are tired and hungry. They drag and stumble along in a
most tiresome manner. There is moonlight, that ought to add poetry to
the scenery--but in Persia there is no poetry about anything. There are a
great many caravans on the road--they all travel at night to save the
animals from the great heat of the day--long strings of camels with their
monotonous bells, and dozens of donkeys or mules, some with the covered
double litters--the _kerjawa_. These _kerjawas_ are comfortable enough
for people not accustomed to ride, or for women who can sleep comfortably
while in motion inside the small panier. The _kerjawa_ is slung over the
saddle like two large hampers with a roof of bent bands of wood. A cloth
covering is made to turn the _kerjawa_ into a small private room, an
exact duplicate of which is slung on the opposite side of the saddle. Two
persons balancing each other are required by this double arrangement, or
one person on one side and an equivalent quantity of luggage on the other
so as to establish a complete balance--a most important point to consider
if serious accidents are to be avoided.

Every now and then the sleepy voice of a caravan man calls out
"Salameleko" to my coachman, and "Salameleko" is duly answered back;
otherwise we rattle along at the speed of about four miles an hour,
bumping terribly on the uneven road, and the diligence creaking in a most
perplexing manner.

At Hasanabad, the second stage, I was more fortunate and got four good
horses in exchange for the tired ones. One of them was very fresh and
positively refused to go with the others. The driver, who was brutal,
used his stock-whip very freely, with the result that the horse smashed
part of the harness and bolted. The other three, of course, did the same,
and the coachman was not able to hold them. We travelled some few hundred
yards off the road at a considerable speed and with terrible bumping, the
shaky, patched-up carriage gradually beginning to crumble to pieces. The
boards of the front part fell apart, owing to the violent oscillations of
the roof, and the roof itself showed evident signs of an approaching
collapse. We were going down a steep incline, and I cannot say that I
felt particularly happy until the horses were got under control again. I
feared that all my photographic plates and cameras might get damaged if
the diligence turned over.

While the men mended the harness I had a look at the scenery. The
formation of the country