The Doorkeepers Stopped Them With Curses As They Were About To Enter, And All Claimed From Each The Sum Of Five Piastres, Whilst Other Moslems Were Allowed To Enter The Mosque Free.

Unhappy men!

They had lost all the Shiraz swagger, their mustachios dropped pitiably, their eyes would not look any one in the face, and not a head bore a cap stuck upon it crookedly. Whenever an "'Ajami," whatever might be his rank, stood in the way of an Arab or a Turk, he was rudely thrust aside, with abuse muttered loud enough to be heard by all around. All eyes followed them as they went through the ceremonies of Ziyarat, especially as they approached the tombs of Abu Bakr and Omar,-which every man is bound to defile if he can,-and the supposed place of Fatimah's burial. Here they stood in parties, after praying before the Prophet's window: one read from a book the pathetic tale of the Lady's life, sorrows, and

[p.435]mourning death, whilst the others listened to him with breathless attention. Sometimes their emotion was too strong to be repressed. "Ay Fatimah! Ay Muzlumah! Way! way!-O Fatimah! O thou injured one! Alas! alas!" burst involuntarily from their lips, despite the danger of such exclamations; tears trickled down their hairy cheeks, and their brawny bosoms heaved with sobs. A strange sight it was to see rugged fellows, mountaineers perhaps, or the fierce Iliyat of the plains, sometimes weeping silently like children, sometimes shrieking like hysteric girls, and utterly careless to conceal a grief so coarse and grisly, at the same time so true and real, that I knew not how to behold it. Then the Satanic scowls with which they passed by, or pretended to pray at, the hated Omar's tomb! With what curses their hearts are belying those mouths full of blessings! How they are internally canonising Fayruz-the Persian slave who stabbed Omar in the Mosque-and praying for his eternal happiness in the presence of the murdered man! Sticks and stones, however, and not unfrequently the knife and the sabre, have taught them the hard lesson of disciplining their feelings; and nothing but a furious contraction of the brow, a roll of the eye, intensely vicious, and a twitching of the muscles about the region of the mouth, denote the wild storm of wrath within. They generally, too, manage to discharge some part of their passion in words. "Hail Omar, thou hog!" exclaims some fanatic Madani as he passes by the heretic-a demand more outraging than requiring a red-hot, black-north Protestant to bless the Pope. "O Allah! hell him!" meekly responds the Persian, changing the benediction to a curse most intelligible to, and most delicious in, his fellows' ears.[FN#30]

[p.436]An evening hour in the steamy heat of the Harim was equal to half a dozen afternoons; and I left it resolved never to revisit it till the Hajj departed from Al-Madinah. It was only prudent not to see much of the 'Ajamis; and as I did so somewhat ostentatiously, my companions discovered that the Shaykh Abdullah, having slain many of those heretics in some war or other, was avoiding them to escape retaliation.

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