Early on the morning of the 25th of April, I bade adieu to Nikosia, the capital of Cyprus—a fair city even in these days of her ruin and decay. As I look back at her, as she appeared to me, I always find myself comparing the image with that of a stately and beautiful dame over whose faded charms, faint and occasional flashes of former loveliness are now and then visible. The day was glorious as I left the dark city gates and stepped forth upon the bright and boundless plains; cornfields extended to the feet of the long chain of mountains, which glowed with deepest purple in the foreground, and towered black and shadowy in the far distance; whilst straight before me, from behind the dark, cloud-like masses, peeped the snowy head of Mount Olympus. This name “Olymp,” which is conferred in almost every Grecian island upon the noblest snow-capped mountains, has the same signification as our word “Alp.”

I had determined to ascend the Cyprian Olympus, and to this end had made many inquiries concerning it. Had I desired information about some unknown and unexplored region, the few particulars I gained could not have been more vague and trifling. I could meet with no one who had ever made the ascent of Troados, as the mountain is now called, or even learn whether the monastery of Troaditissa was situated on its summit or lay below in one of the neighbouring valleys. The Cypriotes love their ease too well to undertake these kind of excursions, and only ridicule what they consider such unnecessary exertion on the part of the traveller. Our party had not ridden more than a mile and a half before cultivation ceased, and on all sides nothing was visible but a dry and barren waste. On this occasion I travelled over about fifteen leagues of country, and did not see more than two or three small villages in the whole distance. One of these was built upon a stream which certainly must contain water enough to irrigate the neighbouring fields and gardens during the winter and spring, yet all the dwellings were in ruins, and no plough had turned the pastures for certainly ten or twenty years.

With his usual kindness, my good friend the pacha had sent a zaptieh who was to accompany me throughout the island and give an account to his master on his return. This was a great convenience to me, as it is usual to exchange the zaptieh at every successive district. The country was very plentifully stocked with game; quails, partridges, and larks rose in large quantities into the air, disturbed by our approach. In the presence of this, my body guard, the pacha had explicitly stated that I was at liberty to shoot where and as I pleased, so my dragoman, who had had some experience of sport in his leisure hours, and I were able to obtain some good shooting on our journey. Zaptieh Hussein, my man, was a fine fellow in his way, prompt and quick at expedient. Like most other Turkish soldiers, his mind was rude and shallow, but his frame strong, muscular, and enduring. Those who understand the management of these men will find them faithful and contented servants. In either mounting or dismounting, when going after these birds, I had managed to lose my tobacco pouch; this pouch and contents were a little memento of my visit to Cavalla, on the Roumelian coast, where the finest Turkish tobacco grows. In the East, where the slave smokes equally with the noble, from morning till night, to lose one’s tobacco may be regarded as a real misfortune. My dragoman pulled a long face when he heard what had happened, and my horse-boy informed me that he had only a little very bad tobacco to offer me. Hussein did not say a word, but put spurs to his horse and was out of sight in a moment.

We rode on slowly for an hour before my zaptieh overtook us, and when he reached me, he drew my pouch from his breast pocket. When a pacha or a kaimakan has half a dozen such men on his staff he will not fail to be obeyed in his district. A zaptieh will ride ten leagues to secure an offender, seize him in the midst of his own friends, fasten his prisoner to his saddle-girths, and bring him, dead or alive, to his master. These are the men whose obstinate and manly spirit has so prolonged the agonies of their country in its struggles with its enemies. Call it fanaticism if you will, but one can but admire the courage and devotion that will sacrifice life and property, if their rulers or religion are in danger. On such emergencies the scanty earnings of a life are drawn from the chest, where they have been hoarded for years, to assist in procuring what is necessary for the strife. Sabres and guns are girded on, and for weeks these devoted servants of the Prophet will fight without pay and deprived of every comfort, under the very guns of the enemies’ batteries.

We now rode directly for the foot of the mountain over ground covered with short grass, stunted shrub, and dwarf palms. Now and again we passed spots covered with a variety of red, yellow, and blue flowers, besides many tulips and bulbous plants. It was a glorious ride and the air delightful, so clear that the eye was never weary of endeavouring to penetrate farther and farther into the horizon.

About 11 o’clock, having never passed an inhabited dwelling, we reached a village that lies about five miles from Nikosia, called Akazi. I can only give its Grecian name, as, though I found the place on the map the pacha had given me, none of our party could read its Turkish designation. We breakfasted in this village, and after a two hours’ rest proceeded on our way.

It being Easter every one was taking advantage of the fÊte to lounge or lie about in the open air, while some stood in groups round the church where the village priest was celebrating mass. This fÊte lasts four days, but the people generally manage to make a whole week’s holiday of it, and give up themselves to hearing masses and perfect idleness. The population of this village looked strong and healthy, which is the more surprising when one considers the amount of fasting imposed upon them. Not only are there two fast days in every ordinary week, but on all sorts of extraordinary occasions. I am told that the number of these fast days amounts to no less than a hundred and fifty in the course of the year! I must here remark that this is no child’s playing at abstinence—only bread and green stuff are permitted, not even milk or oil may be partaken of. Wonderful indeed is it to our minds to observe on how few meals a Greek family can subsist. Even in the houses of tolerably well-to-do people they never cook more than twice or three times in the week, and fish or flesh are rare delicacies. This fact will partly explain the slight degree in which the island is now cultivated. Fruits in great variety and vegetables of many kinds grow wild and form staple articles of food. It is no uncommon thing to see the Cypriotes gathering their repast as they go along and eating it without farther ceremony.

When we once more started on our way, the sun’s rays beat down upon us with terrible power, and as I panted beneath it, I could not but compare it with that monster of the African desert, the yellow lion, prowling about with ravening jaws “seeking whom it may devour.”

I had heard much of the unbearable heat of the island during the summer season, when the air is heavy and damp, when foliage and grass are withered up, a drop of water scarcely to be obtained, and man and beast are panting for a breath of fresh air. We felt the sun oppressive, but seeing the country as we did in its pride of verdure and covered with flowers, one could scarcely picture the spot under so different an aspect.