e go on. We might
almost say that the country is becoming quite mountainous, with a few
shrubs here and there and scenery of moderate beauty, (for any one
accustomed to greater mountains), but quite "wildly beautiful" for the
ordinary traveller. We then get to the region of the grey olive groves,
the trees with their contorted, thickly-set branches and pointed leaves.
What becomes of the olives? They are exported to Europe,--a flourishing
trade, I am told.

One bumps a great deal in the carriage, for the springs are not "of the
best," and are hidden in rope bandages to keep them from falling apart.
The road, too, is not as yet like a billiard table. The doors of the
landau rattle continuously, the metal fastenings having long disappeared,
and being replaced by bits of string.

One travels incessantly, baked in the sun by day and chilled by the cold
winds at night, trying to get a little sleep with one's head dangling
over the side of the carriage, one's legs cramped, and all one's bones
aching. But this is preferable to stopping at any of the halting-places
on the road, whether Russian or Persian, which are filthy beyond words,
and where one is mercilessly swindled. Should one, however, be compelled
to stop anywhere it is preferable to go to a thoroughly Persian place,
where one meets at least with more courtesy, and where one is imposed
upon in a more modest and less aggressive way than at the Russian places.
It must, however, be stated that the Russian places are usually in charge
of over-zealous Persians, or else in the hands of inferior Russian
subjects, who try to make all they can out of their exile in the lonely
stations.

I occasionally halted for a glass of tea at the Persian Khafe-Khanas, and
in one of them a very amusing incident happened, showing the serious
effects that hallucination may produce on a weak-minded person.

I had got off the carriage and had carried into the khafe-khana my
camera, and also my revolver in its leather case which had been lying on
the seat of the carriage. At my previous halt, having neglected this
precaution, my camera had been tampered with by the natives, the lenses
had been removed, and the eighteen plates most of them already with
pictures on them--that were inside, exposed to the light and thrown
about, with their slides, in the sand. So to avoid a repetition of the
occurrence, and to prevent a probable accident, I brought all into the
khafe-khana room and deposited the