MEHER AND MŪSHTERI—CONTINUED.
THE EXILES—THE DESERT—A SHIPWRECK—THE RESCUE—THE CAPTURE.
Mūshteri and his solitary companion passed out of the city by the light
of the morning sun on the day after their release, for except a few
faithful friends there were none who cared whither the victims of the
Shāh’s displeasure might go, as long as they obeyed the royal edict.
The sorrowful exiles rode slowly onward, all unmindful of the beauty of
the morning, which was gilding with glory the crowns of the palm-trees.
They were leaving behind them all that they held most dear, and going
forth into the world with no provision for the future, save the little
sum that the generous Behzād had been able to provide.
Merely to gratify the unreasonable whim of a royal autocrat, they were
thus banished from home and friends, and with hearts full of bitterness
they scarcely cared whither they went.
They had taken the road to Isfahān, but before they reached the city
they saw in the distance an old gray castle which looked as if it had
withstood the storms of centuries, and with half a mind to test the
hospitality of the occupants, they reined their horses toward it. The
castle gates were opened as if some kindly eye had noted their coming,
but a little band of horsemen issued therefrom, and, fearing some
unfriendly act, the travelers turned away. Their caution came too late,
for in a moment more they were attacked and overpowered by the banditti,
and being bound they were carried captive to the castle where they had
hoped for a kindly reception.
Here they were robbed of every article of value upon their persons, and
an order was issued for their execution; but behind the Persian hangings
of the castle hall there were white hands moving nervously amidst the
rich colors of silken embroidery, and a woman’s heart listened
breathlessly to the cruel death sentence.
Then the beautiful wife of the chief went to her room, and sent a
messenger into the council of the banditti with an urgent summons for
the presence of her lord.
“How canst thou be so cruel?” she demanded with flashing eyes, “hast
thou not robbed these illfated youths of every jewel upon their persons—
nay hast thou not even taken the most costly articles from their
wardrobes? Why shouldst thou add to thy guilt the crime of murder?” Half
ashamed of his cruel decree, and wholly afraid of forfeiting the respect
of his wife, the chieftain promised to commute their punishment, and
hastily returning to the castle hall he demanded that the captives be
taken to the desert and abandoned without food amidst its pitiless
sands.
THE DESERT.
And thus it happened that Mūshteri and his faithful Bader found
themselves alone and destitute in a desert where no caravans might pass
for many months—where no palm-tree lifted its plumes in the distance, to
tell of the spring in the oasis beneath its feet. The evening was cool
and restful, even in the desert, and the exiles slept, for their lives
were spared, and though their chance was small, it was surely better
than certain death.
But the sun arose as if in anger, and as it climbed higher and higher
the air became hot as that crimson haze, by which the prostrate caravan
is often buried in the red desert, when the simoon is abroad on its
mission of death. They wandered hopelessly, looking in vain for some
sign of an oasis, until overpowered by the intense heat, Mūshteri, still
weak from recent illness, fell upon the burning sand. Then Bader bent
above him, trying to shield him from the pitiless sun as far as
possible, by the shelter of his own body, and thus they remained until
night came down again with its cooling shadows. They passed day after
day in terrible suffering, until all hope of relief had fled, and they
awaited the coming of death with hope rather than fear.
The faithful Bader was no longer able to shield his master with his own
body, but lay helpless by his side, when the sun again came forth from
the chambers of the east and began to beat upon them with apparently
redoubled fury; but the boy raised his head to search once more the
fiery horizon, and in the distance he seemed to see the figure of a
camel. He wondered if the delirium of death was cheating him with a hope
of deliverance, and he gazed until another seemed to appear behind the
first; then he aroused Mūshteri by telling him of his great hope, and
together they watched what seemed to be the slow coming of a caravan.
After a time a long line of camels could be seen moving patiently and
wearily over the heated sands, but they were not coming directly toward
the exiles, and unless they could change their position considerably,
the caravan must pass them far to the southward. With an effort they
struggled to their feet, and Bader, who was still the stronger,
partially supported Mūshteri, while they slowly and painfully traveled
toward the line of the caravan’s march. They could now see that the
camels were laden, apparently with goods, and it was probably some
merchant’s expedition returning from a long journey.
They tried to call attention by waving their hands, but their efforts
remained unnoticed, and Mūshteri sank once more with exhaustion. Bader
could now see no hope of deliverance, but the master insisted that his
attendant should push onward, leaving him to be rescued when the caravan
had been reached; reluctantly he did so, and Mūshteri anxiously watched
his friend as he slowly approached the line of march, trying with
frantic gesture to attract their attention. Would he succeed, or must
they die within the very sight of aid? At last the foremost camel turned
his head, and courage revived the efforts of the man who was struggling
toward him, while hope lighted the heart of the faint watcher upon the
desert sands; but the camel turned away again and with long swinging
step resumed his way to the southward—nay, he seemed to lengthen and
quicken his pace, while his head pointed straight towards the horizon as
if the wide nostrils were drinking in the welcome smell of water. A
cloud had been gathering in the west, and when it floated over the
blazing sun the soft shades of gray brought relief to the strained eye
and a passing shelter from the fierceness of the heat. It seemed to give
new life to Bader, and he struggled on with renewed hope, passing slowly
over the long reaches of sand which were sometimes smooth as the beaten
beach, and again were heaped together in long ridges like the drifted
snow of a northern clime.
At last a driver turned his head, and fancied that he saw a dark object
upon the pathless tract; he looked again, thinking there were signs of
life, then he called to his companion, and the two drivers gazed until
they were sure it was a man upon the desert waste; a halt was called,
and then the course of the caravan was slightly changed, and the line
bore down toward Bader. He was sure it was coming, and the reaction was
so strong upon his exhausted frame that he fainted before it reached
him, but onward came the great camels careening like ships on the sea of
sand, swinging forward with long elastic tread; noiselessly they came,
keeping the line so exactly that they all seemed to step in the very
tracks of the leader. The exhausted man was taken up and a gurglet of
skin containing water was brought from their stores, when the kindly
leader sponged the face and hands of the exile; a little of the precious
water was forced down his throat and then nature caught eagerly at the
great restorative and he drank of the life-giving fluid.
The owner of the caravan was Mohiār, a Persian merchant, and he quickly
ordered food for the sufferer; out of the strange baskets, closely woven
from the fibers of the palm, they took dates and Syrian pomegranates,
wine in gurglets of skin, and meats which were dried and smoked, but
Bader, being unable to eat or to speak, was placed in a cot suspended by
the side of a camel, and the caravan made ready to depart.
They had traveled a little way before the agonized man was enabled to
tell them that his friend lay dying on the desert sands; then the line
was turned again, and soon Mūshteri heard the tinkling bells fastened to
the brazen chains of the camels; soon he saw their long slender necks
and the scarlet fringe upon the bridle across their foreheads; he saw
them, but in a dazed, indifferent way, as if it mattered little to him
whence they came or whither they went. But in a moment more he was
raised in strong arms, and water, life-giving water, passed over his
face and was poured down his swollen throat. They were soon able to
taste of refreshing fruits, and then the caravan moved on its course,
carrying the exiles upon restful cushions, while above them was
stretched a kindly shade. That night they rested beside a cool spring
and beneath the trees of an oasis; the generous Mohiār ordered a stay of
a few days at the feet of the cooling palms that his own men, and
especially the weakened exiles, might become refreshed. They were then
taken beyond the desert boundaries and generously entertained at the
city of their host.
A SHIPWRECK.
Although in the care of hospitable friends they were still in the
dominions of the Shāh, and liable at any moment to be apprehended and
punished; therefore as soon as they were strong enough their host
provided them with a little money, and with his own horses carried them
down to the shores of the Caspian Sea, where a ship was standing in
port, ready to start on a trading voyage to other lands.
Fearful of losing this opportunity they had traveled all the latter part
of the night, and they stepped upon the deck of the merchant-ship in the
early morning. After they had bidden their friends farewell, Mūshteri
turned thoughtfully toward the soft green waves beyond him and said to
his friend: “Surely here is a welcome change from the desert waste; the
cooling breath of the water has a caressing touch, and the morning light
is strewing the sea with opals.”
“Ah, yes!” replied Bader, “the sea hath no perils like the desert heat,—
better the cooling wave, even though it wraps our dying limbs than the
hot breath of the simoon, and a terrible death amidst the bleaching
bones of perished caravans.”
Soon the order was given to raise the anchor, and with a merry shout the
sailors sprang to their task; the ship drifted outward, slowly at first,
and then as her sails caught the welcome breeze she sped over the waves
like a thing of life.
The exiles felt that they were at last beyond the reach of the
unreasonable monarch, beyond the reach of the Persian banditti, and far
from the torrents of burning sand rolling before the desert winds, and
they looked into each other’s eyes with renewed hope and gratitude. Day
after day passed by in restful calm, but the water itself was an ever-
changing picture to the loving eye of Mūshteri; the early morning found
him always on the deck watching the waves and listening to the changing
voices of the sea.
One night he sat alone at his favorite post, even the faithful Bader had
grown weary and gone to his nightly rest, but Mūshteri was watching the
evening star, that seemed to lie cool and dim in the moving water; the
young moon was swinging high in the heavens, while her faint light
touched the waves with silver and gleamed on the white wings of the
night-birds. But a quick wind caught the sail and a cloud swept over the
face of the moon, the sailors sprang to their posts and orders were
hastily given. A storm was gathering in the eastern sky and soon the
sails were reefed and the good ship was placed in readiness to ride out
as best she could the coming peril.
The Persian youth had no thought now of leaving his post; if the sea had
been beautiful in her peaceful sleep, how much grander was the picture
when the storm-spirit swept her waves into a fury,—when the wind smote
the rigging like the edge of a hissing spear and the breakers dashed
angrily against the hull. As the danger grew more imminent he went below
and aroused Bader, but even while they were coming on the deck he
perceived that the storm was increasing in fury and the gale was driving
the helpless ship before it.
They were at the mercy of the blast, and soon a fearful shock told the
story of the good ship’s doom: she had struck a rocky coast and rapidly
her timbers parted. The two exiles were thrown together into the water,
but after a few minutes of struggling and swimming, Mūshteri caught a
floating beam and at last succeeded in getting himself and Bader to this
position of temporary safety. The storm still raged, but they clung to
this their only hope of life, while the greater part of the passengers
and crew were drowned around them.
At last the tempest had exhausted its fury; the winds moaned over the
angry billows and the sorrowing sea-birds wept; the morning star gleamed
behind the passing clouds, but it looked upon a scene of desolation.
After striking the coast the ship had floated back in fragments, while
here and there a human being clung to a portion of the wreck, but they
were now too far from the shore to be able to reach it, and there was
little hope that they would be seen and rescued. All day they tossed
upon the waves—all day they looked anxiously for aid, but night came
down without hope, and another morning found them still at the mercy of
the waters. A beautiful land covered with stately trees lay like a
mirage in the distance, but no friendly wave carried them to the shore.
THE RESCUE.
The king of Derbend was hunting on the coast, and the wild gor that he
was pursuing ran close to the water’s edge, where he received the fatal
arrow before the king’s suite had overtaken the royal rider. While the
monarch waited the coming of his attendants he rested beneath a tree and
looked out upon the waste of waters; there he saw fragments of the
wreck, and looking more closely he fancied there were human beings
beyond. When his suite came up he ordered a boat to be manned, and soon
the victims of the storm were gathered upon his hospitable shore; they
were chilled, exhausted, and some of them died even there beneath the
friendly hands that strove to bring the life-tide back.
Mūshteri and his friend were among the survivors and they became the
guests of the generous king, who soon learned their story and took them
to his palace home not far from the shore.
Their way lay through the low lands, where the tall bamboos bristled
like spears in the battle ranks, but afterward the road was shaded with
green-plumed dates and bel-trees, gorgeous with their crimson blossoms.
The palace itself was placed in gardens where the blossoms hung in
silvery sprays on the mango-trees, and the many colored fountains played
like broken rainbows in marble basins. Within those royal courts it was
a maze of light and loveliness; music from pipe and lute was borne
through the cool casement, and beautiful dancing girls seemed to float
through the soft measures. In the whirl of these graceful motions one
could see rings and pearls and emeralds shining everywhere, while round
the white necks of the dancers hung necklaces of diamonds that glowed
like fire in the light of many lamps.
Such was the scene that greeted the eyes of the exiles when, after being
provided with food and raiment, they were ushered into the home of their
newly-found friend, and the air of rest and luxury was most grateful to
the exhausted travelers.
Long they tarried as the guests of their royal host, but the heart of
Mūshteri was never at rest; he grieved for his lost friend, and not even
the luxuries of a court could in any way atone for his absence. Grateful
for the kindness of the king, he was still wasting away in very grief
for the companion of his childhood; Bader sought in vain to cheer him,
to divert his thoughts with the luxury everywhere around him, but
Mūshteri was ever haunted by a conviction that somewhere, at sometime,
the happy companionship would be renewed, and he seemed to live only in
this great hope.
Persian traders were sometimes found even in the dominions of the king
of Derbend, and when the news came to the court that the heir of the
Persian throne had deserted his inheritance, Mūshteri determined to
either find his friend or lose his life in the attempt.
No offer of the kindly king could tempt him to remain longer in idle
luxury, and, still accompanied by the faithful Bader, he set out to
cross the great mountain range that seemed to separate him from the rest
of the world. Day after day they toiled over the rugged heights, and
night after night they slept beside the sheltering rock; at last they
had passed the summit, but the descent on the other side was scarcely
less difficult and dangerous.
After a time however, they reached the beautiful valley lying at the
foot of the range, and then it seemed that their toil was abundantly
rewarded, for here were trees laden with fruit, and vines, which were
burdened with clusters of gold and purple. Here were mango-trees and
orange blossoms, while the river that flowed beside them seemed fragrant
with the breath of her newly blown lilies.
Wearied with their long and tiresome journey, they made their simple
couch in the shade of a great tree, and lay down to find refreshing
slumber.
THE CAPTURE.
When the cool and malicious Behrām left the dominions of the Persian
king, not only supplied with money but also in possession of a rich
caravan, he cared very little whether or not he ever found the fugitive
prince; but he determined to find a safe retreat for himself, where he
could enjoy his ill-gotten gains, far from the hope of successful
pursuit by the agents of the Shāh. He therefore pursued his way by a
safe route and easy stages to a distant province.
His caravan encamped for the night a few miles out of the city of
Khārizm; the heavy loads of merchandise were removed from the backs of
the camels, and food was taken from the baskets of palm leaves, but
finding the water of the river near them was somewhat foul, Behrām sent
two slaves nearer to the fountain head of the stream for a supply. They
walked slowly toward the foot of the mountain, where the stream gushed
in a silvery torrent from the rocks, and soon they were in the beautiful
valley of fruits and flowers, where Mūshteri and his faithful attendant
had found repose. They gazed for a few moments upon the lovely scene,
and quickly decided that if their master would consent to remove the
camp, this would be a more desirable locality, as there was not only an
abundance of pure water but also a bountiful supply of fruits. As they
were turning however to go back, after having filled their leathern
gurglets with water, one of them saw two men under a tree apparently
asleep; fearing that they might be in the vicinity of a powerful foe,
they approached cautiously to learn at least the nationality of their
new neighbors. The wearied sleepers remained unconscious of their
careful approach and after a time they came nearer; they had already
discovered the men were Persians, and a closer scrutiny convinced them
that the faces which they looked upon were none other than those of
Mūshteri and Bader.
Hastening back to their master with this information, their message was
received with incredulity, but nevertheless, Behrām made haste to go
into the valley with eight of his strongest slaves, while the others
remained with the camels and merchandise. When he saw that Mūshteri and
Bader were really lying before him, his malignant eyes flashed with
triumphant malice, and quickly giving a whispered order, the young
exiles were partially bound, even before they wakened.
Being aroused by the handling of their captors, they found themselves
utterly helpless in the power of their most dreaded foe, but even in
this condition they scorned to ask for mercy which they knew would be
denied them. Behrām ordered a slave to go back to the old encampment
with the message that the camels and goods should be brought to the
newly chosen ground, and when the campfires were lighted, the camels
fed, and the wants of both master and slaves provided for, the beautiful
valley witnessed a cruel scene.