Princess Solima was sick, not exactly ill, but so much out of sorts that her father, King Zuliman, was both annoyed and perturbed. The princess was as beautiful as a princess of those days should be; her long tresses were like threads of gold. She was learned and clever, too, and her goodness of heart gained for her as great a renown as her peerless beauty. Despite all this, Princess Solima was not happy.
The king summoned his magicians and wizards and sorcerers and commanded them to solve the mystery of her illness. They finally agreed to report to the king that the time had arrived when the princess should marry. Heralds and messengers were sent out far and wide, and very soon a procession of suitors for the princess' hand began to file past the lady.
When the king said, "Pick the one you love the best, Solima dear," she answered promptly, "None." She said, "I will marry any man who is not such a fool as to think himself the only person in the world who is of consequence."
"There was Prince Hafiz who talked only of his wars--of the men--aye and women and children--his soldiers had butchered. I will not be queen in a land where people cannot live in peace. Then there was Prince Aziz who boasted that he spends all his life with his horses and dogs and falcons in the hunting field. He knows the needs of beasts, but not of men. Prince Abdul knew exactly how many bottles of wine he drank daily, but he could not tell me how many schools there were in his city."
"I will not be queen in a land where the king thinks the people live only to make him great. I shall be proud and happy to reign where the king understands that it is his duty to make his people happy and his country prosperous and peaceful."
The wizards informed the king that the stars foretold that Princess Solima would marry a poor man. In a towering rage, the king swore he would imprison her in his fortress in the sea. His majesty meant it, too, and at once had the fortress, which stood on a tiny island miles from land, luxuriously furnished and fitted up for his daughter's reception.
One who thought deeply was a shepherd lad. He loved to bask lazily in the sun, to listen to the birds chirruping. "I wonder," he mused, "if I shall learn to read the written word and even to pen it myself. I could then write the song of the brook and the birds." And musing thus, he fell asleep.
All went well until he came in sight of home. Then a huge bird, a ziz, bigger than several houses, appeared in the sky and swooped down on the cows and sheep. It dug its talons deep into the flanks of an ox. The shepherd, rushing to the rescue, seized it by the forelegs as it was being raised from the ground. Curling his leg round the slender trunk of a tree, the young man began a struggle with the ziz. The mighty bird, its eyes glowing like two signal lamps, tried to strike at him with his tremendous beak.
The thrust of the beak caught the upper part of the tree trunk. It snapped under the blow, and the shepherd was compelled to release his hold. He still gripped tightly the forelegs of the ox, and the great bird had no difficulty in rising into the air. Higher and higher the ziz rose into the air, spreading its vast wings majestically, and flying silently and swiftly over the land. The bird was now flying over the sea on which the moon was shining with silvery radiance.
The bird stopped, and the shepherd was bumped down on the top of a tower in the sea. Beside him was the carcass of the ox. Above them stood the ziz, its beak thrust down to strike. With a quick movement, the shepherd drew a knife which he carried in his girdle, and struck at the opening of the descending beak. The bird uttered a shrill cry of pain as the knife pierced its tongue, and in a few moments it had disappeared in the air.
Thoroughly exhausted, the shepherd slept until awakened by the sound of a voice. Above him stood a woman of ravishing beauty. "Who are you?" asked Princess Solima, for she it was. The princess placed food before him, then led him to the bath chamber. "Wash and robe thyself," she said.
"Such beauty as thine is the right of princesses only. I am but a poor shepherd." "And may not a shepherd be handsome?" she asked. "Tell me: who hath laid down a law that only royal personages may be fair to behold? I have seen princes of vile countenance."
"I come here every morning," said the princess, "to see if my husband cometh. I know not who he is. Some mornings when I have stood here and grieved at my loneliness, I have felt inclined to make a vow that I would marry the first man who came hither." The shepherd looked boldly into the princess' eyes and said: "Thou hast told me I am the first man who has come to thee. Shall we be husband and wife?" The princess gave him her hand. "It is ordained," she said.
"It is a safe assumption that the monster bird that brought me will return for his meal. He can then carry us away." That very night the ziz returned and feasted on the ox, and while it was fully occupied, the shepherd managed to attach strong ropes to its legs. To this he attached a large basket in which he and his bride made themselves comfortable.
Flying low it dashed the basket against a tower. Suddenly the cords snapped, the basket rested on the parapet of the tower, and the bird flew swiftly away. Armed guards appeared. At sight of the princess they lowered their weapons and fell upon their faces.
The king embraced his daughter. Then he caught sight of the shepherd. "What prince art thou?" asked the king. "A prince among men," answered the princess quickly. "A man without riches, who comes from the people and will teach us their needs and how to rule them." The king bowed to the inevitable. He blessed his son-in-law and daughter, appointed them to rule over a province, and they settled down to make everybody thoroughly happy, contented and prosperous.