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From: | Mat Sloan |
Subject: | [Info-gne] assoc. feign |
Date: | Mon, 11 Sep 2006 18:18:07 -0200 |
Pain of the slightest had been my obsession and
secret terror, from aboy. He wasborn in Boreida, and while young had suffered from
the civil power forhis impiety.
I needed hard riders and hard livers; men proudof
themselves, and without family.
There was a sentry outside, and aglimpse of others
lolling in the dark entry.
When, however, wedid, they took a graver view, and
sent him under custody to Damascus.
The Beduincaught the Turks moving, and cut up the
hindmost battalion.
His long black hair was carefully braided into
three shining plaitsdown each cheek. The night passed in these mutual
conversations.
His own adventures had been
unprofitable.
HE SENT ME BACK AT ONCE TO FEISAL WITH NEW POWERS
ANDDUTIES.
They asked who Iwas: volunteering that they were
Jazi Howietat.
We walked downthe steeper portions of the pass, and
then stumbled along Wadi Hafira. We began tofear that the idol might betray a
frailty. His mouth wassensual, loose, wet; and gave him a good-humoured, half
cynicalexpression. He turned, stared at me, andsaid very slowly You are a liar. They
mighthave entered it safely, had there been point in doing so. It was momentlybetter
than more flogging.
We shook him off at last and turned away. We walked
downthe steeper portions of the pass, and then stumbled along Wadi
Hafira.
He turned, stared at me, andsaid very slowly You
are a liar. Sowe battened on our ill reputation, which was an ungenerous
stratagem,but the easiest.
Nextmorning he made a second progress through the
district. There was one which went on riding wisely, sparingor helping every pace of
the wearied camel.
He told us the rest of the history ofthe Emir Abd
el Kader, the Algerian.
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