The Tale of the First Sheik

And so, the first sheik began: Once upon a time, oh Genie, this gazelle was my wife. She also happened to be a magician. We had been married for nearly thirty years, but we had no children. As was allowed then, I married another woman and soon had a baby boy. My first wife was very jealous of the young boy and his mother.

When the boy was fifteen years old, I had to go on a trip. While I was gone, my wicked wife used her magic to change my son into a calf and his mother into a cow.

When I returned, she told me, “Your second wife is dead, and your son ran away because he doesn't like you. I don't know where he went.”

For a year I grieved and ate practically nothing. Then, as an important feast approached, I ordered my herdsman to bring me a fat cow to butcher.

He brought me the one that had been my second wife. I rolled up my sleeves and took the knife to kill it, but the cow began to weep. I had never seen a cow cry, and I said to my herdsman, “I can't kill this cow. Please, bring me another.”

He said to me, “This is the best there is. I will kill her for you.”

So he killed the poor cow. But instead of finding meat inside her skin, there was nothing but bones.

“Bring me a calf then,” I ordered. The herdsman brought to me the calf that was my son. The calf also began to cry.

“Do I need to kill this one, too?” said the herdsman.

“No,” I cried, “I will do it myself.” I took the knife in my hand and held it to the throat of the calf.

Just then Scheherazade noticed the light of dawn creeping in through the window, and stopped talking.

“What a wonderful story!” Dunyazad said. “Can you tell me the end?”

“If the king wills me to live another day,” the brave girl replied, “I will finish the tale.”

The king, who was held spellbound by the tale, agreed. “You may live until I have heard the rest of your story.”

That morning, the vizier went to the bedroom, prepared to kill his beloved daughter. He was astonished when the king did not give him the order but went about the business of the day.

When the second night finally fell, Dunyazad said to her sister, Scheherazade, “Please, finish the story of the merchant and the genie.”

“If the king will let me,” said Scheherazade.

“Begin,” said the king.

So, she began: Just as the merchant was about to kill the calf, he saw it weeping and he couldn't bring himself to use the knife.

“Keep this calf among my cattle,” he told his herdsman.

All of this, the sheik told the genie, who listened in wonder.

“Oh, Genie,” the sheik said, “While all this occurred, my wicked wife watched and laughed at her revenge. She turned to me and ordered me to kill the calf, but I would not. Instead I sent it away with my herdsman.”

The next day the herdsman returned. “Oh, my master,” he said. “I have good news for you. My daughter learned magic in her childhood from an old woman. Yesterday, when I brought that calf home, she took one look at it and said, ‘This calf is the son of our master, who has been bewitched by his wicked stepmother. The first fat cow that was killed was the boy's poor mother.’”

“Is this true? Bring her to me now! Bring the calf as well.”

The herdsman brought his daughter and the calf, and all stood before me.

“Oh, please,” I begged, “will you release my son? I will give you everything I own.”

The good girl smiled and answered, “I don't want your riches, but I have two conditions. First, I would like to marry your son. Second, I would like to bewitch the witch who bewitched him.”

The sheik immediately agreed.

The herdsman's daughter took a cup and filled it with a magic potion she kept in a vial. Then she chanted words the sheik could not understand. Instantly, the calf shivered and became a man!

“Then, Genie,” said the sheik, “I married the girl to my son. She ordered my wicked wife brought before us. Then she transformed my wife into this gazelle, who travels with me even unto this day. You see her standing here.”“And that is the end of my story.”

The genie turned to the first sheik and said, “I like your tale. I gladly give you half of this merchant's blood!”

The genie stood and held his sword high.

“Wait, oh Genie,” said the second sheik. “If I tell you an even better tale, about these two dogs, and about what happened to me because of my brothers, will you grant me the other half of this man's blood?”

“If your story is even better,” replied the genie.