M.-It is very easy to learn. Will you make the trial?

B.-He does not wish to work. He had rather steal. K.-He speaks the truth. It would be very difficult, and take a long time, to get what we want by working for it; but by robbing a village, we can get a great deal of property in a single night.

M.-But you are liable to be killed in these affrays.

K.-Suppose we are killed. We must die some time, and what is the difference of dying now or a few days hence? When we rob a village, we go in large parties upon horses, surprise the villagers when they are asleep, and escape with their property before they are ready to defend themselves. If pursued by an army, we strike our tents and flee to our strongholds in the mountains.

M.-Why do you not come and rob these villages, as you used to do?

B. They could not live if driven out of Persia. They fear the Persians.

K. We should have no other place to winter our flocks; so we give the Persians some presents, and keep at peace with them.

M.-I wish to visit your tribe. How would they treat me?

K.-Upon my eyes, they would do everything for

you.

M.-But you say they are thieves and murderers. Perhaps they would rob and kill me. K.-No, no; they wish to have

you come, but

you

are not willing. We never rob our friends. You come to do good, and no one would hurt you.

M.-But many of them do not know me.

K.-They have all heard of you, and would treat you with the greatest kindness if you should visit them.

CHAPTER II.

Practicability of visiting the Mountain Nestorians-Journey to Constantinople-Storm in the Mountains-Journey to Mesopotamia, Diarbékir, and Mardîn-Providential Escape.

A BROTHER of the Nestorian patriarch, who visited us at Ooroomiah, and a Koordish chief whom I had seen in his castle at Burdasoor, had expressed the opinion that my professional character would procure me a safe passport to any part of the Koordish Mountains; and, from what I had learned in my frequent intercourse with the Koords, I had reason to believe that I might safely pass through the Koordish territory and enter the country of the Independent Nestorians.

My own impressions were that I should be able to enter the country of the Independent Nestorians from the Persian frontier, and I advised this plan. But this was not assented to, and, in pursuance of the instructions of the Board to proceed by way of Mesopotamia, I set out from Ooroomiah on the 1st of April, 1839, for Erzeroom, where I had proposed to meet my expected associate, the Rev. Mr. Homes, of Constantinople, who was to be temporarily associated with me in this enterprise.

On my arrival at Salmas, I received a letter from him, apprizing me that the brethren at Constantinople had decided against his entering upon the tour, under

the apprehension that my late afflictions would put it out of my power to fulfil the plans of the Board in the formation of a permanent station. I looked upon this as another among the many indications of Providence which had come before us, in favour of my plan of entering the mountains from the Persian frontier. I wrote to our mission for advice, repeating my conviction of the importance of the measure I had before urged upon them, of entering the mountains before proceeding to Mesopotamia. The political state of the latter country was mentioned as one consideration in favour of this course. My letter was also accompanied by the assurance of the governor of Salmas, that he would do everything to secure the success of the enterprise, and that he did not doubt but the facilities he could furnish would enable me to go and return in safety. But still there was not a majority in the mission in favour of my entering the mountains, and I was advised to proceed to join Mr. Homes, and upon the proposed tour in Mesopotamia.

enter

I accordingly proceeded with as much expedition as possible to Constantinople. An unusual quantity of snow had fallen late in the season, and my journey proved one of extreme difficulty and of no little peril. For more than two hundred miles I found the snow from two to three or four feet in depth, although it was the middle of April when I crossed this elevated portion of Armenia. On the great plain at the foot of Mount Ararat we encountered one of the most severe storms of snow I had ever experienced, and came near perishing in the mountains beyond, where the storm

met us with increased fury. For more than twenty miles of this dreary road there was not a single human habitation. Our guide, about midway, became so much blinded by the snow that he could not keep the road, and I was obliged to take his place, and trust to the recollection of my former journey four years before, and the occasional traces of the path, which was here and there swept bare by the driving wind. As we began to descend the mountains on the opposite side, where the wind had not done us this important service, I was obliged to walk several miles, tracing the narrow path in the deep snow with my feet. I could only determine when I was out of the old beaten path, which lay beneath the new-fallen snow, by the depth to which I sunk in the frosty element. Our horses also became almost buried in the snow the moment they stepped out of the road.

While crossing the plain near the head-waters of the Euphrates, where Xenophon and the Ten Thousand suffered so much in their memorable retreat, my Nestorian attendant, and a pilgrim who had joined us, became nearly blind from the continued intense glare of the snow. This and a severe storm detained us two days at Moolah-Sooleiman, where we were most hospitably entertained in a stable, with forty or fifty head of horned cattle, horses, donkeys, and fowls, while the sheep occupied another apartment in the same house. In these and other particulars I found a striking coincidence with the experience of the brave Ten Thousand; and the dwellings and habits of the people were essentially the same as those described by Xenophon more