ile the
Assyrians and Armenians were being hunted through the mountains, lies
there dreamless on the mountain side.

These are words that broke from the lips of Assyrian sheiks when they
heard of his death:

"He bore the burdens of the whole nation upon his shoulders to the
last breath of his life.

"As long as we obeyed his advice and followed his lead we were safe
and prosperous, but when we ceased to do that destruction came upon
us. He was, and ever will be, the Moses of the Assyrian people."

He lies there where his heart always was--in that land in which the
Turk, the Assyrian, the Armenian, the Persian, the Russian and the
Arab meet; he is there waiting for the others who will go out and
take up the work that he has left, the work of carrying to all those
eastern peoples the love of the Christ whom Dr. Shedd died in serving.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 63: Born January 25th, 1865. Graduated Marietta College,
Ohio, 1887, and Princeton Theological Seminary, 1892.]

CHAPTER XXVI

AN AMERICAN NURSE IN THE GREAT WAR

_E.D. Cushman_

(Time 1914-1920)

_The Turk in Bed_

The cold, clear sunlight of a winter morning on the high plateau of
Asia Minor shone into the clean, white ward of a hospital in Konia
(the greatest city in the heart of that land). The hospital in which
the events that I am going to tell in this story happened is supported
by Christian folk in America, and was established by two American
medical missionaries, Dr. William S. Dodd, and Dr. Wilfred Post, with
Miss Cushman, the head nurse, sharing the general superintendence:
other members of the staff are Haralambos, their Armenian dispenser
and druggist, and Kleoniki, a Greek nurse trained by Miss Cushman. The
author spent the early spring of 1914 at the hospital in Konia, when
all the people named above were at work there.

The tinkle of camel-bells as a caravan of laden beasts swung by, the
quick pad-pad of donkeys' hoofs, the howl of a Turkish dog, the cry
of a child--these and other sounds of the city came through the open
window of the ward.

On a bed in the corner of the ward lay a bearded man--a Turk--who
lived in this ancient city of Konia (the Iconium of St. Paul's day).
His brown face and grizzled beard were oddly framed in the white of
the spotless pillow and sheets.

His face turned to the door as it opened and the matron entered. The
eyes of the Turk as he lay there followed her as she walked toward
one of her deft,