The combination was so strange that Max was inclined to believe the rider was some monomaniac, or, in modern parlance, a crank.
Ibrahim, stepping up to the rider, and in good Arabic, asked who he was, and whither he was going.
The rider looked at the young Persian some minutes before answering, giving Max an opportunity to look at the people who composed the caravan.
Some thirty men, dressed like the leader, save that they had not the sacred carpet with the double symbols, rode as many camels.
With them were at least twenty women, their faces covered so that the eye of man could not invade the sanctity of the countenance, which Oriental law and custom declared to be sacred to the husband alone.
“I am Mohammed!” said the leader, when his examination of Ibrahim’s features was completed.
“Mohammed!” repeated Ibrahim.
“I am Mohammed, and am of the family of the faithful.”
“And whither wilt thou go?”
“The sun will cast my shadow to the north as I journey to the south.”