The Jews, among them Yusuf and Amzi, passed thankfully on.  A tall, gaunt, Bedouin woman, with flashing eyes and hands showing like the claws of a vulture beneath her black robe, came next.  It was Henda in disguise.

“What!” exclaimed the prophet, with a smile, “has Abu Sofian taken to the hills again, that his wife thus comes in Bedouin garb?”

Henda, seeing that her disguise was penetrated, fell at his feet imploring for pardon.

“I forgive you freely,” he said, raising her to her feet.  “You will now acknowledge your prophet?”

“Never!” cried the Koreish woman.

“Boldly said!” returned Mohammed.  “The wife of Abu Sofian doth not readily follow in the path of her master.  He has trained her but poorly.  Yet, go in peace, O daughter of the Koreish, and know that the prophet of Islam has a merciful heart.”

Thus passed the whole long day until the stars shone through the blue; and Mohammed went to rest, serene in his triumph, yet troubled by bodily pain, for, ever since he had eaten the poisoned mutton at Khaibar, his health had been steadily declining.

In a few days he returned to Medina.  A fresh revelation of the Koran, commending fully his doctrine of the sword, was there proclaimed from the mosque; and to Khaled was given the task of subjugating the remaining tribes.

The prophet’s health now began to give way rapidly, and he resolved upon a last pilgrimage to the holy city.  In the month Ramadhan, at the head of one hundred thousand men, the mightiest expedition he had ever led, he started for Mecca.  He rode in a litter, and about him were his nine wives, also seated in litters; while, at the rear of the procession, trudged a great array of camels destined for sacrifice, and gayly decorated with ribbons and flowers.

About a day’s journey from Mecca, at twilight, the vast host met the troops of Ali, returning from an expedition into Yemen, and these immediately turned with the pilgrimage.  It was a weird and impressive scene.  In the night, the augmented host now pressed onward, with increased impatience, over a plain strewn with basaltic drift.  The soft thud of padded feet sounded over the hard ground.  Huge camels loomed shapelessly through the uncertain haze.  No voice of mirth or singing arose from the vast assemblage, but the night-wind sighed through the ribs of the scant-leaved acacias above, and stooped to blow the red flames of the torches back in a smoky glare; while, here and there, a more pretentious light, issuing from between the curtains of a shugduf, shed a passing gleam upon the dusky faces of the pilgrims, plodding like eerie genii of the night over the barren wilds.

Next morning, the host reached Mecca.  The prophet once more entered the sacred court-yard of the temple, and was borne sadly about the Caaba in Tawaf.  Then, weak as he was, he insisted upon taking part in the sacrificial ceremony.  With his own hand he slew sixty-three camels, one for each year of his life.  Then he ascended the pulpit and preached to the people.