Page:The Sclavonic Provinces of the Ottoman Empire.djvu/14

10 ," and the incident I am about to relate is at page 204. Mr. Evans was occupied in sketching a ruin at a place called Travnik, when he became unpleasantly conscious of stones falling in his vicinity. Looking round, he perceived a lad of about fourteen: hard by were a group of armed Turks, to whom Mr. Evans made signs that he would be obliged to them to restrain the lad's proceedings. He then resumed his drawing, but shortly afterwards a large stone struck him on the middle of the back; and this time Mr. Evans, thoroughly roused, pursued his assailant, who fled for refuge into a neighbouring house. Meantime one of the Turks above-mentioned came up to him, shouting "Tursko! Tursko!" meaning, says Mr. Evans, that the boy, being a Turk, might throw as many stones as he liked at the cursed Giaour. Mr. Evans returned once more to his drawing, when the lad, accompanied by two armed Turks, one on each side, issued forth from his shelter, and the three swaggered up to insult the dog of a Christian at their leisure. Seeing Mr. Evans bent on chastising their protégé, they again shouted "Tursko! Tursko!" ("He is a Turk! he is a Turk!"), as though they would bid him lick the dust off the urchin's feet. He simply replied, "Inglese" ("I am an Englishman"), and gave the stripling a hearty box on the ear. The rage of the Turks knew no bounds. For a moment they were dumb with amazement; then one of them drew his sword-knife; but before he had time to disentangle it from his sash, Mr. Evans was on him with his stick—happily a heavy one—and the coward took to his heels. The other Turk imitated the example of his comrade; the boy made off also; and Mr. Evans was left in possession of the field. He went home and provided himself with a revolver.

A more terrible story is related at page 312. Mr. Evans had fallen in with a Belgian engineer, who was erecting a bridge across the Narenta river. As they were walking along, the engineer pointed to a part of a maize-plot, where the maize was slightly trodden down. "Do you see that?" he said; and he then recounted to him the following story. A few days ago a young Herzegovinian Christian was passing through the district, provided with a Turkish pass, properly viséd; but as he was passing by some booths near the bridge, two Turks—not officials or soldiers of any kind, but armed nevertheless—came up and demanded his pass. Though they had no right to ask for it, the young Christian complied, and handed it to them for their inspection. Thereupon the two Mahometans, who could not read a syllable, swore that the whole thing was wrong, and, seizing hold of him, began to drag him along, crying out to the Christians at the booths that they were taking him off to the Road Commission: but they had not proceeded far when they suddenly fell upon him, and hauling him off into the maize,