are, of course, a rascally lot. The horses at this place were such wretched scarcrows that we refused to take them, and decided to push on with our Nishapûr horses another twenty miles to Fakridood, where we knew General MacLean had sent his own horses to meet us. Our road took us past many villages, some in the plain on our right, others perched on offshoots of the mountains upon the left, and at three o'clock we reached the huge, draughty caravanserai of Fakridood, where we found three good riding horses, as well as an excellent lunch, prepared by General MacLean's servants.
After doing ample justice to all the good things spread before us, we started for a twelve-mile ride to Shurifabad, the last post-house at which we should sleep before reaching Meshed. A cold east wind was blowing, which seemed to threaten snow,but we were fortunately spared any further wettings. The road was uninteresting, skirting the mountain range, until the plain and village of Shurifabad is reached, where there is a strip of cultivation and a good supply of water. The chapar khaneh had been carefully swept out and a fire lighted by General
