MY QUEST OF THE ARAB HORSE 



affected us more than if we had not been travel- 

 ing" the previous night, so I planned a new pro- 

 gramme. We would start that evening at six 

 and ride three hours, then rest during the com- 

 paratively cool night so that the little colts 

 might sleep. 



The men of the caravan objected to this and 

 threatened to leave us, but I insisted, and so, 

 backed up by Thompson and Moore (even 

 though the latter was sick, he looked to them 

 big enough to lick a dozen Arabs), they 

 stayed. That plan saved us. We camped at 

 nine-thirty and at ten the young horses were all 

 asleep, and when we started at three in the 

 morning, some of the two-year-olds were hard 

 to hold. We rode from three to seven, and 

 then stopped until evening. 



At sundown Moore was getting steadily 

 worse. I was watching the pious Bedouins 

 performing their evening devotions with their 

 faces towards the east when I turned to look 

 at the sunset. It occurred to me, seeing 

 Moore's condition, that the west was the place 

 for us to pray towards and said so to Moore. 

 He was so sick he could hardly hold up his 

 head, but he managed to lift himself a little 

 and said that if we could manage to hurry him 



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