roped our way to the stables, where, on the cleanest bundle of straw
I have ever seen--or smelt, for it was pitch dark--in a Persian
post-stable (probably the property of his Highness the Governor of
Ispahan), we were soon in the land of dreams. Had we known that we
were calmly reposing within a couple of feet of the royal charger's
heels, our slumbers might not have been so refreshing. Daylight
disclosed the fact.

The governor and his suite had apparently made a night of it. Although
it was past eight o'clock when we made a start, the prince, his suite,
soldiers, and grooms were none of them stirring, although his _chef_
was busily engaged, with his staff of assistants, preparing a
sumptuous breakfast of kababs, roast meat and poultry, pastry, and
confectionery of various kinds. I could not help envying the man whose
appetite and digestion would enable him to sit down to such a meal
at such an hour. Sherbet, the Shagird from Murchakhar informed us in
confidence, is the favourite drink of the Zil-i-Sultan. I only once
tasted sherbet in Persia, and was somewhat surprised--so lasting are
one's youthful associations--to find it utterly different to the
refreshing but somewhat depressing beverage of my school-days, sold,
if I remember rightly, at twopence a packet. The real sherbet I was
given (in a native house at Shiraz) consisted simply of a glass of
cold water with a lump of sugar in it--_eau sucre_, in fact. But
Persian sherbets are of endless varieties and flavours. Preserved
syrups of raspberry and pineapple, the juice of the fresh fruit of
lemon, orange, and pomegranate, are all used in the manufacture of
sherbet, which is, however, never effervescing. The water in which it
is mixed should be icy cold, and has, when served in Persia, blocks
of frozen snow floating on the surface. The "sherbet-i-bidmishk," or
"willow-flower sherbet," made from flowers of a particular kind of
willow distilled in water, is perhaps the most popular of all among
the higher classes, and is the most expensive.

The hunting-expedition (the Shagird, who was of a communicative
disposition, informed us) consisted of three parties located at
villages each within a couple of farsakhs of Murchakhar. Numbering
altogether over six hundred men (all mounted), they had been out
from Ispahan nearly ten days. Yesterday the prince's party had been
exceptionally lucky, and had had splendid sport. We passed, on the
road to Gez, a caravan of fifteen mule