Chapter 18 Chapter One

It must be remembered that Van Mittern, lamented at having missed the ancient Colchis, intended to make up for the loss by seeing the mythical Faz.The river, now incongruously called the Leon, flows into Poti and forms a small port on the Black Sea coast. In fact, the venerable Dutchman had to give up his hopes, as usual!He should indeed follow in the footsteps of Jason and the Argonauts, and run through the famous places where the brave son of Esson came to claim the Golden Fleece!No!What he had to do now was to leave Poti and follow in the footsteps of Lord Kailabon, meeting him on the border between Turkey and Russia.

So Van Mittyn was once again disappointed!It was already 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and they planned to start the next morning, September 13th.So Van Mittern could only look at Poti as if it were a park, with the ruins of an ancient fortress, six or seven thousand people living in houses built on piled foundations, and wide streets lined with frogs. A ditch that never stops, a lighthouse overlooking a busy port. With so little time, Van Mittern could console himself only with the thought: get out of this town in the swamp between Leon and Capaca, and he will never catch the vicious disease. Malaria--this disease is most dreadful in this unhealthy seashore.

While the Dutchman was thinking wildly, Ahme was busy replacing the stagecoach, which would have been in service for a long time had it not been for the extreme carelessness of its owner.But looking for a car for traveling, whether new or old, you obviously can't expect to find one in the small town of Poti. "Russian Perekradnaya" and "Kalaba" can be found, and Lord Kailabon's purse is here, and he can pay whatever he wants.But in the final analysis, this type of vehicle is just a relatively primitive cart, without any living facilities, and it is not the same as a sedan-type carriage for travel.No matter how strong the shaft horses, such wagons could not outrun a stagecoach, and there might be delays before the journey was over!

Yet to see Ahme can't even hesitate when it comes to choosing a means of transport!Neither carriages nor carts!Now there are no cars!And the important thing was to see his uncle as soon as possible, before he would cause any trouble due to his stubbornness.So he decided to complete the 20-kilometer journey between Poti and the Turkish-Russian border on horseback.He was an excellent rider, it goes without saying, and Nisib used to accompany him on his rides and walks.Van Mittain had of course had some equestrian training, so when Ahmey asked him, he was not as incredibly clever as Bruno, but he was willing to go with him.

So it was decided to start the next morning and reach the border that evening. After these things were done, Ahme wrote a long letter to Selim's bank.It began, of course, with "Dear Amasya!" In it he told of all the twists and turns of the journey, the accident at Poti, why he had left his uncle and was now going to reunite.He also added that the return date would not be delayed because of this, and he would make good use of the remaining time and distance, so that the horses and people could travel as quickly as possible.He repeatedly told her not to miss the appointment, and to arrive at the Sigutari Villa with her father and Najib on the scheduled date, even a little earlier.

Ahme also wrote many words of praise for the girl.There was a regular mail from Poti to Odessa, and the letter could be taken the next day.So in less than 48 hours, it could be delivered to its destination, opened, read carefully, perhaps attached to a chest, and Ahme, who was on the other side of the Black Sea, believed to hear her heartbeat.In fact, the distance between the two lovers is the farthest at the moment, and they are at the two ends of an ellipse. It is Ahme's uncle who is forcing him to move forward along the curve of this ellipse with his incorrigible stubbornness! What was Van Mettain doing when he wrote this letter to comfort and reassure Amasya?

After dinner at the hotel, Van Mittern took a pleasant stroll along the streets of Poti, under the shade of the "Central Park", along the piers and seawalls of the city's port.But he was alone, and Bruno did not follow him this time. Why didn't Bruno walk by his side, even in order to convey to him his respectful, but correct, view of the complexity of reality and the danger of the future? This is because Bruno had an idea.If there were no carriages and stagecoaches in Poti, perhaps there would be a scale.It was a unique opportunity for the emaciated Dutchman to get his current weight accurately and compare it with his previous weight.

Bruno then left the hotel, silently taking the owner's guidebook with him, because he didn't understand Russian measurement, and the guidebook contained conversion methods. There are always several large scales on the port wharf where the customs perform their duties, and a person can be easily weighed on the scales. Bruno was not at all embarrassed by this.For a few kopecks, the customs officials obeyed his whims.They put a large weight on one pan of the scale, while Bruno stood somewhat uneasy on the other pan. What made him very painful was that the weighing pan with the weights was still on the ground.No matter how hard Bruno tried—perhaps he thought he could make himself heavier by inhaling enough air—he could not lift the weight.

"Damn it!" he said, "that's all I'm worried about!" Someone replaced the first piece with a lighter weight...the pan still didn't move. "How is this possible!" Bruno cried, feeling all the blood rushing to his heart. At this moment, his eyes stopped on a kind face full of concern for him. "My master!" he cried. It was indeed Van Mittern, who had come for a walk on the quay, and happened to come to the spot where the clerks were weighing his servant. "My lord," Bruno called again, "are you here?" "It is I," replied Van Mettaine. "I'm glad to see you're…"

"Weigh me... yes!" "Then what's the result?..." "The result is that I don't know if there is a scale that is light enough to weigh my current weight!" The expression on Bruno's face when he answered was so painful that Van Mittain could not even utter a word of reproach. "What!" said he, "have you grown so thin since we set off, poor Bruno?" "Look, master!" Sure enough, someone put a third weight on the weighing pan, which was much lighter than the first two weights. This time Bruno lifted it gradually—the two weighing pans were balanced on the same horizontal line.

"Finally figured it out!" said Bruno, "but how much does this scale weigh?" "Not bad! How much does this scale weigh?" In Russian measurement it is exactly four pounds, not more, not less. Van Mittern immediately took the travel guide that Bruno handed him, and calculated with reference to the measurement comparison table of the two countries. "How is it, master?" Bruno asked, curiosity tinged with anxiety, "How much does the Russian pound weigh?" "About sixteen and a half Dutch pounds," Van Mettaine answered after a moment of mental calculation. "So total?..." "A total of exactly 75 and a half pounds, or 151 catties!" With a cry of despair, Bruno jumped out of the weighing pan of the scale, causing the other weighing pan to slam on the ground.He collapsed on a stool and nearly passed out. "151 catties!" He repeated it over and over, as if he had lost one-ninth of his life. Indeed, when he started, Bruno weighed 84 pounds, or 168 kilograms, but now he is only 75 and a half pounds, or 151 kilograms.This means that he has lost 17 pounds!However, the 26-day journey was relatively easy to walk. There was no real starvation, nor was it terribly tired.Now that the pain has started, when will it stop?Bruno had spent nearly 20 years following a holistic approach to health care to round out his belly, so what would it look like?To what extent would the reasonable weight he had maintained drop?Especially now that there is no stagecoach, and it is tiring and dangerous to pass through some resource-poor regions, the conditions faced by this ridiculous journey are different! That's what Van Mettain's anxious servant thinks.A frightening fleeting vision of an unrecognizable Bruno in the form of a walking skeleton appeared in his mind! He immediately made up his mind without hesitation.He stood up and pulled the helpless Dutchman to the pier as he walked back to the hotel: "Master," he said, "there's a limit to everything, even human stupidity, and we can't go on like this!" Van Mettain listened to the servant's confession with the calmness he always retained under all circumstances. "Why, Bruno," he asked, "are you suggesting that we stay in this remote corner of the Caucasus?" "No, master, no! I only suggest that you let Lord Kerabon go back to Constantinople as he wishes, and we will go back there in a leisurely way on one of the steamers in Poti. The sea won't make you sick, and I won't get sick and lose weight—but I will, if I go on traveling like this." "It may be a sensible idea from your point of view, Bruno," replied Van Mettaine, "but from my point of view it is a different matter. After three-quarters of the journey It is worth considering abandoning my friend Kerabong during the journey!" "Lord Kerabon is not your friend at all," Bruno replied. "He's Lord Kerabong's friend, that's all. Besides he isn't and can't be my friend, and I can't go on wasting away to satisfy his capricious pride! You said three-quarters of the way The distance is true, but the remaining quarter is through a semi-civilized country, and I think there will be many difficulties! You have not encountered any unpleasant things personally, my master, yes; but I say to you again, be careful if you are stubborn! . . . You will be wretched!" Bruno's persistent prophecy that he would be in serious trouble, and the impossibility of getting out without incident, worried Van Mittern.These suggestions came from the mouth of a consistently loyal servant, and they did have some influence on him.Indeed, traveling beyond the Russian borders, through the inaccessible regions of Trabzon and northern Anatolia ruled by pashas, ​​little under the control of Turkish authorities, is at least something worth thinking twice about.Van Mettain's character was a bit weak, so he felt a little shaken.Bruno could not fail to see this, so he insisted on demanding more, finding many arguments to prove his reasons, and showing his master his clothes fluttering from his belt due to his shrinking belly.From a deep conviction, he spoke eloquently, convincingly, even eloquently, and finally won his master to agree with him that his own destiny must be distinguished from that of his friends in Kerabong. Van Mettain was pondering, listening attentively, nodding when he heard something that made sense.When this serious conversation was over, all he feared was an argument about it with his incorrigible traveling companion. "Very well," arranged Bruno, who had something to say about everything. "The situation is very favorable now. Since Lord Kailabang is not there, don't talk about etiquette with Lord Kailabang. Let his nephew Ahme go to the border to meet him!" Van Mettain shook his head negatively. "It's just a little bit of a hassle to do that," he said. "What's the trouble?" Bruno asked. "It's that I left Constantinople with almost no money, and now my purse is empty!" "Master, can't you get the bank in Constantinople to wire enough money?" "No, Bruno, it's impossible! My money in Rotterdam cannot have been..." "So we don't have the necessary money when we go back? . . . " asked Bruno. "I've got to get help from my friend Kerabon!" replied Van Metertaine. This statement did not reassure Bruno.If his master saw Lord Kerabon again and told him his plans, there would be a dispute, and Van Mettern would not have the upper hand.But what to do?Directly to young Ahme?No!it's no use!Ahme would never help Van Mittel think of a way to get rid of his uncle, so this was out of the question. After discussing for a long time, the master and the servant finally made such a decision; they left Poti together with Ahme, and they would meet Lord Kairabang at the border between Turkey and Russia.Once there, Van Mettaine declared that he could no longer travel like this on the pretext that he was ill and could no longer bear the toss of the road.In such a case his friend Kerabon could not force him, nor would he deny him the money necessary to return him by sea to Constantinople. "That's all right!" thought Bruno, "the conversation between my master and Lord Kerabon was very serious after all!" The two returned to the hotel, where Ahme was waiting for them.They don't say a word about their plans, because speaking out would be a snag.Everyone went to bed after dinner.Van Mettain dreamed that Kerabong had chopped him up to a pulp.They woke up early in the morning and found four horses ready to "run" at the door. What was strange was Bruno's scowling look as he mounted the saddle.He had a new dissatisfaction with Lord Kairabang, but he had no other choice but to ride on the road too.Fortunately, he was riding a small old horse, which was unlikely to lose his temper and was easy to subdue.The horses of Van Mettain and Nisib needn't worry either.Ahme alone had a fairly athletic horse, but as a good rider his only concern was to limit its speed so as not to throw his companions too far. They left Poti at 5 o'clock in the morning.After walking 20 versts, we ate our first meal in the town of Nikolaia; after walking another 15 versts, we had our second meal at about 11 o'clock; after walking another 20 versts, we arrived at 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Zhong, Ahme took a short rest in Batum, which is the northern part of Razistan, which belonged to the Moscow Empire. This port, which used to belong to Turkey, is quite aptly located at the mouth of the Chorok River, the ancient Batis River.It is a pity that Turkey has lost it, as this vast port has an excellent anchorage capable of accommodating a large number of ships, even of great displacement.As for the city, it was only an important fair, all of wooden buildings, with a main street in the middle.But Russia's hand was overreached in Transcaucasus, and it seized Batum, just as it later seized Razistan's final frontier. Ahme had stayed here years ago and he knew he hadn't returned to his country.So he crossed Gunieh, at the mouth of the Chorok River, to the village of Makryaro, 20 versts from Batum, and traveled another 10 versts to the frontier. Here on the side of the road a man was waiting for them, under the watchful eye of a company of cossacks.His feet stood within the borders of the Ottoman Empire, and his fury was not difficult to imagine but indescribable. That is Lord Kerabong. It was six o'clock in the evening, and Lord Kerabong had been furious since midnight yesterday - the exact time he was deported from the Russian border. A very simple shack on the side of the road, unable to shelter from the wind and rain, and the door could not be closed, poorly lived and poorly fed, this was his resting place, or rather his refuge. At a distance of half a mile from here, Ahmet and Van Mittain each saw their uncle and friend, and spurred on, dismounting a few steps away from him. Lord Kerabong walked up and down, dictating and talking to himself, or rather arguing with himself, because no one was there to oppose him.He didn't seem to see his companions. "Uncle!" Ahme shouted, letting Nisib and Bruno watch over his and the Dutchman's horses, stretching out his arms. "uncle!" "My friend!" cried Van Mettaine too. Kerabon grabbed the hands of the two men, pointed at the Cossacks walking by the side of the road, and shouted: "Take the train! These scumbags forced me to take the train! . . . I! . . . I!  …" It was obvious that Lord Kerabon was forced to use a mode of transport unworthy of a true Turk, which made Lord Kerabong very angry.He can't stand it!His encounter with Lord Safar, his argument with this unscrupulous man and everything that followed, his stagecoach being smashed and leaving him in a situation where he couldn't travel, all this was nothing compared to this extraordinary event. Worth mentioning: take the train!He, an old believer! "Yes! That's mean!" replied Ahme, who thought it impossible to contradict his uncle at such a time. "Yes, meanness!" continued the Dutchman, "but, my friend Kerabon, nothing serious has happened to you..." "Hey! Watch what you say, Mr. van Mettaine!" cried Kerabon. "Nothing serious, is that what you said?" Ahme signaled that the Dutchman had said the wrong thing.His old friend had just called him "Mr. Van Mittain!" and continued to question him: "Tell me what you mean by the disgraceful thing you say: nothing serious?" "My friend Kerabong, I mean none of the usual accidents, derailments, crashes..." "Mr. Van Mettaine, you'd be better off cheating!" cried Kelabon. "Yes! By Allah! Better to cheat! Lose arms, legs, and head, you hear, than live after such disgrace!" "Believe me, my friend Kerabon! . . . " went on Van Mettaine, not knowing how to make up for what he had said. "It's not a matter of what I can believe!" Kerabong replied, walking up to the Dutchman, "but what do you believe! . . . You don't care about something that just happened to someone from 30 years who thought it was your friend superior!" It would obviously mess things up if this talk continued, so Ahme wanted to change the subject. "Uncle," said he, "I think it is safe to say that you have misunderstood Mr. Van Mettaine..." "yes?" "Or rather Mr. van Mettaine didn't make it clear! He's exactly as angry as I am at what the damned Cossacks have done to you!" Thankfully the words were all in Turkish, which the "damned Cossacks" knew nothing about. "But all in all, uncle, the root of all this trouble is that another person is responsible for what you have suffered! It is the man who shamelessly blocked your railway crossing through Poti, that Safar!  …" "Yes! It's that Safar!" Kerabong yelled, distracted just in time by his nephew. "It's absolutely true, it's that Safar!" Van Mittain quickly echoed. "That's all I want to say, friend Kerabong!" "Shame on Safar!" Kerabong said. "Shameful Safar!" Van Mittain said in the tone of the other party. He even wanted to use a stronger adjective, but couldn't think of it. "If only we could meet him! . . . " said Ahme. "If only he could go back to Poti!" yelled Kerabong, "make him pay for his insolence, challenge him, dig out his heart, and hand him over to the executioner! . . . " "Puncture him all over the body! . . . " Van Mettaine thought it appropriate to add that he had also become cruel in order to regain a friendship that was at stake. This proposal, which will no doubt be considered perfectly Turkish, won him a handshake from his friend Kerabon. "Uncle," said Ahme, "it is useless to seek this Safar at this time!" "Why, nephew?" "This man is no longer in Poti," Ahme added. "When we reached Poti he had just boarded a steamer sailing along the coast of Asia Minor." "The shores of Asia Minor!" Kerabon shouted. "But isn't our journey also along this coast?" "Exactly, Uncle!" "Very well!" said Kerabong, "if I meet this shameful Safar on the road, woe to him!" After uttering this "Oath of Allah", Lord Kairabang could not say anything more terrible, and he fell silent. But how could they travel now without stagecoaches?Walking on horseback was not to be seriously suggested to Lord Kerabong, whose obesity had always disapproved of riding.If riding a horse made him uncomfortable, the horse suffered more than he did.So better go back to the nearest Chopa village.It was only a few versts, and Kerabon was going on foot—and Bruno too, for he was too tired to ride. "When did you ask him for money?..." he asked, pulling his master aside. "Let's talk at Choppa!" replied Van Mittern. However, seeing the moment when this sensitive issue was getting closer, he felt a little uneasy. After some time the travelers came to the road below the slopes along the Razistan coast. Lord Kerabon turned for the last time and held out his fist to the Cossacks who had so unceremoniously let him go!Once boarded a carriage of the train.At the bend in the coast he lost sight of the boundaries of the Moscow Empire.