and am stretched out upon the floor to sleep. The horses seem
restless in their stamping; the dogs keep up their barking; the
room is dark; I hear the heavy breathing of those about me; a lone
star peeps in through the small window; and I try to compose
myself for the rest that I so much need. "Is there no balm in
Gilead?" Yes. I thought that I was lying down to a night of
restlessness and fever, but never on couch of down has my rest
been sweeter.

I am awakened at dawn by some one moving about in the room, and I
see a man pick up a gun and pass quickly out. The dogs are barking
savagely throughout the village. Then I look about me. Imagine my
surprise when I discover that I have had five bed-fellows, or
rather FLOOR-FELLOWS! There we lay stretched out in all sorts of
angles and curves--American, Syrian, Circassian; Christian and
Mohammedan--forming a kind of crazy patch-work on the earthen
floor. And imagine my supreme disgust when I discover a big,
dirty, odorous, unshod human foot, erect on the heel and with toes
spread out like a fan, within a few inches of my face! Bah! How
was it that I slept! I turn my face to the wall and soon lose
thought of the disturbing vision in slumber.

It is quite late when again I wake. The host is sitting on his mat
near me fumbling beads and chanting prayers. Without moving I
watch him for a while and note that he is also interested in me,
and that he now knows that I am awake. I begin an investigation of
myself, and find, to my glad surprise, that while I am stiff and
sore I feel quite refreshed. I dress myself--a simple matter this
morning, simply putting on my shoes--and while my dragoman
prepares our breakfast I exercise myself somewhat by walking down