The Hidden Treasure

" Three soldiers and a sergeant," he replied, " is the very
least we can consider adequate to do you honour."

We shook hands with friendly feelings, bearing no malice.
I turned from the splendours of rny escort to my own humble
mule, fastened by a woollen halter to the hand of a thin-
faced Lur muleteer who had been commandeered by
authority at a price which left him very dejected. Shah
Riza, already enthroned on his pack-saddle, destroyed any
military air our cortege might have hoped to present. The
Ajuzan accompanied us to the outskirts of the town. There
he mounted his own handsome charger and watched us
depart, a pained amusement visible on his countenance.

The Way to Man Mi
The new motor road to Kermenshah takes off from
Husainabad with a great sweep to the left through the plain
of Arkwazi (distinct from the Arkwaz of our coming).
But we went by a short and hilly track near the centre of the
circle of which Manisht Kuh is the pivot. It led up and
down over shaly spurs of detritus, white and grey in colour,
and so steep as to be impossible in wet weather. Oak
trees were scattered thinly, hiding shepherd lads who cut
the branches and threw them down to their waiting sheep
below. As we negotiated one little spur after another, our
horses on the descents almost slid down into the small
valleys, using their hind legs as brakes.
By dint of constant epithets and the use of a stick from
behind, my mule kept up with the escort, who rode one ahead
and three behind me. But Shah Riza, unprepared for this
rapid travel, dropped out of sight in no time. We did not
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