“Well brother, it is what we shall have to do, if you go on with your game of massacring all Christians. You will leave none to do the work on the land.”
The acted parable went home, as so often was the case in biblical times; and the proposed raid was countermanded.[{319}]
During the Italian and Bulgarian wars, there was of course much heated feeling among Mussulmans, and much wild talk of a massacre of all Christians. A Kurd indulging in that sort of swagger in a Christian village was countered by an argument which naturally no European would have expected, but which we have reason to believe had considerable weight in many quarters.
“Of course, you can massacre us,” said an old priest, “we are in your hands. But then, what will King George do?”
“King George!” said the Kurd contemptuously, “his arm does not reach to Kurdistan.”
“No, but he has millions of Mussulman rayats in India,” said the Christian. “If you kill us, think you that he will not take life for life from them?”
The Kurd was staggered. At first, he was disinclined to believe it possible for any Christian King to have Mussulman rayats. But when assured on that point, he quite admitted the probability—and more, the propriety—of King George retaliating on Mussulmans in India for anything their co-religionists might do to Christians in Kurdistan. The Oriental is quite philosopher enough to grasp the notion of solidarité.
Moreover it must be inferred that a Kurd has a ghost of a conscience. He does not himself expect to sleep quiet in his grave unless some Christian places a rag on it in token of forgiveness. It is a weird belief, but is fully accepted on all hands. A noted marauder was lately buried near Amadia, and three Tyari men passing his grave after nightfall heard awful groans proceeding from it. One, bolder than his comrades, went nearer, and found an asthmatic sheep. An unlucky discovery, for it utterly ruined the moral.
The character of the country is tamer than that we have just been traversing, for it is only in the most rugged and inaccessible gorges that the ashiret Christians have been able to maintain their independence. In these Berwar and Sapna districts, the wilder ranges have been left behind. The valleys are wider, and the hills are usually forest clad;[{320}] the prevailing tree being a small type of oak. Fortunately this is a valuable crop in itself, for it produces a very large oak-apple; and this is used freely in the dyeing of the local cloth, so that the trees have a good chance of preservation. The colours produced vary, according to the process, from pale yellow to dark brown; but as is always the case with pure vegetable dyes, all are excellent in tone, and a most gratifying contrast to the cold hard aniline dyes that European science has introduced to ruin the once beautiful carpets of this land.
The hills are mostly of limestone, and lie in long parallel ranges, due east and west, with steep crags and precipices on the crests, and long tree-clad slopes below. They gradually lose their elevation as they approach the Mosul plain; but even at the last stand up over that endless level with a startling abruptness. The rivers, true to their habit in this land of contradictions, burst clean through these ranges in their southern course, though they naturally receive tributaries in each one of the parallels.