OUR SOJOURN ON BINGÖL
Gundemir is an Armenian village of considerable size, better built than
is usually the case (Fig. 191). It possesses an ancient church, and
the houses cluster round it, rising up the slope of a little eminence
from the plain. The place is evidently as old as the hills. Several
groves of lofty poplars spring from the surface of the level ground,
which extends in all directions except on the north. One will enclose
a field of cabbage, another fringes a tobacco plantation, with the
large and luscious leaves. Most of the male inhabitants were absent
in their yaila; the women were busy threshing this season's corn. The
head man was present, one Avedis Effendi; and he supplied all our
wants with the utmost zeal. We were glad to be back in an Armenian
village, after our experience of the Circassians at Charbahur.
From our encampment on the margin of such a grove of shady trees
we could study at leisure the features of the plain. I have
already noticed its appearance and extraordinary surroundings
(Ch. VIII. p. 182); and this second visit enabled me to answer some
of the questions which were suggested, but could not be resolved, on
the former occasion. While the ova is immediately bounded on the south
by the block of heights which we know as the northern border heights
of Mush plain, the northern boundary of the whole wide valley--the
towering Bingöl cliffs--are distant several miles from the confines
of this lake-like depression, in which that valley comes to an end
upon the west. The intermediate zone is filled up by hill ridges,
of which the axis is the same as that recorded in the last chapter,
when we were journeying along the valley from Gumgum. It is an
axis similar to that of the plain of Mush. It is evidently a line
of volcanic elevation, being almost at right angles to that of the
stratified rocks. Of these ridges--with their beaches of lava and
sprinkling of oak scrub--two descend and die out into the plain. The
more easterly leaves our village close upon the right hand, skirts
Dodan, and ends in a series of little cones, which push the river to
the very foot of the barrier on the south. Its neighbour on the west
composes the heights on the north of the plain. It comes down from the
uppermost slopes of the Bingöl plateau, and determines the drainage
of the Bingöl Su. It appears to be connected on the south-west with
the sheets of lava which have built up the westerly and plateau-like
boundary of the plain--a barrier which has been eaten into by a deep
cañon through which a stream descends into the plain. The name of
that affluent to the Bingöl Su we learnt to be the Sherefeddin Su;
it enters the ova at the village of Baskan. The Bingöl Su approaches
the plain on a meridional course, bounded on either side by the two
ridges above mentioned, and watering the orchards of Gundemir. It
has almost crossed the ova when it is joined by its affluent; it then
turns eastwards and settles down to a course towards the Murad.
August 16.--It was afternoon before we were ready to start on our
journey towards the still distant outline of the Bingöl cliffs. After
fording the river, we made our way up its right bank, along the
pebbly alluvial bed, which had a width of about a quarter-mile. In
half-an-hour we crossed an outlier from the ridge on the west,
leaving the river on our right to flow through a gorge between
this ridge and that upon the east. Emerging on the further side,
we stood in an extensive depression with nothing between us and
the base of the cliffs (Fig. 192). On our left hand, the ridge on
the west was seen extending in a north-westerly direction to the
very face of the opposite parapet; a conical eminence, consisting
of lava built up on lacustrine deposits, was a conspicuous feature
upon the mass. Its companion on the east had the appearance of being
more isolated; and the prospect in that direction was far-reaching
over the undulating basin of the Bingöl Su. At the Kurdish hamlet
of Chaghelik we again crossed the river, and struck a fairly direct
course for the cliffs. The belt of detritus and broken ground which
extends along their base is of considerable depth. All the way we were
riding over lava, tending to decompose into brown sand. Our track was
indicated on the face of the barrier by a very white appearance, due,
as we found, to the dust of a pink lava. Layers of lava and tuff were
seen in section along that face. The actual ascent occupied nearly
an hour; and it was growing dark as we opened out the surface of the
plateau. We had attained an elevation of some 8500 feet, or of 3500
feet above Gundemir. Let my reader picture to himself the cliffs of
Dover raised to seven times their present height.
The air was heavy with perfume; yellow mullein, ablaze with flower,
rose in profusion from the even sheet of lava. Far and wide it spread
before us, sometimes rising to a barren knoll, as often sinking to
a grassy hollow. In such a faint depression, by the side of a tiny
runnel, we fixed our encampment for the night. The shadows hung about
us; but the western sky was shot with fire above a sea of ridges,
billowing towards us, and buried in the depths of the landscape before
ever they could attain our airy platform. The phenomenon was new;
nor were we able to grasp its whole significance until we had become
familiar with the relations of this uniform tableland to that country
of ridge and trough in the west.
The solitude of the place, and its remoteness from any human settlement
disposed us to receive to the full the spirit of our surroundings;
nor was the mood disturbed throughout our stay on Bingöl. So plastic
is the nature of man that one must regret his confinement in cities,
and his exclusion--which is sometimes life-long--from communion with
the natural world. Such communion is at once a spiritual and a mental
exercise; and the greater grows our knowledge of the phenomena around
us, the more complete becomes the fusion of soul with soul. The Hebrews
copied from Asia her vastness and her essential harmony, and translated
them into their religion and laws; the inspiration has grown feeble
during its passage through the ages; but the source is still open from
which it sprang. One feels that its ultimate origin must be placed in
this country; and that the fables, which are woven around the infancy
of our race, resemble the mists which hang to the surface of some
stately river, but have been distilled from the solid waters which
they veil. The natural setting of those legends are a Bingöl and
an Ararat--the one the parent mountain of the fertilising streams,
the other the greatest and most imposing manifestation of natural
agencies working to a sublime end. And Europe, with her turmoil of
intellect and clash of religious opinions, has need of the parent
forces from which she drew her civilisation, and of which the spirit
speaks to the spirit of the humblest of her sons in the same accents
and with the same high purpose as of yore.
We debated on the following morning in which direction we should
proceed. Where should we find a yaila from which to draw our supplies
during our sojourn upon the mountain? We were as yet a long way west of
the so-called crater, and we were led to hope that we might find such
a Kurdish encampment just below and on the south of its main wall. We
therefore set out in a north-easterly direction over the undulating
surface of the plateau. The smoothness of the ground, over which we
rode for many miles, is characteristic of this extensive and remarkable
tableland, and is due to the slabby nature of the sheets of lava,
which must have issued in a very liquid state. [269] In this region
they are seen to have flowed towards south and west. They support
an abundance of yellow mullein which grows to a great height. The
flowers of this beautiful plant are as delicate as their perfume; and
we did not regret that on Bingöl they take the place of the monotonous
fennel. The mullein is the flower of the surroundings of Bingöl, just
as atraphaxis spangles the base of the Ararat fabric, and spiræa and
giant forget-me-not haunt Nimrud. But violets we had not yet seen;
and here they grew in plenty, on the margin of each patch of melting
snow. Their perfume was like that of our garden description; and, while
the upper petals were mauve, those below paled off into white. The
little hollows of the ground were moist and grassy, having collected a
little clay. Over such a scene without limits a few white clouds were
floating, borne by delicious breezes across the field of intense blue.
After riding for over an hour without any landmark we reached
the summit of a meridional vaulting of the table surface, due
perhaps to the emission of lavas from a fissure. From this point
we could see the western summit of the so-called crater bearing
about east-north-east. It looked a mere hill, like any other of the
irregular eminences. The trough below us, on the east, was seen by
Oswald to slope southwards, and to become trenched by the course
of a southward-flowing stream. This rivulet would therefore be the
head branch of the Bingöl Su. Beyond this valley we mounted a second
meridional ridge, coming towards us from the western summit. The view
now extended along the entire wall of the crater, seen on its southern
and rounded side. Its basin and steep cliffs have a frontage towards
the north, and were, therefore, hidden from sight. A bleak scene lay
before us in the hollow, framed on one side by the ridge upon which
we were standing, and on the other by the long perspective of the wall
on the north, stretching, like a huge rampart, towards the east. Into
that hollow we made our way in an east-south-easterly direction, in
search of the vaunted yaila. After riding over stony and difficult
ground for over an hour, I called a halt, deciding to abandon the
quest. We could see that we had reached a point about south of the
eastern summit, for the outline of the rampart was already preparing
to decline. To proceed further would be to occupy an unsuitable
position for the purpose of exploring the mountain. Our tents were
erected a little north of the head of the chasm through which flows
the Gumgum river. Two zaptiehs were at once despatched with orders to
carry on the search, and to bring back with them whatever food they
could find. They discovered the yaila at some distance in an easterly
direction, but still within reach of our camp. The Kurds supplied us
with milk and mutton; but for flour and corn we were obliged to send
to Gumgum, and for charcoal all the way to Khinis.
We remained in this camp for six days, finding it to be an excellent
situation. From early morning until evening we pursued our work
upon the mountain, visiting the basins on the further side of the
rampart, taking measurements and ascertaining altitudes (see the
two plans accompanying this chapter). It may be best to resume our
results in a single picture, embracing first the mountain, next the
immediate surroundings, and last the features of the landscape which
it overlooks. [270]
The Bingöl Dagh consists in the main of a narrow and almost latitudinal
ridge, with an axis which is inclined towards west-north-west and
east-south-east. The little relative elevation of this rampart above
the plateau, which supports it as a pedestal or base, is the cause
of the insignificant appearance of the mountain, which, in winter,
is almost concealed or merged into its surroundings by the continuous
sheet of snow (Fig. 161, p. 191, and Fig. 176, p. 247). The fact that
it is highest at its eastern and western extremities, and that from
those peaks horn-shaped eminences project towards the north, with
a curvature convex to the inner area, and with a rapidly decreasing
elevation--this fact, together with the abruptness of the face of the
ridge on the side of the north, give it the semblance of the standing
southern wall of a huge broken-down crater when seen from a distance
on that side. A nearer view from the same side destroys the unity of
this conception; the crateral area is broken into two. It is seen
to consist of a somewhat smaller basin upon the east, and of one
rather larger on the west. The two basins, which are both perfectly
open towards the north, are divided by a meridional ridge, which is
joined to the main rampart at a third eminence, intermediate between
the western and eastern summits, and resembling them in character,
although not so high. This medial ridge, like the two horns, dies
rapidly away into the plateau. From the extremity of the western horn,
which opens out in a north-westerly direction, to the recess of the
bay formed by its companion on the east is a distance of about 4 1/2
miles. While the western and eastern summits--the highest points on
the entire ridge--attain an altitude of 10,750 feet, the level ground
just north of the main slope of the detrital fan has an elevation of
9000 feet. On the other hand, the line of cliffs on the south of the
rampart by which the plateau breaks away to the valley of Gumgum are
over 9000 feet high along their edge. These measurements may serve to
define in figures some of the characteristics which I have endeavoured
to describe.
Before pursuing a more intimate and detailed study, it may be well to
fix in our mind some of the leading positions, and to assign to them
convenient names. Our predecessors have given three such names to the
principal eminences. The western summit is called by them Bingöl Kala
(the Bingöl castle), that on the east Demir or Timur Kala (the iron
castle or the castle of Timur), and the intermediate hump, which
is joined to the meridional ridge, Kara Kala (the black castle). I
took some pains to ascertain whether these names were known to the
Kurds, for none of my escort had ever heard of them. The yaila from
which we drew supplies was the most considerable in the district,
and belonged to one Mahmud Bey. This Kurdish chieftain was absent
from his encampment, scared by the presence of Suleyman Pasha,
with his demands for Hamidiyeh, in the close neighbourhood of his
lair. But his son came to our camp, and one of his near relations,
a middle-aged and unusually intelligent man. He said that they knew
the mountain under the name of Bingöl Koch, or, translated, the Bingöl
caldron. They had no particular designation of the highest parts. When
I mentioned the three castles he reflected a little, and then answered
that the western eminence was known in old times as Bingöl Kala;
but with the other names he was quite unfamiliar. I see no reason on
that account to reject these designations. Kara Kala is well adapted
to express the prevailing sombreness of that peak with its dark and
broken ridge. Demir Kala may serve to remind us of what is probably
a historical fact, that the Great Timur, or Cold Steel, marshalled
his armies among these congenial surroundings, and here celebrated
his victories with women and wine and song. The statement, however,
of one traveller that the eastern summit consists of several storeys of
walls, put together by a human hand, must be regarded as fabulous. He
vouches for the fact, and adds that, according to what he learnt, an
iron door had been removed from the castle and taken to Khinis some
forty years previous to his visit. [271] He supposes the fortress to
have been erected by Timur. The manner in which the lavas have cooled
upon the rampart suggests the appearance of such a human structure
at certain points. But the feature is most noticeable just west of
Kara Kala, where the outline assumes the shape of two round towers.
To these names I should like to add one other, for which I have no
authority. Just below the western summit a bold, talus-strewn ridge
extends from the face of the cliff in a northerly direction, rising
as it proceeds into a tumbling mass of lava, and ending in a conical
eminence of the same material. Indeed it constitutes an inner wall of
the western basin. It may not be inappropriate to call this rampart
Aghri Kala, the rough or rugged castle.
The only eminence along the main ridge of a pointed and peak-like
character is the western summit, or Bingöl Kala (10,757 feet). Its
effect is heightened by the rapid decline and termination of the
parapet just west of this position, as well as by the increasing
flatness of the ridge as it extends towards the east after a gentle
descent. At the time of our visit this summit was completely free
of snow. On the north it breaks away with great abruptness to the
basin; but on the south it slopes off into that vaulted meridional
ridge which has been already mentioned during our passage across it
to our camp. The western summit can be reached with great ease from
the south or south-east, or along the edge of the main rampart. The
average gradient will not be more than 15°. It is strewn with talus,
like all these slopes; the actual summit is fairly level, and is
partially covered with blocks of lava. Following the top of the
rampart eastwards from Bingöl Kala, its general character is the
first feature which seizes the eye. On the south it presents an
evenly-vaulted slope, which is continued in an east-south-easterly
direction, almost in a straight line. On the north it is hollowed out
in the form of a cirque, which, bounded on the west by Aghri Kala,
and by Kara Kala on the east, has the appearance of a crater with
three standing sides. The particular feature of the rampart in the
direction of Kara Kala and beyond that eminence is the breadth of
the platform which it presents. At no other part is it so easy to
ride along it, as well as to scale it from the south. The northerly
slope of the shallow vaulting is always covered by a sheet of snow,
which descends into the cirque. The passage from the south into the
western basin lies west of Kara Kala, and is not difficult for unloaded
animals. Indeed it is the only pass across the Bingöl rampart, which,
further east, increases in the steepness of its northern face.
Kara Kala projects from the parapet some little distance towards the
north, at the head of its meridional ridge. But this feature is not
observable from the southern side of the mountain, where the rampart
is seen to pursue its long, straight course. The gradient of the
southern slope increases as you approach Demir Kala, but does not
exceed 23°. The platform along the summit gradually narrows, until
in Demir Kala it becomes an upstanding mass of blocks of lava which
must be climbed, stepping from block to block. The lava, which east
of Kara Kala has shown traces of obsidian, is somewhat scoriaceous
and in places weathers a brick red. [272] The summit is flat and
fairly free of boulders, which, however, are piled in a beach further
east. The level at Demir Kala (10,770 feet) is fairly well maintained
for some distance, and produces the bold effect of the horn on the
east. But the cliff, after turning northwards, soon comes to an end,
being separated from the bank-like continuation of the horn by a
narrow but passable cleft. This long, meridional bank composes the
eastern wall of the eastern cirque, which is bounded on the west
by the medial ridge from Kara Kala. The character of the rampart
in this eastern basin is much the same as in the western cirque,
although more uniform in point of height. From the south it has the
appearance of a straight and gently vaulted bank; from the north,
that of a curved outline with steep cliffs.
Just as Bingöl Kala is joined on the south to a meridional ridge, so
is Demir Kala in connection with another such outside parapet, which
continues the main rampart in a south-easterly direction, far beyond
the limits of the cirque. This parapet is beautifully vaulted on the
south-west, where it determines the drainage of the Gumgum Su. But on
the north-east it breaks away to the grassy ground outside the basin
with piles of boulders which are somewhat difficult to cross. Indeed
it was always a most laborious matter to reach the eastern cirque from
our camp. If we took the pass between the western summit and Kara
Kala, there was the medial ridge, with its beach-like terraces, to
surmount. If, on the other hand, we made our way up the south-western
face of the outer parapet, we encountered the difficult descent on
the north-eastern side, and, when this feat had been accomplished,
we were obliged to ride a long way north before it became possible
to cross the bank which confines the basin on the east. For a man
on foot it is feasible to descend the cliffs of the main rampart at
several points, and a horse may scramble through the cleft formed
by the break-off on the north of the wall of the eastern cirque. But
such an attempt is not less dangerous than the endeavour to lead an
animal up the snow-slope in that cirque. It seems an easy matter; for
the snow extends from the floor of the basin to the edge of the cliff,
which at the time of our visit was free from snow. But it nearly cost
us the lives of a zaptieh and several horses. When the gradient was
at its steepest the snow gave way, and the manner in which one horse
by a series of plunges reached the summit was a remarkable example
of the power of nervous energy.
It is plain from this description that the conception of the mountain,
as seen from the north, is likely to be considerably enlarged and
modified by a visit to its southern side. Instead of a single ridge we
have a series of ramparts, which describe a figure somewhat resembling
an H. The transverse bar of the letter represents the main parapet
with the three summits, Bingöl Kala, Kara Kala and Demir Kala. The two
uprights will correspond with the horns of the basin on the north,
and with the connecting ramparts on the south. A medial projection
should be added to the transverse bar, in order to include the
meridional ridge from Kara Kala. Finally the upright corresponding
with the northern horn on the west should be split into two short
arms. Of these the inner arm will represent Aghri Kala.
At the risk of becoming tedious, I have thought it well to insist on
these features, in order that our statement may enable the practised
reader to judge for himself whether Bingöl ought to be regarded as
a volcanic crater in the strict sense of the word. Before adducing
additional facts, which may point to a negative conclusion, I should
like to mention the explanation which appeared to us on the whole more
probable of the phenomena with which we are dealing. It is evident
that the latest emissions of lava were much more acid and viscous
than those which produced the plateau surface of the surroundings
of Bingöl. If we assume that all these lavas issued from fissures
rather than from a crater, then the formation of such ramparts
in the final stages may be readily explained. The molten matter,
welling up from its original vents, became too viscous to flow
far. It massed in the form of vaulted ridges along the axis of the
parent fissures, or in their neighbourhood. I have already noticed the
rounded nature of these various ramparts when seen from the south, as
from the standpoint of our second camp. The transverse parapet with
the principal summits has the appearance of a long, straight bank,
flanked at its extremities by two similar banks, which project towards
the south like wings. Look where you will, the slopes are gentle,
and strewn with fragments of lava, which in some places have the
appearance of loose tiles. Within the figure, thus formed, rise the
head waters of the Gumgum Su, collecting, with a network of streams,
both from the west and from the east. They combine at the head of
the great chasm, to flow through its shadowed depths towards the plain.
It is true that this vaulted and bank-like appearance of the ramparts
is not characteristic of any of the slopes towards the north. Indeed
the exact contrary is the case. But at this stage of the enquiry
we are introduced to a feature which is perhaps the most remarkable
of all these phenomena, and which it is surprising that none of our
predecessors should have observed. When I descended for the first time
into the western cirque, Oswald, who had been engaged there in taking
measurements with the telemeter, pointed out to me evident traces of
the action of ice. Quite close to the cliff on the south the bosses
of lava within the basin have been worn by a glacier moving towards
the north. Smooth on top, and with an almost flat surface upon the
south, they are rough and precipitous on their northern sides. The
rock is very distinctly striated, the striæ pointing in a northerly
direction. The feature continues and gains in definition as you follow
down the cirque. Between the bosses the ground is covered with turf
and oozes with water, which collects in pools or little tarns. Blue
gentians are found in abundance within these peaty hollows, while the
violets scent the air in the neighbourhood of the snow. Some distance
further, when you are already outside the limits of the cirque,
and have reached a level of about 9000 feet, the moraines commence
to form. We visited this district from the west, and made our way in
an easterly direction across the moraines. They were seen to consist
of a medial and two lateral moraines, of which that in the centre
proceeds from the extremity of the meridional ridge from Kara Kala,
and must have separated two glaciers, issuing one from either cirque
(Fig. 193). The lateral moraine upon the west seemed about in a line
with Aghri Kala; but a branch of the glacier must have flowed towards
north-west, for the extremity of that ridge has been cut down by the
stream of ice. This moraine is so pronounced that it is difficult to
realise that there are now no longer glaciers on Bingöl. On both sides
it is bounded by a lofty embankment of blocks of rock, embedded in
soil. The summit, which is broad, bristles with upstanding boulders,
and in the hollows there are a number of lakes and pools. A stretch
of level and grassy ground is interposed between this rampart and
the medial moraine, which shows a similar embankment on its western
side. A little river, collecting the drainage of the western cirque,
flows in the trough of this grassy depression. The lateral moraine
upon the east is in fact that great fan-shaped bank, which extends
northwards from the horn of the eastern cirque. Again in this basin
a branch of the glacier has diverged, and broken its way through
the cleft in its eastern wall. The floor of the cirque is much more
grassy than that of its neighbour on the west, but the masses of rock
are striated in a similar manner.
The principal reservoir for the ice and snow has been the broad
platform between Kara Kala and the western summit. Thence have issued
towards the north extensive fields of moving ice, while the melted
snow has poured into the hollow on the south of the platform and has
carved down the great chasm. We could not trace the action of ice
upon the rocks in that direction. I do not know whether we should be
justified in dating the disappearance of these glaciers as far back
as the glacial epoch. Striking evidence of the existence of a glacial
period in these countries has been collected by a modern traveller
in the highlands with their marginal region on the side of the Black
Sea. [273]
We are therefore justified in assuming that the abruptness of the
ramparts on the north, as well as the carving out of the main ridge
into cirques, is largely due to the erosive action of ice. Leaving
this subject, I would ask my reader to follow us in an excursion
to the interesting region on the south of the mountain. For perhaps
the most remarkable characteristic about Bingöl is the great plateau
which it has contributed to form; and the features of that plateau
which engrave themselves most deeply into the memory are the towering
cliffs with the chasm on the south.
As we surveyed the scene from our encampment--in which there was
not a trace of snow--the eye was taken naturally to two particular
points. One was a graceful cone, just at the head of the great chasm;
the other consisted of a pile of lava on the eastern side of this
gorge, and some little distance from its margin. It appeared to
emerge from the plateau at about its highest level. It is indicated
by the letter x on the plan. To reach it we were obliged in the first
instance to cross the intricate ridges and troughs through which the
streams find their way into the chasm. But beyond this troublesome
zone stretched the undulating table surface, strewn with stones or
covered with coarse grass. When we arrived at our landmark we found
the pile to be loftier than we expected; indeed its summit is the
best standpoint from which to overlook the country on the south and
east of Bingöl. The blocks of which it is composed are derived from a
lava which may be described as a basalt. They are full of magnetite,
affecting the compass. This basalt is part of a stream of the same
lava, which is traceable to the upstanding crags of the pile x,
as a probable point of emission. Towards the west the flow does not
appear to have extended for a great distance; but in the direction
of south-east it has travelled further, and has produced important
results. It connects the Bingöl and Khamur plateaus, being traceable
as far as the foot of a conical eminence on the latter mass. The
lava from the south-east rampart of Bingöl has also flowed in that
direction, while towards the peak x it has described a curve of
exquisite symmetry.
The view embraces that strange plateau on the west of the Khamur ridge
and the blue lakes which it supports. The slope of its crinkled surface
is towards the plain of Khinis, at its south-western or upper end. So
far as we could judge, the mass consists in the main of limestone,
capped by lava in the south. Descending from this eyrie I rode to
the edge of the cliff, in order to ascertain its height. I stood at a
level of 9240 feet, while that of Gumgum, a speck in the plain which
stretched from the base of the cliff, is about 4800 feet. On either
side, towards the chasm or towards the floor of the plain, the ground
was falling away with stupendous precipices. In the trough of the
abyss lay the Gumgum river, resembling several fine threads of silver.
Our return journey led us past the yaila of Mahmud beneath the
wall of the south-east rampart. It occupied an ideal position, in a
spacious meadow, and on the banks of the principal branch of the Gumgum
river. The chief's tent faced towards us on the opposite margin, as we
rode along the left bank of the stream. The goat-hair canvas, spread
with many supports over a wide area, divided up into compartments by
screens of osier, had the appearance of a roof with many gables. In the
shadowed recesses one observed a medley of luxurious cushions and of
household utensils of every kind. Women, gaily dressed, and unveiled,
although very bashful, mingled with the group of men, collected to
see us pass. The chief's son, a mere youth who had just returned from
six years' residence in a school at Galata (Constantinople), was
pacing to and fro in a remote part of the meadow, a picture of the
out-of-place. Round the tent of the chief, in a wide and respectful
circle, were ranged the much ruder tenements of the tribesmen--mere
pens of boulders with a strip of canvas overhead. The older women
had the weird and witch-like expression which one sees in the faces
of the Highland women in the background of a novel by Walter Scott.
Underlying the lava, and at the head of the great chasm, is placed
a bed of tuff. It forms the bulk of the beautiful cone already
mentioned, which has been preserved and invested with its peculiar
symmetry by a capping of hard lava. In the hollows about its base
yellow mullein grows in profusion, and campanula with its bell-shaped
flowers. Making our way over the col which joins the cone to the
plateau of our encampment, we proceeded to lead our horses up the
slope. But nothing would induce our zaptieh to take his animal with
him; he declared that such an act would be impious on the part of a
believer, for we were treading sacred ground. Indeed, when we reached
the summit, we found an enclosure of stones, protecting a human
grave. It was evidently a place of pilgrimage for the district. Our
attendant prostrated himself on the ground outside the boundary and
took from within it a handful of dust, which he preserved. I asked
him to whom he might be paying so much honour. He replied that it
was the grave of Goshkar Baba, or father shoemaker. The holy man
had in fact been shoemaker to the Prophet, and had therefore been
buried here centuries ago. When I enquired whether he had ever done
anything great during his lifetime besides making shoes, he answered,
"Bashkar yok"--"No, he did nothing else." From this eminence we could
see the basalt on the face of the cliff below x, overlying streams
of lava which were relatively shallow, and were inclined some 6° to
south-south-west. The layers on the western side of the chasm are
also thin, and slope in the same direction, with a gradient which
slightly increases as they approach the edge of the cliff.
It remains to notice some of the features of the panorama which expands
from the summits of Bingöl. The view comprises Palandöken, the Akh
Dagh, the plain of Khinis; Khamur, with Kolibaba; Sipan, Bilejan,
Nimrud. The patience even of an assiduous reader would be exhausted
by the attempt to draw its full meaning from this varied scene. We
may confine ourselves with more advantage to a particular segment of
the circle, taking our standpoint on the western summit, Bingöl Kala
(Fig. 194). I may mention that one day, while we were making our way
in that direction from our camp on the south of the rampart, Oswald
discovered, just behind the actual peak, a large stone with a cuneiform
inscription. It was lying on the ground, only distinguishable by an eye
like his from the adjacent blocks of lava. Over the almost obliterated
characters had been incised the figure of a cross, with a circle
at its upper end. This stone may have served to define a boundary,
both in the times of the Vannic and of the Armenian Kings. [274]
The scene which forms the subject of my outline sketch extends from
east-north-east round to west. The foreground includes the westerly
horn of the main rampart, with Aghri Kala, seen in perspective,
projecting into the cirque, and, just beyond that ridge, a bank of
detritus, probably due to the action of the glacier. The little lakes
on the right of the picture belong to the western cirque, and are seen
to send streams which tend to meet in the distance, and which flow at
the bottom of cañons into the plain of Khinis. Both this series and
the pools in the eastern cirque drain into the eastern Bingöl Su. They
are in fact the highest sources of the Murad or Eastern Euphrates,
and their waters find their way to the Persian Gulf. Looking further
into the landscape, we see the back of that long line of cliffs on the
further side of which lies the village of Kherbesor (see p. 252). It is
an important barrier in a geographical sense, for it constitutes the
parting between the head-waters of the Murad and the streams which
find their way to the Araxes. The outline rising on the north of
these cliffs belongs to a group of limestone hills, which extend to
the north-western extremity of the plain of Khinis, and to the pass
of Akhviran (a, a). In the background the bold profile which looms
upon the horizon represents the extension of the Palandöken heights.
The peak of Palandöken is a well-defined feature; and equally prominent
is the break-off in a cliff-like form of the high ground west of
the village of Madrak. The outline of that high ground is continued
for a long distance westwards (b, b), until it declines behind the
ridges in the west. Between Bingöl and that outline, which we may
call the Madrak line of heights, the land forms are insignificant and
vague. It is that country of rolling downs at a great elevation over
which we journeyed from Madrak to Kherbesor. I would ask my reader
to observe how the ridges in the west die out into that extensive
block of water-worn plateau. Let him follow the outline (c) from a
somewhat pyramidal summit on the east of Sheikhjik; or let him notice,
both in this drawing and in the one which I shall presently offer,
the direction of the Sheikhjik ridge (a), and its tendency to extend
into the watershed of the Araxes. West of Sheikhjik he sees quite a
sea of ridges; but in the middle distance all the forms are flat and
the surface even--the surface of the Bingöl plateau.
Bingöl! the thousand tarns--one grasps the significance of that
poetical name at this season of the year. The feature is largely due
to the peaty soil which has been deposited by the action of glaciers
in ancient times. The lakes and pools which collect the meltings of
the deep canopy of snow would be almost impossible to count. In the
foreground, between Aghri Kala and the horn of the western cirque,
lies such a conspicuous flash of blue water. I am inclined to regard
this particular pool as the source of the Araxes; for although it
be possible that one or other of the streams which rise outside the
rampart may have a slightly longer course, this source is probably the
most elevated of all. But the most interesting of all the features
in the middle distance is the outline, as seen from behind, of the
plateau itself (e, e). Its equality of surface is due to the liquid
nature of the lava--a grey, basaltic augite-andesite--and not to
flows of tuff. In the west it must fall away to a river valley,
separating it from the sea of ridges in that quarter which we noticed
from our first encampment on Bingöl. The outline in that direction
is in some places the edge of a cliff; but at others it assumes a
vaulted form. I shall presently show that this latter shape is due to
rounded hills of serpentine, which have acted as a dam to the lavas. A
hill of the same form is seen much further east, quite close to the
western cirque. Although we did not examine this particular eminence,
it is probable that it consists of the same old rock, representing the
former configuration of the land. The Bingöl plateau merges insensibly
into the highlands of Tekman, and the collective figure may be known
for geographical purposes as the Central Tableland.
But that long break-off upon the west to a river valley--with the wild
ranges, a solecism in the landscape, towering up upon its further
side--is such a strange and fascinating characteristic that, even
apart from its great geographical significance, it merits careful
study upon the spot. Let me therefore take my reader a distance of
many miles and place him upon the summit of a lofty hill at the head
of that valley, just west of the village of Gugoghlan. The position
is clearly indicated in my sketch from Bingöl Kala, and forms the
standpoint of my second sketch (Fig. 195). The hill itself is built
up of limestone--probably Eocene--overlying serpentine, and capped
by recent lava. On the left of the picture you see in perspective the
Bingöl rampart, with Bingöl Kala rising boldly at its western end. You
observe the serpentine hills damming up the lavas in two separate
zones. The break-off of the Bingöl plateau is now exposed in face,
and a conspicuous feature are the cliffs which it forms (e). The head
waters of the Araxes are fanning towards us in pronounced cañons,
deflected at first by the one zone of serpentines, and a little
further by the second zone. But it is the general level of the plateau
surface which in fact determines their new direction, and prevents
them flowing into the basin of the Euphrates. And this level is due
to the massing of the lavas against the bases of the serpentine hills.
Deep down in the valley below you meanders the Merghuk Su, on its
way to the Murad. It soon winds away from its almost southern course,
to thread the ranges, which already commence to rise from its right
bank, with a direction which will probably average south-west. What
a contrast between these ridges and the plateau on the east! They
have the appearance of stepping up to its very margin, for their
axis is about west-south-west and east-north-east. Tier upon tier
they rise, one behind another, extending into the far horizon on
the south-west. Their eastern limit, as seen in the perspective of
the drawing, is the bold mass, like a sentinel, of Sheikhjik. But
north of that mountain you observe the gentler outlines (b and c)
which were so prominent in the last sketch. The abrupt ending of
the outline b--the Madrak line of heights--figures as boldly in this
landscape as in that from the summit of Bingöl. And the way in which
both outlines die away into the block of the tableland is not less
clearly and unmistakably defined.
I might write many pages were I to pursue this subject further; I
must content myself with a statement in a very summary form of the
conclusions at which I arrived. In the first place it is misleading,
and indeed it is incorrect, to speak of a meridional line of elevation
with orographical significance as connecting Palandöken with Bingöl. It
is strange that such a practised observer as the great Abich should
have fallen into such a grave error. [275] The lessons which may
be derived from the landscape of this important region may, in this
connection, be grouped under two heads.
In the first place the fundamental line of elevation is that almost
latitudinal line with which we are so familiar, and which may be
specified as a west-south-west--east-north-east line. The lie of the
country is determined in the principal degree by the strike of the
stratified rocks. Between Bingöl and Palandöken the ridges in the west
tend to die out into a single block of elevated land. Further east this
central tableland becomes split up, and gives rise to mountains rising
on the margin of lake-like plains. Such mountains are represented in
a striking manner by the Akh Dagh; and we have already observed the
commencement of this transition in the outline a, as seen from Bingöl
Kala. But the country on the east still maintains its essentially
plateau-like character; while the region on the west and south-west of
Sheikhjik and the hill of Gugoghlan is continued in all its wildness
between the two branches of the Euphrates, into the districts of Kighi
and Terjan. The great height of the ridges points to the conclusion
that, in addition to the activity of denuding agencies, they owe their
characteristics to a more pronounced or less impeded operation of the
forces which have determined the elevation of the country as a whole.
In the next place it appears plain that, although volcanic action
has no doubt been a factor of considerable importance in producing
the level surface of the districts on the north, south, and east, the
tendency to a strongly pronounced plateau country is independent of
such action. A striking example of this tendency on a very large scale
may be derived from the manner in which the outlines north of Gugoghlan
mass together and die out into the region of Tekman. Throughout this
country, as elsewhere in Armenia, the lava streams have played an
important part, and have done more than any actual lines of volcanic
mountain-making to determine the drainage of the land.
A little incident of our stay on Bingöl may deserve to be recorded,
if only because it furnished us with an opportunity of admiring the
vast extent and strange brilliance of the heaven above us during a
whole summer's night. On the last day of our visit we gave orders to
our people to move our encampment across the rampart into the western
cirque. Oswald and I, accompanied by two or three zaptiehs, proceeded
to the eastern extremity of the principal ridge, and remained there,
mapping and drawing, until near sunset. Before it commenced to grow
dark we descended into the eastern cirque; but the light had already
faded before we could surmount the ridge from Kara Kala, and we became
involved among its crags and stones. For nearly an hour we groped our
way, leading our horses, and coming near to breaking their legs. When
we obtained a view over the snow-sheet and the tumbled bosses in the
western cirque, we searched in vain for any sign of our camp-fire. By
the light of a crescent moon we proceeded to the margin of the snow
at the foot of the cliff on the north of the basin. Even from this
eminence we could not discover any sign. We then rode down the cirque,
towards the open country; still not a trace of our people. The zaptiehs
endeavoured to discharge their rifles; and one man accomplished
the feat after several misfires. We ourselves filled the air with
the reports of our revolvers; but no answering signal came. We were
surprised at the absence of any Kurdish encampment in the neighbourhood
of the mountain. There was not a glimmer of the lights of a yaila
near or far. Was the tale of the frequency of such summer-quarters
on Bingöl a fable, or had the Kurds been scared away by the dread of
Suleyman Pasha, who might require them to make some show for his paper
regiments? Or had we courted an attack by dividing our forces, and were
our servants and our papers and our baggage at the mercy of thieves?
It was clearly not to much purpose debating such questions; we
had no alternative but to pass the night where we stood. Both were
clothed in the thinnest of garments; but our zaptiehs lent us their
overcoats, of such material as they were. We established ourselves
within a circle of loose boulders, which had probably been reared by
shepherds as a pen. The wind came sighing down from the snowfield
in the cirque, and blew through the apertures of the low wall. Our
poor horses shivered and starved. Oswald and I attempted sleep under
the partial cover of a small camp table which we had with us for our
mapping. It was to no purpose, for our limbs became numb. Meanwhile
the moon had vanished; but the heaven was still alight; one could
scarcely see the stars to greater advantage than from the open flats
of such a lofty platform. These last nights we had been observing
the advances of Jupiter to Venus--a stately and not too intimate
intercourse, as becomes gods and stars. Venus, the most engrossing of
all the dwellers in the firmament, a true mother of the inhabitants
of heaven, had been receiving the somewhat distant approaches of
Jupiter, and the wooer had almost mingled with his bride. To-night
they had travelled apart--we reflected upon the mournful omen, with
something of the impertinence of the astrologers of old who presumed
to connect the operations of the celestial bodies with the puny fate
of a kingdom or a king. Pacing to and fro, we realised the paradox of
perfect discomfort and keen pleasure. One of our zaptiehs appeared
to encompass the same result by surrendering his senses to quite an
orgy of ecstatic prayer. When at last the suffused splendour of the
Milky Way became pale, and the first flush of dawn was thrown over the
dim land forms, we emerged from our flimsy harbour and rode towards
the west. A little later horsemen were seen, coming towards us at a
dangerous speed over the sheet of snow and the rocky ground in the
south. They proved to be our escort, wild with excitement, and quite
speechless when they arrived. It is strange that none of the natives
have the smallest conception of locality; they had encamped miles away
from the appointed place. They had been riding all night in quest of
their charge, and had by fortune, as a last chance, extended their
search to the scarcely ambiguous position of our prescribed tryst.