Page:Folk-lore of the Holy Land.djvu/258

On the mountain-top above a Mohammedan village stood a wely or saint’s tomb, of which the guardian was one Sheykh Abdullah, a genial old man and well-beloved in the neighbourhood. Accompanied by an orphan boy named Ali, his disciple, and mounted on an ass which he had brought up ever since it was a foal, he used to ride from village to village, prescribing for the sick, and selling amulets and charms written by himself, which were warranted to preserve their wearers from the evil eye and other strange adversities. He would also draw up horoscopes, and discover secrets in the magic mirror of ink or by the sand table.

When Ali was grown up, the old man said to him: “My son, I have taught you all I know. There are few khatìbs^[1] with half your learning. All you have now to do is to become a Haji by pilgrimage to the Holy Places. Then, in sh’Allah, you will find it easy to obtain a post, like mine, of honourable ease. As a derwìsh, you need no money. Take my old abâyeh, this mahajaneh, and the ass to ride on; start to-morrow with the other pilgrims.

Ali, though reluctant to leave his adopted father, followed the sheykh’s advice, and, having obtained his blessing, set out next day. By the mercy of Allah he journeyed in safety for many months,