es before Christ.

A little in front of a headland, formed by the summit walls of two meeting
valleys, rises a mass of rocks one hundred feet high, cut into sepulchral
chambers, story above story, with the traces of steps between them,
leading to others still higher. The whole rock, which may be a hundred and
fifty feet long by fifty feet broad, has been scooped out, leaving but
narrow partitions to separate the chambers of the dead. These chambers are
all plain, but some are of very elegant proportions, with arched or
pyramidal roofs, and arched recesses at the sides, containing sarcophagi
hewn in the solid stone. There are also many niches for cinerary urns. The
principal tomb had a portico, supported by columns, but the front is now
entirely hurled down, and only the elegant panelling and stone joists of
the ceiling remain. The entire hill was a succession of tombs. There is
not a rock which does not bear traces of them. I might have counted
several hundred within a stone's throw. The position of these curious
remains in a lonely valley, shut in on all sides by dark, pine-covered
mountains---two of which are crowned with a natural acropolis of rock,
resembling a fortress--increases the interest with which they inspire the
beholder. The valley on the western side, with its bed of ripe wheat in
the bottom, its tall walls, towers, and pinnacles of rock, and its distant
vista of mountain and forest, is the most picturesque in Phrygia.

The Turcoman reapers, who came up to see us and talk with us, said that
there were the remains of walls on the summit of the principal acropolis
opposite us, and that, further up the valley, there was a chamber with two
columns in front. Mr. Harrison and I saddled and rode off, passing along a
wall of fantastic rock-turrets, at the base of which was a natural column,
about ten feet high, and five in diameter, almost perfectly round, and
upholding an immense rock, shaped like a cocked hat. In crossing the
meadow we saw a Turk sitting in the sun beside a spring, and busily
engaged in knitting a stocking. After a ride of two miles we found the
chamber, hewn like the facade of a temple in an isolated rock, overlooking
two valleys of wild meadow-land. The pediment and cornice were simple and
beautiful, but the columns had been broken away. The chambers were
perfectly plain, but the panel-work on the ceiling of the portico was
entire.

After passing three hours in examining these tombs, we took