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BAZAARLUK 405<br />

with pine-trees, through which I could see my road<br />

of the morrow cHmbinof. Behind the khan rose a<br />

conical artificial mound in size worthy to be called<br />

a hill. Of its origin no one had any idea, but pieces<br />

of loose stone in the soil indicated that ruins of some<br />

kind had been here upon a time. The lowing of<br />

many cattle, the leisurely tinkling of their bells as<br />

they scrambled on the mound, the spacious breadth<br />

of sunset sky shading from the orange of west into<br />

the purple of east, and the nomads' fires that dotted<br />

the plain as darkness fell, all told that my route had<br />

brought me into another region. After the wild<br />

Zeitun country of three days' earlier the contrast<br />

was vivid, and in it too seemed to be the promise<br />

of changes yet to follow.<br />

To make sure of reaching Aintab by daylight we<br />

started from Bazaarluk just as a splendid dawn was<br />

breaking over the pine-covered hills. The stars appeared<br />

to be still set in purple velvet, the air was<br />

sweet and warm, in the grey half-light animals before<br />

us on the road were ghostly in the dust of their own<br />

making, and even the bells they wore seemed muflled<br />

or not yet fully awake. Fifteen or twenty years ago<br />

these hills,<br />

to which the road now ascended, were a<br />

favourite haunt of Zeitun brigands. A large guardhouse<br />

at the highest point told of many zaptiehs<br />

having been stationed here once, and four or five<br />

were in occupation now, A sentry on the flat roof<br />

hailed as I passed, and required me to come in and<br />

show my papers. During earlier stages of the journey<br />

I had been taken for a German, now I was suspected<br />

of being an Italian, and that, in the present Turkish<br />

humour, might become an unpleasant matter. The<br />

sergeant in charge said the vilayet was under martial<br />

law, and that his orders were to arrest all Italians who<br />

came his way. But when convinced of my nationality<br />

he proffered coffee and cigarettes, and endeavoured to<br />

make up by courtesy for the loss of time he had caused.<br />

During the afternoon, just where the track from<br />

Baghche Pass came into our path, I fell in with one

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