Isfendiyār retired sadly to his tent and wrote a letter to his father, saying: “Thy commands must be obeyed, and Heaven only knows what may befall to-morrow.” When Rustem arrived at his court Zāl discovered that he, as well as his gallant steed, was terribly wounded. The old chieftain carefully dressed the wounds of his son, and Rustem said to his father: “I never met with any foe, be he warrior or demon, with such amazing strength and bravery as this. He seems to have a brazen body, for my arrows, which I can drive through an anvil, cannot penetrate his chest. If I had applied the strength which I have exerted to a mountain it would have been moved from its base, but he sat firmly in his saddle and scorned my efforts.” “Let us not despair,” replied the father. “Did not the Sīmūrgh promise her assistance in the time of greatest need.” So saying, Zāl took the precious feather, which had been only slightly burned before, and going out upon the cliff he burned it in a censer. The darkness grew deeper for a moment, and then there was the rush of mighty wings, as the mountain bird circled slowly down out of the darkness and stood in her rich and massive beauty beside her foster child, now an old and retired warrior. Zāl’s eye lighted up with hope and love as he gently laid his hand upon her golden plumage and told her of his sad affliction. The faithful Rakush stood near by with drooping head and bleeding form, and he first caught the eye of the loving mother-bird. Going to him she pulled out the cruel arrows with her beak, and gently passed the feathers of her wing over the wounds; they quickly healed, and the old war horse raised his gallant head and stamped his feet impatiently as if he longed again to hear the trumpet call to battle. The Sīmūrgh then went to Rustem and soothed him with the gentle caresses of her head and beak, and drawing forth the hidden darts from his body she sucked the poisoned blood from out the gaping wounds, and then they closed and healed; so the champion was soon restored to life and strength. Being thus invigorated under her magic care, he sought her aid in the battle of the coming day. But the bird replied: “There never appeared a more brave and perfect hero than Isfendiyār, for in his Heft-khān he succeeded in killing a Sīmūrgh, and the further thou art removed from his invincible arrow the greater will be thy safety.”