which he spoke as though it were a paradise on earth, which no doubt it is when compared with the hideously gloomy and painfully desolate surroundings of Miandasht, with its brackish water and its absence of supplies of any kind.
After lunch we started with fresh horses for Abbasabad — twenty-two miles. The road was good for about three miles, over a level, barren plain, when it entered a defile through a range of low, volcanic hills. Half-way we passed the serai and fortified village of Alhak, and about four miles from Abbasabad we were met by the naib, who escorted us to the chapar khaneh, which is one of the best, if not the best, on the whole road. We reached it shortly before four, having ridden the last few miles in the teeth of a strong equinoctial east wind. I went for a bath in a neighbouring kanant, where the water was quite tepid, probably owing to the volcanic nature of the ground, and at eight o'clock we retired to bed, having with difficulty closed up the numerous apertures against the strong east wind which was blowing.
When I went out on the following morning,
