CHAPTER VII
AT THE KAABA
The day before the pilgrimage.
A cloud had hung over the valley where Mecca lies like drift in the bedof a winding gorge. About ten o'clock in the morning the clouddisappeared over the summit of Abu Kubays in the east. The promise ofrain was followed by a simoom so stifling that it plunged everybreathing thing into a struggle for air. The dogs burrowed in the shadeof old walls; birds flew about with open beaks; the herbage wilted, andthe leaves on the stunted shrubs ruffled, then rolled up, like dryingcinnamon. If the denizens of the city found no comfort in their housesof stone and mud, what suffering was there for the multitude not yetfully settled in the blistering plain beyond the bluffs of Arafat?
The zealous pilgrim, obedient to the law, always makes haste tocelebrate his arrival at the Holy City by an immediate visit to theHaram. If perchance he is to see the enclosure for the first time, hiscuriosity, in itself pardonable, derives a tinge of piety from duty.The Prince of India but illustrated the rule. He left his tents pitchedclose to those of the Emir El Hajj and the Scherif of Mecca, under theMountain of Mercy, as Arafat was practically translated by the veryfaithful. Having thus assured the safety of his property, forconveniency and greater personal comfort he took a house with windowslooking into the Mosque. By so doing, he maintained the dignity of hischaracter as a Prince of India. The beggars thronging his doorfurnished lively evidence of the expectations his title and greatnesshad already excited.
With a guide, his suite, and Nilo shading his head with an umbrella oflight green paper, the Prince appeared in front of the chief entranceto the sacred square from the north. [Footnote: The Bab el Vzyadeh.]
The heads of the party were bare; their countenances becomingly solemn;their _Ihram_ fresh and spotlessly white. Passing slowly on, they wereconducted under several outside arches, and down a stairway into ahall, where they left the umbrella and their shoes.
The visitor found himself then in a cloister of the Mosque with whichthe area around the Kaaba is completely enclosed. There was a pavementof undressed flags, and to the right and left a wilderness of tallpillars tied together by arches, which in turn supported domes. Numbersof people, bareheaded and barefooted, to whom the heat outside wasinsupportable, were in refuge there; some, seated upon the stones,revolved their rosaries; others walked slowly about. None spoke. Thesilence was a tribute to the ineffable sanctity of the place. Therefreshing shade, the solemn hush, the whiteness of the garments weresuggestive of sepulchres and their spectral tenantry.
In the square whither the Prince next passed, the first object tochallenge his attention was the Kaaba itself. At sight of it heinvoluntarily stopped.
The cloisters, seen from the square, were open colonnades. Sevenminarets, belted in red, blue and yellow, arose in columnar reliefagainst the sky and the mountains in the south. A gravelled plotreceived from the cloisters; next that, toward the centre, was a narrowpavement of rough stone in transverse extension down a shallow step toanother gravelled plot; then another pavement wider than the first, andending, like it, in a downward step; after which there was a thirdsanded plot, and then a third pavement defined by gilded postsupholding a continuous row of lamps, ready for lighting at the goingdown of the sun. The last pavement was of gray granite polishedmirror-like by the friction of millions of bare feet; and upon it, likethe pedestal of a monument upon a plinth, rested the base of the HolyHouse, a structure of glassy white marble about two feet in height,with a bench of sharp inclination from the top. At intervals it wasstudded with massive brass rings. Upon the base the Kaaba rose, anoblong cube forty feet tall, eighteen paces lengthwise, and fourteen inbreadth, shrouded all in black silk wholly unrelieved, except by onebroad band of the appearance of gold, and inscriptions from the Koran,of a like appearance, wrought in boldest lettering. The freshness ofthe great gloomy curtain told how quickly the gift of the Sultan hadbeen made available, and that whatever else might betide him, the youngEmir was already happily discharged of his trust.
Of the details, the only one the Jew actually coupled with a thoughtwas the Kaaba. A hundred millions of human beings pray five times everyday, their faces turned to this funereal object! The idea, thoughcommonplace, called up that other always in waiting with him. In aspace too brief for the formulation of words, he felt the Arbitershipof his dreams blow away. The work of the founder of Islam was too welldone and now too far gone to be disturbed, except with the sanction ofGod. Had he the sanction? A writhing of the soul, accompanied with aglare, like lightning, and followed, like lightning, by an engulfingdarkness, wrung his features, and instinctively he covered them withhis hands. The guide saw the action, and misjudged it.
"Let us not be in haste," he said. "Others before you have found theHouse at first sight blinding. Blessed be Allah!"
The commiseration affected the Prince strangely. The darkness, underpressure of his hands upon the eyeballs, gave place to an atmosphere ofroseate light, in the fulness of which he saw the House of Godprojected by Solomon and rebuilt by Herod. The realism of theapparition was absolute, and comparison unavoidable. That he, familiarwith the glory of the conception of the Israelite, should be thoughtblinded by this _Beit Allah_ of the Arab, so without grace of form orlines, so primitive and expressionless, so palpably uninspired bytaste, or genius, or the Deity it was designed to honor, restored himat once: indeed, in the succeeding reaction, he found it difficult tokeep down resentment. Dropping his hands, he took another survey of theshrouded pile, and swept all the square under eye.
He beheld a crowd of devotees at the northeast corner of the House, andover their heads two small open structures which, from descriptionsoften heard, he recognized as praying places. A stream of worshipperswas circling around the marble base of the Most Holy, some walking,others trotting; these, arriving at the northeast corner, halted--theBlack Stone was there! A babel of voices kept the echoes of theenclosure in unremitting exercise. The view taken, the Jew said, calmly:
"Blessed be Allah! I will go forward."
In his heart he longed to be in Constantinople--Islam, it was clear,would lend him no ear; Christendom might be more amenable.
He was carried next through the Gate of the Sons of the Old Woman;thence to the space in front of the well Zem-Zem; mindful of theprayers and prostrations required at each place, and of the dumbservants who went with him.
The famous well was surrounded by a throng apparently impassable.
"Room for the Royal Hadji--for the Prince of India!" the guide yelled."There are no poor where he is--make way!"
A thousand eyes sought the noble pilgrim; and as a path opened for him,a score of _Zem-Zemis_ refilled their earthen cups with the bitterwater afresh. A Prince of Hind did not come to them every day.
He tasted from a cup--his followers drank--and when the party turnedaway there were jars paid for to help all the blind in the caravan backto healthful vision.
"There is no God but Allah! Be merciful to him, O Allah," the crowdshouted, in approval of the charity.
The press of pilgrims around the northeastern corner of the Kaaba, towhich the guide would have conducted the Prince next, was greater thanat the well. Each was waiting his turn to kiss the Black Stone beforebeginning the seven circuits of the House.
Never had the new-comer seen a concourse so wrought upon by fanaticism;never had he seen a concourse so peculiarly constituted. Allcomplexions, even that of the interior African, were a reddish deserttan. Eyes fiercely bright appeared unnaturally swollen from thecolirium with which they were generally stained. The diversities thepenitential costume would have masked were effectually exposed whenevermouths opened for utterance. Many sang, regardless of time or melody,the _tilbiye_ they had hideously vocalized in their advance toward thecity. For the most part, however, the effort at expression spent itselfin a long cry, literally rendered--"Thou hast called me--I am here! Iam here!" The deliverance was in the vernacular of the devotee, and lowor loud, shrill or hoarse, according to the intensity of the p
assionpossessing him.
To realize the discordancy, the reader must recall the multiplicity ofthe tribes and nations represented; then will he fancy the agitation ofthe mass, the swaying of the white-clad bodies, the tossing of barearms and distended hands, the working of tearful faces turned up to theblack-curtained pile regardless of the smiting of the sun--here men ontheir knees, there men grovelling on the pavement--yonder one beatinghis breast till it resounds like an empty cask--some comprehension ofthe living obstruction in front of the Jew can be had.
Then the guide, calling him, tried the throng.
"The Prince of India!" he shouted, at the top of his voice. "Room forthe beloved of the Prophet! Stand not in his way--Room, room!"
After much persistence the object was achieved. A pilgrim, the last onein front of the Prince, with arms extended along the two sides of theangle of the wall where the curtain was looped up, seemed struggling toembrace the House; suddenly, as in despair he beat his head franticallyagainst the sharp corner--a second thrust more desperate than thefirst--then a groan, and he dropped blindly to the pavement. The guiderejoicing made haste to push the Prince into the vacant place.
Without the enthusiasm of a traveller, calmly as a philosopher, theJew, himself again, looked at the Stone which more nearly than anyother material thing commanded idolatrous regard from the Mohammedanworld. He had known personally most of the great men of that world--itspoets, lawmakers, warriors, ascetics, kings--even the Prophet. And nowthey came one by one, as one by one they had come in their severaldays, and kissed the insensate thing; and between the coming and goingtime was scarcely perceptible. The mind has the faculty of compressing,by one mighty effort, the incidents of a life, even of centuries, intoa flash-like reenactment.
As all the way from the first view of the sanctuary to arrival at thegate, and thence to this point, the Jew had promptly followed hisguide, especially in recitation of the prescribed prayers, he was aboutto do so now; already his hands were raised.
"Great God! O my God! I believe in Thee--I Believe in thy Book--Ibelieve in thy Word--I believe in thy Promise," the zealous promptersaid, and waited.
For the first time the votary was slow to respond. How could he, atsuch a juncture, refuse a thought to the Innumerables whose ghosts hadbeen rendered up in vain struggles to obey the law which required themto come and make proof of faith before this Stone! The Innumerables,lost at sea, lost in the desert--lost body and soul, as in their dyingthey themselves had imagined! Symbolism! An invention of men--anecessity of necromancers! God had his ministers and priests, theliving media of his will, but of symbols--nothing!
"Great God! O my God!" the guide began again. A paroxysm of disgustseized the votary. The Phariseeism in which he was born and bred, andwhich he could no more outlive than he could outlive his body asserteditself.
In the crisis of the effort at self-control, he heard a groan, and,looking down, saw the mad devotee at his feet. In sliding from theshelf of the base, the man had been turned upon his back, so that hewas lying face upward. On the forehead there were two cruel wounds; andthe blood, yet flowing, had partially filled the hollows of the eyes,making the countenance unrecognizable.
"The wretch is dying," the Prince exclaimed.
"Allah is merciful--let us attend to the prayers," the guide returned,intent on business.
"But he will die, if not helped."
"When we have finished, the porters will come for him."
The sufferer stirred, then raised a hand.
"O Hadji--O Prince of India!" he said faintly, in Italian.
The Wanderer bent down to get a nearer view.
"It is the Yellow Air--save me!"
Though hardly articulate, the words were full of light to the listener.
"The virtues of the Pentagram endure," he said, with absoluteself-possession. "The week is not ended, and, lo!--I save him."
Rising to his full stature, he glanced here and there over the throng,as if commanding attention, and proclaimed:
"A mercy of the Most Merciful! It is the Emir El Hajj."
There was a general silence. Every man had seen the martial figure ofthe young chief in his arms and armor, and on horseback; many of themhad spoken to him.
"The Emir El Hajj--dying," passed rapidly from mouth to mouth.
"O Allah!" burst forth in general refrain; after which the ejaculationswere all excerpted from prayers.
"'O Allah! This is the place of him who flies to thee fromfire!--Shadow him, O Allah, in thy shadow!--Give him drink from the cupof thy Prophet!'"
A Bedouin, tall, almost black, and with a tremendous mouth open untilthe red lining was exposed between the white teeth down to the larynx,shouted shrilly the inscription on the marble over the breast of theProphet--"In the name of Allah! Allah have mercy upon him!"--and everyman repeated the words, but not one so much as reached a hand in help.
The Prince waited--still the _Amins_, and prayerful ejaculations. Thenhis wonder ceased. Not a pilgrim but envied the Emir--that he shoulddie so young was a pity--that he should die at the base of thesanctuary, in the crowning act of the Hajj, was a grace of God. Eachfelt Paradise stooping low to receive a martyr, and that its beatitudewas near. They trembled with ecstasy at hearing the gates opening ontheir crystal hinges, and seeing light as from the robe of the Prophetglimmering through them. O happy Emir!
The Jew drew within himself. Compromise with such fanaticism wasimpossible. Then, with crushing distinctness, he saw what had notbefore occurred to him. In the estimation of the Mohammedan world, therole of Arbiter was already filled; that which he thought of being,Mahomet was. Too late, too late! In bitterness of soul he flung hisarms up and shouted:
"The Emir is dying of the plague!"
He would have found satisfaction in seeing the blatant crowd take toits heels, and hie away into the cloisters and the world outside; notone moved!
"By Allah!" he shouted, more vehemently than before. "The Yellow Airhath blown upon the Emir--is blowing upon you--Fly!"
"_Amin! Amin!_--Peace be with thee, O Prince of Martyrs! O Prince ofthe Happy! Peace be with thee, O Lion of Allah! O Lion of the Prophet!"Such the answers returned him.
The general voice became a howl. Surely here was something more thanfanaticism. Then it entered his understanding. What he beheld was Faithexulting above the horrors of disease, above the fear of death--Faithbidding Death welcome! His arms fell down. The crowd, the sanctuary,the hopes he had built on Islam, were no more to him. He signed to histhree attendants, and they advanced and raised the Emir from thepavement.
"To-morrow I will return with thee, and complete my vows;" he said tohis guide. "For the present, lead out of the square to my house."
The exit was effected without opposition.
Next day the Emir, under treatment of the Prince, was strong enough totell his story. The plague had struck him about noon of the dayfollowing the interview in the tent at El Zaribah. Determined todeliver the gifts he had in keeping, and discharge his trust to thesatisfaction of his sovereign, he struggled resolutely with thedisease. After securing the Scherif's receipt he bore up long enough tosuperintend the pitching his camp. Believing death inevitable, he wascarried into his tent, where he issued his final orders and bade hisattendants farewell. In the morning, though weak, half-delirious, hisfaith the strongest surviving impulse, he called for his horse, andbeing lifted into the saddle, rode to the city, resolved to assurehimself of the blessings of Allah by dying in the shadow of thesanctuary.
The Prince, listening to the explanation, was more than ever impressedwith the futility of attempting a compromise with people so devoted totheir religion. There was nothing for him but to make haste toConstantinople, the centre of Christian sentiment and movement. Therehe might meet encouragement and ultimate success.
In the ensuing week, having performed the two pilgrimages, and seen theEmir convalescent, he took the road again, and in good time reachedJedda, where he found his ship waiting to convey him across the Red Seat
o the African coast. The embarkation was without incident, and hedeparted, leaving a reputation odorous for sanctity, with numberlesswitnesses to carry it into every quarter of Islam.