CHAPTER V.
Loquacious Barber—Unthrifty Travellers—Mount Olympus—Early Rising—Aspect of the Country at Dawn—Peasants and Travellers—Fine View—Peculiarity of Oriental Cities—Stunted Minarets—Plains and Precipices—Halting-Place—Difficulty of Ascending the Mountain—Change of Scenery—Repast in the Desart—Civil Guide—Appearance of the Mount—Snows and Sunshine—Fatiguing Pilgrimage—Dense Mists—Intense Cold—Flitting Landscape—The Chibouk—The Giant’s Grave—The Roofless Hut—Lake of Appollonia—The Wilderness—Dangerous Descent—Philosophic Guide—Storm among the Mountains—The Guide at Fault—Happy Discovery—Tempest.
I remember to have heard an anecdote of a facetious barber, who, while operating upon the chin of a customer, commenced catechising his victim on the subject of his foreign travel.
“You are an army gentleman, I believe, Sir; pray were you in Egypt?” “Yes.” “Really! then perhaps you saw the Pyramids?” “Yes.” “Travelled a little in Greece, perhaps, Sir?” “A little.” “Pleasant place, Greece, I’ve been told; Athens, and all that. I dare say you fought in the Peninsula?” “Once or twice.” “Charming country, Spain, I’ve heard, Sir; indeed I’ve read Gil Blas, which gives one a very pretty notion of it. Plenty of oranges in Portugal, Sir?” “Plenty.” “Vastly nice, indeed, quite a favourite fruit of mine. Did you ever serve in the East or West Indies, Sir?” “In both.” “Really! why you’re quite a traveller. Of course, Sir, you’ve seen Paris?” “Never.” “Never seen Paris, Sir!” exclaimed the man of suds and small-talk: “never visited the French metropolis! why, dear me, Sir, you have seen nothing!”
In like manner, he who travels to the East—who feasts with Pashas in Europe, and eats pillauf with Beys in Asia—who peeps into palaces—glides in his swift caïque along the channel of the Bosphorus—overruns all Turkey, and half Egypt, and returns home without smoking a pipe on the summit of Mount Olympus, has, according to the declaration of the natives, “seen nothing.”
Of course it was out of the question that I should add to the number of these unthrifty travellers; and accordingly on the morning of the 11th of June (at least two months too soon), the horses were at the door at four o’clock; and, shaking off my sleepiness as well as I could, I set forward, accompanied by a Greek gentleman, with whose charming family we had formed a friendship, and who was himself well calculated by his scientific acquirements to enhance the enjoyment of the expedition, our servant, and a guide, for the dwelling of the Gods.
The morning was yet gray; the mists were hanging in wreaths about the mountains, and draping them in ermine; the dew was lying heavily on the dense vegetation; a few straggling peasants passed us on the outskirts of the sleeping city, some bearing scythes upon their shoulders, affixed to straight poles about eight feet in length—or carrying round spades of wood—or driving before them the animals who were to return laden with mulberry branches for the nurture of the silk-worms which are reared in millions at Broussa. The number of individuals constantly employed in providing food for these insects must be very great, as we have counted upwards of two hundred horses, mules, and donkeys, bearing closely-packed loads of boughs, passing in one day beneath our windows from the same gate of the city; and, as the immense plain is covered with trees, which are each year cut closely down to the trunk, the consumption may be imagined.
A little beyond the city we passed a mule-litter, closely covered with scarlet cloth, guided by two men, and followed by three Turkish gentlemen on horseback, attended by their servants, bound on some mountain pilgrimage; but we had not proceeded above half a league, ere, with the exception of a string of mules laden with timber, which occasionally crossed our path, we had the wilderness to ourselves.
The ascent commences, immediately on leaving the city, which on this side is bounded by a deep ditch or fosse, into which two mountain torrents, boiling and bellowing down from the neighbouring heights, pour their flashing waters. A narrow pathway, so narrow that two saddle-horses cannot pass in it, traverses a dense wood of dwarf oak and hazel, clothing the hill-side, above whose stunted summits we looked down upon the plain, and the minarets of Broussa.
A sudden turn in the road conducted us rapidly upwards, freed us from the hazel wood, and plunged us among masses of rock, over which our horses slid and stumbled, until we reached the foot of the next range of heights. Here the landscape began to grow in beauty; behind us was the city fenced with mountains, mapped out in all its extent, and as remarkable as that of Constantinople for the extraordinary and beautiful admixture of buildings and foliage, which I never remember to have seen elsewhere.
Every habitation possessing, if not its garden, at least its one tall tree, beneath whose boughs the family congregate during the warm hours, the appearance of an Eastern city, as you look down upon it from any neighbouring height, is entirely devoid of that monotony which renders the roofs and chimneys of an European town so utterly uninteresting. It looks as though the houses had grown up gradually in the midst of a thick grove, and the eye lingers without weariness on the scene, where the glittering casements, touched by the sunlight, flash through the clustering leaves, and the wind heaves aside the more flexile branches to reveal a stately portal, or a graceful kiosk. From the spot on which we now stood, we saw Broussa to great advantage. The most striking object was the spacious mosque of Oulou-Jamè piercing through the morning mists in spectral whiteness—the stunted minarets, looking like caricatures of those light, slender, fairy-moulded creations which shoot so loftily into the blue heaven at Stamboul; minarets that have sacrificed their grace to the south wind, which blows so violently at Broussa as frequently to unroof the more lofty buildings; and whose ill-proportioned cupolas of lead complete the pictorial ruin, and give them the appearance of bulky wax candles, surmounted by metal extinguishers. A small space beyond ran the gleaming river, sparkling along its bed of white pebbles—the wilderness of mulberry trees spreading over the green carpet of the plain—and away, afar off, the range of mountains purpling in the distance, and crowned with clouds!
Beside us, not half a foot from our horse’s hoof, we had a sheer precipice clothed with dwarf-oak and spruce, and we heard, although we could not see, the tumbling waters of a torrent which roared and rushed along the bottom of the gulph. Beyond the precipice, towered a lordly mountain, upon whose crest were pillowed dense masses of fleecy vapour; while stately fir trees draped it with a thousand tints. Before us rose masses of rock, through which we had to make our way: and from every crevice sprang a forest tree, whose gnarled and knotted roots were washed by a rushing stream, which was flung up like spray as our horses splashed through it. We next reached a patch of soft fresh turf; maple and ash trees overshadowed it; wild artichokes and violets were strown in every direction; the rich ruby-coloured arum hung its long dank leaves over the narrow channel, through which glided a pigmy stream almost hidden by the rank vegetation; the little yellow hearts’-ease was dotted over the banks; the ringdoves were cooing amid the leaves; and the grasshopper, as green and almost as bright as an emerald, was springing from flower to flower. It is a place of pause for the traveller, and it deserves to be so. There can scarcely be a lovelier in the world! One or two fragments of cold grey rock pierced through the rich grass, as if to enhance its beauty, and afforded a resting-place, whence we looked round upon the masses of mountain scenery by which we were surrounded; and few, I should imagine, would fail to profit by this opportunity of temporary rest, when they contemplated the far extent of wild and difficult country through which they were to travel.
Let none venture the ascent of Mount Olympus who have not the head and the hand equally steady; who are incapable not only of standing upon the “giddy brink,” but also of riding along it when the road is scarcely a foot in width, and the precipice some hundreds in depth; and where the only path is a torrent-chafed channel, or a line of rock piled in ledges, and slippery with water; for assuredly, to all such, le jeu ne vaudra pas la chandelle, as it is impossible to imagine ways less calculated to calm the nerves, or to re-assure the timid. You urge your horse up a flat stone, as high and as large as a billiard table, and splash he descends on the other side up to his girths in mud: now you ride up a bank to escape collision with a string of timber-laden mules, and in descending you are stumbling and scrambling among the roots of trees, which twirl and twist among the vegetation like huge snakes; at one moment you are almost knocked off your saddle by a forest-bough that you have not room to avoid, and the next you are up to your knees in a torrent which he refuses to leap. Assuredly the Gods never wished to receive company.
As the ascent became more difficult, the whole face of the landscape changed: lofty firs shot upwards against the clear sky, while rocks fantastically piled, and looking like the ruins of a lordly city, were scattered over a plain which we skirted in turning the elbow of the next range of heights. Here and there, a tree that had been smitten by the thunder reared aloft its white and leafless branches, while its shivered trunk looked like a mass of charcoal. Eagles and vultures soared above our heads; innumerable cuckoos called to each other among the rocks: at intervals the low growl of a bear was heard in the distance; and altogether, a more savage scene can scarcely be imagined.
A fine fir-wood succeeded, which terminated in a small plain intersected by a sparkling trout-stream, whose waters formed a thousand pigmy cascades as they tumbled over the rocky fragments that choked their channel. Here we spread our morning meal, cooling our delicate Greek wine in the waters of Mount Olympus, and seating ourselves upon the fresh turf which was enamelled with violets and wild hyacinths. At this spot travellers usually leave their horses, and proceed to the summit of the mountain on foot; but our good cheer, our soft words, and, above all, the promise of an increased backshish, so won upon our guide, that he consented to let his horses’ knees and our necks share the same risk, and to proceed as much further as might be practicable for the animals.
What a breakfast we made! My intelligent Greek friend already talking of his mineralogical expectations; I decorating my riding-habit with lovely wild flowers; the portly Turk paying marked attention to the hard eggs and caviare, and the servant passing to and fro the stream with glasses of cool wine, sparkling like liquid topaz.
Before us towered the mountain, whose every creek and crevice was heaped with snow, while one dense mass of vapour hung upon its brow like a knightly plume. From the summit of the mount the snow had disappeared, but the white slate-stone of which it is composed gleamed out beneath the sunshine with a glare that was almost dazzling. The sides of the rock are clothed with juniper, which, from the continual pressure of the snow, is dwarfed and stunted, and rather crawls along the earth than springs from it; and whose berries produce a singular and beautiful effect on the masses beneath which they are concealed, by giving to them a pink tinge that has almost the effect of art. Yet, nevertheless, I could not forbear casting a glance of anxiety at the towering height, which all its majesty and magnificence failed to dispel. I had been told that in the month of June it would be impossible for a female to ascend to the summit—I had already left behind me six long leagues of the wilderness—two more of perpetual and difficult ascent were before me—but I remembered my prowess in the Desart of the Chartreux, and I resolved to persevere.
Our hamper was repacked, our bridles were re-adjusted, and, fording the little stream, we once more set forward upon our “high emprize;” and after scrambling through acres of juniper, sliding over ledges of rock, and riding through nine torrents, we at length found ourselves at the foot of the almost perpendicular mountain.
It was a magnificent spectacle! The mid-day sun was shining upon the eternal snows, which, yielding partially and reluctantly to its beams, were melting into a thousand pigmy streams that glittered and glided among the juniper bushes; the highest peak of the mount, crowned by its diadem of vapour, rose proudly against the blue sky; the ragged ridges of the chain, tempest-riven and bare, hung over the snow-filled gulphs, into which the grasp of centuries had hurled portions of their own stupendous mass; and not a sound was audible save the brawling of the torrents in the lower lands, or the wind sweeping at intervals round the rocky point.
When I dismounted, and flung my bridle to the guide, I felt as though I had gained another year of life!
Never shall I forget the fatigue of that ascent!—a weary league over the gnarled roots of the juniper plants, and loose stones which treacherously failed beneath our feet, and frequently lost us six steps for the one that we thought to gain. But at length we stood upon the edge of the rock; we had clomb the ascent, and were looking down upon the mountains that we had traversed in the morning;, as though into a valley; but our task was not yet ended: the loftiest peak, the seat of Jupiter, yet towered above us, and seemed to mock our efforts. Between that peak, and the spot on which we stood, there was a deep hollow, to be descended on our side, and again mounted on the other: the rock was edged with snow many feet in depth; our feet sank among the loose stones; the cold was piercing; and to add to our discomfort, the vapours were rising from the valley beyond the mountain in one dense mass which resembled the concentrated smoke of a burning world.
The effect was sublimely awful! Fold upon fold—shade darkening over shade—nothing was to be seen but the cold, gray, clinging vapour which hung against the mountain, as if to curtain the space beyond. It was frightful to stand upon the edge of the precipice, and to mark the working of that mysterious cloud—fancy ran riot in looking on it—its superhuman extent—its unearthly, impalpable texture—its everchanging form—its deep, dense tint—my brain reeled with watching its shifting wonders; and had not my companion withdrawn me from the brink, I should have sunk down from sheer mental exhaustion.
We had been warned not to linger when on the mountain, and after the lapse of a few moments we again toiled on. At intervals the vapour rolled back, and gave us glimpses of hills, and valleys, and woods, and streams, far below us; but it was like the production of a fairy-wand, for while we yet looked upon them they were lost: another heavy fold of mist rose from the chasm, and again all was chaos.
At length the chibouk was lighted. We stood upon the Grave of the Giant; upon the highest point of Mount Olympus—beside the roofless hut, built for the shelter of the storm-overtaken traveller, and so ingeniously sunk beneath the surface as to form a well, in which such a shower of rain as commonly falls in the neighbourhood of the mountain, would go nigh to drown the hapless wanderer who might trust to the treacherous asylum.
Behind us all was vapour: before us stretched away the mountain-chain across which we had travelled: while far, far in the distance, and almost blent with the horizon, we distinguished the blue Lake of Apollonia. While we yet looked, we saw the mists gathering about our own path; curling up from the swampy patches between the hills; rolling along the rocky channel of the torrents: draping the broad branches of the dark firs; clinging to the mountain sides—we had no time to lose. We were not travellers on a highway; we had neither finger-posts nor landmarks—all is so nearly alike in the wilderness: one pile of cold gray rock looms out from amid the mists shaped so like its neighbour; one rushing torrent brawls over its stony bed so like another: one stretch of forest darkens the mountain side with a gloom so similar to that which shadows the opposite height, that we thought it well to avoid the gathering of the vapours, if we did not wish to sleep in the desart.
To return by the way that we had ascended was out of the question; for we had walked upwards of a league along the summit of the mountain, after having gained the height. The other face of the rock presented a much shorter road, but, as it was extremely dangerous, we held a council to decide on which we should venture—the fatigue and loss of time, or the possibility of accident. We were already travel-worn and foot-sore, but not caring to confess even to each other that it was the exertion from which we shrank, we both talked very sagely of the danger of delay, with the mists gathering so rapidly about us; and decided, as a matter of prudence, on descending the precipice.
I have already mentioned the mountain-ridge that projected over the gulph, and whose jagged and storm-riven outline bore testimony to the ravages of time and tempest; while the huge fragments of fallen rock which heaved up their dark masses from among the accumulated snows beneath, broke the smooth surface, and betrayed the depth of the precipice.
This was the point on which we fixed for our descent: my companion, who was an accomplished sportsman, and accustomed to the dizzy mountains of the East, led the way; and, as he assured me that nothing but nerve was required to ensure success, I followed without hesitation. Seating ourselves, therefore, upon the summit of the mountain, we slid gently down to a narrow ledge of rock, just sufficiently wide to afford us footing; and clinging to the stones which jutted out from the natural wall on the one side, and carefully avoiding to look towards the precipice on the other, we slowly made our way to a second descent similar to the first. This hazardous exploit, thrice repeated, carried us through the most difficult portion of our undertaking, as the rock then projected sufficiently towards the base to enable us to step from stone to stone, until we arrived at the edge of the snow.
As we could form no calculation of its depth, we did not venture to traverse it, which would have shortened the distance very considerably; but skirting the gulph, where it was not more than mid-way to our knees, we at length arrived in a patch of swampy land, inundated by the melting of the mountain snows, and scattered over with rocks, many of them split asunder, as though they had suffered from the wrath of Vulcan in one of his stormy moods. Our wet and weary feet next carried us up a slight ascent, to a stretch of land as brilliant and as sweet as a flower-garden. Were I to enumerate all the blossoms that I saw growing wild on this spot, the next page of my book would resemble a floricultural catalogue; and tired as I was, I could not pass them by without gathering a bouquet which would have done no disgrace to an English parterre.
In half an hour more we entered the grassy nook where we had left our horses; and the recompense of our prowess from the guide when we pointed out to him the spot whence we had descended was a look of contemptuous pity, accompanied by the remark that we were “two mad Franks!”
We had scarcely taken a hasty glass of wine, and mounted our horses, when two loud claps of thunder, following close upon each other, rattled along the mountain-tops, and enforced on us the necessity of speed. But, alas! there was no possibility of travelling at more than a foot’s-pace between Mount Olympus and Broussa; all that we could do, therefore, was to commence our homeward journey without a moment’s delay, and trust to our lucky stars, both for finding our way, and for getting home dry. On we pressed accordingly, “over bank, bush, and scaur;” but in half an hour we were so completely enveloped in mist that we could not see each other. The guide still moved steadily on, however, like a man who is sure of his path; and I felt no misgivings until, on arriving in the dry bed of a torrent from which the stream had been diverted by some convulsion of nature, he suddenly ceased the wild monotonous melody with which he had favoured us for a considerable time, and, turning round in his saddle, remarked quietly: “We are lost.”
For an instant no one replied. We had each anticipated the probability of such an occurrence, but it was not the less disagreeable when it came to pass. What was to be done? First, the guide was convinced that he had borne too much to the right, and accordingly we all turned our horses in the other direction; when being close upon a wall of rock that loomed out from the vapour like some bristling fortress, he admitted that this could not be the way, and that consequently he must have inclined too much to the left. We performed a fresh evolution with equal success: the man was fairly bewildered; and meanwhile the vapour was spreading thicker and faster about us.
At length my companion suggested the expediency of shouting aloud, that in the event of any shepherd or goatherd being in the neighbourhood, we might procure assistance and information. Shout, accordingly, we did, at the very pitch of our lungs; but the mists were so dense that they stifled the voice, and we were ourselves conscious that we could not be heard at any great distance. After the suspense of a long, weary half-hour, we had just abandoned all hope of help, when a huge dog came bounding out of the vapour, barking furiously, but to us his voice was music, as it assured us of the vicinity of some mountaineer; at the same moment the mists broke partially away, and the guide, uttering an exclamation of joy, suddenly descended a steep bank, and we found ourselves on the skirts of the fir wood, and in the mule-track which we had followed in the morning.
We had scarcely congratulated each other on the termination of our dilemma, and the partial dispersion of the vapours, when a jagged line of serpent-like lightning ran shimmering through the broad flash that lit up for a second the whole wild scene amid which we were moving; and at the same instant, the loudest and the longest peal broke from the sky to which I ever listened; rock after rock caught up the sound, and flung it back, until the wizard thunder rattled in fainter echoes down into the plain.
It was an awful moment! The terrified animals stood suddenly still, and trembled with affright; but we had no time to waste upon alarm, for, as if conjured by that awful crash, and the wild light by which it was accompanied, down came the imprisoned waters from the mass of vapour that hung above us. I can scarcely call it rain; it was as though a sluice had been let loose upon us, and in an instant we were drenched. Every mountain stream grew suddenly into a torrent—every wayside fountain, (and there were many in the forest formed of the hollow trunks of trees,) overflowed its basin—the branches against which we brushed in our passage, scattered the huge drops from their leaves—large stones fell rattling down the sides of the mountain—in short it was as wild a storm as ever inspired the pencil of Salvator Rosa; and its solemnity was deepened by the twilight gloom of the clinging and changeful vapours.
We arrived at Broussa both wet and weary, having been thirteen hours on the road; but, despite all that I suffered, I would not have lost the sublime spectacle on which I gazed from the summit of Mount Olympus, for the enjoyment of a month of luxurious ease. Well might Howitt exclaim, in the gushing out of his pious and poetical nature:—
“Praise be to God for the mountains!”