He
prefers to leave that to take care of itself. We find the same
characteristics not only in his frivolous Chappar khana art--where he can
be studied unawares and is therefore quite natural--but in his more
serious art, in his music, in his business transactions, in his political
work. The lack of simplicity which we notice in his rude drawings can be
detected in everything else he does, and the evident delight which he
takes in depicting a peacock with its tail spread in all its glory is
nothing more and nothing less than an expression of what the Persian
feels within himself in relation to his neighbours.

Nothing has a greater fascination for him than outward show and
pomp. He cares for little else, and a further proof of this unhappy
vainglory is obtained by the study of the wall scrolls of the
travelling public--whether travelling officially or for trading
purposes--representing in Persia usually the most go-ahead and
intelligent section of the Persian population.

On we go along the dreary track, again on flat, desolate country of sand
and stones at the spur of the mountains to the west and south-west. Sand
deposits rise at a gentle gradient up to half the height of these
mountains, well padding their slopes. The track here leads us due south
to a low pass at an altitude of 5,680 feet. One gets so tired of the
monotonous scenery that one would give anything to perceive something
attractive; nor is the monotony of the journey diminished by two other
miserable nagging soldiers who have clung to us as an escort from
Kermanshah, and who are running after our horses moaning and groaning and
saying they are starved and tired and have not received their pay nor
their food from the Government for several months.

On the other side of the pass there is a basin encircled by mountains,
except to the south-east, where we find an open outlet. The track goes
south-south-east through this yellow plain, and on proceeding across we
find several conical black mounds with curious patches of a verdigris
colour. To the east rises a low sand dune.

We come in sight of Shemsh, a most forlorn, cheerless place. Sadek
gallops ahead with the _horjins_, in which he has the cooking pans, some
dead fowls, and a load of vegetables and pomegranates, and I slow down to
give him time to prepare my lunch. I arrived at the place at 2.45 p.m.
There was only a desolate caravanserai and a Chappar khana.

On the Yezd-Kerman track there are not mo