and round and try to make you give in to one temptation after another.
It’s not at all amusing for us because we have to go through it so
often. You’re the only one who gets any fun out of it because it’s all
new to you. Only if you give in to a single temptation, that’s the
end. You have to go all the way back to the first night when the camel
drivers tied you out in the desert, and once you’re out there bound up
again you die of fright.”
The old camel gave such a terrific yawn at this that his servants must
have thought they were being called, for at the sound of it two sleek
white camels with brocaded bands around their shoulders came in through
the door of the tent and kneeled before their leader.
“Very well,” he said, closing his fan. “Let’s get going.”
Immediately the two servants rose and slipped their bands under the two
ends of the old camel’s divan and lifted him, cushions and all, and
bore him out of the tent into the light of the softly dawning day.
“I hate getting up so early,” said the old white camel as he adjusted
the cushions behind his head with one lifted arm. The youngest camel
trotted along beside him and respectfully nodded his head. “Why don’t
you speak frankly to me?” the old camel asked him dreamily. “You were
thinking I wasn’t at all up, weren’t you? You felt like saying that I
was really more down, I’m sure.”
“Yes,” admitted the little camel. “I was thinking that.”
As soon as he had said this, he saw that a beautiful pure-white camel
had suddenly appeared behind them and was following close behind the
litter on which the drowsy leader stretched at his ease. His hoofs,
too, were of finest gold and he wore a halter of spun gold. When the
old camel saw the youngest camel staring with admiration at the new
arrival, he said:--
“That’s Fourteen Carat. He’s the first always to join the caravan
and that means you’ve passed safely through one temptation.” They
were moving out from under the green trees now onto the desert sands.
“Of course, you were tempted to lie when I asked you what you were
thinking.”
“Just for politeness’ sake,” said the youngest camel, contritely.
“Well, most camels do lie when I ask them that, so as not to hurt my
feelings,” the old white leader said. “And then it’s the end of them.
They simply vanish into thin air, like a puff of smoke. Every time you
resist a temptation,” he went on, trying hard not to yawn, “you’ll
notice that another camel joins our caravan.”
[Illustration]
_VI_
So, hour after hour as they traveled across the desert, the ordeal of
temptation went on.
After the temptation to tell a lie for politeness’ sake came the
temptation to rest by reclining on the beautiful litter which camels
brought and set down before him.
“You might as well take it easy the way I’m doing,” said the old white
camel. “My servants are quite used to carrying people, and if you rest
now you won’t be nearly so tired at the end of the day. We have a long,
long journey before us and--”
“Oh, no, thank you!” said the youngest camel. “I’m quite used to
walking by this time.”
And no sooner were the words out of his mouth than he saw a second
white camel spring up behind Fourteen Carat and join the caravan. Then
came the temptation to crunch the bones which were served on platters
within an inch of his nose; and then the temptation to drink from the
copper basins which they carried to him filled with sparkling water
and lemonade, but all this he resisted. Then the white leader reached
indolently up from his litter as they jogged along, and drew down the
weather and showed the little camel that it was actually a fan with two
sides to it. One side was good weather and the other was bad, and he
strongly advised the little camel to accept it as a gift.
“No,” said the little camel. “Thank you very much, but I think I’d
better not.”
“You’re very silly if you don’t,” said the old white leader, opening
the fan to show him how nice it was. “Think how useful it would be to
your mother. You could take it to her as a present this evening, and
from then on she could always have exactly the kind of weather she
wanted.”
The little camel considered seriously for a moment, and the desire to
take it grew stronger and stronger as the white leader went on talking
to him in a slow, dreamy voice.
“Your mother would never be too cold or too hot ever again,” he was
saying to him. “She wouldn’t have to get drenched by storms any more or
covered with snow on the steppes during the bad season. I can’t imagine
why you hesitate like this.”
But at last the little camel made a great effort and he set his fuzzy
chin firmly and replied:--
“No, thank you, I don’t think I will after all. But thank you just the
same.”
And as soon as he had said this, another snow-white camel sprang up in
the caravan.
Next came the temptation to flee before a great wall of fire which
rose suddenly before them, but this too he resisted, and as he passed
through it with his eyes tightly closed he did not even feel its heat;
and then the temptation to cry out with fright and swoon at the sight
of three dead llamas stretched out on the lonely sands; and then the
temptation to sob aloud when the old camel spoke for a long time to
him about his mother, and how hard she had worked all her life, and
how tired she was of carrying the burdens of men. But all these he
resisted, and each time he did so he saw to his joy that another
beautiful white camel joined the growing caravan.
Then came the temptation of the sun, which the white leader plucked
lazily out of the sky and smashed in pieces like a ripe melon on a
salver which camel servants held before him.
“You see it’s a pineapple with its skin taken off,” the old camel
remarked dreamily, as if it were of no importance at all. “It has a
wonderful flavor--not like real fruit, of course, because it comes from
heaven.”
“It looks awfully good,” said the youngest camel, and he felt his mouth
watering.
“Well, there’s no earthly reason why you shouldn’t have a piece. I’m
going to,” said the old white camel, and he indolently chose the
biggest, juiciest bit and put it in his mouth. The little camel stood
watching him enviously as he chewed, and licked his own parched lips
thirstily.
“I don’t think I’d better,” he said. “My mother told me it wasn’t true
about the sun being a pineapple, so perhaps there’s something queer
about it.”
“Oh, mothers have so much on their minds that they can’t remember any
more what things are real and what aren’t,” said the old camel while
the juices dribbled down his chin. “If you just take a piece you’ll see
it’s true enough. It’s very refreshing and much better than anything
you’ve ever tasted before. It’s rather like ice cream, only a great
deal nicer.”
He selected another ripe, golden piece and conveyed it lazily to his
lips, and the little camel turned his head away.
“I don’t think my mother would want me to,” he said, and immediately
another white camel joined the procession which was beginning to reach
almost out of sight across the sands.
Then came the temptation to run like a coward from a flock of vultures
which swarmed about him, the blood still bright on their beaks; and
then the temptation to gather up some of the fine false teeth which
appeared like shells by the dunes, and put them in his pocket for his
mother; and then the temptation to take the way through the grassy,
fertile valley under the shade of trees, as the old leader advised
him to do, instead of stumbling across the barren badlands. All these
and many more temptations he resisted, and now the caravan of white,
golden-hoofed camels stretched far beyond the horizon.
As they went slowly on, he caught sight of a group of young camels like
himself who were romping and playing together on the edge of an oasis
not far away. He could hear their happy shouts of laughter, and his
sad, weary heart was suddenly made glad.
“Oh, look!” he cried out, and the old white camel seemed to start from
sleep at the sound of his voice.
“Eh, what?” he mumbled, leaning up on his cushions and rapidly blinking
his eyes. “What did you say?”
“Look at those other children over there!” the youngest camel cried out
in excitement. “Do you see them? They seem to be having such a good
time!”
“Oh, well, run along and join them for a bit,” said the old white
camel, lolling back on his cushions and stifling a yawn. “We can’t stop
long, but we’ll excuse you for a few minutes while you get acquainted.”
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” cried the little camel, and with a skip and
a jump he was off towards the green oasis where the other young camels
were playing leapfrog in the shade. He felt like a brand-new, happy,
well-fed little camel just from seeing such happiness and such carefree
antics after all the experiences he had been through.
So as fast as his legs would go he trotted towards them over the sand,
thinking of nothing but how wonderful it would be to play with children
like himself again. But suddenly the wind began to rise, and its
wailing filled his ears. And now he saw a white cloud coming swiftly
across the sky. In another instant, the sand dervishes sprang up in
spirals before him, and whirled and spun wildly in his path.
“Go back, go back!” whispered one as the wind flung her against him.
“Turn around, turn around before it’s too late!” murmured another, and
the little camel stopped short in surprise.
“Go back to the caravan!” another breathed in a hushed voice in his
ear as she threw her sandy arms around his neck. “This is one of the
temptations! Run back to the white leader as quickly as you can!”
The youngest camel’s knees went weak beneath him as he realized
the terrible thing he had almost done, and now he turned and began
tottering back to the caravan. No sooner had he taken the first step
than the wind’s voice died away and the sand dervishes sank down
motionless about him on the desert. In another moment he was back
beside the litter on which the old white camel lay.
“Well, you changed your mind in time,” said the leader with a yawn.
“Yes, I did,” said the little camel in a trembling voice, and although
he could not see it, another snow-white camel took its place at the end
of the caravan miles and miles away.
“Time’s getting on,” said the old white leader as the litter began to
move forward again. “Nearly all our companions are with us now. After
another few temptations, the circle around the earth will be complete
and then you will join your mother. But, of course, the hardest things
have been saved up till the end.”
Next came the temptations of salt and tobacco, and the little camel
looked at them with longing eyes. For a moment he could not make up
his mind what to do, because his mother had always told him since his
earliest days that salt and tobacco were so rare and so tasty that
never, under any conditions, must he dream of refusing them. She said
they were part of the daily fare of rajahs and pashas and kings, and if
a poor camel ever had the luck to get near them, he should snatch them
up as quickly as he could.
“This is just a little pick-me-up to give you the strength to keep on
going until evening,” said the white leader casually, and he held the
nice assortment out under the youngest camel’s sensitively quivering
nose. “They’re something like Turkish delight, only ever so much
better. Anyway, they’re not a real meal in any sense of the word, and
it can’t possibly do any harm if you try a little. Just lick a bit of
the salt to see.”
But the little camel set his chin firmly and shook his head.
“Thank you very much, but I think I’d rather not,” he said, and
instantly another white camel with golden hoofs joined the end of the
caravan almost twenty thousand miles away.
Temptation after temptation followed this, and the little camel bravely
resisted them all. There was the temptation to pick up his harp when
he saw it lying before him on the sand, and the temptation to send a
message to his mother by a bird of paradise who flew down close to him
and said he knew just where she was and that he could take it to her
without any trouble. And then, just as the sun was sinking beyond the
desert’s horizon and the little camel believed he had really come to
the end of his strength at last, he saw something so marvelous just
ahead that he thought he must be dreaming. Yes, it was. No, it couldn’t
possibly be. But still it _was_. Yes, surely, it was. The more he
looked the more convinced he became, and suddenly he jumped straight up
into the air with joy.
“My mother! I can see my mother over there!” he cried out, and the old
white camel lifted himself lazily on one elbow on his cushions to see.
“Well, I must say it rather looks like her,” he said, stifling a
yawn. “I wonder what she’s doing wandering about like that alone?” He
sank back on his litter again and picked up his peacock-feather fan.
“Perhaps she’s strayed from her caravan and is wandering around in
despair.”
“Perhaps she’s looking for me!” cried the little camel in great
excitement, but the white leader only yawned again. She was jogging
along just ahead of them with her moth-eaten tail hanging down behind,
and the youngest camel cried out: “It must be my mother! I know it’s my
mother!”
“No one ever said it wasn’t,” said the old camel, and this time it
really sounded as if he were falling asleep. “But you can’t possibly
be sure at this distance whether it’s your mother or just a striking
likeness--”
“But I couldn’t mistake my own mother, could I?” asked the youngest
camel, almost tearfully. “I know the way her elbows look from the back,
and the way her hump humps--”
“Well, there’s only one way of finding out for certain,” said the white
leader, with his heavy head nodding drowsily. “You’d better skip along
and catch her up.”
“Oh, would you excuse me for a minute while I do?” asked the little
camel, so excited that he could scarcely wait.
“Run along,” said the old white camel. “Anything’s better than having
you hemming and hawing like this, but please don’t loiter on the way.”
The old leader gave a terrific yawn at this and stretched himself out
as if for a long sweet sleep, and without waiting another minute the
youngest camel started off in a gallop across the hot stretches of
sand. Faster and faster he went, stumbling over his own feet, gasping
and choking for breath, and still he seemed to come no nearer to her.
“Mother!” he cried out. “Mother! Wait, I’m coming.”
At the sound of his voice, she turned her head over her shoulder and
looked back at him and smiled.
But just as it seemed he must reach her side at last, a sudden burst of
bright-feathered little birds descended between them and set about his
eyes and ears like a swarm of bees. They were all chattering wildly,
and try as he would he could no longer see to pass them.
“Oh, let me go! Please let me go,” he pleaded, but his words were
drowned out by the whistling and scolding of the scores and scores of
birds.
Now that he had stopped, they settled at once on his head and on his
hump, while others flew furiously before his eyes. If he turned in
desperation to the right or to the left, they pursued him, chattering,
while still others swung like tiny sharp-clawed monkeys on his tail.
He spun around, but they were everywhere, increasing in numbers and in
fury with every instant that passed. Finally one single brilliant bird
poised herself before him on the air and spoke these words:--
“Listen to us once again. You have lost a great deal of your conceit
since we last met, and you have almost entirely ceased to lie.
Moreover, you have learned to be polite to everyone you meet.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” trilled all the birds in chorus.
“You are much braver now, as well,” the single bird’s voice went on,
“and much humbler than you ever were before.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” cried all the shrill little voices again.
“So now, go back,” warbled the bird as she dipped and winged before him
on the air. “Go back, go back before the white leader wakes up and
sees.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” cried all the little birds at once, and suddenly the
youngest camel’s knees began to shake under him as he asked himself if
it was true that this was just one more temptation which had been put
to him.
“But--but--but I’m sure--I’m sure--I’m sure I saw my mother,” he
protested, and as he said this all the birds rose up from his back and
from his head and from his tail with a great rush of tiny wings.
“Look, four-footed child!” sang the single bird’s voice to him. “Look
ahead and look well at her. She’s nothing. She’s just a reflection on
the mists of evening. Can’t you see she’s a mirage like the oasis you
followed?”
“Yes, a mirage, a mirage, a mirage!” trilled the hundreds of birds
around him.
The youngest camel looked very hard at the figure of his mother jogging
along ahead, and now it seemed to him indeed that there was something
rather hazy and misty about her such as he had never noticed before.
He turned in his tracks, with just enough breath left to call out
his thanks to the birds, and then he made his way back to the caravan
as quickly as he could. His knees were still quaking under him when
he reached the litter’s side, and from there he saw the flock of tiny
bright birds disappear like a sunset cloud into the sky.
“So here you are after all!” exclaimed the old white camel as he woke
up with a start. “So you came around to my way of thinking in the end?”
“Yes, I did,” said the little camel, so tired by this time that he
could hardly stand. And as soon as these words had passed his lips, the
last pure-white camel with golden hoofs joined the caravan and the sun
set with a jerk and a thousand torches suddenly sprang alight the whole
length of the magic caravan. He could see the endless line of camels
girdling the earth with the torches carried flaming on their heads and
their gold hoofs shining wondrously across the sand.
“It’s rather effective, isn’t it?” said the old white leader, looking
rather pleased at the whole display. There were four tall torches lit
about him now, two at his head and two at his feet, and the diamonds in
his ornaments glittered in their light. “This is the part I like the
best of the whole business because it’s so near the end,” he said.
The old white camel put his peacock-feather fan aside and fumbled in
his cushions for a moment, and then he drew forth the most beautiful
necklace the youngest camel had ever seen. All the beads of it were
of different colors and they were strung together on a solid-silver
string. There was the bright red one, and the clear green one, and
the moonstone, and the diamond, and looking closer he could make out
the tiny lettering which was carved in the center of each one. The
little camel could scarcely believe his eyes, and he stepped closer to
the litter and peered into the brilliance of the torches’ and jewels’
light. And now he saw that the jade bead had written inside it: “I am
the green valley you long for. You may live in me forever.” And the
topaz had written within it: “I am a silk tent to protect you from
sandstorms and from winter and from the midday sun.” And the ruby came
next, and then the ivory bead, and the amethyst, and the sapphire, and
all the others, exactly like the story he had told his mother.
“These are magic beads,” the old camel said, holding them up to the
light. “They’re the most valuable possession anyone can possibly have,
because they’re practically impossible. You see, if they belong to you,
then you can always have everything you want.”
“Oh, yes, I know, I know!” cried the little camel, clapping his hands
together.
“How could you know about them?” asked the white leader, just managing
to swallow his yawn. “I’m the only person in the world who knows about
them.”
“Have you ever tried them? Do they work?” asked the youngest camel
eagerly, and the old white camel answered:--
“Of course they do.”
“Well, then, excuse me,” said the little camel, “but why don’t you live
in a green valley forever the way the jade bead says you can do?”
“Because I prefer to travel on a litter,” said the white leader. “It’s
much more restful and I see more of the world this way, too. There’s
nothing I dread so much as being bored, and I know I’d be awfully bored
lying in a valley without any change of scenery.”
“Yes, of course,” said the youngest camel, doubtfully, and after a
moment he said: “If you’ll excuse me again, I hope you won’t think
I’m rude, but I should like to know why you don’t press the sapphire
against your forehead for an instant and have all your years drop from
you?”
“You mean turn myself young again?” asked the big white camel in
amazement. “Do you really imagine I’d like to start way back at the
beginning again and do all the silly things I did over, and not have
people in every country of the world paying me homage, and not be the
leader of the caravan of white camels any more?” He sank back in his
pillows again and gave a weary sigh. “I never heard anything quite so
silly in all my life,” he murmured, lifting one hand to hide his gaping
mouth. “I can’t imagine anything more stupid.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” said the youngest camel, and he stood
looking with longing eyes at the necklace he had never dreamed could
really be. “But then I should think if you have no more use for the
necklace you wouldn’t mind giving it away, or at least lending it to
people sometimes?”
“Naturally, as long as I have everything I want, I haven’t the
slightest use for it,” said the old white camel. “But so many people
wanting it makes it very valuable indeed. That’s why it’s kept till
the very end like this. Now that you’ve resisted all the temptations,
you’re allowed to have a choice.”
He held the necklace up towards the flaming torchlight again, and the
little camel clasped his hands together.
“Do you mean to say--do you mean I can choose--” he stammered.
“Now don’t get excited,” said the old leader, with a yawn. “This is the
final test, remember. You are allowed to choose between this string of
magic beads and--” he made a gesture towards a great bulging sack which
servants had just placed on the sand beside his litter--“and this bag,”
he said. “I do hope you’re not going to make a mistake at the last
minute,” he added dreamily.
“What’s in the bag?” asked the little camel in a cautious voice, and
the old leader answered:--
“Ashes. Nothing but ashes.”
“But I can’t see there’s any choice at all!” the little camel cried
out. “Of course, I’ll take the--”
“Now, don’t be in too much of a hurry to make up your mind,” said the
old white camel. “Remember greed never got anybody anywhere at all.
Don’t forget that things are never what they seem, and appearances
are frequently deceiving. Keep in mind that there are always a lot of
wolves in sheep’s clothing about, even right here on the desert. If
you’ll take my advice, you’ll consider long and carefully before you--”
The youngest camel stood reflecting deeply while the old white leader
went on: “I’m sure your dear mother must have told you all about fair
faces hiding false hearts, and I’m absolutely certain you don’t want to
act like a greedy little pig just when everything seems to be turning
out so nicely for you.”
“No,” said the little camel gravely, “but I want the necklace. I don’t
want the sack of ashes. I want the necklace more than anything else in
the world.”
“Of course,” said the old camel, and in spite of the fact that he was
very much interested in the conversation, his lids kept slipping down
over his eyes. “Naturally, we all want what isn’t good for us. But that
doesn’t mean you’re going to be a silly, piggish little camel and--”
“Please,” said the youngest camel in a small but firm voice. “I choose
the necklace. That’s what I want.”
“Well, I must say that’s very unkind of you,” said the old white
leader, and he tossed it around the little camel’s neck with rather
a nasty jerk. “No one’s ever chosen the necklace before and so I was
always able to keep it. Everyone’s _always_ chosen the bag of ashes
because it was the politest and nicest thing to do.”
The youngest camel now fell down on his knees and thanked the ancient
leader for all the kindness he had shown him, and as soon as he had
paid him enough homage to restore him to a good humor, he turned the
necklace around and around his neck until he came to the bead which was
shaped like a heart and red as a cherry and he read the inscription
inside:--
Oh, heart, on music let me ride
This instant to my mother’s side.
But first he slipped the magic opal under his tongue, so that by the
time he reached his mother and was clasped in her arms, all the lies he
had ever told her had been transformed to truth.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.