Zubaydah had the supper-tray brought out to the children; and, when they had again eaten, while the men were sitting around smoking their perfumed water-pipes, the full moon came up over the ridge and made it almost as light as day; for the moonlight of the desert seems brighter than moonlight anywhere else because the air is so clear. Now they all began to tell stories and recite poetry, of which the Arabs are very fond. The Arab loves to hear and to tell stories about the great deeds of their people in the past, and to recite beautiful poems in praise of the glories of many years ago. Finally Fatimah brought out her lute, a queer little instrument with only one string, which did not make much music. But the song was very pretty, and Fatimah sang it very sweetly: "Oh, take these purple robes away, Give back my cloak of camel's hair, And bear me from this tow'ring pile To where the 'Black Tents' flap the air. "The camel's colt with falt'ring tread, The dog that bays at all but me, Delight me more than ambling mules-- Than every art of minstrelsy." After the song, Rashid and Hamid rolled themselves up in warm blankets in a corner of the big tent and were soon asleep. So ended Rashid's first day in the "Black Tents." CHAPTER II HAMID AND RASHID AT PLAY WHEN little Rashid woke up the next morning, he rubbed his eyes and for a moment wondered if he was dreaming. It seemed so strange to find himself lying in the corner of the big tent instead of in his own room, with his pet doves cooing at his window. But instead of doves, what he heard was the neighing and stamping of horses, and the calls of the men driving the camels out to pasture. As he turned his head, he found Hamid's mother standing beside him with a bowl in her hand. "Here is warm milk from the camel," she said, with a smile, "to make thee well and redden thy cheeks. Hasten to drink it while it is warm. There is water in yonder basin with which to wash," she added. Rashid was up in a minute, and dashed the water over his face and hands. Then he made his prayer like a good little Mohammedan that he was, for he must do this before eating. "I never tasted anything nicer than that," said he, as he finished his bowl of milk. "'Tis good for thee to be hungry, for it means that thou art already better," said little Fatimah, wisely, giving him a piece of the cake which had been baked the night before. She had brought in her bowl to keep him company at his breakfast. "Where is Hamid?" asked Rashid, looking around for his little friend. "He has been in and out many times; but I would not let him waken you," said Zubaydah. "He is full of a secret that he will not tell me," spoke up Fatimah, in rather a hurt voice. Just then Hamid poked his head in behind the curtain of the tent in a great state of excitement. "Come, Rashid," he said, "and tell me what thou findest here."