Yusef's success was beyond his hopes. The medicine which he gave
afforded speedy relief from pain, and within an hour the young Bedouin
had sunk into a deep and refreshing sleep. His slumber lasted long,
and he awoke quite free from fever, though of course some days elapsed
before his strength was fully restored.
Great was the gratitude of Azim, the Sheik, for the cure of his only
son; and great was the admiration of the simple Bedouins for the skill
of the wondrous hakeem. Yusef soon had plenty of patients. The sons
of the desert now looked upon the poor deserted stranger as one sent to
them by heaven; and Yusef himself felt that his own plans had been
defeated, his own course changed by wisdom and love. He had intended,
as a medical missionary, to fix his abode in some Arabian town: he had
been directed instead to the tents of the Bedouin Arabs. The wild
tribe soon learned to reverence and love him, and listen to his words.
Azim supplied him with a tent, a horse, a rich striped mantle, and all
that the Syrian's wants required.
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