Al Asad al Makhzumi, another idolater, instead of being discouraged by the result of this first attempt, felt his blood boiling in his veins and shouted loudly enough to be heard by both parties: 'By our gods! by Lat and Uzza! I swear to slake my thirst in the cistern of Mohammad's "qawm." Then I'll demolish it and only death can stop me!'
He dashed forward, brimming over with arrogance. Hamzah went to meet him and, with a blow from his scimitar, sliced off one of his legs and sent it flying. Al Asad fell backwards, turned himself over, and hopping with surprising agility on both hands and his sound leg, tried to make his way to the reservoir and keep his oath. But Hamzah was there to meet him and finished him off just as he reached the goal.
Three champions came forward from among the ranks of the Unbelievers to challenge the Believers to single combat, and they were Utbah with his son, Al Walid, and his brother, Shaibah. Hamzah, Ali, and Obaidah were chosen by the Prophet to oppose them. Stalwart Hamzah and impetuous Ali soon rid themselves of their adversaries, stretching them bleeding and lifeless on the sand, but Obaidah and Utbah had no sooner crossed swords than they both wounded each other grievously.
Obaidah, one leg so deeply gashed that the marrow dripped from the bone, was on his back, at his enemy's mercy, when Ali and Hamzah came to the rescue and freed him by killing Utbah. They then lifted up their wounded comrade and carried him to the Prophet, who supported his head lovingly on his knee, consoling him by the glad tidings of the reward awaiting him in Paradise. Obaidah soon breathed his last sigh and was thus the first martyr struck down in the Holy War.
After these single combats causing the hearts of all the lookers-on to palpitate with warlike ardour, the shock of the forces could no longer be postponed. The Prophet had drawn up his warriors in line, shoulder to shoulder, in serried ranks, like stone blocks cemented to form a wall, and it was all he could do to restrain the impatience of many who, outstripping their brothers-in-arms, would have run to face certain and useless slaughter.
Such an one, Sad ibn Quzai, was far in advance of the post assigned to him. So as to make him take his proper place, Mohammad struck him on the breast with the shaft of an arrow he held in his hand. 'Thou didst hurt me, O prophet!' cried Sad. 'As a messenger from Allah, sent to bring about the triumph of Right and Justice, thou dost owe me reparation on thine own body.'—'Satisfy thyself!'—'Thou art clothed, whereas my flesh was naked.' The Prophet laid bare his breast, saying: 'Give me as good as I gave, O Sad!'
Profiting by the permission, Sad threw himself on Mohammad, took him in his arms and pressed his lips to his body. 'Why do thou this thing?' asked the Prophet.—'O Messenger of Allah! death faceth me and I desired that for my last farewell, my flesh should touch thy flesh!'
Moved by such fierce devotion, Mohammad called down the blessing of the Most High on Sad. Then, having ordered his men to wait without flinching for the enemy's attack, he went back with Abu Bakr to the arish, of which the entrance was guarded by Sad ibn Muaz, sword in hand. The Prophet prayed: 'O Allah, remember Thy promise! If this day, Thou dost let the army of the soldiers of the faith be exterminated, no one will be left on earth to adore Thee!'
Uneasy at the great disparity of numbers, Mohammad renewed his supplicating prostrations. His mantle slipped from his shoulders. Abu Bakr picked it up and threw it over him again, saying: 'Rest easy, O Prophet! Allah will surely do what He promised!'
Overwrought by excess of fatigue and anxiety, the Prophet lost his senses, and his eyes closed for a second, only to reopen almost immediately. A smile lit up his features. 'Good news, O Abu Bakr!' he cried. 'The angel Jibra'il flieth to our assistance. I see the sand rising in a whirlwind under his horse's hoofs!