[p.133]we should have fought it out at once, for the Arnauts are “terribili colla pistola,” as the Italians say, meaning that upon the least provocation they pull out a horse-pistol, and fire it in the face of friend or foe.  Of course, the only way under these circumstances is to anticipate them; but even this desperate prevention seldom saves a stranger, as whenever there is danger, these men go about in pairs.  I never met with a more reckless brood.  Upon the line of march Albanian troops are not allowed ammunition; for otherwise there would be half a dozen duels a day.  When they quarrel over their cups, it is the fashion for each man to draw a pistol, and to place it against his opponent’s breast.  The weapons being kept accurately clean, seldom miss fire, and if one combatant draw trigger before the other, he would immediately be shot down by the bystanders.[FN#24] In Egypt these men,-who are used as Irregulars, and are often quartered upon the hapless villagers, when unable or unwilling to pay taxes,-were the terror of the population.  On many occasions they have quarrelled with foreigners, and insulted European women.  In Al-Hijaz their recklessness awes even the Badawin.  The townspeople say of them that, “tripe-sellers, and bath-servants, at Stambul, they become Pharaohs (tyrants, ruffians,) in Arabia.”  At Jeddah the Arnauts have amused themselves with firing at the English Consul, Mr. Ogilvie, when he walked upon his terrace.  And this man-shooting appears a favourite sport with them:  at Cairo numerous stories illustrate the sang froid with which they used to knock over the camel-drivers, if any one dared to ride past their barracks.  The Albanians vaunt their skill in using weapons, and their pretensions impose upon Arabs as well as Egyptians; yet I have never found them wonderful with any arm

[p.134](the pistol alone excepted); and our officers, who have visited their native hills, speak of them as tolerable but by no means first-rate rifle shots.

The captain of Irregulars being unhappily debarred the pleasure of shooting me, after looking fierce for a time, rose, and walked majestically out of the room.  A day or two afterwards, he called upon me civilly enough, sat down, drank a cup of coffee, smoked a pipe, and began to converse.  But as he knew about a hundred Arabic words, and I as many Turkish, our conversation was carried on under difficulties.  Presently he asked me in a whisper for “’Araki."[FN#25] I replied that there was none in the house, which induced a sneer and an ejaculation sounding like “Himar,” (ass,) the slang synonym amongst fast Moslems for water-drinker.  After rising to depart, he seized me waggishly, with an eye to a trial of strength.  Thinking that an Indian doctor and a temperance man would not be very dangerous, he exposed himself to what is professionally termed a “cross-buttock,” and had his “nut” come in contact with the stone floor instead of my bed, he might not have drunk for many a day.  The fall had a good effect upon his temper.  He jumped up,