There exist four distinct beds, accompanied with sandstone. In the Buam defile also are found rich beds of gypsum (sulphate of lime) covered with conglomerate; and it may be further observed that calcareous, as also in general sedimentary, rocks are seen more frequently here on the banks of the Chu, the Katch-Kara, and Naryn rivers than in the eastern portion of the Tian Shan system.

The post-station at Kok-Mainak stood quite alone, and on rising the next morning and taking a turn outside, the silent solitude was perfectly oppressive. The postmaster, too, unless I am mistaken, was living alone as a bachelor, though his guest-room was singularly neat and comfortable, made ready perhaps for the reception of his district chief and the English traveller. Colonel Pushchin did not accompany me further, but, after early breakfast, sped me forward 15 miles to the southern end of the Pass, where was, or ought to have been, the station Kutemaldy; but the earthquake of the previous year had shaken down the post-house, and a tent only was pitched for the accommodation of travellers. We were now fairly out of the Pass, into the basin of Lake Issik Kul, along the entire northern side of which, for 115 miles, we were to have the felicity of driving—a gratification that has fallen to the lot of very few English travellers.

The dimensions of the hollow containing this sheet of water are about 110 miles long by 50 broad, the lake measuring from 20 to 30 miles wide and lying at an altitude of 5,300 feet above the sea, and extending over an area of 3,104 square miles, or ten times the extent of the Lake of Geneva. Its depths, where the shores are low, is less than six feet; but where precipitous, more than a thousand; and formerly its level was at least 200 feet higher than now. The water is greenish and clear, but brackish and almost unfit for culinary purposes, though, by reason of being saline, cattle are said to like it. The lake has no islands but many shoals, and from the bottom is thrown up, after storms, a black slag in the form of sand, which the Kara Kirghese collect on the shores, extracting therefrom iron of fair quality. Besides the slag there are traces of warm mineral springs, which bubble from under the mountain strata, and probably account for the high temperature of the water, which does not freeze.

By way of illustrating this last phenomenon, Mr. Gourdet, the town architect of Vierny, told me that in December, 1875, he had occasion to ride from Karakol, a distance of seven miles, through a temperature of 17° (Réaumur), and against a wind that caused much suffering by reason of cold, to the shore of Issik Kul, and there to

examine and make a sketch of a boat. On descending to the water, where he was protected from the wind by a high cliff, the temperature was found so warm and agreeable that overcoat and gloves were laid aside, and the needed drawing leisurely made. In returning, however, towards evening the cold had increased on the steppe to 25°, and he reached the house with difficulty, almost benumbed and needing an energetic rubbing and application of alcohol to restore circulation to his hands. The origin of the lake is still a problem, as also the fact that, in some places at the bottom, buildings have been discovered, whilst the waves sometimes throw up human bones and skulls, as well as household utensils and bricks.

Our road to the next station lay about a mile from the water, which in some places is as much as eight miles from the mountains, and we passed over sometimes meadow land, sometimes sedge, but rarely through forest-growth of any kind. Bushes appeared only at the mouths of mountain torrents, and then consisted for the most part of oblipikh covered with narrow silver-coloured leaves, and dwarf trees of hawthorn, barberry, and various kinds of water willow. We passed a picket of Cossacks, changed horses at Tura-Aigir, and towards evening arrived at Choktal, where the good-natured postmaster gave us a roasted wild duck, and whence it was determined we should post on through the night.

The shores continued flat, or sloped gently towards the water, but on the central meridian of the lake cross spurs of the mountains run down from both north and south to the water. Here the road lay over steep cliffs overhanging the lake, and in the small hours of the morning I perceived that we had come to a stupendous hiil, which caused the horses to jib, nearly backing the tarantass over a break-neck declivity. This caused me, contrary to my custom, to get out and walk; whereupon, the animals again becoming unmanageable, they, or the driver, turned their heads, and, greatly to our alarm, rushed down from nearly the top of the hill, I following and shouting that the whole concern would be dashed to pieces. Much to our surprise, however, the yemstchik, or driver, on reaching the bottom did not stop, but turned and again charged the hill with perfect fury, my servant Joseph and I following to place stones under the tires until, at last, the animals drew up, and I drew breath to give thanks for what I regarded as a merciful deliverance.

From Ui-tal, a picket post-station, we had a pretty drive through meadow lands occupied by the Kara Kirghese, passing on our right the lately erected Russian missionary monastery, and in the afternoon

arrived at our destination, Kara- Kol, seven miles from the lake, and a distance of 251 miles from Pishpek.

On driving into Karakol we were, to a certain extent, breaking new ground. The late Mr. Eugene Schuyler, who travelled Turkistan so thoroughly in 1873, and wrote upon it so well afterwards, drove only to the western end of Issik Kul. Mr. Ashton Dilke about the same date must have driven along its northern shore, because he told me that, when turned back by the officials at Vierny from proceeding towards Tashkend, he "dodged" the opposition by going to Kuldja, and then, passing into the mountains to Issik Kul, descended to Tokmak; but he did not mention having visited Karakol; the only English writer known to me who had pushed on to this out-of-the-way place being Mr. Delmar Morgan.

Karakol may be compared in winter to Siberia, and in summer to the Engadine. From November to the close of February the little town is visited by violent storms, and the snow lies more than four feet deep. Spring brings abundant rains and frequent fogs, whilst in summer, from May to July, the heat goes up sometimes to 40° (Réaumur), notwithstanding which the climate is healthy and agreeable.

The oscillations in atmospheric pressure are more frequent than in the plains, and, according to Lohmann, increase the number of respirations and beatings of the pulse so as to be favourable to organic metamorphosis; in fact, recourse has been made to these variations to explain the therapeutic action of mountain air, but Dr. Seeland, Chief of the Army Medical Department, whom I met in Vierny, says he has also observed frequently that these oscillations, when too great and rapid, provoke other morbid symptoms-as, for instance, in nervous persons aggravated irritability, headache, palpitation of the heart, sleeplessness, &c.

Karakol lies at an elevation of nearly 6,000 feet, amid charming scenery, at the foot of a magnificent mountain range called the Terskei Ala-tau, which extends all along the southern shore of Issik Kul and continues eastward right up to Khan Tengri, the monarch of the region, which may be seen from Karakol towering up to a height of 24,000 feet, a virgin peak awaiting the attentions of some knight of the Alpine Club. Directly east of Karakol is the Tasma range, over which passes the postal pack-road to the Tekes valley. At the time of our visit these mountains presented a splendid panorama of snowclad peaks; but I did not hear that mountain-climbing, pure and simple, was much in fashion.

Calling on the uyezdi-nachalnik, I found that he had been kind enough to place a house at my disposal, with a Cossack in

attendance; but, finding the abode rather out of the way and foreseeing that my stay would be short, I preferred to put up at the post-house, where I could better get provisions, make sundry repairs, and have my tarantass put in order. Here Colonel Vaouline, whom I met by chance in the street, kindly came to my assistance, sent to me the battalion smith, and helped in other ways.

In the evening I went to a little party gathered at the house of the nachalnik, and met among the guests Colonel Korolkoff, with whose brother, the Governor of Ferghana, I had stayed in 1882 in Samarkand. I found, moreover, that the nachalnik had arranged for horses to take me forward; but learned to my disappointment that my only way of proceeding thence to my destination was by going over the Santash Pass in the snow mountains, where there was no shelter or even tent wherein to spend the night, to Djarkend, and thence doubling back 200 miles to Vierny. This was a great disappointment-first, because I was not equipped for camping out, and next, having been under the impression that I could get down to Vierny by the road somewhat to the east of the lake, which reaches the plains at Chilik in the Ili valley, the idea of going so far out of the way as Djarkend was out of the question. Had we been on horseback matters would have been easier, since there are bridle paths; but with a tarantass there was no other alternative but to return to Pishpek, which accordingly I determined to do.

Less than 24 hours sufficed for a night's rest and to replenish our larder, thanks in part to the good people at the post-house, who cooked for us three chickens at the cost of a rouble, at that time worth less than eighteen pence. A policeman also, who had been told off to guard me and mine, though excused from watching by night, made his reappearance at sunrise, and helped us in sundry minor arrangements, so that before the sun was high we were ready to start. About 10 miles from Karakol we crossed the Jergalan river that runs into Issik Kul at Jergalan Bay. Here may be seen encamped in summer the Karakol garrison, whilst scattered about are the tents of the nomad Kara Kirghese.

On my previous visit to Central Asia, a friend in Vierny had been anxious that I should see something of these nomads, but I then succeeded only in visiting the Kirghese of the plains, called Kazaks, of whom I afterwards wrote three or four chapters in my "Russian Central Asia." On the present journey I saw only the Kara Kirghese, concerning whom I would make certain observations, partly from what I saw and partly on the authority of Dr. Seeland.

The Kara Kirghese dwell northward, for the most part in the mountainous districts of Issik Kul and Tokmak, but many are found also in the southern portion of the Tian Shan, on Chinese territory. They spread eastward to the Muzart Pass; westward, among the mountains of Ferghana, to Samarkand; and, besides those dwelling on the independent portions of the Pamir, I met on my way to India a few dwelling as far south as the Kilian Pass.

When or whence the Kara Kirghese settled in their present homes is unknown. In certain places the Kalmuks preceded them, but it is noteworthy that all about the Issik Kul valley have been found vestiges-such as hatchets, lamps, spearheads, and sickles— pointing to an ancient people further advanced in civilisation than cither Kirghese or Kalmuk. Neither of these work in copper or brass, and their agriculture is of yesterday, so that seemingly they had formerly no need of the sickle, whilst the bricks and money discovered all point to another stratum of society, an Altaic origin being usually attributed to the Kirghese because of their language.

I had several opportunities of observing their dress, or, I might add, the want of it, for many were very ragged, and the children ran about naked. Next the skin is worn a long shirt of wool or cotton, and stockings of felt; then wide trousers of cotton or leather, over which is put a long khalat, like a dressing-gown, with long sleeves. They have boots of leather, with goloshes; the shaven head is covered with a tibeteika, or skull-cap, which in turn is covered with a fantastically pointed hat of felt or a busby of sheepskin. When travelling in winter the busby is replaced by a malakhai, or pointed hood lined with sheepskin and furnished with a flap or curtain covering the neck and shoulders. The costume of the women in many respects resembles that of the men, with one marked difference, however, of head-dress, which, in the case of the married women, is an enormous bonnet or series of bandages of white cotton, covering everything up to the sides of the face, the neck, the shoulders, and part even of the back. The women's hair is plaited into small braids, from which dangle at the end coins among the rich, but with the poor various metallic ornaments, some of them being sufficiently grotesque, as, for instance, odd keys and a broken brass tap, which I saw suspended from the tresses of a fair one at the western end of Issik Kul.

In driving along the lake we saw numerous tents, the only habitation known to the Kara Kirghese. The carcase of their tent resembles a cage, the lower portion of which consists of a trelliswork of rods, which can be extended or folded at will; outside, this carcase is covered with felt. The top of the cupola has a hole that serves for