,
Procured with money from his treasury.
He slew and skinned them, heads and all; his scheme
Gave courage to his friends. He charged the hides
With bane and naphtha, and made speed toward
The dragon. Blowing up the skins he called
Upon the Giver of all good and bade
Men pass the hides along from hand to hand.
As he drew near the dragon it appeared
Black like a cloud, its tongue was livid, its eyes
Seemed blood, its maw belched flame. They cast the
oxen
Down from the mountain-top and closely marked
The dragon, which engorged them, swift as wind,
Or ever they had left those warriors' hands.
Now when its frame was hide-stuffed, and the bane
Had spread throughout its body, it pierced through
The entrails and invaded brains and feet.
The dragon dashed its head on mount and rocks,
And thus a long time lapsed while all the troops
Showered arrows on it till that mountain-form,
That hunter, fell. Thence fared the host with speed,
And left in scorn the dragon's body there.
Sikandar led them to another mountain.
One that amazed the troops. The keen of sight
Could mark its height from far and that its peak
Was like a scimitar-blade and thereupon,
Apart from folk and distant from the throng,
Was set a golden throne. A hoary corpse
Was on it verily still full of grace
In death, palled in brocade, upon its head
A crown of gems of all kinds, and heaped round
With gold and silver. None could pass that way,
For all that scaled the mountain-top to seek
Aught of that corpse began to quake though fearless,
Died, and returned to dust. Sikandar clomb
The mountain-top to view the corpse with all
Its gold and silver, but he heard a voice:—
“O Sháh! thou hast accomplished thy career,
Hast voided many a monarch's throne, exalted
Thy head to heaven, and slaughtered many a foe
And friend. 'Tis time for thee to quit the world.”
Burned like a lamp the Sháh's cheeks as he heard;
He left that mount and with a heart all seared.