Meeting XI

This is the tale which the historian learned from that parrot with sugared-beak, commonly called eloquence.

One evening sitting at a banquet, where pillaw and wine were not spared, Demurchy-Oglou quarrelled with Ayvaz. Kurroglou was absent, as he supped that night in his harem with Princess Nighara. Ayvaz in a fit of passion struck Demurchy with his club and wounded his head. Kurroglou, when informed of that event, did not say a word, as, having recently forgiven the treachery of Ayvaz, he again trusted and loved him like his son. If even a man like Demurchy was killed in a strife, Kurroglou would neither punish nor scold his adopted son, in order not to lower him in the estimation of his band. Demurchy was very much hurt by this behaviour of the chief, and said to himself, “Not one word to reprimand him for having wounded me! And who is he? a butcher’s son! Thou hast given me up to him, Kurroglou. Thou shalt repent of it, thou shalt pay it with thy life” He armed himself, mounted on horseback, and rode away from Chamly-bill, meditating revenge.

When the report of it reached Kurroglou’s ears he flew into a passion, took his guitar, and sang to his men.

Improvisation.—“One of you, my servants, has run away to Arabistan. Pursue him, catch him, and bring the deserter before me. Bind his arms tightly,—yes, tightly manacle them. Drive the deserter on foot before the Arabian horses, and drag him here. Take my Arabian pony. Strip the runaway’s clothes from head to foot. Stick burning candles under the skin of his naked back. Go, and with a piercing eye, examine all the mountain passes till you find him out. Bring the deserter before me.”

And then he added, in prose, “You have heard my errands; go, and execute them without delay! Daly-Mehter, taking with him a few horsemen, rode away. Kurroglou, still inflamed with anger, sang on at the top of his voice:—

Improvisation.—“I like the Armenian cross. He will not die who kisses it. Seize his greyhounds, pointers, hawks, sword, shield, and horse, and bring them here.” He shouted to his servant, when he departed, “I will burn your father to ashes if you come back without the deserter.” Then he sang on.

Improvisation.—“The words of Kurroglou lose their authority. A man, as long as he is alone, will not grow in power without the aid of others. You are to cut to pieces the servant who disobeys his master’s orders. Bring him here!”

Daly-Mehter looked for, and inquired about him without success. After a useless search he returned home, and said, “Master, in a few days he will come back. Where can he be better off than in Chamly-bill?”

Now listen to what had happened to Demurchy. He fled to Kurdistan for refuge; and went to the court of Mustapha-beg. This chief knew him well, and ordered him to be introduced with marks of the greatest.’respect. Ho embraced him, kissed him, and placed him by his side. “Holloa there! bring the wine r’ Demurchy said, “I will drink thy wine if thou wilt promise to grant my request; otherwise, I shall taste neither thy bread nor wine. Bid thine attendants to retire.” Being left alone with Mustapha, he continued, “Collect as great an army as thou canst. We will fall unawares upon Chamly-bill, and kill Kurroglou. I give up all pretensions to the booty, reserving for myself Ayvaz alone” Mustapha-beg fell into deep thought, and could not guess the reason to which he might attribute the treachery of a servant so old and faithful. He said then, “Give me time for reflection; I’ll give my answer to-morrow.”

After a sumptuous supper they retired to rest. The next day, in the morning, Mustapha-beg came alone to Demurchy’s bed-room. “What was the meaning of the proposition you made yesterday to me?” inquired he, “Holding thee, in my opinion, as a gallant and noble-minded man, I came to thee for refuge. If thou wilt not help me, I will go to the door of others; I hope I shall find such as will lend me assistance.” Mustapha-beg brought the Koran. They both swore mutual assistance and sincere friendship.

Then, getting ready every thing necessary for a military expedition, they began their march, until, when they were four farsakhs distant from Chamly-bill, they pitched the tents of their camp upon a plain. Demurchy said, “I swore that I should bring the head of Kurroglou to the very apartments of the Princess Nighara, and that I should drink his blood. I am acquainted with all the windings and by-ways of the fort. It is night, and just the fitting time. Rise up, arm thyself, and we will both go.”

It was not far to Chamly-bill. Having tied up their horses at a place pointed out by Demurchy, they first went into a court which was overlooked by the banqueting-hall, and, peeping in through a window-chink, Mustapha-beg saw Kurroglou’s men eating and drinking in such order and splendour that Nushirvan himself would not be able to give a more gorgeous repast. He said then to himself, They shall not long enjoy it.” They remained in a hiding-place till, the supper being over, all the men retired to their homes, and Kurroglou went to Nighara’s harem. Lightly and cautiously they followed him closely to the lobby portico of the harem, and there hid themselves. The attendants of the princess having made his bed, he undressed himself, put on his night-cap, and got under the coverlet.

After having waited for a while, Mustapha-beg and Demurchy drew out their daggers, and were going to stab him, when Kurroglou rose up in bed, and called out, “Nighara!” She came in. “I cannot sleep,” said he, “I remember that when I was carrying away from Aleppo my wife, I mean my Parizadda, I was stopped on the road, taken prisoner hiassan I’aslia, and thrown into gaol in Shushter. I should have been rotting there till now but for the assistance of Mustapha-beg. Thanks to his valour and magnanimity, he ran to my aid, dispersed Hassan Pasha’s troops, and restored me to liberty. I composed then a song to his honour, and, I do not know why, but it comes to my recollection at the present moment. Bring my guitar; I’ll sing it to thee.”

Mustapha-beg, astonished at hearing these words, whispered to Demurchy, “This man must have conjured a demon, who warns him of all dangers; how could he know otherwise that I am listening here to him? But may be thou hast treacherously apprised him of the night on which we should be here. Hast thou not betrayed me?” Demurchy swore upon the Koran, then added, “It happened (quite by accident. He is always merry, and very fond of prattling what first comes to his mind.” “A man like him, praising me before his wife, deserves my friendship and not treachery. But let us hearken whether he will praise or blame me.”

‘daughter of the Pasha of Aleppo, and whence he proceeded to Egypt. None of the aushiks from whose recitations I have compiled this poem, knew it well by heart. I leave to other travellers the filling up of the hiatus. Kurroglou was there thrown into a dungeon, and would have died miserably but for the timely assistance of Mustapha-beg.

Kurroglou tuned his guitar, and sang.

Improvisation.—“Like a man, like a true warrior, he came and fought. Mustapha-beg is of noble blood. Under the blows of his sword the rocks cleave. Mustapha-beg is the son of a noble father.”

Mustapha-beg hearing those praises, said, “Hark, thou knave Demurchy! if thou darest to touch that man, I will strike thy head with my club so, that thy brains shall spread about like poppy-seed. He praises me without witnesses before his wife, and what a wife! a daughter of the Sultan of Turkey; and I, like a thief, to kill him sleeping! No, no, I will prevent even thee from committing that crime.” Kurroglou sang on.

Improvisation.—“He is master of forty thousand men always ready at his first signal. Clad in armour, in iron dresses with blood-shot eyes they eat his broth and his pillaw. Mustapha-beg is son of the Pakiar. Is there any father that can boast of five such sons? He is fit to be any hero’s companion. He deserves to be my brother. Mustapha-beg is the son of a nobleman. Shouting, he cuts his way through the enemy’s ranks; he darts an unerring arrow from his bow, and pushes Kurroglou into a river. Mustapha-beg is the son of a nobleman.”

As soon as he finished, Mustapha-beg said, “Demurchy, hang thy sword on thy neck; I will do the same: and as long as we live w T e will serve him faithfully.

Kurroglou laid down the guitar, and was going to draw the coverlet over his head, when Mustapha-beg came in and saluted him. Kurroglou, seeing him in the harem at night, was surprised, and exclaimed, “Nighara, give me my sword!” “Noble hero,” answered Mustapha, “leave thy sword alone, Thy life was hanging on a hair, which at every moment was going to break; but thy song has saved thy soul. The praises on my behalf thou hast sung before the Princess Nighara, rose thee up from the dead.”

Kurroglou, seeing that he came as a friend, started from his couch, came and kissed him on the face, while Mustapha-beg kissed his hands. “Is there anybody with thee?” “Yes; I brought thee f TV hen a servant who has offended his master, wishes to <>b tain his master s pardon, be must come before him with hia b< 1 uncovered, and a sword hanging on a string from hia neck. It signifies that he surrenders himself to his master’s discretion, and prefers to suffer death rather than remain any longer in disgrace. I have seen many such supplicants at the court of Teheran.

Demurchy, thou must forgive his fault for my sake.” “Demurchy has brought thee here by force. 1 soon found it out. Let a hundred such knaves fall victims for one hair of thy tuft.”

Demurchy hearing this, came in, and threw himself at his master’s feet. In the meantime, Daly- Mehter, perceiving two horses tied up, guessed immediately whom they belonged to. He then called his men together, surrounded the walls of the harem, and went himself within. Kurroglou and his two companions, hearing the noise and bustle? went out, and perceived Daly-Mehter, who, enraged at finding nobody, was cutting the wind with his sword. “What is the matter?” inquired Kurroglou. “Nothing, master, nothing.” “Do not be afraid; all is over. Mustapha-beg is my son, and has done me the pleasure of. calling on me at Chamly-bill, in my harem.”

So saying, he dressed himself, and led them to the banqueting hall. All his seven hundred and seventy-seven men followed him. “Now, Mustapha-beg, tell me the truth; thou hast not come alone. How many horsemen hast thou with thee?” u Nine thousand horse.” “Thou must then, for punishment, be my guest, with all thy army, for two months at least.”

The night passed merrily in drinking. Kurroglou intrusted Mustapha-beg s officers to the care of his own, and the rest to his private soldiers, enjoining that nobody should want eatables and good bedding, saying, “They will spend the days with you, but every evening come all together to me to the banquet.” For the accommodation of so many people, he ordered an immense tent to be pitched.

In this manner two months passed. The days in walking, conversation, hunting, wrestling; and the nights in drinking, dancing, and revelling. Each of Kurroglou s men, arm in arm with his friends, went every evening to the common entertainment, and after it was over, saw them back and put them to bed. This, however, never threw them off their guard, so as to make them forget to take with them their swords or daggers.

After fifty days of entertainment, there appeared a great deficit in Kurroglou’s kitchen and cellars.

But lend ear to the tale of II assail Pasha, vizier of the Turkish sultan. One day he called all the Turkish merchants together, and asked them, “Why don’t you bring me some Persian goods?” They answered, “Let the pasha live long! The caravan road from Persia to Turkey passes through Chamly-bill, of dreadful fame. It is impossible for any merchant to get through it. The highwayman, Kurroglou, plunders and kills those who attempt it.” The pasha exclaimed, “Anna seni siktim! What! should a robber be so audacious as to touch the goods belonging to me? Never fear! I will give you five hundred thousand tumans; go to Persia, and purchase different sorts of ware of that country. If Kurroglou gets them, he will rob but my pocket, and you will lose nothing. Whether I get them back or not, will be my business.” He ordered immediately his purse-bearer to bring and count to them the aforesaid sum. To this they joined an equal sum out of their own pockets, made the necessary preparations, and set out upon their journey. And going from menzill to menzill, they arrived at Chamly-bill meadow, and encamped there for the night.

The sentinels gave immediate notice of it to Kurroglou. He was very much pleased with the news, inasmuch as he had not a farthing in his purse. Without any delay he called his seven hundred and seventy-seven men to arms, and having armed himself, be mounted Kyrat, and led them against the chief of the caravan. fc My souls! ’ said he, “my children! our pockets are empty; were you to lay hold even of an old broom, do not scorn it: take it, otherwise we shall starve.”

Without using any stratagem, they at once fall upon the merchants, cut off the ears and noses of the leaders of the caravan, and let them go, barefooted, scarcely leaving them small-clothes to cover their nudity. They took possession of money, goods, and everything they found; and carried all to the fort of Chamly-bill.

The report of that event reached the ears of Hassan Pasha, and was soon confirmed by the merchants themselves, who arrived, stripped, and maimed. “0 pasha, may thy house fall upon thee! Trusting to thy assurance, to thy five hundred thousand tumans we added an equal sum of our own, and all has fallen into the hands of the banditti!” Hearing this, the pasha lost his senses, and got frantic with fury. He filled a cup with wine, and raising it up, exclaimed, “Whoever present here will accept this cup, and drink up the wine, must immediately go to Chamly-bill, and bring Kurroglou dead or alive before me. For such a deed he shall share my power and riches, and wed my own daughter Dunah Pasha.”

There was in the assembly a certain Buly- Pasha, chief of a tribe fifty thousand men strong. He had been for a long time in love with Dunah Pasha. He rose from his place and said, “Pasha! swear upon the Koran that if thou refuse me thy daughter, thou wilt be divorced from all thy wives, and never touch a woman as long as thou livest. As to me, I shall not want anything from thee, not even thy army. I will take twelve thousand horse of my own tribe, with whom I will engage the robbers and bring before thee their chief, Kurroglou, alive, or his corpse.” The pasha took the oath in the presence of muftis and witnesses.

Buly Pasha was as good as his word; he set off without loss of time, and soon encamped on the meadow of Daly-Baba.

“My lord!” the scouts reported, “there is a large camp lying on thy pastures.” In order to learn what sort of people they were, Kurroglou went there on foot by himself, in the disguise of an aushik. He visited many tents, playing and singing, and everybody who heard him gave him a few piastres. One of them said to him, “We cannot give thee any more; but go to the tent of Buly Pasha, and play and sing to him, and thou wilt see what a liberal fee he will give thee. He is rich, and it is at his own expense that he undertook this expedition against Kurroglou’s band.” The pasha, when informed of the musical talent of the new comer, ordered him to be brought before him.

Kurroglou entered the chief’s tent, and made a most courteous bow. “Where dost thou come from, aushik?” " May the pasha live long! I usually sing at the court of Kurroglou, and for every visit he gives me a large bag of silver coin; but this time—I do not know whether he has got poor, or may be, my music did not please him—he presented me only with a bag of copper money. Being offended, I left him; and perceiving thy camp on the road, l came here, in hopes that the pasha would present me with a horse, that I might pray for him, and travel on foot no longer.” “I am told, aushik, that robber Kurroglou improvises beautifully; if thou knowest any of his songs, 1 should be glad to hear it.” “May the pasha live long! I know many of them.” With Buly Pasha’s permission he sat down, tuned his guitar, and began to sing.

Improvisation.—“Thou hast invaded unawares, Buly Pasha; but I shall teach thee! Why didst thou come to take my soul? I shall teach thee!”

“Aushik, I never saw Kurroglou in my life. How could he know my name and my designs?” “May my lord live long! I repeat word by word what I heard from him last night with my own ears. If thou art pleased, I will sing on; if not, say the word, and I will cease/’ “No, no! continue; I will see what nonsense it is—sing on.” Kurroglou thought to himself, “I have incautiously got into a very bad scrape; the sooner I get off, the better. I must put him into a passion, and he will turn me out, perhaps.” He sang on.

Improvisation. —“I will show thee who I am. will turn thy mother’s eyes into a pond of tears! Take care! or, by God, I will kill thee! I shall teach thee, Buly Pasha, I shall!”

Aushik, that robber Kurroglou takes too great a liberty, and composes dirty lines. What have 1 done to that rogue, that he aims at my life?

“May the pasha live long! Thou hast ordered me to sing Kurroglou’s improvisations, and 1 obeyed thee. Now I desist, and will go.” “Sing on! thou didst not invent those blasphemies; thou art innocent.” Kurroglou sang on.

Improvisation.—“I tell thee that, like a crow, 1 will peck out thy eyes, and will fill their sockets with red blood! Like a butcher I’ll flay thee! Buly Pasha, I’ll teach thee! I will!

The incensed pasha sprang up from his place.

Amongst Kurroglou’s grooms there were once two brothers, Gamber and Mohammed. They served him for a long time. Once Kurroglou, visiting the stables, found a great deal of dust upon the horses’ coats, and flying into a passion, he gave so strong a box on Gamber s face, that lit, dit <1 on the spot. His brother Mohammed fled away, and entered the service of Buly Pasha. Now, passing by accident near his master’s tent, he heard Kurroglou’s voice. Softly and cautiously he approached it, peeped in through a chink, and recognised him at once. Just when Kurroglou was singing the two last lines, “Like a butcher I will flay thee! I shall teach thee, Buly, I shall!” all the Turks listened, with their necks stretched forward, like bustards before the hunter.

Mohammed walked gently into the tent, took the pasha’s slippers lying near the entrance, and put them down before his master. A similar action of a servant means, in Turkey, that he has something secret to impart to his master. The pasha understood it, and left the tent. “What is the matter?” he inquired. “May the pasha live long! VY hat didst thou collect thy army and pitch that camp for? Where and for what purpose art thou going?” “Why, to Chamly-bill, to apprehend Kurroglou.” “And dost thou know who is that sham aushik? It is the rascal himself—’tis Kurroglou!” “Thou art in delirium, son of a burnt father. Has Kurroglou eaten a lion’s heart, for daring to come alone and sit in my tent?" “May the pasha live long thy servant does not tell a lie; it is Kurroglou. 1 was his groom for many years. Thou dost not know him; he is expert in a thousand juggleries.” “Enough of that nonsense’ it is not he—’tis impossible!” “May the pasha live long! I do not mistake. To prove it, I will tell thee one of! Kurroglou’s characteristic habits. If anybody calls out unawares, ‘Thou art a prisoner!’ he jumps up, and puts one hand upon another. Try_if he does not do the same, thou canst kill me.” f 1 eigning as if nothing of importance was told him, the pasha entered the tent again, and sitting on his place, he ordered to sing on. Kurroglou improvised.

Improvisation.—“Son of the road, I stand on the road! I am the servant of the brave warriors! Verily, learn that I am Kurroglou! I shall teach thee, Buly Pasha, I will!”

The pasha shouted, “Thou art my prisoner!” Kurroglou started from his place and stood with one hand crossed upon the other. The pasha ordered him to be taken up. They rushed upon him from the right side, he struck with his left hand, and threw down the whole rank of soldiers. They rushed upon him from the left side, he gave a blow with his right hand, and laid all on the ground, like so many reapers’ sheaves. At last more troops were called in, and then he was overpowered and bound.

The pasha said, “I came here with a view to seize the person of that rascal. Strike the tents immediately, and let us return to Constantinople.” They rased the camp, and returned the same road they came. Kurroglou, with his head uncovered, barefooted, with a chain on his neck, was driven before the horses of the Osmanlis, and in that sad condition eight days elapsed. Every night he was chained to an iron post before the pasha’s tent. His only food was the picked bones which they threw to him from the pasha’s plate. Such inhuman treatment became loathsome to the prisoner; and he said to the pasha, “I will defile the name of thy Omar. Why dost thou torment me so? I shall never humiliate myself so far as to ask thee for anything. But better kill me at once.,, In a certain menzill, Kurroglou, according to the usual custom, was chained by the neck, at the entrance of the tent. The pasha, during his supper, threw the bones which he had picked, into the face of the prisoner. The bone wounded his head, and the blood gushed from it. Kurroglou said, “Order that my hands be untied for a while; I have bethought myself of a song which I will sing to thee, and then order that I be killed!” The pasha said, “Son of a a whore! thou hast forgotten how difficult it was to bind thy loose arms; and now thou wishest me to unbind thee. Thou eatest dirt. Tied up as thou art, howl if thou likest” Kurroglou then sang:_

Improvisation.—“Do not boast, Buly Pasha. Thou knowest that I am a royal tiger. Beware! I’ll muddle thy blood. Having forsaken my faith, I am a Giaour.”

“Tell me, thou bloody puppy!” said the pasha, “what canst thou do to me now, with thy hands tied, with the chain on thy neck, fastened to an iron post?” Kurroglou said to himself, “Coward! thou art bold, seeing me with my arms bound.” And he sang on.

Improvisation.—“O foe! Do not be elated at seeing me crouching in the dust. What has happened to me to-day, will happen to thee to-morrow.”

And he added in prose, “Pasha, God does not permit me to bathe in thy blood now. but the time will come when I shall do it.” And he sang on.

Improvisation.—“I come upon the field upright. I stroke my mustachios and curl them. I will grind the steel with my teeth, and then spit it to heaven. I praise only brave men. I beat the troops on their very breasts. Beware, Buly, I tell thee! 1 am hardened black iron.”

The pasha said, “Perhaps thou wert all that in thy younger years; but now thou art old, and thou canst not apply those words to thyself.” Kurroglou sang on.

Improvisation.—“Kurroglou says, I am hungry; I, to whom Sultans used to pay the haratch. I can get old a hundred times, but I shall always be Lord, Ameer I”

But in his heart, he thought, “Buly Pasha, says the truth. These words, ‘I a tiger, 1 a Giaour, I the iron! I will cut thy head ofiV—these words do not fit me any longer. It does not become me, manacled and with a chain on my neck, to boast. It is better to disown my being Kurroglou. I will deny it, and they will sooner believe my lie, than that I allowed myself to be bound like a sheep.” Then, having gathered all the six parts of his reason into one in his head, and having plotted a new plan, he said, “Pasha! where dost thou bring me? They never torment so cruelly a poor aushik. I have borne it and played my part for thy amusement, thinking it was a joke. But enough of it. Let me go after having rewarded me with a horse and pelisse of honour.” Buly Pasha said, “All those subterfuges will not avail thee.” What shall I do then, poor man! I am not Kurroglou. I will insult the wife of that robber Kurroglou and thine own. What do you want from me? Everybody then, who has long mustachios and beard, is Kurroglou! Thou wilt show me to-morrow before Hassan Pasha; dost thou think that 1 have no tongue? 111 tell him, ‘Pasha! I came to Buly Pasha’s tent in hopes to get something to feed my poor wife and children. He ordered me to sing Kurroglou’s songs, and, in the mean time, his men fell upon me and chained me, God knows what for. How can you take me for Kurroglou?’” Buly Pasha grew thoughtful, and said to himself, “That may be true. Perhaps 1 torture this poor devil unjustly. May be he is not Kurroglou. I never fought Kurroglou, and did not capture him in the field of battle. Is it possible for such a clever warrior to commit such a folly, as to disguise himself and come into my very tent, and so incautiously fall into my grasp? Where do I carry him, upon the word of one stable-boy? Nobody will believe me. On learning all the particulars, Hassan Pasha will burn my father with quick fire.”

The pasha began to be sorry for the manner he had acted, and ruminated upon this subject. “Who knows but that good-for-nothing groom might have had some inveterate feud with that aushik? At Constantinople I shall become a laughing-stock of all the women and children. What will Dunah Pasha think of my valour and intelligence?” “Call here the groom Mohammed.” He came, and was quite confused at seeing his master angry. This the pasha took for a new proof of the justice of his suppositions, and ordered his head to be cut off. The next moment the groom was no more. The pasha said, “Aushik! let the groom’s ruined house fall upon his corpse! I am innocent; forgive me!” By his orders Kurroglou was unbound, and said to himself, “Now I breathe more freely. Besides the groom, nobody knows me here.” He took his guitar, and denied himself so cunningly, that the pasha was more and more ashamed of his former conduct.

Improvisation.— “May the God of strength bestow long life upon the pasha, great Buly Pasha! 1 am not Kurroglou. O may it please the Sultan of Turkey to honour thee with a visit in his own person at thy house, Buly Pasha! No! 1 am not Kur roglou.”

The pasha said, “It is all that rascal Mohammed’s fault. Do not disgrace me in Constantinople by relating there what has happened.” “May the pasha live long! The fox Kurroglou would not leave his den for the purpose of thrusting his neck into thy halter. He has a hundred thousand such servants as I. He is the most cunning rogue in the world.” Then he sang again, looking on the mountains whose snow y summits were hidden in the skies.

Improvisation.—“The best fruits are produced only by the Erjistan gardens. The barren summits of the mountain Savalan, turn into snow every thing that falls upon them. Kurroglou has seven hundred and seventy such men as I am. I am not Kurroglou. I see before me the snowy mountains; O God! what is my soul musing of

Buly Pasha said, “What is then thy real name, aushik?” This time Kurroglou did not tell a story, when he answered, “Thou wilt find my name in the following stanza,” and he sang:—

Improvisation.—“That which envelopes the head of the lofty mountains is fog. That which flows from a base man’s eyes is gore. Dost thou wish to know my name? I am called Aushik Roushan. No, Buly Pasha, I am not Kurroglou.”

The pasha said, “Get up, my poor aushik, don’t think of the past, but go to my stables and take a horse which will please thee the best. I promised it to thee, and will keep my word."

Kurroglou went to the stables, and saw amongst other horses, a colt which appeared to him a very promising animal, were it to fall into the hands of a man who would know how to bring it up. He came back and said, “May the pasha live long! Give me that colt.” “Take it, and forget all the troubles I was the cause of. Mount it and depart with God.” Kurroglou thought to himself, “If I mount that colt I shall immediately break its backbone. The Turks seeing it will say again that I am Kurroglou, because no other man’s weight is able to bend so soon the colt’s back. It is better to lead it in my hand.” He said, “May the pasha live long! My arms and legs are so numbed from having been manacled so long, that I must walk first, and then I will ride.”

He took leave of the pasha, led his colt of and when he lost sight of the Turkish camp he left the colt in the field and went to Chamly-bill.

The pasha also retraced his steps, proceeding slowly from one menzill to another. Kurroglou reached Chamly-bill long before him. The joy of the banditti was beyond expression; they threw themselves at his feet, and asked what was the reason of such a protracted absence. He related all to them, and ordered them to prepare themselves for battle.

Buly Pasha was not long before he arrived and encamped upon the meadow. It was night. Kurroglou, without delay, prepared “the night of blood." They} rushed upon them. Those who were nimble enough to fly away, escaped; the remainder were put to the sword, or taken prisoners and thrown into a dungeon.

In the number of the last was Buly Pasha. He was kept three days in a dark dungeon, when he was called before Kurroglou, and introduced into the Divan khana f, where he was sitting on the foremost place, at the head of his chiefs and soldiers. Buly Pasha, having gazed at his face, recognised him to be the identical Aushik Roushan.

“How do you do, Buly Pasha?” “O warrior, I pray God’s blessing upon thee!” So saying, he began to cry bitterly. Thou haram-zadah! How many tortures hast thou called upon my head! Eight days was I running before thy horses with a chain upon my neck. Every night, while I was chained at thy door, thou usedst to throw at my face the bones which thou hadst picked with thy teeth. I did not cry, nor did I stoop to prayer. Till now, I have done nothing to thee, nor did I torment thee.” He then took his guitar, and sang.

Improvisation.—“Buly Pasha! Bring to thy memory all I underwent that day thou didst capture me. Call, and we shall see who will come to thy assistance. What has become of the day when thou caughtest me,—yes, me, a royal tiger? The stars of heaven obey the moon; poor men serve the Begs. I. the warrior of warriors, trod, barefooted, upon the stones, forded the rivers. What has become of the days of my captivity?”

Duly Pasha said, “O warrior! I do not wish to return home. Order to kill me.” “And why?” “I am in love with Dunah Pasha, daughter of the first vizier. Her father, unwilling at first, consented to my union with her upon the condition that 1 should bring thee to him dead or alive. I did not succeed in it. I lost my betrothed and my army. With what face could I now return to Stambul? Death is preferable to such a life.”

Kurroglou took compassion upon Buly Pasha’s fate, and, in order to cheer him, he sang.

Improvisation.—“I will ford, I will sound deep seas to their bottom. I will split more than one head with my dagger. Do not be afraid, Buly Pasha. 1 will restore thee to thy liberty. Where are now the days of my captivity?”

“No, warrior Kurroglou, rather order to kill me.” “Why?” “Because I cannot live without Dunah Pasha.” Kurroglou sang on.

/ inprovimlion.—“Mark well my words. 1 will remain here. Many pashas will I pull down from their thrones. Never fear! I will get Dunuh P; h t for thee. Where are now the days of my captivity?

Then, he added, “Cheer up, Buly Pasha, I will give thee Dunah Pasha. I will go with my army to Constantinople; and if Hassan Pasha do not consent to give thee his daughter of his own accord, I will tear her from him by force. If I do not keep my word, I do not deserve to wear my cap on my head.”