Tekman lies before us—a vast plateau, a continuous basin, stretching towards the foot of a gently vaulted opposite mountain with long horizontal outline and shield-shaped slopes. It is the outline of the Bingöl Dagh; such its appearance at this distance; it is thirty-two miles away as the crow flies. It constitutes the opposite rim of the basin, the counterpart of these heights in the north. Snow is lying in large quantities even upon its lower contours, a fact explained by their northern aspect and rounded shape ([Fig. 176]).[2] The southern declivities of the barrier upon which we are standing are only flecked with snow. Bingöl is little more than the culmination upon the horizon of the long outline of the tableland—a snow-clad ridge of little relative height. In places hard, black rock shows through the shining canopy, just below the crest of the ridge. In the east the highest point is but an eminence of the cliff-like parapet; but in the west there is a low vaulting which resembles a peak. In front of this western summit rises a mass of dark rock.
Fig. 176. Tekman and the Bingöl Dagh from near Khedonun.
No intervening forms obstruct the view over the basin to that long, low, east-west ridge. Nor further round, towards the east, is the landscape interrupted, except at an immense interval and by imposing shapes. At a distance of fifty-two miles, a second shield-shaped giant is less conspicuous because only streaked with snow. It is Khamur, a volcanic mass beyond the plain of Khinis—a plain concealed by these higher levels, but indicated in places by a sharp edge, where the plateau breaks abruptly to the floor of the plain. As the train of Khamur declines, a very lofty and pronounced mountain towers up into the sky. None of our attendants know its name; but it is the Akh Dagh, seen in profile, the boundary of the Khinis region on the north. It is forty miles distant; such are the limits in that direction; while in the west the eye is arrested by outlines from the adjacent heights. We cannot see Sipan for haze.
A better standpoint than that of the pass from which to realise this region is afforded by the brow of a hill a few miles west of the village of Madrak, to which we mounted on the following day. What a bleak and lonely scene! A country of rolling downs extends on every side, framed by the distant landmarks just described. Yet the prevailing hue is not that of grass, even at this season; but of naked limestone, weathered a pale ochre, or of serpentine, dull-green or bluish-grey. Both rocks compose hills of a gently rounded character; the limestones are most often capped by slabby lavas, which resist the crumbling and contribute to the horizontal appearance of all higher forms. The few clouds which have scaled the barrier of the Palandöken send liquid shadows over the undulating expanse. Of cultivation there is little—in places a patch of light reddish-brown; the stones are thickly strewn upon the fallows. The sparse hamlets, built of mud and stone, are lost in the folds of the hills.
We were disappointed with the flora. We saw whole beds of white anemones; vigorous fennel and slender ferns filled the crevices between the rocks. The long grass was coloured by the ubiquitous forget-me-nots; magenta primulas flourish in the frequent little marshes, and masses of buttercups along the margins of the streams. Such flowers, although common and humble, filled the air with perfume; and few countries in the world are endowed with such strong, sweet air. The earlier hour and the clearer day enlarged the scope of our vision; and the snow-robed Sipan, a second Ararat, was a ghostly presence in the south-east. We strove to identify the outlines on the extreme horizon of the half circle; but several even of the larger masses were not marked on any map. In the west the general level of the country was higher, and with less distinctive forms. In that direction the opposite heights, of Bingöl and of Palandöken—the rims of the basin—appeared in perspective almost to meet. And over the edge of the Bingöl series you could see the mountains on the north of the Murad, emerging in the far south-west. Looking backwards to the northern barrier, we saw the white face of the limestone emerging in patches from the rough grass on its slopes. It is little more than the elevated and broken rim of the plateau country over which we were making our way. The Akh Dagh showed up boldly on the limits of the shallow synclinal described by these wintry, waterworn uplands. Deeply eroded in that direction, they present a flat and more uniform surface as they stretch, mile upon mile, with gently shelving contours, to the opposite slopes of Bingöl.
What track will you follow, or what course will you shape towards Khinis and its fertile plain? The natives take a route by Tashkesen and Chaurma, and descend to the plain over the Akhviran Pass. They travel in armed caravans. We had passed such a cavalcade on the road from Palandöken, at the head of which, surrounded by attendants, armed to the teeth, rode a woman, muffled and veiled. But a portion of this route I had already followed during my former journey; and I was anxious to penetrate into the little-known region in the direction of Bingöl. The Kurdish village of Madrak is situated on the further side of an affluent of the Araxes, at a distance of some eight miles from the Palandöken Pass. Although it lies in a hollow, near a marsh, abounding in snipe, it is about 1000 feet higher than Erzerum (7061 feet). Our zaptieh professed to know a track which led in the desired direction, and which should take us by a direct route to Khinis. Starting at three o’clock, after a morning of storm and rain, we followed a path which conducted us in a southerly direction across the downs. A single hamlet was passed by, and after a ride of over an hour we overlooked a spacious valley and a considerable stream. On its left bank is placed the considerable Kurdish village of Duzyurt; the gay dresses of the inhabitants brightened the scene. We forded the stream, which must join the one on the north of Madrak; the water was pellucid, but barely reached to our horses’ knees. Regaining the uplands on its further side we enjoyed a larger prospect; the whole of Bingöl was exposed to view as well as some of the outlines in the east. Forget-me-nots shed a shimmer of blue through the grass which, as usual in this region, was thickly strewn with stones. At half-past five we were high up and in face of a second river valley; some rude buildings were collected on the down. We followed the course of this valley some little distance towards the east, and pitched our tents near the hamlet of Khedonun (6713 feet).
A band of armed Kurds, richly attired, were watering their horses, or strolling idly along the banks of a little stream. The hamlet is situated on its left bank. The inhabitants of this region are at the present day exclusively Kurds; but I was informed that, as regards the district of Tekman in general, they are of comparatively recent importation. The Armenian inhabitants left en masse with the armies of Paskevich, and the Kurds occupied their vacant villages. The Kurds of Khedonun were said to belong to the Jibranli tribe—a tribe which is strong in the caza of Varto. But among the Kurdish population some have been brought from the distant vilayet of Diarbekr, at the head of the Mesopotamian plains. These belong to the Zireki. Our people fraternised with the horsemen; they composed the escort of a bridegroom who had come to the village from a neighbouring hamlet in quest of a bride. The wedding was to take place on the following day.
Although settled on the land, these Kurds are distinctly tribal, and glory in the fact of being Kurds. Indeed throughout the country which I crossed during my second journey, if I asked people whether their village were “Osmanli,” I received the emphatic answer, “Kurd.” Khedonun may serve as a sample of the settlements of this district. It seemed fairly well-to-do. The wealth of the villagers consists of their flocks and herds, upon the produce of which they subsist. During winter they stable them in the group of buildings which we had passed, and last winter a pack of wolves destroyed their flock. They said that bears abounded in the neighbourhood. They sow a little wheat, and plant some onions and cabbage; they profess to have tried potatoes, but it was a failure, owing to the late frosts. Indeed the night was very cold, not much above freezing; and even at ten o’clock on the following morning the shade temperature was only 62°, although from sunrise the day had been warmed by a brilliant sun. The wedding was extremely picturesque. The procession, all on horseback, made a circuit of the countryside in the lap of which the hamlet lies. The bride was robed in a red shawl, and sat astride of a milk-white horse. A veil of yellow silk, which floated in the breeze, completely concealed her face. On either side rode two women, veiled and dressed in white. The horsemen, in gala attire, followed or flanked the ladies; all proceeded at a walk. But from time to time this irksome restraint was broken through by an explosion of wildness; and a shouting warrior, mad with excitement, would dash forward at full gallop, brandishing his rifle like a stick.
The Araxes, or Egri Chai, as it is called in the district, flows at a little distance south of the hamlet and receives the runnel which skirts Khedonun. That it was the Araxes appeared plain from the volume of water which it brought, from the direction from which it was flowing, and from our subsequent research. Mounting to an eminence south of the village, we observed some lofty mountains on the sky-line in the west. The boldest peak among them lay almost above the course of the river, as it meandered towards the east. One of the Kurds knew that peak by the name of Sheikhjik. The relation of these mountains to the plateau country we were enabled to ascertain at a later date. Looking up the valley we could see that it was carved out of calcareous deposits, overlaid by flows of lava or tuff. These deposits, which are without doubt lacustrine in character, extend for some miles towards Bingöl.