Chapter 26 | Yussuf Preaches Stick | Yussuf the Guide

There was no further alarm that night, for the marauders had dashed off in the full belief that they were attacked in front and rear, the four shots, multiplied by the tremendous echoes from the rocks, combining with the darkness to make them believe that their enemies were many, and they had not stopped till they were miles away. As to making a fresh attack that was the last thing in their thoughts.

The night, then, passed peacefully away, but the amount of rest obtained was very little indeed.

After lying watching some time, Lawrence had fallen asleep, and had been awakened before daybreak by the professor, so that Hamed might have some repose; but, instead of lying down, the driver went off to his horses, and when Lawrence looked along the valley at sunrise, it was to see that Yussuf had spread his praying carpet, and was standing motionless with his hands outspread toward the east.

A hasty meal was eaten, and then a fresh start made, with Yussuf in front, and the professor and Mr Burne, who looked like some sheik or grandee in his scarlet and yellow turban, a hundred yards behind, their guns glistening in the morning sun.

The force was not strong, for, with Yussuf as advance guard, the professor and Mr Burne as rear, Lawrence had to form himself into the main body, as well as the baggage guard. But as this was the whole of their available strength, the most was made of it, and they rode back along the ravine as fast as they could get the baggage-horses forward, momentarily expecting attack, and in the hope of seeing some travellers or people of the country, who would, for payment, give them help; but when in the afternoon they reached the spot where the old lawyer’s Panama hat, perched on the top of the cypress, still kept guard, they had not seen a soul.

Mr Burne was for recovering his hat, but yielded to good counsel, which was in favour of hastening on to the village some few miles below in the open country, before the enemy appeared.

“Just as you like,” he said. “I will not oppose you, for I do not feel at all in a fighting humour to-day.”

The result was that just after sundown they rode into the little village, where about thirty men stood staring at them in a sour and evil-looking manner, not one responding to the customary salute given by Yussuf.

The latter directed himself to one of the best-dressed men, standing by the door of his house, and asked where they could got barley for the horses.

The man scowled and said that there was none to be had.

Yussuf rode on to another, who gave the same answer.

He then applied to a third, and asked where a room or rooms and refreshment could be obtained, but the man turned off without a word.

Patiently, and with the calm gentlemanly manner of a genuine Turk, he applied in all directions, but without effect.

“Have you offered to pay for everything we have, and pay well, Yussuf?” said the professor, as he sat there weary and hungry, and beginning to shiver in the cold wind that swept down from the snow-capped mountains.

“Yes, excellency, but they will not believe me.”

“Show them the firman,” said the professor.

This was done, but the people could not read, and when they were told of its contents they shrugged their shoulders and laughed.

It was growing dark, the cold increasing, and the travellers wearied out with their journey.

“What is to be done, Yussuf?” said Mr Preston; “we cannot stop out here all night, and we are starving.”

“They are not of the faithful,” said Yussuf indignantly. “I have spoken to them as brothers, but they are dogs. Look at them, effendi. They are the friends and brethren of the thieves and cut-throats whom we met in the mountains.”

“Yes, we can see that, my good friend,” said Mr Burne drily; “but as we say in our country—‘soft words butter no parsnips.’”

“No, effendi, soft words are no good here,” replied Yussuf; and he took the thick oaken walking-stick which Mr Burne carried hanging from his saddle bow.

“What are you going to do, Yussuf?” said Mr Preston anxiously, as he glanced round at the gathering crowd of ill-looking villagers, who seemed to take great delight in the troubles of the strangers.

“Going to do, effendi,” said Yussuf in a deep voice full of suppressed anger; “going to teach these sons of Shaitan that the first duty of a faithful follower of the Prophet is hospitality to a brother who comes to him in distress.”

“But, Yussuf,” said Mr Preston anxiously.

“Trust me, effendi, and I will make them remember what it is to insult three English gentlemen travelling for their pleasure. Are we dogs that they should do this thing?”

Before Mr Preston could interfere, Yussuf gave Hamed the bridle of his horse to hold, and, making up to the man who seemed to be the head-man of the village, and who certainly had been the most insolent, he knocked off his turban, caught him by the beard, and thrashed him unmercifully with the thick stick.

Both Mr Preston and his companion laid their hands upon their revolvers, bitterly regretting Yussufs rashness, and fully expecting a savage attack from the little crowd of men, several of whom were armed.

But they need not have been uneasy; Yussuf knew the people with whom he had to deal, and he went on belabouring the man till he threw himself down and howled for mercy, while the crowd looked on as if interested by the spectacle more than annoyed; and when at last, with a final stroke across the shoulders, Yussuf threw the man off, the people only came a little closer and stared.

“Now,” said Yussuf haughtily, and he seemed to be some magnate from Istamboul, instead of an ordinary guide, “get up and show the English lords into a good room, help unpack the baggage, and make your people prepare food.”

The man rose hastily, screwing himself about and rubbing his shoulders, for he was evidently in great pain; but he seemed to get rid of a portion thereof directly by calling up three of his people, two of whom he kicked savagely for not moving more quickly, and missing the third because he did display activity enough to get out of his way.

Then obsequiously bowing to the professor and Mr Burne, he led the way into the best house in the village, his men holding the horses, and Yussuf stopping back to see that the baggage was taken in, and the horses carefully stabled in a snug warm place, where plenty of barley was soon forthcoming.

“Why, Yussuf’s stick is a regular magician’s wand,” said Mr Burne, as the master of the house showed them into his clean and comfortable best room, where he bustled about, bringing them rugs and cushions, while, from the noises to be heard elsewhere, it was evident that he was giving orders, which resulted in his sending in a lad with a tray of coffee, fairly hot and good, and wonderfully comforting to the cold and weary travellers.

“Now,” said Mr Burne, “what a chance for him to poison us and finish us off.”

“Have no fear of that. The man would not injure us in that way,” said the professor; “but I must confess to being rather uncomfortable, for I am sure we are in a nest of hornets.”

“Hark!” said Mr Burne, “I can hear a sizzling noise which means cooking, so pray don’t let’s have any prophecies of evil till the supper is over. Then, perhaps, I shall be able to bear them. What do you say, Lawrence?”

“Supper first,” said the latter laughing.

“Very well, then,” said Mr Preston smiling; “we will wait till after a good meal. Perhaps I shall feel more courageous then.”

“What is he doing?” said Lawrence quietly, as their host kept walking in and out, for apparently no other reason than to stare at Mr Burne’s scarlet and yellow head-dress.

“I see,” said Mr Preston quietly; “he evidently thinks Mr Burne here is some great grandee. That fez and its adornments will be a protection to us as you will see.”

“Bah!” ejaculated the old lawyer; “now you are prophesying to another tune, and one is as bad as the other. Give it up; you are no prophet. Oh, how hungry I am!”

“And I,” cried Lawrence.

“Well,” said the professor gravely, “to be perfectly truthful, so am I. Here, mine host,” he said in Arabic, “bring us some more coffee.”

The man bowed low, smiled, and left the room with the empty cups, and returned directly after with them full, and after another glance at the scarlet and yellow turban, he looked at the swords and pistols and became more obsequious than ever.