AN ISLAND IN THE SEA OF HISTORY 



1117 



Through these eroded galleries run 

 mountain streams, which are generally 

 rapid but narrow and which are spanned 

 where the bridle paths cross them by 

 rude log-and-plank bridges of the type 

 shown on pages 1102 and 1103. Bridges 

 of this kind are to be found in many parts 

 of western Europe, and are common in 

 Scandinavia ; but it is so difficult to throw 

 them across the boiling torrents of Da- 

 ghestan that in all the mountain com- 

 munities the punishment for willful de- 

 struction of a bridge is death. 



The ravines through which these 

 bridge-spanned torrents flow make travel 

 across the country extremely difficult. 

 Getting out of one and into another in- 

 volves four or five hours of climbing or 

 sliding on steep zigzags, and a ride of 

 10 miles across two or three of them is 

 a hard day's journey. The descent into 

 the valley of Gimry (see page 1114), for 

 example, is made by a zigzag bridle path 

 13 miles in length, although the distance 

 from the top of the cliff to the bottom 

 in an air hne is probably less than a mile. 



The great ravine of Khonkadatel is 

 3,000 or 4,000 feet deep, and the trail 

 that leads into it crosses the faces of 

 tremendous precipices on narrow cornices 

 or shelves, descends rude stairways of 

 hewn rock a hundred feet in length, and 

 runs down steep zigzags to sharp corners 

 where a horse must turn within his own 

 length or slide off into a thousand feet of 

 empty air (see page 11 12). 



the: villages pe:rche:d like: e:agle:s' 



NESTS AMONG TtlL CRAGS 



As we gradually approached the main 

 range, the aotds, or mountain villages, 

 became more and more daring and pic- 

 turesque in their locations. Settlements 

 in the valley bottoms grew less and less 

 frequent and finally disappeared alto- 

 gether, while high overhead every preci- 

 pice, every terrace, or projecting but- 

 tress of rock was crowned with the flat- 

 roofed, closely massed houses of an aoul. 



As the heterogeneous clans of the 

 mountain population have been at war 

 for centuries, they have learned to build 

 their villages in places that can be easily 

 defended, and from the bottoms of the 

 valleys they look like eagles' nests, and 



seem at first glance to be absolutely in- 

 accessible. 



The aoul of Ochau, for example, in 

 southwestern Daghestan, was situated on 

 a terrace, or shelf of rock, not less than 

 2,000 feet above the valley of the Avarski 

 Koisu, and was reached by a narrow trail 

 which climbed the precipitous side of the 

 great ravine in more than 20 zigzags. 

 We were directly under the village be- 

 fore sunset; but long ere we reached it, 

 it had begun to grow dark, the alpine 

 gorge had filled with clouds, and we 

 found ourselves climbing heavenward, on 

 a never-ending ladder of zigzags, in a 

 great ocean of chilling vapor. 



To reach that settlement from the bot- 

 tom of the valley cost us more than two 

 hours of hard climbing ; but we struggled 

 up into the clear evening twilight at last 

 and looked down from our rocky Ararat 

 upon the great white sea of clouds out 

 of which we had come and into which 

 we should have to descend on the follow- 

 ing morning. 



PUEBLO-LIKE ARCHITECTURE iPOUND IN 

 DAGHESTAN 



Many of the aouls of central and south- 

 ern Daghestan bear a striking resem- 

 blance to the pueblos and cliff-dwellings 

 of New Mexico. The stone-walled houses 

 are built together in a compact mass 

 on the steep slope of a high terrace, and 

 the flat roofs rise in tiers or steps, one 

 above another, just as they do in the 

 settlements of our pueblo Indians. The 

 roof of one house forms a small square 

 front yard for the occupants of the house 

 next above it, and ladders serve as means 

 of intercommunication between the roofs 

 of the ascending tiers (see page 11 18). 



In some aouls the streets, or passages, 

 from house to house are dark under- 

 ground corridors, out of which the in- 

 habitants climb into their dwellings on 

 perpendicular ladders or notched logs. 

 As the country is nearly treeless and 

 affords comparatively little wood, the 

 walls of the one-story buildings are al- 

 most invariably of roughly broken stone 

 and the roofs and floors are usually of 

 clay mixed with chopped straw and 

 beaten hard. 



Near the center of every large village 



