“What is that!” shrieked Khadijah, the wife of the Sheik, suddenly appearing from an inner compartment of the tent, where she had overheard what had passed.
“Peace, woman,” said the Sheik authoritatively; “and prepare a plaster for Hassan’s wound.” Then turning to the latter, he added, in a milder tone: “My son, remember the proverb, that patience is the key to contentment, while anger opens the door to repentance. Calm your spirit, and tell me plainly what has happened. Inshallah, we will find a remedy.”
Hassan, having by this time recovered his composure, related how he had been engaged in taking some horses to the water, when a dispute arose between him and a young man named Youssuf Ebn-Solyman, in the course of which the latter said to him—
“How dare you speak thus to me, you who are nothing but an Ebn-Haram?” To this insult Hassan replied by a blow; Youssuf retaliated by striking him on the temple with a stone; upon which, after a violent struggle, Hassan succeeded in inflicting on his opponent a severe beating.
“And now,” said the youth, in concluding his narrative, “I wish to know why I have been called by this hateful name—a name that disgraces both you and my mother? I will not endure it, and whoever calls me so, be he boy or man, I will have his blood.”
“Are you sure,” inquired the Sheik, “that he said Hharam and not Heram?”[[3]]
“I am sure,” replied Hassan, “for he repeated it twice with a tone of contempt.”
“Then,” said the Sheik, “you were right to beat him; but the name, among mischievous people, will occasion you many quarrels: henceforth in the tribe you shall be called Hassan el-Gizèwi.”
“Why should I be called El-Gizèwi?” said the youth. “What have we, Oulâd-Ali, to do with Gizeh and the Pyramids?”[[4]]
After some hesitation the Sheik replied, “We were passing through that district when you were born; hence the name properly belongs to you.”