slipped his halter. The young girl in her embarrassment let him go, and
for modesty took refuge in the tent of a friend. The stallion remained
on the spot until the girl returned. She seized the halter and took him
to the stables.

But her father discerned the anxiety which she could not conceal. He
questioned her, and she told him what had happened. He became furious
with rage on hearing her story, for he was naturally choleric; he ran
among the tents, flinging off his turban, and crying at the top of his
voice, while all the Arabs crowded round him, "Tribe of Byah, tribe of
Byah! Kinsmen and friends, hear me." Then he related what his daughter
had told him. "I cannot permit," he added, "that the blood of my horse
should be blended with that of Helweh; yet I am not willing to sell him
for the most costly sheep and camels; and if I cannot otherwise prevent
Helweh from bearing a colt to my stallion, I shall be glad if some one
will put the mare to death." "By all means," cried his listeners, "do as
you please, for we can have no objection." Such were the usual terms of
Arabian courtesy.

Nevertheless, Helweh, in course of time, bore a fine colt, whose birth
brought great joy to her master. He named the young horse Dahir. The
colt waxed in strength and beauty, until he actually excelled his sire
Ocab. His chest was broad, his neck long, his hoofs hard, his nostrils
widely expanded. His tail swept the ground, and he was of the gentlest
temper; in short, he was the most perfect creature ever seen. Being
reared with the greatest care, his shape was perfect as the archway of a
royal palace. When the mare Helweh, followed by her colt, was one day
moving along the shore of a lake, Ocab's owner chanced to see them. He
seized the young horse, and took him home with him, leaving his mother
in grief for his difference. "As for Jahir," he said, "this colt belongs