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THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



I asked, hardly knowing how to frame 

 my question, "Exactly what — exactly 

 whom do yon mean?" 



"I mean," he answered, "the pariah 

 dogs by day, and under cover of night — 

 well, come and see for yourselves." 



I will never forget that terrible acre 

 of earth — the low, boulder - heaped 

 mounds, and those others, the unpro- 

 tected graves, now revealed as empty, 

 scooped-out holes, whose brinks were 

 strewn about with remnants of torn-off 

 garments, among which lay vague, black- 

 ened semblances of humanity. As we 

 turned away, the apparition of a great 

 yellow pariah dog, pawing among the 

 graves, drew from us a volley of stones. 

 Then, as he slunk guiltily off, a skeleton- 

 like man sprang up from behind the wall 

 (under cover of which he had been stalk- 

 ing his prey), and, braining the beast 

 with a club, disappeared, carrying its 

 carcass with him. 



THKY WAIL, "GOD HAS FORSAKEN US" 



Having seen enough, we started to 

 leave Igdir with all the dignified speed 

 possible, being halted by unlooked-for 

 obstacles, such as impede one in an evil 

 dream. Onr farewells and thanks to the 

 American Committee^ manager seemed 

 an endless proceeding, and upon reach- 

 ing our car we found it blocked by a 

 host of humanity, who, having learned 

 that Americans were in the town, had 

 hurried in from every village to plead 

 their cause. 



The Armenian leader spoke for his 

 perishing people, the Tatar leader for his 

 people, and the Yezidi for his. And, 

 even as they spoke, old grayheads and 

 tender children alike came groveling 

 along the ground toward us on their faces 

 and kissed our feet. One old woman — 

 she sat disconsolately by the roadside 

 holding a pet animal's pelt, which was 

 recognizable by its cat's paws— wailed 

 out with an ineffable broken gesture 

 soine words that the crowd re-echoed. 



"They say," explained the manager, 

 "that they have lost all hope; that God 

 lias forsaken them." 



J shall never forget what followed. 



There arose a cry, coming from thou- 

 sands of starved lips — a cry which was 

 not a cheer, not a welcome nor Godspeed, 

 but the last prayer of a dying people. It 

 was addressed through us to that far-off 

 land of generous hearts ; and under the 

 twilight, with Ararat gleaming overhead, 

 it rang endlessly out through the death- 

 smitten town: "America! America! 

 America!" 



"For God's sake start the car out of 

 this hell-hole," stormed the doctor at me. 



We rolled through the crowd and 

 away. Four times our car broke down ; 

 once in the darkness we ran over a man's 

 corpse amid-road, and all the way home 

 the doctor and I were quarreling vio- 

 lently on every conceivable subject. 



One sight alone cheered us. It was a 

 long line of ox-carts, heaped high with 

 bags of American flour, moving slowly 

 across the thirty miles of country which 

 lie between the railroad and Igdir. Upon 

 breasting it we halted our car, jumped 

 up, and shouted at the ox-drivers like 

 mad men. 



I don't quite know what we shouted, 

 except that it meant "Hurry, hurry, 

 hurry !" And all that night long, on onr 

 train bound Tiflisward, I heard the doc- 

 tor walking up and down his end of the 

 car, even as I was walking up and down 

 my end of it. 



THE} HOPE FOR A SMITTEN PEOPLE 



When we met at breakfast next morn- 

 ing, a little shamefaced and with decid- 

 edly effusive goodfellowship, I rediscov- 

 ered him to be the same genial, courteous 

 soul whom I had known before we had 

 experienced a famine country's horrors. 

 There were apologies for recent rude- 

 ness. He mentioned indigestion, I men- 

 tioned liver, and neither of us mentioned 

 nerves. 



Behind us, spectrally pale, against the 

 heaven's blue, faded the last of Ararat. 

 Silently we shared our last glimpse of 

 it — shared, too, our hope for a smitten 

 people who despaired lest God had for- 

 saken their Sinai and them. Suddenly 

 the doctor uttered my very thought : 



"God bless America!" he said; "for 

 America, with God's help, will do it !" 



