"Thank goodness," said Edwards, sitting on his saddle-bags, which had been brought into the tent, "that they have given us a place to ourselves. Now let us hold a mass meeting of two, and discuss the whole situation."
"What situation?" I asked.
"Why, yours and mine," said he.
"Right you are," said I. "So far I think we have done pretty well. We have discovered old Faris, and have become his honoured guests. We have only got to persuade him to tell us about the Golden Girdle, and then we shall be as right as rain."
"All very nice," said Edwards. "But suppose it does not come off, what is going to happen? We are miles and miles from anywhere."
"Oh, we will get along. Don't you fret," I replied. "Besides, we are seeing desert life, living with real Bedouins, and all that sort of thing. Do be a bit romantic. But, to be serious, I will take on our host to-night, if we can make him at all communicative; and if we fail to get anything out of him, we will take an affectionate farewell in the morning, and ride back to Hillah. I daresay we are not more than fifty miles away."
"How shall you start the subject?" asked my companion.
"That is the difficulty," said I. "I expect the best way will be to mention Shahzadi and her shoe, and see how the old man takes it."
So we continued to talk and puff at our pipes, until at last Sedjur came and told us that supper was ready. We found that one or two of the headmen of the tribe had been invited to meet us, and after going through the usual ceremonial introductions, we settled down to our meal, Edwards being placed on the right hand of the sheik, I on the left, and Sedjur on the other side of Edwards. It was our first Bedouin feast, and the novelty of everything interested us considerably. A huge copper bowl was brought in and placed in front of us, its steaming contents consisting of a kind of porridge in which lumps of meat and vegetables, some hard-boiled eggs, and dates were concealed. Into this each member of the party plunged his hand, and after the manner of dipping in a bran-pie, brought out a prize in the shape of something to eat. Hunger and the desire to appear au fait in the customs of the desert enabled Edwards and myself to do fair justice to the meal, even without spoons, knives, or forks. Little conversation was indulged in while the eating was in progress, but at length the dish, replenished again and again, had satisfied everyone, and at a signal from Faris we rose, washed our hands, and went and sat outside, to smoke our pipes and chat in the cool evening air.
While at supper I had made a study of our host, and although apparently a reserved and silent man, his quiet dignity and courteous manner made a great impression on me. In appearance he was tall—far above the average Arab height, spare in form, but with broad, square shoulders, which made his flowing robes hang loosely from his body. He was a fair man, and his brown beard as yet showed few white hairs, though his handsome face was weather-beaten, and bore more than one tell-tale scar. His eyes were remarkable, and their actual colour impossible to describe; at times they were the eyes of an eagle—almost golden red, wide open and piercing; then, while he was speaking, they would suddenly change to the soft liquid eyes of a deer, full of tenderness and compassion. As I learned later, the sheik's whole character was discoverable from a study of his eyes.