After partial destruction by fire, the Ka'bah had been badly restored. The roof fell in, and thieves took advantage of the breach to get into the Sanctuary and carry off part of the treasure, constituted by pilgrims' offerings. Fresh repairs were urgently needed; but as bad luck would have it, the walls were so dilapidated that they could no longer bear the least weight. There was nothing to be done but to raze them to the ground. If, however, the idea of rebuilding such a revered monument met with no objection, its demolition seemed to be the most dangerous sacrilege imaginable. After much hesitation, finally dispelled by a series of obvious miracles, the Quraish men came to the resolution of tearing down the old walls of which the remains were in heaps on the ground. Then, as the ancient foundations were formed of blocks of stone admirably fitting one into the other, each clan of the Quraish tribe undertook part of the task of rebuilding. The workers, actuated by the zeal that always arises from rivality, soon built up the walls to the height at which the famous Black Stone, "al-Hajaru'l-Aswad," should be fixed. Who was to have the honour of putting the precious relic back in its place? There was not the slightest chance of coming to an agreement on this point, and, in consequence of each party pleading the precedence of the purest noble descent or the greatest merit, the discussion grew so heated that most tragical results were to be feared. Under the influence of jealousy, groups were formed and stood face to face. The Bani Abed-Dar, joining the Bani Adiyy bin Kab, brought forth a bowl filled with blood, plunging their hands therein, and swearing they would die sooner than relinquish the privilege in anyone else's favour, because they thought it devolved upon them by right. For four days and four nights, the adversaries, with threatening mien, remained on the look-out, absorbed in the task of vigilantly watching each other. At last, Abu-Ummayah, their senior, spoke out, saying: 'There will come a time when all this must finish and this is what I propose: name as umpire the first man who cometh into our midst, and let him settle the dispute that destroyeth our union.' The advice given was not displeasing to the stubborn rivals and they finally agreed to follow it. It happened then, at that very moment, that they saw coming towards them a young man about thirty years of age. They recognised him as "Al-Amin" (The Reliable); in other words: Mohammad. Nothing could have been more fortunate, and all being as of one mind on this point, they accepted him as arbitrator at once, submitting the cause of their conflict to his judgment. When they terminated explaining the case, Mohammad, instead of hearkening to their respective claims, only said: 'Bring a mantle and spread it out on the ground.'