After the gloom and sameness of Moslem society, nothing
could be more gladdening than the unveiled face of a pretty woman. Some
of the guests were undeniably charming brunettes, with the blackest
possible locks, and the brightest conceivable eyes. Only one pretty
girl wore the national costume;[FN#12] yet they all smoked chibuks and
sat upon the Diwans, and, as they entered the room, they kissed with a
sweet simplicity the hands of the priest, and of the other old
gentlemen present.
Among the number of my acquaintances was a Meccan boy, Mohammed
al-Basyuni, from whom I bought the pilgrim-garb called "Al-Ihram" and
the Kafan or shroud, with which the Moslem usually starts upon such a
journey as mine. He, being in his way homewards after a visit to
Constantinople, was most anxious to accompany me in the character of a
"companion." But he had travelled too much to suit me; he had visited
India, he had seen Englishmen, and he had lived with the "Nawab Balu"
of Surat. Moreover, he showed signs of over-wisdom. He had been a
regular visitor, till I cured one of his friends of an ophthalmia,
after which
[p.124]he gave me his address at Meccah, and was seen no more. Haji
Wali described him and his party to be "Nas jarrar" (extractors), and
certainly he had not misjudged them. But the sequel will prove how der
Mensch denkt und Gott lenkt; and as the boy, Mohammed, eventually did
become my companion throughout the Pilgrimage, I will place him before
the reader as summarily as possible.
