84 By Mountain, Lake, and Plain 



half a gale. We have not gone far over the hard 

 baked plain before it is clear we are in haunts 

 of geese. Their distant music, that has been 

 compared, not inaptly, to that of a pack in full 

 cry, first strikes the ear and draws our eyes to 

 a distant skein, and from that moment till dusk 

 we are, practically, never without geese in sight. 

 Blended with this sound is the faint cawing of 

 thousands upon thousands of crows high in the 

 air. A great river of them, one might call it an 

 inky way, extends right across the sky's blue dome. 

 These birds arrive in Seistan after the summer's 

 heat has gone, and through the winter may be 

 seen in the inhabited parts in big flocks of char- 

 acteristic shape. In the evenings they have the 

 curious habit of collecting, to fly in a huge stream 

 to the Hamun, where they roost on the above- 

 water roots of the reeds. In the morning the 

 stream flows back. The causes which led to the 

 adoption of this strange custom would be an 

 interesting subject for inquiry. 1 



An hour's riding brings us to the edge of the 

 water, where a long low band or earthwork has 

 been thrown up to prevent the further advance of 

 the flood. Beyond, there is nothing to be seen 



1 There are no tall trees in Seistan, but most villages have a few 

 fruit or willow trees of no great size, while there is an extensive 

 belt of tamarisk country in the upper part of the delta. 



