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CONSCRIPTS ON THE ROAD 327<br />

by oleander, and bare stony hillocks and spaces beside<br />

the road were covered with green sprouting tufts<br />

like the blades of young daffodils. At this stage<br />

of its growth I could not name the plant, but in<br />

a few weeks* time was to see it in blossom by<br />

the square mile, and know it then for asphodel.<br />

Somewhere hereabouts, too, the Mediterranean first<br />

became visible. The road went up to a low rise,<br />

and I saw, thirty miles away, a dark-blue space of<br />

sea lit up by a sudden sunburst—for the day was<br />

still cloudy. And then the road, still winding down,<br />

went among occasional olive-trees and fig-trees, and<br />

walnuts and pomegranates, with here and there a<br />

hut and small patches of cultivation.<br />

We came at last to a place where one looks down<br />

on a narrow tongue of the Cilician plain, far below<br />

between hills, with the road winding along it to begin<br />

the ascent. For several miles this distant road was<br />

dotted with groups of figures in white, as if in procession.<br />

To us, coming from the mountains of the<br />

interior, this was a strange and inexplicable sight—<br />

glimpse of new things, a custom of the plain, perhaps<br />

of Armenians going in white to a shrine on one of<br />

their feast-days ; and I went forward confident of<br />

meeting novelty. But when the head of the procession<br />

came up to us we saw how great was our<br />

mistake. Here were no devotees, but a thousand<br />

conscripts of Tarsus and the plain marching to cross<br />

the Taurus for Ulu Kishla and the railway. At their<br />

head was an araha carrying an officer, a mounted<br />

gendarme rode beside him as orderly, and behind<br />

straggled irregular groups of fifties, twenties, tens,<br />

as the fancy took them. They were barefooted,<br />

barelegged, men in thin white cotton " shorts " and<br />

open shirts—the everyday peasant garments of the<br />

hot plain—lightly going to the ice and snow of the<br />

Cilician Pass. Where this great artless company<br />

would find shelter on the way, and how they would<br />

be fed till Bozanti was reached, I could not guess ;<br />

but how they would fare in snow and temperatures

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