"Rot!" Will retorted. "Sooner or later men begin to dare assert
their love of freedom, and you can't blame 'em if they show it foolishly.
Some folk throw tea into harbors--some stick a king's head on a
pole--some take it out for the present in fresh-kid stuff. These
Zeitoonli are men of spirit, or I'll eat my hat!"

But if we ourselves had not been men of spirit, obviously capable
of strenuous self-defense, our Zeitoonli would have found themselves
in an awkward fix that night.

We supped off yoghourt--the Turkish concoction of milk--cow's, goat's,
mare's, ewe's or buffalo's (and the buffalo's is best)--that is about
the only food of the country on which the Anglo-Saxon thrives.
Whatever else is fit to eat the Turks themselves ruin by their way
of cooking it. And we left before dawn in the teeth of the owner
of the kahveh's warning.

"Dangerous robbers all along the road!" he advised, shaking his head
until the fez grew insecure, while Fred counted out the coins to
pay our bill. "Armenians are without compunction--bad folk! Ay,
you have weapons, but so have they, and they have the advantage of
surprise! May Allah the compassionate be witness, I have warned you!"

"There will be more than warnings to be witnessed!", growled Rustum
Khan as he rode away. "Those others, who sharpened weapons all night
long, and spoke of robbers, have been waiting three days at that
kahveh till the murdering begins!"

That morning, on Rustum Khan's advice, we made our Turkish muleteers
ride in front of us. The Zeitoon men marched next, swinging along