FROM MELAZKERT TO AKHLAT
In one of the ancient towers of the wall on the west was residing a
Kurdish chief, surrounded by a posse of his followers. Perhaps he
was in some sense a hostage to the Government, or perhaps he was
acting in a representative capacity towards the five regiments of
Hamidiyeh, each with 500 men, which, he assured me, were furnished by
his tribe. His name is Riza Bey, and he is the brother of Fethulla Bey,
chief of all Hasananli. His brother resides in the village of Dignuk,
on the right bank of the Murad near Melazkert. Riza Bey came to visit
us in the citadel and I returned his visit in the tower. His window
commanded a fine prospect over the alluvial plain in the direction
of the Murad--all the detail, of crumbling cemetery, of willow-grown
hollow, of channelled flats, framed by the deep embrasure. My host
was seated on a divan, covered with a beautiful Kurdish kilim;
he was readily distinguished by his ferocious black moustache. He
gave evasive answers to my questions about the annual trainings; one
hears so very much, and one sees so very little of this formidable
Hamidiyeh! Melazkert is a kind of headquarters for the force; and
I feel sure that, if even one regiment were in actual existence,
it would have been paraded for our benefit.
Late in the afternoon of the 5th of July we forded the stream in the
southern ravine, and, after crossing an extensive and very ruinous
cemetery, made our way over the plain of lava which stretches without
interruption to the base of the still distant Sipan. Our course was
directed to a village on its southern confines, at the foot of those
heights which have already been mentioned as extending between Sipan
and Bilejan. You may canter the whole way, for the ground is fairly
even, although broken here and there by mounds of black boulders,
which may represent either minor outbreaks of volcanic matter,
or the sites of steam vents through the sheet of cooling lava. In
places there is a thin covering of marly deposits; and, where these
occur, the soil becomes fertile. But it is little cultivated--only in
patches, and in a very primitive fashion. The village proved to be
Circassian; its name was Kara Ali; a second Circassian settlement,
called Yaralmish, was its close neighbour upon the east. Our track
commenced to ascend, immediately beyond Kara Ali, up the face of the
opposite heights. The nature of these hills was at once apparent from
the character of their forms and from the change in vegetation. We rode
over the slopes of downs, resting the eye on fresh pastures, and with
the song of the lark in our ears. The purple vetch was resplendent on
the cliff-sides. Here and there a white patch disclosed the calcareous
nature of the underlying rock. The village of Demian (raya Hasananli,
alt. 6690 feet) is situated below the crest of the ridge, in full
view of the plain. There we decided to encamp for the night. [233]
July 6.--What a landscape to wake up to! The side of our tent towards
the plain had been left open during the night. We overlooked such an
immense expanse of earth--nude, or veiled in transparent mists, and
quite unconscious of the presence of man! Even we, who were already
accustomed to such visions, had never yet seen the like. Reach upon
reach, in large surroundings, we traced the course of the Murad,
flowing towards us from Tutakh; loop upon loop, we followed its waters
into the dimness of the west, flowing away through the plain. The
contrasts in the lighting were less impressive this morning; but
last evening the river was thrown into pronouncement, and lay like
a parti-coloured riband in the expanse. From vivid whites and tender
greys it became a sheen of gold under the red blaze of the setting sun.
The pass, or crest of the ridge (6870 feet), is close behind
Demian. Among our landmarks, besides Sipan, the Akh Dagh was most
conspicuous, and, although probably less lofty, because quite free from
snow, dwarfed the intermediate mass of Khamur. The dome of the Kuseh
Dagh was the bold feature of the scene in the north; while Kartevin
rose like an island in the plain at our feet. This pass is but the
edge of a deep block of hill country, interposed between the plain
and the lake of Van. The highest level which we attained, during our
passage across it, belonged to the ridge on the north of the village
of Khanik, and was a level of 7690 feet. That ridge was composed of
Eocene limestone, perhaps a travertine, while the ridge behind Demian
displayed the familiar fossils of the widely-distributed lacustrine
rocks. Coralline limestones of Eocene epoch, much altered and hardened,
perhaps by the action of hot springs, constitute the backbone of the
mass; while on its southern side the lacustrine series is represented
by the purplish-brown sandstones of the hills behind Akhlat. Sipan
has burst through the zone of limestone hills, probably about in the
central region; the volcano has been built up upon their debris, and
overtowers their almost uniform levels. Yet the stratified rocks are
little diversified by volcanic outpourings: and only once, namely just
upon our departure from the valley of Khanik, did we ride over such
material, a dark volcanic tuff. It is indeed surprising, the limited
extension of the flows of lava even from such a giant as Sipan. When
we looked across to the mountain from the lofty down behind Demian,
the block of hills appeared to compose an outer sheath to the volcano,
recessing inwards around its contours. And the plain or pedestal of
lava at the foot of Sipan was seen tonguing into the recess at our
feet. Through that valley was winding a little stream, which would
probably become lost in the plain. We descended into the valley, which
supports several Kurdish villages, and rose up the opposite side. From
this ridge to the guardhouse on the southern side of the block is the
wildest portion of this bleak zone. We passed only one village, the
Circassian settlement of Khanik, during our progress from the ridge to
Akhlat. The axis or strike of the limestones is in an east-north-east
direction; they are carved out into deep and irregular valleys.
Extraordinary precautions had been taken for our safety during the
passage of this region. Our escort from Melazkert consisted of eight
zaptiehs, and of the head man of the village of Akhviran, a notable
of high rank in the Hamidiyeh, who had been commissioned by Riza
Bey to accompany us. At Khanik we were met by no less than fifteen
zaptiehs; and this little force skirmished up the heights adjoining
our track, to protect us from an ambuscade. Arrived at the guardhouse
(7560 feet) we were saluted by a detachment of regular cavalry,
mounted on snow-white horses. As we rode down this line of troops,
an individual in civil dress stepped forward and took our hands. It
was the Kaimakam of Akhlat. His servants had prepared tea in the
solitary little building which rises like a beacon from the wilds.
Our further progress was a procession. We were sorry to lose the
cavalry, who were under orders to return to the guardhouse. They
manoeuvred in admirable fashion; and the motley zaptiehs, careering
in all directions, were a poor substitute to the eye. The Kaimakam
rode by our side. But this little touch of humanity was quickly
lost and soon forgotten in the emotions which were inspired by the
unfolding scene. The landscape of Lake Van, overtake it where you may,
can scarcely fail, with a traveller susceptible of such impressions,
to bring tears to the eyes. And there it lies, deep down below us,
streaming with sunlight, intensely blue and intensely pale. How
startling is the change from these rounded forms about us--from
the dome of Sipan, wreathed in cloud, from the unbroken circle of
the Nimrud crater, islands of mountain in an expanse of plain and
hill--to the jagged and snow-capped parapet of the Kurdish mountains,
reflected into the mirror of waters on the opposite shore! But this
evening we miss the gloom which is wont to envelop those mountains;
the clouds are suspended high above the outline of peaks; and the
face of the wall is tinted a delicate yellow, relieved by shadows of
a pale violet hue. The shadows mark the relief of the almost vertical
escarpments, and have the appearance of a long succession of pointed
spears. Among the landmarks along those shores we recognise Mount
Ardos, broad-shouldered above a headland in the east; a blue shadow
in the lake, slightly raised above its surface, may denote the isle
of Akhtamar. The long promontory of Zigag juts out from the Nimrud
crater towards the beautiful bay of Surb, on the opposite shore.
Almost at our feet we see the top of a leafy tree, then another,
and then a long grove. And immediately we enter the deep shade of
the gardens which fringe the southern margin of the sea (5637 feet).