About the middle of the afternoon a soldier, full armed, dashes up
to us in a mad gallop, hands a message to my dragoman, and then as
rapidly rides back again. I am a little alarmed at this until I
learn that he has entrusted a writing to us to be delivered in
Jerusalem. A little later I see another soldier leave the group in
which he is riding and gallop ahead across the open way to the
brow of a hill. There he dismounts, lays down his gun, takes the
robe, or blanket, on which he rode, spreads it upon the ground,
faces toward Mecca, and prostrates himself in prayer. The prayer
over, he dashes down to his party and they are off like the wind.
About four o'clock we passed near a little village, the only place
where I saw a house on that long afternoon ride. It is not safe
for any one to live outside the villages; hence there are no
isolated dwellings in all this region. We did not halt for one
moment, but kept pressing steadily on.
After five o'clock the plain was deserted; we saw from that time
neither man nor beast. I was cramped and painfully tired, and
feeling that if I could but walk for a few minutes it would be
quite a relief, I dismounted - quite a difficult thing to do and
keep from sprawling upon the ground. But I was no sooner off my
horse than Haleel was beside me, and my dragoman, who was at that
time nearly a hundred yards ahead of me, rode back and sternly
commanded: "You get right back on that horse; this is no time to
think of walking; you can do that some other time." Inwardly I
resented it; how could I stand it longer! I blamed it on the
saddle, then I thought that they must have given me the worst
horse of the three. But all this helped nothing. They assisted me
again into the saddle. Then my guide delivered a little speech in
Arabic to Haleel. I did not then understand it, but shortly after
I learned the essence of it; it was, "You keep your eye on him and
see that he keeps his horse moving." When I found myself again in
the saddle I determined that if I must ride there would be no more
trotting of my horse, - I would proceed as gently as possible. But,
alas! Haleel had his whip and my dream of controlling my horse was
over. After that I kept close to my dragoman. At that time I
thought it harsh treatment, but later I understood.
We have reached the limit of level land and are now winding among
the eastern foot-hills of the mountains of Gilead. It is the hour
of sunset and the great orb of day sinks in sad beauty to me. In
the twilight I see here and there half-buried pillars of some
famous temple - a temple that surely never stood here. Our horses
are wet with sweat; we have not halted for lunch; not a drop of
water has been seen; night is coming on with its pale moon casting
weird shadows about us; we are alone in a land noted for its
lawlessness, and yet we are unarmed. We move on almost in silence.
There is silence about us, save for the cry now and then of some
night-bird. We see no lights save those above us. My guide seems
bewildered and uncertain as to the location of the town we seek. I
am faint from weariness, and so cramped that at times it is with
difficulty that I keep from falling to the ground. I am now quite
solicitous as to our safety and not a little alarmed when our way
leads through some rocky, narrow passage suggestive of a lurking-
place for men of evil intent. But at last, at half-past nine
o'clock, after being in the saddle for nine hours, I am aroused
from my stupor by a joyful exclamation from my dragoman. A few dim
lights are seen, - IT IS GERASA!
My dragoman continued his exclamations of praise thus, "I thank my
God for saving my life once more." I said faintly, "Why such
words?" "Well," he said, "all natives are expected to be in their
villages by sundown, tourists at their destination earlier. It is
the custom of this region that tourists must have an escort of
soldiers or Bedouins, even in times of peace; and now THE FEUDS
ARE ON; and here we have come alone, at night, unarmed; and I am
responsible for these horses - they are not mine - and for your
life. The ride may have been hard for you, but the hours of
anxiety were more trying to me. I have now done it once, but I'll
never again assume such a risk - NOT EVEN FOR A MILLION POUNDS!" I
had no response that he heard, but mentally I said, "Never again
with ME, Mr. Barakat. NO, NEVER!
Yet I think I never experienced greater joy on entering my own
home than on that night when entering and riding through the
crooked, narrow lanes of that miserable village of Gilead.
"At Gerasa"
CHAPTER IV.
Though in the village, and therefore relieved of the feeling of
special danger, yet we had much difficulty in securing lodging for
the night. Our arrival seemed to disturb the peace of dogdom in
what otherwise would have been a quiet resting-place. No people
were outside their houses. We picked our way to the nearest light;
the occupant of the house would not come out, but showed his face
at the window - a hole in the wall about a foot square.
