Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1905-05-23
Che Story Tellfr,
MULE DRIVER OF RILO-DAGH.
Story of the balkan Insurrection
= Againt the Turks,


Of thousands Of roses borne by the
warm winds from the gardens and dis
tilleries of Rilo- -Dagh, a valley almost
as famous for its roses as the wales Of
Kezanlik and Iran.
In other years at the same season
the steep, perfumed slopes Of the Tur-
kish Balkans were the scene of extra
ordinary animation. Along the num-
berless paths, winding In every direc-
tion. came donkeys laden with baskets
Of flowers and looking as IL adorned
for fete of roses. But today all the
countryside was quiet and deserted.
Ten thousand Turks occupied the
Bapenta, from Rilo-Dagh as far as the
Shipka passes on the Bulgarian from
tier; and this time it. Seemed as IL
they could not fall to capture the ia
nous bandit chief Boris Schokol. who,
with his Macedonian followers, had
been completely surrounded and cut
off In his mountain retreat.
It could be only question OF hours
at the most. And in order that not
one of the band should escape in dis
guise the Turkish soldiers had orders
to arrest all travellers, whoever they
might be and journeying for whatever
reason.
A man must. indeed, care little for
his life who would run the gamut Of
cross firing from the sentinels In am
oh 90 hn
Nevertheless there was one traveller
brave enough, for a mule driver had
just appeared on the path which leads
to the Gabrov farm, situated half way
up the mountain side.
He was peasant Of simple, peace
full appearance, dressed In rags and
with bare feet and rose stuck In the
crown Of his tattered hat.
Thirty steps before him trotted a
little silvery gray mule carrying two
baskets full to overfiowing Of fading
roses, and fastened to the saddle was
an enormous Towering rose bush,
whose soft leaves rustled caressingly.
| The driver whose white hair was In
| striking contrast with his youthful,
almost childish face, strode along with
an easy step, glancing about indiffer-
emily at the desolate countryside.
Once or twice at the sight Of the char
red ruins Of what had formerly been a
prosperous farm, a pile Of smoking
timbers from which arose the dread
full odor of burned flesh, thesold man
turned away his head and a dark
shadow crossed his blight face.
Still walking at discreet distance
from his donkey, the peasant had just
reached the, summit Of a steep hill
when a bullet whistled by his ear.
1.-The music has struck up for the
| dance" he murmured to himself,
quite undisturbed. '4The Turks are
going to have good time now!"
| But he trembled an instant and turn
ed slightly pale as the rosebush which
was fastened to the saddle stirred as
| II by a sudden wind. A shower of
petals fell to the ground while rose,
evenly severed from its stem, was
carried twenty feet.
"The clumsy fools!" growled the
driver, but his cheeks were white:
A score of stinging pellets hissed by
| him and the dust sprang up in little
squirts about his feet.
II like that better" he remarked
thoughtfully, again repeating his enig-
matte phrase. 1.-THE clumsy fools!
What an omelet 1t would make"
The Macedonian hastened to descend
the hill on the other side. A few
scattered shots passed above his head,
and the echoes caught and repeated
| the report.
The donkey halted, frightened. His
long ears wavered back and forth and
his delicate legs shook violently.
The driver ran to him, embracing
him and patting his sleek neck.
"Come, come Filiberta, my little
white lamb, be quiet; there Is nothing
| to make you afraid now. The worst
part is over. A little more, and we
will be among friends, the soldiers Of
Lieut. Achmed. They are honest peo-
ple."
In fact, after this the firing ceased,
but the traveller was none the less OBJ
| served and followed. From time to
time head with a red fez emerged
from its hiding place looked quickly
and disappeared
The Bashi- Bazouks knew the mule
driver with the rose decked hat for a
poor devil, a grower Of roses and
something Of poet, an Enthusiastically
Oriental character with no other love
but his flowers. which were the fin
est in Rilo-DagA. Several Of the Turk
lsh officers. whose commissions he
executed, had taken him under their
protection.
Presently a soldier hailed the inof-
fensive traveller: ..
"Hullo. there, Filiberta!"
The gardener, whose name was
doubtless the same as his donkey's
looked about him. .... .. .
Good day, Gulkana, good morning,
brayest of soldiers"
Where are you taking your roses"
+ ITO the camp at Shipka. They are
for the commandant there, the brave
and handsome Capt. Murad-Bey. who
will give me a fine Turkish gold piece
for my pains"
Haven't you anything for me in
your pack?"
Nothing. child Of the Prophet, red
headed soldier Of the crescent; but
perhaps it will be different story
when 1 return II the commandant be
merciful to his slave"
May Allah inspire him. then!"
The mule driver continued on his
way. A kilometer distant he made a
halt before the farm of Gadrovo, stop
ped by the sentinel at the gateway.
AS the two talked together the driver
felt in one of his baskets and produced
a small box, which he handed to the
guard.
For the brave Lieut. Achmed,' he
said
Just then the officer himself came
around the corner. wearing a long
curved sword which dragged on the
ground. He was man Of tall stature,
with heavy cruel face true type of