THE TURK AND HIS WAYS.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXI, Issue 61, 26 October 1911, Page 2

THE TURK AND HIS WAYS.

THRILLING EXPERIENCES OF JOHN FOSTER . FRASER. When the Turks wore engaged. ip cutting the throats of Armenians to teach them that Christians were dogs, and deserving no better into at the hands of the Mohammedans, I was at Mersina, in Asia Minor. On the plains outside the town'were considerable bodies of Turkish soldiers—a good-natured, easy going, but dirty and unkempt crowd. They were going to be moved' on into Armenia, and I had reason to suspect what their purpose was. So when they were moved up country, 1 made it my business to accompany them. Turned Back. It was not long, however, before I was made aware that my presence was not required. The Turkish officers were civil and courteous. The soldiers were told off to watch me,land never once was I allowed out of sight. Anyway, I got as Tar as Adana, and there 1 was asked point-blank to return. Of course, I demurred; but 1 was reluctantly obliged to submit, and under a sort of escort I was brought back to Mersina. Ten days later the infamous massacre took place at Marash, when some seven hundred Christians were killed. Later’on, by way of Trans-Caucasia, I got into Russia Armenia. Refugees fleeing from Turkish barbarities at Van were pouring over the border, and seeking- shelter in the quaint old monastery of Etchmiadzin, which lies right within the shadow of Mount Ararat. I never saw such a miserable, hunted-looking crowd. Later on, 1 went to Monastir, the very centre of the trouble, and made the acquaintance of d most interesting man,, the , governor of the province, Hilini Pasha,’ who subsequently became Prime Minister of Turkey. Bulgarians v. Creeks. I have seen killing in the streets of Warsaw and Baku miring the Russian revolution, but 1 have never been in quite so jumpy a place as Monastir. It lies just about half-way between Bulgaria and Greece. 'The population, apart from the Turkish soldiers, was of Bulgarians' and Greeks. But Greeks, if they belonged to the B\„V garian Church, were counted as Bulgarians by Bulgaira; whilst Bulgarians who belonged to the Greek Church were reckoned as Greeks by the Greeks. 'Then both nationalities insisted that their own people were Greeks or Bulgarians, no matter to what church they belonged. Bands of Bulgarians wore going into Bulgarian villages, reckoned as Greeks because of religion, and by methods quite as cruel as those adopted by the Turks, converted them to the faith of their fathers. 'The Greeks did the same thing with their people. When two converted bands of marauders, ostensibly pretending that they were there to guard their coreligionists from Moslem fury, met, they fell upon ond another, and there was slaughter. The Turks got blamed for a good deal of this, though they had nothing whatever to do with it; Turkish troops were frequently sent to punish the disturbers of the peace. As the Turk is cruel and barbarous, he burnt houses, insulted women, and left scores of bodies to fester in the sun. A Stay With the Consul. Hilmi Pasha gave''me an escort of Turkish soldiers. So for three weeks I went off with horses into the mountains, pushing right into the worst parts of Albania, and gathering what information I could about what was going, on in that region. The soldiers were given not out of any personal regard, but simply to prevent me from being captured by brigands and held for a considerable sum as ransom, which the Turkish authorities woidd probably have to pay. I 'remember staying with the British Consul at Monastir; and one morning, after breakfast, we found lying outside the door a parcel containing an ear, which was said to belong to a young fellow of Greek-Brit-ish parentage, who had been captured. Of course, 1 knew of cases where the capture was what may be described as a “plant.” That is, a foreign Christian would allow himsjif or herself to be seized by alleged brigands, but really political partisans, and hidden in the mountains while a lansom was being squeezed out of tne Turkish Government. Now, on the hilltops, especially in the wild territory of Albania, we frequently saw bands of horsemen watching us. Had they liked, they could have easily overwhelmed our little party. But, despite the absence of -telegraph wires, nows travels quickly over the hills, and the bandsmen were well aware that a British journalist and his servant were travelling through the country. Indeed, I nursed the idea that, instead of the Turkish soldiers guarding me, I was really guarding them, because both 1 and my servant wore wearing grey slouch hatsj which was a better inch-, cation than a passport that we were not Mohammedans . Surrounded by Hillsmen. There was one night when I thought there would be trouble. We had been in the saddle for sixteen hours, traversing the most rugged country imaginable. We lit our fires, cooked our food, ami tumbled on the floor and went to sleep. Suddenly my servant wakened me, and in a whisper I was informed that the place was surrounded by hillsmen. Through the narrow slits that served as windows 1 was about to peer into the darkness; and there, sure enough, beyond the walls of the compound, where our horses were, was a band of hillsmen. They obviously intended an attack. We were all right in ordinary fighting, but what we were afraid of was that, some of the attackers would get up to the door way with bundles of straw, set lire to it, and smoke or burn ns out. The End cf an Adventure. . It was very dramatic, the manner in which the Turkish soldiers very quietly got their guns, and each took up a position at a window, and waited for eventualities. The hillsmen, moving in a dark throng, made cautious survey. We waited for them to come nearer before opening fire. 1 was slightly excited, because 1 anticipateckThat we were in for a real adventure. But truth compels me to tell that when dawn came the hillsmen cleared off, and wo were able to no down and have more sleep—rest that was sorely needed. Living roughly, following ways which were often nothing but rude tracks over the mountains, frequently drenched to the skin by storms, having little to eat, and often at night ton tired to prepare a wholesome meal; constantly running risks of being shot at and once, at any rate, spending a couple of days in the wretchedness of fever, it may be thought by the homeliving man that such a life has no pleasures in it. Yet, when once such a life has been tasted, the naturally healthy man gets to like it.