A shout of assent arose. The thoroughly excited multitude swayed and surged like the waves of the sea. Hundreds hurried off to do the behest of their leader, and, returning, hastened to perform Tawaf about the Caaba before setting out on their perilous journey.
Yusuf, as a Christian, dared not enter the temple; but he heard the news from without. His heart was moved with compassion for the poor, defenceless traders, caught like mice in a trap, and he decided to fall into the ranks of the rescue party, intending, if his life were spared, to pay a visit to Amzi, at Medina.
While the recruits were gathering, Henda, the wife of Abu Sofian, rushed up, her face wild and haggard with terror, her long black hair streaming on the wind, her eyes flashing with excitement, and her lips drawn back, exposing her yellow, fang-like teeth. A tigress she looked in her fury, and it was with difficulty that Abu Jahl prevented her from going with the expedition, which, in the cooler shades of evening, started off at a rapid pace, leaving her to nurse her vengeance until a later day.
Hurried, yet long and tedious, was the journey, and the anxiety and impatience of the volunteers made it seem almost interminable.
At length news was brought of the safety of the caravan, and of its deviation towards the sea. But the blood of the Meccans was up, and the fiery old leader was determined to punish Mohammed for his misconduct, and thus, perhaps, prevent him from committing similar atrocities in the future. Accordingly he sent part of his troops for protection to the caravan, and commanded the rest, about nine hundred in number, to push on; and among those ordered forward to the field was Yusuf.
Mohammed, with three hundred and thirteen soldiers, mounted chiefly on camels, received word of this advance. His men were lying between Medina and the sea, and, as he thought, directly between the caravan and Abu Jahl's army. He told his men to be of good cheer, as Allah had promised them an easy victory; yet he was careful to omit no human means of securing an advantage. He posted his troops beside the brook Bedr, and had them hastily throw up an entrenchment to cover the flank of his troops. Then, sure of a constant supply of water, and safe from fear of surprise, he awaited the Meccan army.
He himself ascended a little eminence, accompanied only by Abu Beker, and, in a small hut made of branches, he prayed for the assistance of three thousand angels. In his excitement, one of his old paroxysms came on, but this was regarded as auspicious by his men, to whom, superstitious as they were, every occurrence of this kind was an additional presage of victory and an additional spur to bravery in battle.
And now the opposing force appeared, coming down the opposite hill, the men hot, weary, and covered with dust.
After a preliminary skirmish between individual combatants, the battle began,—not a systematic charge in close ranks, not the disciplined attack of trained warriors, but a wild mêlée of camels, horses, flashing scimitars, gleaming daggers and plunging spears, in the midst of clouds of dust and streaming scarfs.