To Mesopotamia and Kurdistan in disguise

by Ely Banister Soane

AN INQUISITIVE VISITOR

Then he found one of the red india-rubber sponges which are so common nowadays, and which had somehow escaped loss during my journeyings. This quite upset him. Its use he appreciated at once, for I pointed out that it was used in the bath for washing and rubbing the skin. But by chance he smelled it, and the odour of rubber that it gave out so disgusted him that he left it alone at once. But what he had come to see was the Mauser pistol, and to keep him quiet, for he hopped around the room overturning all my papers and books, I produced it. The weapon, however, did not meet with the favourable reception I had hoped, for he said he had seen and possessed one before. He found a fine pastime provided in a charge of dummy cartridges given by the sellers, with which to practise manipulating the weapon without danger. His companions were ignorant of their harmless nature, and watched with interest his movements. Having loaded, he cocked his pistol and covered the man who sat opposite him, amusing himself by making him move this way and that to be out of aim. Mustafa Beg regarded these operations with dismay, and evidently thought that Sayyid Nuri having trapped an enemy in another man’s house, was going to kill and leave him there and let his death lie at my door, and he besought him in tones of earnest appeal to put down the pistol. His companions, seeing he did not desist, also joined in the protest, and he put it down, and then proceeded to enjoy the astonishment that followed his explanation of the nature of the cartridges.

Having exhausted the joke, he was at a loss for something to do, and explained his miserable existence, for he pointed out that as son of Shaikh Ahmad he had more money than he could spend—which was perfectly true—and was bound down to Sulaimania. He sighed for Kirkuk and its big, busy bazaars, and its proximity to Bagdad, which was his first aim, and stood in his eyes the first city of the world. His questions regarding Constantinople were few, and made more from a sense of thoroughness in his queries than a desire for information, and he thought it but a poor place compared even to Mosul. It took a long time to satisfy him as to the reason of my presence in Sulaimania, and I saw he did not believe that I was only remaining a short time, nor that my aim was the commerce in which I was engaged; for to him a merchant was inseparable from his office, and a man who spoke European languages and possessed medicines was obviously there for some other reason.

To my immense relief I at last got rid of him. Old Mustafa Beg had himself not anticipated the annoyance that would result from his visit, and was, I could see, very penitent and regretful, for in his own way he was jealous and did not wish others to be free of the house, a futile hope in Sulaimania, where the unmarried man who refuses free permission of entry to all and sundry is regarded as a lunatic, or an excessive evildoer who would conceal the actions that must be necessarily wicked because done behind closed doors.

The neighbours’ protests against the visits were not long in coming. The old house-dame had been out at one of their houses and returned with a long complaint from several of them, the gist of which was that if this was the company I preferred I had better go elsewhere to enjoy it, for the advent of a shaikh in a quarter was the forerunner of all evil. Opposite to our house, however, a certain merchant lived, whose wife was one of the ancient family of the Hakkari religious chiefs, and bore the man’s title of “Khan” that indicated her lineage. She was thus related to the shaikhs themselves, and I resolved to appeal to her when occasion should arise. So I kept a look-out for her husband, and when he arrived, called him in. He was a pleasant man, much respected in the quarter, and kept up the tradition of the Kurds that the stranger must be protected. I explained to him the circumstances of the visit, and he promised to send his wife to the shaikh house if the lad came again, and tell them that his presence was not required in the quarter. He lost no time in clearing my character of the blame that had attached to it, and took the most effective means to do so, for as it was sunset, and the women were spreading the bed-clothes behind the “chikha” or mat screens on the roofs, he ascended and announced in a loud voice that Ghulam Husain was more sorry than they at the visit, and had called him to witness his displeasure, and request his assistance in preventing any annoyance to the quarter. His emphatic utterance and assertion of going surety for my good intentions called forth expressions of gratitude from the people around, and I saw that by my action I had gained in their estimation.

A COMPLAINT FROM THE NEIGHBOURS

In the bazaar and coffee-houses there was but one topic of conversation these days—the Hamavands. We heard rumours of their intention to raid Sulaimania, and at nights their riders came openly to the shaikhs’ house to receive their orders. Once or twice they actually looted a few houses on the west side of the town. Not a soul dared venture forth. Matti used to tell me of happier times when the Christians and Kurds too used to go outside upon the low hills and spend days in the cooler air picnicking to the accompaniment of music—and I suspected, in the case of the Christians, too much ’araq. But now, to venture outside the fringe of houses upon any except the north-east side was to court robbery, if not destruction. And then the futile talk of the “ta’qib,” or punishment that was to be dealt out to the tribe! We heard reports—and these seemed true—of regiments of soldiers from Anatolia and Mesopotamia collecting at Chemchemal, and judging from letters coming from Mosul and Bagdad, we were able to keep a check upon rumour, and ascertained that there were in reality some three or four thousand military, foot and “mule-riders,” gathered there—to extinguish a couple of hundred rough horsemen. All these troops were kept idle by the Mosul authorities to wait for a commander, and as long as funds from the shaikhs poured into the Mosul Vali’s pocket, the commander was kept engaged in pressing business elsewhere, and the Hamavands redoubled their audacity, actually raiding Chemchemal itself and killing some soldiers.

Meanwhile the state of the district was becoming worse, for travellers were threatened not only by roving parties of Jafs and Hamavands, but by the local soldiery also, for the “binbashis” had consumed what little cash could be collected for their pay, and the “muhasibichis,” or accountants, grew daily fatter upon sequestrated funds. Soldiers were leaving for their native places, or retiring over the frontier to Persia—taking with them their new Mauser rifles; and in Halabja a colonel commanded five half-tamed Kurdish levied men instead of his usual fifty.

Then the affair occurred which threw ridicule and despair alike upon the Turks of the district. A quarter “tabur,” or about one hundred men, was ordered to replenish the Sulaimania garrison, which from a normal five hundred men had fallen to thirty-four. These were also used to convoy about seventy rifles and proportionate ammunition for distribution among the frontier posts. They started from Chemchemal, commanded by a colonel (“binbashi”) and two majors (or “yuzbashi”), and accompanied by several “’askar katibi” (accountants), and other Government officials with their wives and families. Across the Chemchemal plain they saw no signs of Hamavands, though they threw out scouts, and those sent forward to reconnoitre at the Bazian cleft through the hills saw no one. Consequently they approached the break, where the sundered hill presents a V-shaped entrance to the Bazian plain, without misgiving. The place is so formed that from the Chemchemal side it is impossible to see ahead very far, as the ground rises, and the break is only about ten yards wide at the bottom, sloping up and away to the hill-tops.

A HAMAVAND ATTACK