The change from camp-life to the luxury of Government House, with the charm of the society of Sir Garnet and Lady Wolseley and officers of the staff, was a most agreeable interlude in the usually monotonous journey through Cyprus. The view from the verandah had changed, and was certainly not charming, as the few green tints that had looked hopeful on our former visit had turned to brown; but the house within more than compensated for the cheerlessness of the exterior landscape. A picnic excursion to the castle of St. Hilarion had been arranged for the 29th instant by Colonel Greaves, C. B., chief of the staff, who kindly included us in the invitation. This point was seldom visited, as it was situated 3240 feet above the sea upon the sky-line of the crags above Kyrenia, and the ride there and back covered a distance of about thirty miles from Lefkosia. The energy of English ladies rather astonishes the people of this country, where inertia is considered to be happiness, and although our animals were ordered to be saddled punctually at 6 A.M. the owner in Lefkosia was sceptical as to our actual start at so early an hour; therefore much time was lost on the morning in question in sending messengers vainly to and fro for the missing mule and pony; and 8 A.M. arrived before their appearance. The party had started two hours earlier. Colonel White, 1st Royal Scots, who was the chief commissioner at Lefkosia, had kindly waited to accompany us. As St. Hilarion was only a short distance to the left of the Kyrenia road, I had determined not to return, but to send the camels and luggage on direct. We left all unnecessary luggage locked up within the vans, which Sir Garnet Wolseley kindly permitted us to leave at head-quarters. We took leave of our good and big friend Georgi and his sharp companion Theodori, who returned to Dali, where Georgi would meet the only Venus that I have seen in Cyprus, his wife; but even that pretty Venus was ruined by high boots and baggy trousers.
Crossing the dry bed of the Pedias below the Government House, we struck a line over the open and withered plain to a direct route to Kyrenia. At a distance of about five miles from Lefkosia, the broad and well-trodden road became lost in a variety of independent paths, which at length converged into one narrow route that ascended a curious formation of water-washed and utterly denuded hills, composed of sandstone, claystone, and peculiar deposits of sedimentary rock, which in places resembled an artificial pavement. In many places the strata were vertical, exhibiting the confusion that had been created by the upheaval. Having passed through a succession of ups and downs for about three miles, sometimes winding through narrow gorges where the soil was covered with an efflorescence of salt, at other places clambering over loose rocks and entering narrow glens, we arrived in a plain at the foot of the bold and bluff range of the Carpas mountains. The path led to a village almost concealed amongst dwarf-cypress and pines, at a spot where the ascent commenced to a deep gorge forming a gap between the heights upon either side, through which the road was being rendered accessible for wheeled conveyances to Kyrenia.
We had quitted the Messaria and its misery; thank Heaven, we once more looked upon green trees, and magnificent cliffs of compact grey limestone tinted with various colours according to the presence of metallic substances, instead of wearying the eyes with the depressing brown of a withered surface. The road was improving under the hands of several working parties, and the animals stepped along at a cheerful pace. On the left hand were exceedingly steep slopes, ascending for several hundred yards to the base of cliffs, which rose in many places almost perpendicular to the height of more than 2000 feet above the sea. Upon our right we skirted a deep ravine, the bottom and sides of which were completely covered with mastic shrubs, and myrtles. Above this gorge the cliffs rose in imposing grandeur to about 3000 feet, the clefts being filled with evergreens; and in some unapproachable heights which man had not invaded the Pinus maritima ornamented the grey crags with its foliage of pale green.
We should have turned off to the left towards St. Hilarion, but, without a guide, we overshot the path, and having ridden about three miles through the gorge, always ascending, we suddenly burst upon the magnificent view of the northern side. At this moment a few heavy drops of rain fell from inky clouds which had been gathering among the mountains, and I thought it advisable to forego the excursion to St. Hilarion, and to push on towards Kyrenia, three miles distant, though apparently almost at our feet.
The dark clouds above us added to the beauty of the scenery. We looked down upon the blue sea, and the snow-covered mountains of Caramania in the northern distance, with the beautiful foreground of perpendicular green cliffs upon our right, up to nearly 3000 feet, and the abrupt mountain sides upon the left, which formed the entrance to the gorge. The narrow strip of three miles between the sea margin and the point upon which we stood was a green forest of caroub-trees, almost to the water's edge. The town, and its striking feature the Venetian fort, stood out in clear relief against the background of the sea. To the right and left, farther than the eye could reach, were trees of caroubs, varied by almonds, mulberries, and occasional date-palms, interspersed with highly irrigated fields of emerald green. The beautiful old monastery of Bellapais, erected by the Templars, although in reality half ruined, appeared from this distance like some noble ancestral mansion, surrounded by all that could make a landscape perfect: trees, water, mountains, precipices; above which towered the castle of Buffavento upon the craggy sky-line; while to the left, cutting with keen edges the dark cloud that hovered over it, were the walls and towers of St. Hilarion; where by this time we should have been eating luncheon with a charming party. Pit-pat came the heavy drops; and still drinking in the magnificent view, we descended the stony and steep path towards Kyrenia. When we arrived near the base, after a descent of about a mile and three-quarters, a perfectly straight road of a good width led direct to Kyrenia, through a forest of the shady and ever green caroub-trees. By this time the shower had cleared away, and only a few light clouds hovered over the high point of St. Hilarion, and having had nothing to eat, we began to wish for balloons to make a direct ascent to the well-provided party on the heights above us, who were enjoying the hospitality of Colonel Greaves. We comforted ourselves with the idea that we had at all events been wise in foregoing pleasure when upon the march, as the camels had been ordered to start from Lefkosia, and it would be advisable that the camp should be arranged without delay. We accordingly dismounted about half a mile from Kyrenia, and having tied the animals beneath a wide-spreading caroub, we selected another tree, beneath which we sat to await the arrival of the camels and servants; in the meantime I sent the muleteer into the town to buy us something to eat. After about an hour he returned, with a bottle of Commandoria wine, a bunch of raw onions, a small goat's-milk cheese, a loaf of brown native bread, and a few cigarettes, which the good, thoughtful fellow had made himself for my own private enjoyment. Many years of my life have been passed in picnicking, and when really hungry, it is astonishing how vulgar diet is appreciated; we regretted the loss of our friends, but we nevertheless enjoyed the simple fare, and having looked at our watches, we speculated upon the probable arrival of the camels and luggage, and waited patiently beneath the tree.
There is a limit to all endurance, and when 5 P.M. arrived without a sign of camels, we came to the conclusion that something had gone wrong. It was in vain that I had searched the pass with my binocular; only the white thread between the green shrubs appeared, that denoted the path; and this was desolate.
At length I observed something moving on the crest of the pass: mules or horses! then a parasol! somebody was coming; most likely returning to Kyrenia from the picnic? Presently a mule, saddled but without a rider, came galloping down the road. This we stopped, and secured; it looked like a practical result of a good luncheon and champagne cup. Shortly after this first appearance a dismounted English servant came walking down the road after his mule, which he was happy to recover from our hands. He had neither seen nor heard anything of our camels or people, but his master, the chief commissioner of Kyrenia (Dr. Holbeach, 60th Rifles), was approaching, together with Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson, all of whom were returning from St. Hilarion. At length the distant parasol drew nearer, and by degrees we could distinguish the party as they emerged from the pass upon the broad straight road.
As there are no highwaymen in Cyprus, I had no hesitation in walking suddenly out of the green wood upon the road-side and intercepting them as they arrived in front of our position; I explained that we were "waifs and strays" upon the wide world of Cyprus without baggage or servants, or, in fact, what Shakespeare calls "sans everything." Mr. Holbeach with much kindness and hospitality captured us as vagrants, and insisted upon escorting us to his house. Mrs. Stevenson was good enough to supply Lady Baker with a few little necessaries for the night, and Mr. Holbeach, having thoughtfully made up an impromptu little dinner-party of all named, we passed a most pleasant evening, although I fear that our sudden invasion of his bachelor's quarters must have caused him some inconvenience.
On the following morning, we enjoyed the splendid view from the covered balcony at the back of Mr. Holbeach's house, which showed the richest foreground in Cyprus in the dark green of caroub-forest and gardens of fruit-trees intermingled with plots of barley already in the ear. This rich front was backed by the wall of dark limestone cliffs two miles distant, 3000 feet elevation, with the castles of Buffavento and St. Hilarion perched left and right on the giddy summits of the highest crags, which in the clear atmosphere apparently overhung our position. We then breakfasted, took leave of our hospitable host, and rode back to Lefkosia to inquire into the cause of the delay.
On arrival we found a string of mules just starting, as the camels that had been engaged yesterday had never appeared. I sent off the servants and animals, with orders to pitch the tent upon the site of the old camp of the 42nd Highlanders, within a mile of Kyrenia; we then once more encroached upon the kindness of Sir Garnet and Lady Wolseley for the night. On the following morning we rode to Kyrenia, sixteen miles, and found tents pitched in a delightful situation, and the camp swept and arranged in perfect order. There could not have been a better site for a military camp, as the ground was firm and sloped gradually towards the sea, above which the elevation may have been about 120 feet. The beautiful caroub-trees afforded a dense shade for individual tents and for unlimited numbers of men. The ground had been well drained, and every care had been taken to ensure the health of the troops; but in spite of all sanitary arrangements they had suffered severely from fever, by which, although only four had actually succumbed, and now lay in the lonely little cemetery close to our tents, the regiment had been demoralised, and was withdrawn from this lonely position completely fever-smitten. I made close inquiries among the natives, and all agreed that the past year, having been unusually wet, had been exceptionally unhealthy, and the inhabitants had suffered almost to the same degree as the Europeans. It was painfully clear that when the rainfall was sufficiently plentiful to produce abundant harvests it at the same time ensured a crop of fevers.