RESCUED

We had several visits from the Arab officers, and they very kindly gave us a share of their food, which consisted chiefly of a vegetable stew. The following morning we were given a bread ration for five days and told to get ready at once. Tip was not fit to move, but they would not listen to us and dragged him out. We found a small pony had been brought, so Tip mounted this and we set off with a guard of a sergeant and eight privates; our former friend, the chaoush from Kusafet, was not coming with us after all and in his place we had a truculent quick-tempered fellow who looked as if he would be anything but an agreeable companion on the march. The men were evidently in the best of spirits, a visit to Kastamuni being a great event for them. In addition, they carried a good deal of tobacco, which they doubtless expected to sell again at a large profit on arrival. A great deal of tobacco is grown in the coast districts, more particularly near Samsun. We set off at a very easy pace and after passing the German wireless station soon had a halt. The guard had two donkeys which carried their kit, but the chaoush would not hear of us putting our packs on them as well. After another halt in a village, we reached a caravanserai early in the afternoon, where the guard prepared their food, the man who owned the donkeys acting as cook to the chaoush. This fellow had not even the disreputable uniform which the average Turkish soldier possesses, but was clothed in thin black stuff. His efforts produced boiled rice over which a little melted butter was poured. This was taken to a raised corner where he and the chaoush proceeded to shovel it into their mouths from the same bowl, etiquette prescribing that the two parties should take spoonfuls strictly in turn. An hour later we were off again, and began to ascend the lower slopes of the mountains we had crossed a few days previously. Now, however, we were on the so-called main road. It was one of the worst roads it had been our lot ever to have seen, and we were truly thankful we were not travelling in carts. Long stretches were strewn with blocks of stone, which had been, apparently, left there promiscuously by some contractor who had not finished his job, like so many others in this country. An hour or two later, after ascending some little distance, we stopped for the chaoush to get his pony shod. This animal he had commandeered at a village we had passed through, and now fancied himself to no small extent as a mounted man. After a long wait the shoeing was at last accomplished and we set off once more. To our delight the chaoush had also procured a second pony, and on this we were allowed to load our packs. About eight o'clock we reached a small village, where we were to spend the night; an empty log hut was found and a fire made in the large open hearth. We were given one side of the chief room while most of the guard slept on the rest of the floor. With some eggs we had bought we made a very good supper and, thanks to the fire, were as comfortable as the circumstances would allow. We were now high up and it would have been very cold to bivouac in the open, as we must have been surrounded by clouds during the night. Before going off to sleep we considered the chances of escape. There would be little chance after another day or two when we had got further from the sea and were halting in larger villages, so that the present night seemed the only practical time, should opportunity offer. However, we soon came to the conclusion that it was quite impossible, as not only was there a sentry in the narrow passage outside the door but one or two of the askars in our room were told to keep awake in turns. The only exit was the door, to reach which we should have to walk over several of our guard.

First thing in the morning, August 27th, we were off again up the road. It was a glorious day and nothing happened beyond the usual halts every hour or so. We discussed our escapade once more, again deciding we had had a good run for our money, but that we had not been cautious enough when we did reach the coast. We went over afresh the various routes possible and alterations in plans which we would have adopted with the experience now gained. It was about nine o'clock and we had been on the march fully two hours when suddenly with a cry of "Askar" shots rang out from the nearside of the road. For a moment we were too startled to know what to make of it. Then K. and I made a dive down the "khud" side, as the open road seemed anything but the best place to stay in. The first shot had bowled over the man in black who was riding a donkey in front. We had been told so much at Kastamuni about the bandits infesting the hills that we quite thought we might have fallen amongst a party of them and that to be taken and held to ransom would be a worse fate than returning for a few months to the civil prison at Kastamuni or Angora.

On going a little way down the hill I saw a man whom I at first thought to be the chaoush, but as he beckoned to me saying "Venez, venez," I saw that this was one of the new arrivals. He wanted me to go off down the hill with him, but after descending a little way I explained there were other officers on the road and I must go back to them. In the meantime, he was very voluble and excited, but I could not gather who they were or what had brought them. On arriving back on the road I found K. and Tip; the fighting was now over, and three of the brigands were collecting the askars' rifles and ammunition. The guard had put up no show at all and the nine of them were all disarmed and standing like sheep within two minutes, thanks almost entirely to the efforts of the three now collecting their arms, since my friend had been too far down the bank to have done much firing himself. The question now was whether we were to go with these fellows. K. was all for going off at once, but Tip and I hesitated as to the position we should be in, if caught again by the Turks before getting away. Our new friends would, of course, have been shot as outlaws, and we should very likely have shared the same fate. We took them aside and at length made out that they were adherents of the old Turk party and had no use whatever for Enver and his Government. They said they had come specially to rescue us, and had a boat ready to put off for either Trebizond of Sevastopol in three or four days' time. After realizing this, a process which took some time, as our knowledge of the language was very sketchy, we decided to throw in our fortunes with our new friends, as it seemed a heaven-sent chance of getting out of the country and almost too good to be true. We had seen nothing of Sweet since the firing started and now began to shout for him and search on each side of the road. Our new friends set the old guard on to look for him, but not a sign of him could we see and no response came to our calls. After searching and shouting for an hour, we finally had to give it up, and leaving the guard in the road set off with our new acquaintances, whom we will now style the "akhardash"—or comrades—as that was the name they always used for themselves and their supporters. As far as we could see, Sweet must have dashed away when the first shots rang out, thinking no doubt that this was a splendid opportunity of getting free again. It was very hard luck for him, especially as he had all along been one of the keenest and most energetic of the party. The old guard watched us go without emotion; they were apparently used to surprises of this sort. The chaoush remarked that we should now go to our homes, and we often wondered what happened to him when he got back to the barracks and reported.

He would be sure to say his party had been greatly outnumbered and were only disarmed after a prolonged resistance, but, nevertheless, he was probably reduced to a private. Besides the man in black who had been killed, two of the others had been wounded. Considering the rate at which the akhardash started firing, at a range of only twenty yards or so, the wonder is they did not hit many more; probably after inflicting a few casualties to start with they afterwards fired high on purpose. The guard, beyond firing one or two shots, seemed to have made no resistance at all. They were completely surprised and totally unready for such an occurrence. Tip had an unenviable experience. He was riding his pony when the shooting began and had our rucksacks festooned round his saddle and over his legs so that he could not dismount in a hurry and found himself in a helpless position in a small storm of bullets. Finally, he was dragged to the ground by the tallest of the akhardash, who proceeded to kiss him with much fervour! This man, whose name was Musa, became our great friend. He was a tall lithe fellow and was always ready to do everything he possibly could for our comfort during the following weeks. The leader, whom we always rather suspected of having played the part of the Duke of Plaza Toro in the actual scrap, was one Bihgar Bey, a most evil-looking gentleman. In fact none of the four at the time we first saw them presented an appearance likely to inspire any confidence, but resembled more the types one sees portrayed as those of the greatest criminals. Bihgar Bey, we learnt later, was one of a dozen implicated in the murder of Mahomed Shevket Pasha[3] some years previously, but as he alone when caught was not in possession of arms his sentence was only one of transportation, while all the others were put to death. The other two were Keor, an old Armenian who looked as if he had led a very hard life, and Kiarmil, a little man who had been a sergeant-major in the Turkish forces during the late Balkan war. Their looks, however, entirely belied them, as will be seen from our subsequent experiences, when on all occasions they went out of their way to lessen the hardships of our life in the woods. During the following days we found that they had been able to pay a certain sum yearly to avoid military service up to a few months previously, when all such privileges had been cancelled. They had then been forced either to serve or become outlaws, and had chosen the latter alternative. After living in the woods supported by more law-abiding friends, of whom they seemed to have a great number dotted about the country, they had decided to leave for Russia, and made arrangements with a man in Sinope to embark in his boat when all their party had been gathered and all arrangements completed. In the meantime, a gendarme at Sinope, who was also of their political views, had given them news of our recapture and march back to Kastamuni. They determined thereupon to effect our rescue, and the evening before had made a forced march of over twenty miles. At first, we could not understand why they had taken on such an enterprise, seeing that it could only hinder their own plans for getting away, and would probably make it much more difficult for them to leave at all, as the Turkish authorities would be sure to take a good deal of trouble to prevent our getting out of the country; but they seemed to have a profound contempt for any number of gendarmes and no doubt considered we should form a good introduction for them to Russia. Whatever their reasons, it was a very plucky act for four of them to take on a guard of nine, although at the time when the man in black was bowled over it seemed a horribly cold-blooded business.