The first day’s march was very beautiful: by the banks of a river which ran through cultivated valleys and ravines: and here and there were cascades. At the end of the march I was faint, and the Armenian rushed off to the medical stores for some brandy. He then sent a report in to the Amîr, and the next day His Highness kindly sent me his Shikari elephant. Riding the elephant was much easier work than horse riding: I could take a supply of suitable food, and I picked up again. We started at four in the morning, before the others: for an elephant goes slowly, and cavalry and baggage-horses shy, and then on the mountains, or in a crowd, accidents happen. I was rocked along through gorges and valleys and villages. In a village, if a wall were in the way, the elephant kicked it over with his foot, and walked across the garden or orchard, as the case might be. We started at two the next morning, for the road was hilly. The cavalry horses were still tethered in line, and, as we passed them, they struggled and pulled against the foot-ropes to escape the awful creature. It was moonlight, and the deep shadows and gleaming rocks and peaks were the reality of Doré’s fantastic ideas. When we camped, patients were brought to me from the villages as well as from the army: one peasant who had brought a sick child presented me with a lamb. The day after--Sunday--we had to make a long detour to avoid a gorge that was too narrow for the elephant to get through. On Monday morning I turned out at half-past four. It felt bitterly cold, and I put on an ulster. We waited awhile, but no elephant turned up. Some said he was ill with fever; others said the Sultana had sent for him. They therefore saddled the black pony and I mounted. [Sidenote: Dangerous Passes.] We had such awful mountain passes to traverse that the camels and pack-horses were compelled to go another and much longer road. One path I remember on the side of a mountain: it was about five feet wide: in one place it had crumbled away, and was hardly two feet wide, with a precipice going sheer down. The path went steeply up and steeply down, and was covered with little loose stones. It was no good trying to ride it, for on account of the loose pebbles, a horse could not climb it with a man on his back. I got off, put the bridle over my arm, and, scotching my feet on firmer pieces of rock, managed to get up, the horse scrambling after me. Though I was ill and weak, I could not help a burst of laughter at the Armenian as he crawled up on all fours.