They
unlocked the brazen door and entered. The window that looked towards
the Pass of Lope was open. "In this direction," said the astrologer,
"lies the danger; approach, O king, and behold the mystery of the
table."
King Aben Habuz approached the seeming chess-board, on which were
arranged the small wooden effigies, when, to his surprise, he
perceived that they were all in motion. The horses pranced and
curveted, the warriors brandished their weapons, and there was a faint
sound of drums and trumpets, and the clang of arms, and neighing of
steeds; but all no louder, nor more distinct, than the hum of the bee,
or the summer-fly, in the drowsy ear of him who lies at noontide in
the shade.
"Behold, O king," said the astrologer, "a proof that thy enemies are
even now in the field. They must be advancing through yonder
mountains, by the Pass of Lope. Would you produce a panic and
confusion amongst them, and cause them to retreat without loss of
life, strike these effigies with the but-end of this magic lance;
would you cause bloody feud and carnage, strike with the point."
A livid streak passed across the countenance of Aben Habuz; he
seized the lance with trembling eagerness; his gray beard wagged
with exultation as he tottered toward the table: "Son of Abu Ayub,"
exclaimed he, in chuckling tone, "I think we will have a little
blood!"
So saying, he thrust the magic lance into some of the pigmy
effigies, and belabored others with the but-end, upon which the former
fell as dead upon the board, and the rest turning upon each other
began, pell-mell, a chance-medley fight.
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