When the dust-clouds had subsided, we halted under some olive trees, where the Khalifa sat surrounded by male friends and neighbours. Here I dismounted, and saluting first amiable old Sid Fatush, who received me most cordially, I then shook other outstretched hands and received their welcome.
On the open square which I knew so well, were raised camel’s-hair tents for the reception of the numerous guests. Outside these the horses and mules were tethered. No women were visible; they remained in the caves, but hundreds of men moved about, or sat in groups with upraised guns, whilst a swarm of romping boys clustered around them.
Guests were continually arriving; they kissed the Khalifa’s hand, and greeted one another. Many of these dark-eyed, fine-featured men were known to me, and I heard incessantly the salutation of “Salam,” to which the reply is “Salam alikum.” I felt secure and proud of my position as a friend of these mountaineers, and of knowing that, though the only Christian here amongst the “faithful,” I was safe, thanks to the Khalifa’s influence and protection.
Most of the men were clothed in the ordinary white burnous, or the brown toga-like haik, draped about them in picturesque folds; but others, especially the riders and those who intended performing the “powder-play” on foot, had discarded these garments and assumed silken costumes of golden, green, or blue embroidered gala burnouses with wide sleeves. A very few wore the ordinary burnous or the haik over their silk attire.
My good friend Belkassim was the only person present, as far as I could see, in old, worn, or ragged clothes; his upper garment resembled a frock coat. But he had to supervise the horses and mules of the guests, and I saw him hard at work, dragging them about, scolding and dealing blows right and left in his efforts to make room for the numerous animals.
His duties were evidently those of a marshal, and he did not spare the stick with which he made play at times amongst the idle lads who were heedless of his directions. Though very busy, he found time to give me a look and a warm greeting.
The bridegroom, Mohammed, was not visible, neither was he mentioned. According to custom, he kept himself concealed with his closest friends.
Mansur was not at home, having gone to fetch the bride; so Amor was the only one of the Khalifa’s sons who bade me welcome.
I was shown to my quarters in the guest-cave, and our horses were stabled in the cave passage, as on my first visit. A first-rate gala dinner refreshed me; the table being laden with dishes and bowls of well-cooked food, which I relished with the good appetite of a hungry man. The Khalifa himself came to look after me during my meal, followed by an inquisitive mob who crouched round the cave, darkening the entrance.
The onlookers remained silent while the meal lasted, and when it was over were hustled out, and I ordered Hamed to post himself at the door and forbid ingress to each and all, as I desired to change my dress and attire myself in my festal costume—a white linen suit.