among the tents, and
it was deep peacefulness. Bhanavar led Zoora slowly before the tent of
the Emir, and disburdened Zoora of the helpless weight, and spread the
long fair limbs of the youth lengthwise across the threshold of the
Emir's tent, sitting away from it with clasped hands, regarding it. Ere
long the Emir came forth, and his foot was on the body of his son, and he
knew death on the chin and the eyes of Zurvan, his sole son. Now the Emir
was old, and with the shock of that sight the world darkened before him,
and he gave forth a groan and stumbled over the sunken breast of Zurvan,
and stretched over him as one without life. When Bhanavar saw that old
man stretched over the body of his son, she sickened, and her ear was
filled with the wailings of grief that would arise, and she stood up and
stole away from the habitations of the tribe, stricken with her guilt,
and wandered beyond the mountains, knowing not whither she went, looking
on no living thing, for the sight of a thing that moved was hateful to
her, and all sounds were sounds of lamentation for a great loss.

Now, she had wandered on alone two days and two nights, and nigh morn she
was seized with a swoon of weariness, and fell forward with her face to
the earth, and lay there prostrate, even as one that is adoring the
shrine; and it was on the sands of the desert she was lying. It chanced
that the Chieftain of a desert tribe passed at midday by the spot, and
seeing the figure of a damsel unshaded' by any shade of tree or herb or
tent-covering, and prostrate on the sands, he reined his steed and leaned
forward to her, and called to her. Then as she answered nothing he
dismounted, and thrust his arm softly beneath her and lifted her gently;
and her swoon had the whiteness of death, so that he thought her dead
verily, and the marvel of her great loveliness in death smote the heart
on his ribs as with a blow, and the powers of life went from him a moment
as he looked on her and the long dark wet lashes that clung to her
colourless face, as at night in groves where the betrothed ones wander,
the slender leaves of the acacia spread darkly over the full moon. And he
cried, ''Tis a loveliness that maketh the soul yearn to the cold bosom of
death, so lovely, exceeding all that liveth, is she!'

After he had contemplated her longwhile, he snatched his sight from her,
and swung her swiftly on the back of his mare, and leaned her on one arm,
and sped westward over