” The ancient replied with a dignity that
had no pomposity in it,—“Even as Abu Shawarib—the Father of
Mustachios[FN#6]—behaveth to us, so will we behave to him!” He then arose,
bade us be prepared when the departure-gun sounded, saluted us, and
stalked out of the room, followed by his son, who, under pretext of
dozing, had mentally made an inventory of every article in the room,
ourselves especially included.
When the Badawin disappeared, Shaykh Hamid shook his head, advising me
to give them plenty to eat, and never to allow twenty-four hours to
elapse without dipping hand in the same dish with them, in order that
the party might always be “Malihin,”—on terms of salt.[FN#7] He concluded
[p.54] with a copious lecture upon the villainy of Badawin, and on
their habit of drinking travellers’ water. I was to place the skins on a
camel in front, and not behind; to hang them with their mouths
carefully tied, and turned upwards, contrary to the general practice;
always to keep a good store of liquid, and at night to place it under
the safeguard of the tent.
In the afternoon, Omar Effendi and others dropped in to take leave.
They found me in the midst of preparations, sewing sacks, fitting up a
pipe, patching water-bags, and packing medicines.
