es
in Turkestan. The three Frenchmen are excellent company; they entertain
us with European news, their views on the political aspect, and of
incidents on their fourgon journey from Tiflis. Among their charvadars is
a man who saw me last autumn at Ovahjik.

Much good riding surface prevails, and we pass the night of the 21st at
Lafaram. The crowds that everywhere gather about us are very annoying to
K------, whose fever and consequent weakness is hardly calculated to
sweeten his temper under trying circumstances. A whole swarm of women
gather to stare at us at Lafaram. "I'll soon scatter them, anyway," says
R------; and he reaches for a pair of binoculars hanging up in the
fourgon. Adjusting them to his eyes, he levels them at the bunch of
females, expecting to see them scatter like a flock of partridges.
Scattering is evidently about the last thing the women are thinking of
doing, however; they merely turn their attention to the binoculars and
concentrate their comments upon them instead of on other of our effects,
for the moment, but that is all.

In the vicinity of Subzowar we find the people engaged in harvesting the
crop of opium. The way they do it is to go through the fields of poppy
every morning and scarify the green heads with a knife-blade notched for
the purpose, like a saw. During the day the milky juice oozes out and
solidifies. In the evening the harvesters pass through the fields again,
scrape off the exuded opium, and collect it in vessels. This, after the
watery substance has been worked out with frequent kneadings and drying,
is the opium of commerce. The chief opium emporium of Persia is Shiraz,
where buyers ship it by camel-caravan to Bushire for export. Persian
opium commands the topmost prices in foreign markets.

Here every idler about the villages seems to be amusing himself by
working a ball of opium about in his hands, much as a boy delights in
handling a chunk of putty. Lumps as large as the fist are freely offered
me by friendly people, as they would hand one a piece of bread or a
pomegranate; I might collect pounds of the stuff by simply taking what is
offered me without the asking.

In the caravanserai at Miandasht, Abdul's failure to appreciate our
whilom and egotistical friend, the la-de-da telegraph-jee, at his own
valuation comes near resulting in a serious fracas. One of Abdul's most
valued services is keeping at a respectful distance the crowds of
villagers that invariably swarm