The whole circumference of the gigantic circle towers around us, the vaulted slopes of the outer sides breaking down with precipitous cliffs, which, in some places, attain a height of over 2000 feet above the rubble at their base. The impression of height and steepness is accentuated by the lighting--the sun setting behind the crater. The same circumstance increases the weirdness of the vast spaces of the interior, with their multitude of chaotic forms. Flatness is the prevailing characteristic of the bottom of the basin--but the surface has been blown out by subterranean explosions, or sunk into deep pits, or flooded with viscous lavas, oozing up, and cooling into comb-shaped crags. Here it is a shapeless hill covered with white volcanic dust; there a lava stream, resembling rocks from which the tide has receded, that compels a large circuit from point to point. The coarse herbage has already been burnt by the sun, and its hues assimilated to the volcanic sand. These ragged yellows intermingle with the sombre lavas; and the only touch of beauty in this hell of Nature is a little piece of blue at its furthest side. It is just a glimpse that we obtain of the principal lake. But what is the meaning of these many paths which seam the interior, arguing a considerable traffic to and fro. Are there villages in the crater? We have never heard of any; we are assured that none exist. Not a fire, no light is anywhere visible; but the tracks are broad, and have all the appearance of being regularly used. We feel surprise and express it to the Kaimakam. He answers naïvely that Kurds come here now and then. After a short halt, the whole party defiles down the narrow path--zaptiehs, cavalry, a detachment of infantry. Looking backwards, it is a long, thin line from base to summit, the number of horses making an imposing array. Arrived at the foot of the wall, we skirt the cliff for some distance in a north-westerly direction. It is our object to find some shade for our camp. But in this search we become involved in some deep ravines, covered with groves of aspen and birch. Juniper conceals the hollows in the rocky surface, and adds to our difficulties in the failing light. None of the trees are of sufficient height for our purpose; and the Kaimakam entreats us to avoid these wooded ravines, which are, he says, the favourite haunt of bears. They descend to the shore of the warm lake. At last we espy a clearing, a kind of platform, free of brushwood, yet close to the aspen groves. It overlooks, at a considerable elevation above it, the mirror of a fresh-water lake. The peaceful water fills the whole western segment of the crater. Great, black masses in the heights about us intensify the darkness; they are composed of obsidian, pure, and black as jet. On a tiny promontory of the opposite shore a shepherd's fire starts from the shadows. Failing shade, it is just the site for an encampment, and here we erect our tents (Fig. 186).