Volume Two--Chapter Eight.On the ensuing day, the pacha was sitting at his divan, according to his custom, Mustapha by his side, lending his ear to the whispers of divers people who came to him in an attitude of profound respect. Still they were most graciously received, as the purport of their intrusion was to induce the vizier to interest himself in their behalves when their cause came forward to be heard and decided upon by the pacha, who in all cases was guided by the whispered opinion of Mustapha. Mustapha was a good-hearted man: he was always grateful, and if any one did him a good turn he never forgot it. The consequence was, that an intimation that a purse of so many sequins would be laid at his feet if the cause to be heard was decided in favour of the applicant, invariably interested Mustapha in the favour of that party; and Mustapha’s opinion was always coincided in by the pacha, because he had (or supposed that he had) half of the sequins so obtained. True, the proverb says, “you should be just before you are generous;” but Mustapha’s arguments when he first proposed to the pacha this method of filling the royal treasury, were so excellent, that we shall hand them down to posterity. “In the first place,” said Mustapha, “it is evident that in all these causes the plaintiffs and defendants are both rascals. In the second place, it is impossible to believe a word on either side. In the third place, exercising the best of your judgment, you are just as likely to go wrong as right. In the fourth place, if a man happens to be wronged by our decision, he deserves it as a punishment for his other misdeeds. In the fifth place, as the only respectability existing in either party consists in their worldly wealth, by deciding for him who gives most, you decide for the most respectable man. In the sixth place, it is our duty to be grateful for good done to us, and in so deciding, we exercise a virtue strongly inculcated by the Koran. In the seventh place, we benefit both parties by deciding quickly, as a loss is better than a law-suit. And in the eighth and last place, we want money.”On this day a cause was being heard; and, although weighty reasons had already decided the verdict, still,pro formâ, the witnesses on both sides were examined; one of these, upon being asked whether he witnessed the proceedings, replied, “That he had no doubt, but there was doubt on the subject; but that he doubted whether the doubts were correct.”“Doubt—no doubt—what is all this? do you laugh at our beards?” said Mustapha sternly, who always made a show of justice. “Is it the fact or not?”“Your highness, I seldom met a fact, as it is called, without having half a dozen doubts hanging to it,” replied the man: “I will not, therefore, make any assertion without the reservation of a doubt.”“Answer me plainly,” replied the vizier, “or the ferashes and bamboo will be busy with you very shortly. Did you see the money paid?”“I believe as much as I can believe any thing in this world, that I did see money paid; but I doubt the sum, and I doubt the metal, and I have also my other doubts. May it please your highness, I am an unfortunate man, I have been under the influence of doubts from my birth; and it has become a disease which I have no doubt will only end with my existence. I always doubt a fact, unless—”“What does the ass say? What is all this but bosh?—nothing. Let him have a fact.”The pacha gave the sign—the ferashes appeared—the man was thrown, and received fifty blows of the bastinado. The pacha then commanded them to desist. “Now, by our beard, is it not a fact that you have received the bastinado? If you still doubt the fact, we will proceed.”“The fact is beyond a doubt,” replied the man, prostrating himself. “But excuse me, your sublime highness, if I do continue to assert that I cannot always acknowledge a fact, without such undeniable proofs as your wisdom has been pleased to bring forward. If your highness were to hear the history of my life, you would then allow that I have cause to doubt.”“History of his life! Mustapha, we shall have a story.”“Another fifty blows on his feet would remove all his doubts, your highness,” replied Mustapha.“Yes; but then he will be beaten out of his story. No, no; let him he taken away till the evening, and then we shall see how he will make out his case.”Mustapha gave directions, in obedience to the wish of the pacha. In the evening, as soon as they had lighted their pipes, the man was ordered in; and, in consideration of his swelled feet, was permitted to sit down, that he might be more at ease when he narrated his story, which was as follows:—The Story of Hudusi.Most sublime pacha, allow me first to observe, that, although I have latterly adhered to my own opinions, I am not so intolerant as not to permit the same licence to others: I do not mean to say that there are not such things as facts in this world, nor to find fault with those who believe in them. I am told that there are also such things as flying dragons, griffins, and other wondrous animals, but surely it is quite sufficient for me, or any one else, to believe that these animals exist, when it may have been our fortune to see them; in the same manner, I am willing to believe in a fact, when it is cleared from the mists of doubt; but up to the present, I can safely say, that I seldom have fallen in with a fact, unaccompanied bydoubts, and every year adds to my belief, that there are few genuine facts in existence. So interwoven in my frame is doubt, that I sometimes am unwilling to admit, as a fact, that I exist. I believe it to be the case, but I feel that I have no right to assert it, until I know what death is, and may from thence draw an inference, which may lead me to a just conclusion.My name is Hudusi. Of my parents I can say little. My father asserted that he was the bravest janissary in the sultan’s employ, and had greatly distinguished himself. He was always talking of Rustam, as being a fool compared to him; of the number of battles he had fought, and of the wounds which he had received in leading his corps on all desperate occasions; but as my father often bathed before me, and the only wound I could ever perceive was one in his rear, when he spoke of his bravery, Ivery much doubted the fact.My mother fondled and made much of me, declared that I was the image of my father, a sweet pledge of their affections, a blessing sent by Heaven upon their marriage; but, as my father’s nose was aquiline, and mine is a snub, or aquiline reversed; his mouth large, and mine small; his eyes red and ferrety, and mine projecting; and, moreover, as she was a very handsome woman, and used to pay frequent visits to the cave of a sainted man in high repute, of whom I was the image, when she talked of the janissary’s paternity, Ivery much doubted the fact.An old mollah taught me to read and write and repeat the verses of the Koran—and I was as much advanced as any boy under his charge—but he disliked me very much for reasons which I never could understand, and was eternally giving me the slipper. He declared that I was a reprobate, an unbeliever, a son of Jehanum, who would be impaled before I was much older; but here I am, without a stake through my body at the age of forty-five; and your highness must acknowledge that when he railed all this in my ears, I was justified invery much doubting the fact.When I was grown up, my father wanted me to enrol myself in the corps of janissaries, and become a lion-killer like himself; I remonstrated, but in vain; he applied, and I was accepted, and received the mark on my arm, which constituted me a janissary. I put on the dress, swaggered and bullied with many other young men of my acquaintance, who were all ready, as they swore, to eat their enemies alive, and who curled their moustachios to prove the truth of what they said. We were despatched to quell a rebellious pacha—we bore down upon his troops with a shout, enough to frighten the devil, but the devil a bit were they frightened, they stood their ground; and as they would not run, we did, leaving those who were not so wise, to be cut to pieces. After this, when any of my companions talked of their bravery, or my father declared that he should be soon promoted to the rank of a spahi, and that I was a lion’s whelp, Ivery much doubted the fact.The pacha held out much longer than was at first anticipated: indeed, so long as to cause no little degree of anxiety in the capital. More troops were despatched to subdue him; and success not attending our efforts, the vizier, according to the custom, was under the disagreeable necessity of parting with his head, which was demanded because we turned tail. Indeed, it was to oblige us, that the sultan consented to deprive himself of the services of a very able man; for we surrounded the palace, and insisted that it was all his fault; but, considering our behaviour in the field of battle, your highness must admit that there was reason todoubt the fact.We were again despatched against this rebellious pacha, who sate upon the parapets of his strong-hold, paying down thirty sequins for the head of every janissary brought to him by his own troops, and I am afraid a great deal of money was spent in that way. We fell into an ambuscade, and one half of the corps to which my father belonged were cut to pieces, before we could receive any assistance. At last the enemy retired. I looked for my father, and found him expiring; as before, he had received a wound on the wrong side, a spear having transfixed him between the shoulders. “Tell how I died like a brave man,” said he, “and tell your mother that I am gone to Paradise.” From an intimate knowledge of my honoured father’s character, in the qualities of thief, liar, and coward, although I promised to deliver the message,I very much doubted these facts.That your highness may understand how it was that I happened to be left alone, and alive on the field of battle, I must inform you, that I inherited a considerable portion of my father’s courageous temper, and not much liking the snapping of the pistols in my face, I had thrown myself down on the ground, and had remained there very quietly preferring to be trampled on, rather than interfere with what was going on above.“By the sword of the Prophet! there is one fact—you were a very great coward,” observed the pacha.“Among my other doubts, your highness, I certainly have some doubts as to my bravery.”“By the beard of the pacha, I have no doubts on the subject,” observed Mustapha.“Without attempting to defend my courage, may I observe to your highness, that it was a matter of perfect indifference to me whether the sultan or the pacha was victorious; and I did not much admire hard blows, without having an opportunity of putting a few sequins in my pocket. I never knew of any man, however brave he might be, who fought for love of fighting, or amusement; we all are trying in this world to get money; and that is, I believe, the secret spring of all our actions?”“Is that true, Mustapha?” inquired the pacha.“May it please your sublime highness, if not the truth, it is not very far from it. Proceed Hudusi.”The ideas which I have ventured to express before your sublime highness, were running in my mind, as I sat down among the dead and dying, and I thought how much better off were the pacha’s soldiers than those of our sublime sultan, who had nothing but hard blows, while the pacha’s soldiers received thirty sequins for the head of every one of our corps of janissaries; and one idea breeding another, I reflected that it would be very prudent, now that the pacha appeared to be gaining the advantage, to be on the right side. Having made up my mind upon this point, it then occurred to me, that I might as well get a few sequins by the exchange, and make my appearance before the pacha, with one or two of the heads of the janissaries, who were lying close to me. I therefore divested myself of whatever might give the idea of my belonging to the corps, took off the heads and rifled the pockets of three janissaries, and was about to depart, when I thought of my honoured father, and turned back to take a last farewell. It was cruel to part with a parent, and I could not make up my mind to part with him altogether, so I added his head, and the contents of his sash, to those of the other three, and smearing my face and person with blood, with my scimitar in my hand, and the four heads tied up in a bundle, made my way for the pacha’s stronghold; but the skirmishing was still going on outside of the walls, and I narrowly escaped a corps of janissaries, who would have recognised me. As it was, two of them followed me as I made for the gate of the fortress; and, encumbered as I was, I was forced to turn at bay. No man fights better than he who finds himself hard pressed; and even a man who otherwise would not fight at all, will fight well, when he can’t help it. I never was so brave in my life. I cut down one, and the other ran away, and this in the presence of the pacha, who was seated on the embrasure at the top of the wall; and thus I gained my entrance into the fort. I hastened to the pacha’s presence, and laid at his feet the four heads. The pacha was so pleased at my extraordinary valour, that he threw me a purse of five hundred pieces of gold, and ordered me to be promoted, asking me to what division of his troops I belonged. I replied, that I was a volunteer. I was made an officer; and thus did I find myself a rich man and a man of consequence by merely changing sides.“That’s not quite so uncommon a method of getting on in the world as you may imagine,” observed Mustapha, drily.“Mustapha,” said the pacha, almost gasping, “all these are words, wind—bosh. By the fountains that play round the throne of Mahomet, but my throat feels as hot and as dry with this fellow’s doubts, as if it were paved with live cinders. I doubt whether we shall be able ever to moisten it again.”“That doubt your sublimity ought to resolve immediately. Hudusi, Murakhas—my friend, you are dismissed.”Hardly had the doubter gathered up his slippers, and backed out from the presence, when the pacha and his minister were, with an honest rivalry, endeavouring to remove at once their doubts and their thirst; and were so successful in their attempts, that they, in a short time, exchanged their state of dubiety into a very happy one of ebriety.End of the Second Volume.
On the ensuing day, the pacha was sitting at his divan, according to his custom, Mustapha by his side, lending his ear to the whispers of divers people who came to him in an attitude of profound respect. Still they were most graciously received, as the purport of their intrusion was to induce the vizier to interest himself in their behalves when their cause came forward to be heard and decided upon by the pacha, who in all cases was guided by the whispered opinion of Mustapha. Mustapha was a good-hearted man: he was always grateful, and if any one did him a good turn he never forgot it. The consequence was, that an intimation that a purse of so many sequins would be laid at his feet if the cause to be heard was decided in favour of the applicant, invariably interested Mustapha in the favour of that party; and Mustapha’s opinion was always coincided in by the pacha, because he had (or supposed that he had) half of the sequins so obtained. True, the proverb says, “you should be just before you are generous;” but Mustapha’s arguments when he first proposed to the pacha this method of filling the royal treasury, were so excellent, that we shall hand them down to posterity. “In the first place,” said Mustapha, “it is evident that in all these causes the plaintiffs and defendants are both rascals. In the second place, it is impossible to believe a word on either side. In the third place, exercising the best of your judgment, you are just as likely to go wrong as right. In the fourth place, if a man happens to be wronged by our decision, he deserves it as a punishment for his other misdeeds. In the fifth place, as the only respectability existing in either party consists in their worldly wealth, by deciding for him who gives most, you decide for the most respectable man. In the sixth place, it is our duty to be grateful for good done to us, and in so deciding, we exercise a virtue strongly inculcated by the Koran. In the seventh place, we benefit both parties by deciding quickly, as a loss is better than a law-suit. And in the eighth and last place, we want money.”
On this day a cause was being heard; and, although weighty reasons had already decided the verdict, still,pro formâ, the witnesses on both sides were examined; one of these, upon being asked whether he witnessed the proceedings, replied, “That he had no doubt, but there was doubt on the subject; but that he doubted whether the doubts were correct.”
“Doubt—no doubt—what is all this? do you laugh at our beards?” said Mustapha sternly, who always made a show of justice. “Is it the fact or not?”
“Your highness, I seldom met a fact, as it is called, without having half a dozen doubts hanging to it,” replied the man: “I will not, therefore, make any assertion without the reservation of a doubt.”
“Answer me plainly,” replied the vizier, “or the ferashes and bamboo will be busy with you very shortly. Did you see the money paid?”
“I believe as much as I can believe any thing in this world, that I did see money paid; but I doubt the sum, and I doubt the metal, and I have also my other doubts. May it please your highness, I am an unfortunate man, I have been under the influence of doubts from my birth; and it has become a disease which I have no doubt will only end with my existence. I always doubt a fact, unless—”
“What does the ass say? What is all this but bosh?—nothing. Let him have a fact.”
The pacha gave the sign—the ferashes appeared—the man was thrown, and received fifty blows of the bastinado. The pacha then commanded them to desist. “Now, by our beard, is it not a fact that you have received the bastinado? If you still doubt the fact, we will proceed.”
“The fact is beyond a doubt,” replied the man, prostrating himself. “But excuse me, your sublime highness, if I do continue to assert that I cannot always acknowledge a fact, without such undeniable proofs as your wisdom has been pleased to bring forward. If your highness were to hear the history of my life, you would then allow that I have cause to doubt.”
“History of his life! Mustapha, we shall have a story.”
“Another fifty blows on his feet would remove all his doubts, your highness,” replied Mustapha.
“Yes; but then he will be beaten out of his story. No, no; let him he taken away till the evening, and then we shall see how he will make out his case.”
Mustapha gave directions, in obedience to the wish of the pacha. In the evening, as soon as they had lighted their pipes, the man was ordered in; and, in consideration of his swelled feet, was permitted to sit down, that he might be more at ease when he narrated his story, which was as follows:—
Most sublime pacha, allow me first to observe, that, although I have latterly adhered to my own opinions, I am not so intolerant as not to permit the same licence to others: I do not mean to say that there are not such things as facts in this world, nor to find fault with those who believe in them. I am told that there are also such things as flying dragons, griffins, and other wondrous animals, but surely it is quite sufficient for me, or any one else, to believe that these animals exist, when it may have been our fortune to see them; in the same manner, I am willing to believe in a fact, when it is cleared from the mists of doubt; but up to the present, I can safely say, that I seldom have fallen in with a fact, unaccompanied bydoubts, and every year adds to my belief, that there are few genuine facts in existence. So interwoven in my frame is doubt, that I sometimes am unwilling to admit, as a fact, that I exist. I believe it to be the case, but I feel that I have no right to assert it, until I know what death is, and may from thence draw an inference, which may lead me to a just conclusion.
My name is Hudusi. Of my parents I can say little. My father asserted that he was the bravest janissary in the sultan’s employ, and had greatly distinguished himself. He was always talking of Rustam, as being a fool compared to him; of the number of battles he had fought, and of the wounds which he had received in leading his corps on all desperate occasions; but as my father often bathed before me, and the only wound I could ever perceive was one in his rear, when he spoke of his bravery, Ivery much doubted the fact.
My mother fondled and made much of me, declared that I was the image of my father, a sweet pledge of their affections, a blessing sent by Heaven upon their marriage; but, as my father’s nose was aquiline, and mine is a snub, or aquiline reversed; his mouth large, and mine small; his eyes red and ferrety, and mine projecting; and, moreover, as she was a very handsome woman, and used to pay frequent visits to the cave of a sainted man in high repute, of whom I was the image, when she talked of the janissary’s paternity, Ivery much doubted the fact.
An old mollah taught me to read and write and repeat the verses of the Koran—and I was as much advanced as any boy under his charge—but he disliked me very much for reasons which I never could understand, and was eternally giving me the slipper. He declared that I was a reprobate, an unbeliever, a son of Jehanum, who would be impaled before I was much older; but here I am, without a stake through my body at the age of forty-five; and your highness must acknowledge that when he railed all this in my ears, I was justified invery much doubting the fact.
When I was grown up, my father wanted me to enrol myself in the corps of janissaries, and become a lion-killer like himself; I remonstrated, but in vain; he applied, and I was accepted, and received the mark on my arm, which constituted me a janissary. I put on the dress, swaggered and bullied with many other young men of my acquaintance, who were all ready, as they swore, to eat their enemies alive, and who curled their moustachios to prove the truth of what they said. We were despatched to quell a rebellious pacha—we bore down upon his troops with a shout, enough to frighten the devil, but the devil a bit were they frightened, they stood their ground; and as they would not run, we did, leaving those who were not so wise, to be cut to pieces. After this, when any of my companions talked of their bravery, or my father declared that he should be soon promoted to the rank of a spahi, and that I was a lion’s whelp, Ivery much doubted the fact.
The pacha held out much longer than was at first anticipated: indeed, so long as to cause no little degree of anxiety in the capital. More troops were despatched to subdue him; and success not attending our efforts, the vizier, according to the custom, was under the disagreeable necessity of parting with his head, which was demanded because we turned tail. Indeed, it was to oblige us, that the sultan consented to deprive himself of the services of a very able man; for we surrounded the palace, and insisted that it was all his fault; but, considering our behaviour in the field of battle, your highness must admit that there was reason todoubt the fact.
We were again despatched against this rebellious pacha, who sate upon the parapets of his strong-hold, paying down thirty sequins for the head of every janissary brought to him by his own troops, and I am afraid a great deal of money was spent in that way. We fell into an ambuscade, and one half of the corps to which my father belonged were cut to pieces, before we could receive any assistance. At last the enemy retired. I looked for my father, and found him expiring; as before, he had received a wound on the wrong side, a spear having transfixed him between the shoulders. “Tell how I died like a brave man,” said he, “and tell your mother that I am gone to Paradise.” From an intimate knowledge of my honoured father’s character, in the qualities of thief, liar, and coward, although I promised to deliver the message,I very much doubted these facts.
That your highness may understand how it was that I happened to be left alone, and alive on the field of battle, I must inform you, that I inherited a considerable portion of my father’s courageous temper, and not much liking the snapping of the pistols in my face, I had thrown myself down on the ground, and had remained there very quietly preferring to be trampled on, rather than interfere with what was going on above.
“By the sword of the Prophet! there is one fact—you were a very great coward,” observed the pacha.
“Among my other doubts, your highness, I certainly have some doubts as to my bravery.”
“By the beard of the pacha, I have no doubts on the subject,” observed Mustapha.
“Without attempting to defend my courage, may I observe to your highness, that it was a matter of perfect indifference to me whether the sultan or the pacha was victorious; and I did not much admire hard blows, without having an opportunity of putting a few sequins in my pocket. I never knew of any man, however brave he might be, who fought for love of fighting, or amusement; we all are trying in this world to get money; and that is, I believe, the secret spring of all our actions?”
“Is that true, Mustapha?” inquired the pacha.
“May it please your sublime highness, if not the truth, it is not very far from it. Proceed Hudusi.”
The ideas which I have ventured to express before your sublime highness, were running in my mind, as I sat down among the dead and dying, and I thought how much better off were the pacha’s soldiers than those of our sublime sultan, who had nothing but hard blows, while the pacha’s soldiers received thirty sequins for the head of every one of our corps of janissaries; and one idea breeding another, I reflected that it would be very prudent, now that the pacha appeared to be gaining the advantage, to be on the right side. Having made up my mind upon this point, it then occurred to me, that I might as well get a few sequins by the exchange, and make my appearance before the pacha, with one or two of the heads of the janissaries, who were lying close to me. I therefore divested myself of whatever might give the idea of my belonging to the corps, took off the heads and rifled the pockets of three janissaries, and was about to depart, when I thought of my honoured father, and turned back to take a last farewell. It was cruel to part with a parent, and I could not make up my mind to part with him altogether, so I added his head, and the contents of his sash, to those of the other three, and smearing my face and person with blood, with my scimitar in my hand, and the four heads tied up in a bundle, made my way for the pacha’s stronghold; but the skirmishing was still going on outside of the walls, and I narrowly escaped a corps of janissaries, who would have recognised me. As it was, two of them followed me as I made for the gate of the fortress; and, encumbered as I was, I was forced to turn at bay. No man fights better than he who finds himself hard pressed; and even a man who otherwise would not fight at all, will fight well, when he can’t help it. I never was so brave in my life. I cut down one, and the other ran away, and this in the presence of the pacha, who was seated on the embrasure at the top of the wall; and thus I gained my entrance into the fort. I hastened to the pacha’s presence, and laid at his feet the four heads. The pacha was so pleased at my extraordinary valour, that he threw me a purse of five hundred pieces of gold, and ordered me to be promoted, asking me to what division of his troops I belonged. I replied, that I was a volunteer. I was made an officer; and thus did I find myself a rich man and a man of consequence by merely changing sides.
“That’s not quite so uncommon a method of getting on in the world as you may imagine,” observed Mustapha, drily.
“Mustapha,” said the pacha, almost gasping, “all these are words, wind—bosh. By the fountains that play round the throne of Mahomet, but my throat feels as hot and as dry with this fellow’s doubts, as if it were paved with live cinders. I doubt whether we shall be able ever to moisten it again.”
“That doubt your sublimity ought to resolve immediately. Hudusi, Murakhas—my friend, you are dismissed.”
Hardly had the doubter gathered up his slippers, and backed out from the presence, when the pacha and his minister were, with an honest rivalry, endeavouring to remove at once their doubts and their thirst; and were so successful in their attempts, that they, in a short time, exchanged their state of dubiety into a very happy one of ebriety.
Volume Three--Chapter One.The next morning the pacha and his minister, after the business of the divan, with their heads aching from the doubts of Hudusi, or the means that they had taken to remove them, in not the best humour in the world listened to the continuation of them, as follows:—I have heard it observed, continued Hudusi, that the sudden possession of gold will make a brave man cautious, and he who is not brave, still more dastardly than he was before. It certainly was the case with me; my five hundred pieces of gold had such an effect, that every thing in the shape of valour oozed out at my fingers’ ends. I reflected again, and the result was, that I determined to have nothing more to do with the business, and that neither the sultan nor the pacha should be the better for my exertions. That night we made a sally; and as I was considered a prodigy of valour, I was one of those who were ordered to lead on my troop. I curled my moustachios, swore I would not leave a janissary alive, flourished my scimitar, marched out at the head of my troop, and then took to my heels, and in two days arrived safely at my mother’s house. As soon as I entered, I tore my turban, and threw dust upon my head, in honour of my father’s memory, and then sat down. My mother embraced me—we were alone.“And your father? Is it for him that we are to mourn?”“Yes,” replied I, “he was a lion, and he is in Paradise.”My mother commenced a bitter lamentation; but of a sudden recollecting herself, she said, “but, Hudusi, it’s no use tearing one’s hair and good clothes for nothing. Are you sure that your father is dead?”“Quite sure,” replied I. “I saw him down.”“But he may only be wounded,” replied my mother.“Not so, my dearest mother, abandon all hope, for I saw his head off.”“Are you sure it was his body that you saw with the head off?”“Quite sure, dear mother, for I was a witness to its being cut off.”“If that is the case,” replied my mother, “he can never come back again, that’s clear. Allah acbar—God is great. Then must we mourn.” And my mother ran out into the street before the door, shrieking and screaming, tearing her hair and her garments, so as to draw the attention and the sympathy of all her neighbours, who asked her what was the matter. “Ah! wahi, the head of my house is no more,” cried she, “my heart is all bitterness—my soul is dried up—my liver is but as water; ah! wahi, ah! wahi,” and she continued to weep and tear her hair, refusing all consolation. The neighbours came to her assistance; they talked to her, they reasoned with her, restrained her violence, and soothed her into quietness. They all declared that it was a heavy loss, but that a true believer had gone to Paradise; and they all agreed that no woman’s conduct could be more exemplary, that no woman was ever more fond of her husband. I said nothing, but I must acknowledge that, from her previous conversation with me, and the quantity of pilau which she devoured that evening for her supper, Ivery much doubted the fact.I did not remain long at home; as, although it was my duty to acquaint my mother with my father’s death, it was also my duty to appear to return to my corps. This I had resolved never more to do. I reflected that a life of quiet and ease was best suited to my disposition; and I resolved to join some religious sect. Before I quitted my mother’s roof I gave her thirty sequins, which she was most thankful for, as she was in straitened circumstances. “Ah!” cried she, as she wrapt up the money carefully in a piece of rag, “if you could only have brought back your poor father’s head, Hudusi!”—I might have told her that she had just received what I had sold it for—but I thought it just as well to say nothing about it; so I embraced her, and departed.There was a sort of dervishes, who had taken up their quarters about seven miles from the village where my mother resided; and as they never remained long in one place, I hastened to join them. On my arrival, I requested to speak with their chief, and imagining that I was come with the request of prayers to be offered up on behalf of some wished-for object, I was admitted.“Khoda shefa midehed—God gives relief,” said the old man. “What wishest thou, my son? Khosh amedeed—you are welcome.”I stated my wish to enter into the sect, from a religious feeling; and requested that I might be permitted.“Thou knowest not what thou askest, my son. Ours is a hard life, one of penitence, prostration, and prayer—our food is but of herbs and the water of the spring; our rest is broken, and we know not where to lay our heads. Depart, yaha bibi, my friend, depart in peace.”“But, father,” replied I (for to tell your highness the truth, notwithstanding the old man’s assertions, as to their austerities of life, I very much doubted the fact), “I am prepared for all this, if necessary, and even more. I have brought my little wealth to add to the store, and contribute to the welfare of your holy band; and I must not be denied.” I perceived that the old man’s eyes twinkled at the bare mention of gold, and I drew from my sash five and twenty sequins, which I had separated from my hoard, with the intention of offering it. “See, holy father,” continued I, “the offering which I would make.”“Barik Allah—praise be to God,” exclaimed the dervish, “that he has sent us a true believer. Thy offering is accepted; but thou must not expect yet to enter into the austerities of our holy order. I have many disciples here, who wear the dress, and yet they are not as regular as good dervishes should be; but there is a time for all things, and when their appetite to do wrong fails them, they will (Inshallah, please God), in all probability, become more holy and devout men. You are accepted.” And the old man held out his hand for the money, which he clutched with eagerness, and hid away under his garment. “Ali,” said he, to one of the dervishes who had stood at some distance during my audience, “this young man—what is your name—Hudusi—is admitted into our fraternity. Take him with thee, give him a dress of the order, and let him be initiated into our mysteries, first demanding from him the oath of secrecy. Murakhas, good Hudusi, you are dismissed.”I followed the dervish through a narrow passage, until we arrived at a door, at which he knocked; it was opened, and I passed through a court-yard, where I perceived several of the dervishes stretched on the ground in various postures, breathing heavily, and insensible.“These,” said my conductor, “are holy men who are favoured by Allah. They are in a trance, and during that state, are visited by the Prophet, and are permitted to enter the eighth heaven, and see the glories prepared for true believers.” I made no reply to his assertion, but as it was evident that they were all in a state of beastly intoxication, Ivery much doubted the fact.I received my dress, took an oath of secrecy, and was introduced to my companions; whom I soon found to be a set of dissolute fellows, indulging in every vice, and laughing at every virtue; living in idleness, and by the contributions made to them by the people, who firmly believed in their pretended sanctity. The old man, with the white beard, who was their chief, was the only one who did not indulge in debauchery. He had outlived his appetite for the vices of youth, and fallen into the vice of age—a love for money, which was insatiable. I must acknowledge that the company and mode of living were more to my satisfaction than the vigils, hard fare, and constant prayer, with which the old man had threatened me, when I proposed to enter the community, and I soon became an adept in dissimulation and hypocrisy, and a great favourite with my brethren.I ought to have observed to your sublimity, that the sect of dervishes, of which I had become a member, were then designated by the name ofhowlingdervishes; all our religion consisted in howling like jackals or hyenas, with all our might, until we fell down in real or pretended convulsions. My howl was considered as the most appalling and unearthly that was ever heard; and, of course, my sanctity was increased in proportion. We were on our way to Scutari, where was our real place of residence, and only lodged here and there on our journey to fleece those who were piously disposed. I had not joined more than ten days when they continued their route, and after a week of very profitable travelling, passed through Constantinople, crossed the Bosphorus, and regained their place of domiciliation, and were received with great joy by the inhabitants, to whom the old chief and many others of our troop were well known.Your sublime highness must be aware that the dervishes are not only consulted by, but often become the bankers of, the inhabitants, who entrust them with the care of their money. My old chief (whose name I should have mentioned before was Ulu-bibi), held large sums in trust for many of the people with whom he was acquainted; but his avarice inducing him to lend the money out on usury, it was very difficult to recover it when it was desired, although it was always religiously paid back. I had not been many months at Scutari, before I found myself in high favour, from my superior howling, and the duration of my convulsions. But during this state, which by habit soon became spasmodic, continuing until the vital functions were almost extinct, the mind was as active as ever, and I lay immersed in a sea of doubt which was most painful. In my state of exhaustion I doubted every thing. I doubted if my convulsions were convulsions, or only feigned; I doubted if I was asleep or awake; I doubted whether I was in a trance, or in another world, or dead, or—“Friend Hudusi,” interrupted Mustapha, “we want the facts of your story, and not your doubts. Say I not well, your highness? What is all this but bosh—nothing?”“It is well said,” replied the pacha.“Sometimes I thought that I had seized possession of a fact, but it slipped through my fingers like the tail of an eel.”“Let us have the facts, which did not escape thee, friend, and let the mists of doubt be cleared away before the glory of the pacha,” replied Mustapha.One day I was sitting in the warmth of the sun, by the tomb of a true believer, when an old woman accosted me.“You are welcome,” said I.“Is your humour good?” said she.“It is good,” replied I.She sat down by me; and, after a quarter of an hour, she continued: “God is great,” said she.“And Mahomet is his Prophet,” replied I. “In the name of Allah, what do you wish?”“Where is the holy man? I have money to give into his charge. May I not see him?”“He is at his devotions but what is that? Am not I the same? Do I not watch when he prayeth—Inshallah—please God we are the same. Give me the bag.”“Here it is,” said she, pulling out the money; “seven hundred sequins, my daughter’s marriage portion; but there are bad men, who steal, and there are good men, whom we can trust. Say I not well?”“It is well said,” replied I, “and God is great.”“You will find the money right,” said she. “Count it.”I counted it, and returned it into the goat’s-skin bag. “It is all right. Leave me, woman, for I must go in.”The old woman left me, returning thanks to Allah that her money was safe; but from certain ideas running in my mind, I verymuch doubted the fact. I sat down full of doubt. I doubted if the old woman had come honestly by the money; and whether I should give it to the head dervish. I doubted whether I ought to retain it for myself, and whether I might not come to mischief. I also had my doubts—“I have no doubt,” interrupted Mustapha, “but that you kept it for yourself. Say—is it not so?”Even so did my doubts resolve into that fact. I settled it in my mind, that seven hundred sequins, added to about four hundred still in my possession, would last some time, and that I was tired of the life of a howling dervish. I therefore set up one last long final howl, to let my senior know that I was present, and then immediately became absent. I hastened to the bazaar, and purchasing here and there—at one place a vest, at another a shawl, and at another a turban—I threw off my dress of a dervish, hastened to the bath, and after a few minutes under the barber, came out like a butterfly from its dark shell. No one would have recognised in the spruce young Turk, the filthy dervish. I hastened to Constantinople, where I lived gaily, and spent my money; but I found that to mix in the world, it is necessary not only to have an attaghan, but also to have the courage to use it; and in several broils which took place, from my too frequent use of the water of the Giaour, I invariably proved, that although my voice was that of a lion, my heart was but as water, and the finger of contempt was but too often pointed at the beard of pretence. One evening, as I was escaping from a coffee-house, after having drawn my attaghan, without having the courage to face my adversary, I received a blow from his weapon which cleft my turban, and cut deeply into my head. I flew through the streets upon the wings of fear, and at last ran against an unknown object, which I knocked down, and then fell alongside of, rolling with it in the mud. I recovered myself, and looking at it, found it to be alive, and, in the excess of my alarm, I imagined it to be Shitan himself; but if not the devil himself, it was one of the sons of Shitan, for it was an unbeliever, a Giaour, a dog to spit upon; in short, it was a Frank hakim—so renowned for curing all diseases, that it was said he was assisted by the Devil.“Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil,” said Mustapha, taking his pipe out of his mouth and spitting.“Wallah thaib! It is well said,” replied the pacha.I was so convinced that it was nothing of this world, that, as soon as I could recover my legs, I made a blow at him with my attaghan, fully expecting that he would disappear in a flame of fire at the touch of a true believer; but on the contrary, he had also recovered his legs, and with a large cane with a gold top on it, he parried my cut, and then saluted me with such a blow on my head, that I again fell down in the mud, quite insensible. When I recovered, I found myself on a mat in an outhouse, and attended by my opponent, who was plastering up my head. “It is nothing,” said he, as he bound up my head, but I suffered so much pain, and felt so weak with loss of blood, that in spite of his assertions, I very much doubted the fact. Shall I describe this son of Jehanum? And when I do so, will not your highness doubt the fact? Be chesm, upon my head be it, if I lie. He was less than a man, for he had no beard; he had no turban, but a piece of net-work, covered with the hair of other men in their tombs, which he sprinkled with the flour from the bakers, every morning, to feed his brain. He wore round his neck a piece of linen, tight as a bowstring, to prevent his head being taken off by any devout true believer, as he walked through the street. His dress was of the colour of hell, black, and bound closely to his body, yet must he have been a great man in his own country, for he was evidently a pacha of two tails, which were hanging behind him. He was a dreadful man, to look upon, and feared nothing; he walked into the house of pestilence—he handled those whom Allah had visited with the plague—he went to the bed, and the sick rose and walked. He warred with destiny; and no man could say what was his fate until the hakim had decided. He held in his hand the key of the portal which opened into the regions of death; and—what can I say more? he said live, and the believer lived; he said die, and the houris received him into Paradise.“A yesedi! a worshipper of the devil,” exclaimed Mustapha.“May he and his father’s grave be eternally defiled!” responded the pacha.I remained a fortnight under the hakim’s hands before I was well enough to walk about; and when I had reflected, I doubted whether it would not be wiser to embrace a more peaceful profession. The hakim spoke our language well; and one day said to me, “Thou art more fit to cure than to give wounds. Thou shalt assist me, for he who is now with me will not remain.” I consented, and putting on a more peaceful garb, continued many months with the Frank physician, travelling every where, but seldom remaining long in one place; he followed disease instead of flying from it, and I had my doubts whether, from constant attendance upon the dying, I might not die myself, and I resolved to quit him the first favourable opportunity. I had already learnt many wonderful things from him; that blood was necessary to life, and that without breath a man would die, and that white powders cured fevers, and black drops stopped the dysentery. At last we arrived in this town; and the other day, as I was pounding the drug of reflection in the mortar of patience, the physician desired me to bring his lancets, and to follow him. I paced through the streets behind the learned hakim, until we arrived at a mean house, in an obscure quarter of this grand city, over which your highness reigns in justice. An old woman, full of lamentation, led us to the sick couch, where lay a creature, beautiful in shape as a houri. The Frank physician was desired by the old woman to feel her pulse through the curtain, but he laughed at her beard (for she had no small one), and drew aside the curtains and took hold of a hand so small and so delicate, that it were only fit to feed the Prophet himself near the throne of the angel Gabriel, with the immortal pilau prepared for true believers. Her face was covered, and the Frank desired the veil to be removed. The old woman refused, and he turned on his heel to leave her to the assaults of death. The old woman’s love for her child conquered her religious scruples, and she consented that her daughter should unveil to an unbeliever. I was in ecstasy at her charms, and could have asked her for a wife; but the Frank only asked to see her tongue. Having looked at it, he turned away with as much indifference as if it had been a dying dog. He desired me to bind up her arm, and took away a bason full of her golden blood, and then put a white powder into the hands of the old woman, saying that he would see her again. I held out my hand for the gold, but there was none forthcoming.“We are poor,” cried the old woman, to the hakim, “but God is great.”“I do not want your money, good woman,” replied he; “I will cure your daughter.” Then he went to the bedside and spoke comfort to the sick girl, telling her to be of good courage, and all would be well.The girl answered in a voice sweeter than a nightingale’s, that she had but thanks to offer in return, and prayers to the Most High. “Yes,” said the old woman, raising her voice, “a scoundrel of a howling dervish robbed me at Scutari of all I had for my subsistence, and of my daughter’s portion, seven hundred sequins, in a goat’s-skin bag!” and then she began to curse. May the dogs of the city howl at her ugliness! How she did curse! She cursed my father and mother—she cursed their graves—flung dirt upon my brother and sisters, and filth upon the whole generation. She gave me up to Jehanum, and to every species of defilement. It was a dreadful thing to hear that old woman curse. I pulled my turban over my eyes, that she might not recognise me, and lifted up my garment to cover my face, that I might not be defiled with the shower of curses which were thrown at me like mud, and sat there watching till the storm was over. Unfortunately, in lifting up my garment, I exposed to the view of the old hag the cursed goat’s-skin bag, which hung at my girdle, and contained, not only her money, but the remainder of my own. “Mashallah—how wonderful is God!” screamed the old beldame, flying at me like a tigress, and clutching the bag from my girdle. Having secured that, she darted at me with her ten nails, and scored down my face, which I had so unfortunately covered in the first instance, and so unfortunately uncovered in the second. What shall I say more? The neighbours came in—I was hurried before the cadi, in company with the old woman and the Frank physician. The money and bag were taken from me—I was dismissed by the hakim, and after receiving one hundred blows from the ferashes, I was dismissed by the cadi. It was my fate—and I have told my story. Is your slave dismissed?“No,” replied the pacha; “by our beard, we must see to this, Mustapha; say, Hudusi, what was the decision of the cadi? Our ears are open.”“The cadi decided as follows:— That I had stolen the money, and therefore I was punished with the bastinado; but, as the old woman stated that the bag contained seven hundred sequins, and there were found in it upwards of eleven hundred, that the money could not belong to her. He therefore retained it until he could find the right owner. The physician was fined fifty sequins for looking at a Turkish woman, and fifty more for shrugging up his shoulders. The girl was ordered into the cadi’s harem, because she had lost her dowry; and the old woman was sent about her business. All present declared that the sentence was wisdom itself; but, for my part,I very much doubted the fact.”“Mustapha,” said the pacha, “send for the cadi, the Frank physician, the old woman, the girl, and the goat’s-skin bag; we must examine into this affair.”The officers were despatched; and in less than an hour, during which the pacha and his vizier smoked in silence, the cadi with the others made their appearance.“May your highness’s shadow never be less!” said the cadi, as he entered.“Mobarek! may you be fortunate!” replied the pacha. “What is this we hear, cadi? there is a goat’s-skin bag, and a girl, that are not known to our justice. Are there secrets like those hid in the well of Kashan—speak! what dirt have you been eating?”“What shall I say?” replied the cadi; “I am but as dirt; the money is here, and the girl is here. Is the pacha to be troubled with every woman’s noise, or am I come before him with a piece or two of gold—Min Allah—God forbid! Have I not here the money, andseven more purses? Was not the girl visited by the angel of death; and could she appear before your presence lean as a dog in the bazaar? Is she not here? Have I spoken well?”“It is well said, cadi. Murakhas—you are dismissed.”The Frank physician was then fined one hundred sequins more; fifty for feeling the pulse, and fifty more for looking at a Turkish woman’s tongue. The young woman was dismissed to the pacha’s harem, the old woman to curse as much as she pleased, and Hudusi with full permission todoubtany thing but the justice of the pacha.
The next morning the pacha and his minister, after the business of the divan, with their heads aching from the doubts of Hudusi, or the means that they had taken to remove them, in not the best humour in the world listened to the continuation of them, as follows:—
I have heard it observed, continued Hudusi, that the sudden possession of gold will make a brave man cautious, and he who is not brave, still more dastardly than he was before. It certainly was the case with me; my five hundred pieces of gold had such an effect, that every thing in the shape of valour oozed out at my fingers’ ends. I reflected again, and the result was, that I determined to have nothing more to do with the business, and that neither the sultan nor the pacha should be the better for my exertions. That night we made a sally; and as I was considered a prodigy of valour, I was one of those who were ordered to lead on my troop. I curled my moustachios, swore I would not leave a janissary alive, flourished my scimitar, marched out at the head of my troop, and then took to my heels, and in two days arrived safely at my mother’s house. As soon as I entered, I tore my turban, and threw dust upon my head, in honour of my father’s memory, and then sat down. My mother embraced me—we were alone.
“And your father? Is it for him that we are to mourn?”
“Yes,” replied I, “he was a lion, and he is in Paradise.”
My mother commenced a bitter lamentation; but of a sudden recollecting herself, she said, “but, Hudusi, it’s no use tearing one’s hair and good clothes for nothing. Are you sure that your father is dead?”
“Quite sure,” replied I. “I saw him down.”
“But he may only be wounded,” replied my mother.
“Not so, my dearest mother, abandon all hope, for I saw his head off.”
“Are you sure it was his body that you saw with the head off?”
“Quite sure, dear mother, for I was a witness to its being cut off.”
“If that is the case,” replied my mother, “he can never come back again, that’s clear. Allah acbar—God is great. Then must we mourn.” And my mother ran out into the street before the door, shrieking and screaming, tearing her hair and her garments, so as to draw the attention and the sympathy of all her neighbours, who asked her what was the matter. “Ah! wahi, the head of my house is no more,” cried she, “my heart is all bitterness—my soul is dried up—my liver is but as water; ah! wahi, ah! wahi,” and she continued to weep and tear her hair, refusing all consolation. The neighbours came to her assistance; they talked to her, they reasoned with her, restrained her violence, and soothed her into quietness. They all declared that it was a heavy loss, but that a true believer had gone to Paradise; and they all agreed that no woman’s conduct could be more exemplary, that no woman was ever more fond of her husband. I said nothing, but I must acknowledge that, from her previous conversation with me, and the quantity of pilau which she devoured that evening for her supper, Ivery much doubted the fact.
I did not remain long at home; as, although it was my duty to acquaint my mother with my father’s death, it was also my duty to appear to return to my corps. This I had resolved never more to do. I reflected that a life of quiet and ease was best suited to my disposition; and I resolved to join some religious sect. Before I quitted my mother’s roof I gave her thirty sequins, which she was most thankful for, as she was in straitened circumstances. “Ah!” cried she, as she wrapt up the money carefully in a piece of rag, “if you could only have brought back your poor father’s head, Hudusi!”—I might have told her that she had just received what I had sold it for—but I thought it just as well to say nothing about it; so I embraced her, and departed.
There was a sort of dervishes, who had taken up their quarters about seven miles from the village where my mother resided; and as they never remained long in one place, I hastened to join them. On my arrival, I requested to speak with their chief, and imagining that I was come with the request of prayers to be offered up on behalf of some wished-for object, I was admitted.
“Khoda shefa midehed—God gives relief,” said the old man. “What wishest thou, my son? Khosh amedeed—you are welcome.”
I stated my wish to enter into the sect, from a religious feeling; and requested that I might be permitted.
“Thou knowest not what thou askest, my son. Ours is a hard life, one of penitence, prostration, and prayer—our food is but of herbs and the water of the spring; our rest is broken, and we know not where to lay our heads. Depart, yaha bibi, my friend, depart in peace.”
“But, father,” replied I (for to tell your highness the truth, notwithstanding the old man’s assertions, as to their austerities of life, I very much doubted the fact), “I am prepared for all this, if necessary, and even more. I have brought my little wealth to add to the store, and contribute to the welfare of your holy band; and I must not be denied.” I perceived that the old man’s eyes twinkled at the bare mention of gold, and I drew from my sash five and twenty sequins, which I had separated from my hoard, with the intention of offering it. “See, holy father,” continued I, “the offering which I would make.”
“Barik Allah—praise be to God,” exclaimed the dervish, “that he has sent us a true believer. Thy offering is accepted; but thou must not expect yet to enter into the austerities of our holy order. I have many disciples here, who wear the dress, and yet they are not as regular as good dervishes should be; but there is a time for all things, and when their appetite to do wrong fails them, they will (Inshallah, please God), in all probability, become more holy and devout men. You are accepted.” And the old man held out his hand for the money, which he clutched with eagerness, and hid away under his garment. “Ali,” said he, to one of the dervishes who had stood at some distance during my audience, “this young man—what is your name—Hudusi—is admitted into our fraternity. Take him with thee, give him a dress of the order, and let him be initiated into our mysteries, first demanding from him the oath of secrecy. Murakhas, good Hudusi, you are dismissed.”
I followed the dervish through a narrow passage, until we arrived at a door, at which he knocked; it was opened, and I passed through a court-yard, where I perceived several of the dervishes stretched on the ground in various postures, breathing heavily, and insensible.
“These,” said my conductor, “are holy men who are favoured by Allah. They are in a trance, and during that state, are visited by the Prophet, and are permitted to enter the eighth heaven, and see the glories prepared for true believers.” I made no reply to his assertion, but as it was evident that they were all in a state of beastly intoxication, Ivery much doubted the fact.
I received my dress, took an oath of secrecy, and was introduced to my companions; whom I soon found to be a set of dissolute fellows, indulging in every vice, and laughing at every virtue; living in idleness, and by the contributions made to them by the people, who firmly believed in their pretended sanctity. The old man, with the white beard, who was their chief, was the only one who did not indulge in debauchery. He had outlived his appetite for the vices of youth, and fallen into the vice of age—a love for money, which was insatiable. I must acknowledge that the company and mode of living were more to my satisfaction than the vigils, hard fare, and constant prayer, with which the old man had threatened me, when I proposed to enter the community, and I soon became an adept in dissimulation and hypocrisy, and a great favourite with my brethren.
I ought to have observed to your sublimity, that the sect of dervishes, of which I had become a member, were then designated by the name ofhowlingdervishes; all our religion consisted in howling like jackals or hyenas, with all our might, until we fell down in real or pretended convulsions. My howl was considered as the most appalling and unearthly that was ever heard; and, of course, my sanctity was increased in proportion. We were on our way to Scutari, where was our real place of residence, and only lodged here and there on our journey to fleece those who were piously disposed. I had not joined more than ten days when they continued their route, and after a week of very profitable travelling, passed through Constantinople, crossed the Bosphorus, and regained their place of domiciliation, and were received with great joy by the inhabitants, to whom the old chief and many others of our troop were well known.
Your sublime highness must be aware that the dervishes are not only consulted by, but often become the bankers of, the inhabitants, who entrust them with the care of their money. My old chief (whose name I should have mentioned before was Ulu-bibi), held large sums in trust for many of the people with whom he was acquainted; but his avarice inducing him to lend the money out on usury, it was very difficult to recover it when it was desired, although it was always religiously paid back. I had not been many months at Scutari, before I found myself in high favour, from my superior howling, and the duration of my convulsions. But during this state, which by habit soon became spasmodic, continuing until the vital functions were almost extinct, the mind was as active as ever, and I lay immersed in a sea of doubt which was most painful. In my state of exhaustion I doubted every thing. I doubted if my convulsions were convulsions, or only feigned; I doubted if I was asleep or awake; I doubted whether I was in a trance, or in another world, or dead, or—
“Friend Hudusi,” interrupted Mustapha, “we want the facts of your story, and not your doubts. Say I not well, your highness? What is all this but bosh—nothing?”
“It is well said,” replied the pacha.
“Sometimes I thought that I had seized possession of a fact, but it slipped through my fingers like the tail of an eel.”
“Let us have the facts, which did not escape thee, friend, and let the mists of doubt be cleared away before the glory of the pacha,” replied Mustapha.
One day I was sitting in the warmth of the sun, by the tomb of a true believer, when an old woman accosted me.
“You are welcome,” said I.
“Is your humour good?” said she.
“It is good,” replied I.
She sat down by me; and, after a quarter of an hour, she continued: “God is great,” said she.
“And Mahomet is his Prophet,” replied I. “In the name of Allah, what do you wish?”
“Where is the holy man? I have money to give into his charge. May I not see him?”
“He is at his devotions but what is that? Am not I the same? Do I not watch when he prayeth—Inshallah—please God we are the same. Give me the bag.”
“Here it is,” said she, pulling out the money; “seven hundred sequins, my daughter’s marriage portion; but there are bad men, who steal, and there are good men, whom we can trust. Say I not well?”
“It is well said,” replied I, “and God is great.”
“You will find the money right,” said she. “Count it.”
I counted it, and returned it into the goat’s-skin bag. “It is all right. Leave me, woman, for I must go in.”
The old woman left me, returning thanks to Allah that her money was safe; but from certain ideas running in my mind, I verymuch doubted the fact. I sat down full of doubt. I doubted if the old woman had come honestly by the money; and whether I should give it to the head dervish. I doubted whether I ought to retain it for myself, and whether I might not come to mischief. I also had my doubts—
“I have no doubt,” interrupted Mustapha, “but that you kept it for yourself. Say—is it not so?”
Even so did my doubts resolve into that fact. I settled it in my mind, that seven hundred sequins, added to about four hundred still in my possession, would last some time, and that I was tired of the life of a howling dervish. I therefore set up one last long final howl, to let my senior know that I was present, and then immediately became absent. I hastened to the bazaar, and purchasing here and there—at one place a vest, at another a shawl, and at another a turban—I threw off my dress of a dervish, hastened to the bath, and after a few minutes under the barber, came out like a butterfly from its dark shell. No one would have recognised in the spruce young Turk, the filthy dervish. I hastened to Constantinople, where I lived gaily, and spent my money; but I found that to mix in the world, it is necessary not only to have an attaghan, but also to have the courage to use it; and in several broils which took place, from my too frequent use of the water of the Giaour, I invariably proved, that although my voice was that of a lion, my heart was but as water, and the finger of contempt was but too often pointed at the beard of pretence. One evening, as I was escaping from a coffee-house, after having drawn my attaghan, without having the courage to face my adversary, I received a blow from his weapon which cleft my turban, and cut deeply into my head. I flew through the streets upon the wings of fear, and at last ran against an unknown object, which I knocked down, and then fell alongside of, rolling with it in the mud. I recovered myself, and looking at it, found it to be alive, and, in the excess of my alarm, I imagined it to be Shitan himself; but if not the devil himself, it was one of the sons of Shitan, for it was an unbeliever, a Giaour, a dog to spit upon; in short, it was a Frank hakim—so renowned for curing all diseases, that it was said he was assisted by the Devil.
“Lahnet be Shitan! Curses on the devil,” said Mustapha, taking his pipe out of his mouth and spitting.
“Wallah thaib! It is well said,” replied the pacha.
I was so convinced that it was nothing of this world, that, as soon as I could recover my legs, I made a blow at him with my attaghan, fully expecting that he would disappear in a flame of fire at the touch of a true believer; but on the contrary, he had also recovered his legs, and with a large cane with a gold top on it, he parried my cut, and then saluted me with such a blow on my head, that I again fell down in the mud, quite insensible. When I recovered, I found myself on a mat in an outhouse, and attended by my opponent, who was plastering up my head. “It is nothing,” said he, as he bound up my head, but I suffered so much pain, and felt so weak with loss of blood, that in spite of his assertions, I very much doubted the fact. Shall I describe this son of Jehanum? And when I do so, will not your highness doubt the fact? Be chesm, upon my head be it, if I lie. He was less than a man, for he had no beard; he had no turban, but a piece of net-work, covered with the hair of other men in their tombs, which he sprinkled with the flour from the bakers, every morning, to feed his brain. He wore round his neck a piece of linen, tight as a bowstring, to prevent his head being taken off by any devout true believer, as he walked through the street. His dress was of the colour of hell, black, and bound closely to his body, yet must he have been a great man in his own country, for he was evidently a pacha of two tails, which were hanging behind him. He was a dreadful man, to look upon, and feared nothing; he walked into the house of pestilence—he handled those whom Allah had visited with the plague—he went to the bed, and the sick rose and walked. He warred with destiny; and no man could say what was his fate until the hakim had decided. He held in his hand the key of the portal which opened into the regions of death; and—what can I say more? he said live, and the believer lived; he said die, and the houris received him into Paradise.
“A yesedi! a worshipper of the devil,” exclaimed Mustapha.
“May he and his father’s grave be eternally defiled!” responded the pacha.
I remained a fortnight under the hakim’s hands before I was well enough to walk about; and when I had reflected, I doubted whether it would not be wiser to embrace a more peaceful profession. The hakim spoke our language well; and one day said to me, “Thou art more fit to cure than to give wounds. Thou shalt assist me, for he who is now with me will not remain.” I consented, and putting on a more peaceful garb, continued many months with the Frank physician, travelling every where, but seldom remaining long in one place; he followed disease instead of flying from it, and I had my doubts whether, from constant attendance upon the dying, I might not die myself, and I resolved to quit him the first favourable opportunity. I had already learnt many wonderful things from him; that blood was necessary to life, and that without breath a man would die, and that white powders cured fevers, and black drops stopped the dysentery. At last we arrived in this town; and the other day, as I was pounding the drug of reflection in the mortar of patience, the physician desired me to bring his lancets, and to follow him. I paced through the streets behind the learned hakim, until we arrived at a mean house, in an obscure quarter of this grand city, over which your highness reigns in justice. An old woman, full of lamentation, led us to the sick couch, where lay a creature, beautiful in shape as a houri. The Frank physician was desired by the old woman to feel her pulse through the curtain, but he laughed at her beard (for she had no small one), and drew aside the curtains and took hold of a hand so small and so delicate, that it were only fit to feed the Prophet himself near the throne of the angel Gabriel, with the immortal pilau prepared for true believers. Her face was covered, and the Frank desired the veil to be removed. The old woman refused, and he turned on his heel to leave her to the assaults of death. The old woman’s love for her child conquered her religious scruples, and she consented that her daughter should unveil to an unbeliever. I was in ecstasy at her charms, and could have asked her for a wife; but the Frank only asked to see her tongue. Having looked at it, he turned away with as much indifference as if it had been a dying dog. He desired me to bind up her arm, and took away a bason full of her golden blood, and then put a white powder into the hands of the old woman, saying that he would see her again. I held out my hand for the gold, but there was none forthcoming.
“We are poor,” cried the old woman, to the hakim, “but God is great.”
“I do not want your money, good woman,” replied he; “I will cure your daughter.” Then he went to the bedside and spoke comfort to the sick girl, telling her to be of good courage, and all would be well.
The girl answered in a voice sweeter than a nightingale’s, that she had but thanks to offer in return, and prayers to the Most High. “Yes,” said the old woman, raising her voice, “a scoundrel of a howling dervish robbed me at Scutari of all I had for my subsistence, and of my daughter’s portion, seven hundred sequins, in a goat’s-skin bag!” and then she began to curse. May the dogs of the city howl at her ugliness! How she did curse! She cursed my father and mother—she cursed their graves—flung dirt upon my brother and sisters, and filth upon the whole generation. She gave me up to Jehanum, and to every species of defilement. It was a dreadful thing to hear that old woman curse. I pulled my turban over my eyes, that she might not recognise me, and lifted up my garment to cover my face, that I might not be defiled with the shower of curses which were thrown at me like mud, and sat there watching till the storm was over. Unfortunately, in lifting up my garment, I exposed to the view of the old hag the cursed goat’s-skin bag, which hung at my girdle, and contained, not only her money, but the remainder of my own. “Mashallah—how wonderful is God!” screamed the old beldame, flying at me like a tigress, and clutching the bag from my girdle. Having secured that, she darted at me with her ten nails, and scored down my face, which I had so unfortunately covered in the first instance, and so unfortunately uncovered in the second. What shall I say more? The neighbours came in—I was hurried before the cadi, in company with the old woman and the Frank physician. The money and bag were taken from me—I was dismissed by the hakim, and after receiving one hundred blows from the ferashes, I was dismissed by the cadi. It was my fate—and I have told my story. Is your slave dismissed?
“No,” replied the pacha; “by our beard, we must see to this, Mustapha; say, Hudusi, what was the decision of the cadi? Our ears are open.”
“The cadi decided as follows:— That I had stolen the money, and therefore I was punished with the bastinado; but, as the old woman stated that the bag contained seven hundred sequins, and there were found in it upwards of eleven hundred, that the money could not belong to her. He therefore retained it until he could find the right owner. The physician was fined fifty sequins for looking at a Turkish woman, and fifty more for shrugging up his shoulders. The girl was ordered into the cadi’s harem, because she had lost her dowry; and the old woman was sent about her business. All present declared that the sentence was wisdom itself; but, for my part,I very much doubted the fact.”
“Mustapha,” said the pacha, “send for the cadi, the Frank physician, the old woman, the girl, and the goat’s-skin bag; we must examine into this affair.”
The officers were despatched; and in less than an hour, during which the pacha and his vizier smoked in silence, the cadi with the others made their appearance.
“May your highness’s shadow never be less!” said the cadi, as he entered.
“Mobarek! may you be fortunate!” replied the pacha. “What is this we hear, cadi? there is a goat’s-skin bag, and a girl, that are not known to our justice. Are there secrets like those hid in the well of Kashan—speak! what dirt have you been eating?”
“What shall I say?” replied the cadi; “I am but as dirt; the money is here, and the girl is here. Is the pacha to be troubled with every woman’s noise, or am I come before him with a piece or two of gold—Min Allah—God forbid! Have I not here the money, andseven more purses? Was not the girl visited by the angel of death; and could she appear before your presence lean as a dog in the bazaar? Is she not here? Have I spoken well?”
“It is well said, cadi. Murakhas—you are dismissed.”
The Frank physician was then fined one hundred sequins more; fifty for feeling the pulse, and fifty more for looking at a Turkish woman’s tongue. The young woman was dismissed to the pacha’s harem, the old woman to curse as much as she pleased, and Hudusi with full permission todoubtany thing but the justice of the pacha.
Volume Three--Chapter Two.“Mashallah! God be praised! we are rid of that fellow and his doubts. I have been thinking, Mustapha, as I smoked the pipe of surmise, and arrived at the ashes of certainty, that a man who had so many doubts, could not be a true believer. I wish I had sent him to the mollahs; we might have been amused with his being impaled, which is a rare object, now-a-days.”“God is great,” replied Mustapha, “and a stake is a strong argument, and would remove many doubts. But I have an infidel in the court-yard who telleth of strange things. He hath been caught like a wild beast; it is a Frank Galiongi, who hath travelled as far as that son of Shitan, Huckaback; he was found in the streets, overpowered by the forbidden juice, after having beaten many of your highness’s subjects, and the cadi would have administered the bamboo, but he was as a lion, and he scattered the slaves as chaff, until he fell, and could not rise again. I have taken him from the cadi, and brought him here. He speaketh but the Frankish tongue, but the sun who shineth on me knoweth I have been in the Frank country; and Inshallah! please the Lord, I can interpret his meaning.”“What sort of a man may he be, Mustapha?”“He is a baj baj—a big belly—a stout man; he is an anhunkher, a swallower of iron. He hath sailed in the war vessels of the Franks. He holdeth in one hand a bottle of the forbidden liquor, in the other, he shakes at those who would examine him, a thick stick. He hath a large handful of the precious weed which we use for our pipes in one of his cheeks, and his hair is hanging behind, down to his waist, in a rolled up mass, as thick as the arm of your slave.”“It is well—we will admit him; but let there be armed men at hand. Let me have a full pipe! God is great,” continued the pacha, holding out his glass to be filled; “and the bottle is nearly empty. Place the guards, bring in the infidel.”The guards in a few minutes brought into the presence of the pacha, a stout-built English sailor, in the usual dress, and with a tail which hung down behind, below his waist. The sailor did not appear to like his treatment; and every now and then, as they pushed and dragged him in, turned to one side or the other, looking daggers at those who conducted him. He was sober, although his eyes bore testimony to recent intoxication, and his face, which was manly and handsome, was much disfigured by an enormous quid of tobacco in his right cheek, which gave him an appearance of natural deformity. As soon as he was near enough to the pacha, the attendants let him go. Jack shook his jacket, hitched up his trousers, and said, looking furiously at them, “Well, you beggars, have you done with me at last?”Mustapha addressed the sailor in English, telling him that he was in the presence of his highness the pacha.“What, that old chap, muffled up in shawls and furs—is he the pacha? Well, I don’t think much o’ he;” and the sailor turned his eyes round the room, gaping with astonishment, and perfectly unmindful how very near he was to one who could cut off his head or his tail, by a single movement of his hand.“What sayeth the Frank, Mustapha?” inquired the pacha.“He is struck dumb with astonishment at the splendour of your majesty, and all that he beholds.”“It is well said, by Allah!”“I suppose I may just as well come to an anchor,” said the sailor, suiting the action to the word, and dropping down on the mats. “There,” continued he, folding his legs in imitation of the Turks, “as it’s the fashion to have a cross in your hawse, in this here country, I can be a bit of a lubber as well as yourselves. I wouldn’t mind if I blew a cloud, as well as you, old fusty-musty.”“What does the Giaour say? What son of a dog is this, to sit in our presence?” exclaimed the pacha.“He sayeth,” replied Mustapha, “that in his country, no one dare stand in the presence of the Frankish king; and, overcome by his humility, his legs refuse their office, and he sinks to the dust before you. It is even as he sayeth, for I have travelled in their country, and such is the custom of that uncivilised nation. Mashallah! but he lives in awe and trembling.”“By the beard of the Prophet, he does not appear to show it outwardly,” replied the pacha; “but that may be the custom also.”“Be chesm, on my eyes be it,” replied Mustapha, “it is even so. Frank,” said Mustapha, “the pacha has sent for you that he may hear an account of all the wonderful things which you have seen. You must tell lies, and you will have gold.”“Tell lies! that is, spin a yarn; well, I can do that, but my mouth’s baked with thirst, and without a drop of something, the devil a yarn from me; and so you may tell the old Billy-goat, perched up there.”“What sayeth the son of Shitan?” demanded the pacha, impatiently.“The unbeliever declareth that his tongue is glued to his mouth from the terror of your highness’s presence. He fainteth after water to restore him, and enable him to speak.”“Let him be fed,” rejoined the pacha.But Mustapha had heard enough to know that the sailor would not be content with the pure element. He therefore continued, “Your slave must tell you, that in the country of the Franks, they drink nothing but the fire water, in which the true believers but occasionally venture to indulge.”“Allah acbar! nothing but fire water? What then do they do with common water?”“They have none but from heaven—the rivers are all of the same strength.”“Mashallah! how wonderful is God! I would we had a river here. Let some be procured, then, for I wish to hear his story.”A bottle of brandy was sent for, and handed to the sailor, who put it to his mouth; and the quantity he took of it before he removed the bottle to recover his breath, fully convinced the pacha that Mustapha’s assertions were true.“Come, that’s not so bad,” said the sailor, putting the bottle down between his legs; “and now I’ll be as good as my word, and I’ll spin old Billy a yarn as long as the maintop-bowling.”“What sayeth the Giaour?” interrupted the pacha.“That he is about to lay at your highness’s feet the wonderful events of his life, and trusts that his face will be whitened before he quits your sublime presence. Frank, you may proceed.”“To lie till I’m black in the face—well, since you wish it; but, old chap, my name a’r’nt Frank. It happens to be Bill; howsomever, it warn’t a bad guess for a Turk; and now I’m here, I’d just like to ax you a question. We had a bit of a hargument the other day, when I was in a frigate up the Dardanelles, as to what your religion might be. Jack Soames said that you warn’t Christians, but that if you were, you could only be Catholics; but I don’t know how he could know any thing about it, seeing that he had not been more than seven weeks on board of a man of war. What may you be—if I may make so bold as to ax the question?”“What does he say?” inquired the pacha, impatiently.“He says,” interrupted Mustapha, “that he was not so fortunate as to be born in the country of the true believers, but in an island full of fog and mist, where the sun never shines, and the cold is so intense, that the water from heaven is hard and cold as a flint.”“That accounts for their not drinking it. Mashallah, God is great! Let him proceed.”“The pacha desires me to say, that there is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet; and begs that you will go on with your story.”“Never heard of the chap—never mind—here’s saw wood.”Tale of the English Sailor.I was born at Shields, and bred to the sea, served my time out of that port, and got a berth on board a small vessel fitted out from Liverpool for the slave trade. We made the coast, unstowed our beads, spirits, and gunpowder, and very soon had a cargo on board; but the day after we sailed for the Havannah, the dysentery broke out among the niggers—no wonder, seeing how they were stowed, poor devils, head and tail, like pilchards in a cask. We opened the hatches, and brought part of them on deck, but it was of no use, they died like rotten sheep, and we tossed overboard about thirty a day. Many others, who were alive, jumped overboard, and we were followed by a shoal of sharks, splashing and darting, and diving, and tearing the bodies, yet warm, and revelling in the hot and bloody water. At last they were all gone, and we turned back to the coast to get a fresh supply. We were within a day’s sail of the land, when we saw two boats on our weather bow; they made signals to us, and we found them to be full of men; we hove-to, and took them on board, and then it was that we discovered that they had belonged to a French schooner, in the same trade, which had started a plank, and had gone down like a shot, with all the niggers in the hold.“Now, give the old gentleman the small change of that, while I just wet my whistle.”Mustapha having interpreted, and the sailor having taken a swig at the bottle, he proceeded.We didn’t much like having these French beggars on board; and it wasn’t without reason, for they were as many as we were. The very first night they were overheard by a negro who belonged to us, and had learnt French, making a plan for overpowering us, and taking possession of the vessel; so when we heard that, their doom was sealed. We mustered ourselves on the deck, put the hatches over some o’ the French, seized those on deck, and—in half an hour they all walked a plank.“I do not understand what you mean,” said Mustapha.“That’s ’cause you’re a lubber of a landsman. The long and short of walking a plank is just this. We passed a wide plank over the gunnel, greasing it well at the outer end, led the Frenchmen up to it blindfolded, and wished them ‘bon voyage,’ in their own lingo, just out of politeness. They walked on till they toppled into the sea, and the sharks did’nt refuse them, though they prefer a nigger to any thing else.”“What does he say, Mustapha?” interrupted the pacha. Mustapha interpreted.“Good; I should like to have seen that,” replied the pacha.Well, as soon as we were rid of the Frenchmen, we made our port, and soon had another cargo on board, and, after a good run, got safe to the Havannah, where we sold our slaves; but I did’nt much like the sarvice, so I cut the schooner, and sailed home in summer, and got back safe to England. There I fell in with Betsey, and as she proved a regular out and outer, I spliced her; and a famous wedding we had of it, as long as the rhino lasted; but that wasn’t long, the more’s the pity; so I went to sea for more. When I came back after my trip, I found that Bet hadn’t behaved quite so well as she might have done, so I cut my stick, and went away from her altogether.“Why didn’t you put her in a sack?” inquired the pacha, when Mustapha explained.“Put her head in a bag—no, she wasn’t so ugly as all that,” replied the sailor. “Howsomever, to coil away.”I joined a privateer brig, and after three cruises I had plenty of money, and determined to have another spell on shore, that I might get rid of it. Then I picked up Sue, and spliced again; but, Lord bless your heart, she turned out a regular built tartar—nothing but fight fight, scratch scratch, all day long, till I wished her at old Scratch. I was tired of her, and Sue had taken a fancy to another chap; so says she one day, “As we both be of the same mind, why don’t you sell me, and then we may part in a respectable manner.” I agrees; and I puts a halter round her neck, and leads her to the market-place, the chap following to buy her. “Who bids for this woman,” says I.“I do,” says he.“What will you give?”“Half-a-crown,” says he.“Will you throw a glass of grog into the bargain?”“Yes,” says he.“Then she’s yours; and I wish you much joy of your bargain.” So I hands the rope to him, and he leads her off.“How much do you say he sold his wife for?” said the pacha to Mustapha, when this part of the story was repeated to him.“A piastre, and a drink of the fire water,” replied the vizier.“Ask him if she was handsome?” said the pacha.“Handsome,” replied the sailor to Mustapha’s inquiry; “yes, she was as pretty a craft to look at as you may set your eyes upon; fine round counter—clean run—swelling bows—good figure-head, and hair enough for a mermaid.”“What does he say?” inquired the pacha.“The Frank declareth that her eyes were bright as those of the gazelle—that her eyebrows were as one—her waist as that of the cypress—her face as the full moon; and that she was fat as the houris that await the true believers.”“Mashallah! all for a piastre. Ask him, Mustapha, if there are more wives to be sold in that country?”“More,” replied the sailor in answer to Mustapha; “you may have a ship full in an hour. There’s many a fellow in England who would give a handful of coin to get rid of his wife.”“We will make further inquiry, Mustapha; it must be looked to. Say I not well?”“It is well said,” replied Mustapha. “My heart is burnt as roast meat at the recollection of the women of the country; who are, indeed, as he hath described, houris to the sight. Proceed, Yaha bibi, my friend, and tell his—”“Yaw Bibby! I told you my name was Bill, not Bibby; and I never yaws from my course, although I heaves-to sometimes, as I do now, to take in provisions.” The sailor took another swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and continued. “Now for a good lie.”I sailed in a brig for the Brazils, and a gale came on, that I never seed the like of. We were obliged to have three men stationed to hold the captain’s hair on his head, and a little boy was blown over the moon, and slid down by two or three of her beams, till he caught the mainstay, and never hurt himself.“Good,” said Mustapha, who interpreted.“By the beard of the Prophet, wonderful!” exclaimed the pacha.Well, the gale lasted for a week; and at last one night, when I was at the helm, we dashed on the rocks of a desolate island. I was pitched right over the mountains, and fell into the sea on the other side of the island. I swam on shore, and got into a cave, where I fell fast asleep. The next morning I found that there was nothing to eat except rats, and they were plentiful; but they were so quick, that I could not catch them. I walked about, and at last discovered a great many rats together; they were at a spring of water; the only one, as I afterwards found, on the island. Rats can’t do without water; and I thought I should have them there. I filled up the spring, all but a hole which I sat on the top of. When the rats came again, I filled my mouth with water, and held it wide open; they ran up to drink, and I caught their heads in my teeth, and thus I took as many as I wished.“Aferin, excellent!” cried the pacha, as soon as this was explained.Well, at last a vessel took me off, and I wasn’t sorry for it, for raw rats are not very good eating. I went home again, and I hadn’t been on shore more than two hours, when who should I see but my first wife, Bet, with a robin-redbreast in tow. “That’s he!” says she. I gave fight, but was nabbed and put into limbo, to be tried for what they callbiggery, or having a wife too much.“How does he mean? desire him to explain,” said the pacha, after Mustapha had conveyed the intelligence. Mustapha obeyed.“In our country one wife is considered a man’s allowance; and he is not to take more, that every Jack may have his Jill, I had spliced two; so they tried me, and sent me to Botany Bay for life.”This explanation puzzled the pacha. “How—what sort of a country must it be, when a man cannot have two wives? Inshallah! please the Lord, we may have hundreds in our harem! Does he not laugh at our beards with lies? Is this not allbosh, nothing?”“It is even so, as the Frank speaketh,” replied Mustapha. “The king of the country can take but one wife. Be chesm, on my eyes be it, if it is not the truth.”“Well,” rejoined the pacha, “what are they but infidels? They deserve to have no more. Houris are for the faithful. May their fathers’ graves be defiled. Let the Giaour proceed.”Well, I was started for the other side of the water, and got there safe enough, as I hope one day to get to Heaven, wind and weather permitting: but I had no idea of working without pay, so one fine morning, I slipt away into the woods, where I remained with three or four more for six months. We lived upon kangaroos, and another odd little animal, and got on pretty well.“What may the dish of kangaroos be composed of?” inquired Mustapha, in obedience to the pacha.“’Posed of! why a dish of kangaroos be made of kangaroos, to be sure.”But I’ll be dished if I talked about any thing but the animal, which we had some trouble to kill; for it stands on its big tail, and fights with all four feet. Moreover, it be otherwise a strange beast; for its young ones pop out of its stomach, and then pop in again, having a place there on purpose, just like the great hole in the bow of a timber ship; and as for the other little animal, it swims in the ponds, lays eggs, and has a duck’s bill, yet still it be covered all over with hair like a beast.The vizier interrupted. “By the Prophet, but he laughs at our beards!” exclaimed the pacha, angrily. “These are foolish lies.”“You must not tell the pacha such foolish lies. He will be angry,” said Mustapha. “Tell lies, but they must be good lies.”“Well, I’ll be damned,” replied the sailor, “if the old beggar don’t doubt the only part which is true out of the whole yarn. Well, I will try another good un to please him.”After I had been there about six months I was tired; and as there was only twenty thousand miles between that country and my own, I determined to swim back.“Mashallah! swim back—how many thousand miles?” exclaimed Mustapha.“Only twenty thousand—a mere nothing.”So one fine morning I throws a young kangaroo on my shoulder, and off I starts. I swam for three months, night and day, and then feeling a little tired, I laid-to on my back, and then I set off again; but by this time I was so covered with barnacles, that I made but little way. So I stopped at Ascension, scraped and cleaned myself, and then, after feeding for a week on turtle, just to keep the scurvy out of my bones, I set off again; and as I passed the Gut, I thought I might just as well put in here; and here I arrived, sure enough, yesterday about three bells in the morning watch, after a voyage of five months and three days.When Mustapha translated all this to the pacha, the latter was lost in astonishment. “Allah wakbar! God is every where! Did you ever hear of such a swimmer? Twenty thousand miles—five months and three days. It is a wonderful story! Let his mouth be filled with gold.”Mustapha intimated to the sailor the unexpected compliment about to be conferred on him, just as he had finished the bottle, and rolled it away on one side. “Well, that be a rum way of paying a man. I have heard it said that a fellowpursedup his mouth but I never afore heard of a mouth being apurse. Howsomever, all’s one for that; only, d’ye see, if you are about to stow it away in bulk, it may be just as well to get rid of the dunnage.”The sailor put his thumb and forefinger into the cheek, and pulled out his enormous quid of tobacco. “There now, I’m ready, and don’t be afraid of choking me.” One of the attendants then thrust several pieces of gold into the sailor’s mouth, who spitting them all out into his hat, jumped on his legs, made a jerk of his head with a kick of the leg behind to the pacha; and declaring that he was the funniest old beggar he had ever fallen in with, nodded to Mustapha, and hastened out of the divan.“Mashallah! but he swims well,” said the pacha, breaking up the audience.
“Mashallah! God be praised! we are rid of that fellow and his doubts. I have been thinking, Mustapha, as I smoked the pipe of surmise, and arrived at the ashes of certainty, that a man who had so many doubts, could not be a true believer. I wish I had sent him to the mollahs; we might have been amused with his being impaled, which is a rare object, now-a-days.”
“God is great,” replied Mustapha, “and a stake is a strong argument, and would remove many doubts. But I have an infidel in the court-yard who telleth of strange things. He hath been caught like a wild beast; it is a Frank Galiongi, who hath travelled as far as that son of Shitan, Huckaback; he was found in the streets, overpowered by the forbidden juice, after having beaten many of your highness’s subjects, and the cadi would have administered the bamboo, but he was as a lion, and he scattered the slaves as chaff, until he fell, and could not rise again. I have taken him from the cadi, and brought him here. He speaketh but the Frankish tongue, but the sun who shineth on me knoweth I have been in the Frank country; and Inshallah! please the Lord, I can interpret his meaning.”
“What sort of a man may he be, Mustapha?”
“He is a baj baj—a big belly—a stout man; he is an anhunkher, a swallower of iron. He hath sailed in the war vessels of the Franks. He holdeth in one hand a bottle of the forbidden liquor, in the other, he shakes at those who would examine him, a thick stick. He hath a large handful of the precious weed which we use for our pipes in one of his cheeks, and his hair is hanging behind, down to his waist, in a rolled up mass, as thick as the arm of your slave.”
“It is well—we will admit him; but let there be armed men at hand. Let me have a full pipe! God is great,” continued the pacha, holding out his glass to be filled; “and the bottle is nearly empty. Place the guards, bring in the infidel.”
The guards in a few minutes brought into the presence of the pacha, a stout-built English sailor, in the usual dress, and with a tail which hung down behind, below his waist. The sailor did not appear to like his treatment; and every now and then, as they pushed and dragged him in, turned to one side or the other, looking daggers at those who conducted him. He was sober, although his eyes bore testimony to recent intoxication, and his face, which was manly and handsome, was much disfigured by an enormous quid of tobacco in his right cheek, which gave him an appearance of natural deformity. As soon as he was near enough to the pacha, the attendants let him go. Jack shook his jacket, hitched up his trousers, and said, looking furiously at them, “Well, you beggars, have you done with me at last?”
Mustapha addressed the sailor in English, telling him that he was in the presence of his highness the pacha.
“What, that old chap, muffled up in shawls and furs—is he the pacha? Well, I don’t think much o’ he;” and the sailor turned his eyes round the room, gaping with astonishment, and perfectly unmindful how very near he was to one who could cut off his head or his tail, by a single movement of his hand.
“What sayeth the Frank, Mustapha?” inquired the pacha.
“He is struck dumb with astonishment at the splendour of your majesty, and all that he beholds.”
“It is well said, by Allah!”
“I suppose I may just as well come to an anchor,” said the sailor, suiting the action to the word, and dropping down on the mats. “There,” continued he, folding his legs in imitation of the Turks, “as it’s the fashion to have a cross in your hawse, in this here country, I can be a bit of a lubber as well as yourselves. I wouldn’t mind if I blew a cloud, as well as you, old fusty-musty.”
“What does the Giaour say? What son of a dog is this, to sit in our presence?” exclaimed the pacha.
“He sayeth,” replied Mustapha, “that in his country, no one dare stand in the presence of the Frankish king; and, overcome by his humility, his legs refuse their office, and he sinks to the dust before you. It is even as he sayeth, for I have travelled in their country, and such is the custom of that uncivilised nation. Mashallah! but he lives in awe and trembling.”
“By the beard of the Prophet, he does not appear to show it outwardly,” replied the pacha; “but that may be the custom also.”
“Be chesm, on my eyes be it,” replied Mustapha, “it is even so. Frank,” said Mustapha, “the pacha has sent for you that he may hear an account of all the wonderful things which you have seen. You must tell lies, and you will have gold.”
“Tell lies! that is, spin a yarn; well, I can do that, but my mouth’s baked with thirst, and without a drop of something, the devil a yarn from me; and so you may tell the old Billy-goat, perched up there.”
“What sayeth the son of Shitan?” demanded the pacha, impatiently.
“The unbeliever declareth that his tongue is glued to his mouth from the terror of your highness’s presence. He fainteth after water to restore him, and enable him to speak.”
“Let him be fed,” rejoined the pacha.
But Mustapha had heard enough to know that the sailor would not be content with the pure element. He therefore continued, “Your slave must tell you, that in the country of the Franks, they drink nothing but the fire water, in which the true believers but occasionally venture to indulge.”
“Allah acbar! nothing but fire water? What then do they do with common water?”
“They have none but from heaven—the rivers are all of the same strength.”
“Mashallah! how wonderful is God! I would we had a river here. Let some be procured, then, for I wish to hear his story.”
A bottle of brandy was sent for, and handed to the sailor, who put it to his mouth; and the quantity he took of it before he removed the bottle to recover his breath, fully convinced the pacha that Mustapha’s assertions were true.
“Come, that’s not so bad,” said the sailor, putting the bottle down between his legs; “and now I’ll be as good as my word, and I’ll spin old Billy a yarn as long as the maintop-bowling.”
“What sayeth the Giaour?” interrupted the pacha.
“That he is about to lay at your highness’s feet the wonderful events of his life, and trusts that his face will be whitened before he quits your sublime presence. Frank, you may proceed.”
“To lie till I’m black in the face—well, since you wish it; but, old chap, my name a’r’nt Frank. It happens to be Bill; howsomever, it warn’t a bad guess for a Turk; and now I’m here, I’d just like to ax you a question. We had a bit of a hargument the other day, when I was in a frigate up the Dardanelles, as to what your religion might be. Jack Soames said that you warn’t Christians, but that if you were, you could only be Catholics; but I don’t know how he could know any thing about it, seeing that he had not been more than seven weeks on board of a man of war. What may you be—if I may make so bold as to ax the question?”
“What does he say?” inquired the pacha, impatiently.
“He says,” interrupted Mustapha, “that he was not so fortunate as to be born in the country of the true believers, but in an island full of fog and mist, where the sun never shines, and the cold is so intense, that the water from heaven is hard and cold as a flint.”
“That accounts for their not drinking it. Mashallah, God is great! Let him proceed.”
“The pacha desires me to say, that there is but one God, and Mahomet is his Prophet; and begs that you will go on with your story.”
“Never heard of the chap—never mind—here’s saw wood.”
I was born at Shields, and bred to the sea, served my time out of that port, and got a berth on board a small vessel fitted out from Liverpool for the slave trade. We made the coast, unstowed our beads, spirits, and gunpowder, and very soon had a cargo on board; but the day after we sailed for the Havannah, the dysentery broke out among the niggers—no wonder, seeing how they were stowed, poor devils, head and tail, like pilchards in a cask. We opened the hatches, and brought part of them on deck, but it was of no use, they died like rotten sheep, and we tossed overboard about thirty a day. Many others, who were alive, jumped overboard, and we were followed by a shoal of sharks, splashing and darting, and diving, and tearing the bodies, yet warm, and revelling in the hot and bloody water. At last they were all gone, and we turned back to the coast to get a fresh supply. We were within a day’s sail of the land, when we saw two boats on our weather bow; they made signals to us, and we found them to be full of men; we hove-to, and took them on board, and then it was that we discovered that they had belonged to a French schooner, in the same trade, which had started a plank, and had gone down like a shot, with all the niggers in the hold.
“Now, give the old gentleman the small change of that, while I just wet my whistle.”
Mustapha having interpreted, and the sailor having taken a swig at the bottle, he proceeded.
We didn’t much like having these French beggars on board; and it wasn’t without reason, for they were as many as we were. The very first night they were overheard by a negro who belonged to us, and had learnt French, making a plan for overpowering us, and taking possession of the vessel; so when we heard that, their doom was sealed. We mustered ourselves on the deck, put the hatches over some o’ the French, seized those on deck, and—in half an hour they all walked a plank.
“I do not understand what you mean,” said Mustapha.
“That’s ’cause you’re a lubber of a landsman. The long and short of walking a plank is just this. We passed a wide plank over the gunnel, greasing it well at the outer end, led the Frenchmen up to it blindfolded, and wished them ‘bon voyage,’ in their own lingo, just out of politeness. They walked on till they toppled into the sea, and the sharks did’nt refuse them, though they prefer a nigger to any thing else.”
“What does he say, Mustapha?” interrupted the pacha. Mustapha interpreted.
“Good; I should like to have seen that,” replied the pacha.
Well, as soon as we were rid of the Frenchmen, we made our port, and soon had another cargo on board, and, after a good run, got safe to the Havannah, where we sold our slaves; but I did’nt much like the sarvice, so I cut the schooner, and sailed home in summer, and got back safe to England. There I fell in with Betsey, and as she proved a regular out and outer, I spliced her; and a famous wedding we had of it, as long as the rhino lasted; but that wasn’t long, the more’s the pity; so I went to sea for more. When I came back after my trip, I found that Bet hadn’t behaved quite so well as she might have done, so I cut my stick, and went away from her altogether.
“Why didn’t you put her in a sack?” inquired the pacha, when Mustapha explained.
“Put her head in a bag—no, she wasn’t so ugly as all that,” replied the sailor. “Howsomever, to coil away.”
I joined a privateer brig, and after three cruises I had plenty of money, and determined to have another spell on shore, that I might get rid of it. Then I picked up Sue, and spliced again; but, Lord bless your heart, she turned out a regular built tartar—nothing but fight fight, scratch scratch, all day long, till I wished her at old Scratch. I was tired of her, and Sue had taken a fancy to another chap; so says she one day, “As we both be of the same mind, why don’t you sell me, and then we may part in a respectable manner.” I agrees; and I puts a halter round her neck, and leads her to the market-place, the chap following to buy her. “Who bids for this woman,” says I.
“I do,” says he.
“What will you give?”
“Half-a-crown,” says he.
“Will you throw a glass of grog into the bargain?”
“Yes,” says he.
“Then she’s yours; and I wish you much joy of your bargain.” So I hands the rope to him, and he leads her off.
“How much do you say he sold his wife for?” said the pacha to Mustapha, when this part of the story was repeated to him.
“A piastre, and a drink of the fire water,” replied the vizier.
“Ask him if she was handsome?” said the pacha.
“Handsome,” replied the sailor to Mustapha’s inquiry; “yes, she was as pretty a craft to look at as you may set your eyes upon; fine round counter—clean run—swelling bows—good figure-head, and hair enough for a mermaid.”
“What does he say?” inquired the pacha.
“The Frank declareth that her eyes were bright as those of the gazelle—that her eyebrows were as one—her waist as that of the cypress—her face as the full moon; and that she was fat as the houris that await the true believers.”
“Mashallah! all for a piastre. Ask him, Mustapha, if there are more wives to be sold in that country?”
“More,” replied the sailor in answer to Mustapha; “you may have a ship full in an hour. There’s many a fellow in England who would give a handful of coin to get rid of his wife.”
“We will make further inquiry, Mustapha; it must be looked to. Say I not well?”
“It is well said,” replied Mustapha. “My heart is burnt as roast meat at the recollection of the women of the country; who are, indeed, as he hath described, houris to the sight. Proceed, Yaha bibi, my friend, and tell his—”
“Yaw Bibby! I told you my name was Bill, not Bibby; and I never yaws from my course, although I heaves-to sometimes, as I do now, to take in provisions.” The sailor took another swig, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and continued. “Now for a good lie.”
I sailed in a brig for the Brazils, and a gale came on, that I never seed the like of. We were obliged to have three men stationed to hold the captain’s hair on his head, and a little boy was blown over the moon, and slid down by two or three of her beams, till he caught the mainstay, and never hurt himself.
“Good,” said Mustapha, who interpreted.
“By the beard of the Prophet, wonderful!” exclaimed the pacha.
Well, the gale lasted for a week; and at last one night, when I was at the helm, we dashed on the rocks of a desolate island. I was pitched right over the mountains, and fell into the sea on the other side of the island. I swam on shore, and got into a cave, where I fell fast asleep. The next morning I found that there was nothing to eat except rats, and they were plentiful; but they were so quick, that I could not catch them. I walked about, and at last discovered a great many rats together; they were at a spring of water; the only one, as I afterwards found, on the island. Rats can’t do without water; and I thought I should have them there. I filled up the spring, all but a hole which I sat on the top of. When the rats came again, I filled my mouth with water, and held it wide open; they ran up to drink, and I caught their heads in my teeth, and thus I took as many as I wished.
“Aferin, excellent!” cried the pacha, as soon as this was explained.
Well, at last a vessel took me off, and I wasn’t sorry for it, for raw rats are not very good eating. I went home again, and I hadn’t been on shore more than two hours, when who should I see but my first wife, Bet, with a robin-redbreast in tow. “That’s he!” says she. I gave fight, but was nabbed and put into limbo, to be tried for what they callbiggery, or having a wife too much.
“How does he mean? desire him to explain,” said the pacha, after Mustapha had conveyed the intelligence. Mustapha obeyed.
“In our country one wife is considered a man’s allowance; and he is not to take more, that every Jack may have his Jill, I had spliced two; so they tried me, and sent me to Botany Bay for life.”
This explanation puzzled the pacha. “How—what sort of a country must it be, when a man cannot have two wives? Inshallah! please the Lord, we may have hundreds in our harem! Does he not laugh at our beards with lies? Is this not allbosh, nothing?”
“It is even so, as the Frank speaketh,” replied Mustapha. “The king of the country can take but one wife. Be chesm, on my eyes be it, if it is not the truth.”
“Well,” rejoined the pacha, “what are they but infidels? They deserve to have no more. Houris are for the faithful. May their fathers’ graves be defiled. Let the Giaour proceed.”
Well, I was started for the other side of the water, and got there safe enough, as I hope one day to get to Heaven, wind and weather permitting: but I had no idea of working without pay, so one fine morning, I slipt away into the woods, where I remained with three or four more for six months. We lived upon kangaroos, and another odd little animal, and got on pretty well.
“What may the dish of kangaroos be composed of?” inquired Mustapha, in obedience to the pacha.
“’Posed of! why a dish of kangaroos be made of kangaroos, to be sure.”
But I’ll be dished if I talked about any thing but the animal, which we had some trouble to kill; for it stands on its big tail, and fights with all four feet. Moreover, it be otherwise a strange beast; for its young ones pop out of its stomach, and then pop in again, having a place there on purpose, just like the great hole in the bow of a timber ship; and as for the other little animal, it swims in the ponds, lays eggs, and has a duck’s bill, yet still it be covered all over with hair like a beast.
The vizier interrupted. “By the Prophet, but he laughs at our beards!” exclaimed the pacha, angrily. “These are foolish lies.”
“You must not tell the pacha such foolish lies. He will be angry,” said Mustapha. “Tell lies, but they must be good lies.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” replied the sailor, “if the old beggar don’t doubt the only part which is true out of the whole yarn. Well, I will try another good un to please him.”
After I had been there about six months I was tired; and as there was only twenty thousand miles between that country and my own, I determined to swim back.
“Mashallah! swim back—how many thousand miles?” exclaimed Mustapha.
“Only twenty thousand—a mere nothing.”
So one fine morning I throws a young kangaroo on my shoulder, and off I starts. I swam for three months, night and day, and then feeling a little tired, I laid-to on my back, and then I set off again; but by this time I was so covered with barnacles, that I made but little way. So I stopped at Ascension, scraped and cleaned myself, and then, after feeding for a week on turtle, just to keep the scurvy out of my bones, I set off again; and as I passed the Gut, I thought I might just as well put in here; and here I arrived, sure enough, yesterday about three bells in the morning watch, after a voyage of five months and three days.
When Mustapha translated all this to the pacha, the latter was lost in astonishment. “Allah wakbar! God is every where! Did you ever hear of such a swimmer? Twenty thousand miles—five months and three days. It is a wonderful story! Let his mouth be filled with gold.”
Mustapha intimated to the sailor the unexpected compliment about to be conferred on him, just as he had finished the bottle, and rolled it away on one side. “Well, that be a rum way of paying a man. I have heard it said that a fellowpursedup his mouth but I never afore heard of a mouth being apurse. Howsomever, all’s one for that; only, d’ye see, if you are about to stow it away in bulk, it may be just as well to get rid of the dunnage.”
The sailor put his thumb and forefinger into the cheek, and pulled out his enormous quid of tobacco. “There now, I’m ready, and don’t be afraid of choking me.” One of the attendants then thrust several pieces of gold into the sailor’s mouth, who spitting them all out into his hat, jumped on his legs, made a jerk of his head with a kick of the leg behind to the pacha; and declaring that he was the funniest old beggar he had ever fallen in with, nodded to Mustapha, and hastened out of the divan.
“Mashallah! but he swims well,” said the pacha, breaking up the audience.