MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



from a malady called "blues" and asked me, 

 as he pinched my side, if I had them now. 



Akmet Haffez was soon dispatching a mes- 

 senger on a Delule (racing camel) to the Ane- 

 zeh. When we inquired why, he said he was 

 telling them not to move tent, or go into war, 

 for he was coming the next day with us and 

 that it was his first visit to his tribes in nearly 

 thirty years. 



Accompanied by Akmet Haffez we then 

 called upon Nazim Pasha, the Governor of 

 Aleppo. The Governor received us warmly 

 despite our break in etiquette. He sent for 

 coffee and cigarettes, and lit mine for me. We 

 talked of many things. He held a letter from 

 President Roosevelt in one hand, and pointed 

 to God with the other. Then he said a prayer. 

 He told us that God must have brought us to 

 Akmet Haffez. At this point the old Bedouin 

 slid off the divan, and knelt in prayer. The 

 Governor continued that he wanted Haffez to 

 take us to the Great Anezeh, at which Haffez 

 slipped off the lounge again, like a mountain 

 sheep, and again knelt in prayer. When told 

 of the present I had received the Governor 

 bowed and touched his forehead, issuing a 

 characteristic grunt in a deep bass. He was 



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