I need not tell you that with such a master I made
fair progress, and that at the age of twenty-one I was, for a Turk, a
young man of remarkably good education. Then my master died suddenly,
and I was thrown into great distress. I was of course nothing but a
slave, and liable to be sold at any time. I escaped. Active and
enduring, though never possessing any vast muscular strength, I bore
with ease the hardships of a long journey on foot with little food and
scant lodging. Falling in with a band of pilgrims, I recognised the
wisdom of joining them on their march to Mecca. I was, of course, a
sound Mohammedan, as I am to this day, and my knowledge of the Koran
soon gained me some reputation in the caravan. I was considered a
creditable addition, and altogether an eligible pilgrim. My exceptional
physique protected me from the disease and exhaustion of which not a few
of our number died by the wayside, and the other pilgrims, in
consideration of my youth and piety, gave me willingly the few handfuls
of rice and dates that I needed to support life and strength.
"You have read about Mecca; and your _hadji_ barber, who of course has
been there, has doubtless related his experiences to you scores of times
in the plains, as he does everywhere. As you may imagine, I had no
intention of returning towards Roum with my companions.
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