Wherever I had been since my departure from Larnaca the natives had complained of the effects of fever to which they are subjected during the summer months; but they were unanimous in declaring that "the general sickness of the last year was exceptional, and that the fevers were not of a dangerous nature." It is well known that upon our first occupation of the island in July, 1878, all troops, both English and Indian, suffered to a degree that would have rendered them unfit for active service. It is true that the actual mortality was not excessive; but the strength of an army must be reckoned by the EFFECTIVE force, and not by numbers. There can be no doubt that, owing to a season declared by the inhabitants to be exceptionally unhealthy, and the unfortunate necessity for a military occupation during the extreme heat of July and August, the troops being overworked, badly fed, and unprotected from the sun, the newly-acquired island was stamped with a pestilential character, and Cyprus became a byeword as a fever-smitten failure. I shall give my personal experiences, untinged by any prejudice. The natural features of the country produced a sad impression upon my first arrival in a scene where the depressing influence of a barren aspect must to a certain extent affect the nervous system; but a careful examination of the entire surface of the island subsequently modified my first impressions, with results which these pages will describe.

There was no object in prolonging my visit to Dali; the tombs of ancient Idalium had already been ransacked by the consuls of various nations; and had I felt disposed to disturb the repose of the dead, nominally in the interests of science, but at the same time to turn an honest penny by the sale of their remains, I should have been unable to follow the example of the burrowing antiquarians who had preceded me; a prohibition having been placed upon all such enterprises by the English government.

It is supposed that Idalium is one of the largest and richest treasuries of the dead in Cyprus. For several centuries the tombs had been excavated and pillaged in the hopes of discovering objects of value. The first robbers were those who were simply influenced by the gold and other precious ornaments which were accompaniments of the corpse; the modern despoilers were resurrectionists who worked with the object of supplying any museums that would purchase the funeral spoil.

It is a curious contradiction in our ideas of propriety, which are measured apparently by uncertain intervals of time, that we regard as felonious a man who disinters a body and steals a ring from the fingers of the corpse a few days after burial in an English churchyard, but we honour and admire an individual who upon a wholesale scale digs up old cemeteries and scatters the bones of ancient kings and queens, princes, priests, and warriors, and having collected the jewellery, arms, and objects of vanity that were buried with them, neglects the once honoured bones, but sells the gold and pottery to the highest bidder. Sentiment is measured and weighed by periods, and as grief is mitigated by time, so also is our respect for the dead, even until we barter their ashes for gold as an honourable transaction.

The most important object of antiquity that has been recently discovered by excavations at Dali is the statue of Sargon, king of Assyria, 707 B.C., to whom the Cypriote kings paid tribute. This was sent to the Berlin Museum by Mr. Hamilton Lang, and is described in his interesting work upon Cyprus during the term of several years' consulship.

The ruins of ancient cities offer no attraction to the traveller in this island, as nothing is to be seen upon the surface except disjointed stones and a few fallen columns of the commonest description. The destruction has been complete, and if we wish to make discoveries, it is necessary to excavate to a considerable depth; but as all such explorations are prohibited, the subject remains fruitless. General di Cesnola, whose work upon the antiquities of Cyprus must remain unrivalled, describes the tombs as from forty to fifty-five feet beneath the present surface, and even those great depths had not secured them from disturbance, as many that he opened had already been ransacked by former explorers.

On the 7th of February the thermometer at eight A.M. was only 40 degrees. The oxen were put into their yokes, and after a discussion concerning the best route to Lefkosia, it was agreed that Georgi should be the responsible guide, as he was a native of the country.

When travelling on horseback through the district of Messaria there is no difficulty of roads, provided you know the country thoroughly, as you may canter, in the absence of enclosures, in any direction you may please; but the Cypriotes have an awkward habit of leading their watercourses straight through any route that may exist for wheeled conveyances, and you suddenly arrive at a deep ditch and high bank, which block the thoroughfare. Georgi had assured us that no difficulty would delay us between Dali and the high road from Larnaca to Lefkosia, which we should intersect about half-way between the two termini. Instead of this, after travelling for a couple of miles along a good hardened track, we arrived at a series of trenches which effectually stopped all progress. Each van had a pickaxe and shovel, therefore we all set to work in rapid relief of each other to level the obstructions, and by this hard exercise the thermometer appeared to rise quickly from the low temperature of the morning. The oxen were good, and by dint of our united exertions in heaving the wheels and pushing behind, we dragged the vans through the soft ground that had filled the ditches, and then slowly travelled across ploughed fields and alternate plains of a hard surface covered with abominable thistles.

We passed on our left a large farm that exhibited a wonderful contrast to the general barrenness of the country. The fields were green with young wheat and barley, and numerous sakyeeahs or cattle-wheels for raising water supplied the means of unfailing irrigation. I believe this property belonged to Mr. Mattei, and there could be no stronger example of the power that should be developed throughout this island to render it independent of precarious seasons. It is a simple question of a first outlay that is absolutely necessary to ensure the crops. Throughout the barren plain of Messaria water exists in unfailing quantity within a few yards of the parched surface—thus at the same time that the crops are perishing from the want of rain, the roots are actually within a few feet of the desired supply. The cattle-wheels of Cyprus are very inferior to the sakyeeah of Egypt, but are arranged upon a similar principle, by a chain of earthenware pots or jars upon a rope and wheel, which, revolving above a deep cistern, ascend from the depth below, and deliver the water into a trough or reservoir upon the surface. From the general reservoir small watercourses conduct the stream to any spot desired. This is the most ancient system of artificial irrigation by machinery, and it is better adapted for the requirements of this country than any expensive European inventions. As I shall devote a chapter specially to the all-important question of irrigation, I shall postpone further remarks upon the cattle-wheel; but the farm in question which formed a solitary green oasis in the vast expanse of withered surface was a sufficient example of the necessity, and of the fruitful result of this simple and inexpensive method. It is a mere question of outlay, and the government must assist the cultivators by loans for the special erection of water-wheels. But of this more hereafter.

At about six miles from Dali we struck the road between Larnaca and Lefkosia (or Nicosia). The newly-established mail-coach with four horses passed us, with only one passenger. We met it again on the following day, with a solitary unit; and it appeared that the four horses on many occasions had no other weight behind them than the driver and the letters. With this instance of inertia before their eyes, certain lunatics (or WISE CONTRACTORS) suggested the necessity of a railway for twenty-eight miles to connect the two capitals! The mail had an ephemeral existence, and after running fruitlessly to and fro for a few months, it withdrew altogether, leaving an abundant space in Cyprus for my two vans, without the slightest chance of a collision upon the new highway, as there were no other carriages on the roads, excepting the few native two-wheeled carts.