RESCUED
We had several visits from the Arab officers, and they very kindly gave
us a share of their food, which consisted chiefly of a vegetable stew.
The following morning we were given a bread ration for five days and
told to get ready at once. Tip was not fit to move, but they would not
listen to us and dragged him out. We found a small pony had been
brought, so Tip mounted this and we set off with a guard of a sergeant
and eight privates; our former friend, the chaoush from Kusafet, was not
coming with us after all and in his place we had a truculent
quick-tempered fellow who looked as if he would be anything but an
agreeable companion on the march. The men were evidently in the best of
spirits, a visit to Kastamuni being a great event for them. In addition,
they carried a good deal of tobacco, which they doubtless expected to
sell again at a large profit on arrival. A great deal of tobacco is
grown in the coast districts, more particularly near Samsun. We set off
at a very easy pace and after passing the German wireless station soon
had a halt. The guard had two donkeys which carried their kit, but the
chaoush would not hear of us putting our packs on them as well. After
another halt in a village, we reached a caravanserai early in the
afternoon, where the guard prepared their food, the man who owned the
donkeys acting as cook to the chaoush. This fellow had not even the
disreputable uniform which the average Turkish soldier possesses, but
was clothed in thin black stuff. His efforts produced boiled rice over
which a little melted butter was poured. This was taken to a raised
corner where he and the chaoush proceeded to shovel it into their mouths
from the same bowl, etiquette prescribing that the two parties should
take spoonfuls strictly in turn. An hour later we were off again, and
began to ascend the lower slopes of the mountains we had crossed a few
days previously. Now, however, we were on the so-called main road. It
was one of the worst roads it had been our lot ever to have seen, and we
were truly thankful we were not travelling in carts. Long stretches were
strewn with blocks of stone, which had been, apparently, left there
promiscuously by some contractor who had not finished his job, like so
many others in this country. An hour or two later, after ascending some
little distance, we stopped for the chaoush to get his pony shod. This
animal he had commandeered at a village we had passed through, and now
fancied himself to no small extent as a mounted man. After a long wait
the shoeing was at last accomplished and we set off once more. To our
delight the chaoush had also procured a second pony, and on this we were
allowed to load our packs. About eight o'clock we reached a small
village, where we were to spend the night; an empty log hut was found
and a fire made in the large open hearth. We were given one side of the
chief room while most of the guard slept on the rest of the floor. With
some eggs we had bought we made a very good supper and, thanks to the
fire, were as comfortable as the circumstances would allow. We were now
high up and it would have been very cold to bivouac in the open, as we
must have been surrounded by clouds during the night. Before going off
to sleep we considered the chances of escape. There would be little
chance after another day or two when we had got further from the sea and
were halting in larger villages, so that the present night seemed the
only practical time, should opportunity offer. However, we soon came to
the conclusion that it was quite impossible, as not only was there a
sentry in the narrow passage outside the door but one or two of the
askars in our room were told to keep awake in turns. The only exit was
the door, to reach which we should have to walk over several of our
guard.
First thing in the morning, August 27th, we were off again up the road.
It was a glorious day and nothing happened beyond the usual halts every
hour or so. We discussed our escapade once more, again deciding we had
had a good run for our money, but that we had not been cautious enough
when we did reach the coast. We went over afresh the various routes
possible and alterations in plans which we would have adopted with the
experience now gained. It was about nine o'clock and we had been on the
march fully two hours when suddenly with a cry of "Askar" shots rang out
from the nearside of the road. For a moment we were too startled to know
what to make of it. Then K. and I made a dive down the "khud" side, as
the open road seemed anything but the best place to stay in. The first
shot had bowled over the man in black who was riding a donkey in front.
We had been told so much at Kastamuni about the bandits infesting the
hills that we quite thought we might have fallen amongst a party of them
and that to be taken and held to ransom would be a worse fate than
returning for a few months to the civil prison at Kastamuni or Angora.
On going a little way down the hill I saw a man whom I at first thought
to be the chaoush, but as he beckoned to me saying "Venez, venez," I saw
that this was one of the new arrivals. He wanted me to go off down the
hill with him, but after descending a little way I explained there were
other officers on the road and I must go back to them. In the meantime,
he was very voluble and excited, but I could not gather who they were or
what had brought them. On arriving back on the road I found K. and Tip;
the fighting was now over, and three of the brigands were collecting the
askars' rifles and ammunition. The guard had put up no show at all and
the nine of them were all disarmed and standing like sheep within two
minutes, thanks almost entirely to the efforts of the three now
collecting their arms, since my friend had been too far down the bank to
have done much firing himself. The question now was whether we were to
go with these fellows. K. was all for going off at once, but Tip and I
hesitated as to the position we should be in, if caught again by the
Turks before getting away. Our new friends would, of course, have been
shot as outlaws, and we should very likely have shared the same fate. We
took them aside and at length made out that they were adherents of the
old Turk party and had no use whatever for Enver and his Government.
They said they had come specially to rescue us, and had a boat ready to
put off for either Trebizond of Sevastopol in three or four days' time.
After realizing this, a process which took some time, as our knowledge
of the language was very sketchy, we decided to throw in our fortunes
with our new friends, as it seemed a heaven-sent chance of getting out
of the country and almost too good to be true. We had seen nothing of
Sweet since the firing started and now began to shout for him and search
on each side of the road. Our new friends set the old guard on to look
for him, but not a sign of him could we see and no response came to our
calls. After searching and shouting for an hour, we finally had to give
it up, and leaving the guard in the road set off with our new
acquaintances, whom we will now style the "akhardash"--or comrades--as
that was the name they always used for themselves and their supporters.
As far as we could see, Sweet must have dashed away when the first shots
rang out, thinking no doubt that this was a splendid opportunity of
getting free again. It was very hard luck for him, especially as he had
all along been one of the keenest and most energetic of the party. The
old guard watched us go without emotion; they were apparently used to
surprises of this sort. The chaoush remarked that we should now go to
our homes, and we often wondered what happened to him when he got back
to the barracks and reported.
[Illustration: MAP (REDUCED) SHOWING ROUTE OF ESCAPE]
He would be sure to say his party had been greatly outnumbered and were
only disarmed after a prolonged resistance, but, nevertheless, he was
probably reduced to a private. Besides the man in black who had been
killed, two of the others had been wounded. Considering the rate at
which the akhardash started firing, at a range of only twenty yards or
so, the wonder is they did not hit many more; probably after inflicting
a few casualties to start with they afterwards fired high on purpose.
The guard, beyond firing one or two shots, seemed to have made no
resistance at all. They were completely surprised and totally unready
for such an occurrence. Tip had an unenviable experience. He was riding
his pony when the shooting began and had our rucksacks festooned round
his saddle and over his legs so that he could not dismount in a hurry
and found himself in a helpless position in a small storm of bullets.
Finally, he was dragged to the ground by the tallest of the akhardash,
who proceeded to kiss him with much fervour! This man, whose name was
Musa, became our great friend. He was a tall lithe fellow and was always
ready to do everything he possibly could for our comfort during the
following weeks. The leader, whom we always rather suspected of having
played the part of the Duke of Plaza Toro in the actual scrap, was one
Bihgar Bey, a most evil-looking gentleman. In fact none of the four at
the time we first saw them presented an appearance likely to inspire any
confidence, but resembled more the types one sees portrayed as those of
the greatest criminals. Bihgar Bey, we learnt later, was one of a dozen
implicated in the murder of Mahomed Shevket Pasha[3] some years
previously, but as he alone when caught was not in possession of arms
his sentence was only one of transportation, while all the others were
put to death. The other two were Keor, an old Armenian who looked as if
he had led a very hard life, and Kiarmil, a little man who had been a
sergeant-major in the Turkish forces during the late Balkan war. Their
looks, however, entirely belied them, as will be seen from our
subsequent experiences, when on all occasions they went out of their way
to lessen the hardships of our life in the woods. During the following
days we found that they had been able to pay a certain sum yearly to
avoid military service up to a few months previously, when all such
privileges had been cancelled. They had then been forced either to serve
or become outlaws, and had chosen the latter alternative. After living
in the woods supported by more law-abiding friends, of whom they seemed
to have a great number dotted about the country, they had decided to
leave for Russia, and made arrangements with a man in Sinope to embark
in his boat when all their party had been gathered and all arrangements
completed. In the meantime, a gendarme at Sinope, who was also of their
political views, had given them news of our recapture and march back to
Kastamuni. They determined thereupon to effect our rescue, and the
evening before had made a forced march of over twenty miles. At first,
we could not understand why they had taken on such an enterprise, seeing
that it could only hinder their own plans for getting away, and would
probably make it much more difficult for them to leave at all, as the
Turkish authorities would be sure to take a good deal of trouble to
prevent our getting out of the country; but they seemed to have a
profound contempt for any number of gendarmes and no doubt considered we
should form a good introduction for them to Russia. Whatever their
reasons, it was a very plucky act for four of them to take on a guard of
nine, although at the time when the man in black was bowled over it
seemed a horribly cold-blooded business.
[3] Grand Vizier, 1913.