have yet
encountered. Our dogs and two muleteers were unable to face the storm,
and took refuge in caves. Old Sheikh Hamzeh fell off his pony twice,
and had to be tied on. The brave beasts struggled for eleven hours,
and crossed more than one torrent of cold water up nearly to the
girths, but by eight at night they were in a warm stable, and we had
found refuge in Hebron in the house of a German Karaite Jew, whose
hospitality was as great as his subsequent charge was high."

At times the ground was so uneven and devoid of trails, that they could
not march much faster than one mile an hour. The only human beings
they encountered were the Bedouin Arabs--sly, furtive fellows who were
always ready for a trade, but who would kill a man just as readily for
his shirt.

The slow progress, however, did not worry Kitchener particularly. He
made good use of the time in photographing old walls, caves, and
natural strongholds. For instance, five days were spent in getting
data and records of the ruins of a fortress erected at Ascalon by
Richard Coeur-de-Lion, during his famous Crusade.

Here it was that Kitchener's skill in swimming and presence of mind
were put to the test. Lieutenant Conder was swept off his horse while
fording the stream, and was in imminent danger of drowning, when
Kitchener sprang to his aid and towed him ashore.

Despite the danger and hardships, Kitchener revelled in this wild life.
One of the party says of him: "He was as good company as a man could
wish to have, full of life and good spirits. We none of us thought
much about our toilets, and he least of all. Why, after a few months'
travelling about in Palestine, he looked more like a tramp than an
officer in Her Majesty's Army. His clothes wouldn't have fetched a
three penny-bit at any 'old do' shop in Whitechapel."

It was in this first field service that he won a reputation which clung
to him through his whole career. They said that his chief amusement
was work, and his relaxation, more work. He was of seemingly tireless
energy, and never could understand the let-downs of others. The
boyhood trait of silence was also marked in the man. Although he
picked up languages easily, he used them sparingly. It was said of him
later that he could keep silent in ten languages.

In a letter home, from Palestine, he throws a sidelight on this working
phase of his nature. "The non-commissioned officers," he says, "though
ready to go through any