Next day at lunchtime the warden informed me that he had found out from the pilgrimage groups that she was from Khurasan and had now managed to restore the girl to her father and aunt. Her mother had died of suffocation in yesterday's mob scene. He told me that tragedies such as this happened every year during the pilgrimage season, something that caused us both to seek refuge in God Almighty from such calamities. I then told him that it was my intention to perform the pilgrimage rituals alone the next day at noontime. With great emotion he prayed that my pilgrimage would be blessed, fruitful, and well received by God. He proposed to me that Ghaylan, who was eager to perform the pilgrimage as well, should go with me, an idea that I accepted with great pleasure. After a moment's thought I then broached the topic of the money-belt full of gold coins around my waist, and he told me that I could either leave it perfectly safely in my room or else give it to him to look after. Without a moment's hesitation I handed them over to him, in compensation for which I gave him a purse full of cash to be used for expenses and charitable purposes. Before going upstairs to my quarters, I asked him if there was any news of our beloved friend Al-Shushtari, and he replied that the only information he had had come in the form of a dream, to the effect that all was well.
On the seventh of the pilgrimage month I headed for the ancient shrine of the Ka`ba; as the warden had requested, Ghaylan came with me. Yet again the streets leading to the sacred enclosure were teeming with people from all walks and cultures. This time I managed to perform all the rituals of the minor pilgrimage, since my enormous companion made it possible for me to actually touch the black stone. This time, however, after I had completed the circumambulations, only one woman reached over to touch my hand and kiss it. That done, I allowed Ghaylan to perform his own pilgrimage rituals. I asked him to select someone who could make the preparations for our full pilgrimage and agreed with him that we would meet at dawn the next day by the waterspout. In this sacred spot I now prayed the afternoon prayer on my own, then added my own voice to those who were pronouncing their prayers and requests. When the time came for the sunset prayer, I performed it there along with the entire gathered assembly, then the evening prayer as well (for which I joined the Hanafi community, most of whom were Persians and Turks-I could tell that because one of them spoke to me, and his faulty Arabic was both obvious and amusing).
I found that I had time to wander around the enormous expanse of the sacred enclosure and to look at some of its architectural features. I walked slowly toward the lighted candles and lamps, looking closely at the adjoining alcove and the plethora of columns that carried the weight of the extensive convex roof. I paused by a number of gates that I had not noticed previously: the Gate of al'Abbas's Dome and that of the Jewish Woman's Dome to the north, and that of the Zamzam Dome to the east. I then went out to the exterior enclosure, paused to look up at the seven minarets, then turned aside to the Dome of Inspiration, that being the haven of Our Lady Khadija*-may her memory be blessed! Being so close to her in this holy spot, I decided to go over to a corner and sit down, my eyes closed and my mind lost in thought. At times I thought of that holy lady with all her wondrous acts, while at others I worried about my beloved wife's, Fayha" s, safety-may God keep her alive for me and make it possible for me to return to her safe and sound!
On the morning of the eighth day of this blessed month I accompanied Ghaylan and a whole group of other Muslim believers up to Mina, where we spent the night. Next morning came the ritual of standing at Mount `Arafat, then on to Muzdalifa, and then on the tenth back to Mina, at which point stones were hurled and animals were sacrificed. I performed all the rituals, as did Ghaylan, for whom this was his first-ever pilgrimage. He copied me in everything I did, and paid no attention whatsoever to the instructions from the person whom he had hired to serve as our guide. Once we had completed the rituals, he went away and came back with his head completely shaved. He begged me for the privilege of cutting my hair, and I allowed him to do so before we returned to the Ka`ba in Mecca to perform the farewell circumambulations in preparation for reassuming our normal way of life at dawn on the following day. I spent whatever time there was left to relax and take things easy, strolling my way around Mina, looking at the sights of Mecca itself, and visiting my own residence. Every time Ghaylan, the new pilgrim, had the chance, he thanked me profusely and offered prayers and blessings on my behalf in his colorful Sudanese accent. Yasir, the warden, who had performed the pilgrimage so many times that he could not even count them, also thanked me profusely and showed me his particular brand of Yemeni hospitality.
On the very last day of the pilgrimage month, I spent an entire day walking around and exploring. When I returned to the house, I found the Khurasani girl and her father waiting for me, duly attended by the warden. I greeted them warmly in response to their greeting-including my sorrow over the death of the man's wife, but I barely had time to sit down before he launched, albeit in a very fumbling Arabic, into a string of expressions of gratitude to me for saving the life of his only daughter, the apple of his eye. Pointing to the heavens above, I told the man that it is God who determines who is to live and die. He was anxious to reward me with a whole host of sealed purses, but I turned down his generous offer, citing the Qur'anic verse "Nay rather, I shall not ask you for a reward for it, save love for those near and dear" [Sura 42, v. 23]. The man then invited me to dine with them the next evening, just managing to say in Arabic, "You dine with us." Suppressing a giggle, the warden corrected him and told me that this generous man wanted to invite me to dinner with him and his family. In my mind's eye I now saw the image of Fayha'. I asked her what she thought, and she responded with a gesture that was unambiguous. So with the appropriate words of thanks and apology, I declined the offer. The man now told me that in two days' time he was returning to his homeland. He expressed the hope that we would meet again on some future pilgrimage. As we all stood up so they could leave, the girl grabbed my hands and started kissing them and weeping copious tears. She clung to my clothes and refused to let go, uttering phrases in her Persian dialect as she did so. It needed her father, Ghaylan, and Yasir to break her free and carry her to her camel litter outside the door. With that I took advantage of an opportunity to spend some time on my own, close to the Dome of Inspiration, where I allowed myself to ponder the fate of that strange teenage girl from Khurasan.
The next day I stayed put in my lower room. Apart from my normal activities, I was interested to read Information about Mecca byAbu al-Walid al-Azraqi.* Maybe I could slake my thirst by learning more details about the city where I would be residing for a period yet to be determined. Once in a while I put the book aside and started recalling some of the notes that my wife, Fayha', had sent me before we were married and that I had memorized by heart, word for word, sentence by sentence. In doing so my purpose, as on previous occasions, was to pass the time pleasantly and provide encouragement to my very soul.