The shape of this great ruin is very irregular; nearly square at the S. W. corner, it narrows almost to a point at the N. E. The palace occupies the southern angle. At the opposite, or northern, extremity are the remains of the village of Kouyunjik, from which the mound takes its name.[25] From this spot a steep road leads to the plain, forming the only access to the summit of the mound for loaded animals or carts. There are ravines on all sides of Kouyunjik, except that facing the Tigris. If not entirely worn by the winter rains, they have, undoubtedly, been deepened and increased by them. They are strewed with fragments of pottery, bricks, and sometimes stone and burnt alabaster, whilst the falling earth frequently discloses in their sides vast masses of solid brick masonry, which fall in when undermined by the rains. Through these ravines are carried the steep and narrow pathways leading to the top of the mound. The Khauser winds round the eastern base of Kouyunjik, and leaving it near the angle occupied by the ruins of the palace, runs in a direct line to the Tigris. Although a small and sluggish stream, it has worn for itself a deep bed, and is only fordable near the mound immediately below the southern corner, where the direct road from Mosul crosses it, and at the northern extremity where a flour mill is turned by its waters. After rain it becomes an impetuous torrent, overflowing its banks, and carrying all before it. It then rises very suddenly, and as suddenly subsides. The Tigris now flows about half a mile from the mound, but once undoubtedly washed its base. Between them is a rich alluvium deposited by the river during its gradual retreat; it is always under cultivation, and is divided into corn fields, and melon and cucumber beds.[26] In this plain stands the small modern village of Kouyunjik, removed for convenience from its ancient site on the summit of the mound. In Mosul I had to call upon the governor, and renew my acquaintance with the principal inhabitants, whose good will was in some way necessary to the pleasant, if not successful, prosecution of my labors. Kiamil Pasha had been lately named to the pashalic. He was the sixth or seventh pasha who had been appointed since I left, for it is one of the banes of Turkish administration that, as soon as an officer becomes acquainted with the country he is sent to govern, and obtains any influence over its inhabitants, he is recalled to make room for a new ruler. Kiamil had been ambassador at Berlin, and had visited several European courts. His manners were eminently courteous and polished; his intelligence, and what is of far more importance in a Turkish governor, his integrity, were acknowledged. His principal defects were great inactivity and indolence, and an unfortunate irritability of temper, leading him to do foolish and mischievous things, of which he generally soon found cause to repent.