out to meet them. They are pilgrims and have to make
vows and bring offerings. One had a sick son and he once vowed that if
his son got well he would bring a sheep and a bushel of wheat as an
offering to this shrine. So there is the sheep on one of the horses, and
that mule is bringing the wheat. If the old sheikh has many such
visitors he will grow rich. Some of them do. And yet the people laugh at
these holy places, and tell some strange stories about them. One of the
stories is as follows:--

Once upon a time there was a great Sheikh Ali, a holy man, who kept a
holy tomb of an ancient prophet. The tomb was on a hill under a big oak
tree, and the white dome could be seen for miles around. Lamps were kept
burning day and night in the tomb, and if any one extinguished them,
they were miraculously lighted again. Men with sore eyes came to visit
it and were cured. The earth around the tomb was carried off to be used
as medicine. Women came and tied old rags on the limbs of the tree, as
vows to the wonderful prophet. Nobody knew the name of the prophet, but
the tomb was called "Kobr en Nebi," or "tomb of the prophet." A green
cloth was spread over the tomb under the dome, and incense was sold by
the sheikh to those who wished to heal their sick, or drive out evil
spirits from their houses. Pilgrims came from afar to visit the holy
place, and its fame extended over all the land. Sheikh Ali was becoming
a rich man, and all the pilgrims kissed his hand and begged his
blessing. Now Sheikh Ali had a faithful servant named Mohammed, who had
served him long and well. But Mohammed was weary of living in one place,
and asked permission to go and seek his fortune in distant parts. So
Sheikh Ali gave him his blessing and presented him with a donkey, which
he had for many years, that he might ride when tired of walking. Then
Mohammed set out on his journey. He went through cities and towns and
villages, and at last came out on the mountains east of the Jordan in a
desert place. No village or house was in sight and night came on. Tired,
hungry and discouraged poor Mohammed lay down by his donkey on a great
pile of stones and fell asleep. In the morning he awoke, and alas his
donkey was dead. He was in despair, but his kindly nature would not let
the poor brute lie there to be devoured by jackals and vultures, so he
piled a mound of stones over its body and sat down to weep.

While he was weeping, a wealthy Hajji or pilgrim came along,