While Allah swings the moon-lamp overhead.
And Othman, strong-armed, rides, and riding cries,
'Be still, O baby-hearts, be still, and sleep,
For I am here.'
"And 'gainst the friendly folk
Who loved him so there one day chanced to come
A horde of camel-drivers, skurrying
From parched Oasian orchards in the South.
To them sweet water was of more account
Than blood of women. Then from far and wide
The harried residents to Othman drew
For guidance, and he led them never knight
More truly. And the battle done and won,
In league and gratefully, as warriors should,
They flung the clashing of their steel-bossed shields
Into the upper deeps, with rhythmic stops
For outcry. 'Hear, O Allah !'—thus they said—
'The Wilderness hath travailed, and to-day
A Tribe is born to Thee. Thy palm is large,
And hollowed roomfully, and lined with gifts
For all who couch their asking in the form
Of humble prayer.' Thus Kara5 Othman saith; And, as there is no fervid friend like him Of helpless things, who—who shall better speak To us of Thee, or better serve the Tribe, So in its new birth blind? Then live the Sheik— Sheik Othman ! Live the Tribe!'
Othman Renews His Prayer for Malkatoon
"And when the spring,
The second of his love-lorn wandering,
Was pluming all the land, our Othman rose,
And with the chosen of his just-fledged Tribe,
A motley train of wild men, homeward rode,
And coming to the cave where yet the sage
And saintly Dervish dwelt, 'Is it not time,'
He said, full risen from his low salaam,
'That love like mine should have surcease of test?
Behold what it has done!'
"And from his breast
He drew a double string of eagle beaks,
Each amber-hued and set with polished gold,
And clear as honey from the comb thrice pressed
Into a crystal cup.
"'Thou didst require
Of me a bird—dost thou remember it,
Edebali? It was to be a sign
From Allah, so thou saidst. Nor that alone—
Right well I knew thy purpose by the task
To try my faith, and find if well or ill
The Prophet held me. Wherefore be thou judge.
These were the blades with which the Kings of Air
Were wont to rend the hapless feathered tribes,
And keep their blue domain. Upon their thrones
I slew the monsters. Count them if thou wilt,
And take the trophies, trinkets now to please
A maiden fair. Perhaps young Malkatoon
Will wear them; only when thou comest to put
Them in her hand—which in my dreams I kiss,
The many thousand times I dare not say—
I pray thee tell her how the gift was won,
And fairly speak my name. Then if she smile,
And ask of me, and why I dared such deeds,
And what love is—ah, more than well enough!
As singing birds in hush of summer nights,
Calling their mates through green acacia groves,
Have answer in the self-same melody
Of speech, so she will love me for my love.'
The Dervish stayed his hand. 'It was a bird
I asked of thee, my son—a living bird—
A pigeon'—
"'Nay,' said Othman, patiently,
'I have no bird.'
"'Oh, then thou hast the lamb ?'
"'Nor lamb have I. Yet, saintly though thou art,
Be not in haste, as saying, "All the ways
Are Allah's, and I know them." '
"Answering
The sign he made, a servant brought a bale
Of lion skins, and cast it on the floor,
And spread the pelts to view; and they were soft
To eye and touch as rugs of Indian silk,
Yet terrible withal, for each retained
The head with all its armature of teeth,
And bulk of yellow mane, the jaws agape
And snarling.
"'These were royal draperies,
Good Dervish, yielded to me but with life.
And when I took them, it was with the thought
That thou, for whom all things, the quick and still
Alike, have tongues, wouldst kindly hear them tell
Of Allah's love for me, and ask not more
Of sign from Him. And scarce less sweet it was
To think that when their tale was haply told,
They might find favor with young Malkatoon;
And should she hear it said the hand that won
The necklace from the eagles was the hand
That spoiled the lions thus, and all for love,
As carpets on her stony chamber floor,
Or dressing for her couch such days and nights
As chilly blow the mountain winds, they might
Well keep me in her mind, and even nurse
A wish to learn yet more of that which drove
Me to the errantry. And now thy hand?—
And graciously, I pray. A crown were reft
Of half its honor did the giver give
It grudgingly. No ? Oh, I see! It is
Because these witnesses are in their speech
Uncertain. I have better. Wilt thou go
And hear them ?—Only to the door; they wait
Us there.'
"And to the vine-clad door they went,
The old man in the leading of the young;
And looking out, lo! cumbering the road,
In the white noon, and plainly not yet used
To bonds of lawfulness, a medley blent
Of lowing cows, and camels malcontent
And overladen, hungry, wolf-like dogs,
And travel-stained sheep,