THE UNPOPULAR LANDOWNER
I had decided to buy land and settle down in Syria; and had obtained
consent from home upon condition that I did not spend more than a
certain sum of money, not a large one, which, Suleymân had told me,
would be quite sufficient for the purpose. He pointed out how lands,
at present desert, and to be bought for a mere song, could be rendered
profitable for the cost of bringing water to them. There was such a
tract of land adjacent to the village where he had a house, with water
running under it at no great depth. Rashîd, my servant, did not like
this notion of converting deserts into gardens. He called it simple
waste of time and labour, when gardens ready made were going cheap.
There was a nice estate, with two perennial springs within its
boundaries, near his village in the north. His people would be proud
and gratified if I would honour their poor dwelling while inspecting
it. Suleymân lamented that his house was quite unworthy of my
occupation, but proposed to have a fine pavilion pitched outside it,
if I would deign to grace the village as his guest.
'Depend upon it,' said an Englishman whom I consulted on one of my
rare visits to the city, 'the land they recommend belongs to their
relations. They will sell it you for twenty times the market value,
and then adhere to you like leeches till they've sucked you dry.' He
added: 'I advise you to give up the whole idea,' but I was used to
that advice, and firm against it.
His warning against native counsellors, however, weighed with me to
this extent, that I determined to ignore the lands they recommended in
their neighbourhood. Each was at first cast down when I announced this
resolution. But presently Rashîd exclaimed: 'No matter where we dwell.
I still shall serve thee'; and Suleymân, after smoking his narghîleh a
long while in silence, said: 'Each summer I will visit thee and give
advice.'
All three of us then set to work upon inquiries. Innumerable were the
sheykhs who seemed to be in money difficulties and wished to sell
their land. Some owners journeyed forty miles to come and see me, and
explain the great advantage of their property. But, knowing something
of the Land Code, I inquired about the tenure. I wanted only 'mulk' or
freehold land; and 'wakf' (land held in tail or mortmain) of various
and awful kinds is much more common. At last a sheykh came who
declared his land was 'mulk,' and certain of our neighbours, men of
worth, testified of their certain knowledge that he spoke the truth.
The village where the property was situated was a long day's journey
from our own. A fortnight after my discussion with the owner Suleymân
and I set out on our way thither, having sent Rashîd ahead of us to
find a decent lodging, since it was our intention to remain there
several days.
The village was arranged in steps upon a mountain side, the roofs of
houses on the lower level serving as approach to those above. On all
the steep slopes round about it there were orchards, with now and then
a flat-roofed house among the trees.
Rashîd came out to meet us, accompanied by certain of the elders,
among whom I looked in vain for the owner of the land we were to
visit. My first inquiry was for him. Rashîd replied: 'He is unpopular.
I went to the chief people of the village'--he waved his hand towards
the persons who escorted him--'and they have set apart a house and
stable for your Honour's use.'
The house turned out to be a single room, cube-shaped, and furnished
only with some matting. The stable, part of the same building, was
exactly like it, except that it was open at one end.
We had our supper at a tavern by the village spring, surrounded by a
friendly crowd of fellâhîn. Again I looked for the old gentleman whom
I had come to see, and whispered my surprise at not beholding him.
Rashîd again replied: 'He is unpopular.'
Returning to the house with me, Rashîd arranged my bed; put candle,
matches, cigarettes within my reach; fastened the shutters of two
windows; and retired, informing me that he and Suleymân were sleeping
at the dwelling of the headman of the place.
I had got into my bed upon the floor when there came a knocking on
the solid wooden shutters which Rashîd had closed. I went and opened
one of them a little way. It was moonlight, but the window looked into
the gloom of olive trees. A voice out of the shadows questioned:
'Is it thou, the Englishman?'
It was the owner of the land, who then reproached me in heartbroken
tones because I had not let him know the hour of my arrival, that he
and his three sons might have gone forth upon the road to meet me. The
owners of the place where now I lodged were his chief enemies. He
begged me to steal forth at once and come with him. When I refused, he
groaned despairingly and left me with the words:
'Believe not anything they say about us or the property.'
I closed the shutter and went back to bed. But it was hot. I rose
again and opened both the windows so as to secure whatever breeze
there was, and, after a long spell of angry tossing due to sandflies,
fell asleep. When I awoke the room was full of daylight and a murmur
which I first mistook for that of insects, but soon found out to be
the voice of a considerable crowd of human beings. At every window was
a press of faces and of women's head-veils, and children raised upon
their mothers' shoulders. I heard a child's sad wail: 'O mother, lift
me up that I, too, may behold the unbeliever!'
I made haste to cover myself somehow, for in my sleep I had kicked off
the bedclothes, and commanded all those women to be gone immediately.
They merely grinned and wished me a good day, and then discussed my
personal appearance, the whiteness of my skin, and more particularly
my pyjamas, with much interest. This went on till Rashîd appeared upon
the scene, bringing my india-rubber bath and a kerosene tin full of
water. He closed and bolted all the shutters firmly, with stern
reflections on the lack of shame of my admirers.
I told him of the visit of the owner of the land.
He answered as before: 'He is unpopular.'
I asked the reason, and he told me:
'There are in this part of the country two factions which have existed
from old time. All the people in this village are adherents of one
faction, except that old man and his children, who uphold the other.
The people would not mind so much if he kept silent, but he gibes at
them and vaunts his party upon all occasions. They intend to kill him.
That is why he wants to sell. It is good to know this, since it gives
us an advantage.'
Suleymân arrived. We all three breakfasted on slabs of country bread
and a great bowl of curds, and then went out to view that old man's
land. The sheykh--whose name was Yûsuf--and his sons were there to
show us round, and, though the property was not extensive, they
contrived to keep us there till noon, when a round meal was spread for
us beneath some trees. And after that was finished, the sheykh availed
himself of some remark of mine to start the whole perambulation once
again.
At last it came to mention of the price, which seemed to me excessive,
and I said so to my friends.
Rashîd replied: 'Of course! The business has not yet begun. To-morrow
and the next day we shall view the land again; and after that we shall
arrange for the appointment of two valuers, one for us and one for
him, who will inspect the land, first separately, then together; and
after that we shall appoint an arbiter who will remonstrate with the
owner of the land; and after that----'
'But the business will take months.'
'That is the proper way, unless your Honour wishes to be cheated.'
'What is your opinion?' I inquired of Suleymân.
'The land is good, and capable of much improvement,' he replied, 'and
all the trees go with it, which is an advantage. Also the source of
water will be all our own.'
Suleymân repeated this remark in presence of the crowd of villagers
whom we found awaiting our return before my house. At once there rose
a cry: 'That Yûsuf is a liar. Some of the trees do not belong to him.
The water, too, does not originate upon his property, but on the hill
above, so can be cut from him.'
Suleymân was talking with the village headman. When he returned to me
his face was grave.
'What is it?' I inquired. 'Has the Sheykh Yûsuf been deceiving us?'
He shook his head with a disgusted frown before replying:
'No, it is these others who are lying through dislike of him. Is your
heart set upon the purchase of that land?'
'By no means.'
'That is good; because this village is a nest of hornets. The headman
has long marked that land out for his own. Were we to pay Sheykh Yûsuf
a good price for it, enabling him to leave the neighbourhood with
honour, they would hate us and work for our discomfort in a multitude
of little ways. We will call upon the Sheykh to-morrow and cry off the
bargain, because your Honour caught a touch of fever from the land
to-day. That is a fair excuse.'
We proffered it upon the morrow, when the Sheykh Yûsuf received it
with a scarce veiled sneer, seeming extremely mortified. Directly
after we had left him, we heard later, he went down to the tavern by
the village spring and cursed the elders who had turned my mind
against him in unmeasured terms; annoying people so that they
determined there and then to make an end of him.
Next morning, when we started on our homeward way, there was a noise
of firing in the village, and, coming round a shoulder of the hill in
single file we saw Sheykh Yûsuf seated on a chair against the wall of
his house, and screened by a great olive tree, the slits in whose old
trunk made perfect loopholes, blazing away at a large crowd of hostile
fellâhîn. He used, in turn, three rifles, which his sons kept loading
for him. He was seated, as we afterwards found out, because he had
been shot in the leg.
I was for dashing to his rescue, and Rashîd was following. We should
both have lost our lives, most probably, if Suleymân had not shouted
at that moment, in stentorian tones: 'Desist, in the name of the
Sultan and all the Powers of Europe! Desist, or every one of you shall
surely hang!'
Such words aroused the people's curiosity. The firing ceased while we
rode in between them and their object; and Suleymân assured the
villagers politely that I was the right hand and peculiar agent of the
English Consul-General, with absolutely boundless power to hang and
massacre.
Upon the other hand, we all three argued with Sheykh Yûsuf that he
should leave the place at once and lay his case before the Governor.
'We will go with him,' said Suleymân to me, 'in order that your Honour
may be made acquainted with the Governor--a person whom you ought to
know. His property will not be damaged in his absence, for they fear
the law. The heat of war is one thing, and cold-blooded malice is
another. It is the sight and sound of him that irritates them and so
drives them to excess.'
At length we got the Sheykh on horseback and upon the road; but he was
far from grateful, wishing always to go back and fight. We could not
get a civil word from him on the long ride, and just before we reached
the town where lived the Governor he managed to escape.
Rashîd flung up his hands when we first noticed his defection. 'No
wonder that he is unpopular,' he cried disgustedly. 'To flee from us,
his benefactors, after we have come so far out of our way through
kindness upon his account. It is abominable. Who, under Allah, could
feel love for such a man?'