"We shall then have some game to show when we return," he continued, "and the people will not be able to laugh at our beards."
"Vankovitch is a wonderful shot," said another Turk. "He shoots partridges flying! Only think! flying in the air! In the name of heaven, is it not wonderful? Can you hit a partridge, except when he is quite still?"
"Sometimes," I said; "but, unfortunately, most of my cartridges are wet; any how, I will try and find a few dry ones, and will go with you to-morrow."
"There is another thing which you must see before you leave Yuzgat," observed Daravish Bey, "and that is our national game, Djerrid. I have already spoken about it," he continued; "the day after to-morrow all the best riders in the neighbourhood will assemble on the plain outside the town. In the meantime, I hope that you will dine with me this evening."
"But I am staying with an Armenian gentleman, and he will expect me to dine at home."
"Bring him with you. Nay, do not disappoint me," he added. "It is many years since an Englishman has been at Yuzgat, and we do not know how to honour one sufficiently when he is here. England and Turkey are old allies, and God grant that they may remain so!"
I returned to my quarters, and found the Caimacan, who had come to pay me a visit. He was very busy, as he had to arrange for some redif soldiers who were to be despatched at once to Constantinople. After a few compliments and a cup of coffee, he arose and took his departure.
My host now observed,—
"Effendi, will you do me a favour?"
"What is it?" I inquired.