After this he slept; and Raksh now grazed, and now galloped over the plain.

Now it so happened that there was a great dragon that had its bed in this part of the desert.  So mighty a beast was it, that not even a Genius had dared to pass by that way.  The dragon was astonished to see a man asleep and a horse by his side, and began to make its way to the horse.  Raksh did as he had been bidden, and running towards his master, stamped with his feet upon the ground.  Rustem awoke, and seeing nothing when he looked about him—­for the dragon meanwhile had disappeared—­was not a little angry.  He rebuked Raksh, and went to sleep again.  Then the dragon came once more out of the darkness, and the horse ran with all speed to his master, tearing up the ground and kicking.  A second time the sleeper awoke, but as he saw nothing but darkness round him, he was greatly enraged, and said to his faithful horse: 

“Why do you disturb me?  If it wearies you to see me asleep, yet you cannot bring the night to an end.  I said that if a lion came to attack you, I would protect you; but I did not tell you to trouble me in this way.  Verily, if you make such a noise again, I will cut off your head and go on foot, carrying all my arms and armor with me to Mazanderan.”

A third time Rustem slept, and a third time the dragon came.  This time Raksh, who did not venture to come near his master, fled over the plain; he was equally afraid of the dragon and of Rustem.  Still his love for his master did not suffer him to rest.  He neighed and tore up the earth, till Rustem woke up again in a rage.  But this time God would not suffer the dragon to hide himself, and Rustem saw him through the darkness, and, drawing his sword, rushed at him.

But first he said, “Tell me your name; my hand must not tear your soul from your body before I know your name.”

The dragon said, “No man can ever save himself from my claws; I have dwelt in this desert for ages, and the very eagles have not dared to fly across.  Tell me then your name, bold man.  Unhappy is the mother that bore you.”

“I am Rustem, son of Zal of the white hair,” said the hero, “and there is nothing on earth that I fear.”

Then the dragon threw itself upon Rustem.  But the horse Raksh laid back his ears, and began to tear the dragon’s back with his teeth, just as a lion might have torn it.

The hero stood astonished for a while; then, drawing his sword, severed the monster’s head from his body.  Then, having first bathed, he returned thanks to God, and mounting on Raksh, went his way.

All that day he traveled across the plain, and came at sunset to the land of the magicians.  Just as the daylight was disappearing, he spied a delightful spot for his night’s encampment.  There were trees and grass, and a spring of water.  And beside the spring there was a flagon of red wine, and a roast kid, with bread and salt and confectionery neatly arranged.  Rustem dismounted, unsaddled his horse, and looked with astonishment at the provisions thus prepared.  It was the meal of certain magicians, who had vanished when they saw him approach.