Laughter could be heard above, and then silence. The walls of the cistern were still sticky with the honey that Hasib had helped to empty from it, filling jars and passing them to his fellow woodsmen above. They had lowered him down to get the last drops, and now had left him for dead.

It was dark in that place as Hasib sat down to contemplate his fate, and wept at his misfortune.

“There is no justice save that which comes through Allah.â€? he cried. The cold stone of the empty cistern held no comfort for him.

After some hours of crying out for help and giving in to despair, Hasib was surprised to hear the clattering noise from behind him. He turned and saw a scorpion that had fallen from somewhere above him. Quickly crushing the creature with his boot lest he be poisoned, Hasib wondered at where it could have come from in that place. Looking around he found a small crack in the cistern wall, the light of day shining through it.

His heart swelled with hope as he chipped at the stone wall with his knife.