The Days of Mohammed Part 23

The old man turned to the Scriptures and read the story of Jesus and the woman of Samaria, raising his voice in triumphant fervor as he reached the words: "Whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."

Then he turned to the words spoken by Jesus to his disciples just before his betrayal, and read: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give unto you. Let not your heart be troubled," and, "Abide in me, and I in you.

As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself except it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches; he that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit; for without me ye can do nothing."

The woman listened. With the quick appreciation of the Arab for metaphor and simile, she grasped the meaning of the words, and a new, wonderful train of thought came into her mind as she sat with bowed head while simple, pleading, heart-offered prayer was sent up to the Throne of Grace, and the parting hymn was sung.

Then the little band gathered around her, speaking words of cheer, and the aged leader dismissed her with a gentle, "Come again, daughter."

As Sherah and her mother walked home, the last remnant of the fearful storm that had visited Medina pa.s.sed over Mecca. They saw the ragged clouds borne wildly over the northern hills; they saw the stunted aloes bending low beneath the sweep of the wind. Yet to them there was a grandeur in it, for there was still upon them the influence of the Divine presence, and they thought of Him who "walketh upon the wings of the wind."

And as they went on, bowing their heads before its spent fury, Asru, Amzi, and Yusuf, far to the northward, struggled on with the fugitive army, wondering at the continued triumph of the false prophet, yet serene in the confidence that in the Divine Hands all was well, and that in the far-distant end, however blurred to human vision, all must work for good to those who love G.o.d, even though the reason of his working, the seeming mystery of the fortunes of the great conflict, might not be unravelled until in the bright hereafter, when all things will at last be made plain.

CHAPTER XXII.

MANa.s.sEH AND ASRU AT KHAIBAR.

"Spirit of purity and grace, Our weakness, pitying, see!

O make our hearts thy dwelling-place, And worthier Thee."

The Koreish, after their disastrous defeat at the Battle of the Ditch, returned in bitter disappointment to Mecca. Many even of the bravest of the tribe felt that it was hopeless to strive against the prophet, whose phenomenal success seemed to render his troops invincible. Many, too, with the superst.i.tion at all times common to the Arabs, were in deadly dread of his "enchantments," and were only too ready to listen to his bold a.s.sertions that the momentous storm at the siege of Medina had been caused in his favor by heavenly agency; that a great host of angels had been in invisible co-operation with the Moslems and had drawn their legions about the ill-fated company, crying, "G.o.d is great!" and striking panic to the hearts of the besiegers.

Because of these superst.i.tions the hearts of the Arabs failed them, and they day after day lessened in their hostility, and increased in their spirit of submission to the now famous prophet of El Islam.

The Jews, however, held out to the last, and against them the reeking blades of Mohammed's army were turned. The Jewish tribes of the Koraidha, Kainoka, and the Nadhirites, in the vicinity of Medina, were speedily overthrown, and their goods taken possession of by the Moslems.

Then, before the blood cooled on the scimitars, these conquests were followed by the dastardly a.s.sa.s.sination of the few Jews who were still in Medina, and, being possessed of considerable property, were a tempting bait to the avaricious prophet, who now, making religion a cloak to cover his greed and ambition, went to the wildest excesses in attaining his objects.

Many of the Jews, escaping dearly with their lives, fled to the city of Khabar, five days' journey to the northeast of Medina, a city inhabited by Jews, who, living in the midst of a luxuriant farming district, had grown rich in the peaceful arts of agriculture and commerce. Others hastened thither in the hope that Khabar might become the nucleus of a successful resistance of Mohammed's power in the near future; and among the latter cla.s.s was Mana.s.seh.

Late one afternoon he arrived in the rich pasture-lands surrounding the city. The air of peace and prosperity, the lowing of herds and bleating of sheep, delighted him; and, though weary from his journey, it was with a light heart that he urged his flagging horse between the long groves of palm-trees until the city came in sight.

His martial spirit glowed as he noted the heavy out-works, and the strength of the citadel Al Kamus, which, built on a high rock, and towering ragged and black against the orange sky of the setting sun, seemed to the young soldier almost impregnable.

He was welcomed at the gates as another recruit to the gathering forces, and, on his request, was at once directed to the house of the chief, Kenana Ibn al Rabi, a man reputed to be exceedingly wealthy. Here he was courteously received by Kenana and his wife Safiya; and, in a long conference, he informed the chief of the numbers and zeal of Mohammed's army, urging upon him the immediate strengthening of the city, as it was highly probable that the prophet would not long desist from making an attempt upon a tid-bit so tempting as that which Khabar presented.

That evening an informal council of war was held in the court-yard of the chief's house. Al Hareth, a brother of Asru, a man who, although an Arab, had been appointed to high office, and had proved himself one of the most distinguished commanders of the Jewish colony, was present; and, among others, Asru himself entered.

"Asru!" exclaimed Mana.s.seh, delightedly, hurrying him aside to an arbor, "you here! I thought I had become separated from you all in that ill-fated storm. Where are Amzi and Yusuf, know you?"

"Gone to Mecca with Abu Sofian's remnant of an army--as miserable and hang-head lot of fugitives as ever disgraced field!" said Asru contemptuously. "By my faith, it shamed me to see our brave friends in their company, even for the journey!"

"Why did they go to Mecca?"

"Because they were firmly convinced that Mecca will be the next point of attack," said Asru, "but methinks they shall find themselves mistaken.

Mohammed will keep Mecca as a sort of sacred spot, dedicated to his wors.h.i.+p--and the wors.h.i.+p of Allah!" with infinite scorn. "But Khabar is a pomegranate of the highest branches, too mellow, too luscious, too tempting, to elude his grasp. Yes, Mana.s.seh, Khabar will be his next point of attack. However, I am truly glad that Yusuf and Amzi have gone home. The Jews and Christians in Mecca will be safe enough for some time to come, and our friends are getting too old to endure much fatigue of battle."

"Aye, Asru, you and I are better fitted to face the brunt of the charge and the weariness of the march. The work of Yusuf and Amzi should be milder, though not less glorious, than ours."

"You say well," returned the other, with kindling eye. "Asru, for one, can never forget what they have done for him."

"Asru, are all the stories of the wickedness of your past life--your cruelty, your treachery, your blasphemy--true?"

"Mana.s.seh, let my past life go into the tomb of oblivion if you will.

'Tis a sorry page for Asru to look upon. The cruelty, the blasphemy,--aye, boy, I was full of it; but treacherous, never! Whatever Asru was, and no devil was blacker than he in many ways, he was never guilty of perfidy, except you call the trying to free Amzi and poor Dumah perfidy."

"I am glad," returned Mana.s.seh, quietly; "yet it would not matter now, since our Asru is a changed man."

Asru looked at the youth earnestly. "Mana.s.seh," he said, "does the old nature never come back upon you? Or have you never known what it was to feel wrong impulses?"

"Wrong impulses!" exclaimed the other. "Yes, Asru, many and many a time.

Yet, when one does not even look at the evil, but keeps his face turned steadfastly towards the right, the old self seems to lose its hold. In drawing near to G.o.d we draw away from evil."

"Your words, I know, are true," returned the other; "yet the keeping from doing wrong seems to me the hardest thing in living a Christian life."

"But, Asru," said Mana.s.seh, "perhaps you are not loving enough. The more you love Jesus, and the more you feel him in your life, the easier it will be to turn from temptation--to hate the thing that inspires it. If you really love him you simply cannot do what will pain him."

"But the temptation to act hastily, to speak unkindly, comes upon me so often, Mana.s.seh, that I grow discouraged."

"The only safety is in always looking Above for help. Believe me, Asru, I speak from experience. Temptation in itself is not sin; the yielding to it is. Little by little the temptations bother us less, and we grow in grace. You know this is expected of us. Paul speaks of 'perfecting holiness in the fear of the Lord.' He says, too, 'The weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty through G.o.d to the pulling down of strongholds.' He said, also, to the Philippians, 'It is G.o.d that worketh in you, both to will and to do of his good pleasure,' and the Lord himself has said, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.' So, Asru, my friend, the whole secret is in accepting that gift, in knowing him, and in keeping the soul in a constant state of openness for the working of the Holy Spirit--a 'pray-without-ceasing' att.i.tude in which one's whole life is resolved into the prayer: 'Thy will, not mine, be done.'"

Asru regarded Mana.s.seh curiously.

"How is it, young as you are," he said, "that these things are so plain to you?"

"Ah, you forget," said Mana.s.seh, "what a blessed home training I have had, and that from my childhood I have had Yusuf for my counsellor. For these Christian friends of my childhood, I never cease to be thankful."

Asru turned his face away. "And I, too, have children, Mana.s.seh," he said in a low voice, "children who, with their mother, are little better than idolaters, and I have never told them differently."

"But you will teach them?" returned Mana.s.seh.

"Ah, yes, if G.o.d spares me through this perilous time I shall teach them."

"Have you heard or seen aught of Kedar, lately?" asked Mana.s.seh, abruptly.

"In the Battle of the Ditch I saw him for a moment, charging furiously against one of Abu Sofian's divisions. He was in advance of the rest, riding with his head bent in the teeth of the tempest. On a knoll above me, I saw him for a moment, between me and the sky, his hair and long sash streaming in the wind; then the rain came, and I saw him no more.

Aye, but he is a brave lad!"

"Poor cousin!" said Mana.s.seh. "It is misplaced bravery. Would he were one of us!"

"He is not a Christian; and, unless he were so, a spirit like his would scorn to be one of such a craven, contention-torn mob as that which Abu Sofian brought to the field. Strange, is it not, that the little band of Christians find themselves allied to a set of idolaters, against one who would cast idols down?"

"Aye, but Mohammed would trample Christians and idolaters alike. Think you that defeat was owing wholly to cowardice of the soldiers?"

"Not so much, perhaps, as to bad generals.h.i.+p of the leader," returned Asru. "Nevertheless the superst.i.tion of the heathen Arabs, and their fear when the cry of Mohammed's enchantment was raised, made a craven of every one of them. Mana.s.seh, had we had ten thousand Christian Jews, there might have been a different story."

"We are nearly all Jews, here," said Mana.s.seh, proudly. "Have you happy forebodings for the issue of the next combat?"