Having thus spoken, the demons vanished from Hatim’s sight, while he sat down to repose for the night by the cool fountain. When the dawn of morning appeared, he rose up, and after ablutions, he proceeded on his journey, trusting to Providence alone as his guide. After three days of fasting and constant toil, he arrived, hungry and thirsty, at the banks of a river, the channel of which was formed of the largest and most valuable pearls he had ever seen. His heart longed to possess the pearls, notwithstanding the injunctions he had received to the contrary; but, on farther reflection, he controlled his fatal desire, and satisfied him­self by quenching his thirst in the running stream, which was extremely pure and refreshing.

Hatim thence set out, and shortly after, he saw before him the clouds rising from the horizon with uncommon brilliancy, resembling a canopy of burnished gold. For a whole month he continued to advance in this direction; and at length he saw the summit of the golden mountain, rising with dazzling grandeur among the clouds. Having reached the base of the mountain, he found it covered with trees and shrubs, of which the foliage and fruit were all of golden hue. For three days he ascended towards the summit; and on the fourth day he entered a garden, whose beauty equalled that of paradise. The trees were loaded with golden apples, every leaf and every plant in the garden was tinged with the hue of gold.

After Hatim had enjoyed the charms of this beautiful scene, and appeased his thirst from fountains of pure water which issued from rocks of gold studded with the most precious gems, he sat down to repose for the night. Mean­while a troop of fairies surrounded him; and when Hatim saw them, his heart rejoiced, for the fairest of the band greatly resembled Zarīnpash. He said to them, “Heavenly creatures, tell me who are you?”— “We are,” replied one of them, “the devoted subjects of Zarīnpash, the fairy queen, who now walks in this garden, and who will very soon pass this way.”

Shortly after the queen approached, and the moment Hatim beheld her lovely countenance, his senses entirely forsook him, and he fell lifeless upon the ground. Zarīnpash quickly ordered her attendants to bring rose-water, which she sprinkled over his face and body. After this, Hatim recovered, when the queen raised him from the ground and seated him on a golden chair close by a throne, which she herself occupied. She then addressed him in the sweetest tone, and said, “Tell me, noble stranger, who are you, and how came you hither?” Hatim related his eventful history; and in return, asked the fairy, “To whom belong these celestial abodes?” “These regions,” she replied, “are called Achīn, which signifies pleasant, and the sovereignty thereof belongs to the king Shahyal, to whom I owe allegiance. It is part of my duty to keep watch in this paradise for a fixed period. My time expires in the course of a week; after which, I return to the royal presence. This mountain, too, is part of Kaf, which forms the boundaries of the earth.”

The fairies hospitably entertained Hatim for four days, and presented to him the best of food and drink. On the fifth day, the queen advised him to depart, on which he took leave, and once more resumed his journey. In two days after, he found himself in a boundless plain beyond the confines of the golden mountain. Forward he marched, night and day; and on the evening of the sixteenth day, he reached the yellow shore of the golden sea. The sand on which he trod was of the finest gold; the waves, too, which rose like mountains towards the skies, were deeply tinged with the same brilliant colour. While Hatim sat musing on the beach, he saw, as formerly, a vessel steering towards land; and at length it came close to where he stood. Hatim stopped into the boat, where he found a basket filled with delicious food; and as he was very hungry, he ate and refreshed his exhausted frame. At the same time his thirst was excessive, and he felt a strong inclination for dipping his hand into the sea in order to drink. He recollected, however, the disaster that had previously befallen him, when his hand was changed into silver; and lest it might this time be converted into gold, he took a goblet, and having filled the same, he drank, and steered his bark from land.

For forty days and nights he sailed onwards without seeing any object but the golden waves and the illumined clouds. At length he reached the shore, and began to traverse the newly discovered regions. Seven days after, he came to a desert of burning sand, hot as the ashes of the newly quenched furnace. He made an effort to advance, but soon found himself unable to stand. He sunk exhausted to the earth; his lips were parched of their moisture, and the whole of his body scorched beyond endurance. In vain did he apply the precious muhra of the bear’s daughter, it produced no good effect whatever.

In this condition, Hatim, unable either to remain or return, tossing from side to side on the fiery sand, was about to bid adieu to life, when the two mysterious beings that had presented him with the precious stones, stood beside him, and having administered to him a draught of cool and refreshing water, recalled his departing soul. When Hatim recovered his senses, and saw the two demons before him, he said “To you my debt of gratitude is indeed heavy, for verily your aid has been opportune.”— “Brave Hatim,” they rejoined, “it is part of our duty to direct the stranger on his way. You must therefore advance through this desert till you reach the fiery ocean, which you must cross, as you have lately crossed the other seas; and should it please the Great Creator, you will thereafter soon arrive in your own country. Meanwhile accept this talisman, and when you feel the heat oppressive, take the talisman in your mouth, and the fire shall have no power over you. When arrived on the farther side, cast the talisman into the fiery ocean, and proceed on your journey.”

Hatim took the talisman in his mouth, and advanced for three days amidst the burning sand, when at last the flames of the fire so increased that it appeared as if the heavens and the earth were mingled in one blaze. He stood still for some minutes, and found himself on the brink of the fiery ocean. Here his courage failed, for he saw not the possibility of surmounting this last barrier. At length a boat was seen to emerge from the flaming billows, but even then Hatim hesitated whether to enter; for, said he, “How can I, with my eyes open and my sense sound, entrust myself to a frail bark on a sea of liquid fire.” Again he reflected, “After all this is my only escape; and if I wish to succeed in my enterprise, I must brave this danger at last; and if it is the will of the great and wise Creator to spare my life, he is able to protect me in the midst of the flames.”

Hatim entered the vessel, which began forthwith to cleave its way through the flaming waves. Dreadful was his situation; and though the fire hurt him not, still he drust not open his eyes from fear of the glare of light that surrounded him. Three weeks after the commencement of this perilous voyage, he felt his bark tossed round with amazing rapidity in the midst of a raging whirlpool. Hatim now felt assured that his last hour was arrived, for should his boat be swallowed up in this fiery gulf, how could he effect his escape. He still sat with his eyes closed, recom­mending his soul to the protection of heaven, when to the vessel sunk from beneath him, and he found himself floating swiftly along the current. Hatim in this helpless state resigned himself to fate. Over his eyes were drawn the curtains of despair, and his head touched the knee of anguish. For three days and night he was thus tossed along the billows of the fiery ocean, till at length the waves cast him almost lifeless on solid ground.

Hatim shortly after ventured to open his eyes, thinking that he was still on the sea shore, but no trace could he see of the flaming billows, nor of the dazzling lights that lately enveloped him. He stood up, and threw away the talisman given him by the two genii, after which he began to explore the surrounding country. He soon dis­covered, to his great joy, that he was in his native land of Yemen; and seeing a peasant standing beside a field of corn, he went up to him, and said, “Tell me, my good man, what is the name of this country, and who is its sovereign” The peasant, instead of replying, stood motion­less with his eyes fixed on the countenance of him who bore such resemblance to his beloved prince. “Are you deaf, my friend,” resumed Hatim, “or are you unwilling to answer a plain question?”— “Forgive me, noble sir,” said the peasant, “but you look so like the brave and generous Hatim, that the joy of once more beholding my prince has deprived my tongue of utterance.”

Hatim, without discovering himself, continued his con­versation with the peasant, and said “Who is this Hatim you speak of, and what do you know of him?”— “He is,” replied the peasant, “my true and beloved prince; for you must know, stranger, that this is the kingdom of Yemen, of which Taï is sovereign. The heir apparent to the throne is the noble Hatim, who seven years ago left his paternal domains to travel through strange countries. Once only in that long period hath he gladdened our hearts with tidings of his welfare, by letters brought to his father by the youthful queen Zarīnposh.”

Having thus spoken the peasant was about to depart, when Hatim addressed him, saying “Stay, my good subject, I am indeed Hatim, the son of Taï; and if you wish to do me a favour, go to my father’s hall and assure himself and my mother of my welfare, and my unimpaired affection towards them. But first of all, tell me where I may quench my thirst, for I am wearied with travelling.” The peasant quickly ran to his cottage, and having brought the best food and drink he could procure, he presented the same to his prince. After Hatim had refreshed himself, he stood for some minutes intently looking towards his father’s capital which was situated close by. At length he turned round, and addressing the peasant, who stood at a respectful distance waiting his further commands, he said, “My good friend, accept my thanks for your hospitality. Remember my request, and say to my father that my time is pressing, for I am journeying to Shahabad. I trust I shall soon be able to return to my native country no more to wander.”

Shortly after, Hatim arrived safely in the city of Shaha­bad. When the people of Husn Banu saw him they conveyed him with the highest respect to the gate of their fair sovereign. Husn Banu, informed of Hatim’s arrival, hastily threw on her veil, and gave orders for his admission into the palace. After mutual salutations, Husn Banu asked of Hatim the account of his long journey, the events of which he minutely detailed from beginning to end. After he had finished his narrative, the fair queen said to him, “Brave prince of Yemen, I am satisfied that what you have stated is strictly true; but have you nothing to shew in confirmation,” Hatim produced the ruby, the diamond, and the emerald which the two genii had permitted him to bring from Nida, and presented the same to Husn Banu, saying, “These are ample proofs of what I have related; and I may add, that when my right hand was transformed into a mass of silver, and when, on washing in the fountain, it was again restored to its original form, my nails still retained the hue of silver, as you now behold. On drinking from the golden sea, four of my teeth were transformed into pure gold, and, as you see, still continue so.”

Husn Banu expressed her admiration of Hatim’s bravery and constancy, and with her own hands presented him with food and drink. Hatim tasted slightly of her bounty, and said that he longed to see his friend the Assyrian prince. He therefore hastened to the Mihmanserai, where he found Munīr. He gave his friend every consolation in his power, saying, “Be of good cheer, for now there are only two questions to solve, and God will grant success. Three days thus passed, after which Hatim presented himself before Husn Banu, and said, “Tell me, fair lady, what is your sixth question?”— “I have a pearl here,” replied Husn Banu, “as large as a duck’s egg: bring another equal to it.”— Hatim requested to see the pearl; and having got an exact model of it made of silver, he deposited the same in his turban. Having then taken leave of Husn Banu and the Assyrian prince Munīr, he set out on his sixth jorney.