"You like heat?" I remarked, by way of commencing a conversation.
The man slowly raised his eyes, which glittered in his head and flashed like the embers on the hearth.
"Heat is good, Effendi. Fire gives warmth—without warmth we should die. Fire gives life, and destroys it. I love the flames."
Mohammed came close to the fire and stooped down. The sheik's eyes sparkled brighter than before: he said something. My servant laughed, but moved away from the hearth.
"What did he say?" I inquired.
"He was afraid, Effendi, that I was about to spit in the fire. They think that this is a great insult to the ——" Here Mohammed stopped; he did not like to utter the word "Shaitan" (devil); The sheikh, who appeared much frightened at the beginning of the sentence, and had left off passing his arms through the flames, commenced repeating that operation.
"Do you believe in Allah?" I remarked.
"Allah is good," was the reply. "Allah can do no harm."
My host now came up, and, bowing before the sheik, said something. The latter, placing his hand into his sash, produced two clay balls, which he gave to the proprietor—the latter receiving them with an air of the greatest satisfaction.
These balls had been manufactured with clay taken from the tomb of Sheik Adi—a saint who is highly reverenced by the Yezeeds—the travelling sheiks make a certain sum of money by selling them to the devotees.