proclaiming that Allah was one and indivisible and Mohammed was his Prophet. Blood then poured from his mouth, for he had run for many days and nights through drenching rain and along slippery bypaths, and his strength was at an end, although under normal conditions these runners could cover the distance between Istanbul and Adrianople in a single day.
Suleiman and Ibrahim submitted to the will of Allah and no one was punished for the delay caused by the rain. As the army marched slowly onward, many perished in the swollen rivers despite all precautions. Numberless pack camels, having had enough of the miry roads, closed their eyes and nostrils and sank down beneath their load, never to rise again.
The summer was already far advanced, bright poppies flowered on the plains of Hungary, and I had had more than my fill of the willow thickets and bogs of our route, when at last at the head of the army we reached the banks of the still flooded Drava, by the town of Esseki. The Turkish garrison had long since given up hope of crossing it and had paid for their feeble efforts at bridge building with scores of drowned men, for the current tore away the mightiest timbers as if they were straws.
In the town of Esseki we met at last our great chief, Khosref-pasha. He stroked his beard and surveyed the swirling Drava thoughtfully. At length he said in submissive tones, “Allah is great. Allah is the one God and Mohammed is his Prophet, peace be with him. The Sultan can scarcely demand the impossible of me, since I married his cousin and am thus related to him by blood. But Ibrahim, Grand Vizier and Seraskier, is a ruthless man. I must therefore bid farewell to my gray beard. You, my dear children and sturdy builders, would be wise to make your peace with Allah.”
His men had formerly accompanied Selim the implacable on his many campaigns; they had built bridges over numberless rivers from Hungary to Egypt and by means of skillful sapping had reduced many fortified cities, including Belgrade and Rhodes. But even these veterans began weeping and tearing their beards as they cursed the Drava, the treacherous land of Hungary, King Ferdinand, and especially his brother, the Emperor of the unbelievers. But Sinan, having silently waited until the eldest among them had said their say, stepped forward and began, “Why, think you, did I cause thousands of camels and oxen to drag huge balks of timber from the hillsides of five countries to the banks of the Drava? Why have I sent the best smiths and carpenters to this miserable hole Esseki, on forced marches along unspeakable roads? As long ago as last winter detailed information was sent me at the Seraglio about the breadth of the Drava, the nature of its banks, and the strength of its current. Night and day I’ve wrestled with figures, that I might build a mighty bridge across this river. Shall all this have been in vain? No! I will not throw away my rule, compasses, and tables without at least attempting the great task.”
The master builders, who had a lifetime’s experience behind them, looked pityingly at the younger man and said, “Who is this Sinan, who gained his knowledge sitting on silken cushions in the Seraglio? The profoundest wisdom consists in submission to the will of Allah, and surely in this matter Allah has made his meaning plain.”
Sinan glanced at the broad river, at the timbers stacked on the bank, and at the rafts already built. Then falling on his knees he kissed the ground before Khosref-pasha and said, “I’m young, but I’ve listened to the wisdom of the foremost bridge builders of our time. I have read the works of the Greek strategists and studied the description of the bridge that Iskender the Great threw across the river Indus. Give me your hammer, noble Khosref-pasha, and in the sight of all raise me to the rank of your son. Then, despite all obstacles, I will bridge the Drava. Ride meanwhile to the Sultan and beg him for three days’ grace. He will need those three days himself to rest his troops. But I must ask for the help of all the thirty thousand janissaries.”
Khosref-pasha shook his head and for a long time he demurred. Yet there was something so persuasive in Sinan the Builder’s assurance that at length he gave in.
“Well, I will be a father to you,” he assented, “and share your disgrace if you fail. But I mean to share the honor also, if by the help of Allah and his angels you achieve the impossible. Take my hammer-and let all of you, my sons, obey young Sinan!”
He handed his jeweled and gold-hafted hammer to Sinan, laid a hand upon his shoulder and declared in the presence of many witnesses, “You are flesh of my flesh, my son Sinan the Builder.”
He then rapidly recited the first sura in confirmation, sent for his horse, and set forth with his suite to meet the Sultan.
I hardly know how to account for Sinan’s bold behavior unless it was that having been born in this region he knew the ways of Serbian rivers, or perhaps had reason to believe that the rainy spell was now at an end. Be that as it may, by next day the level of the water had fallen and Sinan sent thousands of men into the river to sink caissons and fill them with rocks, and to drive massive piles into the river bed at points carefully calculated and marked in his plans.
Each end of the bridge was strengthened by sturdy abutments to withstand any further floods, and work did not cease even at nightfall. Swarms of naked men waded through the dark waters by the light of torches and flares. Above the rushing of the torrent, the din of hammering and sawing could be heard in Esseki itself. Sinan the Builder took further advantage of his new authority by promising unheard-of sums to every man who hastened the work, and ordered the Marabouts to proclaim that all who drowned or were crushed by falling timbers or in any other way lost their lives should win direct to Paradise exactly as if they had fallen in battle against idolatrous unbelievers. Even the janissaries caught something of his dauntless energy, for unlike the experienced engineers they could form no clear idea of the magnitude of the task.
Sinan could not indeed complete the bridge by the third day, when the Sultan and Grand Vizier arrived with the main army, but he explained ingeniously that the three days he asked for were to be reckoned from the time the Sultan reached the banks of the Drava. And when the Sultan saw that despite seemingly insuperable difficulties the work was really going forward, he did not question this new interpretation. He and the Grand Vizier, plainly dressed and with pointed helmets on their heads, made their way to the scene of operations attended by a few green- clad
At the last moment the camels came up and also a number of trained elephants, which so far as I could see were of great service. Between their great ears sat the Indian mahouts looking like little monkeys, and the clever, ponderous beasts obeyed their every sign, walking in single file into the river, groping for foothold, and catching one another by the tail to form a living breakwater for the laborers. On their gilded tusks they lifted timbers that not ten men could move, and carried them easily to the place where they were needed. But Sinan the Builder said, “Those animals are more trouble than they’re worth; they splash about and get in everybody’s way. However, they amuse the Sultan and the janissaries and keep my workmen in a good humor. But your brawny brother Andy is worth ten elephants to me.”
I noticed that Andy had risen high in rank among the builders and was wearing the turban of a bimbash. But unable to sustain his new dignity he toiled away ax in hand, ever ready to raise and bear on his shoulders a log that the efforts of many men had not availed to shift. His feats inspired awe and fear, yet he seemed to me to lack the qualities needful for a bimbash, or captain of a thousand. He found it difficult to direct the work of others and preferred to tackle all awkward tasks himself, to demonstrate how he thought they should be done. Having watched his foolish behavior for some time I could no longer keep silence, and for the sake of our long-standing friendship I went up to him and said, “It’s unseemly for a bimbash to behave like a peasant in front of his subordinates, and you shame others of your rank by appearing with a sooty face and tarry hands. You’ve broken your line plume, and no bimbash ought to roll up his sleeves until he draws his sword in battle.”
But Andy answered, “This work is only temporary, and it really hurt me to watch how these fumbling Moslems handle an ax. And then Sinan begged me on his knees to help, and he’s a good fellow, whose only fault is to let you loiter about and make silly remarks.”
On the sixth day the bridge was finished, and for four days and nights the army crossed it in an unbroken stream, while the cautious Sinan watched to see that no excessive strain was placed upon it. Sultan Suleiman called Khosref-pasha and Sinan to his tent on the first evening of that march, together with their immediate assistants. Andy had therefore to wash his hands and don a red kaftan that Khosref- pasha had given him. But at this moment of triumph Sinan lost all his self-assurance, and was disconcerted when the janissaries ran at his heels loudly singing his praises and clashing their ladles against their cooking pots. When we reached the gorgeous awning that
