CHAPTER XXI
IN A RING FENCE
A Greek fishing vessel was beating up against a gentle easterly windinto the Gulf of Adramyti. Its course suggested that it had sailed fromthe island of Mitylene. In the distance, beyond the head of the gulf,Mount Ida glowed in the rays of the setting sun, and the shade wasdeepening on the wooded hills of the Asiatic shore.
It was a peaceful, beautiful scene. But if the eyes of any on board thevessel were turned westward, they fell upon an image of war. Far off onthe horizon a long low shape lay darkly silhouetted against the orangesky. With a glass, perhaps without, it might have been recognised as adestroyer.
The crew of the vessel were busy with their nets. Their catches werenot very great, yet they showed no disappointment, such as might havebeen expected in men whose living depended on their takes. Some ofthem, indeed, showed an almost boyish interest and curiosity in thecontents of the nets when they were hauled up. One might have thoughtthat they were out for a night's fishing for the first time in theirlives. And the remarks that fell from their lips were not those thatone would expect to hear in a Greek vessel, or from native-bornfishermen.
"That's a plumper," said one.
"My aunt! don't you know a dogfish when you see it?"
"Is that a dogfish? All I know about 'em is that they make yousqueamish. Fact! My cousin told me: a chap always running some craze orother. Once it was science: thought he'd like to be a B.Sc. Biology wasin it. He bought a microscope and a swagger set of dissectinginstruments: they have to cut up all sorts of strange beasts, you know.First came a frog."
"Ugh! Slimy!" muttered one of his companions.
"Well, he liked it: fact! Said it was a beautiful little creatureinside. Then came a mussel: he had no end of a job finding its nervoussystem or whatever it was. Then was the turn of the dogfish. I don'tknow whether this fish had been too long away from home, or whether it'snaturally offensive, like the skunk: but whatever it was, my cousin toldme that when he put in the scalpel--well, he ran out of the room anddecided to go in for philosophy instead."
The speakers, though clad in nondescript garments that might have beentaken, at a distance, for Greek, were obviously Englishmen. Four oftheir companions in the boat were of the same nationality, and anyonewho had ever spent a few days in a British naval port would havedeclared, with the first glance at their keen bronzed faces, that theywere British seamen in disguise. The remaining five men in the vesselwere as obviously genuine Greeks; but a trained ear would haverecognised their speech as the Greek of Cyprus rather than Mitylene.
The fishing, or shall we say the pretence of fishing, was kept up untilit was almost dark.
"Time to be off, old chap," said the man who had recoiled at the mentionof a frog.
"Yes, I suppose so," said the other without much enthusiasm. He tookoff his outer garments, and replaced them by the loose European costumewhich is affected by the modern Greek merchant--wide trousers, a jacketthat looks as though it were never meant to be buttoned, a shapelesssoft hat, and the inevitable touch of colour in a blue cummerbund.Finally he stuck upon his upper lip a long, soft, black moustache.
"By George, you look a regular Levantine--not to say levanter," criedhis companion. "In that get-up you could persuade any simple Turk thatchalk's cheese. The moustache is a master-stroke: wonderful how ittransforms a fellow. I'd like to know the reason why army chaps areencouraged to cultivate 'em, whereas they're strictly forbidden in theKing's navy."
He continued talking, apparently with the idea of keeping up his own andhis companion's spirits. Meanwhile the vessel, which had put about justbefore darkness fell, as if to run back to Mitylene, once more beat upthe gulf, edging gradually into Turkish waters. In about an hour it hadarrived, according to the calculation of the Greek skipper, within abouttwo miles of the coast. Under the starlit sky the hills loomed black inthe distance.
The vessel was thrown into the wind. Orders were given in a whisper. Asmall dinghy towing astern was drawn up alongside. One of the Greeksstepped into it, and tied some bundles of matting to its stern, lettingthem float on the water at the end of the rope. Then Frank and thenaval officer got in, two of the British sailors followed them, and theboat was rowed with well-muffled oars silently shoreward.
When it was within a few cables' length of the shore the rowers ceasedpulling, and all the occupants of the boat stretched their ears to catchany sounds that might indicate the presence of persons on the beach.They heard nothing but the slight ripple of the almost tideless AEgeanbreaking on the sand.
"Pull in," murmured the lieutenant-commander.
A few silent strokes brought the boat to the beach. Trees stretcheddown almost to the water's brink. All was dark and tranquil. A seamanstepped overboard upon the wet sand and stood with his back towards theboat. Frank rose.
"Good luck, old man," said the naval officer, gripping his hand hard.
Frank mounted the seaman's back, and was carried a few yards to the drysand. Meanwhile the other seaman had cut the matting loose, and placedit carelessly on the beach just above the waterline, as if it had beencast up there by the sea. Frank waved a farewell, plunged into theforest, and disappeared. After a short interval the boat was pulled outto sea, and its occupants boarded the fishing vessel, anchored wherethey had left it.
Frank found himself among trees growing thickly together, on ground thatsloped steeply from the beach. There was little undergrowth to impedehis progress. Consulting a luminous compass, he directed his coursealmost due northward, expecting in a short time to reach the road thatran parallel with the coast and at a short distance from it, fromAlexander Troas to Edremit. The slope soon gave place to more levelground, and the forest belt presently ended abruptly at the edge ofcultivated land. Frank crossed the fields, and in about forty minutesafter he left the beach he struck into the road.
It was a bright starlit night, without moon. The road was deserted. Inaccordance with the plan made after close consultation of the map withhis friend the lieutenant-commander, he turned to the right, and stolecautiously along the road, stopping at every few yards to listen.Everything was quiet, and there was neither light nor sound from the fewfarm buildings which he passed at intervals.
After walking about a mile he heard footsteps. At first he thought theywere merely echoes of his own, but he took the precaution to step asideinto the shadow of a clump of trees, and soon afterwards saw a figureapproaching along the road. Before being discovered himself he wished tolearn what kind of person he had to do with. The indistinct figurepresently resolved itself into the bent form of an old peasant, whom hethought he might safely question. Stepping out into the road, he wenton, and was not seen by the peasant, who was apparently very tired andwalked with head downbent, until he had almost reached him.
Giving him the usual salutation, Frank stopped.
"Where is the nearest khan?" he asked.
"About an hour's walk along the road," replied the man, lookingcuriously at him.
"Who is the khanji?"
"Hussan, the son of Ibrahim."
"Is it a good khan? I shall be glad to get there. I have had a longwalk. My horse fell lame: I could not get another: they are all takenfor the army."
"It is a good khan. Hussan is a good man. You will rest well."
More salutations were exchanged, and each went on his way.
In less than an hour Frank arrived at a building in which lights wereburning. He knocked at the door, and called for Hussan the son ofIbrahim. A voice from within asked who he was and what was hisbusiness.
"A merchant of Corinth, O khanji, compelled to go on foot by the loss ofhis horse. I am weary and desire to rest, and it has been told me alongthe road how excellent is this khan, and how princely the hospitality ofthe khanji."
"Great is Truth," said the khanji, opening the door. "Here, if you area respectable man and can pay, you shall find good food and a c
ouch toyourself, since I have but few guests to-night."
The innkeeper, a middle-aged man of Arab type, stood in the doorway toinspect his guest before admitting him.
"Whither are you bound, stranger?" he asked.
"For Edremit, khanji. I have business with the army: what it is Icannot say: you understand that?"
The khanji looked knowing.
"I am deaf and blind if need be," he said. "You will want a horse. Ithink I can find one for you--if you can pay."
"Surely I will pay well."
"Enter, then, O honoured guest. I will set before you what is left of aprime chicken, and after, cakes and honey, and whatsoever this khan willafford."
Frank went in. The single guest-chamber, a large apartment, was lit bya couple of saucer-lamps. Three men of the carrier type were eatingtheir supper. The host laid rugs on a sleeping board at one end of theroom for Frank, and called to his servant to bring the stranger a bowlof stew.
"What news of the war?" he asked.
"There is little fresh," replied Frank. "The Russians get no further,and the English are beating their heads against the rocks in Gallipoli.Your countrymen the Turks----"
"Not so: I am an Arab," interrupted the khanji. "My fathers ruled thiscountry before the Turks were heard of."
"True. Perhaps it will be ruled again by men of your race: who cantell? But the Turks are stronger since the Almans have come among them.There are many Almans in Stamboul. You have not seen any on this sideof the water?"
"I have not; but it is said that there are Almans along the coast. Whatthey do here I know not, for they are not fighting men. It is told thatthey are holy men, who keep themselves very strictly apart. The Almans,it is said, are becoming true sons of the faithful."
"I know something of them," said one of the guests. "I have taken goodsto them from Edremit--wheaten flour from Tafid the corn factor. Trulythe ways of the Franks are past understanding, and the chief of theseAlmans is the maddest of all. He is a hermit; yet big and fierce, andnot lean and weak like our own holy men. With him there are certainothers of less degree, who do what he bids them. His dwelling is on theshore of the gulf, and the ground around it is enclosed by a fence ofwire with many sharp spikes. In the fence there is but one gate, andnone is allowed to enter except those bringing stores. I myself, when Itake the flour, have to leave it at an inner fence far from the house,and there it is received by the holy man's servants. That he is a trueson of Islam is sure, for the Governor protects him, and posts soldiersat his gate to defend him from harm."
"Mashallah! These Almans are different from us," said another man."Our holy men eat pulse, and so little that their bodies are butshadows. But these strangers have large bodies, and surely in appetitethey are as elephants, for I have carried to them the flesh of oxen andsheep sufficient for fifty men that have no claim to holiness."
"And now, stranger, give me your name, your business, and the number ofyour years," said the khanji. "I ask pardon for what seemsimpertinence, but I am bidden to send every day to the Bey at Chatme alist of my guests. It is a grievous task and costs much time and theloss of my servants' labour, but the command of the Bey must be done."
Frank invented the necessary particulars, which the innkeeperlaboriously wrote down in Arabic characters.
"You will send that to Chatme to-morrow, khanji?" he asked.
"Truly: it is too late to-night."
"As I am going that way I will save your servant's time. Let me be yourmessenger."
The khanji looked surprised at this offer: but he was quite ready toaccept it and save himself trouble.
Frank was well satisfied with what he had learnt, and went to sleep withan easy mind.
Very early next morning he accompanied the khanji to his stables, wherehe found an old broken-kneed horse for which he haggled in the orientalmanner, ultimately paying for it a good deal more than it was worth. Ona shelf he saw a tool of the nature of a trowel, which he slipped intohis pocket when the khanji's back was turned. "It may come in handy," hethought, "and the old rascal is more than paid for it by what he hasrobbed me of over the horse."
Thanking his host for his hospitality, Frank mounted and pushed alongthe road as fast as his sorry nag could go. At this early hour he metno travellers, and saw nobody but the labourers trudging to their workin the fields. After riding about nine miles, as nearly as he couldguess, he turned off into a side track leading towards the coast. Thecountry all around was densely wooded, and from marks on the track hejudged that it was used for dragging timber. Now and then he heard thering of axes in the woods. At places the track drew near to the edge ofthe cliff overlooking the sea. Here he struck off inland, making hisway as best he could among the trees. Once he caught sight of a man faraway on the cliff, looking out to sea. It appeared that the coast waswatched.
At last, after what seemed to be hours of slow progress, diversified bystumbles and falls of his miserable steed, he came suddenly to thebarbed wire fence of which he had heard at the inn. He saw at a glancethat it was not designed to keep people out if they were determined toget in. Like the notice, "Trespassers will be prosecuted," in fieldsand woods at home, it was intended to scare intruders away. Frankdismounted, led his horse into a thicket out of sight from the fence,hitched the bridle to a tree and gave the animal some food. Then hereturned to the fence, took the bearings of the thicket, and prepared toget over. This he achieved by climbing on the successive strands of thewire as on the rungs of a ladder, steadying himself by means of one ofthe posts to which the wire was attached. One of the barbs tore a rentin his baggy trousers, but this was his only mishap. He was within theenclosure of the mysterious hermitage.
He looked about him. There were many trees, though they were not socrowded as in the woods he had just left. No house was in sight. Hehad gathered from the carrier's talk that the enclosure was of largeextent: exactly how large he did not know, and it was necessary to gowarily, to avoid coming too suddenly upon the house. He flitted fromtree to tree with the caution of a scout who knows that an enemy is infront of him.
Presently he came to a stream too wide to leap: he crossed it by wading,the water coming halfway up to his knees. The current was swift, and alittle to his left he heard a continuous rustle, like the sound of awaterfall. No doubt the stream fell over the cliff into the sea. Hewent on, and arrived at a rough track parallel with the stream.Carefully scanning the surroundings, he saw, down the track to hisright, a second wire fence, with a gate where it crossed the path. Heretraced his steps for some little distance, in order to approach thefence at a spot remote from the gate.
When he reached it, he found that it differed from the outer fence. Itwas constructed, not of barbed wire, but of plain iron wire about asthick as that used for telegraph lines. There would be no difficulty increeping through. It seemed strange that the inner defences of thishermit's settlement should be so much less formidable even than thepaltry obstruction he had recently crossed. He examined it closely, andnoticed what appeared to be an insulator on one of the posts. Perhapsthe fence was not so harmless as it looked. Wetting a finger, helightly touched the wire for an instant.
"Lucky I wasn't too impetuous," he thought. "That's a pretty strongcharge."
Faced by this unexpected obstacle, he withdrew among the trees toconsider what he should do. The trowel which he had brought, with theidea of cutting the wire if necessary, was useless against a wireelectrically charged. Possibly, however, search might discover a weakspot. There was no sign of the inhabitants of the settlement.Returning within sight of the fence, but keeping near to the trees sothat he might slip under cover in case of alarm, he prowled along, butwithout reward until he reached the stream he had waded. At this spotit was crossed by the wire, attached to a post on each bank. He saw atonce that by scooping away the soft earth at the foot of one of theposts he could make a hole large enough to enable him to wriggle underthe bottom strand of wire. The trowel was coming in handy af
ter all.
In a few minutes he was safe on the other side. Following the streamtowards the sea, he came presently to a clearing, and what he saw withinthe clearing assured him in a flash that his journey had not been invain.
Frank Forester: A Story of the Dardanelles Page 21
