long a journey."

The prince, while he spoke, observed that the dervish changed
countenance, held down his eyes, looked very serious, and remained
silent, which obliged him to say to him again: "Good father, tell me
whether you know what I ask you, that I may not lose my time, but inform
myself somewhere else."

At last the dervish broke silence. "Sir," said he to Prince Bahman, "I
know the way you ask of me; but the regard which I conceived for you the
first moment I saw you, and which is grown stronger by the service you
have done me, kept me in suspense as to whether I should give you the
satisfaction you desire." "What motive can hinder you?" replied the
prince; "and what difficulties do you find in so doing?" "I will tell
you," replied the dervish; "the danger to which you are going to expose
yourself is greater than you may suppose. A number of gentlemen of as
much bravery as you can possibly possess have passed this way, and asked
me the same question. When I had used all my endeavours to persuade them
to desist, they would not believe me; at last I yielded to their
importunities; I was compelled to show them the way, and I can assure
you they have all perished, for I have not seen one come back.
Therefore, if you have any regard for your life, take my advice, go no
farther, but return home."

Prince Bahman persisted in his resolution. "I will not suppose," said he
to the dervish, "but that your advice is sincere. I am obliged to you
for the friendship you express for me; but whatever may be the danger,
nothing shall make me change my intention: whoever attacks me, I am well
armed, and can say I am as brave as any one." "But they who will attack
you are not to be seen," replied the dervish; "how will you defend
yourself against invisible persons?" "It is no matter," answered the
prince, "all you say shall not persuade me to do anything contrary to my
duty. Since you know the way, I conjure you once more to inform me."

When the dervish found he could not prevail upon Prince Bahman, and that
he was obstinately bent to pursue his journey, notwithstanding his
friendly remonstrance, he put his hand into a bag that lay by him and
pulled out a bowl, which he presented to him. "Since I cannot prevail on
you to attend to my advice," said he, "take this bowl and when you are
on horseback throw it before you, and follow it to the foot of a
mountain, where it will stop. As soon as the bowl stops, alight, leave
your hor