elects to linger there on the Caspian shore. Between this gimlet-tailed
pest, however, and the mosquitoes of Asterabad we decide that there can
be very little to choose, and so make up our minds to accept our host's
hospitality for a day and then push on.

During the day we call on the Russian consul to get our passports vised.
As between English and Russian prestige, the latter are decidedly to the
fore in Asterabad. The bear has his big paw firmly planted on this
fruitful province--it is more Russian than Persian now; before long it
will be Russian altogether. Nothing is plainer to us than this, as we
reach the Russian Consulate and are introduced by Mahmoud Turki Aghi to
the consul. He is no "native agent." On the contrary, he is one of the
biggest "personages" I have seen anywhere. He is the sort of man that the
Russian Government invariably picks out for its representation at such
important points in Asia as Asterabad.

A six-footer of magnificent physique, with a smooth and polished address,
all smiles and politeness, the Russian consul wears a leonine mustache
that could easily be tied in a knot at the back of his head. Although he
is the only European resident of Asterabad save a few Cossack attendants,
he wears fashionable Parisian clothes, a wealth of watch-chain, rings,
and flash jewellery, patent-leather shoes, and all the accompaniments of
an ostentatious show of wealth and personal magnificence. His rooms are
equally gorgeous, and contain large colored portraits of the Czar and
Czarina.

The intent and purpose of all this display is to fill the minds of the
natives, and particularly the native officials, with an overwhelming
sense of Russian grandeur and power. No Persian can enter the presence of
this Russian consul in his rooms without experiencing a certain measure
of awe and admiration. They regard with covetous eyes the rich and
comfortable appointments of the rooms, and the big gold watch-chains and
rings on the consul's person. They too would like to be in the Russian
service if its rewards are on such a magnificent scale. Of patriotism to
the Shah they know nothing--self-interest is the only master they
willingly serve.

No one knows this better than the Russian consul; and in the case of
influential officials and other useful persons, he sees to it that gold
watches and such-like tokens of the Czar's esteem are not lacking. The
result is that Asterabad, both city and province, is even now mor