Late in the spring of 1878 the European sector of the Ottoman Empire, including  roads, railways and ports were controlled by the Russian forces. Under the circumstances, therefore, the government experienced difficulty in the management of the crisis.  The authorities were not potent enough to enforce law and order, or implement the government directives.

            The Refugees Relief and Rehabilitation Commission, supposed to provide food and shelter for the refugees, lacked the required resources.  It was dwarfed by the magnitude by the problem.

            The area which had directly suffered the ravages of the war, was to the north of the Balkan Mountains.  Nonetheless, the areas to the south also had seriously suffered due to the exodus.  Diseases and death were rampant on the rout of the refugee convoys.  Istanbul, Edirne and the adjoining centers of population were in filth.  For want of sanitation and other preventive measures, epidemic diseases were widespread.

            The Ottoman Government appealed the western powers, particularly Great Britain to support the relief work for the refugees. In response, international relief committees came into being.

            The government and foreign relief agencies both agreed on the need to deflect the refugees away from population centers.  They had to be dispersed as soon as possible to prevent excessive concentration.

            Britain reactivated the “Caucasia Relief Committees”, which had been sponsored long time ago by David Urquhart.  The Committees were primarily involved in transporting the Circassian  refugees to safer places. But where exactly, no body knew.  Most importantly, no one cared to find out where the Circassians would want to go.

            Vessels of various nationalities were Commissioned to pick up  the refugees from the shores of  the Aegean and the Mamara, and to take them either to the harbors on the coasts Anatolia or to those on the shores of the Marmara Sea.

            The vessels navigating on the high sea, disembarked their passengers according to the whim of the captain of the individual ship.  Some landed at Rhodes or Cyprus, while  some were dropped in Libya.  The major part, however, were landed on the shores of Syria and Palestine.

            Most of the Circassian refugees, who hoped to be rehabilitated in green valleys, found themselves in desert areas.Without exception, all the refugee groups boarded the vessels for destinations unspecified in advance, faced difficulties worst than those they had met while traveling on land.  They parished in alarming numbers due to starvation and diseases.

                S.S, Sphinx, a steamer of the Australian Maritime Lines, which had embarked from the port of Kavala with three thousand Circassian refugees on board to be delivered at a  Syrian port,  was grounded on the rocks offshore  the Cyprus Island.  The ship caught fire in the meantime.  Only five hundred of the passengers survived the tragedy.

                The middle aged generation of the Circassians were thus   experiencing the worst sufferings in their life time. They had resolutely fought to defend their homeland against the Russian aggression; had been thrown out of their homeland upon being defeated; and today, together with the younger generation, they were still plying on the course of the awful events that had started at the time of their fathers, and may be earlier.

                Generally speaking, the persistent misery, starvation and other adversities had rendered the Circassian refugee nervous and recalcitrant.  Lack of confidence towards others, that is, the ever present sense of insecurity, had become  part of  his nature.  He never parted with his weapon, unless forced to. He defied the authority under the impulse of survival: Killed not to be killed himself; and   when unavoidable, he committed theft in order not to starve.

                His apparent antisocial attitude, as such, earned him an undeserved reputation, which usually visited his destination before his own arrival.  Wherever he went he was treated as an unwanted being.

                That would party the cause of the innumerable difficulties he faced in the process of migration.  He had been shifting from one place to the other for a very long time.  Hence his rehabilitation, his resuming a normal existence took a considerable length of time.

                                                   O0O
 

                Basti Osman and his family, like the rest of the refugees, had to abandon all the heavier bags and baggages in Tekirdağ  before boarding the ship.  They had no chance to cash the vehicle and the horses.  They were allowed to carry only what they could carry personally, without any extra help.

                Osman, as a business man, had saved a certain amount of cash for the rainy day.  He had apportioned it, at Eski Zağra, with Yeftale Hamız, his brother-in-law, at the time of parting with the latter.

                When disembarked at the Bandırma harbor, he felt destitute and lonely, notwithstanding the available cash with him. He had grown up in a prosperous family.  Always there used to be helping hands and associates around him.  Today, however, he was in deed of help.

                His wife, Skurun was sitting by the side of a few pieces of  baggage, which Osman and Idris had just unloaded from the ship. She was pondering, and occasionally murmuring by herself: “O God! What for all these clamities have befallen upon us?”  The anxiety lest they fail to trace out her sisters, tormented Skurun more than the family’s own plight.

                All along the way, in Edirne, Tekirdağ and Çorlu they had inquired  about their relatives.  No one in the distressed crowd  seemed to have met them.

                Several thousand refugees had been landed at the Bandirma Harbor.  The early arrivals had proved the nightmare of the Christian population.  The Circassians belonged to the horse culture.  So they were unable to do without the animal.  The first wave of the Circassian refugees in the Bandırma area seized and herded away all the horses in the neighborhood to their own camps.

                The County Officer and the local Gendarme Commander  had taken punitive action, and had cordoned off  the Circassian camps.  The tension persisted when the Basti family arrived in the area.

                The authorities had been hard-pressed in organizing the transfer of the refugees to the hinterland.

                Osman, leaving Basti Föye and Idris with his wife,  set out to visit the Circassian camps in the neighborhood;  his object being to locate the relatives and friends.

                He ordered Pşılı Hakul to proceed to the west, and   himself proceeded to the east.

                He wandered among the refugee groups for some time; then entered the town.  While he inquired about his relatives, he also tried find out if there were any group he could merge with, if and when necessary.

                At a  point at a fair distance he noticed a person he thought very much resemble Havuduko Bislan.  There were a few other persons with the man.  He was highly excited by the sight.  He thought his heart would stop beating.

                Osman came closer to the man.  Indeed it was Havuduko.  And the one next to him, his back turned towards Osman, was Sinan Naur.

                Osman had been worn out in the past one month.  His red beard had grayed.  His dilapidated condition was pitiable.

                Havuduko Bislan also, in the meantime, had noticed Osman; but at the first sight he was doubtful.  He tapped at the arm of Sinan Naur and asked him whether the man opposit could be  Basti Osman. Naur was not the type to be deceived by slight differences.  He recognized Osman at the first glance.  He rushed and embraced Osman, without saying “yes” or “no” . He exclaimed:

                -  You wouldn’t be able to guess how much we have been haunted by our inability to find you!  We were afraid we had lost you for good.

                Havuduko was still gazing at Osman, bemused.  Once an undaunted warrior, Havuduko seemed defeated and resigned to his fate. For a while he was dumbfound.

                Havuduko at last stammered, “So it is you! Thanks to the God Who made it possible for us to meet again!”

                The group assembled there were the leading persons from the villages of Havudukohabl and Sinanhabl in the Yantra Valley.  They also expressed their pleasure over having met Osman again.

                Naur, reflecting his anxiety on his face, inquired about Suret:

            -  How about our sweat daughter? is she all right?

            Osman replied in a sorrowful tone,

            -  She exists no more!

            Havuduko and others were dumbfounded.  Then offered their condolence, and expressed deep regret.

            Basti was still mournful   deep at heart.  The life continued, however.  Like everyone else he too had to consider about the day and the future.

            He cast a bemused gaze at Havuduko and then at Nuar, and asked, “Were are people?”

            Havuduko looked down,  and hit at the border stone of the footpath with his right foot a few times, to express despise of  his own fortune.  He replied,

            -  We were about to board a British ship all together.  First a number of other families and then your relatives boarded the vessel.  When it came to us to board, crew said it was full.  They assured us that there was no need to worry about; because  the next ship  would be taking us to the same destination.

            Havuduku swallowed, indicating he could not continue to narrate the story.  Naur  picked it up:

            -  When we arrived here, we couldn’t find them.  For twenty days we have been foot dragging over here hoping to trace them out.

            He paused and continued,

            -  Hahurat and five families from Bastihabl are camping with us, on the open space to the south of the town.  The officials of the town have provided us with some food supply.

            Naur had hoped that his last word would please Osman.

            “I wonder where Hamız and others could have gone?”, Basti Osman murmured, gazing at Havuduko.

            Neither Havuduko nor anyone else in the group had any information to offer a clue to the puzzle.  They painfully replied in the negative.

            Osman’s anxiety escalated by hour. It took the form of fright.  He replied his own question:

            -  I am told that some of the ships bearing refugees have sailed to the Arab lands, and there are yet some more to depart to the same destinations.   Suppose our relatives had boarded one of those ships ....

            He could not complete his sentence.  Momentarily he visualized his wife.  He thought what would become of her when she learns that her elder brother and sisters had gone to unknown destinations.  He implored:

            - Please don’t tell anything to my people.  Tell them that our relatives had gone to Istanbul.  Tell them they would be crossing the sea there.  Be it a lie, let us say things that would soothe her for the time being!

            They all went to the harbor together.

            Pşılı Hakul was back.  He had seen no familiar faces.  The two Basti young men were absorbed listening to Hakul.

            They were so absorbed that they could not detect Osman’s return, before he came very close.

            Skurun released a sharp scream at the sight of Havuduko and Sinan.  “For God’s sake, tell me where have been?” she exclaimed as he slapped her knees.

             She was so delighted that for a moment she didn’t know what to say.  She slowly got up.  She gazed at the thametes in the group one by one, and finally her eyes stuck at her husband.  She questioned him,

           - Where is my brother?

            “Don’t be excited”, Osman said, as he raised both his hands.  He tried to appease her,

            -  They have gone to Istanbul.  We’ll find them all very soon!

            Skurun had witnessed in Çorlu how Harete Harun and Zibe Yusuf were arrested and  sent away to the west together with their relatives.

            Her brother Hamız was a more nervous and demanding person than the two.  He must have done something which  the  officials disapproved.

            That was what occurred to Skurun at that moment.  Her cheerful countenance of a minute earlier disappeared.  She sat down on a baggage, sobbing.  She protested:

            -  You don’t tell me the truth!  You don’t know where they had gone, do you?

            It was impossible to appease Skurun.  Everyone attempted to say something; but she wouldn’t listen.    She was crying  loudly.

            Nearby there were a few women, who had come to Bandırma with her on the same ship.   The eldest one among them approached Skurun.  She gesticulated at the males meaning, “Go away, and have a walk for a little while!”

            Osman and the elders walked to one direction, and the youth to another.  All of them were in a helpless mood.

            The old woman sat by Skurun’s side.  She held Skurun to her own bosom, holding her shoulders.  “I know the fire scorching your heart!” she said.  She continued:

            -  Are you the only one lost her relatives?  Look at   that crowd of people.  All of them are miserable as you are.  But they are trying to put up with the ill fate.

            The old woman talked to Skurun for quite some time.  Occasionally she murmured the melody of an old song.  She recollected the calamities befallen upon the Adiğes.

            It took some time before Skurun calmed down.

            Havuduko suggested, “it would be a good idea to be at the camp before the sunset.”   Everybody picked a piece of the luggage.  Idris held his mother’s arm,  and slowly helped her to walk.  They distanced from the harbor, making their way through the congested crowd.

            By the time they reached the camp it was already sunset.  The females were busy preparing for the evening meal.

            Havuduko Bislan’s wife and their daughter cheerfully welcomed Skurun.  Her sorrow eased through the warm reception they offered her.

            The males had their meal together.  In the meantime  Osman narrated all about the death and the funeral of his daughter.  He told them about how helpful Kasım Ağa had been.  “I shall remember the old man to the end of my life!” Osman concluded.

            He also mentioned about his meeting with Harete Harun and Zibe Yusuf, and stressed how grateful he was for them.

            Meanwhile the children had gathered pieces of firewood and had set up a small bonfire.  The elders sat around the fire, which on and off flared up or dimmed. They discussed what they should or should not do from then on.

            They were at the door steps of a land about which they had little knowledge. Besides;  they had the language problem.  They had consumed the stamina and the means needed to keep moving on in search of a better place to settle down.   In grip with multitude of problems, they were unable to make a rational assessment of the situation, and  to find a viable way of resolving  their problems.

            There were a few among them who presumed that they were free to do anything they wished. They had been encouraged by the absence of any official restrictions imposed on their movement.  Havuduko considered it unnecessary to go any further.  He was in favor of settling down at the nearest green valley they that would come by on their way.  Sinan cursed the Russians and the Bulgars.  “Tit for Tat!  Let us treat the Greeks the same way the Russians and Bulgars treated us!” he suggested.

            Osman was quietly listening.  Finally he could not stand anymore.  He protested:

            - My God! It is all preposterous what you are talking about.  Why don’t you consider  you are strangers in here, allowed to come in as the guests?  There is a Thamete¹  and his men, who rule this land.  You are free to the extent they would allow you.  You wouldn’t be able to settle anywhere without their permission.

            Osman pointed out every piece of land they stepped on could happen to belong to someone, and stressed that they shouldn’t behave irresponsibly as they had done in Bulgaria, and that they had to put up nicely with the Turkish people.

            His logical statement silenced everyone.  There the discussions ended.Havuduko had two grown up sons.  They had pillaged the Church of a Bulgar village on the skirts of the Balkan Mountains.  In Bandırma, they had exchanged with a Greek, person  the   icons and silver candle stands, which  they had brought from the Bulgar church, against  a horse driven carriage.

            The women hanged rugs and felts around the carriage, and turned it in to a little room.  Skurun and others spent the night under this improvised narrow cabin.  The males slept in the open.

             Everyone, be it a female or male; old or young, by now, had been accustomed enough to misrible lefe.

O0O
 
 
 

            During the great migration of 1864-165 majority of the Circassians had come down to eastern Anatolia.  A part of them had moved to the west as far as Bandırma, Manyas and Gönen.  In the course of the last fourteen years they had firmly settled down and had formed villages of their own in the neighborhood of the said population centers.  Most of them by now were conversant in Turkish.

            The earlier immigrants had been excited by the recent waves of migrations.  They came in groups to visit their  newly arrived compatriots, party in search of their missing relatives, and partly to find out if there was any service they could render for the fellow refugees.  More importantly to bridge the communication gape between the refugees and the government authorities.

            Osman was delighted to learn that there were Circassians living in the areas not far from Bandırma.  He was bewildered out of joy, when he met one of them on the second day of his own arrival.

              Mije Hasan, whom Basti Osman met by a sheer accident, was a stout Circassian in his forties.  He earned his living as a sort of  hawker or a peddler.  He was cute, fluent in Turkish language, and was familiar with almost everybody in the neighborhood.

               A ten member deputation,  including  Osman, Havuduko Bislan and Sinan Naur; called on the County Office.   Mije Hasan acted as their guide and interpreter.  Osman, as the spokesman of the group, inquired about the official approach with respect to the Circassian refugees, and requested the Country Officer to show them  the way as to how they should conduct their affairs.

                The Circassians had been involved in various incidents of violation of law and order in Bandırma for the past one year.  The incidents of theft had been in alarming proportions, particularly in the Greek inhabited villages.  The County Officer was interested to see the Circassians move out from the area under his jurisdiction soonest possible.

                He pointed out that there were wide areas in the hinterland, suitable for their settlement.  He praised the Konya Plains in particular.  He stressed that the spring season was nearly over,  that they ought to avail themselves of  sunny days of the summer.  He advised them to set out immediately.

                The deputation were convinced.  They even began indulging in daydreams. They were fascinated so much with the idea that it did not occur to then to find out such vital matters as the distance to be covered, and how they could acquire the plots of land to settle down.

                  Basti Osman had been persuaded, all right.  However, he had some misgivings.  Firstly; how and by what means they were supposed to cover the distance involved.  Fot they had abandoned their horses and carriages beyond  the sea.  More importantly; they ought to be issued an official document to the effect that “ so many refugees, led by so and so, are permitted to go to such and such places for being rehabilitated.”

                The County Officer was surprised at Osman’s statement.  He gazed at the Police Officer standing to his right side.  There had been ones among the refugees, who had requested for food and means of transport.  But so far no one had come up to him to ask for a written document.

                The County Officer gathered himself, following a brief hesitation.  “You start with your preparations for oward journey.   In the meantime I will try to provide you with whatever necessary”, he said in response to Osman.

                A Commission, composed of the relevant government officials and well-to-do persons in the area, had been formed to look after the refugees.  Nevertheless, the Commission had not so far been involved in any significant business.

                Upon the repeated representations of the County Officer of Bandırma,  The Governor of Balikesir came to Badirma, and took over the matter.

                The Commission held a meeting; determined what were needed to be done; and agreed on a division of labor among the members.

                The Governor inspected the refugee camps, had talks with the group leaders,  lent them his advice, and politely admonished them.

                - You are in a Muslim State.  You ought to adopt a correct Islamic way of life.  Indulging in robbery and  wracking the established order  would earn you no advantage.  Should you persist committing the vice, you would be persecuted, and despised!

                The meeting was held in the open air,  and thousands gathered around the Governor and his entourage.  The crowds were sad and exhausted.Osman, with Mije by his side, stepped forward a few paces. he said,

             -  Thamete!²   We are not thieves at all!  Our unruliness stems from the adversities we have been and are engulfed in.  We covet no one’s property and chastity.  Our tradition also prohibits it

                Osman had a smattering of the Turkish language.  Yet he had sought Mıje’s service to interpret for him so as to convey his ideas more accurately.

                Basti was in no haste.  He spoke  making pauses.  He continued:

            -  Our fathers have been fighting the Russians for over a hundred years.  Several generations in sequence have perished in the war.  In the process, they had been not only defending their own homeland; but also at the same time they had been shielding  the domain of the Sultan against enemy incursions.

            Osman bent his head and pondered, while Mıje Hasan was interpreting his words.  He was trying to find appropriate words that would impress the Governor.  He said:

              -  When the war was lost, we were banished from our homeland.  We are grateful to the Sultan, the Caliph of Islam, because he granted us asylum in his domain.

                Osman paused, and continued.

            -  We had settled down in the Province of Danube.  Subsequent to two Bulgar Rebellions, there came the Russian invasion of the area.  We shared with the Turks, the burden and the devastation of the recent war.

                Osman slightly turned to his right.  He pointed at the destitute refugees.  “Look at them please!  They are the remnants of the war, survived being sworded.  They had been forced to abandon their abodes twice in fifteen years;  leaving behind their properties and warm houses.  You shouldn’t expect the destitute victims of such an arduous life to behave as a normal person would!

                The Governor nodded his head, meaning, “Your are right!”  He was impressed by Osman’s statement.  He promised him to do all what he could to help them.

                The Governor kept his promise.  He activated the Refugees Commission.  He procured hundreds of carriages from the neighborhood.  He distributed the vehicles, the draft animals inclusive,  at rate of one carriage to be shared by five families. The refugees,  organized in groups of one-hundred-and-fifty to two hundred families, were dispatched to the hinterland, with adequate supply of food stuff.  Osman, with the help of Mıje Hasan, purchased a horse driven carriage.  The refugees from the Yantra Basin, including the Basti family, formed a convoy of two-hundred-and -fifty families.  They set out some time in the middle of June, 1978.

                The Governor had handed a document to each of the groups. Bastiko Osman, Havuduko Bislan and Sinan Naur had been given a travel document to the effect that they were permitted, on request, to go to Konya.

                  The three leaders had acquired a horse each.  They drove in the forefront of the convoy.  In a way they surveyed the area as the convoy proceeded.  At major population centers they asked the authorities as to how they could proceed to Konya.

                The baggages, the aged, and the women were carried on the vehicles, while the youth walked.  The children assumed the expedition as a sort of play.  The run after the carriages, laughed and played. On the second and the third days, however, they were tired.  They began to complain, and cry.

                Osman had formed a  guards’ unit of fifty men to ensure the security of the convoy, and to maintain order at the campaigns.

                They stayed in Bursa for five days.

                There Osman held a meeting of the heads of the families.    He proposed each family should contribute towards the common expenses.  Some paid their share in cash and some in kind.  With the funds so raised, they bought food stuff and a few horse driven carriages.

                Basti and his friends called on the Governor of Bursa.  He informed the Governor that they had been traveling under difficult conditions, and that on the way between Bandırma and Bursa about ten persons had died of diseases or old age.

                The Governor mobilized the Government resources at his disposal, and appealed the wealthy citizens to help the refugees.

                Not only the nobility, but also all the kind people of Bursa rushed to the assistance of the refugees with gifts of  food and   clothing.

                Unfortunately there occurred a couple of undesirable incidents amidst all the manifestations of  fellow-feeling. The loafers of the city attempted to harass the women and the girls.  The Adiğe youth could not stand it.  There followed a fierce quarrel, during which fire-arms were also used.

              The elder son of Havuduko murdered one of the loafers, and wounded three of them; and himself vanished on the back of his father’s horse.  The Gendarme performed a day long investigation.
Adding insult to injury, some of the local aristocratic families approached the refugees for infants and children to be adopted.  They emphasized that they would prefer girls.

                Osman was incensed and troubled.  He saw to it that the convoy immediately hit the road under the leadership of Havuduko Bislan, whom he asked to camp at a reasonable distance, so that the party staying back could catch up.

                The Gendarme had apprehended about ten young Circassian suspects, including Pşılı Hakul.   in connection with the bloody quarrel.

                Osman, Hahurat and Sinan Naur called on the Governor.  He stated that the refugees were not responsible for the incident, and requested that their boys may be released.

                The Governor was somewhat offended and angry.  He said,

             -  It is a murder case.  The culprit must be found at any cost.  Bring him to me, and I’ll release the rest!

                Osman painfully smiled.  “I don’t know how to find him?” he said and bowed his head.  Then he gravely went on, carefully selecting his words:

            -  Havuduku Ahmet is like a savage wolf.  God alone knows at which mountain peak or the lonleistcorner of a forest he is!  I don’t think he will ever return to his family either.

            The Governor had been fully briefed on the incident.  He was convinced that the refugees were not at fault.  He meant to admonish the Circassians against recurrence of a similar situation.  He order the release of the Circassian youth the next day.  The Gendarme escorted them to the city limits as a preventive measure against a new incident.

            Osman reprimanded the boys, Hakul to start with, severely.  They boys kept quiet, in repentance.

            At the first camping station they joined the main convoy.  Here Osman felt the urge to warn everybody, including the elders.  He pointed out that a clash with the local people could cause irreparable damage to the whole community.

            Havuduko Bislan had selected  a wood on the skirts of Uludağ,  near Inegöl, to camp.  Basti gathered the males under a huge plain tree.  The elders were sitting, while the youth were standing.

            Osman made a long speech.  He stressed that the convoy included women and children, a fact which required to be always  borne in mind.

            In conclusion, Osman implored:

            -  For the sake of God, please be patient!  We do not have yet a piece of land to settle on, or a hut to shelter in.  Let us behave mindful of the poor condition we are in at the present.  Let us make friends, not enemies!

               They moved on for days along the Bozüyük-Eskişehir road.  To them Konya appeared like a mirage, an object never to be attained.

                Skurun was calm.  She had resigned to her fate.  But yet she anticipated a miracle.  Each turn, and each green plain made her hear jump.  Her hope revived at the sight of clusters of the mud made dwellings of Central Anatolia.  She assumed that her brother and her sisters would turn up out of the blue.

                Sinan Naur was taken ill.  Somewhere near Akşehir he declared that he wouldn’t be able to go any further.  Eighty families stayed the with him.

                Osman wanted to see the Konya Plains, which the County Officer of Bandırma had engraved in his mind.  He proceeded forward, together with Havuduko Bislan.

                By the time they reached Ilgın, they had lost the stamina to move a step forward.  The environment appeared tempting.

                Havuduko Ahmet had been following the convoy from a safe distance, and had rejoined the convoy near Eskişehir.

                Osman was justified to liken him to a savage wolf.  Even at the final stage of the journey he had avoided being sighted by his father.

                The convoy camped in the out skirts of Ilğın.  Ahmet and a few friends of him went up towards the Suphan Mountains to the west.  They returned in the evening with a news that delighted everyone.

                Hoping to be pardoned, Ahmet appeared that evening before his father and the other elders.  He narrated what he had sighted.  Ahmet’s  friends verified his statement.

                According to the narration, Ahmet and his friends had discovered a green valley.  The slopes and the skirts of the mountain, on the other side, were completely covered with forests.  The valley was fed by a stream.  There seemed no one to claim the area.

                Havuduko Bislan was staring at his son through the underneath  of his thick eyebrow. He was angry and proud at the same time.  Ahmet reminded him of his own crazy youthful days. Recollecting the past, particularly his own conduct while in Bulgaria, he preferred to keep quiet.

                “We’ll go and see the place tomorrow!” Osman remarked.  Bislan was reticent.

                In the morning of  the next day Havuduko Bislan had overcome his mood of the last evening.  He was the first to saddle his horse and prepare to set out early in the morning.

               The elders  followed the boys.  Ahmet halted at the skirts of the mountain, and pointed at the green valley he had discovered.   Indeed it presented a magnificent view.  From the slope Havuduku Bislan, Hahurat Kentiğej and others watched the forests in fascination.

                Osman was not as optimistic as the others were.  True that the valley was beautiful;  the slopes were covered with forests; and  it promised the possibility of  a quick construction of shelters before the cold; but there seemed to be no land fit for agriculture.  The stream, which run in torrent in the spring,  had washed down pebbles and sand to the downstream level ground, rendering it unproductive.

                Basti reserved his comment.  He did not wish to spoil the joy of his companions.  He approvingly nodded in response to the elders, who proposed settling down there.

                                                     O0O
 

                It was late in July.  The weeds had yellowed, and the crop had matured.  The local people were briskly engaged in harvesting.

                The refugees were so much exhausted that for a number of days they could not move at all.  They watched the laboring villagers from a distance.

                Ilğın was famous for its hot-springs.  It was a very old habitation.  Nevertheless it had the characteristics of a small township.

                The leading residents of the town visited the refugees camp for curiosity sake.

                Among the visitors there was one named Haci Mehmet.  He was a business man, and the most prosperous resident of the town.

                Osman made acquaintance with the Beys of Ilğın.  He presented his associates to them.  He let it be known that they wished to settle down in the valley at the skirts of the mountain.

                Haci Mehmet replied, “Why not!” He had felt pity at the awful  condition of the refugees.

            -  Come to the town.  See me!  I will give you the construction material, flour for bread, wheat seeds and whatever else you need. You may pay me later on!Osman was so pleased at the offer that he leaped forward and held the Hacı’s hand.  “God Bless you!” he implored.

                Hacı Mehmet kept his promise.  The very first evening, in cooperation with his friends, he sent bread and varieties of food items to the refugees camp.

                Osman had not approved the spot Havuduko Ahmet had discovered; because it was not suitable for cultivation.  Now he was having a second thought; for the start was good.  “May be I was wrong,” he murmured by himself.

                There was no need to wait and waste time.  It took them one full day to move to the valley they had chosen for their future habitation.

                The western fringe of the valley was flat and was covered with pine trees.  The availability of construction material so closely and so plentiful, seemed to facilitate their job.  All agreed, without hesitation, to settle down at the valley.

                While the leaders set out to Ilgın, the rest of the community were engages in setting up a temporary camp. The  elders returned with a supply of all essential construction implements and material.

                During the subsequent days a feverish activity went underway. They cut the trees at the base of the valley.  Everyone was engaged in the type of job he or she happened to be adapted to.  There was no lack of accidents, though minor, in the process. Two of the boys were wounded on the leg due  negligence on their own part.

                Osman, assisted by Pşılı Hakul and others, finished building a two-room structure, with a stone fire place and a chimney; earlier than any one else.

                Basti Osman’s house formed a sample for the other families.

                Osman was fond of the aged Hahurat Ketigej, who had no one  other than his wife and one son.  He chose Hahurat to be his next door neighbor, and built a hut for him.

                Hahurat’s son Ishak was a lazy boy.  Osman persistently admonished him to the effect that he should work himself rather than his aged father.

                Thanks to Basti Osman’s precepts and the example set by him that   Ishak changed by time. He developed into a diligent and responsible young man.  He was no more an introvert person as he had been.  He became a bosom friend of Idris, Osman’s only surviving son, and started associating with the other boys.

                The Circassian refugees were thus relieved of their nomadic style of life.  Now they formed a sedentary community of two-hundred families, each with a roofed structure to shelter in.At a distance of about two kilometers to the south of the settlement of the Circassians, there were the ruins of a once Greek township, called “Puhtu”. The inhabitants had quitted the place long times ago.  The buildings had  collapsed.  It  had been abandoned in ruins.

                The local people persisted calling the place as “Puhtu” even after the arrival of the Circassians, and in due course they called the Circassians in the area as the “Puhtu Çerkesler”, meaning the Circassians of the Puhtu township.  The settlement created by the Circassian refugees came to be called, in due course of time,  as “Puhtu”³

                On account of his wife, Osman could not be as much at ease as others were.  She had not reconciled herself with the absence of her brother and sisters.  She had been persistantly wailing.  “They are living on this very land, may be somewhere in the vicinity.  But you don’t take the trouble of looking for them!”, she would accuse Osman.

                Basti tried to be patient.  At times he would become nervous, and would shouted at her in  anger: “Would you tell me when and how could I look for them!”.  He would then lower his tone, and continue:

                -  I too have lost my brother and my nephews.  You have noticed how thousands and thousands of families separated.  It’s by Providence.  We have to put up with it.  There is no way out.

                Notwithstanding the hopeless situation, Osman Occasionally tried  rekindled hope in Skurun, so that she is not gripped by spiritual depression.  “I will be going out to search for them at the first available opportunity!” he would  promise to cheer up his wife.

                Basti Osman indeed kept his promise. When word about the arrival of certain refugee groups at Akşehir reached the town;  accompanied by Pşılı Haku, Osman went round the refugee settlements in Akşehir that autumn.  He couldn’t find a trace of them.

                The Valley, where the Puhtu Village had been set up, extended eastwards, the terrain being very lightly graded.  Osman favored taking measures in advance lest  the virgin land  is not seized by a more crowded and powerful families.  He conveyed his idea to the leading members of the community at a meeting.  His proposal was unanimously approved.

                They collectively reclaimed the area on either side of the stream,  The bushes and the weeds were removed, the ground was leveled and plowed.  It was divided into plots of equal dimensions.  By drawing of lots, the plots were fairly apportioned.

                Each family, subsequently, was engaged in further treating its own plot, depending on the time it could spare.

                Most of the families did not yet own a draft animal of its own.  Mutual assistance among the families was maintained.

                The refugees spent a very arduous winter that year.  Notwithstanding the abundant supply of firewood, the timber dwellings were hard to be kept warm enough.  Many took ill, and several of them died.

                Nevertheless the life went on.  withstanding the prevalent destitution, they organized wedding parties, sportive competitions, and other social functions; and enjoyed  life collectively.

                The old wolves were experienced in wild life.  They organized hunting parties, and explored throughout the mountains and the plains in the area. They hunted games, and familiarized themselves with the environment.

                The problems they faced here during the winter were no different than what they had experienced in Bulgaria during  the first winter. They availed themselves of the experience earned in Bulgaria.

                The advent of the spring season was delightful.  The sunny warm days revived the refugees.  The females collected wild eatable vegetation like mushroom, the males were engaged in farming.  They sowed for the first time the soil they had so painstakingly reclaimed in the autumn.

                The most significant novelty was their contact with the inhabitants of the villages in the neighborhood, in the forms of  courtesy calls and business transactions.  All resulted in creation of friendly bonds.

                As the whether warmed up, Osman made it a habit to visit Ilgın every Friday.  Hacı Mehmet was not slow in assessing the needs of  the Puhtu Village. He helped building a Mosque there.  He then arranged for an Imam to look after their spiritual needs.

                Osman organized a modest celebration on the occasion of the first Friday Prayer at the Puhtu Village Mosque.  Haci Mehmet and the leading residents of the town were invited.

                A sheep was sacrificed on the occasion.  Following the prayer, the invitees were offered a modest lunch comprised of mamirse⁴  and a meat preparation.

                Osman made a brief speech to thank Hacı Mehmet and the rest of the invitees.  He said

             - You cheerfully received us.  You helped us to build a village with a Mosque.  May God bless you all!