Hassan courteously returned his salute. He was now seated cross-legged by the dying fire, sorting nuts from tobacco which had been tied up together in a damp pocket-handkerchief. With the air of a king on his throne he graciously waved his hand towards a slimy saddle-bag: "Buyourun, Effendi, oturun" (Welcome; sit down). The man sat down, carefully drawing his ragged cloak round his patched knees.
"The ladies' salaams to his Excellency; they are very pleased for his inquiry and send many thanks. They have all they require."
The quiet dignity of Hassan's appearance and utterances seemed to dispel any sense of incongruity the visitor might have entertained as to the limitation of our wants and the methods of our Royal progress; he merely thought we were mad.
He departed, no doubt to glean information from the more communicative members of our escort. The cook came in with a pleasing expression.
"What will you have for supper?" he said.
"What can we have?" we answered, with the caution arising from long experience of limited possibilities.
"What you wish," he said, with as much assurance and affability as if he was presenting a huge bill of fare. I knew what one could expect in these places.
"There is not one left here," he answered.
"Eggs, then," I suggested, with the humour of desperation.
"No fowl, how eggs?" he answered with pitying superiority.
"Well, we will have what there is," I said faintly.
"There is nothing," he answered cheerfully.
"Miserable man!" I said, "how dared you begin by holding out hopes of lobster salad and maraschino croûstades?"
Was there nothing left of our stores? I rummaged in the box which held them. Everything was wet and slimy; a few bars of chocolate were soaked in Bovril emanating from a broken bottle; a sticky tin held the remains of pekmez, a native jam made with grape juice; two dirty linen bags contained respectively a little tea and rice; a disgusting looking pasty mess in what had once been a cardboard box aroused my curiosity. Could it be--yes, it had once been, protein flour, "eminently suitable for travellers and tourists, forming a delicious and sustaining meal when no other food is procurable." It had been the parting gift of our respective mothers, along with injunctions to air our clothes. I calmly thought the matter out.