not attempt to walk over such a place now-adays in England.

We passed a village in one lovely valley, in a grove of peach-trees, where we found that every soul, or rather every body, was dead; only one man survived the fever which had killed the rest.

Of all the strange and gloomy scenes that I have witnessed, none have left a deeper impression on my mind than that of the black unfathomable lake of Tortoom. Mountains of dark rock fall sheer down in awful precipices right into these deep still waters on each side. No fish are to be found in this Dead Sea, though perhaps they may retreat there in the winter from the mountain-rills. If the lake was a

It

strange place, the boat which we discovered on the shore was in character with the scene. was the only vessel on its waters, and its builder probably never studied naval architecture in the dockyards of the maritime powers. It was formed out of the trunks of two trees: but as no description would so well convey a notion of its form, I refer the curious to the accompanying sketch. The standing figure in it represents a valorous kawass, who fired his pistol in the air for the sake of the echo, and, on the smoke clearing off, he found that the entire pistol had evaporated too; nothing visible remained in his hand; it

had burst all to pieces. But fortunately neither he nor any of the party were hurt by the fragments, which fell into the waters of the dark and silent lake.

October 1, 1843.-This day I was riding on the road towards Bayazeed and Persia. Hearing some shots, I turned towards the hills lying between the town of Erzeroom and the mountains, and there I saw two or three tents pitched, and a number of officers, servants, and people attending on Kiamili Pasha, who was shooting at a mark with a pistol.

He is the most wonderful shot I ever heard of:

he always fired at a distance of about 250 paces, or yards. Any one who will take the trouble to step this distance in a field or park will see how far it is to shoot with a rifle, and how entirely out of all usual calculations in pistol practice. I went into the Pasha's tent: he received me, as usual, with great kindness, and, after pipes and coffee, I begged him to go on with his shooting. The way he set about it was this: he sat on one of the low square rush-bottomed stools which are always found in Turkish coffee-houses, but which must have been brought from Constantinople probably by the Pasha, as those kind of stools are not usually met with in Erzeroom. He did not rest his elbow on his knee, but pressed it

steadily against his side, took a deliberate but not very slow aim, and sent the ball through a brown pottery vase filled with water, about fifteen inches high, which stood on the other side of a valley, on a level with the tent, and full 250 yards off. I think the Pasha broke two while I sat with him, and made a hole which let the water out of another. His pistols were a pair of very slightly rifled duelling-pistols, about nine inches in the barrel, made by Egg, Great George Street, London. I was so much astonished at the Pasha's shooting, that I asked him to give me one of the pieces of the vase, which I took home with me, and talked to my friends about it. I felt perfectly well when we went to dinner, when suddenly it appeared to me that what I was eating was burning hot, and had a strange odd taste. I believe I got up and staggered across the room, but here my senses failed me, and I remained insensible for twenty-seven days. An attack of brain-fever had come upon me like a blow, as sudden and overwhelming as a flash of lightning.

On the 27th of October I awoke in the morning, but, as I suppose, went to sleep for a while; in the afternoon I fairly came to my senses, and saw my servant sitting on the scarletcloth divan under the window looking at me.