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The Women of the Arabs Part 23

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If I save you by my might, Will you stand still while I bite?

The lying a.s.s lay still, And answered, "Yes, I will."

The Bear then gave a fearful roar, And dragged the Donkey to the sh.o.r.e, And said, I saved you from your plight, Now stand still, Donkey, while I bite!

He said: Wait Bruin till I rest, And "smell the air" from East to West, And then I'll run with all my might, And turn my tail for you to bite!

Then Bruin took him at his word Away he went swift as a bird, And called out, now Bruin, I will rest, I'll smell the air from East to West, I'm running now with all my might, I've "turned my tail" for you to bite!



The Bear resolved in grief and pain, He'd never help an a.s.s again.

Abu Habeeb, who is just about to enter the college, has a story which all the Arabs know, and love to hear. It is called:

The Lion and Ibn Adam, that is, the Lion and Man, the son of Adam.

Once there was a Lion who had a son, and he always charged him, saying, my son, beware of Ibn Adam. But at length the old Lion died, and the young lion resolved that he would search through the world and see that wonderful animal called Ibn Adam, of whom his father had so often warned him. So out he went from his cave, and walked to and fro in the wilderness. At length he saw a huge animal coming towards him, with long crooked legs and neck, and running at the top of his speed. It was a Camel. But when the Lion saw his enormous size and rapid pace, he said, surely, this must be Ibn Adam himself. So he ran towards him and roared a fearful roar. Stop where you are! The Camel stopped, trembling with fear of the Lion. Said the Lion, are you Ibn Adam? No, said the Camel, I am a Camel fleeing from Ibn Adam. Said the Lion, and what did Ibn Adam do to you that you should flee from him? The Camel said, he loaded me with heavy burdens, and beat me cruelly, and when I found a fit chance, I fled from him to this wilderness. Said the Lion, is Ibn Adam stronger than you are? Yes indeed, many times stronger. Then the Lion was filled with terror, lest he too should fall into the hands of Ibn Adam, and he left the Camel to go his way in peace. After a little while, an Ox pa.s.sed by, and the Lion said, _this_ must be Ibn Adam. But he found that he too was fleeing from the yoke and the goad of Ibn Adam. Then he met a Horse running fleet as the wind, and he said, this swift animal must be the famous Ibn Adam, but the Horse too was running away from the halter, the bridle the spur or the harness of the terrible Ibn Adam. Then he met a mule, a donkey, a buffalo and an elephant, and all were running in terror of Ibn Adam. The Lion thought what terrible monster must he be to have struck terror into all these monstrous animals! And on he went trembling, until hunger drove him to a forest to seek for prey to eat.

While he was searching through the forest, lo and behold, a Carpenter was at work cutting wood. The Lion wondered at his curious form, and said, who knows but this may be Ibn Adam? So he came near and asked him saying, Are you Ibn Adam? He replied, I am. Then the Lion roared a fearful roar, and said, prepare for battle with the Lion, the king of beasts! Then Ibn Adam said: What do you want of me? Said the Lion, I want to devour you. Very well, said the Carpenter, wait until I can get my claws ready. I will go and take this wood yonder, and then I will return and fight you. If you kill me, eat me, and if I conquer you I will let you go, for we the sons of Adam do not eat the flesh of wild beasts, nor do we kill them, but we let them go. The Lion was deceived by those artful words, for he had seen the Camel and his companions running away, and he thought within himself, now, if Ibn Adam did really eat the flesh of beasts, he would not have let the Camel and the Horse, the Buffalo and the Mule escape into the desert. So he said to the Carpenter very well, I will wait for you to take the wood, and return with your claws. Not so, said the Carpenter, I am afraid that you will not wait for me. You are a stranger, and I do not trust your word. I fear you will run away before I return. Said the Lion, it is impossible that the Lion should run away from any one. Said the Carpenter, I cannot admit what you say, unless you will grant me one thing. And what is that, said the Lion. The Carpenter said, I have here a little rope. Come let me tie you to this tree until I return, and then I shall know where to find you. The Lion agreed to this plan, and the Carpenter bound him with ropes to the tree until he and the tree were one compact bundle.

Then the Carpenter went away to his shop, and brought his glue pot, and filling it with glue and pitch boiled it over the fire. Then he returned and besmeared the Lion with the boiling mixture from his head to the end of his tail, and applied a torch until he was all in a flame from head to tail, and in this plight the Carpenter left him. Then the Lion roared in agony until the whole forest echoed the savage roar, and all the animals and wild beasts came running together to see what had happened.

And when they saw him in this sad plight, they rushed to him and loosed his bonds, and he sprang to the river and extinguished the flames, but came out singed and scarred, with neither hair nor mane. Now when all the beasts saw this pitiable sight, they made a covenant together to kill Ibn Adam. So they watched and waited day and night, until at length they found him in the forest. As soon as he saw them, he ran to a lofty tree, and climbed to its very top, taking only his adze with him, and there awaited his fate. The whole company of beasts now gathered around the foot of the tree, and tried in vain to climb it, and after they walked around and around, at length they agreed that one should stand at the foot of the tree, and another on his back, and so on, until the upper one should reach Ibn Adam, and throw him down to the ground. Now the Lion whose back was burned and blistered, from his great fear of man demanded that he should stand at the bottom of the tree. To this all agreed. Then the Camel mounted upon the Lion's back, the Horse upon the Camel, the Buffalo upon the Horse, the Bear upon the Buffalo, the Wolf upon the bear, and the Donkey upon the Wolf, and so on in order, until the topmost animal was almost within reach of the Carpenter, Ibn Adam.

Now, when he saw the animals coming nearer and nearer, and almost ready to seize him, he shouted at the top of his voice. Bring the glue pot of boiling pitch to the Lion! Hasten! Hasten! Now when the Lion heard of the boiling pitch, he was terrified beyond measure and leaped one side with all his might and fled. Down came the pile of beasts, tumbling in confusion, the one upon the other, and all lay groaning bruised and bleeding, some with broken legs, some with broken ribs, and some with broken heads. But as soon as the clamor of their first agony was over, they all called out to the Lion, why did you leap out and bring all this misery upon us! The Lion replied:

The story's point he never knew, Who never felt the burning glue!

Monsoor, who has just been to Damascus, says that if he can have another pipe, and a cup of Arab coffee, he will tell the story of the famous Jew Rufaiel of Damascus. So he begins:

The story of Rufaiel, the rich Jew of Damascus, and the Moslem Dervish.

Once there lived in Damascus a rich Jew named Rufaiel. He had great wealth in marble palaces and rich silk robes, and well stored bazaars, and his wife and daughters were clad in velvets and satins, in gold and precious stones. He had also great wit and cunning, and often helped his fellow Jews out of their troubles. Now the Pasha of Damascus was a Mohammedan, who had a superst.i.tious fear of the holy Moslem Dervishes, and they could persuade him to tax and oppress the Jews in the most cruel manner. In those days there came to Damascus a holy Dervish who had long, uncombed black hair, and although he was a vile and wicked man, he made the people believe that he was a holy saint, and could perform wonderful miracles. The Pasha held him in great reverence, and invited him often to dinner, and when he came in, he would stoop and kiss the Dervish's feet! And what was most wonderful of all, the Dervish left Damascus every Thursday night after bidding the Pasha farewell, and journeyed to Mecca and returned in the morning and told the Pasha all the Mecca news and what he had seen and heard. This he did every week, though all wise men laughed at him, and said he only went out of the City Gate and slept in the gardens of Damascus!

Now the Dervish was a great enemy of the Jews. He hated them, cursed them, spat upon them, and called them infidel dogs, and he persuaded the Pasha to increase their taxes fourfold. Their sufferings now became very great. They had to sell their houses and furniture to pay the heavy taxes, and many were beaten and thrust into prison. So the leading Jews in their distress came to Rufaiel, and begged him to go to the Pasha and obtain relief for them and their families. He said he would think about the matter. So after they had gone, he called the chief jeweller and pipe maker of the city, and ordered them to make a long pipe of exquisite workmans.h.i.+p, with a stem of rosewood carved and inlaid with pearls, a bowl of pure gold set with diamonds, and a mouth-piece of gold and amber. Then he went one day to call on the Pasha, and made him a present of this elegant pipe, the like of which had never been seen in Damascus. The Pasha was greatly pleased and ordered all in his presence to retire that he might enjoy the society of Rufaiel, the munificent Jew. Then Rufaiel turned to the Pasha and said, "may your Excellency live forever! I have brought you this pipe as a faint token of my high esteem and affection, but I am filled with deepest sorrow that it is not perfect." "Not perfect?" said the Pasha. "In what respect could it be more perfect than what it is?" Said Rufaiel, "you will notice that between the amber and the gold of the mouth-piece a little ring is wanting. This ring was the very gem and excellence of the pipe. It was cut from the Black Stone of the Kaaba in Mecca, and has miraculous properties. But when the pipe was brought from Mecca, the ring was left with Mustafa, the jeweller, who is ready to send it by the first fit opportunity." "Alas," said the Pasha, "but how can we send for it now?

The Pilgrim caravan has gone, and there will be none again for a year."

"Oh," said Rufaiel, "this is easily arranged. To-day is Thursday, and to-night the holy Dervish will go to Mecca and return to-morrow morning.

Your Excellency need only command him to bring the black ring, and before this time to-morrow the pipe will be complete in its beauty and excellency." "El Hamdu Lillah! Praise to Allah! It shall be done!" So when Rufaiel had gone, the Pasha summoned the Dervish, and told him of this wonderful pipe which had come to him from Mecca, and that it only needed the black ring to make it absolutely perfect, and that he was hereby commanded on pain of death to bring the ring from Mecca before Friday at the hour of noon prayer. The Dervish bowed most obeisantly and retired black in the face with rage and despair. But it occurred to him at once that none in Damascus but Rufaiel could have purchased such a pipe. So he left the City Gate, called the Bab Allah, or Gate of G.o.d, at sunset, bidding his friends farewell, and walked away in the gardens until night came on. Then, at the sixth hour of the night he returned by another gate, and crept along to the door of the mansion of Rufaiel.

The door was opened, and Rufaiel received him with great politeness. The Dervish fell on the floor and kissed his feet and begged for his life.

Said he, "give me that black ring which belongs to the Pasha's pipe, and we will be friends forever! Ask what you will and it shall be done to you. Only give me this ring." Said Rufaiel, "you have ruined my people with oppression, and now do you ask a favor?" "Yes," said the Dervish, "and you shall have any favor you ask." So Rufaiel thought to himself a moment, and then said, "I ask one thing. Do you obtain from the Pasha an order on all the tax collectors of Damascus, that when any Jew shall say, _I am one of the Seventy_, the collector shall pa.s.s him by, and no tax ever be demanded of him." "Done," said the Dervish, and embracing Rufaiel, he bade him good-night. Then in the morning he hastened in at Bab Allah, and presented the ring to the Pasha, who was so delighted that he granted his request, and orders were given that no tax should ever be collected from any Jew who should say "I am one of the Seventy."

Then Rufaiel a.s.sembled all the Jews of Damascus, and bade them say to the tax-gatherers whenever they came, "_I am one of the Seventy_." So the Jews had rest from taxation, all the days of Rufaiel.

Saleh Bu Nusr, one of the best men in Mount Lebanon, and the father of Khalil, who brought us the list of Arab boys' games, has already told us the story of the Goats and the Ghoul, and he says that the savory odor of the egg plant being cooked for the wedding guests, reminds him of the story of the Badinjan or Egg Plant.

Once there was a great Emir or Prince who had a very abject and obsequious servant named Deeb (Wolf). One day Deeb brought to the Emir for his dinner a dish of stewed badinjan, which pleased the Emir so much that he complimented Deeb, and told him that it was the best dinner he had eaten for months. Deeb bowed to the earth and kissed the feet of the Emir, and said, "may G.o.d prolong the life of your excellency! Your excellency knows what is good. There is nothing like the badinjan. It is the best of vegetables. Its fruit is good, its leaf is good, its stalk is good, and its root is good. It is good roasted, stewed, boiled, fried, and even raw. It is good for old and young. Your excellency, there is nothing like the badinjan." Now the Emir was unusually hungry, and ate so bountifully of the badinjan that he was made very ill. So he sent for Deeb, and rebuked him sharply, saying, "you rascal, you Deeb, your name is Wolf, and you are rightly named. This badinjan which you praised so highly has almost killed me." "Exactly so," said Deeb, "may your excellency live forever! The badinjan is the vilest of plants. It is never eaten without injury. Its fruit is injurious, its leaf is injurious, its stalk is noxious, and its root is the vilest of all. It is not fit 'ajell shanak Allah,' for the pigs to eat, whether raw, roasted, stewed, boiled or fried. It is injurious to the young and dangerous to the old. Your excellency, there is nothing so bad as the badinjan! Never touch the badinjan!"--"Out with you, you worthless fellow, you Deeb! What do you mean by praising the badinjan when I praise it, and abusing it when it injures me?" "Ah, your excellency,"

said Deeb, "am I the servant of the badinjan, or the servant of your excellency? I must say what pleases you, but it makes no difference whether I please the badinjan or not."

The wedding party is now over, and the guests are departing. Each one on leaving says, "by your pleasure, good evening!" The host answers, "go in peace, you have honored us." The guests reply, "we have been honored, Allah give the newly married ones an arees," (a bridegroom). They would not dare wish that Shaheen and Handumeh might some day have a little baby _girl_. That would be thought an insult.

We will walk up the hill to our mountain home, pa.s.sing the fountain and the great walnut trees. Here comes a horseman. It is Ali, who has been spending a month among the Bedawin Arabs. He will come up and stay with us, and tell us of his adventures. He says that the Sit Harba, the wife of the great Arab Sheikh ed Dukhy, taught him a number of the Bedawin Nursery Songs, and although he is weary with his journey, he will repeat some of them in Arabic.

They are all about camels and spears and fighting and similar subjects, and no wonder, as they see nothing else, and think of nothing else.

To-morrow is the feast day, We've no "henna" on our hands; Our camels went to bring it, From far off distant lands; We'll rise by night and listen, The camel bells will ring; And say a thousand welcomes To those who "henna" bring.

And here is a song which shows that the Bedawin have the same habit of cursing their enemies, which we noticed in the Druze lullabys:

On the rose and sweetest myrtle, May you sleep, my eyes, my boy; But may sharpest thorns and briars, All your enemies destroy!

Ali says that one of the most mournful songs he heard in the desert was the following:

I am like a wounded camel, I grind my teeth in pain; My load is great and heavy, I am tottering again.

My back is torn and bleeding, My wound is past relief, And what is harder still to bear, None other knows my grief!

The next is a song which the people sung in the villages on the borders of the desert. By "the sea" they mean the Sea of Galilee:

My companions three, Were fis.h.i.+ng by the sea; The Arabs captured one, The Koords took his brother, In one land was I, My friends were in another.

I was left to moan, In sorrow deep and sad, Like a camel all alone, Departing to Baghdad; My soul I beg you tell me whether, Once parted friends e'er met together?

The Bedawin have as low an idea of girls as the Bedawin in the cities, and are very glad when a boy is born. Sometimes when the Abeih girls are playing together, you will hear a little girl call out, "it is very small indeed. Why it is a little wee thing, as small as was the rejoicing the day I was born!" But hear what the Bedawin women sing when a boy is born:

Mashallah, a boy, a _boy_!

May Allah's eye defend him!

May she who sees and says not _the Name_, Be smitten with blindness and die in shame!

How would you like to live among the Bedawin, and have a dusky Arab woman, clad in coa.r.s.e garments, covered with vermin and odorous of garlic and oil, to sing you to sleep on a mat on the ground?

Hasten my cameleer, where are you going?

It is eventide, and the camels are lowing: My house in a bundle I bear on my back, Whenever night comes, I my bundle unpack.

The next is a song of the pastoral Arabs:

Hasten my guide and lead us away, For we have fought and lost the day; To the well we went all thirsty and worn, The well was dry! and we slept forlorn.

The Bedawin came in battle array, Attacked us all famished at break of day And took all our camels and tents away!

Death enters the Bedawin tents as well as the palaces of kings and the comfortable homes of the people in Christian lands. But what desolation it leaves behind in those dark sorrowing hearts, who know nothing of the love of Jesus and the consolations of the gospel. This is a funeral song the poor Bedawin women sing over the death of a child:

Oh hasten my camel, begone, begone, Oh haste where your loved ones stay: There weep and lament. There my "spirit" is gone, Is gone to a night without day: Oh Star of the Morning, thou Star of the day, And Star of the Evening, both hasten away, And bring me a balm for my wounded heart, For I from my child, my "spirit" must part.

Soon may the "day dawn, and the day star arise" in their dark hearts, and Jesus the "Bright and Morning Star" be their portion forever!

The next song is about the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Thousands of Greeks, Armenians and Catholics go to Jerusalem every year to visit the "Holy Places," and get a certificate of the pardon of all their sins. The Greek Patriarch performs a lying imposture called the Holy Fire every year at Greek Easter, by lighting a candle with a match inside a dark room, and declaring that it is miraculously lighted by fire which comes forth from the tomb of Christ! So the poor Greek woman sings to her child:

Oh take me on a pilgrimage, Jerusalem to see: The Tomb of Christ and Holy fire, And Hill of Calvary: And then I'll to the Convent go, Ask pardon for my sin: And say, my Lady, now forgive, And comfort me again.

The next is really beautiful, and is good enough for any mother to sing to her child. It is a morning song:

Praise to Him who brings the light, And keeps the birds in darkest night.

G.o.d is merciful to all, Rise ye men and on Him call!

Allah praise in every lot, He keeps you and you know it not.

And this one too, about the little worms, is curious enough:

Praise to Him who feeds the worms, In the silent vale!

Provides their portion every day, Protects them in the dangerous way.

No doubt they praise Him too, and pray, In the silent vale!

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The Women of the Arabs Part 23 summary

You're reading The Women of the Arabs. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Henry Harris Jessup. Already has 767 views.

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