22 
HADGfi BACHIllE, 
vale, covered with rich pasture, but just as lonesome as the path 
which led to it; neither village, nor hut, nor wayfaring passenger, 
excepting ourselves, showing trace of human neighbourhood. 
This apparently untrodden plain stretches far to the south-east, 
to so distant a point, that I am told it joins the vast arid regions 
of Daly-nazir; the wild, deserted country where, two months 
before, we had lost ourselves in our way to Shiraz by the eastern 
or winter route. Having better guides on our present expe¬ 
dition, we jogged steadily forward up the northern line of the 
plain we were travelling; but all continued so drearily silent, 
that not even an animal of any kind appeared, nor the chirp of 
a bird, nor the hum of an insect, cheered the desert for a dis¬ 
tance of twenty miles; at the end of which we reached a cara¬ 
vansary in almost total ruins. It was ten o’clock at night, and 
the village of Koosh-Kizar, the usual resting-place, upwards of 
a mile further. We had already travelled six farsangs from 
our last halt; and being tired, men and horses, though the rooms 
in the caravansary were scarcely habitable, we thought it best to 
make good our quarters, and send the least fatigued to the 
village for provisions. 
We had hardly introduced ourselves into our dilapidated 
menzil, and disposed ourselves, some to rest, and others to sup¬ 
per, when we were disturbed by the arrival of new inhabitants,— 
Hadge Bachire and his train ! no less a personage than chief of 
the household to the royal mother of Hassan Ali Mirza, prince- 
governor of Shiraz ! and who was now on his way to Ispahan, to 
bring back a captious favourite Moullah, who had quitted the 
capital of Fars on some trivial subject of discontent. The 
worthy comptroller, was a eunuch from Abyssinia, old and 
wrinkled; and, sans ceremonie , he presented himself before us, 
