[116] The slain are given at the fabulous figure of 70,000. The decapitation of the captives went on for a night and a day (so we are told), and then they scoured the country for more. Cacâa, one of the Arab captains, told Khâlid that ‘the Lord had forbidden the earth to allow human blood to flow upon its face more than the length of a man’s dress,’ and that it never would run in a stream until water was turned on. Blood, as we know, soon thickens and curdles of itself.
There is, presumably, great exaggeration in the story, and I should willingly have put down the whole as a fiction growing out of the name of the river; but the narrative unfortunately is in keeping with the bloodthirstiness of the Arab crusaders, and specially with the character of ‘the Sword of the Lord.’ The tradition about the flour-mills comes from Moghîra, through one of Tabari’s standing string of traditional authorities.
[117] She bore him children, or the circumstance would probably have been too common to merit a place in tradition. Abu Bekr was so charmed with his stalwart mien that he burst forth in a martial couplet in the envoy’s praise.
[118] For the history of Hîra up to this time, see Life of Mahomet, vol. i. introd. chap. iii. The Lakhmite dynasty sprang from the southern branch of the Arabs, and, both on this account and for the reasons stated in the text, their influence did not penetrate deeply into the peninsula.
[119] Called also Manîshia. It never recovered the calamity; at any rate we do not hear of it again.
[120] The escapes were opened perhaps as well to flood the country and impede the enemy’s progress, as to lay the navigating channel dry. These channels have greatly altered, so that attempt at identification would be fruitless.
[121] The palace of Khawarnac was built 200 years before, by Nomân I., for the reception of his pupil Bahrâm Gour, heir-apparent to the throne of Persia. Sinnimâr was the architect. There was a stone, so the story runs, which, if removed, the whole building would fall. The secret was known to Sinnimâr alone; and Nomân dashed him from the top, that the secret might perish with him. (Life of Mahomet, vol. i. p. clxxi.)
[122] The treaty is given as follows:—‘This is the Treaty of Khâlid with the son of Adi, Amr son of Abd al Masîh, and Iyâs ibn Cabîsa, empowered in that behalf by the citizens of Hîra. They shall pay, year by year, 190,000 dirhems, to be levied on clergy and laity, saving mendicants who have abjured the world. The Mussulmans on their side shall protect the city, otherwise there will be no obligation to pay the tribute. If the city be disloyal in word or deed, the treaty shall be void.’ The terms are given alike in two independent traditions; but the rising, which shortly after swept over the land, cancelled it.
[123] Showeil was an old dotard. When Kerâmat said to him, ‘What carest thou for an old creature like me?’ he replied, ‘I am not my mother’s son if I take less for thee than a thousand dirhems.’ She feigned to think it much, but paid it down. When she had gone, his companions laughed at him for asking such a trifling sum for so distinguished a captive. He went to Khâlid: ‘I meant,’ he said, ‘to ask the highest figure that there was; but now they tell me that numbers go beyond a thousand, and that I did not ask enough. Give me, therefore, a fitting ransom.’ Khâlid said: ‘Thou purposedst one thing, my friend, and the Lord purposed another. I judge by what appeareth, and leave thy purposes alone.’ I give the story as I find it, absurd as it appears, for the lady is said to have been fourscore years of age. The romance of early love, at any rate, was soon changed into a more sordid passion. The tale, though surrounded by marvels (e.g. Mahomet’s foretelling the conquest of Hîra), is, no doubt, founded on some slight substratum of fact. The lady’s age must be exaggerated as well as the simplicity of Showeil, since she was the daughter of Abd al Masîh who headed the deputation from the city.
[124] Tradition gives with considerable zest a somewhat coarse and childish conversation between Khâlid and the aged Abd al Masîh (called Ibn Backîla, ‘son of the bean-stalk,’ from his green dress), who headed the deputation. ‘Whence comest thou?’ asked the conqueror. ‘From my mother’s womb.’ ‘And where art thou now?’ ‘In my clothes,’ and so on. Asked what was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen, he said, ‘The road from Hîra to Damascus, which was lined in my early days with villages all along, so that a woman could travel on it alone, taking with her a single cake; but that time hath long passed by.’ His attendant carried a little bag containing a quick poison, which his master was prepared to swallow if any indignity had been shown him. Khâlid took and swallowed it, saying that no soul could die before its time. As no ill effect followed, the chief was lost in amazement, and declared that Khâlid must be irresistible. Marvellous tales of this sort are, however, very rare now. Some touching verses are recorded as sung by Ibn Backîla on the fall of Hîra. Here is a specimen:—