lage of Dessino in precisely the required direction. Our guide still persisted in averring the impracticability of leading the horses (especially those that carried the baggage) over what could be nothing more than a mere foot-path. It was agreed to refer the matter to the inhabitants of Dessino, who might naturally be the best judges of the matter. These latter worthies gave us a ready audience. It was a feast-day; and after their morning devotions, all the wiseacres of the village were collected on the open common. Our arrival put an end for the time to their games and dances, and they gave us their advice with hearty good-will. But our perplexity was now to choose between the conflicting opinions. For while the old fogies smoked their pipes, and declared it was impossible with pack-horses to cross directly over to Cleitouras, "Young Greece" became exceedingly animated, and indignantly asserted that there was not a safer road in the town, as was proved by the fact that the marriage processions carrying the bride's dowry took that way when occasion required. The latter opinion corresponded with our inclinations, and so it was at once decided to undertake the ascent. We took the precaution, however, of engaging one of the youths, who had been the most zealous advocate of the scheme, as our guide. In half an hour we had reached the summit of the muchslandered pass, and sent back our lad well repaid for his trouble. The only difficulty we had encountered was that the path for a considerable distance ran along a narrow ledge of rock or sand, overhanging an ugly precipice. Once, however, it was necessary partially to unlade the pack-horses.

The descent on the opposite side was much longer. We passed on the way a monastery dedicated to St. Theodore or Theodosius, where there were some twenty-five monks, most of whom came out to see us. They were attired, not as ordinarily in long black gowns, but in garments of sheepskin, and wore conical caps. Below we found our way into a narrow but rather fertile valley, passing a couple of villages evidently of Albanian or Bulgarian origin, and thence into that of the ancient Clitor, whence we could distinctly see the hamlet where we were to lodge. J. went on with the baggage and our guide, while H. and I dismounted, in order to explore

the ruins of the ancient city. This we did without difficulty; for, excepting the slight remains of one or two temples, and the half-obliterated site of a theatre, the sole interest is associated with the walls, which are preserved or traceable through almost their entire circuit. Being on a plain, they take advantage of a continuous hillock, along whose crest one side of the quadrangle runs, following its sinuosities. They are protected at distances of one hundred feet by round towers about twenty-three feet in diameter, almost half embedded in the walls. This construction, as far as we saw, was quite unique among ancient fortifications. We followed these walls, which are now rarely more than four or five feet high, for some distance through the cornfields, and over a soil abounding with fragments of broken pottery and building materials. Reaching the khan, we found our companion J. in vain attempting to explain to half a dozen boys, who were offering him a handful of old coins, that he wanted none of their treasures. We satisfied them by buying one or two; but I set more value upon a small copper piece that I had myself picked up on the site of the neighboring ruined city. Our khan was excellent. I am not sure that it possessed a single window-sash; but it was spacious. The whole house, some fifty feet long, consisted of one large room, and was provided with a plank floor. We occupied one end of it, and made no inquiries as to those who ensconced themselves in the other, after once putting an interdict upon all smoking and boisterous merriment, prolonged far into the night.

We were late in getting under way the next morning. The hamlet where we lodged is merely a summer village belonging to a place a few miles distant named Maza, and, I presume, is abandoned in winter. It stands on a small eminence in a very picturesque mountain valley, bounded toward the northeast by Mount Khelmos. We were still in Arcadia; and this morning as we rode, I heard for the first time the shepherds on the mountain sides playing on their pipes to collect their flocks about them. In the fields the farmers were just commencing to plough, and for this purpose employed the same rude instrument that is in common use throughout the East. This agricultural implement, which some, with a

certain show of plausibility, maintain has undergone no improvement since the days of good old Homer, consists of a long pole with an iron point that serves as a coulter, while two bent boards on the sides represent the share. The labor of ploughing, which is done with oxen or cows, is not severe, as the plough merely scratches the ground to the depth of three or four inches.

Our monotonous rides are now and then diversified by the wranglings of the agoyates, or hostlers. Evidently our guide is no great favorite with them, as he has no manner of patience with their stupid blunderings or indolence. If they loiter on the way when separated from us, or are unnecessarily long in saddling and lading the horses, he shows his displeasure by such a volley of oaths as quite disconcerts the poor fellows. One of them, Athanasius by name, came to

me and declared he never would travel again with Nicholas as long as he lived. The guide had been making use of a favorite oath of his, in which he wished that his Satanic majesty might take, not only him, but his father and his mother, including in the same category such of his more distant relatives as he went on to specify. No wonder that the agoyates felt aggrieved. As a general thing, however, the oaths employed by the Greeks are not by any means so shocking as those blasphemous expressions that greet our ears at every turn in America and England. In asseverations, too, the name of the Virgin or some one of the saints is commonly substituted for that of the Deity.

It took us a couple of hours to reach the eastern end of the valley, where the celebrated katavothron, or chasm, is situated, through which the waters of Lake Phonia, after having disappeared in a similar cavernous outlet, reappear as the principal source of the River Ladon. These form a small sheet of water, thirty or forty feet across, and of unknown depth in the middle, where the water comes up rapidly. As the sur

face, however, is placid, the appearance of this katavothron is altogether dissimilar to that of the Erasinus, the outlet of the neighboring Lake Stymphalus, which we saw near Argos.

At the end of three hours and a half of slow traveling we commenced the ascent of the pass toward the Lake of Phonia,

OUTLET OF LAKE PHENEUS.

215

from the village of Lycouria. The sides of Mount Saita were steep, and covered with a growth of pine-trees; but from the highest portion of our path we were rewarded with a magnificent view of the lake. This quiet sheet of water is about five miles long, and oval in its general shape, making, however, a considerable bay upon the west. On every side the lake is surrounded by high mountains cutting off all egress. Should the subterranean passages become entirely choked up, the waters would accumulate until they obtained sufficient force to break through, or attained the height of a pass opposite to that on which we now stood, and which, I believe, is the lowest point in the entire circuit of the mountains. In other words, they would have to rise over nine hundred feet before they would overflow this vast natural basin. The present surface of the lake is about twenty-two hundred feet above the level of the sea. The effect of this alpine scenery, and of the brilliant glassy surface of the water lighted up by the sun, was exceedingly striking, and contrasted favorably with the ordinary mountain landscapes in the midst of which we had been traveling.

During our descent toward the lake, the straggling clouds gradually collected on the mountain tops, and soon enveloped their sides. The moment we reached the water's edge, a most violent rain commenced, for which we were quite unprepared. Coverings were hastily thrown over the luggage, the agoyates drew themselves within their heavy capotas, and H. threw around him an impervious Scotch plaid. But our umbrellas furnished the rest of us little shelter, and the horses could not be induced to face the pelting storm. The rain, however, was as transient as it was heavy, and we soon proceeded along the margin of the lake toward the village of Phonia, over a ledge of rocks full of cracks and seams, which rendered it difficult even for a pedestrian to traverse it. Nicholas being behind, H. led the way, and, by some mischance, strayed from the path, until at length, urging his horse to mount a very high rock, the animal put one of his feet into a hole, from which he was unable to withdraw it. The horse struggled to get free, and must infallibly have broken his leg, had not H. held him near the feet, while I caught him by the head and pre

vented his rising. It was some minutes before the rest of the party came up, and after the horse had made several ineffectual struggles, which we had great trouble in subduing, they succeeded in extricating the unlucky foot. On regaining the path, we proceeded toward the village of Phonia, near which we turned aside through the fields to view the site of the ancient city of Pheneus. It is a peninsula, connected with the main land by a narrow isthmus, much resembling that of Epidaurus. A conical hill occupies the northern part, with remains of polygonal walls around the base. From the top the prospect was pleasing, and the snowy cap of Mount Cyllene, to the northeast, formed the most characteristic object.

We climbed up to the village, perched in a much higher situation, on the side and top of a hill, whence, after a slight lunch, we rode on for three-fourths of an hour to the Monastery of St. George, our quarters for the night. At the moment we entered, the few inmates were engaged in their afternoon devotions. Presently, however, their monotonous tones died away, and a fine old man came to greet us. The monastery was a large one, but not in very good repair. We were conducted to an upper chamber opening upon one of the galleries that ran around the court. chairs; a carpet had been spread before the capacious fireplace, and there were a number of Turkish cushions for us to recline upon. We were more in want of a good fire to dry ourselves by than any thing else. Our monk soon had it kindled on the hearth, and we disposed ourselves to spend the hour, until our dinner should be ready, in chatting with our host.

The room was destitute of

As he himself informed me, our worthy friend was seventyfour or five years old, and had resided here ever since the age of ten. Clad in the ordinary monastic costume, with a black robe reaching to his feet, and a black cap on his head, he presented, with his long white hair and beard, altogether a patriarchal appearance. The monastery, he said, contained but twenty monks, besides ten novices; and he complained that it had been sadly impoverished of late. Its only property consists of lands, some of them bordering on the lake, a great part of which have been for years submerged. The