is carved in
the rock by the side of the sculpture.

A few hundred yards from this well-preserved rock carving, a round tower
90 or 100 feet in height has been erected. Its diameter inside is about
40 feet and the thickness of the wall about 20 feet. It has two large
yellow doors. Why this purposeless structure was put up, nobody seems to
know for certain. One gets a beautiful view from the top of the
wall--Teheran in the distance on one side; the Shah-Abdul-Azim mosque on
the other. Mountains are close by to the east, and a patch of cultivation
and a garden all round down below. Near the mosque--as is the case with
all pilgrimage places in Persia--we find a bazaar crammed with beggars,
black bag-like women riding astride on donkeys or mules, depraved-looking
men, and stolid-looking Mullahs. There were old men, blind men, lame men,
deaf men, armless men, men with enormous tumours, others minus the nose
or lower jaw--the result of cancer. Millions of flies were buzzing about.

One of the most ghastly deformities I have ever seen was a tumour under a
Mullah's foot. It was an almost spherical tumour, some three inches in
diameter, with skin drawn tight and shining over its surface. It had
patches of red on the otherwise whitish-yellow skin, and gave the
impression of the man resting his foot on an unripe water-melon with the
toes half dug into the tumour.

Non-Mussulmans are, of course, forbidden to enter the mosque, so I had to
be content with the outside view of it--nothing very grand--and must take
my reader again along the flat, uninteresting country towards Kum.

The usual troubles of semi-civilised Persia are not lacking even at the
very first stage. There are no relays of horses, and those just
unharnessed are too tired to proceed. They are very hungry, too, and
there is nothing for them to eat. Several hours are wasted, and Sadek
employs them in cooking my dinner and also in giving exhibitions of his
temper to the stable people. Then follow endless discussions at the top
of their voices, in which I do not take part, for I am old and wise
enough not to discuss anything with anybody.

The prospects of a backshish, the entreaties and prayers being of no
avail, Sadek flies into a fury, rushes to the yard, seizes the horses and
harness, gives the coachman a hammering (and the post master very nearly
another), and so we are able to start peacefully again at three a.m., and
leave Chah-herizek behind.

But the horses