For a full mile up the mountain road, and with a patient insistence quite commendable in itself, they persist in their aggravating attentions; aggravating, notwithstanding that they remain in the best of humor, and treat me with the greatest consideration in every other respect, promptly and severely checking any unruly conduct among the youngsters, which once or twice reveals itself in the shape of a stone pitched into the wheel, or some other pleasantry peculiar to the immature Turkish mind. At length one enterprising young man, with wild visions of a flying wheelman descending the mountain road with lightning-like velocity, comes prominently to the fore, and unblushingly announces that they have been bringing me along the wrong road; and, with something akin to exultation in his gestures, motions for me to turn about and ride back. Had the others seconded this brilliant idea there was nothing to prevent me from being misled by the statement; but his conduct is at once condemned; for though pig-headed, they are honest of heart, and have no idea of resorting to trickery to gain their object. It now occurs to me that perhaps if I turn round and ride down hill a short distance they will see that my trundling up hill is really a matter of necessity instead of choice, and thus rid me of their undesirable presence. Hitherto the slope has been too abrupt to admit of any such thought, but now it becomes more gradual. As I expected, the proposition is heralded with unanimous shouts of approval, and I take particular care to stipulate that after this they are to follow me no farther; any condition is acceptable to them as long as it includes seeing how the thing is ridden. It is not without certain misgivings that I mount and start cautiously down the declivity between two rows of turbaned and fez-bedecked heads, for I have not yet forgotten the disagreeable actions of the mob at Adrianople in running up behind and giving the bicycle vigorous forward pushes, a proceeding that would be not altogether devoid of danger here, for besides the gradient, one side of the road is a yawning chasm. These people, however, confine themselves solely to howling with delight, proving themselves to be well- meaning and comparatively well-behaved after all. Having performed my part of the compact, a few of the leading men shake hands, and express their gratitude and well-wishes; and after calling back several youngsters who seem unwilling to abide by the agreement forbidding them to follow any farther, the whole noisy company proceed along footpaths leading down the cliffs to town, which is in plain view almost immediately below.
The entire distance between Torbali and Keshtobek, where tomorrow forenoon I cross over into the vilayet of Angora, is through a rough country for bicycling. Forest-clad mountains, rocky gorges, and rolling hills characterize the landscape; rocky passes lead over mountains where the caravans, engaged in the exportation of mohair ever since that valuable commodity first began to be exported, have worn ditch-like trails through ridges of solid rock three feet in depth; over the less rocky and precipitous hills beyond a comprehensive view is obtained of the country ahead, and these time-honored trails are seen leading in many directions, ramifying the country like veins of one common system, which are necessarily drawn together wherever there is but one pass. Parts of these commercial by-ways are frequently found to be roughly hedged with wild pear and other hardy shrubs indigenous to the country-the relics of by-gone days, planted when these now barren hills were cultivated, to protect the growing crops from depredation. Old mill-stones with depressions in the centre, formerly used for pounding corn in, and pieces of hewn masonry are occasionally seen as one traverses these ancient trails, marking the site of a village in days long past, when cultivation and centres of industry were more conspicuous features of Asia Minor than they are to- day; lone graves and graves in clusters, marked by rude unchiselled headstones or oblong mounds of bowlders, are frequently observed, completing the scene of general decay. While riding along these tortuous ways, the smooth-worn camel-paths sometimes affording excellent wheeling, the view ahead is often obstructed by the untrimmed hedges on either side, and one sometimes almost comes into collision, in turning a bend, with horsemen, wild-looking, armed formidably in the manner peculiar to the country, as though they were assassins stealing forth under cover. Occasionally a female bestriding a donkey suddenly appears but twenty or thirty yards ahead, the narrowness and the crookedness of the hedged-in trail favoring these abrupt meetings; shrouded perhaps in a white abbas, and not infrequently riding a white donkey, they seldom fail to inspire thoughts of ghostly equestriennes gliding silently along these now half- deserted pathways. Many a hasty but sincere appeal is made to Allah by these frightened ladies as they fancy themselves brought suddenly face to face with the evil one; more than once this afternoon I overhear that agonizing appeal for providential aid and protection of which I am the innocent cause. The second thought of the lady - as if it occurred to her that with any portion of her features visible she would be adjudged unworthy of divine interference in her behalf - is to make sure that her yashmak is not disarranged, and then comes a mute appeal to her attendant, if she have one, for some explanation of the strange apparition so suddenly and unexpectedly confronting them.
In view of the nature of the country and the distance to Keshtobek, I have no idea of being able to reach that place to-night, and when I arrive at the ruins of an old mud-built khan, at dusk, I conclude to sup off the memories of my excellent dinner and a piece of bread I have in my pocket, and avail myself of its shelter for the night. While eating my frugal repast, up ride three mule-teers, who, after consulting among themselves some minutes, finally picket their animals and prepare to join my company; whether for all night or only to give their animals a feed of grass, I am unable to say. Anyhow, not liking the idea of spending the whole night, or any part of it, in these unfrequented hills with three ruffianly-looking natives, I again take up my line of march along mountain mule-paths for some three miles farther, when I descend into a small valley, and it being too dark to undertake the task of pitching my tent, I roll myself up in it instead. Soothed by the music of a babbling brook, I am almost asleep, when a glorious meteor shoots athwart the sky, lighting up the valley with startling vividness for one brief moment, and then the dusky pall of night descends, and I am gathered into the arms of Morpheus. Toward morning it grows chilly, and I am but fitfully dozing in the early gray, when I am awakened by the bleating and the pattering feet of a small sea of Angora goats. Starting up, I discover that I am at that moment the mysterious and interesting subject of conversation between four goatherds, who have apparently been quietly surveying my sleeping form for some minutes. Like our covetous friends beyond the Kara Su Pass, these early morning acquaintances are unlovely representatives of their profession; their sword-blades are half naked, the scabbards being rudely fashioned out of two sections of wood, roughly shaped to the blade, and bound together at top and bottom with twine; in addition to which are bell-mouthed pistols, half the size of a Queen Bess blunderbuss. This villainous-looking quartette does not make "a very reassuring picture in the foreground of one's waking moments, but they are probably the most harmless mortals imaginable; anyhow, after seeing me astir, they pass onl with their flocks and herds without even submitting me to the customary catechizing. The morning light reveals in my surroundings a most charming little valley, about half a mile wide, walled in on the south by towering mountains covered with a forest of pine and cedar, and on the north by low, brush-covered hills; a small brook dances along the middle, and thin pasturage and scattered clumps of willow fringe the stream. Three miles down the valley I arrive at a roadside khan, where I obtain some hard bread that requires soaking in water to make it eatable, and some wormy raisins; and from this choice assortment I attempt to fill the aching void of a ravenous appetite; with what success I leave to the reader's imagination. Here the khan-jee and another man deliver themselves of one of. those strange requests peculiar to the Asiatic Turk. They pool the contents of their respective treasuries, making in all perhaps, three medjedis, and, with the simplicity of children whose minds have not yet dawned upon the crooked ways of a wicked world, they offer me the money in exchange for my Whitehouse leather case with its contents. They have not the remotest idea of what the case contains; but their inquisitiveness apparently overcomes all other considerations. Perhaps, however, their seemingly innocent way of offering me the money may be their own peculiar deep scheme of inducing me to reveal the nature of its contents. For a short distance down the valley I find road that is generally ridable, when it contracts to a mere ravine, and the only road is the bowlder strewn bed of the stream, which is now nearly dry, but in the spring is evidently a raging torrent. An hour of this delectable exercise, and I emerge into a region of undulating hills, among which are scattered wheat-fields and clusters of mud-hovels which it would be a stretch of courtesy to term villages. Here the poverty of the soil, or of the water-supply, is heralded to every observant eye by the poverty-stricken appearance of , the villagers. As I wheel along, I observe that these poor half-naked wretches are gathering their scant harvest by the laborious process of pulling it up by the roots, and carrying it to their common threshing-floor on donkeys' backs. Here, also, I come to a camp of Turkish gypsies; they are dark- skinned, with an abundance of long black hair dangling about their shoulders, like our Indians; the women and larger girls are radiant in scarlet calico and other high-colored fabrics, and they wear a profusion of bead necklaces, armlets, anklets, and other ornaments dear to the semi-savage mind; the younger children are as wild and as innocent of clothing as their boon companions, the dogs. The men affect the fez and general Turkish style of dress, with many unorthodox trappings and embellishments, however; and with their own wild appearance, their high- colored females, naked youngsters, wolfish-looking dogs, picketed horses, and smoke-browned tents, they make a scene that, for picturesqueness, can give odds even to the wigwam-villages of Uncle Sam's Crow scouts, on the Little Big Horn River, Montana Territory, which is saying a good deal. Twelve miles from my last night's rendezvous, I pass through Keshtobek, a village that has evidently seen better days. The ruins of a large stone khan take up all the central portion of the place; massive gateways of hewn stone, ornamented by the sculptor's chisel, are still standing, eloquent monuments of a more prosperous era. The unenterprising descendants of the men who erected this substantial and commodious retreat for passing caravans and travellers are now content to house themselves and their families in tumble-down hovels, and to drift aimlessly and unambitiously along on wretched fare and worse clothes, from the cradle to the grave. The Keshtobek people seem principally interested to know why I am travelling without any zaptieh escort; a stranger travelling through these wooded mountains, without guard or guide, and not being able to converse with the natives, seems almost beyond their belief. When they ask me why I have no zaptieh, I tell them I have one, and show them the Smith & Wesson. They seem to regard this as a very witty remark, and say to each other: "He is right; an English effendi and an American revolver don't require any zapliehs to take care of them, they are quite able to look out for themselves." From Keshtobek my road leads down another small valley, and before long I find myself in the Angora vilayet, bowling briskly eastward over a most excellent road; not the mule-paths of an hour ago, but a broad, well-graded highway, as good, clear into Nalikhan, as the roads of any New England State. This sudden transition is not unnaturally productive of some astonishment on my part, and inquiries at Nalikhan result in the information that my supposed graded wagon-road is nothing less than the bed of a proposed railway, the preliminary grading for which has been finished between Keshtobek and Angora for some time.
This valley seems to be the gateway into a country entirely different from what I have hitherto traversed. Unlike the forest-crowned mountains and shrubbery hills of this morning, the mountains towering aloft on every hand are now entirely destitute of vegetation; but they are in nowise objectionable to look upon on that account, for they have their own peculiar features of loveliness. Various colored rocks and clays enter into their composition; their giant sides are fantastically streaked and seamed with blue, yellow, green, and red; these variegated masses encompassing one round about on every side are a glorious sight-they are more interesting, more imposing, more grand and impressive even than the piny heights of Kodjaili. Many of these mountains bear evidence of mineral formation, and anywhere in the Occident would be the scene of busy operations. In Constantinople I heard an English mineralist, who has lived many years in the country, express the belief that there is more mineral buried in these Asia Minor hills than in a corresponding area in any other part of the world; that he knew people who for years have had their eye on certain localities of unusual promise waiting patiently for the advantages of mineral development to dawn upon the sluggish mind of Osmanli statesmen. At present it is useless to attempt prospecting, for there is no guarantee of security; no sooner is anything of value discovered than the finder is embarrassed by imperial taxes, local taxes, backsheesh, and all manner of demands on his resources, often ending in having everything coolly confiscated by the government; which, like the dog in the manger, will do nothing with it, and is perfectly contented and apathetic so long as no one else is reaping any benefit from it.
The general ridableness of this chemin de fer, as the natives have been taught to call it, proves not to be without certain disadvantages, for during the afternoon I unwittingly manage to do considerable mischief. Suddenly meeting two horsemen, when bowling at a moderate pace around a bend, the horse of one takes violent exception to my intrusion, and, in spite of the excellent horsemanship of his rider, backs down into a small ravine, both horse and rider coming to grief in some water at the bottom. Fortunately, neither man nor horse sustained any more serious injury than a few scratches and bruises, though it might easily have resulted in broken bones. Soon after this affair, another donkey-rider takes to his heels, or rather to his donkey's heels across country, and his long- eared and generally sure-footed charger ingloriously comes to earth; but I feel quite certain that no damage is sustained in this case, for both steed and rider are instantly on their feet; the bold steeple-chaser looks wildly and apprehensively toward me, but observing that I am giving chase, it dawns upon his mind that I am perhaps after all a human being, whereupon he refrains from further flight.
Wheeling down the gentle declivity of a broad, smooth road that almost deserves the title of boulevard, leading through the vineyards and gardens of Nalikhan's environments, at quite a rattling pace, I startle a quarry of four dears (deers) robed in white mantles, who, the moment they observe the strange apparition approaching them at so vengeful a speed, bolt across a neighboring vineyard like the all-possessed. The rapidity of their movements, notwithstanding the impedimenta of their flowing shrouds, readily suggests the idea of a quarry of dears (deer), but whether they are pretty dears or not, of course, their yashmaks fail to reveal; but in return for the beaming smile that lights up our usually solemn-looking countenance at their ridiculously hasty flight, as a reciprocation pure and simple, I suppose we ought to give them the benefit of the doubt.
The evening at Nalikhan is a comparatively happy occasion; it is Friday, the Mussulman Sabbath; everybody seems fairly well-dressed for a Turkish interior town; and, more important than all, there is a good, smooth road on which to satisfy the popular curiosity; on 'this latter fact depends all the difference between an agreeable and a disagreeable time, and at Nalikhan everything passes off pleasantly for all concerned. Apart from the novelty of my conveyance, few Europeans have ever visited these interior places under the same conditions as myself. They have usually provided themselves beforehand with letters of introduction to the pashas and mudirs of the villages, who have entertained them as their guests during their stay. On the contrary, I have seen fit to provide myself with none of these way-smoothing missives, and, in consequence of my linguistic shortcomings, immediately upon reaching a town I have to surrender myself, as it were, to the intelligence and good-will of the common people; to their credit be it recorded, I can invariably count on their not lacking at least the latter qualification. The little khan I stop at is, of course, besieged by the usual crowd, but they are a happy-hearted, contented people, bent on lionizing me the best they know how; for have they not witnessed my marvellous performance of riding an araba, a beautiful web-like araba, more beautiful than any makina they ever saw before, and in a manner that upsets all their previous ideas of equilibrium. Have I not proved how much I esteem them by riding over and over again for fresh batches of new arrivals, until the whole population has seen the performance. And am I not hobnobbing and making myself accessible to the people, instead of being exclusive and going straightway to the pasha's, shutting myself up and permitting none but a few privileged persons to intrude upon my privacy . All these things appeal strongly to the better nature of the imaginative Turks, and not a moment during the whole evening am I suffered to be unconscious of their great appreciation of it all. A bountiful supper of scrambled eggs fried in butter, and then the miilazim of zaptiehs takes me under his special protection and shows me around the town. He shows me where but a few days ago the Nalikhan bazaar, with all its multifarious merchandise, was destroyed by fire, and points out the temporary stalls, among the black ruins, that have been erected by the pasha for the poor merchants who, with heavy hearts and doleful countenance, are trying to recuperate their shattered fortunes. He calls my attention to two-story wooden houses and other modest structures, which, in the simplicity of his Asiatic soul, he imagines are objects of interest; and then he takes me to the headquarters of his men, and sends out for coffee in order to make me literally his guest. Here, in his office, he calls my attention to a chromo hanging on the wall, which he says came from Stamboul - Stamboul, where the Asiatic Turk fondly imagines all wonderful things originate.This chromo is certainly a wonderful thing in its way. It represents an English trooper in the late Soudan expedition kneeling behind the shelter of a dead camel, and with a revolver in each hand keeping at bay a crowd of Arab spearmen. The soldier is badly wounded, but with smoking revolvers and an evident determination to die hard, he has checked, and is still checking, the advance of somewhere about ten thousand Arab troops. No wonder the people of Keshtobek thought an Englishman and a revolver quite safe in travelling without zaptiehs; some of them had probably been to Nalikhan and seen this same chromo.
When it grows dark the mulazim takes me to the public coffee-garden, near the burned bazaar, a place which ia really no garden at all only some broad, rude benches encircling a round water-tank or fountain, and which is fenced in with a low, wabbly picket-fence. Seated crossed-legged on the benches are a score of sober-sided Turks, smoking nargilehs and cigarettes, and sipping coffee; the feeble light dispensed by a lantern on top of a pole in the centre of the tank makes the darkness of the "garden" barely visible; a continuous splashing of water, the result of the overflow from a pipe projecting three feet above the surface, furnishes the only music; the sole auricular indication of the presence of patrons is when some customer orders "kahvay" or "nargileh" in a scarcely audible tone of voice; and this is the Turk's idea of an evening's enjoyment.
Returning to the khan, I find it full of happy people looking at the bicycle; commenting on the wonderful marifet (skill) apparent in its mechanism, and the no less marvellous marifet required in riding it. They ask me if I made it myself and hatch-lira ? (how many liras ?) and then requesting the privilege of looking at my teskeri they find rare amusement in comparing my personal charms with the description of my form and features as interpreted by the passport officer in Galata. Two men among them have in some manner picked up a sand from the sea-shore of the English language. One of them is a very small sand indeed, the solitary negative phrase, "no;" nevertheless, during the evening he inspires the attentive auditors with respect for his linguistic accomplishments by asking me numerous questions, and then, anticipating a negative reply, forestalls it himself by querying, "No?" The other "linguist" has in some unaccountable manner added the ability to say "Good morning " to his other accomplishments; and when about time to retire, and the crowd reluctantly bestirs itself to depart from the magnetic presence of the bicycle, I notice an extraordinary degree of mysterious whispering and suppressed amusement going on among them, and then they commence filing slowly out of the door with the "linguistic person" at their head; as that learned individual reaches the threshold he turns toward we, makes a salaam and says, "Good-morning," and everyone of the company, even down to the irrepressible youngster who was cuffed a minute ago for venturing to twirl a pedal, and who now forms the rear- guard of the column, likewise makes a salaam and says, "Good-morning."
Quilts are provided for me, and I spend the night on the divan of the khan; a few roving mosquitoes wander in at the open window and sing their siren songs around my couch, a few entomological specimens sally forth from their permanent abode in the lining of the quilts to attack me and disturb my slumbers; but later experience teaches me to regard my slumbers to-night as comparatively peaceful and undisturbed. In the early morning I am awakened by the murmuring voices of visitors gathering to see me off; coffee is handed to me ere my eyes are fairly open, and the savory odor of eggs already sizzling in the pan assail my olfactory nerves. The khan-jee is an Osmanli and a good Mussulman, and when ready to depart I carelessly toss him my purse and motion for him to help himself-a thing I would not care to do with the keeper of a small tavern in any other country or of any other nation. Were he entertaining me in a private capacity he would feel injured at any hint of payment; but being a khan- jee, he opens the purse and extracts a cherik - twenty cents.