ran into a lot of difficulty when we tried to make our way down to the
town. A couple of miles above the main town there is a small settlement
grouped on a hill around the mosque of Zain El Abidin. The "mutabelli," or
keeper of the shrine, is an important personage in the community, so when
he appeared riding a richly caparisoned stallion and offered to accompany
us to the town, we welcomed the opportunity of going in under such good
auspices. We decided to take Seyid Mustapha, for that was his name, in one
of the Ford vans with us. It was comparatively easy to get the light car
up over the precipitous, rocky trail; and eventually one of the fighting
cars succeeded in following. I was driving, with Mustapha beside me. In
front of us on a white horse galloped the Seyid's attendant singing and
shouting and proclaiming our arrival. We stopped at Mustapha's house for a
cup of coffee and a discussion of events. The information which we secured
from him afterward proved unusually correct. I took him on with us to the
town so that he could identify the head man and see that we got hold of
the right people. Our reception was by no means cordial, although after we
had talked a little and explained what we were after, the mayor became
cheerful and expansive. He had a jovial, rotund face, covered in large
part by a bushy beard, and would have done excellently as a model for
Silenus. In the town were a handful of Turkish stragglers--among them a
stalwart Greek who spoke a little English. He said that he had been
impressed into service by the Turks and was most anxious to join our
forces.

We found large stores of ammunition and other supplies, among them a
wireless set. What interested us most, I am afraid, was the quantity of
chickens that we saw strutting about. A few of them and a good supply of
eggs found their way to the automobiles in short order. We were always
very particular about paying for whatever we took, and seeing that the men
did likewise; our reputation went before us, and the native, as a rule,