There Is An Independent Bearing
About The Yambu' Men, Strange In The East; They Are Proud Without
Insolence, And They Look Manly Without Blustering.
Their walk partakes
somewhat of the nature of a swagger, owing, perhaps, to the shape of
the sandals, not a little assisted by the self-esteem of the wearer,
but there is nothing offensive in it:
Moreover, the population has a
healthy appearance, and, fresh from Egypt, I could not help noticing
their freedom from ophthalmic disease. The children, too, appear
vigorous, nor are they here kept in that state of filth to which fear
of the Evil Eye devotes them in the Valley of the Nile.
My companions found me in a coffee-house, where I had sat down to rest
from the fatigue of halting on my wounded foot through the town. They
had passed their boxes through the custom-house, and were now inquiring
in all directions, "Where's the Effendi?" After sitting for half an
hour, we rose to depart, when an old Arab merchant, whom I had met at
Suez, politely insisted
[p.230] upon paying for my coffee, still a mark of attention in Arabia
as it was whilome in France. We then went to a Wakalah, near the bazar,
in which my companions had secured an airy upper room on the terrace
opposite the sea, and tolerably free from Yambu's plague, the flies. It
had been tenanted by a party of travellers, who were introduced to me
as Omar Effendi's brothers; he had by accident met them in the streets
the day before their start for Constantinople, where they were
travelling to receive the Ikram.[FN#9] The family was, as I have said
before, from Daghistan (Circassia), and the male members still showed
unequivocal signs of a northern origin, in light yellowish skins, grey
eyes fringed with dark lashes, red lips, and a very scant beard.
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