AT dawn on the id al-Kurban (10th Zul Hijjah, Wednesday, 14th September) a gun warned us to lose no time; we arose hurriedly, and started up the Batn Muhassir to Muna. By this means we lost at Muzdalifah the Salat al-id, or Festival Prayers, the great solemnity of the Moslem year, performed by all the community at daybreak. My companion was so anxious to reach Meccah, that he would not hear of devotions. About eight A.M. we entered the village, and looked for the boy Mohammed in vain. Old Ali was dreadfully perplexed; a host of high-born Turkish pilgrims were, he said, expecting him; his mule was missingcould never appearhe must be lateshould probably never reach Meccahwhat would become of him? I began by administering admonition to the mind diseased; but signally failing in a cure, I amused myself with contemplating the world from my Shugduf, leaving the office of directing it to the old Zemzemi. Now he stopped, then he pressed forward; here he thought he saw Mohammed, there he discovered our tent; at one time he would nakh the camel to await, in patience, his supreme hour; at another, half mad with nervousness, he would urge the excellent Masud to hopeless inquiries. Finally, by good fortune, we found one of the boy Mohammeds cousins, who led us to an enclosure [p.203] called Hosh al-Uzam, in the Southern portion of the Muna Basin, at the base of Mount Sabir.[FN#1] There we pitched the tent, refreshed ourselves, and awaited the truants return. Old Ali, failing to disturb my equanimity, attempted, as those who consort with philosophers often will do, to quarrel with me. But, finding no material wherewith to build a dispute in such fragments as Ah!Hem!Wallah! he hinted desperate intentions against the boy Mohammed. When, however, the youth appeared, with even more jauntiness of mien than usual, Ali bin Ya Sin lost heart, brushed by him, mounted his mule, and, doubtless cursing us under the tongue, rode away, frowning viciously, with his heels playing upon the beasts ribs.
Mohammed had been delayed, he said, by the difficulty of finding asses. We were now to mount for the Throwing,[FN#2] as a preliminary to which we washed with seven waters the seven pebbles brought from Muzdalifah, and bound them in our Ihrams. Our first destination was the entrance to the western end of the long line which composes the Muna village. We found a swarming crowd in the narrow road opposite the Jamrat al-Akabah,[FN#3] or, as it is vulgarly called, the Shaytan al-Kabirthe Great Devil. These names distinguish it from another pillar, the Wusta, or Central Place, (of stoning,) built in the middle of Muna, and a third at the eastern end, Al-Aula, or the First Place.[FN#4] The Shaytan al-Kabir is a dwarf buttress of rude
[p.204] masonry, about eight feet high by two and a half broad, placed against a rough wall of stones at the Meccan entrance to Muna. As the ceremony of Ramy, or Lapidation, must be performed on the first day by all pilgrims between sunrise and sunset, and as the fiend was malicious enough to appear in a rugged Pass,[FN#5] the crowd makes the place dangerous. On one side of the road, which is not forty feet broad, stood a row of shops belonging principally to barbers. On the other side is the rugged wall against which the pillar stands, with a chevaux de frise of Badawin and naked boys. The narrow space was crowded with pilgrims, all struggling like drowning men to approach as near as possible to the Devil; it would have been easy to run over the heads of the mass. Amongst them were horsemen with rearing chargers. Badawin on wild camels, and grandees on mules and asses, with outrunners, were breaking a way by assault and battery. I had read Ali Beys self-felicitations upon escaping this place with only two wounds in the left leg, and I had duly provided myself with a hidden dagger. The precaution was not useless. Scarcely had my donkey entered the crowd than he was overthrown by a dromedary, and I found myself under the stamping and roaring beasts stomach. Avoiding being trampled upon by a judicious use of the knife, I lost no time in escaping from a place so ignobly dangerous. Some Moslem travellers assert, in proof of the sanctity of the spot, that no Moslem is ever killed here: Meccans assured me that accidents are by no means rare.
Presently the boy Mohammed fought his way out of the crowd with a bleeding nose. We both sat down upon a bench before a barbers booth, and, schooled by adversity,
[p.205] awaited with patience an opportunity. Finding an opening, we approached within about five cubits of the place, and holding each stone between the thumb and the forefinger[FN#6] of the right hand, we cast it at the pillar, exclaiming, In the name of Allah, and Allah is Almighty! (I do this) in Hatred of the Fiend and to his Shame. After which came the Tahlil and the Sana, or praise to Allah. The seven stones being duly thrown, we retired, and entering the barbers booth, took our places upon one of the earthern benches around it. This was the time to remove the Ihram or pilgrims garb, and to return to Ihlal, the normal state of Al-Islam. The barber shaved our heads,[FN#7] and, after trimming our beards and cutting our nails, made us repeat these words: I purpose loosening my Ihram according to the Practice of the Prophet, Whom may Allah bless and preserve! O Allah, make unto me in every Hair, a Light, a Purity, and a generous Reward! In the name of Allah, and Allah is Almighty! At the conclusion of his labour, the barber politely addressed to us a NaimanPleasure to you! To which we as ceremoniously replied, Allah give thee pleasure! We had no clothes with us, but we could use our cloths to cover our heads, and slippers to defend our feet from the fiery sun; and we now could safely twirl our mustachios and stroke our beardsplacid enjoyments of which we had been deprived by the
[p.206] Laws of Pilgrimage. After resting about an hour in the booth, which, though crowded with sitting customers, was delightfully cool compared with the burning glare of the road, we mounted our asses, and at eleven A.M. we started Meccah-wards.
This return from Muna to Meccah is called Al-Nafr, or the Flight[FN#8]: we did not fail to keep our asses at speed, with a few halts to refresh ourselves with gugglets of water. There was nothing remarkable in the scene: our ride in was a repetition of our ride out. In about half an hour we entered the city, passing through that classical locality called Batn Kuraysh, which was crowded with people, and then we repaired to the boy Mohammeds house for the purpose of bathing and preparing to visit the Kaabah.
Shortly after our arrival, the youth returned home in a state of excitement, exclaiming, Rise, Effendi! dress and follow me! The Kaabah, though open, would for a time be empty, so that we should escape the crowd. My pilgrims garb, which had not been removed, was made to look neat and somewhat Indian, and we sallied forth together without loss of time.
A crowd had gathered round the Kaabah, and I had no wish to stand bareheaded and barefooted in the midday September sun. At the cry of Open a path for the Haji who would enter the House, the gazers made way. Two stout Meccans, who stood below the door, raised me in their arms, whilst a third drew me from above into the building. At the entrance I was accosted by several officials, dark-looking Meccans, of whom the blackest and plainest was a youth of the Benu Shaybah family,[FN#9]
[p.207] the sangre-azul of Al-Hijaz. He held in his hand the huge silver-gilt padlock of the Kaabah,[FN#10] and presently taking his seat upon a kind of wooden press in the left corner of the hall, he officially inquired my name, nation, and other particulars. The replies were satisfactory, and the boy Mohammed was authoritatively ordered to conduct me round the building, and to recite the prayers. I will not deny that, looking at the windowless walls, the officials at the door, and the crowd of excited fanatics below