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XVII. On the Road to the Caspian. 



" Turkoman countless as their flocks led forth 

 From th' aromatic pastures of the north." 



MOORE. 



AFTER the last day I had allowed myself on 

 the stag ground, I rejoined D. at a romantic 

 spot called Ishaki, in the Gurgan gorge. The 

 clear stream here dashes over a boulder -strewn 

 bed. On the north side sheer limestone cliffs 

 rose in solid tiers one above the other to a 

 great height, while facing them were dark, 

 wooded hills of gracious outline, the topmost 

 tinted with autumnal shades of gold that lower 

 down melted into the deep greens of late 

 summer. I think the march down this valley 

 into the country of the Yamut Turkoman equalled 

 anything I had seen in quiet loveliness even in 

 Kashmir. I asked Ibrahim one day in that 

 glorious country of forest and mountain how it 

 compared with the dusty wind-swept plains of 

 Seistan. " Sahib," he replied, "for us people 



