ki, where we shall witness severe battles, is situated at the head
of the gulf by the same name, an inlet of the AEgean Sea. It is a
well-fortified city, built on the water's edge, but surrounding it is
high land commanding the surrounding country. Added to that, the swamp
region is another protection from an enemy coming from inland. Its
seaward forts, however, are, or were, obsolete and would probably
crumble before the fire of modern naval guns.

Stretching down the eastern shore of the Gulf is a peninsula on which is
the famous Mt. Athos, that very peculiar community of celibate monks.
Here, in the Holy Mountain, as the Slavs call it, there are monasteries
representing all the various denominations of the Greek Orthodox Church:
Greek, Bulgarian, Serbian, and Russian, each swarming with hundreds of
monks, who pass their time in idleness. Not only are women forbidden to
enter this domain, but even female dogs or cats are kept out.

Across this upper end of the AEgean, from Mt. Athos, is the Bulgarian
port, Dedeagatch, to which runs a branch of the main railway from Sofia
to Constantinople. The country here is low and swampy, the port itself
being little more than a boat landing.

Just below this point, across the Gulf of Saros, is the peninsula of
Gallipoli, where a critical phase of the war was fought. It is somewhat
like the blade of a scimitar, covering the entrance to the Sea of
Marmora. Between this strip of land and the coast of Asia Minor is a
narrow strait, the outer mouth of which is called the Dardanelles, the
inner gateway being the famous Hellespont. Here it was that Xerxes
crossed over on a bridge of boats at the head of his Persian army to
invade Greece, only to meet disaster at Thermopylae, and here Alexander
of Macedonia crossed over to begin his march of conquest which was to
extend his power as far as India. And about this narrow strait is
centered the ancient Greek myth about Hero and Leander, which inspired
Byron to swim across from Asia to Europe.

How well the Turks have fortified this approach to their capital is well
enough indicated in the story of the operations of the allied fleets in
their attempt to force the passage.

From the Hellespont to Constantinople is a sail of forty miles, along a
coast steep and rugged, destitute of any harbor or even a beach where a
boat might land. Nor is there a more beautiful sight than that which is
presented on approaching the Turkish capital from this