The inhabitants of this little hamlet were Kurds, and the people did their best to make the newly-arrived soldiers comfortable. The latter were all fed at the expense of the villagers; each inhabitant giving as much bread as he could spare towards the rations of his countrymen. So far as I could learn, none of the soldiers had any money with them, and it was a five days' march to Erzeroum. But they evidently had solved the problem of how to get on without money; a week later I saw them arrive at their destination, and, with the exception of a few men laid up with frost-bite, they were not much the worse for their journey.
It was very slippery as we descended the slope which leads from Delan. We drove our horses before us; the little animals tacking from side to side, like ships beating against the wind, and putting their feet down with the greatest caution, so as to make sure of the ground before them. We then had to lead the animals up the mountains, Radford having great difficulty in wading through the snow, owing to his state of debility. Fortunately we soon arrived at a place where it was possible to ride. Here another path branched off to the village of Kargan, but continuing by our old track we shortly came to a fine stone bridge, called the Kutta Kupri. It is about seventy-five yards wide, and spans the river Euphrates.
We passed through a series of natural basins, each of them two or three miles in diameter, and after an eight hours' tiring march put up for the night in the village of Mohallata. It contains about 100 houses, and a small barracks, with quarters for a squadron of Zaptiehs.
A battalion of redifs had also halted here. The men had marched from Erzingan without having had anything to eat since they left that town—the soldiers had gone more than thirty hours without food. There were no grumblers in the ranks.
One of the sergeants appeared rather an intelligent fellow; I spoke to him about the matter.
"We came to a village," he said; "there was nothing to eat, and so we went without our dinners."
"Did the men make any remarks?"
"No, Effendi, they knew that the people would have given them food if they had any to spare. When we beat the Russians, go to St. Petersburg and conquer all their country for our Padishah," said the sergeant, "we shall have many paras, there will be plenty to eat. But our Padishah is poor now," continued the man sorrowfully, "he cannot give us any pay, there is no money in Stamboul."
The captain of the Zaptiehs accompanied me in my walk through the barracks. This officer was anxious to obtain his promotion.
"I am forty years of age," he remarked, "and a captain's pay is very little. It is not enough for me to keep a wife. I want to be married, but before that event can take place I must be a major. Shall you see the Pacha at Erzeroum?" he added.