itude. Ah, he smiles! The
sunshine of satisfaction chases the clouds of anxiety and doubt from
his countenance, and that dark face looks beautiful to me. He is happy,
and I share in his happiness. Our muleteer and horses are awaiting us.

"Among Bedouins"

CHAPTER III.

At twelve o'clock our train stopped. I was quickly introduced to him
who had been awaiting us, and who was now to join our party--"Haleel,"
of Jerusalem. He was dressed in typical Eastern fashion, wearing the
wide pantaloons, flowing robe, and "kufiyeh"; he was apparently
twenty-five years old, dark-skinned, and blind in one eye; he could not
speak a word of English; and he was a devout Mohammedan. "Haleel, of
Jerusalem!" Notwithstanding his fantastic appearance, the name and
place of residence seemed to me a blending of mystery and sacredness. I
did not hesitate to extend a cordial greeting, and his smile of
confused interest as I tried to shake hands with him while he tried to
give me an Oriental salutation won me to him. It was his only
intelligible language to me, but it was sufficient to give me assurance
of his friendship, and I was beginning to feel that from that hour I
should need friends. The salutation that Haleel offered to me was a
quick, graceful movement of his hand toward my feet, next to his lips,
and then lightly to his forehead. I had seen the natives do this in
exchanging salutations, and now that it had been offered to me I sought
an interpretation. My guide explained that Haleel meant to tell me that
he felt so honored in meeting me, that he "would take the dust from my
feet, would kiss it, and then place it on his forehead." Beautiful
sentiment! Had I ever previously in my life been so honored in meeting
any one!

The greeting over, I noticed unusual movements about the station. Many
Turkish soldiers were there. They stood about in groups engaged in
animated conversation. Upon inquiry I learned that the feuds so common
in that region were again "on," and that the soldiers were there to
quell lawlessness. As I was the only tourist there I became an object
of special interest. Some of the men came to my dragoman, and only a
few words had passed until I knew that I was the subject of their
conversation. I could occasionally catch the word "hawadje," which
means "master," and I knew they were referring to me. Then they would
look at me and shake their heads. I was anxious to know what it all
meant, but had to be content wi