We dismounted and walked down the long and steep pass, the mules being led behind. The entire face of the perpendicular cliffs was cretaceous limestone, but the scaly slopes of a hill upon our left, about a mile and a half distant, formed a loose heap of shale, which had slipped, either during earthquakes or heavy rains, in great masses to the bottom. After a long and tedious descent we reached the base of the pass, and halted in a broad river-bed full of rocks and stones of all sizes, which had been rounded by the torrent of the rainy season. There was no water except in small pools that had been scraped in the sand for the benefit of the travelling animals. Having watered our mules and remounted, we ascended the steep banks of the stream and continued towards the sea, feeling a sensible difference in the temperature since we had descended from the heights. The country was exceedingly pretty, as it sloped gently downwards for three or four miles, the surface ornamented with caroub-trees, until we at length reached the sea-beach and crossed the sandy mouth of the river's bed. The crops of cereals were perished by drought in the absence of irrigation; but upon continuing our route parallel with the beach we observed an immediate improvement, as the water was conducted by artificial channels to the various fields. This arrangement had been effected by erecting a temporary dam in the river's bed far among the mountains, and thus leading the stream into the conduit for many miles. Small brooks intersected our path along the coast, and in several places I remarked the ruins of ancient aqueducts. . . . There was nothing of peculiar interest upon this route; the land inclined upwards from the sea for six or seven miles to the foot of the mountain range, all of which was either cultivated with cereals or was covered with caroub- trees and olives. Many villages were dotted over the surface; these were green with mulberry and various fruit-trees. With the sea upon our right, and the waves dashing briskly upon the rocky shore, the scene was agreeable; but the sun was hot, and we were not sorry to see the distant minarets of Ktima after a ride of seventeen miles from Arodes. We passed the ruins of ancient Paphos upon our right, and shortly afterwards ascended the rocky slope upon which the capital of the district, Ktima, is situated. It is a large town, and as we rode through the bazaar the narrow street was almost blocked with huge piles of oranges that had been imported from Jaffa, the season for the Cyprus fruit being nearly over.