42 By Mountain, Lake, and Plain 



possible to stand. It was like wrestling against 

 something solid. To walk on the ridges was 

 dangerous, to spy out of the question, so we went 

 lower to try for urial. But there also one felt as if 

 battling against an overwhelming torrent. Some- 

 times in a backwater for a few seconds we were 

 in comparative calm, but could hear and see the 

 power of the blast a few yards away ; then next 

 moment a buffet would send us staggering. The 

 sky was the colour of a London fog with driving 

 dust. Ibrahim and I had our motor goggles ; 

 Eahmat suffered, and suggested a return to camp. 

 Lunch, in which sand and grit were mingled in 

 undesirable proportions, was eaten in indescrib- 

 able misery, and shortly after I acknowledged 

 myself beaten. That was not the usual wind of 

 Seistan from the north, but a simoom from the 

 south, hot and stifling. In the night there came 

 a sudden change. The rain came down in tor- 

 rents. My tent was luckily on a high spot in 

 a valley, that soon was an island with water rush- 

 ing on both sides, while all around the limestone 

 hills roared and spouted. In Seistan, where the 

 annual rainfall averages about two inches, sounds 

 and sights such as these are rare as they are 

 delightful. 



Next morning the air was still, cold, cleared of 

 dust, and stimulating as wine. Instead of bitter 



