ABSTRACT
R e t u r n in g from India in 1929 on the way from Basra to Baghdad I was led by the lure of the past to step off at Ur of the Chaldees Junction for a visit to the excavations. But a sudden sandstorm on the desert held me marooned for the day at the Government Guest House which, although the season was over, was fortunately still open under the care of an Indian servant. As I sat in the empty house listening to the wild fury of the wind whipping the sand against the windows, and realized that I was quite alone and cut off from human contacts-even the Indian care taker was outside in the servants’ quarters-I was over whelmed by a sense of isolation. Suddenly I was awakened from reflections over my complete remoteness from the outside world by voices and immediately, without waiting for an answer to their knock, two French aviators taking refuge from the storm burst into the room. On their way from Paris to Saigon, as I learned, they had been forced down because of the hurricane, fortunately landing near the guest-house. Three days before, they had left Paris, the day before had lunched at the Pera Palace Hotel in Istanbul and a few hours later had passed over Aleppo. Impatient at the delay, as soon as the storm began to subside, they resumed their flight to Saigon. As I waved farewell I realized anew, as I had many times in the months just preceding, the reality of change in the East to-day.
