Turkey Part 6

Their sheik, or chief, takes his seat on a carpet, while his followers sit in front of him and repeat pa.s.sages from the Koran. They then stand and repeat their formula of faith, "_La illah_," etc., bending forward and backward at each syllable. This recital, which is at first slow, becomes more and more rapid, until you can only distinguish the syllables _il_ and _lah_. The sheik then stamps his foot, and the Dervishes, growing frantic, quicken their swinging motion, shouting _lah_, and interposing every now and then the exclamation _Hu yia hu_, implying "He, O He" (is G.o.d). The ninety-nine names or attributes of G.o.d are then recited, while the sheik counts the ninety-nine beads of his chaplet.

When the last bead is reached their fury knows no bounds, and, holding each other's hands in a circle, they swing forwards and backwards until they foam at the mouth, and, falling exhausted to the ground, lie in an apparent trance. This they claim to be spiritual ecstasy!

Another sect, the Mevlevis, find this ecstasy in whirling until they sink exhausted. The third Order the Bektas.h.i.+s, who are the most tolerant, maintain that the contemplation of G.o.d can be best attained by their carrying out their motto, "Keep thy tongue, thy hand, and thy heart," and by the observance of His precepts.

CHAPTER XI

GAMES

The Turk is too indolent by nature to care for any sports requiring physical exertion, and he would rather be a spectator than take an active part in them. There is, besides, a feeling among those that have reached the age of manhood, especially if they are holding some Government office, that their dignity would be lowered if they were seen engaged at play.

A very interesting and pretty sport is the _djirat_. Two companies of hors.e.m.e.n, armed with m.u.f.fled lances, or in some places the stalks of palm-leaves, give each other chase. The pursuers hurl their missiles when at full speed, and those a.s.sailed endeavour to avoid the stroke or to capture the weapon.

Watching ram-fights is a favourite recreation, and crowds gather round the village green to witness these huge creatures, with their long crumpled horns, das.h.i.+ng at each other at full speed. Their heads strike with a resounding thud, and you expect that a skull or two will be broken, but no, it is only fun, and the rams caper gracefully back, to return again to the charge.

c.o.c.k-fights are likewise in repute, and in Cyprus a spur is grafted on to the crest of the bird, giving it the appearance of a sort of winged unicorn.

Professional wrestling is much enjoyed. The two contending parties or _pehlivans_, as they are called, are frequently a negro and a white man; their attire is nothing but a leather pair of drawers. Their bodies are smeared over and made slippery with abundance of olive-oil. The struggle commences by their measuring distances and touching each other's shoulders; then they manoeuvre about and dodge each other, and finally come to grips, until the stronger forces his opponent to the ground.

Turkish wrestlers are so celebrated that they often find their way to this country.

Another entertainment is the "Shadow Pantomime." This performance consists in throwing shadows of little cardboard figures against a curtain, on the other side of which the spectators are seated. The exhibitors, carefully hidden from sight, work their marionettes with strings and wires, and are clever in making them move and bow, strike each other, and perform all sorts of feats and somersaults, while a ventriloquist makes them carry on the most animated conversation.

Horse-racing is seldom indulged in in Turkey, except among European residents. An effort made several years ago to introduce racing failed, because, it is alleged, foreign jockeys dared to allow their horses to beat the Sultan's stud. Occasionally, however, Turks get up children's races; they strap the youngsters to the saddle, give them the reins, and speed the horses off with a tremendous swipe.

Fox-hunting is not only unheard of, but is prohibited as cruel, and a Spanish bull-fight was attempted last year for the first time, only on the understanding that no blood would be shed.

Football has recently come somewhat into fas.h.i.+on, but it is only occasionally that the real game is played. Departure from rule is preferred to its observance, and often the game consists of mere kicking of the ball from one to another. This is done with great swagger and conceit, but without any of the true sporting dash.

Tennis is played to some extent, and bicycling is fairly popular, but princ.i.p.ally because it allows the rider to show off.

There are some keen sportsmen among the Turks; and hunting the wild boar offers lively sport coupled with a zest of danger, as these savage animals, if not killed outright, often turn and rip their a.s.sailants with their powerful tusks.

The "gentle art" of fis.h.i.+ng is largely indulged in as a recreation, and the Bosphorus yields excellent sport. The favourite fis.h.i.+ng there is that of the _lufer_, which weighs from 1 to 3 pounds, and is caught by night, with bright lamps throwing down a beam of light from the boat into the water. A peculiar hook, soldered to a sinker, which is brightened with mercury, is used. Gourmet fishers often take a brazier, with live coals, in the boat, and grill and eat the fish as soon as it is secured.

[Ill.u.s.tration: A HOWLING DERVISH.]

Chess--that most antiquated of games--is known under the name of _satrach_, and differs somewhat from our own, but is as highly scientific. However sceptical we may be about the story in the "Arabian Nights" of the monkey which played chess with a Grand Vizier, I can vouch for the accuracy of one regarding an Armenian banker who played it with Sultan Aziz. The stakes were properties belonging to the Crown, and so successful was the banker that, finally, his landed possessions extended from the Bosphorus to the Black Sea.

Backgammon is a favourite game; draughts differs slightly from our own, and there is a peculiar form of it played with pebbles, on a checkered board traced on a stone.

Cards are played to some extent, but as gambling and games of chance are forbidden by the Koran, cards are looked upon with suspicion, and their use discouraged. So also is betting, which ensnares young and old in our own country.

Among games for boys I may mention top-spinning. Turkish tops are made from hard wood, turned in a lathe, and painted with bands of various colours. They are spun with the thumb and the finger, or with a string, and then kept in motion with a whip and cord. A point in the game is to direct the top so that it should b.u.mp against the opponent's, and topple it over.

Kite-flying is popular, and in early spring hundreds of kites may be seen flying from the terraces over the house-tops. They are shaped like our own, and are made with bright-coloured paper, with long tails of paper strips. Little splints of wood or cane are attached to the tail for the purpose of entangling and capturing other kites. This is done by manoeuvring them about, letting them drop momentarily or rise suddenly, so as to swoop over their adversary and capture it. When these air-s.h.i.+ps have boarded, both the fliers pull in the string as rapidly as possible, and it sometimes happens that the vanquished kite is after all the victor.

Hop-scotch is as ancient as the hills, and is played in Turkey in much the same way as with us. So also are marbles and tip-cat, with the same risks, in the case of tip-cat, to the eyes of beholders as in this country.

Walnuts enter largely into the composition of boys' games. One of these consists in rolling them down a sloping board, each boy playing in turn.

The person who hits any of the nuts on the floor appropriates all he can gather. The game goes on, each player retiring when his stock of walnuts is exhausted. Another game is that of placing the walnuts in a ring, and throwing (not rolling) other nuts at them from a distance. All displaced walnuts belong to the displacer.

Knifey, or _b.i.t.c.hak_, as it is called in Turkey, is popular among girls as well as boys. They sit in a circle on the village green, and, placing an open pocket-knife on the back of their hand, throw it up in the air so that it shall on descending stick in the ground. Knuckle-bones is allied to the above, and is played with five bones, as with us, and with much the same variations.

_Pendavola_, or five pebbles, is the Greek name of knuckle-bones, when played with stones instead of bones. Both the above games date back to remote antiquity, and exist in some form with every nation.

A practice indulged in by boys and young men is that of bird-catching by means of nets, snares, or bird-lime twigs.

In autumn, when Nature shows the first hectic flushes of decay, and birds know that winter will soon be upon them, innumerable flocks traverse the regions around Constantinople on their way south. Quails arrive by scores of thousands, and, exhausted with their flight over the Black Sea, they alight near the mouth of the Bosphorus, and are easily caught in nets, and served on the tables of even the poorest inhabitants.

Smaller birds also, such as bullfinches, goldfinches, and other finches, linnets and the like, are on the wing, and to secure them bird-lime twigs are placed on an isolated tree, or one improvised for the occasion, and a booth is constructed near it, in which boys hide and watch un.o.bserved. Some half-dozen birds of various kinds are tied by the leg to a long string, one end of which is held by the occupants of the booth, and when a flock of birds is seen in the air these decoys are made to rise. Their chirping attracts the attention of the birds overhead, and, alighting on the tree, the great majority are glued to the twigs. The best are put in cages and sold as song-birds; the remainder are killed, and strung with twine through their bills, they are sold for food. Roasted and mixed with _pillaf_, the national rice dish, they are most savoury.

In contrast to this inhospitable reception of Nature's winged songsters while travelling through the land, it it pleasant to visit the bird-market, and there see venerable Turks opening their purses and buying as many of these captives as they can afford. They then throw open the prison-doors, and as the birds fly skyward with chirps of delight, the faces of the liberators grow radiant with satisfaction.

My list of games and sports is by no means exhausted, but I must close it by referring to stone-throwing, which, although not exactly a game, is in universal practice among boys, and even girls. To such an extent is it carried that dogs attacking you will often disregard a stick, but, remembering their sad experiences with stones, will take to their heels when you stoop to pick up one.

The writer himself still carries a lively impression of a fight carried on with these missiles. The scene of this skirmish, which took place when he was a boy, was near the seash.o.r.e of a village on the Bosphorus, where he and one or two English boys met a squad of Turkish children.

The latter took refuge behind a row of Turkish houses, and stones were thrown by both parties over the roofs. They fell fast and thick from the unseen foe, until at last one, doubtless thrown "at a venture," hit the writer on the head, and made the impression already referred to.

CHAPTER XII

DOGS

Everybody has heard of Turkish dogs, and I am sure you will consider this book incomplete if I pa.s.s them over in silence.

Their origin is shrouded in mystery, but naturalists would probably find them allied to the wolf and the jackal.

Tradition, however, has it that they originated in Tartary, and followed the Mongolians and Turks across the steppes, gorging themselves on the carnage of a thousand battle-fields, and finally settling down with the conquerors.

How much truth there is in this gruesome legend it is impossible to say, but the fact remains that wherever the Turk is found, there, too, the ubiquitous _kiopek_, or _skilo_, is seen. Nor does it seem to exist north of Vienna--that outermost ring of Turkish invasion. Dogs, very like _skilos_, are to be met in Hungary; you have no doubt of their existence when you cross the Danube into Servia; they are numerous in Bulgaria, and you fall into the thick of them when you reach Constantinople, where until recently they were supposed to number 80,000.

In size and appearance they resemble the short-haired Scotch collie, but without the sharpness of nose, and their ears are shorter. With all the instincts of the nomad--unkempt, unkept, and owning no master--their home is the street, where they are born and die, a boon and a bane to mankind. They are the former because they are the scavengers--sometimes the only scavengers--that clean the streets of the refuse thrown into them, and which would otherwise putrefy and breed disease. They are the latter because they collect at night over refuse-heaps, and fight, bark, and yell over the disputed possession of coveted morsels. Their noise disturbs your slumbers and irritates your nerves. Then, lying as they do in the street, you might in the darkness stumble against one, and experience in return something hard and sharp, which would send you howling in your turn.

But _skilos_ do not thrive on refuse alone; they hang about butchers'

shops, and are plentiful near the Sultan's palace-kitchens and soldiers'

barracks, where remains of food are dispensed to them. At the Ministry of War, in Stamboul, a special man is employed to give them fragments of the soldiers' bread. These he carries in a capacious hamper on his back, and, holding a thick stick in his hand, he proceeds to the public square, where hundreds of dogs await and surround him. His first action is to clear a wide circle with his stick around him, and then he suddenly empties the contents of his hamper. A rush and charge of _skilos_ follows. They tumble over one another in that hissing sea of dogs, but do not seem to mind, provided they can seize a fragment of bread and bolt away. There is strategy, however, even in dogdom, and some, more cunning and fleet-footed than others, do not join in the scrimmage, but quietly await the result at some point of vantage, and, spotting any dog that retires laden with spoil, pursue it, and s.n.a.t.c.h away its prize.

Yet, with all their habits of the tramp, they seem imbued with a sense of order, and come to an agreement among themselves as to what streets groups of them are to occupy. Woe to the dog that dares to overstep the a.s.signed boundaries. On one condition alone is he allowed to cross through another district--that of lowering his flag--_i.e._, that he puts his tail under his legs, keeps his head submissively low, and walks in the middle of the street, while all the dogs of the quarter rend the air with their barking.

You must not conclude from what precedes that _skilos_ are devoid of finer feelings and even chivalry. The following incident, related by a friend, regarding one with which I was acquainted, proves the contrary.

When a pup, Carabash (black head), as he was called, was picked up in the street, and coddled in a comfortable home. On growing up, he was provided with a kennel in the garden. One frosty morning, when the snow was lying thick on the ground, Carabash was discovered sleeping outside the kennel, which he had surrendered to an emaciated b.i.t.c.h. The intruder was driven away, but next morning was again found in occupancy, and was gruffly expelled. Carabash seemed vexed, and refused to eat his food. On the third morning the strange dog was again found in the kennel, and was this time thrashed out of the premises. She went, like Eve from Paradise, but her Adam followed, took up his residence with her under the shelter of an old tombstone in the Turkish Cemetery, and never again returned to his comfortable home. Their descendants live in the cemetery to this day.