Notes of Travel, Pt. III

I have begun my journey southward into the boundless desert. For those who would like to track my journey, we are first traveling westward through Kurdistan (as the Syrians are a churlish and inhospitable people) - then southward through Iraaq, the Bedouin Free State and Saudi Arabia – in our concluding leg, further westward through the disputed territories and Federated Kingdoms to the Oman Gulf.

I am traveling with a phalanx of Araby-men whom I have little trust in. These blood-thirsty jackals would cut a man's throat for the pauperous piece of sackcloth that girds his loins - I shudder to think what they would do to get their grubby hands on my handsomely-tailored Palm Beach suit.


I was formerly accompanied by a boorish and insufferable Orientalist named Arthur Loomis Bellamy. He repeatedly told me that I was on a fool’s errand, that the Muslims practice “Halaal” which forbids them from eating the “flesh of swine.”

I told him that they would change their tune once they tasted Mr. Ham’s Wet-Cured Ham.

He called me a “silly pudding-head.”

Early yesterday morning while he slept, I took my Araby-men and stole off with his canteen and camel, leaving him 125 miles from the nearest town.

That will teach him who the true silly pudding-head is.