The second incident at Akra was of a still more farcical character. A Kurd had come in from the mountains in order to purchase a mule, and after a good deal of chaffering had traded off a pistol in exchange. The seller had promptly proceeded to test the purchase money by the rather drastic method of firing a bullet through his leg; and, on the accident being reported to us, we had deemed it our duty to go and volunteer "first aid." The patient, however, was quite content with his own remedies, and not at all anxious to experiment in new-fangled treatment _a la Franga_. He was plugging the hole himself with a mixture of butter and cow dung which he was poking in with a stick! Probably this dressing possesses some kind of antiseptic qualities; for it is much favoured in the mountains, and somehow does not seem to prevent the wounds healing. But perhaps the cure results not by virtue, but in spite, of the remedy, for with these tough-fibred mountaineers "first intention" will hardly be denied. CHAPTER VII AN ORIENTAL VICH IAN VOHR (THE SHEIKH OF BARZAN) "It is real rough travelling in the mountains," says the Mosul resident casually; and the traveller just arrived from Europe hears that innocent observation with dismay. He has undergone a fortnight of _arabas_ and _khans_ and _chóls_ and _zaptiehs_, and lo! that purgatorial experience is dismissed as a holiday jaunt. It is therefore with some misgiving that he enters those formidable mountains where he has been promised enlightenment as to what "real rough travelling" means. Let it be recorded for his consolation that he will learn the worst at the outset. If he is not daunted at Akra he may quite fairly count on winning through. The ascent from that town to the top of the pass behind it is as nasty a bit of climbing as any in all Hakkiari, and he who achieves it with credit may pass as a graduated mountaineer. The path is not so nerve-shaking in appearance as some of the dizzy goat-tracks that have to be encountered beyond it; but it is an epitome of every trial which can be ordinarily presented in concrete form. It is steep and rugged and rotten. It traverses slabs of sloping rock, and sheets of slippery scree. Its surface is pitted like honeycomb with holes about twelve inches deep and six or eight inches in diameter; and if any better traps could be devised for tripping unwary pedestrians, or breaking the legs of horses, no doubt they would be provided to make the entanglement complete. Our _katarjis_ admit that it is bad, but regard the badness as incorrigible. "Her nainsell didna mak ta road" (a fact that is quite self-evident), and "if shentlemans are seeking ta Red Gregarach" what better going can they expect?