Five figures appeared, each carrying a dish which was placed on a table before me, and a pitcher of water was deposited beside me. The meal consisted of soup with lumps of meat highly peppered, a stew of chicken, and an enormous dish of kus-kus, made of barley meal with goat’s flesh, and, finally, honey and bread; this last was of barley meal, dry but well flavoured.
A CAVE DWELLING, MATMATA.
A knife I had with me; but a spoon, that treasure to a European in these regions, was provided. Hamed stood by my side, filled my glass whenever it was empty, and served the dinner. On one side sat Mansur, the Khalifa’s third son, as ordained by their customs and usages. I requested him to join me at dinner. With a graceful motion of his hand to his breast, he bowed his head and begged me to excuse him.
Hamed informed me that honoured guests always dine alone.
On the floor, somewhat aside, sat a row of white figures all staring at me whilst I ate.
A great silence reigned.
This procedure rather disturbed me at first, but one soon gets accustomed to this sort of thing.
Hamed constantly pressed me to eat. I thought it could be of no consequence to him; but discovered later that he was prompted by delicacy of feeling. For when I had concluded my meal, it was his turn, with Mansur and others, to eat the remains. All the scraps of meat, bones, etc. left were then put back into the dishes, and these were carried into the adjoining room where the rest of the men gathered round them; but before doing so, they poured water in a basin and moistened their lips and fingers.
I peeped in on them, and was greeted by the sound of noisy mastication.