MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



ly mine, an Oregon make with the latest cow- 

 boy seat. I drew them a picture, showing 

 what the horn was for, and after that, 

 wherever we went the first thing they wanted 

 me to do was to draw the picture of the cowboy 

 throwing the steer. 



Soon after meeting Akmet Haffez I had 

 told him that I was not a government buyer 

 and, indeed was not a rich man. I made it 

 clear to him that while I was prepared to pay 

 good honest prices and did not propose to 

 "jew" anybody down, still I did not intend to 

 be cheated. Government agents do not have to 

 be particular about prices and consequently the 

 Anezeh have been spoiled. The money values 

 they set on their horses are sometimes aston- 

 ishing, considering what labor in the desert is 

 worth. 



My old friend put his arm around my shoul- 

 ders and told me that he would tell everybody 

 we met and everybody whose horses we cared 

 to see, that, unless they thought enough of 

 him, Akmet Haffez and his friendshij) to sell 

 on reasonable terms, we would buy no horses 

 at all. And this he did in a speech to the great 

 throng of Bedouins present. I had come 

 there, he declared, to study the Arab horse in 



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