A dervish was walking along a river bank. He was deep in thought, deliberating upon theological issues. Suddenly he heard a shout, someone was repeating the dervish call. “There is no point in that,” he said to himself, “because the man is mispronouncing the syllables. Instead of YA HU, he is saying U YA HU.” But then he thought it was his duty to correct this person and make him understand the idea behind the sound. So he hired a boat, and set off to the island in the river, from where the sound emanated. There he found a man dressed in a dervish robe, repeating the sacred phrase. “My friend,” said the first dervish: “You are mispronouncing the phrase. This is the way in which you speak it.” And he told him. The other dervish thanked him profusely. Happy, the first dervish set off for the mainland. After all, it was said, one who could repeat the sacred formula correctly could even walk on water. But then he heard another U YA HU emerge from the island, and regretted people’s inability to improve. It was followed by a strange sight. From the island, the other dervish was coming towards him, briskly walking on the surface of water. Said he: “Brother, I am sorry to bother you, but I have come out again to ask you the standard method of making the repetition because it is difficult to remember.”