Chapter the Third.
Istanistan is a rugged and mountainous country: mountainous because it was so made by the Creator, and rugged because the natives lay down rugs wherever they go. The weaving of rugs is the largest national industry. Since the rugs are well made, they last for generations; and since Istanistan, isolated as it is, has no trading relations with other states, the rugs accumulate much faster than they wear. In the capital city of Notsobad, rugs cover all the streets. Rugs are laid down on all the highways radiating from the capital; rugs are laid in the yards of the simple but comfortable cottages of the farmers; the very cattle stand on rugs to graze. Nearly everything that stands still long enough has a rug thrown over it, so that eventually the whole country is rugged.
When I arrived at the border I found it unguarded, with only a fading dashed line drawn across the rug to indicate that I was leaving Duvetistan and entering Istanistan. From there the journey to Notsobad took me over rugged mountain passes and through lush rugged valleys, until at last the minarets and maxarets of Notsobad came into view.
The guards at the city gate were all asleep, and I wondered whether I ought to trouble them at all. I recalled, however, the oft-repeated precept of my mother, who, when I was a small child, lost no opportunity to tell me, “When entering the capital of a remote mountain kingdom, always awaken the guards at the gate and ascertain whether there may be any quaint local ceremonies called for on the occasion.” A mother’s wisdom is not to be disregarded lightly. I therefore gave a loud whistle (which my mother had also taught me), awakening the guards, who at once proceeded to drape a light and intricately patterned carpet over my shoulders. Thus suitably rugged, I was conducted straight to the royal palace.
The palace was a maze of high-ceilinged passages, the ceilings having been built high so that the best productions of the native weavers could be displayed on the walls and suspended from the rafters as well as on the floor. With the aid of an unerring guide, however, I made my way quickly to the royal audience chamber, where I found the Shah himself seated before a colossal loom weaving a colossal rug.
“The people of Istanistan rejoice as one man at the arrival of our distinguished guest,” the Shah said, still flinging the shuttle with marvelous dexterity. “Or, as we understand is the proper formula in your own native land: What ho, old chap, and all that sort of rot.”
“Her Majesty sends her personal regards,” I replied, “and has asked me to inform you that she particularly desires the friendship of the Istanistani people.”
“Well, that’s frightfully decent of her,” said the Shah. “Of course, any alliance we might enter into would depend on her performance in our competitive examination.”
“Competitive examination?”
“Yes. You see, my late father, may his name be blessed, dedicated his reign to placing all matters of government and diplomacy on a rational basis. It was his persistence that created the rational society Istanistan enjoys today, in which favoritism is unknown, and merit is the only criterion by which appointments are made and alliances formed.”
“But I had understood, from what little information has reached us about your delightful country, that yours was a hereditary monarchy.”
The Shah smiled broadly at this observation. “Indeed it is, most worshipful old bean. Astute of you to point out what might be a fatal contradiction in the whole gosh-darn system, as it were. But my father, peace be upon his crumbling remains, considered that conundrum and worked out the solution. When the time came to produce an heir, he chose my mother by competitive examination, so that I could not fail to inherit the qualities necessary in a monarch from both familial lines.”
“Ah,” said I, “so there was no need of a competitive examination in your case.”
“Oh, but indeed there was. I was subjected to numerous examinations.”
“But against whom did you compete?”
“I competed against myself. You see, I was required to score better each time I took the examination, so that, in a manner of speaking, my best self would be chosen in the end.”
“That must have been very difficult.”
“Well, not really, O highly respected old fellow. You see, my father was careful to explain his plan to me thoroughly, so you may be sure that I botched the first few tests royally, so to speak. Since the test was substantially the same each time I was examined, I was able to show continuous improvement. I do believe my father, may tranquility be upon his bleached bones, designed the whole enterprise to teach me the value of thinking in the long term.”
“Your father the late shah must have been a man of great capacity,” I said. “But, if I may be so bold as to inquire, what sorts of questions did he put on your examination?”
“Oh, it was not an examination of questions, most rightfully esteemed old top. It was what you might describe as a practical exercise.”
“Some sort of martial endeavor, then?”
“In a manner of speaking, since it is what makes up the chief employment of our army. I was tested on my proficiency in weaving.”
“In weaving? Oh, I see.”
“Yes, the requirement was very simple: I was required to weave a flying carpet.”
“Flying carpet? But I thought flying carpets were mere myths—a fantasy from the Arabian Nights.”
“Quite the contrary. In such a mountainous country as ours, flying carpets are an essential part of the machinery of good government. When the monarch must respond to an emergency in a distant province, such as a cracked sidewalk or a temporary shortage of estimated-tax withholding forms, a flying carpet is a positive necessity. To weave a carpet that will respond with proper sensitivity to its operator’s commands requires dexterity and patience, and is therefore the very best indicator of a weaver’s skill. My early efforts, if, O most correctly well-regarded old stick, you will pardon a craftsman’s pride, were bad. I made quite sure of that. In every aesthetic sense, of course, they were entirely irreproachable, for I cannot abide ugliness. But as transportation they were unfit for purpose. It is not too much to say that they were just awful. They were fit for nothing more than covering floors, and to such uses they have been put.”
“But I say!” I said. “If this is so, then the money we spend on horsecars and railways and things of that nature is simply wasted! If skilled weavers can make carpets that fly, then of what use is laying miles of track when I can simply say, ‘Rug, take me home!’ ”
Suddenly I felt a sharp jolt in my abdominal region, as if my stomach had dropped several feet.
“Oh dear!” I heard the Shah’s voice saying from somewhere below me. I realized that the ceiling was considerably closer, and the floor was a good bit farther away than it ought to be.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I’m afraid you’ve set it off,” the Shah called up to me. “You were standing on my third attempt, you see. An improvement over the first two, but it only does one thing, and nothing will make it do anything else.”
“What shall I do?”
“If I were to presume to give advice, most thoroughly exalted old thing, I should probably say ‘Hang on.’ ”
No sooner had he spoken than the rug lurched backward and shot like an arrow through the high corridors of the palace, past sleeping guards, and out the front gate. Once in the open air, it rose with incredible velocity. I could see the city of Notsobad receding over the horizon; and soon the mountains below me gave way to the vast plains of Tartary, and then the more familiar lands and seas closer to home, until I found myself descending precipitously and at last entering my own parlor by way of my own front hall.
Since then the rug has had an honored place on my parlor floor. It goes without saying that it is beautifully made; but as a means of transportation it is limited by the fact that it can transport me in only one direction, and I must roll it up and carry it with me if I intend to have it fly me home. I have recommended to Her Majesty that we should mount another expedition to Istanistan and perhaps institute a profitable trade in more versatile flying carpets; but the railway interests are against it, and I believe Her Majesty was not altogether pleased with the notion of being subjected to a competitive examination. Nothing has been done to push the matter forward, therefore, and I do not believe I shall be making another trip to Notsobad in the near future.