A Fortnight in N.W. Lurlstan
Persian officers in baggy trousers leaning on small cannon with
field-glasses in their hands—the Victorian Age in Luristan, in fact,
but with the sadness of decay about it all. Down below, in a
half-circle round a melancholy table, sat the Governor and a
dozen visitors or so. It was a silent gathering: the Governor
was busy reading petitions, and only asked a question or two
between one document and the next: he enquired if I could
take his photograph: after another interval he got up, went
to the side of the room, and stood diere while two valets
changed him into a pair of very elegant trousers: we all
continued to sit in silence, our eyes fixed delicately either upon
the floor or the ceiling. When the operation was completed,
and a suitable coat had been added to the other garments,
the Governor returned. With a noticeable increase of cheer-
fulness he informed me that he was ready for his picture,
and we all removed to the courtyard, where I took him in
an official attitude beside his fountain.
The second day of my stay was pleasant but uneventful.
We walked a mile or two northwards to the site of die
vanished city which must have been the Alishtar mentioned
by the fourteenth-century geographer MustawfiL No build-
ings remain, but there are many of the stone tombstones which
we had seen before, and shards of thirteenth to fifteenth
century earthenware strewn about. All the people here
spoke of an old minaret which seems to have resembled the
one at Saveh, a round brick tower ornamented with raised
scrolls and geometric patterns: the government troops levelled
it to the ground three years ago when they feared a rising of
the Lurs. Of the more ancient graves, for which Luristan
is chiefly interesting, there was no trace so far east as Alishtar;
they were to be found, I was told, in Dilfan.
My idea was to travel ostensibly westward to Harsin, but
in reality to make a detour and look at these graves in Dilfan
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