d of
protecting it, only furnishing one facility the more for destruction.
After an hour's rest at a fountain, we threaded the windings of the glen
to a lower plain, quite shut in by the hills, whose ribs of marble showed
through the forests of oak, holly, cedar, and pine, which dotted them. We
were now fully entered into the hill-country, and our road passed over
heights and through hollows covered with picturesque clumps of foliage. It
resembled some of the wild western downs of America, and, but for the
Phrygian tombs, whose doorways stared at us from every rock, seemed as
little familiar with the presence of Man.

Hadji Youssuf, in stopping to arrange some of the baggage, lost his hold
of his mule, and in spite of every effort to secure her, the provoking
beast kept her liberty for the rest of the day. In vain did we head her
off, chase her, coax her, set traps for her: she was too cunning to be
taken in, and marched along at her ease, running into every field of
grain, stopping to crop the choicest bunches of grass, or walking demurely
in the caravan, allowing the hadji to come within arm's length before she
kicked up her heels and dashed away again. We had a long chase through the
clumps of oak and holly, but all to no purpose. The great green gad-flies
swarmed around us, biting myself as well as my horse. Hecatombs, crushed
by my whip, dropped dead in the dust, but the ranks were immediately
filled from some invisible reserve. The soil was no longer bare, but
entirely covered with grass and flowers. In one of the valleys I saw a
large patch of the crimson larkspur, so thick as to resemble a pool of
blood. While crossing a long, hot hill, we came upon a little arbor of
stones, covered with pine branches. It inclosed an ancient sarcophagus of
marble, nearly filled with water. Beside it stood a square cup, with a
handle, rudely hewn out of a piece of pine wood. This was a charitable
provision for travellers, and constantly supplied by the Turcomans who
lived in the vicinity.

The last two hours of our journey that day were through a glorious forest
of pines. The road lay in a winding glen, green and grassy, and covered to
the summits on both sides with beautiful pine trees, intermixed with
cedar. The air had the true northern aroma, and was more grateful than
wine. Every turn of the glen disclosed a charming woodland view. It was a
wild valley of the northern hills, filled with the burning lustre of a
summer sun, a