Nevertheless, I was so deadly afraid of him that I saw my forty-nine
fellow-passengers leave me, one after the other, while I still
hesitated and eyed him suspiciously. Perhaps I never would have
mounted had not Imam, the dragoman, with the frank unceremoniousness
of the East, caught me up in his arms and landed me on my donkey
before I could protest. And in the face of his childish smile of
confidence I could only gasp. We moved off with the majesty of a
funeral procession.
"What's the name of my donkey?" asked my companion.
"Cleveland," came the answer like a flash.
We were enchanted.
"And what's the name of mine?" I asked.
"McKinley!"
Then we shouted. You have no idea how funny it sounded to hear those
two familiar names in such strange surroundings. We nearly tumbled off
in our delight, and so quick are those clever little donkey-boys to
watch your face and divine your mood that in a second they gave that
Weird, long-drawn donkey call, "Oh-h-ah-h!" and my companion's donkey
swung into a gentle trot, with her donkey-boy running behind, beating
him with a stick and pinching him in the legs.
Pages:
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259