much milk as we required. I learned in conversing with them, that there are as many as 700 Yezeedee families scattered among the Coords of this district.
Our party now consisted of a motley group: first ourselves, accompanied by three servants, one a Greek from Athens and two Mosuleans; Mr. Rassam's brother; a black confidential slave sent from Mosul by his master, a rich Mohammedan merchant, to bring back his brother who had been absent for the last fifteen years. The slave, like Eliezer of Damascus appears to be an important personage, and was attended on this occasion by a Coordish servant. Next a young Mardeenlee, returning to his office of pipe-bearer to the Pasha of Aleppo after leave of absence; this gentleman had also a juvenile domestic. A Yezeedee, who was converted to Islamism when Hafiz Pasha subdued the Sinjar tribes. This fellow had joined us in the hope of being allowed to cross the Euphrates at Birejik without a passport. His Mohammedanism seemed to consist in constant repetitions of the Fateha, or first chapter of the Koran, and in cursing Melek Taoos, whom he declared to be the Devil. Next a poor Armenian who was fleeing from the tyranny of Bedr Khan Beg to seek a livelihood at Urfah. And lastly our guards, consisting of five horsemen sent with us by Omar Beg of Sewrek, and two Coords from Kara Joorni. These last mentioned individuals were strong lusty fellows, who trudged on foot, keeping pace with our mules, ever and anon laughing at the fears of their mounted companions. Four of these I found to be runaway soldiers from the army of Hafiz Pasha at the famous battle of Nizib. They gloried in their discomfiture and escape, and said as nearly as possible in Turkish:
"He who fights, and runs away,
Will live to fight another day."
And so it will be with them to the end of the chapter, for a more cowardly set of poltroons on horseback than the irregular provincial Turkish cavalry I have never seen. Their glee on leaving Kara Joorni, thinking that we were going by the safer road, was only equalled by their sullen disappointment when they found out their mistake. On leaving the village they played off all manner of warlike antics, discharged their pistols, flourished their lances, and tried to unhorse one another, whilst
