that it would be better to return whence I had come, especially since the desert was hot and full of hardship, the Beni Lam up in arms, etc. But I was obstinate, said that my opinion of Arab hospitality had received a rude shock, and that whatever hardships were ahead could not last longer than two days, which was not prohibitive. Finally a young Arab agreed to take me a roundabout way under cover of darkness, to act as guide, and cast me on the mercies of Mithkal Sheik of the Beni Said at the edge of the desert, to all of which I agreed except the night part. It was finally de

cided to start at the first streaks of dawn. After supper the mudir kindly took me for a walk in the desert, and then a two-hours' talk at the door of his hut, while the Arabs gathered and plied me with questions about Frankistar. As evidence of our genius in machinery, a Dover egg beater was produced, used by the mudir for making butter in small quantities. He had just brought it from Bagdad. Amid the "ajeebs" of the bystanders it was pronounced a marvel.

At dawn I was awakened by a servant who brought tea and a small piece of Arab bread. After a short delay the horses were brought, my cook and I mounted, the guide followed afoot, and with loud cries of "Ya Allah," we turned our faces into the desert.

In the Desert

Sand! sand! sand!-everywhere sand! and as the sun rose higher the glare became blinding; but I drew my kafiah well over my eyes and experienced little discomfort, except from my horse, which was blind on his port side, and persisted in drifting to starboard. Vigorous

kicks in the ribs were of no avail, the beast would only "heist," as the boys used to say, and keep on drifting, until I tied the left rein short to the saddle horn, and, thus properly "reefed in," he kept the course.

I hope that horse is dead now-he spoiled incipient spiritual thoughts.

High mounds, all that remain of some ancient Chaldean city, were scattered about, each in turn serving as a landmark, and behind each in turn the guide promised that we should see the black tents of Mithkal. When an Arab points with his beard and says: "There it is," depend on it you have still a day to travel; when he says he sees it, six hours is a low figure; when he claims to smell the camp coffee, three hours at least. Fortunately I did not know that then. And so, buoyed up with false hopes, we crept on, watering our horses at one place from a brackish pool left by the rain. At four in the afternoon the guide registered an oath by my head that behind the next landmark we would see our goal. We passed the mound, met a wandering Arab, and found that Mithkal had moved two days to the south. But on we went, hoping to find some shelter, to seek Mithkal any more being now out of the question.

But the and ad

On the horizon loomed a small camp, and thither we rode, and found to our joy that it was one of Mithkal's tents left behind for some of the horses and slaves. slaves seemed shy of me, vised me to hurry on to the edge of the desert, a distance of three hours, where Sheik Ismail might entertain us. So on again, hoping to reach Ismail before dark. But my horse now began to hang his head low, and the other to stumble painfully. At that rate we could hope to make no progress; and then, thank God! behind a slight elevation we spied a group of tents, to which we turned for shelter.

The sheik came out to meet us, took my reins and as I jumped from the saddle salaamed me warmly, and handing the horse to a servant led the way into the tent. The sun was still hot, but the cover of goat's hair gave sufficient shelter, and I stretched my weary limbs, thankful

for so much of the journey over. The tribe soon gathered, the sheik roasted, pounded and brewed the coffee at the door of the tent, and before long we were chatting in a friendly manner. I shall long remember with gratitude the gaunt Sheik Nasif, rude and rough, but a gentleman at heart. To-day, as I sit in my room at Busrah, I can still imagine myself back in that camp, can still see the traveling Persian merchant measuring out yards and yards of red and white Manchester cloth, the women busily pounding grain, and can still hear the rustle of the whispering "Sarahs" peeping at me through a hole in the flap that separated us from

the harem.

At nightfall the horses were gathcred and tethered in a circle within the camp, the fires were lighted and supper served-rice, a chicken, and a bowl of water. Careful question

ing as to our whereabouts, aided by rough observations taken by a pocket compass, revealed the fact that we were then seventy-five miles due east from Jilat Sikr on the Shatt-el-Hai. The sheik gave me choice of sleeping in the tent or under the stars. For various reasons I chose to sleep in the open, and so my blanket was spread on the sand, and a coarse camels' hair pillow swarming with fleas given for my bed. I slept soundly that night despite the dew, which by morning had the effect of fine rain. At the first streak of dawn I was awakened by the bustle and stir of the women

breaking camp. Tents were down and rolled up, and all were waiting the sheik's word to move.

And now the guide from Hataman. became sullen, and demanded more "backsheesh." He did not know the rest of the way; he was afraid to go farther, as there was a bloodfeud on between his tribe and the marsh Arabs. But after the promise of a mejidie (80 cents) he consented, and we mounted and rode on, not to

Ismail, as I first intended, but to Hassan-el-Hakkam, as canoes were more likely to be found there. Three hours brought us to the edge of the swamp where sat poor Hassan, drowned out by the recent rains, smoking a disconsolate water-pipe. There the guide left us, after vainly trying to extort more backsheesh, to the tender mercies of the drownedout sheik.

It was now ten in the morning of Monday, and the needs of the inner man began to make themselves felt. Since the evening of Saturday we had had only one meal, and that at short rations. Sheik Hassan had anticipated my needs, however, and announced that after dinner I should be free to begin my swamp journey. With eager eyes I watched for the coming platter, and when it came my heart sank-a huge slap of ricebread baked in dung-ashes, hard as leather, and a decayed fish which gave notice of its presence from afar. I fell to for hospitality's sake and tried to be happy, but it was a failThe mud-like slab would not go down, so to give the appearance of appreciation I slipped a huge chunk into my pocket, which I later shied at a mud-turtle. The fish still

ure.

haunts me. A canoe was promised

when the sun should have declined a little, and so we drearily waited in the goats'-hair tent, gasping for air in that low-lying hollow, while the desert-flies stung like needles.

Canoeing Among Robbers

At four in the afternoon an old Woman announced that her canoe was now at my service, so my box was shouldered, or, rather, "headed," and after a brief salaam we left Sheik Hassan to complain of his hard luck, and started across the swamp. It was really a beautiful ride no longer hot, the water fine and clear, the air fragrant with the odor of many marsh flowers, while gorgeous birds started up at our approach. For three hours we pad

dled steadily on, and then on asking whither I was being taken I was abruptly told that, on account of a recent feud, we should have to make a wide detour and, instead of going to Sheik Soleima, were to be cast on Sheik Mussellem. Just as the sun sank in the west Mussellem's camp hove in sight, the first of the real Ma'dan. Here and there a canoe lay idly swinging at its rope of twisted reeds, but for the rest, not a soul in sight, when all of a sudden we turned a corner and the canoe was cleverly beached in front of the of the sheik's hut, lapped on lapped on four sides by water.

Mussellem himself stepped forward, a huge, half-naked savage, with hair to his shoulders. As he gave me his hand, I said, "Dakhil," and he quietly led the way into the hut. But no sooner had I become seated than the whole tribe gathered, looking like so many water-ratschildren entirely naked, women half, and men entirely, except for a breech-cloth. The hut was filled to suffocation, men, women, children crowding closer and closer, and still coming. The first word the sheik said was, "You are a deserting officer of the Turkish army." He no doubt had good reasons for his suspicions, as my cook resembled a soldier, and with my gaiters and khakis and white head-dress, I looked considerably like some hard-luck lieutenant.

At a word from the sheik the hut was cleared and we were left alone. After five minutes the sheik and five men filed in, pointed at my box and demanded to know its contents. I assured him that it contained medicine, that I was a traveling doctor seeking to please Allah by treating the sick free. So he brought forward a gray-headed villain writhing in the agonies of colic, and said he would test my skill. Fortunately I had a bottle of morphine pills in my kit, and in five minutes the patient was calmly sleeping at my feet. My

"skill" was indicated, and in a trice all the lame,, blind and halt were summoned. The varieties of diseases treated by my twelve medicines would put an American practitioner to shame. Bicarbonate of soda, tonic and calomel, quinine and zinc sulphate, iodine, boracic acid and bromide covered the ground of the whole British pharmacopoeia.

At last the sheik cried "Enough," ordered the crowd to disperse, and when they lingered, vigorously scattered them hither and thither with his huge fists and feet. Then for an hour we sat in front of the door of the hut on a mat, while two hundred of the tribe gathered in a close semicircle about me. In the background herds of water-buffalos snorted in the water. An old woman came up, gingerly touched my glasses, and asked if I had been born with them on. A huge savage whom I had noticed came in with the sheik when I was asked to open my box, put his finger on my heart, and slowly said: “We had made up our minds to stab you there, but when we found you were a doctor we concluded to wait. Now you are safe, and we trust you." Cheering words, those! I quizzically asked whether my "dakhil" had not assured my safety, but he only answered, "We are Ma'dan."

Then the sheik made a proposition. He would build me a hut, give me his niece, a girl of fourteen, to wife, and I must stay among them. The crowd murmured in approval. The bride would be brought next morning and the ceremonies at once performed. I thanked the sheik for his kindness, assured him that I would be proud to be his nephew, but that there was one great obstacle at present-my medicine was nearly gone. If he would treat me well and give me a canoe next morning. and help me on my way, I would proceed to Amasa, replentish my stock of drugs, and if God willed, return. And I do want to return if

the Church will provide the doctor. My excuse seemed reasonable, and Mussellem promised to let me go.

After a hearty supper of buffalo milk and rice, an entertainment was planned for my benefit. The "bucks" of the tribe gathered, and filled the hut to overflowing. In the center a bunch of reeds was kept burning for light, and at my side stood the performer. He sang of the deeds of his fathers, then of the disgrace of Sheik Seihud, who two weeks before had been routed with a loss of two hundred men in an invasion into these parts. Then the singer sang of my virtues and "skill"; I was tall and supple as a marsh reed, my eyes the eyes of a young buffalo, etc. (Let the Board of Trustees take notice-examine your next candidate for buffalo eyes.) It was a strange sight, the rush-fire fitfully lighting up the savage countenances, the antics of the singer, while the water-pipe kept going the rounds.

And then I thought and started. at the thought-are these also my brethren? Must I love even these, and if need be give my life to reclaim them? Yes, if Christ died for me, for no greater sacrifice than His was ever made. O Church of the living God! in what are you better than these children of nature? Your good clothes, your education, which is, sadly enough, mostly of head and little of heart, your morals, your manners? Does He regard clothes, or a little Latin and Greek, or a code of morals or Chesterfieldian manners? Saved by grace and enlightened because we had the chance-no merit to us. The rushlight dimmed and died, but not so will the loving God quench the smoking flax.

That night I slept next to the plunder taken from Seihud a fortnight before. At dawn I asked permission to go; my box was hauled out, the canoe brought up, and when I wanted to embark a bear-like Ma'eidi quietly seated himself on my

box and refused to let it go, saying it was to be held as a guarantee of my return. But the chief rudely kicked the intruder away and we were off, to be cast on the hospitality of Kheinuba two hours down. We passed up the small stream which here has separated itself from the marsh, past miles and miles of huts, and at last into the open lake beyond. The canoe was small, the wind had risen and the waves were high; the water came in by bucketfuls, and I had already begun to calculate whether I could swim to the opposite shore now. looming up in the haze. But a Ma'eidi is a skilled canoeist, canoeist, and and he reached Kheinuba.

About half a mile from his hut we grounded the canoe to stop a leak, and then I bribed the big paddler in the stern to go on to the next camp, four hours away, where I had heard was a Nejde chief, Yuseph, who had settled among the Ma'dan. A Nejdi is always an honorable host, less treacherous than the Ma'dan, and this particular one the most powerful chief in the whole district. We threw out the guide from Mussellem, gave him a tin tobacco box and told him to be quiet, and sped on to Yuseph. Then the canoe turned into a rapid, turbulent river, on and on till Yuseph's fort came into view-a huge mud structure bearing marks of the recent fracas. We landed opposite; I got out and walked into the "mudhif" and sat in the guests' place. The whole concourse rose to salaam. I at once asked for a cigarette, and was safe, according to all rules of Arab etiquette. I think St. Paul himself would not have let a cigarette stand in the way under similar circumstances. Altho they speculated among themselves, and audibly, as to my identity and business, some questioned me directly. A young Arab swore that he knew me as a distinguished officer of the Turkish army, and to this was attributed my Arabic brogue. Feign

ing weariness, I lay down and slept to prevent further questioning. After a hearty dinner of rice and mutton, a canoe was brought up, three armed men were sent with us as guard, and we left Yuseph's camp.

Up the river, hour after hour, past mud forts recently shot to pieces, till near sunset the Turkish flag greeted our eyes, and we reached a military outpost of the government. Never before was I so glad to see the star and crescent, for it meant, at any rate, safety and bread. The mudir heartily welcomed us, brought tea, brought supper, and then we climbed to the roof of his mud-fort, for the air was close. I could have hugged that kindly Turk-no better host ever bade me welcome in an American parlor.

The next morning I left in a large canoe, with no guard, to go twenty-five miles to Amara. With us embarked an Arab woman with four children and an infant. The sun was hot, the dried skins in the canoe at my head fearfully odorous, the flies tortured, but Amara was near, and we minded nothing. About ten miles below Amara the Mujer-es-Saghir joins the Tigris with a rush.

At 4 p. m. we reached Amara, tired and hot, but happy, for the missionary and not the government expedition had drawn a fine red line across the blank space on the map.

Of what benefit was the trip into the wild country?

1. It proves that the Ma'eidi can be reached in his home, and that it is safe to go among them, if the Church will send out a young, healthy doctor, handy with the knife, who loves a little of Bohemian life for six months a year the grandest opportunity ever offered a young man to mold a whole people, numbering thousands, into the image of Christ.

2. I have an inkling that we are on the right clue to successful missionary work in Turkey. The government officials at Amara now believe me when I say that our motto is, "Glory to God and love to man.” Islam contains no such element.

3. The course of two rivers was traced and roughly mapped, soil examined, antiquities located, peculiarities of language and customs noted-all interesting side issues which may some day be of value in the regeneration of Mesopotamia.

The Protestant

of

ments twenty have no Protestant church at all, and twenty-four have but one church in each. Thus in more than one-half of the country there is not yet one church in a Department. In and around Paris they number about 60,000.

re

The Protestants are very unequally divided. In the eighty-six Depart

There are about 1,200 Protestant churches, of which 900 belong to the Eglise Réformée and 100 to the Lutherans; the remainder belong to the Free, Wesleyan, and Baptist denominations. There are also gatherings of the brethren in many parts. Then there are the mission halls of