The Days of Mohammed Part 29

"I believe that he was the Son of G.o.d; that he lived on the very hills to the north of us; that he died to reveal to us the greatness of his love. Yet--" He paused.

"'Whosoever believeth on the Son hath everlasting life,'" said Yusuf in a low tone.

"I know, but--" the youth hesitated again.

"But what, Kedar?" asked the priest.

"Jesus said to Nicodemus," returned the youth, "'Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of heaven.' Yusuf, this is what bothers me. I cannot understand this being born again."

"Let us call it, then, just 'beginning to love and trust Jesus,'" said Yusuf quietly.

Kedar almost started in his surprise. This aspect of the question had never appeared to him before. For a long time he sat, deep in thought, and Yusuf did not break in upon his meditations.

"Is that all?" he asked at length.

"That is all," returned Yusuf. "To trust him you must believe in him, love him, recognize his love, and leave everything to his guidance--everything in this physical life, in your spiritual life, and in the life to come. Then you will find peace. All your days will be spent in a loving round of happy labor, in which no work seems low or trifling--happy because love to Jesus begets the wish to do his will in every affair of life; and perfect love renders service, not a bondage, but the joyful spontaneity of freedom."

Kedar was again silent, then he said slowly:

"Yusuf, I begin to understand it all now; yet--is there something wrong still?--I have not the overpowering thrill of joy, the exuberance of feeling, the wondrous rapture of delight, which Amzi says he experienced, when, in the prison of Medina, he saw the light."

"Be not discouraged, my son," was the reply. "To different temperaments, in religion as in all else, the truth appeals in different ways. If you are trusting implicitly now in G.o.d's love, go on without doubt or fear.

Most Christians--growing Christians--find that at different stages in their experience certain truths stand out more clearly, and, as the days go by, their difficulties clear away like mists before the morning sun."

"Yusuf, can I ever become such a Christian as you?" returned Kedar, in a half-awed tone at the thought.

"My son, look not on me," returned Yusuf, tenderly. "Strive only to perceive Jesus in all your life, to find him a reality to you--a companion, ever with you, walking by your side in the hot mart, riding by you in the desert, sitting by you in solitude,--then, where he is, evil cannot come. Your life will become all upright, conscientious, and loving, for his life will show through yours."

"And do temptations never come to those so blessed?"

"Ah, yes, Kedar, so long as life lasts 'our adversary, the devil, goeth about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.' Yet, think you that the G.o.d who 'stretcheth out the heavens as a curtain, who layeth the beams of his chambers in the waters, who maketh the clouds his chariot, who walketh upon the wings of the wind, who maketh his angels spirits, his ministers a naming fire'--think you that such an One is not able to stand between you and the tempter? Think you that he before whom devils cried out in fear, is not able to deliver you from the power of evil? Kedar, know that the Christian may even glory in his own weakness, for Jesus has said, 'My strength is made perfect in weakness;' and yet, while thus feeling his helplessness, the believer must ever be conscious of the unconquerable strength of Christ, and should rest serene in the knowledge that, clothed in the full armor of G.o.d, he is able to withstand all the darts of the wicked one."

Kedar said no more, but from that hour his humility, his patience, his gentleness, began to show forth as the outcome of the power of that working of the Spirit, whose fruit is "love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance."

CHAPTER XXIX.

KEDAR RETURNS TO HIS HOME.

"Death exempts not a man from being, but only presents an alteration."--_Bacon._

When Kedar left Yusuf on that memorable night it was not to sleep. He ascended the stair and went out upon the hanging balcony, where he could look at the sky and the mountains, and ponder over the conversation of the evening. His was not the excitable, rapturous joy experienced by many, but a feeling of quiet contentment that settled upon his soul, and brought a calm smile to his features.

So he sat, when Mana.s.seh burst upon him exclaiming, "What! my invalid able to stay up all the night as well as half the day! Come, listen to me! I have news!"

"Yes?"

"This evening a courier from Medina arrived in the city. He has with him a proclamation requiring all unsubmissive Jews to leave Mecca by to-morrow night at the latest."

"So soon!" exclaimed Kedar. "Where are they to go?"

"I have just talked with Yusuf, and with Amzi, who, poor fat man! is trying to get a little sleep in the fresh air of the housetop. They propose that we join my father's family in Palestine. Of course, I do not object!" added the youth, with a smile.

"Think you it will be safe for so small a band to face the dangers of the desert alone?" asked Kedar.

"A caravan leaves for Damascus to-morrow," replied Mana.s.seh.

"Fortunately we may obtain its protection."

"Good! Then I shall turn aside to the table-lands of Nejd and see my parents again," said Kedar.

"Think you your parents would join our band?"

Kedar shook his head. "Not likely. You see my father has lived all his days as a Bedouin. To be tied down to commerce he would consider a degradation. Neither would he become a shepherd, as watching sheep is a task held fit for women only in our tribe."

"And will you stay with them, Kedar?" asked Mana.s.seh.

"I know not. We will see what the future has in store; but, at any rate," he added, half slyly, "your cousin Kedar will wear the Moslem turban no more."

The tone, rather than the words, told all. Mana.s.seh took a quick, sharp look at the face smiling quietly in the moonlight, then he seized Kedar's hand warmly and whispered, "I am glad."

The following day was spent in packing and bidding adieux. Yusuf and Amzi pa.s.sed the last hours among their poor, and, from the housetop, Kedar and Mana.s.seh saw them returning in the evening, followed by a ragged crowd who clung to their gowns or wiped tearful eyes with tattered sleeves.

The sun went down as the caravan left the city, and on an eminence above, the little Jewish band stopped to take a last look at their old home--Mecca, with its low houses, its crooked streets, its mystic Caaba, and its weird mountain scenery.

All gray it lay beneath the shades of falling night; yet, as they looked, a wondrous change ensued. Gradually the landscape began to brighten; the houses shone forth; the aloe trees became green; the side of Abu Kubays sparkled with a seemingly self-emitted light; the rocks of the red mountain were dyed with a rosy glow; the Caaba grew more and more distinct, until even the folds of its kiswah were visible; and the sand of the narrow valley shone, beneath a saffron sky above, with a coppery radiance. It was the wondrous "after-glow" of the Orient,--a scene unique in its beauty, yet not often beheld in so sheltered a spot as Mecca.

The exiles, with tearful eyes, looked upon the fair landscape, which thus seemed to bid them an inanimate farewell. Then, as the glow paled and the rocks again took their sombre hue, and the city faded in redoubled shadow, the little band turned slowly away, and followed in the wake of the caravan now winding through the pa.s.s at some distance.

The Hebrew band consisted of twenty souls, among whom were Sherah, the daughter of Asru, and her mother, and the old white-haired man Benjamin, who had preached in the church and had become a father indeed to Asru's family.

Needless to speak of the long, tedious journey. Suffice it to say that, while the caravan wound through the north of El Hejaz, Kedar and Mana.s.seh turned aside to the fresher plateaux of the Nejd, and the Bedouin once more found himself amid the scenes of his boyhood.

His spirits rose as the cool breeze from the plains struck him. The vision of sweet home--sweet to the roving Bedouin as to the pampered child of luxury--rose before him, and he urged his horse on with an ever-increasing anxiety.

From neighboring tribes they found out the way to Musa's present encampment, then, spurring their horses on over a crisp plain, and beguiling the time with many a laugh and jest, they proceeded in the direction indicated, until, in a broad valley, the circle of tents lay before them.

"Come, Mana.s.seh," said Kedar, "let us give them a surprise. Let us take a turn up yonder hill and swoop down upon them like a falcon."

"Agreed!" quoth Mana.s.seh; and, with almost childish pleasure, they proceeded to make a short detour, and then galloped rapidly down from the hill-crest.

The encampment was strangely quiet.

"What is the matter, Mana.s.seh?" asked Kedar. "There is scarcely anyone about."

A few dogs now set up a savage barking, and a man came out with a heavy whip and drove them, yelping, away.