THE RED RUGS OF TARSUS
the bending of the neck to the yoke when there is no other way, the living along normally un- der the shadow of a constant and justified fear of death and worse?
What saved the Tarsians the other night? Any dread of international complications? Any respect for our Government? What do the Kurds know about us? Nothing. Last summer when we were camping far up in the Taurus mountains above the timber-line, a fel- low of the type who has been doing the dirty work for the party in power at Stambul, came along to talk with us. We had chopped down a scrub pine-tree to build a fire and were sit- ting around the fire after supper. We were eating walnuts. I offered him some. With them I gave salt. He took both walnuts and salt, touched them to his forehead by way of thanks, and began to eat. Socrates expressed satisfaction that the man had done this said we could be surer now that he would not turn fierce dogs loose the next day, when we broke [153]
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