The Hidden Treasure
I was beginning to wonder if we would ever get off at all,
when a young man appeared and cast a spare and quite
presentable pair of trousers down on the ground before us.
Even now the matter threatened shipwreck. The Philoso-
pher was feeling the proffered object between finger and thumb
and murmuring something about its insufficient beauty.
But I had had enough of him and his clothes for the moment.
I got up from the seclusion of the best carpet on which I sat,
and advanced into the tribal circle, stooped over to examine
the garment with care, and declared that I had never seen a
better pair, nor one more suitable for Persian travel. The
young man's supporters agreed in chorus. A Pahlevi hat
was found and placed on the Philosopher's head, giving him
an air of unsuitable levity. With a sigh he stood up, pulled
a piece of stick out of the roof, wound a pink cord round it,
and began to run it like a bodkin through the waist of his new
costume. The passport alone remained to be settled.
How that was done I do not know. He and the smuggler
went off together and returned after many hours, having
bargained it down from twenty tomans to two (about 45.).
It was written on yellow paper, with five stamps, and appeared
altogether an impressive document. The afternoon was late,
and questions in any case are rarely advisable. We departed
without more ado, and with die last sunlight upon us made
through low scrub for the custom house.
Here we met the Chief of Customs taking the air, with a
puppy on a long chain in his arms and his wife beside him.
He was a pleasant, elderly man with pince-nez, and an air
of settled comfort about him which looked strangely out of
place in so lonely and windswept a spot.
" He is a great man. You had better get off the mule
before you come up to him," said Alidad, and evidently
expected remonstrance when I rode on unconcerned. But
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