Some men have left their skins behind.[FN#25]”
[p.211] All pilgrims do not enter the Ka’abah[FN#26]; and many refuse to
do so for religious reasons. Omar Effendi, for instance, who never
missed a pilgrimage, had never seen the interior.[FN#27] Those who
tread the hallowed floor are bound, among many other things, never
again to walk barefooted, to take up fire with the fingers, or to tell
lies. Most really conscientious men cannot afford the luxuries of
slippers, tongs, and truth. So thought Thomas, when offered the apple
which would give him the tongue which cannot lie:—
“‘My tongue is mine ain,’ true Thomas said.
‘A gudely gift ye wad gie to me!
I neither dought to buy nor sell
At fair or tryst, where I may be,
I dought neither speak to prince or peer,
Nor ask of grace from fair ladye!’”
Amongst the Hindus I have met with men who have proceeded upon a
pilgrimage to Dwarka, and yet who would not receive the brand of the
god, because lying would then be forbidden to them. A confidential
servant of a friend in Bombay naïvely declared that he had not been
marked, as the act would have ruined him. There is a sad truth in what
he said: Lying to the Oriental is meat and drink, and the roof that
shelters him.
The Ka’abah had been dressed in her new attire when we entered.[FN#28]
The covering, however, instead of being
[p.212] secured at the bottom to the metal rings in the basement, was
tucked up by ropes from the roof, and depended over each face in two
long tongues.