BLUFFING THE PEASANTS
Next morning we were off at the first streak of dawn, after a very cold
night. We were in a narrow valley, and look where we would we could not
find the track we had seen not long before halting the previous night.
The hills were too steep and wooded to make it possible to get along low
down by the stream, so there was no other course open except to start
climbing again in the hope of meeting the track at a higher level. This
we succeeded in doing after toiling up some distance. Following the
track, we emerged after a couple of miles on a hill overlooking the long
expected Geuk Irmak. It was too late in the morning and the
neighbourhood too populous to make further progress possible, so we
bivouacked close by in the wood and hoped to make good distance that
night along the main road in the valley. Starting an hour before dark,
we were forced to wait for a home-coming couple who were slowly
returning along the track we were intending to take. When they were
safely off the scene, we had to scramble down through the thickest copse
it was ever our misfortune to meet with, and by the time we had reached
the river it was quite dark. As on all such occasions, we took off our
boots and socks to cross and replaced them on the other side, only to
find soon after that there was another branch of the river which we had
not been able to see in the dark, so that the process had to be
repeated. Even then we were not over dry-shod, as there were now several
irrigated fields to be crossed before we could get to the road. Creeping
along the small bund dividing two fields, we endeavoured to keep on dry
ground; but were not very successful. Finally, we reached a big
irrigation nullah, which meant another wade. We were now, at last, on
the main road; but it had taken us two hours' hard going to get there,
which was a great disappointment. Soon after starting again, we met a
couple of men on ponies, driving cattle. At the time we were rather
separated; Tip and I escaped observation, but Sweet and K. were not so
lucky, for the men stopped and asked who they were. Sweet promptly said
"Germans" and gave a few details. The men, however, declared they were
prisoners, but did not seem disposed to make trouble, and moved on again
after a few minutes, much to Sweet's relief.
After another hour's trek, we felt too exhausted to go further, and lay
down, intending to do a little more at dawn. The mosquitoes were a great
pest in this valley and we had a very poor night's sleep. We had now
come down to a much lower elevation: Kastamuni was 2,500 feet above sea,
but this spot could scarcely be 1,000 feet. As soon as it grew light in
the morning we were off again along the road, after filling up our
water-bottles from the river and investigating another flour mill which
proved to be empty. Very soon we came to a picturesque old wooden bridge
spanning the stream and, after crossing this, decided to lie up for the
day on the hill-side above. The valley became wider at this point and
several hamlets and farms were to be seen; it therefore behoved us to
get under cover as quickly as possible, since the peasants are very
early astir. We found a good place and lit a fire. This was, perhaps,
rather rash, but we felt that it was worth risking a good deal to have
something hot to drink. As we had had no luck in getting vegetables the
night before, we had to be content with small rations. After an
uneventful sunny day, we moved down to the road in the evening, and
after filling our bottles with water from the river gathered some maize
and marrows from a field close by. We then set off down the road and
made very fair progress for the next three hours.
Loaded as we were with several extra pounds each of marrow, we got more
tired than would otherwise have been the case. Eventually, the road led
us into a village, and we had to walk straight past some people coming
towards us. They took no notice, however, and we went on. A little
further, there was a light in a flour mill, which was grinding away as
hard as it could go, being driven by a small water turbine. There seemed
to be no track by which we could avoid going right through the village,
and after retracing our steps once or twice we decided there was nothing
else for it. We tramped down the road past several old fellows who were
sitting outside a house and were probably interested in the activities
of the flour mill. Most likely, by grinding secretly at night, it is
possible to escape the Government's taxes on flour, but needless to say
we did not stop to make inquiries. The road seemed to take us nowhere.
After visiting one or two back yards and coming out in another place on
top of a house, we had eventually to retrace our steps past the old men
to the end of the village which we had first entered. How that road made
its way out we never discovered and, in consequence, lost a good deal of
time and distance.
After sleeping for a couple of hours in a graveyard, we set off with the
first streak of dawn to make a circuit round the south side of the
village, and reached a hill which promised safety for the day. It took
us a long time and many halts had to be made. We disposed of our marrows
by eating them raw, and decided that they were too heavy to be worth
carrying any distance in future. Finally, we reached a snug spot in
brushwood high up on the hill and made ourselves as comfortable as
circumstances would allow.
In the afternoon, I decided to go to the top of the hill to try to
locate our exact position in the valley. After a steep climb I got a
splendid view all round and discovered a convenient track for us to
follow as soon as it grew dark. A town was clearly visible a few miles
further on, and this I felt sure must be Duraghan, although the road
leading to it did not correspond with what was shown on our map.
However, we decided that it must be this place, as by our calculations
we reckoned we must have come every bit of the distance. Our disgust may
be imagined when on the following day we found the place was really
Boiabad, a town 30 miles short of Duraghan.
Just after getting back to our bivouac, it came on to pour, but luckily
we managed to get a fire going and a stew made just in time. However,
the result was that we started marching an hour later, soaked very
nearly to the skin, and with no prospect of being able to get dry in the
near future. We came close to the town, as it was getting dark, and
after crossing a stream had some discussion as to which road to take.
Finally, we selected a track which we thought must lead into the main
valley, where we were certain the main road would run on our side of the
river. As a matter of fact, it had crossed to the other side and we did
not meet it till next day. We continued along this track till midnight,
when we lay down for a little sleep; but it was too cold to be possible
in our wet things and in an hour we were up and off again. A few miles
further on, we found we were close to a village through which the track
ran and, joyful sight, there were several corn stacks close by. These
promised a warm shelter until dawn; but it was not to be. The usual
village dog had already heard us and although we remained stock still he
would not cease his frantic barking. One old peasant had already been
roused up and came slowly towards us. Our only course was to go straight
on; and we went right into the village, past several houses, through a
cow pen, over a hedge and so on to the moor beyond. Just as we got clear
some sportsmen let off a shot-gun. No pellets came near us and it was
probably only meant as a warning to robbers!
Luckily, we were not followed and got away over the hill, steering east.
After some distance we rested again, until morning should show us our
whereabouts. We were evidently some way from the river and a good height
up. As it began to get light, we moved off towards the river, hoping to
find a snug hiding-place near the water. No such luck was in store for
us, for just as we reached a slope overlooking the river we saw a small
village at our feet, and the village dogs saw us almost at the same
moment. Wearily we retraced our steps uphill, and when out of range of
the dogs held a council as to our future efforts. It was clear that
while walking by night we were covering very little distance, and that
at this rate the food we carried would be exhausted long before we
reached the sea. We decided, therefore, that our only hope lay in
bluffing the country people that we were Germans and buying food where
we could. Accordingly, we made for the first house we could see, where a
miserable peasant and two women were working. We explained that we were
Germans surveying, and produced our maps and passport in support of this
contention. They did not doubt us; but they had no food to sell and,
indeed, looked as poor and wretched as people well could. However, they
referred us to their master, who was the headman of the locality. We
crossed a few fields and were then met by this gentleman, to whom we
told the same story. He led us into his house and providing us with
seats gave orders for food to be prepared. In the meanwhile, Sweet
carried on a conversation to the best of his ability. It appeared that
our host was one Ahmed Chaoush (sergeant) who had been fighting against
us in Gallipoli but now had a year's sick leave. He took in our story,
but asked some awkward questions, such as why we carried no revolvers?
Sweet had to pretend not to understand and, luckily, Ahmed did not
become suspicious. We gathered from him that the town we had passed in
the night was Boiabad and that Duraghan was several hours' distance in
front of us. This was a cruel blow, and only showed us how much slower
we had been than we thought. In the meantime, the chaoush had produced
some small pears which were soon disposed of. Finally, after much
anxious speculation as to whether or no our host intended to give us a
meal, real signs of preparation appeared for that eagerly expected
event.
A few minutes later a small circular table was produced and several
dishes were brought in. These consisted of cucumber sliced up in milk,
small wads of boiled flour in milk, yoghourt or curdled milk and
chapatties--a feast such as we had hardly dared to hope for. Turkish
fashion, we sat round, each armed with a wooden spoon and dipped in the
same dish, emptying one after another. It is etiquette on such occasions
to wait until the next man has taken a spoonful so that all may get the
same number in the end, but I fear we were not always so scrupulous and
ate as fast as our usual habits would allow. When the table and dishes
had been cleared away, Ahmed was given a little English tobacco and told
it was the best German variety. Soon after we bid him a grateful
farewell, and, although he was unwilling to take anything, succeeded in
getting him to accept some money. We felt that to accept his
hospitality and humbug him without any payment would scarcely be playing
the game. He directed us towards our road, for which we had to descend
again to the main valley and cross the river. On the further side we
were delayed by a large irrigation nullah. When across this we found a
good many blackberries and some onions in a field. The latter we seized
upon with avidity, as being the first we had met with. There was some
doubt as to which of two roads we should take, but it was decided to
pursue one which some women had pointed out as the right road to
Duraghan. This led straight away from the river and began to climb
steeply. After a couple of hours, we had ascended some distance and
decided to bivouac till the afternoon. The sun was pretty hot, but we
were now high up and on top of a small hill from which the surrounding
ranges could be clearly seen. It was evident that we had not come in the
direction we had intended, but, on the other hand, we were now heading
direct for the sea. After some discussion and poring over the map, we
decided that our only real chance of reaching the sea lay in making a
bee-line across country as nearly as possible in a north-easterly
direction, buying food where we could and walking by day. If we had
gone on we should not only have had to skirt Duraghan by night, or make
a big detour by day, but the distance down to the sea would have been
very much greater. In addition, it would have been much hotter for
walking, with the extra hardship of mosquitoes at night.