A little uninhabited island, called Oxya, about fifteen miles from the city, was selected for the purpose, and 30,000 were transported to it. But the island had no water, and the supply of bread was difficult and irregular, and the result was that six months after their transportation only one solitary dog, of which I have the photograph, survived to tell the tale. Discouraged by their want of success, Government has, I understand, now given up the attempt to exterminate the _skilos_, and any of my readers who happen to visit Constantinople will probably have the pleasure of forming their acquaintance. CHAPTER XIII THE GALATA BRIDGE AND THE BAZAARS An attempt has been made in these pages to conduct the reader over the domains of the Sultan of Turkey, and to introduce him to some of his subjects, but there is perhaps no better place in the world for getting a panoramic view of the various races depicted than on the bridge which spans the Golden Horn, and joins Stamboul with the Galata quarter of Constantinople (see frontispiece). Nor can you find the various products of the Empire exhibited within a more suitable compass than in the bazaars of Stamboul. It is computed that no less than twenty million persons pass over the bridge in the course of a year--_i.e._, about 50,000 daily. The races there represented are too numerous to mention. Each wears its distinctive dress, and foot and head gear, and the contrast of design and colour is wonderful, and not limited to women, as in a European crowd. Here comes an Albanian in white petticoats and crimson sash bristling with pistols; there goes an Embassy _cavass_ resplendent in scarlet; there is an _Ulema_, or high ecclesiastic, with green turban and flowing robes of white, and another dressed in magenta and a white turban; soldiers in khaki or in pale blue come next, and Young Turk officers all spick and span in new uniforms. A Whirling Dervish, with tall, conical, brown head-dress then moves majestically along, followed by a Bedouin, with camel-hair mantle over his shoulders, and silken kerchief over his head. Alongside him is an M.P. from Arabia, with flowing green coat, and white cap with green turban around it, indicating consanguinity with Mahomet. As for representatives of the other sex, you see groups shuffling along in soft yellow boots, and dragging loose overshoes--overshoes which often prove serviceable weapons of attack to any Turkish woman who has been insulted. The Turkish ladies' dress is frequently bright-coloured, and a white veil is thrown over the head and face, but sometimes the dress itself is used for that purpose. The fashion, however, is prevailing that black should be used, and the women look like silhouettes flitting along. Should it happen to be a Friday, sounds of military music greet your ear, and you hear the tramp of infantry as the Sultan's soldiers march along to line the streets through which he must pass on his way to mosque.