The Days of Mohammed Part 13

"Ah, you are a true Bedouin, and ashamed of your mother!" returned Lois, with a sigh. "Truly, a Jewess has no place among the tribes of the wilderness."

The youth's face softened. "I am not ashamed of my mother!" he said, quickly. "But my blood leaps for the glory of battle, for the clash of cymbals, the speed of the charge, the tumult, and the victory!"

"But a hollow glory you will find it," she said scornfully. "Murder and pillage,--and all sanctioned in the name of religion!"

"Even so, is not the name of harami (brigand) accounted honorable among the desert tribes?" asked the youth, quickly.

"Alas, yes. Ye reck not that it has been said, 'Thou shalt not steal.'

But you, Kedar, care not for the Jewish Scripture. Why need I quote it to you."

"Arabian religion, Arabian honor, for the Arab, say I!" returned the youth haughtily. "Let me roam over the wild on my steed, racing with the breeze, lance in hand, bound for the hunt or fray; let me swoop upon the cowardly caravans whose hundreds shriek and scream and fall back before a handful of Bedouin lads, if I will. More honorable it is to me than to plod along in a shugduf on a long-legged camel with a bag of corn or a trifle of cloth to look after. Be the Jew if you will, but give me the leaping blood, the soaring spirit of the Bedouin!"

The woman sighed again. "You will be killed, Kedar," she said. "Then what will all this profit you?"

"To die on the field is more glorious than to breathe one's life out tamely in bed," replied the other.

There was no use of reasoning with this rash youth.

"And think you this Mohammed is worthy of your sacrifice?" she asked.

"If he be really inspired, as hundreds now believe, is he not worthy of every sacrifice? Does he not promise his followers an eternal felicity?"

"A vile impostor!" exclaimed the woman harshly. "Yet you will not believe what I say, until your own eyes see and your own ears hear! Go!

Go! I shall talk no more to you! If you fall it shall be no fault of Lois'!"

She arose and waved him off with an impatient gesture. Yet he lingered.

"You will forgive me, mother?" he asked, gently.

The woman's mother-heart welled to the brim. She answered brokenly:

"My son, my son! Could I do aught else? Take my blessing with you! And now, here comes your father."

Musa was feebler than upon that first night when he met Yusuf in his tent, and his hair had become almost white, yet there was the same dignity in his appearance.

"Go, Kedar," he said, "and prove that you are indeed the son of Musa.

Go, and see that you bring back good news of battle!"

Kedar bent his head in token of a.s.sent.

Before an hour had pa.s.sed he was mounted on the swiftest of his father's horses--a short, fleshless animal, with legs thin and of steel-like muscle. But its slender neck, its small, snake-like head, its dilating nostrils, through which the light shone crimson, and its fiery, intelligent eye, showed its blood as it pawed the ground and neighed impatiently. A n.o.ble animal and a n.o.ble rider they looked as they were off like an arrow, Kedar's fine figure swaying with the movement of the steed as though rider and horse were one.

All alone went the youth across hill and valley, over rock and torrent, fearless and swift as an eagle; for Kedar scorned to seek the protection of numbers, although quite aware of the fact that a large caravan, under Abu Sofian, was even then on its way from Syria to Mecca, and was within three hours' journey from him.

CHAPTER XIII.

ABU SOFIAN'S CARAVAN.

While Kedar was thus speeding towards Medina, the caravan was also proceeding more slowly towards the south. It consisted of thirty hors.e.m.e.n and one thousand camels richly laden with grain, with spices, with purple of Syria, richest cloths of Damascus, and choicest perfumes of the northern regions.

It was the month Ramadhan, and the peaceful traders went confidently and securely on their way, well pleased with the success of their journey and hopeful in antic.i.p.ation of the large gain they were to make during the great bazar of the pilgrimage.

While thus proceeding leisurely on, the leaders were somewhat surprised to see a solitary rider coming towards them in the greatest haste. He was mounted on a swift dromedary, and with head bent down so that his turban concealed his face, he kept striking the animal with his short camel-stick and urging it on with his shrill "Yakh! Yakh!"

All breathless he at last reached the caravan. "Is Abu Sofian here?" he cried.

"I am Abu Sofian," said the st.u.r.dy old chief. "What do you desire of me?"

"I have been sent by Amzi the benevolent," returned the other. "He bids me say to Abu Sofian that it will be well for the caravan to advance with the greatest caution, as Mohammed and his forces are in ambush on the way."

"What guarantee have I," said Abu Sofian, "that you are truly from Amzi the Meccan, and not an emissary of Mohammed sent to entrap us into some narrow glen?"

"Here is your guarantee," replied the stranger, stretching forth his hand. "Recognize you not this ring?"

"It is well," answered Abu Sofian, satisfied. "We are much beholden to you and to our friend Amzi, who we had feared was but too good a friend to this same Mohammed."

"Can you trust Amzi?" asked one near, anxiously.

"As my own soul," returned the leader. "Amzi's heart is gold; Amzi's words are jewels of purest l.u.s.ter. He speaks truth." Then to the messenger, "Know you what route Mohammed will take?"

"I know not. He has, doubtless, spies, who will inform him of your movements, and thus enable him to act accordingly."

"Then it remains for us to meet him by his own tactics," said Abu Sofian, "and no time is to be lost. You, Omair my faithful, speed to Mecca with what dispatch you may. Go by the by-paths which you know so well. Tell Abu Jahl, whom I have left in charge, to send us help quickly."

Omair made obeisance and left at once.

"You, Akab and Zimmah," continued the leader, "go by the hills ahead and find out what you can. As for us, we will keep our lips closed and our eyes and ears open. Abu Sofian is not yet so old that he has forgotten the signs of the wilderness."

The vast procession moved on again slowly and in a dead silence, broken only by the trampling of the beasts and the moans of the camels.

Presently, on coming near a spot which might be deemed hazardous ground, Abu Sofian ordered a halt and went forward himself, alone and on foot.

With eye on the alert, ear on a tension to catch the slightest sound, and body bent downward to facilitate the closest scrutiny of the ground, the keen old man proceeded slowly, stepping with cat-like precision and quietness.

Suddenly he uttered an exclamation. A small object lay dark on the yellow sand. He picked it up. It was a date-stone. He examined it closely. It was slightly smaller than the stones of the ordinary fruit.

"A Medina date!" he exclaimed; "whoever has thrown it there!"

Going a few paces further, he found several similar ones thrown by the wayside. The trampling of the sand, too, showed that a considerable force had been on the road at no distant time.

He bent down again and directed his keen scrutiny on the road, then retraced his steps for a short distance. There were tracks pointing in both directions, but at one point the company seemed to have turned.

It was clear, then, that for some reason the force had been ordered to turn and go back for a distance, probably to await the caravan in some ravine, and that they were now not very far away. It was necessary, then, to be as expeditious as possible.

He hastily returned and gave the order that the route of the caravan be changed, and that the party should cross over the hills and proceed by a route close to the Red Sea until the place of danger was left behind.