"Certainly."
"Effendi, I have a Kateb (clerk), a good man—that fellow on the carpet. Look how beautifully he writes! He is nice-looking, too, and we all like him. But the Pacha, he has a Kateb. The fellow is hideous, besides that, he has a node in the middle of his forehead. The governor wishes to change Katebs with me. He says that he does not like a man with a node on his forehead; I do not like this either; and to sit all day long with a man who is so disfigured would make me very ill."
"It would make us all ill," observed the Armenians, eager to please the Caimacan.
"Yes," continued the latter; "Effendi, you would oblige us very much if you will tell the Pacha that I like my Kateb, and do not wish to part with him. A man with a node is a disgusting sight," he added.
"Very disgusting," said the Armenians—the man who spoke loudest being a Christian with a hump-back.
In the meantime Mohammed had made an arrangement with the owner of a large cayek to take us the following morning to Batoum, which would be about a nine hours' journey by water from Livana. We rode down to the bank of the river. Here, close by the bridge, was a large boat. It was half full of firewood, which was going to Batoum. Two oarsmen sat in the stern of the cayek, and two more in the bows. There were no rowers in the middle of the boat; this part was filled with wood, some other passengers, my party and self. Our fellow-travellers and the boatmen were Georgians. A very stout old gentleman who sat behind me was arrayed in a bright blue jacket and a large white turban; in addition to this he carried a gigantic scarlet umbrella. A few drops of rain began to fall; the umbrella was opened. Its happy possessor looked proudly round; he was an object of admiration and envy to the rest of his countrymen.
The boatmen, who were clad in brown serge jackets and trowsers, had their breasts covered with cartridge-cases, in the Circassian style. Each man carried a long silver-mounted dagger in his waist-belt, and a black cufia, a sort of head attire, was worn by them instead of a turban. The river, which was very high, ran through the arch of the bridge at a great pace. Mohammed's face became an ashen hue as the captain of the cayek, loosening the cord which bound his bark to the shore, pushed off into the boiling torrent. For the first second or two the oarsmen could not get any command over their boat. It turned round and round, missing, as it were, by a miracle the many rocks in the channel.
The rowers all this time were raising wild cries to Allah. Mohammed, who had crouched down in the bottom of the bark, was grasping Radford's hand in a paroxysm of terror. In another moment the crew succeeded in gaining the mastery over their craft. They steered her into the middle of the river. The current was running like a mill-stream. We flew rather than floated along the waters.
Numerous rocks interrupt the channel; some of them are forty and fifty feet above the surface; others can only be detected by the foam and surf which bubble over their dangerous peaks. The mountains on either side of us are of igneous stone; they are covered with green bushes. A white line winds amongst the heights; it marks the track to Batoum, an eighteen hours' march by land, but only nine by water. We pass the ruins of an old castle. We dart round a promontory. The scene changes. Vineyards deck the river's banks. Oxen can be seen ploughing the slopes above us. Many women, in bright red garments, and with white head-dresses, follow the plough. They knock to pieces the clods of earth with iron hoes. Waterfalls pour down the heights. The river grows wider; it becomes more rapid every moment. The wind is rising. The chief boatman remarks that we cannot arrive at Batoum that evening.
To reach the town it was necessary to enter the Black Sea; but to effect this in stormy weather, and in an undecked boat, would be impossible. We anchored for the night at the village of Miradet, four hours from Livana by the river, but twelve by land. I obtained accommodation in the house of the Mudir of the district. There were some cells in this building; in one of them was a prisoner—a deserter, who had run away from the army. There was a hearth in his dungeon, and Radford was permitted to cook there, the deserter taking great interest in the culinary operations.