"Escape" to the Arabs
303
MAJOR ABDULLAH EL TEL
I ROSE from the mat, my body aching in every joint from
contact with the hard floor. I was also scratching violently. Not
a breath of fresh air had been allowed in during the night. I
was almost reeling from the effects. I went to the door and
breathed deeply. I purposely did not shave, in order to be
more passable among my new companions. Zaki called me
over gruffly:
''Show me the route you took."
I found the house with the chicken coop. "I jumped over
this stone fence." Then I traced roughly my path of the previous night. Zaki said nothing as we went back to headquarters
and we started off at once for the Old City. I shouldered my
bag and, with Zaki and Ismail on one side and two husky
Arabs on the other, we trudged the hour's distance across the
Biblical valleys of Hinnom, Kidron, and Jehoshaphat to the
Old City.
Traffic streamed in from Jericho as we entered from Stephen's Gate. I rubbed my eyes at the cans of gasoline lined up
for sale, the quantities of food, lemonade, pushcart vendors,
trucks and taxis, the mass of humanity seething inside and
outside the gate. This contrasted violently with what I had
seen only yesterday in the New City, where the only vehicles
on the streets were army trucks; where people kept indoors
and chewed thin slices of bread slowly to make them last
longer. Zaki ordered one of the Arabs to seize my bag, apparently to discourage me from making a break. Through the
long walk he had hardly spoken to me, nor had the others. I
was treated as a pariah. I yearned for Moustafa's companionship, instead of this unholy company. We stopped in front of
El Raudat. It was a beehive of milling, chattering, excited
Arabs.