anything but a restful night.

CHAPTER VII.

BEERJAND AND THE FRONTIER OF AFGHANISTAN.

Thirty miles over hill and dale, after leaving the little hamlet, and
behold, the city of Beerjand appears before me but a mile or thereabouts
away, at the foot of the hills I am descending. One's first impression of
Beerjand is a sense of disappointment; the city is a jumbled mass of
uninteresting mud buildings, ruined and otherwise, all of the same dismal
mud-brown hue. Not a tree exists to relieve the eye, nor a solitary green
object to break the dreary monotony of the prospect; the impression is
that of a place existing under some dread ban of nature that forbids the
enlivening presence of a tree, or even the redeeming feature of a bit of
greensward.

The broad, sandy bed of a stream contains a sluggishly-flowing reminder
of past spring freshets; but the quickening presence of a stream of water
seems thrown away on Beerjand, except as furnishing a place for
closely-veiled females to come and wash clothes, and for the daily wading
and disporting of amphibious youngsters. In any other city a part of its
mission would be the nurturing of vegetation.

The Ameer, Heshmet-i-Molk, I quickly learn, is living at his
summer-garden at Ali-abad, four farsakhs to the east. Curious to see
something of a place so much out of the world, and so little known as
Beerjand, I determine upon spending the evening and night here, and
continuing on to Ali-abad next morning.

There appears to be absolutely nothing of interest to a casual observer
about the city except its population, and they are interesting from their
strange, cosmopolitan character, and as being the most unscrupulous and
keenest people for money one can well imagine. The city seems a seething
nest of hard characters, who buzz around my devoted person like wasps,
seemingly restrained only by the fear of retribution from pouncing on my
personal effects and depriving me of everything I possess.

The harrowing experiences of Torbet-i Haiderie have taught a useful
lesson that stands me in good stead at Beerjand. Ere entering the city
proper, I enlist the services of a respectable-looking person to guide
the way at once where the pressing needs of hunger can be attended to
before the inevitable mob gathers about me and renders impossible this
very necessary part of the programme. Having duly fortified myself
against the anticipated pressure of circumstances by consuming bread and