Where is the land of smiles and light,
Where darkness ne’er one shadow throws,
Where, from each beam of skies so bright,
The spirit of its Maker flows?
This land is not of earth!
Where is the clime where joy with woe
Disdains to hold alternate sway;
Where tears of sorrow never flow,
Nor fairest flowers of hope decay?
This clime is far from earth!
Where the whole heavens with radiance glow,
Nor e’er their smiles in dewdrops steep,
That tears may never _seem_ to flow,
And figure what it is to weep?
Oh! ’tis not found on earth!
Where every soul will inly find
A bliss that’s felt but there alone,
Where every tie is closely twined
Around the Great Eternal One?
Oh! this is surely heaven!
MOSULNA.
The remains of Gulbeg, which had been carefully covered with herbs
during eight days, in order to preserve them from decomposition until
the usual period of mourning had elapsed, were placed, at the dawn of
the ninth day, on a bier of green boughs, covered with a new mantle,
which no person had ever worn before. A retired green spot, among the
adjacent hills, having been previously fixed upon by Kazim for the
performance of the funeral obsequies, the procession moved forward,
chanting a solemn lament, without the accompaniment of any musical
instruments. Kazim and Mangeli walked, hand in hand, immediately
behind the bier, their heads covered by their mantles. The prince,
with Suleiman and Seirami, were next in order; and then followed
the chieftains and elders of the tribe, a person bearing a lighted
torch, and a long line of matrons, young men and maidens. Two voices,
usually selected on such occasions for their peculiar sweetness, sung,
alternately, portions of a canticle, which was responded to by the
multitude in notes, that were echoed by the hills, as the train wound
along their declivities.
The bearers having reached a considerable eminence, laid down the bier
upon it, when Kazim and Mangeli taking up a little earth, sprinkled it
over the body, which they were now permitted to behold for the last
time. Several chanters, in the meanwhile, seated themselves near
it, and addressed it in a wild and impassioned manner. One of them
enumerated the years and the virtues of the departed, describing the
pastoral and innocent life which he had led, and pointing him out as an
example to the young men of the tribe. A second, taking Mangeli by the
hand, wiped away the tears which coursed each other down her grief-worn
cheek, and endeavoured to soothe her anguish, by depicting the happy
region to which the spirit of her father had fled; while a third
renewed the song of woe, which was answered as before, by the crowd now
gathered in a circle round the bier. When this ceremony was concluded,
Kazim cut from the old man’s temples the locks of silvery hair by which
they were covered, and gave them to Mangeli, who, after bathing them in
her tears, deposited them in her bosom.
The bier having been once more raised, the procession again moved
forward until they arrived at the recess, where a funeral pile had been
already prepared. The body, still wrapped in the mantle, was placed
upon the pile, the feet to the east, and the face turned downwards.
Other logs of wood having been then added to the pile, it was ignited
by Kazim. The wood rapidly blazed up in the midst of a howl, which
burst suddenly from the multitude who collected around it, and which
was kept up with unceasing energy, until the whole heap became a mass
of embers. From the ashes were then collected the few relics of the
deceased, which could be distinguished from the remains of the wood;
and being wrapped in a new Persian shawl, they were given to Kazim.
The spot where the pile had been raised was then dug up, and the ashes
having been buried beneath the earth, the surface was covered over with
green turfs, bearing clusters of wild flowers, which still outlived the
rigour of the season. A cypress-tree was finally planted at the head of
the grave, to inform the wanderer, who might pass that way, that he was
treading on sacred ground.
As soon as the funeral ceremonies were over, Kazim and Mangeli returned
to their hut, where they remained secluded during the remainder of
the day. They were followed by the females and elders of the tribe,
who went down the hill in groups; while the young men, dispersing
themselves among the higher ranges of the mountains, entertained
themselves with a variety of pastimes. With these Suleiman remained,
as much from disposition to partake in their games, as to render
himself popular among those whom he hoped he might soon lead to battle.
Some had brought their bows and quivers, and ranged among the copses in
pursuit of game. Others, who had armed themselves with clubs, engaged
in a war-dance to the sound of a pipe and tabor; and, as they changed
places in the figures, they kept time to the music with their clubs,
which they struck sometimes on the ground, sometimes against those held
up by their antagonists.
Suleiman was much amused by the feats of a tumbler, who, in another
quarter, gathered a circle to witness his evolutions. The performer
exhibited wonderful agility. He rolled himself up, as it were, in a
mass, exhibiting to the spectator an apparently lifeless trunk, and
permitted himself to fall down the side of an eminence, interspersed
with knolls, which sent him bounding like a ball, from one side to
another, until he reached the bottom of the hill, amidst general shouts
of laughter. But, in the next moment, he was seen as if nothing had
happened, turning himself round like a wheel, or walking on his hands,
or leaping backward on his feet, with all the agility of an antelope.
In a different quarter a group was engaged in wrestling, while others
were displaying their speed in the foot-race, or in heaving a ponderous
stone, or in discharging arrows at a mark, from bows which it required
almost the strength of a giant to bend.
The attention of the stragglers was at noon called to the hunters on
the higher range of the mountain, who shouted with all their might to
their companions below, to be on their guard. Before the signal was
perfectly understood, a tiger rushed by them with an arrow fixed in
his side, towards a jungle which lay at some distance in the valley.
The hunters pursued the animal until they were out of breath, and then
seeing the direction which he took, they determined on surrounding
him, with the assistance of their friends, in order to destroy an
enemy so dangerous to the encampment. The incident seemed to give new
life to the whole party, and especially to Suleiman, who had been well
accustomed to this kind of chase.
Proceeding in small divisions to the heights which commanded the
jungle, they extended their ranks as widely as possible, until they
established the outline of a circle. Then descending at a given signal
in a measured pace, they closed up their ranks more and more, until
they were within bow-shot of the borders of the jungle, when the
javelin-men held their weapons ready for the cast, and the bowmen
fixing their arrows on the notch, stood prepared to discharge them the
moment the tiger came within sight. Those who had clubs, held them
lifted in the air for the same purpose, while the rest armed themselves
with stones or branches of trees. They then set up a tremendous clamour
simultaneously, which they repeated several times without effect.
Suleiman, who had obtained possession of a heavy mace, penetrated the
jungle, and after exploring it as far as he could, reported that there
was no chance of compelling the beast to abandon his lair, unless they
set fire to the tangled brushwood. A fire was produced in a moment, by
rubbing together with great force and rapidity, two pieces of a club,
which was broken for the purpose, and in a few minutes after the whole
jungle was in a blaze. The cloud that rose from the smoking trees,
spread in the atmosphere, where it hung like a canopy, darkening all
the valley, except that portion of it occupied by the hunters, which
was illuminated by the conflagration. Not being able, however, to see
each other distinctly, on account of the volumes of smoke that issued
from the burning wood, they were obliged to keep up a communication,
by calling to each other every moment. Suleiman saw, with the joy of
the warrior, the courage exhibited by these young men, as the flames,
bursting forth here and there, displayed their countenances eager for
the combat, and showed the figures of the bowmen kneeling with their
arrows ready to fly, while javelins, and clubs, and ponderous stones,
were prepared to assist in the common cause.
A rustle in the jungle, then a rush of sparks into the air, shewed, at
length, the path taken in his rage by the tiger. The perpetual shouts
deterred him from quitting the jungle, until the fire approached the
spot where he was couched; he was almost suffocated by the smoke, when
he sprung boldly through the blaze, which scorched him to the bone.
Seeing by the light the fierce line of enemies drawn up against him,
he attempted to return to his former shelter; but a shower of stones,
hurled into the fire, raised such a mass of flame, that he again
galloped back, and stood at the edge of the vast furnace, apparently
bewildered.
Arrow after arrow, javelin after javelin, glanced by the beast, while
he ran up and down to find some means of escape, lashing his back
with his tail, his open mouth covered with foam, his roar resounding
high above the shouts of the hunters. As if blinded by the smoke, he
advanced unconsciously towards the circle; whence he was driven again
back to the jungle by stones and clubs, which fell upon him from all
sides. Still undismayed, he dashed forward once more, resolved to defy
their hostility, when a barbed arrow, directed by Suleiman, entered his
throat, and, by the pain it gave, augmented his fury a hundred-fold.
The circle closed rapidly nearer and nearer to the centre, the fire
still raging, and sending upwards huge volumes of smoke. The brave
animal, collecting all his remaining strength for a final effort,
couched on the earth, his eyes lightening with an unnatural redness,
that was quite terrific. He waited until Suleiman had another arrow
on the notch, when, springing towards him with an enormous bound, he
threw the chieftain prostrate. A hundred clubs instantly descended
on the head and flanks of the infuriated creature, from whose grasp
Suleiman was extricated with some difficulty. A stream of blood, that
bathed the earth all round, at length proclaimed the contest at an end.
The tiger was immediately stripped of his hide, which was presented to
Suleiman, in token of the pre-eminent share he had in the victory; and
the carcase was left as the lawful prey of some vultures, already seen
hovering on the heights above, and flapping their dark wings with joy
over the feast thus provided for their hunger.
The young men, who had assembled together on this occasion, appeared
to be as much transported with the frenzy of victory, as if they had
conquered a host of foes in the field of battle. Inviting Suleiman to
march at their head, they formed into regular array, and moved forward
on their return to the encampment, singing a war-hymn, which they
interrupted frequently by loud cries of exultation or vengeance, as
suggested by the alternations in the song.
As they were ascending the sides of the hill, which overlooked the
jungle, their attention was attracted by several horsemen, who appeared
to be crossing the ridges of the distant hills in various quarters,
but all proceeding towards the same point. When they came near, they
were joyfully recognised as the emissaries who had been dispatched by
Suleiman to the neighbouring chieftains, for assistance in the war
against Mirtas. They seemed to be the bearers of no welcome tidings,
for disappointment was strongly marked on their countenances as they
successively delivered to the chieftain the letters with which they
were respectively charged, in answer to his applications.
“Pshaw!” exclaimed the indignant warrior, glancing over the epistles,
which he threw one by one on the ground; “they have all heard of my
defeat in that unfortunate battle. Here is one who excuses himself,
on the ground that he had disbanded his troops, and that he could not
collect them again before the spring. Another wants arms, and asks
me to send him some to defend his own territory from the formidable
Mirtas. A third enters into an argument to show, that before I could
hope to attack the town of Karaman, I must have at least five thousand
men, and that he had only fifty at his command. A fourth is engaged in
repressing the robbers in his neighbourhood, who have lately carried
away all the cattle belonging to his people. While a fifth is nearly
dead of ague, and unable to stir from home! Thus I have always found
it--in prosperity I never wanted friends in abundance--men eagerly
pressing upon me their services, when I wanted them not; but now, when
they would be truly valuable, I am left alone in the desert! Alone! did
I say? No, no, my comrades; with you I would conquer or die. What say
you?”
“Lead us where and when you will,” they unanimously replied.
“To-night?”
“To-night,” they replied.
“To-night then be it--we shall be the masters of Karaman, before the
sun shall shine again upon its domes, or we shall be with Gulbeg.”
Hastening, as fast as their manly limbs could bear them, to the
encampment, the young men lost no time in proclaiming their
determination to the prince, who, though he might have had the desire,
possessed no power to repress their impetuosity. Collecting their
horses from the pastures, they proceeded to trim the animals with
much care, and to examine their fitness for action, by galloping them
over the plain with their full accoutrements on. The camp was full of
excitement on the occasion; and though the elders and matrons did not
much approve of the abrupt manner in which the expedition had been
resolved upon, nevertheless, they could not help feeling proud of their
tribe, when they saw about three hundred young men, of sinewy frames,
and the most gallant bearing, flying about in every direction, full of
ardour in the cause to which they were pledged, their steeds prancing
in the air, and animated by the sound of the war-trumpet, which had not
for some time summoned them from the flowery fields to the tumult of
action.
Seirami, upon hearing of Suleiman’s sudden determination, felt that it
would be in vain for him to offer any remonstrance against it. This
was one of those occasions on which his master would listen to no
admonitions, and he did not offer them. Lending himself with the best
grace he could, to proceedings adopted without his advice, he prepared
to join the expedition, which, it was arranged, should leave the camp
at sun-set.