September 12.—The mules were all away feeding in the mountains, and the muleteers only came in late in the afternoon to prepare for the next journey, which, they said, was a long and difficult one; but the day was so pleasant, the house so comfortable, and the people so civil, that we easily put up with, the delay.

September 13.—Mesny's boy was now much better; he had been doctored with port wine during the last day or two, which, he had the bad taste to declare, he did not like half so well as pills. He was now set up on a mule, and performed the journey in safety.

We marched up a narrow valley, with very steep and wooded slopes on both sides, the stream at the bottom running through a thick jungle of briars, hazels, small poplars, and currants. I had often seen the hazel-nut tree before, but was never sure about it until now, when I found some nuts nearly ripe. There was a wild currant in this valley, with elliptical berries, as large as two ordinary currants. These were hardly ripe, and rather hard; they had the full flavour of the English red currant, but were very sour. Another small tree had exactly the leaf of the English oak, with long thorns on the branches. There were two kinds of rhododendrons, one just like that common in England, the other had broader and rounder leaves.