The pass of Kalau
Shepherds from the Jungle
On the pass we sat and enjoyed the rewards of our toil, the
mules especially, whose packs were laid upon the ground.
'Aziz and The Refuge had long ago resigned themselves to my
love for passes, places which they look upon as unreasonable,
waterless, windswept, unprovided with fodder for animals, and
unkind to human beings. They knew, however, that argu-
ment was useless, and settled to sleep in the shelter of the packs
as best they could, while I struggled with the imaginations of
my map and, reality spread for comparison before me, tried
to spot out a route for my return.
The map (Survey of India, four miles to the inch) left much
to be desired. The Sardab Rud valley and Hazarchal Pass
were marked in a dotted red line; so was the Salambar and Seh
Hizar. But between these two parallels why was Takht-i-
Suleiman, the highest object west of Demavend, left out
entirely? The only mountains marked were in the wrong
place, and after trying over and over again to induce my
compass to bring them into harmony, I came sadly to the
conclusion that the Indian Survey had filled this bit of country
in by hearsay—a melancholy fact, since it made me uncertain
of my triangulation points at starting.
Where, too, was the blue dotted river which, said the map,
flowed eastward into the Sardab Rud? There was no visible
place for it in the landscape, and the shikari denied its existence
positively. I had hoped to introduce the name of this river
into the world of geography, so that it was extremely annoying
to find it non-existent.
The wind felt as I did about my map and nearly buffeted
it to pieces. It shook even the steady nerves of the compass
and caused the Abney level to behave lake a lunatic. How
different from the sheltered peace of Mr. Reeves's study in
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