In the present case the only shelter available was the veranda of the rais’ house; which afforded us a roof certainly, but no outer wall—only a wattle hurdle about five feet high. Here, however, we kindled a fire, and packed ourselves in pretty comfortably; though the night was made constantly hideous by the howling of the village dogs. Their uproar was not unjustified, for (as we were informed next morning) a scavenging pack of “you-eë-yahs” had been prowling round the hamlet all night. A “you-eë-yah” is a sort of hyæna which haunts the neighbourhood of villages, and gives intimation of its presence by incessantly howling out its own name. It is known alternatively as a Ghul or Sheitan because it is addicted to digging up and devouring the corpses buried in the graveyards; a foul and stealthy brute, but not dangerous to man. We had heard the howls all night intermittently between the volleys of barking, but had thought it was only the village cats taking their share in the row.
Next day the road was easier to follow; not because it was marked more clearly, but because its direction was defined by a string of Mohammedan cemeteries which were dotted across the moorland at intervals of three or four miles. These are small square walled enclosures, generally with a santon’s tomb in the middle, and with tall slender Moslem head-stones marking some of the principal graves. The country was open and undulating, but everywhere barren and pebbly; one can hardly as yet call it stony, as[{127}] that more emphatic word will be urgently needed later on. Here and there were traces of villages; but these were all abandoned and ruined, with nothing left but foundations, or a fragment or two of broken wall. The only inhabited villages stood high on the hills overlooking us, generally with an Agha’s castle planted somewhat aggressively in the midst.
There is something unnatural in this desertion, for the land might obviously be cultivated, and within the walls of the cemeteries there stand many well-grown trees.[76] But the key to the flight of the inhabitants is not the parsimony of nature:
Rookhope stands in a pleasant place
If the false thieves wad let it be.
And this essential condition is very conspicuously lacking in the country between Bavian and Akra, not to mention several districts further north; for across this ground twice a year pass that horde of human locusts, the wandering Heriki tribesmen; and one skinning every six months is more than any village can survive.
The Heriki are a large tribe of Kurdish nomads who possess no permanent domicile. They encamp in winter on the plain of Mosul, and in summer on the loftier and cooler plateau of Urmi; and with all their flocks and herds and their other possessions, they migrate every spring from Mosul to Urmi, and every autumn from Urmi to Mosul. It is not a good thing for a village to lie in the track of the Heriki, for everything that is not too hot or too heavy they annex and carry away. They “lift” the sheep and cattle first; then the rugs and kettles and pitchers and the scanty household plenishing; and they leave their hapless entertainers with nothing but bare walls and rags.
We had learned something of their thoroughness at our last night’s lodgings on the Khozr; for in the veranda of the rais’ house we had found three or four large bales, securely corded up in pieces of carpet, and had casually[{128}] asked what they were. Our poor host replied despondently that he was “warehousing” them for the Heriki. They would call upon him and claim them when next they passed that way. No; they paid him nothing for “warehousing,” but he had to be responsible for them; and he had to restore four-fold if any of the contents were lost.
“And what is in them?” we asked. The poor wretch grew even more dejected. “Oh, it is all my own property; my own rugs and cooking pots,” he replied. “That is to say part of it mine, and part the property of the other villagers, which the Heriki took from us when they plundered the village last time!”
So complete was the reign of terror which the impudent scoundrels had established, and so powerless was the Government to keep their depredations in check, that they could actually dragoon their victims into keeping their own plunder till they called for it, and go off for six months quite confident that their orders would be implicitly obeyed!
Our day’s stage ended at Akra; a considerable mountain township and the seat of a Turkish kaimakam, a departmental governor, subordinate in the present instance to the Vali of the province of Mosul. Akra displays itself most imposingly to a traveller approaching from the westward, and indeed forms a striking spectacle from whatever point it is viewed. Behind it a group of steep-pitched ridges are gabled out from the main mountain chain like a range of gigantic dormers, and drop down in rugged hipped ends to the level plain far below. Their crests are hacked and indented like the “dissipated saw” of the Bab Ballads, and the intervening gorges are half choked with the avalanches of boulders which have cascaded down their flanks. The lower portions of these gorges are filled with trees which grow in the terraced garden plots alongside the little rivulets, but the upper slopes are all bare and tawny like broken craters of half-baked clinker brick.