The Libby herald., 1913-01-03

~ very far from Smyrna, the
IN Turkish government has sue
ceeded In capturing and put
ting to death notorious brigand by
the name of Tchakirdjali. The story
of this mans life is one OF those dra-
matte episodes which bring to mind
the legendary lore of the famous Rob-
in Hood. 1t runs about as follows:
Years ago. during the reign OF Alb
dull Hamid H., brigand who had
made the government much trouble
In the Smyrna district, was offered
complete amnesty If he would come
to the government office and surren-
der. He accepted the offer, and came
with his son, then mere lad, to sur
render himself. On entering the door
of the government building he was in
stantly shot without warning. The
boy turned and fed, vowing eternal
vengeance on the Turkish govern
ment. In due time the lad grew to
manhood and gathered around him a
band of lawless men like-minded with
himself. This band numbered at va
men. All of them, like Tchakirdjali.
were crack shots, and all were armed
with the newest modern repeating
rifles. For many years this man and
his band held sway in the mountains
and valleys of western Anatolia, not
far from Smyrna. The object Of their
bitter animosity was mainly the Turk
ish government itself, and in all con-
ficts with soldiers sent to capture
them they showed no mercy. 1t Is not
denied that during the past ten years
at least three hundred victims, most
of them soldiers, have fallen to Tcha-
kirdjali's rifle. To capture man Of
this type, who knew every ravine and
valley, every crag and crevice, in the
mountain district, was no small task.
and for many years the Turkish gov
ernment failed in accomplishing its
object
Profoundly Religious.
In spite Of his bloodthirsty atti-
tude toward the governmental powers,
Tchakirdjali had a most remarkable
side to his character. He was pro-
foundly religious, from the Moham-
medan standpoint, as were also his
followers, and they never omitted to
observe the regulation prayer hour,
wherever they might be. Nor was
this man devoid of sympathy with the
poor, much as he hated the predatory
rich. At one time, riding along the
Meander valley, he met peasant driv-
ing in front Of him with yoke Of
oxen.
where are you going, my friendr'
said Tchakirdjali.
my master" was the reply. II am
going to town to sell my oxen."
what makes you sell your oxen?
Are they not your means of plowing
your farm?"
THAT is true," replied the man;
"but, you see, my daughter Is to be
married, and l have no means to pro-
vide dowry. This is great shame,
and I shall sell the oxen to provide the
dowry"
"How much do you expect to get
for your oxen?" asked the bandit.
II expect to get about twenty-one
liras," $500.
1T Is too bad" said TchaHrdjali
thus to sacrifice your means OF liv'
ing. Here are twenty-one liras as q
dowry for your daughter; go home
my son, and keep your oxen; but re-
member this, when the wedding pro
cession Is formed it must pass by this
bridge where we now are"
God be praised" replied the fol
low; ut shall be as you say"
When in due time the wedding pro
cession was formed, 1t came to the
bridge In question, and there Wa
Tchakirdjali on horseback alone. See
ing the procession coming. he rode
up to the bride, who was on horse
back, and, taking a silver fligret
necklace, he fastened 1t around hel
neck, saying: God be with you ane
give you peace!"
At another time this same bandit
who feared neither man nor devil
rode into a town in the Meander val
lev where lived three Turks who no
toriously ground the faces Of th'
Door. It was high noon, and the thre'
men were in the mosque at prayers
Tchakirdjali went boldly into th'
mosque, and, tapping each Of the three
on the shoulder, said: II want to sc,