It Was Quite Impossible To Proceed To Famagousta With The Vans, And
There Was No Object In Courting Their Destruction By A Desperate Advance
At All Hazards, As We Should Have In Any Case Been Obliged Eventually To
Renew The Difficulty When Retracing Our Route.
I therefore cantered in
upon my mule, with the guide who always lost his way, Hadji Christo.
This man
Was a great ruffian, and had laws existed for the prevention of
cruelty to animals, I would have prosecuted him; nominally he had the
charge of the mule and two ponies, but he illtreated these poor animals,
and the donkeys also, in a disgraceful manner. However, I had no other
guide, and although I knew him to be in partnership with some
Will-o'-the-wisp, I was obliged to follow him. It was an easy course for
saddle-animals, as the cathedral of Famagousta formed the prominent
point; therefore a steeple-chase might have been the direct
cross-country way. There was no change in the usual features of the
barren landscape. We kept upon the high ground on the right, looking
down upon the dreary flat for twenty miles to our left. Occasionally we
passed villages, all of which were mere copies of each other in filth
and squalor. The dogs barked and snapped ineffectually at our heels as
we cantered through; the civil and ever-courteous people turned out and
salaamed; and we quickly accomplished the twelve miles and approached
the walls of Famagousta.
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