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—<br />

304<br />

CHAPTER XXVII.<br />

Snow-bound at Dubekji Khan—A quarrel with Ighsan—His brigand<br />

friends — Brigands of Asia Minor — On the road again — Road<br />

blocked by caravans—The Cilician Gates Pass— Castles—Forts<br />

Ibrahim Pasha—British guns—Castle of the Sclavonian Guard<br />

The Gate of the Pass— Descending to the Mediterranean.<br />

We arrived at Dubekji Khan only just in time,<br />

for heavy snow began at once, and travellers coming<br />

down from the pass were in search of shelter. They<br />

thought themselves hardly used when the khankeeper<br />

said the khan was already full. They pointed<br />

to vacant spaces on the divans and against the walls<br />

where they could sleep ; they argued, they pleaded,<br />

but all without effect. They were told they might<br />

warm themselves awhile at the fire, and then, if<br />

they chose, find shelter in the donkey-stable, but<br />

could sleep nowhere else at Dubekji Khan. Had<br />

my host been a Greek I should have known that<br />

my bill would be in proportion to all this exclusiveness.<br />

But he was a simple Turk, he guessed that<br />

I should pay well, and was contented with the<br />

prospect.<br />

At this khan host and guests found themselves<br />

on easy terms at once. On my divan I set up my<br />

bed and stoves and cooked and ate to my liking,<br />

and then with the lamp hung on a nail above my<br />

head I could lie in my sack and read. On the other<br />

divan Ighsan, our host and his<br />

—sat on the skins of wolves and deer.<br />

son—a lad of sixteen<br />

They smoked

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