The daily morning journal and courier., 1894-07-12
NIGHT SCENE INA KURDISH CANT
Described by the Century Magazine Bicycle
 Tourist,


 The disk of the sun had already touched the western horizon when we came to the black tents of the Kurdish encampment, which at this time of day presented rather busy scene. The women seemed to be doing all of the work, while their lords sat around on their launches. Some of the women were engaged in milking the sheep and goats in an enclosure. Others were busy making butter in a churn which was nothing more than a skin vessel three feet long, of the shape of Bra- gil nut suspended from a rude tripod; this they swung to and fro to the tune of a wierd Kurdish song. Behind One of the tents on a primitive weaving machine, some of them were making tent-roofiing and mating, others still were walking about with ball of wool in one hand and distaff in the other, spinning yarn. The flocks stood round about, bleating and lowing, or chewing their oud in quiet cqntentment. All. seemed very domestic and peaceful ex- cept the Kurdish dogs, which set upon us with loud, fierce growls and gnash- ing teeth.
 Not so was it with the Kurdish chief, who by this time had finished reading the mutessarif's message. and who now advanced from his tent with salaams of welcome. AS he stood before us in the glowing sunset, he was a rather tall but well proportioned man, with black eyes and dark mustache, contrasting well with his brown tan complexion. Upon his face was the stamp, of a rath- CT wild and retiring character, al- though treachery and deceit were by no means wanting. He wore a head gear that was something between hat and a turban, and over his baggy Turk ish trousers hung long Persian coat of bright-colored, large-flgured cloth, bound at the waist by belt of car tridges. Across the shoulders was slung a breech-loading Martini rifle, and from his neck dangled a heavy gold chain, which was probably the spoil of some predatory expedition. A quiet dignity sat on Ismail Deverish's stalwart form.
 It was with no little pleasure that we accepted his invitation to a cup of tea. After yvn1k nf v,i~ which we had ascended from 5000 to 1000 feet, we were in fit condition to appreciate a rest. That Kurdish tent, as far as we were concerned, was a veritable palace, although we were al- most blinded by the smoke from the green pine branches on the sfnolder- ing fire. We said that the chief invited us to cup of tea: SO ha did--but we provided the tea; and that, too, not ion- ly for our own party, but for a half dozen of the chiefs personal friends. There being only two glasses in the camp, we of course, had to wait until our Kurdish acQuaintances had quench- d their burning thirst. In thoughtful | mood we gazed around through the | evening twilight. Far away on the | western slope we could see some Kur- dish women plodding along under heavy burdens of pine branches lkei those that were now fumjgating ouri syes and nostrils, Across the Hills the| Kurdish shepherds were driving home; thetrs herds and focks to, the tinklfngi of bells. All this, to us, was deeply i'm pressive. Such peaceful scenes, we thought, could never be the haunt of warlike robbers, The hocks' at last