When the excitement over the loot had cooled down a little, a camel was killed in honour of the occasion, and my servant Hasseena was ordered to prepare some of the dishes. I was invited to eat with the Emirs. Our first dish was the raw liver of the camel, covered with salt and shetta—a sort of red pepper. I had seen this dish being eaten, but had never partaken of it myself before. I had two reasons for eating it now: first, I was hungry and thirsty; secondly, one of the first signs of fear is a disinclination, I might say inability, to swallow food, and fear of my captors was the last thing I intended to exhibit. After the meal, my clothes were taken from me, as they looked upon them as the dress of a kaffir, and I was turned out into the night-air with my singlet, drawers, and socks as my complete wardrobe. My turban and Baghdad |33| Kofiyeh were also taken, so that I was bareheaded into the bargain. When the dervishes had finished their food, and before they lay down for the night, the Emir Farag sent for all the loot to be collected and brought before his tent, when it would later on be distributed according to the rules of the Beit-el-Mal (Treasury). This institution and its working will be described later. Only a part of the loot was collected, for the men, knowing from experience the extraordinary manner in which loot “shrank” in bulk and numbers when placed in the hands of the Emirs to be distributed according to rule, concealed in the sand or beneath their jibbehs, whatever could be hidden there. The pipes and tobacco found in the baggage were burned, as their use was prohibited by the Mahdi. Amongst my things was found my letter-wallet, and this was handed to the Emirs, who afterwards sent for me and demanded to know the contents of the letters. I replied that they were only business documents, receipts for goods, and such like, but that if the wallet was handed to me, I would translate each document. Being satisfied with this answer, Farag kept the wallet. Complaining of my clothing having been taken, he allowed me to have my flannel shirt, and gave me a piece of rag as head-dress. In this guise, I lay down in the sand to doze and wake the whole night through, conscious yet unconscious, with the incidents of the last eighteen days chasing each other through my brain.