The Untested Warrior

One year I was traveling from Balkh to Bamiyan, and the road was full of danger from bandits. A young man came along to escort me: a shield fighter, a slinger, a warrior of tremendous strength. It would take ten strong men to string his bow, and no strongman on earth could throw him to the ground. Yet, as you know, he was pampered and raised in the shade, not seasoned by the world or by travel. The thunder of the warriors' war drums had never reached his ears, nor had he seen the lightning of the horsemen's swords. He had never fallen captive into an enemy's hands, nor had a rain of arrows ever poured down around him. As it happened, this young man and I ran along together, one after the other. Every old wall he came upon, he would knock down with the strength of his arms; every huge tree he saw, he would tear up by the roots with the power of his grip, and boasting, he would say: Where is the elephant, to see the shoulders and arms of these heroes? Where is the lion, to see the fists and grip of these men? We were in this state when two Indians raised their heads from behind a rock and set out to kill us. One held a stick, the other carried a clod-breaking mallet under his arm. I said to the young man: what are you waiting for? Show us the manhood and strength you have, for the enemy has walked to his own grave on his own feet. I saw the bow and arrow drop from the young man's hands, and a trembling seize his very bones. Not everyone who can split a hair with an arrow, piercing armor, can hold his ground on the day the warriors charge. We saw no choice but to leave behind our gear, weapons, and clothes, and to carry our lives out safely. Send the experienced man for heavy tasks, for he can drag a raging lion down under the loop of his lasso. A young man, however thick-necked and elephant-bodied he may be, in battle with the enemy will fall apart from sheer terror. Combat is clear to the one who has tested the battlefield, just as a point of religious law is clear to the scholar.