33 ^ 
SECOND VISIT TO ETCHMIATZIN. 
was a large patch of snow, close to the foot of a fine cascade that fell 
from a rock about sixty feet in height. On this snow, we spread car¬ 
pets and erected a tent. We scrambled up with the old Serdar close 
to the foot of the cascade, where it really was extremely cold. “ This 
“ is just the place,” said he, “ for drinking wine,” and invited us to 
drink some, swearing at the same time, that if he had not promised the 
Shah Zadeh* to leave it off, he would join us with all his heart. We then 
wrapt ourselves up in all the warm clothes which we could get, and seat¬ 
ed ourselves upon the carpets, while his servants prepared the kabob. 
The Serdar in the mean time got impatient, “ Come,” said he, “ I think 
“ we may as well be doing something; bring the lamb hither, we will 
“ cut it up and roast it ourselves.” When all was ready, he ordered his 
singing man, an old fellow about sixty, to sit near us; and whilst we eat, 
this pei sonage sang. Part of the entertainment consisted of an immense 
cauldron of aub-dough, a species of butter-milk, of which the Persians 
drink most plentifully at this season of the year. It is, indeed, a most 
cooling and refreshing drink. This entertainment was completely to 
the taste of the Persians, who are enchanted with a roving, unsettled 
state of existence. Their happy days are past in a camp, with their 
horses grazing about them, and their happiest when they are climbing 
their rocky mountains in search of game. 
Besides the visit to Aligez, there was only one incident during my 
stay at Aberan, which deserves to be recorded : it was a visit to the 
Armenian patriarch at Etchmiatzin. My principal object in this excur¬ 
sion was to inspect the library of the monastery, where I heard that 
treasures of literature lay buried, which no stranger had yet explored. 
Accompanied by the surgeon of the Embassy, I descended into the hot 
plain, and came unawares upon the good old Patriarch, who appeared 
much pleased at our visit, and insisted upon giving us his own room to 
live in. Here we were almost devoured by the musquitoes, who 
tired of their fat but constant food, the patriarch and his monks, fed 
most ravenously upon us, just fresh from the pastures of the cold moun- 
* The son of the King. 
