We leave Angora—The Effendi wants a turkey—A very old
cock—The cooking-pot—An Armenian woman on horseback—Baggage
upset in the river—Cartridges in the water—Osman castigating
the delinquent—Delayed on the road—Asra Yuzgat—How the
inhabitants build their houses—The Caimacan—His house—His
servants undress him—He goes to bed—All the cartridges
spoiled.
My host was up at daybreak to see me off.
"Come and see me in England," I said.
"If Allah pleases, I will," was my friend's reply, and I only hope that
I may have the opportunity of returning Suleiman Effendi's hospitality.
The road was hard and good for a few miles, we rode for some time by
the Ayash river.
After marching for about five hours, we came to a small farm-house.
It was on the opposite bank of the river to ourselves; but there was a
ford, and as there was no wood on our side of the stream, I determined
to cross and halt an hour for lunch. The house belonged to an Armenian.
It was filthily dirty. Vermin could be seen crawling in all directions
on the rugs. In consequence of this, I resolved to make our fire
outside, and lunch in the open air. There were some turkeys in the
farm-yard, and the proprietor coming up, I desired Osman to purchase
one of the birds.
"The Effendi wants a turkey," said Osman to the farmer.
This announcement at once created a great commotion among the female
portion of the Armenian household—the turkeys being looked upon by the
women in the establishment as their own particular property.
"What for?" said an elderly dame, whose face was bound up in what
appeared to be a dish-cloth.
"To eat."
"Have you any money?" asked the woman suspiciously.
"Money?" said Osman indignantly; "much money. We can afford to eat
turkey every day! Now, then, how much for this one?" pointing to an old
bird, apparently the paterfamilias of the brood.
"Osman is an ass, sir," here interfered Radford. "That is a very old
cock. Osman has his eye on him because he is the biggest, he thinks
that we can chew leather, that he do." And pursuing the brood, my
English servant succeeded in catching a young pullet, which he brought
triumphantly to the woman.
"How much?" I inquired.
"Twelve piastres" (about eighteenpence), replied the woman.
"Twelve piastres," said Osman; "it is a great deal of money—we could
not afford to eat turkey at that rate; say ten, and have done with it."
"The bird is a hen, and will have eggs," observed the farmer.
"She may die and have no eggs, and then you would have lost ten
piastres," said Osman. "Come, be quick," he added, "pick the turkey!"
And giving the woman the money, the old dame retired to a little
distance to prepare the bird for the pot.
When Radford had finished his cooking, and had helped me to some of
the turkey, he put the remainder in my washing-basin, and handed it to
Osman, for himself and the man with the pack-horses.
"Why do you not give them the cooking-pot, and let them eat out
of it?" I inquired. "Perhaps they will not like eating out of my
washing-basin."
"I thought of that, sir; but the pot is that hot that they would burn
their fingers a-shoving them into it. Nasty, dirty fellows they are
too; preferring dirty fingers to nice clean forks! But Osman, sir,
he ain't that nice. He is the greediest feeder I ever see, he would
eat out of a coal-scuttle sooner than not fill himself. See there,
sir, he has got that turkey's leg. I knew he would have it! It was on
the baggage-man's side of the basin, and Osman had eaten already one
drumstick: the other ought to have gone to the chap with the horses.
But Osman ain't got no conscience about eating, whatever he may have
when he is flopping himself down on my coat and pretending to say his
prayers."
After luncheon the two Turks were so long in loading the pack-horse
that I determined to ride forward with Radford, and let the other men
follow with the luggage. We had continued the journey for about an hour
when, after ascending a hill, I turned round to see if there were any
signs of my followers. Nothing was in sight except an Armenian woman,
who was on horseback, she was riding cross-legged, and carried a baby
in a handkerchief which was slung from her neck.
"Had she seen Osman?" I inquired.
"No," was the answer.
Desiring Radford to remain where he was, I galloped back in the
direction of the farm-house. On arriving by the river-side a singular
picture met my gaze. A pack-horse was dripping from head to foot, and
was without his saddle. All the baggage was wet through. My cartridges,
tea, sugar, and coffee were spoiled; Radford's bag, containing his pig
tobacco, lay dripping wet by the side of the river. Osman was swearing
violently at the man in charge of the pack-horses, and from time to
time was administering to him a blow with a stick across the shoulders.
The chastised individual was sobbing violently. On seeing me he threw
himself down on the ground and began to embrace my knees.
"What has happened?" I inquired.
They both commenced speaking together.
"Stop! One at a time," I remarked.
"Yes, you dog!" said Osman to his fellow-countryman. "How dare you
speak? He did not lead the horse, Effendi, he drove the animal
before him, and the horse lay down in the river. Everything is
spoiled! Oh! you refuse of a diseased sheep,"—this to the culprit.
"And the Effendi's cartridges, he will not be able to replace
them; and my brother, what will he say about his tobacco? he will
be angry—he may beat me! I knew your mother, your grandmother, and
great-grandmother—they were all most improper characters—and you, you
hound, you are the worst of the family!" As he said these words, Osman
began to flog the delinquent most unmercifully.
I was obliged to interfere, taking my servant by the collar, I ordered
him to desist, and at once to load the baggage animal.
This accident delayed us considerably on the road. Some time after
sunset, on looking at my watch, I found that we had only placed an
eight hours' march between ourselves and Angora. We were on a large
plain, which was surrounded by hills; our path wound round the slopes
of the adjacent height, presently the village of Asra Yuzgat appeared
in sight. It is built on the side of a hill. We were soon riding on the
tops of the houses, and had to be very careful lest our horses should
suddenly come upon an open chimney. Some of the roofs had fallen in.
The moon shining on the white rafters gave a ghastly appearance to the
scene.
The people in this part of Anatolia have a very economical way of
building their habitations. The man who is old enough to take unto
himself a helpmate, and who is about to leave his father's roof, marks
a piece of ground, generally of an oblong shape and on the side of
a hill. He next digs out the earth to the depth of about seven feet.
Then, hewing down some trees, he cuts six posts, each about ten feet
high, and drives them three feet into the ground, three posts being on
one side of the oblong and three on the other. Cross-beams are fastened
to the tops of these uprights, and branches of trees plastered down
with clay cover all. A few planks, with a hole made in them to serve
as a doorway, enclose the outer side of the building, and a broad
heavy plank closes the entrance, hinges being replaced by strips of
cowhide. A wooden railing divides the room into two parts; one of them
is tenanted by the sheep, oxen, camels, and cows of the proprietor,
the other by himself and family. No partition-wall separates the
cattle from their master; and the smell which arises at night from
the confined air and from the ammonia in the building is excessively
disagreeable to a European. In cold weather a hole in the roof, which
serves as a ventilator, is stopped by a large stone. Fuel, often made
from cow's dung, first dried and then mixed with chopped straw, is
thrown on the fire. The inmates, sometimes consisting of twelve or more
people, lie huddled together on the floor. This last in the poorer
houses is covered by rugs made of camel's hair, and in the wealthier
establishments by thick Persian carpets.
The barking of the dogs, which swarmed around us, speedily awoke the
inhabitants, and a middle-aged Turk, clad in a thick brown mantle,
approaching me, said that he was the Caimacan or governor, and that he
hoped I would stay at his house that night.
It appeared that my friend the Bey at Angora had written to him about
my journey, and had said that I should reach Asra Yuzgat at sunset.
The Caimacan knew nothing of our accident on the road: as we had not
arrived by one hour after nightfall, he had gone to bed.
His house was not a large one. It consisted of two rooms, a kitchen
and a reception-room. The latter apartment was used for all purposes.
The owner remarked that he was going on a shooting expedition the
following morning; he proposed that I should join his party. There
were, according to him, a great many partridges and hares in the
neighbourhood. However, my cartridges had been probably all of them
spoiled in the river, so I was obliged to decline the invitation.
I was rather tired, and wished to go to bed. On expressing a wish to
this effect, a mattress was produced, and put down in one corner, and
a second the other side of the room for the Caimacan. Three or four
servants were present. No one seemed to have any intention to retire.
I took off my clothes, lay down on the mattress, and drew over myself a
marvellous thing in the way of _yorgans_, a silk counterpane of as many
colours as Joseph's coat, and lined with feathers.
"Are you warm?" said the Caimacan.
"Yes."
"Every one is warm with that _yorgan_," he continued. "It is light, and
there are no fleas in it. You will sleep well."
He now prepared to go to bed. The four servants assisted him. First
they drew off his boots, and then his nether garments; the Caimacan
glancing from time to time at me out of the corner of his eye, probably
wishing to see what impression the fact of his having four servants to
put him to bed had produced on my mind. He had been astonished when I
undressed myself, and had remarked,—
"Why, you have two servants, and you take off your own clothes! What is
the good of having servants if you do not make them useful?"
By this time he was in bed. His attendants lay down by his side;
Radford and Osman in another corner. The one tallow dip which lit the
room was carefully extinguished; soon nought could be heard save the
snoring of the slumberers.
I arose at daybreak, and unpacked the wet cartridges, then, taking my
gun, I tried some of them; snap—snap—they would not explode. It was
no use stopping for the shooting party; so desiring Osman to commence
loading the horses, I took leave of my host.