ls to flow in. A
stream of slimy, yellow mud, two hundred yards wide, is a most
disagreeable obstacle to overcome with a bicycle; but confined in narrow,
deep channels, the conditions would be infinitely worse. It is a dreary
and forbidding stretch of country hereabout, the carcasses of camels that
have dropped exhausted by the roadside, are frequently passed, and
jackals feasting on them slink off at my approach, watch my progress past
with evident impatience, and then return again to their feast. Occasional
stretches of very fair wheeling are passed over, and at six farsakhs I
reach Mehr, the usual combination of brick caravanserai and mud village.

Here a halt is made for tea and such rude refreshments as are obtainable,
consuming them in the presence of the usual sore-eyed and
miserable-looking crowd; more than one poor wretch appealing to me to
cure his rapidly-failing sight. A gleam of warm sunshine brightens my
departure from Mehr, and after shaking off several following horsemen,
the going seems quite pleasant, the wheeling being very good indeed. The
mountains off to the left are variegated and beautiful on the lower and
intermediate slopes, and are crested with snow; scudding cloudlets, whose
multiform shadows are continually climbing up and over the mountains,
produce a pleasing kaleidoscopic effect, and here and there a sunny,
glistening peak rises superior to the changeful scenes below.

Sheepskin-busbied shepherds are tending flocks of very peculiar-looking
sheep on this plain, the first of the kind I have noticed. The fatty
continuation of the body, popularly regarded as an abnormal growth of
tail, is wanting; but what is lacking in this respect is amply
compensated for in the pendulous ears, these members hanging almost to
the ground; they have a goatish appearance generally, and may possibly be
the result of a cross. Herds of antelope also frequent this locality,
which by and by develops into a level mud-plain that affords smooth and
excellent wheeling, and over which I take the precaution of making the
best time possible, conscious that a few minutes' rain would render it
impassable for a bicycle; and wild wind-storms are even now careering
over it, accompanied by spits of snow and momentary squalls of hail.

A lone minar, looming up directly ahead like a tall factory chimney,
indicates my approach to Subzowar. The minaret is reached by sunset; it
turns out to be a lone shrine of some imam, from which