Our destinations and the distances formed fruitful topics of conversation with the men, and generally ended in amicable wrangles.
X having made out from the khanji[ [3] that it was ten hours' ride from Tchaym to Ulu Kishla, asked Rejeb's opinion on the matter.
Rejeb. Eleven hours.
Mustapha. No, no, twelve hours. Tchaym to Ulu Kishla twelve hours.
X. No, no, ten hours.
Rejeb and Mustapha (in chorus). No, no, the Pasha Effendi goes like the post.
X. It is ten hours; Rejeb and Mustapha go like camels. (Roars of laughter.)
Rejeb. It is Mustapha and the little Pasha Effendi who go like camels, javash, javash (slowly, slowly).
At Ulu Kishla we lunched in a huge khan, half in ruins, the size of which suggested the almost inconceivable size of the caravans which must have passed in better days. Here we decided to send the arabas on with half the escort, to await us at the next stage on the main road. Taking Hassan and Rejeb and one of the Zaptiehs with us, we branched off to visit Boulghar Maden, the highest village of the Taurus, noted for its silver mines. It was a rough ride up; now over chunks of rock, now along slippery grass slopes, then rock again and sliding bits of stone.