Dates, pomegranates, and areca nuts cut up and mixed with
sugar-paste pinned with cloves into a betel leaf--these constituted
the dessert.
The Arabs ate with strict decorum, according to their custom,
beginning the banquet with a _Bismillah_ of thanks and ending with an
_Al Hamd_ that signified repletion. Knives and forks there were none;
each man dipped his hand into whatever dish pleased him, as the trays
were passed along. The Legionaries did the same.
"Rather messy, eh?" commented the major; but no one answered him. More
serious thoughts than these possessed the others.
After ablution, once more--this time the white men shared it--tobacco,
pomegranate syrup, sherbet, water perfumed with _mastich_-smoke, and
thick, black coffee ended the meal.
The Master requested khat leaves, which were presently brought
him--deliciously green and fresh--in a copper bowl. Then, while the
slave-girls removed all traces of the feast, all relaxed for a few
minutes' _kayf_, or utter peace.
Utter peace, indeed, it seemed. Nothing more soothing could have been
imagined than the soft wooing of repletion and of silken cushions,
the dim sunlight through the smoke of incense and tobacco, the gentle
bubbling of the water-pipes, the half-heard courting of pigeons
somewhere aloft in the embrasures of the clerestory windows.
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