That day we breakfasted late, for night must come before we could eat again. After mid-day prayer we performed ablutions; some the greater, others the less, in preparation for the “Wukuf,” or Standing. From noon onwards the hum and murmur of the multitude increased, and people were seen swarming about in all directions. A second discharge of cannon (at about 3.15 P.M.) announced the approach of Al-Asr, the afternoon prayer, and almost immediately we heard the Naubat, or band preceding the Sharif’s procession, as he wended his way towards the mountain. Fortunately my tent was pitched close to the road, so that without trouble I had a perfect [p.195] view of the scene. First swept a cloud of mace-bearers, who, as usual on such occasions, cleared the path with scant ceremony. They were followed by the horsemen of the Desert, wielding long and tufted spears. Immediately behind them came the Sharif’s led horses, upon which I fixed a curious eye. All were highly bred, and one, a brown Nijdi with black points, struck me as the perfection of an Arab. They were small, and all were apparently of the northern race.[FN#4] Of their old crimson-velvet [p.196] caparisons the less said the better; no little Indian Nawab would show aught so shabby on state occasions. After the chargers paraded a band of black slaves on foot bearing huge matchlocks; and immediately preceded by three green and two red flags, came the Sharif, riding in front of his family and courtiers. The prince, habited in a simple white Ihram, and bare-headed, mounted a mule; the only sign of his rank was a large green and gold embroidered umbrella, held over him by a slave. The rear was brought up by another troop of Badawin on horses and camels. Behind this procession were the tents, whose doors and walls were scarcely visible for the crowd; and the picturesque background was the granite hill, covered, wherever standing-room was to be found, with white-robed pilgrims shouting “Labbayk,” and waving the skirts of their glistening garments violently over their heads. Slowly and solemnly the procession advanced towards the hill. Exactly at the hour Al-Asr, the two Mahmils had taken their station side by side on a platform in the lower slope. That of Damascus could be distinguished as the narrower and the more ornamented of the pair. The Sharif placed himself with his standard-bearers and his retinue a little above the Mahmils, within hearing of the preacher. The pilgrims crowded up to the foot of the mountain: the loud “Labbayk” of the Badawin and [p.197] Wahhabis[FN#5] fell to a solemn silence, and the waving of white robes ceased—a sign that the preacher had begun the Khutbat al-Wakfah, or Sermon of the Standing (upon Arafat). From my tent I could distinguish the form of the old man upon his camel, but the distance was too great for ear to reach. But how came I to be at the tent? A short confession will explain. They will shrive me who believe in inspired Spenser’s lines—