The leader repeated portions of the Koran, in which
exercise others occasionally took part in a quiet manner. After a while
they knelt in line opposite their leader and began to chant in louder
tones, occasionally bowing forward full length. Matters down below
progressed slowly at first, and were getting monotonous. One of my feet,
unaccustomed to its novel position, had gone to sleep, and I was in a
cramped state generally. Moreover, we were not the sole occupants of the
gallery: the sheepskins were full of them, and I began to think that if
the dervishes did not soon begin to howl, _I_ should. Some traveler has
said that on the coast of Syria the Arabs have a proverb that the
"sultan of _fleas_ holds his court in Jaffa, and the grand vizier in
Cairo." Certainly some very high dignitary of the realm presides over
Constantinople, and makes his head-quarters in the mosque of the Howling
Dervishes.
[Illustration: CASTLE OF EUROPE, ON THE BOSPHORUS.]
The dervishes now stood up in line, taking hold of hands, and swayed
backward, forward and sideways, with perfect uniformity, wildly
chanting, or rather howling, verses of the Koran, and keeping time with
their movements. They commenced slowly, and increased the rapidity of
their gymnastics as they became more excited and devout. The whole
performance lasted an hour or more, and at the end they naturally seemed
quite exhausted. Then little children were brought in, laid on the
floor, and the head-dervish stepped on their bodies.
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