Читать книгу The Story Teller of the Desert—"Backsheesh!" or, Life and Adventures in the Orient - Thomas Wallace Knox - Страница 78

CHAPTER IV—NEARING THE ORIENT—“BACKSHEESH!”

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Table of Contents

Among the Fleas—The Mystery of the Bedclothes—A Cool Explanation—Under the Spray—What became of the Dragon—A Queer Story about Flies—What is an “Araba?”—Conversation without Words—Changing Shirts in Public—The Iron Gate—Scene at the Custom House—Official Obstinacy—The “Sick Man”—Scenes in the Orient—The Mysteries of the Quarantine—How We Dodged the Turks—The Turk and his Rosary—Pity the Poor Israelite!—Why an Unlucky Jewess was Whipped—The Secret of the Turkish Loan—How the Money is Spent—Ten Million Dollars Gone!—What is “Backsheesh?”

THEN continuing our journey down the river, we took passage on board a local boat, which proved to be far less cleanly than the “accelerated steamer.”

The table was not good, and the cots had each but a single sheet; the deficiency in bedding, and its inability to keep one warm, were met by a large and assorted lot of fleas that made things lively through the night, and brought our bodies into a condition resembling that of a lobster recovering from a case of measles.

The Judge snored happily through all surrounding troubles, and the “Doubter” was inclined to disbelieve the existence of the industrious insects until, when morning came, he looked at himself in the glass. Even then he continued sceptical, and attributed the red spots on his skin to the claret at Belgrade, and possibly to a bad cigar which he smoked the day before.

As a general thing, you cannot induce a hotel or steamboat servant to admit the existence of anything disagreeable about the scene of his labors; but we found it different on board the Basiasch has nothing attractive; it consists of a railway station, a hotel, and a heap of coal. Before we tied up to the wharf, its population was much larger than five minutes later, when the passengers from the railway had come on board.

We steamed on from Basiasch to Moldowa, where we lay through the night. I took an evening ramble through the town, which possesses nothing remarkable except its population, which is half military and half peasant in character; a sort of Russian Cossack that performs military duty a part of the time, and works in the field when not engaged in the service of the state. Next morning, we were to be called bright and early to continue Ferdinand Max. We interrogated the cabin steward on the deficiency of bedding, and he replied that they had enough when the season began, but the fleas had eaten it up! The explanation was so reasonable, that even the “Doubter” accepted it!


The Story Teller of the Desert—

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