Notes of a Journey through Syria ^c. 411 



from south to north^ abruptly terminating in a bluff. For 

 the last two miles the promontory is not over 200 yards wide. 

 The river meets this wall of rock at right angles, and dashing 

 against it, suddenly turns due north and flows through a 

 magnificent fissure till it reaches the end of the bluff, when it 

 turns as sharply again, rounds it, and pursues its westward 

 course. Along this ridge was perched the citadel of Larissa. 

 Strong and almost inaccessible as it is by nature, Seleucus 

 still further strengthened it by cutting a huge fosse, 300 feet 

 deep, exactly opposite the spot where the river strikes the 

 cliff, but the bottom of the fosse is still several hundred feet 

 above the stream. In fact one might imagine that the Syrian 

 king had some idea of making a channel for the river at this 

 point, the huge trench being exactly in a line with that 

 worked out by the water. We were standing on the top of 

 the massive battlements which overhang the fosse, enjoying 

 such a variety of bird-life as one can seldom watch in such a 

 narrow space. The battlement on which we lay was, per- 

 haps, 60 feet above the gorge, and our presence was quite 

 ignored by the busy throng below us. Some dozen pairs of 

 Lesser Kestrel [Tinnunculus cenchris) were disporting them- 

 selves in front of their inaccessible nesting-places, or hovering, 

 apparently motionless, in raid air a hundred feet beneath us. 

 A busy flock of Bee-eaters [Merops apiastei'), which had bur- 

 rowed out their nests in a bank round the corner, poised them- 

 selves, rose andfell, suddenly perched on the cliff-side, and, after 

 a moment's pause, darted out again, practising the evolutions 

 of Kestrel, Swallow, and Flycatcher by turns. Softly and 

 silently a few pairs of Rock-Swallows {Hirundo rupestris) stole 

 backwards and forwards, skimming past the hovering Kestrel 

 with perfect indifference. A pair of Wall-creepers were gliding 

 along the opposite face of the fosse, zigzaging up and down 

 with wings partially open and apparently motionless. Rollers 

 by the dozen were screaming, tumbling, and darting up and 

 down the narrow fissure, chasing with dissonant shrieks a 

 few Jackdaws, who were evidently tabooed by every one else, 

 but who resented their ostracism. On a sudden, with a whiz 

 and a sound of wings almost deafening for a moment, a dark 



