THE WAR MARE IN THE DESERT 



wicker stools for us to sit on. On the tables 

 was spread bread about an eighth of an inch 

 thick and this served as a table cloth. The 

 bread baked on rocks in the sun, was made of 

 barley and wheat rolled, and now and then in 

 eating it you came to a full stop ; a period as it 

 were, consisting of a small gravel. In the cen- 

 ter of the table was a large mound of finely- 

 cooked rice and on top of this mound was a 

 roasted head of sheep. The carcass, nicely 

 roasted, was strewn around the mound of rice 

 at intervals. There were red, yellow and green 

 melons; egg plant, chicken cut up fine, and 

 clabber milk of the goat, sheep, camels and 

 cows. There were grape leaves rolled with 

 rice in the center and there were fine light green 

 grapes and fresh figs. To drink there was a 

 mixture of sour milk and water. 



When we sat down, I saw Akmet Haffez 

 rolling up his sleeves. I saw no plates, 

 knives or forks, or even spoons, but I took the 

 hint quicker than Jack or Arthur. Possibly I 

 had always lived nearer to the ground than 

 they. Akmet Haffez had no sooner plunged 

 into the rice than I did the same. His motions 

 were easy to imitate, still the Bedouins laughed 

 heartily at the quick way I mastered their 



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