She made use of that time to satisfy her hatred:
she applied herself to magic, and when she knew enough of that
diabolical art to execute her horrible contrivance, the wretch
carried my son to a desolate place, where, by her enchantments,
she changed my son into a calf, and gave him to my farmer to
fatten, pretending she had bought him. Her fury did not stop at
this abominable action, but she likewise changed the slave into a
cow, and gave her also to the farmer.
At my return, I asked for the mother and child: your slave, says
she, is dead; and for your son, I know not what is become of him:
I have not seen him these two months. I was troubled at the death
of my slave; but my son having also disappeared, as she told me,
I was in hopes he would return in a little time. However, eight
months passed, and I heard nothing of him, When the festival of
the great Bairam happened, to celebrate the same, I sent to my
farmer for one of the fattest cows to sacrifice; and he sent me
one accordingly. The cow which he brought me was my slave, the
unfortunate mother of my son, I tied her, but as I was going to
sacrifice her, she bellowed pitifully and I could perceive
streams of tears run from her eyes. This seemed to me very
extraordinary, and finding myself, in spite of all I could do,
seized with pity, I could not find in my heart to give her the
blow, but ordered my farmer to get me another.
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