I married her
when she was twelve years old, and we lived together thirty years,
without having any children. At the end of that time I adopted into my
family a son, whom a slave had borne. This act of mine excited against
the mother and her child the hatred and jealousy of my wife. During my
absence on a journey she availed herself of her knowledge of magic to
change the slave and my adopted son into a cow and a calf, and sent
them to my farm to be fed and taken care of by the steward.
Immediately on my return I inquired after my child and his mother.
"Your slave is dead," said she, "and it is now more than two months
since I have beheld your son; nor do I know what has become of him."
I was sensibly affected at the death of the slave; but as my son had
only disappeared, I flattered myself that he would soon be found.
Eight months, however, passed, and he did not return; nor could I
learn any tidings of him. In order to celebrate the festival of the
great Bairam,[8] which was approaching, I ordered my bailiff to bring
me the fattest cow I possessed, for a sacrifice. He obeyed my
commands. Having bound the cow, I was about to make the sacrifice,
when at the very instant she lowed most sorrowfully, and the tears
even fell from her eyes. This seemed to me so extraordinary that I
could not but feel compassion for her, and was unable to give the
fatal blow. I therefore ordered her to be taken away, and another
brought.
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