He complained bitterly of the progress Christians were making, and doubtless would make under the régime of constitutional government; in speaking, his eyes flashed, he grew excited, the latent fanaticism in him boiled, and he longed to see the blood of these infidels spilt. With cries of disgust against the lukewarm sentiments of the Turkomans, he denounced Musulman and Christian alike, and frankly declared that he would like to see the heads of the latter adorning the barrack walls. This creature, who had naught but notoriety to gain from such a catastrophe, has several times attempted to harass the Christians, but they have found sufficient protection, and he sees himself foiled, and his proposals ignored every time he would rouse feeling against these harmless people. It took him the whole time of drinking three cups of tea to exhaust his fury, and we took leave of him, expressing no opinion upon his sentiments.
The watchmaker gave me an example of his hot temper, as we sat in the coffee-house afterwards. At his house he was visited one day by the sub-governor, a Constantinople Turk, and the talk turning upon poetry, the shaikh, who has Kurdish blood in him, was extolling the merits of Persian and even Kurdish verse, and expressing his scorn of Turkish. The Ottoman officer naturally objected, and rashly quoted a long poem terminating with the words:—
“Furukhta am bi sham’ u kafur u san sin.”
“Ah!” exclaimed the shaikh, seizing a perfect opportunity, “Furukhta am” is pure Persian, and “sham’ u kafur” are Arabic, and what Turkish remains, but a miserable insignificance? “u san sin,” the point coming in with the meaning of the Turkish—“and thou art it”—the miserable insignificance.[33]
About the tenth day of our stay there, the muleteer Rashid came along in great glee, saying that we should leave next morning, and that I had better lay in a stock of provisions for the journey, though, as he remarked, “God knows whether we shall eat our bread, or the Hamavand’s.”
Four regimental doctors had turned up from Mosul, appointed to Sulaimania, and they were to have as escort a “tabur,” or four hundred soldiers. The usual fiasco occurred to prevent our going, for the army, not having been paid for months, went on strike, and two hundred more appointed to replace them flatly refused to go, fearing to face the Hamavand, who had so barbarous a habit of thirsting for the guns and blood of the Turkish troops, and such a capacity for quenching the thirst. So we stayed.
As an instance of the self-imposed duties of the unattached Turkish officer, I may quote the following episode:—
Haji Rasul and myself were sitting in the dark one evening smoking our cigarettes, and conversing upon the usual topic of Persian politics, when a highly uniformed individual rolled up, and between hiccups gave vent to a hoarse “Salamun ’alaikum.” Without invitation he sat between us, and introducing himself to me as a major in some regiment, proceeded to bully Haji. It appeared that the old man had had some high words with one of the people, whom he employed to sell his sweets, and this officious busybody, overhearing, inserted himself between the two, constituting himself an arbitrator. Haji had naturally refused to have anything to do with such matters, but his opponent, seeing a chance of winning his case, commenced pouring out his woes to the officer. The old man in disgust had departed, leaving the pair, and laid his case before the mayor of the town.
A TURKISH OFFICER
The major, meanwhile, had settled the affair with the other litigant, arranging to receive two mejidies as a fee, and finding that Haji did not accept his mediation, came to try and bully him into acquiescence. Needless to say all the intimidation he could bring forth did not scare Haji, who threatened to throw him downstairs. He solved the question himself by falling over asleep, after a pause for the thought which his fuddled condition made difficult. Such are some—I hope not all—of the Sultan’s officers. This one had passed through the military school at Bagdad, but as I afterwards heard how this feat may be performed—being literally little more than a passage through the establishment in the case of certain favoured individuals—I understood how he had become a military officer.