Then they started on another word with endless
iteration, and then they repeated _Allah, Allah, Allah_, swaying and
swaying till the universe began to reel. I became aware that their chief,
who was seated on a special red carpet, was counting on a rosary, and I
drew relief from the deduction that an end would come. It did, but worse
remained behind; for the Dervishes got up and formed a ring round their
chief, and began swaying right and left and backwards and forwards,
unrestingly, remorselessly, getting quicker and quicker, till there was
nothing in the world but swayings this way and that way, back and forth.
At last the movements began to slow down and to sweep over larger curves,
and suddenly they stopped altogether, only to recommence as the fanatics
started singing a joyous hymn. Alas! thought I, one half the world is a
laughing-stock to the other half, if indeed not rather a source of tears.
For now the chief, whose fine gloomy Eastern face still haunts me, was
bowing to his men, and they were responding with strange raucous cries
compounded of the roars of wild beasts and the pants of locomotives. _Hu!
Hu!_ they roared in savage unison, _Hu! Hu!_ monotonously, endlessly,
making strange motions. Hoarser and more bestial grew the frightful
roars, wilder and wilder grew the movements, the head-gear falling off,
faces growing black, the chief standing silent with his hand on his
breast, but in his pale face a tense look of ever-gathering excitement.
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