II

I Seek Shelter and Find It


"This is a fine piece of business," I said to myself, springing to my
feet. And then I called as loudly as my lungs would permit for
Hippopopolis. It was really exhilarating to do so. The name lends
itself so readily to a sonorous effect. The hills fairly echoed and
re-echoed with the name, but no answer came, and finally I gave up in
disgust, seeking meanwhile the very inadequate shelter of a tree, to
keep the rain off. A more woe-begone picture never presented itself, I
am convinced. I was chilled through, shivering in the dampness of the
night, a steady stream of water pouring upon and drenching my
clothing, void of property of an available nature, and lost in a
strange land. To make matters worse, I was familiar only with classic
Greek, which language is utterly unknown in those parts to-day, being
spoken only by the professors of the American school at Athens and the
war correspondents of the New York Sunday newspapers--a fact, by the
way, which probably accounts for the latter's unfamiliarity with
classic English. It is too much in these times to expect a man to
speak or write more than one language at a time. Even if I survived
the exposure of the night, a horrid death by starvation stared me in
the face, since I had no means of conveying to any one who might
appear the idea that I was hungry.

Still, if starvation was to be my lot, I preferred to starve dryly
and warmly; so, deserting the tree which was now rather worse as a