Achmed Abdullah

“ Ahmed stopped an old man.
“What has happened?” he demanded.
“The Mongols have taken Bagdad,” came the shattering reply. “They have captured the Caliph and the Princess Zobeid. They are murdering the people. They are polluting the wells. They are stabling their horses in the temples of Allah. They are crucifying the priests. They are looting and burning the ancient town!” ”

“ The rug rose from the ground and cut rapidly through the air toward Bagdad, while down below, on the road between the latter place and Terek el-Bey, in field and village and desert and hamlet, the excitement and consternation of the people who looked up and saw the wondrous flying carpet, peaked to a hysterical pitch. ”

“ He put his feet on the road of life; life that, as he descended the slope of the hill, pulsed everywhere about him, immense in power, moving swiftly, surging close to his heels and hands and heart, striding behind him and before, urging him on. ”

“ Then the hermit blessed Ahmed, who mounted the stallion and was off.
The horse paced away faster than the wind—faster and faster—a mile at a jump—a mile at a leap—a mile at each stretch of its splendid, steely body. ”

“ And now, according to your and your daughter’s pledge, I claim her as my own—my bride—my wife!”
“Fair and just!” admitted the Caliph of Bagdad; but his words as well as Zobeid’s exclamation of horror and consternation were swallowed in the Indian’s angry:
“Why—the pretensions of this Mongol are absolutely preposterous! Saved Zobeid’s life, did he? By Shiva! There is hardly a Brahmin or holy fakir in Hindustan who is not familiar with Sanjivnividya—the science of restoring the dead to life!” ”

“ For I claim Zobeid’s hand. Here”—as he gave the magic crystal to Zemzem—“is the greatest rarity on earth! Without its help we would not have known of Zobeid’s terrible plight! She is mine—mine—mine!”
“There is something in what you say,” admitted the Caliph. He turned to his daughter. “Zobeid, I really believe that he is right and that ...”
“Wait a moment! Just wait a moment!” cut in the Prince of Persia. “A fiddlestick for magic globe and magic apple! Valuable—I grant. Also interesting. But it was my magic flying carpet which brought us here in time to save the Princess’ life. ”

“ But, Ahmed, happiness is a helpmeet to those who deserve it—as you deserve it, having conquered your own self. And honor, too, helps in life’s struggles. Honor is really a very practical and constructive virtue. Fine ideals always are. That is exactly where cynical philosophers are wrong. Look!”—as Ahmed opened the little silver box—“do you see the tiny yellow seeds?” ”

“ There, straggling down the road, coming from the direction of Bagdad, he saw a huge mob of men and women and children; hurrying, hurrying; loaded with household goods, having picked up what first had come to hand, like people when their home is burning above their heads—useless, absurd things; beating their breasts ”

“ They surrounded the Caliph, clamoring, arguing, quarreling, protesting. They drew him to one side while the Princess, obeying a sudden impulse, turned to Zemzem.
“Quick!” she whispered. “Before they notice! Ask the magic crystal to show us what Ahmed is doing.”
Zemzem was sitting cross-legged in front of the couch, her back to the others so that they could not see. She spoke low words to the crystal. She stared into it. Then she looked up excitedly.
“Heaven-Born!” came her sibilant murmur. “The Thief of Bagdad is on his way home!”
“Oh——” Zobeid forced back the exclamation.
“Yes. He flies. ”

“ They are seeds from the Flower of Unfulfilled but Righteous Desire. Throw a seed on the ground. Wish hard. And if the wish be just and right, a puff of smoke will rise from the earth where the seed struck it, and at once you will have your wish fulfilled. ”

“ You also acquired two treasures, the silver box and the cloak of invisibility—which latter, by the way, as you will learn presently, shields your soul from the infamous lies and envy and hate of worthless people. ”

“ Life! The greatest gift in the world! Ah!”—he bowed deeply before the Caliph—“the greatest rarity in the world! I found it! Be pleased, O delightful Zobeid, to accept it as a present!” He gave the magic fruit to Zemzem, the Princess’ faithful Arab slave girl; and once more addressed the Caliph: “I have succeeded! ”