"Never," he says, "shall I forget the feeling of loneliness that came
over me as I made my way back to my room. The thought that I was
the only Christian in the whole district was one that I cannot well
describe."
As Forder passed a group of Arabs he heard them muttering to one
another, "_Nisraney_[69]--one of the cursed ones--the enemy of Allah!"
He remembered that he had been warned that the Arabs of Kaf were
fierce, bigoted Moslems who would slay a Christian at sight. But he
put on a brave front and went to the Chief's house. There he sat down
with the men on the ground and began to eat with them from a great
iron pot a hot, slimy, greasy savoury, and then sipped coffee with
them.
"Why have you come here?" they asked him.
"My desire is," he replied, "to pass on to the Jowf."
Now the Jowf is the largest town in the Syrian desert--the most
important in all Northern Arabia. From there camel caravans go north,
south, east, and west. Forder could see how his Arabic New Testaments
would be carried from that city to all the camel tracks of Arabia.
"The Jowf is eleven days' camel ride away there," they said, pointing
to the south-east.
[Illustration: FORDER'S JOURNEY TO THE JOWF.]
"Go back to Orman," said the Chief, whose name was Mohammed-el-Bady,
"it is at your peril that you go forward.
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