“And do they not recognize a God over all?”

“They acknowledge Allah as the highest, the universal power,—­yet he is virtually but a nominal deity, for they deem that none can enter into special relationship with him save through the mediation of the household gods.  In his name the holiest oaths are sworn, nevertheless in true worship he has the last place.  Indeed, it must be confessed that neither fear of Allah nor reverence of the gods has much influence over the mass of our people.”

“What, then, is the meaning of this great pilgrimage, whose fame reached me even in Persia?  Does not religious enthusiasm lead those poor wretches, hobbling along behind, to take such a journey?”

Amzi nodded his head slowly.  “Religious incentives may move the few,” he said.  “But, friend, can you not see that barter is the leading object of the greater number—­of those well-to-do pilgrims who are superintending the carriage of their baggage so complacently there?  The holy months, particularly the Ramadhan, afford a period of comparative safety, a long truce that affords a convenient season for traffic.  Alas, poor stranger! you will be sad to find that our city, in the time of the holy fast, becomes a place of buying and selling, of vice and robbery—­a place where gain is all and God is almost unknown.”

“But you, Amzi; what do you believe of such things?”

“In truth, I know not what to think.  Believe in idols I cannot; worship in the Caaba I will not; so that my religion is but a belief in Allah, whom I fear to approach, and whose help and influence I know not how to obtain, a confidence in my own morality, and a consciousness of doing good works.”

“Strange, strange!” said the priest, “that we have arrived at somewhat the same place by different ways!  Amzi, let us be brothers in the quest!  Let us rest neither night nor day until we have found the way to the Supreme God!  Amzi, I want to feel him, to know him, as I am persuaded he may be known; yet, like you, I fear to approach him.  Have you heard of Jesus?”

“A few among a band of coward Jews who live in the Jewish quarter of Mecca, believe in One whom they call Jesus.  The majority of them do not accept him as divine; and among those who do, he seems to be little more than a name of some one who lived and died as did Abraham and Ishmael.  His teaching, if, indeed, he taught aught, seems to have little effect upon their lives.  They live no better than others, and, indeed, they are slurred upon by all true Meccans as cowardly dogs, perjurers and usurers.”

Yusuf sighed deeply.  It seemed as though he were following a flitting ignis-fatuus, that eluded him just as he came in sight of it.

The rest of the day was passed in comparative silence.  The evening halt was called, and it was decided to spend the night in a grassy basin, traversed by the rocky bed of a mountain stream, a “fiumara,” down which a feeble brooklet from recent mountain rains trickled.  Owing to the security of the month Ramadhan, it was deemed that a night halt would be safe, and the whole caravan encamped on the spot.