Page:Algeria from Within.pdf/79

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MARABOUTS

"They play a melody of the far south," he said. "It is very beautiful, it is very sad. The heart of the Arab dominated is sad. I will leave you. May Allah bless and keep you young long. Tomorrow we will visit my flocks. Inch Allah."

He held out his hand, pressed mine, raised his fingers to his lips and then placed them on his breast. He flung the white burnous over his shoulder and disappeared into the night.

The note of the flute drifted up with the wind, and I walked back to the hotel with a feeling of great peace of mind.

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