As the long line of riders wound through the defiles of the mountains or passed in orderly array across the plains, it presented a picture of splendor and beauty which, even in the gorgeous East, has seldom been surpassed. The young prince's body-guard, mounted on coal-black steeds, rode in advance. They were armed with golden maces and with battle-axes that gleamed like silver, and they carried the red banner of the house of Zal. Then followed the elephants, upon whose backs were the nobility of Zaboulistan, seated in howdahs decked with curtains of embroidered silk and ornamented with flags and waving plumes. After these came a thousand young men, the flower of the land of Iran, riding on horseback, with swords at their sides and long spears resting upon their saddle-bows. The march, moreover, was enlivened with music and song, and nothing was left undone that would give pleasure to the boy or add to the sincerity of the welcome which was to be accorded to the ruler of Seistan.
When at length Rustem saw his grandfather's caravan a long way off, he bade his own retinue stand still, while he, dismounting from his elephant, went forward on foot. And when he drew near and could look into the face of the old prince, he bowed his head to the ground, and cried out, "O mighty ruler of Seistan, and prince of princes in Iran, I am Rustem, thy grandchild! Give me, I pray thee, thy blessing, ere I return to my father's house."
The aged man was astonished, for he saw that not the half had been told him concerning the boy's stature and grace. He commanded his elephant to kneel while he descended and lifted him up and blessed him, and placed him in the howdah beside him; and the two rode side by side into Zaboulistan.
"For more than a hundred years," said the grandfather, "have I been the chief of the princes of Iran, and at no time has anyone arisen to dispute my will. Yet never have my eyes been gladdened as now. I am an old, old man, and you are only a child; but you shall soon sit on my throne and enjoy the pleasures which have been mine, and wield the power both in your father's kingdom and in my own."
"I am glad," answered Rustem, "that I can call you my grandfather. But I care nothing at all for pleasure, and I never think of play, or rest, or sleep. What I want most of all things is a horse of my own, and a hard saddle such as the Turanian riders use, and a coat-of-mail and a helmet like those your warriors have. Then with my lance and my arrows, which I already can use quite well, I will vanquish the enemies of Iran, and my courage shall be like yours and my father's."
This speech pleased the old prince very much, and he blessed Rustem again, and promised him that as soon as he should reach the ordinary stature of a man he should have his wish. During the whole of his stay in Zaboulistan he wanted the boy to be always with him, nor did he care to see anyone else. And when, at the end of the month, messengers came from Seistan with news which obliged him to return, he said to his son, the white-headed Zal: "Remember, that when this child's stature is equal to thine he shall have a horse of his own choosing, a hard saddle like that of a Turanian rider, and a coat-of-mail and a helmet such as we ourselves wear into battle. And forget not this—my last command."
"And see, father," said Rustem, "am I not now almost as tall as you?"
Zal smiled and promised that he would remember.
But before Rustem reached the stature of his father, the good prince of Seistan had passed from the earth, and Zal, himself an old man, had succeeded to his throne. Then news was brought that a vast army of Turanians, the foes of Iran, had come down from the north and were threatening to cross into Persia. They had even cut in pieces an army which the Shah had sent out against them, and messengers had arrived in Zaboulistan beseeching aid from Zal. Then Rustem begged of his father that he might lead a band of young men against the invaders.
"It is true," said he, "that I am only a child in years. But, although I am not quite so tall as you, my stature is now equal to that of ordinary men; and I am skilled in the use of all kinds of weapons. Give me therefore the steed that was promised me, and the mace of my grandfather, and let me go to the succor of Iran."
These words pleased Zal not a little, and he answered: "O my son, thou art still very young, and thy lips smell of milk, and thy days should be given to play. But the times are full of danger, and Iran must look to thee for help."
Then he at once sent out a proclamation into all the Persian provinces, commanding that on the first day of the approaching Festival of Roses all the choicest horses, of whatsoever breed, should be brought to Zaboulistan in order that Rustem might select from among them his steed of battle. For the one that was chosen, its owner should receive mountains of gold in exchange; but should any man conceal a steed of value, or fail to bring it for the prince's inspection, he should be punished without mercy.
the day appointed, the finest horses in all Persia were assembled at Zaboulistan. The most famous breeders from Kabul and the Afghan pasture-lands were there with their choicest stock, and the hill-slopes to the south of the city were white with tents. A caravan of low-browed men from the shores of the Caspian had just arrived, weary with their journey, but proud of their horsemanship and of the clean-limbed, swiftly moving animals which they had brought fresh from the freedom of the steppes, and which they were accustomed to ride at full speed, while standing erect on their saddles. Near them were the tents of a patriarchal sheik, who had come from the distant valley of the Euphrates, bringing his numerous family and his large following of servants and herdsmen, and four matchless Arab coursers, for which he had already refused more than one princely offer. But the greater number of horses had been brought in by the men of Seistan, some of whom were encamped outside the walls, while others lodged with friends and acquaintances in the city. Most of these last had brought only a single animal each, and they had done this not so much for the hope of reward, as for the fear of punishment. Every one had brought the best that he had, and I doubt if the world has ever seen a nobler or more wonderful collection of steeds. ", "At an early hour in the morning, the whole city was astir. Everybody, both within and without the walls, was moving toward the western gate, just outside of which Prince Zal and young Rustem had already taken their stand, in order to inspect the animals that would be presented. A troop of armed men was drawn up in such a way as to form a passage through which the competing horses were to be led directly in front of Rustem. On the top of the wall was a covered pavilion, from which the ladies of Zaboulistan, without being seen, could look down upon the concourse below.
At a given signal, the horses, which had already been brought together at a convenient spot, were led, one by one, before the prince. The first were those of the Zaboulistan herds—strong, beautiful steeds, many of which had been bred and cared for with the sole thought of their being chosen for the use of Rustem.
"Do you desire swiftness?" asked the keeper of the foremost. "Here is a steed that can outstrip the wind."
"Not swiftness only, but strength," answered Rustem. Then he placed his hand upon the horse to see if it could stand that test; and the animal shuddered beneath his grasp and sank upon its haunches from the strength of the pressure. Thus it fared with all the steeds that were brought forward.
"Do you want a perfect steed?" asked the long-bearded sheik from the west. "If so, here are beauty and strength and swiftness and intelligence, all combined in one." And he led forward the largest of his Arabs.
There was a murmur of admiration from all the lookers-on, for seldom, in that land of beautiful horses, had an animal been seen which was in every way so perfect. Rustem said nothing, but quietly subjected the steed to the same test that he had applied to the others. Lastly, the traders from Kabul brought forward a herd of ten which they had carefully selected as the strongest from among all that had been bred in the Afghan pastures. But every one of them quailed beneath Rustem's iron hand.
"Whose is that mare that feeds on the plain beyond your tents?" asked Rustem. "And whose is the colt that follows after her? I see no marks on its flanks."
"We do not know," answered the men from Kabul. "But they have followed us all the way from the Afghan valleys, and we have been unable either to drive them back or to capture them. We have heard it said, however, that men call the colt Rakush, or Lightning, and that, although it has now been three years ready for the saddle, its mother defends it and will let no one touch it."
The colt was a beautiful animal. Its color was that of rose-leaves scattered upon a saffron ground, its chest and shoulders were like those of a lion, and its eyes beamed with the fire of intelligence. Snatching a lariat from the hands of a herdsman, Rustem ran quickly forward and threw the noose over the animal's head. Then followed a terrible battle, not so much with the colt as with its mother. But in the end Rustem was the winner, and the mare retired crestfallen from the field. With a great bound the young prince leaped upon Rakush's back, and the rose-colored steed bore him over the plains with the speed of the wind. But when the animal had become thoroughly tired, he turned at a word from his master and went back to the city gate.
"This is the horse that I choose," said Rustem to his father. "Let us give to the Afghan herdsmen the prize that is due."
"Nay," answered the herdsmen; "if thou be Rustem, take him and save Iran from its foes. For his price is the land of Iran, and, seated upon him, no enemy can stand before thee."
And that is the way in which Rustem won his war steed.