Another hour went by: the sun was sinking in the west: the eastern horizon turned colour, passing from a purple shade to a tone of deepest crimson. The green flag on the mountain-top still floated high in air; still the preacher gave out his message, to the ever-increasing excitement of his people; and then at last, just as the sun dipped in a pool of red, the signal of Essraf was given. The sermon was over, and the night of another day begun. We were now entitled to call ourselves Hájís. “_Aydákum Ghebúl_ (May your festival be accepted),” cried Seyyid ’Alí, kissing me three times on the cheeks, in accordance with the practice. And I returned the kisses, saying-- “_Tebarik-Allah!_ (May God be glorified).” I now pass on to the Day of Sacrifice and the Days of Drying Flesh. CHAPTER XII THE DAY OF VICTIMS: FROM SUNDOWN TO SUNSET. THE DAYS OF DRYING FLESH. Long before the signal of Essraf was given, the canvas-city had been in a state of confusion: so that by the time the sermon was over most of the tents had been folded and stowed away. Thus everything was now ready for the impetuous rush from Arafat. The pilgrims’ jubilation was then at its height. The uproar was deafening: drums were beaten, bugles called us to make haste, and rocket after rocket exploded as it whirred through the air.... We waited half an hour or so, exchanging kisses and congratulations, and then a path was prepared for the cavalcades. The Egyptian Mahmil took the right-hand side of the road and the Syrian the left: after them charged the mounted pilgrims, followed by those on foot, all and each showing the same reckless determination to press forward over every obstacle, no matter how narrow the road might be. This headlong stampede after the sermon on the Mount is historic. It never grows stale with the years. The havoc it wrought in 1319 of the Flight it would be quite impossible to exaggerate; for the confusion which has become traditional was increased fivefold by the number of pilgrims, a number that was vastly greater than any within the recollection of the authorities. Women and men swooned in the crush and were trampled to death--litters were overthrown and smashed in pieces--camels were trodden under foot: but neither disaster nor death could, in the slightest degree, glut the wild desire by which the crowd was moved--the desire, namely, of being more completely possessed by the feeling of a religion-wrought delirium. It was not a triumphant procession of peaceful pilgrims, therefore, though that is undoubtedly what it should be; it was a charge of religious madmen running _amok_. How many were killed or maimed, I can hazard no guess; but of this I am quite certain,--the casualties had not been so terrible on any previous occasion within the memory of man.