onward.

Woe to such in their way as were poorly mounted. In a twinkling they
were ridden down. Nor did those fare better who were overtaken
struggling with a string of camels. The crash of bursting boxes, the
sharp report of rending ropes, the warning cry, the maddening cheer; a
battle of men, another of beasts--and when the collision had passed, the
earth was strewn with its wreck.

"They are Wahabbas, O Hadji," said the Shaykh. "Thou seest the tufts on
their spears. Under them they carry _Jehannum_."

"And these now coming?" asked the Prince. "Their long white hats remind
me of Persia."

"Persians they are," replied the Shaykh, his lip curling, his eyes
gleaming. "They will tear their clothes, and cut their shaven crowns,
and wail, 'Woe's me, O Ali!' then kiss the Kaaba with defilement on
their beards. The curse of the _Shaykaim_ is on them--may it stay
there!"

Then the Prince knew it was a Sunite speaking of Schiahs.

Yet others of the Cafila of Bagdad passed with the despised sons of
Iran; notably Deccanese, Hindoos, Afghans, and people from the
Himalayas, and beyond them far as Kathay, and China, and Siam, all
better known to the Prince than to his Shaykh, who spoke of them,
saying, "Thou shouldst know thine own, O Hadji! Thou art their father!"

Next, in a blending that permitted no choice of associates, along swept