The princess could obtain nothing more of Bahman.  He bade adieu to her and prince Perviz for the last time, and rode away.  When he got into the road he never turned to the right hand nor to the left, but went direftly forward towards India.  The twentieth day he perceived on the road side a hideous old man, who sat under a tree some small distance from a thatched house, which was his retreat from the weather.

His eye-brows were as white as snow, as was also the hair of his head; his whiskers covered his mouth, and his beard and hair reached down to his feet.  The nails of his hands and feet were grown to an extensive length; a flat broad umbrella covered his head.  He had no clothes, but only a mat thrown round his body.

This old man was a dervish, for many years retired from the world, to give himself up entirely to the service of God; so that at last be became what we have described.

Prince Bahman, who had been all that morning very attentive to see if he could meet with any body who could give him information of the place he was in search of, stopped when he came near the dervish, alighted, in conformity to the directions which the devout woman had given the princess Perie-zadeh, and leading his horse by the bridle, advanced towards him, and saluting him, said, “God prolong your days, good father, and grant you the accomplishment of your desires.”

The dervish returned the prince’s salutation, but so unintelligibly that he could not understand one word he said:  prince Bahman perceiving that this difficulty proceeded from the dervish’s whiskers hanging over his mouth, and unwilling to go any farther without the instructions he wanted, pulled out a pair of scissors he had about him, and having tied his horse to a branch of the tree, said, “Good dervish, I want to have some talk with you:  but your whiskers prevent my understanding what you say:  and if you will consent, I will cut off some part of them and of your eye-brows, which disfigure you so much that you look more like a bear than a man.”

The dervish did not oppose the offer; and when the prince had cut off as much hair as he thought fit, he perceived that the dervish had a good complexion, and that he did not seem so old as he really was.  “Good dervish,” said he, “if I had a glass I would shew you how young you look:  you are now a man, but before nobody could tell what you were.”

The kind behaviour of prince Bahman made the dervish smile, and return his compliment.  “Sir,” said he, “whoever you are, I am obliged by the good office you have performed, and am ready to shew my gratitude by doing any thing in my power for you.  You must have alighted here upon some account or other.  Tell me what it is, and I will endeavour to serve you.”

“Good dervish,” replied prince Bahman, “I am in search of the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water; I know these three rarities are not far from hence, but cannot tell exactly the place where they are to be found; if you know, I conjure you to shew me the way, that I may not lose my labour after so long a journey.”