"It is nothing," said the boy; "nothing at all. I had to hold fast
to the oar, the skin stuck to it, and that made my hands bleed."
The men gaze on him admiringly, and whisper to each other: "He is a
hero, if he is only ten years old." And they respectfully step back,
and allow the boy to pass on up the rocky path that leads to
Cavalla.
CHAPTER II
MOTHER AND S0N.
"Here he is again, Sitta Khadra. I bring your son," said Toussoun
Aga, as he entered, with the boy, the hut into which some kind-
hearted women had brought Mohammed's mother. "Scold the naughty
youth well, and tell him what anxiety he has caused us all."
Sitta Khadra, however, did not scold him, but only extended her open
arms, drew her son to her bosom with a joyous cry, and kissed him
tenderly. Toussoun gazed smilingly at the two, and then noiselessly
left the hut.
"It is best to leave them alone, that Allah only may hear what the
mother says to her son," he murmured, as he returned to his own hut,
where he industriously began to apply himself to making fishing-
nets, with which occupation he earned his livelihood.
Now that Mohammed was left alone with his mother, the boy who was
always so reserved and timid in the presence of others, knelt down
before her, and entreated her tenderly not to be angry with him for
having made her anxious.
"But you see, mother, it had to be done," said he, excitedly and
imploringly at the same time, "else they would have ridiculed me
again as they so often do.
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