Rustem therefore hurried on toward the enchanted heights of the Heft- khān, or Seven Mountains. He found every cave guarded by companies of demons, and, consulting with his guide, he determined to make the attack at noonday, when the demons were overpowered by the heat, and were accustomed to sleep. He therefore waited the auspicious hour, and binding Aulād again to a tree, he drew his sword and rushed into the horde of demons, slaying first the few sentinels who were awake, and then rapidly destroying the slumbering fiends. When one awoke he received his death blow so suddenly that he had no time to give the alarm. The mountain ravines received the slaughtered demons, and the few that escaped fled screaming into the deepest caves, and left the Persian victorious upon his chosen field. SEVENTH LABOR—THE WHITE DEMON SLAIN. In this preliminary carnage Rustem had discovered the stronghold of the White Demon, and he determined to give battle to this king of fiends. Advancing to the cavern, he looked down, down into its gloomy recesses— dismal as hell itself—but not one of the sorcerers could be seen. Awhile he stood and waited, holding his faithful falchion in his grasp, until there slowly came in sight a mountain form, with flaming eyes, and covered over with long white hair. The colossal shape filled the mouth of the huge cavern as forth he came, bearing a great stone in one mammoth hand. His fiery breath came quickly, and his eyes flashed with ire, as he haughtily asked: “Art thou so tired of life that reckless thus Thou dost invade the precincts of demons? Tell me thy name, that I may not destroy A nameless thing.” The warrior then replied, “My name is Rustem, sent by Zāl, my father, who was descended from Sām Suwār, to be revenged on thee; the king of Persia being now a prisoner at Mazinderān.” When the demon heard the name of Suwār he cringed with fear. Then springing forward he hurled the huge stone against his adversary who fell back, and thus avoided the fearful blow. The demon frowned more darkly, and Rustem wielding high his sword, severed one dreadful limb. Then they grappled in a death struggle, and the mountain trembled beneath the shock. The flesh of both was torn, and the streaming blood crimsoned the earth. As the fearful strife went on, Rustem said in his heart, “If I survive this dreadful day I am surely immortal,” and the White Demon muttered to himself, “I now despair of life—sweet life—nevermore shall I be welcomed at Mazinderān.”