The Oriental Story Book: A Collection of Tales

  THE CARAVAN.

  Once upon a time, there marched through the wilderness a largeCaravan. Upon the vast plain, where one sees nothing but sand andheaven, were heard already, in the far distance, the little bells ofthe camels, and the silver-toned ones of the horses; a thick cloud ofdust, which preceded them, announced their approach, and when a galeof wind separated the clouds, glittering weapons and brilliant dressesdazzled the eye. Such was the appearance of the Caravan to a man whowas riding up towards it in an oblique direction. He was mounted on afine Arabian courser, covered with a tiger-skin; silver bells weresuspended from the deep-red stripe work, and on the head of the horsewaved a plume of heron feathers. The rider was of majestic mien, andhis attire corresponded with the splendor of his horse: a whiteturban, richly inwrought with gold, adorned his head, his habit andwide pantaloons were of bright red, and a curved sword with amagnificent handle hung by his side. He had arranged the turban fardown upon his forehead; this, together with the dark eyes whichgleamed forth from under his bushy brows, and the long beard whichhung down under his arched nose, gave him a wild, daring expression.When the horseman had advanced fifty paces farther, the foremost lineof the Caravan was near, and putting spurs to his steed, in thetwinkling of an eye he was at the head of the procession. It was sounusual a thing to see a solitary rider travelling through the desert,that the guard, apprehending an attack, put their lances in rest.

  "What mean you?" exclaimed the horseman, as he saw himself received inso hostile a manner. "Do you imagine that a single man would attackyour Caravan?"

  Ashamed of their precipitation, the guards lowered their lances, andtheir leader rode forth to the stranger, and asked to know hispleasure.

  "Who is the lord of this Caravan?" inquired the cavalier.

  "It belongs to no single lord," answered the interrogated one; "butto several merchants, who march from Mecca to their native country,and whom we escort through the desert; for oftentimes scoundrels ofevery kind alarm those who travel here."

  "Then lead me to the merchants," responded the stranger.

  "That cannot be now," rejoined the other, "for we must proceed withoutdelay, and the merchants are at least a quarter of a mile behind; if,however, you would like to ride along with me until we halt to takeour siesta, I will execute your desire."

  The stranger said nothing further; he drew forth a long pipe which hehad attached to his saddle, and began to smoke with slow puffs, as herode along by the leader of the van. The latter knew not what to makeof the stranger, and ventured not to ask his name in so many words;but when he artfully endeavored to weave up a conversation, thecavalier, to his remarks, "You smoke there a good tobacco," or, "Yourhorse has a brave gait," constantly replied with only a brief "Yes,yes!" At last they arrived at the place where they were to halt forthe siesta: the chief sent his people forward to keep a look-out,while he remained with the stranger to receive the Caravan. First,thirty camels passed by, heavily laden, guided by armed drivers. Afterthese, on fine horses, came the five merchants to whom the Caravanbelonged. They were, for the most part, men of advanced age, of graveand serious aspect; one, however, seemed much younger, as well as moregay and lively than the rest. A large number of camels and pack-horsesclosed the procession.

  Tents were pitched, and the camels and horses fastened around. In themidst was a large pavilion of blue silk, to which the chief of theescort conducted the stranger. When they reached the entrance, theysaw the five merchants seated on gold-embroidered cushions; blackslaves were carrying around to them food and drink. "Whom bringestthou hither to us?" exclaimed the young merchant unto the leader:before, however, the latter could reply, the stranger spoke.

  "I am called Selim Baruch, and am from Bagdad; I was taken captive bya robber-horde on a ride to Mecca, but three days ago managed to freemyself from confinement. The mighty Prophet permitted me to hear, inthe far distance, the little bells of your Caravan, and so I came toyou. Allow me to ride in your company; you will grant your protectionto no unworthy person; and when we reach Bagdad, I will reward yourkindness richly, for I am the nephew of the Grand Vizier."

  The oldest of the merchants took up the discourse: "Selim Baruch,"said he, "welcome to our protection! It affords us joy to be ofassistance to thee. But first of all, sit down, and eat and drink withus."

  Selim Baruch seated himself among the merchants, and ate and drankwith them. After the meal, the slaves removed the table, and broughtlong pipes and Turkish sherbet. The merchants sat for some time insilence, while they puffed out before them the bluish, smoke-clouds,watching how they formed circle after circle, and at last weredissipated in the ambient air. The young merchant finally broke thesilence. "Here sit we for three days," said he, "on horseback, and attable, without doing any thing to while away the time. I feel thistediousness much, for I am accustomed after dinner to see dancers, orto hear singing and music. Know you nothing, my friends, that willpass away the time for us?"

  The four elder merchants smoked away, and seemed to be seriouslyreflecting, but the stranger spoke: "If it be allowed me, I will makea proposition to you. I think one of us, at this resting-place, couldrelate something for the amusement of the rest: this, certainly, wouldserve to pass the time."

  "Selim Baruch, thou hast well spoken," said Achmet, the oldest of themerchants; "let us accept the proposal."

  "I am rejoiced that it pleases you," answered Selim; "and, in orderthat you may see that I desire nothing unreasonable, I will myselfbegin." The five merchants, overjoyed, drew nearer together, andplaced the stranger in their midst. The slaves replenished their cups,filled the pipes of their masters afresh, and brought glowing coalsfor a light. Selim cleared his voice with a hearty draught of sherbet,smoothed back the long beard from his mouth, and said, "Listen then toTHE HISTORY OF CALIPH STORK."