been with me eight years, since he was a a boy of nine years old in Africa), a Greek cook named Christo, who had served in a similar capacity upon numerous steamers, and a young man named Georgi, of about twenty-one, who was to be made into a servant. This young fellow had appeared one day suddenly, and solicited employment, while we were staying at Craddock's Hotel; he was short, thickset, and possessed a head of hair that would have raised the envy of Absalom: in dense tangle it would have defied a mane-comb. Georgi had a pleasant expression of countenance which did not harmonise with his exterior, as his clothes were in a ragged and filthy condition, his shoes were in tatters, and trodden down at the heel to a degree that resembled boats in the act of capsizing; these exposed the remnants of socks, through the gaps of which the skin of his feet was exhibited in anything but flesh-colour. It is dangerous to pick up a "waif and stray," as such objects of philanthropy frequently disappear at the same time as the forks and spoons. In reply to my questions, I discovered that Georgi was in fact the "prodigal son;" he had not been leading the fast life of that historical character, but he had left his home in Mersine (on the coast of Asia Minor) owing to an unfortunate disagreement with his father. In such domestic estrangements, rightly or wrongly, the fathers generally have the best of the situation, and Georgi, having left a comfortable home (his father being what is called "well to do"), had taken ship, and, like many others, had steered for Cyprus, where he arrived unknown, and quickly experienced the desolation of an utter stranger in a foreign town. Georgi became hungry; whether he had sold his good clothes to provide for the coats of his stomach I cannot say, but the rags in which he first appeared to me were utterly unsaleable, and few people would have ventured upon an engagement with so disreputable a person. However, I liked his face; he could speak Turkish and Arabic fluently: Greek was his mother-tongue, and he had a smattering of French. I sent for the tailor, and had him measured for a suit of clothes to match those of Amarn—a tunic, waistcoat, knickerbockers, and gaiters of navy-blue serge. In a few days Georgi was transformed into a respectable-looking servant, with his hair cut.

We left Larnaca on the 29th of January. A native two-wheeled cart conveyed the tents and superabundant baggage. The oxen made no difficulty, and the gipsy-van rolled easily along. An enterprising photographer, having posted himself in a certain position near the highway, suddenly stopped our party, and subsequently produced a facsimile, although my dogs, who were in movement, came out with phantom-like shadows. These useful companions were three spaniels —"Merry," "Wise," and "Shot;" the latter had a broken foreleg through an accident in the previous year, but he was an excellent retriever, and could work slowly. The others were younger dogs, whose characters were well represented by their names; the first was an untiring, determined animal, and Wise was a steady hunter that would face the worst thorns, and was a good retriever.

This party was now in movement, and I intended to make a preliminary detour from the Nicosia route to visit the springs of Arpera, about eight miles distant, which supply the town of Larnaca.

In every country where I have travelled I have observed a human weakness among the population on the question of "game;" there is a universal tendency to exaggeration; but the locality of superabundance is always distant from the narrator. As you proceed the game recedes; and you are informed that "at about two days' march you will find even more than you require." Upon arrival at the wished-for spot you are told that "formerly there was a large quantity, but that times and seasons have changed; that about three marches in your front will bring you to a hunter's paradise," &c. As Cyprus was an island of only 140 miles in length, there would be a limit to these boundless descriptions; but I had already heard enough to assure me that the usual want of veracity upon this subject was present in the accounts I had received. The newspaper correspondents had just contributed ridiculous reports to their several employers. Because the market of Larnaca was well supplied with woodcocks, red-legged partridges, and hares, at low prices, these overworked gentlemen of the pen rushed to a conclusion that the island teemed with game: forgetful of the fact that every Cypriote has a gun, and that numbers were shooting for the consumption of the few. Larnaca was the common centre towards which all gravitated. As the rate of wages was only one shilling a day, it may be imagined that sport afforded an equally remunerative employment, and game was forwarded from all distances to be hawked about the public thoroughfares. The fact is, that game is very scarce throughout Cyprus, and the books that have been written upon this country are certainly not the productions of sportsmen.

I had read in no mean authority that "the surface of the ground was covered with heather"—positively there is no such plant in Cyprus as heath or heather. As we passed the outskirts of Larnaca, we were introduced to the misery of the plain of Messaria; the so-called heather is a low thorny bush about twelve inches high, which at a distance has some resemblance to the plant in question. Brown is the prevailing colour in this portion of the island, and the aspect was not cheerful as we slowly marched along the native track or highway towards Arpera, carefully avoiding the new government macadamised road.

It is a melancholy neighbourhood. A few graves that had been robbed were open, forming pitfalls for the unwary; other yawning holes had discovered ancient tombs by the soakage of a recent heavy shower, which had washed in the roof and exposed the cavity. We passed a small mosque where there is the tomb of a saint many feet below the level of the surface, and we shortly came in view of the salt lake about a mile and three-quarters from the town of Larnaca. We halted about two miles from the town upon the high ground to admire the aqueduct which crosses the valley from the village of Cheflik Pacha. This is a very important work. The masonry is about thirty-six feet above the lowest portion of the valley, which it spans in thirty-two arches, covering a distance of about four hundred and twenty yards from height to height. The water flows in an open canal of cement along the surface, but upon the ground level it is protected by a covering of stone and lime, until it reaches the town of Larnaca. A stream of fresh water flows through the valley beneath the arches of the aqueduct, at a right angle, and is artificially separated from the salt lake below by means of a dyke of earth which conducts it direct to the sea. This was rendered necessary by the floods of the rainy seasons, which carried so large a volume of fresh water into the lake as to resist the power of evaporation during the summer months. The salt lakes of Larnaca are several miles in extent, and are computed by the late British consul, Mr. Watkins, to possess a productive power of 20,000,000 okes (2 3/4 lbs.) per annum. M. Gaudry, in his clever work upon Cyprus, attributes the formation of salt to the fact of the sea-water percolating through the sand, and thus filling the lake;—this theory is disputed, and I incline to the native belief, "that the salt lies within the soil, and is taken into solution by the water, which deposits the same amount upon the dry surface when exhausted by evaporation." In support of this opinion, I adduce a proof in the fact of the small freshwater stream which flows from the higher ground through the arches of the aqueduct, depositing salt as its surface contracts during the dry season.

A strong efflorescence of true chloride of sodium is left upon the sides of its bed and upon the bottom as the water becomes exhausted; this must be the salt which the fresh water