e, and sending
for Barzu, despatched his army to attack the enemy, and challenge Rustem
to single combat. Rustem was with the Persian troops, and, answering the
summons, said: "Young man, if thou art calling for Rustem, behold I come
in his place to lay thee prostrate on the earth." "Ah!" rejoined Barzu,
"and why this threat? It is true I am but of tender years, whilst thou
art aged and experienced. But if thou art fire, I am water, and able to
quench thy flames." Saying this he wielded his bow, and fixed the arrow
in its notch, and commenced the strife. Rustem also engaged with bow and
arrows; and then they each had recourse to their maces, which from
repeated strokes were soon bent as crooked as their bows, and they were
themselves nearly exhausted. Their next encounter was by wrestling, and
dreadful were the wrenches and grasps they received from each other.
Barzu finding no advantage from this struggle, raised his mace, and
struck Rustem such a prodigious blow on the head, that the champion
thought a whole mountain had fallen upon him. One arm was disabled, but
though the wound was desperate, Rustem had the address to conceal its
effects, and Barzu wondered that he had made apparently so little
impression on his antagonist. "Thou art," said he, "a surprising
warrior, and seemingly invulnerable. Had I struck such a blow on a
mountain, it would have been broken into a thousand fragments, and yet
it makes no impression upon thee. Heaven forbid!" he continued to
himself, "that I should ever receive so bewildering a stroke upon my own
head!" Rustem having successfully concealed the anguish of his wound,
artfully observed that it would be better to finish the combat on the
following day, to which Barzu readily agreed, and then they both parted.

Barzu declared to Afrasiyab that his extraordinary vigor and strength
had been of no account, for both his antagonist and his horse appeared
to be composed of materials as hard as flint. Every blow was without
effect; and "Heaven only knows," added he, "what may be the result of
to-morrow's conflict." On the other hand Rustem showed his lacerated arm
to Khosrau, and said: "I have escaped from him; but who else is there
now to meet him, and finish the struggle? Feramurz, my son, cannot
fulfil my promise with Barzu, as he, alas! is fighting in Hindustan. Let
me, however, call him hither, and in the meanwhile, on some pretext or
other, delay the engagement." The king, in great sorrow