mplexion that tells its own story of the
unhealthiness of the place, without instituting special inquiry. One can
fairly sniff fever and ague in the streets.

Much taste is displayed in architectural matters by the wealthier
residents. The walls surrounding the little compounds are sometimes
adorned with house-leeks or cactus, tastefully set out along the top;
and, in other cases, with ornamental tiles. The walls of the houses are
decorated with paintings depicting, in bright colors, scenes of the
chase, birds, animals, and mythological subjects.

The charvadars lead the way to a big caravanserai in the heart of the
city. The place is found to be filled with a miscellaneous crowd of
caravan people, travellers, merchants, and dervishes. The serai also
appears to be a custom-house and emporium for wool, cotton, and other
products of the tributary country. Horses, camels, and merchandise crowd
the central court, and rising fifty feet above all this confusion and
babel is a wooden tower known as a tullar. This is a dilapidated
framework of poles that sways visibly in the wind, the uses of which at
first sight it is not easy to determine. Some of the natives motion for
us to take possession of it, however; and we subsequently learn that the
little eyrie-like platform is used as a sleeping-place by travellers of
distinction. The elevation and airiness are supposed to be a safeguard
against the fever and a refuge from the terrible mosquitoes, of which
Asterabad is over-full.

An hour after our arrival, Abdul goes out and discovers a Persian
gentleman named Mahmoud Turki Aghi, who presents himself in the capacity
of British agent here. As we were in ignorance of the presence of any
such official being in Asterabad, he comes as a pleasant surprise, and
still more pleasant comes an invitation to accept his hospitality.

From him we learn that the steamer we expect to take at Bunder Guz, the
port of Asterabad, eight farsakhs distant, will not sail until six days
later. Mindful of the fever, from which he is still a sufferer to an
uncomfortable extent, E------looks a trifle glum at this
announcement, and, after our traps are unpacked at Mahmoud Turki Aghi's,
he ferrets out a book of travels that I had often heard him refer to as
an authority on sundry subjects. Turning over the leaves, he finds a
reference to Bunder Guz, and reads out the story of a certain
"gimlet-tailed fly" that makes life a burden to the unwary traveller who