THE PRINCE WITH THE GOLDEN HAND 225

The palace spun rapidiy round, fearful sounds filled
the building, thousands of ravens and birds of ill omen
croaked loudly and flapped their wings, and all the doors
opened with a tremendous noise.

Vikher, mounted on his winged horse that breathed fire,
leapt into the mirrored room, then stopped amazed at the
sight before him. He was indeed the hurricane, with the
body of a giant and the head of a dragon, and as he gazed
his horse pranced and beat his wings.

“What is your business here, stranger?” he shouted: and
the sound of his voice was like unto a lion’s roar.

“T am your enemy, and I want your blood,” replied the
prince calmly.

“Your boldness amuses me. At the same time, if you
do not depart at once I will take you in my left hand and
crush every bone in your body with my right.”

“Try, if you dare, woman-stealer,” he answered.

Vikher roared, breathing fire in his rage, and with his
mouth wide open threw himself upon the prince, intending to
swallow him. But the latter stepped lightly aside, and putting
his golden hand down his enemy’s throat, seized him by the
tongue and dashed him against the wall with such force that
the monster bounded against it like a ball, and died within a
few moments, shedding torrents of blood.

The prince then drew from different springs the water
that restores, that revives, and that makes young, and taking
the unconscious girl in his arms he led the winged horse to
the door and said:

“ Silver Palace, oh turn, on thy foot turn thou free,

To the steep rocks thy back, the courtyard may I see.”
P