Successor To The Sheikh

-- Story from Morocco --

There was a sheikh of the Arabs called Ghanim who was respected above all other men in his tribe. His sons were many, and the youngest was called Diyab. One day, seeing that the sheikh was growing old in years, his people said to him, “O sheikh Ghanim, choose one of your sons to be leader over us when, after a long life, you are gone.” He replied, “The best of my sons shall rule the Hilalis; I give you Diyab.” “O sheikh Ghanim,” they said, “you have knowledge and you have wisdom and your word is a command, yet Diyab is young.” “We shall see,” he said.

           One day the sheikh was with his wife, speaking of lineage and ancestry. “Your tribe differs from us Hilalis,” he began, but she said, “We too are of the Beni Hilal!” “Oho, that is an easy thing to test” said the sheikh. “With but three words one can always tell a true Hilali.” “What are the words?” “Ask your brothers this riddle: what of the tings in the world is the lightest, what the hottest, and what the sweetest? If they give you the right answers, I shall add one hundred gold pieces to the sum of your bridal dower.”

The woman left for her brothers’ tents, and when she challenged them to solve the sheikh’s riddle, they laughed and said, “That is simple. Has there ever been anything lighter than a feather, or hotter than pepper, or sweeter than raisins and honey? Go tell Sheikh Ghanim that your brothers were not puzzled by his words.” But along the path back to her own settlement, the sheikh’s wife met her youngest son Diyab. “Ya Yimma, O Mother, where have you been?” he asked her. And she told him about the three words with which his father had tested her brothers. Diyab was curious now to learn their answers, and when he heard them he said, “Lah! Lah! They guessed wrong, for this is the true answer:

There is nothing lighter than gunpowder in the barrel of a gun,

Nothing burns hotter than the lover’s heart at the deathbed of the loved one,

Nothing is sweeter than a bed full of laughing daughters and sons!

“God send you health and happiness, my child,” said his mother, “but do not mention that you have met me.”

Sheikh Ghanim was waiting for her when she reached the tents. “What happened? What did they say?” he asked, and she told him what Diyab had said. “Ah! Let me think awhile!” he said, and strolled between the tents. When he reached the edge of the settlement, he suddenly began to shout out of her quarters, saying, “It cannot be! He was here with me a short time ago!” and her husband said, “I was certain that the three words of the riddle can only be explained by a true Hilali.”

            Another time when the men were gathered round a large wood fire, Sheikh Ghanim said to Diyab, “What if I were to throw you into this fire?” “You would be throwing me into the arms of a fierce adversary, but one that is not unconquerable,” answered Diyab. “What are you saying?” asked the sheikh. “Fire will overpower a man, but it must bow before water,” said Diyab. “and what does water bow before?” “Water bows before a rise in the land.” “And what overcomes a rise?” “A horse!” “and what does a horse yield to?” “His rider!” “And what does the rider yield to?” “To his children, for he loves them as he loves his sight.” “you are right, my son.” Said Ghanim, “go rest now, for tomorrow you must pasture the camels.”

            Next day Diyab led out sixty-six camels. He was sitting and watching his herd when a man rode by on a mare with a pale grey filly following her. How that animal pleased Diyab! As soon as he saw her, he wanted to own her. He asked the man if he would sell the horse. “Yes, you may buy her off me,” said the man. “I’ll give you sixty camels for her,” said Diyab. “You must be lying or making mock of me,” said the man. “Count them and take them with you,” said Diyab. And when the remaining she-camels began to follow the others, he called the man back and said, “Take the rest; then you will have them all.”

When Diyab returned to the encampment with only a grey filly, the tribesmen laughed at him and said, “How foolish is our sheikh’s youngest son!” In the evening his father said, “I hear you have bought a filly. What is she like?” “Oh, she can see a little, and her back can carry a little, and her leg is bent a little,” said Diyab. His father laughed. “She will bring you one hundred and a little,” he said.

Not long afterwards the young horsemen in the tribe met and decided to have a race.” “Let each man wager ten camels,” they said. “We’ll take them six hours’ distance from the camp and hobble them. Then on the following day let’s ride to the place together, each man on his horse. Whoever unhobbles  the camels first shall own them.” Now Diyab had no camels left to wager. But he went crying to his aunt, his father’s sister, that he could not take his place with the men, and she gave him ten camels of her own.

When the men led out their horses for the race, they said, “Where is your horse, Diyab?” “Ride on without me; I’ll follow you soon,” he answered. And they shook their heads and said, “Truly our sheikh’s youngest son is witless.”

When they had spurred their horses and galloped off, Diyab began to saddle his light-colored filly. The slave who was helping mounted her to test the saddle, but before he could seat himself, the horse reared high and threw him to the ground. Now Diyab leaped onto her back, and when he slapped her side she took off with the speed of an ostrich.

Meanwhile the other horses had tired and dropped out except for two. The two horsemen were riding side by side, their well-matched mounts foaming. “why race farther?” they asked one another. “Our horses have proved themselves equals. Let us rest, and when we reach the camels we can divide them between us.” But when they had almost arrived at their goal, they saw a man riding toward them with the wagered animals, one hundred and twenty she-camels, following behind him. “Is that you, O Diyab?” they called. “Aywah!” he shouted. And now their tongues were knotted in wonder and they had nothing to say.

Sheikh Ghanim went to meet his son, and his heart was glad. “I told you your filly would bring you one hundred and a little!” he said. And from that day he made Diyab the sheikh of the Arabs, and the tribesmen were proud to ride behind him.

Arab Folktales: Inea Bushnaq