urbed by earthquakes, was,
however, almost out of the question, on account of a most abominable
stench of drainage, which came on at sunset and lasted throughout the
night. So overpowering was it that towards 3 a.m. both Gerome and
myself were attacked by severe vomiting, and recurrence was had to the
medicine-chest and large doses of brandy. One might have been sleeping
over an open drain. It was not till next day that I discovered the
cause--rotten naphtha, which springs in large quantities from the
ground all round the village. Curiously enough, the smell is not
observable in the daytime.

"We have done with the snow now, monsieur," said Gerome, as we rode
next morning through a land of green barley and cotton plains, date
palms, and mimosa. On the other hand, we had come in for other
annoyances, in the shape of heat, dust, and swarms of flies and
mosquitoes. Nearing the sea, vegetation entirely ceases. Nothing is
visible around but hard calcined plain, brown and level, lost on the
horizon seaward in a series of mirages, ending northward in a chain
of rocky, precipitous mountains. The bright, clear atmosphere was
remarkable; objects thirty or forty miles off looking but a mile or
so away. About midday an unusual sight appeared on the horizon--two
Europeans, a lady and gentleman, mounted on donkeys, and attended by
a chalvadar on a third, who apparently carried all the baggage of
the party. Halting for a few moments, and waiving introduction,
we exchanged a few words. Mr. and Mrs. D---- were on their way to
Teheran, with the object of making scientific researches at Persepolis
and other parts of Persia. I could not help admiring the courage of
the lady, though regretting, at the same time, the task she had set
herself. To inquiries of "How is the road?" I replied, "Very good,"
May the lie be forgiven me! It was told for a humane purpose.

Save a large herd of gazelle on the far horizon, nothing occurred to
break the monotony of the journey through deep heavy sand till about 4
p.m., when a thin thread of dark blue, cutting the yellow desert and
lighter sky-line, appeared before us. It was the Persian Gulf. An hour
later, and Sheif, the landing-place for Bushire, was reached.

A trim steam-launch, with Union Jack floating over her stern, awaited
us. She was sent by Colonel Ross, British Resident at Bushire, who
kindly invited me to the Residence during my stay in the Persian port.
I was not sorry, after the hot, dust