at the village of Sab. We here
crossed the great river Sab by means of rafts, the mode of
constructing which is certainly very ancient. They consist of
leathern bottles, filled with air, fastened together with poles, and
covered with planks, reeds, and rushes. Our raft had twenty-eight
wind-bags, was seven feet broad, nearly as long, and carried two
horse-loads and six men. As our caravan numbered thirty-two loaded
animals, the crossing of the river occupied half a day. Four or
five of the animals were tied together and drawn over by a man
seated across an air-bag. The weaker animals, such as the donkeys,
had a bag half filled with air tied on their backs.

The night of the 30th of June, the last of our journey, was one of
the most wearisome: we travelled eleven hours. About half-way, we
came to the river Hasar, called Gaumil by the Greeks, and made
remarkable by the passage of Alexander the Great. It was broad, but
not deep, and we therefore rode through. The chain of mountains
still continued at the side at some considerable distance, and here
and there rose low, sterile hills, or head-lands. The total absence
of trees in this part of Mesopotamia is striking: during the last
five days I did not see a single one. It is, therefore, easy to
imagine that there are many people here who have never seen such a
thing. There were spaces of twenty miles in extent, upon which not
a single branch was to be seen. However, it is fortunate that there
is no scarcity of water; every day we came once or twice to rivers
of various sizes.

The town of Mosul did not become visible until we were within about
five miles. It is situated upon a slight elevation in a very
extensive valley, on the west bank of the Tigris, which is already
much narrower here than near Baghdad. We arrived about 7 o'clock in
the morning.

I was fresh and active, although during these fifteen days I had
only twice had a hot meal--the ink-coloured lamb soup at Kerku and
Ervil; although I had been obliged to remain day and night in the
same clothes, and had not even an opportunity of once changing my
linen, not to say anything of the terrific heat, the continual
riding, and other fatigues.

I first dismounted at the caravansary, and then procured a guide to
the English Vice-consul, Mr. Rassam, who had already prepared a room
for me, as he had been previously informed of my coming by a letter
from Major Rawlinson, at Baghdad.

I first visited