Abdel Hassan rides forward to meet him, and the children from behind watch with great delight.

Abdel Hassan takes the hand of the sheik, presses it to his lips and forehead, and says, “Peace be with you.”

Do you see how different this is from the hand-shakings and “How-do-you-do’s” of the gentlemen whom we know?  Many grand compliments are offered from one to another, and they are very polite and respectful.  Our manners would seem very poor beside theirs.

Then follows a long talk, and the smoking of pipes, while the servants make coffee, and serve it in little cups.

Hassein tells Abdel Hassan of the wells of fresh water which he left but one day’s journey behind him, and he tells of the rich cities he has visited.  Abdel Hassan gives him dates and salt in exchange for cloth for a turban, and a brown cotton dress for his little daughter.

It is not often that one meets men in the desert, and this day will long be remembered by the children.

The next night, before sunset, they can see the green feathery tops of the palm-trees before them.  The palms have no branches, but only great clusters of fern-like leaves at the top of the tree, under which grow the sweet dates.

Near those palm-trees will be Gemila’s home for a little while, for here they will find grass and a spring.  The camels smell the water, and begin to trot fast; the goats leap along over the sand, and the barefooted men hasten to keep up with them.

In an hour more the tent is pitched under the palm-trees, and all have refreshed themselves with the cool, clear water.

And now I must tell you that the camels have had nothing to drink since they left the old home.  The camel has a deep bag below his throat, which he fills with water enough to last four or five days; so he can travel in the desert as long as that, and sometimes longer, without drinking again.  Yet I believe the camels are as glad as the children to come to the fresh spring.

Gemila thinks so at night, as she stands under the starlight, patting her good camel Simel, and kissing his great lips.

The black goats, with long silky ears, are already cropping the grass.  The father sits again at the tent-door, and smokes his long pipe; the children bury their bare feet in the sand, and heap it into little mounds about them; while the mother is bringing out the dates and the bread and butter.

It is an easy thing for them to move:  they are already at home again.  But although they have so few cares, we do not wish ourselves in their place, for we love the home of our childhood, “be it ever so humble,” better than roaming like an exile.

But all the time I haven’t told you how Gemila looks, nor what clothes she wears.  Her face is dark; she has a little straight nose, full lips, and dark, earnest eyes; her dark hair will be braided when it is long enough.  On her arms and her ankles are gilded bracelets and anklets, and she wears a brown cotton dress loosely hanging halfway to the bare, slender ankles.  On her head the white fringed handkerchief, of which I told you, hangs like a little veil.  Her face is pleasant, and when she smiles her white teeth shine between her parted lips.