It was a curious spectacle: the soldiers dressed in a neat dark blue serge uniform, and with their feet in sandals, surrounded by little knots of relatives clad in every kind of attire that can well be imagined; fathers embracing sons, brothers rubbing cheeks with brothers, and the sergeant and corporals vainly endeavouring to get their men into some sort of order; the fat captain in the background engaged in trying to console the rejected volunteers; and the younger portion of the crowd looking inquisitively at the new Martini-Peabody rifles which had only arrived from Samsoun the previous evening. Some of the soldiery were showing how quick their rifles could be loaded and fired. The rapidity of the system created great astonishment amidst the crowd. "The giaours come from the country where these guns are made," said a bystander, pointing to Radford and myself. "The giaours have more brain than we have," said another. "If they help us, we shall eat the Russians!" exclaimed a third. We became the object of still more curiosity when a sergeant, coming to me, said that the Caimacan was in the major's room, drinking coffee, and hoped that I would join him there. "He is going to drink coffee with the Governor—he is a great man!" said one of the bystanders. Some of the volunteers, rushing up, entreated me to intercede with the Caimacan, and perhaps he could induce the major of the battalion to take them with him to the war. The major, and several other officers were squatted on a carpet in a small and rather dirty room overlooking the courtyard. The Caimacan was seated on a chair, a dervish sat by his side. The latter individual was a portly-looking man, wrapped up in a roll of brown cloth, and with a gigantic sugar-loaf hat on his head. The hat was made of grey cloth, and would have made the fortune of the leader of a nigger band. Several more officers now came into the room, amongst others the fat captain. They each in turn bent before the dervish, who placed his hands above their heads, and pronounced some sort of a blessing. A Circassian entered the building. He presently informed us that five thousand of his nation, who resided in the neighbourhood of Tokat, had expressed a wish to go to the seat of war, and to bring with them their own horses and arms. By this time the sergeants had succeeded in arranging their men in the ranks, and the major going downstairs, followed by the Imaum or chaplain of the regiment, the latter addressed the battalion. The Imaum was attired in a lieutenant's uniform, but with a green turban round the fez, as a distinctive mark of his profession. The Chaplain's discourse was not a long one. It was listened to with great attention by the populace. When he had finished the ranks were again broken by a crowd of eager, excited Mussulmans, who rushed up to embrace their friends.