SHIRAZ TO BUSHIRE. 43 



arrival was evidently exciting amongst our servants, 

 he could only prevail upon himself to answer to 

 their eager inquiries, that " God was the only God, 

 and that Mohammed was his Prophet." At length 

 he opened his saddle-bags, and brought forth two 

 closed metal dishes. Then, seeing that our eyes were 

 upon him, he threw himself down upon the ground ; 

 and, with an eye to future ImcksJieesh, he put on 

 the appearance of a man quite overcome with his 

 exertions. The dishes were a present from the kind 

 doctor. One contained a baked fowl hidden in rice 

 and raisins, still smoking hot ; the other, a pasanjan, 

 the chef-d'oeuvre of the Persian cuisine, the secret of 

 which, like Philippe's " Crameuski a la Polonaise," 

 is beyond the ken of non-culinary mortals. Whilst 

 we were at dinner, little ragged rosy-faced children 

 came tripping along the neighbouring house-tops, and 

 took up points of observation near us. Beyond them 

 were groups of veiled women whispering together, 

 and peering curiously at us through their thick white 

 veils. 



We passed the first few hours of darkness in con- 

 vulsed but futile attempts to sleep. The floor seemed 

 to be alive : we found to our cost at least I found 

 to mine, for I believe the Swede slept as soundly as 

 ever he did that there were other inhabitants of the 

 house besides the family of the old greybeard. 



May 26th. We were in the saddle some hours 

 before daybreak. My companion the Swede was 



