CHAPTER XVIII
ROUND NIMRUD BY LAKE NAZIK
July 25.—A sharp ride of an hour and a half brought us down from the crater to the village of Tadvan. The descent is more continuous than on the side of Akhlat; the outer slopes of the mountain are seared with deep gullies. Crossing the orchards of the straggling settlement, we pitched our tents on the west of the village, upon the margin of a field of late-sown wheat. A line of well-grown willows, fringing the bank of a tiny stream, promised shade during the later hours of the day, when the sun should be at our backs. That welcome shade was indeed commencing to subdue the brilliance of the young corn while the canvas was being stretched. We looked out over the green field across the waters to the smiling landscape of the opposite shore. The curve of the little harbour of Tadvan was turned towards us, backed by a lofty boss of rock. Quite a number of picturesque craft were lying within it; but only one, so far as I know, was laden. She was carrying wood and charcoal from the Bitlis district. The rest were doing nothing, many of the men having families here. All this time I had seen but a single sail upon the lake, besides that of Captain Elliot’s boat. But sea-gulls there are, to give life to the waters, with their beautiful white wings.
Tadvan was in a state of commotion, or what passes as such, in a country where all spirit has been gradually extinguished among the population of Armenian race. Although this village is Armenian, they did not hesitate to betray to the authorities four of their countrymen, who had taken refuge in their midst. These individuals appear to have been under the ban of the law, and, indeed, were alluded to as brigands. One never hears talk of Kurdish brigands; though I have never met a Kurd who was not more or less a brigand, nor an Armenian who either justified or deserved the name. The notorious Ali Bey, police officer at Bitlis, hurried to the scene. He surrounded the hut which harboured the men; fire was opened upon them, which they returned, and a zaptieh was shot. A villager, who tried to mediate, was killed. Then Ali Bey collected straw, and set light to it, and literally burnt them out. I was told that all four succumbed. All this happened a day or two ago. I informed the Kaimakam that I should like to kick the official if he would be so obliging as to come my way. When one is kindly treated by the authorities, one endeavours to avoid getting very angry, except before their face.
We spent several days in the neighbourhood, making excursions, and mapping in these unmapped shores of Lake Van. The Kaimakam was obliged to leave us and return to Akhlat; we were sorry to part, having become mutually attached. The Armenian villages of this district are evidently very old, and have probably existed from the dawn of history. One of the most flourishing is Kizvag, which occupies a situation of ideal quality as a home of Man. It is placed on the southern horn of a beautiful little bay, sheltered on the north by a bold promontory, from which rises a knife-like ridge. This ridge is composed of a lava which has welled up along a latitudinal fissure. One rides there over layers of lava and pumice, some of which show traces of having been deposited in water. The corn was already golden in the fields, very tall in the stalk and heavy in the ear. We had never seen finer crops. Vines flourish along the base of the promontory; but a vineyard is a rare occurrence in these scenes. The air was always radiant and invigorating, in spite of the heat of the sun. Kizvag is a considerable place; but the houses are the usual ant-hills. The dress of the people is gay. The women wear the embroidered aprons which are such a striking feature of their national dress; but the designs were finer than any we had seen. I endeavoured to purchase a few; but all the new ones were vastly inferior; it was only the old ones, now torn and faded, that showed any taste. It is the same in Persia, and Central Asia—everywhere in the East. It is a fact for which one may discover explanations; but none appear altogether adequate.
The lower slopes on the opposite shore of the lake are well wooded, and this pleasing landscape circles round towards Tadvan. The wood is due to the character of the rock, a mica-schist, yielding a fertile soil. But higher up on the face of the range the hard marbles come to view, and, while their surface is well adapted to take the hues of the sky, it is inimical to all vegetation. About a hundred feet above the water, you perceive a well-marked terrace, denoting a former level of the lake. I have already remarked that the level is again rising; and the same occurrence, which was presented in so striking a manner at Arjish (Ch. III. p. 30), is already threatening the village of Kizvag. The hill of Tadvan, at the promontory, is not volcanic, being composed of marble and mica-schist. It is less lofty and extensive than that of Kizvag; the summit is crowned by the substructures of a ruined fort. This fort was erect and proud at the commencement of the sixteenth century.[1] Nothing remains at the present day but a deep pit, which was perhaps a reservoir for water. The inhabitants of Tadvan are in a deplorable condition, the women in rags, the children mostly naked. It was pitiable to see the women stretching out their arms towards us, imploring us to give them food. We distributed a little money.
From Tadvan we directed our course towards the head of Mush plain across the volcanic plateau west of Lake Van.[2] Our track conducted us past a projecting outwork of the opposite range, well wooded and consisting of mica-schist. The extremity towards Nimrud is faced with lava. You mount gradually above the fertile surroundings of the lake to arid and, therefore, sterile ground. A few patches of burnt grass, some beautiful hollyhocks, with very large white flowers, are about the only vegetation which it supports. On the right hand rises the Kerkür Dagh, covered with flourishing brushwood, and, behind Kerkür, the immense mass of the Nimrud crater. In the opposite direction the barrier of the Kurdish mountains is less bold and imposing than at other points. This is partly, no doubt, due to the flooding against them of volcanic matter. The plateau attains its highest level at about a third of the whole distance from the point where we gained its surface to the head of Mush plain. The altitude by boiling-point was 6320 feet, or 680 feet above Lake Van.
We were impressed by the fact that in the immediate neighbourhood of the Kerkür the ground slopes towards that upstanding mass. And the broad valley, which we knew must contain the beginnings of the Bitlis Chai, was screened by a somewhat higher level of the field of lava. It may be that this is due to the lavas having swept round Kerkür, leaving a slight depression at its southern foot. Oswald rode off to investigate the material of the Kerkür, and found it to consist of a mass of trachyte. The slopes are covered almost to the summit with talus, and it is evidently a very old volcanic boss.
The plateau descends to the plain by two lower terraces, the descent being fairly gradual in each case. The Kerkür is also screened by a bastion-shaped terrace of talus which sinks into the plain. I have already described this stage of our journey (Ch. VII. p. 162); and I shall only pause to give some account of our visit to the pool of Norshen, which I had omitted to examine during my first journey.