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

by H. F. B. Lynch

FROM BITLIS TO MUSH—MUSH

At twenty minutes past eight o’clock on the morning of the 25th of November we set out for the neighbouring town of Mush. It is the capital of a sanjak, or larger administrative division, belonging to the vilayet of Bitlis. It is situated on the further side of the wall of mountains which divide the watersheds of the Tigris and the Euphrates, and at a distance by road from the provincial capital of rather over fifty miles. You retrace your steps towards the valley of Bor and the telegraph wires, in order to cross by an easy and almost imperceptible ascent to the volcanic plateau on the western side of Lake Van. The lavas from Nimrud, and perhaps from lesser volcanic fissures near the base of the Kerkür Dagh, have levelled the inequalities of the ground in this direction, and have risen, as it were, to the rim of the basin in which the tributaries of the Tigris have their source. Indeed, as you diverge from the valley on a northerly course through a side valley or opening in the hills, you skirt the margin of a shallow stream, an affluent of the Bitlis Chai, which has its origin on the very lip of the volcanic plateau. We made our way up the current babbling over the rocks, through a bleak but comparatively open scene. On our right was an ancient khan in a ruinous condition, of lesser dimensions than the one on the road from Van to Bitlis which we had already passed. In its neighbourhood the track bifurcates, one branch maintaining a northerly direction, and the other inclining a little eastwards in the direction of Tadvan. Sipan now came in view on our right front, seen from the summit to the middle slopes above the outline of the plateau. A little later, we stood upon the actual floor of this table surface, at an elevation of 800 feet above the higher quarters of the town of Bitlis.

Fig. 150. Kerkür Dagh from the South; Nimrud Crater in the background.

It was ten o’clock. I called a halt, and took a photograph of the Kerkür Dagh, which rose in front of us, hiding Nimrud (Fig. 150). You just obtain a peep of the crater of the giant volcano on the west of that bold elevation. We could not discover traces of a crater on Kerkür, which appeared to compose an isolated mass. The level ground upon which we stood extended in both directions, towards the west and towards the east; but the configuration of this high land was such as to conceal completely the waters of Lake Van. We now commenced a more westerly course, and in another hour had passed the Kerkür Dagh and were in full face of Nimrud ([Fig. 151]). The heights of the Kerkür are seen on the extreme right of my illustration, descending by bold bastions to the steppe. After a second halt we arrived upon the edge of the plateau, where it overhangs the great plain of Mush. We had been walking or trotting along for a space of nearly an hour, excluding stoppages, from the point at which my first photograph was taken.

Fig. 151. Nimrud Crater from the Volcanic Plateau.

The prospect from this position was at once far-reaching and instructive. On our right hand, a few miles off, rose the caldron of Nimrud from the table surface upon which we stood. Behind us there was nothing but the undulating steppe. Our barometers were now sensible of a slight decline in elevation—a decline of about 350 feet. We were placed at a level of 5500 feet; abruptly before our eyes the ground fell away to the head of the plain, 1000 feet below. The appearance of the plain of Mush recalled our view from the slopes of Aghri Dagh over the district of Alashkert. Both depressions are in fact the beds of former lakes, to which the mountains descend in bold promontories. On that occasion we were overlooking the breadth of an even area; to-day we were commanding the length. And what a curious commencement of the plain that feeds the Euphrates, this colossal dam, 1000 feet in height and several miles across! The boundaries of the depression are, on the north, the train of Nimrud, which extends for a short distance towards the west. Further on, the line is continued by a range of lofty hills, which, as we looked, extended across the horizon, their summits topped with snow. The Kurdish chain contributes the southern and continuous barrier. Our course was indicated by a distant headland of that southern border, bearing about west-north-west.

The descent to the plain occupied nearly an hour, and it was one o’clock before we were again on level ground. The first steps of the declivity led us past a little village, and along a torrent which contributes its waters to the Euphrates. The name of Morkh is applied both to the hamlet and to the stream. Looking backward, we observed a little conical crater on the flank of Nimrud, resembling a boil, and facing the Kerkür. Eruptive volcanic stones were strewn upon our path. Lower down we threaded our way through some low bush of oak. When we reached the head of the plain, a hill mass of no great height, and evidently of volcanic origin, rose between us and the descending train of Nimrud. We could see the trees of the Kurdish village of Norshen, beneath the mountains of the southern border, and scarcely more than half-a-mile away.

In less than half-an-hour we arrived at a handsome mausoleum, standing in the midst of an ancient cemetery, and now fallen into a ruinous state. It was circular in shape. I was not aware at the time of the existence in this neighbourhood of the spring of which Mr. Ainsworth speaks.[1] But at Erzerum I learnt that I had passed by it, and was made acquainted with an interesting theory of its origin. It is said that a shepherd, pasturing his flocks on the slopes of Nimrud, happened to lose his staff, which was weighted with a purse, in the waters that collect in the caldron of that great volcanic mass. A little later the same staff was found on the bank of the stream which issues from this well. Such an occurrence is not improbable on a priori grounds. It is only necessary to recall the connection generally accepted as subsisting between the pool on the summit of the Little Ararat and the Sirdar’s well in the valley at its feet. While in Erzerum I was also given a copy of the Arabic inscription on the mausoleum just described. It records that it is the tomb of a certain emir, Karanlai Agha, who died in the year of the Hegira 689, or of our era 1290.[2]