ht else? Take my blessing with you! And
now, here comes your father."

Musa was feebler than upon that first night when he met Yusuf in his
tent, and his hair had become almost white, yet there was the same
dignity in his appearance.

"Go, Kedar," he said, "and prove that you are indeed the son of Musa.
Go, and see that you bring back good news of battle!"

Kedar bent his head in token of assent.

Before an hour had passed he was mounted on the swiftest of his father's
horses--a short, fleshless animal, with legs thin and of steel-like
muscle. But its slender neck, its small, snake-like head, its dilating
nostrils, through which the light shone crimson, and its fiery,
intelligent eye, showed its blood as it pawed the ground and neighed
impatiently. A noble animal and a noble rider they looked as they were
off like an arrow, Kedar's fine figure swaying with the movement of the
steed as though rider and horse were one.

All alone went the youth across hill and valley, over rock and torrent,
fearless and swift as an eagle; for Kedar scorned to seek the protection
of numbers, although quite aware of the fact that a large caravan, under
Abu Sofian, was even then on its way from Syria to Mecca, and was within
three hours' journey from him.

CHAPTER XIII.

ABU SOFIAN'S CARAVAN.

While Kedar was thus speeding towards Medina, the caravan was also
proceeding more slowly towards the south. It consisted of thirty
horsemen and one thousand camels richly laden with grain, with spices,
with purple of Syria, richest cloths of Damascus, and choicest perfumes
of the northern regions.

It was the month Ramadhan, and the peaceful traders went confidently and
securely on their way, well pleased with the success of their journey
and hopeful in anticipation of the large gain they were to make during
the great bazar of the pilgrimage.

While thus proceeding leisurely on, the leaders were somewhat surprised
to see a solitary rider coming towards them in the greatest haste. He
was mounted on a swift dromedary, and with head bent down so that his
turban concealed his face, he kept striking the animal with his short
camel-stick and urging it on with his shrill "Yakh! Yakh!"

All breathless he at last reached the caravan. "Is Abu Sofian here?" he
cried.

"I am Abu Sofian," said the sturdy old chief. "What do you desire of
me?"

"I have been sent by Amzi the benevolent," returned the other. "He bids
me say to Abu Sofian tha