Archag The Little Armenian by Charles H. Schnapps

Author:Charles H. Schnapps [Schnapps, Charles H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-09-06T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER X

THE ARMENIAN NATION

On half-holidays the boys were in the habit of going to town, to shop or to visit their friends, and on a certain Saturday, in the month of February, they had all gone off in various groups, and the college was deserted. Garabed and Archag took advantage of the warm spring sunshine to climb one of the hills which rise above the city toward the south. Here, seated on a tombstone—these hills are covered with graves—they ate their frugal luncheon of bread and cheese and olives, and when they had finished, Garabed wiped his oily fingers, and drew from his zouboun a book wrapped in newspaper.

“What have you got there?” asked Archag.

“Djelaleddin!”

Archag clapped his hands:

“Oh, Garabed, how splendid! How did you ever get hold of it? I’ve been nearly wild myself, thinking I could never get a chance to read our great Raffi. 1

“Yes, the book has been forbidden by our Padishah (sultan) on pain of imprisonment for life, and if Dr. Mills were to know that you had read it, he would send you packing this very day. Are you surprised? You see Dr. Mills has had to take oath before the Vali (governor) that he will not disseminate the new ideas among us. Ali Pasha keeps watch, and if he should ever discover that our college was a center of liberalism he would close it the very next day. Now our president knows that, and he is very careful.”

“But how did you manage to get this Raffi?”

“Ghevont lent it to me this morning.”

Garabed turned the pages of the old book affectionately; its leaves were yellow and stained.

“Listen to this passage, where Sarkat, returning from the towns, finds his own village in flames: ‘After a march of several hours he perceived a red light in the distance, becoming alternately brighter and fainter; now shooting up in writhing flames, now motionless, the stream of fire, fed by fresh fuel, spreading farther and farther.’ And this other bit: ‘When,’ thought he, ‘the lamb is obliged to live near the wolf, it must try to make wolf’s teeth of its own, that it may not become the other’s prey.’”

Archag listened eagerly to these words.

“Yes, Sarkat is right,” said he. “Why don’t we defend ourselves? Why don’t we make a struggle for our independence? Look at the Serbians, the Bulgarians, the Greeks; they have been fighting the Turks for years; Europe has been thrilled with joy at the noble deeds of Canaris, and Kolokotronis and Botsaris, 2 and at last sent effective aid to the Hellenes. Let us do the same.”

“But our people are ignorant, and stagnating in servitude; few of them know the use of arms.”

“Then they must be taught, and supplied with arms.”

“Who will do that?”

“We, the young men, who have the strength and the faith for it.”

“Ah, my dear friend! I knew you would say that!” and Garabed grasped his hand warmly.... “You are worthy of becoming one of us. Listen: other men have had your thoughts.

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