110 BAGHDAD TO KERMANSHAH. 



return for water and a modicum of labour. Presently 

 the palm-girt banks of the Diala rise uncertainly on the 

 horizon, and after crossing the river by a bridge of 

 boats your way lies through a zone of partial cultivation 

 which, thanks to the proximity of the river, extends up 

 to the frontier. The small towns of Yakubieh, Shah- 

 raban, Kizil Robat, and Khanikin, all buried in palm- 

 trees, afford you shelter for the night, where solemn, 

 long-legged storks occupy every house -roof, cutting 

 quaint figures as they stand motionless with one leg 

 tucked up, sharply silhouetted against the golden back- 

 ground of the western sky. 



By the time you reach Khanikin you have discovered 

 several errors in the guide-book ; but let me not be 

 hypercritical, for after all the wonderful thing is that 

 there should be a guide-book at all. 



After crossing the frontier, which you recognise by a 

 small round tower, the country becomes broken with 

 low hills, which culminate in the rugged peaks and 

 savage mountain gorges of Kurdistan. On the right 

 bank of the Hulvan, prettily situated on a steep hill- 

 side, stands Kasr-i-Shirin, the first town encountered 

 in Persia, and likewise the first place of any interest on 

 the road from Baghdad, for close by are the substantial 

 remains of the palace built by the monarch Khosroe 

 for his beautiful bride Shirin, whose personality is 

 enshrouded in a veil of the wildest romance. The story 

 of the great love of Ferhad for the peerless Shirin, of 

 the colossal works which he undertook as the price of 

 her hand, of his tragic self-destruction on hearing a 

 false tale of her death, Is one with which that quaint 

 enigma, the story-teller of Asia, knows full well he can 

 still set a cord trembling through the passionate pulses 

 of the East. One of the buildings still standing is 

 undoubtedly a fire temple, while the remains of a vast 



