The new life in the old home of his fathers was a happy one to Yusuf, and he grew up slim and straight and tall, browned by suns and rains, and loving the life beneath the skies with the sheep and horses. But when he was twelve years old, his father told him that he was to go away to school. The great prince Saladin had come to rule as Sultan in Damascus and was building mosques and schools there, where Yusuf could safely go to study to become a wise man. For according to his early vow, Ayûb intended Yusuf for a scholar, and he meant that some day he should belong to the court of Saladin, who, though a soldier, loved learning and the arts. So Yusuf, the boy of the mountains and open spaces, went to Damascus to live in the medressa, the School of the Mosque. With many other boys he lived and ate and studied and made his five prayers daily, all under one roof. He studied the Koran, and he learned the beautiful writing of his people, and he began the study of grammar, arithmetic and geography, and of the sciences, especially botany and astronomy, for his people were wise and skilled in many kinds of learning.

For four years Yusuf worked hard and steadily, and after the first he was a good pupil. At first he had been terribly homesick for the mountains and his horse. But as he had been brave when his body was in danger, so now he was brave in conquering the miseries of his mind. He made himself control his homesickness, and learned to live the new life. For it was his father's will.

The Kaaba lies in a vast court, into which the pilgrims are making their way to walk about the Kaaba seven times. (From Robinson and Breasted, \"History of Europe, Ancient and Medieval\")

He did so well that when he was sixteen his father came to him with his reward. It was in the month of Dhu'l Hijja, the pilgrimage month, when the great caravan was setting out from Damascus for Medina and Mecca. Every good Moslem, as Yusuf knew, tried once in his life to go to the Prophet's birthplace and to take part in the ceremonies of the pilgrimage, for it meant that then he would be washed clean of his sins. For a boy of sixteen to go was rare good fortune, and Yusuf was aglow with excitement. There was not only the religious reward, but all the adventures by the way. For the routes everywhere were full of people: Bedouins from the desert with their camels, soldiers on horseback, priests on asses, beggars on foot, and all were dressed as was Yusuf too, in the strange pilgrim dress of two pieces of white cotton cloth wrapped about the body, and all were bare of head and bare of feet. Once more Yusuf was on horseback, and so he delighted in the long journey.

Yet he was glad when they reached Mecca, and he saw the great mosque of the Prophet and the old, old Kaaba, the temple built, as some said, by Abraham or Ishmael, which has in it the Black Stone that fell direct to earth from heaven and so is very holy. On the first day he performed the rites at the Kaaba with the others. Seven times he went round and round it saying his prayers, "O Allah, make it an acceptable pilgrimage," "O Allah, verily I take refuge with thee," and when this was done he went to the Black Stone, touched it with his palms and kissed it. Then at evening he fed the mosque pigeons. The rites went on for many days. There was the journey to Arafat, the Holy Hill, where he listened for three hours to a sermon, and the day after at the village of Mina there was the stoning of the "Great Devil." The Great Devil was a large stone pillar at which all pilgrims threw stones. This was quite to Yusuf's mind: he took seven stones, nicely washed and, saying a prayer as he did it, he pelted the devil well. He did not stop until he had thrown seventy stones in all and so had thoroughly conquered the Evil One. His father made a sacrifice of a sheep, and at last, with all the rites performed, their clothes changed and their heads shaved, they were ready to start homeward with the others of their caravan.

They had been gone a long time from Damascus and had heard little of the rest of the world, but not far from Medina they met another caravan which gave them important news. The Franks, they said, had attacked a caravan of the Saracens, murdered the men, and stolen the goods. Ayûb and the other men felt for their swords or daggers. That meant an end to the truce which Saladin had made with the Christians: it meant war again. Ayûb blazed with anger; the desert sun was not hotter than he in his wrath. "Dogs! Swine! So a cur keeps faith!" he cried. "No place is safe from them. Thou shalt not return to Damascus, Yusuf. I will not risk thee so near them. I will go, but thou! The cursèd dogs! Would I had ten thousand swords in my one right hand!"

But Yusuf was no longer a child. He begged his father to let him go to the camp of Saladin to join the army. But his father was as unmoved as his own mountains.

"No, go thou home with Ali by the desert route. It is long, but safe. Thinkest thou I have forgotten what Ibrahim and Al-Kindi said to me on the night when thou wast born?"

"But it was only one false Christian who broke up the caravan. The men themselves have said so," Yusuf pleaded.

"All are the same, all false. I go to Damascus to arrange our affairs, but thou,—by another sunrise thou shalt be on thy way with Ali."

Yusuf had to obey, and though he started off with ten men as escort, his father's face was haggard with fear as he murmured over and over, "Allah preserve thee!" But any fear of the Franks soon fell from Yusuf's mind in the dreadful heat and thirst of the desert and the sand storms that came and choked him. Though they timed their day's marches so that they would reach a spring by nightfall, they suffered much, and one day it was long past dark when, fainting and blistered and parched, they finally reached the low hills and some water. The water and the cool night revived them, but it was with thankfulness for an escape from death that Yusuf made his sunrise prayer to Allah.

Then he heard two of his companions talking. They, in scouting about, had found just over the hill, not a bow-shot away, a band of Christians stretched out all but dead with thirst. "Far gone they were," said one of the men. "Though they were twenty and we only two, I had no fear."

"But why?" Yusuf came up to them, "why were they thirsty, with this spring so near?"

"Ah, they know not the country, nor have they intelligence enough to lead them to the places of water."

"But you told them!" exclaimed Yusuf, with a sharp memory of his own thirst and suffering.

"Told them!" the men looked at him and laughed. "Are we then babes in arms? Or who are we to oppose the will of Allah and give life to his enemies?"

"Oh, but to die of thirst! Surely the prophet would not wish even his enemies to die so cruelly."

The men laughed and walked away. "How they die, it matters not." But Yusuf was murmuring to himself, "Cowards. It is a coward's way. And did not Renaud save my life?"

So when they broke camp and started off he, with an excuse about a broken saddlebag, lingered behind, and as soon as the men were out of sight he dashed down to the place where he knew the Christians must be. He found them lying on the sand, weak and fainting, surrounded by their lifeless horses, and two were already dead. They paid no attention to his coming, except one boy who sat up and looked at him. To him Yusuf beckoned and pointed up the hill, making a gesture as if drinking. The boy crept to his side, his eyes questioning whether Yusuf were a ghost, a savior or a fiend. But Yusuf caught him up and put him on his horse and led him to the spring. He held the water to his lips, and the young Frank sipped slowly. Then, as the color came back to his face, he drank eagerly and stretched himself as if he were coming to life again. Yusuf filled his own gourd and some flasks which he had taken from the Christians, and with the water they revived the drooping men and afterwards the horses. Then Yusuf went to his own horse to mount and be off, while the boy followed him, eagerly trying to say his thanks with his large blue eyes, since they could not speak each other's language. But suddenly a rough hand seized Yusuf's bridle. The leader of the group towered above him. "Hold! Thou shalt not go!" he said, then in his own tongue to the young Frank, "Hold him! He shall be a hostage, else when his fellows return once more to find him, as they surely will, we are all dead men."

"Guy, what villainy is this!" the boy cried. "He has saved our lives."

"And what good is that if we lose them straight away again? We cannot rest here. He shall go with us and guide us, for we know not the way."

Others came up and with the boy argued hotly against Guy, as Yusuf knew, though he could not understand the words. But it was no use. What Guy said prevailed, and as soon as camp could be broken the band was off.

"To Jerusalem!" Guy said to Yusuf in his own language. "Guide us safely, or thou art as good as dead already."

It was useless for Yusuf to explain that he did not himself know the way; and he trusted to his own and his horse's instinct to lead them somehow until they could ask the road. It was a long and hard journey, but for Yusuf it was cheered by a new friend. For Arnaud, as the young Frank was called, was always beside him, and long before they made up a language in which they could speak to each other he had shown him his own loyalty and his disgust at Guy's treachery.

When at last they came to the walls of Jerusalem, the Christians found that they were none too soon. Saladin was close at hand with a great army ready to besiege the city. Yusuf was hurried in with his captors and, once in, they did not dare to let him go. For the garrison was reduced and the city in distress, and they feared that he would give information to their enemies. So he was kept in the city and was there when his own prince, the generous Saladin, sent in word: "I know that Jerusalem is a holy place. I do not wish to profane it. Abandon your ramparts, and I shall give you. . . as much land as you can cultivate." But the Christians were determined. They refused his good offer and resisted his siege. Food became short, and there was much suffering.

But Yusuf's suffering was not from lack of food. It was from longing, as he looked out through the loopholes in the towers and saw the camp of Saladin. He could see his people behind their intrenchments by day, the tents in rows like streets and the open squares where they held markets, and at night he could see their camp fires and imagine how they were sitting together in rings listening to stories of adventure or the poems and songs of their people told to the sound of a flute, until at last the setting of the stars sent them to bed. Arnaud understood his unhappiness and was constantly with him. One day as they stood on the ramparts together he said, "I would that thou couldst turn Christian, but I see it: thy heart is ever yonder with thy people. Daily I am begging the queen to let thee go, for I cannot bear it that we are guilty of such treachery."

"If all the Franks were like thee," said Yusuf, "then—but it would break my father's heart." And he told Arnaud of his father's bitterness and of the wise men's prophecy. But he himself was not frightened, he said, for he had once proved the goodness of a Frank; and he told Arnaud the story of Renaud and the leopard. Arnaud was much excited. "Thou—thou art that lad. But Renaud was my father, my dear father, long since dead, and I have often heard him tell the tale. God must have sent thee to me. Once more I will beg Queen Sybilla herself for thy release. My father would wish it."

Arnaud was granted his request, but on one condition: that Yusuf give his promise not to tell a word about the state of Jerusalem, and if he broke his promise, Arnaud's own life was to be forfeit. Yusuf promised, and Arnaud led him at night to the city gate and gave him the password.—"God wills it." The two boys threw their arms about each other's neck, and Yusuf went out—his word, the word of an infidel, the only guarantee that the enemy would not learn the wasted condition of the city. He was seized at once by sentries of the Saracen camp, who mistrusted him for a spy and, in Saladin's absence, brought him to one of the chiefs. When Yusuf had told his story, he and his counselors shook their heads. "How can we believe thee a true man and no spy," they said, "unless thou tell us the state of the enemy?"

"But I have promised not to," said Yusuf, "and my friend is surety for me."

This title-page from an Arabic Koran, the Bible of the Mohammedans, is beautiful in color as well as in design. (Photograph furnished by the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston)

"Art thou a follower of the Prophet?" the men demanded. "Then the only wickedness is to withhold the truth and aid the enemy."

Still Yusuf refused. "I gave my word," he said.

"As thou wilt," the chief answered, "for it is thy life, the life of a spy, or the truth about Jerusalem."

His father was out of reach, and could not help him, and so Yusuf demanded the right of appeal to Saladin.

At the very moment Saladin himself rode into their midst, and Yusuf fell on his face before him and told him his story.

"He pretends to be a follower of the Prophet, yet is false to his own people," said the chief. "If he has this news, bid him give it to us and save our men."

But Yusuf lifted his eyes to Saladin and spoke only to him. "Then would I be false to my trust, since I have given my word."

A pleasant smile passed over the great Saladin's face. "I believe thee," he said. "Never have I seen a spy with a face like thine. And thou hast well done. Who holds his honor dearer than his life is indeed beloved of Allah." Then he turned to his generals and counselors. "By bravery, not by breaking faith, will we conquer this city." And to Yusuf he said, "Remain here with me till the city falls. It will be soon."

It was but a few days later that the city surrendered. Saladin, who had every reason to deal hardly with the Christians, treated them kindly and, instead of making them captives, allowed them four days in which to secure a ransom for every man, woman and child—ten dinars (or about thirty dollars) for every soldier, five for a woman, and one for a child. Yusuf sent to his father for money to ransom Arnaud, but Ayûb, overcome with a panic of fear, refused and ordered his son to come at once to Damascus. But Yusuf would not; he was determined to wait for the day of ransom. It came, and those whose ransoms were paid filed out of the city, taking their possessions with them, for such was Saladin's generosity. But many were unransomed. Then Saladin, the noble and chivalrous prince, himself paid the ransom for ten thousand of his enemies. He sent for Yusuf and with a smile gave him his orders. "Go, see to it thyself that thy young friend who trusted thee is among the ransomed."

So the boys met again and were happy, though it was a moment of parting. "Farewell, then," Arnaud spoke at last. "Do thou go back to thy father and tell him how by kindness thou hast overcome fate itself and hast made a friend out of thine enemies. And I,—I will return to my father's home, to France. The Holy Sepulcher is gone, and all the holy places are in the hands of the unbelievers. I have no heart to stay longer. But thanks to thee," and he put his hands on Yusuf's shoulders, "I will carry away one precious memory, the memory of a friend and of how one Saracen kept faith."

So the boys parted, Arnaud to his world and Yusuf to his. And Yusuf, since Saladin joined his father in advising it, went back to his studies in the medressa and fitted himself to become one of the learned men whom Saladin delighted to have at his court.