Thus Crowded Together, With A
Scarcity Of Provisions, A Want Of Water, And No Possibility Of
Cleanliness, With Clothes That
Have been unwashed for weeks or
months, in a camp of dirty pilgrims, without any attempt at
drainage, an accumulation
Of filth takes place that generates
either cholera or typhus; the latter, in its most malignant form,
appears as the dreaded "plague." Should such an epidemic attack
the mass of pilgrims debilitated by the want of nourishing food,
and exhausted by their fatiguing march, it runs riot like a fire
among combustibles, and the loss of life is terrific. The
survivors radiate from this common centre, upon their return to
their respective homes, to which they carry the seeds of the
pestilence to germinate upon new soils in different countries.
Doubtless the clothes of the dead furnish materials for
innumerable holy relics as vestiges of the wardrobe of the
Prophet; these are disseminated by the pilgrims throughout all
countries, pregnant with disease; and, being brought into
personal contact with hosts of true believers, Pandora's box
could not be more fatal.
Not only are relics upon a pocket scale conveyed by pilgrims, and
reverenced by the Arabs, but the body of any Faky, who in
lifetime was considered extra holy, is brought from a great
distance to be interred in some particular spot. In countries
where a tree is a rarity, a plank for a coffin is unknown; thus
the reverend Faky, who may have died of typhus, is wrapped in
cloths and packed in a mat.
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