146 THE WONDER-BOOK OF HORSES 



IV. THE PITFALL 



Never in all the East was there a hero that 

 could be likened unto Rustem, and never a horse 

 that could in any way be compared with Rakush. 

 Many years passed by, — years of peace and years 

 of war, — and many Shahs sat upon the throne of 

 Iran, but the real power was in the hands of 

 Rustem of Zaboulistari. And although he lived 

 to a great age, and Rakush was so ^'^ery, very old 

 that he was no longer of the color of rose-leaves, 

 but white as the snow of winter, yet both of them 

 retained their strength and their wisdom to the 

 end. And the end came in this way: 



The king of Kabul had become tired of paying 

 tribute to Rustem, and he resolved, if possible, to 

 bring about the old hero's death, and thus free 

 himself from that burden. Hence, by the advice 

 of his nobles, he invited Rustem to visit him in his 

 country palace, where the) could spend the sum- 

 mer months in hunting and in other amusements, 

 of which both were very fond. Rustem sus- 

 pected no guile, for he had enjoyed the king's hos- 

 pitality many times before. He therefore ac- 

 cepted the invitation, and with Rakush and a 



