Thus Kurna fell into British hands. The whole garrison surrendered, and the Turkish officers gave up their swords; but as a compliment to the commander his sword was returned to him. Chaldea was now in our possession, and we were well placed to beat off attacks from the north. There were still, however, many Turkish troops in the neighbourhood, but they did not make any serious attack on us. We had achieved our purpose, and had built up a strong barricade against an enemy advance to the Persian Gulf and a threat to the security of India. [Illustration: Basra and Kurna.] "We are now," wrote an officer on December 13th, "in a big entrenched camp outside Kurna. . . . Although this is my own regiment, and one is naturally proud of it, I must say they have behaved splendidly. They are a jolly good lot, always merry and bright, and never any trouble. By the way, I heard a rather funny remark last night by one of the men. The mosquitoes are rather bad here, and in the middle of the night, about 1 a.m., I woke up and heard the man say to his neighbour: ''Ere, Bill, if this is the garden of Eden, I wonder what Adam and Eve did with these 'ere mosquitoes a-buzzin' around them.'" [Footnote 177: See map on page 277.] CHAPTER XXXII. THE CAMPAIGN IN THE CAUCASUS. While Anglo-Indian troops were winning easy victories on the desert sands of Chaldea, Russians and Turks were locked in deadly combat amidst the rocky uplands of the broad isthmus that extends between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea. The most striking natural feature of this region is the great chain of the Caucasus, the most stupendous mountain mass of Western Eurasia. It strikes from north-west to south-east right across the country like a huge frowning wall, and in this respect resembles the Pyrenees, though its peaks are vastly higher and much of it is crowned with perpetual snow. So formidable and complete is this great natural barrier that no railway crosses it, and only two main roads have been constructed over its passes. The railway which carries the traveller from the north to the south of the chain has to creep round by way of the strip of low land between its eastern end and the Caspian Sea. One would suppose that this huge barrier would mark off race from race, civilization from civilization, and religion from religion; that Europe would stop short on its northern slopes, and Asia begin on its southern side. This is true in a general sense, but the whole tangled region of lofty mountains, with its maze of spurs and plateaus and foothills, with towns and villages five or six thousand feet above sea-level, is inhabited by many more or less Christian tribes, and is part of Russia. It forms the government of the Caucasus, and its southern boundary marches with Turkey on the west and with Persia on the east. The Turkish fortress of Erzerum is only about seventy miles from the Russian frontier.