He bravely urged his splendid horse toward the foe, and the warriors closed in a long and doubtful struggle. At last, however, Rustem caught him by the belt and dragged him from his horse. He intended to drive his captive thus to the Persian king, but the belt gave way and the Tartar fell upon the ground, and was quickly borne off by his own warriors, but not before Rustem had snatched off the monarch’s crown, which he carried away as a trophy with the broken girdle. The fight now became general again, and the earth shook with the trampling of the steeds; the drums rattled; loud clamors from the troops echoed around, and by the mailed hands of contending warriors many a life was sacrificed. With his huge mace, cow-headed, Rustem flooded the ground with the crimson blood of his foes, and wherever seen he was impatiently urging forward his fiery horse. Severed heads fell like the withered leaves in autumn when he brandished his sword, horseman and steed falling together. On that dreadful day, with sword and dagger, battle-ax and noose,[250] he cut and tore, and broke and bound the brave, slaying and making captive. The Tartar hordes fled in dismay, and their black banner trailed upon the earth until captured by the Persian troops. Day after day the conquered legions pursued their noiseless retreat, for neither drum nor trumpet told their foes which way they took. The Persian host, burdened with a multitude of prisoners, fell slowly back to the capital, where Rustem was received with the wildest demonstrations of joy. Soon there came from Tūrān a messenger bearing proposals of peace. To this the Persian king replied that the war had not been of his seeking, but he would accept the overtures of peace upon condition that Afrāsiyāb take his solemn oath never to cross the boundary line formed by the river Jihun, or disturb the Persian throne again. Peace was accordingly concluded, and the highest honors were conferred upon Rustem and Zāl. Rustem was appointed captain general of the armies, under the title of the “champion of the world.” He was also given a golden crown, and the privilege was granted him of giving audience while seated upon a golden throne. THE WHITE DEMON. After many years a new king, Kai-kaus,[251] ascended the Persian throne. Lacking the wisdom of his father, he sought the fascinations of the wine cup, and while under this influence he astonished and mortified his people by his intense self-admiration and pride. One day, when he was half-crazed with his favorite beverage, a demon, disguised as a musician, waited upon him and sang a song extolling the beauties of Mazinderān: