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CHAPTER XIX.
The start with a pack-horse—Dull road and weather— Benighted—Tired
travellers—No room in Injesu Khan—No room in the village
Billeted troops—A barber's shop receives us—The wine of Injesu
The drummer of Injesu—Ottoman drums.
When I
had packed up this morning, and piled my
gear on the floor, I was staggered by the quantity,
and wondered how it all could be carried on the back
of any single horse. There was art in loading and
cording a pack-horse, I knew, and Ighsan professed
that art, but I could only faintly hope that his skill
would enable him to dispose this monstrous heap of
stuff in such fashion that it would travel without
giving trouble. As one who went with a packhorse
I flattered myself that I journeyed with Spartan
simplicity, yet here was all this luggage
Luxury had grown upon me, it appeared, but
on fresh consideration there seemed to be nothing
I could discard. There was the hahe, its two
pouches filled with tinned goods and cheeses, the
food of my country, by which I set such stor-j.
There was a large canvas kit-bag which, when
stuffed with bedding, folding-bed, rug, and sleepingbag,
was swollen to an imposing size. There were
two well-filled Hadstone basfs. And there was also
the cookmg-box, an article I have not mentioned
before, though a unit held in peculiar regard, as one
contributing much to my comfort and wellbeing. It
was a wooden box, a yard in length and a foot