He was proud of his title of "Epet," which means servant, and more than usually obliging.

I at once took advantage of his complaisance, and requested him to show me the athalebs.

Upon this he led the way farther on, where I could see through the gloom the shadowy outlines of four monsters, all of which were resting in an upright posture against the wall, with their claws fixed on a shelf of rock.

They looked more than ever like dragons, or rather like enormous bats, for their wings were disclosed hanging in loose leathern folds.
"Can they be roused," I asked, "and made to move ?" "Oh yes," said the Epet, and without waiting for any further request he proceeded to pull at the loose fan-like wing of the nearest one.
The monster drew himself together, gave a flutter with his wings, and then moved back from the wall.
"Make him walk," said I, eagerly.
The Epet at this pulled upon his wing once more, and the athaleb moved forward.
"Bring him to the portal, so that I may see him," said I.
The Epet, still holding the athaleb's wing, pulled at him, and thus guided him toward the portal.

I was amazed at the docility of this terrific monster; yet, after all, I thought that it was no more astonishing than the docility of the elephant, which in like manner allows itself to be guided by the slightest pressure.