. A ride to India across Persia and Baluchistan. of sapphire blue anddazzling white, with not a speck to mar it, savewhere, occasionally, the warm sun-rays had, hereand there, laid bare chains of dark rocks, givingthem the appearance of islands in this ocean ofsnow. At Pitche, the midday station, no horses wereto be had ; so, notwithstanding that deep snow-drifts lay between us and Kushku Baira, the haltfor the night, we were compelled, after a coupleof hours rest, to set out on the ponies that hadbrought us from Rabat Kerim. More perhapsby good luck than anything else, we reached thelatter to
. A ride to India across Persia and Baluchistan. of sapphire blue anddazzling white, with not a speck to mar it, savewhere, occasionally, the warm sun-rays had, hereand there, laid bare chains of dark rocks, givingthem the appearance of islands in this ocean ofsnow. At Pitche, the midday station, no horses wereto be had ; so, notwithstanding that deep snow-drifts lay between us and Kushku Baira, the haltfor the night, we were compelled, after a coupleof hours rest, to set out on the ponies that hadbrought us from Rabat Kerim. More perhapsby good luck than anything else, we reached thelatter towards 9 A bright starlit nightfavoured us, and, with the exception of a coupleof falls apiece, we were none the worse. Wefound, too, to our great delight, a blazing fire A RIDE TO INDIA. burning in the post-house, kindled by somecaravan-men. But there is always a savingclause in Persia. No water was to be had forlove or money till the morning, and, knowing theraging thirst produced by melted snow, we hadto forget our thirst till next POST-HOUSE AT KUSHKU BAIRA. A pleasant surprise also was in store for or three miles beyond Kushku Baira wewere clear of snow altoofether. Not a vestiofe ofwhite was visible upon the bare stony but dull drab desert, stretching awayon every side to a horizon of snow-capt hills,recalling, by their very whiteness, the miseries of TEHERAN—ISPAHAN. 113 the past two days. Berik Allah! * cried Gerome. We have done with the snow now, Inshallah!f I replied, though with an inward conviction that we should see it again further on, and suffer accordingly. The sacred city of KoomJ is one of the pleasantest recollections I retain of the ride between the capital and Ispahan. It was about two oclock on the afternoon of the 6th of February that, breasting a chain of low sandy hills, the huge golden dome of the Tomb of Fatima became visible. We were then still four miles off; but, even with our jaded steeds, the ride became what it
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