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332 ACROSS ASIA MINOR ON FOOT<br />

feated hostile Arabs by the way, when I awoke to a<br />

tremendous crash. I was covered with dirt and sand<br />

and dust, and unaccountably with mud as well ; it<br />

seemed that the old l:ha)i must have fallen down.<br />

A match, however, showed the disaster to be somewhat<br />

less. Under the deluge of rain, like a thunderstorm<br />

long continued, rather more than half the<br />

ceiling had fallen, and with it not only plaster but<br />

old rotten wooden beams; and all my work of cleaning<br />

was to be performed again, for I was black and<br />

dirty as a sweep. But it could not be done now,<br />

and after moving the bed to a spot clear of hanging<br />

debris and dripping water, I turned in as I was and<br />

slept as soundly as before.<br />

Next morning I moved into another room, and was<br />

kept close there all day by heavy continuous rain.<br />

The khan-yd^vdi became a pond under this downpour,<br />

and streets, too, were flooded. It was said, also, that<br />

the river—the Cydnus of old name— had overflowed<br />

its banks. But all this day was made pleasant for me<br />

by the sound of strange singing, which in its accompanying<br />

circumstances remains my most vivid recollection<br />

of Tarsus. It came from a smithy in some<br />

ground- floor apartment of the khan, where various<br />

men had gathered to pass away the time while rainbound.<br />

How many there were, and of what race, I<br />

do not know, for I never saw them. Nor do I know<br />

what it was they sang. But they sang to the beating<br />

of hammers on anvil, and with such zest and abandon,<br />

and such a sense of old, wild adventurous life caught<br />

in the tune,—for it was always the same song,—and<br />

the clang of metal came in so happily and with such<br />

accurate timing, that I heard this music with neverfailing<br />

pleasure, and was always anxious for it to begin<br />

anew. First would be a bar or two of slow recitative,<br />

as it were, by a single voice, to the accompaniment of<br />

light blows on the anvil. Three or four other voices<br />

next joined in one by one, the time quickened, the<br />

hammer strokes became heavier. Then suddenly the<br />

song broke into a hurricane of sound. Many strong

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