Early in the morning Daimur was up and astir, and after breakfast he went for a walk alone. As he went along he thought of the stories he had heard, but most of all he thought of Prince Tasmir and wondered if he were still alive.

He had come to a clear space in the depths of the wood, and being rather tired, he leaned against a large tree, and looking up at the sky through the branches said aloud to himself:

“I wonder where Tasmir is?”

“I am here,” said a faint voice immediately back of him.

Quite startled, Daimur turned sharply around and looked behind him. There was no one in sight. He looked into the branches of the tree against which he was leaning, thinking it might have been the voice of a dove, but there was nothing to be seen. But he noticed that the leaves of the tree were dropping, and what was still more strange on that island, it was a laurel tree, and not a fruit tree.

“Tasmir,” he murmured in a low tone, “where are you?”

“I am here,” came the voice again, “in this tree, and more dead than alive.”

Immediately Daimur put on his spectacles, and standing back looked at the tree. He could see imprisoned in the center of the trunk a young man with a pale, thin face. His eyes were wild and his hair long, and he looked back at Daimur with such a sad expression.

“Poor, poor fellow,” said Daimur, “your plight is worse than your brother’s. This is more of the Evil Magician’s work.”

“Yes, he has enchanted me, and I am slowly dying,” answered Tasmir in a weak voice. “You can see that the leaves of my tree are dropping.”

“What can I do to save you?” cried Daimur.

“You must make a hole in the side of the tree and let the sap run out. When it has all run away the tree will dry up in a day, and I will be able to break through the wood, as it will be brittle like dried-up egg shell. You will have to do it at once, however, as I cannot last much longer than another day. I am nearly drowned now with sap.”

Daimur hastily drew out his knife, and finding a place where some bushes grew close against the tree he pulled them back and began cutting a hole in the bark. He worked for more than an hour before he had penetrated through to the pith. Then the sap burst forth and ran out in a stream, sinking into the earth at the root.

“It will not be dry until night,” said the poor prisoner, “and then perhaps I will be able to break my way out.”

Daimur, who had been consulting his cap, now found that the Magician was moving around the island, so he left the sap to drain away and hurried back to the cave where he lay hidden for the rest of the day.

After supper Daimur called Prince Redmond to one side.

“Redmond,” said he, “I have news of your brother Tasmir; he is still living.”

At this Redmond was so overjoyed that he almost fainted, but after a moment recovered himself and asked Daimur to tell where his brother was and what he knew of him.

Then Daimur told him about his walk in the forest that morning, and how he had heard Tasmir’s voice come out of the tree. When he had finished Redmond was in a great flutter of excitement and happiness, and wanted to go at once and see if the sap had all drained away.

Daimur put on his cap again, and having ascertained that the Magician was safe in his house, he led the way to the great laurel tree, where they could see by the light of the moon that the sap had ceased to run. The tree was drying up.

“Is it dry enough yet?” he called softly to Tasmir.

“No, not yet,” came the faint answer from the tree, “but it is drying fast.”

Daimur sat down on the ground to wait, and Prince Redmond perched in a neighboring tree, so excited at the prospect of seeing his dearly loved brother alive that he could hardly keep his hold on the branch.

After a while they heard a faint cracking noise like the breaking of glass, and Daimur immediately jumped to his feet.

“Can I not help you?” he called softly.

“Yes,” answered Tasmir, “you must cut the bark. I am so weak I will not be able to break that. Cut a slit in it right up the tree.”

This Daimur did, slitting it for above five feet up from the root. No sooner had he stepped back than there was a great rending sound, the bark flew open, and out staggered the poor thin young prince, so weak and faint from his efforts that he could not stand, but had to lie for a while on the grass. His brother Redmond at once fluttered to his side and cried out how glad he was to see him, and that he had never expected to behold him again alive.

“Is it you, dear Redmond?” asked Tasmir. “I never expected to be able to speak to you again. I knew you, although you did not know me, and often watched you flying past. I tried to call you, but you never heard me. I would have been dead in a few hours’ time had it not been for this good young man,” he said, and he turned gratefully towards Daimur, who was pushing together the bark on the tree so that the slit would not be noticed.

They waited until Prince Tasmir had taken some of the biscuits and water, and a few of the nuts that they had brought with them, and felt strong enough to walk, and then they made their way slowly back to the cave, where much excitement prevailed at the appearance of Tasmir and the story of his rescue.

He was made to lie down and rest, and more food was pressed upon him, and the food and the fresh sea breeze which blew into the cave soon revived him.

They told him all about themselves and their plans, and it was agreed that he would be of great assistance to Daimur in helping to make their escape.

After a while when Tasmir had become quite rested, he turned to Redmond and said:

“My dear brother, I know that you are anxious to hear how I came into the Evil Magician’s hands, and I now feel well enough to tell you my story.”

All chatter immediately ceased, and everyone sat listening attentively for Tasmir to begin.