Hatim’s journey to the desert and city of Himyar— His interview with Hamir, and his return to the city of Shahabad.

THE historians have informed us, that when Hatim set out on his journey from Shahabad he had not the least idea in what direction he ought to proceed All he knew of the man in question was, that he dwelt in the city of Himyar; he therefore placed his reliance upon divine Provi­dence, and continued his route to the north. When a month had thus passed, the summit of a mountain appeared in the distant horizon. Thither Hatim directed his steps, and when he arrived at the foot of the mountain, he heard a voice loudly exclaiming in the world of the following hemistich: “Come, Oh come, I can no longer endure thy absence.”

Hatim began to ascend the mountain till he saw a wide-spreading and shady tree, underneath which was placed a sofa formed of marble. On the sofa reclined a young man fair of countenance, holding in his hand a branch of the tree, and his eyes shut as it were in a state of abstraction, exclaiming, at short intervals, “Come, Oh come, I can no longer endure thy absence.” When Hatim saw him, he wondered within himself how a human being could have taken up his residence in such a solitary spot: he therefore resolved to ask him the cause of his sorrow. He went up close to the youth, and said, “Friend, tell me what is the nature of your grief?” The young man continued in the same state of listlessness without taking the least notice of Hatim’s inquiry, but uttered another exclamation in the words above given. Again Hatim addressed him, but received no reply; and very shortly after, he for the third time asked him, saying, “Strange youth, surely you are deaf; thrice have I requested to know the cause of your sorrow, and you have returned me no answer: am I forsooth not to be considered by you as a man, and a servant of the Almighty?” The youth opened his eyes, and seeing Hatim, said to him, “My good friend, whence come you; what is your business with me, and what is the subject of your inquiries?”— “You and I,” replied Hatim, “are of the same species, perhaps I may be able to contribute to your relief.” — “Alas!” rejoined the other, “many a one like you has come here, and having teased me with questions respecting my condition, have abandoned me; but no one has hitherto made any effort to relieve me: may I then request that you too will go your way?” Hatim still persevered, saying, “As you have told your tale to so many, I beg, for heaven’s sake, that you will let me also hear it.”— “Sit down then for a moment,” said the young man, “till I relate to you my history.”

Hatim reclined beneath the shade of the tree, and the youth thus proceeded with his tale: “I am a merchant. Once I was journeying with my caravan towards the empire of Rum, and at a certain spot on the road near this mountain I desired my attendants to move onwards, while I remained admiring the surrounding scenery, after which I should soon overtake them. My caravan accordingly proceeded, and I began to climb the mountain; but the higher I went, the greater became my desire to reach its summit. At length I stopped to rest underneath this tree; when, lo! a damsel unparalleled in beauty of countenance and elegance of form, presented herself to my view. The moment I beheld this ravisher of hearts, reason abandoned my soul, and senseless I fell on the ground. The moon-faced damsel approached me, and raising my head upon her lap, besprinkled my face with rose water of sweet fragrance. When I returned to my senses, and found my head reclining upon the lap of this Houri, heavens! had I a thousand hearts, her beauty would have robbed me of them all. I stood up, and asked her, ‘Fairest of damsels, who are you, and from what cause do you dwell in this solitude?’— ‘I am a fairy’ she replied, ‘and this mountain is my residence: I have long wished to see one of the human race such as you are, and this day the desire of my heart has been realized.’ In short, I became so fascinated with the charms of this fairy angel, that I lost all thoughts of my caravan, my home, my mer­chandise, and myself. She smiled so irresistibly sweet, that she entangled my heart in the intricate fetters of her waving ringlets.

“After I had lived three months in the enjoyment of her society, I one day said to her, ‘why should we thus spend our lives in solitude? It would be far better for us to remove to the city, and there pass our time in the midst of pleasure.’ To this the fairy replied, ‘If such is your wish, I am satisfied; and I shall willingly accompany you as soon as I can get permission to quit this place. Meanwhile I must leave you for a short time, and you must not stir hence till my return; remain underneath this same tree till I rejoin you, when we shall set out together for your city.’ I then said to her, ‘How long will you be absent?’— ‘Within seven days,’ she answered, ‘I shall certainly return; and, I repeat, beware of moving hence till I come, otherwise you will have cause to repent.’

“It is now seven years since the fairy left me and on, account of her injunctions and my promise, I durst not, during that period, go away anywhere, lest in my absence my beloved should have returned, and not finding me here she should have cause to be angry with me. But, in fact, my strength is now so reduced that I cannot proceed in search of her, having lived for so long a time on the leaves of trees and water from the fountain. I may verily say, that to me the earth is hard, and the heaven is far off; I cannot stay, and I dare not go. Many people like yourself have come to me, and on hearing my history have gone their way; and on that account I disregarded your inquiries.”

When the young man had finished his tale, Hatim said to him, “Pray, sir, what is your name?”— “I am called Tamim of Kharzim,” was the reply. “Did the fairy,” rejoined Hatim, “mention to you her name and place of abode?”— “Her name,” replied the other, “is Alkanpari, and her residence is the mountain Alka.”— “When she left you,” continued Hatim, “in what direction did she proceed?”— “She walked to the right,” answered the youth; “but very soon I lost sight of her, and I know not whither she went.”— “Well,” said Hatim, “if you really wish to see that fairy again, come with me, and we shall set off together to the mountain of Alka, and endeavour to find her out.”— “Your proposal is fair,” answered the youth; “but if I depart with you, and during my absence the mistress of my heart should happen to come here, she will return disappointed; my journey will then be of no avail, and I shall not obtain the object of my wish. If it be destined for me ever to meet with her, it must be in this spot; and if otherwise, I am willing to sacrifice my life for the sake of her whom I love.”

When Hatim heard this, tears of pity flowed from his eyes; while he thus addressed the young man: “My good friend, I will myself go to the mountain of Alka, and should it please the Almighty Creator, I shall find out that beauti­ful fairy, and either cause her to return to you, or bring her hither in person: I will depart immediately while you shall remain here, and when I have discovered the dwelling place of Alkanpari, I shall return.”— “Noble sir,” said the youth, in reply, “I have never yet seen any one who would abandon his own affairs in order to serve others; why should you be an exception to this rule? go then and follow your own business.”— “Mistake me not, young man,” said Hatim, “I have devoted my life and property to the service of my fellow-creatures, and so far as either of them may be of use, I am ready to assist the distressed. Be assured, sir, that I now speak sincerely; I have made a vow to God always to speak the truth, and never in my life have I uttered a falsehood; trust me then, and remain here till I return.”

The young man promised that, as long as life remained in his body, he would not leave that spot; and Hatim bidding him farewell, recommended him to the care of God, and departed. He proceeded in the direction which the fairy had gone, and for the whole of that day had his eyes bent towards the top of the mountain; but he no sooner approached the summit, than another still higher appeared beyond it. He passed onwards to the higher mountain, which he began to ascend. Its side abounded with ever­green trees and shady groves. At length he came to a spot overshadowed by four aged and wide-spreading trees, under­neath which were placed seats both neat and clean. Hatim reclined on one of these couches, and as the breezes were cool and refreshing, he soon fell sleep. In the midst of his slumbers four fairies came and sat down beside him, and when they discovered that the sleeper was one of Adam’s race, they said one to another, “How has this young man found his way hither? Let us question him as to the object of his journey.”

One of the four fairies having awaked Hatim, said to him, “Pray, tell us, young man, how have you arrived here, and on what account are you come?” Hatim opened his eyes, and on seeing the fairies, replied, “I have travelled hither, under the guidance of my Creator, in search of Alkanpari, who resides in the mountain of Alka. That beautiful fairy has captured the heart of a youth by name Tamim, whom she one day left underneath a tree, promising to return in the course of seven days; and, lo! the youth has there waited seven years in expectation of her. The miserable wretch is now in the agonies of death; and I am going to expostulate with the fairy for her cruelty and insincerity, for to make a promise and not to fulfil it, is a proceeding unbecoming the noble.”

To this the fairies replied, “Alkanpari is sovereign of the mountain of Alka, how is it possible that she could have pledged herself to hold an interview with one of your race? In truth, you are mad to say so, and it is our duty to put you to instant death.”— “If such be my fate,” returned Hatim, “I am resigned.” The fairies relenting, said to him, “If you will pass some days in our society and enter­tain us with your conversation, we shall conduct you to the mountain of Alka.”— “I agree,” said Hatim, “particularly as I have no other resource, and the success of my present journey must depend upon you.” The fairy damsels then presented him with food, and treated him most hospitably with every kind of eatable that he could desire. When the stipulated period had elapsed, Hatim requested to be conducted on his way by his fair entertainers, who readily accompanied him during the space of seven days, and then took leave, saying, “Beyond this spot we dare not advance: you must hold by the path towards the right hand till you come in sight of a mountain, at the foot of which there are two roads; but there you must again take that which leads to the right, and you will thereby arrive at the mauntain of Alka.”