DOWN TO THE SEA.
When daylight came, we found ourselves in a network of extraordinary
valleys. Large trees grew on the rock-strewn slopes, while along the
bottoms were little strips of bright red soil, sprinkled with stones,
and yet suggestive of great fertility; and indeed in some parts it
was clear that the ground had in a previous year been ploughed. Yet
as far as human habitation was concerned the valley seemed entirely
deserted; only here and there as we marched on we passed a few timbers
of some ruined shelter, indicating its former occupation by shepherd
inhabitants. The whole scene gave the impression that here had once
been flourishing well-watered vales, which had then been blasted by
some strange upheaval of nature, by which the whole water supply had
suddenly been cut off and the former inhabitants compelled to quit.
To open our eyes on such a scene did not tend to revive our spirits. We
had not a drop of water in our water-bottles, and although a valley
was soon found leading in the right direction, we followed it without
much hope of being able to quench our thirst. After an hour or so,
however, at a place where the valley widened a little, we picked up in
the soft red soil a number of goat-tracks, and noticed that several
others joined them, all seeming to converge towards the same spot.
These suggested water, but soon after they suddenly ceased.
Fifty yards up the hill there was a stone enclosure, and just as
Cochrane was leading on, Nobby thought it was advisable to make sure
there was nothing there. This was most fortunate, for inside he found a
well. Next moment we were all within the enclosure, and on lifting out
the heavy timber bung which closed the hole in the stone-built cover,
found water not twenty feet down. It tasted slightly stale, and no
doubt the well had not been used for some time; but this did not affect
our enjoyment of a couple of brews of "boulgar" (porridge made from
crushed wheat), which were now prepared, and flavoured with a spoonful
of our precious cocoa.
Still more refreshing to those who could summon up the necessary
energy, was a wash and a shave. Even a wash-hand basin was provided in
the shape of a little stone trough which was built into the enclosure
wall, and was doubtless intended for use in watering the flocks of
sheep and goats.
After nearly two hours' grateful rest and refreshment, we resumed our
course, and soon after entered a broad ravine. Here grew enormous
oak-trees, seeming to flourish amid the barest rock and boulders,
although the bed of this quaint valley appeared to have had no water
in it for ages. At one point, where we halted under the shelter of a
rocky outcrop, some of the party filled a haversack with the tips of
stinging-nettles. Gloves were not an item of our equipment, and our
fingers were badly stung, but a little spinach would provide a pleasant
variation in our next cooked meal.
We went on till 11 A.M. without seeing a single sign of life.
Then we came to a strong timber barrier across the narrow foot of the
valley, and saw beyond it a man engaged in winnowing. We quickly drew
back out of view, and decided we should have to make a detour. The
country was not so desolate or uninhabited as we had thought. First,
however, we would fortify ourselves with a little food. For this
purpose we climbed a short way up the western side of the valley and
settled down in the shelter of a big tree. While Cochrane and Perce
cooked some "boulgar," the rest lay down and were soon fast asleep.
It was a hard struggle indeed to rouse oneself from such delightful
oblivion of all our cares, but our Mr Greatheart was not to be denied,
and after our food we left the Enchanted Ground.
To avoid the risk of being seen by people in the valley, it was now
necessary to climb up the steep rocky ridge ahead instead of circling
round its foot as would otherwise have been possible. The surface was
atrocious; jagged points of rock cut into our feet through the soles
of our much-worn footgear. If one wished to avoid a sprained ankle,
every step had to be taken with care, for the rock was cut up into
innumerable crannies and honeycombed with holes. It took eight hundred
feet of stiff climbing to reach the top of the first ridge. Beyond it
we were not pleased to find a whole series of equally steep though
smaller ridges and valleys, and all at right angles to our proper
course. After a long struggle we had to give up the idea of going
straight ahead, and instead began to follow down one of the valleys.
This led us back into country very similar to that in which we had
found ourselves early that morning: once more our path took us over the
small boulders and down the line of red earth.
There were no further signs of life until nearly four o'clock. Our
sudden appearance then startled three or four small children who were
tending some goats on the hillside. A moment later we came into view of
a single black tent, set up at the junction of two branches into which
the valley now divided.
Concealment was impossible; besides, we were in our usual trouble
for water. The only inhabitant seemed to be an old woman, who came
out of the tent to find out why the children had run back. To avoid
frightening her, the party halted some distance off, while Cochrane and
Grunt went forward alone to find out what sort of reception might be
expected.
For some minutes the Circassian (for we thought she must be one) stood
talking to the two envoys at the door of her tent. Then she signalled
us to approach, and invited the whole party inside her abode. Here
she offered the equivalent in the East of a chair--namely, a seat on
the mats which covered the earthen floor. The amiable old dame next
produced a large circular tray, which she set in our midst, and on
which she placed some wafer-like chupatties and a couple of bowls of
the inevitable "yourt." Never did simple meal taste so sweet, but the
amount provided served only to whet the appetite of the eight hungry
travellers. It was gently suggested that we should like a little more;
we told her we would pay for everything we had. At the same time we
produced some of our mugs as likely to provide a method of eating the
"yourt" more in keeping with our hunger. Lest the full number should
alarm her, we tendered only four, and these she filled readily enough,
and several times over, from an almost unlimited supply which she kept
in a row of large copper vessels standing along one side of the tent.
We noticed also several large sacks, which we thought must contain
flour or wheat, and thought it would be advisable to lay in further
supplies if we could. Not a thing, however, would our hostess sell:
neither flour, wheat, cheese, goat, nor fowls. We asked her to make us
some more chupatties, but without avail. No money would tempt her--she
was evidently not a Turk,--even the offer of a little tea could not
work the oracle. Her hospitality--and it was true hospitality that she
had shown to us--was limited to what we might eat on the premises.
From what we could gather from her rather peculiar Turkish, the old
lady seemed afraid to sell us anything without her husband's consent.
It was impossible not to admire her steadfastness, and as we left we
presented her with three silver medjidies (worth altogether about
twelve shillings). On this she relaxed to the extent of allowing us to
take three eggs that she had.
We tried to find out how far we were from the sea; but she seemed
hardly to know of its existence, so cut off had she been all her life
in her mountain fastness. She directed us, however, to some other tents
farther down one of the valleys, and said we might be able to buy some
food there; so thither we now wended our way. There was a well outside
the tent, but it was dry at the time and was being deepened. A few
drops of water which she had given us within had come from some distant
stream, she said. "Yourt," however, is a wonderful thirst-quencher, so
lack of water did not cause any worry for the time being.
We agreed, as we went on, that if we found the tents which we were
now seeking, only half the party should go to buy; partly because we
thought in that way we should be less likely to frighten the occupants
from selling us food, and partly to avoid letting people see the exact
strength of our party, in case any one should take it into his head to
report our presence. Accordingly, when three-quarters of an hour later
we arrived at two more tents, Cochrane and Nobby approached one, and
Grunt and Looney the other. The first pair were not received with very
open arms, and had to be satisfied with only a little "yourt" eaten
on the spot, and a few coarse chupatties which they were able to take
away with them. They came on to the second tent, to find that the other
pair had fallen upon their feet. They had arrived at a very propitious
moment. Just inside the doorway they had found a smiling old dame
busily engaged in making the chupatties for the family's evening meal.
With some of these she regaled her guests, and Grunt at once asked
her if she would bake some more for companions of his who had gone on
to prepare the camp for the night. With a good deal of coaxing, and
influenced perhaps a little by the sight of silver coins, she finally
made another dozen. Meanwhile another woman entered and ladled out
some beautiful fresh milk which was boiling in a large cauldron in the
tent. The four were able to enjoy two mugfuls of this between them,
but could only induce the woman to give them one more mugful to take
away for the others. After much haggling, however, and on receipt of
two medjidies, she was persuaded to let them have six pounds of fresh
cheese made from goats' milk.
As prearranged, the rest of the party had gone a few hundred yards
farther down the ravine in which stood the tents, and finding that no
further purchases were to be made the four now rejoined them.
The camping-ground had been chosen some forty yards up the southern
side of the ravine. The steep slope was covered with pine and oak
trees, and at their feet we slept. It mattered little to us that our
beds were uneven. We had before this slept soundly at all angles and on
pointed rocks; and here we had a mattress of leaves and pine-needles
on which to lay our weary bodies. The occasional bark of a dog or the
soft hoot of an owl were the only sounds that broke the stillness of
the night. Through the trees could be seen patches of the starlit
heaven. We owed much to those wonderful stars. Big and bright in these
latitudes, they had led us on our way for many a night, and when there
was no moon to befriend us they had lighted our path so that we could
still march slowly on.
It was after a sound and refreshing sleep, that shortly before 4
A.M. next day, while it was yet dark, we shouldered our packs
and moved eastwards down the stony bed of the confined valley. This
gave on to a broader one at right angles to it; crossing which we
halted in a small wood for an hour to prepare our simple breakfast.
Here Cochrane climbed an oak-tree hoping to obtain a glimpse of the
sea, but it was not yet in sight.
Hardly had we started off again when we suddenly saw a boy coming
towards us through the wood. He was carrying a few chupatties and a bag
of "yourt." We stopped the lad, and although at first he was unwilling
to part with the food, which he intended to sell to some tent-dwellers,
yet finally we persuaded him to humour us in exchange for two silver
medjidies. While eating this unexpected addition to our breakfast, we
questioned the boy as to our whereabouts. Though very uncertain about
it, he thought the sea was three hours' journey away: the nearest big
town was Selefké (the ancient Seleucia), but where it was he did not
know; we should see a well near two tents in the next village.
Thus informed we left him, and on emerging from the wood saw the two
tents about a mile distant and close to what must be the main road
to Selefké; away to our left stood some very fine ruins. Through
field-glasses they looked like some ancient Greek temple.
We decided to go to the tents for water, and in order to vary our
story to suit our surroundings, for this occasion we would be German
archæologists. Arriving at the encampment, we were received by an old
Turk and his grown-up son, and taken into the bigger tent. Here we sat
down on a carpet, and leant against what felt like sacks of grain.
Having given our reason for being in the locality, we explained that we
were willing to pay a good price for antiques.
"I have none," replied the old fellow. "Of what value are such things
to me? But you Germans are for ever searching after relics from ruins.
Four years ago a party just like yours came here for the very same
purpose, asking for ancient coins and pottery." So we had hit upon a
most suitable story.
A little girl now appeared on the scene. To keep up the conversation we
asked the old man her age.
"She's seven years old," he answered, "and my youngest grandchild. I
have six sons, of whom five are at the war. One of them is a _chaouse_
(sergeant) on the Palestine front; another an _onbashi_ (corporal) near
Bagdad. I had another son in Irak too, but he was taken prisoner by the
English."
"Have you good news of him?" asked one of us.
"Yes, I had a letter from him a year ago, saying he was in good health
and well treated."
What the other two in the Army were doing we do not remember, though
doubtless we were told. The sixth son, perchance a conscientious
objector, was in the tent with us. He joined in the conversation now
and again, and finally produced a musical instrument like a deformed
mandolin.
"Can any of you play?" he asked.
"I don't think any of us can," replied our Turkish scholar. "But we
should like to hear you play us something," he added politely. "First,
however, could we have some water to drink? We are all very thirsty."
This saved us the ordeal of listening to Oriental music, for the little
child was sent round to each of us in turn with a shallow metal cup
of water, and by the time we had had a drink the musician had put
his instrument away. Encouraged by these beginnings of hospitality,
we asked if they had any bread for sale. At this the old man shouted
some questions to the other tent, at the door of which a woman soon
appeared. She talked so fast that we could not understand what she
said, but the expression on her face and all her gestures gave us
clearly to understand that she had never heard such impudence. In the
end, however, the old Turk gave us half a chupattie each. Meanwhile two
of the party had gone off to the well to fill all our water-bottles,
the rest remaining in the tent trying to persuade the man to give us
more bread. Since no more was forthcoming, as soon as the two returned
with water we moved on again.
Food-hunting was now becoming a vice, of which, in our hungry
condition, we found it difficult to cure ourselves. Though we had
still some of the food bought at the big village on August 24, we
eased our consciences with the thought that we might have to spend
some days on the coast before we found a boat. Moreover, in these
isolated tents, dotted about in so unfrequented a district, we might
with safety try to obtain additional supplies, for there was not much
likelihood of meeting gendarmes, and there was no town very near where
the tent-dwellers could give information about us. The next few hours,
therefore, were spent in searching for these isolated dwellings. But
our luck had changed, for at four tents we were received with a very
bad grace. One old woman, in particular, who, without any make up,
could have played with great success the part of one of the witches in
"Macbeth," showed great animosity towards us, and ended her tirade by
saying that nothing would induce her to give food to Christians.
Thus rebuffed, we marched on. A mile to our left front were the ruins
we had seen earlier in the day. Their fluted columns were immense, and
the capitals richly carved; but a closer inspection would mean going
out of our way, and a few minutes later they were lost to view.
Only two of us went to the fifth tent that we saw. The remainder walked
on a few hundred yards, and waited hidden in a small valley, easily
recognisable, because it led up to a conspicuous tree. Half an hour
later the two rejoined the main body, having bought 1½ lb. of crushed
wheat and the dixie half full of porridge made with plenty of sour
milk. This was divided amongst the six, as the purchasers had had a few
spoonfuls in the tent.
Continuing, we came across some dry wells and also a few fruit trees.
The fruit was unripe, unpleasant to taste, and unknown to any of us;
but we ate it. The trees may have been plum-trees, which after many
decades had reverted to the wild state. At 1 P.M. we found a
well containing a little water, and not far from another tent. Once
more only two went to buy supplies, while the others stayed at the
well. Here, after much talk, the old woman in the tent let our agents
have a dozen chupatties and some good cheese. The latter she took
out of a goat-skin bag from under a millstone, where it was being
pressed. Though rather strong, it was very good indeed, and tasted like
gorgonzola. Near the tent was a bed of water-melons and a patch of
Indian corn; but the good lady refused to sell any of these. Judging
by the heap of melon-skins lying in a corner of the tent, she and her
better-half were very partial to this fruit; hence, no doubt, her
disinclination to part with any. We now decided that we were becoming
demoralised by this "yourt-hunting," and that we would not visit
any more tents; so when, half an hour after resuming our march, we
passed close to one, we walked by it without taking any notice of the
occupants.
All this time the going was very bad. Countless small nullahs crossed
our path. The ground was rocky and thickly covered with thorny bushes
the height of a man, so that it was necessary to take a compass-bearing
every few minutes. For a long time we had been steering a very zigzag
course, when at 2.15 P.M. we arrived at the head of one of
these many nullahs and saw beneath us a deep ravine running in a
south-east direction.
Through the undergrowth at the bottom it was possible to recognise the
dry stony bed of a river, and this we decided to follow. A little north
of where we were the ravine made a right-angled turn, and at this bend
we were able to find a track to the bottom. Elsewhere the sides were
sheer precipice, impossible to descend. On our way down we passed a
massive sarcophagus hewn out of the solid rock. The lid had been moved
to one side, and the chamber was empty--a result, perhaps, of the
visit of the German archæologists of whom the old Turk had spoken that
morning. An eerie place for a tomb it looked, perched on the side of
a steep cliff. It was a relic of a former civilisation. That part of
Asia Minor was once fertile and well populated, but some underground
disturbance of nature had diverted or dried up the water without which
the land could no longer live. Now it is a dead country. The terraced
gardens near the coast still retain their step formation, but that is
all. Only the wild locust-tree can find enough moisture to produce its
fruit, and bird and animal life have almost ceased to exist.
On reaching the bottom of the ravine in safety, we allowed ourselves
nearly an hour's rest before we followed the slope of the stream. This
in the main continued to take us in a south-easterly direction, though
at times it ran due east. Along the bottom ran a rough and stony track,
crossing frequently from one side of the river-bed to the other as the
valley twisted and turned. At many points, too, it had been overgrown
by the thick brushwood which had sprung up in the scanty soil at the
foot of the ravine, and often we had to push our way through.
By this time, in fact, marching was altogether a most painful
performance. Our footgear was at an end. Uppers had all but broken away
from the soles, which were nearly worn through, so that walking over
stones was a refined torture. After two hours' going in the ravine we
saw a side valley running into the left bank. Here was a camel with two
foals, which were picking up a scanty living in the main river-bed. We
also heard the bells of goats and the voice of a small boy shouting
to them somewhere on the top of the ravine. Assuming there was a tent
village not far off, we made as little noise as possible. Nothing
however appeared. Towards six o'clock we came to a very sharp bend,
where the track we had been following climbed up the side of the ravine
in a southerly direction. At the time we debated whether to follow the
track or the river-bed, and finally decided on the latter course. As we
proceeded, the bed became rougher and rougher and the track less and
less defined, and just before dark we halted. We had walked for many
hours that day, but could only credit ourselves with five miles in the
right direction.
Moonlight, for which we had decided to wait, did not reach us in our
canyon till after 2 A.M. next morning, though the moon itself
had risen some time before. In the meantime we had cooked a little
porridge and obtained a few hours' sleep. Now we retraced our steps
till we came to where the track had left the ravine, and up this we
climbed into the open.
At the top we found ourselves in an old graveyard near a few deserted
and ruined huts. Halting for five or six minutes, we ate a few
mouthfuls of food and lightened our water-bottles. We then followed
the track till 5 A.M., when we came to another deserted
village. Near this was a well; so we replenished our stock, and halted
in some thick scrub a few hundred yards farther on. Here Grunt, to his
consternation, discovered that he had lost a small cloth bag containing
one and a half chupatties and two sovereigns. The loss of the coins
was nothing, but the bread was all-important. Grunt therefore decided
to go back to the deserted village near the graveyard, where he had
last eaten from the bag, and Nobby went with him. A couple of hours
later the searchers returned with the coveted bag, and said they
had seen the sea; the rest could raise no enthusiasm, and were very
sceptical.
At a quarter to eight we set forth from our hiding-place, and five
minutes later the party as a whole had its first view of the sea.
The morning sun was on it, making sky and sea one undivided sheen.
It was difficult to realise that at last we were near the coast.
From the point where we were to the shore could be barely six miles.
Within forty miles of the coast we had been at a height of something
approaching 5000 feet, but each ridge we had passed had in front of
it another to hide the sea from us. Thus it was that not until we had
marched for twenty-three nights and twenty-two days did we first look
on it. As we scanned the water through the field-glasses, it looked as
dead as the adjacent country. Not a sail was in sight anywhere, not a
single ripple disturbed the shining sheet of glass in front of us. With
heads uncovered, and with thankful hearts, we stood gazing, but without
being in any way excited. Thus it was that no shout like the "Thalassa!
Thalassa!" of Xenophon's Ten Thousand broke from the lips of our little
band that still August morning; although here was the end of our land
journey at last in sight after a march of some 330 miles. Had we seen a
single boat it would have been different. There was nothing.
Our great desire now was to get down to the coast itself. We thought
that there must surely be a village somewhere down on the shore, where
we should be able either to get hold of a boat at night or to bribe
a crew with a promise of much money if they would land us at Cyprus.
Before us, the intervening country was covered with bare rocks, stunted
trees, and scrub, and fell away to the sea in a series of small ridges
and terraces. Still following the track, our party, weary and hot, came
to a halt at 11 A.M. on the 30th August, two miles from the
shore, in the shade of a ruined stone tower. There were similar square
towers dotted along the coast; perhaps their ancient use, like that of
our own Martello towers, had been to ward off a foreign invasion should
need arise; or, in less exciting times, to show lights towards the sea
to guide at night the ships in those waters. We stopped at the tower,
because we thought it was unsafe to go farther and risk being seen by
any coastguard that might happen to be stationed there. It was well
we did so. From here Cochrane went on alone, and while he was away we
saw our first boat. Coming round a headland of the coast, a few miles
east of us, a motor-boat passed across our front and disappeared into
a narrow bay a mile and a half to our west. She towed a cutter full of
men. Cochrane also had seen them, and came back to the tower to tell us
the news; unfortunately, he had not found the hoped-for village.
A few yards from the tower was a shallow stone-built well. Its water,
though very dirty, being merely a puddle at the bottom, for us was
drinkable. The day was very oppressive, with a damp heat, so we
refreshed ourselves with a dixieful of tea. After this, Cochrane,
taking Ellis with him, again went forward, this time to try to find
the exact anchorage of the motor-boat. On their return they said
there were tents on the shore. In one of them were horses, and in the
neighbourhood several Turkish soldiers were moving about. Studying our
map, we decided we were within three miles of Pershembé, a point for
which we had headed for some days past. The coast-line before us ran
N.E. and S.W. We were on a narrow plateau one and a half mile from the
sea, and the high ground continued till within a few hundred yards of
the water; in some places even to the edge of the coast itself, which
was indented with small bays and creeks.
On the headland to the east, and gleaming white in the sunshine, stood
a magnificent stone-built town, walled and turreted, but showing
no signs of being inhabited. Nearer to us, on the foreshore, was a
small lagoon, spanned at one corner by an old bridge: on the water's
edge could be seen green reeds and half a dozen palm-trees, and here
three or four camels were feeding. Opposite to the lagoon and some
eight hundred yards off the shore was a small island fortress, its
turreted and loopholed walls rising sheer from the sea. It boasted fine
bastioned towers, and when the sun was willing to act as master showman
this dazzling gem was framed in a fit setting of sapphire. This, though
we did not know its name at the time, was Korghos Island.
Here may be mentioned a very peculiar coincidence, although we only
learnt of it after our return to England. This was, that Keeling, after
his escape from Kastamoni, had spared himself no trouble in attempting
to arrange schemes of escape for his former companions, and only a
few weeks after our departure a number of his code messages reached
the camp at Yozgad, amongst them one detailing our best route to this
very island of Korghos. Here were to be waiting either agents with a
supply of food or a boat, between three different pairs of dates: one
of those periods coincided with part of this very time that we were on
the coast. When we eventually reached Cyprus, we learnt also that two
agents had been landed on Korghos Island, but that they had been seen
and captured.
To continue the description of the coast at which we had arrived:
immediately below us the ground fell away to a low-lying stretch of
foreshore, which extended for nearly a mile between the end of our
plateau and the sea. Half a mile west of us lay a deep ravine, which
looked as if it would run into the creek entered by the motor-boat.
Along the sea and lined by the telegraph poles the main coast road
wound its way. In the early evening Nobby, Looney, and Johnny went off
to reconnoitre, but it was impossible to approach the coast by daylight
because of the men moving about, and they had to return to the tower
with little additional information. There were five tents for men and
a larger one for horses, and though no guns were visible it was very
probable that here was a section of a battery for dealing with any boat
that might attempt to spy out the nakedness of the land. Two years
before that time, Lord Rosebery's yacht, the _Zaida_, had been mined
a few miles along the coast at a place called Ayasch Bay, which she
had entered for the purpose of landing spies. Four of her officers had
come to the prisoners' camp at Kastamoni, and we heard from the three
of them who survived that there had been some field-guns on the shore
where they were captured.
Our resting-place near the tower was an unsatisfactory one. We were
close to water, it is true, but we were also close to a track leading
down to the coast, and though we were soon to change our minds, we
thought at the time that no flies in the world could be as persistent
and insatiable as those which all day attacked us. For these reasons,
and the additional one of wishing to be nearer the creek which we
thought the motor-boat had entered, we decided to move to the ravine
half a mile west of our tower. We would visit the well early in the
morning and late at night for replenishing our water supply.
Accordingly at dusk we again packed up. Our way led us through thick
undergrowth along neglected terraces, and at about 6.30 P.M.
we were on the edge of the steep-sided valley. By a stroke of luck we
almost immediately found a way down to the bottom. Although we were
to become all too well acquainted with that ravine, we only found one
other possible line of ascent and descent on the tower side, and one
path up the western edge. The river-bed, of course, was dry, and filled
with huge boulders and thickly overgrown with bushes. Pushing our way
through these, we had only gone a quarter of a mile down the ravine
when we decided to halt for the night.