I have nothing more to say,
except to beg you again not to expose your life, for the difficulty is
almost insuperable."
After these words, the prince mounted his horse, took his leave of the
dervish with a respectful salute, and threw the bowl before him.
The bowl rolled away unceasingly, with as much swiftness as when
Prince Bahman first hurled it from his hand, which obliged him to put
his horse to the gallop to avoid losing sight of it, and when it had
reached the foot of the mountain it stopped. The prince alighted from
his horse, laid the bridle on his neck, and, having first surveyed the
mountain and seen the black stones, began to ascend. He had not gone
four steps before he heard the voices mentioned by the dervish, though
he could see nobody. Some one said, "Where is he going?" "What would
he have?" "Do not let him pass"; others, "Stop him," "Catch him,"
"Kill him"; and others, with a voice like thunder, "Thief!"
"Assassin!" "Murderer!" while some, in a gibing tone, cried, "No, no,
do not hurt him; let the pretty fellow pass. The cage and bird are
kept for him."
Notwithstanding all these troublesome voices, Prince Bahman ascended
with courage and resolution for some time, but the voices redoubled
with so loud a din near him, both behind, before, and on all sides,
that at last he was seized with dread, his legs trembled under him, he
staggered, and finding that his strength failed him, he forgot the
dervish's advice, turned about to run down the hill, and was that
instant changed into a black stone.
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