to the water, it gathers in the lowest spot it can reach, and there stagnates, unless it can wear a passage for itself, or find a subterraneous channel through the limestone mountain, and come to light again in a lower valley.  Such a reaeppearance we saw near Argos, a broad, swift stream—­the Erasmus—­rushing from under a mountain with such force as to turn mills; it is believed to come from a kalavothron in the northern part of Arcadia.  And not far from thence a fountain of fresh water bubbles up in the sea a few yards from the shore; this is traced to a similar source.  In some parts of Greece the remains may still be seen of the subterranean channels by which in ancient times the katavothra were kept clear, and thus prevented from overflowing.  In this way much land was artificially redeemed to agriculture.

If, now, you seek for the dwellers in this paradise, behold them in yon shepherd and his faithful dog—­Arcades ambo—­the shepherd muffled against the searching wind in hood and cloak, under his arm a veritable crook, while his sheep and goats are browsing about wherever a blade of grass or a green leaf can be found.  His invariable companion is—­I was about to say a tamed wolf; but in reality, an untamed animal of wolfish aspect and disposition, always eager to make your acquaintance.  These creatures are the torment of the traveler throughout Greece, and most of all in Arcadia.  If on foot, he can pick up a stone, at sight of which the enemy will beat a hasty retreat.  Greece seems to have been bountifully supplied with loose stones of the right size for this very purpose, just as the rattlesnake-plant is said to grow wherever the rattlesnake itself is found.  If on horseback, he can easily escape, although the animal will not scruple to hang to the horse’s tail or bite his heels.  Such was Arcadia in March.  No doubt, at another season it is a delightful retreat from the overpowering heat of the Greek summer.  It may have a beauty of its own at that season; but there can be little of that quiet rural landscape which we call Arcadian.

After crossing this plain, visiting by the way the ruins of Tegea, which consisted of a potato-field, sprinkled with bits of brick and marble, and a medieval church, with some ancient marble built into its walls, we came to a broad river, the Alpheus, whose water, when it has any, empties in a katavothron which we left on our right; followed it up in a southerly direction until we came to a little water in its bed, then crossing over some rolling land which divides the water-courses of Arcadia from those of Laconia, we found ourselves in a country of a very different character.  The land was better, and was covered with a low growth of wood; we could even see extensive forests on the sides of Parnon.  The scenery became highly picturesque, and the weather, although still rigorous, was more comfortable than in the morning.  Night came on us long before we reached our journey’s