Up to the very moment
when they set foot on the friendly warships they were robbed and
horribly abused by the Jaffa boatmen. The eternal curse of the
Wandering Jew! Driven from Russia, they come to seek shelter in Turkey;
Turkey then casts them from her under pretext that they are loyal to
Russia. Truly, the Jew lifts his eyes to the mountains, asking the
ancient and still unanswered question, "Whence shall come my help?"
The Turkish Government later repented of its leniency in allowing these
Russian Jews to escape, and gave orders that only neutrals should leave
the country--and then only under certain conditions. I was not a
neutral; my first papers of American citizenship were valueless to
further my escape. I had heard, however, that the United States cruiser
Tennessee was to call at Jaffa, and I determined to get aboard her by
hook or by crook. One evening, as soon as darkness had fallen, I bade a
sorrowful farewell to my people, and set off for Jaffa, traveling only
by night and taking out-of-the-way paths to avoid the pickets, for now
that the locust campaign was over, my _boyouroulton_ was useless. At
dawn, two days later, I slipped into Jaffa by way of the sand-dunes and
went to the house of a friend whom I could trust to help me in every
possible way, and begged him to find me a passport for a neutral.
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