are going to die,” said the father sternly. “For thwarting me in my duties, your life has been shortened.” The youth implored his mercy, falling at his feet and kissing them, till Azrael said more kindly, “Well, come into my workshop, and see if your wits can find a way out of the difficulty. Though I myself am powerless now to help you, it is possible that you may yet help yourself.” They passed through a suite of seven chambers, the sides of which looked like the walls of an apothecary’s shop, being covered with shelves on which were all sorts of bottles, urns and boxes; each of which, as Azrael explained, contained the means of death for some human being. Taking down a vessel, he unscrewed its metal lid, and it seemed to the son as if some air escaped. “A certain youth,” he explained “has to die within a few minutes by a fall from his horse, and I have just let loose the ‘afrìt’ who will scare that horse.” Of a second vessel he said, “This contains egg-shells of the safat, a strange bird, which never alights, even when mating. Its eggs are laid while on the wing and hatched before they reach the ground. The shells only fall to the earth, for the young are able to fly as soon as they leave the egg. These shells are often found and devoured by the greedy and blood-thirsty shibeh,[1] which goes mad in consequence and bites every creature that comes in its way, thus spreading hydrophobia and giving me plenty of work.”
- ↑ Shibeh (lit. “the leaper”) is one of the names of the leopard. But in folk-lore it is described as a creature combining the characteristics of the badger and the hyæna.
