THE FRONTIER OF KURDISTAN.Upon crossing the Araxes river, we arrived ere long at the frontier of Kurdistan proper, whose inhabitants had already enjoyed, in the age of Herodotus, the unenviable reputation of being thieves and robbers of the worst kind. We noticed on our march a lofty rock—and one of our guides told us that the renowned Korouglu had lived on the top of it. He is the most celebrated hero-adventurer of Mohammedan popular poetry; his miraculous feats are told in song, at feasts and on the battlefield, alike by the Turks on the Oxus, the Anatolians near the Mediterranean, and the Roumelians by the waves of the Danube.
As we were passing through a narrow mountain defile my Armenian companions set to loading their guns and pistols, saying: "We shall meet henceforth no more Osmanlis; only Kurds and Armenians are living here." Letters of recommendation and polite requests have no effect upon the Kurds; if you wish to keep them in awe you must meet them well armed.
At a Kurdistan village, called Eshek-Eliasz, we hired two men to accompany us, and we started on our way at the dawn of morning. It was a murky gloomy morning, the tops of the distant mountains were clouded by the fog. We sent the loaded animals ahead, and sat down at the foot of the mountain to make our tea. In the damp and chilly hours of the early dawn tea is a most refreshing beverage, and after having taken a cup or two we remounted our horses in order to overtake our beasts of burden. We overtook them after half an hour's trot, and saw them peaceably advancing along the ridge of the mountain. ATTACKED BY ROBBERS.The rays of the sun had now scattered the fog, and looking about me, admiring the beautiful mountain scenery, I happened to observe that one of our Kurdistan followers was glancing now at the luggage-carriers, now at his companion, betraying great uneasiness. "What is it, what is it?" I asked. Instead of any reply he merely pointed in the direction where the servants of my Armenian companions and a couple of mule drivers were marching on. We looked and saw armed Kurds, on horseback and on foot, rushing in upon us from the right and the left, making straight for the animals laden with precious and valuable goods. "Robbers! Robbers!" shouted the Armenian Karabegoff, who had been in Europe. Quickly seizing his revolver, he rushed forward, followed by his friend and myself, but, although I urged on my horse in every conceivable manner, I was the third and last to arrive upon the scene of action. I still wore, at that time, a brass plate on my fez, in token of my dignity, as an Effendi. The Kurds had scarcely caught sight of me, when they suddenly stopped within a few steps from the badly frightened group of people. "What do you want here?" I asked them in a voice of thunder. An old, one-eyed man, armed with a shield, lance, rifle and sword, now stepped forward, and said: "Bey Effendi, our oxen have strayed from us, and we have been looking for them all night. Hast thou not met with them somewhere on thy way?"
"And is it customary to look for oxen, armed as thou art?" said I. "Shame on thee! Has thy beard turned grey to be soiled by thieving and robbery? If I did not regard thy old age I should take thee at once before the Kaimakam of Bayazid, thou insolent waylayer!"
My words and the explanations of my Kurd followers caused the band of marauders, consisting of eight men, very soon to understand with whom they had to deal. They are not much afraid of Armenians and Persians as a usual thing, but they do not deem it advisable to attack an officer of the Sultan. I still added a few threats to my former severe reprimands, and we had soon the satisfaction of seeing the robbers disband and quit us. We too continued our march, during which the Armenians never tired of expressing their gratitude to me. If it had not been for me, they said, all the valuables brought with them from London would have fallen into the hands of the Kurds. I especially remarked, during the affray, the dismay and pallor of several Persian merchants who had joined us the day before. These men brought me, as we were about to retire to rest, various sweetmeats, as an acknowledgment of my services. I could not help admitting that, in the eyes of the Kurds, the dignity of an Effendi carried considerable weight.
We came in the evening to a village called Mollah Suleiman, inhabited, chiefly, by Armenians. At the sight of my Kurdistan followers, our landlord took me aside and said to me in a whisper: "Effendi, thou mayest well deem thyself fortunate for having escaped unhurt. Thy followers are known, far and wide, as the most desperate robbers; they have never before escorted any one across the Dagar mountain but some ill befell him." In an instant the whole adventure became clear to me. These two Kurd fellows were in league with the robbers, and but for my friend's revolver and my Effendi headgear the day might have proved fatal to all of us. Such occurrences are by no means rare in this region. The people and the authorities are well aware of the frequent cases of brigandage; they know who the brigands are; but, nevertheless, everybody is left to his own bravery to defend himself.
TALES OF ROBBERS.Our Armenian host, who had received his fellows in faith and myself with great cordiality, had a sumptuous supper prepared for us; the priest, clergyman and the judge of the village too, came to pay their respects, and there was no end to tales of robbery. In the autumn before, we were told, a caravan, consisting of forty beasts of burden and fifteen men, amongst whom there was an Englishman, was attacked by a robber chief and twelve men. No sooner had the Kurds, with their customary cry of "Lululu!" come upon them, than the Persians and Turks took to their heels, and allowed the brigands to freely rummage in the luggage, without molesting them. They had already driven away a couple of animals, when the Englishman, who had hitherto coolly stood by and watched the doings of the miscreants, raised his revolver without being observed, took deliberate aim at the chief and levelled him to the ground. The Kurds stood for a moment dumbfounded with fright, but they soon recovered and made a simultaneous rush upon the Englishman. The latter, who did not for an instant lose his presence of mind, shot dead another and then again another man, crying out to them fiercely: "Do not come near me or I will kill every one of you." This had its effect; one by one the remaining Kurds slunk away. The family of the dead chief instituted a suit for damages against the Englishman, claiming that the chief had been out hunting, and not robbing, when he was killed. The Turks treated the claim quite seriously, and, in all probability, would have mulcted the brave Englishman in damages but for the intercession of the British Consul.
The rain was pouring down violently when we left our hospitable host next day, and at night we had to put up at an Armenian village, containing about ten houses; for it was too late for us to reach on that day Diadin, the next place on our journey. The inhabitants of that village are leading a strange life. Man and beast, food and fuel are all stowed away under one roof, and whilst one part of the inhabitants are sleeping the others mount guard, on the roofs, with their arms in readiness. I asked several of them why they did not ask assistance of the governor of Erzerum, and was told, in reply: "That the governor was himself at the head of the thieves. God alone, and his representative on earth, the Russian Tzar, can help us." And the poor people were certainly right in this.
We forded through the Euphrates river and reached, before long, a monastery, the inmates of which were Armenian friars who were held in high respect by all the inhabitants of the surrounding country, both Christian and Mohammedan. It is a strikingly characteristic feature of all Eastern nations, that with them friars, monks, wizards, and fortune-tellers are indiscriminately, without regard to their religion, the objects of deep veneration. The supernatural, the mysterious excite the humility of the Eastern man, and the Kurds go far away, to distant countries, in pursuit of their predatory ventures, leaving this solitary and unprotected settlement unmolested.
Towards evening we arrived at the border place, Diadin. After considerable inquiry we succeeded in finding the house of the judge, at whose hands we desired to procure accommodation for the night. On looking round there, I saw, sitting in a corner of the barn, an American minister, with his wife and children and his sister. They had been living in Urumia (in Persia) for several years, and were now on their way home, to Philadelphia. Urumia and Philadelphia, what a distance! But the members of the missionary society know no distance.