rivers. After a while we saw corpses on the shores of these lakes.
Then we began seeing them along the path: twisted corpses,
blackened by the sun, and bloated. Their stench was horrible.
Vultures circled the skies above us, waiting for their evening meal.
At one point, we came upon a small hole in the ground. It was a
little deeper than average height and 25 to 30 people could easily
fit in it. We lowered ourselves down into it. There was no water in
it but the bottom was muddy. We began sucking on the
mud. Some of the women made teats with
their shirts filled with mud and suckled on
them like children. We were there for about a half hour. If
we hadn’t been forced out, that would have been our best grave.
Many days later we reached the Euphrates River, and despite the
hundreds of bodies floating in it, we drank from it. We quenched
our thirst for the first time since our departure. They put us on
small boats and we crossed to the other side. From there we
walked all the all the way to Ras-ul-Ain. Of a caravan of nearly
10,000 people, there were now only some 300 of us left. My aunt,
my sisters, my brothers had all died or disappeared. Only my mother
and I were left. We decided to hide and take refuge with some
Arab nomads. My mother died there under their tents. They did not
treat me well-they kept me hungry and beat me often and they
branded me as their own.
b. 1906, Sepastia