TITLE PAGE
GERMAN

SINDBAD'S THIRD VOYAGE
After the story of the second voyage there followed a short pensive pause; then rich Sindbad addressed the poor carrier Sindbad as follows: "So you see, my friend, that one can only amass wealth at the risk of one's life. As a labourer, you do not risk looking death in the face. Remember then: the gain corresponds to the investment!" Sindbad the Sailor beckoned to a slave and had him bring one hundred gold mithkals as a gift for the carrier. Sindbad the Sailor's guests sat there well-contented and of good cheer, and were still under the spell of the wondrous tale when their host began the story of his third voyage."I must tell you, noble gentlemen, that the tale of the roc is not yet over. After all the dangers, misery and distress I had to endure, the sea devil induced my poor tortured soul to recount the adventure of the extraordinary roc bird and its egg to a group of my Baghdad friends - the evil spirit was obviously determined not to give me up. My tale was received with scepticism, which was deeply wounding to my pride and vanity. I equipped a large tall newly rigged ship, and challenged the doubters to accompany me to the island so that I could convince them there and then of the truth of my words. When we arrived at the bleak desert island, we could see from afar the gleaming dome: the egg of the roc bird. My friends and guests, the merchants, disembarked and, although they were full of amazement, they were still not convinced that such a huge bird could exist which would be capable of laying an egg of that size. They rather thought that this shimmering round object was a freak of nature. Therefore they wantonly began to bombard the shell of the egg with large stones until it broke. -

My lucky star brought me to an island resembling the Garden of Eden with its shimmering fruit trees, flowers, clear streams and warbling birds. Little did I know what new trials awaited me here. Close by I saw a little old mal with long grey hair sitting on the bank of a strem: the colour of his skin was green like the unripe fruit of a banana tree. He indicated to me that he wanted to cross to the other side of the stream. As I felt sorry for the old man, I took him up on my back intending to carry him over. But no sooner had I lifted him up than the scoundrel sat on my shoulders, his legs so firmly around my throat that I was unable to breathe and I was afraid I was about to lose consciousness.

After weeks at sea under good conditions we reached a city with high buildings called the City of Monkeys because there were so many monkeys in the area that they actually caome into the city and pestered the inhabitants. In this City of Monkeys there was a prosperous trade in coconuts. The residents had a strange manner of taking possession of the goods.

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