There!” (Another Plunge)—“Put Thy Beard Out Of The Other Opening,
And Allah Will Make It Easy To Us.” In The Ecstasy Of Fear My Tormentor
Turned His Face, As He Was Bidden, Towards The Camel’S Head.
A second
halt ensued, when I looked out of the aperture in rear, and made a
rough drawing of the Mountain of Mercy.
At the Akhshabayn, double lines of camels, bristling with litters,
clashed with a shock more noisy than the meeting of torrents. It was
already dark: no man knew what he was doing. The guns roared their
brazen notes, re-echoed far and wide by the harsh voices of the stony
hills. A shower of rockets bursting in the air threw into still greater
confusion the timorous mob of women and children. At the same time
martial music rose from the masses of Nizam and the stouter-hearted
pilgrims were not sparing of their Labbayk[FN#6] and “id kum
Mubarak[FN#7]”—“May your Festival be happy!”
After the pass of the Two Rugged Hills, the road widened, and old Ali,
who, during the bumping, had been in a silent convulsion of terror,
recovered speech and spirits. This change he evidenced by beginning to
be troublesome once more. Again I resolved to be his equal. Exclaiming,
“My eyes are yellow with hunger!” I seized a pot full of savoury meat which
the old man had previously stored for supper, and, without further
preamble, began to eat it greedily, at the same time ready to shout
with laughter at the mumbling and grumbling sounds that proceeded from
the darkness of the litter.
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