"And in the meantime I suppose I am to go back to prison?" said the Armenian. "We shall see," said the Caimacan gravely; "the law must be carried out." I have, perhaps, given the above case more prominence than it deserves, but I have done so because in this instance the governor of Divriki and a Christian were confronted in my presence, and the Armenian made his complaint without the slightest hesitation or fear. Now if the Christians had been so ill-treated as some of their co-religionists would have had me believe Hanistan Ereek would not have been likely to have dared to come forward and find fault with the Cadi of his town, who had adjudicated upon the matter. According to the governor, the people in his district had not shown much readiness to go to the war. In some of the villages, the redif soldiery were very reluctant to leave their homes, and could only be made to do so by the Zaptiehs of the province, who were most of them engaged at present in this duty. "Why do you not give the Armenians arms?" I inquired. "They would turn them against us, and join the Russians," was the governor's reply. "In some districts which are very near Russia, and where the Armenians have the opportunity of seeing the Russians as they are, and not as they pretend to be, the Christians prefer being under the Turkish rule; but the Armenians in our central provinces are constantly being tampered with by Russian agents. If we were to give the Christians arms, Allah only knows what would take place!" I left Divriki at daybreak the following morning, and continued the march towards Arabkir. We ascended once more into the clouds, and, after a four hours' ride, halted to bait our horses at the village of Yanoot—if, indeed, it deserves the name of village—for it consists of a few huts, and about twenty-five inhabitants make up the entire population. Now a curious phenomenon presented itself before us. We were passing a chain of hills which traversed our track from north to south. The northern side of every height was covered with deep snow, on the southern declivities some igneous rocks were exposed to view and glared in the sun. Here the rays were so fierce that not only there was no snow, but the weather became oppressively warm. A few hundred yards further, and winter attacked us again in all its rigour. Our horses were tried to their utmost in forcing a way before them. The road became very rugged. An immense quantity of loose sharp pebbles were lying on the track. Our horses could not see them and were constantly falling on their knees. Not a village or solitary house was met with during our march. It was a picture of desolation. A few magpies, which from time to time flew mournfully across the path, were the only living things besides ourselves.