Some conversation ensued, a farmer at last offered 10 liras for the five horses.
"The Effendi gave 16 liras for the grey at Stamboul," remarked my servant.
"Ardahan is not Stamboul," replied the Circassian; "the horses have carried the Effendi a very long distance."
"This proves that they are good animals," said Mohammed.
"It shows that they were good horses," observed the Circassian drily.
No one would bid any higher, and as I was in a hurry to start, I agreed to accept 7½ liras for my own four horses, letting Mohammed have 2½ for his own Rosinante-like steed. Seven liras and a half, or 6l. 15s. is not a great price for four serviceable animals. I could have obtained the same amount for four dead horses in London. However, my stud had carried us for more than two thousand miles, over a country without roads, and for the greater part of the distance through snow. I could not complain that the animals had been dearly purchased. It cost me a pang to part with the little grey. He was a sterling good horse, and in England would have been worth from 60l. to 70l. The sale was concluded. In a few minutes I was receiving from the Circassian a pile of Turkish bank-notes, which he extracted one by one from some hiding-place next his skin.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Ardanusch—The Ardahan river—Shadavan scenery—Crossing the mountains—The roof of the world—The Tschorock river—Mohammed is afraid—Kismet—If a Christian is ill—Going to Paradise—Does a Christian send for a doctor?—A vast amphitheatre—Kale or the old fortress of Ardanusch—Akiska—War—The Mostaphas are to be called out—The road to Livana—The cayek.
We rode by several Turkish and Kurd villages in the direction of Ardanusch. The track was firm and tolerably level. After a four hours' march we crossed the Ardahan river on a wooden bridge about seventy yards long by sixteen feet wide. The structure was very much out of repair; the planks were loose in many places, here and there large holes in the timber let us see the river below. We halted at Shadavan, a Turkish village containing about thirty houses, and close to the water's edge. I had intended to have made a longer march, but the hired steeds were wretched brutes. They had shown unmistakable signs of fatigue. The proprietor of the house in which we stopped owned large flocks of sheep, the country round Ardahan being chiefly grazing land. He informed me that for every thousand sheep he possessed, the tax collector took from him the sum of thirty liras annually. There was no tax for sheep under a year old, nor for cows and oxen.
Two hours after leaving Shadavan, the path crossed a high mountain. It was covered with its winter garb; this fortunately was frozen hard and afforded a firm foothold. The scenery around us became each moment more wild; fir-trees, shaded in their cold white robes, embroider the sides of the steep; huge rocks, their northern faces covered with snow, but black as ebony towards the south, frown down on the glistening carpet. The track wound higher and higher. A thick oppressive mist enveloped us like a shroud. We were above the clouds. The air became each moment more rarefied. We breathed with difficulty, owing to our elevation. It seemed at last as if we had reached the roof of the earth. A plateau lay before us.