Later on, I procured a guide, and walked to the foot of the rock. A narrow pathway was cut in the solid stone. The track was not more than twelve inches wide, as we ascended it became narrower at every moment. At last we arrived at a spot where the path had given way. There was a chasm about twelve feet wide. The guide hesitated, and no wonder, for if he had essayed the leap and missed it, he must have fallen at least a hundred feet on to the crags below. "Effendi," he said, "I will try and cross if you like, but if my foot slips I shall be killed. You can see the entrance to the caverns from the place where you are standing." It was not possible, even if I had wished it, to pass him and try the jump myself. The sun was nearly down, and ere a rope could be brought, night would be upon us. Reluctantly I retraced my steps, having to go backward for some distance owing to the narrowness of the ledge. Should any other traveller chance to visit Istanos, and be able to stay there a day or two, it would be well worth his while to procure a rope and examine these, as far as I can learn, unexplored grottos. On returning to the Mudir's house, I found a levee of the principal inhabitants, Armenians as well as Turks. I was then informed that they had come to welcome me to their village. The real reason being that they wished to hear the latest news from Constantinople. No newspapers find their way to these out-of-the-way villages. The inhabitants can only learn what is going on in the capital through the arrival of a traveller. An old Armenian priest was one of the visitors. He sat by the side of the Mudir, on a raised platform in the centre of the room. The legs of these two gentlemen were entirely hid from view, and although the room was very chilly where I was sitting, the rest of the party did not seem to feel the low temperature. I now discovered that there was a hole in the platform. A pan of live charcoal had been placed in the recess. The natives, enveloped in furs, and with their feet over the embers, were able to withstand the cold. The platform was partly covered with a Persian rug. A divan alongside the walls made up the furniture of the room. In the background and near the door stood the servants of the Mudir, and the less important inhabitants. It was not considered etiquette for them to sit in the presence of their superiors. They remained with arms folded and eyes bent down in token of humility. When the Mudir thought that they had humbled themselves sufficiently, he made a sign to them. They all squatted down on their haunches. "Has the Conference commenced?" inquired the Mudir. "Yes." "What is it all about?" said another old Turk, the Cadi. "It is to see if arrangements can be made so as to prevent war," I replied. "But we do not want to go to war with any one," said the Mudir. "Russia wishes to go to war with us." "Why is the Conference not held at St. Petersburg?" asked another of the visitors.