The Assassins" Castle of Lamiasar
enfolding mountains, high but far apart, sank into lower and
bluer distances in the west.
It is a beautiful valley, rich and open and remote, the ancient
kingdom of the Daylamites, who held Rudbar as a fortress
and hence descended on the townsmen of Qazvin. It now
grows cotton and rice, castor oil, tobacco, and much fruit and
vegetables. There is no road worth speaking of. As we rode
on again in the afternoon I had to dismount for long stretches
where the track, clinging to red cliffs steep to the river, and
nearly washed away, was almost too narrow for the mules'
feet. Then we would climb down to the water level, cross
the estuary of some tributary from the north, and go for a
long stretch through rice-fields or flat stony waste ground
flooded in spring.
Far ahead of us we saw Shahristan Bala, the capital of the
district, though only a large village in groves of walnut trees.
It seemed to get no nearer as the hours passed, and I began to
have difficulties with Ismail, who was tired and furious at
being made to come into this hot unhealthy country. Near
seven o'clock, in the sunset, we reached die Imamzadeh to
Muhammad, one of the sons of Musa of Kadhimain. It stood
on a river cliff with cornfields and half a dozen houses round it;
and we decided to stay for the night, and take such hospitality
as we could find.
The litde Imamzadeh was whitewashed, and held a wide view
from its flat headland. It had seats all round it made out of
carved tombstones a century or two old, laid on mud ledges.
As I sat there taking bearings a black scorpion came crawling
from under one of them and walked off with malevolent
dignity.
Through my glasses I could examine the ruins of Lamiasar,
now clearly visible on a truncated hill to the north and at about
one and a half hours' distance. The people knew the way
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