The
blacks had torn their turbans from their shaven heads, and thrown aside
their burnouses. Naked to their waists, with short, loose trousers, and
sashes which other men seized, to swing the wearers round and round,
their sweating skin had the gloss of ebony. It was a whirlwind of a
dance, and an old wizard with a tom-tom, and a dark giant with metal
castanets made music for the dancers, taking eccentric steps themselves
as they played. The Soudanese fell into an ecstasy of giddiness, running
about on their hands and feet like huge black tarantulas, or turning
themselves into human wheels, to roll through the bed of the dying fire
and out on the other side, sending up showers of sparks. All the while,
they uttered a barking chant, in time to the wicked music, which seemed
to shriek for war and bloodshed; and now and then they would dash after
some toddling boy, catch him by the scalp-lock on his shaved head (left
for the grasp of Azrail the death-angel) and force him to join the
dance.
Mean-faced Kabyle dogs, guarding deserted tents, howled their hatred of
the music, while far away, across desert spaces, jackals cried to one
another. And the scintillating network of stars was dimmed by a thin
veil of sand which the wind lifted and let fall, as Victoria lifted and
let fall the spangled scarf that made her beauty more mysterious, more
desirable, in the eyes of Maieddine.
XXVIII
"In the name of the All-Merciful and Pitiful! We seek refuge with the
Lord of the Day, against the sinfulness of beings created by Him;
against all evil, and against the night, lest they overcome us
suddenly.
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