“I guess not,” he assented. “But if you aren’t a Jew or a Mohammedan, what are you?”
He had spoiled my mood, and since it was gone I thought I would amuse myself with the man. “A seeker of knowledge from the Altai Mountains,” I responded.
“Never heard of them,” he announced; “or is it your Choctaw for those?” he added, pointing towards the dark masses of the Atlas Mountains.
I smiled and answered, “They are many moons’ travel from here.”
“Oh!” he exclaimed. “How did you happen to come?”
“To follow after those gone before.”
“I see,” he said. “Relatives, I suppose? Hope you found them well?”
“No,” I replied, carrying on the humor, “dying.”
He jingled his coins, and asked, “Anything to be done for them?”
“Nothing.”