they have been known to have no clothing to wear but the linen suits provided for the hot weather.  Their pay, insignificant though it be, is as uncertain as gambling; but they never raise a murmur.  Being by nature and religion fatalists, they cheerfully accept these undeserved hardships as the will of Allah.  To-day is the hottest I have experienced in Asia Minor, and soon after leaving the outpost I once more encounter the everlasting mountains, following now the Trebizond and Erzingan caravan trail.  Once again I get benighted in the mountains, and push ahead for some time after dark.  I am beginning to think of camping out supperless again when I hear the creaking of a buffalo araba some distance ahead.  Soon I overtake it, and, following it for half a mile off the trail, I find myself before an enclosure of several acres, surrounded by a high stone wall with quite imposing gateways.  It is the walled village of Housseubegkhan, one of those places built especially for the accommodation of the Trebizond caravans in the winter.  I am conducted into a large apartment, which appears to be set apart for the hospitable accommodation of travellers.  The apartment is found already occupied by three travellers, who, from their outward appearance, might well be taken for cutthroats of the worst description; and the villagers swarming in, I am soon surrounded by the usual ragged, flea-bitten congregation.  There are various arms and warlike accoutrements hanging on the wall, enough of one kind or other to arm a small company.  They all belong to the three travellers, however; my modest little revolver seems really nothing compared with the warlike display of swords, daggers, pistols and guns hanging around; the place looks like a small armory.  The first question is-as is usual of late — “Russ or Ingilis.”  Some of the younger and less experienced men essay to doubt my word, and, on their own supposition that I am a Russian, begin to take unwarrantable liberties with my person; one of them steals up behind and commences playing a tattoo on my helmet with two sticks of wood, by way of bravado, and showing his contempt for a subject of the Czar.  Turning round, I take one of the sticks away and chastise him with it until he howls for Allah to protect him, and then, without attempting any sort of explanation to the others, resume my seat; one of the travellers then solemnly places his forefingers together and announces himself as kardash (my brother), at the same time pointing significantly to his choice assortment of ancient weapons.  I shake hands, with him and remind him that I am somewhat hungry; whereupon he orders a villager to forthwith contribute six eggs, another butter to fry them in, and a third bread; a tezek fire is already burning, and with his own hands he fries the eggs, and makes my ragged audience stand at a respectful distance while I eat; if I were to ask him, he would probably clear the room of them instanter.  About ten o’clock my impromptu