VALLEYS AND GREAT LEVELS OF TUE EARTII. 219 



referred to by Pliny, now the pass or valley of the river Terek, one of the ancient keys 

 of the East. The river has its rise towards the centre, and flows northward, a foaming 

 torrent, by the side of which the emperor Alexander caused the present road out of 

 Europe into Georgia to be constructed in the year 1804. The road winds by the edge of 

 precipices rising up from the roaring waters of the Terek, while above, large projections 

 of rock, many thousand tons in weight, hang from the beetling steep of the mountains, 

 threatening destruction on all below not always a vain apprehension. After the winter 

 season, many of these huge masses have been launched downwards by the effect of a 

 sudden thaw, blocking up the narrow pathway, or flooding it by the obstruction offered 

 to the course of the river. The mountain sides of this pass from one of which the lofty 

 Ivasibeck rises four thousand feet above the limit of perpetual snow are so high, close, 

 and overhanging, that even at mid-day the whole is covered with a shadow bordering on 

 twilight. 



At Darial, about a day's journey up the European side of the pass, the Russians 

 have a military post. The scene is here one of great magnificence. The walls of rock 

 reach the height of nearly four thousand feet above the bed of the river. The passes of 

 the Taurus, which are the channels of communication between the interior plains of Asia 

 Minor and the southern coast, have milder features. The most celebrated in antiquity 

 the Pyla3 Ciliciae through which the younger Cyru>3 and Alexander poured their 

 armies, consists of a narrow defile, with cliffs covered a considerable way up with 

 evergreens and pine-trees, hanging in some places like a vast canopy over the road, 

 while bare and desolate peaks tower above the clouds. The passes of the Andes and 

 Himalaya exhibit Nature in her wildest and most terrific aspects, and are perilous 

 sites. The latter especially, owing to their elevation in the regions of eternal ice and 

 snow, are seldom traversed without the loss of human life, and yet are annually travelled 

 by crowds of people journeying to and from the Indian and Tartarian sides, on purposes 

 of traffic, rarely proceeding a mile, at the higher points, without meeting with the 

 remains of some ill-fated wayfarer. Captain A. Gerard accomplished the ascent of the 

 Mannering Pass, 3000 feet higher than Mont Blanc, and thus describes the scene and its 

 dangers : " The river Darboong was lost among the fields of snow and ice by which it 

 was generated ; the whole space on every side was floored by ice, half hid under stones 

 and rubbish. In some places the snow is of an incredible thickness, and lies in heaps. 

 Having accumulated for years together, it separates by its gravity, and spreads wide 

 desolation in its route. Nowhere, in all my travels, have I observed such enormous 

 bodies of snow and ice, or altogether such a scene. So rapid and incessant is the progress 

 of destruction here, that piles of stone are erected to guide the traveller, since the path 

 way is often obliterated in a few days by fresh showers of splinters. Our elevation was 

 now upwards of 16,000 feet, although we had but ascended in company with the river. 

 Here only began our toils : we scaled the slope of the mountain very slowly ; respiration 

 was laborious, and we felt exhausted at every step. The crest of the pass was not 

 visible, and we saw no limit to our exertions. The road inclined to an angle of 30. 

 Vast benches of limestone, like marble, were passed under ; the projections frowned over 

 us in new and horrid shapes ! Our situation was different from any thing we had yet 

 experienced : it cannot be described. Long before we got up, our respiration became 

 hurried and oppressive, and compelled us to sit down every few yards ; and then only 

 could we inhale a sufficient supply of air. The least motion was accompanied by debility 

 and mental dejection : and thus we laboured on for two miles. The last half-mile was 

 over the perpetual snow, sinking with the foot from three to twelve inches, the fresh 

 covering of the former night. The direct road leads to the centre of the gap, where 

 the snow is very deep and treacherous ; and we made a circuit to the right, to avoid the 



