We are told that in the province of Káshán in Persia the people are very peace-loving, and so gentle are they that violence of any kind is enough to make them very frightened.
One day Bahá’u’lláh was making a journey and with Him was a Káshi, as these people are called. They were riding along the road in the dark, their donkeys going as fast as they could to reach the place where they were going to stay for the night. When the place was reached, they cast themselves down and slept, for the journey had been long and they were very tired.
Next morning when the Káshi awoke, he saw that the donkey on which he had been riding was saddled with a tiger skin. So timid was he that the thought of riding on a tiger skin made him very much afraid, and he would not ride on the donkey again but chose another instead.
When Bahá’u’lláh and the Káshi resumed their journey, news was brought to them that several hundred men were coming to kill them, for as you know, Bahá’u’lláh had a great many enemies. The Káshi was terribly afraid, but Bahá’u’lláh told him to buckle a large sword round his waist.
"Who, me?" answered the Káshi, shaking with fear,
"Yes, you, My friend,’’ answered Bahá’u’lláh.
So, although he was very afraid, he buckled on a large sword for who could disobey such a Master?
The Káshi was very small and the sword very long. When he tried to walk he nearly fell down, for the long sword kept getting between his legs.
Soon the enemy came in sight, shouting fierce cries and waving their swords and guns.
"What now, Master?" asked the little man, still shaking with fear.
"You must go and defeat them," he was told.