MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



that we had allowed him to introduce us to his 

 Anezeh. 



We were now getting near to the outskirts 

 of the camp, and though I was as sore as an 

 Aleppo button looks, under the excitement I 

 urged on. We saw a big grass plot in front 

 of a large tent. Haffez rode straight for it 

 on his mare and as he dismounted, men came 

 out and kissed him on the cheeks. All of the 

 big officials had done this when an Arab took 

 my mare and I got off. I could hardly walk 

 and the heat was making me dizzy. I tried 

 to be unconcerned, but my hips and knees were 

 about broken. Sheikli after sheikh we met, 

 and we bowed and touched our right hands to 

 our lips and foreheads as they did, and then 

 shook hands. We were led in under a big re- 

 ception tenL The bridle from my mare w^as 

 brought in and tied to the center pole of the 

 tent, denoting that we were welcome. We 

 were at last among the Fedaan Anezeh, the 

 most warlike and most uncivilized race of 

 Bedouins in the world. To be frank again, I 

 was much overcome with emotion to realize that 

 we were in the tents of the greatest war tribe 

 of Bedouins and under possibly the most fav- 

 orable conditions possible. 



[102] 



