250 
A CUUSADE IN THE EAST 
had seen, yet they were evidently larger and more commo¬ 
dious. We rode on some distance looking around us for Yusef, 
starting up sleepy dogs, and ex siting the wonder of the natives 
in our search, calling Yusef, Yusef! as we went, but it was 
not until we had reached the farthest extremity of the village 
that Yusef made his appearance. Alas, I grieve to tell it ! 
his face was very red, and he staggered a good deal, and la¬ 
bored under some difficulty in getting out his words; in short, 
it was quite plain he had been drinking arrack—a thing that 
he did a little too often for our satisfaction. “ Come dis way 
genelmen,” said he, “I’m got you a very good house. My 
niece live here—she gone down to Damascus now, but her 
husband very good man.” Here was another of Yusef’s 
nieces; I was not sorry to hear that she was gone to Damas¬ 
cus ; for somehow Yusef always wanted to delay us when his 
nieces were at home. The house was very nice and com¬ 
fortable—one of the best we had seen in our travels; it was 
situated in an inclosure, fenced in by high hedges, with a rus¬ 
tic gateway in front covered with rose bushes, and had alto¬ 
gether a rural and picturesque effect in the moonlight. The 
Arabs sitting about the door smoking their chiboucks, and the 
mules standing under the bushes with their packs, while the 
muleteers ran about shouting at a great rate and doing a 
great deal of work that amounted to nothing, were all that 
reminded us that we were in a foreign land. Without them 
we might readily have fancied that we were in a quiet little 
country village at home. 
The husband of Yusef’s niece received us with great kind¬ 
ness and hospitality. A good fire was blazing in the corner, 
near which he spread mats for us, and while we were enjoy¬ 
ing the cheeful glow of the fire, he brought us coffee and 
pipes. Here let me tell you that you who take your ease at 
home, don’t know the luxury of coffee and tobacco. Syria in 
the month of December is the place to find it out. You get 
up in the morning, after suffering all the tortures that vermin 
can inflict during the night, eat a hasty breakfast, and are 
off before sunrise. For six hours you climb scraggy mount¬ 
ains and descend horrible precipices, and then sit down on a 
