PERSIAN PILGRIMS FROM TABRIZ, HAVING TEA ON BOARD THE STEAMER.
Then out once more into the plain, weltering in the sunshine, to stand, bare-headed and with naked feet, until the sun should sink behind the horizon....
The Egyptian Mahmil had already passed on to its appointed place on the mountainside; but, fortunately, we were not too late to see the passing of its Syrian rival which, draped in its covering of gold and green, now threaded its way across the plain. The Mahmil headed by a dozen led horses of the purest Arabian strain, all richly caparisoned with embroidered cashmere shawls, was surrounded by a squadron of horsemen and camel-riders; while immediately in front of the prancing Arabs, came heralds in white headgear and red coats, bearing silver batons in their hands. And thus the green badge of Syria moved on to its allotted place on the skirts of the Mountain of Mercy.
Hardly had it reached its destination, than the band of the Sherífian procession crashed out a march: and soon afterwards the cavalcade drew near. A score or two of men on foot cleared the course, making vigorous use of the long staves they carried in their hands. A number of mace-bearers, who came next, were followed in turn by a regiment of Sherífian cavalry, barbarously dressed and gallantly mounted, each man prepossessing the spectator in his favour. Even more popular was the appearance of the magnificent body of men which next excited our admiration. It was a staff of Arab chieftains, the pick of the country, riding on mettlesome thoroughbreds, and combining in their persons all the chivalry and the dash of their indomitable race. Then a blaze of crimson-red—the Sherífian state colour: this struck my eye on the flowing saddle-cloths of the led horses of His Holiness, the Sheríf of Mecca, who, meekly riding on a white mule, quite alone in the line, was clad, like the poorest of the poor among the pilgrims, in Ihrám. Behind him walked his courtiers and the members of his Household, while a crowd of Bedouin Sheykhs on horseback or on camels brought up the rear.
When the cavalcade was stationed near the Mahmils, guns were fired again and again to announce that the sermon was about to begin. Then, amid the sighs and sobs and tears of that vast congregation, the Kazi of Mecca, sitting on a dromedary, began to preach, or (perhaps more correctly) to pray. Speaking in Arabic verse, each line being repeated about a dozen times by the pilgrims, he intoned the rhythmic psalm in a deep but ringing voice. The opening passages ran as follows:—
Thou, O Lord, no mate possessest:
Thou, in truth, the King of kings!
I am here for Thee—for Thee:
I am here with praise for Thee.
Thou no compeer hast, O Allah!