THE HEART OF ARARAT
Retracing our steps down the side of the cone, we soon regained the
streaming sunlight. I called a halt, and we rested on some rocks,
embedded in snow. Our next task was to search for Wesson; but he had
left his sheltered cranny, and, as the day was warm, we concluded
that he had returned to camp. The Swiss and myself determined to
try a glissade down the snow slope; my cousin preferred to adhere
to the rocks. I was aware of the danger of the glissade down Ararat,
and we therefore planned our course with care. We broke the descent
at several points, made errors on the side of caution, and glided
safely into one of the inlets about the base of the cone. It was
still some distance to the encampment; we proceeded with the utmost
leisure across the boulder-strewn waste. At last we beheld the lake
of snow, and our tiny tent beside it, and the gaunt figures of the
Kurds. These also perceived us, and sent us a cry of greeting, which
vibrated in the still air. Wesson and the dragoman were there to meet
us; my cousin arrived almost at the same time. Our climb had been
accomplished without a single mishap, and all except the dragoman,
who pleaded that he had been half frozen in camp, were pleased with
the day's work. It was twenty minutes past six o'clock; yet I thought
it best to strike our tent and seek a less exposed and less elevated
spot. After a toilsome walk of about half an hour we found some grass
in a little valley, and there composed ourselves for the night.
I had sent two Kurds to collect firewood while we were sleeping; it was
morning before they returned. We breakfasted beside a pleasant fire,
and decided to devote the earlier hours to rest. I was able to avail
myself of a convenient physical habit of being refreshed by violent
exercise. The summit was clear of cloud, and I sallied forth with
the camera to seek a standpoint in full view of the cone. At some
little distance from our camp I found such an eminence, whence all
the characteristics of the summit region were exposed (Fig. 36). The
peak of Great Ararat bore almost due north-west of this point,
that of Little Ararat a little south of east. [82] On the left of
the picture you see the hollow in the face of the cone and the rocks
struggling upwards to its top; on the right is the shoulder, or head
of the causeway, bordering the snow slope on the opposite side. In
the afternoon we regained our standing encampment in the valley of
Sardar Bulakh.
Relieved of the tension of a fixed purpose, we were able to turn with
real enjoyment to the contemplation of the surroundings in which
we were placed. There can scarcely exist in the world another such
standpoint as the platform of the sirdar's well. You never tire of
the contrasting shapes of the massive dome and the graceful pyramid;
below you in the plains the silent operations of Nature proceed on
their daily course. Morning breaks, and the floor of the plain is
shrouded in white mist; the sun rises, and the opposite peaks of the
Sevan ranges are crowned with banks of billowing cloud. Stray films
wander out into the blue vault of heaven, and graze the sides of the
dome. As the day grows, the warm air mounts these sides and melts
the snows, which distil into a white vaporous mass. The ground of the
landscape increases in definition of feature--the rich campagna, the
looping river, the sites of the towns. It is the subtle quality no less
than the scale of the composition which distinguishes this prospect
from other views, similar in character, which are unfolded from the
summit of a pass. And if you turn from the immense expanse and rest
the eye on the forms about you, those forms respond to your emotions
and invest them with a deeply religious cast. This vast fabric, so
harmonious in design, in position so self-sufficient, touches chords
in the nature of man which sound through all the religions, and die
away only when they die. Yet how vulgar appear their dogmas in this
pure atmosphere of religion, in the courts of this great cathedral
of the natural world! You feel that this mountain has been the parent
of religions, whence they strayed into devious paths. To this parent
you would again collect the distracted; in this atmosphere you long
to bathe the populations of our great towns. Our morbid dramatists,
our nervous novelists need the inspiration of these surroundings--the
promptings of Nature in her loftiest manifestations, from which the
life of man can never with impunity be divorced.
In a lighter sense, to the traveller who seeks rest and enjoyment,
I can confidently recommend a pilgrimage to this beautiful upland
valley, and a sojourn among the marvels of this site. For the
sportsman there are partridges in abundance; the botanist and the
man of taste will admire the brilliancy of the flowers which nestle
in the crannies of the rocks. Junipers clothe the ground, and a
plant with spiked foliage like the juniper, and with a lovely little
flower like a star. I have taken a specimen to Kew, and they call
it Acantholimon echinus--a peculiarly appropriate name. Tiny bushes
of wild rose flutter in the breezes; and, a little lower down, the
earth is yellow with immortelles (Helichrysum), which, as I write,
recall the southern sun. The journey to Erivan, by way of Tiflis,
can be performed in luxury; from Erivan you can drive in a victoria
to the foot of Ararat; on the mountain you have need of nothing but
a tent and a cook. The Kurds are well-behaved, and will provide you
with milk and mutton, of which it is a treat to taste. The old lawless
times are passing into legend, thanks to the vigorous rule of the
Tsars. The Russian officials abound in real kindness of disposition;
and, if you can only succeed in patching a peace with the system,
you feel that they really wish you well. We returned to Aralykh on
the 22nd of September after an absence of nearly six days.
The cantonment of Aralykh faces the jaws of the great chasm which
extends from the snowy roof to the base of Ararat, and lays the heart
of the mountain bare (Fig. 37). We were anxious to penetrate within
these dark recesses, and, after a day's rest, carried our project
into effect.
It is a melancholy reflection that nothing is lasting--that the
strength of the earth withers and the strength of the human body,
that faith dies and the closest friendships dissolve. In the world of
sense Time is all-powerful, and nothing escapes destruction at his
hands. [83] This painful lesson is written with terrible emphasis
on the fabric of Ararat, where it fronts the historic river and the
historic plains. Another earthquake, and the massive roof may tumble
headlong into the abyss which now yawns beneath its cornice of snow. I
have already observed that Herrmann Abich was able to remark a lateral
fissure between the two highest elevations in the surface of the crown
of the dome. He suggests that this fissure may have been caused by
the convulsion of 1840, to which the present configuration of the
chasm is due. [84] It would therefore appear that Time has already
taken a decisive step towards the overthrow of the uppermost portion
of the cone. The chasm itself and the subsidence of the flank of the
mountain date from an epoch beyond the range of history. Tournefort,
who visited Ararat in 1701, presents us with such a vivid picture of
the rent side of the giant, that one cannot doubt that the essential
features of the chasm existed in his day. [85] The little monastery
of St. Jacob, which, prior to the catastrophe of 1840, stood within
the recesses of the gulf, probably occupied the same site when it
was first erected in the early Christian times. The reader may not be
acquainted with the story of the catastrophe, and may like to learn
or to recall it in this place.
Several travellers have presented us with a description of the
locality as it existed before those events. [86] Some 10 miles from
the banks of the Kara Su, on the base or pedestal of Ararat, at a
height of some 5600 feet above the sea, or 2900 feet above the plain,
[87] was situated the Armenian village of Akhury or Arguri--the only
village, we are informed by Dubois, which had hazarded a position on
the side of the mountain, [88] and a place which boasted a remote
antiquity. According to Armenian tradition, it was there that Noah
built the altar, and offered up the burnt sacrifice, after his
departure from the Ark and safe descent of the mountain, with his
family and the living creatures of every kind. It was at Akhury or
Arguri--a name which is said to signify in the Armenian language he
has planted the vine [89]--that, according to the same tradition, the
patriarch planted his vineyard and drank to excess of its wine. The
inhabitants would point to an ancient willow of stunted growth,
bent by the action of snow and ice; it stood in an isolated spot
above the village, a rare object on a mountain which is almost devoid
of trees. They believed that it drew its origin from a plank of the
Ark which had taken root; and they would not suffer any damage to be
done to the sacred object, or the least of its branches to be taken
away. The population amounted to about 1000 souls; [90] the houses
numbered some two hundred, and were built of stone with the usual flat
roofs. The settlement owed its prosperity, and even its existence,
to a stream which then, as now, issued from the jaws of the chasm,
fed by the melting ice and snow. It was placed at the open exit from
the gorge, where the trough flattens out into the base. The church and
the larger portion of the village were on the right bank of the stream;
on the left, opposite the church, stood a square-shaped fortress, built
of clay after the fashion of the country. A near eminence was crowned
by the walls of a spacious palace, which served as a summer residence
for the Persian sirdars of Erivan. It was indeed a delightful resort
during the heats of summer. A cool draught descended from the snows
of the summit region; and the little stream supported considerable
vineyards and orchards, so that the traveller, on approaching Akhury,
could take refuge from the glare of the plain in quite a little wood
of apricot trees. The church--said to have been called Araxilvank
(Arakelotz Vank?)--was reputed to have been built on the site of Noah's
altar. It dated from the eighth or ninth century; and to such a height
had the ground about it risen since its foundation, that the two side
doors had become embedded in soil up to the crossbeams. Just beyond
this pleasant oasis you entered the chasm, and, after proceeding
for nearly two miles up its boulder-strewn hollow, you reached the
little monastery of St. Jacob, which stood on the edge of a natural
terrace a few hundred feet above the bottom of the gulf, immediately
overlooking the right bank of the stream. The chasm had at this spot
a depth of some 600 to 800 feet, [91] and the elevation of the site
of the monastery above sea-level was 6394 feet. [92] Parrot, who
established his headquarters in this lonely cloister, has handed down
to us a charming illustration of the place, and a pleasant description
of the chapel, with its walled enclosure and garden and orchard,
the residence, at the time of his visit, of a single monk. Like the
church of Akhury, it commemorated a religious event in the story of
Ararat. A monk of the name of Jacob, afterwards bishop of Nisibis,
reputed to have been a contemporary and relative of St. Gregory,
was seized with the desire to convince the sceptics of the truth
of the Biblical narrative, and to assure himself of the presence of
the Ark on the summit of Ararat by the evidence of his own eyes. In
the pursuit of this purpose he made several attempts to scale the
mountain from the north-east side. On each occasion he fell asleep,
exhausted by the effort; as often as he awoke, he would find that he
had been miraculously transported to the point from which he had set
out. At length God looked with compassion upon his fruitless labours,
and sent an angel who appeared to him in his sleep. The Divine message
was to the effect that the summit was unattainable by mortal man;
but the angel deposited on his breast a fragment of the holy Ark,
as a reward for his faith and pains. [93] Beyond St. Jacob's, on the
same or eastern side of the chasm and on the edge of the precipice,
was situated a tiny shrine, built of hewn stone, at an altitude of
about 1000 feet above the monastery. [94] It stood by the side of
one of the rare springs which are found on Ararat--a well of which
the waters are still deemed to possess miraculous powers, and which
still attracts numerous pilgrims from the plains. As you followed
the gulf still further, the sides increased in steepness and the
abyss in depth, until, at a distance of about two and a half miles
from the cloister, [95] it ended in an almost perpendicular wall of
rock which towered up to the snowy cornice of the dome. Tournefort,
whose description is in other respects fantastic, has used language
to portray the aspect of the upper end of the chasm which would be
true at the present day. He speaks of the terrible appearance of the
ravine, one of those natural wonders which testify to the greatness
of the Saviour, as his Armenian companion observed. He could not help
trembling as he overlooked the precipices, and he asks his readers,
if they would form some conception of the character of the phenomenon,
to imagine one of the loftiest mountains in the world opening its
bosom to a vertical cleft. From the heights above, masses of rock
were continually falling into the abyss with a noise that inspired
fear. [96]
On the evening of the 20th of June 1840 a terrific earthquake shook the
mountain, and not only the shrine and cloister, but the entire village
of Akhury with the sirdar's palace were destroyed and swept away. An
eye-witness, who was pasturing cattle on the grassy slopes above the
chasm on the side opposite to the shrine and the well, tells us that
he was thrown on to his knees by a sudden reeling of the ground, and
that, even in this position, he was unable to maintain himself, but
was overturned by the continuing shocks. Close by his side the earth
cracked; a terrific rolling sound filled his ears; when he dared look
up, he could see nothing but a mighty cloud of dust, which glimmered
with a reddish hue above the ravine. But the quaking and cracking
were renewed; he lay outstretched upon the ground, and thus awaited
death. At length the sounds became fainter, and he was able to look
towards the ravine. Through the dust he perceived a dark mass in the
hollow, but of what it was composed he could not see. The sun went
down; the great cloud passed away from the valley; as he descended
with his cattle in the failing light, he could see nothing within the
abyss except the dark mass. Another spectator has left us an account
of the various phases of the phenomenon, as they were experienced
from a standpoint below the village. He happened to be working in a
garden a few versts from Akhury, on the side of the plain. His wife
and daughter were with him; two of his sons appeared towards evening
and brought him a report about his cattle. Two riders, returning to
the village, exchanged a few words with the party, and rode on. The
sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains, and he and his people
were preparing to go home. In an instant the ground beneath their feet
oscillated violently, and all were thrown down. At the same time loud
reports and a rolling sound, as if of thunder, increased the panic into
which they fell. A hurricane of wind swept towards them from the chasm
and overturned every object that was not firm. In the same direction
there arose an immense cloud of dust, overtopped, towards the upper
portion of the ravine, by a darker cloud, as of black smoke. After
a momentary pause the same phenomena were repeated; only this time a
dark mass swept towards them from the direction of the village with
a rolling and a rushing sound. It reached the two riders; they were
engulfed and disappeared. Immediately afterwards the two sons were
overtaken by the same fate. The mass rolled onwards to the gardens,
and broke down the walled enclosures. Large stones came tumbling
about the unfortunate peasants; and a great crag swept down upon
the prostrate witness, and settling by his side, caught his mantle
fast. Extricating himself with difficulty, he succeeded in lifting
his unconscious wife and daughter from the earth, and in flying with
them over the quaking ground. After each shock they could hear the
sound of cracking in the chasm, accompanied by sharp reports. They
were joined by fugitives, escaping from the neighbouring gardens,
and they endeavoured to make their way to Aralykh. It was morning
before they reached their goal; during the night the sounds and
shocks continued, always fainter but at periodical intervals. This
catastrophe was followed on the 24th of June by a second and scarcely
less momentous collapse. On this occasion a mass of mud and water burst
from the chasm, as though some colossal dam had given way. Blocks of
rock and huge pieces of ice were precipitated over the base, and the
flood extended for a space of about thirteen miles. Not a trace was
left of the gardens and fields which it devastated, and the Kara Su
was temporarily dammed by the viscous stream. [97]
It is to the credit of the times in which we live that no such event
could now occur in Russian territory without exhaustive and local
scientific investigation, while the results of the catastrophe were
still fresh. The task of reporting to the Government was entrusted to a
Major of Engineers, who was ordered to open an enquiry on the spot. His
account was to the effect that masses of rock were precipitated into
the chasm from the overhanging heights; that they were accompanied
in their descent by vast quantities of snow, unloosed by the sinking
foundations of the uppermost seams. A river of boulders and snow
and ice streamed with lightning rapidity down the gulf, buried the
cloister and the village with all its inhabitants, and choked up the
trough of the abyss. The earthquake was attended by the opening of
fissures in the ground, from which there issued water and sand, and
even flames. [98] The mention of this last phenomenon appears to have
aroused the curiosity of men of learning, and to have excited in them
a strong desire for further light. The site was visited in 1843 by a
German man of science, Dr. Wagner, and in 1844 by the great geologist
Herrmann Abich, whose researches are always careful and complete. [99]
These two authorities unfortunately arrived at opposite conclusions
as to the character of the convulsion. Wagner begins by discrediting
the account of the Russian Major, and suggests that he had never left
the walls of Erivan, having lost his travelling money at play. He
considers it absurd to suppose that the mass which destroyed Akhury
and the fragments of rocks which were projected far and wide can be
attributed to the operation of purely seismic forces, dislocating
the crown and sides of the abyss. They must have been due to eruptive
volcanic action, of which he thought he could see the traces at the
upper end of the chasm, the site, according to his view, of one of the
old craters of Ararat. They were impelled through the air by steam
and escaping gases from a fissure in the bottom of the ravine. We
must therefore form the conception of an eruption accompanied by an
earthquake, not of a landslip effected by seismic shocks. [100]
That this theory is open to objection on the simple ground of
probability, it does not require scientific knowledge to perceive. In
the first place an eruption of Ararat is unknown within the historical
period; in the second, the destruction of Akhury was only one of many
catastrophes which were occasioned by earth movements on the same
day. On that same evening the valley of the Araxes was visited by a
violent earthquake, and thousands of houses were overthrown. [101]
It is true that Wagner supposes an eruption of steam rather than of
fire, and favours the hypothesis of vast reservoirs of water beneath
the mountain having burst in upon the molten mass below. But this
ingenious supposition is rendered unnecessary and improbable by the
minute researches of the next trained worker in the same field. Abich
asks how it would be possible for eruptive action to have broken
forth in a narrow valley--on such a scale that huge crags of 100 to
150 feet in circumference were propelled for a distance of over three
miles [102]--without leaving any trace of volcanic ejectamenta on the
adjoining heights and on the slopes beyond. A careful examination of
the disposition and character of the débris, as they were disclosed
within the trough of the chasm, as well as on the surface of the base
of the mountain, established in his mind the veracity in all essentials
of the official version of the Russian Major of Engineers. He observed
that the fragments of rock which are strewn over the basal slopes
before the entrance to the chasm is reached, become concentrated as
you proceed, and are collected into long ridges of boulders, which
issue from the mouth of the gulf. Yet not a single one among these
fragments was found to be identical in nature with the fragments on
the adjacent valley sides. How account for this striking circumstance
on the hypothesis of an eruption from fissures along the base of the
valley? When he came to investigate the origin of these piled-up
boulders, he discovered that they exactly corresponded with the
rock of the seams which are found along the upper end of the chasm,
overhanging the abyss. He was even able to ascribe approximately the
former position of the largest of the crags which recline upon the
base to a site on the left wall of the chasm, immediately beneath and
supporting the snows. From his writings we may extract the following
explanation of the phenomena to which the destruction of Akhury was
due. The upper structure of Ararat had been seriously weakened on the
north-eastern side by the slow but persistent action of snow and ice,
and by the corrosive tendencies of veins of sulphurate of iron. The
earthquake precipitated portions of the higher seams into the chasm,
together with masses of snow. A dense cloud of dust was induced by
the falling rocks, and the setting sun lent to this cloud a lurid
hue. Immense quantities of boulders were hurried down the trough
of the chasm, accompanied by a stream of mud and melting ice. The
course of this composite current was directed upon the village by the
configuration of the left wall of the chasm. As the sides of the valley
fell in, its upper portion became obstructed at the neck or narrow
which still exists about at the point where the little shrine used
to overlook the abyss. A mighty dam was formed by the fallen masses,
and the head of the valley became a huge morass. Further lapses of
rock and snow took place from the summit region, and the heats of
June dissolved the frozen elements in the morass. On the 24th the
dam yielded to the overpowering pressure, and the second act of the
catastrophe was fulfilled.
As a result of this earthquake, the ridge enclosing the uppermost
end of the chasm was found to have acquired about double its former
extent. The height of the precipice had also increased considerably,
especially on the eastern side. The summit remained intact, but the
fabric of Ararat lay henceforth exposed to its innermost core. [103]
We set out at a quarter-past eight in the morning, mounted on
little hacks. The Armenian Makar, who had accompanied us on the
previous expedition, was deputed to be our guide. It took us some
twenty minutes to cross the belt of sand and camelthorn at a pace
of about six miles an hour. Then the ground commenced to rise with
more perceptible acclivity, and we made our way across the massive
base. The still air, and the restfulness of the stately fabric before
us exercised upon us their now familiar spell. Grey clouds enveloped
the snows of the summit region, collected above a veil of tender mist.
We were pointing towards the entrance to the chasm, and we noticed
that, in that direction, there exists a considerable concavity in
the surface of the base. One might almost form the conception of
a flaw in the mountain, extending to the pedestal upon which it is
reared. On either side of us, but more especially on our left hand,
the rounded contours of the basal slopes were curving inwards to a
wide depression, up the trough of which we rode. Is this feature the
result of landslip and of floods issuing from the chasm, or was the
pedestal always weaker upon this side? I am inclined to ascribe it in
part to an inherent defect in the structure, which has been enlarged
and accentuated in the process of centuries. It would appear that the
streams of lava which fed the base on the north-west and south-east
were not directed in equal volume to these north-eastern slopes. Such
a distribution of the molten matter which contributed to build up the
fabric would account, at least in some measure, for the subsequent
subsidence of Ararat on this its north-eastern flank.
As we proceeded, this hollow formation became more pronounced; we
were approaching the mouth of the chasm. We observed how much more
copious was the flora which covers this portion of the base. In place
of the burnt herbage over which we had ridden on our journey to Sardar
Bulakh, we here admired an abundant growth of low and thorny bushes
of which the tiny and delicate pink and white flowers were showered
upon a ground of grey and green (Atraphaxis spinosa). Long streamers
of sansola (Kochia prostrata, Schrad.) bent towards us, and gigantic
yellow grasses rose like spears (Calamagrostis epigejos, Roth.). The
stream which issues from the chasm--exhausted at this season--feeds and
fertilises the sandy soil, and, perhaps, the layers of mud which were
left by the flood of 1840 have not been without effect on the nature of
the land. We were reminded of that catastrophe by the huge fragments
of conglomerate rock which are strewn over the hollow throughout a
considerable area. On our return I took a photograph of the largest
of these crags, where it lay, among bouquets of spangled atraphaxis,
outlined against the sky (Fig. 38). Abich informs us that the fragment
which lies immediately in front of it was incorporated with it at the
time of his first visit in 1844; the mass then measured at the base 285
feet in circumference, with a height of 45 feet. [104] I have already
said that this careful investigator was able to trace its origin to a
site at the upper end of the chasm, overhanging the abyss. According
to his theory, it must have fallen in after the first act of the
catastrophe, and been transported in the course of the second act to
its present place. It was pushed down the trough of the ravine and
over the gentle incline of these basal slopes by the action of the
viscous stream, until that action lost its force when the stream was
freed from the compression of the gorge and radiated outwards over the
pedestal. [105] To us plain people the position of these crags was
a source of amazement, and the Greeks would have made the chasm the
residence of a Cyclops who hurled such missiles at adventuresome men.
At half-past ten we halted at a small Kurdish village, situated at
the mouth of the chasm. These Kurds have erected hovels of loose
stones with roofs of mud, and they can boast or deplore, in the
person of a starshina, a direct official connection with the Russian
Government. It was amusing to see a Kurd in the dress of a Russian
dignitary stepping out to meet his European visitors. He wore a dark
blue coat; a large brass badge of office hung upon his breast. Ever
since the great convulsion the Kurds have haunted the site of Akhury,
rummaging for anything valuable in the buried ruins. Makar explained to
us that we were now standing where once stood the prosperous township,
with its ancient church and pleasant gardens. The woods of apricot,
the rich vineyards have disappeared entirely; it would be difficult
to discover a single tree. Just west of the miserable hamlet you
still remark the deep watercourse which is the principal vent for
the drainage of the ravine. The channel is dry at this season, and is
overhung by steep banks some 100 to 150 feet high. We observed that
these banks are composed of a sandy soil, inlaid with rocks. Yet
the valley, even in autumn, is not entirely devoid of water; here
and there we were refreshed by the sight of growing grass, and by the
sound of little runnels. The trough of the ravine has at this point an
elevation above sea-level of about 5570 feet, while its sides, which
are formed by the cleft in the base of outer sheath of the mountain,
are as yet scarcely more than 200 feet high. It extends almost in a
straight line, and in a south-westerly direction, to the very heart
of Ararat. The flanking cliffs rise and the valley narrows, until
the formation assumes the proportions of a gulf many thousands of
feet in depth, overhung by the snows of the summit region. Imagine
a gigantic cutting, with a length of several miles, at the uppermost
end of which an almost perpendicular precipice supports the snowy roof
of Ararat! Even from this standpoint we could perceive the vertical
seams at the head of the chasm, shadowed walls of grey rock with veins
of orange hue, the higher ledges sprinkled with the first snows of
autumn and half concealed by light, dissolving mist.
We mounted to the top of the cliff on the right or eastern side
of the ravine, in order to obtain a view on either hand. Towards
the east stretched the contours of the upper portion of the base,
clothed with withered grass and strewn with stones. Abich tells us
that these fragments are different in origin and character from the
boulders and stones in the trough of the ravine; and, as we have seen,
he uses the fact as a powerful weapon against the eruptive theory
which Wagner propounds. Looking across the valley, our eyes rested on
a little settlement on its opposite or western flank. It occupies a
higher site than that of the Kurdish village, and may have been about
a mile distant from where we stood. It interested us as well by its
lonely and dangerous position as by an adjacent and isolated group
of trees. It is called New Akhury, and, according to the official
statistics, contains a population of some 400 Tartar inhabitants. It
is the seat of a Cossack station, and bids fair to increase in size
before the next earthquake shall sweep it away.
Makar directed our attention to some fallen gravestones, not many yards
distant from where we stood. They are the remains of the cemetery
of the old Akhury, and among them we admired several crosses with
rich chasing in the old Armenian style. We found them overgrown with
a thick, orange-hued lichen, resembling the appearance of rust. He
told us that many of his relations had been buried in this graveyard,
and he pointed out in particular a group of seven stones. He said
that they marked the graves of seven brothers who had been killed in
the gardens of the vanished township by the attacks of a single snake.
After regaling ourselves with delicious milk and eating an egg or two,
we started at noon on our excursion up the ravine. We made our way
along the eastern side of the chasm, sometimes picking our course
as we might among the boulders, at others following a beaten path on
higher ground. Not far beyond the hamlet we noticed a little spring,
of which the water was trickling over. The next object to excite our
interest was the peculiar formation of the floor of a side valley,
in which we found ourselves at half-past twelve. Throughout an area of
some 350 by 200 yards the ground was perfectly level, like a billiard
table, with a smooth surface of sand and little pebbles. The length
of this round ellipse followed the direction of the main ravine, which
lay at some considerable depth beneath it, and from which the basin of
this valley was separated by a low bulwark of rock and soil. We were
impressed by the sharp distinction between the bottom of this flat area
and the banks which, on the one side, were formed by this bulwark and,
on the other, by towering cliffs, overgrown with grass. The basin
has an entrance and an exit gully, through which the waters collect
and escape. Not a single pool lingered within it at this season, and
it was difficult to realise that this warm and sunny recess probably
owes its most distinctive features to the erosive action of ice.
We mounted ever higher up the slopes which flank the ravine. In the
trough of the gulf we noticed another flat space, similar in character
but less pronounced than that which I have described. Bushes of wild
rose luxuriate on these cliff-sides, and from this foreground of rich
tints and red berries we looked across to the dark and perpendicular
precipices which encircle the head of the chasm. At every lift in the
restless vapours we feasted our eyes on the snows of the summit, and we
remarked the great length and horizontal profile of the summit-outline,
seen between the opening arms of the abyss. Muffled women's figures,
astride of their horses, came winding down the path. They were
Armenian ladies, returning from a pilgrimage to St. Jacob's Well;
foot-attendants held their bridles and picked their way.
At two o'clock we arrived at the famous rose bush and the holy
well. The path has been worn by the feet of pilgrims, who journey
hither from the plains. The water issues from a recess in the side of
the mountain which has been levelled with a masonry of hewn stone. The
overflow nourishes the rose-tree, on the twigs of which are attached
countless little ribbons of rag, shreds from the garments of the
devout. Just beyond these sacred objects you are shown a level site,
overhanging the ravine. Rows of stones are interlaced upon its surface,
a sign for pious wayfarers. Here was placed the little shrine which
during the great earthquake must have tumbled headlong into the
chasm. The pilgrims insert tiny sticks into the ground with the same
little ribbons of rag. The holy water is a talisman against all kinds
of calamities, and it is supposed to attract the birds which destroy
the locusts when they desolate the country-side.
It is a fine standpoint from which to command the upper end of the
chasm, which has here a width of some 500 yards. My illustration
(Fig. 39) was taken from a spot close to the well and the site of
the shrine, but perhaps a little lower down. The site itself has
an elevation above sea-level of about 7500 feet. [106] The camera
has belittled the natural features, and I must ask my reader to
interpret my picture with the help of the reflection that the snows
which overhang these perpendicular precipices are nearly 17,000 feet
high. We penetrated further up the romantic valley, along the bed
of a dry watercourse. Skirting the buttresses of the eastern wall,
we observed that they were composed of a compact grey andesite with
something of the appearance of slate. Seams of a rock similar in
character, but which have turned red in weathering, lend variety
to the surface of these bold bastions; while the dark face of the
wall which mounts to the summit region is scored by extensive veins
of that decomposed and orange-hued lava which spells destruction
wherever it appears. The bottom of the ravine is covered by a deep
beach of boulders, worn by the action of ice and water. Animal life
is represented by a flock of crows or jackdaws, which croak and circle
round you as you advance.
Behind the lofty wall of rock which is seen on the left of my
illustration, in jagged outline against the snows, a glacier
descends from the summit region which is probably the only true
glacier on Ararat, and which I should judge to be gradually
decreasing in extent. According to Abich, the long ridges which
have the appearance of piles of boulders, and which are seen in
his illustration descending the trough of the chasm to a point some
distance below St. Jacob's Well, were composed in 1874 of compact and
dirty glacier ice, covered over with stones and débris. He informs us
that in 1844 there was a direct but deeply buried connection between
this ice and the ice in the circus at the lower end of the glacier;
and that in 1874 this connection had been severed, and the ice-hills
themselves had decreased about one-third in height. [107] On the top
of these ridges he discovered a series of marshes and little lakes,
of which the largest was several hundred paces in circumference. I
cannot testify myself to the present condition of these ice-hills; I
cannot even say that they exist. I did not see any ice in the trough
of the chasm, although it was evident that its present condition was
largely due to ice action, and although we admired a little lake of
glacier water, set like a turquoise in the waste of mud and stones. It
is computed that the actual glacier descends as low as a level of
about 8000 feet--a notable fact when we consider that the line of
perpetual snow on this side of Ararat is as high as 14,000 feet.
We lingered for some little space in the ravine beyond St. Jacob's
Well, waiting for the clouds to lift. But they hung jealously about the
upper slopes of the precipices, whence a mist descended upon us like
rain. The mountain thundered; from time to time the mist was gently
parted, and gave passage to the sun. If we were disappointed of a
clear view of the higher regions, we were at least able to appreciate
to the full the vista down the weird chasm to the fair landscape of
the plain. The comparative straightness of the gulf renders such a
prospect possible, even from its uppermost end. No projecting spur or
interposed eminence obstructs the continuous stretch of the hollow
outlines to the distant campagna of the river-side. On the horizon
were the crinkled mountains in the direction of Lake Sevan, flushed
with tints of delicate yellow and amethyst, lightly shaded with opal
hues. Deep gloom lay upon the floor of the abyss, and only the pools
of blue glacier water caught the brilliance of day. On the open base
beyond these shadows the sinuous lines of dry watercourses led the eye
into the expanse of the plain; and we could still see the recumbent
blocks which once hung in pinnacles above the spot upon which we stood.
Evening was drawing in when we again reached the entrance to the
chasm. We skirt the Kurdish village, we pass a pool of water and
a group of barefooted Kurdish girls. Away on our left are the mud
houses of the Tartar settlement, and the green clump of trees. To these
succeed the bouquets of pink and white atraphaxis, and the scattered
crags of conglomerate rock. A flora of great variety starts from the
sand and among the stone. While we are crossing this upper region
of the base, the sun disappears behind the still, grey clouds; the
blue zenith pales and fades. A full moon rises from the grey clouds,
wreathing the landscape with soft lights. Heavy quiet reigns over the
vast and lonely scene, and the only sound is the cicada's hum. The
low, dark outline of the trees of Aralykh is a mere shadow on the
plain. Nature touches the chords of that stately and solemn movement
which issues in and faintly accompanies the life of man.
SUPPLEMENTARY NOTE
The identification of Mount Ararat with the mountain upon which the
Ark rested is at least as early as the adoption of Christianity by the
Armenians, and may have been originally made by Jewish prisoners of
war. But there does not appear to have existed in the neighbourhood of
Ararat an independent local tradition of the Flood; and the mountain
is still locally known not as Ararat, but as Masis to the Armenians,
and as Aghri Dagh to the Tartars. It is, however, called Ararat
in Armenian literature as early as Faustus of Byzantium, who uses
the name in relating the story of St. Jacob of Nisibis (Faustus,
iii. 10. The name appears to have been wrongly spelt Sararat by the
copyists). The Ararat of Scripture is the Assyrian Urardhu; and the
"mountains of Ararat" of Genesis viii. 4 must be sought within the
country of Urardhu. Dr. Belck has quite recently examined, in the light
of his remarkable researches into the lore of the Vannic texts, the
question of the original geographical application of the term Urardhu
(Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, Berlin, 1899, pp. 113 seq.); it appears
to have spread from a district in Kurdistan, south-west of Lake Urmi,
to the country about Lake Van. It would, therefore, seem that the
tendency of the term has been to travel north; for the Urardhu or
Ararat of the historical period is the province about Mount Ararat,
one of the great divisions in the kingdom of the Arsakid monarchs
of Armenia, and well known under the name of Ararat to Agathangelus
and the earliest Armenian writers. Mount Ararat could scarcely have
been known to the peoples of the lowlands, among whom the Biblical
legend of the Flood originated. Various aspects of the subject
are well discussed by Suess (Das Antlitz der Erde, Leipzic, 1885,
vol. i. pp. 25-92; Die Sintfluth), Bryce (Transcaucasia and Ararat,
edition of 1896, pp. 211 seq.), and Sayce (Dictionary of the Bible,
London, 1898, sub voce Ararat).
The fabric of Ararat composes an elliptical figure with an axis from
north-west to south-east. The base plan measures about 28 miles in
length, and about 23 miles in width. The fabric is built up by two
mountains: Great Ararat (16,916 feet above the sea) and Little Ararat
(12,840 feet). Their bases are contiguous at a level of 8800 feet,
and their summits are 7 miles apart. Both are due to eruptive volcanic
action; but no eruption of Ararat is known to have occurred during
the historical period, and the summit of the greater mountain presents
all the appearance of a very ancient and much worn-down volcano with a
central chimney or vent, long since filled in. I have already described
the summit region of Great Ararat. The estimates or measurements of
my predecessors are at variance with one another in detail; but one
may assert that it consists of two separate elevations, divided one
from the other by a depression some 100 to 150 feet in depth. The
more easterly is much the larger, having the character of a spacious
platform of saucer-like form. The more westerly presents the shape of
a symmetrical cone, when seen from the platform; and is in connection
with the snow-laden and almost horizontal bastions at the head of
the north-western slope. Both elevations have about the same height;
but, if anything, the more westerly is the higher. [108] The reader
will be able to distinguish them in my photograph (Fig. 37), as well
as to observe how they mingle together as mere crinkles in the crown
of the dome. Parrot was inclined to think that the Ark came to rest
in the depression between these two elevations.
Yielding in height to the most lofty peaks of the Caucasus in the
north (Elburz, 18,525 feet), which are visible from the summit,
and to Demavend (over 18,000 feet) in the belt of mountains which
rise along the southern shore of the Caspian Sea, Ararat is by far
the loftiest of the mountains of Armenia, and is over 1000 feet
more elevated than the highest peak in Europe, Mont Blanc (15,780
feet). Moreover, Elburz and Kazbek, Mont Blanc, and even Demavend, all
rise among a sea of mountains, of which they are little more than the
highest crests. The isolation of Ararat is not its least interesting
feature--a feature which I would fain hope is already imprinted upon my
reader's mind. The plains which it overlooks belong to three empires;
the frontiers of Persia, Turkey, and Russia meet upon its slopes.
It has been estimated that as late as the month of May the colossal
mountain is covered with snow to a level of 9000 feet below the summit;
and the appearance of this immense white sheet from the blooming
campagna of the valley of the Araxes is one of the fine sights in the
world. But by the month of September the snowy canopy will be confined
to the dome of Great Ararat; and the limit of perpetual snow on the
side facing the plain on the north is not less elevated than from
13,500 to 14,000 feet above the sea. The extensive depression through
which the Araxes flows collects the heats of summer; and the warm
air from this reservoir ascends the northern slopes of the mountain,
melting the snow to a height which is greater than might be expected
in this latitude. [109]
The best season for an ascent is the latter half of September. During
October there is more chance of obtaining a view from the summit,
which is usually most free from clouds in that month. But the days
are, of course, shorter, and the fresh snow commences to lie. I
should recommend the traveller with time upon his hands who may be
anxious to extend our knowledge of the mountain to adopt the following
programme:--(1) Ascend Little Ararat from Sardar Bulakh. (Good accounts
are furnished by Parrot, op. cit. pp. 219 seq.; Stuart, Proceedings
R.G.S. 1877, vol. xxi. pp. 77-92; Kovaleffsky, Voyage au Mont Ararat,
Moscow, 1899 [in Russian]; Artsruni, Verhand. Gesell. Erdkunde Berlin,
vol. xxii. 1895, pp. 606 seq.; Ebeling, Verhand. Gesell. Erdkunde
Berlin, vol. xxv. 1898, pp. 130-132.) (2) Extend the journey to the
southern slopes of Great Ararat, and thoroughly explore that side of
the mountain. (3) Ascend Great Ararat, perhaps from a point a little
further south than that indicated in my account; and (4) investigate
the condition of the glacier in the chasm of Akhury. An interesting
excursion may also be made to the little crater lake known as Kip
Göl on the north-western slopes (see the accounts of Monsieur and of
Madame Chantre in their writings already cited).
I append a list of the successful ascents of Great Ararat up to
and including our own, so far as I have been able to ascertain them
[110]:--
1. F. Parrot, 1829. Started from the monastery of St. Jacob
(chasm of Akhury) and made the ascent by the north-western
slope.
2. K. Spasky-Avtonomoff, 1834. From Akhury.
3. Herrmann Abich, 1845. From Sardar Bulakh.
4. H. D. Seymour, 1845. (From New Akhury?).
5. J. Khodzko, N. V. Khanikoff, and others, 1850. From Sardar
Bulakh.
6. R. Stuart and others, 1856. From Bayazid.
7. J. Bryce, 1876. From Sardar Bulakh.
8. G. P. Baker, 1878. From Sardar Bulakh.
9. Sivoloboff, 1882.
10. E. Markoff, 1888. From Sardar Bulakh.
11. Semenoff, 1888 (?).
12. Raphalovich and others, 1889. From Sardar Bulakh.
13. T. G. Allen and W. L. Sachtleben (1892?). From Bayazid.
14. Postukhoff, 1893. From Sardar Bulakh.
15. H. B. Lynch, H. F. B. Lynch, and Rudolph Taugwalder, 1893.
From Sardar Bulakh.