Meeting III

Iv urrog lo u took a fancy to Chamly-bill, and erected a fortress there. All those who heard of his name, his liberality and valour, hastened to join his band. In a short time the fortress became a town containing 8000 families. It was there that Kurroglou became acquainted with the merchant Khoja Yak fib, whom he afterwards adopted as his brother. This man had travelled all over the world, and often amused Kurroglou with the description of what he had seen.

The merchant, Khoja Yakub, happening one day to go to the town of Orfah, saw a great crowd collected in the market-place. He entered there and beheld a youth, as the poet says:—

Improvisation.—“My heart is fond of a youth whose eyebrows are arched. His waist is slender, his lips like a bud, a smiling rose. Youth, sacrifice thy soul to beauty! Behold in me its victim. Go round the world you will not find a more promising lad. His name is Ayvaz Bally. The meadow of the eighth paradise! His father is by trade a butcher. The son, a mine of precious stones.”

Khoja Yakub inquired: “Of what garden is this rose? of what meadow this plant?” Some one answered: “His father is butcher to the pasha of this city, Ayvaz Bally by name.” The merchant then thought in himself: “Kurroglou has no children, why should he not adopt so fine a stripling as Ayvaz for his son? But what am I to do? If, upon my return to Chamly-bill I should attempt to describe to him what I have seen, he will not credit me.” He therefore found a painter in Orfah, and paid him a good price for taking Ayvaz’s picture.

After a journey of some days, he returned to the fortress of Chamly-bill; it was reported to Kurroglou that his brother, Khoja Yak fib, was come home. Kurroglou ordered his band to set forth, to meet and conduct him to the city with due honours. As soon as he dismounted from his horse, Kurroglou kissed his cheek and made him sit by his side, while Khoja Yakub kissed both his hands as those of his superior. “Hallo, my boys! some wine!” shouted Kurroglou; “let us drink in honour of a brother’s arrival.” And thus they sat and drank till Khoja Yakub began to grow tipsy and feel queer in his head. Kurroglou inquired from what place he came; he answered, “From Orfah.” “Perchance,” said he, “thou hast seen in Orfah a horse finer than my Kyrat?” “I have not.” “Say, hast thou seen there a youth braver and handsomer than my lads?” “I have not.” “Say, hast thou seen there a feast more joyous than mine?” “I have not.” “Say, hast thou there seen any cupbearers handsomer and more richly attired than mine?” Khoja Yakub replied, “Brother warrior! I have seen there a youth whose hands all your young men are unworthy to wash. Now thou art getting old and hast no children. Why shouldst thou not take him to be thy son, in order to make of him in due time a warrior worthy of serving thee, and of succeeding thee when thou art dead — as a support and son so long as thou livest?” Here he began to extol Ayvaz’s handsome and manly appearance. Kurroglou then said: “Thou good for nothing merchant, couldst thou not spend a few tumans to pay the painter, and bring me his likeness?” The merchant took a miniature from under his coat and reached it to Kurroglou. Kurroglou took it, and when he had examined it, the reins of his self-possession escaped from the hand of his patience. and he exclaimed: “Here, Daly Hassan! have a chain and fetters ready.” The merchant was surprised, and inquired the meaning of such an order. “I shall chain thee, scoundrel!” “For what reason, and what is my sin? Is this the reward thou givest me, because I have found a son for thee?” “For the lie thou hast told. Hear me, man, I shall ride to Orfah this very moment, and thou must await me chained in gaol. Should the youth justify thy praises in any degree,—then if I do not then gild thy head with a shower of gold, if I do not exalt it above the dome of the heavens, my name is not Kurroglou. But woe to thee if Ayvaz be unworthy of thy praises; I shall then tear the root of thy existence from the very soil of life; and thy punishment shall be an example to impudent liars like thee. Thou must not lie to thy superiors.”

This said, he gave orders that the merchant should be chained, both by the neck and one of his legs, and afterwards thrown into prison.

“Daly Hassan! let Kyrat be saddled!” Daly Hassan placed the felt and the saddle on the back of his lord’s horse, and fastened them sevenfold with the girth. “I shall ride to Orfah,” said he. “Let none of you dare to drink so as to be intoxicated until I come back. Woe to him from whose dwelling the voice of music or the tambourine shall be heard. Remember this command; or 1 shall pluck you from the earth and throw you to the winds like a noxious thistle. I go alone to fetch my future son, to fetch Ayvaz. I must either die or return here with him. Hark to my song:—

Improvisation.— 44 1 shall adopt for my son the youth Ayvaz Bally. Wait for the day of adoption till my return. Ask for him in Turkey and in Syria until my return. A brave man mounts the Arabian grey or bay, and gallops along on the road on the swiftfooted charger. Kill calves, kill sheep, and eat of my flocks till I return home, Kurroglou says, devil take the foe; the brave are galloping on Arabian horses; go and drink till my return.”

Having said this, Kurroglou took leave of his madcaps, jumped on his Kyrat, and alone pushed forward day and night from one menzill to another towards the city of Orfah. When he was but at one fersakh’s distance from it, he felt very hungry, and seeing a shepherd tending his flocks on the slope of a hill, said to himself: “The proverb is good: If thou art hungry go to the shepherd; if weary, to the camel-driver. Now, let me think how shall I contrive to get a breakfast.” He then went nearer and exclaimed: “God bless thee, shepherd! canst thou give me a breakfast?” The shepherd looked up, and beholding a warrior whose armour could purchase all his flock and himself into the bargain, answered and said: “Young man, I have no meals worthy of thee, but if thou art satisfied with sheep’s milk I will fetch thee some.” Kurroglou said, “In this desert a drop of sheep’s milk is worth all the world; get some and bring it to me.” The shepherd was square-built and stout; in his hand was a large club, whose knob was fitted with iron nails, old tags, rotten horse-shoes, and all such sharp things as he could get. Its weight was one men and a half a leather strap passed through a hole bored in its handle. The shepherd raised the club, which was suspended from his arm, and on this signal all the sheep crowded round him. He had also with him a wooden salver, which the Kurds call mondah, and which could hold nearly three mensf of milk. Having filled it with milk, he brought it and placed before Kurroglou. He then gave the latter a large wooden spoon that he might eat. Kurroglou had scarcely taken a few spoonfuls of milk, when he felt faint, and said, “Shepherd, have you not a slice of bread?” “I have,” said the shepherd, “but no son of man will eat it.” Kurroglou replied, “It has an eatable name, and if it be but a trifle softer than stone, give it me.” The shepherd said, “It is a bread made of barley and millet. I have baked it for my dogs.” Kurroglou said, “Never mind, fetch it as it is.” The shepherd rejoined, “The sun has dried it, it is grown quite hard and mouldy, thou shalt break thy teeth.” Kurroglou said, “Fear nothing, my lad, but give it here quick.” From the shepherd’s back was suspended a leathern bag; he took it off and laid it before Kurroglou. The latter was so exceedingly hungry, that he plunged both his hands into the bag, and snatching everything that fell in his way, crumbled it to pieces and threw it into the milk. The shepherd looked on, and seeing that his guest, having already prepared food sufficient for at least fifteen persons, was still hard at work, mincing everything that came under hand and throwing it into the milk, said to himself: “He surely is mad from hunger, for no son of Adam could ever swallow it all; when he shall have eaten five or six spoonfuls, he will throw it away; with what he has prepared here for himself I could feed, during a week, all the pack of hounds that guard my flock.” Meanwhile Kurroglou minced away and filled the basin; at last, sticking the spoon into it, which remained motionless and in a vertical position, he looked up, and eyeing the shepherd who was standing by in contemplation at him, he said: “Shepherd, sit down, let us feast together.” The shepherd replied, “Beg, thou hast thyself prepared the meal, eat it alone, for I cannot help thee.”

Kurroglou then took the spoon and applied himself to business; his monstrous, bristling mustachioes were in his way, pieces of bread stuck and hung from its hair, whilst milk was dripping all the time upon his bosom. Kurroglou being angry, threw the spoon away from him, and then twisting his mustachioes, which reached beyond his ears, he opened a mouth, similar to the entrance of some cavern, and thrusting his hands under the basin, placed it to his lips,— curt, curt, and he devoured all its contents to the very bottom. The shepherd gazed on and said to himself: “In God’s name, he cannot be a man, for no man could swallow so large a quantity; once more I repeat, let me see, in Allah’s name! If he now runs away, he is no other but the vampire of the desert 3 " 5, or Satan himself; if he remains he is the son of man. It is said that starvation personified has arrived; he must surely be that famine; he has now eaten all the milk of my ewes, but in an hour’s time, he will feel hungry again, and then I shall myself be devoured by him.” Kurroglou thought in his heart, “How am I to get to Orfah and see Ayvaz there? Were I to appear in this disguise and on this horse, my name and my glory are too well known in every country, and I shall be recognised. Let me rather take the shepherd’s clothes, which I shall put on, and thus enter the city.” At last he said to the shepherd, “Come to me and let us exchange our clothes.”

The shepherd smiled and said, “Thou good for nothing! why dost thou scoff at my poverty? the shawl alone which is on thy head, or the one which is round thy body, or the dagger sticking under it, would be enough to purchase my blood and my flock withal; why dost thou laugh at me?” This said, he spat on the palms of his hands, seized his club, and shaking it menacingly at Kurroglou, said: “Thou, confident in the width of thy shoulders, look also to the stillness of my neck.” Kurroglou smiled and said, “Shepherd, I swear before God that I am not laughing at thee; in that town there is a merchant that owes me 1500 tumans. Should I appear before him on this horse and in this garb, he will escape my hands. I am come to this town for a certain important reason. Quick, let us exchange our clothes; if I return to the city I shall give back to thee thy clothes and take my own again; if I do not return, you may lead this horse to the bazaar and sell it there. His price is 2000 tumans; enjoy it, and don’t forget me in your prayers; all my other things thou shalt keep also.” The shepherd said, is man surely must be mad; I cannot otherwise explain to myself all I hear; come. Beg, undress thyself.” Kurroglou untied his belt and took off all his clothes. The shepherd undressed himself likewise, and put on Kurroglou’s clothes, to whom he gave his cloak of coarse felt. Kurroglou threw it over his shoulders, and after having placed on his head the shepherd’s cap of felt, spoke to him: “Now give me thy own club,” for he saw that in case of need, it might serve him as efficiently as a sword.. Taking it in his hand he said, “Shepherd! thy soul and the soul of my horse.” The shepherd replied, “I swear by the faith of God; let thy heart be at ease, thou mayst trust me,” and in his heart he said; “God grant that this man should never return; then farewell poverty, the horse and clothes will suffice for me as long as I live.”

Kurroglou then took leave of the shepherd, and continued his journey on foot; the shepherd’s cloak was on his shoulders, the club in his hand. He looked on the town of Orfah, and went on until he came to its gates. After having pronounced the word “Bismillah” (In God’s name), he entered; and was passing through one of the streets, when, behold! he saw a Turk carrying in his hand an okka of meat, gazing at it fondly, and praying and sighing all the while. Kurroglou asked him, in Turkish, “What meat is this, that thou thus covetest and sighest over it?” The Turk replied, “Art thou a stranger, Sir, or dost thou come from some distant country?” Kurroglou answered, “Yes, I come from afar.” The Turk then said, “Art thou not aware that in any other country bread is dear, whilst in ours it is meat that is dear? I have a sick person at home, to whom the doctor has prescribed meat; I come every day to the bazaar, but I look in vain, nothing comes to my hands; to-day, at last, I have found some meat in the shop of Ayvaz, the son of Ibrahim, the butcher; for one okka I was obliged to pay two piastres; and this it is that makes me sigh.” Kurroglou inquired, “Is it possible then, that meat is so very dear?” The Turk answered, “Yes, so it is; two piastres for one okka, is enormously dear.” Kurroglou said in his heart, “Good tidings for my shepherd; await only a little, thou rascal, this very day I shall sell all thy sheep.” From thence, Kurroglou went towards Ayvaz’s shop, before which he perceived a crowd of men, huddled together like the folds of a rumpled cloak. The men came there to purchase meat, the women to gaze at Ayvaz’s beauty. Kurroglou, equally desirous of seeing him, looked over the shoulders of those that stood before him. The Turks, judging him from his garb, took him for a shepherd, and commenced tapping him freely on the head. Kurroglou then stooped down for the purpose of looking between their legs, but he was thus exposed to still greater sufferings. “I cannot manage these Turkish boors,” said he; “how then can I expect to carry away Ayvaz?” He elbowed right and left, then spat in the palm of his hands, and when the crowd began to make way for him, raised his club with the intention of clearing a passage for himself, and pushed on, dealing blows on blows. He whose head was struck, its brains were scattered about: he whose leg was struck, was crushed; whose shoulders he struck, that man fell down on the spot. In this manner he drove away all the people from before Ayvaz’s shop, until he beheld him sitting with his head leaning sadly upon his hand. Kurroglou said in his heart, “A true looty possesses six tricks, five of cunning, and one of strength. I shall not be able to frighten this lad.” He then approached Ayvaz, put his hand in his pocket, and taking from it one piastre, threw it before Ayvaz, saying, “Brother, weigh me one okka of meat, and let me have the change in copper; only be quick, my companions are gone, and I must run after to join them.” Ayvaz said in his heart, “Here is a customer for me; I sell one okka of meat for two shillings, he gives me but one, and asks besides for change in copper, and that too in great haste, because, forsooth, his friends are gone.”. Ayvaz was proud because of his beauty, and said, angrily, “Come here, come nearer, Master Simpleton, what hast thou to say to me?” Kurroglou now approached Ayvaz, whilst the latter, after having folded one of his fingers, struck him a smart blow in the face with the four remaining ones. Kurroglou said, “Youngster stripling, what didst thou strike me for?” but he was glad in his heart, and felt no anger for this proof of courage. Ayvaz replied, “Scoundrel, thou wilt spoil the price of my meat; in the presence of so many customers thou wouldst buy an okka of meat for one penny, and have some change in copper besides, whilst I am selling one okka for two shillings.” Kurroglou said, “Thou art a child; it is not to buy, but to sell meat, that I am come hither.” “What dost thou mean?” inquired Ayvaz. “Fool that thou art,” replied Kurroglou, “I have got nine hundred sheep, and came here to learn the real price of meat, whether it is cheap or dear.” It is well said, that reason abandons the head of a butcher as soon as he hears the bleating of a flock. No sooner had Ayvaz heard mention of nine hundred sheep, than he said, “My uncle, I was not aware thou wast a herdsman. I was rude in speech, thou art at liberty to pull out my tongue; I struck thee, let my hand be cut off, only pardon my guilt.” Kurroglou then made this improvisation:—

Improvisation.—“Thou shalt strike the armed foe, even should he be clad in a shroud from the Koran My future child, my eyes! I am not angry for tricks like these.” Ayvaz then said, “For God’s sake, dear Sir, let no one hear thou hast brought nine hundred sheep; our town has fifty butchers they will all beset thee, and thou wilt then be compelled to divide thy flock amongst them, so that no more than twenty sheep will fall to my lot. You had better wait here, sit down for a little while whilst I go and tell my father; we alone shall purchase the whole of thy flock—we alone shall give thee the money.,, Kurroglou replied, “Go, and I will wait here for thee.” “Stay, then,” said Ayvaz; “thou seest here twelve pieces of meat: if any customers should come, thou wilt sell one okka for two piastres, if they should not wait till I come back to settle it myself.” Kurroglou replied, “Go, and rely on me; I have been a butcher seventeen years, and know my trade; I shall sell it well for thee.” Ayvaz left the shop under the care of Kurroglou, and hastened to his father. Soon after, a Turk, who came for some meat, saw Kurroglou, and thought within himself, “How can I purchase meat from such a monster! I am indeed afraid to go near him.” Thus meditating, he paced to and fro. Kurroglou saw it, and said:—

“Thou art walking backwards and forwards, as if thy heart was aching; what dost thou want?” The Turk took a piastre from his pocket, and begged for half an okka of meat. Kurroglou told him to put down the money on the board, and come into the shop. Having then selected a haunch of the best meat, “Here, take it all!” he said. The Turk, thinking there was some trick in it, or that he was laughed at, said, “All I have to receive, is half an okka of mutton, and I will take no more.” Kurroglou raised his club over him, and exclaimed, “Art thou stupid or deaf! I tell thee, take it all.” The Turk said in his soul, “Let us profit if we can; I will try and take it; if he says nothing to me, he must clearly have lost his senses; it the contrary, I shall then throw down the meat and run away.” He entered the shop slowly and timidly, took and placed the meat on his shoulders, keeping all the while both his eyes fixed on Kurroglou; he afterwards left the shop, and began to fly, and whilst flying, looked often behind, but he was followed by nobody. Still he had some misgivings, and ran on as fast as the strength of his legs would allow. He was not far from his house when he met some friends, who inquired the reason of his haste. “O, may your house never fall in ruins! a madman sits in Ayvaz’s shop; for one piastre he gave me an entire haunch of mutton; what a spec! eleven pieces more are left there still; be quick, and he will most likely give them to you.” Whilst Kurroglou was selling thus the whole of Ayvaz’s meat for twelve piastres, the latter arrived at his father’s house, transported with joy, and said: “A shepherd came to our shop, who has nine hundred sheep: I have detained him, and we must buy his flock.” His father, Mir Ibrahim, the butcher, hastened quickly to his shop, and, finding Kurroglou there, threw his arms round his neck, and welcomed him with many embraces, calling him Beg, and friend, and brother, at the same time. Kurroglou thought in himself,—“I understand thee, rascal; thou wishest to cheat me.” Mir Ibrahim said, “Beg! your name has escaped my memory; all I know is, that you were in the habit of honouring me with your presence often when bringing sheep for us. It is long since we met together: my eyes were looking for you.” Kurroglou thought in his heart,—“Scoundrel! thou pur-chasest bread from the baker, and then sellest it to him again.” And then he said, “My name is Roushan.” He did not tell a lie, for such indeed was his name. The butcher upon this began to lament,—“How could you have forgotten us, and be so long without calling on your friend and brother?” Kurroglou replied,—“The sheep I used to bring here came all from Persia: now Kurroglou lives on the frontier, at Chamly-bill. The fear of that robber kept me away; but Kurroglou, thank God! being dead, I shall henceforth furnish thee with as many sheep as thou mayest desire.” Mir Ibrahim, the butcher, inquired, and said,—“Is it then true, that Kurroglou is dead?” “Dead and buried!

I have myself attended his funeral.” The butcher then said, “God be praised! for you must know, that our pasha, having heard of this robber, forbade my Ayvaz to leave the town, lest Kurroglou should steal him, and thus cover him with infamy. During the last seven years Ayvaz has never been out of the fortress.” Kurroglou said in his heart,—“Look at this dirty beast; he has buried me alive; but I shall sooner thrust him into the grave myself, so that all shall sneer at him till the end of the; world.” Ayvaz, seeing that there was no meat left in the shop, thought at first that it had been sold; but. when he looked into the purse, and found only twelve piastres in it, he said,—“Shepherd, may thy house fall down!” and then began to weep. Mir Ibrahim inquired the reason of his tears: he said then,—“Father, I have intrusted to Roushan twelve pieces of meat, and he sold them at one piastre the piece.” Kurroglou said,—“I have heard that the corporation of butchers was famous for its dirty avarice: I find now that correct. To each of the twelve friends I have in this town I have sent a piece of meat. At all events, you will not be the losers. Twelve pieces make six sheep: when thou comest to purchase my little flock, thou mayest take twelve of them gratis.” When Mir Ibrahim heard these words, he slapped Ayvaz’s face. “Hold thy tongue, fool,” said he, “and do not eat dirt. Thy uncle Roushan Beg knows what’s to be a gentleman; he will give us fourteen sheep.” Kurroglou saw that he had lost a couple of sheep more, and said in his heart: “Thy mouth is ready, thy throat is open, nothing is wanting except that the pear be thrown in it: but the pear?” Mir Ibrahim said, “Come, Roushan Beg; get up, let us go home; we shall get the money ready, and settle our accounts.” Ayvaz then shut up the shop, and they all three went to his house. Mir Ibrahim then asked Kurroglou to stay there with Ayvaz, whilst he himself went away for the money. When they found themselves alone, Ayvaz sat on a higher seat than Kurroglou. Ayvaz arose, took from a niche a bottle and glass, which he placed before him; and then, tucking up his sleeves to the elbows, he filled his tumbler glass with wine, and emptied it. Kurroglou had drunk no wine for some time: his heart was beating with violence: he fondly gazed on the happy drinker, and licked his lips. Ayvaz said, ‘‘Roushan, my uncle! why dost thou lick thy mouth?” Kurroglou replied, “May I become thy victim! Thou phoenix of paradise! what is that red stuff thou art drinking?” Ayvaz said, “Hast thou never seen it before, my uncle? They call it wine” Kurroglou rejoined, “My soul, my grandson, fill a bumper for me, and let me drink it.” Ayvaz then said, “This beverage, uncle, has this bad quality, that whoever drinks of it becomes mad." “How is this?” Ayvaz replied, “Give but one ounce of it to a buck, and he will immediately sharpen, his horns and fight the wolf: give it to a fish, and it will load a ship with goods, and set sail with it on its back to trade on the Caspian Sea. If thou shouldst drink it, thou wouldst go mad, and run to the bazaar, proclaiming aloud that thou hast brought nine hundred sheep. The butchers then will fall on thee, and take them from us by force.” Kurroglou said, “Ayvaz, may I become the victim of thy eyes! I used to drink much of it; we have got it in great plenty.” Ayvaz inquired, “How is it made in your country?” “In our country they fetch the grapes, and press them until the juice is forced from them: then a pot filled with that juice is placed on the fire: it boils and boils, until three parts of it are boiled out, and the fourth alone remains: then some bread cut in pieces is thrown into it, and we eat it afterwards with our fingers.” Ayvaz said, “Mayst thou be dead, uncle! thou hast understood me most wonderfully: the thing thou mentionest is called dushab “How now? what is it, then, thou art drinking, my child?” “It is wine.” “Well, well; I see it now; we have plenty of it in our country.” “How do you make it there, my uncle?” Wo take cream, which we put in the leathern bag; then we do jolt it, and jolt and jolt, until butter will appear on the surface. The butter then is put in the pilaw, and what remains under it is used for drink.” “Mayst thou be dead, uncle! this is Abdough" (butter-milk). If so, then, for God’s sake let me taste it.” “I am afraid, uncle, when thou drinkest of it thou wilt go mad.” Kurroglou continued to repeat his request, until at last Ayvaz was moved by pity, and gave him a glass of wine. “O God!” he exclaimed, “I shall now die happy, for Ayvaz has offered me drink with his own hands.” He emptied the glass, and, as he had moistened but one of his mustachios, he said, “Give me one cup more, for the other mustachio.” Thus he continued to drink, and soon emptied the bottle to the very bottom. Ayvaz then said angrily, “Do not forget that this is not butter-milk: thy head will soon feel drowsy.” Kurroglou said, “My little bird of paradise! thou thinkest of no one but thyself: look at me also. 1 his said, he got up, and perceiving that there were besides six bottles of brandy in the niche, he took them, one after the other, and drained each at one draught. Ayvaz then exclaimed, “This is not wine, but brandy, thou boor: why dost thou not drink one of them alone?” Kurroglou said, “Thou parrot of paradise! I shall mix them both in my belly.” Ayvaz was angry, and thought, “He is drunk: he will soon be down, and asleep: how, then, shall we purchase his sheep?” Kurroglou took a seat, and, looking at Ayvaz, who was rather worse for w ine, took up a guitar, and, beginning to play on it, said, Ayvaz, may I be thy victim! let me tune thy guitar a little.” “What dost thou then play, uncle?” Kurroglou said, “When I was a child, a mere little shepherd lad, my father made a small guitar for me from a piece of fir-wood, on which he stretched strings made from the hair of the horse’s tail. I learnt to rake on it a little.”

Ayvaz gave him the guitar: Kurroglou tuned it, and it resounded under his fingers like a nightingale. The enraptured lad listened with wonder. At last, regaining his self-possession, he asked, “Uncle, canst thou sing as well as thou playest?” “I will try and sing if you allow me. What is still better, we are both tipsy,—if I do not sing here, where should I sing, then?” This said, he sang the following improvisation:—

Improvisation.—“Fill full the goblets and let us drink, let us drink, son of the butcher! But thou must not repeat my words. The dew has alighted on the cheek of the rose. Thou hast emptied the goblet, thou art tipsy, nay, dead drunk, thou art drunk, dead drunk, thou son of the butcher to-day, but who art shortly to be my own.”

When Ayvaz heard these lines he inquired, “Uncle, hast thou ever seen Kurroglou?”

Kurroglou made this improvisation:—

Improvisation.—“The roses of the garden are in full bloom. The enamoured nightingales are singing. The valleys of Chamly-bill are darkened by numerous tents. There is my dwelling-place. O, son of the butcher.” Kurroglou here stopped and thought, “If I should close this song with the name of Kurroglou, the poor boy might die of fear; let me then still be a shepherd for some time.” He then sang the following improvisation:_

Improvisation. —“Am I to confess it, then? No, 1 am a shepherd. The life of created beings must have an end. When I shoot from the bow, my arrow pierces through the rock, O.’ son of the butcher.”

At these words Ayvaz’s father, Mir Ibrahim, the butcher, entered the room with the money destined for the purchase of the sheep, and said, “Get up, Roushan Beg, and let us go where the flock now is, to close the bargain about the sheep.” Kurroglou! seeing that Ayvaz did not stir, said, “Mir Ibrahim, will not this boy go with us?” “He must remain at home; the pasha forbade him to quit the town, as I have told thee already.” “Are you not ashamed to be afraid of Kurroglou’s corpse? You believe every gipsy fortuneteller, why should you not believe me? 1 repeat to thee, Kurroglou has been dead for more than a month. Now, be frank, it is not Kurroglou thou fearest, but thou art afraid lest I should force thee to be thankful and liberal, when I shall have presented Ayvaz with some thirty sheep gratis.”

When the butcher heard of the intended present of thirty sheep he lost his head. He gave his son a powerful slap in the face, and shouted, “Get up, thou fool, and make a bow to Roushan Beg. He is a liberal man, a great man, and his word is a word.” Ayvaz, who was equally overpowered with wine and with all he had heard and seen lately, felt a shivering creep through all his body, and he thought in his heart, “This man must either be Kurroglou himself or one of his band.” He took the guitar, and said, “Father, let me sing one song, and I will accompany you afterwards.

Improvisation. — “Father! do not confound my understanding. A man like him cannot be a shepherd. You have but one son. Mind it! Let him not go with you. A shepherd is not likely to look like him. I have compared his words with his actions. He is a whimsical madman. His friendship and his hatred last but one moment. He must either be Kurroglou himself or Daly Hassan. A shepherd is not likely, not likely to look like him!”

Kurroglou, hearing this, smiled and thought, “IIe is a long-sighted boy! That is the son I want.” Ayvaz went on singing:—

Improvisation.— Father! His merchants trade in all the four quarters of the world. Thousands of male and female servants live upon his money. He likes no reckoning, but liberally distributes gifts by five and fifteen. Believe me, a shepherd does not look like that,” Mir Ibrahim said, “What shall we do, my son. How can we give up the nine hundred sheep?” Ayvaz went on and sang:_

Improvisation.—“Send him away; let him go where no eye can see him. Let no guest, no neighbour of ours behold his coming. Let no man see him even in sleep! A man of his appearance cannot, hear me, cannot be a shepherd. Ayvaz’s name is affixed to this song. A cross-shaken stigma has already been burnt out on my breast j\

1 know, hear me, I know well what will fall on my head. Father, Ayvaz shall be thy son no more!’

Kurroglou, seeing that Ayvaz had found out who he was, leaned towards him slightly and whispered, tiful cages suspended from the back of a young ass. Each of them contains plenty of larks, quails, red-legged partridges, nightingales, and a swarm of other singing-birds. As soon as we arrive I will present thee with all the four cages. Thou shalt hang them in thy shop, where they will sing and warble to thee whilst thou shalt listen to their chirping, and feel delighted.” Ayvaz then wept and said, “I can’t help it, come, father, let us go.” “Yes, let us go, my boy. Our friend, Roushan-beg, will not allow thee to be stopped at the city gate. We shall likewise take a servant with us.”

Thus, after having taken the money to pay for the sheep, Ayvaz, Kurroglou, Mir Ibrahim the butcher, and a servant, proceeded on their journey. At one fersakh’s distance from Orfah they came to the above-mentioned mountain, on which the shepherd was tending the sheep. The butcher, when he perceived the flock at a distance, was rejoiced in his heart, and said, “Is this thy flock, Roushan-beg?” “It is.” “Let us, then, commence our bargain. We must first agree for the price, and examine afterwards which of the sheep are fat and healthy, and which are lean and maimed.” “Then let it be so. Do as thou pleasest.” “How many sheep hast thou got?” “I told you this morning I had nine hundred.” “How many of them are fat, and how many lean?” “I never keep lean cattle, male or female; all of them are healthy and fat. None of them are older than two years, and no ewe has as yet lambed.” Well, hast thou purchased thy sheep; or are they of home breed?” “A liar is worse than a dog, and I will tell thee the truth; one half of them I have purchased, and the other half of home-breed.” “What wilt thou sell one sheep for?” “I will sell them to thee wholesale.” “At what price?” “Cursed be he that lies. I will tell thee the plain truth. I have bought them myself at five piastres each, and thou shalt have them for six piastres each. I must have at least one piastre in the bargain; I do not wish to have a greater profit from thee!”

Whilst they were bargaining, Ayvaz’s ear followed every word they uttered. He whispered to his father, “I have treated him with wine; he is drunk, and knows not himself what he prattles. A sheep now cannot be purchased for less than five tumans each. Count the money without delay, father, and after he shall have once received it he will not be able to retract, even if he should regain his reason.”

Mir Ibrahim opened the bag with money, which he counted and poured into the flap of Kurroglou’s coat. The latter seeing that more than one-half has been already paid, and that the counting advanced rapidly, said in his heart, “How shall I get rid of this swindling knavish Turk?” He possessed such an extraordinary strength in his hand that he could squeeze a piece of money between his fingers so as to obliterate the cyphers coined on it. Having thus effaced a piastre, be threw it angrily before the butcher, and exclaimed, “This is false coin!” But the trick did not escape the sharp eye of Ayvaz, who said, “Roushan-beg! we are not rich; we have borrowed half of this money, why dost thou falsify it purposely?” Kurroglou replied, “Ayvaz, my child! I have neither hammer nor anvil with me; the rascally workmen of the mint forgot to coin the cyphers of the Sultan on the piastre, and I must lose by it.” Saying these words he stood up, threw the money on the ground, and said, in an angry voice, “There are a hundred butchers in Orfah; I shall sell a portion of the sheep to them, and a portion to you.” He then went away. The butcher’s prayers were of no avail; and Kurroglou was on the point of departing when Mir Ibrahim, in despair, said to his son, “Mayst thou die young, Ayvaz, go, run, my boy, after him, and ask him to come back and close the bargain; may be he will listen to thee.”

Ayvaz came up with Kurroglou in a moment, and, taking him by the hands, entreated him, saying, “I implore, I beseech thee, uncle, be not angry, but come back/’ Kurroglou, apparently softened, returned, and sate himself on his former seat. When the money had been counted, it appeared that thirty tumans were still wanting. The butcher said, “Roushan beg, let the shepherd bring the sheep here; we will drive them to town, where I will pay thee the rest of the money. Thou wilt sleep in my house, and return to-morrow.” Kurroglou replied, “I shall not go to Orfah, for I have heard that those who pass the night there with money are assassinated. Thou must pay me all on the spot.” “I am no robber, Roushan-beg, however, I shall do as thou biddest. Thou must remain here with Ayvaz; and thou, my boy, be merry, amuse our uncle with conversation whilst I run to town for the remainder of the purchase-money.” Thus the hair-brained butcher left his son in Kurroglou’s hands, and mounting his lean jade, rode away towards Orfah.

Kurroglou pretending that he was going to fetch the four cages he had promised Ayvaz, left the sions used by the Persians when they ask for a favour or flatter anybody. The ancient Greeks had an equally mild idea of death. latter with the servant, whilst he himself went to the shepherd, and put on his armour, as well as his seventeen distinct weapons. He then asked the shepherd, “Where is my horse?” “O may thy house fall in ruins! thy horse is as mad as thyself; I have bound him by his four legs in yonder ravine, and cannot tell whether he is alive or dead.” Kurroglou said, “Scoundrel, I shall defile thy father’s grave! Thou hast damaged my horse, thou dog’s son!” He then hastened, without delay, to the ravine, where he beheld his Kyrat bound in such a manner that he could not stir at all. He unloosed his horse’s fetters, saddled him, made fast the girth, and having kissed him on both eyes, he mounted him, and galloped towards Ayvaz. He first took up the bag with the piastres, which he placed behind the saddle, and fastened it with the leathern string’s. “W< |1 now, my Ayvaz, get up with me on this horse, and let us start.’ “\\ arrior, thou art laugh ing at me; my uncle Roushan will soon be here, and thou shalt be unsaddled by the single stroke of his club.” “Rub thy eyes, Ayvaz, and look, didst thou not recognise thy uncle?” Ayvaz examined him well; yes, it is him, it is Rousban-beg himself, only his dress is not the same. He then began to weep, and exclaimed: “O my mother, O my father! Where are you?” His tears and prayers availed him but little. Kurroglou dragged him on the saddle, placed him behind, and after having tied a shawl his own and Ayvaz’s body, he fastened the latter to his waist. He then gave a blow with the stirrup to his horse, whipped him, and carried away his booty. The butcher’s foolish servant thought all the while that this was only a joke. He ran after, and called out, “Truce with thy jokes, truce with thy jests.” At last, he grew angry, unsheathed his dagger, and raising it before Kurroglou, exclaimed, “You must either let him go, or else I will thrust the iron through thy body.” Kurroglou said, Look at this reptile, I must show some mercy to him.” He then flung his club at him, and the servant’s skull burst like a poppy’s head.

The shepherd, who saw this murder, became thoughtful, and stammering from fright, began to repeat the prayers of the dying. Kurroglou bade him approach, and stretch out his lappets. He then untied the purse with piastres, of which he poured a good number, and asked, “Shepherd, hast thou seen a camel?” The shepherd replied, “I have not even seen a sheep.” Kurroglou said, “Shepherd! thou must drive this instant thy flock into the town, meanwhile 1 shall carry Ayvaz away.”

Thus the shepherd went, with his sheep towards Orfah, whilst Kurroglou carried Ayvaz to Chamly-bill. The afflicted boy was crying piteously, “Woe to me! my aunt is left behind, my uncle’s wife is left behind; woe to them, woe to me!” His eyes became red and swollen like apples. Kurroglou made the following improvisation:—

Improvisation.—“I tell thee, Ayvaz, thou must not weep; do not torment my heart with grief, do not cry, do not lament, Ayvaz.”

The latter, in reply, made the following improvisation:—

Improvisation.—“Thou sayst I must not weep. How can I help my tears, O Kurroglou? Thou tellest me not to torment thee with my grief. How can I help being sad?”

Kurroglou then sang:—

Improvisation.— “I was returning from the field, from the desert, and enquired of the shepherds if they had not seen thee. I have made thee part from thy old father. Ayvaz, do not weep.”

Ayvaz then sang as follows:—

Improvisation.—“Thou hast filled the bags with the money. Thou hast plucked the head of my heart. Thou hast bent my father’s back with grief. How can I then help crying, Kurroglou?”

Kurroglou sang:—

Improvisation.—“Am I not Beg, am I not Khan; shall I not be a father, a kind parent to thee? Do not cry, do not weep, Ayvaz.”

Ayvaz then sang:—

Improvisation,.—“My flowers, I have left ye behind in the garden! I have left behind beauties, with a waist worthy of being embraced! I have left behind my name and my family! How can I then help my tears, 0 Kurroglou?”

Kurroglou then sang:—

Improvisation.—“Let us have no more tears, or thou shalt make me also weep like a fool or an old woman. Thou shalt become a warrior; thou shalt be Kurroglou’s glory and pride. Cry no more.”

Ayvaz said: “I have heard thou art a warrior; thou must then treat me as becomes a warrior. I cannot tell whether thou art a brave nobleman or a villain: how can I then help crying?” Kurroglou promised to make a son of him, to surround him with plenty, to train him to be a warrior. And thus they pursued their journey to Chamly-bill.

In the mean time Mir Ibrahim, the butcher, came home for money, and said to his wife, “I have met this day a shepherd, who is a great simpleton. I was short of some tumans to pay for the sheep, and have given him Ayvaz as a hostage. Go, and get the money quickly!” His wife hastened to some relations and friends, and, having obtained the requisite sum, she brought it to the butcher. The latter, having mounted in a hurry on his emaciated jade, rode quickly to the flock. But he had scarcely passed the gate when he beheld the shepherd enter-misr Ky ing the town with the very same flock. “Shepherd, thou art a rascal! a thief! By whose permission didst thou drive my sheep into the town? I have bought them-—I have paid for them.” The shepherd said, “I do not understand thee.” Mir Ibrahim inquired, 44 Why, art thou not the shepherd of Roushan-beg?” 44 Thou ravest, as if thou hadst a fever. I neither know who thou thyself art, nor can I tell who is thy misnamed Roushan-beg.” 44 Scoundrel! Have you not sold me these sheep a while ago? Have you not taken the money?” 44 Avaunt with thy lie! The sheep are the property of Reyhan the Arab, and I bring them to town to be milked. The sheep that are milked in a market-place sell at a better price.”

At those words the butcher felt a cold shivering come over his skin. He dismounted to feel the teats of the ewes, and perceived that they were all milch ewes. He said, “That swindler, Roushan-beg, told me, whilst he was selling his sheep, that they all have either never borne young, or that they were males. No doubt this was Kurroglou, who, after having deceived me, must have carried Ayvaz away with him. Have you not seen two lads on the mountain?” The shepherd said, 44 Yes, I have seen two lads playing and wrestling with each other on the hill.”

Mir Ibrahim, after having mounted his jade in great haste, galloped away. He found nobody on the hill except his servant’s corpse. His tongue clove to his palate—he began to strike his temples so violently that he fell off the horse. In his despair he flung himself on the ground, and throwing dust on his head, exclaimed, “Woe unto me! he has carried away my son.”

In this miserable condition, Mir Ibraham was found by Reyhan the Arab. The latter was a wealth nobleman, who was riding past to the mountains to hunt, accompanied by one hundred and sixty of his horsemen. When he came near and examined the scene, he recognised in the distracted man his own brother-in-law. “How now! is this you, Mir Ibrahim? Why these tears, and what means thy despair?” The poor father, who was deprived of speech in consequence of his grief, could only utter these words, “He has carried... he has carried him away!....” Reyhan the Arab inquired angrily,— “Son of a burnt father, what, by whom, or who is it that has been carried away?” Half an hour elapsed before Mir Ibrahim recovered his senses and said, “I have sold him to Kurroglou, he has carried him away, he is flown.” “Speak distinctly. If thou hast sold anything to him, he had a right to take his property.” It was not till after numerous questions and surmises that Reyhan the Arab was enabled to learn all, and he said in his heart, “Kurroglou, thou art a scoundrel; thou hast passed thy greasy hand over my head, and carried away game from my preserves.” Then he called on his horsemen, and said, “Children, I shall ride on— follow me!” They then galloped in pursuit of Kurroglou, guided by his horse’s foot-marks.

Reyhan the Arab was mounted on a mare. Kurroglou continued to ride on without being aware of anything, when he saw his Kyrat drop his ears like a donkey. This‘was a certain sign of the presence of a max - e at about a mile’s distance. Kurroglou said in his heart, “My Roman Kyrat must scent Reyhan the Arab’s mare. He has, no doubt, learned all, and is pursuing me now.” lie looked up to heaven, and saw a few wild geese pass over his head. Kurroglou thought, “I shall let fly an arrow at the leader of the flock; if the bird fall down, I shall be the winner, but if the arrow come back alone, Ayvaz shall not then be mine.” He took an arrow from the quiver, and after having placed it on the bow, shot it forth. In a short time the goose came down, and dropped before the very hoofs of the horse. Kurroglou felt very happy; he plucked a couple of the finest feathers from the goose, and, taking off Ayvaz’s cap, fastened them, in semblance of a plume, to his calotte. Ayvaz said: “Thou hast made holes with those feathers in my calotte. 1 have a beautiful niece who will make me a new one.” “O my son,” replied Kurroglou, “as long as thou dwellest in my house, thy clothes will be all of gold and silk.” On hearing this, Ayvaz KURROGLOl 1. wept bitterly. Kurroglou, to console him, improvised the following song:—

Improvisation. —“How beautiful thy head looks with this plume; it is like the male crane’s head. I shall keep it; I shall watch over it carefully. I sought thee in heaven, and I have found thee on earth; do not weep, my young crane. The arched line of thy eyebrows has been sketched by the pen of the Almighty. Thou art just come of age, thou art fifteen, O my youth. To all these ornaments one only is wanting, and it is that of chivalrous achievements. kb oil shalt be the model of a warrior. I shall cover thy head with a calotte of gold. O my young crane, weep no more.” After a pause, Kurroglou sang:—

Improvisation. —“I saw thee, and my heart found comfort. Thou shalt find in me a true-born Turkman Tuka. My name is Kurroglou, the ram. I am well known all over Turkey. Crane-headed Ayvaz, weep no more.”

Let us now return to Reyhan Arab. He was thoroughly acquainted with all the by-ways and paths in the neighbourhood of Orfah; he was aware also that Kurroglou came there for the first time, and, consequently, knew nothing about the localities of the country. There was a narrow pass across a precipice, which must be crossed by means somewhat resembling a bridge thrown over it. Before Kurroglou was able to pass that bridge, Reyhan Arab had reached it by a circuitous part, and placed himself at its very entrance. Kurroglou seeing that his road was intercepted, determined to climb the precipitous mountain which overhung the bridge, He spurred Kyrat with his stirrups, and gave him the whip; Kyrat climbed up like a wild goat, and was soon standing on the top. Kurroglou then looking down on all sides, saw nothing but the hoary perpendicular walls of the precipices, no passage was to be seen. Only at the foot of one of the sides of the mountain, there was a ravine twelve yards broad and one hundred yards in length. Kurroglou remained standing, and meditated what was to do.

Reyhan Arab then called out, saying, “Children, my souls! not one step further;—stay where you are. Not one of our men could ascend to the spot where Kurroglou is now; he must either die there or descend.” Eventually Kurroglou dwelt Improvisation. —“0 my steed, thy father was Bedou\ thy mother Koldan On! on! my worthy Kyrat, carry me to Chamly-bill! Leave me not here amongst unbelievers and foes, in the midst of the brown fog. On! on! my soul, Kyrat, carry me to Chamly-bill 1”

As soon as Reyhan the Arab heard Kurroglou’s voice, he began to laugh, and called from below, “Well, scoundrel! thou hast spoken at last; but whether thou singest or not, thou must come down and fall into our hands.” Kurroglou then improvised for Kyrat:—

Improvisation. —“Alas, my horse! let me not look upon thy shame. I will have thee wrapped in velvet trappings, both on thy left and thy right side. I will shoe thy fore and thy hind legs with pure gold. On! on! my Kyrat, carry me to Chamly-bill; Thy body is as round, as slender, and as smooth as a reed. Show what thou canst do, my horse; let the foe behold it, and be struck blind with envy. Art thou not of the race of Kohlan? Art thou not the great grandson of Duldul? O Kyrat, carry me to Chamly-bill, to my brave ones! I will have satin housings cut out and sewed purposely for thee. We will enjoy ourselves, and the red wine shall gush out in a stream. O my Kyrat, my chosen one of five hundred horses. On! on! carry me to Chamly-bill!”

Having ended this song, Kurroglou commenced to walk Kyrat about. Reyhan Arab, who saw it from below, and knowing that Kurroglou was preparing his horse to clear the ravine, said to his men:

“Will you believe that Kurroglou is daring enough to leap this ravine? His great courage pleases me well. I take you for witnesses, that, if he clears the ravine, I shall forbear from persecuting so brave a man. [ will pardon him, let him carry Ayvaz away. If he fails, I shall gather their scattered limbs, and bury them with due honours.’ Saying these words, he examined the mountain all the time through a telescope. Kurroglou continued to walk Kyrat until the foam appeared in his nostrils. At last he selected a spot where he had room enough for starting, and then, giving the horse the whip, pushed him forward. The brave Kyrat sprang forward, and stood on the very brink of the precipice; the whole of his four legs were gathered together like the leaves of a rosebud: he struggled awhile, then gave a spring, and leaped to the other side of the ravine—nay, he cleared two yards farther than were necessary.

Reyhan Arab exclaimed, “Bravo! blessed be the mother that had weaned and the father who brought up such a.youth/\ As for Kurroglou, even his cap did not move on his head, nor did he even look behind, as if anything extraordinary had happened. He then rode away quietly with Ayvaz.

Reyhan Arab said to his men: “My souls, my children! a wolf that is not scared from his first prey, is sure to grow bolder, and return more greedy than er. Kurroglou has this day carried away my brother-in-law’s son, to-morrow he will come to seize my own wife from my bed. We must show him that our toe is also strong enough to bend a bow. 9’

Upon this they all rode forward in pursuit. As soon as Reyhan Arab had caught sight of Kurroglou, he began to shout: “Thou Haram-zadah, wert thou to escape to Chamly-bill itself, I will, catch thee even there.” Kurroglou thought, “This brigand will not leave me in peace.” He then made Ayvaz get down from the horse, examined the saddle and the stirrups, made fast the girth, and turned round to meet Reyhan Arab, of whom he inquired, “What dost thou want with me, miscreant?” “Hear his pretty question!—what do I want? Thou hast passed thy greasy hand over my head!” Kurroglou asked: “Wilt thou fight with me like a man or like a woman?” “What dost thou mean by fighting like a man or like a woman?”

If thou bidst thy horsemen to fall on me, thou shalt then fight like a woman. If, on the other hand, thou givest them a signal to stand off, and be willing to accept battle singly with me, it will be a combat fought in a manly way.” “Agreed; let us then fight like men.”

Kurroglou, who perceived that the horsemen of Reyhan Arab waited quietly drawn up in a line, said in his heart: “Notwithstanding these promises, I cannot rely on the word of the Sunnites; let me then begin by removing from hence a portion at least of his horsemen. Listen to me, Reyhan Arab, I am in the habit of singing before the battle. Here is my song:—

Improvisation.—“Warrior Reyhan! thou art come with an army against me alone. Where is thy honour, where thy boasted valour? Why dost thou seek to destroy my soul? Warrior Reyhan, thou must be mad!”

The sound of his voice, as well as the song were so terrible, that the horsemen of Reyhan Arab were struck with fear. Kurroglou sang on:—

Improvisation.—“Show me a man that can bend my bow, find me a warrior, who, like a battering-ram, could butt at my shield with his head. I can grind steel between my teeth, and then in scorn spit it towards heaven. Oh, why do we not fight to-day?”

Reyhan Arab’s horsemen, horror-struck, whispered to each other, “By the glory of Osman’s race, not one of us will escape the edge of Kurroglou’s sword.” Several of them took to flight. Kurroglou said in his heart, “Is it so? Fire away then.” He then improvised:—

Improvisation.—“Give an order for thy army to be divided into troops. Ah! have they so much confidence in their numbers! I am alone, let five hundred or six hundred of ye stand forward! Reyhan is come, he must be mad indeed!”

This song put to flight the remnants of Reyhan Arab’s horsemen. The latter alone remained, and did not stir from the spot. Kurroglou improvised:—

Improvisation.—“A warrior does not hunt his brother warriors in the covert. He threatens with his sharp Egyptian sword raised aloft. Think of thyself, Reyhan, before it be too late. Art thou mad? Thou hast never yet tasted the strength of the ram—Kurroglou’s forehead, thou hast never seen before an arm so mighty. Thou art standing still, Reyhan, art thou mad?”

Reyhan Arab was a lord of great courage; his glory and his deeds were much spoken about in all Turkey. Kurroglou exclaimed, “Go home, Reyhan! look at the flight of thy horsemen.” His. answer was, “These are all crows, they cannot withstand an owl like thee.” This said, Reyhan pushed forward his Arabian mare on the head of the scoffer. Kur roglou, on his part, gave a stirrup to Kyrat. The onset was terrible. All the seventeen weapons, which he carried with him, were used in turn, and yet no advantage was gained on either side. Kurroglou saw that Reyhan Arab was a man of superior courage and skill. They both closed several times on horseback, breast to breast and back to back. They caught each other by the girdle. Reyhan was dragging Kurroglou in order to unsaddle him, and shouted, “I shall not let thee carry Ayvaz away.” Kurroglou was also dragging him from the saddle, and exclaimed, “I will carry Ayvaz away.” They both dropped from their horses at the same time, and commenced wrestling on foot. Neck was twisted with neck, arm with arm, leg with leg. You would have said, that two male camels were fighting together #. The sun was already going down. Kurroglou felt wearied with the powerful resistance of his adversary, and exclaimed in his heart: “O God! preserve me from this w r oe, 0 Ali!” This said, he raised Reyhan Arab high in the air, and then flung him on the ground. He seated himself on his chest, and draw-i |! S’ a knife, prepared to cut off his head. But he said in his heart: “If he should ask for mercy, I will kill him; if he should not, it would he a pity to kill so gallant a youth” He gazed on his face, but it was red, tranquil, and showed no change. He then detached the truss fastened behind his saddle, and manacled Reyhan’s legs and hands. The latter said: “At the moment when thou didst launch thy horse to clear the ravine, I made thee a present of Ayvaz. I was unfaithful to my word, and for so stubborn a sin, the brunt falls on my guilty head. No man except myself will dare to follow thee.” Kurroglou replied: “Indeed I pity thee, a I do not wish to kill thee. I have only manacled thy hands and thy legs. If an army should pursue me, they will not be bold enough to proceed, after they have found thee here thus bound.”

Kurroglou then fastened Reyhan with a rope upon his mare, and mounting on Kyrat, led the mare after him on a string. He placed Ayvaz behind, and thus they arrived before Chamly-bill. Kurroglou’s sentinels saw his approach from afar a d infoimed the banditti of their master’s arrival; seven hundred and seventy-seven horsemen rode out to meet him. Kurroglou directed a rich gown of honour ( Khdlat) to be fetched for Ayvaz. Ayvaz then put it on. Kurroglou ordered Khoja Yakub to be brought before him, who, during all the time of Kurroglou’s absence, had been chained and confined in a dark prison. He received him kindly, took off his fetters and sent him to a bath. As soon as Khoja Yakub returned, he had him clad in a superb dress and invited him to sit by his side, in the place of honour. The banditti inquired eagerly for the details of Ayvaz’s capture, and Kurroglou told them all about it from beginning to end, sparing no praises of Reyhan’s courage and strength. He told his tale in verse and in prose— faithful to his habit of speaking truth in one’s face, and saying to a coward, that he was a coward; to the brave, that he was a man. Here is one of Kurroglou’s improvisations made in honour of Reyhan.

Improvisation.—“Brethern Aghas! a man must be a man like Reyhan. He has drawn tears of admiration from my eyes. His shield is of silver, he spills copiously the blood of the foe. He has united my soul to his. He has engraven on my breast both respect and attachment. A righteous man ought to be like Reyhan. May any father have live sons like him. May we have warriors like him for our companions. He deserves to be Kurroglou’s brother. A righteous man must be a man like Reyhan 7’

Kurroglou directed a repast to be served. Ayvaz was made the chief cupbearer. The wine flowed, the meals came down like rain, and the whole band feasted together.