Once upon a time, when the servants of Allah were many, there lived a Padishah who had one son and one daughter. The Padishah grew old, his time came, and he died; his son ruled in his stead, and he had not ruled very long before he had squandered away his whole inheritance.
One day he said to his sister: “Little sister! all our money is spent. If people were to hear that we had nothing left they would drive us out of doors, and we should never be able to look our fellow-men in the face again. Far better, therefore, if we depart and take up our abode elsewhere.” So they tied together the little they had left, and then the brother and sister quitted their father’s palace in the night-time, and wandered forth into the wide world.
They went on and on till they came to a vast sandy desert, where they were like to have fallen to the ground for the burning heat. The youth felt that he could go not a step further, when he saw on the ground a little puddle of water. “Little sister!” said he, “I will not go a step further till I have drunk this water.”
“Nay, dear brother!” replied the girl, “who can tell whether it be really water or filth? If we have held up so long, surely we can hold up a little longer. Water we are bound to find soon.”
“I tell thee,” replied her brother, “that I’ll not go another step further till I have drunk up this puddle, though I die for it,”—and with that he knelt down, sucked up every drop of the dirty water, and instantly became a stag.
The little sister wept bitterly at this mischance; but there was nothing for it but to go on as they were. They went on and on, up hill and down dale, right across the sandy waste till they came to a full spring beneath a large tree, and there they sat them down and rested. “Hearken now, little sister!” said the stag, “thou must mount up into that tree, while I go to see if I can find something to eat.” So the girl climbed up into the tree, and the stag went about his business, ran up hill and down dale, caught a hare, brought it back, and he and his sister ate it together, and so they lived from day to day and from week to week.
Now the horses of the Padishah of that country were wont to be watered at the spring beneath the large tree. One evening the horsemen led their horses up to it as usual, but, just as they were on the point of drinking, they caught sight of the reflection of the damsel in the watery mirror and reared back. The horsemen fancied that perhaps the water was not quite pure, so they drew off the trough and filled it afresh, but again the horses reared backwards and would not drink of it. The horsemen knew not what to make of it, so they went and told the Padishah.
