[p.144] matches casting a strange lurid light over their features. Taking up a position, one body began to fire upon the Utaybah robbers, whilst two or three hundred, dismounting, swarmed up the hill under the guidance of the Sharif Zayd. I had remarked this nobleman at Al-Madinah as a model specimen of the pure Arab. Like all Sharifs, he is celebrated for bravery, and has killed many with his own hand.[FN#24] When urged at Al-Zaribah to ride into Meccah, he swore that he would not leave the Caravan till in sight of the walls; and, fortunately for the pilgrims, he kept his word. Presently the firing was heard far in our rear, the robbers having fled. The head of the column advanced, and the dense body of pilgrims opened out. Our forced halt was now exchanged for a flight. It required much management to steer our Desert-craft clear of danger; but Shaykh Mas’ud was equal to the occasion. That many were not, was evident by the boxes and baggage that strewed the shingles. I had no means of ascertaining the number of men killed and wounded: reports were contradictory, and exaggeration unanimous. The robbers were said to be a hundred and fifty in number; their object was plunder, and they would eat the shot camels. But their principal ambition was the boast, “We, the Utaybah, on such and such a [p.145] night, stopped the Sultan’s Mahmil one whole hour in the Pass.” At the beginning of the skirmish I had primed my pistols, and sat with them ready for use. But soon seeing that there was nothing to be done, and wishing to make an impression,—nowhere does Bobadil now “go down” so well as in the East,—I called aloud for my supper. Shaykh Nur, exanimate with fear, could not move. The boy Mohammed ejaculated only an “Oh, sir!” and the people around exclaimed in disgust, “By Allah, he eats!” Shaykh Abdullah, the Meccan, being a man of spirit, was amused by the spectacle. “Are these Afghan manners, Effendim?” he enquired from the Shugduf behind me. “Yes,” I replied aloud, “in my country we always dine before an attack of robbers, because that gentry is in the habit of sending men to bed supperless.” The Shaykh laughed aloud, but those around him looked offended. I thought the bravado this time mal place; but a little event which took place on my way to Jeddah proved that it was not quite a failure. As we advanced, our escort took care to fire every large dry Asclepias, to disperse the shades which buried us. Again the scene became wondrous wild:— “Full many a waste I’ve wander’d o’er, Clomb many a crag, cross’d many a shore, But, by my halidome, A scene so rude, so wild as this, Yet so sublime in barrenness, Ne’er did my wandering footsteps press, Where’er I chanced to roam.”