ntier of Phrygia--Ancient Quarries and Tombs--We Enter the Pine
Forests--A Guard-House--Encampments of the Turcomans--Pastoral
Scenery--A Summer Village--The Valley of the Tombs--Rock Sepulchres of
the Phrygian Kings--The Titan's Camp--The Valley of Kuembeh--A Land of
Flowers--Turcoman Hospitality--The Exiled Effendis--The Old Turcoman--A
Glimpse of Arcadia--A Landscape--Interested Friendship--The Valley of
the Pursek--Arrival at Kiutahya.

"And round us all the thicket rang
To many a flute of Arcady." Tennyson.

Kiutahya, _July_ 5, 1852.

We had now passed through the ancient provinces of Cilicia, Cappadocia,
and Lycaonia, and reached the confines of Phrygia--a rude mountain region,
which was never wholly penetrated by the light of Grecian civilization. It
is still comparatively a wilderness, pierced but by a single high-road,
and almost unvisited by travellers, yet inclosing in its depths many
curious relics of antiquity. Leaving Bolawaduen in the morning, we ascended
a long, treeless mountain-slope, and in three or four hours reached the
dividing ridge---the watershed of Asia Minor, dividing the affluents of
the Mediterranean and the central lakes from the streams that flow to the
Black Sea. Looking back, Sultan Dagh, along whose base we had travelled
the previous day, lay high and blue in the background, streaked with
shining snow, and far away behind it arose a still higher peak, hoary with
the lingering winter. We descended into a grassy plain, shut in by a range
of broken mountains, covered to their summits with dark-green shrubbery,
through which the strata of marble rock gleamed like patches of snow. The
hills in front were scarred with old quarries, once worked for the
celebrated Phrygian marble. There was neither a habitation nor a human
being to be seen, and the landscape had a singularly wild, lonely, and
picturesque air.

Turning westward, we crossed a high rolling tract, and entered a valley
entirely covered with dwarf oaks and cedars. In spite of the dusty road,
the heat, and the multitude of gad-flies, the journey presented an
agreeable contrast to the great plains over which we had been travelling
for many days. The opposite side of the glen was crowned with a tall crest
of shattered rock, in which were many old Phrygian tombs. They were mostly
simple chambers, with square apertures. There were traces of many more,
the rock having been blown up or quarried down--the tombs, instea