My experience was less thrilling, but the disfiguring was of me. I discovered a Turkish barbershop, consisting of a Turk and a towel, a cane-bottomed stool, and some utensils made in Austria. The shop occupied the narrow pavement with the dogs, out of the way of the pedestrians. After shaving me with a heavy weapon, the Turk held up a formidable pair of scissors by way of asking if I wished to have my hair cut. For the moment I forgot that a shake of the head in Turkey means ‘yes,’ and a nod means ‘no’--and I shook my head. I was rescued from the wall against which I had been reclining during the process of shaving, and straightened up for the purpose, I thought, of having my hair combed. But the Turk, with a single clip, took off a large bunch of hair, and left me, without alternative, to be barbered in the latest Prelip fashion. The Turk does a great many things in an opposite way to which we do them. He writes backwards; the conductor on the horse-car at Constantinople and Salonica punches the tickets for the station at which one gets aboard instead of that to which he is destined; the wood-sawyer rubs the wood on the saw, which he holds between his legs; the sailor, feathering oars, turns the blades forward instead of backward; the officer salutes the soldier. [Illustration: A GYPSY MINSTREL.] [Illustration: A TURKISH TRUMPETER.] In the interior of Macedonia it is not necessary for the authorities to preserve the same show of order that is required in Consular towns, and our escort for the next stage of the journey came to the khan for us. There were a score of Zaptiehs in the charge of a fat but ragged sergeant, who gave me his name but could not write it. This is nothing extraordinary; one of the foreign officers of the reform scheme told me he had found but two sub-lieutenants in the whole Kossovo vilayet who could read and write. For several hours the road led along the sides of a stream winding between two ridges of mountains. The mountains were said to be infested with insurgents; this was a part of the country through which Sarafoff operated. Turks’ heads peered down at us, and silently assured us that the road was overlooked for miles beyond. Studded over the steep slopes, wherever a great boulder protruded far enough for a footing, soldiers were suspended between us and the clouds, which the mountains often pierced. Despite this survey of the route, five of our men straggled out to the front, the foremost a mile in advance. As we would descend one steep slope we could see the vanguard climbing the next. Whenever we came to a blockhouse, always pitched on the highest peak, one of the garrison would bring us cool water from the nearest fountain.