But if the _Yailas_ were impregnable, there was yet one fatal defect in them. It is absolutely and utterly impossible for any creature to live there in winter. Autumn was already beginning; and, at these lofty altitudes, the first snows may fall as early as October. The Assyrians were virtually "treed" (to use an expressive Americanism); and their enemies, as fully conscious of the defect in their position as they were, were content to form a leaguer round them, and wait till they should come down to be killed. In this almost hopeless position, Mar Shimun determined on making one final appeal to the Russians. Accompanied by one of his principal chiefs (the _Malik_ Khoshaba of Lizan) and by two other companions, he quitted the _Yaila_ of Shina[161] at the head of the Tal and Tkhuma gorges to make his way across the mountains and down to Urmi Plain. The whole intervening country was thickly beset with enemies; but, travelling mostly by night and with experienced guides, the little party succeeded in accomplishing their daring journey, and reached the Russian outposts near Salmas. But only to meet disappointment. The local Russian commanders professed themselves utterly unable to render the least assistance, and could only offer the Patriarch the abjectly despairing counsel that, now he himself had escaped, he had better remain in safety, and not sacrifice his life uselessly by a vain attempt to return. Mar Shimun indignantly refused to rest even one night in safety, and turned back at once to the mountains to share his people's doom. The outlook was now truly terrible, but the Assyrians were determined not to perish without one more struggle. They would attempt to break the leaguer and force their way down to Urmi Plain. Even for an uncumbered army this could hardly be thought a promising enterprise; and the tribesmen were but ill-armed and poorly disciplined. Moreover, they must endeavour to carry off with them their non-combatants--women and children. They would number in all about 25,000 persons, and flocks and herds besides. Their route, as all know who have travelled there, lay through one of the most rugged and most difficult of the mountain districts in Asia; and the paths are seldom wide enough for two men to walk on them abreast. It was a desperate expedient, but to stay was certain death. Surrender meant massacre, for there was no mercy either in Turk or Kurd; and if the worst came to the worst, it was better to die fighting. Moreover, they had leaders who knew how to make the most even of the slenderest chances; and the plan which they resolved to attempt was marked by all the hardihood and ingenuity of desperation.