days of battle, and had decided to take the oasis so as to be able to return to the war.
The tribal chieftain said that he felt sorry for the tribesmen, but that the Tradition was sacred. He condemned the commander to death without honor. Rather than being killed by a blade or a bullet, he was hanged from a dead palm tree, where his body twisted in the desert wind.
The tribal chieftain called for the boy, and presented him with fifty pieces of gold. He repeated his story about Joseph of Egypt, and asked the boy to become the counselor of the oasis.
WHEN THE SUN HAD SET, AND THE FIRST STARS MADE their appearance, the boy started to walk to the south. He eventually sighted a single tent, and a group of Arabs passing by told the boy that it was a place inhabited by genies. But the boy sat down and waited.
Not until the moon was high did the alchemist ride into view. He carried two dead hawks over his shoulder.
“I am here,” the boy said.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the alchemist answered. “Or is it your Personal Legend that brings you here?”
“With the wars between the tribes, it’s impossible to cross the desert. So I have come here.”
The alchemist dismounted from his horse, and signaled that the boy should enter the tent with him. It was a tent like many at the oasis. The boy looked around for the ovens and other apparatus used in alchemy, but saw none. There were only some books in a pile, a small cooking stove, and the carpets, covered with mysterious designs.
“Sit down. We’ll have something to drink and eat these hawks,”
said the alchemist.
The boy suspected that they were the same hawks he had seen on the day before, but he said nothing. The alchemist lighted the fire, and soon a delicious aroma filled the tent. It was better than the scent of the hookahs.
“Why did you want to see me?” the boy asked.
“Because of the omens,” the alchemist answered. “The wind told me you would be coming, and that you would need help.”
“It’s not I the wind spoke about. It’s the other foreigner, the Englishman. He’s the one that’s looking for you.”
“He has other things to do first. But he’s on the right track. He has begun to try to understand the desert.”
“And what about me?”
“When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream,” said the alchemist, echoing the words of the old king. The boy understood.
Another person was there to help him toward his Personal Legend.
“So you are going to instruct me?”
“No. You already know all you need to know. I am only going to point you in the direction of your treasure.”
“But there’s a tribal war,” the boy reiterated.
“I know what’s happening in the desert.”
“I have already found my treasure. I have a camel, I have my money from the crystal shop, and I have fifty gold pieces. In my own country, I would be a rich man.”
“But none of that is from the Pyramids,” said the alchemist.
“I also have Fatima. She is a treasure greater than anything else I have won.”
“She wasn’t found at the Pyramids, either.”
They ate in silence. The alchemist opened a bottle and poured a red liquid into the boy’s cup. It was the most delicious wine he had ever tasted.
“Isn’t wine prohibited here?” the boy asked
“It’s not what enters men’s mouths that’s evil,” said the alchemist. “It’s what comes out of their mouths that is.”
The alchemist was a bit daunting, but, as the boy drank the wine, he relaxed. After they finished eating they sat outside the tent, under a moon so brilliant that it made the stars pale.
“Drink and enjoy yourself,” said the alchemist, noticing that the boy was feeling happier. “Rest well tonight, as if you were a warrior preparing for combat. Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure. You’ve got to find the treasure, so that everything you have learned along the way can make sense.
“Tomorrow, sell your camel and buy a horse. Camels are traitorous: they walk thousands of paces and never seem to tire.
Then suddenly, they kneel and die. But horses tire bit by bit. You always know how much you can ask of them, and when it is that they are about to die.”
THE FOLLOWING NIGHT, THE BOY APPEARED AT THE alchemist’s tent with a horse. The alchemist was ready, and he mounted his own steed and placed the falcon on his left shoulder. He said to the boy, “Show me where there is life out in the desert. Only those who can see such signs of life are able to find treasure.”
They began to ride out over the sands, with the moon lighting their way. I don’t know if I’ll be able to find life in the desert, the boy thought. I don’t know the desert that well yet.
He wanted to say so to the alchemist, but he was afraid of the man. They reached the rocky place where the boy had seen the hawks in the sky, but now there was only silence and the wind.
“I don’t know how to find life in the desert,” the boy said. “I know that there is life here, but I don’t know where to look.”
“Life attracts life,” the alchemist answered.
And then the boy understood. He loosened the reins on his horse, who galloped forward over the rocks and sand. The alchemist followed as the boy’s horse ran for almost half an hour. They could no longer see the palms of the oasis—only the gigantic moon above them, and its silver reflections from the stones of the desert.
