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There is, however, another and far more cheering side to our experiences on the road. The “stranger within the gates” is still a sacred person to these peasants, even although from an “enemy” land. There was absolutely no sign of hostility all along the line, but everywhere the greatest kindness. One and all gave me the gracious Eastern welcome, in picturesque phrases, commending me to the care of Allah; these “fanatics” from whom mere murder was the smallest evil I had been told to expect!

Though we had started, through no fault of our own, without any provision for food, I did not anticipate any serious inconvenience on this account. In these hospitable countries I knew we had only to name our need. The cheik, indeed, had been presented with two large baskets of food by his disciples, and also carried a picturesque terra-cotta water-pot, which he could refill whenever we stopped to alight.

“Eat, my children,” said he, “and when all is finished, the Lord will provide.”

“What a feast from the Song of Solomon,” I exclaimed, as the contents of his basket were disclosed—pomegranates, spices, nuts, helva (i.e., honey and nut-cheese), raisins, and bread!

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