From Nicæa (Isnik) we came to Jenysar (Yeni Shehr), next to Ackbyuck, and thence to Bazargyck (Bazarjik), from which place we came to Bosovick, or Cassumbasa, which lies in the gorge of the pass over Mount Olympus. From Nicæa our road lay almost entirely along the slopes of Mount Olympus, until we reached Bosovick. Here we lodged in a Turkish hostel. Opposite stood a rock somewhat higher than the building, in which was cut a square cistern of considerable size, and from the bottom of it a pipe ran down to the highway road. The ancient inhabitants used in winter to fill the cistern with snow; as it melted, the iced water, trickling down to the road through the pipe, refreshed the thirsty wayfarer. The Turks consider public works of this kind the noblest sort of almsgiving, inasmuch as they help not only everyone, but everyone equally. Not far from this spot Otmanlik was pointed out to us on our right—the retreat, as I imagine, of the famous Othman, founder of the family which bears his name. From this pass we descended into wide plains, where we spent our first night under tents, on account of the heat. The place was called Chiausada. Here we saw a subterranean house, which was lighted only by an opening in the roof. We saw also the famous goats[129] from whose fleece—or hair, if you like the word better—is woven the watered stuff known as mohair. The hair of these goats is extremely fine and marvellously flossy, hanging down to the very ground; the goatherds do not shear it, but comb it off, and it is almost as beautiful as silk. The goats are frequently washed in running water. Their food is the scanty dry grass peculiar to these plains, and it is to this that the fineness of their coats is chiefly owing; for it is an ascertained fact, that when the goats are removed elsewhere, their wool does not retain its silky character, but changes with the pasturage; indeed, the whole animal degenerates to such an extent that one would scarcely recognise the breed. These fleeces, after being spun into thread by the women of the country, are taken to Angora,[130] a city of Galatia, and there woven and dyed; further on I will give you a description of the process. In this locality is also to be found that curious breed of sheep with great fat tails; indeed, their flocks consist of little else. The tails weigh from three or four to as much as eight or ten pounds;[131] so big are the tails of some of the older sheep, that it is necessary to furnish them with a carriage for their support, which consists of a little board running on a pair of small wheels, so that the sheep may drag that which it cannot carry. This, perhaps, you will hardly believe, and yet I am telling you the truth. Now, while I fully admit that there is a certain advantage in these tails from the supply of fat which they yield, I must say I found the rest of the meat tough and wanting in flavour, as compared with ordinary mutton. The