II
THE OLD SHEIK'S PROMISE
The sun was beating fiercely down upon Kanana's perch, but he had notnoticed it. The stones piled beside him for his sling were almost hotenough to burn his hand, but he did not realize it, for he had nottouched them for a long time. The wooden dish of paste and dates stoodin the shadow of the perch. He had not tasted them.
The pile of stones grew hotter and hotter. The hungry birds ate andquarreled and ate with no one to disturb them. The Bedouin boy satcross-legged on his perch, heedless of everything, twisting anduntwisting the leather cords of his sling, struggling to look into themists that covered up his destiny.
"Hi, there! you slothful son of a brave father! Look at the birds aboutyou! Are you dead, or only sleeping?" sounded the distant but shrill andpainfully distinct voice of an old woman who, with two children muchyounger than Kanana, occupied the next perch.
Kanana roused himself and sent the stones flying from his sling tillthere was not a bird in sight. Then he sank into deep thought once more;with his head resting upon his hands he became oblivious to everything.
Suddenly he was roused by the sound of horses' hoofs upon the sandysoil, a sharp rustling in the drying grain. He looked up, as thoroughlystartled as though he had been sleeping, to see approaching him the oneperson than whom he would rather that any or all of the tribe of BeniSad should find him negligent at his post of duty.
It was his father.
"Oh, Kanana! oh, Kanana!" cried the old man, angrily. "Thou son of myold age, why didst thou come into the world to curse me? When thoushakest the cream, the butter is spoiled. When thou tendest the sheep,they are stolen! When thou watchest the grain, it is eaten before thyface! What shall a father do with a son who will neither lift his handamong men nor bear a part with women? And now, when all the miseries oflife have taken hold upon me and the floods cover me, thou sittest atthine ease to mock me!"
Kanana sprang down from his perch. Kneeling, he touched his forehead tothe ground.
"My father, slay me and I will take it as a mercy from thy hand. Or, asI am fit for nothing here, bid me go, and among strangers I will beg.But thou shalt not, my father, speak of me as ungrateful, unfilial. Iknow of no flood of sorrow that has come down upon thee."
"Thou knowest not what they all know?" exclaimed the old man fiercely.
"I know of nothing, my father. Since I came into the field, three weeksago, no one has spoken to me but to chide me."
"Then know now," replied the sheik reproachfully, "that of thy two bravebrothers who went with the last caravan, one has returned, wounded andhelpless, and the other, for an old cause of blood between our tribes,has been made a prisoner by Raschid Airikat. The whole caravan, with thewhite camel at its head, Raschid has taken, and he has turned with ittoward Damascus."
"Thy part of the caravan was very small, my father," said Kanana. "Onlyfour of the camels were thine, and but for the white camel they were allvery old. Their burdens, too, saving my brothers, were only honey andclay-dust, of little value."
This was the simple truth, and evinced at least a very practical side toKanana's mind; but it was not the kind of sympathy which the sheikdesired, and his anger burst out afresh against Kanana.
"Ay, thou tender of flocks, and sleeper!" he cried. "Wouldst thou teachme the value of camels and merchandise to comfort me? And hast thoufixed the price of ransom which Airikat will demand, or slay thybrother? And hast thou reckoned up the value of the white camel whichcould not be bought for gold, as it brought to thy father and thyfather's father all their abundance of good? Answer me, if thou art sowise. Oh, that I had a son remaining who could lift a lance against thisAirikat as bravely as he hurls his empty words at an old father!"
"My father," said Kanana earnestly, "give me a horse, a sack of grain, askin of water, and I will follow after Raschid Airikat. I will not slayhim, but, by the help of Allah, I will bring back to thee thy whitecamel with my brother seated upon his back."
The old sheik made a gesture of derision: "Thou wisp of flax before afire! Thou reed before a whirlwind! Get thee back to thy perch and thybirds, and see if thou canst keep awake till sundown. Harvesting willbegin with the daylight to-morrow. See that thou workest then."
Kanana rose to his feet. Looking calmly into the old sheik's angry face,he replied:
"My father, I will watch the birds till sundown. Then let others do thereaping. Kanana, whom thou scornest, will be far away upon the desert,to seek and find his brother."
"Did I not say I would not trust a horse to thee?" exclaimed the oldman, looking at him in astonishment.
"These feet of mine can do my bidding well enough," replied Kanana. "Andby the beard of the Prophet they shall do it till they have returned tothee thy son and thy white camel. I would do something, oh, my father,that I, too, might have thy blessing and not thy curse. It is the voiceof Allah bids me go. Now say to me that if I bring them back then thouwilt bless me, too, ay, even though still I will not lift a lance,unless it be for Allah and Arabia."
The aged warrior looked down in a sort of scornful pity upon his boy,standing among the stalks of grain; half in jest, half in charity, hemuttered, "Yes, _then_ I will bless thee," and rode away.
The harvesting began, as the old sheik had said, with the next daylight,but Kanana was not among the reapers.
Few so much as missed him, even, and those who did, supposed that he hadhidden himself to avoid their jests.
Only the sullen sheik, bowed under his affliction, thought often ofKanana as he rode up and down the line. He remembered his looks, hiswords. He wondered if he could have been mistaken in the boy. He wishedhe had given him the horse and that he had blessed him before he wentaway.