The rider, having watched Ibrahim, waved at him to come closer,
then having at close quarters smeared him with his slimy sight,
“Is your water good for drinking?”
“Is your horse wise?” Ibrahim answered sensibly.
“My horse is wise like grand vizier, and cunning like a dervish.”
“Why do you ask then, if the water is good, seeing how your
horse flicks his ears out of joy at the sight of it?”
“Allah!” said the rider, “You speak reason. Do you scoop your
wisdom from the well? Give me a drink.” Ibrahim thought for
a while; then, having looked at him oddly, he spake:
“Has your horse carried you, or have you carried the horse?
Therefore I will water your horse first.”
“The horse will neither smash your head, nor call you son of
swain. I can easily do the former and the latter, though.”
“You rightly say,” answered Ibrahim sweetly, “Therefore I will
water your horse first.”