and all the dwellers in the Musalman quarter hie them to the house
of prayer.

It is in the comparative quiet of the streets by night that one hears more
distinctly the sounds in the houses. Here rises the bright note of the
"shadi" or luck songs with which during the livelong night the women of the
house dispel the evil influences that gather around a birth, a circumcision
or a "bismillah" ceremony. There one catches the passionate outcry of the
husband vainly trying to pierce the deaf ear of death. For life in the city
has hardened the hearts of the Faithful, and has led them to forget the
kindly injunction of the Prophet, still observed in small towns or villages
up-country:--"Neither shall the merry songs of birth or of marriage deepen
the sorrow of a bereaved brother." The last sound that reaches you as you
turn homewards, is the appeal of the "Sawale" or begging Fakir for a
hundred rupees to help him on his pilgrimage. All night long he tramps
through the darkness, stopping every twenty or thirty paces to deliver his
sonorous prayer for help, nor ceases until the Muezzin voices the summons
to morning prayer. He is the last person you see, this strange and
portionless Darwesh of the Shadows, and long after he has passed from your
sight, you hear his monotonous cry:--"Hazrat Shah Ali, Kalandar Hazrat Zar
Zari zar Baksh, Hazrat Shah Gisu Daroz Khwajah Bande Nawaz Hazrat Lal
Shahbaz ke nam sau rupai Hajjul Beit ka kharch dilwao!" He has elevated
begging to a fine art, and the Twelve Imams guard him from disappointment.




III.

SHADOWS OF NIGHT.