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CHAPTER XXL
A fine morning in Cappadocia—A ravine of caves and gardens—The
Valley of Guerem^—Cones standing like tents—A troglodyte cafd
— Bishopric of Matiane—Uch Hissar village and rock—A muster of
Moslems—Nevshehr—Another Greek merchant—Nar : a delightful
cave-dwellers' village—Rock and village of Orta Hissar.
In Constantinople and the coast towns of Asia Minor
they have it as a commonplace that "anything
can happen in the interior." This idea went with me
always, and insensibly coloured the prospect of each
day's journey. Every morning I set out with keen
anticipation of what was to follow : each evening I
looked forward with pleasure to the next day upon
the unknown ways of an ancient land. There was
ever speculation as to what might be behind the
next hill, what behind the next mountain - ridge
and beyond each succeeding turn or dip of road
seemed to lurk endless possibilities of scene and incident
and adventure ; every mile, indeed, had been
made pleasant by this delightful uncertainty. But
on no morning had anticipation been so strong as
when I left Urgub by a sandy track winding up
a gully to the higher land behind the town, knowing
that the strange Cappadocian country lay before
me.
The day spent in Urgub had made the town seem,
after all, a decadent metropolis of troglodytes—a place
fallen greatly from primitive simplicity. Now, however,
I was going to see unchanged haunts of the race ;