Story No. 12

One year a brawl broke out among the pilgrims on foot, and I too was traveling on foot that trip. To be fair, we went at each other's heads and faces and gave a full account of cursing and fighting. I heard a man riding in a litter say to his seatmate: How strange! When the ivory pawn of chess crosses the board it becomes a queen, meaning it turns out better than it was; yet these pilgrims crossed the desert and only got worse. Tell that pilgrim who preys on people, the one who claws the coat off others' backs to hurt them: You are no true pilgrim, the camel is, for the poor beast eats thorns and carries the load.