MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



of his eye-balls was white. In this country such 

 a thing would be disliked in a horse, but in the 

 desert it is commonly found. 



Every time I looked at Akmet Haffez he 

 closed his fist and held it up to his head, to 

 show what a remarkable colt this was. To 

 cap the climax the Governor's son told me that 

 as he had not yet made me a present he would 

 give me this colt. With all the thanks that 

 I could scrape uj) I took him, and he was hur- 

 riedly led away to join the rest of the horses 

 which were picketed at the Maidan, just out of 

 Aleppo. 



While at the Governor's we met Hassan 

 Tasshin Pasha, the wealthiest citizen in Alep- 

 po, though an exile. The Pasha was one of 

 the most distinguished-looking men I had ever 

 seen. He was as cheerful as an exile could 

 be, and lived in the best house in Aleppo. In- 

 stead of pining over his fate he had taken to 

 breeding Arab horses, and he was a stickler for 

 fine blood and an expert with pedigrees. He 

 believed that there were very few Seglawi Jed- 

 rans left in the north of the desert, and that the 

 Hamdani Simri were confined almost to the 

 Shammar. We eagerly accepted an opportu- 

 nity to see his horses. 



[180] 



