d all the time
without a single stumble on the part of any one of our mounts. There
were four of us--Stephen, Agassiz, Padre Campion, and myself--each
with a guide dressed in blue material, and all sorts of head gear, and
with the usual fold upon fold of cloth round the waist, shoes of raw
hide with the hair outside, held on by twists of hide from the ankle
to the knee, in proper brigand style.

The scenery soon became simply glorious, and my three companions, who
all knew Switzerland, said it was exactly like that country, except
for the absence of chalets. The hills rose on all sides, some to a
height of 5000 feet, rough as possible, all volcanic of course, some
looking as if they had belched out flames and smoke not so very long
ago. One reminded me of Ben Sleoch as it rises out of Loch Maree, the
same mass of rock atop, but here more rugged. Each mountain top and
side was studded with enormous needle-like pinnacles and rough warty
masses. It is strange how fertile these volcanic earths are, these
high mountains were clothed with trees below, and had thick shrubbery
almost to the top--mostly hollyoak, I fancy. The colouring of the
rocks is very fine, the colours being warm reds, browns, purples, and
yellows in one mingled mass.

By 11.30 we had crossed the highest part of our path, and a wide
valley came in sight a mile or two off, great masses of olive trees,
with a large village away ahead on a hillside, and after a little time
our destination hove in sight, round the shoulder of a mountain on our
right, nestling among trees of deep green colour. These turned out to
be mostly mulberry which has a very luscious and cool looking leaf; no
fruit unfortunately, its season was over. We passed along the
picturesque streets of Panagheia, with their projecting windows and
vine entwined balconies, to a place proudly labelled "Hotel Britannic,
J. Christie, proprietor, a British subject". The Hotel London we had
been warned to pass by, as the catering was not so good, and strange
to say, when we returned to camp and the orders of the day were being
read at supper, it was there announced that this hotel was out of
bounds for the time being, the proprietor being of suspected
nationality.

Stephen was at his best, and was the life of the party and of everyone
we came across, and greatly amused our guides. One of the guides had
his little son with him who was named Georgo by Stephen, who told the
little chap that his own name