Jewish Fairy Tales and Legends Part 20

The jeweler could not understand the plans on the scroll, but on the model in the box he feasted his eyes for several minutes in speechless amazement.

"It is indeed remarkable," he said at last. "I will give thee eighty thousand gold pieces for thy slave, who must build for me just such a palace."

Ibrahim immediately informed the Arab, who at once consented to perform the task, and then the pious man hastened home to his wife and children with the good news and the money, which made him rich for the rest of his days.

To the Arab the jeweler said, "Thou wilt regain thy liberty if thou wilt succeed in thy undertaking. Begin at once. I will forthwith engage the workmen."

"I need no workmen," was the Arab's singular reply. "Take me to the land whereon I must build, and to-morrow thy palace shall be complete."

"Tomorrow!"

"Even as I say," answered the Arab.

The sun was setting in golden glory when they reached the ground, and pointing to the sky the Arab said: "Tomorrow, when the great orb of light rises above the distant hills, its rays will strike the minarets and domes and towers of thy palace, n.o.ble sir. Leave me now. I must pray."

In perfect bewilderment, the merchant left the stranger. From a distance he watched the man devoutly praying. He had made up his mind to watch all the night; but when the moon rose, deep sleep overcame him and he dreamed. He dreamed that he saw myriads of men swarming about strange machines and scaffolding which grew higher and higher, hiding a vast structure.

Ibrahim dreamed, too, but in his vision one figure, that of the Arab, stood out above all other things. Ibrahim scanned the features of the stranger closely; he followed, as it were, the man's every movement.

He noticed how all the workmen and particularly the supervisors did the stranger great honor, showing him the deference due to one of the highest position. And with grave and dignified mien, the Arab responded kindly. From the heavens a bright light shone upon the scene, the radiance being softest wherever the Arab stood.

In his dream, it so appeared to Ibrahim, he rose from his bed, went out into the night, and approached the palace magically rising from the waste ground beyond the city. Nearer and nearer his footsteps took him, until he stood beside the Arab again. One of the chief workmen approached and addressed the stranger--by name!

Then it was Ibrahim understood--and he awoke. The sun was streaming in through the lattice of his bedroom. He sprang from his bed and looked out upon a magnificent spectacle. Beyond the city the sun's rays were reflected by a dazzling array of gilded cupolas and glittering spires, the towers of the palace of marble that he had seen builded in his dream. Instantly he went out and made haste to the palace to a.s.sure himself that his dream was really over. Ibrahim and the jeweler arrived before the gates at the same moment. They stood speechless with amazement and admiration before the model of the Arab grown to immense proportions.

Almost at the same moment, the gates, ornamented with beaten gold, opened from within and the Arab stood before them. Ibrahim bent low his head.

The Arab addressed the merchant.

"Have I fulfilled my promise and earned my freedom?" he asked.

"Verily thou hast," answered the merchant.

"Then farewell, and may blessings rest on thee and the good Ibrahim and on all your works."

Thus spoke the Arab, raising his hands in benediction. Then he disappeared within the golden doors.

The jeweler and Ibrahim followed quickly, but though they hastened through the halls and corridors of many colored marbles, in and out of rooms lighted by windows of clearest crystal, and up and down staircases of burnished metal, they could find no one. Emerging into the open again, they saw a huge crowd standing in wonderment before the gates.

"Tell me," said the jeweler, "who was the builder of this magic palace."

"Elijah, the Prophet," said Ibrahim, "the benefactor of mankind, who revisits the earth to a.s.sist in their distress those deemed worthy.

Blessed am I, and blessed art thou for thy good deeds, for we have been truly honored."

To show his grat.i.tude, the merchant gave a banquet in his palace to all the people in the city and scattered gold and silver pieces among the crowds that thronged the streets.

The Sleep of One Hundred Years

It was at the time of the destruction of the First Temple. The cruel war had laid Jerusalem desolate, and terrible was the suffering of the people.

Rabbi Onias, mounted on a camel, was sorrowfully making his way toward the unhappy city. He had traveled many days and was weary from lack of sleep and faint with hunger, yet he would not touch the basket of dates he had with him, nor would he drink from the water in a leather bottle attached to the saddle.

"Perchance," he said, "I shall meet some one who needs them more than I."

But everywhere the land was deserted. One day, nearing the end of the journey, he saw a man planting a carob tree at the foot of a hill.

"The Chaldeans," said the man, "have destroyed my beautiful vineyards and all my crops, but I must sow and plant anew, so that the land may live again."

[Ill.u.s.tration: The sun was s.h.i.+ning on a n.o.ble city of pinnacles and minarets. (_P. 191_).]

Onias pa.s.sed sorrowfully on and at the top of the hill he stopped.

Before him lay Jerusalem, not the once beautiful city with its hundreds of domes and minarets that caught the first rays of the sun each morning, but a vast heap of ruins and charred buildings. Onias threw himself on the ground and wept bitterly. No human being could he see, and the sun was setting over what looked like a city of the dead.

"Woe, woe," he cried. "Zion, my beautiful Zion, is no more. Can it ever rise again? Not in a hundred years can its glory be renewed."

The sun sank lower as he continued to gaze upon the ruined city, and darkness gathered over the scene. Utterly exhausted, Onias, laying his head upon his camel on the ground, fell into a deep sleep.

The silver moon shone serenely through the night and paled with the dawn, and the sun cast its bright rays on the sleeping rabbi. Darkness spread its mantle of night once more, and again the sun rose, and still Onias slept. Days pa.s.sed into weeks, the weeks merged into months, and the months rolled on until years went by; but Rabbi Onias did not waken.

Seeds, blown by the winds and brought by the birds, dropped around him, took root and grew into shrubs, and soon a thick hedge surrounded him and screened him from all who pa.s.sed. A date that had fallen from his basket, took root also, and in time there rose a beautiful palm tree which cast a shade over the sleeping figure.

And thus a hundred years rolled by.

Suddenly, Onias moved, stretched himself and yawned. He was awake again. He looked around confused.

"Strange," he muttered. "Did I not fall asleep on a hill overlooking Jerusalem last night? How comes it now that I am hemmed in by a thicket and am lying in the shade of this n.o.ble date palm?"

With great difficulty he rose to his feet.

"Oh, how my bones do ache!" he cried. "I must have overslept myself.

And where is my camel?"

Puzzled, he put his hand to his beard. Then he gave a cry of anguish.

"What is this? My beard is snow-white and so long that it almost reaches to the ground."

He sank down again, but the mound on which he sat was but a heap of rubbish and collapsed under his weight. Beneath it were bones. Hastily clearing away the rubbish, he saw the skeleton of a camel.

"This surely must be my camel," he said. "Can I have slept so long?

The saddle-bags have rotted, too. But what is this?" and he picked up the basket of dates and the water-bottle. The dates and the water were quite fresh.

"This must be some miracle," he said. "This must be a sign for me to continue my journey. But, alas, that Jerusalem should be destroyed!"

He looked around and was more puzzled than ever. When he had fallen asleep the hill had been bare of vegetation. Now it was covered with carob trees.

"I think I remember a man planting a carob tree yesterday," he said.