y surrounding hills, and covered with a species of dwarf vegetation.
The appearance of the force, as it straggled over this wavy expanse of
stone, was curious enough, and it certainly baffles all attempts at
description; so I must ask my readers to allow their imagination to
people the _mer de glace_ with some thousands of Oriental soldiers,
regular and irregular, pipe-bearers, and household servants formidably
armed, and they will not be far from a just conception of the case.
After marching for five hours over this inhospitable tract, we halted at
the mouth of a valley where the hills open out into a small plain. This
forms the entrance to the Pass of Koryta, whence we had just emerged. It
is a spot of ill repute even amongst the barbarous inhabitants of these
regions; and more Turks have received their death-wounds from behind the
boulders, which have served to screen the assassins, or from the knives
of the ever-ready Greeks in that fatal gorge, than in any other spot of
these disordered lands. The Pass is formed by the extremities of Banyani
and Pianina, and is of much strategical importance. It was one of the
first points subsequently occupied by Omer Pacha. Many a disaster has
been brought about by the incautious recklessness of those in command of
Turkish troops, and it was with some satisfaction that I saw the heights
both in front and rear crowned by Turkish battalions, before the
remainder were allowed to pile their arms, and betake themselves to
sleep or any other recreation. It was impossible not to revert in
imagination to the scenes of blood and strife of which Koryta has been
the site, as contrasted with its appearance at that moment. Groups of
Turkish soldiers were amusing themselves by dancing a national dance,
with as much gaiety as though they had not marched a yard, and with far
more activity than one would be disposed to give them credit for
possessing. The dance, a kind of jumping reel, was accompanied by
droning music not unlike the pipes. A little farther a regimental band
was murdering the two or three European airs with which it was
acquainted. One of these, to which they showed a good-natured antipathy
by frequently murdering, was 'La Donna e Mobile,' or 'La Donna
_Amabile_,' as Omer took pleasure in calling it. And thus the day wore
on, until, late in the evening, we arrived at Tchernitza, a little town
of about 600 inhabitants. Our camp was formed on a level plot, which
looked green and pleas