he outlook; they see that I am
swimming all right, and they confine themselves to motioning the
direction for me to take. The current carries me some little distance
down stream, when I find footing on the lower extremity of the sand-bar,
and on it, wade up; stream again with some difficulty against swiftly
rushing water four feet deep. The khan thinks I have had the narrowest
possible escape, and in tones of desperation he shouts out and begs me
not to attempt to cross the other channel without assistance. "The
receipt!" he shouts, "the receipt! Allah preserve us! the receipt; Hesh
met-i-Molk." The worthy khan is afflicted with a keen consciousness of
coming punishment awaiting him at Beerjand, should I happen to come to
grief while under his protection, and he, no doubt, suffers an agony of
apprehension during the fifteen minutes I am battling with the rapid
current of the Harood.

The second channel is found less swift and comparatively easy to ford.
The sturdy nomads, having transported all of my escort's damageable
effects, those three now stark-naked worthies mount with fear and
trembling their equally stark-naked steeds-naked all, save for the
turbans of the men and the bridles of their horses. Whatever of
intrepidity the khan possesses is of a quantity scarcely visible to the
naked eye, and it is, therefore, scarcely surprising to find him trying
to persuade, first the mudbake and then the mirza, to take the
initiative. His efforts prove wholly ineffectual, however, to bring the
feebly flowing tide of their courage up to the high-water level of
assuming the duties of leadership, and so in the absence of any
alternative, he finally screws up his own courage and leads the way. The
others allow their horses to follow closely behind. The horses seem to
regard the rushing volume of yellow water about them with far less
apprehension than do their riders. While dressing myself on the eastern
bank, the frightened mutterings of "Allah" from these gallant horsemen
come floating across the water, and, as they reach the sand-bar in the
middle of the stream, I can hear their muttered importunities for
Providential protection change, like the passing shadow-whims of Nature's
children that they are, into gleeful chuckles at their escape.

When the khan emerges from the water, the ruling passion within his
avaricious nature asserts itself with ridiculous promptness. With the
water dripping from his dangling feet, he rides hast