This is a specimen of
Turkish falsehood.
CHAPTER XV. GATHERING CLOUDS. (1870-1871).
One who never turned his back, but marched breast forward;
Never doubted clouds would break;
Never dreamed, though right were worsted, wrong would triumph
Held, we fall to rise again; are baffled, to fight better;
Sleep, to wake!
BROWNING.
In October Richard and I left Bludan to return to our winter quarters at
Salahiyyeh, Damascus. But as we were in a mood for excursions, we went
by a longer and roundabout route. We had a delightful ride across the
Anti-Lebanon, and then we went by way of Shtora across a mountain called
Jebel Baruk, and then a long scramble of six hours led us to the village
of Baruk, a Druze stronghold in a wild glen on the borders of the Druze
territory. We did not find our tents; but it did not signify, as we
were among friends and allies, who welcomed us. We went at once to the
Shaykh's house. Richard was always friendly with the Druzes; and as
they played an important part in our life at Damascus, I think that I
had better give some description of them. They are a fine, brave people,
very athletic. The men are tall, broad, and stalwart, with splendid
black eyes, and limbs of iron. They have proud and dignified manners,
and their language is full of poetry. They wear a long blue garment
and a white veil.
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