After a short halt, we led our horses up the slope, which has a gradient of 12°. It was covered with grass, and whole beds of wild pea. These sides of the crater are seamed with deep gullies, which display in section the lava-flows. The dark green obsidian of the uppermost beds was glittering in the sun. A direct ascent of twenty minutes brought us to the surface of a natural terrace, at a height of 7900 feet. We were surprised to find a well-used track, making use of this terrace to reach the summit of the circular wall. Less astonishment was aroused by the presence there of a troop of cavalry; they had come to meet us from their camp within the crater. For more than a week, both cavalry and infantry had been patrolling this strange place, in anticipation of our visit. It is indeed probable that, without these extraordinary precautions, we should have found it impossible to carry on our work. That we were able to go where we pleased, whether in or around the crater, we owe to the kindness of the local authorities, and, in particular, to the late Vali of Bitlis. Our excellent friend, the Kaimakam of Akhlat, personally accompanied us, and remained with us during our stay. The view from this terrace over the landscape of the east is one of the most inspiring that could be conceived. The western inlets of Lake Van, with their long promontories and varied outline--with the precipitous barrier of the Kurdish mountains rising along the one shore, and from the other the fabric of Sipan--are perhaps the most beautiful portion of the inland sea. They scarcely figure upon existing maps. Certainly when you rise above them, and the expanse of the water is spread beneath you, and Sipan emerges free of all lesser heights--while as yet their essential detail has not been lost by distance, but the vast prospects, which they lack, have been regained--these western inlets are the pride of the scenery of Lake Van. The setting sun sheds a mellow light upon the great volcano, robed in snow, upon the white summits of the Kurdish range, upon the dim outline of Varag. Around the field of pale water are shed a thousand delicate hues, over peak and dome, and buried garden and arable. We can still see the lonely tomb upon the headland. On the opposite coast we see Surb, fairest of little bays; the steep cliffs behind Garzik; the arms of the Sheikh Ora crater, almost encircling the lake admitted to its inmost core. Such is the landscape--so full of light and most ethereal colour--that has dazzled the eye during the ascent of the rampart. We ride on, along the terrace, with the uppermost slope on our right hand. It has a gradient of about 17°, and is largely covered up with white pumice sand. The track worms its way to a fork in the outline, which we reach in about ten minutes. It is just after six o'clock. The ground falls away, and a scene expands before us which Mother Earth, repentant of her orgies, has acted wisely in surrounding with a wall.