ckster Hadifah, in the evening he summoned one of his
slaves named Dames, a rascal, if ever there was one. "O Dames," he said,
"you frequently boast of your cunning, but hitherto I have had no
opportunity of putting it to the proof." "My Lord," answered the slave,
"tell me in what way I can be useful to you." "I desire," said Hadifah,
"that you go and post yourself in the great pass. Remain in this place,
and go and hide yourself there in the morning. Watch the horses well,
and see if Dahir is in advance. If he is, show yourself suddenly, strike
him on the head, and cause him to stop, so that Ghabra may outstrip him,
and we may not incur the disgrace of defeat. For I confess that since I
have seen Dahir, his excellent points have made me doubt the superiority
of Ghabra, and I fear my mare will be beaten, and we shall become the
laughing stock of all the Arabs." "But, sir, how shall I distinguish
Dahir from Ghabra when they advance, both of them wrapped in a cloud of
dust?" Hadifah replied, "I am going to give you a sign, and to explain
how the matter may be free from difficulty." As he spoke he picked up
some stones from the ground and said: "Take these stones with you at
sunrise, begin to count them, and throw them to the earth, four at a
time. You must repeat the operation five times, and the last time Ghabra
will arrive. That is the calculation I have made, so that if a cloud of
dust presents itself to you, and some of the stones, a third or a half
of them, still remain in your hand, you may be sure that Dahir has
gained first place, and is before your eyes. You must then hurl a stone
at his head, as I said, and stop his running, so that my mare may gain
the lead." The slave agreed to do so. He provided himself with stones
and went to hide himself at the great pass, and Hadifah felt confident
of gaining the wager.

At the dawn of day, the Arabs, coming from all quarters, were assembled
on the race ground. The judges gave the signal for the start, and the
two riders uttered loud shouts. The racers started like flashes of
lightning which dazzle the sight and seemed like the wind when, as it
blows, it increases in fury. Ghabra passed ahead of Dahir and distanced
him. "Now you are lost, my brother of the tribe of Abs," cried the
Fazarean groom to the Absian, "try and console yourself for this
defeat." "You lie," retorted the Absian, "and in a few moments you will
see how completely you are mistaken. Wait till we have pass