is periodical. It commences falling towards the middle of October, and continues until the end of January. February is a less rainy month, and the sky is sometimes cloudless. The author before quoted, remarks, that "towards the middle of March the rains commence heavily, and last till the end of April. May is a delightful month, the refreshing dews aid vegetation and temper the heat of June. After this season, the sun has quite a scorching power upon the ground, which is moistened by neither rain or dew."

This state of things would be unbearable, were it not for the refreshing sea-breeze, which is felt on all shores of the Mediterranean. About the middle of September this wind ceases, and for six weeks the heat is excessive, until, towards the end of October, the sky becomes covered with rain clouds. Thus we see in the summer, the south wind is refreshing, because it is from the sea, and on the contrary, the north wind from Asia Minor brings all kinds of unhealthy vapours. True it is, that the northern parts of the island suffer less, because the wind has been partly cleared by its passage over the sea; but it is simply unendurable to the people of the southern districts, to whom it brings the parching heat of the hot dry countries, which it has scoured in crossing the Olympian chain. Should this wind rage for seven or eight days continuously, all vegetation is injured, every fruit-tree and plant withered, and the looked-for harvest wholly at an end. For this reason, scarcity is so often felt in Cyprus, notwithstanding its fertility and good

soil. These burning winds, and scorching heat, are the scourges of the country.

The lower classes of Cypriotes wear large fig or cabbageleaves upon their heads to protect them from the rays of the sun. Strict attention to cleanliness and careful avoidance of excess in stimulants are necessary in this island as elsewhere.

It would seem that in the climate of Cyprus there must be something entirely different from that of all the three countries between which it lies. The climate is, however, subject to great changes; during one-third of the year, rain falls abundantly, and during a second third, it is as delightfully cool, and lovely, as on the coasts of Italy, whilst the rest of the year is as hot as in the desert of Sahara.

During the winter season it rains incessantly; about the middle of October, the rain clouds begin to obscure the sky, and from that time until February the water falls down in abundance. To this succeeds an exquisite spring, bringing with it the perfumes of a thousand flowers, and a fresh and delightful atmosphere.

About the middle of March rain again begins to fall in passing showers, which, although less violent than those of winter, continue with more or less intermission until the middle of May, when they are replaced by the heavy dew which falls during the night. During this season, which lasts for about a quarter of a year, the country is a paradise, until at length comes. summer with its burning heat. In June, all moisture seems to have departed from the atmosphere, and

towards the end of the month, the heat is fearful, and the sky becomes a changeless expanse of glorious deep blue. Only from time to time, a fresh sea breeze finds its way to the land, to indulge the inhabitants with a fresh breath of air. The worst, however, has yet to come, for towards the end of September, even these light breezes die away. The air becomes thick and obscure, and the whole atmosphere damp and sultry. The grass and vegetation generally are dried up even to the roots, and the leaves fall from the trees, which now stretch out their naked arms like ghostly forms, scarcely visible through the surrounding fog. Not a drop of water remains in the brooks and river sources, and travelling is only possible during the night. Business is at a standstill, and the people do nothing but inquire, how long it will be before the rain will come again.

It is thought by many that the summer is hotter in Nikosia than it is in Cairo, notwithstanding that the sea and the snow-clad hills of Asia Minor are at so short a distance. I can only account for this circumstance by the fact that in the valley of the Nile, when the water of the river is rising, there is always a gentle breeze perceptible, and moreover, from the broad expanse of water which covers the country, much more moisture is given off than in the drier atmosphere of Cyprus.

Mariti tells us, that the intensity of the summer heat is often modified by a cooling wind called imbat.* This wind, * This wind has been erroneously called "limbat" from, we presume, a confusion of a French article with its noun, "l'imbat."

which generally commences blowing at two o'clock in the morning on the first day, increases till noon, then gradually falls, and towards three o'clock in the afternoon ceases entirely. The imbat, which begins early in summer, and continues until September, appears to last about an hour longer each succeeding day, for five days, when it recommences the five days' course. If the horizon should be clear the wind will be weak, but if dark, heavy weather may be expected; occasionally a dangerous north wind succeeds the imbat, which commences at seven o'clock in the morning, increases steadily till noon, and continues blowing till evening. Should this wind last for any length of time the crops suffer severely.

The same authority mentions, that the cold is never so great as to necessitate fires in the houses, these being only kindled to obviate the effects of the excessive moisture. From this description he, however, excepts the country immediately around Olympus, where the snow often lies to midsummer.

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CHAPTER XXI.

BAFFO AND KUKLIA.

EARLY next morning, on leaving my sleeping apartment, I found my dragoman, in company with a young dealer in Paphian curiosities, hanging about the door, and evidently on the watch to fasten their company on me, should I attempt to visit any of the surrounding ruins. Not being desirous of their interference, or assistance, I evaded them, and quietly strolled down to the sea-shore. As I looked around, I observed, against the horizon, the small houses and slender minarets of Ktima, a little town standing upon raised stone dikes. Somewhat lower down, a huge mass of sandstone extended for some little distance along the shore, the appearance of which at first puzzled me exceedingly. On the side facing the sea, large and small chambers were hollowed out, and every here, and there, roughly