At The Entrance I
Was Accosted By Several Officials, Dark-Looking Meccans, Of Whom The
Blackest And Plainest Was A Youth Of The Benu Shaybah Family,[FN#9]
[P.207] the sangre-azul of Al-Hijaz.
He held in his hand the huge
silver-gilt padlock of the Ka’abah,[FN#10] and presently taking his seat
upon a kind of wooden press in the left corner of the hall, he
officially inquired my name, nation, and other particulars. The replies
were satisfactory, and the boy Mohammed was authoritatively ordered to
conduct me round the building, and to recite the prayers. I will not
deny that, looking at the windowless walls, the officials at the door,
and the crowd of excited fanatics below—
“And the place death, considering who I was,”[FN#11] my feelings were of
the trapped-rat description, acknowledged by the immortal nephew of his
uncle Perez. This did not, however, prevent my carefully observing the
scene during our long prayers, and making a rough plan with a pencil
upon my white Ihram.
Nothing is more simple than the interior of this celebrated building.
The pavement, which is level with the ground, is composed of slabs of
fine and various coloured marbles, mostly, however, white, disposed
chequerwise. The walls, as far as they can be seen, are of the same
material, but the pieces are irregularly shaped, and many of them are
engraved with long inscriptions in the Suls and other modern
characters. The upper part of the walls, together with the ceiling, at
which it is considered disrespectful to look,[FN#12] are covered with
handsome
[p.208] red damask, flowered over with gold,[FN#13] and tucked up about
six feet high, so as to be removed from pilgrims’ hands.
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