infidel anna came not amiss,—while others had for sale furs, rugs, and bits of soft jade or heavily-veined turquoise. Not this side of Samarkand had I expected to see men with rugs piled on their heads and shoulders, throwing them down at sight of a possible customer, and displaying there on the dusty ground what treasures or trash they possessed. Men with bales of furs and poshtins, or sheepskin coats, for sale, paraded the bazaars or lounged by gates and bridges. One scowling giant had for sale a dead peacock, a sacred Hindu bird, another showed a leopard-skin; and there were blue-eyed, woolly Persian cats on view, whose dispositions had been so crossed somewhere in transit that they would only spit, glare, and claw at any possible purchasers who ventured near.
The jewelers' dens had their gossiping groups, and the leisurely jewel merchants produced bags, tins, and bottles of seventh-rate pearls and talisman turquoises, cemented on sticks, all quoted at soaring prices. A woman in a gaily-embroidered red and yellow phulkari or Afghan head-sheet, who sat watching the hammering of a bracelet, was a moving exhibit of jewels, that furnished a feast to the eye when combined with her own beauty. But we were plainly no feast to her scornful eyes, and, after a critical inventory of our dusty traveling attire, her glances and shrugs sufficiently translated her remarks to the merchant of high prices and doubtful gems.
Even to that far end of the Indian Empire, the tout dogged one's steps with his monotonous plead-
