We next came upon two magnificent mosques, built of white limestone, with a multitude of leaden domes and lofty minarets, adorned with galleries rich in arabesque ornaments.  Attached to one of them is the tomb, of Hazret Mevlana, the founder of the sect of Mevlevi Dervishes, which is reputed one of the most sacred places in the East.  The tomb is surmounted by a dome, upon which stands a tall cylindrical tower, reeded, with channels between each projection, and terminating in a long, tapering cone.  This tower is made of glazed tiles, of the most brilliant sea-blue color, and sparkles in the sun like a vast pillar of icy spar in some Polar grotto.  It is a most striking and fantastic object, surrounded by a cluster of minarets and several cypress-trees, amid which it seems placed as the central ornament and crown of the group.

The aspect of the city was so filthy and uninviting that we preferred pitching our tent; but it was impossible to find a place without going back upon the plain; so we turned into the bazaar, and asked the way to a khan.  There was a tolerable crowd in the street, although many of the shops were shut.  The first khan we visited was too filthy to enter; but the second, though most unpromising in appearance, turned out to be better than it looked.  The oda-bashi (master of the rooms) thoroughly swept and sprinkled the narrow little chamber he gave us, laid clean mats upon the floor, and, when our carpets and beds were placed within, its walls of mud looked somewhat comfortable.  Its single window, with an iron grating in lieu of glass, looked upon an oblong court, on the second story, surrounded by the rooms of Armenian merchants.  The main court (the gate of which is always closed at sunset) is two stories in height, with a rough wooden balcony running around it, and a well of muddy water in the centre.

The oda-bashi lent us a Turkish table and supplied us with dinner from his own kitchen; kibabs, stewed beans, and cucumber salad.  Mr. H. and I, forgetting the Ramazan, went out to hunt for an iced sherbet; but all the coffee-shops were closed until sunset.  The people stared at our Egyptian costumes, and a fellow in official dress demanded my teskere.  Soon after we returned, Francois appeared with a splendid lump of ice in a basin and some lemons.  The ice, so the khangee said, is taken from a lake among the mountains, which in winter freezes to the thickness of a foot.  Behind the lake is a natural cavern, which the people fill with ice, and then close up.  At this season they take it out, day by day, and bring it down to the city.  It is very pure and thick, and justifies the Turkish proverb in regard to Konia, which is celebrated for three excellent things:  “dooz, booz, kuez”—­salt, ice, and girls.