184 THE CRIMEA AND ITS VEGETATION. 
seen of large size in the open air: it is in these nooks and corners 
by the sea-side, and under the stupendous crags, that the tra- 
veller finds the luxurious villas of the Russian nobles. The soil 
here is particularly suited to the cultivation of the Vine, and from 
its warm, sunny exposures, the wine is equal in strength and 
quality to that of the South of France. The Fig-tree, the Pome- 
granate with its showy scarlet blossoms, and the lively little Caper- 
bush, are everywhere to be seen. Olive groves also are here and 
there to be met with; but they are not widely cultivated, as the 
ground is more profitably laid out in vineyards. 
“ As we go northward, the steppe assumes its grand character- 
istic, presenting a huge circle of flatness, where nothing is seen 
but the over-arching sky and the conical-shaped tumuli, which 
rise every here and there, like monster mole-hills, on the surface 
of the plain. These steppes are very beautiful in spring, when 
the wide-spread green of the young grass becomes converted into 
a sea of wild-flowers, yielding to the wind, which sways back- 
wards and forwards their masses of varied colour, like waves on 
the shore. Fancy whole miles of purple Larkspur gleaming in 
the sunshine, intersected with patches of bright scarlet Poppy ; 
and the pink-coloured wild Peach shrub, with gaudy Tulips and 
Crocuses, contributing also their fine contrasting hues. But, 
alas! these beauties soon vanish at the approach of summer, and 
are succeeded by a tall, feathery grass, such as I have often seen 
grown in gardens in England. Fortunately this grass is con- 
fined to certain districts, for sheep cannot pasture where it grows, 
in consequence of the subtle art which its seed possesses of work- 
ing its way into their ski. In summer the Crimea becomes 
literally baked with heat, and by the end of June the grass on 
the steppe is yellow and parched. It is at this season that the 
mirage is most frequent, and it really helps to beguile the way 
by presenting a temporary excitement to the traveller. Driving 
along the steppe, suddenly something seems to arise like a city, 
glittermg through a mist in the distance; gradually an appear- 
ance of towers and trees comes out more clearly ; as you advance, ~ 
new spires arise, and trees, bridges, and rivers appear—a pic- 
turesque combination. By-and-by they sink into confusion ; and 
when you arrive at where stood the city of enchantment, all has 
vanished away, and you find but the waving of the parched grass 
as before. From the tear and wear of the clayey soil during the 
