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AFLOAT 143
" I do know the swears," I answered humbly, and
I stood up amongst the men and delivered myself
of them.
" Quick! quick! the Pasha is angry!" said the men.
Our crew had assembled; there were our two
personal attendants, Hassan and Arten. Hassan
was now our interpreter, for, although he could only
talk Turkish, he could interpret our signs to other
Turks until we learnt the language. Arten, we found,
was more Armenian than cook, and sang us Christian
hymns in his native language when we felt low after
meals. Then there were two kalekjis in charge of
the raft; they were Kurds; we had yet to discover
their qualifications. Two Zaptiehs forming our escort
made up the number. We did not yet look upon
them as individuals, but as part of an abstract regime
in the country with which we now felt tolerably
familiar; the outward aspect of it was a ragged
uniform and an antiquated rifle, which served many
useful purposes but had forgotten how to eject bullets.
"Hazir dir, hazir" (Ready, ready), shouted the
kalekjis. The owner of the dancing-bear hurriedly
thrust his fez under our noses.
" Don't give him anything," I said, " a bear has
no business to be dancing in this country ; he ought
to be trying to eat us in a cave."
"The demoralisation of the bear comes from the
West," said X, who was studying the primitive habits
of the natives, " we must pay for it."
" Does this abuse of the hat emanate from the
same source?" I inquired, as she dropped a coin
into the fez.