In the meantime I walked down the mountain side, partly to look about me, partly to allow my followers time to fight out matters with the natives.
The sun had just set as I seated myself on a stone and looked up to the village above me; in the gathering darkness it showed as a massive black pile. On the terraces outside I could distinguish dark figures engaged in their evening orisons. They bowed frequently and kissed the ground, and then lay prostrate for some moments, deep in prayer.
The dogs around me barked, and I could hear the hammering in of the tent pegs, as also voices in discussion above me. Near me was a new grave—perhaps of that very day; it was covered with stones, and in the middle was stuck a bit of stick with a green rag attached to it, to scare jackals and deter them from digging up the body.
Presently our horses were led down the hill by Hamed, and watered at one of the tanks. As he passed he confided to me that Belkassim had managed his business so well that all was now in order. The latter had declared that I was not a Frenchman, but a stranger from another land, a friend of the Khalifa and of the tribe.
This, it appeared, had changed the attitude of the Zarauar, for, when I soon after returned to the town, several men came forward and offered me another dwelling which, after inspection, I accepted. I also granted the permission they asked to strike the tent.
The dwelling in question evidently belonged to someone practised in carpentry, for in the corners lay bits of wood, knives, axes, etc.
The ceiling was of palm stems, and on the stone walls hung a quantity of platters, bowls, trays, and cooking-pots. Lighting a candle I stood it on a plank, and threw myself on my rugs with my saddle under my head, and fancied myself the owner.
It was long before any food arrived, but when it did it was excellent. Whilst I ate, a knot of people stood at the open door and watched me. I chatted with them, and in the end we became ostensibly good friends, especially after I had distributed some cigarettes.
The public retired when the bowls and trays were carried out, and I applied myself to writing. That being done I rolled myself in my burnous and went to sleep. When I had slept but a short time I was awakened by the sound of the yard gate rattling. Our horses, which stood in the gateway, were evidently disturbed. Then I heard a light footfall on the pavement outside, and a sound as of someone breathing near my door, and a few minutes after a fumbling at the door handle. This I could not stand. Springing up I quickly struck a match and opened the door. There, with its head to my nose and breathing in my face, stood a camel; and behind it another.
Thank goodness, it was nothing worse.