The gorge grew deeper, the stream more rapid. The cliffs
towered higher, black and grey in huge perpendicular stripes. We heard
sounds of thunder or of blasting which reverberated in the canyon; it
was oppressive and gloomy, and one shuddered to think what it would be
like if an earthquake occurred. The cliffs ceased abruptly in a huge
grass slope on which crowds of people were working on the new road; we
crossed the river over a wooden bridge.
We came down into Ipek suddenly, past the old orange towered monastery,
which lies, its outer walls half buried, keeping the landslides at bay.
Ramases, who had suddenly put on another air, flung his leg over the
saddle--he had previously been sitting sideways--and twisted his
moustache skywards. Jo wished to canter on, but he sternly forbade her,
flipping her horse on the nose and driving it back when she tried to
pass; for it would have damned his manly dignity for ever had a woman
preceded him.
Our first view of Ipek was of a forest of minarets shooting up from the
orchards, not a house was to be seen.
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