The principal mosque—An ostrich egg—Curious custom—The
dancing dervishes—A regiment of cavalry leaves Sivas—The
arms of the men—Appearance of the horses—A short route to
Erzeroum—Dudusa—The Kizil Ermak—Scenery—Glass replaced
by alabaster—A raid on an Armenian village—The robbers
caught—Women said to have been outraged—Kotnu—An accident—The
Zaptiehs out of temper—Mohammed's appetite—A comparison
between Mohammed and Osman.
On leaving the monastery, we rode to the principal mosque of the
town. I was struck by seeing a large ostrich egg suspended from the
ceiling by a silver chain. On my asking the Turk who showed me over the
building, why this egg was hung there, he replied,—
"Effendi, the ostrich always looks at the eggs which she lays; if one
of them is bad, she breaks it. This egg is suspended here as a warning
to men that, if they are bad, God will break them in the same way as
the ostrich does her eggs."
Mohammed met me as I was returning to my house. He was very much
excited.
"What is the matter?" I inquired.
"Effendi, a regiment is about to march to Erzeroum. It will be a
grand sight. The Pacha will accompany it out of the town. The dancing
dervishes will go before the band. Other dervishes will be there with
sharp knives; they will cut themselves, but the blood will not flow! It
will be a miracle! And all this we can see from the Effendi's window!"
"Happy are you, O Mohammed, to be able to see such wonderful sights
without paying for them," I remarked; then, giving him my horse, I went
upstairs to my room.
An immense crowd had gathered in the square; the part facing the
barracks was thronged by hundreds of idlers who were eagerly pressing
against the gates. Presently they were thrown wide open. The governor,
in his dray-like carriage, issued from the portals. He was accompanied
by the colonel of the regiment, who was mounted on a superb grey, and
rode by the side of the Pacha's vehicle.
Next came six dancing dervishes clad in sackcloth, and with long cowls
over their green turbans. They in their turn were followed by about
twenty men—some carrying what appeared to be bill-hooks—others, maces
with leaden balls attached to them by chains, and bright steel skewers.
"This is delightful!" said Mohammed, who, by way of seeing better, had
climbed on to the top of the divan, torn away the piece of paper which
supplied the place of a pane of glass, and, having thrust his head and
shoulders through the aperture, was staring with his mouth wide open at
the procession.
"Please God they will soon begin to cut themselves!"
However, he was doomed to disappointment; the dervishes had already
cut themselves in the barrack-yard, and were not inclined to repeat the
performance.
On they went in serried ranks, followed by the troopers, all of whom
were excellently mounted on horses averaging about fifteen hands, and
which looked in capital condition. The men were armed with American
revolvers and repeating-rifles, whilst a short curved scimitar hung by
each man's side.
"How long will it be before they reach Erzeroum?" I inquired of
Mohammed.
"About a month," was the answer; "but they are going by a short route
by Kara Hissar, and we by Divriki, Arabkir, and Egin, which will be
a long way round. We shall arrive first at our destination, as the
regiment will not march more than sixteen miles a day."
The Pacha ordered his coachman to draw up the carriage on one side of
the road; the dervishes raised a mournful yell. The regiment, passing
onward, was lost to view behind an avenue of poplars.
The following morning I started at daybreak in the direction of Dudusa,
a village about five hours from Sivas. For some distance we marched
alongside the left bank of the Kizil Ermak. The track was very heavy.
The baggage-horses had great difficulty in making a way through the
mud. Presently we came upon some firm soil. The scenery changed from
a flat expanse of plough-land to a winding chain of rugged heights.
Chain succeeded chain. Snowy crests were piled up in rear of each other
like the billows of the deep. Our path led round these mountain peaks.
From time to time we caught a glimpse of the Kizil Ermak, which, white
as silver, flowed through the vale at our feet. Nature's walls on all
sides of us were of every colour; at every moment, red, blue, and grey
sandstone met our gaze.
We round a neighbouring crag; a vast rock of the purest marble lies
before our party. Huge blocks strew the borders of the path; they
sparkle beneath the sky, and rival in their Parian whiteness the snowy
heights overhead. On the summit of an adjacent hill is the monastery
of Dudusa, and at its foot the village of the same name, made up
of straggling houses, built at long intervals apart—some of mud and
marble; others—where the inhabitants had been too idle to transport the
blocks from the adjacent rock—of dried clay; and a few of the abodes
of the better-to-do farmers actually boasting glass windows! In other
houses the panes were replaced by paper or pieces of some transparent
alabaster, which is found in large quantities in the neighbourhood.
Dudusa is an Armenian village. I now learnt that Issek Pacha was very
popular amongst the villagers. I must say that I was a little surprised
at this, after the way the Armenians in Sivas had abused their
governor. Two months previous, some Turks, from a neighbouring hamlet,
had made a raid on the flocks belonging to the inhabitants of Dudusa,
and had carried off fifty sheep. Information of the robbery was given
to the Pacha, he at once sent out a party of soldiers. The robbers had
been arrested. They were expiating their offence in prison.
I had heard at Sivas that a redif battalion which had lately marched
to Erzeroum had outraged some women near Dudusa. I took the opportunity
to inquire if the story were true. Like many other statements which had
been made to me by the so-called Christians in Anatolia, it turned out
to be a fiction. The redif soldiers had passed that way. The only thing
which could be said against them was that they had not paid for the
bread with which they had been supplied, as the military authorities
had not given them any money. There were no officers with the troops,
but the men had given the name of their regiment. On application to
head-quarters, the amount due would be transmitted to the villagers.
I did not stay long at Dudusa, but, after lunching at the priest's
house, continued the march towards Kotnu, another village about
twenty-seven miles, or about nine hours from the capital of the
province.
It was dusk long ere we reached our halting-place. In passing over a
narrow wooden bridge, one of my horses put his foot down a hole between
the planks, and nearly broke his leg. Misfortunes never come singly. A
moment later, the poor brute strayed a few yards from the track. He was
at once bogged in the treacherous soil. Everything had to be unstrapped
from the saddle, a rope was attached to his surcingle, and then, by
means of the other horses, he was dragged from the slimy trammels. It
was hard work loading him again.
The thermometer had fallen to considerably below zero. The wind howled
and blew the snowy flakes in our faces. The horses would not stand
still. Our matches were wet through. We could not light them. Under
such circumstances we had to arrange the baggage.
The Zaptiehs who had been sent to act as guides would not help; they
sat still, cursing their destiny which had made them accompany a mad
giaour like myself, who had chosen to travel from Scutari to Kars all
the way by land, instead of going the greater part of the distance by
sea, like a sensible true believer. I have but little doubt that the
same train of thought was passing through Mohammed's and Radford's
mind. However, the latter never flinched, and Mohammed had evidently
won his friendship, for, on my asking my English servant how he liked
his new companion, he replied, "Sir, he is worth three of Osman at any
time, save praying-times, and then there is not a pin to choose between
them. They must be awful sinners, these Mohammedans, if they require
five prayers a day to settle the account with their consciences.
Mohammed ain't that artful as Osman was. He don't choose the moment
when there is work to be done, to set to work at his victuals, or to
flop down on his knees to say his prayers. Mohammed has his pray all to
himself afterwards, and then it don't so much signify!"
"What! Has not Mohammed so good an appetite as Osman?"
"No, sir, Mohammed has more of a Christian's appetite; he is satisfied
with what I put before him, he don't go prigging out of the tin like
that there other Turk. Why, I watched Osman one day eating a chicken
which I had kept back for your supper! A few days before, I had
missed one out of the pot, and had taxed him with it; he then said,
'_keupek_,' dog, as if a dog would go and lift up the lid of the tin! I
used to call Osman 'keupek' afterwards, and he did not seem to like it.
The other Turks, when they want to give it a fellow, tell him that he
is the grandson of a dog; but I called Osman the original animal—dirty
hound that he was too—quite spoiled my coat, that he did!"
And my servant, lighting a short wooden pipe, the wonder of the Turks,
smoked furiously—the rapidity of his puffs probably denoting an extreme
dislike to his late fellow-servant.