Kurd and Turk pursued them and massacred men, women and children. The houses were searched and then put on fire. The scene of the massacre was most horrible. The enemies took a special delight in butchering the Dalvorig people. An immense crowd of Kurd and Turk soldiery fell upon the Dalvorig village, busy to search the houses, to find out hidden furniture, and then to put fire to the village. A native of the Dalvorig village, succeeded in hiding from the searching soldiers, and when, twelve days after the destruction of his home, the army went away, he came out of his hiding place and looked among the corpses for his own dead. He found and buried his father, two nephews and his aunt. The bodies were swollen enormously in the sun, and the stench was something awful in all the surroundings. He witnessed many acts of military cruelties which are not proper to be reported. In June, 1893, four young Armenians and their wives, living only two miles from the city of Van, where the Governor and a large military force reside, were picking herbs on the hillside. They carefully kept together and intended to return before night. They were observed by a band of passing Kurds, who in broad daylight fell upon the defenseless party, butchered the young men, and, as to the brides, it is needless to relate further. The villagers going out the next day found the four bodies, not simply dead, but slashed and disfigured almost beyond recognition. They resolved to make a desperate effort to let their wrongs at least be known. Hastily yoking up four rude ox carts they placed on each the naked remains of one of the victims, with his distracted widow sitting by the side, shorn of her hair in token of dishonor. This gruesome procession soon reached the outskirts of the city, where it was met by soldiers sent to turn it back. The unarmed villagers offered no resistance, but declared their readiness to perish if not heard. The soldiers shrank from extreme measures that might cause trouble among the thirty-thousand Armenians of Van, who rapidly gathered about the scene. The Turkish bayonets retreated before the bared breasts of the villagers. With ever-increasing numbers, but without tumult, the procession passed before the doors of the British and Russian vice-consulates, of the Persian consul-general, the chief of police and other high officials, till it paused before the great palace of the Governor. At this point Bahri Pasha, the Governor, stuck his head out of the second story window and said: 'I see it. Too bad! Take them away and bury them. I will do what is necessary.' Within two days some Kurds were brought in, among whom were several who were positively identified by the women; but, upon their denying the crime, they were immediately released, and escaped.