136 
A-CRUSADE IN THE EAST. 
of caiques are always in readiness to take passengers. For a 
quarter of a cent you can walk over on the bridge ; but let us 
suppose that you have never been in a caique, and are tempted 
by its swallow-like bows, as also by the solicitations of a sturdy 
fellow, turbaned and breeched in genuine Oriental style, who 
beckons you to jump in. A very pretty one is that, of which 
he appears to be the chief ornament. It is a perfect little 
fairy boat, trim and elegant in form, with a very sharp bow, 
low in the water, and raking up at the stern, which is also 
sharp; smooth as glass outside, and decorated inside with 
carving in the true Turkish style ; a beautiful model for swift¬ 
ness and the very perfection of gracefulness. You jump in. 
Mashalla ! what a dainty little duck of a thing it is ! An 
inch more of headway would have tilted you. overboard. 
Down you plump yourself on the carpet that covers the bot¬ 
tom and hold on nervously to the gunwales, your head peep¬ 
ing up and your eyes agog at all the strange faces around you, 
and the violent motions of the boatmen. Caiques are shearing 
in and skimming out all around. Guar da! guar da! is bawl¬ 
ed in your ears, till, like the cry of wolf, it ceases to attract no¬ 
tice ; and just then the long sharp bow of a rival caique, coming 
suddenly up, grazes your hand and bears off triumphantly with 
the skin of your knuckles. Guar da! guar da! again. This 
time you dodge ; no damage is done. Soon you are fairly out 
of the thickest part of the crowd. Away darts the caique, 
scarcely throwing a ripple from her bows; turbans, fezzes, white 
robes, red cloaks and blue, flit by in other caiques ; away you 
go ! sweeping with a snake-like trail through a mist of 
confusing sights and din of sounds, darting in and out under 
the dark arches of the bridge, wheeled miraculously under 
chain cables and outstretched ropes, under the sterns of huge 
ships, across the bows of foaming barges, through whole fleets 
of racing small craft, till you are suddenly whirled around as 
upon a pivot and backed dexterously into the wharf at Stam- 
boul, where the sum of two cents, deposited upon the bottom 
of the caique, affords the boatman an idea of your exalted 
rank in society. From this point of debarkation it is a perfect 
Babel till you can extricate yourself from the crowd. Boat- 
