Story Hour Readings: Seventh Year. E. C. Hartwell
with various legends and myths, and last of all with the
story of the creation.
He told his wondering listeners how in the beginning
the solid earth on which they lived was not solid at all, 25
but a mere bank of fog. "The Great Spirit," said he,
"thrust his finger into the bank of fog and began slowly
describing a circle in its midst, increasing the speed gradually
until the fog went whirling round his finger so rapidly
that it was transformed into a glowing ball of fire. Then
the Creative Spirit hurled the fiery ball from his hand, and 5
it shot through the universe, burning its way through other
banks of fog and condensing them into rain, which fell
in great floods, cooling the surface of the immense ball.
"Flames then bursting from the interior through the
cooled outer crust, threw up the hills and mountain ranges 10
and made the beautiful fertile valleys. In the flood of rain
that followed this fiery upheaval, the substance that
cooled very quickly formed granite, that which cooled
less rapidly became copper, the next in degree cooled down
into silver, and the last became gold. But the most beautiful 15
substance of all, the diamond, was formed by the first
beams of sunlight condensed on the earth's surface.
"A drop of sunlight the size of my thumb," said the
priest, holding up his hand, "is worth more than mines of
gold. With one such drop," he continued, turning to Ali 20
Hafed, "you could buy many farms like yours; with a
handful you could buy a province; and with a mine of
diamonds you could purchase a whole kingdom."
The company parted for the night, and Ali Hafed went
to bed, but not to sleep. All night long he tossed restlessly 25
from side to side, thinking, planning, scheming, how he
could secure some diamonds. The demon of discontent
had entered his soul, and the blessings and advantages
which he possessed in such abundance seemed as by some
malicious magic to have vanished utterly. Although his 30
wife and children loved him as before—although his
farm, his orchards, his flocks and herds, were as real and
prosperous as they had ever been—yet the last words of
the priest, which kept ringing in his ears, turned his content
into vague longings and blinded him to all that had hitherto
made him happy.
Before dawn next morning the farmer, full of his purpose, 5
was astir. Rousing the priest, he eagerly inquired
if he could direct him to a mine of diamonds.
"A mine of diamonds!" echoed the astonished priest.
"What do you, who already have so much to be grateful
for, want with diamonds?" 10
"I wish to be rich and place my children on thrones."
"All you have to do, then," said the Buddhist, "is to
go and search until you find them."
"But where shall I go?" questioned the infatuated man.
"Go anywhere," was the vague reply; "north, south, 15
east, or west—anywhere."
"But how shall I know the place?" asked the farmer.
"When you find a river running over white sands between
high mountain ranges, in these white sands you will find
diamonds. There are many such rivers and many mines 20
of diamonds waiting to be discovered. All you have to do
is start out and go somewhere—" and he waved his hand—"away,
away!"
Ali Hafed's mind was fully made up. "I will no longer,"
he thought, "remain on a wretched farm, toiling day in and 25
day out for a mere subsistence, when acres of diamonds—untold
wealth—may be had by him who is bold enough
to seek them."
He sold his farm for less than half its value. Then,
after putting his young family under the care of a neighbor, 30
he set out on his quest—a quest that was to cover many
years and lands.
With high hopes and the coveted diamond mines beckoning
in the far distance, Ali Hafed began his wanderings.
During the first few weeks his spirits did not flag, nor did
his feet grow weary. On and on he tramped, until he
came to the Mountains of the Moon, beyond the bounds 5
of Arabia. Weeks stretched into months, and the wanderer
often looked regretfully in the direction of his once-happy
home. Still no gleam of waters glinting over white
sands greeted his eyes. But on he went, into Egypt,
through Palestine and other eastern lands, always looking 10
for the treasure he still hoped to find.
At last, after years of fruitless search, during which he
had wandered north and south, east and west, hope left
him. All his money was spent. He was starving and
almost naked, and the diamonds—which had lured him 15
away from all that made life dear—where were they?
Poor Ali Hafed never knew. He died by the wayside,
never dreaming that the wealth for which he had sacrificed
happiness and life might have been his had he remained
at home. 20
"Here is a diamond! here is a diamond! Has Ali Hafed
returned?" shouted an excited voice.
The speaker, no other than our old acquaintance, the
Buddhist priest, was standing in the same room where
years before he had told poor Ali Hafed how the world was 25
made and where diamonds were to be found.
"No, Ali Hafed has not returned," quietly answered his
successor. "Neither is that which you hold in your hand
a diamond. It is but a pretty black pebble I picked up
in my garden." 30
"I tell you," said the priest excitedly, "this is a genuine
diamond. I know one when I see it. Tell me how and
where you found it."
"One day," replied the farmer slowly, "having led my
camel into the garden to drink, I noticed, as he put his