“It shall be done,” said the Demon, and, so saying, he stamped his heel
upon the ground. Instantly the earth began to tremble and quake, and
there came a great rumbling like the sound of thunder. A cloud of
darkness gathered in the sky, until at last all was as black as the
blackest midnight. Then came a roaring and a cracking and a crashing,
such as man never heard before. All day it continued, until the time
of the setting of the sun, when suddenly the uproar ceased, and the
darkness cleared away; and when the Tailor looked out of the window
the mountain was gone, and in its place were fields and orchards and
gardens.
It was very beautiful to see, but when the Tailor beheld it his knees
began to smite together, and the sweat ran down his face in streams. All
that night he walked up and down and up and down, but he could not think
of one other task for the Demon to do.
When the next morning came the Demon appeared like a whirlwind. His
face was as black as ink and smoke, and sparks of fire flew from his
nostrils.
“What have you for me to do?” cried he.
“I have nothing for you to do!” piped the poor Tailor.
“Nothing?” cried the Demon.
“Nothing.”
“Then prepare to die.”
“Stop!” cried the Tailor, falling on his knees, “let me first see my
wife.”
“So be it,” said the Demon, and if he had been wiser he would have said
“No.”
When the Tailor came to the princess, he flung himself on his face, and
began to weep and wail. The princess asked him what was the matter, and
at last, by dint of question, got the story from him, piece by piece.
When she had it all she began laughing. “Why did you not come to me
before?” said she, “instead of making all this trouble and uproar for
nothing at all? I will give the Monster a task to do.” She plucked a
single curling hair from her head. “Here,” said she, “let him take this
hair and make it straight.”
The Tailor was full of doubt; nevertheless, as there was nothing better
to do, he took it to the Demon.
“Hast thou found me a task to do?” cried the Demon.
“Yes,” said the Tailor. “It is only a little thing. Here is a hair from
my wife’s head; take it and make it straight.”
When the Demon heard what was the task that the Tailor had set him to do
he laughed aloud; but that was because he did not know. He took the
hair and stroked it between his thumb and finger, and, when he done, it
curled more than ever. Then he looked serious, and slapped it between
his palms, and that did not better matters, for it curled as much as
ever. Then he frowned, and, began beating the hair with his palm upon
his knees, and that only made it worse. All that day he labored and
strove at his task trying to make that one little hair straight, and,
when the sun set, there was the hair just as crooked as ever. Then, as
the great round sun sank red behind the trees, the Demon knew that he
was beaten. “I am conquered! I am conquered!” he howled, and flew away,
bellowing so dreadfully that all the world trembled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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