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On the 10th they went to Brusa, in Asia Minor, six hours by steam-vessel across the Sea of Marmora to Moudania, and six on horseback from Moudania to Brusa. The land journey was oppressive. A narrow path winds through a very rugged country; and there is only one halting-place, a guard hut, where they took a cup of coffee, the only refreshment the inmates had to offer.
We engaged fresh horses for Moudania, on the Sea of Marmora, and dispatched Francois in advance, to procure a caique for Constantinople, while we waited to have our passports signed. But after waiting an hour, as there was no appearance of the precious documents, we started the baggage also, under the charge of a surroudjee, and remained alone.
It was a lovely country of orchards and gardens, with fountains spouting by the wayside, and country houses perched on the steeps. In another hour, we reached the sea-shore. It was now nearly dark, but we could see the tower of Moudania some distance to the west. Still in a continual trot, we rode on; and as we drew near, Mr. H. fired his gun to announce our approach.
Had Saturday been cloudy, and the new moon invisible, I am not sure but the fast would have been still further prolonged. A good look-out was kept, however, and about four o'clock on Saturday afternoon some sharp eyes saw the young crescent above the sun. There is a hill near Gemlik, on the Gulf of Moudania, about fifty miles from here, whence the Turks believe the new moon can be first seen.
From the top of the hill we had a grand view, looking back over the plain, with the long line of Brousa's minarets glittering through the interminable groves at the foot of the mountain Olympus now showed a superb outline; the clouds hung about his shoulders, but his snowy head was bare. Before us lay a broad, rich valley, extending in front to the mountains of Moudania.
The City of Brousa Return to Civilization Storm The Kalputcha Hammam A Hot Bath A Foretaste of Paradise The Streets and Bazaars of Brousa The Mosque The Tombs of the Ottoman Sultans Disappearance of the Katurgees We start for Moudania The Sea of Marmora Moudania Passport Difficulties A Greek Caique Breakfast with the Fishermen A Torrid Voyage The Princes' Islands Prinkipo Distant View of Constantinople We enter the Golden Horn.
The country was well cultivated, with large farming establishments here and there. The sun was setting as we reached the summit ridge, where stood a little guard-house. As we rode over the crest, Olympus disappeared, and the Sea of Marmora lay before us, spreading out from the Gulf of Moudania, which was deep and blue among the hills, to an open line against the sunset.
Our horses were stiff, clumsy pack-beasts; but, by dint of whips and the sharp shovel-stirrups, we forced them into a trot and made them keep it. The road was well travelled, and by asking everybody we met: "Bou yol Moudania yedermi?" The plain in many places is marshy, and traversed by several streams.
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