This rather strong language was uttered in a loud tone, and as if the speakers did not care whether their observations met my ear or not.
"I tell you what it is!" I cried rather sternly to my unruly followers, and at the same time drawing my revolver; "I cannot reach you with my whip; but if you make any more insulting remarks, I shall send a bullet in your direction to teach you manners!"
"For the sake of heaven be quiet!" cried Mohammed to the Zaptiehs—for he, being directly in the line of fire, did not wish to expose himself as a shield to the delinquents.
"There will be no baksheesh unless you are as docile as horses," continued my Turkish servant.
This last remark, combined with my threat—which, it is needless to say, I had no intention to put into execution—brought the guides to their senses. Presently the stick of the leading Zaptieh struck against the track, and, after wading through the snow for some three hours more, we descended the side of the mountain. The snow disappeared as we reached the vale below, and deep mud, reaching above our knees, covered the track before us. It was terrible hard work for the baggage-horses. One of them, stumbling, fell prostrate in the mire. No amount of pressure would induce him to get up; so, taking off his pack-saddle and dividing the baggage as best we could—placing some on the saddle-horses and carrying the rest ourselves—we struggled on to a glimmering light which marked our quarters for the night.
The village of Yarbasan was reached. Sending back some of the villagers for the abandoned animal, I prepared to make myself as comfortable as the circumstances would allow.
In the meantime Radford and Mohammed were busily engaged in unloading the other baggage-horse. The pack-saddle was too broad to pass through the narrow gateway; all the luggage had to be unstrapped in the street—such a street as it was too! Imagine a farm-yard of the dirtiest description, and without any straw to absorb the filthy refuse; but even this does not convey to my own mind the hideous state of the road through Yarbasan. The inhabitants possessed many cattle, which were each evening driven into the village, so as to be out of the way of wolves. It had never occurred to the mind of the oldest villager to remove the deposits of their cows and oxen. If a farmer wished to pay a visit to a neighbour across the way, he simply tucked up his dressing-gown under his arm-pits, took off his slippers, broad trousers, and stockings, then, committing himself to Providence, he would wade through the dirt to his friend's house.
"Why do you not clean the street?" I inquired of my host, an old Turk, who, having just come in from the country, was rubbing his legs with some straw before the fire.
"The mud will dry up in the summer months," replied the man; "why trouble our heads about it now?"
The inside of the dwelling was not so clean as an average pig-sty. Horses, oxen, cows, and sheep were stowed away in the same room as ourselves. The Zaptiehs had squatted down in one corner with the host, Radford and Mohammed lay stretched out in the middle of the floor.