A lean-faced old man the Sheik was, heavily bearded with white, his brows snowy, his eyes a hawk's, and the fine aquilinity of his nose the hallmark of pure Arab blood.
Hard as iron he looked, gravely observing, unabashed in face of these white strangers and of this mysterious flying house.

The very spirit of the Arabian sun seemed to have been caught in his gleaming eyes, to glitter there, to reflect its pride, its ardor.

He reminded one of a falcon, untamed, untamable.

And his dress, its colors distinguishing him from the mass of his followers, still further proclaimed the rank he occupied.
His cherchia of jade-green silk was bound with a _ukal_, or fillet of camel's-hair; his burnous, also silk, showed tenderest shades of lavender and rose.

Under its open folds could be seen a violet jacket with buttons of filigree ivory.