The precipice—Better to die to-morrow than to-day—Livana—The
Caimacan—The Padishah of the United States—The Clerk—A man
with a node on his forehead—A Christian with a hump-back—The
cayek—The owner of the boat—The Georgians—Mohammed's alarm—The
current—Miradet—The Mudir—A deserter.
The road took a very circuitous course as we approached Livana. We were
several hundred feet above the Tschoroch river, and could gaze down
almost perpendicularly into the abyss below. Suddenly the sound of a
shout reached our ears. We glanced in the direction of the noise.
"It is the cayek," said Mohammed eagerly. "The men are taking it to
Livana. They will next propose that we should hire it from there to
Batoum. Holy Prophet!" he continued, "how the waters roar, how near the
boat goes to the rocks! My body groans, Effendi, at the idea of going
to Batoum by water."
"You will very likely soon have to fight the Russians," I replied; "what
difference can it make if you are drowned to-morrow in the Tschoroch,
or are shot a few weeks later?"
"To-morrow is close at hand, Effendi. It would be better to die a few
weeks later; besides that, when the Russians are shooting at me, I shall
be shooting at them. I shall be frightened, but they will be frightened
too. It is very different to travel on the river. I cannot drown the
river, the river can drown me,"—and Mohammed shuddered as the cayek
darting round a neighbouring crag, suddenly disappeared from our view.
We crossed a stone bridge, which spans the Tschoroch, and began to climb
the steep hill on which Livana is built.
I stayed at the house of the Caimacan, a Georgian by birth. He was
popular with the Armenians. Several of the Christian merchants who came
to visit me spoke very highly in his praise. Formerly there had been
many robberies in the neighbourhood, but Alinihat Bey, the Caimacan, had
arrested all the robbers, every man's life and property were now secure.
I now heard, amongst other rumours, one which I had previously heard
in Persia, to the effect that the Padishah of the United States had
informed the Queen of England that if she were to join Turkey against
Russia, that he, the Padishah of the United States, would ally himself
with the Tzar. According to the Caimacan, this had restrained England
up to the present time from allying herself with the Sultan. You will
see the Pacha at Batoum," observed the speaker.
"Yes?"
"Will you do me a favour?"
"Certainly."
"Effendi, I have a Kateb (clerk), a good man—that fellow on the carpet.
Look how beautifully he writes! He is nice-looking, too, and we all
like him. But the Pacha, he has a Kateb. The fellow is hideous, besides
that, he has a node in the middle of his forehead. The governor wishes
to change Katebs with me. He says that he does not like a man with a
node on his forehead; I do not like this either; and to sit all day long
with a man who is so disfigured would make me very ill."
"It would make us all ill," observed the Armenians, eager to please the
Caimacan.
"Yes," continued the latter; "Effendi, you would oblige us very much if
you will tell the Pacha that I like my Kateb, and do not wish to part
with him. A man with a node is a disgusting sight," he added.
"Very disgusting," said the Armenians—the man who spoke loudest being
a Christian with a hump-back.
In the meantime Mohammed had made an arrangement with the owner of a
large cayek to take us the following morning to Batoum, which would be
about a nine hours' journey by water from Livana. We rode down to the
bank of the river. Here, close by the bridge, was a large boat. It was
half full of firewood, which was going to Batoum. Two oarsmen sat in
the stern of the cayek, and two more in the bows. There were no rowers
in the middle of the boat; this part was filled with wood, some other
passengers, my party and self. Our fellow-travellers and the boatmen
were Georgians. A very stout old gentleman who sat behind me was arrayed
in a bright blue jacket and a large white turban; in addition to this he
carried a gigantic scarlet umbrella. A few drops of rain began to fall;
the umbrella was opened. Its happy possessor looked proudly round; he
was an object of admiration and envy to the rest of his countrymen.
The boatmen, who were clad in brown serge jackets and trowsers, had
their breasts covered with cartridge-cases, in the Circassian style.
Each man carried a long silver-mounted dagger in his waist-belt, and
a black _cufia_, a sort of head attire, was worn by them instead of a
turban. The river, which was very high, ran through the arch of the
bridge at a great pace. Mohammed's face became an ashen hue as the
captain of the cayek, loosening the cord which bound his bark to the
shore, pushed off into the boiling torrent. For the first second or
two the oarsmen could not get any command over their boat. It turned
round and round, missing, as it were, by a miracle the many rocks in
the channel.
The rowers all this time were raising wild cries to Allah. Mohammed,
who had crouched down in the bottom of the bark, was grasping Radford's
hand in a paroxysm of terror. In another moment the crew succeeded in
gaining the mastery over their craft. They steered her into the middle
of the river. The current was running like a mill-stream. We flew rather
than floated along the waters.
Numerous rocks interrupt the channel; some of them are forty and fifty
feet above the surface; others can only be detected by the foam and
surf which bubble over their dangerous peaks. The mountains on either
side of us are of igneous stone; they are covered with green bushes.
A white line winds amongst the heights; it marks the track to Batoum,
an eighteen hours' march by land, but only nine by water. We pass the
ruins of an old castle. We dart round a promontory. The scene changes.
Vineyards deck the river's banks. Oxen can be seen ploughing the
slopes above us. Many women, in bright red garments, and with white
head-dresses, follow the plough. They knock to pieces the clods of
earth with iron hoes. Waterfalls pour down the heights. The river grows
wider; it becomes more rapid every moment. The wind is rising. The chief
boatman remarks that we cannot arrive at Batoum that evening.
To reach the town it was necessary to enter the Black Sea; but to effect
this in stormy weather, and in an undecked boat, would be impossible. We
anchored for the night at the village of Miradet, four hours from Livana
by the river, but twelve by land. I obtained accommodation in the house
of the Mudir of the district. There were some cells in this building; in
one of them was a prisoner—a deserter, who had run away from the army.
There was a hearth in his dungeon, and Radford was permitted to cook
there, the deserter taking great interest in the culinary operations.