because, after all, you are my darling, I’ll open the sack.”
And she did so, and the South Wind crept out; but he looked very crest-fallen, because the Prince, who was a stranger, had seen the whole affair.
“Here is a palm-leaf for the Princess,” said the South Wind; “it was given me by the old phœnix-bird—the only one that was in the whole world. On it he has scribbled with his bill his whole history during the hundred years that he lived; so now she can read it herself. I saw how the phœnix set fire to his own nest, seated himself on it, and was burnt like the Hindoo widow. How the green boughs crackled, and what a smoke and fragrance from the burning nest! At length all was in flames; the old bird was turned to ashes, but his egg lay red and glowing in the fire. It burst with a loud noise, and the young phenix flew out. He is now lord over all the birds, and the only phœnix in the world. He has bitten a hole in that leaf I have given you; that is his greeting to the Princess.”
