In light of the heightened fear that exists in Western society today relating to the portrayal of the founder of Islam Mohhamad . What with the Death fatwa against Rushdie for the "satanic verses", the Danish cartoons and repeated murder attempts by Muslims against the cartoonist, the proclamation by Muslims that westerners are not allowed to portray Mohhamad on any medium, and consistent efforts by the Muslim block in the U.N the OIC to ban criticism of Islam and make it a crime. It amused me to come across this story by Arthur Conan Doyle in his book "the last of the legions" quite by accident, hope you enjoy it, it is a rather interesting take. If Doyle were alive today he would never dream of writing this living in the U.K, as he would quickly have to go into hiding or end up like Theo Van Gogh


IX

THE RED STAR

The house of Theodosius, the famous eastern
merchant, was in the best part of Constantinople
at the Sea Point which is near the church
of Saint Demetrius. Here he would entertain
in so princely a fashion that even the Emperor
Maurice had been known to come privately
from the neighbouring Bucoleon palace in
order to join in the revelry. On the night in
question, however, which was the fourth of
November in the year of our Lord 630, his
numerous guests had retired early, and there
remained only two intimates, both of them successful
merchants like himself, who sat with
him over their wine on the marble verandah
of his house, whence on the one side they could
see the lights of the shipping in the Sea of
Marmora, and on the other the beacons which
marked out the course of the Bosphorus. Immediately
at their feet lay a narrow strait of
water, with the low, dark loom of the Asiatic[142]
hills beyond. A thin haze hid the heavens, but
away to the south a single great red star
burned sullenly in the darkness.

The night was cool, the light was soothing,
and the three men talked freely, letting their
minds drift back into the earlier days when
they had staked their capital, and often their
lives, on the ventures which had built up their
present fortunes. The host spoke of his long
journeys in North Africa, the land of the
Moors; how he had travelled, keeping the blue
sea ever upon his right, until he had passed the
ruins of Carthage, and so on and ever on until
a great tidal ocean beat upon a yellow strand
before him, while on the right he could see the
high rock across the waves which marked the
Pillars of Hercules. His talk was of dark-skinned
bearded men, of lions, and of monstrous
serpents. Then Demetrius, the Cilician,
an austere man of sixty, told how he also had
built up his mighty wealth. He spoke of a
journey over the Danube and through the
country of the fierce Huns, until he and his
friends had found themselves in the mighty
forest of Germany, on the shores of the great
river which is called the Elbe. His stories[143]
were of huge men, sluggish of mind, but murderous
in their cups, of sudden midnight broils
and nocturnal flights, of villages buried in
dense woods, of bloody heathen sacrifices, and
of the bears and wolves who haunted the forest
paths. So the two elder men capped each
other's stories and awoke each other's memories,
while Manuel Ducas, the young merchant
of gold and ostrich feathers, whose
name was already known all over the Levant,
sat in silence and listened to their talk. At
last, however, they called upon him also for an
anecdote, and leaning his cheek upon his elbow,
with his eyes fixed upon the great red star
which burned in the south, the younger man
began to speak.

"It is the sight of that star which brings a
story into my mind," said he. "I do not know
its name. Old Lascaris the astronomer would
tell me if I asked, but I have no desire to know.
Yet at this time of the year I always look out
for it, and I never fail to see it burning in the
same place. But it seems to me that it is redder
and larger than it was.

"It was some ten years ago that I made an
expedition into Abyssinia, where I traded to[144]
such good effect that I set forth on my return
with more than a hundred camel-loads of skins,
ivory, gold, spices, and other African produce.
I brought them to the sea-coast at Arsinoe, and
carried them up the Arabian Gulf in five of the
small boats of the country. Finally, I landed
near Saba, which is a starting-point for caravans,
and, having assembled my camels and
hired a guard of forty men from the wandering
Arabs, I set forth for Macoraba. From
this point, which is the sacred city of the idolaters
of those parts, one can always join the
large caravans which go north twice a year to
Jerusalem and the sea-coast of Syria.

"Our route was a long and weary one. On
our left hand was the Arabian Gulf, lying like
a pool of molten metal under the glare of day,
but changing to blood-red as the sun sank each
evening behind the distant African coast. On
our right was a monstrous desert which extends,
so far as I know, across the whole of
Arabia and away to the distant kingdom of the
Persians. For many days we saw no sign
of life save our own long, straggling line
of laden camels with their tattered, swarthy
guardians. In these deserts the soft sand[145]
deadens the footfall of the animals, so that
their silent progress day after day through a
scene which never changes, and which is itself
noiseless, becomes at last like a strange dream.
Often as I rode behind my caravan, and gazed
at the grotesque figures which bore my wares
in front of me, I found it hard to believe that
it was indeed reality, and that it was I, I,
Manuel Ducas, who lived near the Theodosian
Gate of Constantinople, and shouted for the
Green at the hippodrome every Sunday afternoon,
who was there in so strange a land and
with such singular comrades.

"Now and then, far out at sea, we caught
sight of the white triangular sails of the boats
which these people use, but as they are all
pirates, we were very glad to be safely upon
shore. Once or twice, too, by the water's edge
we saw dwarfish creatures—one could scarcely
say if they were men or monkeys—who burrow
for homes among the seaweed, drink the
pools of brackish water, and eat what they can
catch. These are the fish-eaters, the Ichthyophagi,
of whom old Herodotus talks—surely
the lowest of all the human race. Our Arabs
shrank from them with horror, for it is well[146]
known that, should you die in the desert, these
little people will settle on you like carrion crows,
and leave not a bone unpicked. They gibbered
and croaked and waved their skinny arms at us
as we passed, knowing well that they could
swim far out to sea if we attempted to pursue
them; for it is said that even the sharks turn
with disgust from their foul bodies.

"We had travelled in this way for ten days,
camping every evening at the vile wells which
offered a small quantity of abominable water.
It was our habit to rise very early and to travel
very late, but to halt during the intolerable
heat of the afternoon, when, for want of trees,
we would crouch in the shadow of a sandhill,
or, if that were wanting, behind our own
camels and merchandise, in order to escape
from the insufferable glare of the sun. On the
seventh day we were near the point where one
leaves the coast in order to strike inland to
Macoraba. We had concluded our midday
halt, and were just starting once more, the sun
still being so hot that we could hardly bear it,
when, looking up, I saw a remarkable sight.
Standing on a hillock to our right there was a
man about forty feet high, holding in his hand[147]
a spear which was the size of the mast of a
large ship. You look surprised, my friends,
and you can therefore imagine my feelings
when I saw such a sight. But my reason soon
told me that the object in front of me was
really a wandering Arab, whose form had
been enormously magnified by the strange distorting
effects which the hot air of the desert
is able to cause.

"However, the actual apparition caused more
alarm to my companions than the imagined one
had to me, for with a howl of dismay they
shrank together into a frightened group, all
pointing and gesticulating as they gazed at the
distant figure. I then observed that the man
was not alone, but that from all the sandhills
a line of turbaned heads was gazing down upon
us. The chief of the escort came running to
me, and informed me of the cause of their terror,
which was that they recognised, by some
peculiarity in their headgear, that these men
belonged to the tribe of the Dilwas, the most
ferocious and unscrupulous of the Bedouin,
who had evidently laid an ambuscade for us at
this point with the intention of seizing our caravan.
When I thought of all my efforts in[148]
Abyssinia, of the length of my journey and of
the dangers and fatigues which I had endured,
I could not bear to think of this total disaster
coming upon me at the last instant and robbing
me not only of my profits, but also of my
original outlay. It was evident, however, that
the robbers were too numerous for us to attempt
to defend ourselves, and that we should
be very fortunate if we escaped with our lives.
Sitting upon a packet, therefore, I commended
my soul to our blessed Saint Helena, while I
watched with despairing eyes the stealthy and
menacing approach of the Arab robbers.

"It may have been our own good fortune, or
it may have been the handsome offering of
beeswax candles—four to the pound—which I
had mentally vowed to the Blessed Helena,
but at that instant I heard a great outcry of
joy from among my own followers. Standing
up on the packet that I might have a better
view, I was overjoyed to see a long caravan—five
hundred camels at least—with a numerous
armed guard, coming along the route from
Macoraba. It is, I need not tell you, the custom
of all caravans to combine their forces
against the robbers of the desert, and with the[149]
aid of these new-comers we had become the
stronger party. The marauders recognised it
at once, for they vanished as if their native
sands had swallowed them. Running up to the
summit of a sandhill, I was just able to catch
a glimpse of a dust-cloud whirling away across
the yellow plain, with the long necks of their
camels, the flutter of their loose garments, and
the gleam of their spears breaking out from the
heart of it. So vanished the marauders.

"Presently I found, however, that I had only
exchanged one danger for another. At first I
had hoped that this new caravan might belong
to some Roman citizen, or at least to some
Syrian Christian, but I found that it was entirely
Arab. The trading Arabs who are
settled in the numerous towns of Arabia are,
of course, very much more peaceable than the
Bedouin of the wilderness, those sons of
Ishmael of whom we read in Holy Writ. But
the Arab blood is covetous and lawless, so that
when I saw several hundred of them formed in
a semi-circle round our camels, looking with
greedy eyes at my boxes of precious metals and
my packets of ostrich feathers, I feared the
worst.[150]

"The leader of the new caravan was a man
of dignified bearing and remarkable appearance.
His age I would judge to be about
forty. He had aquiline features, a noble black
beard, and eyes so luminous, so searching, and
so intense that I cannot remember in all my
wanderings to have seen any which could be
compared with them. To my thanks and salutations
he returned a formal bow, and stood
stroking his beard and looking in silence at the
wealth which had suddenly fallen into his
power. A murmur from his followers showed
the eagerness with which they awaited the
order to fall upon the plunder, and a young ruffian,
who seemed to be on intimate terms with
the leader, came to his elbow and put the desires
of his companions into words.

"'Surely, oh Reverend One,' said he, 'these
people and their treasure have been delivered
into our hands. When we return with it to the
holy place, who of all the Koraish will fail to
see the finger of God which has led us?'

"But the leader shook his head. 'Nay, Ali,
it may not be,' he answered. 'This man is, as I
judge, a citizen of Rome, and we may not treat
him as though he were an idolater.'[151]

"'But he is an unbeliever,' cried the youth,
fingering a great knife which hung in his belt.
'Were I to be the judge, he would lose not only
his merchandise, but his life also, if he did not
accept the faith.'

"The older man smiled and shook his head.
'Nay, Ali; you are too hot-headed,' said he,
'seeing that there are not as yet three hundred
faithful in the world, our hands would indeed
be full if we were to take the lives and property
of all who are not with us. Forget not,
dear lad, that charity and honesty are the very
nose-ring and halter of the true faith.'

"'Among the faithful,' said the ferocious
youth.

"'Nay, towards every one. It is the law of
Allah. And yet'—here his countenance darkened,
and his eyes shone with a most sinister
light—'the day may soon come when the hour
of grace is past, and woe, then, to those who
have not hearkened! Then shall the sword of
Allah be drawn, and it shall not be sheathed
until the harvest is reaped. First it shall strike
the idolaters on the day when my own people
and kinsmen, the unbelieving Koraish, shall
be scattered, and the three hundred and sixty[152]
idols of the Caaba thrust out upon the dung-heaps
of the town. Then shall the Caaba be
the home and temple of one God only who
brooks no rival on earth or in heaven.'

"The man's followers had gathered round
him, their spears in their hands, their ardent
eyes fixed upon his face, and their dark features
convulsed with such fanatic enthusiasm
as showed the hold which he had upon their
love and respect.

"'We shall be patient,' said he; 'but some
time next year, the year after, the day may
come when the great angel Gabriel shall bear
me the message that the time of words has
gone by, and that the hour of the sword has
come. We are few and weak, but if it is His
will, who can stand against us? Are you of
Jewish faith, stranger?' he asked.

"I answered that I was not.



"'The better for you,' he answered, with the
same furious anger in his swarthy face. 'First
shall the idolaters fall, and then the Jews, in
that they have not known those very prophets
whom they had themselves foretold. Then last
will come the turn of the Christians, who follow
indeed a true Prophet, greater than Moses[153]
or Abraham, but who have sinned in that they
have confounded a creature with the Creator.
To each in turn—idolater, Jew, and Christian—the
day of reckoning will come.'

"The ragamuffins behind him all shook their
spears as he spoke. There was no doubt about
their earnestness, but when I looked at their
tattered dresses and simple arms, I could not
help smiling to think of their ambitious threats,
and to picture what their fate would be upon
the day of battle before the battle-axes of our
Imperial Guards, or the spears of the heavy
cavalry of the Armenian Themes. However,
I need not say that I was discreet enough to
keep my thoughts to myself, as I had no desire
to be the first martyr in this fresh attack upon
our blessed faith.

"It was now evening, and it was decided that
the two caravans should camp together—an
arrangement which was the more welcome as
we were by no means sure that we had seen
the last of the marauders. I had invited the
leader of the Arabs to have supper with me,
and after a long exercise of prayer with his followers,
he came to join me, but my attempt at
hospitality was thrown away, for he would[154]
not touch the excellent wine which I had unpacked
for him, nor would he eat any of my
dainties, contenting himself with stale bread,
dried dates, and water. After this meal we sat
alone by the smouldering fire, the magnificent
arch of the heavens above us of that deep, rich
blue with those gleaming, clear-cut stars which
can only be seen in that dry desert air. Our
camp lay before us, and no sound reached our
ears save the dull murmur of the voices of
our companions and the occasional shrill cry of
a jackal among the sandhills around us. Face
to face I sat with this strange man, the glow
of the fire beating upon his eager and imperious
features and reflecting from his passionate
eyes. It was the strangest vigil, and one
which will never pass from my recollection.
I have spoken with many wise and famous
men upon my travels, but never with one who
left the impression of this one.

"And yet much of his talk was unintelligible
to me, though, as you are aware, I speak
Arabian like an Arab. It rose and fell in the
strangest way. Sometimes it was the babble
of a child, sometimes the incoherent raving of
a fanatic, sometimes the lofty dreams of a[155]
prophet and philosopher. There were times
when his stories of demons, of miracles, of
dreams, and of omens, were such as an old
woman might tell to please the children of an
evening. There were others when, as he talked
with shining face of his converse with angels,
of the intentions of the Creator, and the end
of the universe, I felt as if I were in the company
of some one more than mortal, some one
who was indeed the direct messenger of the
Most High.

"There were good reasons why he should
treat me with such confidence. He saw in me a
messenger to Constantinople and to the Roman
Empire. Even as Saint Paul had brought
Christianity to Europe, so he hoped that I
might carry his doctrines to my native city.
Alas! be the doctrines what they may, I fear
that I am not the stuff of which Pauls are
made. Yet he strove with all his heart during
that long Arabian night to bring me over to his
belief. He had with him a holy book, written,
as he said, from the dictation of an angel,
which he carried in tablets of bone in the nose-bag
of a camel. Some chapters of this he read
me; but, though the precepts were usually good,[156]
the language seemed wild and fanciful. There
were times when I could scarce keep my countenance
as I listened to him. He planned out
his future movements, and indeed, as he spoke,
it was hard to remember that he was only the
wandering leader of an Arab caravan, and not
one of the great ones of the earth.

"'When God has given me sufficient power,
which will be within a few years,' said he, 'I
will unite all Arabia under my banner. Then
I will spread my doctrine over Syria and Egypt.
When this has been done, I will turn to Persia,
and give them the choice of the true faith or
the sword. Having taken Persia, it will be
easy then to overrun Asia Minor, and so to
make our way to Constantinople.'

"I bit my lip to keep from laughing. 'And
how long will it be before your victorious
troops have reached the Bosphorus?' I asked.

"'Such things are in the hands of God,
whose servants we are,' said he. 'It may be
that I shall myself have passed away before
these things are accomplished, but before the
days of our children are completed, all that I
have now told you will come to pass. Look at
that star,' he added, pointing to a beautiful[157]
clear planet above our heads. 'That is the symbol
of Christ. See how serene and peaceful it
shines, like His own teaching and the memory
of His life. Now,' he added, turning his outstretched
hand to a dusky red star upon the
horizon—the very one on which we are gazing
now—'that is my star, which tells of wrath,
of war, of a scourge upon sinners. And yet
both are indeed stars, and each does as Allah
may ordain.'

"Well, that was the experience which was
called to my mind by the sight of this star to-night.
Red and angry, it still broods over the
south, even as I saw it that night in the desert.
Somewhere down yonder that man is working
and striving. He may be stabbed by some
brother fanatic or slain in a tribal skirmish.
If so, that is the end. But if he lives, there
was that in his eyes and in his presence which
tells me that Mahomet the son of Abdallah—for
that was his name—will testify in some
noteworthy fashion to the faith that is in him."

[158]