Chapter V

As the storks heard this word they were fairly beside themselves with joy. They ran so quickly to the door of the ruin that the owl could scarcely follow them. But when they reached the open air the Caliph turned to the owl and said in moved tones:—“Preserver of my life and of the life of my friend, accept not only my eternal gratitude, but myself as your husband!”

He and the vizier then turned towards the East, three times they bowed their long necks towards the rising sun and cried “Mutabor,” and in a moment they were restored to their former state, and Caliph and vizier fell into each other’s arms and embraced, congratulating each other upon the joy of their newly-found life.

But who shall describe their astonishment when they looked round and saw a lovely lady, gorgeously attired, standing before them. Smilingly she gave her hand to the Caliph. “Do you not recognise your wife, the brown owl?” said she.

The Caliph was so enraptured at the sight of her beauty and grace that he declared the most fortunate thing that had ever happened to him was to be turned into a stork.

The three set out towards Bagdad together. As the Caliph found in his pockets not only the magic snuff-box, but his purse also, he was able to purchase in the next village all the necessaries required for their journey, and so they were able to push forward, and soon reached the gates of Bagdad.

Arrived there, the greatest astonishment prevailed at the sight of the Caliph and his companions. He had been given up for dead, and the populace was overjoyed to welcome back their beloved ruler, but their hatred towards the usurper Mizra was as great in proportion.

The people crowded into the palace and seized upon the old magician and his son. The Caliph ordered the old man to be taken to the apartment of the ruin the owl had inhabited, and there to be hanged, but the son, who was ignorant of his father’s magic arts, the Caliph gave the choice of death or a pinch of snuff. He chose the latter, and the vizier at once offered him the snuff-box. He took a mighty pinch, and, the Caliph pronouncing the magic word, he at once became transformed into a stork. The Caliph had a large cage made for him which he ordered to be placed in his gardens, and in which Mizra was confined for the rest of his life.

Long and happily the Caliph lived with his wife, the princess, the pleasantest hours of the day being when the grand vizier paid his afternoon call, and they talked together of their curious experiences as storks, and when the Caliph was in a particularly good humour he would condescend to imitate the vizier as he looked when a stork: he would strut stiffly up and down the room, flap his arms as if they were wings, and bow towards the East, vainly striving to recollect the forgotten word. This performance gave the Calipha and her children the greatest delight, but when the Caliph teased the vizier too sorely and croaked “Mu-Mu-Mu-” for too great a length of time, the vizier would threaten his master—“I will tell the Calipha what took place outside the door of the owl princess’s chamber!”