THE LOST WEALTH OF THE KINGS OF 



MIDAS 



By Ellsworth Huntington 



IT was the lazy hour just after noon 

 in the square, sunny court-yard of 

 the great khan at EregH, the present 

 terminus of the Bagdad Railway. A Hne 

 of round-topped, long-bodied wagons, 

 black or white, was drawn up on one side 

 of the yard, while on the other a group 

 of travelers and guests squatted on their 

 heels in the shade, rehearsing the time- 

 worn gossip of the ages. 



Now and again a wagoner in skin-tight 

 trousers and a girdle reaching nearly to 

 his armpits stirred up the buzzing flies, as 

 he sauntered to the well in the midst of 

 the hot court to draw water for his pa- 

 tient horses. 



The "odabashi", or ''chief of the 

 rooms", emerged from the steamy at- 

 mosphere of the coffee-seller's shop be- 

 side the wide street door, and went aloft 

 to a flagged porch on the second story, 

 bearing on his uplifted hand a tray laden 

 with blue bowls of curdled milk, flat 

 cakes of bread, a plate of cool, insipid 

 mulberries, and some tiny cups of un- 

 sweetened coffee thick as pea soup. 



Through the outer door one caught a 

 glimpse of the inevitable oriental bazaar, 

 where peasants in dirty white drawers 

 bargained with leisurely merchants in 

 baggy blue trousers, who sat contented in 

 their little shops selling cloth, raisins, 

 peas, rice, and strange brown substances 

 with lingering, indescribable odors. 

 Turks, Greeks, and Armenians were 

 there, but not a man of any race showed 

 signs of haste. Why should a man hurry 

 at noon of a summer's day with the ther- 

 mometer over 90? or why, in fact, should 

 he ever waste the precious hours of life 

 by haste? 



The stillness was broken by Luiso, the 

 wily Greek wagoner, whom I had hired 

 to drive me out into the Axylon, the great 

 dry plain which occupies the center of 

 Asia Minor north of Eregli. He looked 



very clean, as he reported that he had 

 been to the public Turkish bath at my 

 expense, according to orders, but he could 

 not see the sense of such a proceeding, 

 for he had been there only two months 

 before. 



LIBERTY I^ROM A SOIvDIER'S VIEWPOINT 



Early the next morning we started off, 

 accompanied by a mounted gendarme, a 

 needless encumbrance taken to add to our 

 dignity. He was a gruff old Turk, who 

 soon began to grumble about his wrongs. 



"What's all this talk about liberty and 

 a constitution?" he growled. "Look at 

 my gray hairs. Haven't I served the gov- 

 ernment faithfully for 40 years? And 

 now, just because there's liberty, little 

 boys with piping voices are put in our 

 places — mere school boys, 17 or 18 years 

 old, with soft cheeks, who cannot even 

 raise a mustache. They can read and 

 write and all that, but what do they 

 know? When they have to ride 10 hours 

 with the post some night they don't even 

 know the road, and shiver and shake like 

 frightened women. What's this liberty 

 good for? It hasn't brought me the 20 

 months' pay that the government owes 

 me, and now I shall be thrown out to 

 starve because they say we old men make 

 the villagers support us. Hasn't a man 

 got to live ? I don't want liberty. I want 

 to be free to get a good living." 



Thus he talked as he rode beside the 

 wagon through the pretty gardens of the 

 oasis of Eregli, past the miles of reed- 

 beds which form the miscalled Lake of 

 Ak Gyol, and out into the great dreary 

 plain of the Axylon. When he fell be- 

 hind for a space the Greek took up the 

 complaint, and said that liberty might be 

 all right, but so far as he could see it 

 was liberty for the Moslem and not for 

 the Christian. 



