the
chief town of El Hejaz. It was early morning when the procession passed
through the cleft at the western end; and the sun was just rising, a
globe of red, above the blue mountains towards Tayf, when Yusuf stopped
his camel on an eminence in full view of the city. There it lay in the
heart of the rough blackish hills, whose long shadows still fell upon
the low stone houses and crooked streets beneath.[5]

The priest's eager glance sought for the Caaba. There it was, a huge,
stone cube, standing in the midst of a courtyard two hundred and fifty
paces long by two hundred paces wide, and shrouded from top to bottom by
a heavy curtain of dark, striped cloth of Yemen.

There was something awe-inspiring in the scene, and the priest felt a
thrill of apprehensive emotion as he gazed upon what he had fondly hoped
would prove the end of his long journey. Yet his eye clouded; he covered
his face with his mantle and wept, saying to his soul, "Here, too, have
they turned aside to worship the false, and have bowed down to idols! My
soul! My soul! Where shalt thou find truth and rest?"

Amzi touched him on the arm. "Why do you weep, friend? Thou art a false
Guebre, truly! Know you not that even they hold the Caaba in high
reverence?"

There was a tone of good-natured raillery in the voice, and the speaker
continued: "Arouse yourself, my friend. See how they worship in Mecca.
They are at it already! See them run! By my faith 'tis a lusty morning
exercise!"

Yusuf looked up to see a great concourse of people gathering in the
court-yard. Many were rushing about the Caaba, and pausing frequently at
one corner of the huge structure.

"Each pilgrim," explained Amzi, "holds himself bound to go seven times
about the temple, and the harder he runs the more virtue there is in
it--performing the Tawaf, they call it. Those who seem to pause are
kissing the Hajar Aswad--the Black Stone, which, the Arabs say, was once
an angel cast from heaven in the form of a pure white jacinth. It is now
blackened by the kisses of sinners, but will, at the last day, arise in
its angel form, to bear testimony of the faithful who have kissed it,
and have done the Tawaf faithfully. And now, friend, come to the house
of Amzi, and see if he can be as hospitable as Musa the Bedouin."

Yusuf gratefully accepted the invitation, and the camels were urged on
again down the narrow, crooked street.

"Know you aught of one Mohammed?" asked the priest. "A roguish H