“’Tis best for the horse to mate with the mare and the white with the white,” he said, “for the mule is but a beast of burden, to which is apportioned a grievous fare of blows, and the half-caste is but a thing of scorn even to the pure-bred donkey-boy of the cities.”
Al-Asad stopped his singing and stared towards the west, as Bowlegs made answer as best he could for the sounds which proceeded from his camel’s throat and which denoted fear.
“Yea, oh, father,” he shouted in gasps. “What afflicts this evil beast? The half-caste is of no account, as we have lately learned through the death of the great Sheikh Hamed’s first born by his white wife. Methinks danger threatens, for, behold, this thrice accursed child of sin trembles as he runs. And the offspring of yon two would have the blood of three countries in its veins, so ’twere well to fell the tree before it bears fruit. And may Allah, in His mercy, give me a camel in paradise in the stead of this bag of shivers I now bestride.”
Al-Asad shaded his eyes from the glare of the evening sky and pointed towards the west.
“What seest thou yonder? A string of ostrich, a fleeing herd of gazelle, or Yussuf hunting with his dogs?”
The Patriarch, with eyes like a hawk, looked in the direction and laughed.
“’Tis Blind Yussuf with ‘His Eyes,’ followed by his dogs. They fly like the wind towards the mountains. From whence do they come and for what reason do they fly like the wind?”
Al-Asad made a trumpet of his hands and sent a call ringing across the miles of desert sand, upon which Ralph Trenchard, whose horse was in a sweat of terror, turned and looked at him and in the direction in which Zarah was also looking.
Yussuf had evidently heard the call.
Against the strangely angry-looking sky he stood out in black silhouette, with a team of dogs racing like the wind at his side, and the dumb youth, pillion-wise, behind him.