The medical officer, an Italian, entered the room; he was about eighty years of age, and had been in Kotoor since 1847. His emoluments consist of ten piastres per head, which he receives from every one who passes along the Kotoor road from Persia to Turkey.
"A Russian came here the other day," observed the doctor. "He was disguised as a Persian, and thought that I did not recognize his nationality."
"What was the object of his journey?"
"Probably to stir up the Kurds, and invite the Armenians to rise against the Mussulmans," replied the doctor. "There is a great deal of mineral wealth in this neighbourhood," he continued; "coal and iron abound within two miles of this place."
"The Russians would like to take this territory for two reasons," remarked the governor; "first, because having Kotoor and Van, they would be able to make depôts and preparations for a march further south upon Bagdad and Mosul; and, secondly, on account of the mines in the district."
A Kurdish chieftain who lived near Bitlis had recently written to the Sultan, offering him the services of 20,000 men, in the event of a war between Turkey and Russia. His offer was accepted, and the loyal Kurd's heart had been gladdened by the present of a magnificent silk turban and a sword.
The mountaineers near Kotoor could all be relied upon by the Turks. But there was reason to mistrust the sincerity and good faith of the Kurds in the neighbourhood of Moush and Aleshkert. They were said to have recently received large sums of money, besides arms, from Russia.
"If the Russians were to be worsted, the Kurds would be the first to turn these arms against their quondam friends," added the governor; "for the people about Aleshkert are proverbial for one thing,—namely, that they always take the winning side."
The following morning I said good-bye to the hospitable old doctor, in whose house I had slept. He had kindly given me a bed in one corner of his room—he himself, and the rest of his family, having slept in the other.
We rode towards Van. It is about sixty miles distant from Kotoor. Our track for the first hour ran within the mountain gorge—a continuation of the Kotoor Pass, but which here is several miles wide. After riding by several Kurdish villages, we began to ascend a succession of rising slopes. Plateau after plateau, each higher than its neighbour, were extended in front of us; the snow at each moment became deeper. It was evident that we could not reach Van on that evening. I determined to break the journey at the village of Moullah Hassan, which would be about a ten hours' march from Kotoor. Several Kurdish merchants had joined our party; they were travelling from Khoi, and drove before them oxen and calves laden with timbaki (Persian tobacco).