Chapter 33 | A Formidable Party | Yussuf the Guide

Fortunately for the travellers a glorious moonlight night followed the glowing evening, and they reached in safety a mountain village, where, awed by their appearance and display of arms, the rather surly people found them a resting-place.

For days and days after this their way was on and on, among the mountains, deeper and deeper in the grand wild country. Sometimes they encountered good and sometimes surly treatment, but the beauty of the scenery and the wonderful remains of ancient occupation recompensed the professor, while Mr Burne in his snappish manner seemed to be satisfied in seeing Lawrence’s interest in everything around him, his relish for the various objects increasing every hour.

For the change was unmistakable; he was making rapid progress back to health; and instead of the rough life and privations of hunger, thirst, and exposure having a bad effect, they seemed to rouse up in his nature a determination that rapidly resulted in vigour.

“What are you going to show us to-day, Yussuf?” asked the lad, one glorious autumn morning, when the little party were winding along one of the many mountain tracks, so like others they had passed that they might have been repeating their journey.

“Before long we shall reach the great ruins of which I have so often spoken,” replied Yussuf, smiling at the boy’s eager look.

“At last!” cried Lawrence. “I began to think that we were never going to get there. But is there nothing to see to-day?”

“Yes,” replied Yussuf. “We are approaching a village now. It lies yonder low down in this rift—where the cedars are half-way up on that shelf in the mountain side.”

“Yes; I see,” replied Lawrence; “but what a place! Why, they must be without sun half their time.”

“Oh, no, effendi,” said Yussuf; “certainly they are in shadow at times, but though the village seems to lie low, we are high up in the mountains, and when it is scorching in the plains, and the grass withers for want of water, and down near the sea people die of fever and sunstroke, up here it is cool and pleasant, and the flowers are blossoming, and the people gather in their fruit and tend their bees.”

“And in the winter, Yussuf?” said the professor, who had been listening to the conversation.

“Ah, yes, in the winter, effendi, it is cold. There is the snow, and the wolves and the bears come down from the mountains. It is a bad time then. But what will you?—is it always summer and sunshine everywhere? Ah! look, effendi Lawrence,” he cried, pointing across the narrow gorge, “you can see from here.”

“See what?” cried Lawrence. “I can only see some holes.”

“Yes; those are the caves where the people here keep their bees. The hives are in yonder.”

“What, in those caves?”

“Yes; the people are great keepers of bees, for they thrive well, and there is abundance of blossom for the making of honey.”

“But why do they put the hives in yonder?”

“In the caves? Because they are out of the sun, which would make the honey pour down and run out in the hot summer time, and in the winter the caverns are not so cold. It does not freeze hard there, and the hives are away out of the snow, which lies so heavy here in the mountains. It is very beautiful up here, and in the spring among the trees there is no such place anywhere in the country for nightingales; they till the whole valley with their song. Now, effendi, look before you.”

They had reached a turn in the valley, where once more a grand view of the mountain chain spread before them, far as eye could reach, purple mountains, and beyond them mountains that seemed to be of silver, where the snow-capped their summits.

But among them were several whose regular form took the professor’s attention directly, and he pointed them out.

“Old volcanoes,” he said quietly.

“Where?” cried Lawrence. “I want above all things to see a burning mountain.”

“You can see mountains that once burned,” said the professor; “but there are none here burning now.”

“How disappointing!” cried Lawrence. “I should like to see one burn.”

“Then we must go and see Vesuvius,” cried Mr Burne decisively. “He shall not be disappointed.”

“I think the young effendi may perhaps see one burning a little here,” said Yussuf quietly. “There are times when a curious light is seen floating up high among the mountains. The peasants call it a spirit light, but it must be the sulphurous glare rising from one of the old cones, above some of which I have seen smoke hanging at times.”

“Why, Yussuf, you are quite a professor yourself, with your cones, and sulphurous, and arguments,” cried Mr Burne.

“A man cannot be wandering all his life among nature’s wonders, effendi, and showing English, and French, and German men of wisdom the way, without learning something. But I will watch each night and see if I can make out the light over the mountains.”

“Do, Yussuf,” cried the professor eagerly.

Yussuf bowed.

“I will, excellency, but it is not often seen—only now and then.”

They began to descend the side of the defile, and before long came upon a fine grove of ancient planes, upon some of whose leafless limbs tall long-necked storks were standing, placidly gazing down at them unmoved; and it was not until the party were close by that they spread their wings, gave a kind of bound, and floated off, the protection accorded to them making them fearless in the extreme.

“Stop!” cried the professor suddenly, and the little party came to a stand by a rough craggy portion of the way where many stones lay bare.

“Well, what is it?” cried Mr Burne impatiently, “I’m sure those are natural or live stones, as you call them.”

“Yes,” said the professor; “it was not the stones which attracted me, but the spring.”

“Well, we have passed hundreds of better springs than that, and besides it is bad water; see, my horse will not touch it.”

“I thought I was right,” cried the professor dismounting. “Look here, Lawrence, that decides it; here is our first hot spring.”

“Hot?” cried Lawrence, leaping off and bending over the spring. “Why, so it is.”

“Yes, a pretty good heat. This is interesting.”

“It is a volcanic country, then,” said Lawrence eagerly. “Oh, Mr Preston, we must see a burning mountain.”

“It does not follow that there are burning mountains now,” said the professor smiling, “because we find hot springs.”

“Doesn’t it?” said Lawrence in a disappointed tone.

“Certainly not. You would be puzzled to find a volcano in England, and yet you have hot springs in Bath.”

“Effendi, be on your guard. I do not like the look of these people,” said Yussuf quickly, for a party of mounted men, all well-armed, was seen coming from the opposite direction; but they passed on scowling, and examining the little group by the hot spring suspiciously.

“A false alarm, Yussuf,” said the professor smiling.

“No, effendi,” he replied; “these are evil men. Let us get on and not stop at this village, but make our way to the next by another track which I know, so as to reach the old ruined city, and they may not follow. If they do, I think they will not suspect the way we have gone.”

There seemed to be reasons for Yussuf’s suspicions, the men having a peculiarly evil aspect. A perfectly honest man sometimes belies his looks, but when a dozen or so of individuals mounted upon shabby Turkish ponies, all well-armed, and wearing an eager sinister look upon their countenances, are seen together, if they are suspected of being a dishonest lot, there is every excuse for those who suspect them.

“’Pon my word, Preston,” said Mr Burne, “I think we had better get off as soon as possible.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied the professor; “the men cannot help their looks. We must not think everyone we see is a brigand.”

“You may think that those are, effendi,” said Yussuf in his quiet way. “Let us get on. You go to the front and follow the track beyond the village—you can make no mistake, and I will hang back and try and find out whether we are followed.”

“Do you think there is danger, then?” whispered the professor.

“I cannot say, effendi; it may be so. If you hear me fire, be on your guard, and if I do not return to you, hasten on to the next village, and stay till you have sent messengers to find an escort to take you back.”

“Yussuf! is it so serious as that?”

“I don’t know, effendi. I hope not, but we must be prepared.”