Chapter Fifteen.The Lawyer’s Apology.For some distance the way was along good firm sand, and they got over several miles before the heat became too much for Lawrence, who was glad to sit down under the shade of a low cliff facing the sea and nibble one of the biscuits that had been pretty well soaked with sea-water, and drink from a rivulet whose presence suggested the halt.When the heat of the day had somewhat abated the journey was continued; and, at last, when the night was beginning to fall and arrangements had to be made for sleep, the outlook was very black, for they were in a very desert place, and, though Yussuf and the professor both climbed eminences from time to time, there was not a trace of human habitation, while their supply of food was growing very short.“Never mind,” said the professor cheerily. “Let’s have a good night’s rest. I don’t think we need set a watch here, eh, Yussuf?”“It is always better to do so, effendi,” said the Muslim, in his quiet thoughtful manner; “there is a great ridge of rocks yonder in front, and who knows what may be on the other side.”“But no one has seen us come here; and if they had, we have not much to lose.”“Except the Turkish gold the two excellencies have in the belts round their waists,” said Yussuf quietly.Mr Preston started at this, but said nothing then. Later on he found that his thoughts had been shared upon the subject, for, as they sat close up to a projecting cliff, Mr Burne leaned towards him and whispered:“Did you tell the guide that you had a lot of money in your cash-belt?”“No. Did you?”“No.”“It is very strange,” said the professor.“It is worse,” was the reply; “but, look here, for goodness’ sake don’t go making me uncomfortable by hinting that Yussuf has designs against us.”“I am not going to,” said the professor shortly. “I agree that it is strange that he should know it, but I am going to place absolute faith in Yussuf. If I am deceived in the man so much the worse for me.”“But he is an unspeakable Turk, Preston, and you are always reading what the Turks are.”“I am always reading what their wretched government is. As a race I believe the Turks are a particularly grave, gentlemanly race of men.”“I am sure,” said Lawrence, “that Yussuf is doing all he can in our interest.”“Tchah! stuff, boy! what do you know about human nature?” cried Mr Burne angrily. “We are out here in the desert at this man’s mercy.”“But he fought for us and saved me from drowning.”“Of course he did, boy; he is paid to do it.”“Then why don’t you trust him, sir?” said Lawrence, speaking out boldly.“Because very likely he is doing all this to save us for himself. Suppose he robs us and then runs away to Tadmor in the wilderness, or some other outlandish place, what can we do? There are no policemen here.”“Hush,” said Mr Preston; “here he is.”Yussuf came gravely stalking down from above where he had been taking a fresh observation inland.“I can see nothing, effendi,” he said softly. “We must sleep and see what another day brings forth.”“Yes,” said Mr Preston; “and we are all weary. But, Yussuf.”“Effendi?”“How did you know that my friend, here, and I carried belts containing gold?”The Muslim looked from one to the other sharply, and it was plain that he read the suspicion in their eyes, for his own flashed, and a stern aspect came over his countenance.It passed away directly and his face lit up with a smile.“Simply enough, excellencies,” he said. “Mr Burne, here, is always feeling his waist to find out whether it is quite safe, or lifting it up a little because it is heavy.”“I? What? No such thing, sir—no such thing,” cried the old lawyer angrily.“Well, I have seen you do so a great many times,” said Mr Preston laughing.“And so have I, Mr Burne,” cried Lawrence, “often.”“I deny it, gentlemen, I deny it,” he cried; and sitting up he involuntarily placed his hands just above his hips, and gave himself a hitch after the fashion of a sailor.The professor burst into a hearty laugh; Lawrence roared; and Yussuf’s face was so comically grave that Mr Burne could not resist the infection, and laughed in turn.“There,” he exclaimed; “I suppose, I do without knowing it, and I am so cautious, too.”“But come,” said Mr Preston, turning to Yussuf, “you have not seen me do this, I think.”“No, effendi, never; but when we were busy baling the water out of the boat for these dogs of Greeks to escape, your garments were wet and clung to you tightly, and the shape of the belt could be plainly seen.”“Of course it could,” said the professor bluffly. “Why, Yussuf, I believe now in the story about the dervish who was asked if he met the camel, and told the owners all about it: the lame leg, the missing tooth, the load of rice on one side, the honey on the other, and all without seeing it.”“Nonsense!” said Mr Burne testily, “how could he?”“Why, my dear sir, you must have forgotten that old tale. By the light impression of one foot in the sand, by the herbage not being evenly cropped, and by the ants being busy with the fallen grain on one side, the flies, attracted by the honey, upon the other.”“Bah!” exclaimed the old lawyer. “Eastern tales are all gammon. I don’t believe in the East at all.”“Nor in people being cast ashore in desert places and having encounters with Greek sailors. Nor in their having a faithful experienced Mussulman guide, who fought for them and strove his very best to get them out of their troubles, eh, Burne? Well, I do, and I’m very tired. Good-night, Yussuf. You are going to sleep, I suppose?”“No, effendi,” said the Turk. “I shall watch till the stars say it is two hours past midnight, and then I shall awaken you.”“Humph! Wrong again,” cried Mr Burne testily. “I always am wrong. What are you laughing at, sir?”“At you, Mr Burne. I beg your pardon, I couldn’t help it,” said Lawrence.“Oh, I’ll forgive you, boy. I’m glad to see you can laugh like that, instead of being regularly knocked up with our troubles. I begin to believe that you never have been ill, and were shamming so as to get a holiday.”“Do you, sir?” said Lawrence sadly.“No, my boy. Good-night. Good-night, Yussuf,” he added, and then he raised an echo by blowing his nose.“Good-night, excellency,” said the Turk, rather haughtily; and soon there was nothing to be heard but the sighing of the night wind and the low murmur of the rippling sea.There was little to see, too, in the darkness, but the figures of the reclining sleepers, and that of the grave sentinel, who sat upon a big mass of stone, crouched in a heap and looking as if he were part of the rock, save when he changed his position a little to refill his pipe.The night passed without any alarm. The professor was awakened about two and took Yussuf’s place, and soon after daybreak the others were roused, and the residue of the provisions was opened out.“Be easier to carry when eaten,” said Mr Preston laughing.He looked serious directly, for there was a peculiarly sombre frown upon Yussuf’s brow, which suggested that he was thinking over Mr Burne’s suspicions of the previous evening, and his rather unpleasant way.“Look here, Burne,” the professor whispered, as they sat together on the sand eating their spare meal, “I think, if I were you, I would make a bit of an apology to Yussuf. He is really a gentleman at heart, and has been accustomed to mix a great deal with Englishmen. He is a good deal hurt by our suspicions, and it is a pity for there to be any disunion in our little camp.”“Camp, indeed!” cried the old man testily; “pretty sort of a camp, without a tent in it. I shall be racked with rheumatism in all my old bones. I know I shall, after this wild-goose chase.”“Let’s hope not,” said the professor; “but you will make some advances to him, will you not?”“You mind your own affairs, sir. Don’t you teach me. My back’s horrible this morning. Can’t you wait a bit. I was going to make amends if you had left me alone.”“That’s right,” said the professor cheerily. “I want him to have a good opinion of Englishmen.”Lawrence watched eagerly for Mr Burne’s apology, but he did not speak till just as they were going to start, when he stepped aside behind a rock for a few minutes, and then came out again and walked up to Yussuf with something coiled up in his hand.“Look here, Yussuf,” he said. “You’re a stronger man than I am, and used to the country. I wish you would buckle this round your waist—out of sight, of course.”As he spoke he held out his heavy cash-belt, which was thoroughly well padded with gold coin, and then threw it over the Turk’s arm.Yussuf looked at him intently, and a complete change came over the man’s face as he shook his head and held the belt out for Mr Burne to take again.“No, excellency,” he said, “I understand you. It is to show me that you trust me, but you doubt me still.”“No, I do not,” cried Mr Burne. “Nothing of the sort. You think I do, because I said ugly things yesterday. But that was my back.”“Your excellency’s back?”“Yes, my man; my back. It ached horribly. There, I do trust you. I should be a brute if I did not.”“I’ll take your excellency’s word, then,” said Yussuf gravely. “I will not carry the belt.”“Nonsense, man, do. There, it was to make you believe in me; but all the same it does tire me terribly, and it frets me, just where I feel most tender from my fall. It would relieve me a great deal, and it would be safer with you than with me. Come, there’s a good fellow; carry it for me. I beg you will.”The Turk shook his head, and stood holding out the belt, turning his eyes directly after to Mr Preston and then upon Lawrence.“Come,” continued Mr Burne, “you surely do not bear malice because a tired man who was in great pain said a few hasty words. The belt has really fretted and chafed me. I am ready to trust in your sincerity; will you not trust in mine?”Yussuf’s countenance lit up, and he caught Mr Burne’s hand in his, and raised it to his lips hastily, after which he opened his loose robe and carefully buckled the money-belt within his inner garment.“That’s the way,” cried Mr Burne cheerily; and he looked happier and more relieved himself; “and look here, Yussuf, I’m a curious suspicious sort of fellow, who has had dealings with strange people all his life. I believe in you, I do indeed, and whenever you find me saying unpleasant things, you’ll know my back’s bad, and that I don’t mean it. And now, for goodness’ sake, let’s get to some civilised place where we can have a cup of coffee and a glass of wine. Preston, old fellow, I’d give a sovereign now for a good well-cooked mutton-chop—I mean four sovereigns for four—one a-piece. I’m not a greedy man.”Lawrence went forward to Yussuf’s side, and these two led the way, along by the purple sea, which was now flashing in the morning sun, and the delicious air made the travellers feel inspirited, and ready to forget all discomforts as they tramped on in search of a village, while, before they had gone far, Mr Burne turned his dry face to the professor and said:“Well, did that do?”“My dear Burne,” cried the professor, “I am just beginning to know you. It was admirable.”“Humph!” ejaculated the old lawyer, who then blew a sounding blast upon his nose. “I am beginning to think that a neater form of apology to a man—a foreign heretic sort of a man—was never offered.”“It could not have been better. What do you think, Lawrence?” he added as the latter halted to let his elders catch up, Yussuf going on alone.“I don’t know what you were talking about,” he replied.“Mr Burne’s apology. I say it was magnificent.”“So do I,” exclaimed Lawrence. “Capital.”“Humph! Think so? Well, I suppose it was all right,” said Mr Burne. “But I say,” he whispered, gazing after Yussuf who was striding away fifty yards ahead and leaving them behind, “do you really think that money will be all right?”“I say, Mr Burne,” cried Lawrence laughing; “is your back beginning to ache already?”The old lawyer stopped short, and turned upon the lad with a comical look, half mirth, half anger in his countenance.“You impudent young dog,” he cried. “I knew you were shamming, and not ill at all. My back, indeed! Well, yes. Come along. I suppose it was beginning to ache.”
For some distance the way was along good firm sand, and they got over several miles before the heat became too much for Lawrence, who was glad to sit down under the shade of a low cliff facing the sea and nibble one of the biscuits that had been pretty well soaked with sea-water, and drink from a rivulet whose presence suggested the halt.
When the heat of the day had somewhat abated the journey was continued; and, at last, when the night was beginning to fall and arrangements had to be made for sleep, the outlook was very black, for they were in a very desert place, and, though Yussuf and the professor both climbed eminences from time to time, there was not a trace of human habitation, while their supply of food was growing very short.
“Never mind,” said the professor cheerily. “Let’s have a good night’s rest. I don’t think we need set a watch here, eh, Yussuf?”
“It is always better to do so, effendi,” said the Muslim, in his quiet thoughtful manner; “there is a great ridge of rocks yonder in front, and who knows what may be on the other side.”
“But no one has seen us come here; and if they had, we have not much to lose.”
“Except the Turkish gold the two excellencies have in the belts round their waists,” said Yussuf quietly.
Mr Preston started at this, but said nothing then. Later on he found that his thoughts had been shared upon the subject, for, as they sat close up to a projecting cliff, Mr Burne leaned towards him and whispered:
“Did you tell the guide that you had a lot of money in your cash-belt?”
“No. Did you?”
“No.”
“It is very strange,” said the professor.
“It is worse,” was the reply; “but, look here, for goodness’ sake don’t go making me uncomfortable by hinting that Yussuf has designs against us.”
“I am not going to,” said the professor shortly. “I agree that it is strange that he should know it, but I am going to place absolute faith in Yussuf. If I am deceived in the man so much the worse for me.”
“But he is an unspeakable Turk, Preston, and you are always reading what the Turks are.”
“I am always reading what their wretched government is. As a race I believe the Turks are a particularly grave, gentlemanly race of men.”
“I am sure,” said Lawrence, “that Yussuf is doing all he can in our interest.”
“Tchah! stuff, boy! what do you know about human nature?” cried Mr Burne angrily. “We are out here in the desert at this man’s mercy.”
“But he fought for us and saved me from drowning.”
“Of course he did, boy; he is paid to do it.”
“Then why don’t you trust him, sir?” said Lawrence, speaking out boldly.
“Because very likely he is doing all this to save us for himself. Suppose he robs us and then runs away to Tadmor in the wilderness, or some other outlandish place, what can we do? There are no policemen here.”
“Hush,” said Mr Preston; “here he is.”
Yussuf came gravely stalking down from above where he had been taking a fresh observation inland.
“I can see nothing, effendi,” he said softly. “We must sleep and see what another day brings forth.”
“Yes,” said Mr Preston; “and we are all weary. But, Yussuf.”
“Effendi?”
“How did you know that my friend, here, and I carried belts containing gold?”
The Muslim looked from one to the other sharply, and it was plain that he read the suspicion in their eyes, for his own flashed, and a stern aspect came over his countenance.
It passed away directly and his face lit up with a smile.
“Simply enough, excellencies,” he said. “Mr Burne, here, is always feeling his waist to find out whether it is quite safe, or lifting it up a little because it is heavy.”
“I? What? No such thing, sir—no such thing,” cried the old lawyer angrily.
“Well, I have seen you do so a great many times,” said Mr Preston laughing.
“And so have I, Mr Burne,” cried Lawrence, “often.”
“I deny it, gentlemen, I deny it,” he cried; and sitting up he involuntarily placed his hands just above his hips, and gave himself a hitch after the fashion of a sailor.
The professor burst into a hearty laugh; Lawrence roared; and Yussuf’s face was so comically grave that Mr Burne could not resist the infection, and laughed in turn.
“There,” he exclaimed; “I suppose, I do without knowing it, and I am so cautious, too.”
“But come,” said Mr Preston, turning to Yussuf, “you have not seen me do this, I think.”
“No, effendi, never; but when we were busy baling the water out of the boat for these dogs of Greeks to escape, your garments were wet and clung to you tightly, and the shape of the belt could be plainly seen.”
“Of course it could,” said the professor bluffly. “Why, Yussuf, I believe now in the story about the dervish who was asked if he met the camel, and told the owners all about it: the lame leg, the missing tooth, the load of rice on one side, the honey on the other, and all without seeing it.”
“Nonsense!” said Mr Burne testily, “how could he?”
“Why, my dear sir, you must have forgotten that old tale. By the light impression of one foot in the sand, by the herbage not being evenly cropped, and by the ants being busy with the fallen grain on one side, the flies, attracted by the honey, upon the other.”
“Bah!” exclaimed the old lawyer. “Eastern tales are all gammon. I don’t believe in the East at all.”
“Nor in people being cast ashore in desert places and having encounters with Greek sailors. Nor in their having a faithful experienced Mussulman guide, who fought for them and strove his very best to get them out of their troubles, eh, Burne? Well, I do, and I’m very tired. Good-night, Yussuf. You are going to sleep, I suppose?”
“No, effendi,” said the Turk. “I shall watch till the stars say it is two hours past midnight, and then I shall awaken you.”
“Humph! Wrong again,” cried Mr Burne testily. “I always am wrong. What are you laughing at, sir?”
“At you, Mr Burne. I beg your pardon, I couldn’t help it,” said Lawrence.
“Oh, I’ll forgive you, boy. I’m glad to see you can laugh like that, instead of being regularly knocked up with our troubles. I begin to believe that you never have been ill, and were shamming so as to get a holiday.”
“Do you, sir?” said Lawrence sadly.
“No, my boy. Good-night. Good-night, Yussuf,” he added, and then he raised an echo by blowing his nose.
“Good-night, excellency,” said the Turk, rather haughtily; and soon there was nothing to be heard but the sighing of the night wind and the low murmur of the rippling sea.
There was little to see, too, in the darkness, but the figures of the reclining sleepers, and that of the grave sentinel, who sat upon a big mass of stone, crouched in a heap and looking as if he were part of the rock, save when he changed his position a little to refill his pipe.
The night passed without any alarm. The professor was awakened about two and took Yussuf’s place, and soon after daybreak the others were roused, and the residue of the provisions was opened out.
“Be easier to carry when eaten,” said Mr Preston laughing.
He looked serious directly, for there was a peculiarly sombre frown upon Yussuf’s brow, which suggested that he was thinking over Mr Burne’s suspicions of the previous evening, and his rather unpleasant way.
“Look here, Burne,” the professor whispered, as they sat together on the sand eating their spare meal, “I think, if I were you, I would make a bit of an apology to Yussuf. He is really a gentleman at heart, and has been accustomed to mix a great deal with Englishmen. He is a good deal hurt by our suspicions, and it is a pity for there to be any disunion in our little camp.”
“Camp, indeed!” cried the old man testily; “pretty sort of a camp, without a tent in it. I shall be racked with rheumatism in all my old bones. I know I shall, after this wild-goose chase.”
“Let’s hope not,” said the professor; “but you will make some advances to him, will you not?”
“You mind your own affairs, sir. Don’t you teach me. My back’s horrible this morning. Can’t you wait a bit. I was going to make amends if you had left me alone.”
“That’s right,” said the professor cheerily. “I want him to have a good opinion of Englishmen.”
Lawrence watched eagerly for Mr Burne’s apology, but he did not speak till just as they were going to start, when he stepped aside behind a rock for a few minutes, and then came out again and walked up to Yussuf with something coiled up in his hand.
“Look here, Yussuf,” he said. “You’re a stronger man than I am, and used to the country. I wish you would buckle this round your waist—out of sight, of course.”
As he spoke he held out his heavy cash-belt, which was thoroughly well padded with gold coin, and then threw it over the Turk’s arm.
Yussuf looked at him intently, and a complete change came over the man’s face as he shook his head and held the belt out for Mr Burne to take again.
“No, excellency,” he said, “I understand you. It is to show me that you trust me, but you doubt me still.”
“No, I do not,” cried Mr Burne. “Nothing of the sort. You think I do, because I said ugly things yesterday. But that was my back.”
“Your excellency’s back?”
“Yes, my man; my back. It ached horribly. There, I do trust you. I should be a brute if I did not.”
“I’ll take your excellency’s word, then,” said Yussuf gravely. “I will not carry the belt.”
“Nonsense, man, do. There, it was to make you believe in me; but all the same it does tire me terribly, and it frets me, just where I feel most tender from my fall. It would relieve me a great deal, and it would be safer with you than with me. Come, there’s a good fellow; carry it for me. I beg you will.”
The Turk shook his head, and stood holding out the belt, turning his eyes directly after to Mr Preston and then upon Lawrence.
“Come,” continued Mr Burne, “you surely do not bear malice because a tired man who was in great pain said a few hasty words. The belt has really fretted and chafed me. I am ready to trust in your sincerity; will you not trust in mine?”
Yussuf’s countenance lit up, and he caught Mr Burne’s hand in his, and raised it to his lips hastily, after which he opened his loose robe and carefully buckled the money-belt within his inner garment.
“That’s the way,” cried Mr Burne cheerily; and he looked happier and more relieved himself; “and look here, Yussuf, I’m a curious suspicious sort of fellow, who has had dealings with strange people all his life. I believe in you, I do indeed, and whenever you find me saying unpleasant things, you’ll know my back’s bad, and that I don’t mean it. And now, for goodness’ sake, let’s get to some civilised place where we can have a cup of coffee and a glass of wine. Preston, old fellow, I’d give a sovereign now for a good well-cooked mutton-chop—I mean four sovereigns for four—one a-piece. I’m not a greedy man.”
Lawrence went forward to Yussuf’s side, and these two led the way, along by the purple sea, which was now flashing in the morning sun, and the delicious air made the travellers feel inspirited, and ready to forget all discomforts as they tramped on in search of a village, while, before they had gone far, Mr Burne turned his dry face to the professor and said:
“Well, did that do?”
“My dear Burne,” cried the professor, “I am just beginning to know you. It was admirable.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the old lawyer, who then blew a sounding blast upon his nose. “I am beginning to think that a neater form of apology to a man—a foreign heretic sort of a man—was never offered.”
“It could not have been better. What do you think, Lawrence?” he added as the latter halted to let his elders catch up, Yussuf going on alone.
“I don’t know what you were talking about,” he replied.
“Mr Burne’s apology. I say it was magnificent.”
“So do I,” exclaimed Lawrence. “Capital.”
“Humph! Think so? Well, I suppose it was all right,” said Mr Burne. “But I say,” he whispered, gazing after Yussuf who was striding away fifty yards ahead and leaving them behind, “do you really think that money will be all right?”
“I say, Mr Burne,” cried Lawrence laughing; “is your back beginning to ache already?”
The old lawyer stopped short, and turned upon the lad with a comical look, half mirth, half anger in his countenance.
“You impudent young dog,” he cried. “I knew you were shamming, and not ill at all. My back, indeed! Well, yes. Come along. I suppose it was beginning to ache.”
Chapter Sixteen.The Starting-Point.Mr Burne showed no more distrust, though Yussuf was striding away faster and faster, at a rate that Lawrence’s strength forbade him to attempt to emulate; but the reason soon became evident. He was making for an elevation about a mile away, and upon reaching it he toiled up to the top, and as soon as he had done so he turned and took off his fez and began to wave it in the air.“He has found out something,” said the professor.“If it is a hotel where we can get a good breakfast he shall have my advice for nothing any time he likes to come and ask it,” said Mr Burne, rubbing his hands.“In London?” said the professor.“Anywhere, sir. There, that will do. Don’t swing your arms about like that,” he continued, addressing the guide, who was of course far out of hearing. “Anyone would think that because he was right on the top of a hill he had caught the wind-mill complaint.”The three travellers were almost as much excited as Yussuf, and hurried on, Lawrence forgetting his weakness in the interest of the moment, so that it was not long before they reached the top—hot, breathless, and panting with exertion.Their guide pointed to what appeared to be a group of huts a long way off.“Is that all?” grumbled the old lawyer. “I thought you had found a place where we could have a comfortable meal.”“There will be bread, and fruit, and a boat, excellency,” said Yussuf quietly; “and these are what you want, are they not?”“I suppose so,” replied Mr Burne, gazing forward at what now appeared to be a cluster of small houses by the sea-shore, backed by a dense grove of trees, while in front, and about a quarter of a mile from the sands, lay three small boats. “It is not a desert place then,” he grumbled, as they all went on together. “How far is it to that cluster of hovels?”“About two miles, excellency.”“About two miles, and before breakfast,” muttered the old fellow sourly; but he drew a long breath as if he were trying to master his disinclination, and then turning to Lawrence with a grim smile he cried, “Now, look here, cripple against invalid, I’ll race you; fair walking, and Mr Preston to be umpire. One—two—three—off.”It was a fair walk of about an hour before they entered the cluster of huts, each surrounded by a good-sized fruit garden, the people standing outside and staring hard at the strange visitors who came along the shore, one of whom plumped himself upon the edge of a boat that was drawn up on the sands, another throwing himself down, hot and panting with exertion, while the two who were left a little way behind strode up more leisurely, one of them to ask for refreshment and a resting-place out of the sun.“There is no mistake about it, Lawrence,” cried the professor eagerly, “you couldn’t have done that in England.”Lawrence laughed.“But I am completely tired out,” he exclaimed, wiping his face. “I could not have gone any further.”“Neither could I,” groaned Mr Burne. “Oh, my back, my back! Who won, Preston?”“A dead heat, decidedly,” said the professor laughing; but he was watching Lawrence the while very attentively, and asking himself whether he was letting the lad over-exert himself.One thing, however, was plain enough, and that was that the sick lad had been allowed to droop and mope in his ailment. The serious disease was there, of course, but he had been nursed up and coddled to a terrible extent, and this had made him far worse than he would have been had he led an active country life, or been induced to exert himself a little instead of lying in bed or upon a couch day after day.The people seemed disposed to resent the coming of the strangers at first, and declined to supply them with either food or a resting-place, till Yussuf drew out some money, and assured them that they would be paid for everything that was eaten. Then they grew more civil, and Yussuf explained to his employers that the reason for the people’s churlishness was, that they were often obliged to supply food or work by some tyrannical government officer or another, and the only payment they had was in the form of blows if they complained.The payment after they had supplied a meal of curd and milk with bread and fruit completely altered their demeanour, and upon its being intimated that a boat was required to take their visitors over to Ansina, quite a dispute arose between the owners of two as to which should have the honour and profit; but all was at length settled amicably by Yussuf, and that evening, fairly provisioned by the combined aid of the tiny village, the best of the boats hoisted its sails, and the shores of Cyprus began to look dim as the night fell, and the travellers were once more on their way.The winds were so light and contrary that it was not until the evening of the third day that they were well in sight of the country that was to be the scene of their journeyings for many months to come; and then, as they neared Ansina, it was to see a scattered town that seemed as if of marble beyond the purple sea, while beyond the town lay to right and left a fairy-like realm of green and gold, beyond which again lay range upon range of amethystine mountains, above which in turn were peaks of dazzling white, save where the evening sun was gilding salient points of a pure pale gold.The run had been very pleasant in spite of the cramped accommodation, for the little crew were a kindly simple people, whose countenances invited trust, and though the fare on board had been scant, yet it was wholesome and good, as the rest the travellers had found was grateful.So satisfactory was this part of the trip that Mr Burne forgot about his back, and as he stood gazing at the glorious panorama, indulging in an occasional pinch of snuff, he suddenly whisked out his handkerchief and blew a clarion blast which made the boatmen start.“Hah!” he exclaimed suddenly; “this will do. I tell you what it is, Preston; when I get back I shall start a company for the reclamation of this country. It must be taken from the Turks, and we must have a new English colony here.”“The first Roman who saw the place must have felt something like you do about his native land,” said the professor.“Oh, the Romans had a colony here, had they?”“Yes; and the Greeks before them.”“Humph!” ejaculated the old lawyer, as he let his eyes wander from spot to spot glowing in the sinking sun, and growing more beautiful as they advanced. “Well, I always had, as a boy, a most decided objection to the Greeks and Romans, and I used to wish that, when they died out, their tongues had been buried with them instead of being left behind to pester schoolboys; but now I am beginning to respect them, for they must have known what they were about to settle in such a land as this. Lovely, eh, Lawrence?”“Grand!” was the reply uttered in enraptured tones; “but don’t talk to me, please, I feel as if I could do nothing else but look.”The professor smiled and joined him in drinking in the beauty of the scene, till the little felucca sailed in under the shelter of a large stone wall that formed part of the ancient port. Here they found themselves face to face with the handiwork of one of the great nations of antiquity, this having been a city of the Greeks, before the Romans planted their conquering feet here, to die away leaving their broken columns, ruined temples, and traces of their circus and aqueducts, among which the mingled race of Turks and present-day Greeks had raised the shabby village, more than town, that clustered about the port.“Safe ashore at last,” said the professor as he stepped on to a large block of squared stone in which was secured with lead an ancient ring. “Now, Lawrence, our travels are to begin. How do you feel? ready for plenty of adventure?”“Yes, quite,” was the reply.“Then, first of all, for a comfortable resting-place. To-morrow we will see the resident, and then make preparations for our start.”“Humph!” ejaculated Mr Burne; and he blew his nose in a way never heard in Asia Minor before.
Mr Burne showed no more distrust, though Yussuf was striding away faster and faster, at a rate that Lawrence’s strength forbade him to attempt to emulate; but the reason soon became evident. He was making for an elevation about a mile away, and upon reaching it he toiled up to the top, and as soon as he had done so he turned and took off his fez and began to wave it in the air.
“He has found out something,” said the professor.
“If it is a hotel where we can get a good breakfast he shall have my advice for nothing any time he likes to come and ask it,” said Mr Burne, rubbing his hands.
“In London?” said the professor.
“Anywhere, sir. There, that will do. Don’t swing your arms about like that,” he continued, addressing the guide, who was of course far out of hearing. “Anyone would think that because he was right on the top of a hill he had caught the wind-mill complaint.”
The three travellers were almost as much excited as Yussuf, and hurried on, Lawrence forgetting his weakness in the interest of the moment, so that it was not long before they reached the top—hot, breathless, and panting with exertion.
Their guide pointed to what appeared to be a group of huts a long way off.
“Is that all?” grumbled the old lawyer. “I thought you had found a place where we could have a comfortable meal.”
“There will be bread, and fruit, and a boat, excellency,” said Yussuf quietly; “and these are what you want, are they not?”
“I suppose so,” replied Mr Burne, gazing forward at what now appeared to be a cluster of small houses by the sea-shore, backed by a dense grove of trees, while in front, and about a quarter of a mile from the sands, lay three small boats. “It is not a desert place then,” he grumbled, as they all went on together. “How far is it to that cluster of hovels?”
“About two miles, excellency.”
“About two miles, and before breakfast,” muttered the old fellow sourly; but he drew a long breath as if he were trying to master his disinclination, and then turning to Lawrence with a grim smile he cried, “Now, look here, cripple against invalid, I’ll race you; fair walking, and Mr Preston to be umpire. One—two—three—off.”
It was a fair walk of about an hour before they entered the cluster of huts, each surrounded by a good-sized fruit garden, the people standing outside and staring hard at the strange visitors who came along the shore, one of whom plumped himself upon the edge of a boat that was drawn up on the sands, another throwing himself down, hot and panting with exertion, while the two who were left a little way behind strode up more leisurely, one of them to ask for refreshment and a resting-place out of the sun.
“There is no mistake about it, Lawrence,” cried the professor eagerly, “you couldn’t have done that in England.”
Lawrence laughed.
“But I am completely tired out,” he exclaimed, wiping his face. “I could not have gone any further.”
“Neither could I,” groaned Mr Burne. “Oh, my back, my back! Who won, Preston?”
“A dead heat, decidedly,” said the professor laughing; but he was watching Lawrence the while very attentively, and asking himself whether he was letting the lad over-exert himself.
One thing, however, was plain enough, and that was that the sick lad had been allowed to droop and mope in his ailment. The serious disease was there, of course, but he had been nursed up and coddled to a terrible extent, and this had made him far worse than he would have been had he led an active country life, or been induced to exert himself a little instead of lying in bed or upon a couch day after day.
The people seemed disposed to resent the coming of the strangers at first, and declined to supply them with either food or a resting-place, till Yussuf drew out some money, and assured them that they would be paid for everything that was eaten. Then they grew more civil, and Yussuf explained to his employers that the reason for the people’s churlishness was, that they were often obliged to supply food or work by some tyrannical government officer or another, and the only payment they had was in the form of blows if they complained.
The payment after they had supplied a meal of curd and milk with bread and fruit completely altered their demeanour, and upon its being intimated that a boat was required to take their visitors over to Ansina, quite a dispute arose between the owners of two as to which should have the honour and profit; but all was at length settled amicably by Yussuf, and that evening, fairly provisioned by the combined aid of the tiny village, the best of the boats hoisted its sails, and the shores of Cyprus began to look dim as the night fell, and the travellers were once more on their way.
The winds were so light and contrary that it was not until the evening of the third day that they were well in sight of the country that was to be the scene of their journeyings for many months to come; and then, as they neared Ansina, it was to see a scattered town that seemed as if of marble beyond the purple sea, while beyond the town lay to right and left a fairy-like realm of green and gold, beyond which again lay range upon range of amethystine mountains, above which in turn were peaks of dazzling white, save where the evening sun was gilding salient points of a pure pale gold.
The run had been very pleasant in spite of the cramped accommodation, for the little crew were a kindly simple people, whose countenances invited trust, and though the fare on board had been scant, yet it was wholesome and good, as the rest the travellers had found was grateful.
So satisfactory was this part of the trip that Mr Burne forgot about his back, and as he stood gazing at the glorious panorama, indulging in an occasional pinch of snuff, he suddenly whisked out his handkerchief and blew a clarion blast which made the boatmen start.
“Hah!” he exclaimed suddenly; “this will do. I tell you what it is, Preston; when I get back I shall start a company for the reclamation of this country. It must be taken from the Turks, and we must have a new English colony here.”
“The first Roman who saw the place must have felt something like you do about his native land,” said the professor.
“Oh, the Romans had a colony here, had they?”
“Yes; and the Greeks before them.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the old lawyer, as he let his eyes wander from spot to spot glowing in the sinking sun, and growing more beautiful as they advanced. “Well, I always had, as a boy, a most decided objection to the Greeks and Romans, and I used to wish that, when they died out, their tongues had been buried with them instead of being left behind to pester schoolboys; but now I am beginning to respect them, for they must have known what they were about to settle in such a land as this. Lovely, eh, Lawrence?”
“Grand!” was the reply uttered in enraptured tones; “but don’t talk to me, please, I feel as if I could do nothing else but look.”
The professor smiled and joined him in drinking in the beauty of the scene, till the little felucca sailed in under the shelter of a large stone wall that formed part of the ancient port. Here they found themselves face to face with the handiwork of one of the great nations of antiquity, this having been a city of the Greeks, before the Romans planted their conquering feet here, to die away leaving their broken columns, ruined temples, and traces of their circus and aqueducts, among which the mingled race of Turks and present-day Greeks had raised the shabby village, more than town, that clustered about the port.
“Safe ashore at last,” said the professor as he stepped on to a large block of squared stone in which was secured with lead an ancient ring. “Now, Lawrence, our travels are to begin. How do you feel? ready for plenty of adventure?”
“Yes, quite,” was the reply.
“Then, first of all, for a comfortable resting-place. To-morrow we will see the resident, and then make preparations for our start.”
“Humph!” ejaculated Mr Burne; and he blew his nose in a way never heard in Asia Minor before.
Chapter Seventeen.Preparations for a Journey.Lawrence Grange left England as weak and helpless in mind as he was in body; but, in the brief period that had elapsed, his mind had rapidly recovered its balance, and, leaving his body behind, had strengthened so that, eager and bright, and urged on by the glorious novelty of the things he saw, his spirit was now always setting his body tasks that it could not perform.“I’m sure I am getting worse,” he said one morning, after returning from having a delicious bathe down by the ruins of the old port. “I never felt so weak as this in England.”The professor burst into a hearty fit of laughter, in which the old lawyer joined, and then took snuff and snapped his fingers till both his companions sneezed.“I say,” cried Lawrence, “isn’t it cruel of you two, laughing at a poor fellow for what he cannot help.”He looked so piteously at them that they both grew serious directly.“Why, my dear boy,” cried Mr Preston, “can you not see that you keep on overtasking yourself? Growing worse! Now, be reasonable; you had to be carried down to the fly in London; the porters carried you to the first-class carriage in which you went down by rail, and you were carried to the steamer.”“Yes,” said Lawrence sadly; “that is true, but I did not feel so weak as this.”“Get out, you young cock-goose!” cried Mr Burne. “Why, you have been bathing, and you haven’t had your breakfast yet.”“And you are mistaking fatigue for weakness,” said the professor.“Of course,” cried Mr Burne. “Why, look here. You were out nearly all day yesterday with us or with Yussuf looking at ruins, going over the place, and seeing about the horses, and now, as soon as you woke this morning, you were off with Preston here to kick and splash about in the water. Weak? what nonsense! Oh, here’s Yussuf. Here, hi! you grand Turk, what do you say about this boy? He thinks he is not so well.”“The young effendi?” cried Yussuf. “Oh! I have been out this morning to see some other horses, excellencies, that are far better than any we have yet seen. They are rough, sturdy little fellows from the mountains, and you ought to buy these.”“Buy or hire?” said the professor.“Buy, excellency. You will feed and treat them well, and at the end they will be worth as much if not more than you gave for them. Besides, if you hire horses, they will be inferior, and you will be always changing and riding fresh beasts.”“Yes, of course,” said the old lawyer; “but there is no risk.”“Your excellency will pardon me, there will be more risks. We shall traverse many dangerous mountain paths, and a man should know his horse and his horse know him. They should be good friends, and take care of each other. A Turkish horse loves the hand that feeds him, the master that rides upon his back.”“I am sure you are right, Yussuf,” said the professor. “We will go by your advice and buy the horses.”“Here, hold hard!” cried Mr Burne. “Look here. Do you mean to tell me that I am expected to ride a horse along a dangerous mountain road? I mean a shelf over a precipice.”“Certainly, your excellency, the roads are very bad.”“You do not feel nervous about that, do you, Burne?” said the professor.“Oh, dear me, no, not at all,” cried the old lawyer sarcastically. “Go on. I’ve had a pretty good hardening already, what with knocking on the head, drowning, shipwrecking, starving, and walking off my legs.”“But, if you really object to our programme, we will try some easier route,” said the professor.“Oh, by no means, sir, by no means. I have only one thing to say. I see you have made up your mind to kill me, and I only make one proviso, and that is, that you shall take me back to England to bury me decently. I will not—I distinctly say it—I will not stay here.”“Your excellency shall come to no harm,” said Yussuf, “if I can prevent it. With care and good horses there is very little risk.”“How soon shall we go to see the horses?” cried Lawrence eagerly.“When you have been lying up for a month,” replied Mr Burne gruffly. “You are too weak, and going back too much to venture out any more.”“Till you have had a good breakfast,” said the professor, laughing as he saw the lad’s look of keen disappointment; and they sat down at once to a capital meal.For they had been a week in Ansina, and were comfortably lodged in the house of a Turk whom Yussuf had recommended, and who, in a grave way, attended carefully to their wants. The luggage sent on by steamer had arrived safely, and, with the exception of the few things lost in the felucca, they were very little the worse for their mishap.So far they had been delayed by the difficulty of obtaining horses, but now the opportunity had come for obtaining what was necessary, walking being out of the question, and the only means of traversing the rugged country, that was to be the scene of their ramblings, was by the help of a sure-footed horse.Lawrence forgot all about his weakness as soon as breakfast was over, and started off with his companions to see the animals that were for sale.They were at an outlying place a couple of miles away from their lodgings, and the walk in the delicious autumn air was most enjoyable. In the distance was the mysterious soft blue range of mountains that they were to penetrate for some six weeks, before the season grew too advanced, and to Lawrence it was a perfect wonderland that was to prove full of sights that would astound, adventures that would thrill; and, could he have had his way, he would have set off at once, and without all the tedious preparations that Yussuf deemed necessary.The first mile of their way was uninteresting. Then they entered a little valley with precipitous sides, their path running by the side of a beautiful little stream, which they had to cross again and again; but their progress was not rapid, for Mr Burne always stopped to examine the pools and talk about how fond he had been of fishing when he was a boy.Farther on they kept coming to little houses pleasantly situated in gardens, very much as might be seen in the suburbs of an English town, for these were the country houses of the wealthy Turks of the place, who came and dwelt here in the hot times of the summer.There was a great similarity about these places. Houses and walls were built of fine, large, well-squared blocks of stone and marble, with every here and there a trace of carving visible—all showing that the Turk’s quarry was the ruined Roman city, which offered an almost inexhaustible supply.These little estates were either just above the river, perched on one side, or so arranged that the stream ran right through the grounds, rippling amongst velvety grass lawns, overshadowed by great walnuts, with mulberry and plum trees in abundance.“Hi, stop a moment,” cried Mr Burne, as they reached one beautiful clump of trees, quite a grove, whose leaves were waving in the soft mountain-breeze.“What have you found?” said the professor, as Lawrence hurried up.“That, sir, that,” cried Mr Burne. “See these trees.”“Yes,” said the professor, “a magnificent clump of planes—what a huge size!”“Exactly,” said the old lawyer. “Now, do you see what that proves?”“What—the presence of those trees?”“Yes, sir,” said the old lawyer dogmatically. “They show, sir, that the Turk is a much-abused man. People say that he never advances, but you see he does.”“How?” said the professor, “by being too lazy to quarry stone or marble in these mountains, where they abound, and building his house out of the edifices raised by better men?”“No, sir; by following our example, importing from us, and planting walnut-trees and these magnificent planes all about his place. Look at these! Why, I could almost fancy myself in Gray’s Inn Gardens.”“My dear Burne, are you serious?”“Serious, sir? Never more so in my life. They are beautiful.”“Yes, they are very beautiful,” said the professor drily. “But I always thought that these trees were the natives of this country, and that instead of the Turks imitating us, we had seen the beauty of these trees, and transplanted some of them when young to our own land.”“Absurd!” said the old lawyer dictatorially, and he was about to say more when Yussuf stopped at a rough kind of inclosure, where a Turk was seated upon the grass beneath a shady tree smoking thoughtfully, and apparently paying no heed to the new-comers.“The horses are here,” he said; and upon being spoken to, the Turk rose, laid aside his pipe, and bowed.It was not a long business, for Yussuf and the owner of the horses were compatriots, but Lawrence stared at the animals in dismay when he followed his companions into the inclosure. He had pictured to himself so many lovely flowing-maned creatures of Arab descent, large-eyed, wide of nostril, and with arched necks, and tails that swept the ground. He expected to see them toss up their heads and snort, and dash off wildly, but on the contrary the dozen horses that were in the inclosure went quietly on with their grazing in the most business-like manner, and when a boy was sent to drive them up, they proved to be shaggy, heavy-headed, rather dejected-looking animals, with not an attractive point about them.“Surely you will not buy any of these, Preston,” said Mr Burne. “I do not understand horses, but those seem to be a very shabby lot.”“They are young, effendi, healthy and strong,” said Yussuf gravely. “They are accustomed to the mountains, and that is what we require. Large, handsome horses, such as you see in the desert or at Istamboul, would be useless here.”“There, I am not going to doubt your knowing best,” said Mr Burne quietly; and the bargain was made, four being selected for riding, and two that were heavier and stronger for baggage animals.Arrangements were made for the horses to be driven before them down to Ansina, and as soon as the six purchased were driven out of the inclosure their companions trotted up, thrust their heads over a bar, and whinnied a farewell, while the others seemed to be in high glee at the change. They threw up their heads and snorted; and one that was of a cream colour, and the smallest of the lot, began to display a playfulness that upset all the rest. The way he displayed his humour was by stretching out his neck, baring his teeth, and running at and biting his companions in turn—a trick which necessitated a good deal of agility, for the other horses resented the attacks by presenting their heels to their playful companion for inspection—a proceeding of which he did not at all approve.All went well, however, the animals were safely stowed away in the stable prepared for their use, and each was soon busy at work grinding up the barley served out for his particular benefit, oats being a luxury they were not called upon to enjoy.
Lawrence Grange left England as weak and helpless in mind as he was in body; but, in the brief period that had elapsed, his mind had rapidly recovered its balance, and, leaving his body behind, had strengthened so that, eager and bright, and urged on by the glorious novelty of the things he saw, his spirit was now always setting his body tasks that it could not perform.
“I’m sure I am getting worse,” he said one morning, after returning from having a delicious bathe down by the ruins of the old port. “I never felt so weak as this in England.”
The professor burst into a hearty fit of laughter, in which the old lawyer joined, and then took snuff and snapped his fingers till both his companions sneezed.
“I say,” cried Lawrence, “isn’t it cruel of you two, laughing at a poor fellow for what he cannot help.”
He looked so piteously at them that they both grew serious directly.
“Why, my dear boy,” cried Mr Preston, “can you not see that you keep on overtasking yourself? Growing worse! Now, be reasonable; you had to be carried down to the fly in London; the porters carried you to the first-class carriage in which you went down by rail, and you were carried to the steamer.”
“Yes,” said Lawrence sadly; “that is true, but I did not feel so weak as this.”
“Get out, you young cock-goose!” cried Mr Burne. “Why, you have been bathing, and you haven’t had your breakfast yet.”
“And you are mistaking fatigue for weakness,” said the professor.
“Of course,” cried Mr Burne. “Why, look here. You were out nearly all day yesterday with us or with Yussuf looking at ruins, going over the place, and seeing about the horses, and now, as soon as you woke this morning, you were off with Preston here to kick and splash about in the water. Weak? what nonsense! Oh, here’s Yussuf. Here, hi! you grand Turk, what do you say about this boy? He thinks he is not so well.”
“The young effendi?” cried Yussuf. “Oh! I have been out this morning to see some other horses, excellencies, that are far better than any we have yet seen. They are rough, sturdy little fellows from the mountains, and you ought to buy these.”
“Buy or hire?” said the professor.
“Buy, excellency. You will feed and treat them well, and at the end they will be worth as much if not more than you gave for them. Besides, if you hire horses, they will be inferior, and you will be always changing and riding fresh beasts.”
“Yes, of course,” said the old lawyer; “but there is no risk.”
“Your excellency will pardon me, there will be more risks. We shall traverse many dangerous mountain paths, and a man should know his horse and his horse know him. They should be good friends, and take care of each other. A Turkish horse loves the hand that feeds him, the master that rides upon his back.”
“I am sure you are right, Yussuf,” said the professor. “We will go by your advice and buy the horses.”
“Here, hold hard!” cried Mr Burne. “Look here. Do you mean to tell me that I am expected to ride a horse along a dangerous mountain road? I mean a shelf over a precipice.”
“Certainly, your excellency, the roads are very bad.”
“You do not feel nervous about that, do you, Burne?” said the professor.
“Oh, dear me, no, not at all,” cried the old lawyer sarcastically. “Go on. I’ve had a pretty good hardening already, what with knocking on the head, drowning, shipwrecking, starving, and walking off my legs.”
“But, if you really object to our programme, we will try some easier route,” said the professor.
“Oh, by no means, sir, by no means. I have only one thing to say. I see you have made up your mind to kill me, and I only make one proviso, and that is, that you shall take me back to England to bury me decently. I will not—I distinctly say it—I will not stay here.”
“Your excellency shall come to no harm,” said Yussuf, “if I can prevent it. With care and good horses there is very little risk.”
“How soon shall we go to see the horses?” cried Lawrence eagerly.
“When you have been lying up for a month,” replied Mr Burne gruffly. “You are too weak, and going back too much to venture out any more.”
“Till you have had a good breakfast,” said the professor, laughing as he saw the lad’s look of keen disappointment; and they sat down at once to a capital meal.
For they had been a week in Ansina, and were comfortably lodged in the house of a Turk whom Yussuf had recommended, and who, in a grave way, attended carefully to their wants. The luggage sent on by steamer had arrived safely, and, with the exception of the few things lost in the felucca, they were very little the worse for their mishap.
So far they had been delayed by the difficulty of obtaining horses, but now the opportunity had come for obtaining what was necessary, walking being out of the question, and the only means of traversing the rugged country, that was to be the scene of their ramblings, was by the help of a sure-footed horse.
Lawrence forgot all about his weakness as soon as breakfast was over, and started off with his companions to see the animals that were for sale.
They were at an outlying place a couple of miles away from their lodgings, and the walk in the delicious autumn air was most enjoyable. In the distance was the mysterious soft blue range of mountains that they were to penetrate for some six weeks, before the season grew too advanced, and to Lawrence it was a perfect wonderland that was to prove full of sights that would astound, adventures that would thrill; and, could he have had his way, he would have set off at once, and without all the tedious preparations that Yussuf deemed necessary.
The first mile of their way was uninteresting. Then they entered a little valley with precipitous sides, their path running by the side of a beautiful little stream, which they had to cross again and again; but their progress was not rapid, for Mr Burne always stopped to examine the pools and talk about how fond he had been of fishing when he was a boy.
Farther on they kept coming to little houses pleasantly situated in gardens, very much as might be seen in the suburbs of an English town, for these were the country houses of the wealthy Turks of the place, who came and dwelt here in the hot times of the summer.
There was a great similarity about these places. Houses and walls were built of fine, large, well-squared blocks of stone and marble, with every here and there a trace of carving visible—all showing that the Turk’s quarry was the ruined Roman city, which offered an almost inexhaustible supply.
These little estates were either just above the river, perched on one side, or so arranged that the stream ran right through the grounds, rippling amongst velvety grass lawns, overshadowed by great walnuts, with mulberry and plum trees in abundance.
“Hi, stop a moment,” cried Mr Burne, as they reached one beautiful clump of trees, quite a grove, whose leaves were waving in the soft mountain-breeze.
“What have you found?” said the professor, as Lawrence hurried up.
“That, sir, that,” cried Mr Burne. “See these trees.”
“Yes,” said the professor, “a magnificent clump of planes—what a huge size!”
“Exactly,” said the old lawyer. “Now, do you see what that proves?”
“What—the presence of those trees?”
“Yes, sir,” said the old lawyer dogmatically. “They show, sir, that the Turk is a much-abused man. People say that he never advances, but you see he does.”
“How?” said the professor, “by being too lazy to quarry stone or marble in these mountains, where they abound, and building his house out of the edifices raised by better men?”
“No, sir; by following our example, importing from us, and planting walnut-trees and these magnificent planes all about his place. Look at these! Why, I could almost fancy myself in Gray’s Inn Gardens.”
“My dear Burne, are you serious?”
“Serious, sir? Never more so in my life. They are beautiful.”
“Yes, they are very beautiful,” said the professor drily. “But I always thought that these trees were the natives of this country, and that instead of the Turks imitating us, we had seen the beauty of these trees, and transplanted some of them when young to our own land.”
“Absurd!” said the old lawyer dictatorially, and he was about to say more when Yussuf stopped at a rough kind of inclosure, where a Turk was seated upon the grass beneath a shady tree smoking thoughtfully, and apparently paying no heed to the new-comers.
“The horses are here,” he said; and upon being spoken to, the Turk rose, laid aside his pipe, and bowed.
It was not a long business, for Yussuf and the owner of the horses were compatriots, but Lawrence stared at the animals in dismay when he followed his companions into the inclosure. He had pictured to himself so many lovely flowing-maned creatures of Arab descent, large-eyed, wide of nostril, and with arched necks, and tails that swept the ground. He expected to see them toss up their heads and snort, and dash off wildly, but on the contrary the dozen horses that were in the inclosure went quietly on with their grazing in the most business-like manner, and when a boy was sent to drive them up, they proved to be shaggy, heavy-headed, rather dejected-looking animals, with not an attractive point about them.
“Surely you will not buy any of these, Preston,” said Mr Burne. “I do not understand horses, but those seem to be a very shabby lot.”
“They are young, effendi, healthy and strong,” said Yussuf gravely. “They are accustomed to the mountains, and that is what we require. Large, handsome horses, such as you see in the desert or at Istamboul, would be useless here.”
“There, I am not going to doubt your knowing best,” said Mr Burne quietly; and the bargain was made, four being selected for riding, and two that were heavier and stronger for baggage animals.
Arrangements were made for the horses to be driven before them down to Ansina, and as soon as the six purchased were driven out of the inclosure their companions trotted up, thrust their heads over a bar, and whinnied a farewell, while the others seemed to be in high glee at the change. They threw up their heads and snorted; and one that was of a cream colour, and the smallest of the lot, began to display a playfulness that upset all the rest. The way he displayed his humour was by stretching out his neck, baring his teeth, and running at and biting his companions in turn—a trick which necessitated a good deal of agility, for the other horses resented the attacks by presenting their heels to their playful companion for inspection—a proceeding of which he did not at all approve.
All went well, however, the animals were safely stowed away in the stable prepared for their use, and each was soon busy at work grinding up the barley served out for his particular benefit, oats being a luxury they were not called upon to enjoy.
Chapter Eighteen.Mr Burne blows his Nose.“At last!” cried Lawrence, as they set off for their first incursion. Two more days had been occupied in purchasing stores, saddlery, and other necessaries for their trip, and, as the lad said, at last they were off.The start of the party excited no surprise in the little town. It was nothing to the people there to see four well-armed travellers set off, followed by a sturdy peasant, who had charge of the two heavily-laden pack-horses, for, in addition to the personal luggage and provisions of the travellers, with their spare ammunition, it was absolutely necessary to take a supply of barley sufficient to give the horses a good feed, or two, in case of being stranded in any spot where grain was scarce.The heat was very great as they rode on over the plain, and Mr Burne’s pocket-handkerchief was always busy either to help him sound an alarm, to wipe the perspiration from his brow, or to whisk away the flies from himself and horse.“It’s enough to make a man wish he had a bushy tail,” he said, after an exasperated dash at a little cloud of insects. “Peugh! what a number of nuisances there are in the land!”But in a short time, enjoying the beautiful prospects spread around, they rode into a wooded valley, where the trees hung low, and, as they passed under the branches, the trouble from the virulent and hungry flies grew less.The ascent was gradual, and after a few miles the woodland part ceased, and they found themselves upon a plain once more, but from the state of the atmosphere it was evidently far more elevated than that where the town lay. Here for miles and miles they rode through clover and wild flowers that lay as thick as the buttercups in an English meadow. But in addition to patches of golden hue there were tracts of mauve and scarlet and crimson and blue, till the eyes seemed to ache with the profusion of colour.So far the ride had been most unadventurous. Not a house had been seen after they had quitted the outskirts of the town, nothing but waste land, if that could be called waste where the richest of grasses and clovers with endless wild flowers abounded.At mid-day a halt was made beneath a tremendous walnut-tree growing near a spring which trickled from the side of a hill; and now the horses were allowed to graze in the abundant clover, while the little party made their meal and rested till the heat of the day was past.Here Yussuf pointed out their resting-place for the night—a spot that lay amid the mountains on their right, apparently not far off; but the Muslim explained that it would be a long journey, and that they must not expect to reach it before dark.After a couple of hours the horses were loaded again, and sent on first with their driver, while the travellers followed more leisurely along the faint track for it could hardly be called a road. The second plain was soon left behind, and their way lay among the hills, valley after valley winding in and out; and as fast as one eminence was skirted others appearing, each more elevated than the last, while the scenery grew wilder and more grand.The little horses were behaving very well, trudging along sturdily with their riders, and every hour proving more and more the value of Yussuf’s choice. There was no restiveness or skittish behaviour, save that once or twice the little cream-coloured fellow which Lawrence had selected for himself and christened Ali Baba had shown a disposition to bite one of his companions. He soon gave up, though, and walked or trotted steadily on in the file, Yussuf leading, the professor coming next, then Lawrence, and Mr Burne last.They stopped at various points of the rising road to study the grand patches of cedars, clumps of planes low down in the valleys, and the slopes of pines, while in the groves the thrushes sang, and the blackbirds piped as familiarly as if it was some spot in Devonshire instead of Asia Minor. Then a diversion was made here and there to examine some spring or the edge of a ravine where a stream ran. There was plenty of time for this, as the two baggage-horses had to be studied, and they were soon overtaken after one of these rides.But at last a visit to a few stones on a hillside, which had evidently been a watch-tower in some old period of this country’s history, took up so much time that the man with the baggage was a good hour’s journey ahead; and as they reached the track once more Yussuf turned to ask the professor whether he thought the invalid could bear the motion if he led the way at a trot.The professor turned to ask Lawrence, who replied that he believed he could, and then something happened.The professor had hardly spoken and obtained his reply before Mr Burne, who had been refreshing himself with a pinch of snuff, whisked out his handkerchief according to his custom.They were now going along a valley which ran between too highish walls of rock, dotted here and there with trees—just the sort of place, in fact, where anyone would be disposed to shout aloud to try if there was an echo; but the idea had not occurred to either of the travellers, whose thoughts were bent upon overtaking the baggage animals with their stores, when quite unexpectedly Mr Burne applied his handkerchief to his face and blew his nose.It was not one of his finest blasts, there was less thunder in it, and more high-pitched horn-like music, but the effect was electrical.There was an echo in that valley, and this echo took up the sound, repeated it, and seemed to send it on to a signalling station higher up, where it was caught and sent on again, and then again and again, each repetition growing weaker and softer than the last.But only one of these echoes was heard by the travellers, for, as afore said, the effect was electrical.The moment that blast was blown behind him, Ali Baba, Lawrence’s cream-coloured horse, threw up his head, then lowered it, and lifted his heels, sending his rider nearly out of his saddle, uttered a peculiar squeal, and set off at a gallop.The squeal and the noise of the hoofs acted like magic upon the other three horses, and away they went, all four as hard as they could go at full gallop, utterly regardless of the pulling and tugging that went on at their bits.This wild stampede went on along the valley for quite a quarter of an hour before Yussuf was able to check his steed’s headlong career; and it was none too soon, for the smooth track along the valley was rapidly giving way to a steep descent strewed with blocks of limestone, and to have attempted to gallop down there must have resulted in a serious fall.As it was, Yussuf was only a few yards from a great mass of rock when his hard-mouthed steed was checked; and as the squeal of one had been sufficient to start the others, who had all their early lives been accustomed to run together in a drove, so the stopping of one had the effect of checking the rest, and they stood together shaking their ears and pawing the ground.As soon as he could get his breath, Lawrence began to laugh, and Mr Preston followed his lead, while the grave Muslim could not forbear a smile at Mr Burne. This worthy’s straw hat had been flying behind, hanging from his neck by a lanyard, while he stood up in his stirrups, craned his neck forward, and held his pocket-handkerchief whip fashion, though it more resembled an orange streak of light as it streamed behind; while now, as soon as the horse had stopped, he climbed out of the saddle, walked two or three steps, and then sat down and stared as if he had been startled out of his senses.“Not hurt, I hope, Burne,” said the professor kindly.“Hurt, sir—hurt? Why, that brute must be mad. He literally flew with me, and I might as well have pulled at Saint Paul’s as try to stop him. Good gracious me! I’m shaken into a jelly.”“Mine was just as hard-mouthed,” said the professor.“Hard-mouthed? say iron-mouthed while you are about it. And look here, Lawrence, don’t you make your pony play such tricks again.”“I did nothing, sir,” expostulated Lawrence.“Nonsense, sir! don’t tell me. I saw you tickle him with your hand behind the saddle.”“But, Mr Burne—”“Don’t interrupt and contradict, sir. I distinctly saw you do it, and then the nasty brute kicked up his heels, and squealed, and frightened the others.”“But, Mr Burne—”“Don’t prevaricate, sir, I saw you, and when that brute squealed out you could hear the noise go echoing all down the valley.”In the most innocent manner—having his handkerchief out of his pocket—the old lawyer applied it to his nose and gave another blast, the result being that the horses nearly went off again; but Yussuf caught Mr Burne’s steed, and the professor and Lawrence managed to hold theirs in, but not without difficulty.“What! were you doing it again?” cried Mr Burne angrily.“My dear Burne—no, no; pray, don’t do that,” cried the professor. “Don’t you see that it was you who startled the animals off?”“I startle them? I? What nonsense!”“But indeed you did, when you blew your nose so loudly.”“Blew my nose so loudly! Did I blow my nose so loudly?”“Did you? why it was you who raised that echo.”“I? Raised that echo? My dear sir, are you dreaming?”“Dreaming? No! A ride like that upon a rough Turkish horse does not conduce to dreaming. My dear Burne, did you not know that you made that noise?”“Noise? What, when I blew my nose, or when I took snuff?”Lawrence could not contain himself, but burst into another tremendous fit of laughter, while, when the old lawyer looked up at him angrily, and then glanced at Yussuf, it was to see that the latter had turned his face away, and was apparently busily rearranging the bridle of his horse.“But I say, Preston,” said the old lawyer then, “do you really mean to say that I made enough noise to frighten the horses? I thought it was Lawrence there tickling that biting beast of his.”“But I did not tickle him, Mr Burne,” protested Lawrence.“Bless my heart, it’s very strange! What do you say, Preston?—you don’t answer me. It is very strange.”“Strange indeed that you do not recognise the fact that the tremendous noise you made in your pocket-handkerchief started the horses.”The old gentleman looked round; then at the horses; then in his handkerchief; and back at the horses again.“I—er—I—er—I really cannot believe it possible, Preston; I blow my nose so softly,” he said quite seriously. “Would you—there—don’t think I slight your word—but—er—would you mind—I’m afraid, you see, that you are mistaken—would you mind my trying the horses?”“By no means,” said the professor smiling.“I will then,” said the old gentleman eagerly; and going up to the horses, yellow handkerchief in hand held loosely as if he were about to use it, he slowly advanced it to each animal’s nose.They neither of them winced, Lawrence’s cream colour going so far as to reach out and try to take hold of it with his lips, evidently under the impression that it was some delicate kind of Turkish dried hay.“There,” said Mr Burne triumphantly; “you see! They are not frightened at the handkerchief.”“Walk behind,” said the professor, “and blow your nose—blow gently.”The old gentleman hesitated for a moment, and then blew as was suggested, not so loudly as before, but a fairly sonorous blow.The horses all made a plunge, and had to be held in and patted before they could be calmed down again.“What ridiculous brutes!” exclaimed Mr Burne contemptuously. “How absurd!”“You are satisfied, then?” said the professor.“I cannot help being,” replied Mr Burne. “Bless my heart! It is ridiculous.”“I am growing anxious, your excellencies,” said Yussuf interrupting. “The time is getting on, and I want to overtake the baggage-horses. Will you please to mount, sir?”“Bless me, Yussuf,” cried Mr Burne testily; “anyone would think that this was your excursion and not ours.”“Your pardon, effendi, but it will be bad if the night overtakes us and we have not found our baggage. Perhaps we may have to sleep at a khan where there is no food.”“When we have plenty with the baggage. To be sure. But must I mount that animal again? I am shaken to pieces. There, hold his head.”The old gentleman uttered a sigh, but he placed his foot in the stirrup and mounted slowly, not easily, for the horse was nervous now, and seemed as if it half suspected his rider of being the cause of that startling noise.
“At last!” cried Lawrence, as they set off for their first incursion. Two more days had been occupied in purchasing stores, saddlery, and other necessaries for their trip, and, as the lad said, at last they were off.
The start of the party excited no surprise in the little town. It was nothing to the people there to see four well-armed travellers set off, followed by a sturdy peasant, who had charge of the two heavily-laden pack-horses, for, in addition to the personal luggage and provisions of the travellers, with their spare ammunition, it was absolutely necessary to take a supply of barley sufficient to give the horses a good feed, or two, in case of being stranded in any spot where grain was scarce.
The heat was very great as they rode on over the plain, and Mr Burne’s pocket-handkerchief was always busy either to help him sound an alarm, to wipe the perspiration from his brow, or to whisk away the flies from himself and horse.
“It’s enough to make a man wish he had a bushy tail,” he said, after an exasperated dash at a little cloud of insects. “Peugh! what a number of nuisances there are in the land!”
But in a short time, enjoying the beautiful prospects spread around, they rode into a wooded valley, where the trees hung low, and, as they passed under the branches, the trouble from the virulent and hungry flies grew less.
The ascent was gradual, and after a few miles the woodland part ceased, and they found themselves upon a plain once more, but from the state of the atmosphere it was evidently far more elevated than that where the town lay. Here for miles and miles they rode through clover and wild flowers that lay as thick as the buttercups in an English meadow. But in addition to patches of golden hue there were tracts of mauve and scarlet and crimson and blue, till the eyes seemed to ache with the profusion of colour.
So far the ride had been most unadventurous. Not a house had been seen after they had quitted the outskirts of the town, nothing but waste land, if that could be called waste where the richest of grasses and clovers with endless wild flowers abounded.
At mid-day a halt was made beneath a tremendous walnut-tree growing near a spring which trickled from the side of a hill; and now the horses were allowed to graze in the abundant clover, while the little party made their meal and rested till the heat of the day was past.
Here Yussuf pointed out their resting-place for the night—a spot that lay amid the mountains on their right, apparently not far off; but the Muslim explained that it would be a long journey, and that they must not expect to reach it before dark.
After a couple of hours the horses were loaded again, and sent on first with their driver, while the travellers followed more leisurely along the faint track for it could hardly be called a road. The second plain was soon left behind, and their way lay among the hills, valley after valley winding in and out; and as fast as one eminence was skirted others appearing, each more elevated than the last, while the scenery grew wilder and more grand.
The little horses were behaving very well, trudging along sturdily with their riders, and every hour proving more and more the value of Yussuf’s choice. There was no restiveness or skittish behaviour, save that once or twice the little cream-coloured fellow which Lawrence had selected for himself and christened Ali Baba had shown a disposition to bite one of his companions. He soon gave up, though, and walked or trotted steadily on in the file, Yussuf leading, the professor coming next, then Lawrence, and Mr Burne last.
They stopped at various points of the rising road to study the grand patches of cedars, clumps of planes low down in the valleys, and the slopes of pines, while in the groves the thrushes sang, and the blackbirds piped as familiarly as if it was some spot in Devonshire instead of Asia Minor. Then a diversion was made here and there to examine some spring or the edge of a ravine where a stream ran. There was plenty of time for this, as the two baggage-horses had to be studied, and they were soon overtaken after one of these rides.
But at last a visit to a few stones on a hillside, which had evidently been a watch-tower in some old period of this country’s history, took up so much time that the man with the baggage was a good hour’s journey ahead; and as they reached the track once more Yussuf turned to ask the professor whether he thought the invalid could bear the motion if he led the way at a trot.
The professor turned to ask Lawrence, who replied that he believed he could, and then something happened.
The professor had hardly spoken and obtained his reply before Mr Burne, who had been refreshing himself with a pinch of snuff, whisked out his handkerchief according to his custom.
They were now going along a valley which ran between too highish walls of rock, dotted here and there with trees—just the sort of place, in fact, where anyone would be disposed to shout aloud to try if there was an echo; but the idea had not occurred to either of the travellers, whose thoughts were bent upon overtaking the baggage animals with their stores, when quite unexpectedly Mr Burne applied his handkerchief to his face and blew his nose.
It was not one of his finest blasts, there was less thunder in it, and more high-pitched horn-like music, but the effect was electrical.
There was an echo in that valley, and this echo took up the sound, repeated it, and seemed to send it on to a signalling station higher up, where it was caught and sent on again, and then again and again, each repetition growing weaker and softer than the last.
But only one of these echoes was heard by the travellers, for, as afore said, the effect was electrical.
The moment that blast was blown behind him, Ali Baba, Lawrence’s cream-coloured horse, threw up his head, then lowered it, and lifted his heels, sending his rider nearly out of his saddle, uttered a peculiar squeal, and set off at a gallop.
The squeal and the noise of the hoofs acted like magic upon the other three horses, and away they went, all four as hard as they could go at full gallop, utterly regardless of the pulling and tugging that went on at their bits.
This wild stampede went on along the valley for quite a quarter of an hour before Yussuf was able to check his steed’s headlong career; and it was none too soon, for the smooth track along the valley was rapidly giving way to a steep descent strewed with blocks of limestone, and to have attempted to gallop down there must have resulted in a serious fall.
As it was, Yussuf was only a few yards from a great mass of rock when his hard-mouthed steed was checked; and as the squeal of one had been sufficient to start the others, who had all their early lives been accustomed to run together in a drove, so the stopping of one had the effect of checking the rest, and they stood together shaking their ears and pawing the ground.
As soon as he could get his breath, Lawrence began to laugh, and Mr Preston followed his lead, while the grave Muslim could not forbear a smile at Mr Burne. This worthy’s straw hat had been flying behind, hanging from his neck by a lanyard, while he stood up in his stirrups, craned his neck forward, and held his pocket-handkerchief whip fashion, though it more resembled an orange streak of light as it streamed behind; while now, as soon as the horse had stopped, he climbed out of the saddle, walked two or three steps, and then sat down and stared as if he had been startled out of his senses.
“Not hurt, I hope, Burne,” said the professor kindly.
“Hurt, sir—hurt? Why, that brute must be mad. He literally flew with me, and I might as well have pulled at Saint Paul’s as try to stop him. Good gracious me! I’m shaken into a jelly.”
“Mine was just as hard-mouthed,” said the professor.
“Hard-mouthed? say iron-mouthed while you are about it. And look here, Lawrence, don’t you make your pony play such tricks again.”
“I did nothing, sir,” expostulated Lawrence.
“Nonsense, sir! don’t tell me. I saw you tickle him with your hand behind the saddle.”
“But, Mr Burne—”
“Don’t interrupt and contradict, sir. I distinctly saw you do it, and then the nasty brute kicked up his heels, and squealed, and frightened the others.”
“But, Mr Burne—”
“Don’t prevaricate, sir, I saw you, and when that brute squealed out you could hear the noise go echoing all down the valley.”
In the most innocent manner—having his handkerchief out of his pocket—the old lawyer applied it to his nose and gave another blast, the result being that the horses nearly went off again; but Yussuf caught Mr Burne’s steed, and the professor and Lawrence managed to hold theirs in, but not without difficulty.
“What! were you doing it again?” cried Mr Burne angrily.
“My dear Burne—no, no; pray, don’t do that,” cried the professor. “Don’t you see that it was you who startled the animals off?”
“I startle them? I? What nonsense!”
“But indeed you did, when you blew your nose so loudly.”
“Blew my nose so loudly! Did I blow my nose so loudly?”
“Did you? why it was you who raised that echo.”
“I? Raised that echo? My dear sir, are you dreaming?”
“Dreaming? No! A ride like that upon a rough Turkish horse does not conduce to dreaming. My dear Burne, did you not know that you made that noise?”
“Noise? What, when I blew my nose, or when I took snuff?”
Lawrence could not contain himself, but burst into another tremendous fit of laughter, while, when the old lawyer looked up at him angrily, and then glanced at Yussuf, it was to see that the latter had turned his face away, and was apparently busily rearranging the bridle of his horse.
“But I say, Preston,” said the old lawyer then, “do you really mean to say that I made enough noise to frighten the horses? I thought it was Lawrence there tickling that biting beast of his.”
“But I did not tickle him, Mr Burne,” protested Lawrence.
“Bless my heart, it’s very strange! What do you say, Preston?—you don’t answer me. It is very strange.”
“Strange indeed that you do not recognise the fact that the tremendous noise you made in your pocket-handkerchief started the horses.”
The old gentleman looked round; then at the horses; then in his handkerchief; and back at the horses again.
“I—er—I—er—I really cannot believe it possible, Preston; I blow my nose so softly,” he said quite seriously. “Would you—there—don’t think I slight your word—but—er—would you mind—I’m afraid, you see, that you are mistaken—would you mind my trying the horses?”
“By no means,” said the professor smiling.
“I will then,” said the old gentleman eagerly; and going up to the horses, yellow handkerchief in hand held loosely as if he were about to use it, he slowly advanced it to each animal’s nose.
They neither of them winced, Lawrence’s cream colour going so far as to reach out and try to take hold of it with his lips, evidently under the impression that it was some delicate kind of Turkish dried hay.
“There,” said Mr Burne triumphantly; “you see! They are not frightened at the handkerchief.”
“Walk behind,” said the professor, “and blow your nose—blow gently.”
The old gentleman hesitated for a moment, and then blew as was suggested, not so loudly as before, but a fairly sonorous blow.
The horses all made a plunge, and had to be held in and patted before they could be calmed down again.
“What ridiculous brutes!” exclaimed Mr Burne contemptuously. “How absurd!”
“You are satisfied, then?” said the professor.
“I cannot help being,” replied Mr Burne. “Bless my heart! It is ridiculous.”
“I am growing anxious, your excellencies,” said Yussuf interrupting. “The time is getting on, and I want to overtake the baggage-horses. Will you please to mount, sir?”
“Bless me, Yussuf,” cried Mr Burne testily; “anyone would think that this was your excursion and not ours.”
“Your pardon, effendi, but it will be bad if the night overtakes us and we have not found our baggage. Perhaps we may have to sleep at a khan where there is no food.”
“When we have plenty with the baggage. To be sure. But must I mount that animal again? I am shaken to pieces. There, hold his head.”
The old gentleman uttered a sigh, but he placed his foot in the stirrup and mounted slowly, not easily, for the horse was nervous now, and seemed as if it half suspected his rider of being the cause of that startling noise.
Chapter Nineteen.Adventures in the Hills.“All the result of coming among savages,” grumbled Mr Burne. “Anyone would think that the Turks had never learned the use of the pocket-handkerchief.”“I do not suppose many of them have arrived at your pitch of accomplishment,” said the professor, laughing, as they rode on along the faint track in and out of the loveliest valleys, where nature was constantly tempting them to stop and gaze at some fresh beauty. But there was every prospect of darkness overtaking them before they reached the little mountain village where they were to rest for the night; and as the time went on the beauties of nature were forgotten in the all-powerful desire to overtake the driver with the two baggage-horses, laden with that which was extremely precious to so many hungry travellers, and at every turn their eyes were strained in front to look upon the welcome sight.“Not so much as a tail,” muttered Mr Burne. “I say,” he said aloud, “what’s become of that baggage?”Yussuf was understood to say that the man must have made haste, and that they would find him at the village.But if that was what the Muslim had said, he was wrong. For when in the darkness, after what had become quite a dangerous finish to their journey along the edge of a shelf of rock, where, far below, the rushing and gurgling of a torrent could be heard, they reached the cluster of houses and the miserable khan, one thing was evident, and that was that the baggage had not arrived.“What is to be done, Yussuf?” said the professor. “Must we go back and search for it?”“We could do nothing in the dark, effendi,” was the reply. “The path is safe enough in daylight; by night the risk is too great.”“But he may come yet,” exclaimed Mr Burne.Yussuf only shook his head, and said that they must wait.But he did not waste time, for he sought out the head-man of the village to ask for a resting-place for his employers, with a supply of the best food the village could afford, and barley for the horses.The man surlily replied that they had not enough food for themselves, and that the barley had all gone to pay the taxes. They must go somewhere else.It was now that the weary and hungry travellers found out the value of Yussuf.For he came to the professor, as they sat together on their tired horses, and held out his hand.“Give me the firman, excellency,” he said. “These miserable people have been robbed and plundered by travellers who ask their hospitality, till they are suspicious of all strangers. Let me show the head-man the sultan’s command before I use force.”The professor handed the document, and Yussuf walked straight to where the head-man was standing aloof, caught him by the shoulder and pushed him inside his house, where he made him read the order.The effect was magical. The man became obsequious directly; the horses were led to a rough kind of stable; barley was found for them, a sturdy fellow removed bridles and saddles, and carried them into a good-sized very bare-looking room in the house, which he informed them was to be their chamber for the night.Here a smoky lamp was soon lit; rugs were brought in, and before long a rough meal of bread, and eggs and fruit was set before them, followed by some coffee, which, if not particularly good, was warm and refreshing in the coolness of the mountain air.The lamp burned low, and they were glad to extinguish it at last, and then lie down upon the rugs to sleep.It seemed strange and weird there in the darkness of that room. Only a few hours before, they were in the heated plain; now by the gradual rise of the road they were high up where the mountain-breeze sighed among the cedars, and blew in through the unglazed window.There was a sense of insecurity in being there amongst unfriendly strangers, and Lawrence realised the necessity for going about armed, and letting the people see that travellers carried weapons ready for use.Twice over that day they had passed shepherds who bore over their shoulders what, at a distance, were taken for crooks, but which proved on nearer approach to be long guns, while each man had a formidable knife in his sash.But, well-armed though they were, Lawrence could not trust himself to sleep. He was horribly weary, and ached all over with his long ride, but he could not rest. There was that open window close to the ground, and it seemed to him to offer great facilities for a bloodthirsty man to creep in and rob and murder, if he chose, before the sleepers could move in their own defence.It was a window that looked like a square patch of transparent blackness, with a point or two of light in the far distance that he knew were stars. That was the danger, and he lay and watched it, listening to the breathing of his friends.The door gave him no concern, for Yussuf had stretched himself across it after the fashion of a watchdog, and he too seemed to sleep.How time went Lawrence could not tell, but he could not even doze, and the time seemed terribly long. His weariness increased, and, in addition, he began to feel feverish, and his skin itched and tingled as if every now and then an exquisitely fine needle had punctured it.The restlessness and irritation ceased not for a moment, and he realised now that he must have caught same disease peculiar to the country. A fever, of course, but he knew enough of the laws of such complaints, from his long life of sickness, to feel that this was not a regular fever, for he perspired too freely, and his head was cool.He tossed from side to side, but there was no rest, and when at last the window faded from his sight, and he became insensible to what was going on around him, he was still conscious of that peculiar irritation, that prickled and itched and stung and burned, till he dreamed that he was travelling through a stinging-nettle wood that led up to a square window, through which a fierce-looking Turk armed with pistols and dagger crept to come and rob him.It was all dreadfully real, and, in the midst of his fear and agony, he could not help feeling that he was foolish to wish that the Guilford Street police-sergeant, whom he had so often seen stop by one particular lamp-post at the corner to speak to one of his men, would come now, for he had a sensation that this must be quite out of his beat.And all the time the fierce-looking Turk was coming nearer, and at last seized him, and spoke in a low whisper.He saw all this mentally, for his eyes were closed; but, as he opened them and gazed upwards, a broad band of pale light came through the square window, falling right on the stern face of the Turk as he bent over him just as he had fancied in his sleep.For the moment he was about to speak. Then he calmed down and uttered a sigh as he realised the truth.“Is that you, Yussuf?” he said.“Yes,” was the reply. “It is morning, and I thought you might like to see the sun rise from the mountain here.”“Yes, I should,” said Lawrence, uttering another sigh full of relief; “but I am not well. I itch and burn—my neck, my face, my arms.”“Yes,” said Yussuf sadly, as if speaking of a trouble that was inevitable.“Is it a fever coming on?”“Fever?” said Yussuf smiling; “oh, no! the place swarms with nasty little insects. These rugs are full.”“Ugh!” ejaculated Lawrence, jumping up and giving himself a rub and a shake. “How horrid, to be sure!”Yussuf would not let him go far from the house, merely led him to a spot where the view was clear, and then let him gaze for a few minutes as the great orange globe rolled up and gilded the mists that lay in the hollows among the hills. Then he returned to the house and prepared the scanty breakfast, of which they partook before going off in search of the missing baggage-horses and their load.Three hours were consumed in seeking out the spot where the man who had charge of the two animals had gone from his right path. It was very natural for him to have done so, for the road forked here, and he pursued that which seemed the most beaten way. Down here he had journeyed for hours, and when at last he had come to the conclusion that he had gone wrong, instead of turning back he had calmly accepted his fate, unloaded the animals, made himself a fire out of the abundant wood that lay around, and there he waited patiently until he was found.It was a hindrance so soon after their starting; but Yussuf seemed to set so good an example of patience and forbearance that the professor followed it, and Mr Burne was compelled to accept the position.“We shall have plenty of such drawbacks,” Mr Preston said; “and we must recollect that we are not in the land of time-tables and express trains.”“We seem to be in the land of no tables at all, not even chairs,” grumbled Mr Burne; “but there, I don’t complain. Go on just as you please. I’ll keep all my complaints till I get back, and then put them in a big book.”A week of steady slow travelling ensued, during which time they were continually journeying in and out among the mountains, following rough tracks, or roads as they were called, whose course had been suggested by that of the streams that wandered between the hills. Often enough the way was the dried-up bed of some torrent, amidst whose boulders the patient little Turkish horses picked their way in the most sure-footed manner.It was along such a track as this that they were going in single file one day, for some particular reason that was apparently known only to the professor and Yussuf. They seemed to be deep down in the earth, for the rift along which they travelled was not above twenty feet wide, and on the one side the rock rose up nearly three thousand feet almost perpendicularly, while, on the other, where it was not perpendicular, it appeared to overhang.Now and then it opened out a little more. Then it contracted, and seemed as if ere long the sides of the ravine would touch; but always when it came to this, it opened out directly after.The heat was intense, for there was not a breath of wind. The gully was perfectly dry, and wherever there was a patch of greenery, it was fifty, a hundred, perhaps a thousand feet above their heads.“How much farther is it to the village where we shall stop for the night?” said the old lawyer, pausing to mop his forehead.“There is no village that we shall stop at, effendi,” said Yussuf quietly. “We go on a little more, and then we shall have reached the remains that Mr Preston wishes to see.”“Bless my heart!” panted the old gentleman. “You are killing that boy.”“I am quite well,” said Lawrence smiling, “only hot and thirsty. I want to see the ruins.”“Oh, go on,” cried Mr Burne. “Don’t stop for me.”Just then they were proceeding along a more open and sunny part when the professor’s horse in front suddenly shied, swerved round, and darted back, throwing his rider pretty heavily.“Mind, sir! Take care!” shouted Yussuf.“What’s the good of telling a man to take care when he is down?” cried Mr Burne angrily; and he tried to urge his horse forward, but it refused to stir, while Lawrence’s had behaved in precisely the same manner, and stood shivering and snorting.“Your gun, sir, quickly!” exclaimed Yussuf.“What is it? Robbers?” cried Mr Burne excitedly as he handed the guide his double-barrelled fowling-piece.“No, sir; one of the evil beasts which haunt these valleys and slopes. Is the gun loaded, sir?”“Loaded? No, man. Do you suppose I want to shoot somebody?”“Quick, sir! The charges!” whispered Yussuf; and when, after much fumbling, Mr Burne had forced his hand into his cartridge-bag, Yussuf was closing the breech of the gun, having loaded it with a couple of cartridges handed by Lawrence, who had rapidly dismounted and drawn his sword.It was evident that Mr Preston was stunned by the fall, for he lay motionless on one side of the ravine among the stones.“No, no, stop!” cried Yussuf as Lawrence was making his way towards the professor.The lad involuntarily obeyed, and waited breathless to see what would follow, as Yussuf advanced cautiously, gun in hand, his dark eyes rolling from side to side in search of the danger.For some minutes he could see nothing. Then, all at once, they saw him raise the gun to his shoulder, take a quick aim and fire, when the horses started, and would have dashed off back, but for the fact that they were arrested by the way being blocked by the baggage animals and Mr Burne.As the gun was fired its report was magnified a hundredfold, and went rolling along in a series of peals like thunder, while the faint blue smoke rose over where Yussuf stood leaning forward and gazing at some broken stones.Then all at once he raised the gun again as if to fire, but lowered it with a smile, and walked forward to spurn something with his foot, and upon Lawrence reaching him it was to find him turning over a black-looking serpent of about six feet long, with a short thin tail, the body of the reptile being very thick in proportion to its length. Upon turning it over the Muslim pointed out that it had a peculiar reddish throat, and he declared it to be of a very poisonous kind.“How do you know it to be poisonous?” said Mr Preston, who had, unseen by them, risen from where he had been thrown.“Oh, Mr Preston, are you much hurt?” cried Lawrence.“I must say I am hurt,” said the professor smiling. “A heavy man like me cannot fall from his horse and strike his head against the stones without suffering. But there, it is nothing serious. How do you know that is a poisonous snake, Yussuf?”“I have been told of people being bitten by them, effendi, and some have died; but I should have said that it was dangerous as soon as I saw the horse shrink from it. Animals do not generally show such horror unless they know that there is danger.”“I don’t think you are right about the horses,” said the professor quietly, “for they are terrible cowards in their way; but I think you are right about the snake. Serpents that are formed like this, with the thick, sluggish-looking shape, and that peculiar short tail, are mostly venomous. Well, this one will do no more mischief, Burne.”“No. Nasty brute!” said the old lawyer, gazing down at the reptile after coaxing his horse forward. “What are you going to do, Yussuf?”“Make sure that it will not bite any of the faithful,” said the guide slowly; and drawing his knife he thrust the reptile into a convenient position, and, after cutting off its head, tossed the still writhing body to the side of the ravine.This incident at an end, they all mounted again and rode on, Yussuf in the middle, and Lawrence and Mr Preston, who declared himself better, on either hand, till, at the end of about an hour, the latter said quickly:“Do you think you are right, Yussuf? These ravines are so much alike. Surely you must have made a mistake.”“If I am right,” replied Yussuf, pointing forward, “there is a spring of clear water gushing out at the foot of that steep rock.”“And there is none, I think,” said the professor, “or it would be running this way.”“If it did not run another, effendi,” said Yussuf grimly. “Yes: I am right. There is the opening of the little valley down which the stream runs, and the ruined rock-dwellings are just beyond.”If there had been any doubt as to their guide’s knowledge it would have been set aside by the horses, for Mr Burne suddenly uttered a warning shout, and, looking back, they saw the two baggage animals coming along at a sharp pace, which was immediately participated in by the rest of the horses, all trotting forward as fast as the nature of the ground would allow to get to a patch of green that showed at the foot of a great rock; and upon reaching it, there, as Yussuf had said, was a copious stream, which came spouting out from a crevice in the rock, clear, cool, and delicious, for the refreshment of all.The horses and baggage were left here in charge of the driver, and, following Yussuf, the little party were soon after at the foot of a very rugged precipice, the guide pointing upwards, and exclaiming:“Behold, effendi, it is as I said.”For a few moments they all gazed upwards, seeing nothing but what appeared to be the rugged face of the cliff; but soon the eye began to make out a kind of order here and there, and that rugged ranges of stones had been built up on shelves of the rock, with windows and doors, but as far as could be made out these rock-dwellings had been roofless; and were more like fortifications than anything else, the professor said.“Yes, effendi,” said Yussuf gravely, “strongholds, but dwelling-places as well. People had to live in spots where they would be safe in those days. Are you going to climb up?”“Certainly,” was the reply.“That is well, for up beyond there is a way to an old temple, and a number of caves where people must have been living.”“But where is the road up?” said Lawrence.“Along that rough ledge,” replied Yussuf. “I will go first. Would it not be better if the young effendi stayed below? The height is great, the road dangerous; and not only is it hot, but there are many serpents up among the ledges of the rock.”“What do you say, Lawrence?” said the professor.“He is going to stop down with me,” said Mr Burne shortly.“No, sir; I am going up,” replied Lawrence. “I may never be able to see such wonders as these again.”“But, my dear boy, if you climb up here, I must go too,” cried Mr Burne.“Come along, then, sir,” cried Lawrence laughing; “the place looks so interesting I would not miss going up for the world.”“Humph! I know I shall be broken before I’ve done,” muttered Mr Burne, taking out his handkerchief for a good blow; but glancing back in the direction where they had left the horses, he altered his mind, as if he dreaded the consequences, and replacing the silken square, he uttered a low sigh, and prepared to climb.
“All the result of coming among savages,” grumbled Mr Burne. “Anyone would think that the Turks had never learned the use of the pocket-handkerchief.”
“I do not suppose many of them have arrived at your pitch of accomplishment,” said the professor, laughing, as they rode on along the faint track in and out of the loveliest valleys, where nature was constantly tempting them to stop and gaze at some fresh beauty. But there was every prospect of darkness overtaking them before they reached the little mountain village where they were to rest for the night; and as the time went on the beauties of nature were forgotten in the all-powerful desire to overtake the driver with the two baggage-horses, laden with that which was extremely precious to so many hungry travellers, and at every turn their eyes were strained in front to look upon the welcome sight.
“Not so much as a tail,” muttered Mr Burne. “I say,” he said aloud, “what’s become of that baggage?”
Yussuf was understood to say that the man must have made haste, and that they would find him at the village.
But if that was what the Muslim had said, he was wrong. For when in the darkness, after what had become quite a dangerous finish to their journey along the edge of a shelf of rock, where, far below, the rushing and gurgling of a torrent could be heard, they reached the cluster of houses and the miserable khan, one thing was evident, and that was that the baggage had not arrived.
“What is to be done, Yussuf?” said the professor. “Must we go back and search for it?”
“We could do nothing in the dark, effendi,” was the reply. “The path is safe enough in daylight; by night the risk is too great.”
“But he may come yet,” exclaimed Mr Burne.
Yussuf only shook his head, and said that they must wait.
But he did not waste time, for he sought out the head-man of the village to ask for a resting-place for his employers, with a supply of the best food the village could afford, and barley for the horses.
The man surlily replied that they had not enough food for themselves, and that the barley had all gone to pay the taxes. They must go somewhere else.
It was now that the weary and hungry travellers found out the value of Yussuf.
For he came to the professor, as they sat together on their tired horses, and held out his hand.
“Give me the firman, excellency,” he said. “These miserable people have been robbed and plundered by travellers who ask their hospitality, till they are suspicious of all strangers. Let me show the head-man the sultan’s command before I use force.”
The professor handed the document, and Yussuf walked straight to where the head-man was standing aloof, caught him by the shoulder and pushed him inside his house, where he made him read the order.
The effect was magical. The man became obsequious directly; the horses were led to a rough kind of stable; barley was found for them, a sturdy fellow removed bridles and saddles, and carried them into a good-sized very bare-looking room in the house, which he informed them was to be their chamber for the night.
Here a smoky lamp was soon lit; rugs were brought in, and before long a rough meal of bread, and eggs and fruit was set before them, followed by some coffee, which, if not particularly good, was warm and refreshing in the coolness of the mountain air.
The lamp burned low, and they were glad to extinguish it at last, and then lie down upon the rugs to sleep.
It seemed strange and weird there in the darkness of that room. Only a few hours before, they were in the heated plain; now by the gradual rise of the road they were high up where the mountain-breeze sighed among the cedars, and blew in through the unglazed window.
There was a sense of insecurity in being there amongst unfriendly strangers, and Lawrence realised the necessity for going about armed, and letting the people see that travellers carried weapons ready for use.
Twice over that day they had passed shepherds who bore over their shoulders what, at a distance, were taken for crooks, but which proved on nearer approach to be long guns, while each man had a formidable knife in his sash.
But, well-armed though they were, Lawrence could not trust himself to sleep. He was horribly weary, and ached all over with his long ride, but he could not rest. There was that open window close to the ground, and it seemed to him to offer great facilities for a bloodthirsty man to creep in and rob and murder, if he chose, before the sleepers could move in their own defence.
It was a window that looked like a square patch of transparent blackness, with a point or two of light in the far distance that he knew were stars. That was the danger, and he lay and watched it, listening to the breathing of his friends.
The door gave him no concern, for Yussuf had stretched himself across it after the fashion of a watchdog, and he too seemed to sleep.
How time went Lawrence could not tell, but he could not even doze, and the time seemed terribly long. His weariness increased, and, in addition, he began to feel feverish, and his skin itched and tingled as if every now and then an exquisitely fine needle had punctured it.
The restlessness and irritation ceased not for a moment, and he realised now that he must have caught same disease peculiar to the country. A fever, of course, but he knew enough of the laws of such complaints, from his long life of sickness, to feel that this was not a regular fever, for he perspired too freely, and his head was cool.
He tossed from side to side, but there was no rest, and when at last the window faded from his sight, and he became insensible to what was going on around him, he was still conscious of that peculiar irritation, that prickled and itched and stung and burned, till he dreamed that he was travelling through a stinging-nettle wood that led up to a square window, through which a fierce-looking Turk armed with pistols and dagger crept to come and rob him.
It was all dreadfully real, and, in the midst of his fear and agony, he could not help feeling that he was foolish to wish that the Guilford Street police-sergeant, whom he had so often seen stop by one particular lamp-post at the corner to speak to one of his men, would come now, for he had a sensation that this must be quite out of his beat.
And all the time the fierce-looking Turk was coming nearer, and at last seized him, and spoke in a low whisper.
He saw all this mentally, for his eyes were closed; but, as he opened them and gazed upwards, a broad band of pale light came through the square window, falling right on the stern face of the Turk as he bent over him just as he had fancied in his sleep.
For the moment he was about to speak. Then he calmed down and uttered a sigh as he realised the truth.
“Is that you, Yussuf?” he said.
“Yes,” was the reply. “It is morning, and I thought you might like to see the sun rise from the mountain here.”
“Yes, I should,” said Lawrence, uttering another sigh full of relief; “but I am not well. I itch and burn—my neck, my face, my arms.”
“Yes,” said Yussuf sadly, as if speaking of a trouble that was inevitable.
“Is it a fever coming on?”
“Fever?” said Yussuf smiling; “oh, no! the place swarms with nasty little insects. These rugs are full.”
“Ugh!” ejaculated Lawrence, jumping up and giving himself a rub and a shake. “How horrid, to be sure!”
Yussuf would not let him go far from the house, merely led him to a spot where the view was clear, and then let him gaze for a few minutes as the great orange globe rolled up and gilded the mists that lay in the hollows among the hills. Then he returned to the house and prepared the scanty breakfast, of which they partook before going off in search of the missing baggage-horses and their load.
Three hours were consumed in seeking out the spot where the man who had charge of the two animals had gone from his right path. It was very natural for him to have done so, for the road forked here, and he pursued that which seemed the most beaten way. Down here he had journeyed for hours, and when at last he had come to the conclusion that he had gone wrong, instead of turning back he had calmly accepted his fate, unloaded the animals, made himself a fire out of the abundant wood that lay around, and there he waited patiently until he was found.
It was a hindrance so soon after their starting; but Yussuf seemed to set so good an example of patience and forbearance that the professor followed it, and Mr Burne was compelled to accept the position.
“We shall have plenty of such drawbacks,” Mr Preston said; “and we must recollect that we are not in the land of time-tables and express trains.”
“We seem to be in the land of no tables at all, not even chairs,” grumbled Mr Burne; “but there, I don’t complain. Go on just as you please. I’ll keep all my complaints till I get back, and then put them in a big book.”
A week of steady slow travelling ensued, during which time they were continually journeying in and out among the mountains, following rough tracks, or roads as they were called, whose course had been suggested by that of the streams that wandered between the hills. Often enough the way was the dried-up bed of some torrent, amidst whose boulders the patient little Turkish horses picked their way in the most sure-footed manner.
It was along such a track as this that they were going in single file one day, for some particular reason that was apparently known only to the professor and Yussuf. They seemed to be deep down in the earth, for the rift along which they travelled was not above twenty feet wide, and on the one side the rock rose up nearly three thousand feet almost perpendicularly, while, on the other, where it was not perpendicular, it appeared to overhang.
Now and then it opened out a little more. Then it contracted, and seemed as if ere long the sides of the ravine would touch; but always when it came to this, it opened out directly after.
The heat was intense, for there was not a breath of wind. The gully was perfectly dry, and wherever there was a patch of greenery, it was fifty, a hundred, perhaps a thousand feet above their heads.
“How much farther is it to the village where we shall stop for the night?” said the old lawyer, pausing to mop his forehead.
“There is no village that we shall stop at, effendi,” said Yussuf quietly. “We go on a little more, and then we shall have reached the remains that Mr Preston wishes to see.”
“Bless my heart!” panted the old gentleman. “You are killing that boy.”
“I am quite well,” said Lawrence smiling, “only hot and thirsty. I want to see the ruins.”
“Oh, go on,” cried Mr Burne. “Don’t stop for me.”
Just then they were proceeding along a more open and sunny part when the professor’s horse in front suddenly shied, swerved round, and darted back, throwing his rider pretty heavily.
“Mind, sir! Take care!” shouted Yussuf.
“What’s the good of telling a man to take care when he is down?” cried Mr Burne angrily; and he tried to urge his horse forward, but it refused to stir, while Lawrence’s had behaved in precisely the same manner, and stood shivering and snorting.
“Your gun, sir, quickly!” exclaimed Yussuf.
“What is it? Robbers?” cried Mr Burne excitedly as he handed the guide his double-barrelled fowling-piece.
“No, sir; one of the evil beasts which haunt these valleys and slopes. Is the gun loaded, sir?”
“Loaded? No, man. Do you suppose I want to shoot somebody?”
“Quick, sir! The charges!” whispered Yussuf; and when, after much fumbling, Mr Burne had forced his hand into his cartridge-bag, Yussuf was closing the breech of the gun, having loaded it with a couple of cartridges handed by Lawrence, who had rapidly dismounted and drawn his sword.
It was evident that Mr Preston was stunned by the fall, for he lay motionless on one side of the ravine among the stones.
“No, no, stop!” cried Yussuf as Lawrence was making his way towards the professor.
The lad involuntarily obeyed, and waited breathless to see what would follow, as Yussuf advanced cautiously, gun in hand, his dark eyes rolling from side to side in search of the danger.
For some minutes he could see nothing. Then, all at once, they saw him raise the gun to his shoulder, take a quick aim and fire, when the horses started, and would have dashed off back, but for the fact that they were arrested by the way being blocked by the baggage animals and Mr Burne.
As the gun was fired its report was magnified a hundredfold, and went rolling along in a series of peals like thunder, while the faint blue smoke rose over where Yussuf stood leaning forward and gazing at some broken stones.
Then all at once he raised the gun again as if to fire, but lowered it with a smile, and walked forward to spurn something with his foot, and upon Lawrence reaching him it was to find him turning over a black-looking serpent of about six feet long, with a short thin tail, the body of the reptile being very thick in proportion to its length. Upon turning it over the Muslim pointed out that it had a peculiar reddish throat, and he declared it to be of a very poisonous kind.
“How do you know it to be poisonous?” said Mr Preston, who had, unseen by them, risen from where he had been thrown.
“Oh, Mr Preston, are you much hurt?” cried Lawrence.
“I must say I am hurt,” said the professor smiling. “A heavy man like me cannot fall from his horse and strike his head against the stones without suffering. But there, it is nothing serious. How do you know that is a poisonous snake, Yussuf?”
“I have been told of people being bitten by them, effendi, and some have died; but I should have said that it was dangerous as soon as I saw the horse shrink from it. Animals do not generally show such horror unless they know that there is danger.”
“I don’t think you are right about the horses,” said the professor quietly, “for they are terrible cowards in their way; but I think you are right about the snake. Serpents that are formed like this, with the thick, sluggish-looking shape, and that peculiar short tail, are mostly venomous. Well, this one will do no more mischief, Burne.”
“No. Nasty brute!” said the old lawyer, gazing down at the reptile after coaxing his horse forward. “What are you going to do, Yussuf?”
“Make sure that it will not bite any of the faithful,” said the guide slowly; and drawing his knife he thrust the reptile into a convenient position, and, after cutting off its head, tossed the still writhing body to the side of the ravine.
This incident at an end, they all mounted again and rode on, Yussuf in the middle, and Lawrence and Mr Preston, who declared himself better, on either hand, till, at the end of about an hour, the latter said quickly:
“Do you think you are right, Yussuf? These ravines are so much alike. Surely you must have made a mistake.”
“If I am right,” replied Yussuf, pointing forward, “there is a spring of clear water gushing out at the foot of that steep rock.”
“And there is none, I think,” said the professor, “or it would be running this way.”
“If it did not run another, effendi,” said Yussuf grimly. “Yes: I am right. There is the opening of the little valley down which the stream runs, and the ruined rock-dwellings are just beyond.”
If there had been any doubt as to their guide’s knowledge it would have been set aside by the horses, for Mr Burne suddenly uttered a warning shout, and, looking back, they saw the two baggage animals coming along at a sharp pace, which was immediately participated in by the rest of the horses, all trotting forward as fast as the nature of the ground would allow to get to a patch of green that showed at the foot of a great rock; and upon reaching it, there, as Yussuf had said, was a copious stream, which came spouting out from a crevice in the rock, clear, cool, and delicious, for the refreshment of all.
The horses and baggage were left here in charge of the driver, and, following Yussuf, the little party were soon after at the foot of a very rugged precipice, the guide pointing upwards, and exclaiming:
“Behold, effendi, it is as I said.”
For a few moments they all gazed upwards, seeing nothing but what appeared to be the rugged face of the cliff; but soon the eye began to make out a kind of order here and there, and that rugged ranges of stones had been built up on shelves of the rock, with windows and doors, but as far as could be made out these rock-dwellings had been roofless; and were more like fortifications than anything else, the professor said.
“Yes, effendi,” said Yussuf gravely, “strongholds, but dwelling-places as well. People had to live in spots where they would be safe in those days. Are you going to climb up?”
“Certainly,” was the reply.
“That is well, for up beyond there is a way to an old temple, and a number of caves where people must have been living.”
“But where is the road up?” said Lawrence.
“Along that rough ledge,” replied Yussuf. “I will go first. Would it not be better if the young effendi stayed below? The height is great, the road dangerous; and not only is it hot, but there are many serpents up among the ledges of the rock.”
“What do you say, Lawrence?” said the professor.
“He is going to stop down with me,” said Mr Burne shortly.
“No, sir; I am going up,” replied Lawrence. “I may never be able to see such wonders as these again.”
“But, my dear boy, if you climb up here, I must go too,” cried Mr Burne.
“Come along, then, sir,” cried Lawrence laughing; “the place looks so interesting I would not miss going up for the world.”
“Humph! I know I shall be broken before I’ve done,” muttered Mr Burne, taking out his handkerchief for a good blow; but glancing back in the direction where they had left the horses, he altered his mind, as if he dreaded the consequences, and replacing the silken square, he uttered a low sigh, and prepared to climb.