ere arid sandy deserts, dangerous alike to native or European
travellers, are the rule, and cover those large open spaces marked
upon maps as "unexplored." Notwithstanding the great width of the bed
of the Purali river in many places, it has no regular outlet into the
sea. Its waters, when in flood from rainfall, lose themselves in
the level plains in a chain of lagoons or swamps. Some of these are
several miles in length, but decrease considerably in the dry season,
when the water becomes salt. The Habb river, which divides Las from
the British province of Sind, is another case in point. It possesses
permanent banks, is fed from the Pabb chain of mountains, and after
heavy rains in these hills a large body of water is formed, which
rushes down to the sea with great force and velocity. But at other
times water is only to be found in a few small pools in its rocky bed.
It is, in short, a mountain torrent on a large scale. So also with the
greater number of streams in the western districts, though a few of
these have more the semblance of rivers than can be found elsewhere in
Baluchistan. Of lakes there are none throughout the entire area of the
country.

At Outhal we were met by one Hussein Khan, a wild-looking fellow
mounted on a good-looking chestnut horse, its saddle and headstalls
ornamented with bright-coloured leathers and gold and silver
ornaments. Hussein was from Beila, with a message from the Djam to say
that I was welcome in his dominions. Tents were then pitched, and
I invited Hussein to partake of refreshment, which was refused. He
accepted a cigarette, however, but seemed undecided whether to smoke
or eat it, till presented with a light. Having asked if I would like
to be saluted with guns on arrival, an offer I politely declined, my
visitor then left to prepare for our reception on the morrow.

[Illustration: OUR CAMP AT OUTHAL]

Daybreak saw us well _en route_ and by 10 a.m. we were in sight of
Beila. About a mile or so out of the city, a mounted sowar in scarlet
and gold uniform, and armed with two huge horse-pistols and a long
cavalry sabre, galloped up to the caravan. "It is a messenger from
the palace," said Kamoo, "to say that his Highness the Djam has been
suddenly called away to Kej, [C] but that his son, Prince Kumal Khan,
is riding out in state to meet the sahib, and conduct him to his
father's city."

The prince shortly afterwards appeared, mounted on a huge camel,
the tail and hind quart