As soon as we found the villages deserted, and that there were no hopes of a supply of bread, we struck our tent, and proceeded on our journey; the pointed mountain Gutchbore north from our tent, at the distance of about two miles.
On the 29th, at ten in the forenoon, we left the inhospitable villages of Gimhaar, not without entertaining some apprehensions of meeting the inhabitants again in the course of the day. But though we took every precaution against being surprised, that prudence could dictate, our fears of the encounter did not rise to any great height. I got, indeed, on horseback, leaving my mule; and, putting on my coat of mail, leaving the fire-arms under the command of Kagi Ismael, the old Turk, I rode always about a quarter of a mile before the baggage, that they might not come suddenly upon us, as they had done the night before.
In a few minutes we passed three small clear streams in a very fertile country; the soil was a black loomy earth; the grass already parched, or rather entirely burnt up by the sun. Though this country is finely watered, and must be very fertile, yet it is thinly inhabited, and, as we were informed, very unwholesome. At three quarters past ten we came to the river Mahaanah, which swallows up these three brooks, its course nearly N. W. it was (even at this dry season of the year) a considerable stream.
Here we rested half an hour, and then pursued our journey straight north. We passed a large and deep valley called Werk Meidan, or the country of gold, though there is no gold in it. It is full of wood and bushes. We had
