To ride unattended into Ellyria, and thus to court
an introduction to the chief. However, our consultation ended in a
determination to wait where we then were, until the caravan should have
accomplished the last difficulty by crossing the ravine; when we would
all march into Ellyria in company. For a long time we sat gazing at the
valley before us in which our fate lay hidden, feeling thankful that we
had thus checkmated the brutal Turks. Not a sound was heard of our
approaching camels; the delay was most irksome.
There were many difficult places that we had passed through, and each
would be a source of serious delay to the animals. At length we heard
them in the distance. We could distinctly hear the men's voices; and we
rejoiced that they were approaching the last remaining obstacle; - that
one ravine passed through, and all before would be easy. I heard the
rattling of the stones as they drew nearer; and, looking towards the
ravine, I saw emerge from the dark foliage of the trees within fifty
yards of us the hated RED FLAG AND CRESCENT, LEADING THE TURKS' PARTY!
We were outmarched! One by one, with scowling looks, the insolent
scoundrels filed by us within a few feet, without making the customary
salaam; neither noticing us in any way, except by threatening to shoot
the Latooka, our guide, who had formerly accompanied them.
Their party consisted of a hundred and forty men armed with guns; while
about twice as many Latookas acted as porters, carrying beads,
ammunition, and the general effects of the party. It appeared that we
were hopelessly beaten.
However, I determined to advance, at all hazards, on the arrival of my
party; and should the Turks incite the Ellyria tribe to attack us, I
intended, in the event of a fight, to put the first shot through the
leader.
To be thus beaten, at the last moment, was unendurable. Boiling with
indignation as the insolent wretches filed past, treating me with the
contempt of a dog, I longed for the moment of action, no matter what
were the odds against us. At length their leader, Ibrahim, appeared in
the rear of the party. He was riding on a donkey, being the last of the
line, behind the flag that closed the march.
I never saw a more atrocious countenance than that exhibited in this
man. A mixed breed, between a Turk sire and Arab mother, he had the good
features and bad qualities of either race. The fine, sharp, high-arched
nose and large nostril; the pointed and projecting chin; rather high
cheek-bones and prominent brow, overhanging a pair of immense black eyes
full of expression of all evil. As he approached he took no notice of
us, but studiously looked straight before him with the most determined
insolence.
