DOI Page / Citation link:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.4752#0033
TURKISH VILLAGE LIFE IN ASIA MINOR 23
unbroken silence. I happened once in early
October, 1883, to come to a village, Tatarli, in the
Tchul-Ova, late in the afternoon, after a fatiguing
and disappointing day. I was making an experi-
mental journey, in an economical way, accompanied
by a single Turkish servant and a led horse to
carry our belongings. The experiment was an
utter failure, as will be duly set forth in chapter
xii., and I had on that day realised finally that it
was a failure, but that it must go on for a fortnight
longer. Being in a dull and languid humour, I was
disinclined for the strain of talking to and amusing
the usual assemblage of gazers at the Oda; and
thought the procedure might be profitably varied
by trying how long they would remain silent.
Except for a few words and questions on the part
of my man, Murad, when he wanted water, chopped
straw for the horses, and our other simple require-
ments, no one spoke. I worked languidly at my
route survey. Murad was even more sick of this
one-horse style of travelling than I was, and was
probably affected by my dulness, for in general
he was good company. He looked after the
horses, cooked our dinner of fe^wr-pilaff, of
which I ate a little, while the circle gazed and
meditated.
Muckle we looked, and muckle we thocht,
But word we ne'er spak' nane.
unbroken silence. I happened once in early
October, 1883, to come to a village, Tatarli, in the
Tchul-Ova, late in the afternoon, after a fatiguing
and disappointing day. I was making an experi-
mental journey, in an economical way, accompanied
by a single Turkish servant and a led horse to
carry our belongings. The experiment was an
utter failure, as will be duly set forth in chapter
xii., and I had on that day realised finally that it
was a failure, but that it must go on for a fortnight
longer. Being in a dull and languid humour, I was
disinclined for the strain of talking to and amusing
the usual assemblage of gazers at the Oda; and
thought the procedure might be profitably varied
by trying how long they would remain silent.
Except for a few words and questions on the part
of my man, Murad, when he wanted water, chopped
straw for the horses, and our other simple require-
ments, no one spoke. I worked languidly at my
route survey. Murad was even more sick of this
one-horse style of travelling than I was, and was
probably affected by my dulness, for in general
he was good company. He looked after the
horses, cooked our dinner of fe^wr-pilaff, of
which I ate a little, while the circle gazed and
meditated.
Muckle we looked, and muckle we thocht,
But word we ne'er spak' nane.