Old Ali began with an irregularity: he declared that age
prevented his assuming the garb, but that, arrived at Meccah, he would
clear himself by an offering.
The wife and daughters of a Turkish pilgrim of our party assumed the
Ihram at the same time as ourselves. They appeared dresse in white
garments; and they had exchanged the Lisam, that coquettish fold of
muslin which veils without concealing the lower part of the face, for a
hideous mask, made of split, dried, and plaited palm-leaves, with two
“bulls’-eyes” for light.[FN#23] I could not help laughing when these strange
figures met my sight, and, to judge from the shaking of their
shoulders, they were not less susceptible to the merriment which they
had caused.
At three P.M. we left Al-Zaribah, travelling towards the South-West,
and a wondrously picturesque scene met the eye. Crowds hurried along,
habited in the pilgrim-garb, whose whiteness contrasted strangely with
their black skins; their newly shaven heads glistening in the sun, and
their long black hair streaming in the wind. The rocks rang with shouts
of Labbayk! Labbayk! At a pass we fell in with the Wahhabis,
accompanying the Baghdad Caravan, screaming “Here am I”; and, guided by a
large loud kettle-drum, they followed in double file the camel of a
standard-bearer, whose green flag bore in huge white letters the
formula of the Moslem creed.