During all this time no word was spoken, and I was left altogether in
the dark as to the cause which had produced this extraordinary courtesy.
There was a stationary sofa--they called it there a divan--which was
fixed into the corner of the room, and on one side of the angle sat
Mahmoud al Ackbar, with his feet tucked under him, while I sat on the
other. The remainder of the party stood around, and I felt so little
master of the occasion, that I did not know whether it would become me
to bid them be seated. I was not master of the entertainment. They were
not my pipes. Nor was it my coffee, which I saw one of the followers
preparing in a distant part of the room. And, indeed, I was much
confused as to the management of the stick and amber mouth-piece with
which I had been presented. With a cigar I am as much at home as any man
in the City. I can nibble off the end of it, and smoke it to the last
ash, when I am three parts asleep. But I had never before been invited
to regale myself with such an instrument as this. What was I to do with
that huge yellow ball? So I watched my new friend closely.
It had manifestly been a part of his urbanity not to commence till I had
done so, but seeing my difficulty he at last raised the ball to his
mouth and sucked at it. I looked at him and envied the gravity of his
countenance, and the dignity of his demeanour. I sucked also, but I made
a sputtering noise, and must confess that I did not enjoy it. The smoke
curled gracefully from his mouth and nostrils as he sat there in mute
composure. I was mute as regarded speech, but I coughed as the smoke
came from me in convulsive puffs. And then the attendant brought us
coffee in little tin cups--black coffee, without sugar and full of grit,
of which the berries had been only bruised, not ground. I took the cup
and swallowed the mixture, for I could not refuse, but I wish that I
might have asked for some milk and sugar. Nevertheless there was
something very pleasing in the whole ceremony, and at last I began to
find myself more at home with my pipe.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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