Tsakma, and Abdullah, the interpreter, who undertook to show us the way, led us right into a cul-de-sac. We retraced our steps, and the plainest common sense enabled us to discover what would have been a convenient pass if the rain had not made the ascent so arduous. Gaining the summit at last, we descended into the valley, and re-ascended a plateau, where we found refuge beneath a splendid cluster of pine-trees; a piece of bread taken out of our pockets, and some currants picked from a currant-bush close by, constituting our frugal breakfast.
The rain ceased when we reached the summit of the pass. Near the watershed we came upon a roughly-defined path along the edge of a gorge to our left. All of a sudden a strong gust of wind made a large horizontal rent in the veil of mist spread over the landscape, and we were able to distinguish, far to the south, mountains covered with forests, the trees of which already had a powdering of snow, while above were large banks of black clouds. Then the mist slowly cleared off, and as the atmosphere gradually lightened, the eye wandered gladly over a broad valley, which we did not suspect to be so near. Clumps of green trees mark the windings of the river Tsakma, which traverses a steppe extending towards the west, and covering, as if with a greyish carpet, the sides of the valley. It might be supposed to be perfectly smooth, and to come down without a break to the groves of trees at the bottom: but by looking closer, spots of a more decided colour can be distinguished, and the eye gradually detects that they are moving. They prove to be gazelles, which take fright at our approach, and make off at full speed. It is then we discover that the slope, which had seemed to us quite smooth, is not so in reality, for the gazelles first go down and disappear, then come up again, only again to disappear, disclosing to us all the undulations of a very uneven desert, a few green patches in the hollows marking the places where the water which has come down from the mountain has collected.
