The Days of Mohammed Part 25

And while the fanatics below prostrated themselves he prayed long and loudly.

Then the tents were pitched and the siege began. For many days it lasted. So abundant had been the supplies of food, and so numerous the droves of animals brought into the city, that those within the walls had no fear of famine. But so complete was the devastation of the country that the prophet's troops began to suffer for want of food. Yet they waited, as a suitable time of attack had not arrived. In the meantime they were engaged in digging trenches as a protection to the troops.

Mana.s.seh and Asru were much together. They had become like brothers, and night after night they met on the citadel and looked out over the strange scene that was presented to the inhabitants of Khabar every evening during the siege. For, daily, just as the sun was setting, the whole Moslem army, with the prophet praying loudly at its head, set out in solemn procession, then proceeded round and round the city until seven circuits were completed, as in Tawaf at the Caaba.

Many among the more superst.i.tious Jews of Khabar and their few Koreish adherents felt a thrill of awe as they looked upon this ceremony, fearing that the prophet was again practicing his arts of enchantment upon them; but the performance never failed to bring the smile of scorn to Asru's lips.

"Blind fanatics!" he exclaimed one evening. "A precious set of idiots!"

But Mana.s.seh looked serious. "Asru," he said, "of course, I do not believe in all this; yet there is a something solemn in it to me. It makes me think of the seven circuits made about Jericho, when the priests blew upon the trumpets and the walls fell."

"Ah, but the voice of Jehovah gave the order then; now,"--and he smiled contemptuously--"the commanding voice is that of Mohammed, the peaceful Meccan trader, anon the gentle prophet of Allah, anon the blood-thirsty vulture and cut-throat robber, destroyer of life and liberty."

"Verily, Asru the Moslem soldier has completely changed," returned Mana.s.seh, smiling.

"Aye, Mana.s.seh, thanks to the peaceful Gospel of Jesus, Asru the Moslem, the lover of war, would now fain see this fair land smiling with happy homes and peaceful tillers of the soil. What is that about the child and the c.o.c.katrice?"

"'And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall lay its hand on the c.o.c.katrice' den. They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea,'" quoted Mana.s.seh solemnly.

Asru looked thoughtfully out towards the distant hills, but he did not see them. He saw a quiet home in Mecca, where a pale-faced wife, a beautiful daughter, and two bright-eyed boys, sat.

"Mana.s.seh," he said at length, "it may be that I shall be killed in this battle. If I am and you are spared, go to my wife and children. Tell them the Gospel for me. My great regret is that I myself put it off until too late. Will you, Mana.s.seh?"

Mana.s.seh pressed his friend's hand warmly. "You may trust me, if I live," he said simply. And the soldier was satisfied.

"Mana.s.seh, I am rich," he continued. "See that my wealth is used for the best."

Mana.s.seh pressed his hand again, and the tall soldier left him, feeling that, whatever happened, this young man's fidelity and integrity could be depended upon.

And now the Moslem army began to weary of inaction. Several desultory attacks were made by them, and battering-rams were set in play against the walls, but with no effect, until a grand attempt was decided upon.

Night had scarcely faded into morning, and the rock of Mansela still stood black and shapeless against a gray sky, when a commotion was seen in the Moslem camp. Mohammed's troops no longer made the wild onslaught of untrained Bedouin hordes. The experience of scores of engagements had taught their leader the necessity of system; and now the host began to move in regular order in three main divisions. Above the center one floated the sacred flag of the prophet; to the right waved Ali's standard, a design of the sun; and to the left fluttered the Black Eagle of Abu Beker's division.

The battle began by an a.s.sault led by Abu Beker. Scaling-ladders were placed, and the Moslems swarmed up the walls, but a desperate band led by Al Hareth met them, and the besieging party, after a sharp fight, was compelled to withdraw. Shouts of triumph and jeers of derision arose from the city walls. The Moslems were frantic. Cries of vengeance were heard from their ranks.

Then Ali, shouting, "For G.o.d and the prophet!" dashed forward. He was dressed in scarlet, and wore a cuira.s.s of steel. Over his head he waved the prophet's sword, and at the head of his division floated a sacred banner. Straight on he dashed towards a breach in the wall, and there, on a pile of loose stones, he fixed the standard.

Al Hareth rushed to the fore, and a desperate, single-handed combat ensued. The Moslem army and the garrison of the city alike held their breath. The contest was unequal. In a moment Al Hareth had fallen, and a mighty cheer burst from the prophet's men.

Mana.s.seh was stationed at the head of a band of hors.e.m.e.n, whom he was now with difficulty keeping in check. Yet for a moment he forgot all in watching a figure that was ascending the breach.

Whose but Asru's that gigantic form? Whose but Asru's that floating turban of white--that helmet in which flashed a diamond placed there by Kenana's own hand? Whose but Asru's that clanking sword and that three-p.r.o.nged spear which none but he could wield?

"Surely now the Moslem will waver!" thought the youth; and with bated breath he watched this second combat, waged beside the bleeding form of Asru's dead brother.

With dauntless air the Moslem awaited the coming of Asru. They closed upon each other. The armies looked on, motionless, breathless, the combatants struggled, a writhing ma.s.s, broken only by the flash of the spear and glitter of the lance, as deadly blows were dealt or parried--and the sunshine rained from above. The very air seemed to stand still in watching, and the clash of every stroke was borne, with painful distinctness, to the ears of Asru's friend.

The combat was an equal one, Ali's agility matching well the superior strength of his antagonist, and it was not soon over. At last the Moslem seemed to stagger.

There, there, Asru, strike! He falls, he falls! There is your advantage!

Strike! Joy, joy! victory is ours!

But no! Ye G.o.ds, what is wrong! Why stands Asru there, helpless? Why does he not act? By Allah, he loses time! Ha! his turban end has become twisted over his eyes beneath his helmet! Help! Help! Ye G.o.ds! Ha! Ali rises with a sharp recoil! He strikes! Woe! Woe! Asru is down!

A shout breaks afresh from the Moslem army as the brave Asru's body is dragged to one side of the breach. And now the Moslems dash forward like an avalanche. The breach widens; the green and yellow turbans swarm within the walls. Mana.s.seh's horse dash forward. Over the open square a detachment of Moslem horse is spurring, the hors.e.m.e.n bending low as they ride, their maddened animals, gorgeous in trappings of scarlet, yellow and blue, with tails knotted at the ends, "like unto the heads of serpents." With regular sway the long spears swing with the motion of the horses.

Clash! The opposing forces meet. Men fall. Horses roll over in the dust.

Back! Back! The Moslems are in headlong flight! Yet one youth fights on.

Straight for the young Jewish leader he dashes. Blows rain on each side.

Some of the Jewish horse close round.

"Keep off, men!" shouts Mana.s.seh. "Would ye attack a man fifty to one?"

Blows fall faster and breath comes in short gasps.

The Moslem's horse gives way beneath him, and falls with a shriek backwards. The gallant youth springs to his feet, then throws up his arms and falls. His turban drops off from his brow, and, for the first time, Mana.s.seh recognizes Kedar.

He turns sick. Is the Moslem dead? No, his heart still beats. "Here, men, take him into that house. I will seek him later."

On goes the young leader to a fresh scene of battle. Alas! in the meantime the poorly-armed Jews have been everywhere driven back. The Moslems have entered the citadel; the Jews give way before them everywhere. Even his own hopeful spirit cannot revive them. They are seized with a panic and fly, leaving the brave youth almost alone.

Mana.s.seh was soon overpowered, bound, and thrown into the corner of a great hall of the citadel, where he lay apparently forgotten, listening, with heavy heart, to the shrieks and cries of his countrymen without, and to the hum of war, gradually growing fainter, until it ceased, and he knew that the conflict was over. The Moslems began to enter the hall, among them Mohammed.

The prophet took his seat at the end of the apartment, and presently several of the chief citizens were brought in with hands bound. Mana.s.seh perceived that a tribunal was being held, and, from his corner, listened eagerly to the sentence pa.s.sed upon each.

It soon appeared that treasure was the prophet's aim. Exorbitant demands were made upon the rich merchants, who, pale and trembling, offered their all in exchange for their lives. Among the rest, Kenana, with his handsome wife, was brought in.

"They tell me, Kenana," said the prophet, "that you have immense wealth stored up in this citadel. If you desire your life, inform me where this treasure is."

"I have no treasure in the citadel," said Kenana, proudly; "and if I had, the apostle of Azazil should not know of it."

The prophet's face colored with pa.s.sion. "Apostle of Azazil! O blasphemer!" he exclaimed. "Do you then thus defy the only, the true prophet of Allah?"

"I do."

"Then we shall see what can be done with a stubborn infidel spirit!"

returned Mohammed. "Hither! Apply the torture!"

A machine of fiendish invention was applied to the chief's hands. His fingers were squeezed until the bones cracked; his veins swelled in agony; yet no sound escaped his lips. He could not, or would not, tell where the treasure was concealed, and he was handed over to a Moslem whose brother Kenana had slain. Mana.s.seh closed his eyes in horror, for he knew that Kenana's fate was sealed.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The Moslem's horse gives way beneath him!--See page 76.]

Kenana's wife, Safiya, was taken by Mohammed, and on the homeward march she became the wife of the prophet.

Mana.s.seh lay there in great depression of spirit. He was weary in mind and cramped in body, and it almost seemed as though he were completely forsaken. Yet his ever-present source of comfort returned to him, and like a sweet refrain came the words into his mind: "Thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in his distress, a refuge from the storm, a shadow from the heat, when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall."

The half-starved Moslem troops now began to clamor for food, and the defenceless Jewish women were forced to prepare victuals and to serve their conquerors. Among these women entered Zaynab, the niece of Asru.

She placed a shoulder of mutton before the prophet, then went towards the door. Perceiving Mana.s.seh in the corner, she severed his bonds with a quick stroke of a small dagger, then, shielding him as best she might, she bade him begone.

"Have hope!" she whispered in his ear. "I have poisoned the prophet."