The story-book of the Shah; or, Legends of old Persia

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THE

STORY-BOOK OF THE SHAH

OR

LEGENDS OF OLD PERSIA

THE HE-GOAT

Frontispiece

KING JRMSHED AND THE GENII.

OR

LEGENDS OF OLD PERSIA

ELLA C. SYKES

AUTHOR OF " THROUGH PERSIA ON A SIDE-SADDLE '

FROM PERSIAN SOURCES

LONDON

JOHN MACQUEEN

49, RUPERT STREET, W. 1901

Gbese Stories

ARE

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED

TO

MY LITTLE GOD-DAUGHTERS

Preface

THE old legends re-told in this book are as well-known to the Persians of to-day, as were the Siege of Troy or the adventures of Odysseus to the Athenians in the time of Pericles.

Some eight centuries have now passed since the poet Firdausi, the Oriental Homer, collected these ancient tales of Kings and Heroes, and embodied them in a fine epic poem, the " Shah Nameh," which has been called the " Iliad of the East."

This, alas ! I have not read in the original,

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VI

PREFACE but I have endeavoured to make such characters as Jemshed, Rustem, Sohrab, and others, interesting to English readers, and have given local colour to my book by depicting, from my own experiences, gained during a two years' residence in the country, some of the aspects of Persia, and the different manners and customs of its inhabitants, as they are at the present day.

In many cases I have taken only the bare outline of the story, filling it in with suitable incidents, and have tried to avoid the repetition and verbosity of the original, which would not appeal to the Western mind, as it does to the Eastern.

Contents

. i

THE STORY OF KING JEMSHED, . . . / . i

II

THE STORY OF KING ZOHAK AND KING FERIDUN, . 45

III The Stories Of Zal And The Childhood Of Rustem, 73

IV RUSTEM, THE CHAMPION OF THE WORLD, . . 95

V RUSTEM AND SOHRAB, . . . .119

VI

THE STORY OF BYZUN AND MANfjEH, . . .143

VII SOME OF THE FEATS OF RUSTEM, . ' ; . . 169

VIII THE STORY OF ISFENDIYAR, . . . . .189

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

PAGE

KING JEMSHED AND THE GENII, . . Frontispiece

KING JEMSHED AND THE SLAVE-GIRL, . . Facing 23

FERIDUN AND THE GOOD GENIUS, . >j 54

ZAL AND RUDABEH, .... ,,82

RUSTEM FIGHTS WITH KING AFRASIYAB (FROM

A PERSIAN PAINTING), . . . „ 101

RUSTEM AND THE WHITE DEMON, . . ,,114

KING KAI-KAUS TRYING TO FLY, . . ,,122

MANfjEH IN HER TENT, . . . ,,150

THE COUNCIL OF THE WISE MEN, . . ,,183 ISFENDIYAR CONQUERS THE KING OF INDIA

(FROM A PERSIAN PAINTING), . . „ 190

ISFENDIYAR AND THE DRAGON, . . „ 204

I

Chapter I

IT has seemed to me that perhaps some English children might like to hear the stories that have delighted boys and girls in Persia for so many hundreds of years.

We ourselves know all about " Jack the Giant- Killer," " Puss in Boots," and a host of those friends of our childhood, and, later on, we make acquaintance with Hercules, and Jason, and much -travelled Ulysses, but few of us have come 1 A across King Jemshed, the white-haired Zal, or mighty Rustem, and it is of these and others as renowned that I propose to tell you.

The Persians relate that many hundreds of years ago their ancestors dwelt in the Elburz mountains, a lofty range to the north of their country. They were wont to sleep in caves on the hill-sides, and were clad in the skins of the animals which they had slain for food with their bows and arrows, each man living for himself, and owning no allegiance to anyone. But after a while they chose a king, Kaiumers by name, and he was so wise that even the animals assembled to do him homage. The lions and tigers came from their lairs in the distant forest, and wolves and leopards crouched before the monarch in company with the fierce wild boar and the fleet-footed ass of the desert.

Kaiumers prospered and grew great and strong, but, unfortunately, he had an enemy, who was the King of the Divs or Demons, 2 and who ruled over the fruitful province of Mazanderan, which lay to the north of Kaiumers' kingdom. Now these Demons were not to be lightly despised. They were like men in some ways, but had horns and long ears and tails, and were possessed of all the arts of sorcery and enchantment. Many of them were giants, so you see that it required great courage to fight against them, and, as they could call up whirlwinds and great fires at will, and could vanish whenever they pleased, it was far better to have them as friends than as enemies.

However, poor Kaiumers had no choice. The king of the Demons announced that he intended to overthrow him and his kingdom, and sent a great army of cat-headed men, giants, and monsters of horrible aspect, into Persia. Kaiumers' son did his best to stem this terrible invasion, but, alas, to no purpose, for he was slain at the commencement of the battle, and 3 the Persian soldiers fled in terror to their mountain fastnesses.

Kaiumers grieved bitterly for the loss of his son, and his pride as a king was severely hurt, for the Demons overflowed the Persian lands, and, in the insolence of their triumph, treated the lawful inhabitants as their slaves.

But the Gods above, who always guard the right, would not suffer this state of things for long, and one day a mysterious and awe-inspiring voice was heard by old Kaiumers in the remote cavern where he lay hid from his enemies. " Cease thy wild despair," it said. " Summon the bravest of thy subjects to thy standard, and victory shall crown thy arms." So the monarch roused himself, and, resolving to fight yet once again for his kingdom, commanded his dearly-loved grandson, Husheng, to lead his forces. This youth did not trust to human help alone, but called the wild beasts to assist him, and it is said that even the birds 4 of the air gave valuable aid in confusing the foe by flying in their faces and making swoops at their eyes.

The great army of Demons was a terrible sight, enveloped as it was in flames and clouds of smoke, but the heroism of the Persians won the day, Husheng particularly distinguishing himself by slaying the Demon King and various members of his family in single combat. As was always the case in those days, the whole army was routed on the death of its leader, and the panic-stricken Divs were pursued by the tigers and wolves and panthers, which tore them to pieces as they fled.

From now onwards the kingdom of Persia was secure, and civilization grew apace, and reached a climax in the long reign of Jemshed, the grandson of the valiant Husheng.

Persians speak of the wisdom and power of this mighty monarch as we do of that of King Solomon. The Demons were subservient to 5 his will, and he made them build magnificent palaces for him. They also launched vessels on the Caspian Sea, and even went so far as to transport Jemshed on his throne from one city to another in less time than it takes to write it. For seven hundred years Persia enjoyed a Golden Age under this king, so highly favoured by the Gods. During that time no one died or was ill, and Jemshed, along with his subjects, was in the very heyday of youth and strength, old age being unknown.

But the greatness of his prosperity inflated the monarch with pride, and he forgot the gratitude due to the Gods to whom he and his people owed all their happiness.

There came a day when he commanded everyone of his subjects to assemble in the great square in front of his palace. Now this mansion of the king, built by the Demons, was like a fairy dream. All the outside walls were covered with beautifully-painted tiles, and 6 the many windows and balconies were made of fretted stonework, which was encrusted with bits of looking-glass, so that the whole building glittered and sparkled as if it had been besprinkled with diamonds.

And we can still see this kind of ornamentation in Persia to-day, because the Persians have never quite forgotten the manner in which the Demons made King Jemshed's palace.

Inside, there were lofty halls with springing fountains, and silk carpets covering soft divans on which to lie. The walls were hung with pictures and embroidered silks and jewelled hangings, everything much like a Persian palace of to-day, but, of course, far grander, mere men not being able to make things as well as the Genii can.

The palace stood in the midst of the city, to the north of which rose the Elburz range, covered with snow, the great Volcano

Demavend sending up its smoke, lazily curling into the clear blue sky of a Persian winter.

In front of the palace was placed the throne of mighty Jemshed, on which he could be carried from place to place in his kingdom in the twinkling of an eye. It was the handiwork of Demons, and was studded with every precious stone you have ever heard of, and a great many that you have not. As the brilliant sunshine lit it up, it was almost too dazzling for mortal eye to gaze on, and around it stood a great array of cat-headed Divs, gigantic Afreets, and fearsome-looking Jinns, while graceful Peris, a kind of fairy, held a magnificent awning over it.

After a while the brazen trumpets blew, the toms-toms were beaten by men's hands, and the vast crowds became all agog with impatience to see their mighty monarch, and to hear for what purpose he had commanded them thus to assemble. 8

At last Jemshed, surrounded by his mightiest warriors and the most learned of his subjects, came forth from his palace and mounted the throne, while all the people fell on their faces before him, and did obeisance.

He wore many silken coats, one over the other, and a fur mantle outside all the rest ; his gorgeously-embroidered trousers were tight at the ankles, and his slippers were of pure gold, while on his head was a big, many-coloured turban with a huge diamond blazing in front of it.

At the present day the Shah of Persia wears several coats, one over the other, but, as they are usually of buff or dark cloth, and his trousers like those of a European gentleman, you would not consider him very fine in appearance.

On this occasion Jemshed looked so magnificent that from his loyal subjects arose a loud and prolonged " Bah ! bah ! " of admiration, and the Persians still show their astonishment and pleasure in the same manner. 9

After a moment the great King raised his sceptre and commanded his people to rise and be silent. In an instant there was an intense stillness, and one could almost "hear Demavend smoking," as the saying went, so eager were all to listen to the " Shelter of the Universe," the " Asylum of the World," as Persians call their ruler.

" Subjects of the greatest monarch on the earth," Jemshed began, "it is well for you to understand whence comes all your prosperity. Why is it that Disease and Poverty and Death are driven from this land? Why is it that you are always young and fair, and need never fear the approach of old age? The kingdoms on our frontiers are not favoured as we are. Famine and Pestilence visit all other nations, Death garners them in by thousands, and those he spares grow old and feeble. What is the reason of this difference ? "

Here the King paused for a moment, and 10 shouts of " Hail to the Mighty Gods ! " arose from the great concourse, and then ensued silence, for his subjects saw with surprise a dark frown gather upon the brow of their monarch.

" You say your welfare is a gift from the Gods!" he cried out in anger. "Not so, you foolish ones, blind as moles or worms. Know you not that all the good gifts you enjoy proceed from me myself? Know you not that it is I, the King, who have driven away Death and Sickness and Poverty from among you? Are you too ignorant to understand that Jemshed himself is the source of all your joy and rest, that all goodness and greatness proceed from him ? "

This impious speech was at first received with great acclamation by the vast crowd, but, even as they shouted, a cry arose among them of " Look at Demavend ! " and all eyes

turned to the mountain. The snow-covered 11 volcano had suddenly become of a dusky red hue, and a huge black cloud issued from the crater and was wafted down towards the plain, until it hovered over the awe-struck people who turned to Jemshed for aid in their terror.

But, even as his subjects gazed upon him, the grandeur of the proud King vanished away. The gorgeous palace fell into a heap of unsightly ruins, the gem-studded throne, the wonder of the world, crumbled into dust, and Jemshed's royal robes became fluttering rags such as the very beggars would disdain.

Along the ground glided venomous snakes, and loathsome lizards crawled among the populace, while the black cloud rained down a veritable army of huge scorpions, yellow and black, of fat-bodied, hairy tarantulas and swiftly-running centipedes.

On all sides were clear signs of the anger of the Dwellers in the High Heavens, and as the people shrank away from the horrible reptiles 12 and insects, they cried out that they would no longer obey Jemshed as their King, because he had lost the favour of the Gods through his impious pride.

Poor monarch! He paid bitterly for his arrogance, and to the last day of his life he regretted that he had ever made that boastful speech. His regrets, however, came too late. The nobles and warriors, seeing that the Gods were against him, respected him no more, and many actually gave their allegiance to Zohak, an Arab King, who was a slave to Iblis, the Spirit of Evil.

Accordingly, Zohak determined to conquer Persia, which was far larger and richer than his own kingdom, and sent a large army into that country.

Jemshed did his best to guard his land from the hordes of wild Arabs that flowed into it, but, alas, in vain. His power was gone, and

his very soldiers, who used to think they 13 could never be conquered if only their King were with them, now cursed him openly, as he rode at their head on his milk-white charger.

At last came a terrible day when all was lost. The entire Persian army refused to fight. The archers would not draw their bows, the slingers threw their stones on the ground instead of putting them into their slings, and the officers left their swords in their sheaths, and did not unfasten the heavy battle-axes from their saddles.

Jemshed galloped to and fro among them, whirling his huge, spiked mace, and threatening to kill them if they did not make ready against the Arabs. But not a single man cared for the King's anger, though once every subject would have prostrated himself at the monarch's feet until commanded to rise.

At last Jemshed saw that all his efforts were useless; and as he did not wish to be made 14 prisoner by the Arab hosts, now thronging close upon him, he dug the corners of his shovel-shaped stirrups into his steed and disappeared across the plain in a cloud of dust. As his horse was the swiftest in Persia, the King soon out-distanced the Arab riders sent after him, and became a wanderer on the face of the earth, without a friend and with many foes.

Where could he go ? To the North, on the far side of the Elburz mountains, lay the fertile slopes of Mazanderan, but this country was inhabited by Demons and Genii, who would assuredly kill him now, though only a short time back they had trembled at his frown, and obeyed his lightest behest. On the West were the Arab hordes, and far South ran the Persian Gulf, which report said was full of crocodiles and sharks and many other sea monsters, which were in the habit of coming inland to devour the wretched inhabitants. 15

On thinking over all these things, Jemshed decided to make his way towards India, and, if possible, take service with some powerful king there, and perhaps in time obtain his aid in reconquering his lost kingdom.

You would not think travelling in Persia, even at the present day, a very comfortable process. As there are no railways and very few roads, everyone has to get from place to place on horseback, and all the luggage is carried on the pack-saddles of mules. And when the day's march is over, you reach no comfortable hotel, but must do the best you can in a perfectly bare and often very dirty room in a caravanserai unless the weather is warm enough for you to pitch your tent.

Jemshed, however, had no baggage and no tent, and he did not dare to enter the caravanserais for fear of being recognized. All the shelter he could get was in some peasant's small hut, made of mud. Day after day he 16 would traverse broad plains, riding along a scarcely-defined track towards a range of barren hills, which he would painfully cross ; and every now and again a dreary expanse of desert had to be passed.

These deserts in Persia are no light matter to the traveller. Water is only to be found at long distances apart, and there is no food of any kind for man or beast.

On one occasion Jemshed nearly died of thirst in these terrible wastes. The water-skin, hanging from his saddle, was emptied to the last drop, and yet he had not reached the holes, which he had been told would contain the precious liquid. It was still winter, and the nights were bitterly cold, but during the day the sun blazed straight down from a turquoise sky on mounds of yellow sand, which his tired horse would avoid as far as possible, but which often had to be crossed as they rose in long chains before him.

At last the milk-white steed could carry its rider no further, and the king struggled along wearily in the loose sand, his faithful companion stumbling after him.

Two miserable days went by, and Jemshed, who had once quaffed the choicest wines of Shiraz, now suffered all the agonies of thirst, his swollen tongue seeming to fill his parched mouth.

On the morning of the third day, the poor horse had not the strength to stagger to its feet, and the King went on his way, feeling a great despair overwhelming him. But, lo, and behold, as he surmounted the crest of a chain of sand hills, he saw a little tamarisk scrub growing at their base, and some shallow depressions in the ground below him.

Water at last ! He threw himself down, and dug with his hands in the sand, which became moister and moister as he flung it out of the hole, and, in a moment or two, the precious liquid began to trickle slowly into this primitive well. 18

When he had quenched his thirst, and felt his dried-up body expand again with the blessed moisture, his first thought was for his faithful horse. With some difficulty he filled up his astrakhan hat with water, and hurried back lest he should be too late.

The poor animal lay stretched out and gasping, but when Jemshed poured the liquid down its throat, it was able to get up and follow him to the holes, where it drank and drank as if it would never stop.

Eastward, ever eastward, day after day, week after week! The glorious Persian sunsets flamed in the sky behind Jemshed, and lit up the ranges barring his way with gorgeous rose and purple tints, while every night the moon sailed across a sky of darkest sapphire in which the stars shone with a brilliancy unknown in England. Long before morning the curious " False Dawn" would often wake him, and then darkness would fall on the world again until a 19 crimson streak in the East appeared and grew broader and broader. Then, all at once, the eastward sky would be sown broadcast with flocks of tiny rosy clouds, and the sun himself would leap into the heavens to begin a new day.

But even the longest journey has an end, and at last Jemshed found himself in the kingdom of Zabulistan. This realm, which now forms part of India, used to send tribute every year to the once proud King of Persia, who was now entering it as a homeless wanderer, in fear of his life.

Chapter II

GURENG, the King of Zabulistan, had a daughter, Ferooze or Turquoise by name, so beautiful that all the Court poets worked their hardest to find similes to describe her exceeding loveliness. They compared her figure to the cypress, her walk to that of the pheasant, her face to the full moon, her lips to sugar, and her cheeks to the rose or the tulip ; but all confessed that no words could do justice to the brilliant splendour of her glorious eyes.

As was only natural, this fair maiden had many lovers, but, so far, she had not cared for any of them, and her devoted father said that 21 he would never force her to marry unless she herself wished to do so.

She had an old nurse from Kabul, a woman skilled in all the enchantments of the Afghans, and who was able to foretell the future, besides reading many hidden secrets of the universe from the moon and the stars. This aged crone had prophesied often to her lovely mistress that she would become the wife of King Jemshed, whose power and achievements had been the talk of every tongue, and the Princess was so proud at the brilliant prospect that she was scornful and haughty to the princes who came from far and wide to woo her. And, indeed, King Gureng himself was deeply impressed by the prophecy of the Kabuli nurse until the evil tidings reached him of the conquest of Persia by Zohak, and the disastrous flight of its monarch.

Now it came to pass that Jemshed arrived

at the city of Zabul in the month of May, 22

To face page

THE SLAVE-GIRL SEES KING JEMSHED.

when the roses were in full bloom, and all the world was rejoicing in the delicious sunshine, which would too soon become of almost unbearable strength. The poor refugee wished to enter into a big walled enclosure, outside the city-gate, shaded by trees and cool with running water, to repose after his long journey. But to his surprise he found guards posted at the entrance, who informed him that the Princess was inside, disporting herself with her maidens, and, therefore, no intruder might enter the garden. Jemshed was too tired to go further, so threw himself down in the shade of a tree outside. His marvellous youth and beauty, undimmed by the hundreds of years that he had dwelt on the earth, and uninjured by his terrible misfortune, at once attracted the notice of a slave-girl who chanced to come out of the gardens. To her inquiries the dethroned King answered that formerly he was rich and powerful, but that now he was too poor even to 23 buy wine, and he begged the girl to give him some of his favourite drink, as it would lessen his miseries both of mind and body.

The Princess and her train of girls inside the garden had been rinding the time pass somewhat slowly that day, and all listened in great excitement when the slave-girl rushed up to them, and, prostrating herself, informed her royal mistress that the most beautiful youth in the world was resting outside the gate, and had begged her to give him wine as he was weary with travelling.

Ferooze, who was not lacking in curiosity, at once rose and hastened to the entrance, and as soon as her eyes fell on the stranger she felt a strong affection for him and invited him to come into her garden. Jemshed hesitated to comply, as he feared his disguise might be penetrated, and even when the lady told him who she was, and that her every wish was law to her father, he still hung back. But when she 24 gazed at him with her melting eyes and held out her hand to him, he could no longer resist such charm and loveliness, and, entering the garden, he walked beside her along the shady avenues. Soon they came to a leaping fountain, around which fine carpets and soft cushions were spread, and the Princess bade the stranger seat himself beside her, clapping her hands as a signal to her slaves to bring the noon-day meal.

The food was not like that to which we are accustomed, and was served on golden trays placed on a silken cloth laid on the ground.

There was a great mound of pillau, which is boiled rice and butter mixed with chopped meat and vegetables ; also kabob-isikhs, which are bits of mutton and onion roasted on long wooden skewers, and chilav kabob, a very favourite dish, where tender pieces of meat are laid on a big pile of snowy rice and are eaten with butter and raw eggs. Plums 25 and apricots flanked the meats, and there were so many kinds of sweetmeats, that it would only tire you were I to describe them, and would be unkind on my part, as you cannot taste them for yourselves. As there were no knives and forks, the Princess and her guest had to eat with their fingers, as the Persians do at the present day, and you would be quite astonished to see how neatly they do it. It is not at all an easy matter, as you will soon see, if you try to eat boiled rice in that way. Ferooze drank only water in a cup filled with snow, but the slave-girl handed Jemshed a brimming goblet of wine, and as he quaffed it his melancholy vanished, and he told the Princess that the ruby-tinted juice of the grape helped him to forget his enemies and misfortunes, and inspired him with courage to face the world again. As he spoke his eyes glowed, and he held the golden cup with such a grace that the royal girl was convinced he could be 26 none other than King Jemshed himself, and she secretly sent a slave to the palace for a portrait of the once mighty monarch, in order to compare it with the features of the stranger.

Meantime two doves fluttered near where they sat, and, perching on a fragment of broken wall, began to bill and coo with one another. The Princess perceiving them, and anxious to show the stranger what she could do, sent for her bow and arrows.

"Now, which bird shall I shoot?" she playfully asked Jemshed. " Perhaps you are not aware that no warrior in the kingdom has so strong an arm or so sure an aim as I have ? " But Jemshed held out his own hand for the bow, and the royal beauty, falling ever deeper in love, yielded it to him. " Now, if I hit the mate," he cried, "shall the lady whom I admire most in the world be mine ? " Ferooze bowed her head in sign of assent, and marvelled to see with what ease the handsome 27 stranger handled the bow, which not one of her father's men of war could bend. The poor dove was slain, and then the lady took the bow, and asking whether she should have as husband the man whom she loved if her aim were true, she transfixed the other dove through the heart As Jemshed and the Princess were gazing at one another with love shining in their eyes, the old nurse from Kabul hobbled up to them, and pulled her mistress aside to inform her that the beautiful youth was no other than the King of Persia himself, whom Destiny had led to this spot to be her husband. And to make assurance doubly sure, a slave appeared carrying the portrait of the once mighty monarch, which the Princess invited her guest to look at.

At the sight of the likeness of the King, clad in gorgeous robes, crowned with jewels, and seated on his wondrous throne, the masterpiece of Demons, Jemshed burst into tears, so 28 bitter was the remembrance of his past splendour as compared with his present wretchedness. But even then he would not confess that he was the original of the portrait, and long did he evade the inquiries of both the lady and her nurse, so fearful was he of being captured by the myrmidons of Zohak if he betrayed his name.

However, the great love of Ferooze prevailed at last, and he poured out to her the whole history of his misfortunes and the downfall of his kingdom.

The maiden, as she listened to him, made one of the fairest of pictures. She wore a loose-sleeved jacket of silver gauze richly embroidered with gold, her long full trousers of silk were a very marvel of the loom, and the thick plaits of her black hair were crowned with a little jewelled cap.