As we proceeded on our way, along the eastern margin of the broad southeastern valley, our progress was overlooked by the women and children of the villages, who waved as we passed, our “forage” exchanges of yesterday, with an evident civilized interpretation of gratitude expressed in favor of their neighbors. But our supply of provisions being accommodated to our means of transportation, we could not gratify the desire that prompted the acceptance of their overtures. Evidently interpreting the cause, we found upon rounding a hill in advance a herd of cows panniered with bunches of bananas, plantains, and other edibles waiting for our acceptance, the donors watching us from the leafy screens of the hill plantations. The contraband gift—for their male protectors were evidently absent—was too acceptable, for the prospective relief of want, to be refused, and the recompense was suited to the full gratification of the womanly promptings suggesting bestowal. In descending from a hill in advance, the valley proper of old Heraclea opened to our view. The plain, under the golden light of the morning sun, exceeded in beauty of variegation as in extent the famed vega of Granada, when clothed in the productive vestments of Moorish culture. At nine o’clock we passed the field fortalice commanding a view of the valley, and through the river gate those below. It had evidently been designed for a signal station and barracks for those employed to guard the ripening crops; the necessity for its erection bespeaking the inaugurated reign of oppression. The rock used in its construction, as well as of the bridges, dykes, and bank supports of the canals, was basaltic. Unlike granite, marble, and other stones used for building, it had withstood the disintegration of friction and chemical action through the lapse of ages with scarcely perceptible change. The style of architecture bore a strong resemblance to that inaugurated by Cestius, and introduced some sixty years before the Christian era. Our way from the tower to the hill city of old Heraclea, was a paved roadway overshadowed with relict growths of trees, whose ancestry had probably “ennobled” it with shade as an avenue of recreation for the citizens. Reaching the headland of the city esplanade, its level was gained by a zigzag ascent of the same breadth with its connecting avenue, its gradations being easy and of curious construction. Gaining the esplanade we were surprised to find its dimensions so extensive, as from below we scarcely conceived its plain would exceed an acre in area, whereas in reality it afforded a promenade that appeared to approach in length and breadth a half of a mile. As in the avenue below, the remains of parapet seats, and protected spaces for trees, were everywhere apparent. Entering from the esplanade, which extended in narrowed proportion to the gateway, through the single broad street of the first walled inclosure built for its protection, we passed to the fora, around which