and
"buraries" or wilds of the Syrian and Arabian deserts. He is also like a
ship in making people sea-sick who ride on his back, and because he has
a strong odor of tar and pitch like the hold of a ship, which sometimes
you can perceive at a long distance.

PART II.

Perhaps you would like to take a ride with me some day, and visit some
of the missionary stations in Syria. What will you ride? The horses are
gentle, but you would feel safer on a donkey. Mules are sometimes good
for riding, but I prefer to let them alone. I never rode a mule but
once. I was at Hasbeiya, and wished to visit the bitumen wells. My horse
was not in a condition to be ridden, so I took Monsur's mule. It had
only a jillal or pack saddle, and Monsur made stirrups of rope for me.
My companions had gone on in advance, and when I started, the mule was
eager to overtake them. All went well until we approached the little
stream which afterwards becomes the River Jordan. The ground was
descending, and the road covered with loose stones. The rest of our
party were crossing the stream and the mule thought he would trot and
come up with them. I tried to hold him in with the rope halter, but he
shook his head and dashed on. About the middle of the descent he
stumbled and fell flat upon his nose. I went over his head upon my
hands, but my feet were fast in the rope stirrups. Seeing that he was
trying to get up, I tried to work myself back into the saddle, but I had
only reached his head, when he sprang up. I was now in a curious and not
very safe situation. The mule was trotting on and I was sitting on his
head holding on to his ears, with my feet fast in the rope stirrups. A
little Arab boy was passing with a tray of bread upon his head and I
shouted to him for help. He was so amused to see a Khowadja with a hat,
riding at that rate on a mule's head, that he began to roar with
laughter and down went his tray on the ground and the Arab bread went
rolling among the stones. It was a great mercy that I did not fall under
the brute's feet, but I held on until he got the other side of the
Jordan, when a man ran out from the mill and stopped him. Monsur now led
him by the halter and I reached the bitumen wells in safety.

You can mount your donkey and Harry will ride another, and I will ride
my horse, and we will try a Syrian journey. As we cannot spare the time
to go from Beirut to Tripoli by land, I have sent Ibrahim to take the
animals along the sh