The
wells are in a Fiumara, as usual, about two miles distant from the
halting-place, and the soldiers, regular as well as irregular, occupied
the water and exacted hard coin in exchange for it. The men are not to
blame; they would die of starvation but for this resource. The boy
Mohammed had been engaged in several quarrels; but after
[p.67] snapping his pistol at a Persian pilgrim’s head, he came forth
triumphant with two skins of sweetish water, for which we paid ten
piastres. He was in his glory. There were many Meccans in the Caravan,
among them his elder brother and several friends: the Sharif Zayd had
sent, he said, to ask why he did not travel with his compatriots. That
evening he drank so copiously of clarified butter, and ate dates mashed
with flour and other abominations to such an extent, that at night he
prepared to give up the ghost.
We passed a pleasant hour or two before sleeping. I began to like the
old Shaykh Mas’ud, who, seeing it, entertained me with his genealogy, his
battles, and his family affairs. The rest of the party could not
prevent expressing contempt when they heard me putting frequent
questions about torrents, hills, Badawin, and the directions of places.
“Let the Father of Moustachios ask and learn,” said the old man; “he is
friendly with the Badawin,[FN#14] and knows better than you all.” This
reproof was intended to be bitter as the poet’s satire,—
“All fools have still an itching to deride,
And fain would be upon the laughing side.”
It called forth, however[,] another burst of merriment, for the jeerers
remembered my nickname to have belonged to that pestilent heretic, Sa’ud
the Wahhabi.
