variety of guns, spears, and other formidable weapons, I declared that I was going to hunt wild boars in a neighbouring village, and floated down the Tigris on a small raft constructed for my journey. I was accompanied by Mr. Ross, a British merchant of Mosul*, my Cawass, and a servant.

At this time of the year more than five hours are required to descend the Tigris, from Mosul to Nimroud. It was sunset before we reached the Awai, or dam across the river. We landed and walked to the village of Naifa. No light appeared as we approached, nor were we even saluted by the dogs, which usually abound in an Arab village. We had entered a heap of ruins. I was about to return to the raft, upon which we had made up our minds to pass the night, when the glare of a fire lighted up the entrance to a miserable hovel. Through a crevice in the wall, I saw an Arab family crouching round a heap of half-extinguished embers. The dress of the man, the ample cloak and white turban, showed that he belonged to one of the Arab tribes, which cultivate a little land on the borders of the desert, and are distinguished, by their more settled habits, from the Bedouins. Near him were three women, lean and haggard, their heads almost concealed in black handkerchiefs, and the rest of their persons enveloped in

* Mr. Ross will perhaps permit me to acknowledge in a note, the valuable assistance I received from him, during my labours in Assyria. His knowledge of the natives, and intimate acquaintance with the resources of the country, enabled him to contribute much to the success of my undertaking; whilst to his friendship I am indebted for many pleasant hours, which would have been passed wearily in a land of strangers.

the striped aba. Some children, nearly naked, and one or two mangy greyhounds completed the group. As we entered all the party rose, and showed some alarm at the sudden appearance of strangers. The man, however, seeing that we were Europeans, bid us welcome, and spreading some corn-sacks on the ground, invited us to be seated. The women and children retreated into a corner of the hut. Our host, whose name was Awad or Abd-Allah, was a sheikh of the Jehesh. His tribe had been plundered by the Pasha, and was now scattered in different parts of the country; he had taken refuge in this ruined village. He told us that owing to the extortions and perfidy of Keritli Oglu, the villages in the neighbourhood had been deserted, and that the Arab tribe of Abou Salman had moved from the plain of Nimroud, which they usually inhabited, to the south of the Zab, and had joined with the Tai in their marauding excursions into the country on this side of the river. The neighbourhood, he said, was consequently insecure, and the roads to Mosul almost closed. Awad had learnt a little Turkish, and was intelligent and active. Seeing, at once, that he would be useful, I acquainted him with the object of my journey; offering him the prospect of regular employment in the event of the experiment proving successful, and assigning him regular wages as superintendent of the workmen. He had long been acquainted with the ruins, and

แ

entertained me with tra

ditions connected with them. "The palace," said he,

was built by Athur, the Kiayah, or lieutenant of

Nimrod. Here the holy Abraham, peace be with him! cast down and brake in pieces the idols which were worshipped by the unbelievers. The impious Nimrod, enraged at the destruction of his gods, sought to slay Abraham, and waged war against him. But the prophet prayed to God, and said, 'Deliver me, O God, from this man, who worships stones, and boasts himself to be the lord of all beings,' and God said to him, 'How shall I punish him?' And the prophet answered, To Thee armies are as nothing, and the strength and power of men likewise. Before the smallest of thy creatures will they perish.' And God was pleased at the faith of the prophet, and he sent a gnat, which vexed Nimrod night and day, so that he built himself a room of glass in yonder palace, that he might dwell therein, and shut out the insect. But the gnat entered also, and passed by his ear into his brain, upon which it fed, and increased in size day by day, so that the servants of Nimrod beat his head with a hammer continually, that he might have some ease from his pain; but he died after suffering these torments for four hundred years."*

Such are the tales to this day repeated by the

This and similar traditions are found in a work called Kusset el Nimroud (Stories of Nimrod), which Rich represents the inhabitants of the villages near the ruins as reading during the winter nights. Although there is no one in these days within some miles of the place who possesses the work, or could read it if he did, the tales it contains are current amongst the Arabs of the neighbourhood. I heard of several MSS. of the Kusset at Mosul; but as they are classed amongst religious volumes, I was unable to procure a copy. (See note in chap. xxi. of Sale's Koran, for a story somewhat similar to that in the text.)

Arabs who wander round the remains of a great city; which, by their traditions, they unwittingly help to identify.

Awad volunteered to walk, in the middle of the night, to Selamiyah, a village three miles distant, and to some Arab tents in the neighbourhood, to procure men to assist in the excavations.

I had slept little during the night. The hovel in which we had taken shelter, and its inmates, did not invite slumber; but such scenes and companions were not new to me: they could have been forgotten, had my brain been less excited. Hopes, long cherished, were now to be realised, or were to end in disappointment. Visions of palaces underground, of gigantic monsters, of sculptured figures, and endless inscriptions, floated before me. After forming plan after plan for removing the earth, and extricating these treasures, I fancied myself wandering in a maze of chambers from which I could find no outlet. Then again, all was reburied, and I was standing on the grass-covered mound. Exhausted, I was at length sinking into sleep, when hearing the voice of Awad, I rose from my carpet, and joined him outside the hovel. The day already dawned; he had returned with six Arabs, who agreed for a small sum to work under my direction.

The lofty cone and broad mound of Nimroud broke like a distant mountain on the morning sky. But how changed was the scene since my former visit! The ruins were no longer clothed with verdure and many-coloured flowers; no signs of habi

tation, not even the black tent of the Arab, was seen upon the plain. The eye wandered over a parched and barren waste, across which occasionally swept the whirlwind, dragging with it a cloud of sand. About a mile from us was the small village of Nimroud, like Naifa, a heap of ruins.

Twenty minutes' walk brought us to the principal mound. The absence of all vegetation enabled me to examine the remains with which it was covered. Broken pottery and fragments of bricks, both inscribed with the cuneiform character, were strewed on all sides. The Arabs watched my motions as I wandered to and fro, and observed with surprise the objects I had collected. They joined, however, in the search, and brought me handfuls of rubbish, amongst which I found with joy the fragment of a bas-relief. The material on which it was carved had been exposed to fire, and resembled, in every respect, the burnt gypsum of Khorsabad. Convinced from this discovery that sculptured remains must still exist in some part of the mound, I sought for a place where excavations might be commenced with a prospect of success. Awad led me to a piece of alabaster which appeared above the soil. We could not remove it, and on digging downward, it proved to be the upper part of a large slab. I ordered all the men to work around it, and they shortly uncovered a second slab to which it had been united. Continuing in the same line, we came upon a third; and, in the course of the morning, laid bare ten more, the whole forming a square, with one stone missing at the N.W.