We Should Have Turned Off To The Left Towards St. Hilarion, But, Without
A Guide, We Overshot The Path, And Having Ridden About Three Miles
Through The Gorge, Always Ascending, We Suddenly Burst Upon The
Magnificent View Of The Northern Side.
At this moment a few heavy drops
of rain fell from inky clouds which had been gathering among the
mountains, and I thought it advisable to forego the excursion to St.
Hilarion, and to push on towards Kyrenia, three miles distant, though
apparently almost at our feet.
The dark clouds above us added to the beauty of the scenery. We looked
down upon the blue sea, and the snow-covered mountains of Caramania in
the northern distance, with the beautiful foreground of perpendicular
green cliffs upon our right, up to nearly 3000 feet, and the abrupt
mountain sides upon the left, which formed the entrance to the gorge.
The narrow strip of three miles between the sea margin and the point
upon which we stood was a green forest of caroub-trees, almost to the
water's edge. The town, and its striking feature the Venetian fort,
stood out in clear relief against the background of the sea. To the
right and left, farther than the eye could reach, were trees of caroubs,
varied by almonds, mulberries, and occasional date-palms, interspersed
with highly irrigated fields of emerald green. The beautiful old
monastery of Bellapais, erected by the Templars, although in reality
half ruined, appeared from this distance like some noble ancestral
mansion, surrounded by all that could make a landscape perfect: trees,
water, mountains, precipices; above which towered the castle of
Buffavento upon the craggy sky-line; while to the left, cutting with
keen edges the dark cloud that hovered over it, were the walls and
towers of St. Hilarion; where by this time we should have been eating
luncheon with a charming party. Pit-pat came the heavy drops; and still
drinking in the magnificent view, we descended the stony and steep path
towards Kyrenia. When we arrived near the base, after a descent of about
a mile and three-quarters, a perfectly straight road of a good width led
direct to Kyrenia, through a forest of the shady and ever green
caroub-trees. By this time the shower had cleared away, and only a few
light clouds hovered over the high point of St. Hilarion, and having had
nothing to eat, we began to wish for balloons to make a direct ascent to
the well-provided party on the heights above us, who were enjoying the
hospitality of Colonel Greaves. We comforted ourselves with the idea
that we had at all events been wise in foregoing pleasure when upon the
march, as the camels had been ordered to start from Lefkosia, and it
would be advisable that the camp should be arranged without delay. We
accordingly dismounted about half a mile from Kyrenia, and having tied
the animals beneath a wide-spreading caroub, we selected another tree,
beneath which we sat to await the arrival of the camels and servants; in
the meantime I sent the muleteer into the town to buy us something to
eat. After about an hour he returned, with a bottle of Commandoria wine,
a bunch of raw onions, a small goat's-milk cheese, a loaf of brown
native bread, and a few cigarettes, which the good, thoughtful fellow
had made himself for my own private enjoyment. Many years of my life
have been passed in picnicking, and when really hungry, it is
astonishing how vulgar diet is appreciated; we regretted the loss of our
friends, but we nevertheless enjoyed the simple fare, and having looked
at our watches, we speculated upon the probable arrival of the camels
and luggage, and waited patiently beneath the tree.
There is a limit to all endurance, and when 5 P.M. arrived without a
sign of camels, we came to the conclusion that something had gone wrong.
It was in vain that I had searched the pass with my binocular; only the
white thread between the green shrubs appeared, that denoted the path;
and this was desolate.
At length I observed something moving on the crest of the pass: mules or
horses! then a parasol! somebody was coming; most likely returning to
Kyrenia from the picnic? Presently a mule, saddled but without a rider,
came galloping down the road. This we stopped, and secured; it looked
like a practical result of a good luncheon and champagne cup. Shortly
after this first appearance a dismounted English servant came walking
down the road after his mule, which he was happy to recover from our
hands. He had neither seen nor heard anything of our camels or people,
but his master, the chief commissioner of Kyrenia (Dr. Holbeach, 60th
Rifles), was approaching, together with Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson, all of
whom were returning from St. Hilarion. At length the distant parasol
drew nearer, and by degrees we could distinguish the party as they
emerged from the pass upon the broad straight road.
As there are no highwaymen in Cyprus, I had no hesitation in walking
suddenly out of the green wood upon the road-side and intercepting them
as they arrived in front of our position; I explained that we were
"waifs and strays" upon the wide world of Cyprus without baggage or
servants, or, in fact, what Shakespeare calls "sans everything." Mr.
Holbeach with much kindness and hospitality captured us as vagrants, and
insisted upon escorting us to his house. Mrs. Stevenson was good enough
to supply Lady Baker with a few little necessaries for the night, and
Mr. Holbeach, having thoughtfully made up an impromptu little
dinner-party of all named, we passed a most pleasant evening, although I
fear that our sudden invasion of his bachelor's quarters must have
caused him some inconvenience.
On the following morning, we enjoyed the splendid view from the covered
balcony at the back of Mr. Holbeach's house, which showed the richest
foreground in Cyprus in the dark green of caroub-forest and gardens of
fruit-trees intermingled with plots of barley already in the ear.
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