THE PEACEFUL SHEPHERDS.
There was not a drop of water in any of our bottles when, at 6.30 that
evening, we emerged from our hiding-place and made our way down towards
the open valley which had been running south of us and nearly parallel
to our course of the preceding night; for this direction seemed to
offer the best prospect of water. On the far side of the valley rose
the wood-covered slopes of the Tchitchek Dagh, or Flower Mountain. Far
away to the west we could see the purple ridges of the Denek Dagh,
slightly to the north of which we hoped to cross the Kizil Irmak. Our
hopes rose high as we saw beneath us a narrow streak of green which
betokened the existence of the longed-for water; but if, in England,
where there's a dog there's a man, in Turkey where there's a stream
there are sheep. We soon found that all the flocks of the countryside
were settling down for the night on the banks of our promised water
supply, while farther to the north-west our way was barred by the
inevitable village.
There was nothing for it but to lie where we were till twilight had
faded, and then to cut south-west with the idea of hitting the nullah
at a point above the flocks. On doing so we were much dismayed to find
that the nullah was dry. By this time we were all fairly "cooked";
Ellis, in addition, was suffering from a strained heart--for such it
now turns out to have been. For half an hour we carried his kit and
helped him along between us, but he still could not keep up.
At 9.30 we decided to leave him behind, in a dry nullah we were
following at the time, with Grunt, who volunteered to stay with him
while the rest went on to find water--if they could. The six plodded
on with frequent halts, and resorted for the first time to the bottle
of "Kola" tablets, which provided a much-needed stimulant. The country
was still an arid waste with here and there a dry nullah, each one like
the rest; and as time went on without a sign of water, those of us with
Cochrane began to wonder how we should ever find the derelict pair
again. A solitary light twinkled away to our left, another far ahead.
Were these from villages, or were they shepherds' fires? On trudged the
six on their western course towards a jagged ridge which now met their
view. An hour and a half after leaving the pair they crossed a narrow
embankment. This they recognised as that of a light railway, then
under construction, between Angora and Sivas, for we had seen another
bit of this on our way from Angora to Yozgad.[10] At length they came
to water--a stagnant lake it proved and brackish, but at least it was
water. Curiously enough, they discovered they were not as thirsty as
they had imagined, but a paddle was most refreshing.
After forty minutes' halt, Cochrane, Johnny, and the Old Man
loaded themselves up with the chargals and all except three of the
water-bottles, and leaving their packs behind set forth on their
urgent quest for Grunt and Ellis. The remaining three divided up the
watches between them until dawn. Nobby and Looney had a midnight bathe,
finding one place even deep enough to swim in; but it was chilly work
drying on a couple of silk handkerchiefs sewn together which served
as towel, scarf, or sunshade indiscriminately. Sleep was impossible,
for the bank swarmed with mosquitoes and sand-flies, so after a while
Nobby went a-fishing with a sultana for bait, but without result. At
2 A.M. the monotony was broken by the arrival of a dog. It
stood a few yards away and proceeded to bark for about ten minutes.
That light we had seen ahead, and which was now close by, was probably
a village fire; so the three just lay low. At length, to their relief,
the owner of the beast came and called it off, not worrying to find out
at what it was barking.
In the meantime Cochrane and the two others had to get back to the
nullah where Grunt and Ellis had been left. They recrossed the
railway embankment and eventually struck a nullah. As they proceeded
this petered out, and the three started wandering over the country,
whistling now and again, but receiving no answer. At 2.45 A.M.
they again struck the embankment and walked along it for an hour, but
could not pick up their bearings. Accordingly they halted and waited
for the light. After being heated by the strenuous marching, they soon
began to shiver violently with the cold and dosed themselves with
quinine.
As prearranged in the event of the others not having returned, Nobby,
Perce, and Looney at dawn moved off from the pool into hiding in the
hills to the west. The packs of the search-party were left concealed
under a ledge of the bank and covered with reeds and grass. From the
top of the ridge they overlooked the desolate country traversed the
night before. Close below them stood an Arab encampment with its black
camel-hair tents, from which both the light and dog had doubtless
proceeded. A few ponies grazed near the water, now seen to be one of
a series of pools lying stagnant in an otherwise dry river bed. A man
appeared leading a string of camels. The three were thinking that
little prospect remained of joining up again that day, when suddenly
they saw figures hurrying across the plain, and recognised with relief
that they were Cochrane, the Old Man, and Johnny.
At the first sign of dawn they had marched eastwards for a quarter of
an hour, and then had to give it up as a bad job, having failed to pick
up their bearings. Accordingly, they turned round and walked westwards
along the embankment as fast as they could. An hour and twenty minutes
later they reached the point at which they had crossed on the previous
night, and made for the water where the packs had been left. Here
they could see Nobby's party flashing a mirror: for it was now broad
daylight. On their westward march they had passed a big railway working
camp, and people were moving about.
It was no use for all three to risk being seen, so Johnny took a
long drink, put on his pack (in case it should prove impossible to
join up as a complete party again), loaded himself up with three
additional water-bottles and the big chargal, and started off once
more to find Grunt and Ellis. Cochrane and the Old Man went off to
join up with Nobby's party, having arranged to come down to the water
the same evening to show Johnny the way. The latter, looking like a
pantechnicon, passed several people in the distance and one man on a
donkey at a few yards. Finally he spotted the tracks of the previous
night, and in time came upon the correct nullah. It could now be seen
that there were three very similar shallow valleys running parallel to
one another, and that is how the searchers must have lost their way the
night before.
At 6.45 A.M. Johnny saw Grunt's head showing above the edge
of the nullah. Grunt was almost done to the world and looked ghastly.
Except for a little brandy (the party's one flask), he and Ellis had
had nothing to drink for twenty hours. They had each tried to take
an opium pill during the night, but simply could not swallow it. The
very brackish water Johnny had brought provided Grunt with what he
considered the best drink of his life. Ellis's thirst was unquenchable.
On the previous night they had heard some one whistling in the
distance, but had not dared to call out.
The three set about collecting sticks in the nullah and brewing some
strong tea, which refreshed them immensely. Except for two halts for
three-quarters of an hour, Johnny had been on the go for over twelve
hours, loaded for the last hour and a quarter with a weight of about
67 lb., owing to the extra water he was carrying. The day was passed
trying unsuccessfully to get some shade with coats placed over sticks.
Johnny slept only twenty minutes that day,--it was a trying time. The
party was split up, and Heaven alone knew when we should all be able
to join up again. However, they had two more brews of strong tea--one
at 2 P.M. and one at 5. The heat was too great for them to eat
anything.
Meanwhile the Old Man and Cochrane had rejoined the three on the hill,
who prepared them a welcome mugful of tea. On the way up they had
noticed a small cave. To this it was decided to move, in preference
to the present exposed position. Eight o'clock accordingly found the
five huddled up within the cave, thankful at least that they would be
sheltered from the sun for the day, but miserable at the thought of
what the other three must be going through.
An hour later a man appeared at the entrance. They at first understood
him to be a shepherd. He said he had seen the three arriving at dawn,
and watched the five move down to the cave, but that they had nothing
to fear. At the same time he rather anxiously inquired whether they
had firearms. Without Grunt to interpret, the five were somewhat at a
loss to follow the conversation that ensued, but, in dealing with this
unwelcome visitor, they at least had the benefit of Cochrane's former
experience of the art of escaping.
The uninvited guest was welcomed in, and was soon afterwards squatting
down and enjoying some of the party's precious 'baccy and biscuits.
The ease with which he bit off pieces of the latter testified to the
excellence of his teeth. When he was once more in a position to resume
the conversation, he led his hearers to believe that he had already
sent a message to the nearest gendarmes and was now awaiting their
arrival.
Possibly he was misunderstood, for cross-examination elicited the fact
that as yet no one else knew of the fugitives' whereabouts, and it
became evident that he would not be above accepting a bribe--a failing
for which the Turk is perhaps more famed than for any other of his
peculiarities. Casting longing eyes upon the clothing which protruded
from an open pack, he asked to have a look at a shirt. This seemed to
be to his taste, so it was thought expedient to offer it to him as
a gift. It was not disdained. That "woolley," too, looked warm and
useful. He might as well have that. A skein of rope now caught his eye,
so that also changed hands.
"Have you any gold?" was his next demand.
One must cry a halt somewhere to such greed, so the five regretted they
had not, but later had to compromise and give him paper money. With
the addition of some more 'baccy and biscuits he appeared temporarily
satisfied, and agreed to bring along some water and sour milk from the
Arab encampment. Nobby requested him to conceal his gifts. This he did
by the simple expedient of winding shirt, "woolley," and rope round his
waist beneath his cummerbund.
True to his word, he soon reappeared with a skin of water and a copper
bowl full of sour milk, promising to bring more in the evening. He
insisted, however, that his protégés should not show themselves outside
the cave. To this they agreed, although the latter was too cramped to
be comfortable,--nowhere was it wide or level enough to permit of any
real rest of body, and peace of mind was out of the question so long as
the fate of the missing three remained uncertain. It was decided not to
risk a "brew," although the "shepherd" had said they might safely do
so, and fuel in the shape of dried camel-thorn lay ready to hand.
As evening fell, the friend was back again, this time bringing water
only. His appreciation of the biscuits and tobacco, however, remained
unqualified.
Conversation was turning to lighter subjects, when it was interrupted
by the entrance of another chance (?) comer, who made no bones as to
the price of his silence, and proved a much more difficult customer
to square. He eventually accepted five liras in gold--the party had
discovered that they had some after all--together with some more paper
notes. He also said he was badly in need of a watch, so Cochrane handed
over his, omitting to mention, by the way, that it could only be coaxed
to go for a few hours at a time! Even so, it was not until 7.15 that
our cave-dwellers were able to get rid of this persistent stranger. The
next step was to effect a reunion with the missing three.
By the light of the young moon they moved off clear of the cave,
the track past which constituted a danger. No. 1 scallywag was then
informed that the five were not the only members of the party, and
that the other three must be collected before they themselves could
go on. In case the others should have been recaptured, it was thought
advisable not to send still another member of the party back to the
pond, for fear the spot where they had been should now be watched.
No. 1 was therefore impressed for the task, and provided with a note
to show to the absentees, if they arrived. He was instructed to come
back if they had not returned within three hours. At the best the
Turk has a poor idea of time. Two hours later he was back without the
missing three, but once more accompanied by No. 2. No explanation was
either asked for or given as to the latter's reappearance: it was quite
evident that the two had been in league from the beginning.
They now put forward a proposition: the Turkish authorities, they said,
were very much concerned about the escape of the twenty-five officers
from Yozgad. All the roads and paths round about were being watched,
and that very morning about sixty soldiers had been seen passing by the
locality, presumably looking for them. They suggested the party should
lie hidden in the cave for another three days, while things quietened
down a bit. After this they would themselves come along with us and
clear out of the country. Their story seemed likely enough; they had at
least named the correct number of officers who had escaped. Moreover,
it was impossible to think of going on without a final search for the
others. The five therefore fell in with the proposal provisionally and
returned to the cave. Looney then went down to the pool in the company
of the two "guides," to look around for the missing three.
These had started down their nullah at 6 P.M., taking things
very slowly with long halts for Ellis. In any case, it would have been
dangerous to cross the line again during daylight, so they stopped
amongst some shrubs a quarter of a mile short of the embankment. Here
they waited until 7.30 P.M. They then marched straight for the
pool, which they reached in another half-hour. Cochrane was nowhere
to be seen. All three now stripped, and had their first wash for five
days. Where they were the pool was very shallow, and they discovered
that the only way to wash the soap off was to lie first on the back and
then on the face. Cleaning the teeth they found refreshed them greatly.
Despite all the water and tea he had had during the day, Grunt drank
twelve pint mugfuls of the brackish water straight off the reel. This
may sound incredible, but the fact remains. After their bathe they
dressed and felt very clean. To sit and wait for Cochrane was the next
thing to do. The night was cool, and it was no use all keeping awake,
so Johnny took the first watch, while the others tried to sleep; but
the sand-flies and mosquitoes saw to it well that they did not get the
chance.
At 11 P.M. approaching steps could be heard. Grunt and Ellis
crept down the bank into hiding, and Johnny waited on the top. As
the shapes became visible, he was horrified to find that he did not
recognise them, and thought he was in for it, till Looney spoke.
The latter gave a hurried explanation of the presence of the two
murderous-looking strangers with him.
The four officers and the two brigands reached the cave about 11.30
P.M. Here was quite the stage setting for villainy of the
deepest dye. Two slopes meeting in a V stood out very clearly against
the bright starlit night. In the V a small crater was filled with the
most ruffianly-looking fellows in fezes, which English and Turks wore
alike. The peaceful shepherds, as we sometimes called them, talked
a lot and again agreed to come with us. They tried on our packs and
strappings. Cut-throat No. 1 appeared to be keen on joining us; No. 2
we thoroughly distrusted. At one side of the crater was the entrance
to the cave, at the end of which burned a candle, throwing flickering
shadows into the crater outside, and lighting up first one unshaven
and haggard face and then another. The peaceful shepherds took their
departure exactly at midnight--another touch of true melodrama--each
the richer by about thirty paper liras and some gold ones. The first
shepherd promised to bring some more milk and water in the morning.
It was too cramped in the cave, so we slept in the ravine outside--a
long sleep of nearly four hours. This was as much as we had had in
the previous five days. Grunt had slept least. The day Johnny took
him the water Grunt took some opium and slept for half an hour in the
afternoon, and this, with five minutes now and again at halts on the
march and his longer sleeps during the daytime, made a total of under
four and three-quarter hours out of one hundred and seventeen. Without
sleep, days spent in the hot sun and nights in carrying fifty pounds
over difficult country without any moon at all are apt to take it
out of one, and this we found was the case. We were becoming visibly
thinner.
Next morning the second peaceful shepherd told us that yet a third
peaceful shepherd had discovered our whereabouts, and though he did
not put in an appearance, his friend, kindly acting on his behalf,
took another thirty liras from us. This decided us to go off that very
night, as our money affairs would not stand the constant drain. To
be once more a complete party, however, was a great relief. Although
cramped for room--for we crowded ourselves into the smallest possible
space at the dark end of the cave--we were out of the burning sun. Our
spirits went up and we were all cheery, quite a change from other
days. By 11.30 A.M. three quite good jokes had already been
made. We were able to eat more, most of us managing several biscuits
and two ounces of cheese. This also could be accounted for by the
shade. The cheese was excellent, and was called by the endearing cheesy
diminutive of "Chedlet." It was eaten in the approved style, with a
penknife and by cutting pieces off towards the thumb. At about noon we
all momentarily held our breath, for we thought we heard footsteps. No
one appeared, however, and after a while we discovered the noise came
from a tortoise, which was scratching the ground at the entrance to the
cave.
During this day a decision was arrived at which affected the whole
trend of events. As the two Turks were going with us, we determined
to change our course and make almost due south, thereby reducing the
length of our march to the coast by about a hundred miles. By taking
this route we should, of course, have no boat to meet us, but we
relied on our guides to get a dhow. We thereupon proceeded to cut
down the food supply and kit which had been necessary for the longer
journey, and rely on our delightful friends to purchase food for us
from any convenient villages we might pass. Travelling lighter, we
should be able to move more quickly. We knew that the Salt Desert had
to be crossed on our newly-chosen route, but we were prepared to take
the risk of having a few thirsty marches. The last sentence written
in Johnny's diary that afternoon was, "Grunt, I am glad to say, is
sleeping."
At 8.15 P.M. a miniature avalanche of stones rattles over the
cave, and thus heralded, the peaceful shepherds enter. They are late,
but the slight delay does not matter, as in any case we cannot risk
going down to the water near the tent encampment until it is quite
dark. It is a spring of sweet water to which they are going to take us,
and not to the brackish pool, so we follow them. About a hundred yards
short of the water we are made to halt. Shepherd No. 1 then takes us in
pairs to get a drink and fill our water-bottles: one pair has nearly
got to the spring when the shepherd suddenly freezes and then squats
down--actions which his companions hasten to imitate. Some one has
arrived from the camp to draw water. Nothing happens, however, and when
the footsteps have died away they go on to the spring, rejoining the
party shortly afterwards.
We now retraced our steps up the ravine, and here once more our friends
stopped us. Before going any farther, they wanted to know what they
were going to receive for their trouble. We told them that when we got
to the sea we would take them with us to Cyprus, and there give them
each £200. The arrangement, however, was not at all to their liking.
What they wanted was ready cash. They now demanded from each officer
another fifteen liras down. To comply with this demand was of course
impossible, as it would have run us out of nearly all our money, with
most of our journey still to go--especially at the present rate of
meeting peaceful shepherds. We therefore told them that all the money
they were to expect was a lump sum when we were free men.
At this the ruffians refused to come with us. Warning them that if
we were caught by gendarmes we should know who had given us away, we
promised to make known to the officers of the law how good our friends
had been to us. After an hour's irksome haggling we decided to go on
without them. We set off, and had not climbed one hundred yards up
the hill when the kind shepherds changed their minds and offered to
accompany us without thought of profit.
FOOTNOTE:
[10] Many of the British rank and file prisoners were employed on this
nearer Angora.