8 p.m. in a mountain defile. We were all dead-beat, and so were the
horses. At night I had fever, and a hurricane of wind and rain nearly
carried our tents away. On the second day we rode from dawn to sunset,
with the driving wind and the sand in our faces, filling eyes, ears,
nose, and mouth. I felt so cold, tired, and disheartened, that as
I sat in my saddle and rode along I cried for about two hours, and
Richard and the others laughed at me. Whilst I was crying we saw a
body of mounted Bedawin dodging about in the mountains. So I
dried my eyes, and rode on as hard as I could pelt until we reached
Karyatayn at sunset; but I had to be lifted off my horse, and could
not stand for minutes.

All clamoured to rest one day at Karyatayn. We had already been riding
for two days hard, and were simply done up. The muleteers mutinied, and
said that their backs were broken and their beasts dead-beat. There was
only one person in the camp not tired, and that was Richard, who seemed
made of cast iron. He said, "You may all remain here, but I shall ride
on to Damascus alone, for on Friday the English and Baghdad mails come
in, and I must be at my post." All the responsibility then fell upon me,
for they all said if I would remain they would be glad. But the idea of
Richard riding on alone through the desert infested with Bedawin was not
to be entertained by me for one moment, so I said, "On we go."

The next morning we left early. I tried at first to ride in the panniers
of one of the camels; but it bumped me so unmercifully that after half an
hour I begged to be let down. Camel-riding is pleasant if it is at a
long trot; but a slow walk is very tedious, and I should think that a
gallop would be annihilation. When I got down from my camel, I mounted
my horse, and galloped after the rest, and in time got to my place behind
Richard. I always rode a yard or two behind him. In the East it would