As we had made up our minds to ride, we paid a visit to the bazaar to purchase two horses. All sorts of extraordinary animals were produced, and refused.
At last we came across one that struck our fancy—a long-legged, extremely lean creature, tall for the country, of a red-brick colour.
Brown, who is a horsey man, proceeded to examine him in a scientific manner, to the admiration of the Arnaut stablemen.
He pointed out the weak points of the animal by signs to the dealer, who was quite as sharp as any of his fraternity in England.
Brown, wishing to express his disapproval of the extremely emaciated condition of the horse, pointed to his ribs; whereon the man, misunderstanding his meaning, deliberately counted them before him—a very easy process in the case of this Albanian Rosinante—and indignantly signified to my companion that he was too much of a gentleman to offer for sale a horse that was not provided with a sufficient number of those necessary costal supporters.
The animal was then trotted out, down one of the crowded alleys of the bazaar. He found favour in Brown's critical eye, so the bargaining commenced.
"Sa paré?" (how much) I asked.
The dealer held up both his hands, and said, "napoleon Frank"—to signify that he wanted ten napoleons.
Brown expressed infinite disgust, and held up two fingers.
The dealer in his turn turned his back, with indignant gesticulations and exclamations at the ridiculously low offer.