These _kerezes_ are made by sinking pits at intervals of about fifty yards, to a depth of about thirty feet, and tunnelling from one to the other. Many of them date back to the Urartian period of history. In this case, the troops were able to ascertain that the objects of their search were probably in a certain length of channel; but it was difficult to devise any means of making sure, or of getting them out. One soldier, however, volunteered to be lowered down alone to investigate; a plucky act, for it entailed something like a descent into the den of wolves at bay. Down he went; and discovered that they had selected exactly the right one of the series of pits, for he was lowered into the very midst of the gang of Fedais. They seized him, of course, and were about to kill him, when he got his word in first. "Look here, you can kill me of course, but what good will it do you? When I do not come out, my officer will know that you are here, and you can just be smoked out like jackals. Your game is up, and you had better surrender to me." Well, the position was hopeless; and possibly eight and forty hours in a dark drain, sitting cramped together with your feet in cold water, and the prospect of slow suffocation to follow, has a damping effect on the courage of the bravest. Anyhow, these twelve men, maugre their vow never to surrender under any circumstances, did surrender to the one; and the soldier had the well-earned satisfaction of sending each of the party up in turn, in the bight of a rope, to where his comrades were waiting for them above ground. They were taken to the town prison, of course, and confined there. Grim tales are told of torture in such places, when it is needful to extract information from the prisoner; and deprival of sleep and hammering the finger-ends are the reported methods. Still, nothing of the kind was inflicted on these men (save that one of them, the lad Tirlamazian, was flogged), though it was of course known that they had a good deal of important information to give. During their stay in Van jail, they had nothing worse than most uncomfortable detention to complain of; though confinement in a foul cell, swarming with vermin, may become a very fair imitation of torture after a few hours, particularly if the prisoner is chained so that he cannot scratch! Orders were sent, we believe, for the forwarding of at least the chief of the Tashnakists, Aram, to Constantinople, under strong guard. Once in the clutches of Abdul Hamid his fate would have been a grim one indeed. But before the decree was executed, a marvellous transformation took place. This was nothing less than the Turkish Revolution of 1908, with its consequent amnesty for all political offences. All proceedings were dropped, and the prisoners emerged to be greeted as national heroes after their confinement. [Illustration: CHURCH OF MAR SHALITHA, QUDSHANIS.