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From: | Gwendolyn Bird |
Subject: | marine |
Date: | Mon, 28 Aug 2006 21:08:00 -0200 |
One of themwas a saloon, decorated with
flags.
During the night I managed to see the great stone
bridge by Nisib. These besetting strangers underlined his detachment, his
unwillingdetachment, from his fellows.
They asked who Iwas: volunteering that they were
Jazi Howietat.
Just at that moment the watchman on the north cried
a train. All the plain was wet,and our poor camels slithered and fell time and
again. After a time we found ourwetted shirts clammy and comfortless
things.
An Armenian dresser appeared, to wash and bandage
me in sleepyhaste. Turkish troops were passing incuriouslybetween the tents and
their latrines dug out on our side.
Our marchcrossed the railway, where were six
tracks, besides the sidings of theengine-shop.
Finally he lumbered to his feet, with a glitter in
his look,and began to paw me over.
Ali lay down on his belly, which position lessened
the hunger-ache,trying to sleep off his fever.
On its door hung a suit of shoddyclothes. It was
impossible to make a bolt for it, or the Turkswould step off the train and finish
us. All the plain was wet,and our poor camels slithered and fell time and again. The
Turks found their range and got seven of them in a fewseconds. Ali took up his
quarters in the south-eastcorner tower, and made that roof tight.
Mifleh went back to his mare, mounted, and took her
down behind a spur.
He told us the rest of the history ofthe Emir Abd
el Kader, the Algerian. There I tookbreath and looked back to see that the train had
finally stuck.
He now recovered poise enough to cling to asaddle.
Nothing came all the long hours, and dawn, which broke wet,looked even uglier than
usual. Wood, who had beenailing for some time, went down with a sharp attack of
dysentery.
They took away mybelt, and my knife, made me wash
myself carefully, and fed me. The rains guttered down withinthe walls thickness and
spouted into the rooms from their chinks. I tried to look as though, to my mind,
there was nothing worse in theworld than that.
When, however, wedid, they took a graver view, and
sent him under custody to Damascus.
This was repeated often, forwhat may have been no
more than ten minutes. This was an open He, because their camel-brands were
Faiz.
These besetting strangers underlined his
detachment, his unwillingdetachment, from his fellows. Mifleh on his mare chased
theofficers from the saloon into the lower ditch.
Just at that moment the watchman on the north cried
a train.
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