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acrossasiaminoro00chiluoft

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A CARAVANSERAI 361<br />

whose ruins are scattered over the plain and tell<br />

how populous this region was in ancient days ;<br />

and<br />

here a long, narrow Arab bridge of pointed arches<br />

crosses the river, and carries the main road between<br />

East and West, as one might say, for it is the road<br />

between the Cilician<br />

Gates and Aleppo, and therefore<br />

the caravan route to Baghdad. On the eastern bank<br />

is a ruined Sultan khan, a massive stone building<br />

which, if not erected by the Seljuks, was built not<br />

long after their period and in their style.<br />

We entered this old khan and stepped at once into<br />

scenes whose lights and half-lights and shadowy mysteries<br />

and oriental figures would have provided a<br />

painter with subjects for a year. Through a large<br />

opening broken in the western wall the level sunlight<br />

poured into a vaulted chamber that must have<br />

been a hundred and fifty feet in length. The space<br />

was filled with people, some of whom lived here<br />

permanently, while others were migrants, labourers<br />

with their families coming to the plain for the harvesting.<br />

It was a shelter free to all, subject only to<br />

the uncertain bar of racial feud. Its occupants this<br />

evening represented wellnigh all the races to be<br />

found in this region of many peoples—Armenians,<br />

Greeks, Turks, and Kurds—but there were also others<br />

belonging to obscure races whose blood even a native<br />

might fail to name. Many children lay about the<br />

floor. At the broken end of the building were<br />

weavers makincr the most of the lieht. In the dark<br />

recesses glowed fires where women were getting ready<br />

the evening meal, amidst blue smoke that at last<br />

went wreathing out through the light of the western<br />

end. When we stepped into hidden nooks, horses<br />

and donkeys stabled against the walls became dimly<br />

visible. And the sounds of this caravanserai were in<br />

keeping with its weird scenes. A hubbub of voices,<br />

the barking of dogs, now and then the braying of an<br />

ass, and the shouts of children echoed under the great<br />

vaulted roof But for smoke the smell of this mass<br />

of crowded humanity and tethered animals would<br />

have been memorable.

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