We passed through several villages; but they are, for the most part, mere hamlets. One of the largest was Gargalik. With the exception of Baïndir, a Karapapakh settlement, they are inhabited by Sipkanli and Hasananli Kurds. We did not meet a caravan; there were few wayfarers; but from time to time an ill-miened Kurd, armed with a muzzle-loader, rode by, taking stock of us as he passed. At Gargalik, where there is a ford between two villages of this name, we were ushered into the largest of the ant-hill tenements. A burly figure, richly dressed, could just be discerned in the dim light, suffused over the cavernous chamber from an aperture in the roof. The figure was seated on the little daïs which, in such dwellings, divides the chamber from the stable, and from which rise the wooden pillars that support the roof. A strong odour from the horses and cattle, almost beside him, vitiated the air. We waited for some little time while the devotee bowed and muttered, or, with head upraised and lifted voice, uttered the climax of his profession of faith. Then, after a brief silence, he approached us, and received our hands, and welcomed us to his abode. It was Ali Bey, son of the defunct Yusuf Pasha, and chief of all Sipkanli Kurds. [229] It was evident that he had been apprised of our approach, for he displayed three imperial decorations on his breast. And he showed us a cigarette-case, of gold encrusted with jewels, the gift of the Sultan, accompanied by an autograph letter. As far as the Kartevin the inhabitants are Sipkanli; lower down the villages are peopled by Hasananli Kurds. A heavy shower--which was a rare occurrence--and the approach of night decided us, when we were opposite the village of Hasuna, to take shelter there and encamp. It is inhabited by Hasananli, who described themselves as raya, or cultivators, and it is surrounded by patches of cereals. Each head of a family owns his patch and his animals. The men stand about and loiter in the grove of willows; the women work incessantly from morn till night. On the following day we mounted to one of the peaks of the Kartevin Dagh, which rises immediately above the village. The purple vetch, and a shower of tiny blossoms from the white gypsophila, varied the monotony of the arid slopes with their boulders of lava. Flowering flax, the vivid green of wheat, already in ear, softened the base of the ridge up which we climbed. Nearing the summit, we came upon the yellow immortelles; a little apple tree, bush-high, rose from the crevices in the crags of the peak. This crest had an elevation of 7580 feet above the sea, or of 2400 feet above the village. But the ridges on the north attain a greater height, perhaps of several hundred feet. The Kartevin Dagh appeared to us to be a radial mass, with a number of bold ridges and deep valleys. It is entirely of eruptive volcanic origin.