ith high hopes and the coveted diamond mines beckoning in the far
distance, Ali Hafed began his wanderings. During the first few weeks
his spirits did not flag, nor did his feet grow weary. On, and on, he
tramped until he came to the Mountains of the Moon, beyond the bounds
of Arabia. Weeks stretched into months, and the wanderer often looked
regretfully in the direction of his once happy home. Still no gleam of
waters glinting over white sands greeted his eyes. But on he went, into
Egypt, through Palestine, and other eastern lands, always looking for
the treasure he still hoped to find. At last, after years of fruitless
search, during which he had wandered north and south, east and west,
hope left him. All his money was spent. He was starving and almost
naked, and the diamonds--which had lured him away from all that made
life dear--where were they? Poor Ali Hafed never knew. He died by the
wayside, never dreaming that the wealth for which he had sacrificed
happiness and life might have been his had he remained at home.

"Here is a diamond! here is a diamond! Has Ali Hafed returned?" shouted
an excited voice.

The speaker, no other than our old acquaintance, the Buddhist priest,
was standing in the same room where years before he had told poor Ali
Hafed how the world was made, and where diamonds were to be found.

"No, Ali Hafed has not returned," quietly answered his successor.
"Neither is that which you hold in your hand a diamond; it is but a
pretty black pebble I picked up in my garden."

"I tell you," said the priest, excitedly, "this is a genuine diamond. I
know one when I see it. Tell me how and where you found it?"

"One day," replied the farmer, slowly, "having led my camel into the
garden to drink, I noticed, as he put his nose into the water, a
sparkle of light coming from the white sand at the bottom of the clear
stream. Stooping down, I picked up the black pebble you now hold,
guided to it by that crystal eye in the center from which the light
flashes so brilliantly."

"Why, thou simple one," cried the priest, "this is no common stone, but
a gem of the purest water. Come, show me where thou didst find it."

Together they flew to the spot where the farmer had found the "pebble,"
and, turning over the white sands with eager fingers, they found, to
their great delight, other stones even more valuable and beautiful than
the first. Then they extended their search, and, so the Oriental story
goes, "every s