No. XV.-Chambers' Miscellany. Cheevers' Wanderings. - Bogue's Guide.-Durbin's Observations.-De Saussure's Narrative of his Ascent of Mont Blanc.-Albert Smith's ditto.

No. XVI.- Chambers' Papers.

Harper's Magazine. Discovery and Adventure in the Polar Seas and Regions.

No. XVII.-Spencer's Travels. Brace's Hungary in 1851.- Paget's Travels.-Henningsen's Past and Future of Hungary.

No. XVIII.—Jenkins' Narrative of Wilkes' Expedition. Chambers' Papers.

No.

No.

XIX.-Maxwell's Czar, etc.-Stephens' Travels.

XX. Bartlett's Glimpses of Egypt.-Olin's Travels-Brande's Encyclopedia.

No. XXI.-Durbin's Observations.

Household Words.

Chambers' Miscellany.

Dickens'

No. XXII.-De Vere's Sketches of Greece and Turkey.-Durbin.-Letters of Lady Mary Wortley Montague. -Adolph's Five Quarters of the Globe. No.XXIII.—Malcolm's Travels. - De Ward's India and the Hindoos. Forbes' Oriental Memoirs.

No. XXIV. Sidney's Three Colonies of Australia.-Harper's Magazine.Chambers' Miscellany.-Colonel Mundy's Our Antipodes,

PREPARATIONS.-Bedouin Arabs-Ancient Nineveh-Akre-Great Assyrian plain-Syriac Christians-Khoordish mountains-Unwelcome guests Night alarm-Mountain robbersPerilous situation-Consolations of religion-The council-Threats-Fresh perils-A friend in need-The great "hakim"-Khoordish dandy-Explanations-Extraordinary mountain scenery-Christian village-Return-Restitution.

In the Spring of 1851, the Rev. Mr. Marsh, the American missionary, then resident at Mosul, set out from that place in company with the Rev. Dr. Leonard Bacon, of New Haven, Conn., and his son Leonard, on a journey across the country for Oroomiah. Mosul, we here observe, is a large, gloomy, ancient-looking town in Asiatic Turkey, some five hundred miles. northeast of Jerusalem, standing on the west bank of the Tigris, nearly opposite the ruins of ancient Nineveh. Oroomiah is near two hundred miles from it, in a northeasterly direction, in the western part of Persia; it is particularly noted as the birthplace of Zoroaster, the founder of the ancient Magian religion. Between the two places intervene the lofty mountains and desert plains of Khoordistan, inhabited by the wildest and most rapacious robber tribes. The narrative of the perilous situation in which the party was placed, is here related in the words of the Rev. Dr. Bacon.

After experiencing a full share of the hinderances which necessarily fall to the lot of travelers in this country, we succeeded in commencing our journey from Mr. Marsh's house, on Wednesday, May 21, at an hour before sunset. Our party consisted of Mr. Marsh, myself, my son, and Khudr (my hired man) Ablahad-a boy employed by Mr. Marsh-and the muleteers, of whom we hired our animals. We had at last yielded to the importunity of Khudr and the representations of our friends as to the universal practice of travelers, and had permitted him to purchase two guns and a pair of pistols, to be carried with us on our journey. Arms, in such a case, are for show, and not for use. A company traveling without arms, and without a military escort, will find themselves at the mercy of any roving cavalier, who happens to meet them on the plains, with sword at his side and pistol in his girdle, or even with the long spear, which in the hands of a mounted Arab, is so formidable a weapon to the defenseless. The Bedouin robbers never attack an armed party, unless they can make the attack with such force as shall put resistance out of the question; and then, if it be offered, they will both plunder and kill. During the whole of our journey from Scanderun (near Aleppo), to Mosul, we had ordinarily no other arms for our defense than the rusty musket or two which our muleteers carried for their own protection. When more seemed necessary, we obtained a hired guard, or a Turkish military escort. In this case, additional weapons were thought to be a preferable substitute to either. Having crossed the Tigris by a miserable ferry-boat, we passed the mounds where Nineveh once stood, and arriving at a village of mud hovels, we mounted a roof, and slept till early morning. Resuming our march, we passed several villages of seemingly industrious Yessides, or devil worshipers, and after five hours' travel, rested at one of them for refreshment. Again, at noon, we halted for dinner and sleep, beneath shady trees, by the side of an artificial streamlet. At half-past seven we encamped for the night by a fountain near one of the numerous mounds which are supposed to mark the habitations of ruined cities. The next morning five hours' riding, brought us at eight o'clock to Akre, which seemed to realize all I had ever read of oriental beauty. The town, embowered among vineyards and gardens, and embellished with fig trees and pomegranates, whose scarlet blossoms and purple fruit glowing with beauty, fills the narrow gap which gives admittance to the mountains of Khoordistan. But among the dwellings, ever dirty and disgusting in the East, not one would have been thought decent enough for the humblest New England family. Here we were compelled to wait till Monday, as we had to hire fresh animals to carry us to Oroomiah, and our new muleteers, stiff and independent Kurds, would neither abate their price nor be persuaded to hasten away on Saturday. We endeavored, therefore, that day, to recover from the fatigue of our hurried journey across the great Assyrian plain by such slumbers as the blood-thirsty enemies of human sleep would permit. The next morning we attended the sunrise worship of the Jacobite christians, thirty families of whom dwell in Akre, in a church excavated from the mountain side. The service, a faint and dying echo of the christianity which was proclaimed here in the primitive ages, was conducted in the ancient Syrian, a language equally unknown to

priests and deacons, congregation and visitors. In the shaded garden of a jacobite deacon, Mr. Marsh and our two servants had much conversation in the heat of the day about Protestant opinion and practices with a little company of Jacobites. We hoped to reach Oroomiah in six days from Akre, as we knew the journey had been recently accomplished in this time. On Monday morning, the sun already shining, we emerged from the village, and began to scale the first of the Khoordish mountains. Slowly mounting the rugged channel, a wilderness of mountains, capped with snow, lay before, while behind us, the Tigris, gleaming here and there in the sunlight, penetrated the Assyrian plain below. After climbing a still higher ridge, the mountains seemed grander and more desolate than before. We succeeded in crossing the river Zab that night, but our muleteers refused crossing till next morning.

Soon after leaving Akre we had been joined by a small party of respectable looking Khurds with two donkeys and a mule carrying merchandise. Though we feared delay from this addition to our company, our muleteers obviously preferred it, and would not be urged to hasten their speed. The next morning various delays were interposed to our departure, and it was not till we had exhibited a formidable looking document from the Pooha of Mosul, entitling us to particular consideration, that our muleteers would lay aside their truculent and quarrelsome demeanor. After seven hours' laborious progress, we rested for the night at a hospitable village named Beyeh. Instead of pitching our tent and sleeping under the canvass, we spread our beds on the roof of a house; and after committing ourselves and the dear and dis-· tant objects of our affection to the mercies of a covenant God, we lay down to sleep with the everlasting mountains around us, and with the starry host watching in the tranquil, cloudless sky above us.

The house, which gave us its little flat roof for a resting-place, was built against the hill side, so that on the rear it was not more than four feet above the ground, and a projecting rock conveniently near served us instead of ladder or staircase. That our baggage might be safe from nocturnal pillagers and "snatchers up of unconsidered trifles," and that we and our men might sleep without any anxiety on that score, we hired an old man of the village to keep watch on the roof through the night.

In the course of the night Mr. Marsh was wakened by a low sound of voices in a kind of suppressed conversation. Raising himself a little from the pillow, and propping himself on his elbow, he saw in the starlight several men he thinks there were six-stealthily approaching the house toward one of the corners where the roof came nearest to the ground. Observing that he was awake, they suddenly stopped, and after exchanging a few whispers, one of them came upon the roof with his gun in his hand, and without giving any answer to Mr. Marsh, who addressed him in Arabic-to him probably an unknown tongue-he entered into conversation in a low voice with our sentinel, who appears to have been asleep, and just then to have waked from his slumber. By this time I had begun to be aware that something was going on around me; and Mr. M. spoke to me and told me that there was a man upon the roof. Our unwelcome visitor soon descended and went off with his

companions. Khudr, who had been waked from a profound and well-earned sleep, and who, like the rest of us, was not without alarm at what we had seen, inquired of our sentinel as to the meaning of all this. His report to us was these were men of the village, who, returning home at a late hour, and perceiving that there had been an arrival of strangers, were curious to inquire about us. Satisfied with this explanation, we slept on till morning.

But in the morning, when we were just ready to go on our way, our old watchman told us another story. The men, he now said, were from the next village on our road. They came with the intention of killing us, and were hindered from executing their purpose only because we were under his protection, and in relations of hospitality with his village. He added that he had given us a different account in the night because he was unwilling to alarm us. What were we to do in these circumstances? The man, according to his own account, had no scruple about speaking falsehood when falsehood was necessary to what he conceived to be a good end. Whether the story of the night, or that of the morning, or some other story yet to be told, was the true one, who could decide? There was another road which would add a day to the length of our journey, but that it would be safer than the direct and more practicable route, none could assure us. At the next village was an agha, from whom, as we had been told at Akre, it would be important to obtain a letter. To him we were expecting to present our letter from the Pooha of Mosul, with a request for such an escort as might be necessary for our safety. After consultation with the muleteers and the others in our caravan, finding that in their opinion our nocturnal visitors were men of Biyeh, we determined on proceeding, and hired our old men to go with us and present us to the agha.

At the distance of about two hours from Biyeh, our road, which for some time had been a narrow path between a steep ascent on one side and the steeper bank of a rivulet on the other, brought us to the base of a projecting ledge of rocks, where an armed party of six men was waiting to meet us. They first addressed our guide, and seemed disposed to quarrel with him for having taken us under his protection. It was explained to them that we were going to the agha; but after a brief conversation between them on one side, and the muleteers and Khudr on the other, they refused to let us pass without a present, or bukhshish, of fifty piasters, a little more than two dollars. This we consented to given them; glad to escape at so cheap a rate; but we stipulated with them and they accepted our proposal, that in return for our bukhshish they should escort us to the agha. But here arose a new difficulty. We had not so much money in our pockets, and all that we and Khudr could make out was less than twenty piasters. The remainder of our traveling money was packed away among our luggage. We feared to unload a mule in the presence of such persons, whose forbearance was not likely to be proof against much temptation. Our proposal to pay a part of the money in advance and the remainder on our arrival at the agha's house, was fiercely rejected, and while we were consulting for a moment among ourselves, they hastily primed and cocked their guns; three of them placed themselves in the narrowest part of the pass before us, and the other three