Next morning we proceeded towards the extremity of the Akh Dagh, where it sinks into the plain. After passing a copious spring, welling up in a little basin (the source of the Akher Göl Su), we reached the Armenian hamlet of Gunduz. Our path had led us over ground which was fairly high, and was composed of travertine. A new mountain had come to view behind the Khamur heights. Although of imposing size, it is not placed upon maps; and none of our people knew its name. It was the bold and isolated Bilejan. From Gunduz we made an excursion to the banks of the Bingöl Su, at the large Armenian village of Karachoban. The stream was winding at the base of the Khamur heights, through a river-valley about a mile in width. The fact that these heights are not the train of a volcano, as their appearance might suggest, had already been divined as we made our way at a distance; it was now established beyond doubt. They were seen to consist of lacustrine deposits; higher up, patches of white limestone emerged from the scanty bush. The lavas of Khamur rose at once above and behind them, towering up in terraces. The block of mountain had become low; the river pierces its extremities about two miles below the village. There it assumes its natural course, so long interrupted, and meanders idly to the Murad. The Khamur heights are crossed by a track which we could see from the plain of Khinis in the neighbourhood of Dedeveren. A portion or the whole of that section of the block is known as Zirnek Dagh. While we were returning to Gunduz a party of four horsemen were seen galloping towards us from Karachoban. They proved to be an officer of zaptiehs and three men. We had received a summons, when in the village, to visit the officer; but had excused ourselves from want of time. It was a forbidding picture, these zaptiehs living at free quarters in an Armenian village. The fierce and almost black face of the officer fawned obsequiously upon us when he had learnt who we were.