Chapter 19 | Adventures in the Hills | Yussuf the Guide

“All the result of coming among savages,” grumbled Mr Burne. “Anyone would think that the Turks had never learned the use of the pocket-handkerchief.”

“I do not suppose many of them have arrived at your pitch of accomplishment,” said the professor, laughing, as they rode on along the faint track in and out of the loveliest valleys, where nature was constantly tempting them to stop and gaze at some fresh beauty. But there was every prospect of darkness overtaking them before they reached the little mountain village where they were to rest for the night; and as the time went on the beauties of nature were forgotten in the all-powerful desire to overtake the driver with the two baggage-horses, laden with that which was extremely precious to so many hungry travellers, and at every turn their eyes were strained in front to look upon the welcome sight.

“Not so much as a tail,” muttered Mr Burne. “I say,” he said aloud, “what’s become of that baggage?”

Yussuf was understood to say that the man must have made haste, and that they would find him at the village.

But if that was what the Muslim had said, he was wrong. For when in the darkness, after what had become quite a dangerous finish to their journey along the edge of a shelf of rock, where, far below, the rushing and gurgling of a torrent could be heard, they reached the cluster of houses and the miserable khan, one thing was evident, and that was that the baggage had not arrived.

“What is to be done, Yussuf?” said the professor. “Must we go back and search for it?”

“We could do nothing in the dark, effendi,” was the reply. “The path is safe enough in daylight; by night the risk is too great.”

“But he may come yet,” exclaimed Mr Burne.

Yussuf only shook his head, and said that they must wait.

But he did not waste time, for he sought out the head-man of the village to ask for a resting-place for his employers, with a supply of the best food the village could afford, and barley for the horses.

The man surlily replied that they had not enough food for themselves, and that the barley had all gone to pay the taxes. They must go somewhere else.

It was now that the weary and hungry travellers found out the value of Yussuf.

For he came to the professor, as they sat together on their tired horses, and held out his hand.

“Give me the firman, excellency,” he said. “These miserable people have been robbed and plundered by travellers who ask their hospitality, till they are suspicious of all strangers. Let me show the head-man the sultan’s command before I use force.”

The professor handed the document, and Yussuf walked straight to where the head-man was standing aloof, caught him by the shoulder and pushed him inside his house, where he made him read the order.

The effect was magical. The man became obsequious directly; the horses were led to a rough kind of stable; barley was found for them, a sturdy fellow removed bridles and saddles, and carried them into a good-sized very bare-looking room in the house, which he informed them was to be their chamber for the night.

Here a smoky lamp was soon lit; rugs were brought in, and before long a rough meal of bread, and eggs and fruit was set before them, followed by some coffee, which, if not particularly good, was warm and refreshing in the coolness of the mountain air.

The lamp burned low, and they were glad to extinguish it at last, and then lie down upon the rugs to sleep.

It seemed strange and weird there in the darkness of that room. Only a few hours before, they were in the heated plain; now by the gradual rise of the road they were high up where the mountain-breeze sighed among the cedars, and blew in through the unglazed window.

There was a sense of insecurity in being there amongst unfriendly strangers, and Lawrence realised the necessity for going about armed, and letting the people see that travellers carried weapons ready for use.

Twice over that day they had passed shepherds who bore over their shoulders what, at a distance, were taken for crooks, but which proved on nearer approach to be long guns, while each man had a formidable knife in his sash.

But, well-armed though they were, Lawrence could not trust himself to sleep. He was horribly weary, and ached all over with his long ride, but he could not rest. There was that open window close to the ground, and it seemed to him to offer great facilities for a bloodthirsty man to creep in and rob and murder, if he chose, before the sleepers could move in their own defence.

It was a window that looked like a square patch of transparent blackness, with a point or two of light in the far distance that he knew were stars. That was the danger, and he lay and watched it, listening to the breathing of his friends.

The door gave him no concern, for Yussuf had stretched himself across it after the fashion of a watchdog, and he too seemed to sleep.

How time went Lawrence could not tell, but he could not even doze, and the time seemed terribly long. His weariness increased, and, in addition, he began to feel feverish, and his skin itched and tingled as if every now and then an exquisitely fine needle had punctured it.

The restlessness and irritation ceased not for a moment, and he realised now that he must have caught same disease peculiar to the country. A fever, of course, but he knew enough of the laws of such complaints, from his long life of sickness, to feel that this was not a regular fever, for he perspired too freely, and his head was cool.

He tossed from side to side, but there was no rest, and when at last the window faded from his sight, and he became insensible to what was going on around him, he was still conscious of that peculiar irritation, that prickled and itched and stung and burned, till he dreamed that he was travelling through a stinging-nettle wood that led up to a square window, through which a fierce-looking Turk armed with pistols and dagger crept to come and rob him.

It was all dreadfully real, and, in the midst of his fear and agony, he could not help feeling that he was foolish to wish that the Guilford Street police-sergeant, whom he had so often seen stop by one particular lamp-post at the corner to speak to one of his men, would come now, for he had a sensation that this must be quite out of his beat.

And all the time the fierce-looking Turk was coming nearer, and at last seized him, and spoke in a low whisper.

He saw all this mentally, for his eyes were closed; but, as he opened them and gazed upwards, a broad band of pale light came through the square window, falling right on the stern face of the Turk as he bent over him just as he had fancied in his sleep.

For the moment he was about to speak. Then he calmed down and uttered a sigh as he realised the truth.

“Is that you, Yussuf?” he said.

“Yes,” was the reply. “It is morning, and I thought you might like to see the sun rise from the mountain here.”

“Yes, I should,” said Lawrence, uttering another sigh full of relief; “but I am not well. I itch and burn—my neck, my face, my arms.”

“Yes,” said Yussuf sadly, as if speaking of a trouble that was inevitable.

“Is it a fever coming on?”

“Fever?” said Yussuf smiling; “oh, no! the place swarms with nasty little insects. These rugs are full.”

“Ugh!” ejaculated Lawrence, jumping up and giving himself a rub and a shake. “How horrid, to be sure!”

Yussuf would not let him go far from the house, merely led him to a spot where the view was clear, and then let him gaze for a few minutes as the great orange globe rolled up and gilded the mists that lay in the hollows among the hills. Then he returned to the house and prepared the scanty breakfast, of which they partook before going off in search of the missing baggage-horses and their load.

Three hours were consumed in seeking out the spot where the man who had charge of the two animals had gone from his right path. It was very natural for him to have done so, for the road forked here, and he pursued that which seemed the most beaten way. Down here he had journeyed for hours, and when at last he had come to the conclusion that he had gone wrong, instead of turning back he had calmly accepted his fate, unloaded the animals, made himself a fire out of the abundant wood that lay around, and there he waited patiently until he was found.

It was a hindrance so soon after their starting; but Yussuf seemed to set so good an example of patience and forbearance that the professor followed it, and Mr Burne was compelled to accept the position.

“We shall have plenty of such drawbacks,” Mr Preston said; “and we must recollect that we are not in the land of time-tables and express trains.”

“We seem to be in the land of no tables at all, not even chairs,” grumbled Mr Burne; “but there, I don’t complain. Go on just as you please. I’ll keep all my complaints till I get back, and then put them in a big book.”

A week of steady slow travelling ensued, during which time they were continually journeying in and out among the mountains, following rough tracks, or roads as they were called, whose course had been suggested by that of the streams that wandered between the hills. Often enough the way was the dried-up bed of some torrent, amidst whose boulders the patient little Turkish horses picked their way in the most sure-footed manner.

It was along such a track as this that they were going in single file one day, for some particular reason that was apparently known only to the professor and Yussuf. They seemed to be deep down in the earth, for the rift along which they travelled was not above twenty feet wide, and on the one side the rock rose up nearly three thousand feet almost perpendicularly, while, on the other, where it was not perpendicular, it appeared to overhang.

Now and then it opened out a little more. Then it contracted, and seemed as if ere long the sides of the ravine would touch; but always when it came to this, it opened out directly after.

The heat was intense, for there was not a breath of wind. The gully was perfectly dry, and wherever there was a patch of greenery, it was fifty, a hundred, perhaps a thousand feet above their heads.

“How much farther is it to the village where we shall stop for the night?” said the old lawyer, pausing to mop his forehead.

“There is no village that we shall stop at, effendi,” said Yussuf quietly. “We go on a little more, and then we shall have reached the remains that Mr Preston wishes to see.”

“Bless my heart!” panted the old gentleman. “You are killing that boy.”

“I am quite well,” said Lawrence smiling, “only hot and thirsty. I want to see the ruins.”

“Oh, go on,” cried Mr Burne. “Don’t stop for me.”

Just then they were proceeding along a more open and sunny part when the professor’s horse in front suddenly shied, swerved round, and darted back, throwing his rider pretty heavily.

“Mind, sir! Take care!” shouted Yussuf.

“What’s the good of telling a man to take care when he is down?” cried Mr Burne angrily; and he tried to urge his horse forward, but it refused to stir, while Lawrence’s had behaved in precisely the same manner, and stood shivering and snorting.

“Your gun, sir, quickly!” exclaimed Yussuf.

“What is it? Robbers?” cried Mr Burne excitedly as he handed the guide his double-barrelled fowling-piece.

“No, sir; one of the evil beasts which haunt these valleys and slopes. Is the gun loaded, sir?”

“Loaded? No, man. Do you suppose I want to shoot somebody?”

“Quick, sir! The charges!” whispered Yussuf; and when, after much fumbling, Mr Burne had forced his hand into his cartridge-bag, Yussuf was closing the breech of the gun, having loaded it with a couple of cartridges handed by Lawrence, who had rapidly dismounted and drawn his sword.

It was evident that Mr Preston was stunned by the fall, for he lay motionless on one side of the ravine among the stones.

“No, no, stop!” cried Yussuf as Lawrence was making his way towards the professor.

The lad involuntarily obeyed, and waited breathless to see what would follow, as Yussuf advanced cautiously, gun in hand, his dark eyes rolling from side to side in search of the danger.

For some minutes he could see nothing. Then, all at once, they saw him raise the gun to his shoulder, take a quick aim and fire, when the horses started, and would have dashed off back, but for the fact that they were arrested by the way being blocked by the baggage animals and Mr Burne.

As the gun was fired its report was magnified a hundredfold, and went rolling along in a series of peals like thunder, while the faint blue smoke rose over where Yussuf stood leaning forward and gazing at some broken stones.

Then all at once he raised the gun again as if to fire, but lowered it with a smile, and walked forward to spurn something with his foot, and upon Lawrence reaching him it was to find him turning over a black-looking serpent of about six feet long, with a short thin tail, the body of the reptile being very thick in proportion to its length. Upon turning it over the Muslim pointed out that it had a peculiar reddish throat, and he declared it to be of a very poisonous kind.

“How do you know it to be poisonous?” said Mr Preston, who had, unseen by them, risen from where he had been thrown.

“Oh, Mr Preston, are you much hurt?” cried Lawrence.

“I must say I am hurt,” said the professor smiling. “A heavy man like me cannot fall from his horse and strike his head against the stones without suffering. But there, it is nothing serious. How do you know that is a poisonous snake, Yussuf?”

“I have been told of people being bitten by them, effendi, and some have died; but I should have said that it was dangerous as soon as I saw the horse shrink from it. Animals do not generally show such horror unless they know that there is danger.”

“I don’t think you are right about the horses,” said the professor quietly, “for they are terrible cowards in their way; but I think you are right about the snake. Serpents that are formed like this, with the thick, sluggish-looking shape, and that peculiar short tail, are mostly venomous. Well, this one will do no more mischief, Burne.”

“No. Nasty brute!” said the old lawyer, gazing down at the reptile after coaxing his horse forward. “What are you going to do, Yussuf?”

“Make sure that it will not bite any of the faithful,” said the guide slowly; and drawing his knife he thrust the reptile into a convenient position, and, after cutting off its head, tossed the still writhing body to the side of the ravine.

This incident at an end, they all mounted again and rode on, Yussuf in the middle, and Lawrence and Mr Preston, who declared himself better, on either hand, till, at the end of about an hour, the latter said quickly:

“Do you think you are right, Yussuf? These ravines are so much alike. Surely you must have made a mistake.”

“If I am right,” replied Yussuf, pointing forward, “there is a spring of clear water gushing out at the foot of that steep rock.”

“And there is none, I think,” said the professor, “or it would be running this way.”

“If it did not run another, effendi,” said Yussuf grimly. “Yes: I am right. There is the opening of the little valley down which the stream runs, and the ruined rock-dwellings are just beyond.”

If there had been any doubt as to their guide’s knowledge it would have been set aside by the horses, for Mr Burne suddenly uttered a warning shout, and, looking back, they saw the two baggage animals coming along at a sharp pace, which was immediately participated in by the rest of the horses, all trotting forward as fast as the nature of the ground would allow to get to a patch of green that showed at the foot of a great rock; and upon reaching it, there, as Yussuf had said, was a copious stream, which came spouting out from a crevice in the rock, clear, cool, and delicious, for the refreshment of all.

The horses and baggage were left here in charge of the driver, and, following Yussuf, the little party were soon after at the foot of a very rugged precipice, the guide pointing upwards, and exclaiming:

“Behold, effendi, it is as I said.”

For a few moments they all gazed upwards, seeing nothing but what appeared to be the rugged face of the cliff; but soon the eye began to make out a kind of order here and there, and that rugged ranges of stones had been built up on shelves of the rock, with windows and doors, but as far as could be made out these rock-dwellings had been roofless; and were more like fortifications than anything else, the professor said.

“Yes, effendi,” said Yussuf gravely, “strongholds, but dwelling-places as well. People had to live in spots where they would be safe in those days. Are you going to climb up?”

“Certainly,” was the reply.

“That is well, for up beyond there is a way to an old temple, and a number of caves where people must have been living.”

“But where is the road up?” said Lawrence.

“Along that rough ledge,” replied Yussuf. “I will go first. Would it not be better if the young effendi stayed below? The height is great, the road dangerous; and not only is it hot, but there are many serpents up among the ledges of the rock.”

“What do you say, Lawrence?” said the professor.

“He is going to stop down with me,” said Mr Burne shortly.

“No, sir; I am going up,” replied Lawrence. “I may never be able to see such wonders as these again.”

“But, my dear boy, if you climb up here, I must go too,” cried Mr Burne.

“Come along, then, sir,” cried Lawrence laughing; “the place looks so interesting I would not miss going up for the world.”

“Humph! I know I shall be broken before I’ve done,” muttered Mr Burne, taking out his handkerchief for a good blow; but glancing back in the direction where they had left the horses, he altered his mind, as if he dreaded the consequences, and replacing the silken square, he uttered a low sigh, and prepared to climb.