The enemies of the Prophet account for the accumulation of stones in this valley by the following story.
It is well known that Mohammed was assisted in the preparation of the Koran, by an Armenian monk, by name Serkiss. When their work was completed, the Prophet wished to attest it by a miracle.
He accordingly persuaded Serkiss to descend into a deep well, while he called all the multitude to assemble. Holding a blank book in his hand, he declared that if the Koran was indeed revealed from Heaven, he would drop this blank-book into the well, and Allah would send it up all written and inscribed.
The book descended, and Serkiss sent up the one he had already prepared. “Now,” said Mohammed, “let each man cast a stone into the well, which will be a monument to the world.” Whereupon every one of the great concourse cast a stone, and thus effectually prevented Serkiss from appearing to contradict the miracle. Ever since that time, the pilgrims have helped to accumulate these stones, until a vast monument, indeed, has been erected.
The Prophet now offered the sacrifice of sixty-three camels, according to the years of his own life, shaved his head, and having run seven times between the two hills Safa and Merwa, in imitation of Hagar searching for water, he completed the holy ceremonies.
According to this model have the pilgrims continued, ever since his time, the performance of these superstitious devotions.
The holy duties of the shrine being over, after a few worldly cares are disposed of, the now self-satisfied travellers turn their footsteps homewards. Purified, and set apart, henceforth the chosen of Allah, fearless of all danger, as if within the shadow of the eternal world, nothing intimidates the followers of the Prophet, as with the greatest self-complacency they anticipate the rest of their sojourn in this lower world. Many have sacrificed all their earthly possessions, but are they not sure of the imperishable riches of paradise. With eager fondness, they embrace once again friends and relations, while the odor of sanctity exhales from their sacred persons. With what panting bosoms and restless vision do the friends search among the remnant returned from the wanderings, for dear and familiar faces; and human wailings rend the air, as they are told that brother, sister, and husband, lie whitening on the sand, long ere this the prey of the vulture. The happy father clasps to his breast his precious offspring, and with sweet complacency, ties around its neck a morsel the holy covering of the Caaba, so sure the charm, and obtained at such infinite perils. The pilgrims are surrounded, and with jealous caution they bestow a few drops of the water of the holy well Zem-Zem, which glides down the throats of the faithful like the oily fountains of Paradise.
The weary camels even linger out their lives in luxurious idleness, retired from oppressive service, with an air of unconscious sanctity and repose.
Henceforward, the glorious title of Hadgee, belongs to the returned pilgrim; no razor profanes the beard, and the very door of the house, by its hue of the Prophet’s robe, the sacred green, proclaims the rank and holiness of its master.
The Hadgee, with long and solemn face, never wearies of recounting his wonderful adventures, portraying with ecstasy, the splendors of the shrine, detailing with holy rapture the ceremonies and devotions, until the flame of superstitious zeal is enkindled in every bosom, and their spirits yearn for the sweet sanctity and all-atoning atmosphere of the most refulgent Mecca—and many vows are made that in the coming year, their footsteps shall surely be thitherward.