CHAPTER XIII

FRANCE, EGYPT AND SYRIA

Dieppe - Its delightful raffish Society - Escape from deadly Cheltenham - A queer old house - A byegone type of Roman ecclesiastic - Did Columbus discover America? - Brief resumé of contra-argument - H.M.S. Marlborough - I get to Egypt - Vivid impressions - Danvers and the Sphinx - H.M.S. Malacca and Gerard Napier - Many trips - Tight place in Adăna - Crossing the River Gihun - A night in a Turcoman camp - Antioch - Its byegone splendour - Legend of the Holy Lance - Countless millions of migrating wild duck.

AT Dieppe, on the Qua! Henri IV., my father had taken a queer old house - built in the latter part of the sixteenth century - with brick floors in most of the rooms and beams overhead that would have safely carried a gun-deck. A frowsy little cafe, which reeked of stale fish and sea-boots, occupied the ground-floor, and was known as "La Vigne," for a large vine sprang out of the narrow pavement and clambered all over the front of the house. Into this cafe, at all hours of the day and night, in search of absinthe, clumped big-booted, loutish French fishermen, using fearful language, but fortunately only understood by themselves ; with douanniers ; carpenters ; men who dug gravel ; English sailors out of colliers and the Newhaven steamboats ; and all the nondescript riff-raff of

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a French seaport. The back part of the premises behind the porte cochère was occupied by a wine merchant, who also made cider, and from the cellars proceeded the never-ending ratt, tatt, tatt, rumble, rumble, rumble, of a cooper. But at night no human being would set foot in this damp and gloomy region, for it was universally believed to be haunted by some terrible spectre, as, indeed, was the whole house : so that my father got our rooms at a very low rent. But, in spite of these drawbacks, this quaint, rambling, old house and its surroundings were much more congenial to us all than Ashley Lodge, for, without exception, we all hated Cheltenham. At Dieppe all was different the few people we knew we liked much as we had those of old Boulogne days, and much the same class amongst them an easy-going, old swell, a sequestrated rector, who preached in drawling accents, lolling over his pulpit in lavender kid gloves many sizes too large for him. The place itself, too, had much interest about it ; the long piers and the ever-changing sea an unfailing source of diversion ; whilst under our windows the busy scene of fleets of fishing-boats, the fighting and wrangling of the semi-drunken, old fish-fags who handled the glittering fish, the crowd of sea-sick tourists and travellers disembarking out of the steamers an endless amusement. Then the country around abounded with interest, history and romance at every turn : ancient manoirs, churches of great architectural beauty, everywhere reminiscences of the time when all this land was but part of England's kingdom.

My father and I - between whom a genial and loving intimacy had grown up, strangely in contrast with my boyish feelings - roamed all over the country and read up its history, becoming acquainted with a priest of the old school of Catholics, the Abbé Malet, Rector of Martin Èglise, an accomplished scholar, author of "Le Calendrier

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Normand" and other historical works, a man of the world, a courtier, one who might have been a Cardinal Mazarin had opportunity offered. As it was, siding with the Royalists, fate had buried him in this remote Norman village, but possibly infinitely better off than had he climbed to wear the purple. It was the Abbé Malet who first put me on the track of the history of a celebrated Dieppe captain, one Cousin, who incontrovertibly sailed up the Orinoco or the Amazon two years before Columbus "discovered" America. Amongst Cousin's crew was a Spaniard, called Vincent Pinzon, who, for misconduct, was tried by court-martial on Cousin's return to France, and expelled the country. He went straight to Huelva, in Spain, where his brothers were small shipowners, his visit exactly coinciding with that of Columbus to the Convent of La Rabida, near Huelva. It is too long a story to tell here. Moreover, I have told it in the Fortnightly Review, and, with the exception of a mistake of my own in chronology, has never been contradicted by any one who has given himself the trouble to examine my facts. Briefly, however, this same Vincent Pinzon, who two years before was with Cousin in the rivers above-mentioned, accompanied Columbus in one of his own brother's ships, the remarkable fact being that Columbus had refused a great ship offered him by Ferdinand and Isabella, in order to take the wretched little caravel belonging to Pinzon' s brothers. Did Pinzon tell Columbus of his cruise with Cousin, or did he not ? It is quite true that Columbus, in the garbled and mutilated document which passes for his journal, does not say that he heard of this cruise, but is it likely he would ? But it is quite beyond dispute that he had on board with him a man who had seen the great continent across the Atlantic, and I, for one, decline to believe that there was no connection between this circumstance and the selection by Columbus

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of the miserable tubs belonging to this man's brothers. This, however, is a mere outline of the evidence.

* * * * *

Early in the following year I was appointed as Sub-Lieutenant for disposal to the Marlborough, Flag-ship in the Mediterranean. This ship was then the acme of Naval splendour, the largest and most powerful fighting machine in existence, perfect in drill and discipline, and one of the "smartest" ships that ever floated, insomuch that her cleanliness and order struck wonder even into our minds, accustomed as we were to a high degree of excellence in all things pertaining to a man-of-war. From the truck to the kelson she was the same - this magnificent three-decker - her sides shining in the sun like a mirror, every one of her one hundred and thirty guns a looking-glass, every particle of brass like polished gold, her decks like snow, her crew as clean, powerful, well-set-up a body of men (one thousand four hundred in all, if I remember aright) as ever served their country. Even to this day, amongst us old hands, the Marlborough's commission is cited as the apogee of Naval discipline and good order, and certainly, though I am far from being a laudator temporis acti, I confess I have never seen anything like it since. I was a very short time in the Marlborough, being transferred to an ancient vessel, still, I believe, performing the duty of receiving-ship in Malta the Hibernia and from her to a vessel lying in Alexandria the Doris where I joined her, thus obtaining my first sight of a land that had always fascinated me when, as a boy, I had stumbled through Herodotus, wondering if he could be the liar my master at Cheltenham took such pains to make us believe him to have been.

I had three days in Cairo, still in its untouched Orientalism, Shepherd's Hotel now noisy and crowded with Yankees and Germans then a delightful, rambling

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caravanserai frequented by travellers for India, who started on their desert journey for Suez from its doors. The whole city was to me one unbroken delight from the gorgeously dressed grooms running before the Pashas' carriages, the veiled women, their dark eyes peering above the yashmak, the motley crowd of Orientals from every corner of Islam the colour and bustle of the Bazaar, the camels, stalking along majestically after their long tramp from Samarkand or Bokhara, or kneeling down with groans, curses, and bubbling mouths, waiting impatiently to be relieved of their loads, down to the rows of fleet, smooth-skinned donkeys outside the hotel. Although my time was short, I succeeded in seeing the Pyramids, the Sphinx, the Citadel, many mosques, and Memphis. In those days few white men ascended the Pyramids, why, I cannot say, for certainly few climbs can better repay their toil. Apart from the associations of the scene, the wonder of the great desert, which rises up all round to the level of one's eyes, threaded by the Nile, and the belt of green, cultivated land ; the world-famed city of Cairo at one's feet and Memphis within easy reach all go to make the view from the top of the great Pyramid absolutely unique. My companion, Danvers, one of our midshipmen, and I clambered up to the top unaided, but not without several scuffles with the Arabs, who then, as now, pestered one with offers of aid. We remained up nearly an hour, entranced by the scene, and on reaching the bottom again determined to climb to the top of the Sphinx, a feat not often accomplished up to that time, even by the Arabs themselves. I failed half way up, slipped and rolled down, fortunately on to sand (for there are many rocks and stones at the base), but Danvers to the evident disgust of the Arabs reached the top safely, coming down over the forehead and by the large blocks which represent the hair, a perilous track, which had never been attempted

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before. We had both taken off our shoes to climb, and mine I found on my return to earth, but Danvers's were missing, and, looking up, he saw an Arab, having evidently stolen them, bolting across the sands. He instantly started in pursuit, the Arabs laughing at the idea of a white man catching a son of the desert. But they did not know that this particular white man could do a mile under five minutes. He quickly overtook the Arab, a large, brawny man, caught him by the neck, seized his boots and returned perfectly unconcerned. It might have led to an awkward situation, for we two youngsters were entirely alone and the Arabs a lawless, reckless set. But a Sheik came up just as we were preparing for a general row, and took us in charge, when, mounting our donkeys, we trotted off to Cairo.

Fired with a passion for everything Oriental, I now studied with what meagre materials were within my reach all I could of Egypt, the Holy Land, Asia Minor and Turkey. I bought a battered edition of Sale's Koran, borrowed an English Herodotus, Josephus, and some few books on travel, and what became later of great use an Arabic vocabulary, containing the simplest and most necessary words, numerals, weights, and so forth. With this useful, but superficial, equipment of learning, and knowing French and Italian well, and with a smattering of German, I was quite able not only to take an interest in Eastern matters, which grew and grew the more I knew of them, but to travel about and make myself more or less understood. For it was unusual except very much out of the beaten track not to find some one who knew something of one of the four European languages. Moreover, I could still read and translate Greek inscriptions, nor had my Latin deserted me, and this was an endless source of delight.

All this fortuitously acquired knowledge for all knowledge

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is a matter of chance and opportunity procured me throughout our Squadron a far higher reputation for general information than I deserved, which, however like reputation everywhere, whether deserved or not was not to be despised, as it got me many excursions with my Captains or senior brother officers.

I was only a few days in the Doris, and then was sent to the Malacca, a corvette - built of teak in the old days at Moulmein - carrying seventeen guns. She was weakly engined and a poor sailer. The Captain, Gerard Napier, was a sombre man, whom it was difficult to conceive had ever chucked a girl under the chin. I have travelled with him for days without ever finding out what he liked or what he did not like, for he resented bonhomie, and would shrink into himself at an allusion at which Hannah More or Mrs. Hemans would have smiled.

He was essentially a reserved man, one of those natures which never shakes itself clear of a mistrusting self-consciousness, and never quite at home, even with its equals. He never betrayed a shade of emotion, but always impressed one as a brave, upright gentleman, which, indeed, he was in every action of his life. He was friendly with me, and nearly every expedition on which he went, in Syria or Palestine, I went with him, and, though not well read, he tried to find out a little about things around him.

During our stay on the coast of Syria, forty-eight hours were generally the limit of leave we could get, and this to reach distant places, over bad roads, was very insufficient.

Whilst in the Gulf of Scanderoon I visited Tarsus. It was a difficult and somewhat hazardous journey, for the whole of that part of Cilicia was over-run by Turkoman nomads, living in their Kibitkas, and not over nice as to whom they robbed. I could at first get

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no brother officer to accompany me, for we were told there was nothing to see and that Tarsus was "rot," but at the eleventh hour, Neville, one of my messmates, a most excellent and sturdy companion, agreed to go with me. We managed to get a mongrel Levantine as guide, who knew that Lingua franca which is spoken in the Levant and resembles Italian more than any other, and, mounted on a couple of the sorriest-looking Turkoman horses with extremely uncomfortable native saddles on which we perched like monkeys, or American jockeys, we started off one morning at about four, whilst it was still dark, making first for the Castle of Ayas, a place of immemorial antiquity dating back to the time of Cyrus, but, within recent years, the stronghold of a celebrated chief, El Kut-choak, who robbed caravans in good old mediaeval fashion, this being one of the world's highways. The Castle, now a ruin, was occupied by a few wandering cut-throats, men and women, neither Turkoman, Kurd, nor Greek, nor any other known nationality ; a sun-scorched, half-naked set of savages, living Heaven alone knows how or why. We were glad to get clear of them gathering round clamouring for backsheesh and found ourselves traversing a bare, deserted country and as daylight advanced entered a broad, sandy plain with tufts of camel-thorn here and there, the celebrated Plain of Issus : stretching away to the East. It is the scene of one of the most wonderful battles in history, and was particularly interesting to me, for I had struggled through the accounts of this very battle with many a tear in Quintus Curtius at the age of eight, and had never forgotten the astounding fact that the Persians, under Darius, lost not only 100,000 foot, 10,000 horse, and 40,000 or 50,000 prisoners, but that king's mother, wife, and his son, whilst Alexander the Great had only some 200 killed and 400 wounded.

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CROSSING THE RIVER GIHUN

However whether true or not as to details here was the field of this battle before my eyes, and I tried to picture to my mind the retreating Macedonians and the pursuing Persian hordes, until the former turned and stood at bay and then, by Alexander's wonderful generalship, destroyed this vast host.

After the plain our route lay through more fertile country, crossing several streams, some with difficulty, then through the Gates of Amani, a narrow pass by the sea-shore, and so through more deserted land to the banks of the great River Gihun, the celebrated Pyramus. This river we crossed in a ferry-boat, the steep, sandy banks making it by no means easy to embark our horses. But these intelligent animals, after we dismounted, knew exactly what to do, and approaching the crumbling edge of the bank, sat down on their tails like dogs, and let their fore-feet slide down into the boat, when, with a clever hitch up behind, they brought their hind legs over the gunwale. Across the river much the same kind of country met us, except that here were abundant evidences of game ; gazelle, deer (larger than I have ever seen anywhere in the world), boar, pheasants, bustards, and wild fowl, with storks, cranes, and herons in hundreds. Our guide also spoke of leopards, bears, and large wolf-packs up in the hills in winter.

It was nearly dark when we found ourselves entering the oasis of gardens which surrounds Adana, and it was night before we began to thread our way through the net-work of narrow and deserted lanes and bazaars which led to the house where we were to lodge. It was a wonder how the guide found his way, every street looking exactly alike ; almost every house precisely the same, with low, white walls and no windows. Nor could we understand why he finally selected a particular door to thump at for admission, there being no sign to distinguish it from all

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the others. However, he had apparently struck the right house, for he began a parley with a man who, however, did not seem anxious to receive us. But at last, after a great deal of talk - of which I could not catch a single word - he seemed to be over-persuaded by a shrill-voiced female, who stood behind him invisible to us, and our guide then told us it was all right, and that we could put up here for the night. It did not look promising, but there was no help for it, so we dismounted, the guide at once leading away the horses, presumably to some stable, and promising to return in a few minutes. Then the door opened wide, and we were confronted by a nondescript Levantine and his still more nondescript wife the man with the face of a born rogue, with sunken eyes and a thin nose, the woman, a head taller than her husband, lean, very dirty and dark-skinned, but of striking appearance both having apparently just risen from a pile of frowsy rugs which lay on a divan in one corner of the ill-lighted room. Instinctively, both Neville and I thought of declining their hospitality, but there was nothing else for it, so we decided to make the best of it. The man who could not speak anything but Greek made signs to us to enter, and the woman emphasised the invitation by shaking up the rugs and blankets on the divan, which emitted an uninviting smell as she did so. Then, catching up some discarded garments of her own, she departed through a small door opening into a room a few feet above closing and bolting it behind her. The man then motioned us towards the divan, putting his hands up under his ear and pantomiming sleep. We did not greedily avail ourselves of his offer, which, however, seemed neither to surprise nor offend him, for without paying any more attention to us, he stepped out into the pitchy-black lane, drawing the door after him, when, for a minute or so, we could hear the echo of his footfall as he stumbled over the rough paving-

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stones, and the whine of the prowling street dogs as he kicked them out of his way. Then all was as silent as the grave.

Though not in the least alarmed, we both thought his conduct suspicious, for we knew very little about our guide's character or respectability, and nothing at all about our host's, who was by no means a person to inspire confidence. So we thought we would go into the street and wait his return : but when we tried to open the door we found it was locked outside. This was still more suspicious, for here were we, alone in this notoriously lawless town, prisoners in a low kind of den in the midst of a bewildering maze of lanes, our horses taken away, our guide gone, and ourselves not able to talk a word of Greek.

But we could do nothing, unless it were to rouse out the woman ; so with what philosophy we could command, and our revolvers handy, we sat down on the divan to wait developments. After about an hour's time we heard some one fumbling at the lock ; the sound of two or three voices reached our ears, and the door opened, when in came our host, accompanied by two villainous-looking Levantines. We had fondly hoped the man had gone out to buy food, but no, nothing of the sort, and what either he or his friends wanted I have never yet discovered. We made signs we wanted to eat, but he took no notice of them, sitting down on the floor looking at us, his friends sitting behind him. The position was awkward. There we sat staring at them, and there sat they staring at us, not a single word passing ; the only light a feeble oil-lamp, giving about as much light as an ordinary night-light. In a short time, however, both Neville and I began to lose our temper, seeing no point in these dirty ragamuffins further vitiating the already pestiferous atmosphere. So, after a brief parley between us, Neville got up, went to the door and opened

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it with his left hand, his revolver in his right, whilst I politely indicated by a wave of my hand that we required their presence no longer. The extra hands looked much astonished, but none the less got up and went out, leaving their host still squatting on the ground nervously chewing his moustache. Then Neville shifted the key inside, locked the door, and put it into his pocket. This manoeuvre seemed to disconcert our friend, for he soon after rose up off his heels, took up one of the blankets from the divan, slipped off his shoes, and went and rapped at the door through which the woman had gone, where, after making her understand that it was neither Neville nor myself who wished to intrude on her privacy, he disappeared, but affording us a glimpse of his wife as she stood in the doorway, her dishevelled hair hanging over her thin, bare shoulders, her fierce, hawk-like eyes peering down at us under the light of her candle a ghastly wreck of a once beautiful woman.

Left to ourselves, we now discussed the situation. The house-door was, of course, open to us, but we saw no advantage in going out into the street, where we must have lost our way in two minutes, and we had not the least idea where were our guide and the horses. So satisfying ourselves that the street door was secure by pulling a large bolt we found on it, we took one or two of the least evil-smelling of the blankets, made cushions of them, and placing them against the door leading upstairs, sat down with our backs against it, making it impossible for any one to come into our room without our knowing it. We took it in turns to sleep, and being very tired had some difficulty in keeping awake when our spell of watch came on. At cockcrow we were disturbed by a loud thumping on the street door, which we opened, to find it was our guide, with a boy leading our horses. We remonstrated with him for having left us without food,

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whereat he affected both grief and surprise, and swore his friend had promised to attend to our wants. I told him we had had nothing offered us, when in simulated wrath he began a vehement attack on the inner door. In a few minutes the woman appeared, having huddled on an apology for a skirt over her night garb, and in a little time produced some dry bread and a jar of milk. Having devoured this very unsatisfying breakfast and given the woman two English shillings, we mounted our horses, and after scrambling over a pavement as rough as a reef, we found ourselves once more in pure country air.

Oar guide now began to excuse himself for his absence during the night, saying that his mother, who lived in Adana, was very ill, and he had, as a dutiful son, gone to visit his parent. As to his friend, our late host, he was a birbone, and so forth, statements we were quite prepared to endorse. "Would we lodge elsewhere on our way back ? at his mother's, peradventure, where his sister, who had been chambermaid in a hotel in Smyrna and knew the wants of Signori viaggiatori, would look after us?"

We said we would see about it. I believe he and his friend were about as arrant rascals as you could wish to meet, and I have no doubt they would have robbed us, if not worse, had we been unarmed.

Our road now lay over a fertile but sparsely populated plain, and we reached Tarsus without any further adventures. Unfortunately, we could only remain there two or three hours, just long enough to rest our horses and for ourselves to look about a little and to bathe in the River Cydnus, as we were pressed for time to be back to our leave. There is scarcely a vestige of its departed glory to be seen in Tarsus, and beyond a raised platform, some three hundred feet long, on which is said to have stood the palace and the harem of Sardanapalus,

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nothing to recall its marvellous past. It is difficult to picture to one's mind, standing in its narrow, filthy streets, what this city must have been when that world-renowned voluptuary - who founded it eight hundred years before Christ - held revel in its palaces, himself clothed as a woman, surrounded by a crowd of concubines whose numbers even Solomon might have envied, recruited from every corner of the then known earth. From this very platform, too, was he driven by his rebellious captains to perish in the flames of his still vaster palace - at Ninus - together with hundreds of these same women, with his eunuchs, his boy-musicians, and with millions of treasure and jewels. Here, too, in these very waters of the Cydnus Alexander the Great nearly lost his life from their extreme chilliness, and it was, indeed, to test their coldness that we bathed in it, and were not surprised that the great Macedonian caught cold, or that Frederic Barbarossa died after bathing in it. Other events of historic importance have also taken place on this bluest of rivers, one which, though but the meeting of a man and woman, altered the destiny of the world. For here Antony and Cleopatra came together.

But last, though most important of all, a man was born in this city of Tarsus, whose influence has been felt from one Pole to the other by millions upon millions of the dead and living, and will continue to be by innumerable millions yet to come ; not in this life and this world alone, but to all eternity : St. Paul the Apostle.

So we left Tarsus, I, for one, decidedly thinking that I had been well repaid all my risk and trouble.

* * * * *

It speaks well for Neville's endurance and my own, that in addition to rambling about for a couple of hours to examine the walls built by Haroun al-Baschid, and the Castle of Bayazid, together with the aforesaid platform

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of the Palace of Sardanapalus, we rode certainly fifty miles that day before we were back in Adana, and that on the very scantiest food, and on excruciatingly uncomfortable saddles.

On our way we passed through a field where a peasant had just unearthed a number of beautiful little terra-cotta Greek statuettes, only a few inches high, and one or two curious terra-cotta masks. Also amongst these things was a small lamp, covered with a black glaze, which I bought for a piastre or two, not knowing, until years after, that I had stumbled on a curiosity at that time, unique. For no example of this particular glaze had ever been found before, pointing to an art which was probably already lost at the time of Sardanapalus. Since then specimens have been found in other parts of Asia Minor and in the Ægean, so my lamp, which I still possess, is no longer of the value it was then.

It was nightfall before we reached Adana, but, this time, we insisted on our guide finding us quarters less suspicious than his friend's, and something better than as we supposed would be his mother's. He seemed much hurt, and dilated largely on his mother's cooking, who, he said, we should now find quite recovered. But, as we resisted even these inducements, he took us to a fairly large house near a curious Persian mosque, which had an octagonal minaret but no dome, and was built of alternate courses of black and white stones, like Siena Cathedral. The owner of the house, a Greek acting as British Consular Agent was much surprised at our travelling without a Turkish guard, an exceedingly rash proceeding according to him, and did his best to make us welcome. He at once gave us some most welcome food and a bottle of sweet and potent Cyprus wine, and made us very comfortable for the night. He spoke some Italian, was well informed about everything

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connected with Adăna and Tarsus, and was very angry with our guide for not having brought us to him the night before. Of attractive manners, stooping figure, and a face of classic type, he claimed to be able to trace an unbroken pedigree from Philip of Macedon. His opinion of the modern Greek was very low, there being, he declared, scarcely a true Greek in all Greece nowadays, the present race merely degenerate Bulgars and other Slavs.

His wife was dead, but he had a beautiful little boy and a small girl, who woke up on our arrival and went scampering about in their night-shirts ; both, after the manner of Levantines, chattering in two or three languages. In the morning, when we departed, he insisted on giving us food for the road and another bottle of wine : with a delicate flavour. He called it Commanderie, and said it came from grapes planted in Cyprus in the days of Guy de Lusignan. He warned us against our guide, whom he instinctively knew must be a rascal, and also said that there were bands of Kurds about who it would be well to avoid.

Leaving Adăna we pushed on rapidly hoping to reach the Gihun before dark; but when we got to the river there was no ferry and no ferry-man. To cross the stream - two or three hundred yards wide and running five knots - was impossible on horseback, so we were compelled to wait whilst the guide went to try and find him. He was away nearly an hour ; night had come on, and we began to wonder if he had left us in the lurch. We had almost decided to return to Adăna, when he reappeared and informed us that the ferry-boat was two miles lower down : that the ferry-man was away, and that we must ferry ourselves across. A long and difficult two miles it was, forcing our way through reeds head-high and floundering in swamps, in places up to our stirrup-irons.

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However, we found the boat in due time and with some difficulty got across the stream and clambered up the other side. Our guide's conduct again excited our suspicion, for he insisted on turning down river instead of ascending it again, which we both thought must be the way to strike the caravan track over which we had ridden the day before. So persuaded were we of this that we declined to follow his suggestion, and turning our horses' heads up stream, rode diagonally across the plain in the direction we knew the road must lie, keeping our bearings by a star, and at once losing sight of our guide. In a short time we found this track exactly where we expected it, and, turning to the southward, rode on toward Ayas Bay. Towards midnight, hearing loud barking of dogs, we thought we must be approaching a Turkoman or Kurd encampment, and pulled up, not knowing whether it were safest to advance or retire. But as the dogs began barking more furiously than ever, there was no alternative but to ride forward and trust to Providence. In a few yards we found ourselves dipping down into a hollow, at the bottom of which we saw a number of fires twinkling, and in a minute or two after, in a big encampment of Turkomans, with camels, goats, sheep, and horses in great numbers on all sides. At once we were surrounded by a horde of gesticulating and wondering men, whilst dozens of dogs snarled and growled round our horses' feet. But affecting entire unconcern, Neville and I rode straight on to what we thought looked like the biggest Kibitka, and reaching it, jumped off our horses and went straight in as one side of these large black tents is always open where we saw ten or fifteen men sitting and lying about. A tall, grey man, with a curious sheepskin hat and a loose Kurd dressing-gown garment fastened by a cord round his waist, now rose up and stared stonily at us. An inspiration

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led me to trust them entirely, and, whilst all these wild-looking creatures watched my hands, I undid the buckle of my revolver belt and let it fall to the ground behind me. The Sheik as he evidently was for a moment looked astonished, but quickly recovering his Oriental sang-froid - with a pleasant smile and a dignified bow - touched his heart, then his breast, and then his feet, the Moslem salute, saying - as he rose - "Salaam Aleikoum," to which I knew enough Arabic to reply, " Aleikoum Salaam." We were under his protection, and safer than in Scotland Yard. They then made room for us on the cushions, produced koumis and dried bread, and after giving us nargilehs and coffee, they prepared us a pile of mats and skins on which to sleep. Meanwhile our horses were taken away and fed. I cannot, however, say we slept very sound for we were besieged by thousands of fleas and other insects, apparently revelling in the taste of our unaccustomed flesh.

With the first glimmer of light we were all afoot ; but now came an anxious moment : Did they intend to let us go unransomed, or might they be disposed to take possession of our horses ? Of course it was impossible to discover what they meant to do, so we waited with some anxiety to see, well knowing that the law of Eastern hospitality and protection ceases immediately you leave a man's premises. But we need not have felt alarm ; the Sheik, after making a friendly salaam, pointed to a pot on the fire in which pieces of mutton were bobbing about in a thick soup of milk and fat, and then, by gesture, invited us to eat. The food was excellent, or seemed so to us, and whilst thus engaged our horses were brought up, and a young man, dark as ebony, but remarkably well made, stood at the side of a third animal, a wiry, shaggy-haired thing of some Asian breed. Our host then pointed to the sun, which was just rising,

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and then to the westward, dropping his hand suddenly, and then again to the south, a pantomime by which we knew he meant we had better push on before another night set in. We accordingly mounted, but with doubts in our minds as to whether to offer payment or not for our night's lodging. But there was something in the dignity of this nineteenth-century Abraham that made me hold my hand. So I took out my card and drew on the back of it a small outline of the Malacca. Directly he saw it his manner changed ; he knew at once who and what we were, and from mere courtesy his manner changed to one of extreme deference. He salaamed till I thought his back would break, whilst the news apparently spreading as to what exalted persons we were, a small crowd, including numbers of women, flocked round us. I made the Sheik understand as best I could, also by pantomime, how glad we should be to see him on board, and with a hearty shake of the hand we rode off, followed by the young man on the horse. At first I wished to save the man the trouble of coming with us, feeling sure I could find the way, but Neville, with a far better gift for topography than myself, declared he did not now recognise anything we had passed on our way up. Soon I saw he was right, for we got into hilly country, quite strange to us, and should only have found Ayas Bay by chance had we been alone. For it turned out that in the night we had missed the broad Caravan Route, crossing it at right angles without being aware of it, and were on a road which leads past a place called Missi, and comes down on the head of the Gulf of Scanderoon. However, we were rewarded in this detour, not only by our experience of a night in a Turkoman camp, but by the magnificent views we obtained on the high ground of the Taurus Range. In front of us were the great Amani mountains, their

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GULF OF SCANDEROON

snow-capped peaks an exquisite silvery grey against the pink morning sky, the immense plains extending from Adăna and Tarsus far away to the north-west, the indented coasts of Cilicia on one hand, and on the other the great Gulf of Scanderoon, blue as an amethyst, with the curiously jagged crests of the Pylae Cilicise - where the Beilan Pass separates Alexandretta from Seleucia and Antioch - to the south : whilst, turning to the Mediterranean, far away on the horizon the faint outlines of the mountains of Cyprus, topped by snow-clad Olympus, looked like a floating dream, as befitted an island which gave birth to Aphrodite, that goddess whose cult begun long before Eden will outlive the Last Trumpet.

About midday we discerned our Ship, a mere speck on the shining gulf with many miles of rough country intervening. We had made good progress ; our astonishing animals keeping up a brisk canter for hours, far less fatigued than we ourselves. We halted for an hour amongst the prostrate and highly ornate columns of a Greek temple and ate our food. Here a small spotted deer jumped out from amongst the ruins and bounded away, and a magnificent eagle, a mere spot in the sky at first, swooped down to examine our party.

We would willingly have loitered longer, but we still had to cross several mountain streams, some with considerable difficulty, and also to wade knee deep an arm of the Gihun which debouches near Ayas Bay. Towards evening we reached Ayas, where our guide, after accepting a couple of dollars, took leave of us somewhat hastily, turning his horse's head and riding off at once, with every desire as it seemed to us to put space between himself and the villainous inhabitants of the Castle. To the head man of this gang we handed our horses, and, after much wrangling, succeeded in settling payment. But for the presence of our ship, which

217

WONDERS OF THE BEILAN PASS

rendered it dangerous for them to resort to evil practices, there is no doubt they would have detained us as captives. It struck us also as curious that they made no inquiries as to the guide, though possibly they were less surprised at his absence than at our return. For we learnt from our Maltese steward - after getting on board - that there had been considerable uncertainty expressed by some of the local inhabitants whether we should turn up until a ransom had been paid, as our guide was notorious as being a jackal for professional brigands. It is more than probable that his object in endeavouring to mislead us after crossing the Gihun was to take us into a trap where his accomplices were secreted.

* * * * *

My next trip in Cilicia was to Antioch, whither I went with Captain Napier and one of our lieutenants. On this occasion we were far better equipped, starting from Alexandretta on excellent horses with good European saddles, a Consular cavass, and a guard of Turkish soldiers. The road to Antioch - a continuation of that great coast track over which so many of the world's great Generals have marched to victory or retreated in defeat - rises rapidly behind Alexandretta, crossing the Beilan Pass. A wonderful piece of scenery, with gorges of immense depth and of only a few feet span, precipices on all sides, waterfalls and forest, every coign of vantage crowned by ancient and ruined forts - dating back from the earliest ages - Assyrian, Persian, Greek, Koman, Crusader and Saracen - many of them even now, patched up and repaired, garrisoned by the bronzed soldiers of the Ottoman Empire. In many places this road has been cut through the solid rock by those greatest of road-makers, the Romans, whilst in others their daring architects have flung across profound chasms airy-looking bridges, which, to this day, afford the only

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ANTIOCH

means of reaching the plains, without making a detour of ten or fifteen miles. For miles and miles the Roman flag-stones are quite intact, indeed the plain, where now morasses extend for miles, would be impassable in winter but for this causeway. The view from the summit of the Beilan Pass is extremely grand, the mountains of the Lebanon and the Ante-Lebanon seem here to melt into one, whilst with serpentine curves on a plain of intensely vivid green, rolls the River Orontes fed by the snows of Hermon ; the white glimmer of Antioch with its distant Port of Suedia - the ancient Seleucia - to be discerned at its mouth.

We passed large raised mounds of hundreds of acres of extent, the sites of pre-historic cities, whilst farther off, between Antioch and the sea, rose thick woods, the immortal Groves of Daphne.

It is difficult to enumerate the things of interest that crowd on one's memory in connection with Antioch, for, with the exception of Jerusalem, no place in Syria or Palestine can exceed them. Its splendour seems to shine down the classic ages, culminating - in mediaeval days - in the celebrated siege by the Crusaders led by Bohemon, which, as told by Gibbon, is nothing short of marvellous. The Christians, having captured the town, were themselves besieged by an army of Moslems, estimated at 600,000, who, however, were scattered by means not less miraculous than were the Syrian hosts of Sennacherib. For, through the finding of that Holy Lance which had pierced the side of the Redeemer and was carried before the famishing garrison in a desperate sortie, this vast concourse of Moslems was put to flight. It is quite immaterial that this lance-head was unmistakably a Saracen weapon, whilst that which wounded the sacred body of Jesus must have been Roman. Nor does it matter that it was known to all concerned that a Marseilles

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THE HOLY LANCE

priest, Pierre Bartolemie, had hidden it before receiving a revelation from St. Andrew the Apostle as to its whereabouts. In the inscrutable ways of Providence this well-planned fraud wrote the history of the year 1098, with all its far-reaching consequences both to Moslem and Christian.

We reached Antioch in the late afternoon, and were taken to the house of a leading Mohammedan, who entertained us to the best of his ability. During our stay we visited all that was worth seeing or that Murray could point out, clambering, not without risk, the zig-zag road which follows the ancient lines of the Roman and Saracen fortifications, still intact in many places in spite of innumerable sieges and earthquakes. These fortifications are themselves a stupendous record of Roman power, being nearly twelve miles in circumference, built, in places, where every stone had to be lowered from above, the builders slung in ropes over abysses a thousand feet deep. Below us, now shrunk to a tenth of its original size, lay the city, many of its gates still to be traced and one or two still standing. On an island in the Orontes Diocletian had built a palace not inferior to that of the Cæsars in Rome ; whilst colonnades and covered ways intersected the town in every direction, which was farther adorned by theatres, baths, hippodromes, all on a scale of unsurpassed magnificence. Its population at one time may be estimated by the fact that in one single earthquake 250,000 people perished. However it is impossible in these pages to do more than glance at this world-famous city and its history. Suffice it to say that like Jerusalem, Palmyra, Carthage, Athens and Rome, the impression it conveys is entirely beyond portrayal. It is something to feel inwardly and ponder over.

The road I have described as following the line of

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ALEXANDRETTA

fortifications was extremely dangerous, in many parts a mere ledge on the side of a cliff, scarcely wide enough to afford foothold for our horses. In one or two places we had to dismount, crawling round corners where the road had fallen, our animals following us. But even these sure-footed creatures meet with accidents on this perilous passage, for a few days before we were there one of them, carrying his rider, who, if I remember right, was a British Consular Agent, missed his footing, man and horse falling some six hundred feet, and being dashed to unrecognisable pulp at the bottom.

We returned to Alexandretta on the third day, with no adventures worse than one of our party being stuck in a bog, he having unwisely got off the Roman causeway to ride across a tempting piece of grass. With great difficulty the dragoman and the guard got him on terra firma, but the horse was left, sunk over his middle. He was, however, rescued on the following day, when help was obtained with ropes and planks.

There was a fair amount of sport to be had in the Gulf of Scanderoon, the game, such as I have already mentioned, with duck and other wild fowl. A propos of duck, when at anchor in Alexandretta we witnessed a flight of these birds, whose numbers could only have been counted by millions. We first noticed a black cloud to the north which gradually rose higher and higher above the land across the gulf, advancing in the form of a gigantic wedge and sweeping southwards with a rushing sound, like wind in a forest. At last it was almost overhead, casting a broad shadow on sea and land, the whole mass in motion, and we saw that it was a thick cloud of moving feathers, which, seen end on, seemed one compact whole. But, as it swept over us, we saw that each individual bird had room for its wings, though no more. We calculated that the base of the triangle must have been a mile wide,

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VAST FLIGHT OF WILD-DUCK

whilst the sides of it may have been two or three, judging by the time it took to pass over. The marvel of it was how these birds sustained their lengthy flight, but looking with our telescopes we partly understood it. For it was evident that those leading the flight at the apex of the wedge only retained this position for a very short time, drifting away to the right and left of the advancing millions, slipping back past the outer sides of the triangle until, reaching its base, they found themselves, not only completely rested by having flown quietly, but, being caught in the strong back draught of air lying in the wake of the mass, were nolens volens swept into the vortex and carried on. Thus the entire flock was continually changing places, the outer birds flying slower, the inner ones flying up, until - once more reaching the front - the supreme effort was made for a short time, but again to slip back and make room for others. I have often seen large flights of wild duck - notably in China and Japan - flying in great spiral curves and rarely more than two or three abreast, but these I saw in the Gulf of Scanderoon were flying as I have described them, and it struck me that if they had adopted the spiral formation the length of the column would have measured so many miles that the rear birds would have been too far behind to reach the alighting place before night with the others.

Truly a mystery of instinct, this great evolution, known to all these myriad birds, carried out with accuracy and precision, no jostling, no giving of orders, on, on, on, in never ending flight, from the frozen Tundras of the Yenisei or the Lena, to the Equatorial Lakes of Africa.

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