Outside are several camels tied to their
respective pack-saddles, which have been taken off and laid on the
ground. Before retiring for the night, it occurs to my mind that the
total depravity of a goat's appetite bodes ill for the welfare of my
saddle, and that, everything considered, the bicycle could, perhaps, be
placed safer on the ground; in addition to regarding the saddle as a
particularly toothsome morsel, the goats' venturesome disposition might
lead them to clambering about on the spokes, and generally mixing things
up. So, taking it down, I stand it up against the wall, and place a heap
of old pack-saddle frames and camel-trappings before it as an additional
precaution. During the night some of the camels break loose and are heard
chasing one another around the house, knocking things over and bellowing
furiously. Apprehensive of my wheel, I get up and find it knocked over,
but, fortunately, uninjured; I then take off the saddle and return it to
the tender care and consideration of the goats.
Four men and a boy share with me a small, unventilated den, about ten
feet square; one of them is a camel-driving descendant of the Prophet,
and sings out "Allah-il-allah!" several times during the night in his
sleep; another is the patriarch of the village, a person guilty of
cheating the undertaker, lo! these many years, and who snuffles and
catches his breath.
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