CHAPTER XVII

OUR SOJOURN IN THE CRATER OF NIMRUD

July 16.--It was half-past two in the afternoon before our preparations could be completed, the pack-horses having already started with their loads. Our orchard looked untidy, in spite of the care which had been taken to preserve its freshness from the usual litter of a camp. Still the old imam was profuse of gratitude, his wizened face relaxing into a smile which vexed his muscles to produce. Good-bye to our delicious home, and to our two blue-breasted friends! Their loves have already ripened, and their young will soon be fledged. Journeys many, and various homes, and different fates await us--fragments all of universal matter and soul. But when we sink at last upon the lap of Nature, may her bosom reward the constancy of her own devoted lover with the perfume of the memory of this home!

Our course was directed past the iki kube and across the ravine towards Nimrud. Not a ripple awoke the vivid greens and azures of the lake upon the pallor of the surface of pale turquoise. The light was already mellowing as we approached the tomb upon the headland, throwing the proportions into relief with delicate shadows, and enhancing the natural tints of the pink volcanic stone against the background of restful blue. Before us, upon the horizon, the grassy circle of the gigantic crater filled the landscape of the west (Fig. 185, and plan).

Descending into the delta, we forded the two streams and rose up the opposite cliff side. The more westerly of the pair approaches the alluvial flat by a fine cascade over a ledge of lava. These lavas are seen to have followed the course of the valley, as it expands before you towards the north-west. A similar feature was observed in the ravine of Madavantz. It proves that these valleys are older than the lava, which must have poured down them in a very liquid condition.

From the high land, over which we were again making, and which is here covered with pumice sand, we obtained a view of Bilejan. But our attention was soon diverted by the picturesque situation of a large village on our left hand. A rapid if only momentary change in our surroundings had taken us by surprise. It is due to a bed of dark, glassy lava, perhaps an ancient flow from Nimrud, or from a fissure about its base. A deep stream, which is crossed by a bridge, eats its way through the hard rock, and descends by several waterfalls to a lagoon within the bay. The village is placed at some little distance from the shore of the lake, upon a platform of lava on the right bank of the stream. It possesses two small churches, which are evidently very old. On the outskirts, which we crossed, was a small field, planted with marrows, an unusual luxury in this neighbourhood. The inhabitants are all, I believe, Armenians.

But Karmuch and its black valley, with the willows and the waterfalls, were but an incident--and the last incident--in the scene. An almost uniform plain, of very shallow gradient, stretched from all sides towards the crater in the west. Covered at first by pumice, a brown lava comes to the surface, and extends to the actual wall of the circular mass. Dry watercourses seam the entire region, which, however, is so even in its general character, that it would almost seem to have once been covered, up to the base of the crater, by the waters of the lake. At first the soil is barren, supporting only some burnt herbage; in such surroundings we sank to the trough of an extensive depression, in which is situated a deserted cemetery of some size. But when the lava is reached the vegetation commences, and continues to the foot of the higher seams. The spangled blossoms of atraphaxis, which I had not seen since my first journey, were conspicuous, but only here and there. The prevailing flower was a large forget-me-not, almost the size of a little bush; and, later on, a wild pea, pink and white. The higher we rose the more frequent became patches of standing corn, though by whom planted it was difficult to conceive. Our people said they belonged to a distant Armenian village at the foot of the crater, called Seghurt or Teghurt. The soil, where exposed by the plough, was a rich brown. Small blocks of obsidian, coal-black in hue, were scattered over the grass. Now and again a tortoise waddled over the sand. So we rode for a distance of many miles, until the wall of the crater rose like a rampart above our heads. We had reached an elevation of 6880 feet, or of over 1000 feet above the level of Lake Van.

After a short halt, we led our horses up the slope, which has a gradient of 12°. It was covered with grass, and whole beds of wild pea. These sides of the crater are seamed with deep gullies, which display in section the lava-flows. The dark green obsidian of the uppermost beds was glittering in the sun. A direct ascent of twenty minutes brought us to the surface of a natural terrace, at a height of 7900 feet. We were surprised to find a well-used track, making use of this terrace to reach the summit of the circular wall. Less astonishment was aroused by the presence there of a troop of cavalry; they had come to meet us from their camp within the crater. For more than a week, both cavalry and infantry had been patrolling this strange place, in anticipation of our visit. It is indeed probable that, without these extraordinary precautions, we should have found it impossible to carry on our work. That we were able to go where we pleased, whether in or around the crater, we owe to the kindness of the local authorities, and, in particular, to the late Vali of Bitlis. Our excellent friend, the Kaimakam of Akhlat, personally accompanied us, and remained with us during our stay.

The view from this terrace over the landscape of the east is one of the most inspiring that could be conceived. The western inlets of Lake Van, with their long promontories and varied outline--with the precipitous barrier of the Kurdish mountains rising along the one shore, and from the other the fabric of Sipan--are perhaps the most beautiful portion of the inland sea. They scarcely figure upon existing maps. Certainly when you rise above them, and the expanse of the water is spread beneath you, and Sipan emerges free of all lesser heights--while as yet their essential detail has not been lost by distance, but the vast prospects, which they lack, have been regained--these western inlets are the pride of the scenery of Lake Van. The setting sun sheds a mellow light upon the great volcano, robed in snow, upon the white summits of the Kurdish range, upon the dim outline of Varag. Around the field of pale water are shed a thousand delicate hues, over peak and dome, and buried garden and arable. We can still see the lonely tomb upon the headland. On the opposite coast we see Surb, fairest of little bays; the steep cliffs behind Garzik; the arms of the Sheikh Ora crater, almost encircling the lake admitted to its inmost core.

Such is the landscape--so full of light and most ethereal colour--that has dazzled the eye during the ascent of the rampart. We ride on, along the terrace, with the uppermost slope on our right hand. It has a gradient of about 17°, and is largely covered up with white pumice sand. The track worms its way to a fork in the outline, which we reach in about ten minutes. It is just after six o'clock. The ground falls away, and a scene expands before us which Mother Earth, repentant of her orgies, has acted wisely in surrounding with a wall.

The whole circumference of the gigantic circle towers around us, the vaulted slopes of the outer sides breaking down with precipitous cliffs, which, in some places, attain a height of over 2000 feet above the rubble at their base. The impression of height and steepness is accentuated by the lighting--the sun setting behind the crater. The same circumstance increases the weirdness of the vast spaces of the interior, with their multitude of chaotic forms. Flatness is the prevailing characteristic of the bottom of the basin--but the surface has been blown out by subterranean explosions, or sunk into deep pits, or flooded with viscous lavas, oozing up, and cooling into comb-shaped crags. Here it is a shapeless hill covered with white volcanic dust; there a lava stream, resembling rocks from which the tide has receded, that compels a large circuit from point to point. The coarse herbage has already been burnt by the sun, and its hues assimilated to the volcanic sand. These ragged yellows intermingle with the sombre lavas; and the only touch of beauty in this hell of Nature is a little piece of blue at its furthest side. It is just a glimpse that we obtain of the principal lake.

But what is the meaning of these many paths which seam the interior, arguing a considerable traffic to and fro. Are there villages in the crater? We have never heard of any; we are assured that none exist. Not a fire, no light is anywhere visible; but the tracks are broad, and have all the appearance of being regularly used. We feel surprise and express it to the Kaimakam. He answers naïvely that Kurds come here now and then.

After a short halt, the whole party defiles down the narrow path--zaptiehs, cavalry, a detachment of infantry. Looking backwards, it is a long, thin line from base to summit, the number of horses making an imposing array. Arrived at the foot of the wall, we skirt the cliff for some distance in a north-westerly direction. It is our object to find some shade for our camp. But in this search we become involved in some deep ravines, covered with groves of aspen and birch. Juniper conceals the hollows in the rocky surface, and adds to our difficulties in the failing light. None of the trees are of sufficient height for our purpose; and the Kaimakam entreats us to avoid these wooded ravines, which are, he says, the favourite haunt of bears. They descend to the shore of the warm lake. At last we espy a clearing, a kind of platform, free of brushwood, yet close to the aspen groves. It overlooks, at a considerable elevation above it, the mirror of a fresh-water lake. The peaceful water fills the whole western segment of the crater. Great, black masses in the heights about us intensify the darkness; they are composed of obsidian, pure, and black as jet. On a tiny promontory of the opposite shore a shepherd's fire starts from the shadows. Failing shade, it is just the site for an encampment, and here we erect our tents (Fig. 186).

The morning breaks serene and clear; we have slept, as usual, with our tent open upon one side. It has been chilly during the night; but the temperature rises with great rapidity as the sun mounts above the rim of the crater. A charming landscape is framed within the opening of the green canvas, receiving the mellow light from behind. Beyond the foreground of quivering aspens and white-stemmed, tremulous birches, the eye rests upon the transparent surface of the lake. The opposite segment of the circle of cliffs is mirrored in the water with all the wealth of detail which they possess. Where these images cease, the surface is blue, like any other lake in the recesses of the mountains. We miss the changing effects and splendour of colour, characteristic of the lake of Van.

We descend through the groves to the margin of the water, to take our morning's bathe. The declivity is pretty steep, and there is a difference of level of 300 feet between our camp and the lake. The wood is still cool and fresh. Tall stalks of flowering yellow mullein rise within it; and the prevailing greenness is relieved by patches of pink from the rosebay willow-herb, or of pale salmon from clusters of poppies. It seems quite a nursery for a variety of insects, this crater of Nimrud. Last evening, as we arrived, the bushes were dotted with sleeping butterflies, reminding us of the appearance of those shreds of coloured cotton which are affixed by devout pilgrims to the shrubs round their sacred place. This morning the air is all hum and bright wings; we notice the swallow-tail in abundance, the marbled white, some clouded yellows, a multitude of fritillaries, a few tortoiseshells.

The water is pure as crystal; but it feels cold, having a temperature of 64° Fahrenheit. To the taste it scarcely differs from ordinary water, although we thought it was at once more pleasant and more bracing to the skin. It is evidently increasing in level. Many of the trees along its margin are submerged. We saw no fish, only some small leeches and fresh-water shrimps.

If only one had a boat, and could take soundings, and could cross to the opposite shore! It is probably very deep. The walls of the crater are so precipitous, that one cannot walk along their base. Nor is it possible to reach their summit, except on the eastern side of the great circle, in which we occupy a fairly central position. It is therefore necessary to make a very long detour when we wish to visit any point on the west of the crater.

From our platform we see the worn tracks in all directions. Yet not a single Kurdish tent, no shepherd, no wayfarer can we descry in the wide landscape of the volcanic basin. We observe paved holes in the ground, where it is evident that bread has recently been baked. There are stone enclosures for penning cattle. More and more clearly we realise that the crater must be inhabited, and that this floating population have decamped at the approach of the soldiers. They will return the moment their backs are turned. Indeed the place has the worst reputation as a harbour of lawlessness; and the Turkish Government might well have disclaimed responsibility for our safety in a spot so remote and wild. They deserve our gratitude for what they have done.

Have all quarry left the haunts of the great hunter, whose name is attached to one of the most remarkable among the mountains of the world? One of our party is prepared to swear that he saw two bears in the dusk of evening; they trotted away at his approach. And indeed, one night, I myself was awakened by something rummaging between the outer and the inner roofs of our tent. There are no dogs here; was it a bear? I rose, but could discover nothing--only the fact that our sentries were in a dead sleep. At nightfall our escort light extensive bonfires, and sing the wailing love-songs of the East. At intervals the bugle sounds; then there rises a loud cheer. The bugle, the cheers, the leaping flames, the tremulous chantings--even our watchmen are not proof against the contrast with such excitement of the heavy stillness of the midnight hours. And perhaps the bears have joined the brigands in taking to flight.

For eight whole days we remained upon the mountain, busily employed in examining the crater and its surroundings, and in making a careful plan. We had been joined by Captain Elliot and Mr. Monahan, Her Majesty's Consuls respectively at Van and Bitlis. Captain Elliot was desirous of making use of this favourable occasion in order to study Nimrud. He gave us most valuable assistance in measuring the crater; and while he and Oswald were engaged with our telemeter within the basin, I was reading with the prismatic compass from one point to another along the summit of the cliffs. By the time their labours were completed, I had prepared a drawing of the interior, as well as of some of the features of the crater walls. [249]

In delicious air, under a warm sun, yet always tempered by a cool breeze, my portion of the task was a pure pleasure. On the other hand, my companions looked fatigued in the evening. When my turn came for work inside the crater, I readily understood the cause. From noon to three o'clock the conditions were most exhausting. The sun flamed above our heads, and the rock reverberated under our feet. Refreshment came when the wind rose, but it was in the nature of a strong draught. On one occasion I let fall a lighted match by accident; it set fire to a whole side of the central hill. Our people and the soldiers cut down branches and made arbours; but, even so, they suffered during the heat of the day. Our cook implored me to move camp, and not deprive his wife and children of their sole support. If only the floating population of the place would allow the little trees to grow into wood! But they need firing more than shade. The shade temperature was never excessive--some 80° to 85°. And the nights were cool, necessitating a double blanket. When we arrived, there still remained a patch or two of last winter's snow within the wide area of the interior.

The commanding position, the imposing dimensions, the remarkable preservation of the Nimrud crater cannot fail to arouse the curiosity of the traveller, as he sees it from afar or passes it by. In summer it is a circle of grassy cliffs with a vaulted outline; during winter and autumn, when the higher levels are early robed in snow, it is a startling presence against the sky (see Fig. 145, p. 142). From any point you command but a small portion of the vast circumference, which, measured upon our plan, amounts to 14 1/2 miles. Of unequal height, the edge of the basin is most elevated upon the north, where at two points it attains an altitude of nearly 10,000 feet. It is lowest upon the east and west; in either quarter the outline dips to a level of 8100 feet. But the circle is nowhere broken; the rim of the caldron remains intact, although worn down and, in places, chipped. With two great depressions on either side, the lake of Van (5600 feet) and the plain of Mush (4200 feet), such a presence fills the landscape and engrosses the eye.

Nor is the imagination disappointed when the interior of the crater is seen for the first time. I have already described the impression which that view produced upon us, entering it from the east. The lake fills almost the whole of the western half of its area, at a level of 7656 feet. The remaining portion consists of older lava streams, covered with pumice, and of some more recent, which bristle with sharp crags. The eastern shore of the lake is deeply indented, and the volcanic matter has cooled in the form of high banks. The figure described by the walls of the crater is almost exactly circular, the diameter being greatest along an east-north-east line, or between the fork, where we first entered the basin, and the passage in on the west (c and m on plan). The distance between these points is nearly 5 miles (8500 yards). Nimrud is therefore one of the largest perfect craters in the world. [250] The period during which it seethed with a lake of molten matter, which overflowed into the lower levels on every side, must date far beyond the limits of history. At the present day not a wreath of smoke ascends from the volcano; though at times a little landslip sends the fine sand into the air, with much the same appearance as a cloud.

But the student of volcanic phenomena could not select a better example of the successive stages of eruptive activity. In an earlier stage we must suppose the walls of the crater somewhat higher, and the area considerably narrower which they enclosed. The earliest lavas, in the case of Nimrud, were of an acid and viscous description (rhyolitic augite-andesites); and, as often as they rose above the lip of the caldron, they did not flow very far. But the later basaltic lavas had a larger extension; and to them is due, in no small measure, the plateau on the east of Tadvan, which acts as a dam to the lake of Van. The molten lava surged against the precipices which confined it, and gradually wore them back. The work of enlargement was advanced by violent explosions, which were principally directed against the western and eastern sides of the volcanic basin. The uppermost and steepest portions of the wall were, on these two sides, completely blown away. This epoch in the life of the volcano, the storm and stress of a tumultuous youth, was followed by the gradual subsidence of its energies. The streams of lava were confined to the interior of the crater, and the deeper portion came to be covered with a lake. It was perhaps at this period that were produced the little craters which figure on the outer slopes of the principal caldron, roughly along meridional lines. Such minor points of emission were also formed within that caldron, and from them proceeded some of the older flows which cover its floor. Explosions again occurred; but their effects were only local. They blew away portions of the little craters, and sent up showers of dust, which, falling to the ground, cloaked the surface of the lava streams. The latest and moribund stage is represented by those bosses of lava which form such a conspicuous feature. The viscous matter welled up along old lines of weakness, and from the chimneys of the little craters. One of these bosses divides a small warm lake from the main sheet of water; others form little peninsulas in the principal lake (C, D, E). They have all the appearance of being fairly recent, and they are not yet overgrown with wood. Finally one may mention some extensive flows of cinder, about the base of the little crater on the outside of the mountain, on the north of the circle of cliffs. They might have issued a few months ago.

To these various manifestations of the expiring forces of the volcano is due the present weird and troubled aspect of the interior, which formed the basis of our first impression. The little wood is confined to the neighbourhood of the lake; the remaining portion is barren and rugged. A high hill, covered with pumice, and about in the centre of this region, affords an admirable standpoint from which to survey the whole (L on plan). The little lakes which figure on the plan are due to the melting snows. I doubt whether you would find a spring of good, fresh water; we all drank the water of the lake. The warm lake is situated beneath the escarpment of the wall on the north, and is almost contiguous with the principal sheet of water (A). Its level is about the same. But it differs from the other lagoons in respect of its colour, which, owing to the abundance of vegetation in its vicinity, is a yellow-green, resembling an English village pool. It is said to possess healing properties; but this I should be inclined to doubt. Oswald, who waded about with unflagging curiosity, hunted out the several emissions of bubbles. Their intermittent nature reminded us of similar phenomena in the shallows of Lake Van. Perhaps the gas is merely due to decaying vegetable matter upon the bottom, and the temperature principally to the powerful effect of the sun's rays. The water in this lake, as in the big one, is rising in level, a fact which is probably due to the increased action of mineral springs. It is flat and mawkish to the taste.

I should say that it might be possible to ride round the edge of the crater within a space of seven or eight hours. But the outline is so uneven, and the ground in places so difficult, that, at the best, it would prove a very hard day's work. We devoted considerable portions of several days to making the circuit, revisiting certain of the most important points. The ride is so remarkable, that I propose to follow it in some detail. The changing scenes which you overlook from a moderate height, from choice positions, among immediate surroundings of the grandest order, are nothing less than the geography of this part of Asia, outspread before you beyond the skill of maps.

The large feature, the leading motive of the immense landscape is the likeness, and yet the contrast, between the two great depressions on the west and east of the lofty stage upon which you stand. Both are bounded on the south by the long barrier of the Kurdish mountains; both oppose to that deep belt of serried ridges expanses of perfectly even surface. But, while the one dazzles the eye with its splendour of outline and brilliance of colouring, the other is always dim, grey, vague, and unseizable. Neither view is ever lost for very long. Even while you are in possession of the long perspective of the plain of Mush, stretching to the horizon with a wealth of subdued detail, like the nave of some great cathedral in the West, between the crags in the opposite quarter, through some fork in the outline, the blue lake, the point of a promontory, a glimpse of Sipan may still be seen.

Let us start from the point at which we entered the crater, from a level of 8150 feet (c on plan). It will be early in the morning, when the sky is flaked with cloud--beds of vapour, grey and white, scarcely concealing the field of blue, and unmoved by a breath of wind. Proceeding northwards along the wall of the crater, we rapidly ascend. Our horses' hoofs sink in the powdery pumice sand, which is held together in places by bushes of flowering spiræa, and by tufts of grass, among which a small species of campanula hangs its pretty little violet bells. The pumice tells the story of the violent explosions to which the present aspect of the crater is due. They have enlarged the circumference of the walls of the basin; and their effect is clearly visible from the interior as one looks to the side of the wall up the edge of which we now ride. Whereas the beds of lava on the north and south walls, which are the most lofty, are seen in section as perfectly horizontal sheets, on this north-eastern wall, as well as upon the face of the corresponding cliff on the west, they have a downward slope. It is obvious that all the layers at the time of emission must have been horizontal around the original crater rim; and the pronounced obliquity of the beds on the western and eastern sides is due to their being exposed by explosive agency at a point where they had commenced to descend to the surrounding plains. The underlying lava is of the usual description, a rhyolitic andesite with a thin selvage, or upper surface, of obsidian, which shines like jet in the sun. The basaltic lavas, with their cloak of pumice, ease the gradient of the slope towards the plain in the direction of Akhlat; but the explosion has produced a steepness up which the horses are obliged to zigzag, in making north, along the edge of the cliff. A turn outwards discloses the harmony of the landscape of Lake Van; a turn inwards the mystery of the scene within the crater. The higher we rise, the more abruptly the outer slope of the wall sinks to the plains about its base. The pumice disappears; the lava gets the upper hand. After a climb of some duration, we reach the summit of the wall on the north, at a point which is almost immediately above the hot lake (b). Our elevation is now 9750 feet; and this lofty level is continued, with little intermission, for some distance towards the west.

The greatest eminence of the cliff stands back from the lip of the crater, say at an interval of 80 yards from the point described. Here, among huge blocks of reddish-brown rock, I take the boiling-point. The mean of this reading with another, registered on a subsequent day, gives a result of 9900 feet. We are therefore standing on the highest pinnacle of the whole circumference. Pinnacle and slope are free of snow; but snow would lie at this season were it not for the steepness of the slope of lava. The lava does not appear to have extended much beyond the foot of the immensely lofty crater wall. Beyond some broad-shouldered bastions, we look down into the plain south of Lake Nazik; we range the shores of that lonely lagoon. Not a tree can be discerned in that wide landscape; no strip of verdure fringes the margin of the blue water; scarcely a patch of cultivation features the plain. The block of limestone hills between us and the dome of Sipan, forming the coast of Lake Van, recess away behind Akhlat towards Lake Nazik; and, from this height, one might suppose that the level of the plain below us were continued to the borders of the inland sea. The conspicuous mountain, besides Sipan, is the rugged mass of Bilejan, rising to a sharp-edged ridge. The outlines in the north, Khamur and Bingöl, remained misty during the whole of our stay. But the delicate bedding of cloud, which may collect towards morning, soon gives way, as the day advances, to a sky of the purest blue.

West of this position, the rim of the crater flattens, although its immediate edge is much broken, apparently by earthquakes, the fissures in the surface of rock necessitating detours outward, towards the lower levels. We are approaching the little crater on the outside of Nimrud, of which mention has already been made. The wall still maintains its considerable altitude, the height of an eminence of huge boulders, by which we pass, being again 9750 feet. The little crater is situated at some distance north of the main basin, but before the ground falls away to the plain. Indeed we are now in the neighbourhood of the extensive flows of basaltic lava which are such a feature on the north-west side of the great crater. Such is the insignificance of the object for which we are making, that it might well pass unobserved from the edge of the cliff. But the curiosity is aroused by a long, low ridge, like a volcanic dike, which, commencing almost at that edge, is produced at right angles, in the direction of the plain. Realising the feature, one observes that the field of lava on the margin of the cliff is raised up into a saddle along a meridional line. A little further northwards, and at a lower level, pasty rhyolitic lavas have oozed up from long, narrow fissures along the eastern base of the ridge. At its extreme end there is a mass of the same lava; and at that point the ground breaks away towards the lower region.

Slanting off from the edge of the cliff in a north-north-westerly direction, we reach the eastern base of the low ridge. It is flanked on this side by deep fissures in the surface of the ground--gloomy chasms, partially filled with perpetual snow. Towards their upper or southernmost end there is a small circular pit, from which protrudes a boss of rhyolitic lava. A little lower down the several fissures combine, and form a long trough. This trough has been partially filled with a mass of lava, which stands up with rugged crags. From the base of this lava an extensive flow of cinders blackens the ground for a considerable distance towards north-east. The trough or principal fissure again splits up into minor cracks, as it reaches the elevated platform of the terminal crater.

In a manner exactly similar to the upwelling of lava within the fissure, the little crater has been filled up with the same pasty matter. This forms the mass at the extreme end of the meridional ridge. The walls of the basin are beautifully modelled, the shape being preserved by a pavement of basaltic lava. The pool of rhyolitic lava is, of course, a much later feature. Like the same phenomena in the interior of the great crater, which are all due to the expiring forces of Nimrud, the appearance of the mass is that of a boss. One cannot fail to be impressed with the contrast which is presented between the smooth and rounded sides of this almost circular basin, and the monstrous pile which has arisen in their midst.

We cross to the further or western side of the terminal crater, observing that its walls are fractured by the lava on the north and south. We descend to another flow of cinders. Hard by is a little Kurdish yaila, at the foot of an extensive patch of snow. We enquire whether they can tell us when these cinders were emitted; for they might have issued a year ago. They answer that they have always known them there. Leaving the hollows, we regain the neighbourhood of the cliff, which is bordered, in this quarter, by a broad field of basaltic lava.

We make our way over this field, in a south-south-westerly direction, towards an eminence of the crater wall on its westerly side. A conical hump rises from the lava at no great distance from the edge of the caldron, and forms a conspicuous landmark, as well from the interior as from the summit of the cliffs (o). The field is extremely even, being composed of a pavement which suggests the appearance of a military road, fallen into disuse. This characteristic is, of course, due to the columnar lava. In places this even surface is overlaid with cindery blocks. Patches of grass occur, from which the snow has just melted; these will be browsed by a dark flock with their Kurdish shepherd. At first the direction of flow which was followed by the lava is towards the region we are leaving behind; but a little further on it inclines towards the plain of Mush. In the neighbourhood of the conical eminence we come across some blocks of obsidian, which are probably due to the last violent explosion.

From the summit of our landmark all these features become clear; we overlook these extensive fields of basalt. Judging from the manner in which they have flowed, it would, at least, appear probable that at one time in the history of the volcano the wall was extremely high on the side of the plain of Mush. Indeed one is surprised at the limited amount of matter which has been outpoured in the direction of that great depression. The conclusion is suggested that the explosion which produced the lake blew away the upper portion of the wall on the west. This conical eminence marks an independent point of emission, which vomited lava after the wall had been thus reduced. The flows are seen to have branched out in all directions, even towards the present edge of the crater.

This eminence is the second conspicuous pinnacle of the circle, as seen from immense distances in the northerly regions. We can see the two summits of the Bingöl rampart, while Bilejan is fully exposed. The long perspective of the plain of Mush is outspread before us, flanked on the south side by the base of the Kurdish mountains, and, on the other, by a line of heights which recall the appearance of the block of limestones between the plain of Melazkert and the lake of Van. To that broad belt of heights the lavas descend with precipitous escarpments, and also to the plain. The dim surface of the level ground is seamed with rivulets, which, towards evening, flash in the light. Sheets of light in the distance represent the course of the Murad, after it has entered the plain. The head of the depression is remarkable for a pronounced terrace along the foot of the heights, perhaps denoting the level of a former lake. [251]

From this pinnacle, which has an altitude of 9676 feet, we arrive, by a rapid descent, at the fork in the outline which corresponds to the dip in the opposite wall on the east, whence we started on our ride. The elevation of this fork is almost exactly the same, 8140 feet. We are here on the longest axis of the circular ellipse (c-m). A path enters the crater from the direction of the plain of Mush, and debouches on to a little promontory at the foot of the cliffs, the only projection from their abrupt sides. The promontory, which is covered with scrub, is probably due to a local flow of lava; a few little islands are placed at its extremity. It would not be possible to make use of this entrance to reach the high ground on the east of the lake, owing to the steepness of the walls on either side and the absence of any beach. The outline again rises on the south of this passage, although the outward slope is fairly well rounded. But after crossing some bold cliffs, over ground flooded with tuff, you sink for the second time to a considerable hollow (i-k, alt. 8700 feet). This depression on the south-western side of the crater wall is remarkable for a somewhat singular phenomenon. From the edge of the crater you overlook a grassy terrace, some one hundred feet down the cliff-side. The slope of this step-like prominence is inclined upwards from the face of the cliff, so that the edge of the terrace is not much lower than the edge of the crater. It is probable that it represents a piece of the crater wall which has slipped down into the lake. Along the middle of the terrace runs a ridge of lava, about parallel to the cliff. We have already passed several of such dikes.

Rising gradually, we soon leave the terrace behind us, and our attention is directed to the interesting features on the outside. Below us, from the eastern margin of the plain of Mush, rises a volcanic mass of imposing proportions, almost flat and slightly hollow at the top. A number of little conical summits emerge from the platform, and the mountain is thickly covered with brush. The slopes on all sides, except towards Nimrud, appear extremely abrupt. It is separated by a little upland plain from the sides of the crater; and it is clear that the mass has acted like a dam to the flows of molten matter. It has turned them in the direction of Tadvan, as well as towards the plain of Mush. My people confirmed the name under which I have already made it known (Ch. VII. Fig. 150). It is called the Kerkür Dagh.

I have also alluded in a former place (ibid.) to the little parasite cone, high up on the outer wall of the crater on the south. Passing it now from above, it looms much larger; and it is succeeded, lower down, by quite a series of volcanic vents. These are all in the same line with the more pronounced feature, and roughly in the same line with the dike and crater on the north of Nimrud. Rising always higher, we make our way with some caution along an edge which has become knife-like in character. Indeed it is in places not more than 8 or 10 feet wide. On our left hand descend the vertical walls of the crater; on our right a slope of about 30° seems scarcely less precipitous to the eye. The lavas descend with bold bastions towards Tadvan. The highest point on this side of the crater is on this edge; it has an elevation of 9430 feet.

The view embraces the wild ridges of the Kurdish mountains on the south, capped with snow on their topmost peaks. Trees in a hollow and a winding road among the recesses of that barrier are recognised as marking the site of Bitlis. Below us lies the wooded platform of the Kerkür Dagh; the plateau of lava, between the plain of Mush and the shores of the great lake, appears to shelve with gentle gradients towards those waters. We discern the verdure about the village of Tadvan. In the north we may descry both summits of the Bingöl ridge; while the dome of the Kuseh Dagh is a bold, vague presence in the sky. From this lofty portion of the crater wall the descent is rapid and continuous to the beds of pumice which cloak it up on the east. We again overlook the beautiful inlets of Lake Van. We avail ourselves of a track which leads from Tadvan into the caldron (e), in order to reach our camp. The outline of the circle of cliffs again rises a little between this point and the track from Akhlat.

I have taken my reader a long ride, round the vast circumference of the crater--an excursion which, when presented in the form of a narrative, may be too tedious for his taste. Let me therefore endeavour to present in a summary manner some of the conclusions which were engendered in our minds. Faithful to the laws of eruptive volcanic agency, this huge crater has arisen on the margin of a great depression of the surface of the tableland. In spite of the considerable difference in their present elevation, the lake of Van and the plain of Mush may be regarded as parts of a single basin. Indeed it is mainly due to the emissions of lava from Nimrud that the lake is now separated from the plain. The region on the north of the crater is considerably higher, though in closer connection with the lake than with the plain. Nature has produced this manifestation of violence in the stress of her effort to complete a harmonious design. The curving over of the great lines of mountain-making has resulted in this explosion of forces, usually under control. But as we make our way in silence beneath the stillness of the night, threading the chaos of tumultuous forms on the floor of the crater, we may yet reflect upon the relative insignificance of such violent action, even in a country where it has operated on so great a scale. The stratified rocks are seldom wholly absent in the landscapes, as they are wanting to the savage landscape of the Nimrud caldron; and, when you think you are admiring the long train of a volcano, a closer inspection reveals slowly-built, sedimentary mountains, upon which the volcano has been reared. Nature has preferred regularity of achievement, a quality reflected by the moral sense of Man. [252]