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A Prince of Islam 273
this he wore a rich light-grey cloak, open in front. Around his waist was a wide belt, also embroidered in gold; and the belt held a short, curved dagger, the most beautiful I have ever seen, so finely chased was its scabbard and hilt of gold and silver. On his left hand was a diamond ring worth a small fortune. He looked, indeed, the Prince of a right Royal House.
His attendants were also splendidly attired. The Chief Sheikh of the Bedouins, a lithe, little man, with dark and piercing eyes, a small, straight nose, and thin lips, rivaled his Prince in the richness of his apparel. Only two of our visitors were wearing semi-European clothing. One of these was the Minister of Air, Colonel Rushdi. His fat, short figure was covered with a field uniform like that of an English officer, but he too wore the Arabian kufiyah head-dress. I smiled inwardly when I saw the followers of the Prince come trooping up the gangway after their aesthetic-appearing leader, for they were nearly all like Colonel Rushdi, ridiculously plump. As I looked at them I could understand why the hard-bodied and flat-bellied Bedouins of the desert hold them in such small esteem ; and I remembered how Sir Richard Burton, during his famous trip to Mecca in disguise, gained the friendship of a hardy old man of the plains by singing for him a Bedouin song ridiculing soft -living town sheikhs.
Maysunah, the beautiful young Bedouin wife of the rich and powerful but city-bred and bodily fat and soft Caliph Muawiyah is supposed to be singing. She sings :