After resting awhile we resumed our journey, drawing ever nearer to the great mountain wall, and crossing ridges that grew larger and larger as we progressed, the descents into some of the valleys being almost precipitous. It was upon a ridge that we met a little squad of people, four soldiers, a sergeant, and a muleteer. In the custom of suspicious Kurdistan they enquired where we were going, and betrayed themselves by their accent as Turkomans of Kirkuk. We passed after exchange of greetings, and each had descended to his separate valley, when a bullet whistled by, and we saw one of the soldiers running full speed after us. We ourselves possessed not one of the weapons of defence, nor could we escape the pursuer, for we were kept to the track by our mule, and he could scramble straight up the hill-side. So we stood, and he came up at a run, without a word seized my bridle, and with the other hand started to explore my pockets. All he discovered was a watch and twenty krans; not much, certainly, but enough to provoke an attempt at resistance on mine and Hama’s part. This infuriated the robber, or appeared to do so, for he drew his long dagger and stabbed me in the arm, making a nasty wound. Then he jabbed his rifle-butt with considerable force against Hama’s nose. Meanwhile, the old Roumanian was calling upon God. He then explored the saddle-bag, but was told by the old man that this was sugar ordered by the Shaikh of Biara, too influential a person for even a soldier to offend, so he left it and started to return. Hama had not seen him take the watch, and on hearing it from me, set out at a run after the soldier, who was now some distance away. Hearing him coming, the thief stopped, and Hama, with true Kurdish skill, made a swift leap and threw him, not, however, without encountering the knife, in the shoulder. I could not hear what he said, but he was remonstrating with the soldier, and after some time, having recovered the watch and the money, he started to come back, when the robber knelt and, taking careful aim, fired. The bullet passed just over the top of his head and carried away the little tassel on the peak of his high cap, but Hama did not hasten his pace, nor appear at all perturbed. The old man had taken advantage of the incident to escape over the brow of the hill, and was no longer visible, and as Hama came up we proceeded upon our way, the soldier watching us from the opposite side of the valley. Just over the ridge we came upon the old darvish, sitting behind a rock, very disturbed in mind, but overjoyed to see us with no worse wounds than the knife had inflicted. We now bound these up, and when Hama had to a degree stopped the flow of blood from his nose, we proceeded.