At four o’clock the track diverged, and led us over the undulating plateau which still continued, but with less regularity, in the west. A short turn towards north-west brought us almost to the threshold of the broad depression of Pasin. The ground fell away by a succession of convexities to a level surface, deeply seated at our feet ([Fig. 163]). But far in the north, on its opposite margin, again appeared the cliffs of a plateau, exalted thousands of feet above the plain. It represents the extreme extension of the tablelands of Armenia, to be succeeded by the peripheral ranges in the north. It was carried west and east, across the horizon. In this neighbourhood it is known as Kargabazar.
Fig. 163. Kargabazar, across the Plain of Pasin, from the southern margin of the Central Tableland.
We descended into one of the long valleys by which the heights we were leaving meet the plain. If Erzerum be the next objective, you cross to its western side and proceed by way of Ertev. Our own point was Hasan Kala, a more northerly course, leading through the village of Ketivan. That considerable Mohammedan settlement is situated at the end of the valley, whence you issue upon the spacious expanse. We rode at a rapid trot from this southern verge of the plain to the opposite margin, upon which is placed the castle and town. It formed a welcome landmark, which we reached in just an hour, arriving beneath the dusk at half-past six.
The town, which has a population of several thousands, clusters at the foot of a long ridge of volcanic rock which projects from the towering background of mountain into the floor of the plain. The southerly extremity of that precipitous ridge is crowned by lines of battlements, a work ascribed to the Genoese.[18] But the present masters of the country have neglected the fortifications, and have fallen back upon Erzerum. Pasin lies at the mercy of their good neighbours, the Russians, who already hold its doors. After fording the river of Upper Pasin, the Kala Su, as it is called—a sluggish stream, flowing in a divided channel—we passed through a feudal gateway within a wall which was in ruins, and groped our way through irregular lanes heaped with filth. Quarters were at last discovered in a new and well-kept coffee-house—a room of some size, with a wooden stage or daïs erected around the bare walls. Upon this stage, behind the half-screen of an open balustrade, a number of loungers in various dress, some wearing the turban, others the fez, others again the Persian lambskin cap,[19] were gathered in groups, sipping coffee from delicious little cups, and drawing the fragrant fumes of the Persian tobacco from hubble-bubble or kaleon. In a further corner, away from the light, one could not mistake some tall, lean figures, and features of big birds of prey; we were indeed in the presence of some officers of Hamidiyeh, conspicuous by the brass ensigns on their lambskin caps. They were spreading their coverlets for the night, or were turned towards the wall, bowing the head and then the body in prayer.
We slept in an inner room of this clean little tavern, and resumed our journey at eleven o’clock on the following day. The streets were alive with people, a motley band of human beings—for Hasan Kala, with its warm baths and numerous khans and shops, lies on the main road to Tabriz. It is lifted a little above the face of the plain and has an elevation of about 5600 feet. You look back upon its crumbling walls with a certain sympathy for its fallen greatness, and wonder whether it will again rise, like Kars, from its fallen station under a further advance of the Russian Empire towards the Mediterranean. Behind this deserted fortress—which, nevertheless, I was forbidden to photograph—we admired the huge bulwark of the mountain barrier, mocking the works of man. There was the same flat edge, which had so often excited our wonder, to those formidable cliffs. East and west, in a long and horizontal outline, they were drawn beyond the range of sight. The corresponding features on the south of the plain were less emphasised, the long valleys softening the abruptness of the higher ground.
Pasin—the reader may remember—is one of the principal links of the chain of depressions which connect the extremities of western Asia, and facilitate intercourse between east and west. From the narrows of Khorasan to the fantastic parapet of the Deveh Boyun, it has a length of no less than forty-four miles. Our way to Erzerum led us along this spacious avenue, and, after crossing the humble barrier which I have just mentioned, debouched upon the city on the opposite side. We were able to ride at leisure, along a course direct as an arrow, free to observe the stream of traffic on the highway.
An element of special interest were a number of bullock-carts, laden pell-mell with heaps of Hamidiyeh uniforms, destined for the rank and file. They slowly made their way towards Hasan Kala, groaning and creaking as they went. Long strings of Bactrian camels—huge, large-humped, shaggy animals—defiled with a lulling symmetry of movement and measured, noiseless tread. By their side walked the drivers, Tartars with skins of parchment, their features scarcely visible beneath their sheepskin caps. Of wayfarers there were many, and of the most divergent types. Some were mounted on little hacks, here and there a whole family—turbaned Mussulmans, astride of their overhanging mattresses, to which were attached a jangling cluster of cooking pots. A led horse would be encumbered by a still more formless bundle, which, as you approached, displayed a pair of human feet. Brawny Armenian peasants, a scattering of thick-set Lazes, a Kurdish horseman or two swelled the throng.
There are several large villages in the plain of Pasin; but to what race or mixture of races do the Mohammedan inhabitants belong? I was impressed by the difference in the physiognomy of these people, which was quite unlike the type prevailing among settled Kurds. The question of the racial composition of the non-Kurdish element, inhabiting the districts on the north, remains a subject for further research. The Armenians are in a decided minority in Pasin.[20]
A broad chaussée with flanking ditches is carried along the plain, almost in a straight line. But many of the culverts have fallen in, forcing vehicles off the road into the soft soil on either side. Still our horses liked the change, wearied by their long journey and much clambering over rocks. The ground was free of snow, even on this fifth day of December, and the air was comparatively mild.[21] The further we proceeded, the more the expanse narrowed and the perspective of the two long barriers closed. From afar we fixed our eyes on what appeared to be an artificial earthwork, thrown across the narrow head of the plain. At half-past one we were at the foot of this apparent fortification, with broken ground on either hand. The muzzles of cannon were turned towards us from the flat top of the colossal mound, and from two hills which rose on the south of the road. Indeed we seemed to face a completely impregnable position, impossible to circumvent. And from a distance one would think that the meeting walls of mountain were joined together by a transverse dam.