126 JOURNEYS IN PERSIA LETTER xxi
BURUJIRD, Aug. 16.
A WEEK has glided away since I sent my last diary letter,
with only two events of direct personal interest, one being
that I have bought a young, powerful little Bakhtiari
horse, which has been in camp since we left the Karun
river, a dark bay, with black points, big feet, a big ugly
head, and big flopping ears, but otherwise passably good-
looking, an unsuspicious animal, brought up in tent life,
with children rolling about among his feet, and as yet
quite ignorant that man can be anything but his friend.
I intend to look after his well-being, but not to make a
pet of him.
The other event occurred on the morning after our
arrival, and took the place of the " boot and saddle " call,
for I was awakened very early by a hubbub round my
tent, the interpretation of which was that a packing case
in three compartments, containing my cooking utensils,
remaining table equipments, and stores, had been carried
off before daylight, deposited in an adjacent plantation,
broken open, and emptied. Thus I was left with
nothing, and have been unable to get anything in the
bazars here except two cooking pots and a tin teapot of
unique construction made to order. The few other things
which I still regard as absolute necessaries, a cup, plate,
knife, fork, and spoon, have been lent me by the Agha.
All my tea is gone, the worst loss of all.