Arabs whose long Indian shawls were twisted about their heads and fell
in fringed ends upon their backs; fiery Arabian horses, ridden by Arabs
swaying long spears or lances in their hands; heavily-laden pack-mules,
whose leaders walked beside them, urging them on with sticks, and giving
vent to shrill cries as they went; and lastly a line of pilgrims, some
trudging along wearily, some riding miserable beasts, whose ribs shone
through their roughened hides, while others rode, in the proud security
of ease and affluence, in comfortable litters, or upon animals whose
sleek and well-fed appearance comported with the self-satisfied air of
their riders.

A halt was called, and immediately all was confusion. Tents were
hurriedly thrown up; the pack-mules were unburdened for a moment; the
horses, scenting the water, began to neigh and sniff the air; infants,
who had been crammed into saddle-bags with their heads out, were hauled
from their close quarters; the horsemen of Musa, still balancing their
tufted spears, dashed in and out; while his herdsmen, anxious to keep
the flocks from mixing with the caravan, shrieked and gesticulated,
hurrying the flocks of sheep off in noisy confusion, and urging the
herds of dromedaries on with their short, hooked sticks. It was indeed a
babel, in which Yusuf had no part; and he once more seized the
opportunity of looking at the precious parchment To his astonishment, he
perceived that it was addressed to "Mohammed, son of Abdallah, son of
Abdal Motalleb, Mecca," with the subscription, "From Sergius the Monk,
Bosra."

Here then, Yusuf had, in perfect innocence, been entrapped into reading
a communication addressed to some one else, and he smiled sarcastically
as he thought of the inquisitiveness of the little Jew who had taken the
liberty of "just peeping in."