Forty Days of Musa Dagh (113 page)

 

 

How was that? He could find no trace of warped emotion or sensibility in
himself. His mind was as clear as his heart was peaceful. He even felt at
last that a long, dense lethargy had fallen away. Everything in him longed
for final settlement, with a consciousness of power he had never known.

 

 

He left his place overlooking the sea. His body, aware of its own
lightness, bore him in long, active strides up the rough track, no more
than a stamped-out zigzag, between walls of rock, in among crevices,
along water-courses marked with stones and logs to show the way. But the
clarity even of Gabriel's senses was so acute that it was not necessary
to heed either the landmarks or these dangers. He knew that, with so
heightened a consciousness, he could make no false step, fall down
no precipice. His pulse and perceptions worked together. This bit of
the way was a proud settlement of accounts. He could see now why, that
morning, when the miracle thundered from off the sea, he had felt a kind
of disappointment. Here was the reason why he had felt such mysterious
discomfort when the admiral said that they would land the people of Musa
Dagh, and him with them, in Alexandria or Port Said. That discomfort had
in it the germ of this instant's super-resolution. In those first minutes
of general safety he had sensed at once that for him such return to life
would be impossible, merely because the real Bagradian, the Bagradian
come to life in the forty days, would have had to be saved. Saved for
Port Said or Alexandria? For some camp for Armenian refugees? Saved,
to exchange Musa Dagh for a narrower and lower pen-fold. To climb down
from this supremacy of decision, into serfdom, and wait for another
miracle? Why? An old saying of Bedros Altouni came back to him. To be
an Armenian is an impossibility! Quite true! But Gabriel had done with
impossibilities. The one thing possible filled him from top to toe with
incredible certainty. He had shared in the destiny of his blood. He had
led the struggle of his own villagers. But was not the new Gabriel more
than part of a blood-stream? Was he not more than an Armenian? Once he had
thought of himself as "abstract," as an "individual." He had had to pass
through the pen-fold of a commune really to become so. That was it, that
was why he could feel so incredibly free! A cosmic hermitage. The thing
for which, that morning, he had so longed. Now he had found it, as no
other mortal ever had! Every breath was an intoxication of freedom. The
ships departed, and Gabriel stayed on this rocky slope of Musa Dagh,
which rose sheer and empty, as though just created. Only God -- and
Gabriel Bagradian. And Gabriel was, by the grace of God, more real than
all people or any nation.

 

 

Then, at the summit of his pride came a hint of weakness. Women!
Where women are there is guilt in men. Gabriel had returned to that
gentle slope where the stretchers halted to rest, and Iskuhi's eyes spoke
farewells to him. Yet he saw no Iskuhi here, but Juliette, in her stiff
taffeta edged with lace. What would become of her? Gabriel stood for a
while looking out to sea. Those ships sailed so slowly. They had still
not reached the central spaces midway to the high horizon. Perhaps men on
the look-out might see him still if he waved his coat above his head. But
another thought had come into his mind. Juliette would be free, and so
could easily get back her French nationality. Once it was found that he
was missing, the admiral and everyone about her would be kindness itself
to Juliette. This clear reflection increased his liberty still more. Now
he went on more carefully, bending his head a little forwards up the stone
slope, to where the track opened out among trees and bushes. Gabriel had
passed two farther bends in it before his heart stood suddenly still. Was
it possible! Had Iskuhi really hidden somewhere, at the last minute, to
stay behind with him? This seemed for the next few seconds by no means
the work of imagination. He could sense her even. And then Iskuhi's steps
came after him. He could hear the sharp, clear tapping of her heels. Where
shall we be, you and I, sister? She had kept her word. "With you." He did
not look round, but went hurrying on a long way, then stopped. Iskuhi's
light and equal steps came after. They were unmistakable. Clearer and
clearer, a woman's steps coming up the slope. The path rustled with
shifting stones, they went scurrying downwards. Gabriel waited. Iskuhi
must have reached him by now. But her heels still tapped, they were
neither nearer nor farther off. So that at last he guessed that Iskuhi's
footsteps were not outside him, but within. His hand slipped down along
his body, to find his watch. When he pulled it out, it ticked so loudly
as no longer to sound like a woman's footsteps, but the sharp strokes
of a fine hammer on rock. Solitude exaggerated the noise. Or was this
Gabriel's own particular time, rising in intensity with his life?

 

 

He had still the watch in his hand as the shadows cleared for a final
certainty. That sleep of his had been no ordinary sleep. That sleep
had been preordained to assist his weakness, so that his fate might be
fulfilled. Without it he would have sunk back into the world. But for
him God intended otherwise. When had that been? Was it imagination, or
had he really spoken the words: "For some time now, I've known with the
stoniest conviction that God intends to use me in some way." Now he knew
the whole depths of that intention. Now it was no longer merely freedom,
comfort and joy that filled his heart. No, something new, entirely new,
burst into consciousness. The ecstasy of supernatural unity, the ghostly
ray. My life is guided, and therefore safe. With his arms a little apart
he wandered on again, on feet that could not feel they trod. The next
clearing opened among rocks. The sea-line rose higher and higher. The
squadron, in the triangular form of a stork's flight, receded gradually
into distances. But Gabriel had ceased to spy out ships. He looked up
into the afternoon sky; its blue deepened to gold every minute. In this
last ascent the path was already lost.

 

 

He crossed the belt of myrtle and rhododendron bushes. Ought he not to have
thought of the next few hours, the night, a safe place to hide in? Since
what mortal man could hope to go on living as he lived now, once it was dark?
Nothing asked this in him. His feet went along the accustomed ways.
Three-Tent Square. The tents were not only water- but fire-proof and had
battled the flames. Even inside, the fire had not done much to them. The
beds were still standing. Gabriel passed without stopping by Juliette's
tent. He halted at the edge of the Town Enclosure, still undecided.
He wanted to go north, to the main defences, his work. But he took the
opposite direction, towards the howitzer mound. Perhaps he was even a
little curious to see how the marines had spiked these guns. Between the
Town Enclosure and the mound stretched the wide graveyard. In this sparse
earth there had still been room for a hundred graves. Those of the first
days had unhewn limestone blocks or slabs with inscriptions daubed in
black. Only a wooden cross marked off the last of them. Gabriel went to
Stephan. The earth still looked fairly fresh. When was it they'd buried
him? On the thirtieth day, and today was the forty-first. And how long is
it since that day when he took me by surprise, as I lay here asleep? This
time I'm taking him by surprise. And we two have Musa Dagh to ourselves
again. Gabriel did not move from Stephan's grave, though he thought
not only of Stephan but of a hundred incidents in those fights. Nothing
disturbed his tremendous peace. He scarcely noticed there was a sunset.

 

 

Suddenly it was cold and dark. He shook off his thoughts. What was that?
Five ships' sirens on differently entangled notes, threatening, long,
but so far away. Gabriel picked up his overcoat off the ground. They've
found out I'm not on board. They're calling me. Quick, to the Dish Terrace!
Light a fire there! Perhaps -- perhaps. Life raged within him. He took one
step, and started back. They were creeping in on him, in a half-circle.
Were these wild dogs? No eyes gleamed through the dark. Gabriel pretended
not to have noticed, looked up in the air, went back another step and
ducked, behind Stephan's grave. But unexpected shots flashed out from
the side; one, two, three volleys.

 

 

 

 

Gabriel Bagradian was lucky. The second Turkish bullet shattered his
temple. He clung to the wood, tore it down along with him. His son's
cross lay upon his heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

LIST OF CHARACTERS

 

 

Sheikh Achmed -- head of Islamic order called "The Thieves of Hearts."

 

Ali Fuad Bay -- chief of staff, Turkish Fourth Army.

 

Ali Nassif -- Turkish gendarme of Yoghonoluk.

 

Ali Risa Bay -- brigadier-general, Turkish army.

 

Dr. Bedros Altouni -- physician to the seven villages.

 

Antaram Altouni -- "Mairik Antaram," wife of Dr. Altouni.

 

Margoss Arzruni -- silk-weaver, disciple of Oskanian.

 

Asayan -- chorister, disciple of Krikor.

 

Samuel Avakian -- tutor of Stephan Bagradian, and adjutant of Gabriel.

 

Ashod I Bagrathuni -- ancient Armenian king (fl. AD. 885).

 

Avetis Bagradian, the elder -- founder of the family fortune,
grandfather of Gabriel.

 

Avetis Bagradian, the younger -- elder brother of Gabriel.

 

Gabriel Bagradian.

 

Juliette Bagradian -- Gabriel's French wife.

 

Stephan Bagradian -- Gabriel's son.

 

Captain Brisson -- French naval commander.

 

Nazareth Chaush -- mayor of Zeitun.

 

Djelal Bey -- Wali or civil governor of Syria.

 

Djevded Pasha -- commander of the Turkish army against Persia.

 

Enver Pasha -- Turkey's Minister of War and most popular field marshal.

 

Colonel von Frankenstein -- chief of staff, Turkish Fourth Army.

 

Hagop -- a cripple among the boys.

 

Haik -- a leader of the boys and the scout corps.

 

Hoffmann -- German vice-consul in Alexandretta.

 

Hovhannes -- Gabriel Bagradian's cook.

 

Jackson -- American Chief Consul in Aleppo.

 

Jamal Pasha -- general commanding the Army in Syria.

 

Thomas Kebussyan -- mayor of Yoghonoluk.

 

Kevork -- "the sunflower dancer," half-wit refugee from Zeitun.

 

Sarkis Kilikian -- deserter from the Turkish army.

 

Krikor -- apothecary of Yoghonoluk.

 

Kristaphor -- Bagrodian's steward.

 

Dr. Johannes Lepsius -- German pastor in charge of Armenian rescue work.

 

Manushak -- graveyard dweller, spey-wife.

 

Gonzague Maris -- Greek-Amencan visitor to Musa Dagh.

 

Vahan Melikentz -- Armenian serving in inshaat taburi.

 

Missak -- Gabniel's valet and butlet.

 

Prof. Nezimi Bay -- member of the Islamic order, "The Thieves of Hearts."

 

Harutiun Nokhudian -- Protestant pastor of the village of Bitias.

 

Nunik -- graveyard dweller, spey-wife.

 

Chaush Nuxhan -- retired sergeant of Yoghonoluk.

 

Hrand Oskanian -- .dwarf, village schoolmaster.

 

Osman -- head of Jamal Pasha's bodyguard.

 

Agha Rifaat Bereket -- old Turkish friend of Avetis Bagradian
and a religious mystic.

 

Rössler -- German consul-general in Alexandretta.

 

Sato -- refugee orphan from Zeitun.

 

Monsignor Saven -- Armenian Patriarch.

 

Hapeth Shatakhian -- village schoolmaster.

 

Shushik -- a widow, mother of Haik.

 

Talaat Bay -- the Minister of the Interior.

 

Tar Haigasun -- chief priest of the district.

 

Tomasian -- master-carpenter of Yoghonoluk.

 

Aram Tomasian -- his son, pastor in Zeitun.

 

Hovsannah Tomasian -- wife of Pastor Aram.

 

Iskuhi Tomasian -- slster of Pastor Aram.

 

Wartuk -- graveyard dweller, spey-wife.

 

Rev. E. C. Woodley -- head of the American mission In Marash.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GLOSSARY OF ARMENIAN AND TURKISH TERMS

 

 

Agha -- a title of great respect.

 

Aghil -- Turkish sash.

 

Ansariyes -- Armenoid race of Syrian mountaineers whose Mohammedanism

 

is considered suspect.

 

Araba -- a covered cart, a cab.

 

Baksheesh -- a gratuity, a tip.

 

Bashi -- a major.

 

Bedel -- tax paid in lieu of army service.

 

Bedouin -- nomadic desert Arab.

 

Berazik -- a little cake spread with grape syrup.

 

Bey -- a governor of a province; also a title of respect for
military officers.

 

Bimbashi -- a lieutenant-colonel.

 

Burnous -- a cloaklike garment and hood woven in one piece, worn by Arabs.

 

Caliph -- literally the "successor" of Mohammed, the spiritual and temporal
ruler of Islam; the Sultan of Turkey.

 

Catholicos -- head of the Armenian Church.

 

Charshaffe -- the veiled garment of Moslem women.

 

Chetteh -- armed irregulars, hooligans.

 

Chibuk -- a long Turkish smoking-pipe.

 

Dashnakzagan -- Armenian nationalist party, supporters of the Young Turks
prior to the Great War.

 

Direm -- measure of weight equal to 3 grammes.

 

Effendi -- the courtesy title of a gentleman; Turkish equivalent for
Sir or Esquire.

 

Endjumen -- meeting of the Turkish cabinet.

 

Entari -- long outer smock.