sits cross-legged on a Persian nummud, is
a handsome, intelligent-looking man, who seems to be the most
pleasant-faced and entertaining conversationalist of the nomads. The kahn
grows particularly talkative and communicative, the evening hours flow
on, and while addressing his remarks and queries directly to the chief,
he gazes about him to observe the effects of his words on the general
assembly gathered inside and crowded about the tent-entrance. The
pleasant-faced man does far more talking in reply than does the chief
himself. In reply to the khan's innumerable queries he replies, in the
peculiar, hissing shibboleth of the camp, "O, O, O-O bus-s-s-orah,
b-s-s-s-orah." Sometimes the khan delivers himself of quite a lengthy
disquisition, and as his remarks are followed by the assembled nomads
with the eager interest of people who seldom hear anything but the music
of their own voices, the interesting individual above referred to
sprinkles his assenting "O, O, O" thickly along the line of the khan's
presumably edifying narrative; now and then the chief himself chimes in
with a quiet "b-s-s-s-orah." Here also, in this camp of surprises and
innovations, do I first hear the word "India" used in lieu of "Hindostan"
among Asiatics.

The fatigue of the day's journey, and the imperfect rest of the two
preceding nights, cause me to be overcome with drowsiness, early in the
evening, and I stretch oat alongside the bicycle and fall into a deep
sleep. An hour or two later I am awakened for the evening meal. Flat,
pancake-like sheets of unleavened bread, inferior to the bread of Persia,
and partaking somewhat of the character of the chupalties of India,
boiled goat, and the broth preserved from the same, together with the
regulation mast and doke, constitute the Eimuek supper. A liberal bowl of
the broth, an abundance of meat, bread, mast and doke are placed before
me on a separate wooden tray, while my escort, the chief, and several of
his men gather around a communal spread of the same variety of edibles. A
crowd of curious people occupy the remainder of the space inside, and
stand at the door. As I rise and prepare to eat, all eyes are turned upon
me as though anticipating some surprising exhibition of the strange
manners of a Ferenghi at his meals. Surveying the broth, I motion the
khan to try and obtain a spoon. The chief looks inquiringly at the khan,
and the khan with the gladsome expression of a person conscious of having
o