ng thirteen hours, we reached the
village of Muht, a place of fair size in a picturesque little valley with
nice hills on all sides.

To the north-east of the village was an interesting demolished fortress
standing on a low hill. It had a very deep well in the centre within its
walls, which were of stone, with twelve turrets round it. At the foot of
the hill was a _haoz_, or water tank, now dry, which the natives said was
very ancient and which they attributed to the Hindoos. To the west a
lake was said to exist called Kiemarakalah, by the side of a mountain
not unlike a Swiss roof in shape; while to the north-east of the fortress
were rugged rocks and low sand-hills. The elevation of this village was
6,520 feet.

We left Muht at noon of the same day and passed a small village on our
way, then we gradually ascended to a pass 7,050 feet high, on the other
side of which was a plain--green not from vegetation, but because the
clayish soil was of that colour--with hills to the east and west.

It was hardly possible to imagine more dreary, desolate scenery than that
through which we were going. There was not a living soul beyond ourselves
anywhere in sight. The camels, which had caught cold in the shower of the
previous night, had to be given a rest, and we halted again after a five
hours' march. The cold was intense. Whether owing to the moisture in the
atmosphere, or to some other cause, we had on the evening of the 28th a
really beautiful sunset. The sky was dazzling with brilliant gold and
vermilion tints.

At midnight we were again under way, first across flat, then over
undulating country, after which we got among the mountains and between
precipitous gorges. This was quite a welcome change, but not for the
camels, the way being somewhat rough and stony.

We had some little difficulty in going up the steep pass, 7,200 feet, the
camels panting terribly. We suffered from the cold and the heavy dew
which positively drenched men, camels, and baggage. It was quite as bad
as having been out in the rain, we were so soaked. I, unfortunately,
became ill again, fever attacking me afresh more fiercely than ever;
Sadek, too, and Abbas Ali, the camel man, were also taken very sick.

On the other side of the pass we went through a steep, narrow, and most
fantastically picturesque defile of rocks, and eventually passed the
little hamlet of Golandeh which boasts of no less than half-a-dozen mud
huts and as many fruit trees.

W