Early the following morning, we were once more pursuing our path, which now became fainter and steeper as it rose towards the rocky ridge towering above us. Towards eleven o'clock, we reached some poor houses not far below the crest. Hoping to be able to purchase food, we stopped and made inquiries, but all the chief people seemed to be away at some market and there was nothing to be had. We continued on our way and after another hour's tramp came to a cattle trough by the side of the path. As there was water flowing here, we decided to halt till the afternoon, and found a snug spot a few yards up the hill. In the afternoon, after washing and shaving, we were nearly discovered by a man who appeared to be a gendarme. He came riding down the path and stopped to water his horse at the trough, but passed on without noticing anything. Soon afterwards we were again marching, still upwards towards the crest of the mountain ridge. We must have been now over 4,000 feet up, and hoped when we reached the top we should actually see the sea. An hour's trek took us to a poor village standing very high and, probably, in winter almost always in the clouds. An ill-clad woman informed us that she was a Greek who had only just arrived from Kastamuni. She seemed to have a pretty clear notion as to what we really were, but said nothing and, eventually, got us yoghourt and some chapatties. Our direction was now about north-east and we were making for Tel Kelik, a small place marked on the map, a little on the northern side of the watershed. Most of the peasants seemed never to have heard of it, and we had some difficulty in getting on to a path leading in the right direction. As it grew dusk, we found ourselves in a second village at almost the same elevation; there was no one about, but eventually a man turned up who said he was on his way home to another village. The village women in particular were most suspicious, declaring that there was no food anywhere; and it was not until some little while later, when the colour of our money had been clearly shown, that anything was forthcoming. We had intended to spend the night in a village hut if possible, as the only alternative was sleeping in the mist, which at 4,000 feet was a cold and dreary prospect. However, after some parleying, we were led to what proved to be the travellers' rest hut. Our story was absorbed with due interest, a large fire lighted and some food brought in. We lay down on mats on the floor, rejoicing in the warmth and, if undisturbed by smaller visitors, felt we should have a really good night's rest. Several village worthies looked in during the evening to see the Almans (Germans) and we hope were not disappointed. A young soldier just returned on leave from Constantinople helped to procure some butter and syrup for us. The latter is a poor substitute for treacle and seems to be made from raisins. This reception in a travellers' rest hut was the limit reached by our bluff; it gave us much satisfaction to think how annoyed our Turkish friends in Kastamuni would be to know of our being entertained in such a manner.