arrival in Egypt, I had avoided to pronounce: I called myself Murad the
Unlucky. The name and the story ran through the camp, and I was
accosted, afterwards, very frequently, by this appellation. Some,
indeed, varied their wit by calling me Murad with the purse of pebbles.

"All that I had yet suffered is nothing compared to my succeeding
misfortunes.

"It was the custom at this time, in the Turkish camp, for the soldiers to
amuse themselves with firing at a mark. The superior officers
remonstrated against this dangerous practice, but ineffectually.
Sometimes a party of soldiers would stop firing for a few minutes, after
a message was brought them from their commanders, and then they would
begin again, in defiance of all orders. Such was the want of discipline
in our army, that this disobedience went unpunished. In the meantime,
the frequency of the danger made most men totally regardless of it. I
have seen tents pierced with bullets, in which parties were quietly
seated smoking their pipes, whilst those without were preparing to take
fresh aim at the red flag on the top.

"This apathy proceeded, in some, from unconquerable indolence of body; in
others, from the intoxication produced by the fumes of tobacco and of
opium; but in most of my brother Turks it arose from the confidence which
the belief in predestination inspired. When a bullet killed one of their
companions, they only observed, scarcely taking the pipes from their
mouths, 'Our hour is not yet come: it is not the will of Mahomet that we
should fall.'

"I own that this rash security appeared to me, at first, surprising, but
it soon ceased to strike me with wonder, and it even tended to confirm my