oiled with
difficulty. The face of the country was rising once more, and again
presented the aspect of numerous small basins divided and surrounded by
hills. As we jogged on we were passed by the cavalcade of no less a
personage than the Sherif of Meccah. Abd el Muttalib bin Ghalib is a
dark, beardless old man with African features, derived from his mother.
He was plainly dressed in white garments and a white muslin turban,
which made him look jet-black; he rode an ambling mule, and the only
emblem of his dignity was the large green satin umbrella borne by an
attendant on foot. Scattered around him were about forty matchlock-men,
mostly slaves. At long intervals, after their father, came his four
sons, Riza Bey, Abdullah, Ali, and Ahmed, the latter still a child. The
three elder brothers rode splendid dromedaries at speed; they were young
men of light complexion, with the true Meccan cast of features, showily
dressed in bright-colored silks, and armed, to denote their rank, with
sword and gold-hilted dagger.

We halted as evening approached, and strained our eyes, but all in vain,
to catch sight of Meccah, which lies in a winding valley. By Shaykh
Abdullah's direction I recited, after the usual devotions, the following
prayer. The reader is forewarned that it is difficult to preserve the
flowers of Oriental rhetoric in a European tongue.

"O Allah! verily this is thy safeguard (Amn) and thy Sanctuary (Haram)!
Into it whoso entereth becometh safe (Amin). So deny (Harrim) my flesh
and blood, my bones and skin, to hell-fire. O Allah! Save me from thy
wrath on the day when thy servants shall be raised from the dead. I
conjure thee by this that thou art Allah, besides whom is none (thou
only), the merciful, the compassionate. And have mercy upon our lord
Mohammed, and upon the progeny of our lord Mohammed, and upon his
followers, one and all!" This was concluded with the "Talbiyat," and
with an especial prayer for myself.

We again mounted, and night completed our disappointment. About 1 A.M. I
was aroused by general excitement. "Meccah! Meccah!" cried some voices.
"The Sanctuary! O the Sanctuary!" exclaimed others; and all burst into
loud "Labbayk," not unfrequently broken by sobs. I looked out from my
litter, and saw by the light of the southern stars the dim outlines of a
large city, a shade darker than the surrounding plain. We were passing
over the last ridge by a "winding path" flanked on both sides by
watch-towers,