of rusty gold braid on his
sleeve. "You cannot go on alone. It is not safe." We then learnt that
a large lion had infested the caravan-track over the pass for some
days, and had but yesterday attacked the mail and carried off one of
the mules, the native in charge only just escaping by climbing a tree.

Persian travel is full of these little surprises or rather items of
news; for one must be of a very ingenuous disposition to be surprised
at anything after a journey of any length in that country. If the man
had said that an ichthyosaurus or dodo barred the way, I should have
believed him just as much. Gerome sharing my opinion that the report
was got up for the sake of extorting a few kerans, we soon sent our
informants about their business, and calmly proceeded on our journey.
Nevertheless, the Kotal Doktar would not be a pleasant place to
encounter the "king of beasts," I thought. The pass consists simply of
a narrow pathway four feet wide, on the one side a perpendicular wall
of rock, on the other an equally sheer precipice.

"Did you come across the lion?" was Mr. J---- 's first question, as
we dismounted at the gate of his telegraph-station at Kazeroon. "I
suppose not," he added, seeing the surprise with which I greeted his
remark. "We have had three parties out from here this week, but with
no luck. I just managed to get a sight of him, and that's all. He is a
splendid beast."

Ignorance had indeed been bliss in our case, and I felt some
compunction when I remembered how disdainfully we had treated the
ragged sergeant and his men. They would have been of no use, except
in the way of stop-gaps, like the babies, in cheap prints, that the
Russian traveller in the sleigh throws to the wolves to occupy their
attention while he urges on his mad career, a pistol in each hand and
the reins in his mouth. Still, even for this purpose, they might have
been useful, and were certainly worth a few kerans. I was glad not to
learn the truth till we reached Kazeroon. The enjoyment of the meal of
which we partook at the summit of the pass would have been somewhat
damped by the feeling that at any moment a loud roar, bursting out of
the silent fastnesses of the Kotal Doktar, might announce the approach
of its grim tenant.

There was, after all, nothing very remarkable about the occurrence,
for the southern parts of Persia are infested with wild animals of
many kinds. Of this I was already aware, but not that lions were among
th