The peculiarity of this landscape, is the strong contrast offered by its principal features: the blue sea, the snowy mountains, and the island itself; whilst the latter again presents three distinct features, the dark mountains covering the western half of the country, the long chain of hills traversing the Carpasian peninsula, and between these the brown and golden tinted plains. Only once in my life could I hope to gaze upon a scene of such magnificent beauty. The highest point of the mountain which was entirely free from snow, is divided into three peaks closely resembling each other in appearance. The centre one of these, according to my own measurement, was 6160 feet (instead of 7000 feet) above the level of the sea. Unger makes this peak only 5897 feet high, according to the map contained in his work on Cyprus. It is true I had only my little aneroid to go by, but it has never to my knowledge failed me yet. In vain I searched in all directions for any trace of ancient ruins; I found nothing save upheaved stones, and rubbish. I do not hesitate to assure my readers that as I stood at that immense height above the surrounding scenery, entirely cut off as it seemed from every living creature, an indescribable dread, that was almost fear, crept over me. Not even a bird disturbed the air; and beneath me, as far as the eye could reach, not a sign of animation was to be seen. On some of the neighbouring hills I could fancy I saw small villages; but what appeared to be houses, were probably only rocks. The sun began to set, and a chilly breeze warned me that I had better descend. I had not gone far before I saw Hussein waiting below with the horses. I waved my hat to attract his attention as I observed him looking upwards, but strong as were his eyes, he could not distinguish me at such an elevation even in that clear atmosphere. Our way to Troaditissa proved much farther than we expected, and night had long closed in before we reached our destination. CHAPTER XII. CYPRUS IN ANCIENT TIMES.