Hatim thanked his aged friend and said, in reply to the latter part of his instructions, “My venerable benefactor, if our life be not decreed, we cannot live; and till the hour appointed by fate, we cannot die. Do you really advise me to shun the path that is short, and hold to that which is circuitous?” The old man smiled and said, “O Hatim, have you not heard what the poet saith?

“Take the road that is safe, though it be long;
“Marry not a shrew, even if she seem and angel.”

“Farewell, my brave and generous friend, and let me warn you of your danger, if you follow not my directions.’, Hatim having taken his leave, proceeded on his way; and in the course of a few days, as he was approaching a large city, the sound of drums and trumpets reached his ear. It seemed as if the inhabitants were in the celebration of some grand festival; and when he drew nearer he found them assembled without the walls in a spacious plain, which was every where adorned with finely embroidered sofas and couches. In the midst of the assembly was a constellation of beauti­ful damsels, some enchanting the heart with their melodious song, and others occupied in the graceful movements of the dance. In another part of the plain were fires, and all the utensils of cookery employed in dressing food.

At length Hatim mingled with the joyful throng, and began to ask one of them what was the cause of such pleasure and mirth. “Stranger,” said they, “our city is every year visited by a formidable dragon which on the occasion transforms himself into a human shape. We are compelled, on pain of death and destruction, to allow this dragon to carry off his choice of the fairest of our daughters, whether rich or poor. Those that are most beautiful are led forth to these tents, arrayed in fine apparel, adorned with costly jewels, and having their hands perfumed with fragrant scents. The monster in human shape enters the tent where the damsels are assembled, and carries off her on whom his choice rests. We are forced to make this show of joy though our hearts are sad, for the appointed day is arrived, and heaven knows who is to be victim. We thus celebrate the nuptials ere we know who is the bride, but for the next seven days our joy is converted into grief and lamentation.”

On hearing this strange circumstance, Hatim concluded that the dragon must be one of the genii. He said to them, “Is it not madness in you to mimic joy at your own destruction?” — “How can we act otherwise,” they replied, “who is the man that can deliver us from our calamity?”— “Be of good cheer,” returned Hatim, “this night I will endeavour, by the aid of heaven, to rid you for ever of your evil.” When the people heard this promise, hopeless as it was, they informed their king and grandees of the stranger’s presence. Hatim was quickly introduced to the foot of the throne; and after the usual salutation, the king asked him, “Are you aware, brave stranger of the nature of this calamity with which we are afflicted? You say you can avert the impending evil; if you will do so, it will be to me and my subjects the greatest of blessings.”

In reply, Hatim gave the following instructions to the king: “When the dragon has come and made his choice of your daughters, say to him, that a neighbouring prince has just arrived in your city; that he has enjoined upon you not to give away your daughters on any account without his permission. Say further, if the dragon threatens destruction to you and your city, that you will rather bear the consequences of his anger than offend the stranger prince.” The king and his ministers assented to this proposal, and for the whole of that day detained Hatim in their society. Towards evening the dragon approached as usual; and when Hatim was informed of the fact, he asked permission of the king to go and see the monster. The whole assembly came out to see the arrival of the dragon, the size of which was immense. Hatim stood astonished when he saw its head reared aloft like a tall tree, and the stones crushed into powder beneath its weight.

At length the dragon reached the tents, and in presence of the terrified assembly, lashed the ground with his tail; and having performed some fearful contortions, he assumed a human shape. The people then crowded round him to proffer their salutations, and the king invited him to his palace, and place him upon his own throne. After they had partaken of food and drink, the genius rose up and commanded them to produce their daughters. “Let us proceed to the tent which they at present occupy,” said the king. The genius entered the tent, and after the examina­tion, his choice rested upon the king’s only daughter, who was by far the fairest in the city. He came out and made known his choice to the king, who immediately started his objections, saying, “A prince of great power has for some time resided at my court, and if I do ought without his ensent, he will assuredly destroy both myself and my sub­jects from off the face of the earth. I must therefore, in the first place, consult him ere I allow one of our daughters to be carried off; if I receive his permission, good; if not, I will oppose your claim.”

The genius, enraged at such opposition, commanded the king forthwith to produce this daring stranger. Hatim was accordingly conducted before the king of the genii, who thus addressed him: “Brave prince of Yemen, I rejoice to meet you; it is now some time since I have seen you or even heard of your name. Tell me whence come you at present, and what is your object in exciting the people of this city to rebel against me? Do you really wish that I should destroy them in my wrath?”— “I am far from desiring what you state,” replied Hatim, “but the people of this country are now my subjects, and therefore they are right in withholding their allegiance from other powers. I am most willing however, to bestow on you the late king’s daughter, provided you comply with the ancient customs of my country.”— “Your request is but fair,” replied the prince of the genii; “let me hear, then, what these customs are?”— “The first,” said Hatim, “is this: I have a talis­man which once belonged to a wise and illustrious ancestor. It is necessary, then, as a pledge of friendship, that you drink water from a cup of that talisman.”

To this proposal the prince of the genii expressed his assent, and Hatim took a cupfull of water, and dipped into it the potent muhra of the bear’s daughter, after which he gave the draught to the genius to drink. The charm took effect, for no sooner had the genius drained the cup, than by the decree of the most High, he was deprived of all his enhantment, and his power was reduced to that of an ordinary mortal. Hatim again said to him, “The next ordeal you must undergo, is to enter this large jar and remain for some time shut within it. If you do this, you shall have the king’s daughter; and otherwise, you must pay instead, a thousand rubies, a thousand diamonds, and a pearl of the murghab.”

The genius prided himself on his skill in magic, and his supernatural power; he therefore accepted the proposal without hesitation. Hatim brought a large jar, and told him to enter. The genius entered the jar, and Hatim imme­diately shut the mouth of it; and having pronounced the sacred charm of the blessed Khizr, the lid of the jar became firm as a rock of adament. He then called to the prince of genii to come out, but it was no longer in his power to do so. Hatim ordered the people to collect a large quantity of dried wood; and having piled up the same around the jar, he set fire to it. The genius now found himself undone; for as soon as he felt the heat, he made every effort in his power to break the jar and effect his escape. His attempts were fruitless, for in a very short time his life was consumed, and the jar was cast into a deep pit, and covered over with earth and stones.

Hatim then addressed the people, saying, “Rejoice my friends, for your enemy shall no more harass your country.” The king and of all the people proffered their gratitude to Hatim, and presented to him gold and jewels, and whatever was rare and valuable. “I covet not such gifts as you offer me,” said Hatim, “they are of no service to me at present, but I will accept them of your hands, and distribute them among the poor and destitute of the city.” Every house in the city resounded with the praise of Hatim’s wisdom, beneficence, and generosity. For three days they detained him, and vied with each other in doing him most service; and short, the whole country was one scene of joy and festivity.

On the fourth day Hatim took leave, and returned his face to the road. In the course of time he arrived at the foot on the mountain which the old man had described. He Passed on without any interruption and came to the desert, where he found abundance of sweet water, and witnessed many of the wonders of the creation. After he had passed through the desert, he came to the spot where the road separated in two directions. Here he unfortunately forgot the old man’s advice for he really intended to take the safe road though circuitous. “I must never,” said he to himself “disregard the advice of the wise, and the old man earnestly advised me to take the right-hand path.” Hatim accord­ingly proceeded rapidly on his way but he soon changed his mind, and turned a side in order to find the left hand road. He soon found himself involved in a forest abounding with underwood of thorns and brambles, so that every step he took was attended with difficulty. He had not long advanced when the clothes were torn to a thousand pieces from off his body; and bitterly did he regret his disregard of the old man’s directions.

Hatim at length, after vast labour, got clear of the forest; but no sooner did he appear in the open plain than thousands of griffins rushed upon him from all quarters. Hatim stood terrified at the sight, for those animals had a most frightful appearance, in some measure resembling a tiger, a dog, and a fox, as if these three animals had been formed into one. When the griffins were about to devour Hatim, on a sudden and old man stood by him, and said, “They who disregard the admonitions of the wise, end in distress and misery.”— “Forgive me, venerable man,” said Hatim, “I have grievously erred.”— “Lose no time,” said the old man, “in using the talisman of the bear’s daughter: cast it on the ground before us.”

Hatim immediately produced the precious muhra; and the moment he threw it upon the plain, the old man vanished from his sight. The effect of the muhra was wonderful: the ground assumed a yellow hue, it then became black as night; after that, it changed into green: and lastly, it became red as fire. Meanwhile the griffin were diverted from their attack upon Hatim, and ran furiously at one another. The fight was terrible, and in the course of a few minutes they all perished by mutual slaughter. Hatim looked with astonishment at the carnage, and praised the great Creator for his deliverance. He then took up his talisman prepared for his journey.

As he advanced, he came to a desert of solid brass, ‘the vegetation of which consisted of sharp pins of brass and iron. He had no sooner entered the desert than thousands of those pins pierced his feet. Onward he limped, however; and in the agony of pain, he said to himself “O Hatim, it becomes thee suffer calamity without murmur, for what avails regret at present.” He proceeded thus for some time, while the soles of his feet were pierced like a sieve, and he at length thought he could see the extremity of the desert, when on a sudden dragons of immense size and terrible aspect rushed from all quarters to devour him. The dragon bore a mixed resemblance to the eagle, the tiger, and the fox: their tails resembled that of the jackal, but infinitely longer, and their feet resembled those of the eagle. Hatim cast a look of despair all around him, and was about to bid adieu to life, when the old man stood by him, and having taken him by the hand, said, “Be brave; does it become Hatim to fear?”— “Wonderful man!” replied Hatim, “it is not in man to behold these monsters and refrain from trembling.”— “Have recourse to your talisman,” said the old man. Hatim drew out the sacred muhra, and cast it upon the ground. The effect was such as he had lately witnessed; for the dragons stood abashed, and the colour of the ground was changed, and when it became red, the monsters furiously encountered one another till not one of them was left alive.