ABSTRACT
TRA’DIBNSATTAM hurried with me to the sacred Standard which rose high above the travelling-litters. We made our way through an agitated throng. The buzz of women’s and children’s voices intermingled with the grunting and complaining of laden camels. On nearer approach I noticed a group of women afoot, threading their way to the Standard; they waved their head-cloths and kept up a high-pitched chant. They were escorting a young woman walking sedately in their midst. It was Tuëma. Her beautiful serene face was radiant and aglow with health. Her eyes under their long lashes were grave and devout, but she had a bright glance for Tra’d Ibn Sattam, who had chosen her out of all the Ruala maidens for the signal honour of riding in the Markab, and on recognizing me her cheeks dimpled with a smile.
