The whole place had heard of the affair, and I passed a row of sympathetic Kurds as I left, who made uncomplimentary remarks anent all policemen and Government officials as I bade them good-morning.
From here I went to the caravanserai, and found Habib and Matti in a terrible stew, for they had already heard that I had been locked in a dungeon and fined heavily, and I was greeted by them and by the Kurdish merchants with a pleasant warmth as I entered the place, appearing to them as one who had escaped from certain disaster by a rare and wonderful luck.
Habib’s fear had been doubled, for the policeman, before he sent for me, had been to his shop and held an examination of him, hinting that by his actions and friendliness with me, a suspect, he laid himself out to punishment and fines. Altogether, Habib was in a sore mood, for he, being a progressive fellow, talking Turkish, had cultivated an acquaintance with the Turkish officials, and the policeman had naturally annoyed him sooner than Matti, who spoke only Arabic and Kurdish, but who had a great deal more to do with me than had Habib. Besides, the Kurds and Christians held it a splendid opportunity to chaff Habib over the desire for Turkish favour and acquaintance that had thus led him near danger.
Despite the satisfactory ending of the affair, I knew that now I had definitely made enemies of the officials in the place, and should be worried whenever possible. Sulaimania possessed no particular charms, and as the country was getting more and more disturbed each day—for the Hamavands now burned the posts—the prospect of business was absolutely nothing; so I began to consider the possibility of going away. Matti, to whom I carried most of my troubles, was gloomy, and predicted no good to anyone staying in Sulaimania. If they did not go now, he said, they would be forced to leave later, for with the shaikhs and Turks together, prices going up, taxes increasing, and security always doubtful, trade was ceasing to exist, and there would soon be no bread to buy, and no money to buy it with.
He was feeling very sore just then, for he had tried to get some carpets to Mosul by sending them via Keui Sanjaq, where the road was open, but they had been looted on the way. He now strongly advised me to leave Sulaimania if I could, but pointed out, at the same time, the impossibility of such a step, for several reasons. First, Hama was still at Halabja, the Jew not having fetched in the second consignment of “run,” and dallying in the villages; secondly, if I left matters thus, Matti could not be responsible for getting the money back, for, as he truly said, “An absentee owner is the blessing of the dishonest debtor, and the despair of the agent”; and then, worse than all, there was no road to anywhere, except to Persia, and I was not keen just at that moment to go there. Had I been able to get to Kermanshah, I might have done so, but the road by Juanru was absolutely impassable, and the Kalhur country was upside down, so a journey there was out of the question. I could have got to Mosul, but my object was Bagdad, and the roads there either via Kifri or Kirkuk were absolutely closed, the Hamavands making it their business to see that none passed. The posts now only went at intervals, and refused to carry anything larger than letters, which could be concealed under the clothing of the peasant who carried them, and even then the Hamavands sometimes caught him and beat him, burning the letters. So all I could do was, like Matti and the rest of them, sit quiet and wait.
THE SHAIKH UL ISLAM AGAIN
One morning Hama turned up unexpectedly with four loads of “run” that I had not been expecting, an instalment of the last amount. He also produced some tomans he had collected on account of the shoes. He had also had some interesting experience with the Shaikh ul Islam, that disagreeable person I had gone to Biara specially to see when I had been at Halabja. It appeared that one afternoon Hama had turned up as usual at Lady Adela’s “divan,” and had found the Shaikh ul Islam there. Without returning Hama’s salutation, he asked what he had done with his Christian master. This created quite a sensation, and Hama hardly knew what to say. Lady Adela and Uthman Pasha, who were both there, demanded explanations, and the Shaikh ul Islam rose and denounced me, saying that he had met me in Constantinople, where I wore European clothes; that there I professed to be a European, while here in Musulman garments I claimed to be a Persian. In Constantinople, he said, he was convinced that I was not a European. He failed to understand what I was, but thought it probable that I was not a Musulman, and I must have evil designs to have found my way in an unobtrusive manner thus to the heart of southern Kurdistan, with the Persian side of which I was familiar. He rose and denounced me as a spy, a maker of mischief and a danger to the country, and ended by cursing Hama for having anything to do with me. But he had been too hasty, for he received an unexpected rebuff from Lady Adela. She had apparently seen me saying my Musulman prayers on several occasions, and, with almost as much heat as the Shaikh ul Islam himself, defended me, saying that it was perfectly well known that I was a Persian of Shiraz, a fact which was evident also by my speech, and in this she was supported by Mansur, who strenuously denied that I was a Christian, for he also had seen me praying, and that in his own room. Others testified to my good faith, and the Shaikh ul Islam’s position began to appear uncomfortable, when Hama put the cap upon his discomfiture by an extraordinary statement. He recalled to the memory of those present my journey to Biara, and said he would now explain the reason of the Shaikh ul Islam’s enmity to me, and went on to describe how in Constantinople I had lent him a certain sum of money to help him to go back to his own country. This had never been repaid, and I had, on my way to Persia, purposely come by Sulaimania hoping to get back the loan, and for this purpose had visited the Shaikh ul Islam at Biara. He, wishing to evade his just debts, had repudiated it, and taken an attitude of enmity in order to scare me away; and now, finding that I was in the neighbourhood, doubtless hoped, by provoking a feeling hostile to me, to induce me to leave the district. The tables were now fairly turned, and Lady Adela, speaking for herself and the Pasha, signified their disapproval in forcible terms, and told the Shaikh ul Islam that unless he apologised to Hama there and then, they would eject him not only from their house, but from their lands. So with extremely bad grace he did so, and Hama came away covered with the glory that rests upon the vindicated and triumphant.
He was now the bearer of renewed invitations from Uthman Pasha, Lady Adela, and Tahir Beg, to stay with them at Halabja, and was full of schemes for extended trade under their protection. But he also bore bad news, for he had been escorting several loads of “run” and had lost one, worth the—to him—immense sum of forty tomans, or about seven pounds. The caravan he had accompanied had arrived at Sulaimania very early in the morning, and his attention being taken to a mule that had fallen, he had let his other loads go ahead, through a village outside the town.
THEFT OF A LOAD
Here someone had taken advantage of the absence of a guardian quietly to lead a donkey and his load into a courtyard, and the caravan passed on, the absence of the animal not being discovered till they got into Sulaimania. Hama had spent a morning raising witnesses to the theft, a quite possible thing, although no one could possibly have seen it, and having fixed the crime upon certain villagers in collusion with a rival dealer in “run,” he was going to find the police and have an enquiry held. It did not appear to me of much use to do anything, for I knew the matter must go to the police commissaire, and I knew also that he would take such steps in the affair as would fulfil two aims: one, that I should not receive my goods again; the other, that he should get out of this that emolument which he had hoped to gain by his prosecution of the passport scheme. However, the owner of the donkey would do his best to assist Hama, if the stuff were to be found, of which I was doubtful, for it was a thousand to one by now that it had been disposed of in jars and pots, and the skins destroyed. So I let Hama do what he could. Matti and Habib were much perturbed, swearing that the whole affair was arranged out of revenge by the police commissaire, and urging me to represent the matter to the temporary mutasarrif or governor, a certain colonel who was replacing the senior while he was at Chemchemal waiting to condemn the Hamavands—when caught.