[P.222] which, at the Muna market-prices, these unfortunates could ill
afford.
When the moon arose the boy Mohammed and I walked out into the town,
performed our second lapidation,[FN#4] and visited the coffee-houses.
The shops were closed early, but business was transacted in places of
public resort till midnight. We entered the houses of numerous
acquaintances, who accosted my companion, and were hospitably welcomed
with pipes and coffee. The first question always was, “Who is this
pilgrim?” and more than once the reply, “An Afghan,” elicited the language of
my own country, which I could no longer speak. Of this phenomenon,
however, nothing was thought: many Afghans settled in India know not a
word of Pushtu, and even above the Passes many of the townspeople are
imperfectly
[p.223] acquainted with it. The Meccans in consequence of their
extensive intercourse with strangers and habits of travelling, are
admirable conversational linguists. They speak Arabic remarkably well,
and with a volubility surpassing the most lively of our continental
nations. Persian, Turkish, and Hindustani are generally known: and the
Mutawwifs, who devote themselves to various races of pilgrims, soon
become masters of many languages.
Returning homewards, we were called to a spot by the clapping of
hands[FN#5] and the loud sound of song. We found a crowd of Badawin
surrounding a group engaged in their favourite occupation of dancing.
The performance is wild in the extreme, resembling rather the hopping
of bears than the inspirations of Terpischore. The bystanders joined in
the song; an interminable recitative, as usual, in the minor key,
and—Orientals are admirable timists—it sounded like one voice. The refrain
appeared to be—
“La Yayha! La Yayha!”
to which no one could assign a meaning. At other times they sang
something intelligible. For instance:—
[Arabic]
That is to say,—
“On the Great Festival-day at Muna I saw my lord.
I am a stranger amongst you, therefore pity me!”
This couplet may have, like the puerilities of certain modern and
European poets, an abstruse and mystical
[p.224] meaning, to be discovered when the Arabs learn to write erudite
essays upon nursery rhymes. The style of saltation, called Rufayah,
rivalled the song. The dancers raised both arms above their heads,
brandishing a dagger, pistol, or some other small weapon. They followed
each other by hops, on one or both feet, sometimes indulging in the
most demented leaps; whilst the bystanders clapped with their palms a
more enlivening measure. This I was told is especially their war-dance.
They have other forms, which my eyes were not fated to see. Amongst the
Badawin of Al-Hijaz, unlike the Somali and other African races, the
sexes never mingle: the girls may dance together, but it would be
disgraceful to perform in the company of men.
After so much excitement we retired to rest, and slept soundly.
