Armenia, Travels and Studies (Volume 2 of 2) / The Turkish Provinces

by H. F. B. Lynch

Fig. 191. Armenian Village of Gundemir: Bingöl Cliffs in the background.

From our encampment on the margin of such a grove of shady trees we could study at leisure the features of the plain. I have already noticed its appearance and extraordinary surroundings (Ch. VIII. p. 182); and this second visit enabled me to answer some of the questions which were suggested, but could not be resolved, on the former occasion. While the ova is immediately bounded on the south by the block of heights which we know as the northern border heights of Mush plain, the northern boundary of the whole wide valley—the towering Bingöl cliffs—are distant several miles from the confines of this lake-like depression, in which that valley comes to an end upon the west. The intermediate zone is filled up by hill ridges, of which the axis is the same as that recorded in the last chapter, when we were journeying along the valley from Gumgum. It is an axis similar to that of the plain of Mush. It is evidently a line of volcanic elevation, being almost at right angles to that of the stratified rocks. Of these ridges—with their beaches of lava and sprinkling of oak scrub—two descend and die out into the plain. The more easterly leaves our village close upon the right hand, skirts Dodan, and ends in a series of little cones, which push the river to the very foot of the barrier on the south. Its neighbour on the west composes the heights on the north of the plain. It comes down from the uppermost slopes of the Bingöl plateau, and determines the drainage of the Bingöl Su. It appears to be connected on the south-west with the sheets of lava which have built up the westerly and plateau-like boundary of the plain—a barrier which has been eaten into by a deep cañon through which a stream descends into the plain. The name of that affluent to the Bingöl Su we learnt to be the Sherefeddin Su; it enters the ova at the village of Baskan. The Bingöl Su approaches the plain on a meridional course, bounded on either side by the two ridges above mentioned, and watering the orchards of Gundemir. It has almost crossed the ova when it is joined by its affluent; it then turns eastwards and settles down to a course towards the Murad.

August 16.—It was afternoon before we were ready to start on our journey towards the still distant outline of the Bingöl cliffs. After fording the river, we made our way up its right bank, along the pebbly alluvial bed, which had a width of about a quarter-mile. In half-an-hour we crossed an outlier from the ridge on the west, leaving the river on our right to flow through a gorge between this ridge and that upon the east. Emerging on the further side, we stood in an extensive depression with nothing between us and the base of the cliffs ([Fig. 192]). On our left hand, the ridge on the west was seen extending in a north-westerly direction to the very face of the opposite parapet; a conical eminence, consisting of lava built up on lacustrine deposits, was a conspicuous feature upon the mass. Its companion on the east had the appearance of being more isolated; and the prospect in that direction was far-reaching over the undulating basin of the Bingöl Su. At the Kurdish hamlet of Chaghelik we again crossed the river, and struck a fairly direct course for the cliffs. The belt of detritus and broken ground which extends along their base is of considerable depth. All the way we were riding over lava, tending to decompose into brown sand. Our track was indicated on the face of the barrier by a very white appearance, due, as we found, to the dust of a pink lava. Layers of lava and tuff were seen in section along that face. The actual ascent occupied nearly an hour; and it was growing dark as we opened out the surface of the plateau. We had attained an elevation of some 8500 feet, or of 3500 feet above Gundemir. Let my reader picture to himself the cliffs of Dover raised to seven times their present height.

Fig. 192. The Bingöl Cliffs with the Head Waters of the Bingöl Su from the Village of Chaghelik.

The air was heavy with perfume; yellow mullein, ablaze with flower, rose in profusion from the even sheet of lava. Far and wide it spread before us, sometimes rising to a barren knoll, as often sinking to a grassy hollow. In such a faint depression, by the side of a tiny runnel, we fixed our encampment for the night. The shadows hung about us; but the western sky was shot with fire above a sea of ridges, billowing towards us, and buried in the depths of the landscape before ever they could attain our airy platform. The phenomenon was new; nor were we able to grasp its whole significance until we had become familiar with the relations of this uniform tableland to that country of ridge and trough in the west.

The solitude of the place, and its remoteness from any human settlement disposed us to receive to the full the spirit of our surroundings; nor was the mood disturbed throughout our stay on Bingöl. So plastic is the nature of man that one must regret his confinement in cities, and his exclusion—which is sometimes life-long—from communion with the natural world. Such communion is at once a spiritual and a mental exercise; and the greater grows our knowledge of the phenomena around us, the more complete becomes the fusion of soul with soul. The Hebrews copied from Asia her vastness and her essential harmony, and translated them into their religion and laws; the inspiration has grown feeble during its passage through the ages; but the source is still open from which it sprang. One feels that its ultimate origin must be placed in this country; and that the fables, which are woven around the infancy of our race, resemble the mists which hang to the surface of some stately river, but have been distilled from the solid waters which they veil. The natural setting of those legends are a Bingöl and an Ararat—the one the parent mountain of the fertilising streams, the other the greatest and most imposing manifestation of natural agencies working to a sublime end. And Europe, with her turmoil of intellect and clash of religious opinions, has need of the parent forces from which she drew her civilisation, and of which the spirit speaks to the spirit of the humblest of her sons in the same accents and with the same high purpose as of yore.

We debated on the following morning in which direction we should proceed. Where should we find a yaila from which to draw our supplies during our sojourn upon the mountain? We were as yet a long way west of the so-called crater, and we were led to hope that we might find such a Kurdish encampment just below and on the south of its main wall. We therefore set out in a north-easterly direction over the undulating surface of the plateau. The smoothness of the ground, over which we rode for many miles, is characteristic of this extensive and remarkable tableland, and is due to the slabby nature of the sheets of lava, which must have issued in a very liquid state.[1] In this region they are seen to have flowed towards south and west. They support an abundance of yellow mullein which grows to a great height. The flowers of this beautiful plant are as delicate as their perfume; and we did not regret that on Bingöl they take the place of the monotonous fennel. The mullein is the flower of the surroundings of Bingöl, just as atraphaxis spangles the base of the Ararat fabric, and spiræa and giant forget-me-not haunt Nimrud. But violets we had not yet seen; and here they grew in plenty, on the margin of each patch of melting snow. Their perfume was like that of our garden description; and, while the upper petals were mauve, those below paled off into white. The little hollows of the ground were moist and grassy, having collected a little clay. Over such a scene without limits a few white clouds were floating, borne by delicious breezes across the field of intense blue.

After riding for over an hour without any landmark we reached the summit of a meridional vaulting of the table surface, due perhaps to the emission of lavas from a fissure. From this point we could see the western summit of the so-called crater bearing about east-north-east. It looked a mere hill, like any other of the irregular eminences. The trough below us, on the east, was seen by Oswald to slope southwards, and to become trenched by the course of a southward-flowing stream. This rivulet would therefore be the head branch of the Bingöl Su. Beyond this valley we mounted a second meridional ridge, coming towards us from the western summit. The view now extended along the entire wall of the crater, seen on its southern and rounded side. Its basin and steep cliffs have a frontage towards the north, and were, therefore, hidden from sight. A bleak scene lay before us in the hollow, framed on one side by the ridge upon which we were standing, and on the other by the long perspective of the wall on the north, stretching, like a huge rampart, towards the east. Into that hollow we made our way in an east-south-easterly direction, in search of the vaunted yaila. After riding over stony and difficult ground for over an hour, I called a halt, deciding to abandon the quest. We could see that we had reached a point about south of the eastern summit, for the outline of the rampart was already preparing to decline. To proceed further would be to occupy an unsuitable position for the purpose of exploring the mountain. Our tents were erected a little north of the head of the chasm through which flows the Gumgum river. Two zaptiehs were at once despatched with orders to carry on the search, and to bring back with them whatever food they could find. They discovered the yaila at some distance in an easterly direction, but still within reach of our camp. The Kurds supplied us with milk and mutton; but for flour and corn we were obliged to send to Gumgum, and for charcoal all the way to Khinis.

We remained in this camp for six days, finding it to be an excellent situation. From early morning until evening we pursued our work upon the mountain, visiting the basins on the further side of the rampart, taking measurements and ascertaining altitudes (see the two plans accompanying this chapter). It may be best to resume our results in a single picture, embracing first the mountain, next the immediate surroundings, and last the features of the landscape which it overlooks.[2]