Improvement Era, 1916 by Unknown

Author:Unknown
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Religion

An Incident of Travel

BY F. E. BARKER

I stood at the point in Port Said, Egypt, where the Suez Canal enters the Mediterranean, gazing at the magnificent statue of Ferdinand De Lesseps, the genius and builder of the great canal. Suddenly I was accosted by the voice of some person on the opposite side of the boulevard. There was no mistaking it; I was recognized. In the party addressing me, I saw the troubled expression of a man past middle age, sprawled out in a resting but woe-begone attitude. On closer inspection I discerned the features of one of those typical old Syrians we had seen about the Holy Land. He bore the impression of having been greatly misused, and his first words were: "I been sheated, I been sheated! My name be Backarat-Isaac Backarat. I t'ink you know Dr. Robison-O I been sheated! I been sheated!" His modulation and also his twang were very peculiar.

FERDINAND DE LESSEPS

I could not help wondering at the salutation. What did it mean? Did he think I had cheated him? I had been led to think before I arrived at that point that one would do well if he made such a trip as I was taking without being cheated in some way. But I am going to stop here and tell you a few facts which will bring together the parts of my story.

Some days prior to the above happening our little party of three returning missionaries, in the course of our round-the-world, trip, were proceeding on board a Russian steamer from Alexandria to Jaffa, the ancient Joppa and the sea port constituting the gateway to Palestine. We had shared each other's company in travel by sea and land for many weeks, and after a few more days together, to be spent in the Holy Land, we were to separate, and I would have to pursue the rest of my journey alone.

It was very early in the morning. I had gone, the first of our party, upon deck, and by the first beams of the rising sun could see the glittering spires and rounded roofs of the city of Jaffa. I was startled by the voice (so strange in those parts) of one who could speak good English. It came addressing me very courteously, announcing that the speaker was an Englishman of liberal culture and means, and an officer in the service of the Egyptian government under the English regime, and was then taking his vacation, which he expected to spend to the extent of six weeks or more in the Holy Land. He said his intention was to go right up to a certain hospice, the Carsinova, just outside the walls of the City of Jerusalem, and present his credentials, when he would be furnished, entirely free to him, with everything he desired for a most extensive and enjoyable trip through Palestine and Syria, and that he could just as well take along a companion of his own choosing without any expense to either.

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