is
love for his master did not suffer him to rest. He neighed and tore
up the earth, till Rustem woke up again in a rage. But this time
God would not suffer the dragon to hide himself, and Rustem saw him
through the darkness, and, drawing his sword, rushed at him.

But first he said, "Tell me your name; my hand must not tear your soul
from your body before I know your name."

The dragon said, "No man can ever save himself from my claws; I have
dwelt in this desert for ages, and the very eagles have not dared to
fly across. Tell me then your name, bold man. Unhappy is the mother
that bore you."

"I am Rustem, son of Zal of the white hair," said the hero, "and there
is nothing on earth that I fear."

Then the dragon threw itself upon Rustem. But the horse Raksh laid
back his ears, and began to tear the dragon's back with his teeth,
just as a lion might have torn it.

The hero stood astonished for a while; then, drawing his sword,
severed the monster's head from his body. Then, having first bathed,
he returned thanks to God, and mounting on Raksh, went his way.

All that day he traveled across the plain, and came at sunset to the
land of the magicians. Just as the daylight was disappearing, he spied
a delightful spot for his night's encampment. There were trees and
grass, and a spring of water. And beside the spring there was a flagon
of red wine, and a roast kid, with bread and salt and confectionery
neatly arranged. Rustem dismounted, unsaddled his horse, and looked
with astonishment at the provisions thus prepared. It was the meal of
certain magicians, who had vanished when they saw him approach.

Of this he knew nothing, but sitting down without question, filled a
cup with wine, and taking a harp which he found lying by the side of
the flagon, sang:

"The scourge of the wicked am I,
And my days still in battle go by;
Not for me is the red wine that glows
In the reveler's cup, nor the rose
That blooms in the land of delight;
But with monsters and demons to fight."

The music and the voice of the singer reached the ears of a witch that
was in those parts. Forthwith, by her art, she made her face as fair
as spring, and, approaching Rustem, asked him how he fared, and sat
down by his side. The hero thanked Heaven that he had thus found in
the desert such good fare and excellent company; for he did not know
that the lovely visitor was a witch. He welcomed her, and handed her
a cup of wine; but, as