Oriental Encounters | Page 8

small item of his master's property, not by his fault but through
that master's oversight. But my possessions were Rashîd's delight, his claim to honour.
He boasted of them to all comers. In particular did he revere my gun, my Service revolver,
and this whip--a tough thong of rhinoceros hide, rather nicely mounted with silver, which
had been presented to me by an aged Arab in return for some imagined favour. I had
found it useful against pariah dogs when these rushed out in packs to bite one's horse's
legs, but had never viewed it as a badge of honour till Rashîd came to me. To him it was
the best of our possessions, marking us as of rank above the common. He thrust it on me
even when I went out walking; and he it was who, when we started from our mountain
home at noon that day, had laid it reverently down upon the seat beside me before he
climbed upon the box beside the driver. And now the whip was lost through my
neglectfulness. Rashîd's dejection made me feel a worm.

'Allah! Allah!' he made moan, 'What can I do? The driver was a chance encounter. I do
not know his dwelling, which may God destroy!'
The host remarked in comfortable tones that flesh is grass, all treasure perishable, and
that it behoves a man to fix desire on higher things. Whereat Rashîd sprang up, as one
past patience, and departed, darting through the cattle in the yard with almost
supernatural agility. 'Let him eat his rage alone!' the host advised me, with a shrug.
Having ordered supper for the third hour of the night, I, too, went out to stretch my limbs,
which were stiff and bruised from four hours' jolting in a springless carriage, always on
the point of overturning. We should have done better to have come on horseback in the
usual way; but Rashîd, having chanced upon the carriage, a great rarity, had decided on
that way of going as more fashionable, forgetful of the fact that there was not a road.
The stars were out. In the few shops which still kept open lanterns hung, throwing streaks
of yellow light on the uneven causeway, a gleam into the eyes of wayfarers and prowling
dogs. Many of the people in the streets, too, carried lanterns whose swing made objects in
their circle seem to leap and fall. I came at length into an open place where there was
concourse--a kind of square which might be called the centre of the city.
The crowd there, as I noticed with surprise, was stationary, with all its faces turned in one
direction. I heard a man's voice weeping and declaiming wildly.
'What is it?' I inquired, among the outskirts.
'A great misfortune!' someone answered. 'A poor servant has lost a whip worth fifty
Turkish pounds, his master's property. It was stolen from him by a miscreant--a wicked
cabman. His lord will kill him if he fails to find it.'
Seized with interest, I shouldered my way forward. There was Rashîd against the wall of
a large mosque, beating himself against that wall with a most fearful outcry. A group of
high-fezzed soldiers, the policemen of the city, hung round him in compassion,
questioning. Happily, I wore a fez, and so was inconspicuous.
'Fifty Turkish pounds!' he yelled. 'A hundred would not buy its brother! My master, the
tremendous Count of all the English--their chief prince, by Allah!--loves it as his soul. He
will pluck out and devour my heart and liver. O High Protector! O Almighty Lord!'
'What like was this said cabman?' asked a sergeant of the watch.
Rashîd, with sobs and many pious interjections, described the cabman rather neatly as 'a
one-eyed man, full-bearded, of a form as if inflated in the lower half. His name, he told
me, was Habîb; but Allah knows!'
'The man is known!' exclaimed the sergeant, eagerly. 'His dwelling is close by. Come, O
thou poor, ill-used one. We will take the whip from him.'
At that Rashîd's grief ceased as if by magic. He took the sergeant's hand and fondled it, as

they went off together. I followed with the crowd as far as to the cabman's door, a filthy
entry in a narrow lane, where, wishing to avoid discovery, I broke away and walked back
quickly to the khan.
I had been there in my private alcove some few minutes, when Rashîd arrived with a
triumphant air, holding on high the famous whip. The sergeant came across the court with
him. A score of soldiers waited in the gateway as I could see by the light of the great
lantern hanging from the arch.
'Praise be to Allah, I have found it!' cried Rashîd.
'Praise be to Allah, we