So when the day of departure dawned (April 1; I had been in Damascus
three months) our faithful friends dwindled down to two--the Russian
Consul, and a French traveller, the Vicomte de Perrochel.
On the morning of our departure we had a very lively breakfast. As I
have said, it was our custom to let our friends drop in for this meal,
and on this occasion we found ourselves surrounded by every kind of
Eastern figure. They evidently thought us mad--especially me. My dress
was very picturesque, and I was vain enough to turn myself round and
round, at their request, that they might view it, which they did with
cries of admiration. It consisted of large yellow button boots and
gaiters, and English riding-habit with the long ends of the skirt
tucked in to look like their Eastern baggy trousers, an Eastern belt
with revolver, dagger, and cartridges. My hair was all tucked up
under the _tarbash_, and I wore one of the Bedawin veils to the waist,
only showing a bit of face. The veil was of all colours, chiefly gold
braid, bound by a chocolate and gold circlet near the forehead. Richard
slung over my back and round my neck a whistle and compass, in case of my
being lost. I had brought out two first-rate horses, both stallions, one
half-bred, the other three-quarters; they were called Salim and Harpash.
An Arab was to ride one, and lead the second when I was riding something
else. The first stallion would be good for travelling and fighting, and
the second for bolting, if needful.
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