Ahmet Sena was sitting on his prayer rug on the terrace of his twin-roomed house surrounded with picket fence. He was looking at the hill facing the house.  The house  actually didn’t belong to him.  It was one of the three houses built by the Basti family to accommodate the visitors. Bastiko Bram had allowed Ahmet to stay there on his arrival at the village, Çığızaç. He has been staying  there for two years now, as a standing guest of the Bastis.  He liked them. The Bastis, too, took him as a member of the household.  

            He had just returned to the house after having offered the noon prayer at the village mosque. It was the harvest time; there were a few  Muslims in Çığızaç; and there were yet very few coverts at the village. Therefore, on that day there were no one else at the  mosque except Imam  Kobli, the aged Hana? and Ahmet Sena.  

            After the prayer he had thought of walking down the creek; but abruptly changed his mind and turned back towards his house as he became aware that Hana? followed him. Hana? was a babbler. He talked non-stop, asked questions, but switched to another subject before his question being answered. Hana?, otherwise, was a pleasant  old man, and Ahmet Sena  liked him. When in good mood, he talked sense, listened, laughed; but on occasions could be intolerable. He frequently visited Ahmet at his house.  

            Ahmet Sena was sitting on the prayer rug, telling his beads, his back resting against the wall. He enjoyed to be at the small terrace of his house over-looking the field, and the hills beyond.  Usually he would sit there for hours, with the beads in his hand, either reciting prayers or recollecting his own past, and  pondering about the future. What had brought him to Çığızaç? What he was going to do?  He wasn’t sure.  He felt  sort of  apprehesion  deep in heart. It always occurred to him that something was amiss.  It so happened that certain incidents, not of his own doing; certain accidental developments; determined  the course of his life. Continually others towed him.  

            He was born in a small isolated village in the Ottoman Empire. He could  not recollect it at all. He didn’t remember what village it was. They took him  to Istanbul and entrusted him to a rich household there  when he was  barely five years old. He remembered he received affection from everyone in the family, that he  attended a school in the neighborhood along with the children in  the household, and that they dressed him equably with their own children. As far as he could remember, those had been really good days.  Back from school he served as an errand boy; but yet he had time to play. Those happy days, however, were short lived. The Bey,  master of the household, was assigned by the Imperial Court to a job of considerable importance in Syria, which was then a province of the Ottoman Empire. Before his departure from Istanbul, the Bey placed Ahmet Sena at a boarding school. Thus he was left without a  protector, a foster-father. Until that day he was called Ahmet.  Then he came to be called at the school as Ahmet Sena.  He did not remember how he got his surname “Sena”.  

             For four years he was at the boarding school, which was maintained on charity from the Court and  from the rich. He had learnt reading Qur’an; and was close to be able to read and understand Arabic. He was  a fairly intelligent student. He would have stayed  there longer had he been able to keep  quiet and be respectful to the teachers. However, he grew up as a stout, strong and  quarrelsome adolescent.  On occasions he brawled with fellow students, and was punished with bastinado for breach of  discipline.  His last quarrel was with one of the teachers.  For fear of the consequence he left school. He wasn’t aware  whether they had searched for him.  For several days he wandered in the streets of Istanbul, and  slept in the courtyard of whichever mosque he could get into.  

            Meanwhile he met a fisherman, who would later help him in getting a job as an orderly with an officer of a  military unit to be deployed  in Serbia.  His new boss, was a Battalion Commander. For several years he served as a horse-keeper for him. He learned cooking.  He picked up  quite a bit of  the Serbian language.  

            He accompanied his  master upon his transfer  to Varna, Bulgaria. Aside from demanding a rigid discipline, his master grew increasingly impolite, which he could not tolerate.  

            Ahmet Sena grew up to a  hefty young man, strong enough to do any job he was asked to.  His healthy and muscular physique was conspicuous.  He was certified “fit to be a soldier. His boss hated loosing  his clever steward. So he tried to discourage the idea of his recruitment for military service.  He would  say:  

            --“ Don’t be deceived by his appearance; he is a damn fool.”  

            By then Ahmet Sena became aware that it was no longer possible to remain in the service of that fellow. His recalcitrant spirit once more revolted.  Ahmet Sena sneaked off at a convenient occasion. He had in his pocket a few Kurushes  of his savings. For a few days he wandered in the streets of Varna and finally got  a job  at a butcher’s shop.  

            His new master was a religious minded  sober  person. The butcher and his wife were lonely. They had no children.  Soon he got customized with the couple.  

            Ahmet Sena stayed with the butcher for over two years. He was detailed to deliver a packet of meat at the house of a certain  lady each  Friday morning. She was a widow and was apparently  prosperous. She had a grown up daughter. As time went by, Ahmet Sena fell in love with the girl. He was audacious  enough to disclose the secret to his master, who at the first instance took it  rather aback and impertinent as any other master would do. Soon, however, his benevolent smile dispelled Ahmet’s apprehension. One evening the butcher, along with his wife, visited the widow and asked her daughter for marriage with his assistant.  As she stammered indicating indecision, the couple tried to assure her that they looked upon Ahmet as their own son.  As a matter of fact the widow appreciated Ahmet Sena as a dependable and respectful young man. The mother of the bride-to-be, following conventional demonstration of coyness, accepted the proposal.  

            Ahmet’s  wedding ceremony was modest one. He moved to his mother- in-law’s house. He could no longer remain a butcher’s help.  His mother-in-law lent him enough cash to buy  an equal partnership in the butcher’s business  

            Ahmet Sena thus was a family man with a permanent business of his own.  His late father-in-law was a leading member of the Turkish nobility in Varna. Within a short time he made acquaintance with well to do Turkish families there through the help of his mother -in-law, and established valuable connections.  

            In the evenings he would call on friends, and  join in their social gatherings.  Soon he found himself amidst people, who talked about business, religion, politics and current world affairs.  His world outlook was changing. He corrected his earlier ideas in the light of  what he had learnt by being in the circle of enlightened friends. In relation to  the people around, however, his ignorance  and naiveté was still quite apparent.  He was conscious of his shortcoming.  He was keen to join discussions in friendly circles.  So he allotted  more time to reading and tried self-education.  

            In the third year of  his marriage, his mother-in-law died. He lamented  more than her own daughter did over the loss of  the benevolent lady. He always  remembered her with gratitude; for it was she that had change the course of his life to the better.  

            As time went by, and  the sad event was  overshadowed, Ahmet and his young wife resumed their normal happy life, recalling her mother with reverence on occasions.  

            From then onwards every thing was all right with the couple;  except that they had no child yet. Each of them passionately desired to have one; but  tried to avoided bring up the subject. In the eighth year of their marriage Sena’s wife became pregnant. He was so happy and excited that the nine months full of expectations and wishful thinking  passed  so quickly.  As he was climbing  to the zenith of satisfaction, he fell to the very depth of misfortune: His beloved wife breathed her last  breath under the pang of child birth. The baby was lost too.  Extremely agonized as he was, he thought the end of the world had come upon him.  

            For days he shut himself up in the house. He didn’t recover even after the usual and reasonable mourning period was over. He wouldn’t visit his business partner nor would he call on friends. And some times when he was  out of the house he would look around with blank eyes.  

            His business partner was a nice and honest fellow. He carried on the business by himself and  didn’t mind briefing  Ahmet each weekend, despite his seniority by age.  

            Ahmet  Sena also had  a number of  non-Muslim  friends. They too were sorry for him.  For one, Mr.David, a furrier, was a good friend; though sometimes hot tempered. Once he forced him into his own shop for a chat, when he said reprovingly: “ O my dear Ahmet Sena Efendi! For God’s sake, why should you torture yourself like that? Every one of us must die one  , anyway!”  

           Mr. David had business associates in far away lands. He used to import goods from Poland, Crimea, Russia and  Sweden. He marketed the goods in Istanbul and in other Mediterranean countries. He had a flourishing business.  He persuaded Ahmet Sena to join with him in fur business.  

            Ahmet Sena welcomed the idea. He would travel to distant countries, would make new friends, and would get out of the vexatious atmosphere. Nothing could be better, he thought.  

            Mr. David secured an official affidavit for Ahmet Sena attesting his status as a bona fide furrier, and sent him to Poland, accompanied by an experienced aid. The trip helped him a lot to recover.  Then followed other trips to Crimea and Italy with bales of fur to be sold. Placing all his own wealth at Mr. David’s custody, Ahmet Sena choose to serve as a zealous trade agent for Mr.David. In due course of time he came to be a more adapt and sociable person. He developed proficiency in a queer traders’ language, a compound of the languages spoken in  Eastern Europe. Although he was not fully conversant in any of those languages except the Serbian, but yet  he could conveniently  engage in business conversation.  

            His interests and awareness was not limited  to his business.  When at leisure in his hotel room, he would ponder over the developments in the neighboring countries, and  about the  understanding of the people there concerning  the Ottoman Empire. He realized that  the people in Europe, both the statesmen and the commoners, did not  have benign ideas concerning the Ottoman Empire. The friendships he had developed over the years now  seemed to him  fake and hypocritical.  

            Ahmet Sena went on with his business, though rather disillusioned. One day he disclosed his regret to Mr. David.  “Mr. Sena,  take it easy,” he consoled him; and continued: “ We businessmen do not have a nationality; money is our identity. Go on with your job! keep going !....”  Mr. David was smirking as he uttered these words.  

            Ahmet initially felt annoyed with Mr.David. His annoyance later developed into discord. He was increasingly aware that Mr.David, the Jewish businessman, using him as a surrogate fur merchant  in the European sector of the Ottoman empire, had been earning fortune; and  organized new partnerships and new enterprises without his knowledge. The new partners of the furrier came from the Jewish community in Varna and Istanbul.  

            Ahmet Sana was tired.  The more  he became aware  of  the dirty tricks of Mr.David, the more he regretted for having worn himself out seeking a purpose so ignominious and undeserved. He was  frustrated. He was at the verge of destroying every thing all at once..  

            For days he meditated morbidly, unable to grasp what to do. Finally he did arrive at a decision.  He set out for  his last journey never to return, with a handsome lot of cash from the partnership, though less then the amount of his own share. Mr. David anticipated the return of his loyal “protégé” for  years. He inquired about Ahmet Sena from travelers arriving from far away places. He would ask with a quivering voice: “Could you have possibly seen my dear Ahmet Sena anywhere?”  

            Ahmet Sena, in the meantime, had settled down in Bahçesaray in Crimea where he happened to have a number of friends.  With the help of those friends he set up a small business and a modest life. He was contended with the meager means at his disposal; and  spent whatever  extra time he had in rituals and prayer. As time went by, his circle of friends widened.  He would convey them, in a sagacious manner, whatever knowledge he had acquired. He talked more on spiritual subjects, which increasingly earned him the peoples’ esteem. He would not, however, talk about his own past. That made the people around him  rather skeptic. Whenever appropriate, though seldom, he would touch upon political issue too.  He warned that Russia could pose a serious threat in the near future. Being familiar with the situation in the states neighboring the Ottoman empire in the north and the west, he could assess the growing danger more precisely.  His friends, however, were not  as much farsighted  to appreciate his forecast. They would brag about the glory of the Khante of Crimea in the past and would contend that the Russian threat could be frustrated at any time.  They would mock at what Ahmet Sena told them. He would change the subject without  letting them  sense his annoyance. He narrated in several installments his exploits in association with Mr.David; but pretended as if it was some body else’s story.  He refered to the hero of the venture (actually himself) in the third person, as “the Jew’s partner”. They would follow the story with a keen interest and would implore him to go on  narrating “the adventures of the Jew’s partner”.  

            He didn’t have a particular purpose in mind in settling down in Crimea. What he was after was peace of mind.  And that he found there in abundance.  He had  enough of  rest and recreation there.  The life in Crimea began to appear to him monotonous and boring . He had no plans for the future either. So he felt void in side him. Life in Crimea, exterior of Bahçesary, was rural. The Tatars maintained their age old traditions.  Most of them still craved for  a nomadic life style.  Ahmet Sena estimated that their way of life would soon collapse under the pressure of the developing world.  According to him the future of the Crimean people was gloomy. Very few of his acquaintances cared to  listen to him; and few of them were aware of the world situation. The Crimeans generally were propertied and comfort addicted people.  

            While in Crimea, Ahmet Sena wasn’t interested in the ruling class, the Khans and the Khanzades; had been  always shy  being introduced to any body connected with the government. He  had chosen  a  dervish  like  life style. One bright, cool summer morning  he met  a person  who would help him to catch new horizons. Ahmet Sena  believed in early to bed and early to rise....   As usual he was out  of bed  early that morning and  went to the mosque for his morning prayer.  He should have returned to his bed room and stayed there until sunrise, by which  time his helper would have opened the shop. But on that particular morning he straight went to his shop and opened it himself without waiting for the lad to turn up.  As he entered  into the dimly lighted shop he felt rather depressed.  He stepped back, watched the deserted street for a while, pushed up the wooden window blinds, entered the shop again, and then seated himself at the usual place. Holding the ring of prayer beads between his fingers he sat idle for quite some time, as if his mind had stopped functioning. He wouldn’t notice the growing activity on the street.  

            As his young attendant turned up, he got up to move in to his office partition.  At that moment he sighted Batu, a close friend of him, at the entrance.  With him there was a stranger.  His dress suggested Ahmet Sena that the stranger could be a Caucasian. After exchanging the usual salutation, Batu introduced the stranger.. He was Bastiko Bram.  

            Bram spoke  very well in Crimean Turkish.  As Ahmet Sena, who  had met several Caucasians speaking Turkish but not that good, inquired if  Bram was a resident of Crimea. In response Bram briefly informed Ahmet of his connection with Crimea.:  

             Bram’s father, Basti Dadu , was the P’ur¹  to a son of  a certain Mirza from  the Mansur clan, one of the five leading tribal entities of Crimea. In return Bram was left in Crimea as a foster son to the Mirza. The Crimean stayed for three years with the Basti family in the şapsığ pastures in the  valley of  Psifabe, in Caucasia. He was brought up as a fine rigorous rider. Basti Bram too had a good time in Crimea, was acclimatized with local  customs  and traditions and had learnt Crimean Turkish. Bram maintained contact with his Crimean foster father ever since he returned home; frequently visited the country for commercial purposes.  Batu was a close friend of Basti Bram, the salt trader.  

            Bram remained in Crimea for about two weeks more after being introduced to Ahmet Sena, during which period he visited him almost each day.  

            Bram  highly appreciated Ahmet  Sena, who fascinated him talking about a world unknown to him. He was presented with a different picture of Islam and the Islamic World by Ahmet Sena.  To him he looked as  an unusual person.  

            Once  it so happened that Ahmet was alone when Bram visited him at the shop.  He asked him if he could consider visiting  the Caucasus. “ We don’t have a city as large as Bahçesaray over there. We people lead a modest country life. All the same, our mountains and valleys are beautiful; I am sure you would like Casucasia.”, Bram pressed.  

            Ahmet Sena didn’t expect such an offer; was caught unawares. He had heard a lot about the Caucasians and the Caucasus; but had never thought of going there. Strangely enough it pleased him listening to Bram talking about the Caucasus.  He felt as if he was relived of his  recent depressive condition.  

            His youth had been full of adventures.  He had been continually on business trips for years.  A monotonous life confined to a small shop in Crimea had grown depressive to him. May be that he subconsciously sought a pretext to move out.  

            Ahmet Sena couldn’t sleep that night trying to make up his mind. The next day he informed Bram that he would go to Caucasia.  

            This is the story of how Ahmet Sana had turned up in Caucasia.  

            He has been in the Çığızaç village  for the last two years as a guest of the Bastis. He was up there to discover the secrets of a different world, where transactions were made on barter basis, cash seldom being used. He took interest in the chivalrous tribal people  divided into independent clans and families, who were ruled by traditional order. He grew fond of them.  He was delighted being among  this cheerful, dauntless and  sanguine people; though furious at times.  

            It was against this background that Ahmet Sena  was sitting at the terrace of  his residence enjoying a Caucasian afternoon, trying  to recollect his past. He was thinking of his own past in Istanbul, in the Balkans and in Crimea; skipping the details, he was reconstructing the events that were deeply engraved on his memory; for his past was the only wealth he possessed.  

                                                       O0O  

            The Basti family, who hosted  Ahmet Sena, belonged to the şapsığ tribe.  They dwelt in the village of Çığızaç, on the bank of  the Psifabe Stream, a tributary of the River Kuban. It was situated on a natural terrace about 5 or 6 kilometers to the east. The pasture and the fields touched the bank of the stream. On the south and the east the village was bordered with thick forests. Çığızaç was a prosperous village.  

            The territory of the şapsığ tribe run parallel with the Psifabe stream in east-to-west direction , in an oval form.  It was bordered in the south by territories of  the Abzah and the Ubih tribes on the skirts of the Caucasus; in  the west on the coast of the Black Sea, by the Natuhay and Hatkoy tribes; and to the east by the territories of the Eastern-Hatkoy, the Kemguy, the Meho? and other tribal peoples. Further to the east there lived the Keberteys. In  the north, along the right and the left banks of the River Kuban there extended the territory of the Principal Bjeduğ tribe. The Bjeduğs occupied a wide chunk of territory  in the northern basin of the Kuban, extending into the former Kipçak²  Steppes. And finally, to the west of the Bjedug territory, there lived the Jane tribe.  The Tatars, the Nogays and certain  other elements together formed  the  nomadic groups existing in a state of flux deep inside the steppes to the north of  the territories of the Janes and the Bjedugs.  

            The şapsığs constituted a major tribe; but yet did not have a definite administrative center or a focus of authority. It was, however, administered democratically. The matters of concern to the tribe as a whole were taken up at an ad hoc assembly, which  they called “Aksakallar Majlisi”(meaning the Council of  Elders.) Its members were elected by village residents from among their own elders. The one most strong in common-sense and in oratory was elected to chair the assembly. There was no fixed tenure of the membership of the assembly. Membership  could change hand if and when deemed necessary by the electorates concerned. In the event of hostility, designation of a provisional commander-in-chief, was a prerogative of the assembly.  

            In the Psifabe Valley, where the Bastis belonged to, there were fifteen villages, seven on the right side of the stream, and eight on the left.  

            The inhabitants of the Psifabe Valley were once united. They equally shared the common prosperity. They were a lively and cheerful people. There used to be authoritative personalities in the Council of  Elders, who helped them stick together.  For the last thirty years, however, things have changed; fear and distress overshadowed  their happiness. Discord developed between the people on either side of the stream; they turned into two opposite camps. The two groups, though  met  when necessary; the usual  big festivities with participation of the entire Valley, horse games and group hunting were abandoned. The incident responsible for the rift had occurred three decades ago. It just happened unexpectedly on a very fine bright day; as if  an evil spirit  had envied this joyful people. In the  spur of  a moment  the composure of the masses and their attachment to common values were destroyed.  

            The Bastis of the Çığızaç village and the Nathos of the Psikuy village were the main  victims of the inauspicious incident. These families, being directly involved in the dispute, had suffered the most.  

             As pointed out earlier, the Çığızaç village, where the Bastis lived, was located on the right side of the Psifabe Valley;  while Psikuy, where the Natho’s lived,  was on the left side. The residents of  the villages  on either side  of the stream had taken side in the dispute under an inexplicable impulse. Though not quite outspoken, the attitude they had adopted sufficiently manifested their position.  

            The Basti-Natho dispute was there when Ahmet Sena arrived in the Psifabe Valley.