Nourmahal: An Oriental Romance (Complete‪)‬

In no part of our oriental world are there to be found bolder or more picturesque mountain ranges, or a greater variety of climate, fruits, flowers, and animals, than in that tract of country which lies beyond the grand chain of the Himalas. Although the snow and the cloud seldom disappear, which prevent their stupendous peaks from being seen in all their naked majesty, nevertheless the wanderer looks with delight upon their numerous declivities and valleys, clothed in green herbage, interspersed with villages, and animated by herds and flocks, which abundantly reward the cares of their pastoral population. Sometimes standing upon an abrupt ridge, after having ascended through a wild accumulation of rocks, he beholds, spreading at his feet, a dell irrigated by streams that fall from the surrounding heights with a pleasing murmur, and occupied by cottages near which the amaranth, the convolvulus, the primrose and the hyacinth, blend their charms in gay luxuriance. Passing through the hospitable valley, he clambers higher up the mountain, and treads through copses, the haunt of the wild goat, red and white deer, and a peculiar species of fox remarkable for it fleetness. The copse leads to the forest, tenanted by that elegant bird the bee-eater, whose brown back and yellow neck form so striking a contrast with the bright emerald of his breast and wings; by the flamingo, that sometimes lightens in the firmament like a meteor; the ring-dove, the starling, the nightingale, and above all the ouzell, whose body has stolen the blush of the rose, while its proud head seems to have been just dipped in the azure of the skies.

More than a thousand years have passed since the volcano and the earthquake filled that region with terror; but the traces of their fearful visitation appear to be of yesterday. Enormous bulks of rocks, rent asunder, present abysses through which the torrent rolls unseen, but not unheard, as innumerable caverns multiply its voice of thunder, while it contends against the fallen masses that momentarily resist its course. And yet it is delicious to contemplate the borders of those unfathomable channels, overhung by thickets of barberries and jasmines, and myriads of flowering shrubs, which send forth a spicy fragrance, and decorate the gloomy horror beneath with festoons of the most exquisite beauty.

On the edge of one of those dangerous ravines, in the district of Arjun, Kazim Ayas found himself expecting the return of his falcon, that had plunged into it after a quail. He had brought out the bird rather as a companion than for the purpose of sport, to which he was not much addicted. He had but recently returned to his native village among the mountains of Arjun, from the city of Samarcand, where he had obtained his education, at the celebrated college founded by the munificence of Ulug Beg. The poems of Nizami were much more delightful to his ear than the sound of the hunter’s horn, especially those which paint in such fascinating colours the loves of Leili and Mejnun. For him, also, the moral compositions of Jami possessed peculiar charms. The elegance of language and versification, the sublimity of thought, the strain of religious and philosophical mysticism which characterise the effusions of that bard, often held the soul of Kazim bound in the spell of enchantment. Nor did he fail to render himself familiar with almost every branch of science, and with the historians who have related the fortunes of all the great empires.

As the sun was fast descending beneath a canopy of gold and purple clouds, Kazim expected anxiously the re-appearance of the hawk, which he would not have lost for a hundred-fold its weight in diamonds; it was the first gift he had received from Mangeli, the idol of his soul from infancy, to whom he had been already for three happy years united. Holding by the branch of a willow which hung down low into the ravine, he ventured to descend over broken rocks, whence, by the aid of gigantic ferns depending from the sides of the fissure, he lowered himself safely to a considerable distance from the summit. Through the dim twilight, he perceived the hawk struggling with its prey, among some fragments in the midst of the raging flood below. He called it repeatedly by its well-known name; but the noble bird, bent on victory, would not surrender the advantage it had already gained. In the contest, both the combatants fell into the torrent, which bore them away in an instant from his sight.

Kazim resolved to dare every danger rather than lose the falcon. Guided by the sound of the torrent, he trod his way through the fissure, until it closed above his head, excluding altogether the light of day. Though exposed every moment to the risk of falling over precipices, made slippery by the perpetual dropping of water from the masses overhead, nevertheless he penetrated through the dark hollows of the mountain, until his steps were checked by what he afterwards discovered to be a lake, in whose ample bosom the roar of the waters, which had almost stunned his ear, was subdued to silence.

Again and again he called to the falcon, shouting as loudly as his voice would permit, but he was only replied to by a thousand vibrations, which bore the name along the waters, until at length it died away in the distant labyrinths of the cavern. While pausing in wonder at the effect his exertions produced, he descried afar in the heart of the mountain, several sparkles of fire, followed by a flame, that, after flickering for a moment, disappeared. His first impulse was to retrace his steps without delay; but, before he could withdraw his gaze from the spot where the mystic light was kindled, it again came like a star, dimly seen through a cloud, and shooting forth rays all round it. Gradually it grew larger and more brilliant, until Kazim felt that it was approaching rapidly towards the place where he stood. Presently, the outline of a boat was visible, and then dark forms cast their shadows on the water; slight undulations, shining at quick and regular intervals at each side of the vessel, betrayed the speed with which the oars were plied, and created so much alarm in the mind of Kazim, that he sought concealment behind a projecting rock; whence, however, he could watch the progress of the bark.

As the vessel came nearer, Kazim perceived that one of the group, who wore a Mogul cap embroidered with gold thread, appeared to be treated by his companions with some degree of distinction. To him they looked for directions as to the course which they were now to pursue, having already arrived in the middle of the lake. Without uttering a word, the chieftain took a torch in his hand, and pointing towards the rock behind which Kazim had sought refuge, desired the boat to be steered in that direction.