"How will you find your camel-man?" asked Chola, when finally the boys came to the great square where the caravans camped. Everywhere were camels and horses and men in strange costumes.
"He said he would be near the great gate," said Nao, as he and Chola crept in and around the big camels and under them, constantly being scolded by the men for getting in their way. Finally Nao spied his friend sitting lazily smoking in the shade of the gateway, while he watched his camels being unloaded.
"Welcome, oh, little friends," said the big, bluff fellow. "I suppose it is no use to ask thee to share my dinner?" he continued, pointing to the big dish of boiled rice, cabbage, and goat's meat which one of his stable boys had just brought him.
The food smelt very good, but Chola and Nao shook their heads. They knew by the blue turban and dress of their new friend that he was a Mohammedan, and they would rather have starved than eaten food with him; but they were quite willing to squat beside him in the dust in true Hindu boy fashion, and listen to his strange tales of the far-away countries which he had visited, as he ate his meal out of the big bowl. They heard how he had come from the great plains of China, across the snow-covered mountains of the north—the great Himalayas, the highest mountains in the world;—and how his camels had waded through snow-drifts up to their necks. He told them marvellous tales of the great cities of Delhi and Lahore, with their marble palaces and beautiful gardens; and of the great rice-fields of Burma. Sometimes he had crossed the great desert going toward the west, and had seen the splendid city of Bombay, and from there had gone on down the coast where the tall palm-trees grow. He and his caravan had crossed India many times, carrying merchandise from one part of the country to another. The camel-man talked on until he had finished eating and was ready for a nap.
"It must be fine fun to ride a camel," said Nao, as he and Chola made their way back to the Bazaar.
"I think it is much nicer to ride a big elephant, as my Uncle Achmed does when he goes about his lumber yards," answered Chola. "But, Nao, the smell of thy friend's dinner has made me hungry. Let us buy some sweetmeats," he continued, darting across the street to a little booth where there were bowls and baskets filled with all kinds of sweet, sticky things to eat that not only Hindu children like, but all the grown-ups as well. When a Hindu wants a real treat, he eats as many sweetmeats as he can.
Just as the boys got to the booth, a big bull buffalo came snorting along. He evidently wanted sweets, too, for he stuck his head under the awning of the little shop and took a big mouthful of preserved fruit from one of the baskets, at the same time upsetting the contents of another basket over the owner of the little shop, who was dozing among his wares.
BUYING SWEETS IN THE BAZAAR.