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

by H. F. B. Lynch

During the night it froze hard; but on the following morning the air was warmed by a brilliant sun, shining in a clear sky. The thermometer stood at 37° before we again set out. Leaving at a little after eleven, we proceeded on an easterly course, towards the heights which rise behind Gumgum. I was unable to ascertain the exact connection of these hills with the block of the Bingöl; but, whereas we could still perceive that distant outline in the west, it was lost to view as it came towards us, stretching east. The northern barrier was now composed by the hill range already mentioned, which, at this point, appeared to be inclined towards south-east. After crossing a considerable stream, flowing down to the trough of the valley, we commenced at twelve o’clock the ascent of these hills.

Looking backward, one was impressed by the uneven character of the ground from which we rose. The valley is choked with hills, especially on the south-east, and it may have a width of about eight miles. The soil is covered with tufted grass, which must afford fine pasture in spring and early summer. The southern border consists of the mass of mountain which we had crossed from Changalli; but it had sensibly declined and was still declining in height. Beyond its sheet of snow the peaks of Taurus commenced to be visible; and when we reached the pass, before one o’clock, we could see the broad ribbon of the Murad lying in the plain of Mush. The river had passed the gap in the barrier on the north of that plain, which, it was evident, becomes much lower at the point where the passage is effected, the outlines sinking towards either bank.

We were standing in snow, at an elevation of 6600 feet. On our left front rose the cliffs of the Bingöl plateau, that mighty presence which for awhile had been concealed. They were still stretching from west to east, but were seen to turn towards north-east, in the direction of where we knew Khinis to lie. The eye pursued their long perspective into the distance, where, at a point about north-north-east, they broke away into a range of mountains, the range which bounds the plain of Khinis on the north. I was still unable to define the relation of the heights upon which we were placed to the mass from which they appeared to come; but they must contribute to compose the long line of heights which we had seen extending from the Bingöl towards Sipan.

How great a part has been performed by the action of water in shaping the relief of this land may be realised by the frequent occurrence of perfectly flat depressions between the masses of higher ground. Thousands of feet below those levels lie these sheltered spaces, rendered fertile by winding streams. Such was the nature of the little plain to which we descended, appearing land-locked on every side. It is known as the Bashkent ova, or plain of Bashkent, from a Kurdish hamlet through which we presently passed.[13] It is situated at the comparatively lofty level of about 6000 feet. On the east it is enclosed by that irregular lump of mountain which we had first seen on the furthest horizon from before Tutakh. Khamur it is called. The ridge was some miles distant; but its outworks, a succession of sand-like convexities, rose from the margin of the plain. The western limit were the cliffs of Bingöl, frowning above the ova, and sending out a spur towards the Khamur on its northern verge. Towards that spur we made our way across the plain, on a north-easterly course. The flat surface has a length of about 3½ miles, and is covered with marshes or rank weeds. Besides Bashkent we could only see a single other hamlet, said to be inhabited by Kizilbash Kurds. We reached the summit of the rounded and opposite heights at half-past two o’clock. They may be described as flanking outworks of the Bingöl plateau, and they have an elevation of about 6550 feet. A little later, while still following along the side of these slopes, we came to a halt and partook of a scanty meal.

At a quarter-past three we were again in the saddle. Our course remained easterly, at about the same level; and at half-past three we were on the top of one of those bulging spurs which project from the side of the cliffs. The horizontal edge of the lofty tableland was now just above us; and, inasmuch as we were now able to pursue a north-north-easterly direction, it is evident that the mass must recede towards the north. Indeed it is probable that it describes a curve, concave to the plain of Khinis; we seemed to get behind the cliffs. On our right hand we were followed by the deformed shape of Khamur, now many miles away. The horizon was fretted by the long outline of the Akh Dagh—a fine, bold range with connections circling towards Khamur.

Fig. 159. The Akh Dagh and the Plain of Khinis from the South.

In a short time this mountain landscape was seen in fuller significance; a vast expanse of level depression was opened out. The black chaoush and his three myrmidons had taken their departure at Gumgum; and I was able to unpack the camera. I directed the lens to north-east, towards the plain and the distant Akh Dagh ([Fig. 159]); and next to south-east, upon the Khamur.[14] We reached the level at about five o’clock, after crossing a spur of the plateau, strewn with volcanic stones. Khinis was seen, a speck in the lap of the plain, towards which we rode at a rapid trot. At a quarter to six we arrived upon the deeply-eroded banks of the river of Khinis, which we forded and entered the town.

By directions of the Kaimakam we were lodged in his own office; he made his appearance early on the following day. A burly old man, with a head of great size and a massive forehead, with huge dimensions below the waist. This habit of body, which seemed to aggravate an advanced asthmatic affection, was due to continued sitting rather than to intemperance of diet. Our conversation was soon directed to the condition of the country—a subject upon which he held strong views. The people of his caza were, he said, almost without exception, liars, rogues and thieves. The Government did what it could; but the officials were not competent, being ignorant men like his humble self. Schools? There was supposed to be a Rushdiyeh in Khinis, but it was a Rushdiyeh only in name. As for the Kurds, they were the plague of his existence; you reaped them where you had not sown. Five houses here, there fifty people—impossible to count or to bring to count. If you wished to get anything out of them, you must borrow a stick from a bear-tamer and beat them about the head.

He proceeded to inform me that the town was the principal centre of the trade in sheep, fattened upon the pastures of the Bingöl Dagh. Merchants come from the great cities, notably from Damascus, and make their arrangements in Erzerum. They bring their own shepherds, whom they send to Khinis when their agents there have concluded the purchase and received the flocks. It is at about the present season—that of early winter—that the trade is at its height. The sheep are driven across the mountains to Diarbekr, whence they are despatched through the plains to the Syrian centre. My host added that it was no very easy matter to get them safely through the snow to the head of the Mesopotamian plains. To me it seems a most remarkable feat.