Then, going down to the shore where the gravel was clean, he kneeled down to drink, carrying the water to his mouth in his curled up palm. The camel, bending his long neck, drank with slow, regular draughts. The she-ass, too, drank from the stream, while the monkey, imitating the man, made a cup of her hands, which were violet coloured like unripe India figs.
“Hu, Barbara!” The camel heard and ceased to drink. The water dripped unheeded from his mouth onto his chest; his white gums and yellowish teeth showed between his open lips.
Through the path marked across the wood by the people of the sea, the little group proceeded on its way. The sun was setting when they reached the Arsenale of Rampigna. Turlendana asked of a sailor who was walking beside the brick parapet:
“Is that Pescara?”
The sailor, astonished at the sight of the strange beasts, answered Turlendana’s question:
“It is that,” and left his work to follow the stranger.
The sailor was soon joined by others. Soon a crowd of curious people had gathered and were following Turlendana, who went calmly on his way, unmindful of the comments of the people. When they reached the boat-bridge, the camel refused to pass over.
“Hu, Barbara! Hu, hu!” Turlendana cried impatiently, urging him on, and shaking the rope of the halter by which he led the animal. But Barbara obstinately lay down upon the ground, and stretched his head out in the dust very comfortable, showing no intention of moving.
The people jesting gathered about, having overcome their first amazement, and cried in a chorus:
“Barbara! Barbara!”