Abū Bakr replied, “No.”

The youth said, “Then are you descended from ʿAmr ibn ʿAbd Manāf—Hāshim who crumbled tharīd for his people when the men of Mecca were gaunt with hunger? About him the poet recites:

ʿAmr the Exalted broke the broth-soaked bread for his clan
while Mecca’s men were lean and famished.
For him the two caravans were ordained alike—
the winter journey and the summer expedition.
Quraysh was but an unbroken egg; it cracked,
and the purest yolk was kept for ʿAbd Manāf:
lavish givers—no giver known but they—
crying out, “Come, all guests, draw near!”
They strike the ram till its white fat flashes,
and guard the womenfolk with flashing swords.
By God, if you had lodged within their quarter
they would have shielded you from want and shame.”

Abū Bakr said, “No.”

The youth continued, “Then are you of ʿAbd al-Muṭṭalib, Shayba al-Ḥamd—the master of Mecca’s caravan, the one who fed the birds of the sky and the beasts and predators of the wilderness, whose face shone like a moon gleaming on the darkest night?”

He answered, “No.”

“Are you among the people responsible for the Ifāḍah?”
“No.”

“Among the Custodians of the Kaʿbah’s door (ḥijābah)?”
“No.”

“Among the Council of Nadwah?”
“No.”

“Among those who provide water to the pilgrims (siqāyah)?”
“No.”

“Among those who underwrite the pilgrims’ provisions (rifādah)?”
“No.”

“Among those who lead the crowds down from ʿArafāt?”
“No.”

At that, Abū Bakr—may Allah be pleased with him—pulled the rein of his she-camel from the youth’s hand. The young man then chanted:

One flood-barrier has struck another that drives it back;
now it presses upon it, now it splits it apart.

He added, “By Allah, O man of Quraysh, had you stood your ground I would have proved that you belong to the outskirts of Quraysh, and not to—”