The slave agreed to this. Thereupon the basket weaver leaped over the stream, and the slave leaped over and was paid the wager. Then the basket weaver told him: “I can do more—I can tie my feet together and leap. If you can do the same, then I will pay you twice as much as I paid you just now.”
The slave, greedy and eager to win the money, agreed. “Tie me up,” the basket weaver told him. The slave untied the mare, using the straps to bind the other man; whereupon the basket weaver drew his legs together and leaped over the stream.
“I can do the same,” said the slave. He untied the basket weaver’s feet, used the straps to bind his own, then leaped over the stream. And at the very same moment the basket weaver leaped onto the mare and galloped off.
From Al-Asad wa ʾl-Ghawwas (The Lion and the Diver), an Arab fable from the fifth/eleventh century, ed. Ridwan al-Sayyid, 2nd ed. (Beirut, 1992).
VI
Tales of the Strange or Supernatural
65
The Strangest Story
When the Abbasids assumed the caliphate, all those Umayyads that were left went into hiding. Among them was Ibrahim ibn Sulaiman. Some of his friends interceded on his behalf with the Abbasid caliph al-Saffah,1 who granted him safe conduct, then received him at his court and honored him.
One day, al-Saffah said to him:
“Ibrahim, tell me the strangest thing to befall you during the time you were in hiding.”
Thereupon Ibrahim recounted the following story:
“I was hiding in al-Hira, in a house looking out on the desert. One day, as I was sitting on the roof of this house, I saw black banners2 coming from Kufa to al-Hira. I was in great fear, for I supposed the men were searching for me.
“I went off, disguised, till I came to Kufa, not knowing in whose house I could hide. I stayed for a time, pondering what I should do; then I saw a large gate and entered through it. In the courtyard of the house I found a handsome, kindly looking man in clean attire. He asked me who I was and what I wanted.
“‘I am,’ I said, ‘a man in terror for his life. I have come to ask you for shelter and safety.’
“He led me into his house and hid me in a room near his harem, where I stayed enjoying every hospitality of food, drink, and clothing. The man never asked me anything of my circumstances. He would, I noted, ride out each morning at dawn and return a little before noon.
“‘Why is it,’ I asked him one day, ‘that you always ride out?’
“‘Ibrahim ibn Sulaiman ibn ʿAbd al-Malik killed my father,’ he told me, ‘and I have been told he’s hiding in al-Hira. I go out each day to seek my revenge on him.’3
“When I heard this, Prince of the Faithful, my fear grew, and I felt the world narrow before my eyes. I had, I saw, drawn myself to my own death.
“I asked the man his name, and his father’s name, and he told me. Then I knew his words were true.
“‘Sir,’ I said, ‘it is my duty to be truthful with you. In recompense for your generous treatment of me, I shall guide you to your goal.’
“‘Where is he, then?’ he asked.
“‘I am the man you have been seeking,’ I said. ‘Take your vengeance now.’
“‘Has hiding,’ he asked, smiling, ‘become so wearisome for you, away from your home and family, that you’ve begun to seek death?’
“‘No, by God,’ I said. ‘I was speaking the truth. I killed your father, on such and such a day, for such and such a reason.’
“When he heard my words, and realized what I was saying was true, his color changed and his eyes grew red. Then he pondered at length before looking toward me once more.
“‘As for you,’ he said, ‘you will meet my father in the presence of a Just Judge, and He will take His revenge on you. I shall not betray the pledge of safety I gave you. I ask, even so, that you leave now, for I cannot guarantee your safety if you stay here in my presence.’
“With that he proffered me a thousand dinars, which I declined to accept, and left.
“This was the strangest thing that ever befell me. And this man was the most generous I ever saw or heard of, after you, Prince of the Faithful.”
From Qisas al-ʿArab (Stories of the Arabs), vol. 1.
1. Caliph al-Saffah, ʿAbd Allah ibn Muhammad, was the first of the Abbasid rulers (r. 132 / 750–136 / 754).
2. Abbasid banners were black.
3. It was the duty of a son or brother, as a matter of honor, to avenge the murder of his father or brother, or other close kinsman, by killing the murderer or one of the murderer’s kin. This code appears to have been inherited from pre-Islamic times.
66
I Shall Never Eat Elephant Flesh
I was told this story by Jaʿfar al-Khalidi, who heard it from the prominent Sufi sheikh al-Khawwas:
I took to the sea with a group of other Sufis, and, as we sailed on, our ship was wrecked. We floated on pieces of timber, and some of us were saved, being set ashore, finally, in a place unknown to us. There we stayed for a number of days with nothing to eat. We were starving and close to death.
We came together, and some of us said:
“Let us make a vow to Almighty God: that, should He save us from this place, we will do certain things, or hold back from doing certain things, for His sake.”
“I shall fast for the rest of my life,” one said.
“We shall pray so many times each day,” others pledged.
Yet another person said:
“I shall never tell a lie.”
After each had taken his oath, they turned to me and asked:
“What do you have to say?”
“I shall never eat elephant flesh,” I replied.
“This,” they said, “is no place for joking!”
“By God,” I said, “I’m not trying to make fun. But ever since you started on your vows, I’ve been wondering what promise I could give to Almighty God. I was at a loss. Then it came to me as I’ve just said. I spoke as my faith directed me.”
“It must be something in the air here,” they said.
A little later, we began wandering and exploring the land in search of something to eat. At last we came across a plump baby elephant. My companions seized hold of it and tussled with it, till finally they managed to kill it. Then they roasted it.
“Come here and eat,” they said.
“A short while back,” I said, “I made a vow to Almighty God that I wouldn’t do such a thing. Now perhaps I see the reason why. I’ve eaten nothing for days, and I’ve no prospect of finding anything else to feed on. But to break my oath to Him by sharing this with you might well be the death of me. Go ahead and eat yourselves.” I refused even to go near them.
When they’d eaten their fill, they grew more cheerful. Night fell, and they went off to their sleeping places. I held back, lying down to sleep by the trunk of a tree I’d chosen earlier.
After about an hour, an elephant appeared and began approaching the spot where the baby elephant had been caught. It was trumpeting and rumbling, filling the wilderness with heavy, thunderous roars. It was clearly pursuing us.
“This is the end of us,” some of our group said. “There’s no escape.” And with that they flung themselves flat, their faces to the ground.
The elephant came closer, then went up to them, one after the other, going about and sniffing the body of each man from head to toe. Once it had finished sniffing every part, it raised one of its forelegs, then planted it on the man, crushing his bones. Then, once sure the man had perished, the elephant raised its foreleg, moved to another man, and did just as it had done to the one before, till they were all crushed to death.
Then my turn came. I was sitting upright, taking in what was happening, praying and begging Almighty God for pardon and forgiveness. I didn’t lie face down, nor did I flee. The elephant moved toward me, and, when I was within its reach, I lay down on my back. It began sniffing me, every part and limb almost, as it had done with my companions. Then it sniffed me, as it had not don
e with my comrades, for a second and a third time. Then, stretching out its trunk, it hoisted me into the air. It’s going to kill me, I thought, only it’s devising some new way of doing it. The trunk held me in its grip, then turned me around and set me on the elephant’s back. I sat bolt upright, holding my nerve and thanking Almighty God for keeping me alive up till now. My thoughts went this way and that, wandering between puzzlement and a premonition of death. The elephant was galloping now, running on furiously, till dawn came. Then it stopped and raised its trunk toward me. Now my hour’s come, I thought. The elephant wrapped me in its trunk, lowered me gently onto the ground, then went off. I stood there in disbelief, watching it turn and go back where it had come from.
I watched the elephant move further off, till at last it disappeared. Then I thanked Almighty God and said my prayers. I looked at the spot where I was, and round about me, and found I was on a broad, long road. I walked about two leagues, until I reached the borders of a splendid neighborhood. And, traveling on in, I found myself in one of the great cities of India.
The people of the city (al-Khawwas the Sufi went on) were astonished to see me and asked me about myself. I told them what had happened to me, whereupon they said the path taken by the elephant, in that one night, took days to cover usually.
After a while, I excused myself and left these people. Then I wandered from one land to the next, till at last I returned safe to my own country.
From Abu ʿAli ʾl-Muhassin al-Tanukhi, Nishwar al-Muhadara wa Akhbar al-Mudhakara (Snippets of Conversation and Memorable Tales), vol. 3.
67
A Dream Come True
I was told this story by the state secretary Abu Ahmad ibn Muhammad ibn Suleiman, known as al-Dalji:
One night, Abu Ahmad al-Dalji said:
I had a dream. I was wandering, lost in the wilderness; then, at last, I saw a steep mountain. I climbed it and reached its summit. I was, I felt, very close to the moon, and the moon so close to me I could put out my hand and touch it. I was holding a piece of wood, and I plunged it into the moon and kept on piercing the sphere, till it was riddled with holes. With the same piece of lumber I collected up some of the nearby clouds and pasted them all over the moon. Then I heard a friend of mine asking me: “What are you doing?”
“I’ve killed the moon,” I said, “and I’m covering it with these clouds.”
I woke then. But, feeling apprehensive about the dream, I went to visit the scrivener Abu ʾl-Hassan Ahmad ibn ʿUmar al-Talqani. The moment he saw me, he said:
“I had a very strange dream last night. I was just about to call on you and interpret it to you.”
“I, too,” I said, “had a dream last night that’s haunting me. And now, here I am to talk to you about it.”
“What did you see?” he asked.
I described my dream to him.
“Don’t trouble yourself about it,” he said. “You’re going to succeed Sahl ibn Bishr, the ruler of Ahwaz. Soon you’ll enjoy his position and his wealth.”
“Where did you get such a notion?” I asked. “And what did you see in your own dream?”
“In my dream last night,” he said, “I met with a good and virtuous man. He must, I thought, be one of the Prophet’s companions. I asked him to pray to Almighty God to bestow His blessing on me.
“The man asked me:
“‘Are you a friend of al-Dalji’s?’
“‘Yes,’ I answered.
“‘Then,’ he went on, ‘go and tell him this. Ahwaz will be his; but be should be obedient to God, and not offend his wife.’
“Clearly” (Abu ʾl-Hassan concluded) “my dream interprets yours.”
I asked him to say nothing of our dreams to anyone. Then I left him and went home.
I wasn’t aware I’d offended my wife in any way, except by having concubines. For a year or so, I’d had a maidservant who’d almost taken my wife’s place. I sold her straight off, for some thousands of dirhams, and gave the money to my wife.
About a year later, the vizier Ibn Baqiyya came to Ahwaz with ʿIzz al-Din. They captured the army commander, Bakhtukin Azadthruweih, and the ruler, Sahl ibn Bishr, along with the Turks. The commander was later released and appointed chief of protocol, his privileges restored to him. I was given Sahl ibn Bishr’s position as ruler of Ahwaz.
Ibn Bishr was imprisoned for a while before being sent to the capital, Baghdad. Then, during the rule of the prince ʿAdud al-Dawla, he was set free and later given the army command and government in Makram, Tastir, and Jundisabour. He seized the chance to settle old scores with me, keeping me confined and demanding money. Then, as he was about to receive the sum, he entered Ahwaz in the name of ʿAdud al-Dawla. For a year and a month he remained in Arjan, then began to incite and stir up the people of Dailam, who became restive, saying they wouldn’t accept me as Ibn Bishr’s replacement: unless I was dismissed, they said, and Ibn Bishr reinstated as vizier, they wouldn’t support the new prince, ʿIzz al-Dawla. Ibn Bishr further lined up the officers and soldiers of the Ahwaz army, who pledged allegiance and loyalty to him. And in [A.H.] 365 [about 975 C.E.], he swore he’d march to Baghdad with his troops to see his demands met.
Prince ʿIzz al-Dawla was enraged. He dispatched his senior counselor, Ibrahim ibn Ismaʿil, with a letter to the people of Dailam, who swiftly thought better of what they’d done, expressing penitence and pledging obedience. Sahl ibn Bishr was arrested and sent to Prince ʿIzz al-Dawla in Baghdad.
As I’d been told in my dream (Abu Ahmad al-Dalji concluded), the Ahwaz province became my domain. I was the only suitable person, and, at a time of need, I was the sole person to be called on.
From Abu ʿAli ʾl-Muhassin al-Tanukhi, Nishwar al-Muhadara wa Akhbar al-Mudhakara (Snippets of Conversation and Memorable Tales), vol. 3.
68
The Body Snatcher
We were told this story by the poet Abu ʾl-Mughira Muhammad ibn Yaʿqoub al-Asadi of Baghdad, who had heard it from Abu Moussa ʿIsa ibn ʿUbaid Allah al-Baghdadi, who had himself received it from a friend:
I made my way to Ramlah [in Palestine], arriving there at night when the townspeople were sound asleep. So I made my way to the cemetery and went into one of the many vaults built above the graves. I placed my leather shield on the ground to use as a rest and, having slung my sword on the wall above me, lay down. I tried to get some sleep, so as to be ready to go into the town next morning, but I was restless and apprehensive, all alone there. I lay awake all night.
As the night wore on, I heard movements. There must be thieves passing by, I thought. If I confront them, I may not come out safe. And I can’t face them anyway if there’s a band of them. So I kept still, not moving a muscle. Nervous and frightened, I peered out through one of the holes in the vault and saw, as I thought, a beast, like a bear, moving about. I hid myself but saw how it came close to another vault alongside me, moving around it, exploring for a while, then stepping into one of its openings.
I watched in amazement and disbelief. What, I wondered, was the creature up to? It entered the vault, came out, then went quickly in and out, many times. Then, at last, I saw it go in and strike on one of the graves. The intruder must, I decided, be a body snatcher.
I watched him digging, with both hands, and realized he was using sharp iron instruments. I held back till he’d burrowed down quite deep, and I felt more confident and assured. Then I took hold of my sword and shield, walked forward on tiptoe, and entered the vault. He felt my presence and, as anyone would have done, stood up straight and lunged to slap at me with his hand—whereupon I chopped at his hand with my sword, severing it and seeing it fly off.
“Aaahhh!” he screamed. “You’ve killed me, God curse you!”
He rushed out, and I stayed on his heels. It was a bright, moonlit night. He kept on running, and I was chasing him, vainly trying to catch up with him, till he got into the town. He passed through endless streets and alleyways, and I was keeping track of the inroads to be sure I wouldn’t lose my way. Then he
reached a particular house, pushed open the door, went in, and locked the door behind him.
I marked the door, then turned back, following the same route I’d used during my pursuit, till I got back to the vault where I’d met the digger. There I searched for the severed hand and finally found it. I took it out into the moonlight and, after some time and a good deal of effort, managed to pull the hand from the iron instrument, which was like a glove with five channels for fingers. The hand itself was decorated with henna and had two gold rings on it.
I realized then, to my great consternation, that the digger had been a woman. The hand seemed to me, as I looked at it, the most beautiful hand in the world, so delicate, so graceful, so tender, so fresh and elegant. I rubbed the blood from it and fell asleep inside the vault.
Next morning, I went into the town and followed the signs of the roads till I reached the door.
“Whose house is this?” I asked.
“This is the house of the town’s judge,” came the answer.
A crowd of people had gathered near the door, and in due course a dignified and venerable old man came out to lead the people in their morning prayers, then sat back in the prayer niche [of the mosque]. Utterly astonished, I asked some of the people who the judge was, and they gave me his name. I went on questioning them and found, at last, that the judge had a young daughter and a wife. I was sure now that the digger had been his daughter. I approached him and said:
“God bless you, judge. May I speak to you in private?”
He led me to one of the inner corners of the mosque.
“So,” he said, “what is it you have to say?”
I took out the hand.
“Do you recognize this?” I asked him.
“The hand I’m not familiar with,” he said. “But these two rings are my young daughter’s. What’s this all about?”
Classical Arabic Stories Page 23
