CONTINUED DELAYS
On the afternoon of September 2nd, the third day in this wood, Bihgar
Bey and Musa arrived, and announced that the friends from Boiabad had
also come and that we should move on towards the sea. One of the
new-comers had arrived with them at our lair, this being a stout fellow
whom we always referred to as the Fat Boy: he was in fact the only pure
Turk amongst them, the others all being of Circassian extraction. As it
grew dark we moved off picking up some others of the akhardash shortly
afterwards, and took a line which would bring us towards the coast while
at the same time approaching Sinope. After some hours, it became evident
that they were not very sure of the way, with the result that in the
early hours of the morning they decided to stop where they were and
reach the appointed place the following evening. At dawn a countryman
stumbled upon a sentry guarding a path near which we lay. He was
thoroughly scared and was allowed to go, after having evidently sworn
never to tell of anything he had seen.
As morning dawned, rain came on and we moved under some bigger trees,
where Keor very soon had a shelter rigged up, cutting down ash saplings
with a dagger and using our sail as a cover. It was not a very efficient
protection, but better than nothing and luckily on this occasion the
rain did not last long. Next evening, under the guidance of a new
comrade, we were conducted a little way further, finally halting in a
maize-field until such time as some unwelcome guests had left our new
host. This was an old Greek as poor as he was dirty, but he had
evidently agreed to hide us until the boat was ready and we were much
indebted to him. Finally, the Turkish visitors left the old man and he
came to meet us. The first thing he did was to go off with one of the
akhardash and procure a sheep for us. We had not tasted any meat for
about ten days, and looked with great interest at the fine animal now
procured. The old man then brought us bedding, and we are not likely
ever to forget it. We remained in his care for nearly a week, and every
day seemed to increase the interest which these mattresses took in us.
At daylight, the old man cleared a space for us in a neighbouring
thicket, and we moved in there. All the others except Bihgar departed,
saying they were going to prepare food for the voyage. Left alone with
Bihgar the time hung somewhat heavily. He looked after us like a father
and by our calling him this he was highly delighted. He played picquet
with Tip, and did his best to learn a little English. The old Greek sent
a messenger into Sinope for us, and we thus got hold of a few small note
books and some playing cards, which helped to pass the time.
[Illustration: BIHGAR BEY]
After a few days in our first clearing, we moved to another, a short
distance off, this being considered rather safer. There were a good many
houses round about and people passed by a path running within 50 yards
of where we lay, so that we had to keep very quiet. After three or four
days here we began to get a little impatient, Bihgar Bey being somewhat
indefinite; but at last one night, after going off at dark to meet some
of the others, he came back and woke us up at midnight and told us to
hurry up, as we were off. We hoped we might get right down to the coast
and find the boat ready, but this was not to be. After a second meeting
under the tree in the maize-field and a farewell to the old Greek, we
set off down a lane and past some houses where the inevitable dog was
soon aroused. However, no one came out and we got out to a field near
the main road, where, after a wait of an hour, we were met by Kiarmil,
whom we had not seen since the first day. At this point, the others had
also met us and had with them a pony laden with bread and a little
cheese, which were to be our rations on the voyage. The party now
consisted of twelve of the akhardash and a boy with the pony, the latter
not intending to leave the country with us.
We learnt that they had had a long fight with the gendarmes the day
before, one being killed on each side. Apparently, the gendarmes had
rounded them up in a village where they were preparing the food which
they had now brought. There were, they said, 80 gendarmes, whereas they
had only eight! Anyhow, our guide of a few nights before, a swarthy,
powerful looking man, had been killed, but in the end they had succeeded
in getting away from the gendarmes or driving them off. The story,
naturally, lost nothing in the telling and we never quite knew what to
believe. At first, from their accounts, it sounded as if they had
deliberately invited a scrap, and it was some time before we found out
that they had been almost surrounded. They also brought the news that
hundreds of gendarmes were being sent to Sinope from Kastamuni, but as
there were never many at Kastamuni we were somewhat sceptical about this
also. Crossing the main road, we found we were close to the sea, and a
little further on entered a copse where we spent the rest of the night.
At dawn we went still further in, and sentries were posted. Meanwhile,
the pony boy had gone off on his steed to Sinope to interview the
boatman, and we waited till the afternoon, hoping that we might hear the
boat was coming to pick us up that night. Our hopes were dashed again
when the boy returned with the news that the boat and its proprietor
were not in Sinope, but had gone round the coast to the next port to the
west.
The akhardash decided it was too risky to stay where we were and,
therefore, we moved again at nightfall. After following the main road a
little way on towards Sinope we left it, climbing slowly and going
farther away from the sea. After some hours they found that they had
missed the way again, although we were close to our destination, which
was the inevitable akhardash's house. Making across some fields and
hedges, we gained a lane, but soon had to leave this, as carts were
heard coming along. Luckily, Turkish carts make their presence known
a long way off by their perpetual creaking, so that we were all
safely under cover by the time they passed. A certain amount of
misunderstanding now arose, Bihgar not seeing eye to eye with another of
the akhardash who knew best our whereabouts, with the result that we
nearly split up into two or more groups in the darkness.
However, we eventually all got together again, and reached the house of
our new host or rather the field surrounding it. He came to meet us and
escorted us to a wood close by. Here we slept till dawn and then moved
farther into the trees. This old man was evidently a more influential
"comrade" than most of those we had met so far. His house was a good
deal larger than the average and he was treated with great respect.
Another more humble supporter also appeared, and between the two we were
provided with food. Late in the day, the old man departed for Sinope,
and our hopes again ran high that he would be successful in arranging
for the boat. Disappointment was once more in store for us on his return
about six o'clock. The leading three or four conferred apart with him,
and it was not until afterwards that we were told that the Turks were so
bent on preventing us leaving the country that they had had all boats
pulled up, masts and sails taken out and guarded, and that no boat was
allowed to put to sea from Sinope to eastwards of Kusafet, the place
where we had been recaptured. The akhardash said that, this being the
case, we must try elsewhere, and they proposed to march off towards
Iyenjak, a little town about 30 miles westwards, where the restrictions
imposed at Sinope would probably not be in force and where they hoped to
get another boat. They said if this failed they would then go east
towards Samsun, a distance of fully 100 miles across rough mountainous
country.
We were beginning to wonder if they ever would get afloat. On August
27th, when they had rescued us, they declared everything would be ready
in three or four days. It was now September and our early sailing seemed
more unlikely than ever. In addition to this our boots were nearly worn
out, and physically we were not in particularly good condition. It
looked as if they would have a much better chance of getting off without
us, so we decided to offer to go off on our own and leave them free. We
explained that it was a hanging matter for them if caught, whereas it
only meant a few months in prison for us. They realized this only too
clearly, but would not hear of our leaving them for an instant, and
declared they would get a boat, however much it might cost.
Kiarmil, upon whose person all the wealth of the party had been
concealed in various places when it was thought we were about to embark,
now began to disgorge his treasure and divide it up again. Musa appeared
to be by far the richest of the party and seemed to be quite a country
gentleman. He told us he would lose his house, cattle and land worth
thousands of pounds. These would all be confiscated by the Turkish
authorities, but he confidently hoped with the next change of Government
to return to the country and get it all back again with a little more
besides. Some of the others were in a similar situation in a lesser
degree. They had succeeded in changing most of their money into Russian
notes which had somehow found their way into Sinope and Jerse, and these
transactions had delayed their preparations a good deal.
After a supper which included a little meat and was therefore noteworthy
in itself, we set off again on the march, but found we had left behind
one of our party who had had fever. At the start, we made good progress
along a road, but then turned off to follow a river down the valley. To
find the track was not always easy. Many fences had to be partially
demolished to allow the pony to get through, and no effort was ever made
to repair the damage or conceal our tracks. After crossing a good deal
of cultivated land, we reached the river bed and began the type of march
we knew so well, crossing continually from one side to the other,
stumbling along over boulders and rocks. About three o'clock in the
morning, we reached a thicket in a lonely part of the valley where the
sides had narrowed considerably. They decided to halt here till the next
night, much to our relief. Cross-country marching by night is never a
very easy mode of progression, but when an attempt is made to use a
stony river bed as a road it becomes a prolonged torture.
No incident marked the following day, and just before dark we were off
once more. As dawn was breaking we reached the neighbourhood of yet
another akhardash's house and went into hiding in thick brushwood which
was soaking with dew. Just as we had got settled down, Bihgar for some
reason decided that we three would be safer elsewhere, and much to our
disgust hustled us off to an equally wet spot in a thicket on the
opposite side of the road. He was always prone to worry and fuss a great
deal more than the others, and later on in the day, in a rash moment, I
expostulated with him, going through a little pantomime to show how he
had acted in the morning. The effect was startling and a great deal more
than I had bargained for. He began by fervently kissing my hand,
declaring he was our servant and that everything he did was for our
benefit. I hastened to stop the flood of protest and affection which I
had unwittingly let loose, but it was some time before he was calm
again.
That evening we moved on, having been fed during the day by the local
akhardash. We were now under the command of the fellow we termed the Fat
Boy, Bihgar having gone off with some of the others to interview another
friend regarding a boat. This man never worried at all, and would shout
to men on guard over the crops as if he were a countryman returning home
late. The fires all over the countryside at night in this district were
used for scaring wild pig from the maize and other crops. In nearly
every field would be a small perch for a man, who would keep a blaze
going beside him and make various noises to scare off the intruders.
Most of them had old guns of some sort and frequently a shot would be
heard. The subject of pig formed a perpetual joke; the akhardash, as
Mussulmans, declaring it was not good to eat, whereas we always offered
to show them how good it was if they would bring us one. Another source
of never-ending merriment was the prophecy that Tip would be taken
prisoner when flying in France and again be sent to Kastamuni.
Towards midnight we reached a big wood and, under the guidance of a new
supporter, found a sheltered spot beneath lofty trees. The character of
the country had altered a good deal since we had reached the coast. Here
the rainfall was evidently a great deal heavier than it was at Kastamuni
and the climate milder, with the result that all sorts of trees abounded
and the vegetation was much thicker. This was the first spot considered
safe enough by our friends for a fire and they soon had a fine blaze
going. We lay down in the warmth and were quickly asleep. Our comfort
was short-lived, however, as it began to rain heavily. A small oil silk
sheet which had belonged to Sweet kept me dry for a time, but it soon
became necessary to move, as the fire had nearly gone out and another
had been started further away. Tip evinced a wonderful power of being
able to sleep when lying in a puddle and soaked through. The akhardash
were experts at fire-lighting, under all circumstances, and skilfully
arranged the logs to protect the inside of the blaze from the rain.
In the afternoon we moved on under the guidance of two sturdy lads, one
of whom with the aid of an axe cut a way for us through the brushwood
and made a track up the steep hill, along which the pony struggled
heroically. On reaching higher ground we found a path and followed this
a little further to a water trough, near which we camped, another fire
being lighted at once. Our guide of the night before turned out to be a
Turkish soldier on leave, but he showed little surprise on finding out
who we were. The other lads had also been in the Army and, as far as we
could make out, had been sent to their homes on account of the shortage
of rations in Constantinople. They bore us no ill will and evidently
thought that the Gallipoli campaign showed them to be the better
soldiers of the two. They knew nothing about our having taken Bagdad and
were quite ignorant of all other war news. The following day was fine
at intervals, generally just long enough to allow of our drying our
clothes before it began again. Our diet had been limited to coarse
Turkish bread, of a most indigestible and half-baked variety, with
potatoes and meat which we cooked by toasting small pieces on long
sticks; but now the bread ran out and for two days we lived almost
entirely on potatoes. The erstwhile soldiers also brought us a number of
small pears. For washing we had the trough, but while the rain continued
and for some time after each shower a small stream flowed down beside
our camp.
The next event of interest was the arrival of a visitor who brought with
him a sheep. We were told that this man had been employed in the
_gendarmerie_, but was now also leaving for Russia and intended to sail
in ten days' time. He suddenly wanted our party to postpone their
departure, so that he might join us, but this was not agreed to. To show
his good faith, he had brought the sheep as a present and no time was
lost in turning it into mutton. A long pole was cut and supported
horizontally on two Y pieces driven into the ground beside the fire. The
sheep's carcase was scientifically balanced and tied to the pole and the
roasting process then began, the pole being slowly turned in the
supports. We made use of our canteens and anything else we could get
hold of to catch the dripping: butter had been scarce and any substitute
was greatly in demand. Our experience in this connection was that coarse
indigestible bread became much less harmful when any butter could be had
to eat with it.