Before we left Constantinople, my friend Ahmed Midhat Effendi had given me a letter written in Turkish characters which he said would ensure us a kindly welcome in every part of the Sultan’s dominions. So indeed it turned out to be on different occasions, notably one evening when we halted in a Kurdish village and passed the night in the underground dwelling of a chieftain. We squatted down on the floor in a circle, when Colonel Rushti Bey brought out Midhat Effendi’s letter, the careful calligraphy of which called forth the admiration of those present, and read its contents out aloud. Therein was set forth how the proprietor of one of the greatest journals in the world, moved by a noble impulse to see that justice was done to the Osmanli, had sent “two fearless, impartial, and, above all, learned men of letters to see things as they were with their own eyes, and to report thereon to the outer world.” It was quite an impressive spectacle to see these men of supposed lawless proclivities listening devoutly to the description of our mission therein set forth, to champion the truth against the slander of the “Frank,” ignorant of the justice of the Turkish cause. As each sentence was read out in a clear, sympathetic voice, the interest of the audience grew visibly, until at the close, as with one voice, those present ejaculated in unison, “May Allah bless and protect them!” It was an impressive scene in its simplicity and evident sincerity. Early the next morning, when we departed, our hosts declined to take any payment for their hospitality; on the other hand, they pressed us to accept presents from them—daggers and belts richly inlaid with silver and gold ornamentation, even a horse each to Dr. Hepworth and myself. All these we declined, but I could not refuse the skin of a bear which the chief himself had killed with his dagger in a regular “hand to paw” encounter, as we were assured. It served as a rug in my study for years afterwards. Even when we left, the kindliness of our hosts was not exhausted, for a number of Kurds accompanied us for a long distance on horseback—an attention which was extended to us right through that part of the country wherever we stopped. This escort grew sometimes to such dimensions that on occasions we were accompanied by several hundred horsemen, most of whom belonged to the irregular force of cavalry known by the name of Hamidiè, already referred to. They rode ahead of us, galloped in circles round us, shouting lustily and firing off their rifles and otherwise demonstrating the festive frame of mind into which the visit of the Padishah’s representatives among his unruly vassals had plunged them. The further we penetrated into the country the more numerous became the native escort which joined and followed us from station to station amid lively demonstrations of good feeling.