Chapter VIII

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.