ons from the marshes
surrounding the city. It is certainly the dampest place in the world.
The sun is seldom seen, and one's clothes, even on a dry, rainless
day, become saturated with moisture.

The town is, nevertheless, prettily situated in a well-wooded country.
It would almost be imposing were it not for the heavy rains and dews,
which cause a rapid decay of the buildings. The latter are mostly of
red brick and glazed tiles.

Resht is the depot for goods to and from Persia--chiefly silks.
Tobacco is also grown in yearly increasing quantities. Several Russian
firms have opened here for the manufacture of cigarettes, which,
though they may find favour among the natives, are too hot and coarse
for European tastes. They are well made and cheap enough--sevenpence a
hundred.

In addition to the native population, Resht contains about five
hundred Armenians, and a score or so of Europeans. Among the latter
are a Russian and a British vice-consul. To the residence of the
latter we repaired. Colonel Stewart's kindness and hospitality are a
byword in Persia, and the Sunday of our arrival at Resht was truly a
day of rest after the discomfort and privations we had undergone since
leaving Baku.

[Footnote A: _Isvostchik_, a cab-driver.]

[Footnote B: "Tchornigorod," or "Black Town," so called from the smoke
that hangs night and day over the oil-factories.]

[Footnote C: Russian cabbage-soup.]

CHAPTER III.

RESHT--PATCHINAR.

Day broke gloomily enough the morning following the day of our arrival
at Resht. The snow, still falling fast, lay over two feet deep in
the garden beneath my window, while great white drifts barred the
entrance-gates of the Consulate. About eight o'clock our host made his
appearance, and, waking me from pleasant dreams of sunnier climes,
tried to dissuade me from making a start under such unfavourable
circumstances. An imperial courier had just arrived from Teheran, and
his report was anything but reassuring. The roads were in a terrible
state; the Kharzan, a long and difficult pass, was blocked with snow,
and the villages on either side of it crowded with weather-bound
caravans.

The prospect, viewed from a warm and comfortable bed, was not
inviting. Anxiety, however, to reach Teheran and definitely map out
my route to India overcame everything, even the temptation to defer a
journey fraught with cold, hunger, and privation, and take it easy for
a few days, with plenty of food an