The door closed behind me, and soon I was sleeping as quietly and peacefully in the caves of the Matmata mountains as I should in my own bed at home.
CHAPTER V
Return to Gabés
Hamed woke me at sunrise. I was soon dressed, my saddle-bags packed and coffee heated.
HOLD UP!
The horses had been led out from their underground stable. Outside the dwelling I met the Khalifa, coming evidently fresh from his devotions as he still grasped his rosary. Smiling, he held out his hand to take leave bidding me “Farewell till to-morrow evening.”
As we rode over the hill, a rider galloped up and took the lead; it was Belkassim, the Khalifa’s relative, who was to show me the way. I followed him, and Hamed became the arrière garde.
There are no springs or wells in these regions; water, therefore, is collected in deep tanks. By one of these was a woman filling her pitcher.
The rays of the rising sun gleamed on Belkassim’s white burnous and the silver-inlaid gun which lay across his saddle-bow, on the tips of the palm trees, on the mountain peaks, and on the woman at the cistern. Snatching a rapid glance I saw she was pretty, but she at once turned her back; so I could only admire her slender feet and silver anklets as she placed the pitcher on the side of the tank and drew her blue-striped kerchief over her head.