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Once upon
a time...
Caliph Chasid, of Bagdad, was resting comfortably on his
divan one fine afternoon. He was smoking a long pipe, and from time
to time he sipped a little coffee which a slave handed to him, and
after each sip he stroked his long beard with an air of enjoyment.
In short, anyone could see that the Caliph was in an excellent
humour. This was, in fact, the best time of day in which to approach
him, for just now he was pretty sure to be both affable and in good
spirits, and for this reason the Grand Vizier Mansor always chose
this hour in which to pay his daily visit.
He arrived as usual this afternoon, but, contrary to his usual
custom, with an anxious face. The Caliph withdrew his pipe for a
moment from his lips and asked, 'Why do you look so anxious, Grand
Vizier?'
The Grand Vizier crossed his arms on his breast and bent low before
his master as he answered:
'Oh, my Lord! whether my countenance be anxious or not I know not,
but down below, in the court of the palace, is a pedlar with such
beautiful things that I cannot help feeling annoyed at having so
little money to spare.'
The Caliph, who had wished for some time past to give his Grand
Vizier a present, ordered his black slave to bring the pedlar before
him at once. The slave soon returned, followed by the pedlar, a
short stout man with a swarthy face, and dressed in very ragged
clothes. He carried a box containing all manner of wares-- strings
of pearls, rings, richly mounted pistols, goblets, and combs. The
Caliph and his Vizier inspected everything, and the Caliph chose
some handsome pistols for himself and Mansor, and a jewelled comb
for the Vizier's wife. Just as the pedlar was about to close his
box, the Caliph noticed a small drawer, and asked if there was
anything else in it for sale. The pedlar opened the drawer and
showed them a box containing a black powder, and a scroll written in
strange characters, which neither the Caliph nor the Mansor could
read.
'I got these two articles from a merchant who had picked them up in
the street at Mecca,' said the pedlar. 'I do not know what they may
contain, but as they are of no use to me, you are welcome to have
them for a trifle.'
The Caliph, who liked to have old manuscripts in his library, even
though he could not read them, purchased the scroll and the box, and
dismissed the pedlar. Then, being anxious to know what might be the
contents of the scroll, he asked the Vizier if he did not know of
anyone who might be able to decipher it.
'Most gracious Lord and master,' replied the Vizier, 'near the great
Mosque lives a man called Selim the learned, who knows every
language under the sun. Send for him; it may be that he will be able
to interpret these mysterious characters.'
The learned Selim was summoned immediately.
'Selim,' said the Caliph, 'I hear you are a scholar. Look well at
this scroll and see whether you can read it. If you can, I will give
you a robe of honour; but if you fail, I will order you to receive
twelve strokes on your cheeks, and five-and-twenty on the soles of
your feet, because you have been falsely called Selim the learned.'
Selim prostrated himself and said, 'Be it according to your will, oh
master!' Then he gazed long at the scroll. Suddenly he exclaimed:
'May I die, oh, my Lord, if this isn't Latin !'
'Well,' said the Caliph, 'if it is Latin, let us hear what it
means.'
So Selim began to translate: 'Thou who mayest find this, praise
Allah for his mercy. Whoever shall snuff the powder in this box, and
at the same time shall pronounce the word "Mutabor!" can transform
himself into any creature he likes, and will understand the language
of all animals. When he wishes to resume the human form, he has only
to bow three times towards the east, and to repeat the same word. Be
careful, however, when wearing the shape of some beast or bird, not
to laugh, or thou wilt certainly forget the magic word and remain an
animal for ever.'
When Selim the learned had read this, the Caliph was delighted. He
made the wise man swear not to tell the matter to anyone, gave him a
splendid robe, and dismissed him. Then he said to his Vizier,
'That's what I call a good bargain, Mansor. I am longing for the
moment when I can become some animal. To-morrow morning I shall
expect you early; we will go into the country, take some snuff from
my box, and then hear what is being said in air, earth, and water.'
II.
Next morning Caliph Chasid had barely finished dressing, and
breakfasting, when the Grand Vizier arrived, according to orders, to
accompany him in his expedition. The Caliph stuck the snuff-box in
his girdle, and, having desired his servants to remain at home,
started off with the Grand Vizier only in attendance. First they
walked through the palace gardens, but they looked in vain for some
creature which could tempt them to try their magic power. At length
the Vizier suggested going further on to a pond which lay beyond the
town, and where he had often seen a variety of creatures, especially
storks, whose grave, dignified appearance and constant chatter had
often attracted his attention.
The Caliph consented, and they went straight to the pond. As soon as
they arrived they remarked a stork strutting up and down with a
stately air, hunting for frogs, and now and then muttering something
to itself. At the same time they saw another stork far above in the
sky flying towards the same spot.
'I would wager my beard, most gracious master,' said the Grand
Vizier, 'that these two long legs will have a good chat together.
How would it be if we turned ourselves into storks?'
'Well said,' replied the Caliph; 'but first let us remember
carefully how we are to become men once more. True! Bow three times
towards the east and say "Mutabor!" and I shall be Caliph and you my
Grand Vizier again. But for Heaven's sake don't laugh or we are
lost!'
As the Caliph spoke he saw the second stork circling round his head
and gradually flying towards the earth. Quickly he drew the box from
his girdle, took a good pinch of the snuff, and offered one to
Mansor, who also took one, and both cried together 'Mutabor!'
Instantly their legs shrivelled up and grew thin and red; their
smart yellow slippers turned to clumsy stork's feet, their arms to
wings; their necks began to sprout from between their shoulders and
grew a yard long; their beards disappeared, and their bodies were
covered with feathers.
'You've got a fine long bill, Sir Vizier,' cried the Caliph, after
standing for some time lost in astonishment. 'By the beard of the
Prophet I never saw such a thing in all my life!'
'My very humble thanks,' replied the Grand Vizier, as he bent his
long neck; 'but, if I may venture to say so, your Highness is even
handsomer as a stork than as a Caliph. But come, if it so pleases
you, let us go near our comrades there and find out whether we
really do understand the language of storks.'
Meantime the second stork had reached the ground. It first scraped
its bill with its claw, stroked down its feathers, and then advanced
towards the first stork. The two newly made storks lost no time in
drawing near, and to their amazement overheard the following
conversation:
'Good morning, Dame Longlegs. You are out early this morning!'
'Yes, indeed, dear Chatterbill! I am getting myself a morsel of
breakfast. May I offer you a joint of lizard or a frog's thigh?'
'A thousand thanks, but I have really no appetite this morning. I am
here for a very different purpose. I am to dance to-day before my
father's guests, and I have come to the meadow for a little quiet
practice.'
Thereupon the young stork began to move about with the most
wonderful steps. The Caliph and Mansor looked on in surprise for
some time; but when at last she balanced herself in a picturesque
attitude on one leg, and flapped her wings gracefully up and down,
they could hold out no longer; a prolonged peal burst from each of
their bills, and it was some time before they could recover their
composure. The Caliph was the first to collect himself. 'That was
the best joke,' said he, 'I've ever seen. It's a pity the stupid
creatures were scared away by our laughter, or no doubt they would
have sung next!'
Suddenly, however, the Vizier remembered how strictly they had been
warned not to laugh during their transformation. He at once
communicated his fears to the Caliph, who exclaimed, 'By Mecca and
Medina! it would indeed prove but a poor joke if I had to remain a
stork for the remainder of my days! Do just try and remember the
stupid word, it has slipped my memory.'
'We must bow three times eastwards and say "Mu...mu...mu..."'
They turned to the east and fell to bowing till their bills touched
the ground, but, oh horror--the magic word was quite forgotten, and
however often the Caliph bowed and however touchingly his Vizier
cried 'Mu...mu...' they could not recall it, and the unhappy Chasid
and Mansor remained storks as they were.
III.
The two enchanted birds wandered sadly on through the meadows. In
their misery they could not think what to do next. They could not
rid themselves of their new forms; there was no use in returning to
the town and saying who they were; for who would believe a stork who
announced that he was a Caliph; and even if they did believe him,
would the people of Bagdad consent to let a stork rule over them?
So they lounged about for several days, supporting themselves on
fruits, which, however, they found some difficulty in eating with
their long bills. They did not much care to eat frogs or lizards.
Their one comfort in their sad plight was the power of flying, and
accordingly they often flew over the roofs of Bagdad to see what was
going on there.
During the first few days they noticed signs of much disturbance and
distress in the streets, but about the fourth day, as they sat on
the roof of the palace, they perceived a splendid procession passing
below them along the street. Drums and trumpets sounded, a man in a
scarlet mantle, embroidered in gold, sat on a splendidly caparisoned
horse surrounded by richly dressed slaves; half Bagdad crowded after
him, and they all shouted, 'Hail, Mirza, the Lord of Bagdad!'
The two storks on the palace roof looked at each other, and Caliph
Chasid said, 'Can you guess now, Grand Vizier, why I have been
enchanted? This Mirza is the son of my deadly enemy, the mighty
magician Kaschnur, who in an evil moment vowed vengeance on me.
Still I will not despair! Come with me, my faithful friend; we will
go to the grave of the Prophet, and perhaps at that sacred spot the
spell may be loosed.'
They rose from the palace roof, and spread their wings toward
Medina.
But flying was not quite an easy matter, for the two storks had had
but little practice as yet.
'Oh, my Lord!' gasped the Vizier, after a couple of hours, 'I can
get on no longer; you really fly too quick for me. Besides, it is
nearly evening, and we should do well to find some place in which to
spend the night.'
Chasid listened with favour to his servant's suggestion, and
perceiving in the valley beneath them a ruin which seemed to promise
shelter they flew towards it. The building in which they proposed to
pass the night had apparently been formerly a castle. Some handsome
pillars still stood amongst the heaps of ruins, and several rooms,
which yet remained in fair preservation, gave evidence of former
splendour. Chasid and his companion wandered along the passages
seeking a dry spot, when suddenly Mansor stood still.
'My Lord and master,' he whispered, 'if it were not absurd for a
Grand Vizier, and still more for a stork, to be afraid of ghosts, I
should feel quite nervous, for someone, or something close by me,
has sighed and moaned quite audibly.'
The Caliph stood still and distinctly heard a low weeping sound
which seemed to proceed from a human being rather than from any
animal. Full of curiosity he was about to rush towards the spot from
whence the sounds of woe came, when the Vizier caught him by the
wing with his bill, and implored him not to expose himself to fresh
and unknown dangers. The Caliph, however, under whose stork's breast
a brave heart beat, tore himself away with the loss of a few
feathers, and hurried down a dark passage. He saw a door which stood
ajar, and through which he distinctly heard sighs, mingled with
sobs. He pushed open the door with his bill, but remained on the
threshold, astonished at the sight which met his eyes. On the floor
of the ruined chamber--which was but scantily lighted by a small
barred window--sat a large screech owl. Big tears rolled from its
large round eyes, and in a hoarse voice it uttered its complaints
through its crooked beak. As soon as it saw the Caliph and his
Vizier--who had crept up meanwhile--it gave vent to a joyful cry. It
gently wiped the tears from its eyes with its spotted brown wings,
and to the great amazement of the two visitors, addressed them in
good human Arabic.
'Welcome, ye storks! You are a good sign of my deliverance, for it
was foretold me that a piece of good fortune should befall me
through a stork.'
When the Caliph had recovered from his surprise, he drew up his feet
into a graceful position, bent his long neck, and said: 'Oh, screech
owl! from your words I am led to believe that we see in you a
companion in misfortune. But, alas! your hope that you may attain
your deliverance through us is but a vain one. You will know our
helplessness when you have heard our story.'
The screech owl begged him to relate it, and the Caliph accordingly
told him what we already know.
IV.
When the Caliph had ended, the owl thanked him and said: 'You hear
my story, and own that I am no less unfortunate than yourselves. My
father is the King of the Indies. I, his only daughter, am named
Lusa. That magician Kaschnur, who enchanted you, has been the cause
of my misfortunes too. He came one day to my father and demanded my
hand for his son Mirza. My father--who is rather hasty--ordered him
to be thrown downstairs. The wretch not long after managed to
approach me under another form, and one day, when I was in the
garden, and asked for some refreshment, he brought me--in the
disguise of a slave--a draught which changed me at once to this
horrid shape. Whilst I was fainting with terror he transported me
here, and cried to me with his awful voice: "There shall you remain,
lonely and hideous, despised even by the brutes, till the end of
your days, or till some one of his own free will asks you to be his
wife. Thus do I avenge myself on you and your proud father."
'Since then many months have passed away. Sad and lonely do I live
like any hermit within these walls, avoided by the world and a
terror even to animals; the beauties of nature are hidden from me,
for I am blind by day, and it is only when the moon sheds her pale
light on this spot that the veil falls from my eyes and I can see.'
The owl paused, and once more wiped her eyes with her wing, for the
recital of her woes had drawn fresh tears from her.
The Caliph fell into deep thought on hearing this story of the
Princess. 'If I am not much mistaken,' said he, 'there is some
mysterious connection between our misfortunes, but how to find the
key to the riddle is the question.'
The owl answered: 'Oh, my Lord! I too feel sure of this, for in my
earliest youth a wise woman foretold that a stork would bring me
some great happiness, and I think I could tell you how we might save
ourselves.' The Caliph was much surprised, and asked her what she
meant.
'The Magician who has made us both miserable,' said she, 'comes once
a month to these ruins. Not far from this room is a large hall where
he is in the habit of feasting with his companions. I have often
watched them. They tell each other all about their evil deeds, and
possibly the magic word which you have forgotten may be mentioned.'
'Oh, dearest Princess!' exclaimed the Caliph, 'say, when does he
come, and where is the hall?'
The owl paused a moment and then said: 'Do not think me unkind, but
I can only grant your request on one condition.'
'Speak, speak!' cried Chasid; 'command, I will gladly do whatever
you wish!'
'Well,' replied the owl, 'you see I should like to be free too; but
this can only be if one of you will offer me his hand in marriage.'
The storks seemed rather taken aback by this suggestion, and the
Caliph beckoned to his Vizier to retire and consult with him.
When they were outside the door the Caliph said: 'Grand Vizier, this
is a tiresome business. However, you can take her.'
'Indeed!' said the Vizier; 'so that when I go home my wife may
scratch my eyes out! Besides, I am an old man, and your Highness is
still young and unmarried, and a far more suitable match for a young
and lovely Princess.'
'That's just where it is,' sighed the Caliph, whose wings drooped in
a dejected manner; 'how do you know she is young and lovely? I call
it buying a pig in a poke.'
They argued on for some time, but at length, when the Caliph saw
plainly that his Vizier would rather remain a stork to the end of
his days than marry the owl, he determined to fulfil the condition
himself. The owl was delighted. She owned that they could not have
arrived at a better time, as most probably the magicians would meet
that very night.
She then proceeded to lead the two storks to the chamber. They
passed through a long dark passage till at length a bright ray of
light shone before them through the chinks of a half-ruined wall.
When they reached it the owl advised them to keep very quiet.
Through the gap near which they stood they could with ease survey
the whole of the large hall. It was adorned with splendid carved
pillars; a number of coloured lamps replaced the light of day. In
the middle of the hall stood a round table covered with a variety of
dishes, and about the table was a divan on which eight men were
seated. In one of these bad men the two recognised the pedlar who
had sold the magic powder. The man next him begged him to relate all
his latest doings, and amongst them he told the story of the Caliph
and his Vizier.
'And what kind of word did you give them?' asked another old
sorcerer.
'A very difficult Latin word; it is "Mutabor."'
V.
As soon as the storks heard this they were nearly beside themselves
with joy. They ran at such a pace to the door of the ruined castle
that the owl could scarcely keep up with them. When they reached it
the Caliph turned to the owl, and said with much feeling: 'Deliverer
of my friend and myself, as a proof of my eternal gratitude, accept
me as your husband.' Then he turned towards the east. Three times
the storks bowed their long necks to the sun, which was just rising
over the mountains. 'Mutabor!' they both cried, and in an instant
they were once more transformed. In the rapture of their newly-given
lives master and servant fell laughing and weeping into each other's
arms. Who shall describe their surprise when they at last turned
round and beheld standing before them a beautiful lady exquisitely
dressed!
With a smile she held out her hand to the Caliph, and asked: 'Do you
not recognise your screech owl?'
It was she! The Caliph was so enchanted by her grace and beauty,
that he declared being turned into a stork had been the best piece
of luck which had ever befallen him. The three set out at once for
Bagdad. Fortunately, the Caliph found not only the box with the
magic powder, but also his purse in his girdle; he was, therefore,
able to buy in the nearest village all they required for their
journey, and so at last they reached the gates of Bagdad.
Here the Caliph's arrival created the greatest sensation. He had
been quite given up for dead, and the people were greatly rejoiced
to see their beloved ruler again.
Their rage with the usurper Mirza, however, was great in proportion.
They marched in force to the palace and took the old magician and
his son prisoners. The Caliph sent the magician to the room where
the Princess had lived as an owl, and there had him hanged. As the
son, however, knew nothing of his father's acts, the Caliph gave him
his choice between death and a pinch of the magic snuff. When he
chose the latter, the Grand Vizier handed him the box. One good
pinch, and the magic word transformed him to a stork. The Caliph
ordered him to be confined in an iron cage, and placed in the palace
gardens.
Caliph Chasid lived long and happily with his wife the Princess. His
merriest time was when the Grand Vizier visited him in the
afternoon; and when the Caliph was in particularly high spirits he
would condescend to mimic the Vizier's appearance when he was a
stork. He would strut gravely, and with well-stiffened legs, up and
down the room, chattering, and showing how he had vainly bowed to
the east and cried 'Mu...Mu...' The Caliphess and her children were
always much entertained by this performance; but when the Caliph
went on nodding and bowing, and calling 'Mu...mu...' too long, the
Vizier would threaten laughingly to tell the Chaliphess the subject
of the discussion carried on one night outside the door of Princess
Screech Owl.
The Story Of Caliph
Stork
from the Green Fairy Book
Story Edited
by Andrew Lang |
