so I caught up with one of them and loosed an arrow at him, crying, “Take that—from the son of al-Akwaʿ!” He shouted back, “May my mother lose me— is that al-Akwaʿ at daybreak?” “Yes, enemy of your own soul,” I replied. The man I had struck was indeed targeted in the early morning; I followed up with a second shot, so that two arrows were now lodged in him.

They abandoned two horses, which I seized and led to the Messenger of Allah ﷺ, who was still at the watering-place from which I had driven them off—Dhu Qarad. I found the Prophet of Allah ﷺ with five hundred men, and Bilal had slaughtered a camel from the spoils and was roasting its meat for the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.

I said, “O Messenger of Allah, allow me to choose one hundred of your Companions and pursue the unbelievers under cover of darkness; I will leave none of them to bring back news.”

He asked, “Would you really do that, Salama?”

“Yes, by Him who has honored you,” I answered.

The Messenger of Allah ﷺ laughed until I could see his molars gleaming in the firelight, then said, “Right now they are being entertained in the territory of Ghatafan.”

A man from Ghatafan arrived and reported, “They passed by So-and-so of Ghatafan, and he slaughtered a camel for them. But as they began to skin it, they saw a cloud of dust approaching; they left it and bolted in panic.”

When morning came, the Messenger of Allah ﷺ declared, “The best of our horsemen today is Abu Qatadah, and the best of our foot soldiers is Salama.” He allotted me the share of both a horseman and a foot soldier, and on the return journey to Medina he let me ride pillion behind him on al-ʿAdbaʾ.

When Medina was only about the time of mid-morning away, there was among us an Ansari who was never out-raced. He began calling, “Who will race me? Who will race me?” repeating it. I said to him, “Will you not honour a nobleman and respect a man of rank?” He replied, “Not unless it is the Messenger of Allah ﷺ.”

I said, “O Messenger of Allah, may my father and mother be sacrificed for you—permit me to race him.” He said, “If you wish.”

“I am going, then,” I said. The Ansari sprang from his mount, and I folded my legs and vaulted off the she-camel. I let him get a lead of a rise or two—meaning I saved my strength—then sprinted, caught up with him, and tapped him between the shoulders with my hand. “By Allah, I have beaten you,” I said. He laughed and said,