The Days of Mohammed | Page 7

"But I shall
call Lois. The men have all gone from the tent, and mayhap she can tell
what you want."
So saying, he entered the women's apartment, and sent his wife to
Yusuf.
"You wish to know of Jesus of Nazareth?" she said. "Alas, I am but a
poor teacher. I am unworthy even to speak his name. I married when
but a child, and since then I have wandered far from him, for there have
been few to teach me. Yet I know that he was in very truth the Son of
God. He was all-good. He healed the sick on this earth, and forgave sin.
Then, woe, woe to me!--he was crucified,--crucified by my people!
And he went up to heaven; his disciples saw him go up in the white
clouds of a bright day."
"Where dwells he now? Is he one of the spirits of the stars?"
"I know not. He is in heaven."
"And does he stoop to take notice of us, the children of earth?"
"Alas, I know not! There was once a time when Jesus was more than a
name to me. When I knelt, a child, beside my mother on the grassy hills
of Hebron, it seemed that Jesus was, in some vague way, a reality to me;
but long years of forgetfulness have passed since then. Stranger, I wish
you well. Your words have brought back to me the desire to know more
of him. If you learn aught of him, and it ever lies in your way to do so,
come and tell us,--my Musa and me,--that we too may learn of him."
Rising to her feet, the woman saluted the Persian and left him. Musa

entered to conduct him to the rugs set apart for his couch, and soon all
was silent about the encampment.
But ere he fell asleep, Yusuf went out into the moonlight. The night
was filled with the peculiar lightness of an Oriental night. The moon
blazed down like a globe of molten silver, and a few large stars glowed
with scarcely secondary brilliance. In the silvery brightness he could
easily read the manuscript given him by the Jew. It was the story of the
man with the withered hand, whose infirmity was healed by Jesus in
the synagogue. And there, in the starlight, the priest bowed his head,
and a throng of pent-up emotions throbbed in his breast.
"Spirits of the stars, show me God. If this Jesus be indeed the Son of
God, show me him. Give me faith, such faith as had he of the withered
hand, that I too may stretch forth my hand and be made whole; that I
may look, and in looking, see."
This was his prayer. Ah, yet, the "spirits of the stars" were as a bridge
to the gulf which, he fancied, lay between him and Infinite Mercy.
CHAPTER III.
YUSUF MEETS AMZI, THE MECCAN.
"Mecca's pilgrims, confident of Fate, And resolute in heart."
--_Longfellow._
The next morning, Yusuf, against the remonstrances of Musa and his
wife, prepared to proceed on his way. Like the Ancient Mariner, he felt
forced to go on, "to pass like night from land to land," until he obtained
that which he sought.
When he was almost ready to depart, a horseman came galloping down
the valley, with the news that a caravan, en route for Mecca, was
almost in sight, and would make a brief halt near the stream by which
Musa's tents were pitched. Yusuf at once determined to avail himself of
the timely protection on his journey.

Presently the caravan appeared, a long, irregular line--camels bearing
"shugdufs," or covered litters; swift dromedaries, mounted by tawny
Arabs whose long Indian shawls were twisted about their heads and fell
in fringed ends upon their backs; fiery Arabian horses, ridden by Arabs
swaying long spears or lances in their hands; heavily-laden pack-mules,
whose leaders walked beside them, urging them on with sticks, and
giving vent to shrill cries as they went; and lastly a line of pilgrims,
some trudging along wearily, some riding miserable beasts, whose ribs
shone through their roughened hides, while others rode, in the proud
security of ease and affluence, in comfortable litters, or upon animals
whose sleek and well-fed appearance comported with the self-satisfied
air of their riders.
A halt was called, and immediately all was confusion. Tents were
hurriedly thrown up; the pack-mules were unburdened for a moment;
the horses, scenting the water, began to neigh and sniff the air; infants,
who had been crammed into saddle-bags with their heads out, were
hauled from their close quarters; the horsemen of Musa, still balancing
their tufted spears, dashed in and out; while his herdsmen, anxious to
keep the flocks from mixing with the caravan, shrieked and gesticulated,
hurrying the