Page:The Nestorians and their rituals, volume 1.djvu/369

Rh had often before eaten with our fingers, the absence of knives and forks was no privation; but as to the quilts I need only saythat we passed a restless night, and did not feel at ease again until we had thoroughly changed our clothes. Hoping, therefore, to get up with the stray caravan, we left the encampment at half-past four in the morning, and in two hours reached the foot of Karajah Dagh, after having repeatedly forded a rivulet which rises here and follows a winding course to the Tcarookhia. The Kara Soo takes its rise farther south, and is another tributary of the Tigris, whilst two or three other streams, springing out of the same mountain, find their way to the Euphrates. We now commenced the rugged ascent, and after crossing a pleasant vale and meadow called Esheg Meidân, watered by a serpentine stream, reached the summit. Here the ground was covered with snow, above which a cluster of beautiful scarlet cypripedia, of an uncommonly large size, reared their gorgeous blossoms. Here we were accosted by four savage looking Coords, mounted on horses and carrying spears in their hands, who stopped to take a minute survey of our party. Finding that we were armed they allowed us to pass without any other molestation than bawling after us to stand. Not feeling inclined to humour them in this instance, we pressed on to a ruined Khan where we had hoped to find our mules and baggage. In this, however, we were disappointed, and on sending to inquire after them at the adjacent village of Kara Bagtcha were not a little vexed to learn that there was not an inhabitant in the place. We were now in a predicament, not knowing whether to return or to go forward, and not having tasted any food since the preceding evening; but this is a slight inconvenience compared to some which travellers in these parts must be content to endure. Whilst on the subject I shall give an instance to the point which occurred on our visit to this same village, on our second journey to Mosul in 1849. It was in the month of November, the weather had been unsettled for several days, and when we left the tent of an Arab who had come to live with the Coords at Kainagh, the clouds threatened a storm. Anxious to lose no time we set off from our resting-place, but had not proceeded far when the rain came down in torrents, the wind rushing through the valley drove it violently into our faces, and though we made every