In the desert of waiting; the legend of Camel-back mountain

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mm

desert of batting

THE LEGEND OF
CAMEL-BACK MOUNTAIN

THE KEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY

ASTOP. I.
R

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IN

THE DESERT
OF WAITING

THE LEGEND OF
CAMEL-BACK MOUNTAIN

BY

Annie Fellows Johnston

Author of "The Little Colonel Series," " Big
Brother," " Joel: A Boy of Galilee," etc.

Thy alchemist Contentment be "

— Sadi

*

w

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BOSTON

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY

PUBLISHERS

m

8

Copyright, 1904, by L. C. Page & Company
{Incorporated)

Copyright, 1905, by L. C. Page& Company

{Incorporated)

A II rights reserved

Fifth Impression, October, 1907

2£

$

I

W YORK J
jBRARY

THE NEW
PUBLIC L
922I25A

ASTOR, LENOX AND

T1LDEN FOUNDATIONS

R 1937 L

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I

DSVMǤMfe

O ye, who vainly question
Why there must ever lie twixt

man
And the far City of his Desire
Some desert waste of disap-
pointment,
Where he must watch the
Caravan
Pass on and leave him with
his baffled hopes,
Here is the reason,
By the grace of Allah,
Read!

[I]

ONCE upon a time,
a caravan set out
across the desert,
laden with merchandise
for a far distant market.
Some of the camels bore
in their packs wine-skins
that held the richest vin-
tage of the Orient. Some
bore tapestries and some
carried dyestuffs and the
silken fruits of the loom.

In t%t SDtmt oC Waiting;

On Shapur's camel was a
heavy load of salt.

The hope of each mer-
chant was to reach the
City of his Desire before
the Golden Gate should
close. There were other
gates by which they
might enter, but this one,
opening only once a year
to admit the visiting Ra-
jahs from sister cities, af-
forded a rare opportunity
to those fortunate enough
to arrive at the same
time. It was the privi-
lege of any who might
fall in with the royal

[2]

"Ki

jm tf)t ®tmt ot Waiting

retinue, to follow in the
train to the palace of the
ruling Rajah, and thus
gain access to its court-
yards. Wares displayed
there for sale often
brought fabulous sums,
a hundred fold greater,
sometimes, than when
offered in the open
market.

Only to a privileged
few would the Golden
Gate swing open at any
other time. It would turn
on its hinges for a mes-
senger sent at a king's
behest, or to any one bear-

[3]

3n tit 2Degett of flfliaftmg;

ing wares so rare and
precious that only princes
could purchase, but no
common vendor could
hope to pass its shining
portal, save in the rear of
the train that yearly fol-
lowed the Rajahs.

So they urged their
beasts with all diligence.
Foremost in the caravan
and most zealous of all
was Shapur. In his heart
burned the desire to be
the first one to enter the
Golden Gate, and the first
one at the palace with his
wares. But half way

In tfte SDtgert of Ofllattma;

across the desert, as they
paused at an oasis to rest,
a dire lameness fell upon
his camel, and it sank
upon the sand. In vain
he urged it to continue its
journey. The poor beast
could not rise under its
great load.

Sack by sack he les-
sened its burden, throw-
ing it off grudgingly and
with sighs, for he was
minded to lose as little as
possible of his prospec-
tive fortune. But even
rid of the entire load the
camel could not rise, and

[5]

jo&N

3Jn tit SDe^ett ot ^Hatting

So he sat upon the
ground, his head bowed
in his hands. Water there
was for him to drink, and
the fruit of the date palm,
and the cooling shade of
many trees; but he
counted them all as
naught. A fever of un-
rest consumed him. A
baffled ambition bowed
his head in the dust.
When he looked at his
poor camel kneeling in
the sand he cried out,
" Ah, woe is me ! Of all
men I am most miser-
able ! Of all dooms mine

[8]

In tfje SDegtftt of ^Hatting

is most unjust! Why
should I, with life beating
strong in my veins, and
ambition like a burning
simoon in my breast, be
left here helpless on the
sands, where I can achieve
nothing and make no
progress towards the City
of my Desire ? "

One day, as he sat thus
under the palms, a bee
buzzed about him. He
brushed it away, but it
returned so persistently
that he looked up with
languid interest.

" Where there are bees

[9]

In tfje 2Dmtt of ^Hatting

there must be honey," he
said. " If there be any
sweetness in this desert,
better that I should go in
its quest than sit here
bewailing my fate."

Leaving the camel
browsing by the foun-
tain he followed the bee.
For many miles he pur-
sued it, till far in the dis-
tance he beheld the palm
trees of another oasis.
He quickened his steps,
for an odor rare as the
perfumes of Paradise
floated out to meet him.
The bee had led him

[10]

In t&e 2De$m ot Waiting

to the rose gardens
of Omar.

Now Omar was an
alchemist, a sage with
the miraculous power of
transmuting the most
common things of earth
into something precious.
The fame of his skill had
travelled to far countries.
So many pilgrims sought
him to beg his wizard
touch, that the question,
"Where is the house of
Omar?" was heard daily
at the gates of the city.
But for a generation that
question had remained

[ii]

2ln tfje SDegett of Ofliattmg

unanswered. No man
knew the place of the
house of Omar since he
had taken upon himself
the life of a hermit. Some-
where, they knew, in the
solitude of the desert, he
was practising the mys-
teries of his art, and prob-
ing deeper into its secrets,
but no one could point to
the path leading thither.
Only the bees knew,
and, following the bee,
Shapur found himself in
the old alchemist's pres-
ence. Now Shapur was
a youth of gracious mien,

[12]

m

Is

In tfje 2Dt0trt of batting:

and pleasing withal.
With straightforward
speech he told his story,
and Omar, who could
read the minds of men as
readily as unrolled parch-
ments, was touched by
his tale. He bade him
come in and be his guest
until sundown.

So Shapur sat at his
board and shared his
bread, and rose refreshed
by his wine and his wise
words. And at parting,
the old man said with a
keen glance into his eyes:
'Thou thinkest that be-

[13]

3n t&e SDegett ot Mlaitme;

cause I am Omar, with
the power to transmute
all common things into
precious ones, how easily
I could take the remnant
of salt that is still left to
thee in thy sack, and
change it into gold. Then
couldst thou go joyfully
on to the City of thy De-
sire, as soon as thy camel
is able to carry thee, far
richer for thy delay."

Shapur's heart gave a
bound of hope, for that is ggj
truly what he had been
thinking. But at the next
words it sank.

[h]

In tfie 2De0ett ot flfllattmo;

"Nay, Shapur, each
man must be his own
alchemist. Believe me,
for thee the desert holds
a greater opportunity
than kings' houses could
offer. Give me but thy
patient service in this
time of waiting, and I
will share such secrets
with thee that when thou
dost finally win thee to
the Golden Gate, it shall
be with wares that shall
gain for thee a royal en-
trance."

Then Shapur went
back to his camel, and in

[15]

In tit tomtt of dfliattmff

cause I am Omar, with
the power to transmute
all common things into
precious ones, how easily
I could take the remnant
of salt that is still left to
thee in thy sack, and
change it into gold. Then
couldst thou go joyfully
on to the City of thy De-
sire, as soon as thy camel
is able to carry thee, far
richer for thy delay."

Shapur's heart gave a
bound of hope, for that is g||
truly what he had been §||
thinking. But at the next
words it sank.

3Jn tfie 2De0ert ot flfilaittng;

"Nay, Shapur, each
man must be his own
alchemist. Believe me,
for thee the desert holds
a greater opportunity
than kings' houses could
offer. Give me but thy
patient service in this
time of waiting, and I
will share such secrets
with thee that when thou
dost finally win thee to
the Golden Gate, it shall
be with wares that shall
gain for thee a royal en-
trance."

Then Shapur went
back to his camel, and in

*WJ<

[15]

fe*o$l

m

SgXso

In tSe SDegert of Miatttng

the cool of the evening
urged it to its feet, and
led it slowly across the
sands; and because it
could bear no burdens
he lifted the remaining
sack of salt to his own
back and carried it on
his shoulders all the way.
When the moon shone
white and full in the
zenith he reached the
rose gardens of Omar.
He knocked on the gate,
calling, "Here am I,
Omar, at thy bidding,
and here is the remnant
of my salt. All that I

5

[16]

3n tfjt Desert of flatting

have left I bring to thee,
and stand ready now, to
yield my patient service."
Then Omar bade him
lead his camel to the
fountain, and leave him
to browse upon the herb-
age around it. Pointing
to a row of great stone
jars he said, " There is thy
work. Every morning,
before the sunrise, they
must be filled with rose-
petals plucked from the
myriad roses of the gar-
den, and the petals cov-
ered with water from the
fountain."

%mm

[i7l

In t&e %>tmt of ^Hatting

"A task for poets,"
thought Shapur, as he
began. "What more de-
lightful than to stand in
the moonlighted garden
and pluck the velvet
leaves?"

But after awhile the
thorns tore his hands
and the rustle and hiss
underfoot betrayed the
presence of serpents, and
sleep weighed heavily
upon his eyelids. It grew
monotonous standing
hour after hour, stripping
the rose-leaves from the
calyxes, until thousands

[18]

3n tSe ZDWit ot Waiting;

and thousands and thou-
sands had been dropped
into the great jars. The
very sweetness of the
task began to cloy his
senses.

When the stars had
faded and the East was
beginning to brighten, old
Omar came out. "'Tis
well,', he said, viewing
his work. "Now break
thy fast and then to
slumber, to prepare for
another sleepless night."

So long months went
by, till it seemed to Sha-
pur that the garden must

[19]

In tfjt SDegn* ot OClattmg

surely become exhausted.
But for every rose he
plucked another bloomed
in its stead, and night
after night he filled the
jars. Still he was learn-
ing no secrets, and as the
deadly monotony of his
task began to eat into
his soul he grew restless
and began to ask himself
questions. "Was he not
wasting his life? Would
it not have been better
to have waited by the
other fountain until some
caravan passed by that
would have carried him

%mm&

[20]

In tit 2D£0ert of Plaiting;

out of the desert solitude
to the dwellings of men?
What opportunity was
the desert offering him
greater than kings'
houses could give?"

And ever the thorns
tore him more sorely,
and the lonely silence of
the night weighed upon
him. Many a time he
would have left his task
had not the shadowy
form of his camel, kneel-
ing outside by the foun-
tain, seemed to whisper
to him through the star-
light, " Patience, Shapur!
Patience!"

fcs

9

i
m

[21]

In tfie 2Dmtt of dfllaiting

Once, far in the dis-
tance, he saw the black
outline of a merchant car-
avan, passing along the
horizon, where day was
beginning to break. He
did no work until it had
passed from sight. Gaz-
ing after it, with a fierce
longing to follow, he pic-
tured the scenes it was
moving towards -—the
gilded minarets of the
mosques, the deep-toned
ringing of bells, the cheer-
ful hum of the populace,
and all the life and stir
of the market-place.

[22]

In tfie SDtmt of Waiting

When the shadowy pro-
cession had passed the
great silence of the desert
smote him like a pain.
Again looking out he saw
his faithful camel, and
again it seemed to whis-
per, "Patience, Shapur,
Patience! So thou, too,
shall fare forth some day
to the City of thy De-
sire !"

One day in the waning
of summer Omar called
him into a room in which
he had never been before.
"Now, at last," said he,
"thou hast proved thy-

[23]

3n t&e $)t$ttt ot maitim

self worthy to be the
sharer of my secrets.
Come! I will show thee.
Thus are the roses dis-
tilled, and thus is gath-
ered up the precious oil
floating on the tops of
the vessels. Seest thou
this tiny vial? It weighs
but the weight of one
rupee, but it took the
sweetness of two hun-
dred thousand roses to
make the attar it con-
tains, and so costly is it
that only princes may
purchase. It is worth
more than thy entire load

3fn tSe 2Dt0trt ot WLaitixiQ

of salt that was washed
away at the fountain. "

Shapur worked dili-
gently at this new task,
until there came a day
when Omar said to him,
"Well done, Shapur! Be-
hold the gift of the desert,
its reward for thy patient
service in its solitude ! "

He placed in Shapur's
hands a crystal vase,
sealed with a seal, and
filled with the precious
attar.

"Wherever thou goest
this sweetness will open
for thee a way and win

[25]"

SfcJSKS

In tfie aDegert of Ofliattms

for thee a welcome.
Thou earnest into the
desert a common vendor
of salt, thou shalt go forth
an Apostle of my Al-
chemy. Wherever thou
seest a heart bowed down
in some Desert of Wait-
ing, thou shalt whisper
to it, 'Patience! Here if
thou wilt, in these arid
sands, thou mayst find
thy garden of Omar, and
even from the daily tasks
that prick thee sorest,
distil some precious at-
tar to sweeten all life.'
So like the bee that led

[26]

In tfje Desert ot batting;

thee to my teaching, thou $C
shalt lead others to
hope."

Then Shapur went forth
with the crystal vase, and
the camel, healed in its
long time of waiting, bore
him swiftly across the
sands to the City of his
Desire. The Golden Gate,
that would not have
opened to the vendor of
salt, swung wide for the
Apostle of Omar. Princes
brought their pearls to
exchange for drops of his
attar, and everywhere he
went its sweetness opened

T271

3n tit ®mzt ot Waiting:

for him a way and won
for him a welcome.

Wherever he saw a
heart bowed down in
some Desert of Waiting
he whispered Omar's
words and tarried to teach
Omar's alchemy, that
from the commonest ex-
periences of life may be
distilled its greatest bless-
ings. At his death, in
order that men might not
forget, he willed that his
tomb should be made at
a certain place where all
caravans passed. There
at the crossing of the

[28]

In tfie 2Dt$zzt of Waiting;

highways he caused to
be cut in stone that sym-
bol of patience, the camel,
kneeling on the sand.
And it bore this inscrip-
tion, which no one could
fail to see as he toiled
past toward the City of
his Desire:

"Patience! Here, if
thou wilt, on these arid
sands, thou mayst find
thy Garden of Omar, and
even from the daily tasks
which prick thee sorest
distil some precious attar
to bless thee and thy
fellow man."

In t&e SDegett ot Plaiting

A thousand moons
waxed and waned above
it, then a thousand more,
and there arose a genera-
tion with restless hearts,
who set their faces ever
Westward, following the
sun towards a greater
City of Desire. Strange
seas they crossed. New
coasts they came upon.
Some were satisfied with
the fair valleys that Up
tempted them to tarry,
and built them homes
where the fruitful hills
whispered stay.

But always the sons of

[3°]

Jn t&e 2Dej*ett of Plaiting

Shapur pushed ahead, to
pitch their tents a day's
march nearer the City of
their Desire, nearer the
Golden Gate which
opened every sunset to
let the royal Rajah of
the Day pass through.
Like a mirage that daily
vision lured them on,
showing them a dream
gate of Opportunity, al-
ways just ahead, yet ever
out of reach.

As in the days of Sha-
pur, so it was in the days
of his sons. There were
some who fell by the way,

[3i]

3n tfie 2De$ert ot flatting;

and, losing all that made
life dear, cried out as the
caravans passed on with-
out them, that Allah had
eg| forgotten them ; and they
cursed the day that they
were born, and laid hope-
less heads in the dust.

But Allah, the Merciful,
who from the beginning
knew what Desert of
Waiting must lie between
every son of Shapur and
the City of his Desire, had
long before stretched out
his hand over one of the
mountains of his conti-
nent. With earthquake

3n tjje 2De0ert of Gfliattmg

shock it sank before him.
With countless hammer
strokes of hail and rain-
drops, and with gleaming
rills he chiselled it, till as
the centuries rolled by it
took the semblance of
that symbol of patience,
a camel, kneeling there
at the passing of the ways.
And now, to every heart
bowed down and hope-
less, it whispers the lesson
that Shapur learned in his
weary Desert of Waiting :
" Patience! Thou earn-
est into the desert a ven-
dor of salt; thou mayst

In tSe 2>mtt ot Maitim

go forth an alchemist,
distilling from life's tasks
and sorrows such pre-
cious attar in thy soul,
that its sweetness shall
win for thee a welcome
wherever thou goest, and
a royal entrance into the
City of thy Desire !"

THE END

[34]

[35]

AND this, O Son of Sha-
-£""*- pur, is the secret of
Omar's alchemy : To gather
something from every one
thou passest on the highway,
and from every experience
fate sends thee, as Omar
gathered from the heart of
every rose, and out of the
wide knowledge thus gained
of human weaknesses and hu-
man needs, to distil in thine

own heart the precious oil of

i
Sympathy. That is the attar

"K

3n tfie SDegett ot flfllattmg

that shall win for thee a wel-
come wherever thou goest
And no man fills his crystal
vase with it until he has first
been pricked by the world's
disappointments, and bowed
by its tasks.

Thou vendor of salt, who,
as yet, canst follow only in the
train of others, is not any
waiting well worth the while,
if, in the end, it shall give
thee wares with which to
gain a royal entrance ?

>!&S

[36]

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