# Wings: Tales of the Psychic/Khizr
### KHIZR

And thus it came about that twelve days after Beiram, the great King Suleiman—master of the seven climes, emperor of the winds, illustrious sultan of jinns and giants—took his youngest son, Aziz-Ullah, by the hand and led him into the golden hall of state where he made to seat him on the throne of the Caliphs. Then the King sent out black slaves, dressed in purple and silver, and commanded them to summon to his presence his thirty vezirs and his ninety sons; and when they had all assembled in the golden hall of state, he spoke to them, saying:
"My youngest son, Aziz-Ullah, shall be ruler in my stead, for he has shown himself to be as wise as Haroun-el-Rashid. Nay, he is as wise as Omar, the great Caliph, on whom be peace; and thus I shall cede to him the mastery of the seven climes, the empire of the winds, the sultanate of jinns and giants. To him I give the hand of the beautiful Princess Zoleidé."
​And Aziz-Ullah bowed humbly before his father, the great King Suleiman, and all rejoiced; slaves brought sherbet and coffee and pipes with long mouthpieces of amber and diamond, and then a story-teller from Egypt entered the golden hall of state and he told the story of the faithless wife and the just kadee, which is the story of Khizr, the mighty spirit, and Khassoum ibn Taib, the seeker for wisdom.
Yes, you children of Arab fathers, gladly I shall tell you the wonderful story, the true story which relates how wickedness was punished, how righteousness found its shining reward, and which also proves once more that woman is the mother of deceit and falsehood—Do not bite your mustache, young brother of my heart, even if your wife is young and the apple of your eye; well we know it, for did we not see you bringing presents to her father's house only two moons ago? Before you drain the wine of life, you will yet learn to remember the wise saying of the great King Solomon of the tribe of Israel: "Obedience to women is the entrance gate to Jehenna."
I shall tell you the story of stories, full of wis​dom and as clever as the fable of the wolf and the fox; but, by the beard of the Prophet, on whom be peace, I am but a poor man and my children are many and starving. Alms are the wealth of the poor, my brothers; give me a handful of piastres, a little child's handful of small silver piastres, and may Allah never open to me the gates of Paradise if I do not delight your hearts with the true story of the just kadee and the faithless woman,
Alhamdulillah!—Blessings on him who is open-handed and kind to the poor—Thanks, my master, may Allah grant thee eternal happiness; may the hand of Ali protect thy children and thy children's children from the evil eye—
I am poor and my children are starving—thanks, son of noble sires, thou art indeed as generous as Mahroud, the great Sultan, and thou dost not look with indifference on thy starving neighbor—pass the bowl to the left, for I see another true believer ready to loosen the strings of his bulging purse to give alms to this poorest of story-tellers.
Praises be to the Most High!—Here is another and even another who know the words in the book ​of the Koran: "O true believers, bestow alms of the good things which ye have gained to those threatened with poverty."
Ye are indeed Moslim; I take refuge in the cooling shadow of your generosity, and now I shall tell you the story which delighted the heart of Aziz-Ullah, of his noble father, his ninety brothers and the thirty vezirs; the story of the wisest of kadees and the most deceitful of women, which is the story of Khassoum and Khizr, the mighty spirit.
Know then, ye sons of Arab fathers, that once there existed a land which the unbelievers had not yet overrun with their merchants and their soldiers, their railways and their black-coated priests. In this land there was a town which the Prophet himself had honored with his presence; it was a town holier than Kairwan before the French—Allah's curse on them and their children—had desecrated its sacred buildings, and greater and richer than Stamboul itself, the home of the Caliph, the commander of the faithful.
This town was the asylum of knowledge and instruction, the abode of greatness, the home of justice and piety; the wondering gaze of the stranger beheld there three thousand public baths, built of ​marble and granite; and the minarets of innumerable mosques pointing to the sky like so many thousands of masts in the port of Algiers—great mosques, white and dazzling in the yellow sunshine, prayers of stone, built to commemorate the holy names of the Most High King of men, the Almighty, the Everlasting who has created and disposed of thousands of worlds. There is no God but He.
In this town there lived two brothers, Nassim and Khassoum, the sons of Hadji Taib, a rich seller of perfumes who had come from Yemen, the home of his ancestors.
One day a marabout on pilgrimage bent, found hospitality in Taib's house, and he looked at the palms of Nassim and Khassoum who were playing in the courtyard and said: "Taib, thy son Nassim shall be rich and powerful; but he shall perish through his brother's love. Khassoum, thy second-born, shall be poor; but Khizr, the mighty spirit, shall be always at his right and shall teach him to seek for the innermost secret of Islam. He shall know the knowledge of books, the love of the flesh, the bitterness of deceit, the triumph of justice—and then he shall know Islam."
​Taib listened to the inspired words of the holy marabout, and then he went to the harem and told the mother of his two sons what had been prophesied.
The two brothers grew up side by side, and when they had reached the age of manhood they went together on pilgrimage to behold the blessed towns of Mecca and Medina.
Now, Hadji Khassoum was a noble youth and a true Moslim; he was resigned unto Allah, pious and generous; he was an old man in prudence, but a youth in the might of his two strong arms; his face was as fair as the moon on the fourteenth day, and his body as slender and supple as a Damascan blade; his sword was triumphant in the cause of justice, and when he opened his mouth to speak, men would point at him and say: "Listen to the pilgrim whose words are like sweet liquid honey; he is indeed as wise as 'Asef."
Such was Khassoum, the son of Taib.
But his elder brother, Nassim, was shaped in the likeness of Eblis, the cursed father of lies; the fruit of his mouth was bitter and his sharp tongue darted forth venom like the unclean reptile found in the ​grass; the poor starved at his door, and he bared his dagger only to further the rule of iniquity and of oppression; he was indeed like the snake which stings his mother and kills her even as she bears him. He, too, was a Hadji; but the circumambulation of the shrines had done him little good and he returned from Mecca as bad and cruel and greedy and faithless as on the day when he had donned the pilgrim's garb. Allah had sealed his heart, and whenever he was seen holding converse with another man, the little children would gather around him and say: "Who is the man whom you are duping to-day, O Nassim, son of Taib?"
But you know the heart of woman; and you know that in a mother's eye every scorpion is a fleet gazelle.
Thus you will not wonder when I tell you that the mother of the two brothers loved Nassim with a far greater love than the noble Khassoum. Her first-born was indeed the apple of her eye, and on him she lavished all her caresses; and when Taib, the father of her children, the rich seller of perfumes, lay on his death-bed, her woman's wit spoke to the great love which she bore her elder son. ​She thought of the marabout's prophesy and trembled for the fate of her elder son; and she persuaded Taib to leave to Nassim all his belongings; his town house with its pillared courtyards of inlaid marble, its cooling fountain and its ceilings covered with green and gold arabesques; his country estate with its hanging gardens and its orchards of almond, date, apricot and orange; his rich shop in the Sukh Attarin, where his agents sold to the wealthy the perfumes of Arabia, essences of rose, of violet and of geranium.
Thus, when fate rolled up the scroll of Taib's life, Nassim inherited all his father's fortune, and he prospered exceedingly. Every enterprise he touched turned into gold: he made treaties with the pirates of the Barbary coast, and to him they brought the fairest and strongest of the Giaour slaves whom they captured; his caravans, guarded by armed Bedawin tribes, crossed the desert from the white Nile to the black ranges of the Atlas, from the sweet shores of Tripoli to the desert cities of the far bitter South; his ships brought merchandise from Stamboul, Oman, Damascus, and even from far off China, and the people looked up when he passed and said to each other: "There ​goes Nassim, the son of Taib, the great merchant"; for let but a dog roll in gold, and the men in the bazaar will call him "Sir Dog."
His fame was great throughout the lands of the Moslim; and from the dazzling palace of the Sheriff at Mecca to the somber tents of the murderous Tauregs, all knew the name of Nassim, the rich.
And ever greater became his greed tor the hard yellow gold; forgetting the commandments of the Messenger Mohammed—on whom be peace—he formed partnerships with the Jew and the Giaour merchants who lived in the coast towns and lent out money at usuring rates of interest. His wealth increased, and the more it increased, the more he tightened the strings of his purse; he endowed no mosques, no libraries rich in written knowledge, no shrines to commemorate the glories of Islam's fighting marabouts. He built no fountains and dug no wells to assure to himself the gratitude and the blessings of future generations; and the people in the bazaars who called him Effendi to his face, called him a pig, the son of a pig with a pig's heart, as soon as his back was turned; and the little children would run into the houses of their parents ​when they heard his shuffling gait, and secure behind the latticed windows they would cry:
"O Nassim, son of Taib and grandson of a dog, thy feet are as thy knees, thy knees are as thy belly, thy belly is as thy face, and thy face is ugly and fat. Look at the Moslim whose beard is gray and dirty. Do not weep, or thou wilt make us laugh; do not laugh, or thou wilt make us weep. Behold the Moslim to whom was given a cursed stone in stead of a heart. May Allah grant that thou mayest go to bed and never rise again."
Such was Nassim, the son of Taib, who inherited all his father's fortune and who turned from his door Hadji Khassoum, his only brother, the noble child of the morning.
But Khassoum laughed the laugh of the free in mind and strong in body; he left the house of his father, and with his last purse he bought himself a fine white racing dromedary, a pedigreed animal, sure-footed and fleet. With a song and a prayer on his lips, he left the town of his birth and went into the desert.
He rode eastward across the yellow lands until he reached the green oasis of Bir Tef guia, and there he knocked at the gates of a great white monastery. ​The holy derwishes of the brotherhood, the beloved ones of Allah, opened the gates and gave him food and shelter. They were old men, with the dignity of white beards, but they loved the youth who had come to them from the West, and they gave to him a little cell which opened towards a garden, rich with fruits and flowers of many colors.
For seven years Khassoum ibn Taib lived with the inspired ones of the Bir Tefguia; there were thousands of volumes in the library of the monastery, and the young Hadji would read and read, and think and think until his knowledge became as vast as time, as deep as the sea and as broad as the river Nile.
But ever and anon the voice of Khizr spoke to him, saying: "Khassoum, a pilgrim thou art and rich in knowledge, but thou hast not yet learned the lesson of true wisdom. Seek on!"
Khassoum listened to the voice of Khizr and he sought; he read and thought and read again, until his was the knowledge of a thousand generations; at his command the spirits of the soldiers, the saints, the scholars and the great men of the past would fly through the window of his little cell and keep him company. They talked to him and taught ​him until it seemed that he had reached the limits of earthly knowledge.
Nature herself was his teacher, and nature taught him the language of the flowers and of the birds, the songs of the desert winds at dawn and the sayings of the gurgling water in the wells—but still the voice of Khizr said: "Khassoum, seek on."
He sought—and one day a caravan passed through the oasis of Bir Tefguia, and Khassoum saw amongst it a girl; she was of those Bedawin who do not veil their faces, and he thought her fairer than the young day. He said to himself: "Now have I found what the voice of my mind has commanded me to seek. I have found love."
He went to the girl of the Bedawin and said:
"I love thee and thee I must have. I have wandered far and wide; my roaming feet have brought me to Mecca and Medina, across the four deserts and even to the towns of Greece and of Hindustan, the home of the unbelievers. I have seen the women of many lands.
"I have seen the women of Baloutchistan, and their eyes were brown and moist like those of the timid gazelle. I have looked at the dark women of the Nubian plains, and I thought them as ​beautiful as purple shadows of the dawning sun. My eyes have beheld the raven locks of Persia's maidens, and I compared them to Leila; I dreamt of Jamshid's love. I have heard the love cry of Circassian slaves, and it was like Damascan silk torn by Damascan daggers. But thou art fairer than the earth; thee I must have, be thou houri or peri.
"The moon rises only for thee. Thy voice is like the nightingale's, thy breath like the wild jasmine of Lybia's distant shore. My heart is in thy hands, as is the clay in the hands of a potter.
"Thou art sweeter than the roses of Ispahan, the roses of a thousand leaves; thou art as graceful as the waving pines on Syrian hills. I love thee, thou daughter of Bedawin; I love thee. Thee I must have, or I die."
These were the words of Khassoum's great love—and the voice at his right said: "Khassoum, seek on."
But love had sealed his ears and he did not hear.
Aziza, the daughter of the Bedawin, listened to the words of his heart; she looked at him and he seemed comely in her eyes.
Then there were loud rejoicings among the Beda​win, and they prepared everything for the marriage ceremony.
But the hearts of the derwishes in the great monastery of the Bir Tefguia were heavy with sad ness, and El Mansouri, their wise sheykh, took the youth aside and said to him: "Khassoum, thou art young and I am old; but the old heart loves the young heart. Thus I ask thee to remember the saying of the sage: 'He is a fool who marries a stranger.’" And Khassoum answered, laughing carelessly: "Great sheykh, thou art old and I am young; yet does the young heart love the old heart. Remember thou the saying of the Persian poet: 'Only he is wise who loves.’"
Then the kind derwishes bowed their heads to the decrees of inevitable fate; and they talked amongst themselves, and out of their scanty belongings they gave to Khassoum, that he might send a suitable dower to the maiden's father.
And on the seventh day after the new moon, the marriage ceremonies began. There was feasting during four days; lambs were roasted whole and there were rivers of sherbet, coffee and unfermented palm-wine. On the evening of the fourth day the bride went to her master's tent which had ​been prepared by the sheykh, El Mansouri. Her nails were stained with henna, her eyebrows were blackened, and she looked as fair as the rising sun. She was accompanied by her brothers and male cousins who wore branches of almond and jasmine over their right ears, and she became the wife of Khassoum, the son of Taib.
So they left the hospitable oasis of Bir Tefguia find rode for many a day. His love grew, and he thought of the poets of Teheran and he called her Mer-el-Nissar, the sun amongst women; but still he could hear the voice of Khizr saying to him at dawn: "Khassoum ibn Taib, seek, seek on, and thou shalt find." But Khassoum was deaf to the voice of Khizr, the mighty spirit.
One night Mer-el-Nissar said to him: "Khassoum, thy heart is marked with chastity and piety; thine is the strength of body and the clearness of mind. Thine eyes glow with the intense light of those blessed ones who are rich in wisdom. I love thee well. Sweet are the words which flow like honey from thy tongue, and thou callest me the sun amongst women, the loveliest rose amongst the blooming flowers. Thou hast allowed me to partake of the rich fruit of knowledge stored in thy ​brain, for thou art as good as thou art wise. But tell me, Khassoum, where are thy people? My limbs are weary with the hard yellow desert, and fain would I rest in thy harem, thy one, thy favorite wife. Tell me, Khassoum, where is thy clan? Lead me to them that I may love them even as I love thee."
And Khassoum answered saying: "Rose of my heart, my father is dead, my mother is dead. I have no relative but one brother, Nassim; he is richer than the Egyptian merchants who live in Jeddah, but his heart is as hard as the rock of Tarik."
When Mer-el-Nissar heard the name of Nassim the rich, the black snake of avarice and greed reared his venomous head in her heart, and she cried: "O Khassoum, let us go to him as thou lovest me. He is thy only brother, and surely he will be glad to see thee, and give us shelter and food and riches."
Thus she begged and begged until she had wearied his soul and he assented.
The son of Taib listened not to the voice of Khizr which whispered in his ear: "Khassoum, remember the words of Omar, the great Caliph: 'Let one ​take council of a woman and do the opposite of what she says.'"
So they turned their dromedaries' heads to the West and rode for many a long night until they came to the village of El Jebwina, which is a day's ride from the holy town where lived Hadji Nassim, the rich merchant. When they reached El Jebwina, they had spent their last purse; so they sold their dromedaries and that night slept among the animals' hoofs in the courtyard of the Khan. The next morning they set out on foot, just as the sun appeared on Allah's tent, for they hoped to enter the gates of the great town before dawn spread its gray bournous over the land.
They walked and walked and walked until their feet were tired and sore, when a merchant overtook them. Rubies and diamonds flashed in his green turban, his cloak was of the finest Bokhara silk, and he rode a great white horse which was like Borak, the lion-headed horse of the Prophet, on whom be peace. And behold it was Nassim himself, the rich brother, the man with the heart of stone.
Khassoum recognized him and said: "Nassim, it is I, thy brother, who is speaking to thee, and this ​is the woman who shall be the mother of my sons. We are on our way to thy great house. Wilt thou not give us food and shelter?"
Nassim looked at his brother, and then he looked at the unveiled features of the Bedawin girl; and the devil of lust arose within him, the devil of lust and cunning.
He jumped from his horse and embraced Khassoum, even as Judas, the accursed, embraced Esa, the holy messenger of the house of Imram, and said: "All praise to the Most High God, Creator of the ten thousand worlds! All praise to the most Benign Lord, who weighs life and death in the hollow of His hand! Praise and thanksgiving to the Almighty who has granted me this day of days, who in his munificence has permitted that I may yet behold the beloved, the beloved features of Khassoum, the brother of my heart, before I die! Surely I shall give shelter and food to thee, my brother, and to the noble daughter of the Bedawin who walks at thy side. Gladly I would give to thee my horse, but I am a weak man, my feet are unused to the hard sand-grains of the desert. But my horse is strong enough for two. So let the daughter of the Bedawin mount behind me; and ​thou, strong brother, canst follow on foot, until we reach the house of our father, where I shall prepare a great feast."
Joy and gratitude filled the heart of Khassoum; he helped Mer-el-Nissar upon the saddle behind Nassim, and he heeded not the voice of Khizr which whispered in his ear: "Khassoum, seek on, and do not listen to the words of those rich in iniquity."
Thus they proceeded on their journey and gradually Nassim increased the distance between himself and his brother until he was safely out of hearing. Then he turned slightly in his high saddle and said: "Girl of the Bedawin, remember the saying of the wise: 'Do not go with him who is poor and who cannot help thee; for in this world he cannot serve thee, and in the next world thou must be weighed by thyself in the balance-scales of right and wrong, and he cannot intercede in thy behalf.' Even such is my brother who is behind us dragging his tired feet in the sand. He can give thee nothing but the dry fruits of starvation and misery. But me, men call the rich Nassim, and well they may. The gates which bar the entrance to my palace are studded with golden nails and with the light blue stones my ​caravans bring from Afghanistan. My divans are covered with silken rugs from Khiva and Bokhara, and even the meanest of my black slaves is dressed in purple and silver. Mine are the choicest pearls, and emeralds without flaws; mine are riches greater than those which Ali Baba found in the caves of the forty thieves. Say but the one word, and whatever I possess is thine. As to Khassoum—be not afraid; I have six Giaour merchants in my pay who will swear to anything I command them to. And who is the kadee who would dare to accept the testimony of the miserable Khassoum against that of Nassim, the powerful, the rich, and that of the six wealthiest unbelievers in the holy town which thou canst see looming in the blue distance?"
Sons of Arabs, did not Omar, the great Caliph, the successor of the Prophet—on whom be benedictions—say that the heart of woman is always mercenary? Even so; thus you will not be surprised to hear that Mer-el-Nissar, the loveliest sun amongst the Bedawin, the beloved one of Khassoum's heart, listened with joy to the words of Nassim and readily agreed to his evil proposal. Accordingly, when they came to a crossroad, the accursed elder son of Taib spurred his horse, and ​soon he and the Bedawin woman were nothing but a little gray cloud of dust on the dim horizon.
In vain did Khassoum protest; they neither heard nor heeded his entreaties; black despair and sorrow and a great understanding came over him, and he heard the voice of Khizr, the mighty spirit, which whispered into his ear: "Seek on, thou son of Arab sires, and thou wilt yet learn wisdom. Thou hast learned one lesson to-day: Do not put all thy eggs into one basket, and if thou dost, give not the basket in keeping of a woman—her whom Allah has created without soul. Now go to the holy town and prostrate thyself at the feet of the wise kadee, Mohammed Ed-Din, and there thou shalt learn the lesson of justice and true wisdom. Seek on, Khassoum."
Wearily Khassoum continued his journey towards the holy town, and when he arrived here he went to the house of the kadee and told him what had happened to him.
Mohammed Ed-Din listened and said: "By the praised name of Hassan, the son of Ali—on whom be peace forever—justice shall be thine, and dire punishment the lot of those who dare to break the laws of the written word of the Koran. Did not ​the Prophet—blessings on him—say that Allah will not wrong any one, even the weight of an ant?"
That night the kadee, the protector of the poor and the friend of the oppressed, gave hospitality to the son of Taib, the noble Khassoum, and the next morning, after prayer, he sent summons to Nassim and to the Bedawin woman and ordered them to appear before his divan. Nassim came and with him came the Bedawin woman and also the six Greek merchants who were in his pay and whom he had brought as witnesses.
The kadee told him of what his brother had accused him, and he answered: "O kadee full of wisdom, judge not before thou knowest and remember the saying of the wise: 'Look first to the end of whatever thou undertakest, and then act accordingly.' Khassoum is indeed my brother, but he is envious of my riches and he loves me not. Give not access in thy heart to his deceptions, and remember the words of the Messenger—on whom be peace—that lies and cunning deceptions are the forerunners of the accursed work of Satan, the evil one. Thou art just, O kadee, and the dirt of lying deceptions cannot sully the hem of thy white garments of knowledge and wisdom. Mohammed ​Ed-Din, these are my witnesses, six merchants of this holy town, honored by every one and wealthy in the world's goods; they will swear to thee that they have known this woman for many years as the favorite inmate of my harem."
The kadee told the six merchants to approach, and the first merchant said: "Verily, O kadee, I have known this woman for long years as the Fatima of the Hadji's harem. Many a shawl and many a cunningly worked rug have I sold to her."
The second merchant said: "O kadee, truth is ever its own defense. This is the woman which long ago Nassim brought from amongst the tribes. Many a yard of silk have I spread at her feet, that she might choose and buy."
The third merchant said: "It is she, the apple of Nassim's eye. I remember well how, seven years ago, she came to my little shop in the bazaar, accompanied by two black attendants, and bought from me at a cheap price, be it said, an amber necklace which had once belonged to his eminent Highness, the great Effendi Bey of Tripoli."
The fourth merchant said: "Trade is needful for a poor man. Of me Nassim bought slippers and jewels and Turkish sweets when, many years ​ago, he paid the dower to the father of this woman."
The fifth merchant said: "I am an ignorant man, and speech does not come readily to my lips. But may I never enter the Christian paradise if this is not the shining one of Nassim's harem, and if she has not bought many pounds of spices and sugar in my poor shop."
The sixth merchant said : "May my right hand wither as does the thirsty date-tree when the well dries up, if I do not speak the truth; verily I declare that this is the well-beloved favorite woman of Nassim's household! She is a Bedawin, and according to the custom of the tribesmen she came here unveiled; but she obeyed her master's wishes, and I am the merchant who sold to her the first black and gold Egyptian veil, to hide her chaste features from the impudent glance of the multitude."
Such was the testimony of the six Giaour merchants, and the kadee was puzzled; and though he knew in the inmost chamber of his heart that Khassoum was speaking the truth, he did not know how to prove it.
He thought and thought and thought, O you chil​dren of Arabs, until Ilyas, the great Kutb, heard his praying thoughts and left his abode on the roof of the Kaabah in Mecca to fiy across the Western desert and to bring to Mohammed Ed-Din the inspiration which he needed. Ilyas spoke to the soul of the kadee, and the kadee exclaimed: "Hafiz, my faithful slave, go thou to the house of Hadji Nassim and bring to me the dogs which belong to his household."
The slave bowed and left, and soon he returned leading on a chain the two dogs of Nassim's house, two strong Kabyle dogs with black bristly hair and huge teeth.
The kadee ordered the woman to confront the dogs: "If thou hast been in Nassim's harem for long years, they will surely recognize thee." She obeyed trembling, and though she tried her best to talk to them with sweet words and gestures of blandishment, the dogs growled at her and showed their teeth and proved clearly that the woman was a stranger to them.
Then the wise kadee raised his hands and said: "Nassim, and thou, woman of the Bedawin, I sentence you according to the words in the book of the Koran: 'If any of the true believers commit ​the crime of adultery, punish them both; produce witnesses against them, imprison them in separate apartments until death release them, or Allah affordeth them a way to escape.' And you, Greek infidels, remember the words: 'Woe be unto those who give false testimony.' Ye shall have your hands and feet cut off, and be thrown out into the yellow desert, until Allah takes pity on you and relieves you from your pains."
Then the kadee clapped his hands and slaves came, and they took Nassim and Mer-el-Nissar and the six merchants and did to them according to the judgment of the kadee.
Then Mohammed Ed-Din, the judge who was as wise as Haroun-el-Rashid, turned to the men who had gathered to hear him administer justice and punishment, and said:
"To-day I have proved that the testimony of two dogs is more to be believed than the testimony of Nassim, the rich, and that of six Greek merchants."
You ask me what became of Khassoum, ye sons of Arabs?
Khassoum bowed before the wise judge and praised him, and then he turned his face towards ​Mecca; he wandered towards the rising sun, for the voice of Khizr was still whispering into his ear: "Go out into the yellow lands, Khassoum ibn Taib, and seek on, that thou ma vest find Islam, that thou mayest find true resignation."
For many a year, he wandered in the wilderness, without sandals to protect his blistering feet, fasting and praying and avoiding the habitations of man kind, until he had become a holy Welee, a master in the true faith. Khizr was always before him, spreading his great silver wings, pointing the way like a shining guiding star and speaking to him at dawn.
Many a time Eblis and his host of evil demons tried to tempt him, but he was steadfast and practiced self-denial until he was a saint, holier than Esh-Shiblee himself.
One day, during Dhu-l-Hijjeh, the holy month of pilgrimages, he wandered from the mountains into the desert until he came to the caravan road which leads from Timbuctoo to the oasis of the Northern Sahara. He spread his ragged bournous and lay down, his forehead touching the ground, and for three days and three nights he did not sleep, nor did he touch food or drink, but he repeated over and ​over again the words "La ilah illallah," until his mind had absorbed the deepest meaning of Islam: There is no God but the God.
On the evening of the third day, Khizr gently closed his eyes, but the eyes of his soul were wide open, and it seemed to him that he was in the courtyard of a huge palace, whose roof melted dimly into the silvery blueness of the skies; the walls of the palace were of pearl and red jacinth and yellow gold; and wherever he turned his eyes, he saw written on these walls the shining words: La ilah illallah. … From afar he could hear the rippling waters of Selsebil, the river that flows through Paradise, and he felt an indescribable happiness.
And Khizr summoned Azrael, the black-winged angel of death, and Azrael came and kissed lightly the lips of Khassoum, the pilgrim, the son of Taib, the Welee, the great saint.