It was a wild route to Gallibornu, through a succession of small valleys separated by wooded heights, and bounded by hills, either bare in white cliffs, or with steep slopes thickly covered with evergreens. We passed a few miserable villages, one of which was solely inhabited by gipsies, who came out to meet us clad in rags and extremely filthy, but the faces of the women were good-looking. We crossed numerous watercourses in the narrow bottoms between the hills; their steep banks were fringed with bushes which formed likely spots for woodcocks, but my dogs found nothing upon the route except a few partridges and francolin, although, as usual, they hunted throughout the march. After crossing a series of steep hills, and observing a marked contrast in the habits of the people, who constructed their dwellings upon the heights instead of in the unhealthy glens, we arrived in the closely pent-in valley that forms the approach to Gallibornu. This village is of considerable extent, and is inhabited exclusively by Turks. We entered the valley through a narrow gap between the hills, which on our left formed perpendicular cliffs, with the usual steep slopes of debris near the base. The upper cliffs, about 400 feet above the lower level, were marked with numerous parallel ledges and were full of blue-rock pigeons, which built their nests in the clefts and crevices; the summits of these heights were the table-tops which characterise this formation. It was difficult to select a camping-place, as the valley would become mud in the event of heavy rains. We had experienced daily showers since we left Volokalida, and the lower grounds were damp; I disliked the immediate neighbourhood of a village, and the only available spot was rather dangerous, as it was situated upon a flattish knoll, so near the base of the cliff that enormous blocks of stone many tons in weight lay in all directions, which had fallen from the impending heights. I examined these, and found some that were comparatively recent; I had also observed upon our entrance to the valley that a great portion of the cliff face had lately fallen, forming an avalanche of rocks that would have destroyed a village: this my guide informed me was the result of last year's excessive rain. I examined the heights above us with my glass, and observed some crags that Polyphemus would have delighted to hurl upon Acis when courting his Galatea; but as no Cyclops existed in this classical island I determined to risk the chances of a rock-displacement and to pitch the tent upon a flat surface among the fallen blocks. As a rule such localities should be avoided. It is impossible to calculate the probable downfall of a crag, which, having formed a portion of the cliff, has been undermined by the breaking away of lower rocks, and, overhanging the perpendicular, may be secure during dry weather, but may become dislodged in heavy rain, when the cement-like surroundings are dissolved: the serious vibration caused by