Chapter 14

THE BATTLE OF BEDR.

"A Prodigy of Fear, and a portent Of broached mischief to the unborn times."

--_Shakespeare._

The afternoon was intensely warm. Although the heat of the day was past, the houses of Mecca seemed to bake in the sun, the sand burned like a furnace, and a visible, shimmering heat seemed to fill the air. Nevertheless the ceremonies of Tawaf and the ablutions of Zem-Zem went on unceasingly, for it was the month of Ramadhan, and the half-naked pilgrims, with their scanty white garments, shaven heads, and bare feet, kept up the perpetual promenade about the temple, even when so hot as to be ready to drop of exhaustion. The courtyard was crowded with people, the carriers of Zem-Zem water were in constant demand, and, in the cooler recesses of the covered portico around the great yard, a humming trade went on, the venders' cries rising above the prayers of the pilgrims.

Such was the scene upon which Omair suddenly staggered, all breathless, with haggard face, turban awry, and thin wisps of hair streaming in wet hanks over his brow.

"Where is Abu Jahl?" he cried, gasping.

"Why, what is wrong? Tell us!" cried the curious crowd in some consternation. "Where is Abu Sofian? Where is the caravan? Why have you come alone?"

"Send me Abu Jahl!" was his only reply.

The old man happened to be at the Caaba, and came anxiously at the unexpected summons.

"Omair!" he exclaimed. "Allah! What has happened?"

"Send them help!" gasped Omair. "Send them help at once, or not one in our fair caravan may escape! Mohammed is lying in wait for them in the mountain passes."

"May Allah have mercy!" ejaculated the old man; and the crowd about shrieked and groaned.

"Bring me the stair!" called Abu Jahl. "Place it close to the Caaba!"

This done, he ascended to the roof where all might see him. His snowy beard descended to his waist over his flowing garments, and his white locks fell thinly from beneath his kufiyah.

Silence fell upon the assembly below, and from every street men came hurrying in to hear the strange tidings.

"In the name of Allah, hear!" called Abu Jahl in loud tones. "Ye of the tribe of Koreish, hear! Ye who love Abu Sofian, hear! Ye who have friends or goods in the great caravan from Syria, hear! Ye above whom the arch-impostor, Mohammed, aspires, and whom he would fain crush beneath his feet as the vile serpent in the dust, hear! He hath beset our friends in the fastnesses of the mountains. He swoopeth upon them as the eagle upon the defenceless lamb out of the fold! Who, then, among you, will follow Abu Jahl to deliver them?"

An approving murmur rose, long and loud; then a hush fell as the aged man continued, appealing to the courage of his hearers:

"Ye who fear not the foul rebel's sword, ye who would uphold the honor of your wives and little ones, nor send your children out upon the world as the offspring of cowards, beseech your gods for blessing, then mount, and meet me as soon as may be outside the temple gates. In the name of Allah, good-speed!"

A shout of assent arose. The thoroughly excited multitude swayed and surged like the waves of the sea. Hundreds hurried off to do the behest of their leader, and, returning, hastened to perform Tawaf about the Caaba before setting out on their perilous journey.

Yusuf, as a Christian, dared not enter the temple; but he heard the news from without. His heart was moved with compassion for the poor, defenceless traders, caught like mice in a trap, and he decided to fall into the ranks of the rescue party, intending, if his life were spared, to pay a visit to Amzi, at Medina.

While the recruits were gathering, Henda, the wife of Abu Sofian, rushed up, her face wild and haggard with terror, her long black hair streaming on the wind, her eyes flashing with excitement, and her lips drawn back, exposing her yellow, fang-like teeth. A tigress she looked in her fury, and it was with difficulty that Abu Jahl prevented her from going with the expedition, which, in the cooler shades of evening, started off at a rapid pace, leaving her to nurse her vengeance until a later day.

Hurried, yet long and tedious, was the journey, and the anxiety and impatience of the volunteers made it seem almost interminable.

At length news was brought of the safety of the caravan, and of its deviation towards the sea. But the blood of the Meccans was up, and the fiery old leader was determined to punish Mohammed for his misconduct, and thus, perhaps, prevent him from committing similar atrocities in the future. Accordingly he sent part of his troops for protection to the caravan, and commanded the rest, about nine hundred in number, to push on; and among those ordered forward to the field was Yusuf.

Mohammed, with three hundred and thirteen soldiers, mounted chiefly on camels, received word of this advance. His men were lying between Medina and the sea, and, as he thought, directly between the caravan and Abu Jahl's army. He told his men to be of good cheer, as Allah had promised them an easy victory; yet he was careful to omit no human means of securing an advantage. He posted his troops beside the brook Bedr, and had them hastily throw up an entrenchment to cover the flank of his troops. Then, sure of a constant supply of water, and safe from fear of surprise, he awaited the Meccan army.

He himself ascended a little eminence, accompanied only by Abu Beker, and, in a small hut made of branches, he prayed for the assistance of three thousand angels. In his excitement, one of his old paroxysms came on, but this was regarded as auspicious by his men, to whom, superstitious as they were, every occurrence of this kind was an additional presage of victory and an additional spur to bravery in battle.

And now the opposing force appeared, coming down the opposite hill, the men hot, weary, and covered with dust.

After a preliminary skirmish between individual combatants, the battle began,--not a systematic charge in close ranks, not the disciplined attack of trained warriors, but a wild mêlée of camels, horses, flashing scimitars, gleaming daggers and plunging spears, in the midst of clouds of dust and streaming scarfs.

The combat was long, and at one time the party of Mohammed seemed to waver. The prophet rushed out, threw a handful of dust into the air and exclaimed:

"May confusion light upon their faces! Charge, ye faithful! charge for Allah and his prophet!"

Nothing could withstand the wild dash made by his men. Filled with the passion of enthusiasm, the zeal of fanatics, and the confidence of success, they bore down like madmen. The Koreish, many of whom were fearful of enchantment by the prophet, were seized with sudden panic. In vain Abu Jahl tried to rally them. He was torn from his horse by a savage Moslem, and his head severed from his body. His troops fled in terror, leaving seventy men dead on the field and seventy prisoners.

The bodies and prisoners were robbed, and the spoil divided. Mohammed, in order to avert dispute over the booty, very conveniently had a revelation at the time.--"Know that whenever ye gain any spoil, a fifth part thereof belongeth unto God, and to the apostle, and to his kindred, and the orphans, and the poor, and the traveler."

Upon this occasion he claimed a considerable amount of silver, and a sword, Dhu'l Fakar (or the Piercer), which he carried in every subsequent battle.

During the battle, Yusuf, the priest, had fought bravely. Mounted on a magnificent horse, his commanding figure had marked him out as an object worthy of attack. Accordingly he was ever in the thickest of the fight. With cool and calm determination his blows fell, until suddenly an event occurred which completely unmanned him, and gave his enemies the advantage.

Among the opponents who singled him out for attack was a youth mounted on a horse of equal power and agility. The youth was rather slight, but his skill in thrusting and in averting strokes, and his evidence of practice in every exercise of the lance, rendered him a fitting adversary for the priest with his superior strength.

For some time their combat had gone on single-handed, when the youth's head-dress falling off revealed a face strikingly familiar to Yusuf. It was Manasseh's own face, pale, and with clots of blood upon it!

The priest was horror-stricken. He forbore to thrust, and the youth, seizing the opportunity, made a quick lunge, piercing the priest's shoulder, and felling him to the ground. A new opponent came and engaged the youth's attention; the panic fell, and the priest, seeing that it was useless to remain, managed to mount and ride off after the retreating troops.

Scarcely injured, yet covered with blood, he dismounted at Amzi's door in Medina.

"Yusuf! My brother!" cried the Meccan in astonishment, "what means this?"

In a few words Yusuf told the tale of the battle, and Amzi placed him comfortably upon a soft couch, insisting upon ministering to him as though he had been severely wounded.

"So, Yusuf the gentle too has become a seeker of man's blood!" he said. "Verily, what an effect hath this degenerate age!"

"Believe me, friend," returned the other, earnestly, "you too would have gone had you been in Mecca and had heard of our poor friends, all unarmed, and apparently in the power of the enemy. When the advance to Bedr was ordered, I was one under authority, and had no choice but to submit, though I had little enough love for the stench of blood."

"Yet," returned Amzi, "Yusuf's life is too precious to be risked in such madness. It is not necessary for him to court death; for the time may soon come when he shall be forced to fight in self-defence. Till then, let foolish youths dash to the lance's point if they will."

Yusuf bowed his head, and in a low tone replied: "'O God, the Lord, the strength of my salvation, thou hast covered my head in the day of battle. He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was against me. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. He that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in him will I trust.' Amzi, whether in life or in death, it shall be as he wills."

Amzi looked at him curiously. "Yusuf," he said, "is there no extremity of your life in which your religion fails to give you comfort? It seems to furnish you with words befitting every occasion."

"Comfort in every hour of need," returned Yusuf, "deliverance in every hour of temptation, is our God able to bestow if we seek him in spirit and in truth. Things temporal, as well as things spiritual, call for his almighty love and attention; and our love for him brightens every pathway in life. It is the knowledge of this which has upheld his children in all the ages;--not one of them who has not gloried in feeling that 'God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in time of trouble. Therefore will we not fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea.' Not one of them but has at some time found comfort in the promises, 'When the poor and the needy seek water, and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst, I the Lord will hear them; I, the God of Israel, will not forsake them. He that keepeth Israel slumbers not, nor sleeps. Fear thou not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.' Think of this help, Amzi, in every struggle: in the struggle, worse than any time of battle, with one's own sinful heart. And there is not one of God's children but has realized the blessedness of following the commands of Jesus, 'Have faith in God. Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.' Amzi, you who love gentleness and peace, truth and humility, cannot you find in Christ and his loving precepts all you would ask? Can anything appeal to your warm heart more than such injunctions as these?--'Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you and persecute you. When thou doest alms, let not thy left hand know what thy right hand doeth. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. Judge not, that ye be not judged. Watch ye, therefore, and pray always. Pray that ye enter not into temptation.'"

He paused, out of breath; for such had been his study of the Scriptures that the words came in a flood to his lips.

Amzi sighed. "Yes, Yusuf," he said, "such words seem to me full of goodness and sweetness; yet, try as I may, I cannot realize their true import. I cannot rejoice, as you and your friends do, in your religion and its promises."

"My Amzi," returned the priest, "how can you be warmed except you come to the fire? Remember the man with the withered hand. Did he not stretch it out in faith? My friend, like him, act! Reach out your heart to God. He will not fail you. Look not upon yourself. Look upon God, who is, indeed, closer to you than you can imagine. Put your hand in his, behold his love manifested to us in the coming of his dear Son, and feel that that love is to-day the same, proceeding from the Father in whom is 'no variableness, neither shadow of turning.'"

Amzi sighed. "Yusuf," he said, "it appears all dark, impenetrable, to me. A wall of adamant seems to stand between me and God. Pray for me, friend. In this matter I fear I am heartless."

In spite of this assertion, there was genuine concern in the tone, and the priest's face flushed in the glad light of hope.

"Amzi," he exclaimed, "my hope for you increases. Even now, you begin to realize your own self: it remains for you to realize God's self. Know God--would I could burn that upon your heart! All else would be made plain."

Amzi sighed again. For a time he sat in silence, then he said:

"I have been reading of the tabernacle, and of the sacrifices therein."

"Typical of the death of Christ," returned Yusuf. "A constant emblem of that mind which was, and is to-day, ready to suffer, that we may understand its infinite love."

"Strange, strange!" said Amzi, musingly. Then after a long silence: "Yusuf, have you ever noted the resemblance of the Caaba to the reputed appearance of the tabernacle?"

"The resemblance struck me from the first glance--the courtyard, the temple itself, and the curtain (or 'Kiswah') corresponding to the veil of the tabernacle. This same Caaba may trace its origin in some dim way to the ancient tabernacle, of which, in this land, the significance must have become lost in the centuries during which the Ishmaelitish race forgot the true worship of God."

"And what think you of the course which affairs are now taking in Arabia?" asked Amzi. "You believe in the supervision of God; why, then, does he permit such outbreaks as the present one is proving to be?"

"I certainly believe that the Creator sees and knows all things. I believe, too, that even to Mohammed, at one time in his life, the Holy Spirit appealed, as he did to me, and, I hope, does now to you, Amzi,--for his pleadings come sometime to all men; but, I think that if in earnest at first, Mohammed--if, indeed, he be not a monomaniac on the subject of his divine calling--has given himself up to the wild indulgence of his ambition, forgetting Him whose power is able to direct us all aright. Hence, he guides himself, rather than seeks to be guided, and, in such a case, he may sometimes be allowed to go on in his own way, bearing with him those who are so foolish as to accept his teaching. Something of this kind may, indeed, be one of the secrets of the crimes and calamities which enter into many human lives. God leaves us free to choose. When we come to know him we choose to be his followers. If we are indifferent to him, he may, at times, look on without interfering in our lives except to send us occasionally great trouble, or great joy, as an appeal to us. His mercy is great. He pities and pleads with us, yet he leaves us free."

"And what, think you, will be the effect upon Arabia of this rising?"

Yusuf shook his head. "I know not," he said. "We cannot see now, nor mayhap until ages have rolled by; but 'at eventide it shall be light.'"

So talked Amzi and the priest until the gray dawn shone in, and the voice of Bilal, the muezzin, was heard calling from the mosque:

"God is great! There is no God but God! Mohammed is the prophet of God! Come to prayers! God is great!"