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ON  A  glCYCLE 


ROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN 


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JM 


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Jf^ 


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3tl;ata,  Hew  ^arh 


CHARLES  WILLIAM  WASON 
COLLECTION 

CHINA  AND  THE  CHINESE 


THE   GIFT  OF 

CHARLES  WILLIAM  WASON 

CLASS  OF  1876 

1918 


Cornell  University 
Library 


The  original  of  this  book  is  in 
the  Cornell  University  Library. 

There  are  no  known  copyright  restrictions  in 
the  United  States  on  the  use  of  the  text. 


http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924023253093 


Cornell  University  Library 
G  440.S84 
^Around  the  world  on  a  bicvd^^^ 


3   1924  023  253  093 


FROM  SAK  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN 


LONDON  : 
GILBERT  AND   RIVINGTON,    LIMITED, 

ST.  John's  house,  clerkenwell  road,  e.c. 


ABOUND   ^IHE    WOELD 
ON  A  BICYCLE 


BY 

THOMAS  STEVENS 


FEOM  SAN  FEANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN 


WITH   OVER   ONE   HUNDRED   ILLUSTRATIONS 


EonWon 

SAMPSON  LOW,  MAESTOX,  SEAELE,  AND  EIVINGTON 

CROWN  BDILDINGS,  188,  FLEET  STREET 

1887 

[^AU  rights  reserved'] 

(^  K' I  y  I  U  f;  (  T  r 


COLONEL   ALBERT   A.  POPE, 

OF  BOSTON,   MASSACHUSETTS, 

"WHOSE  LIBEEAL   SPIBIT  OF  ENTEKPEISE,   AMD  GENEEOUS  CONFIDENCE  IN  THE  INTEGRITY  AND 

ABILITY  OF  THE  ATJTHOH.   MADE  THE  TOTJB 

AEOimD   THE   WORLD    ON   A   BICYCLE 

POSSIBLE,   BY  UNSTINTED  FINANCIAL  PATRONAGE,   IS  THIS  VOLUME 
RESFECTFULLY  DEDICATED. 


PREFACE. 


Shaxespeaee  says,  in  AWs  Wdl  that  Ends  Well,  that  "  a 
good  traveller  is  something  at  the  latter  end  of  a  dinner ; "  and 
I  never  was  more  struck  with  the  truth  of  this  than  when  I 
heard  Mr.  Thomas  Stevens,  after  the  dinner  given  in  his 
honor  by  the  Massachusetts  Bicycle  Club,  make  a  brief,  off- 
hand report  of  his  adventures.  He  seemed  like  Jules  Verne, 
telling  his  own  wonderful  performances,  or  like  a  contemporary 
Sinbad  the  Sailor.  We  found  that  modern  mechanical  inven- 
tion, instead  of  disenchanting  the  universe,  had  really  afforded 
the  means  of  exploring  its  marvels  the  more  surely.  Instead 
of  going  round  the  world  with  a  rifle,  for  the  purpose  of  kill- 
ing something, — or  with  a  bundle  of  tracts,  in  order  to  convert 
somebody, — this  bold  youth  simply  went  round  the  globe  to  see 
the  people  who  were  on  it ;  and  since  he  always  had  something 
to  show  them  as  interesting  as  anything  that  they  could  show 
him,  he  made  his  way  among  all  nations. 

What  he  had  to  show  them  was  not  merely  a  man  perched 
on  a  lofty  wheel,  as  if  riding  on  a  soap-bubble ;  but  he  was 
also  a  perpetual  object-lesson  in  what  Holmes  calls  "  genuine, 
solid  old  Teutonic  pluck."  When  the  soldier  rides  into  danger 
he  has  comrades  by  his  side,  his  country's  cause  to  defend,  his 
uniform  to  vindicate,  and  the  bugle  to  cheer  him  on ;  but  this 
solitary  rider  had  neither  military  station,  nor  an  oath  of  alle- 
giance, nor  comrades,  nor  bugle ;  and  he  went  among  men  of 


Vill  PREFACE. 

unknown  languages,  alien  habits  and  hostile  faith  with  only 
his  own  tact  and  courage  to  help  him  through.  They  proved 
sufficient,  for  he  returned  alive. 

I  have  only  read  specimen  chapters  of  this  book,  but  find  in 
them  the  same  simple  and  manly  quality  which  attracted  us  all 
when  Mr.  Stevens  told  his  story  in  person.  It  is  pleasant  to 
know  that  while  peace  reigns  in  America,  a  young  man  can 
always  find  an  opportunity  to  take  his  life  in  his  hand  and  orig.^ 
inate  some  exploit  as  good  as  those  of  the  much-wandering 
Ulysses.  In  the  German  story  "  Titan,"  Jean  Paul  describes  a 
manly  youth  who  "  longed  for  an  adventure  for  his  idle  brav- 
ery ; "  and  it  is  pleasant  to  read  the  narrative  of  one  who  has 
quietly  gone  to  work,  in  an  honest  way,  to  satisfy  this  longing. 

Thomas  Wentwokth  Higginson. 
Cambeidge,  Mass.  ,  April  10,  1887. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

Over  the  Siereas  Nevadas, 1 


CHAPTER  II. 
OvEK  THE  Deserts  of  Nevada,         .        , 31 

CHAPTER  III. 
Through  Mormon-Land  and  over  the  Rookies,    ....      46 

CHAPTER  IV. 
From  the  Great  Plains  to  the  Atlantic,     •        ....      70 

CHAPTER  V. 
From  America  to  the  German  Frontier, 91 

CHAPTER  VI. 
Germany,  Austria,  and  Hungary, 131 

CHAPTER  VII. 
Through  Slavonia  and  Servla, 153 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

BULGARLl,    ROUMELIA,    AND   INTO   TURKEY, 184 


X  CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  rX. 

PAGE 

Through  European  Turkey, 315 


CHAPTER  X 
The  Start  through  Asia, 251 

CHAPTER  XL 
On  through  Asia, 263 

CHAPTER  XU. 
Through  the  Angora  Goat  Country, 279 

CHAPTER  Xni. 
Bey  Bazaar,  Angora,  and  Eastward, 307 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Across  the  Kizil  Irmatc  Riter  to  Tuzgat, 338 

CHAPTER  XV. 
From  the  Koordish  Camp  to  Yuzqat, 351 

CHAPTER  XVL 
Through  the  Sivas  Vilayet  into  Armenia, 368 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
Through  Erzingan  and  Erzeroum, 397 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
Mount  Ararat  and  Koordistan,       ....  .  430 


CONTENTS.  XI 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PAGE 

Persia  and  the  Tabreez  Caravan  Trail, 455 


CHAPTER  XX. 
Tabreez  to  Teheran, 486 

CHAPTER  XXL 
Teheran, ,        .        .    517 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

PoKTKAiT  OF  THOMAS  STEVENS Frontispiece. 

The  Stabt, 3 

The  BuBNiifG  Tuiles 5 

Crossing  the  Sibrea  Nbvadas, 14 

In  the  Central  Pacific  Snow-sheds, 18 

The  "Forty-Mile  Desert,"       ...               ....  26 

The  Piute's  Header, .        .  32 

Ugh  !  What  Is  It  ? 35 

Bncoctnter  wtth  a  Mountain  Lion, 41 

A  Stampede  of  Wild  Mustangs, 49 

A  Fair  Young  Mormon 53 

A  Tough  Bit  of  Country, 58 

Fishing  Out  My  Clothes, 67 

The  First  Homestead 71 

Geemaity  Transplanted, 77 

Jumbo  Comes  Out  to  Meet  Me, 81 

Amenities  of  the  Brie  Tow-path,                87 

The  Starley  Memorial,  Coventry, 98 

Resting  in  an  English  Village, 99 


XIV  LIST  OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

The  Dieppe  Milkman, 103 

The  Champs  Eltseb  at  10  p.m., Ill 

A  Glimpse  of  Medieval  France, 115 

Borrowed  Plumage 135 

Whitsuntide  in  Bavaria, 132 

The  Barber  op  M(3lk, 140 

Charming  Presburg, 143 

The  Slavonian  Shepherds, 157 

A  Belle  of  the  Balkans, 175 

Sunday  at  Bela  Palanka 177 

The  Zaribrod  Passport  Office, ,        ,  181 

Meeting  the  "Bulgarian  Express," 191 

Turkish  Amenities,      .                .  300 

On  the  Minaret  with  the  Muezzin,                     .                .        .  310 

"  Are  You  an  English  Baron  ? "      .               .                ...  213 

"  And  Makes  a  Grab  for  Mt  Revolver," 318 

Almost  Pursuaded  to  be  a  Christian, 226 

"Play  'Yankee  Doodle,'"  said  the  Pasha,       ....  230 

Constantinople  Fire  Laddies,  .        .                .        «        .        .        .  233 

Prinkipo  the  Beautiful,         .        .                345 

Bicycle  Tent,        ...                247 

A  Notice  of  My  Journey  in  the  Sultan's  Official  Organ,    .  249 

Osmanli  Pilgrims, 354 

My  Bill  of  Fare, 359 

Greeks  Enjoying  Themselves, 36i 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIOJS^S.  XV 

A  Circassian  Refugee,    .                264 

Sabanjans  Wobrting  Me  to  Ride, 267 

Down  the  Sakaria, .-      ...  271 

Lively  Times, 285 

A  Faithful  Guardian .  291 

The  Byways  op  Asia  Minor, 297 

Early  Morning  Callers, 299 

A  Quarry  of  Startled  Dears, 303 

Serenaded  by  Turkish  Dandies, 313 

Racing  with  the  Zaptibh, 819 

Angora  Water- works 323 

Genuine  Bkmek, 332 

The  Unspeakable  Oriental, 834 

A  Sketch  on  the  Kizil  Irmak, 339 

Grapes  and  Grace, 343 

Camping  Out, 345 

The  Contemplative  Young  Man ,        .  354 

My  Xuzgat  Audience, 365 

An  Armenian  Family  Reunion, 369 

Slightly  Armed,  . 370 

A  Harem  Beauty, 382 

The  Vali  on  Floor  with  Map 383 

Armenian  Hospitality,    , 387 

At  Kikkor-agha  Vartarian's, 388 

Apprehensive  of  Danger, 391 


XVI  LIST  OP  tLLTJSTBATIONS. 

PAGE 

The  Armenian  Egg-spoon, 398 

The  Native  Idea  of  Butteb, 403 

"Stand  and  Deliver  J" 404 

The  Pasha  -was  Plating  Chess, 408 

"A  Russian,  AM  I?" 412 

Wantonly  Assaulted, 422 

"Undisturbed"  Eepose, 423 

A  Suspicious  Offer  of  Protection, 425 

Well  Guarded  at  Lunch,          i        .                       ....  438 

The  Persistent  Son  is  Shoved  into  the  Water,       .        .        .  441 

EiDiNG  fob  the  Pasha  Khan's  Ladies 443 

An  Evbry-dat  Occurrence,     .                446 

Politeness  in  a  Koobdish  Tent, 447 

Explaining  England's  Friendly  Offices 450 

KooRDisH  Highwaymen, 453 

"  Limp  as  a  Dish-rag,"    ^ .        ,  457 

Doing  the  Agreeable 459 

Taking  a  Drink, 403 

The  Patriotic  Moonshi-Bashi, 4(55 

A  Yankee  Artist's  Idea  of  Dervishes, 4g7 

Hassan  Khan  Takes  a  Lesson, 47q 

The  Maitah-jee  Surprised, 47g 

The  Khan-jee  Escapes  through  the  Window 477 

"Take  the  Horse  and  Leave  the  Bicycle,"     ....  479 

Persian  Katik-jees  Differ,       .        .        .        .       ^      .        .        .  434 


LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS.  Xvii 

PAGE 

They  Swoop  Down  on  Mb  from  the  Reae 487 

The  Valiat  Gives  Me  a  Race, 489 

Like  a  CoKYPHfeE  with  Hand  Aloft, 495 

The  Bridgbless  Streams  op  Asia,            498 

Midnight  Intruders, 500 

Firing  over  their  Heads, 505 

Passing  a  Camei,  Caravan .  507 

Persian  "  Lutis,"  or  Buffoons,        ....                .        .  509 

Entering  the  Teheran  Gate, 516 

The  Shah's  Foot-runners, 519 

Soldiers  Clearing  my  Road, 623 

The  Shah  Escorts  Mb  to  Dohan  Tepe, 525 

The  Shah  shows  Mb  his  Menagerie, 537 

The  Naib-i-Sultan  Smiles  Approvingly, 531 

The  Old  Pomegranate  Vender  Wants  Me  to  Give  Chase,     .  537 

Ayoob  Khan  and  His  Attendant, 545 


FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


CHAPTEE  I. 

OVER  THE  SIEREAS  NEVADAS. 


The  beauties  of  nature  are  scattered  with  a  more  lavish  hand 
across  the  country  lying  between  the  summit  of  the  Sierra  Nevada 
Mountains  and  the  shores  where  the  surf  romps  and  rolls  over  the 
auriferous  sands  of  the  Pacific,  in  Golden  Gate  Park,  than  in  a 
journey  of  the  same  length  in  any  other  part  of  the  world. 

Such,  at  least,  is  the  verdict  of  many  whose  fortune  it  has  been 
to  traverse  that  favored  stretch  of  country.  Nothing  but  the  lim- 
ited power  of  man's  eyes  prevents  him  from  standing  on  the  top  of 
the  mountains  and  surveying,  at  a  glance,  the  whole  glorious  pan- 
orama that  stretches  away  for  more  than  two  hundred  miles  to 
the  west,  terminating  in  the  gleaming  waters  of  the  Pacific  Ocean. 
Could  he  do  this,  he  would  behold,  for  the  first  seventy-five  or 
eighty  miles,  a  vast,  billowy  sea  of  foot-hUls,  clothed  with  forests 
of  sombre  pine  and  bright,  evergreen  oaks ;  and,  lower  down, 
dense  patches  of  white-blossomed  chaparral,  looking  in  the  en- 
chanted distance  like  irregular  banks  of  snow.  Then  the  world- 
renowned  valley  of  the  Sacramento  Eiver,  with  its  level  plains  of 
dark,  rich  soil,  its  matchless  fields  of  ripening  grain,  traversed  here 
and  there  by  streams  that,  emerging  from  the  shadowy  depths  of 
the  foot-hUIs,  wind  their  way,  like  gleaming  threads  of  silver, 
across  the  fertile  plain  and  join  the  Sacramento,  which  receives 
them,  one  and  all,  in  her  matronly  bosom  and  hurries  with  them 
on  to  the  sea. 

Towns  and  villages,  with  white  church-spires,  irregularly  sprin- 
kled over  hill  and  vale,  as  though  sown  like  seeds  from  the  giant 


2  FKOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIEUAN. 

hand  of  a  mighty  Imsbanclman,  would  be  seen  nestling  snugly 
amid  groves  of  waving  shade  and  semi-tropical  fniit  trees.  Beyond 
all  this  the  lower  coast-range,  where,  toward  San  Francisco,  Mount 
Diablo  and  Mount  Tamalpais — grim  sentinels  of  the  Golden  Gate 
— rear  their  shaggy  heads  skyward,  and  seem  to  look  down  with 
a  patronizing  air  upon  the  less  pretentious  hills  that  border  the 
coast  and  reflect  their  shadows  in  the  blue  water  of  San  Fran- 
cisco Bay.  Upon  the  sloping  sides  of  these  hills  sweet,  nutritious 
grasses  grow,  upon  which  peacefully  graze  the  cows  that  supply 
San  Francisco  with  mUk  and  butter. 

Various  attempts  have  been  made  from  time  to  time,  by  am- 
bitious cj'clers,  to  wheel  across  America  from  ocean  to  ocean  ;  but 
— "  Around  the  World  1 " 

"  The  impracticable  scheme  of  a  visionary,"  was  the  most  chari- 
table verdict  one  could  reasonably  have  expected. 

The  first  essential  element  of  success,  however,  is  to  have  suf- 
ficient confidence  in  one's  self  to  brave  the  criticisms — ^to  say  noth- 
ing of  the  witticisms — of  a  sceptical  public.  So  eight  o'clock  on 
the  morning  of  April  22,  1884,  finds  me  and  my  fifty-inch  machine 
on  the  deck  of  the  Alameda,  one  of  the  splendid  ferry-boats  plying 
between  San  Francisco  and  Oakland,  and  a  ride  of  four  miles 
over  the  sparkling  waters  of  the  bay  lands  us,  twenty-eight  ruin- 
utes  later,  on  the  Oakland  jiier,  that  juts  far  enough  out  to  allow 
the  big  ferries  to  enter  the  slip  in  deep  water.  On  the  beauties 
of  San  Francisco  B.iy  it  is,  perhaps,  needless  to  dwell,  as  every- 
body has  heard  or  read  of  this  magnificent  sheet  of  water,  its  sur- 
face flecked  with  snowy  sails,  and  surrounded  by  a  beautiful 
framework  of  evergreen  hills ;  its  only  outlet  to  the  ocean  the  fa- 
mous Golden  Gate — a  narrow  channel  through  which  come  and 
go  the  ships  of  all  nations. 

With  the  hearty  well-wishing  of  a  small  grou]D  of  Oakland  and 
'Frisco  cyclers  who  have  come,  out  of  cm-iosity,  to  see  the  start,  I 
mount  and  ride  away  to  the  east,  down  San  Pablo  Avenue,  toward 
the  village  of  the  same  Spanish  name,  some  sixteen  miles  distant. 
Tlie  first  seven  miles  are  a  sort  of  half-macadamized  road,  and  I 
bowl  briskly  along. 

The  past  winter  has  been  the  rainiest  since  1857,  and  the  con- 
tinuous pelting  rains  had  not  beaten  down  upon  the  last  half  of 
this  imperfect  macadam  in  vain ;  for  it  has  left  it  a  surface  of 
wave-like   undulations,  from  out  of  which  the  frequent  bowlder 


OVER  THE  SIERRAS   NEVADAS. 


3 


protrudes  its  unwelcome  head,  as  if  ambitiously  striving  to  soar 
above  its  lowly  surroundings.  But  this  one  don't  mind,  and  I  am 
perfectly  willing  to  put  up  with  the  bowlders  for  the  sake  of 
the  undulations.  The  sensation  of  riding  a  small  boat  over  "  the 
gently-heaving  waves  of  the  murmuring  sea  "  is,  I  think,  one  of  the 
pleasures  of  life  ;  and  the  nest  thing  to  it  is  riding  a  bicycle  over 


The   Start. 


the  last  three  miles  of  the  San  Pablo  Avenue  macadam  as  I  found 
it  on  that  AprU  morning. 

The  wave-like  macadam  abruptly  terminates,  and  I  find  myself 
on  a  common  dirt  road.  It  is  a  fair  road,  however,  and  I  have 
plenty  of  time  to  look  about  and  admire  whatever  bits  of  scenery 
happen  to  come  in  view.  There  are  few  spots  in  the  "Golden 
State  "  from  which  views  of  more  or  less  beauty  are  not  to  be  ob- 
tained ;  and  ere  I  am  a  baker's  dozen  of  miles  from  Oakland  pier  I 


Si 
4  FnOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

find  myself  within  an  ace  of  taking  an  undesirable  header  into  a 
ditch  of  water  by  the  road-side,  while  looking  upon  a  scene  that 
for  the  moment  completely  wins  me  from  my  immediate  surround- 
ings. There  is  nothing  particularly  grand  or  imposing  in  the  out- 
look here  ;  but  the  late  rains  have  clothed  the  whole  smiling  face 
of  nature  with  a  bright,  refreshing  green,  that  fails  not  to  awaken 
a  thiill  of  pleasure  in  the  breast  of  one  fresh  from  the  verdureless 
streets  of  a  large  sea-port  city.  Broad  fields  of  pale-green,  thrifty- 
looking  young  wheat,  and  darker-hued  meads,  stretch  away  on 
either  side  of  the  road  ;  and  away  beyond  to  the  left,  through  an 
opening  in  the  hills,  can  be  seen,  as  through  a  window,  the  placid 
waters  of  the  bay,  over  whose  glittering,  sunlit  surface  white- 
winged,  aristocratic  yachts  and  the  plebeian  smacks  of  Greek  and 
Italian  fishermen  swiftly  glide,  and  fairly  vie  with  each  other  in 
giving  the  finishing  touches  to  a  picture. 

So  far,  the  road  continues  level  and  fairly  good  ;  and,  notwith- 
standing the  seductive  pleasures  of  the  ride  over  the  bounding  bil- 
lows of  the  gently  heaving macadam,  the   dalliance  with  the 

scenery,  and  the  all  too  fi-equent  dismounts  in  deference  to  the 
objections  of  phantom-eyed  roadsters,  I  puUed  up  at  San  Pablo 
at  ten  o'clock,  having  covered  the  sixteen  miles  in  one  hour  and 
thii-ty-two  minutes  ;  though,  of  course,  there  is  nothing  speedy 
about  this — to  which  desii-able  qualification,  indeed,  I  lay  no 
claim. 

Soon  after  leaving  San  Pablo  the  country  gets  somewhat 
"  choppy,"  and  the  road  a  succession  of  short-hills,  at  the  bottom 
of  which  modest-looking  mud-holes  patiently  await  an  opportunity 
to  make  one's  acquaintance,  or  scraggy-looking,  latitudinous  wash- 
outs are  awaiting  their  chance  to  commit  a  murder,  or  to  make  the 
unwaiy  cycler  who  should  ventm-e  to  "coast,"  think  he  had 
wheeled  over  the  tail  of  an  eai-thquake.  One  never  minds  a  hiUv 
road  where  one  can  reach  the  bottom  with  an  impetus  that  sends 
him  spinning  half-way  up  the  nest ;  but  where  mud-holes  or  wash- 
outs resolutely  "  hold  the  fort "  in  every  depression,  it  is  different 
and  the  progress  of  the  cycler  is  necessarily  slow. 

I  have  set  upon  reaching  Suisun,  a  point  fifty  mUes  alone  the 
Central  Pacific  EaUway,  to-night ;  but  the  roads  after  leavin"-  San 
Pablo  -are  anything  but  good,  and  the  day  is  warm,  so  six  p  ^r 
finds  me  trudging  along  an  unridable  piece  of  road  throu"h  the 
low  tuile  swamps  that  border  Suisun  Bay.     "  Tuile  "  is  the  name 


ovEi;  THE  siei;i:as  nevadas. 


given  to  a  species  of  tall  raiilc  grass,  or  ratber  rush,  that  grows  to 
the  lieight  of  eight  or  ten  feet,  and  so  thick  in  places  that  it  is  diffi- 


The   Burning  Tuiles. 


cult  to  pass  through,  in  the   low,  swampy  grounds  in  this  part  of 
CaliforDia.     These  tuile  swamps   are  traversed  by  a   net-work  of 


6         FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

small,  sluggish  streams  and  sloughs,  that  fairly  swarm  with  wild 
ducks  and  geese,  and  justly  entitle  them  to  their  local  title  of  "the 
duck-hunters'  paradise."  Ere  I  am  through  this  swamp,  the  shades 
of  night  gather  ominously  around  and  settle  down  like  a  pall  over 
the  half-flooded  flats  ;  the  road  is  fuU  of  mud-holes  and  pools  of 
water,  through  which  it  is  difficult  to  navigate,  and  I  am  in  some- 
thing of  a  quandary.  I  am  sweeping  along  at  the  irresistible  ve- 
locity of  a  mile  an  hour,  and  wondering  how  far  it  is  to  the  other 
end  of  the  swampy  road,  when  thrice  welcome  succor  appears  from 
a  strange  and  altogether  unexpected  source.  I  had  noticed  a  small 
fire,  twinkling  through  the  darkness  away  off  in  the  swamp  ;  and 
now  the  wind  rises  and  the  flames  of  the  small  fire  spread  to  the 
thick  patches  of  dead  tuile.  In  a  short  time  the  whole  country,  in- 
cluding my  road,  is  lit  up  by  the  fierce  glare  of  the  blaze  ;  so  that 
I  am  enabled  to  proceed  with  Httle  trouble.  These  tuiles  often  catch 
on  fire  in  the  fall  and  early  winter,  when  everything  is  comparatively 
dry,  and  fairly  rival  the  prairie  fires  of  the  Western  plains  in  the 
fierceness  of  the  flames. 

The  next  morning  I  start  off  in  a  drizzling  rain,  and,  after  going 
sixteen  mUes,  I  have  to  remain  for  the  day  at  Elmira.  Here, 
among  other  items  of  interest,  I  learn  that  twenty  miles  farther 
ahead  the  Sacramento  Kiver  is  flooding  the  country,  and  the  only 
way  I  can  hope  to  get  through  is  to  take  to  the  Central  Pacific  track 
and  cross  over  the  six  mUes  of  open  trestle-work  that  spans  the 
Sacramento  Eiver  and  its  broad  bottom-lands,  that  are  subject  to 
the  annual  spring  overflow.  Prom  Elmira  my  way  leads  through 
a  fruit  and  farming  country  that  is  called  second  to  none  in  the 
world.  Magnificent  farms  line  the  road  ;  at  short  intervals  appear 
large  well-kept  vineyards,  in  which  gangs  of  Chinese  coolies  ai-e 
hoeing  and  pulling  weeds,  and  otherwise  keeping  trim.  A  profu- 
sion of  peach,  pear,  and  almond  orchards  enhvens  the  landscape 
with  a  wealth  of  pink  and  white  blossoms,  and  fills  the  balmy 
spring  air  with  a  subtle,  sensuous  perfume  that  savors  of  a  tropical 
chme. 

Already  I  realize  that  there  is  going  to  be  as  much  "  foot-riding '' 
as  anything  for  the  first  part  of  my  journey  ;  so,  while  haltin"-  for 
dinner  at  the  village  of  Davisville,  I  deliver  my  rather  sli"-ht  shoes 
over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  an  Irish  cobbler  of  the  old  school 
with  carte  blanche  instructions  to  fit  them  out  for  hard  service 
While  diligently  hammering  away  at  the  shoes,  the  old  cobbler 


OVER  THE  SIERRAS  NEVADAS.  7 

grows  communic£ltive,  and  in  almost  unintelligible  brogue  tells  ii 
complicated  tale  of  Irish  Ufe,  out  of  which  I  can  make  neither  head, 
tail,  nor  tale  ;  though  nodding  and  assenting  to  it  all,  to  the  great 
satisfaction  of  the  loquacious  manipulator  of  the  last,  who  in  au 
hour  hands  over  the  shoes  with  the  proud  assertion,  "  They'll  last 
yez,  be  jabbers,  to  Omaha." 

Reaching  the  overflowed  country,  I  have  to  take  to  the  trestle- 
work  and  begirt  the  tedious  process  of  trundhng  along  that  aggra- 
vating roadway,  where,  to  the  music  of  rushing  waters,  I  have  to 
step  from  tie  to  tie,  and  bump,  bump,  bump,  my  machine  along 
for  six  weary  miles.  The  Sacramento  Eiver  is  the  outlet  for  the 
tremendous  volumes  of  water  caused  every  spring  by  the  melting 
snows  on  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains,  and  these  long  stretches  of 
open  trestle  have  been  found  necessary  to  allow  the  water  to  pass 
beneath.  Nothing  but  trains  are  expected  to  cross  this  trestle- 
work,  and  of  course  no  provision  is  made  for  pedestrians.  The  en- 
gineer of  an  approaching  train  sets  his  locomotive  to  tooting  for 
all  she  is  worth  as  he  sees  a  "  strayed  or  stolen  "  cycler,  slowly 
bumping  along  ahead  of  his  train.  But  he  has  no  need  to  slow  uj), 
for  occasional  cross-beams  stick  out  far  enough  to  admit  of  stand- 
ing out  of  reach,  and  when  he  comes  up  alongside,  he  and  the  fire- 
man look  out  of  the  window  of  the  cab  and  see  me  squatting  on 
the  end  of  one  of  these  handy  beams,  and  letting  the  bicycle  hang 
over. 

That  night  I  stay  in  Sacramento,  the  beautiful  capital  of  the 
Golden  State,  whose  well-shaded  streets  and  blooming,  almost 
tropical  gardens  combine  to  form  a  city  of  quiet,  dignified  beauty, 
of  which  Cahfornians  feel  Justly  proud.  Thi-ee  and  a  half  miles 
east  of  Sacramento,  the  high  trestle  bridge  spanning  the  main 
sti-eam  of  the  American  Eiver  has  to  be  crossed,  and  from  this 
bridge  is  obtained  a  remarkably  fine  view  of  the  snow-capped 
Sien-as,  the  great  barrier  that  separates  the  fertile  valleys  and  glori- 
ous climate  of  California,  from  the  bleak  and  barren  sage-brush 
plains,  rugged  mountains,  and  forbidding  wastes  of  sand  and  alkali, 
that,  from  the  summit  of  the  Sien-as,  stretch  away  to  the  eastward 
for  over  a  thousand  miles.  The  view  from  the  American  Eiver 
bridge  is  grand  and  imposing,  encompassing  the  whole  foot-hiU 
country,  which  rolls  in  broken,  irregular  billows  of  forest -crowned 
bill  and  charming  vale,  upward  and  onward  to  the  east,  gradually 
getting  moi-e  rugged,  rocky,  and  immense,  the  hills  changing  to 


8         FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

mountains,  the  vales  to  canons,  until  they  terminate  in  bald,  hoary- 
peaks  whose  white  rugged  pinnacles  seem  to  penetrate  the  sky,  and 
stand  out  in  ghostly,  shadowy  outline  against  the  aziure  depths  of 
space  beyond. 

After  cros^ng  the  American  Eiver  the  character  of  the  country 
changes,  and  I  enjoy  a  ten-mile  ride  over  a  fair  road,  through  one 
of  those  splendid  sheep-ranches  that  are  only  found  in  California, 
and  which  have  long  challenged  the  admiration  of  the  world. 
Sixty  thousand  acres,  I  am  informed,  is  the  extent  of  this  pasture, 
all  within  one  fence.  The  soft,  velvety  greensward  is  half-shaded 
by  the  wide^spreading  branches  of  evergreen  oaks  that  singly  and 
in  small  groups  are  scattered  at  irregular  intervals  from  one  end  of 
the  pasture  to  the  other,  giving  it  the  appearance  of  one  of  the  old 
ancestral  parks  of  England.  As  I  bowl  pleasantly  along  I  invol- 
untarily look  about  me,  half  expecting  to  see  some  grand,  stately 
old  mansion  peeping  from  among  some  one  of  the  splendid  oak- 
groves  ;  and  when  a  Jack-rabbit  hops  out  and  halts  at  twenty  paces 
from  my  road,  I  half  hesitate  to  fire  at  him,  lest  the  noise  of  the 
report  should  bring  out  the  Vigilant  and  lynx-eyed  gamc'keeper, 
and  get  me  "summoned"  for  poaching.  I  remember  the  pleasant 
ten-mile  ride  through  this  park-Uke  pasture  as  one  of  the  brightest 
spots  of  the  whole  journey  across  America.  But  "  every  rose  con- 
ceals a  thorn,"  and  pleasant  paths  often  lead  astray  ;  when  I  emerge 
from  the  pasture  I  find  myself  several  miles  off  the  right  road  and 
have  to  make  my  unhappy  way  across  lots,  through  numberless 
gates  and  small  ranches,  to  the  road  again. 

There  seems  to  be  quite  a  sprinkling  of  Spanish  or  Mexican 
rancheros  through  here,  and  after  partaking  of  the  welcome  noon- 
tide hospitality  of  one  of  the  ranches,  I  find  myself,  before  I  realize 
it,  illustrating  the  bicycle  audits  uses,  to  a  group  of  sombrero-decked 
rancheros  and  darked-eyed  senoritas,  by  riding  the  machine  round 
and  roimd  on  their  own  ranch-lawn.  It  is  a  novel  position,  to  say 
the  least ;  and  often  afterward,  wending  my  solitary  way  across 
some  dreary  Nevada  desert,  with  no  company  but  my  own  un- 
canny shadow,  sharply  outlined  on  the  white  alkali  by  the  glai-in" 
rays  of  the  sun,  my  untrammelled  thoughts  would  wander  back  to 
this  scene,  and  I  would  grow  "hot  and  cold  by  turns,"  in  my 
uncertainty  as  to  whether  the  bewitching  smiles  of  the  senoritas 
were  smiles  of  admiration,  or  whether  they  were  simply  "grin- 
ning "  at  the  figure  I  cut.     While  not  conscious  of  havin"  cut  a 


OVEK  THE  SIEEEAS  NEVADAS.  9 

somer  figure  than  usual  on  that  occasion,  somehow  I  cannot  rid 
myself  of  an  unhappy,  harrowing  suspicion,  that  the  latter  comes 
nearer  the  ti-uth  than  the  former. 

The  gi-ound  is  gradually  getting  more  broken  ;  huge  rocks  in- 
trude themselves  upon  the  landscape.  At  the  town  of  Eocklin  we 
are  supposed  to  enter  the  foot-hill  countiy  proper.  Much  of  the 
road  in  these  lower  foot-hills  is  excellent,  being  of  a  hard,  stony 
character,  and  proof  against  the  winter  rains. 

Everybody  who  writes  anything  about  the  Golden  State  is  ex- 
pected to  say  something  complimentary — or  otherwise,  as  his  ex- 
perience may  seem  to  dictate — about  the  "  glorious  climate  of  Cali- 
fornia ;  "  or  else  render  an  account  of  himself  for  the  slight,  should 
he  ever  return,  which  he  is  very  Uable  to  do.  For,  no  matter  what 
he  may  say  about  it,  the  "  glorious  climate  "  generally  manages  to 
make  one,  ever  after,  somewhat  dissatisfied  with  the  extremes  of 
heat  and  cold  met  with  in  less  genial  regions. 

This  fact  of  having  to  pay  my  measure  of  tribute  to  the  climate 
forces  itself  on  my  notice  prominently  here  at  RockUn,  because,  in- 
directly, the  "climate  "  was  instrumental  in  bringing  about  a  slight 
accident,  which,  in  turn,  brought  about  the — to  me — serious  ca- 
lamity of  sending  me  to  bed  without  any  supper.  Eocklin  is  cele- 
brated— and  by  certain  bad  people,  ridiculed — all  over  this  part  of 
the  foot-hills  for  the  superabundance  of  its  juvenile  population.  If 
one  makes  any  inquisitive  remarks  about  this  fact,  the  Eocklinite 
addressed  wUl  either  blush  or  grin,  according  to  his  temperament, 
and  say,  "It's  the  glorious  climate."  A  bicycle  is  a  decided  novelty 
up  here,  and,  of  course,  the  multitudinous  youth  turn  out  in  droves 
to  see  it.  The  bewildering  swarms  of  these  small  mountaineers 
distract  my  attention  and  cause  me  to  take  a  header  that  tempora- 
rily disables  the  machine.  The  result  is,  that,  in  order  to  reach  the 
village  where  I  wish  to  stay  over  night,  I  have  to  "  foot  it "  over 
four  miles  of  the  best  road  I  have  found  since  leaving  San  Pablo, 
and  lose  my  supper  into  the  bargain,  by  procrastinating  at  the  village 
smithy,  so  as  to  have  my  machine  in  trim,  ready  for  an  eai-ly  start 
next  morning.  If  the  "  glorious  climate  of  California  "  is  respon- 
sible for  the  exceedingly  hopeful  prospects  of  Rocklin's  future  census 
reports,  and  the  said  lively  outlook,  materialized,  is  responsible  for 
my  mishap,  then  plainly  the  said  "  G.  C.  of  C."  is  the  responsible 
element  in  the  case.  I  hope  this  compliment  to  the  climate  will 
strike  the  Californians  as  about  the  correct  thing  ;  but,  if  it  should 


10  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

happen  to  work  the  other  way,  I  beg  of  them  at  once  to  pour  out 
the  vials  of  their  wrath  on  the  heads  of  the  'Frisco  Bicycle  Club, 
in  order  that  their  fury  may  be  spent  ere  I  again  set  foot  on  their 
auriferous  soiL 

"  What'U  you  do  when  you  hit  the  snow  ?  "  is  now  a  frequent 
question  asked  by  the  people  hereabouts,  who  seem  to  be  more  con- 
versant with  affairs  pertaining  to  the  mountains  than  they  are  of 
what  is  going  on  in  the  valleys  below.  This  remark,  of  course,  has 
reference  to  the  deep  snow  that,  toward  the  summits  of  the  moun- 
tains, covers  the  ground  to  the  depth  of  ten  feet  on  the  level,  and 
from  that  to  almost  any  depth  where  it  has  drifted  and  accumulated. 
I  have  not  started  out  on  this  greatest  of  all  bicycle  tours  without 
looking  into  these  difficulties,  and  I  remind  them  that  the  long 
snow-sheds  of  the  Central  Pacific  Eailway  make  it  possible  for  one 
to  cross  over,  no  matter  how  deep  the  snow  may  he  on  the  ground 
outside.  Some  speak  cheerfully  of  the  prospects  for  getting  over, 
but  many  shake  their  heads  ominously  and  say,  "  You'll  never  be 
able  to  make  it  through." 

Rougher  and  more  hilly  become  the  roads  as  we  gradually  pene- 
trate farther  and  farther  into  the  foot-hills.  "We  are  now  in  fai-- 
famed  Placer  County,  and  the  evidences  of  the  hardy  gold  diggers' 
work  in  pioneer  days  are  all  about  us.  In  every  gulch  and  ravine 
are  to  be  seen  broken  and  decaying  sluice-boxes.  Bare,  whitish- 
looking  patches  of  washed-out  gravel  show  where  a  "  claim  "  has 
been  worked  over  and  abandoned.  In  every  direction  are  old 
water-ditches,  heaps  of  gravel,  and  abandoned  shafts — all  telling, 
in  language  more  eloquent  than  word  or  pen,  of  the  palmy  days  of 
'49,  and  succeeding  years ;  when,  in  these  deep  gulches,  and  on 
these  yeUow  hiUs,  thousands  of  bronzed,  red-shu-ted  miners  du"  and 
delved,  and  "  rocked  the  cradle  "  for  the  precious  yellow  dust  and 
nuggets.  But  all  is  now  changed,  and  where  were  hundreds  be- 
fore, now  only  a  few  "  old  timers  "  roam  the  foot-hiUs,  prospecting, 
and  working  over  the  old  claims;  but  "dust,"'  "nugo-ets,"  and 
"  pockets  "  stiU  form  the  burden  of  conversation  in  the  villa"e  bar- 
room or  the  cross-roads  saloon.  Now  and  then  a  "  strike  "  is  made 
by  some  lucky — or  perhaps  it  turns  out,  unlucky — prospector. 
This  for  a  few  days  kindles  anew  the  slumbering  spark  of  "  gold 
fever  "  that  lingers  in  the  veins  of  the  people  here,  ever  ready  to 
kindle  into  a  flame  at  every  bit  of  exciting  news,  in  the  way  of  a 
lucky  "  find  "  near  home,  or  new  gold-fields  in  some  distant  land. 


OVER  THE  SIBRBAS   NEVADAS.  11 

These  occasions  never  fail  to  bave  their  legitimate  effect  upon  the 
business  of  the  bar  where  the  "  old-timers  "  congregate  to  learii  the 
news  ;  and,  between  drinks,  yarns  of  the  good  old  days  of  '49  and 
'50,  of  "  streaks  of  luck,"  of  "  big  nuggets,"  and  "  wild  times,"  are 
spun  over  and  over  again.  Although  the  palmy  days  of  the 
"diggin's"  are  iio  more,  yet  the  finder  of  a  "pocket"  these  days 
seems  not  a  whit  wiser  than  in  the  days  when  "  pockets  "  more  fre- 
quently rewarded  the  patient  prospector  than  they  do  now  ;  and  at 
Newcastle — a  station  near  the  old-time  mining  camps  of  Ophir  and 
Gold  Hill — I  hear  of  a  man  who  lately  struck  a  "  pocket,"  out  of 
which  he  dug  forty  thousand  dollars  ;  and  forthwith  proceeded  to 
imitate  his  reckless  predecessors  by  going  down  to  'Frisco  and  en- 
tering upon  a  career  of  protracted  sprees  and  debauchery  that  cut 
short  his  earthly  career  in  less  than  six  months,  and  wafted  his 
riotous  spirit  to  where  there  are  no  more  forty  thousand  dollar 
pockets,  and  no  more  'Priscos  in  which  to  squander  it. 

In  this  instance  the  "  find  "  was  clearly  an  unlucky  one.  Not 
quite  so  bad  was  the  case  of  two  others  who,  but  a  few  days  before 
my  arrival,  took  out  twelve  hundred  dollars  ;  they  simply,  in  the 
language  of  the  goldfields  "  turned  themselves  loose,"  "  made  things 
hum,"  and  "  whooped  'em  up  "  around  the  bar-room  of  their  village 
for  exactly  three  days  ;  when,  "  dead  broke,"  they  took  to  the 
gulches  again,  to  search  for  more.  "Yer  oughter  hev  happened 
through  here  with  that  instrumint  of  yourn  about  that  time,  young 
fellow  ;  yer  might  hev  kept  as  full  as  a  tick  till  they  war  busted," 
remarked  a  slouchy-looking  old  fellow  whose  purple-tinted  nose 
plainly  indicated  that  he  had  devoted  a  good  part  of  his  existence 
to  the  business  of  getting  himself  "  full  as  a  tick "  every  time  he 
ran  across  the  chance. 

Quite  a  different  picture  is  presented  by  an  industrious  old 
Mexican,  whom  I  happen  to  see  away  down  in  the  bottom  of  a  deep 
ravine,  along  which  swiftly  hurries  a  tiny  stream.  He  is  diligently 
shovelling  dirt  into  a  rude  sluice-box  which  he  has  constructed  in 
the  bed  of  the  stream  at  a  point  where  the  water  rushes  swiftly  down 
a  dechvity.  Setting  my  bicycle  up  against  a  rock,  I  clamber  down 
the  steep  bank  to  investigate.  In  tones  that  savor  of  anything  but 
satisfaction  with  the  result  of  his  labor,  he  informs  me  that  he  has 
to  work  "  most  infernal  hard "  to  pan  out  two  dollars'  worth  of 
"  dust "  a  day.  "  I  have  had  to  work  over  all  that  pile  of  gravel  you 
see  yonder  to  clean  up  seventeen   dollars'  worth  of  dust,"  further 


12  FROM  SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

volunteered  the  old  "  greaser,"  as  I  picked  up  a  spare  shovel  and 
helped  him  remove  a  couple  of  bowlders  that  he  was  trying  to  roll 
out  of  his  way.  I  condole  with  him  at  the  low  grade  of  the  gravel 
he  is  working,  hope  he  may  "  strike  it  rich  "one  of  these  days,  and 
take  my  departure. 

Up  here  I  find  it  preferable  to  keep  the  railway  track,  alongside 
of  which  there  are  occasionally  ridable  side-paths ;  while  on  the 
wagon  roads  Htile  or  no  riding  can  be  done  on  account  of  the  hills, 
and  the  sticky  nature  of  the  red,  clayey  soil.  From  the  railway 
track  near  Newcastle  is  obtained  a  magnificent  view  of  the  lower 
country,  traversed  during  the  last  three  days,  with  the  Sacramento 
Eiver  windiag  its  way  through  its  broad  valley  to  the  sea.  Deejj 
cuts  and  high  embankments  follow  each  other  in  succession,  as  the 
road-bed  is  now  broken  through  a  hill,  now  carried  across  a  deep 
gulch,  and  anon  winds  around  the  next  hill  and  over  another  ravine. 
Before  reaching  Auburn  I  pass  through  "  Bloomer  Cut,''  where 
perpendicular  walls  of  bowlders  loom  up  on  both  sides  of  the  track 
looking  as  if  the  slightest  touch  or  jar  would  unloose  them  and  send 
them  bounding  and  crashing  on  the  top  of  the  passing  train  as  it 
glides  along,  or  drop  down  on  the  stray  cycler  who  might  venture 
through.  On  the  way  past  Auburn,  and  on  up  to  Clipper  Gap,  the 
dry,  yeUow  dirt  under  the  overhanging  rocks,  and  in  the  crevices, 
is  so  suggestive  of  "  dust,"  that  I  take  a  smaU  prospecting  glass, 
which  I  have  in  my  tool-bag,  and  do  a  little  prospecting  ;  without, 
however,  finding  sufficient  "  color  "  to  induce  me  to  abandon  my 
journey  and  go  to  digging. 

Before  reaching  Chpper  Gap  it  begins  to  rain  ;  while  I  am  tak- 
ing dinner  at  that  place  it  quits  raining  and  begins  to  come  down 
by  buckets  fuU,  so  that  I  have  to  lie  over  for  the  remainder  of  the 
day.  The  hills  around  Clipper  Gap  are  gay  and  white  with  chapar- 
ral blossom,  which  gives  the  whole  landscape  a  pleasant,  gala-day 
appearance.  It  rains  all  the  evening,  and  at  night  turns  to  heavy, 
damp  snow,  which  clings  to  the  trees  and  bushes.  In  the  morning 
the  landscape,  which  a  few  hours  before  was  white  with  chaparral 
bloom,  is  now  even  more  white  with  the  bloom  of  the  snow. 

My  hostelry  at  Clipper  Gap  is  a  kind  of  half  ranch,  half  road- 
side inn,  down  in  a  small  valley  near  the  railway  ;  and  mine  host, 
a  jovial  Irish  blade  of  the  good  old  "  Donnybrook  Fair  "  variety, 
who  came  here  in  1851,  during  the  great  rush  to  the  gold  fields 
and,  failing  to  make  his  fortune  in  the  "  diggings,"  wisely  decided 


OVER  THE   SIERRAS   NEVADAS.  13 

to  send  foir  his  family  and  settle  down  quietly  on  a  piece  of  land, 
in  preference  to  returning  to  the  "  ould  sod."  He  turns  out  to  be 
a  "bit  av  a  sphort  meself,"  and,  after  showing  me  a  number  of 
minor  pets  and  favorites,  such  as  game  chickens,  Brahma  geese, 
and  a  litter  of  young  bull  pups,  he  proudly  leads  the  way  to  the 
barn  to  show  me  "Barney,"  his  greatest  pet  of  all,  whom  he  at 
present  keeps  secm-ely  tied  up  for  safe-keeping.  More  than  one 
evil-minded  person  has  a  hankering  after  Barney's  gore  since  his 
last  battle  for  the  championship  of  Placer  County,  he  explains,  in 
which  he  inflicted  severe  punishment  on  his  adversary  and  reso- 
lutely refused  to  give  in  ;  although  his  opponent  on  this  important 
occasion  was  an  imported  dog,  brought  into  the  county  by  Barney's 
enemies,  who  hoped  to  fill  their  pockets  by  betting  against  the 
local  champion.  But  Barney,  who  is  a  medium-sized,  ferocious- 
looking  bull  terrier,  "  scooped  "  the  crowd  backing  the  imported 
dog,  to  the  extent  of  their  "pile,"  by  "walking  all  round"  his  ad- 
versary ;  and  thereby  stirring  up  the  enmity  of  said  crowd  against 
himself,  who — so  says  Barney's  master — ^have  never  yet  been 
able  to  scare  up  a  dog  able  to  "  down  "  Barney.  As  we  stand  in 
the  barn-door  Barney  eyes  me  suspiciously,  and  then  looks  at  his 
master  ;  but  luckily  for  me  his  master  fails  to  give  the  word. 
Noticing  that  the  dog  is  scai-red  and  seamed  all  over,  I  inquire  the 
reason,  and  am  told  that  he  has  been  fighting  wild  boars  iu  the 
chapaiTal,  of  which  gentle  pastime  he  is  extremely  fond.  "  Yes, 
and  he'll  tackle  a  cougar  too,  of  which  there  are  plenty  of  them 
around  here,  if  that  cowardly  animal  would  only  keep  out  of  the 
trees,"  admiringly  continues  mine  host,  as  he  orders  Barney  into 
his  empty  salt-barrel  again. 

To  day  is  Sunday,  and  it  rains  and  snows  with  little  interrup- 
tion, so  that  I  am  compelled  to  stay  over  till  Monday  morning. 
While  it  is  raining  at  Clipper  Gap,  it  is  suovriug  higher  up  in  the 
mountains,  and  a  railway  employee  volunteers  the  cheering  infor- 
mation that,  during  the  winter,  the  snow  has  drifted  and  accumu- 
lated ia  the  sheds,  so  that  a  train  can  barely  squeeze  through, 
leaving  no  room  for  a  person  to  stand  to  one  side.  I  have  my  own 
ideas  of  whether  this  state  of  affairs  is  probable  or  not,  however, 
and  determine  to  pay  no  heed  to  any  of  these  rumors,  but  to  push 
ahead.  So  I  pull  out  on  Monday  morning  and  take  to  the  railway 
track  again,  which  is  the  only  passable  road  since  the  tremendous 
downpour  of  the  last  two  days. 


li 


FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


The  first  thing  I  come  across  is  a  tunnel  burrowing  through  a. 
hill.     This  tunnel  was  originally  built  the  proper  size,  but,  after 


Crossing  the  Sierra  Nevadas. 


being  walled  up,  there  were  indications  of  a  general  cave-in  ;  so 
the  company  had  to  go  to  work  and  build  another  thick  rock- wall 
inside  the  other,  which  leaves  barely  room  for  the  trains  to  pass 


OVER   THE   SIERIIAS   NEVADAS.  15 

through  without  touching  the  sides.  It  is  anj-thiiig  but  an  inviting 
path  around  the  hill ;  but  it  is  far  the  safer  of  the  two.  Once  my 
foot  slips,  and  I  unceremoniously  sit  down  and  slide  around  in  the 
soft  yellow  clay,  in  my  frantic  endeavors  to  keep  from  slipping 
down  the  hill.  This  hardly  enhances  my  personal  appeai-auce  ; 
but  it  doesn't  matter  much,  as  I  am  where  no  one  can  see,  and  a 
clay-besmeared  individual  is  worth  a  dozen  dead  ones.  Soon  I  am 
on  the  ti-ack  again,  briskly  trudging  up  the  steep  grade  toward  the 
snow-line,  which  I  can  plainly  see,  at  no  great  distance  ahead, 
through  the  windings  around  the  mountains. 

All  through  here  the  only  riding  to  be  done  is  along  occasional 
short  stretches  of  difficult  path  beside  the  track,  where  it  happens 
to  be  a  hard  sui-face  ;  and  on  the  plank  platforms  of  the  stations, 
where  I  generally  take  a  turn  or  two  to  satisfy  the  consuming  curi- 
osity of  the  miners,  who  can't  imagine  how  anybody  can  ride  a 
thing  that  won't  stand  alone  ;  at  the  same  time  arguing  among 
themselves  as  to  whether  I  ride  along  on  one  of  the  rails,  or  bump 
along  over  the  protruding  ties. 

This  morning  I  follow  the  railway  track  ai'ound  the  famous 
"  Cape  Horn,"  a  place  that  never  fails  to  photograph  itself  perma- 
nently upon  the  memoi-y  of  all  who  once  see  it.  For  scenery  that 
is  magnificently  grand  and  picturesque,  the  view  from  where  the 
railroad  track  curves  around  Cape  Horn  is  probably  without  a 
peer  on  the  American  continent. 

"When  the  Central  Pacific  Railway  company  started  to  grade 
their  road-bed  around  here,  men  were  first  swung  over  this  jsreci- 
pice  from  above  with  ropes,  until  they  made  standing  room  for 
themselves  ;  and  then  a  narrow  ledge  was  cut  on  the  almost  per- 
pendicular side  of  the  rocky  mountain,  around  which  the  railway 
now  winds. 

Standing  on  this  ledge,  the  rocks  tower  skyward  on  one  side  of 
the  track  so  close  as  almost  to  touch  the  passing  train  ;  and  on  the 
other  is  a  sheer  precipice  of  two  thousand  five  hundred  feet,  where 
one  can  stand  on  the  edge  and  see,  far  below,  the  north  fork  of  the 
American  Eiver,  which  looks  like  a  thread  of  silver  laid  along  the 
narrow  valley,  and  sends  up  a  far-away,  scarcely  perceptible  roar, 
as  it  rushes  and  rumbles  along  over  its  rocky  bed.  The  raUroad 
track  is  carefully  looked  after  at  this  point,  and  I  was  able,  by 
turning  round  and  taking  the  down  grade,  to  experience  the  nov- 
elty of  a  short  ride,  the  memory  of  which  will  be  ever  welcome 


16  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

should  one  live  to  be  as  old  as  "  the  oldest  inhabitant."  The 
scenery  for  the  next  few  miles  is  glorious  ;  the  grand  and  impos- 
ing mountains  are  partially  covered  with  stately  pines  down  to 
their  bases,  around  which  winds  the  turbulent  American  River, 
receiving  on  its  boisterous  march  down  the  mountains  tribute  from 
hundreds  of  smaller  streams  and  rivulets,  which  come  splashing 
and  dashing  out  of  the  dark  cations  and  crevasses  of  the  mighty 
hills. 

The  weather  is  capricious,  and  by  the  time  I  reach  Dutch  Flat, 
ten  miles  east  of  Cape  Horn,  the  floodgates  of  heaven  are  thrown 
open  again,  and  less  than  an  hour  succeeds  in  impressing  Dutch 
Flat  upon  my  memory  as  a  place  where  there  is  literally  "  water, 
water,  everywhere,  but  not  a  drop  to —  ; "  no,  I  cannot  finish  the 
quotation  !  What  is  the  use  of  lying  ?  There  is  plenty  to  drink 
at  Dutch  Flat ;  plenty  of  everything. 

But  there  is  no  joke  about  the  water  ;  it  is  pouring  in  torrents 
from  above  ;  the  streets  are  shallow  streams  ;  and  from  scores 
of  ditches  and  guUies  comes  the  merry  music  of  swiftly  rush- 
ing waters,  while,  to  crown  all,  scores  of  monster  streams  are 
rushing  with  a  hissing  sound  from  the  mouths  of  huge  pipes  or 
nozzles,  and  playing  against  the  surrounding  hills  ;  for  Dutch  Plat 
and  neighboring  camps  are  the  great  centre  of  hydraulic  mining 
operations  in  California  at  the  present  day.  Streams  of  water, 
higher  up  the  mountains,  are  taken  from  their  channels  and  con- 
ducted hither  through  miles  of  wooden  flumes  and  iron  piping  ; 
and  from  the  mouths  of  huge  nozzles  are  thrown  with  tremen- 
dous force  against  the  hUls,  literally  mowing  them  down. 

The  rain  stops  as  abruptly  as  it  began.  The  sun  shines  out  clear 
and  warm,  and  I  push  ahead  once  more. 

Gradually  I  have  been  getting  up  into  the  snow,  and  ever 
and  anon  a  muffled  roar  comes  booming  and  echoing  over  the 
mountains  like  the  sound  of  distant  artillery.  It  is  the  suUen 
noise  of  monster  snow-slides  among  the  deep,  dark  canons  of 
the  mountains,  though  a  wicked  person  at  Gold  Run  winked  at 
another  man  and  tried  to  make  me  believe  it  was  the  grizzlies 
"  going  about  the  mountains  like  roaiing  lions,  seeking  whom  they 
might  devour."  The  giant  voices  of  nature,  the  imposing  scenery 
the  gloomy  pine  forests  which  have  now  taken  the  place  of  the 
gay  chaparral,  combine  to  impress  one  who,  all  alone,  looks  and 
listens  with  a  realizing  sense  of  his  own  littleness. 


OVER  THE   SIEREAS   JN'EVADAS.  17 

What  a  change  has  come  over  the  whole  face  of  nature  in  a  few 
days'  travel !  But  four  clays  ago  I  was  in  the  semi-tropical  Sacra- 
mento Valley  ;  now  gaunt  mnter  reigns  supreme,  and  the  only 
vegetation  is  the  hardy  pine. 

This  afternoon  I  pass  a  small  camp  of  Digger  Indians,  to  whom 
my  bicycle  is  as  much  a  mystery  as  was  the  first  locomotive  ;  j-et 
they  scarcely  turn  their  uncovered  heads  to  look ;  and  my  cheery 
greeting  of  "How,"  scarce  elicits  a  grunt  and  a  stare  in  reply. 
Long  years  of  chronic  hunger  and  wretchedness  have  well-nigh 
eradicated  what  little  energy  these  Diggers  ever  possessed.  The 
discovery  of  gold  among  their  native  mountains  has  been  their 
bane  ;  the  only  antidote  the  rude  grave  beneath  the  pine  and  the 
happy  hunting-grounds  beyond. 

The  next  morning  finds  me  briskly  trundling  through  the  gTeat, 
gloomy  snow-sheds  that  extend  with  but  few  breaks  for  the  next 
forty  miles.  When  I  emerge  from  them  on  the  other  end  I  shall 
be  over  the  summit  and  weU.  dovyn  the  eastern  slope  of  the  moun- 
tains. These  huge  sheds  have  been  built  at  gTeat  expense  to  pro- 
tect the  track  from  the  vast  quantities  of  snow  that  fall  every 
winter  on  these  mountains.  They  wind  around  the  mountain-sides, 
their  roofs  built  so  slanting  that  the  mighty  avalanche  of  rock  and 
snow  that  comes  thunderiug  down  from  above  glides  harmlessly 
over,  and  down  the  chasm  on  the  other  side,  whUe  the  train  glides 
along  unharmed  beneath  them.  The  section-houses,  the  water- 
tanks,  stations,  and  everything  along  here  are  all  under  the  gloomy 
but  friendly  shelter  of  the  great  protecting  sheds. 

Fortunately  I  find  the  difficulties  of  getting  through  much  less 
than  I  had  been  led  by  rumors  to  anticipate  ;  and  although  no 
riding  can  be  done  in  the  sheds,  I  make  very  good  progress,  and 
trudge  merrily  along,  thankful  of  a  chance  to  get  over  the  mountains 
without  having  to  wait  a  month  or  six  weeks  for  the  snow  outside 
to  disappear.  At  intervals  short  breaks  occur  in  the  sheds,  where 
the  track  runs  over  deep  gulch  or  ravine,  and  at  one  of  these  open- 
ings the  sinuous  structure  can  be  traced  for  quite  a  long  distance, 
winding  its  tortuous  way  around  the  rugged  mountaia  sides,  and 
through  the  gloomy  pine  forest,  all  but  buried  under  the  snow.  It 
requires  no  great  eifort  of  the  mind  to  imagine  it  to  be  some  won- 
derful relic  of  a  past  civilization,  when  a  venturesome  race  of  men 
thus  dared  to  invade  these  vast  wintry  solitudes  and  burrow  their 
way  through  the  deep  snow,  like  moles  burrowing  through  the 
2 


18 


FEOM  SAK  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHEKAN. 


loose  earth.  Not  a  living  thing  is  in  sight,  and  the  only  sounds 
the  occasional  roar  of  a  distant  snow-slide,  and  the  mournful  sigh- 
ing of  the  breeze  as  it  plays  a  weird,  melancholy  dirge  through  the 
gently  swaying  branches  of  the  tall,  sombre  pines,  whose  stately 
trunks  are  half  buried  in  the  omnipresent  snow. 


'      WVrl 


In  the  Central  Pacific  Snow-sheds. 

To-night  I  stay  at  the  Summit  Hotel,  seven  thousand  and  seven- 
teen feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea.  The  "  Summit "  is  nothing  if 
not  snowy,  and  I  am  told  that  thirty  feet  on  the  level  is  no  unusual 
thing  up  here.  Indeed,  it  looks  as  if  snow-baUing  on  the  "  Glo- 
rious Fourth  "were  no  great  luxury  at  the  Summit  House  ;  yet  not- 


OVER   THE  SIERRAS  NEVADAS.  19 

withstanding  the  decidedly  wintry  aspect  of  the  Sierras,  the  low 
temperatui'e  of  the  Rockies  farther  east  is  unknown  ;  and  although 
there  is  snow  to  the  right,  snow  to  the  left,  snow  all  around,  and 
ice  under  foot,  I  travel  all  through  the  gloomy  sheds  in  my  shirt- 
sleeves, with  but  a  gossamer  rubber  coat  thrown  over  my  shoulders 
to  keep  off  the  snow-water  which  is  constantly  melting  and  drip- 
ping through  the  roof,  making  it  almost  Uke  going  through  a  shower 
of  rain.  Often,  when  it  is  warm  and  balmy  outside,  it  is  cold  and 
frosty  under  the  sheds,  and  the  dripping  water,  falling  among  the 
rocks  and  timbers,  freezes  into  all  manner  of  fantastic  shapes. 
Whole  menageries  of  ice  animals,  birds  and  all  imaginable  objects, 
are  here  reproduced  in  clear  crystal  ice,  while  in  many  places  the 
gToxmd  is  covered  with  an  irregular  coating  of  the  same,  that  often 
has  to  be  chipped  away  from  the  rails. 

East  of  the  summit  is  a  succession  of  short  tunnels,  the  space 
between  being  covered  with  snow-shed  ;  and  when  I  came  through, 
the  openings  and  crevices  through  which  the  smoke  from  the  en- 
gines is  wont  to  make  its  escape,  and  through  Avhich  a  few  rays  of 
light  penetrate  the  gloomy  interior,  are  blocked  up  with  snow,  so 
that  it  is  both  dark  and  smoky  ;  and  groping  one's  way  with  a 
bicycle  over  the  rough  surface  is  anything  but  pleasant  going.  But 
there  is  nothing  so  bad,  it  seems,  but  that  it  can  get  a  great  deal 
worse  ;  and  before  getting  far,  I  hear  an  approaching  train  and 
forthwith  proceed  to  occupy  as  small  an  amoiint  of  space  as  possi- 
ble against  the  side,  while  three  laboriously  pufiSng  engines,  tugging 
a  long,  heavy  freight  train  up  the  steej)  grade,  go  past.  These  three 
puffing,  smoke-emitting  monsters  fill  evei-y  nook  and  corner  of  the 
tunnel  with  dense  smoke,  which  creates  a  darkness  by  the  side 
of  which  the  natural  darkness  of  the  tunnel  is  daylight  in  com- 
parison. Here  is  a  darkness  that  can  be  felt  ;  I  have  to  grope  my 
way  forward,  inch  by  inch  ;  afraid  to  set  my  foot  down  until  I  have 
felt  the  place,  for  fear  of  blundering  into  a  culvert ;  at  the  same 
time  never  knowing  whether  there  is  room,  just  where  I  am,  to  get 
out  of  the  way  of  a  train.  A  cyclometer  wouldn't  have  to  exert 
itself  much  through  here  to  keep  tally  of  the  revolutions  ;  for,  be- 
sides advancing  with  extreme  caution,  I  pause  every  few  steps  to 
listen  ;  as  in  the  oppressive  darkness  and  equally  oppressive  si- 
lence the  senses  are  so  keenly  on  the  alert  that  the  gentle  rattle  of 
the  bicycle  over  the  uneven  surface  seems  to  make  a  noise  that 
would  prevent  me  hearing  an  approaching  train. 


20  FEOM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO   TEHEEAN. 

This  finally  comes  to  an  end  ;  and  at  the  opening  in  the  sheds  I 
climb  up  into  a  pine-tree  to  obtain  a  view  of  Conner  Lake,  called 
the  "  Gem  of  the  Sierras."  It  is  a  lovely  little  lake,  and  amid  the 
pines,  and  on  its  shores  occurred  one  of  the  most  pathetically  tragic 
events  of  the  old  emigrant  days.  Briefly  related  :  A  smaU.  party  of 
emigrants  became  snowed  in  while  camped  at  the  lake,  and  when, 
toward  spring,  a  rescuing  party  reached  the  spot,  the  last  survi- 
vor of  the  party,  crazed  with  the  fearful  suffering  he  had  under- 
gone, was  sitting  on  a  log,  savagely  gnavring  away  at  a  human  arm, 
the  last  remnant  of  his  companions  in  misery,  off  whose  emaciated 
carcasses  he  had  for  some  time  been  living ! 

My  road  now  follows  the  course  of  the  Truckee  River  down  the 
eastern  slope  of  the  Sierras,  and  across  the  boundary  line  into 
Nevada.  The  Truckee  is  a  rapid,  rollicking  stream  from  one  end  to 
the  other,  and  affords  dam-sites  and  mill-sites  without  limit. 

There  is  Httle  ridable  road  down  the  Truckee  canon  ;  but  be- 
fore reaching  Verdi,  a  station  a  few  miles  over  the  Nevada  line, 
I  find  good  road,  and  ride  up  and  dismount  at  the  door  of  the 
little  hotel  as  coolly  as  if  I  had  rode  without  a  dismount  all  the  way 
from  'Frisco.  Here  at  Verdi  is  a  camp  of  Washoe  Indians,  who  at 
once  showed  their  superiority  to  the  Diggers  by  clustering  around 
and  examining  the  bicycle  with  great  curiosity.  Verdi  is  less  than 
forty  miles  from  the  summit  of  the  Sierras,  and  from  the  porch  of 
the  hotel  I  can  see  the  snow-storm  still  fiercely  raging  up  in  the 
place  where  I  stood  a  few  hours  ago  ;  yet  one  can  feel  that  he  is 
already  in  a  dryer  and  altogether  different  climate.  The  great 
masses  of  clouds,  travelling  inward  from  the  coast  with  their  bur- 
dens of  moisture,  like  messengers  of  peace  with  presents  to  a  far 
country,  being  unable  to  surmount  the  great  mountain  barrier 
that  towers  skyward  across  their  path,  unload  their  precious  car- 
goes on  the  mountains  ;  and  the  parched  plains  of  Nevada  open 
their  thirsty  mouths  in  vain.  At  Verdi  I  bid  good-by  to  the  Golden 
State  and  follow  the  course  of  the  sparkling  Truckee  towaa.-d  the 
Forty-mile  Desert. 


CHAPTER  II. 

OVER   THE  DESERTS  OF  NEVADA. 

GBAD0AiiT  I  leave  the  pine-clad  slopes  of  tlie  Sierras  behind, 
and  every  revolution  of  my  wheel  reveals  scenes  that  constantly  re- 
mind me  that  I  am  in  the  great  "  Sage-brush  State."  How  ap]3ro- 
priate  indeed  is  the  name  !  Sage-brush  is  the  first  thing  seen  on 
entering  Nevada,  almost  the  only  vegetation  seen  while  passing 
through  it,  and  the  last  thing  seen  on  leaving  it.  Clear  down  to 
the  edge  of  the  rippHng  waters  of  the  Truckee,  on  the  otherwise 
barren  plain,  covering  the  elevated  table-lands,  up  the  hills,  even 
to  the  mountain-tops — everywhere,  everywhere,  nothing  but  sage- 
brush. In  plain  view  to  the  right,  as  I  roll  on  toward  Reno,  are 
the  mountains  on  which  the  world-renowned  Comstock  lode  is  situ- 
ated, and  Reno  was  formerly  the  point  from  which  this  celebrated 
mining-camp  was  reached. 

Before  reaching  Reno  I  meet  a  lone  Washoe  Indian ;  he  is 
riding  a  diminutive,  scraggy-looking  mustang.  One  of  his  legs  is 
muffled  up  in  a  red  blanket,  and  in  one  hand  he  carries  a  rudely- 
invented  crutch.  "  How  will  you  trade  horses  ?  "  I  banteringly 
ask  as  we  meet  in  the  road  ;  and  I  dismount  for  an  interview,  to 
find  out  what  kind  of  Indians  these  Washoes  are.  To  my  friendly 
chaff  he  vouchsafes  no  reply,  but  simply  sits  motionless  on  his 
pony,  and  fixes  a  regular  "  Injun  stare  ''  on  the  bicycle.  "  What's 
the  matter  with  your  leg  ?  "  I  persist,  pointing  at  the  blanket-be- 
muffled  member. 

"  Heap  sick  foot "  is  the  reply,  given  with  the  characteristic 
brevity  of  the  savage  ;  and,  now  that  the  ice  of  his  aboriginal  re- 
serve is  broken,  he  manages  to  find  words  enough  to  ask  me  for 
tobacco.  I  have  no  tobacco,  but  the  ride  through  the  crisp  morn- 
ing air  has  been  productive  of  a  surplus  amount  of  animal  spirits, 
and  I  feel  like  doing  something  funny  ;  so  I  volunteer  to  cure  his 
"sick  foot "  by  sundry  dark  and  mysterious  manoeuvres,  that  I  un- 
blushingly  intimate  are  "heap  good  medicine."  With  owlish  so- 
lemnity my  small  monkey-wrench  is  taken  from  the  tool-bag  and 


22  FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN". 

waved  around  the  "  sick  foot "  a  few  times,  and  the  operation  is 
completed  by  squirting  a  few  drops  from  my  oil-can  through  a 
hole  in  the  blanket.  Before  going  I  give  him  to  understand  that, 
in  order  to  have  the  "  good  medicine  "  operate  to  his  advantage,  he 
will  have  to  soak  his  copper-colored  hide  in  a  bath  every  morning 
for  a  week,  flattering  myself  that,  while  my  mystic  manoeuvres  will 
do  him  no  harm,  the  latter  prescription  will  certainly  do  him  good 
if  he  acts  on  it,  which,  however,  is  extremely  doubtful. 

EoUing  into  Eeno  at  10.30  a.m.  the  characteristic  whiskey- 
straight  hospitality  of  the  Far  West  at  once  asserts  itself,  and  one 
individual  with  sporting  proclivities  invites  me  to  stop  over  a  day 
or  two  and  assist  him  to  "  paint  Eeno  red ."  at  his  expense.  Leav- 
ing Eeno,  my  route  leads  through  the  famous  Truckee  meadows — 
a  strip  of  very  good  agricultural  land,  where  plenty  pf  monej'  used 
to  be  made  by  raising  produce  for  the  Virginia  City  market. 

"  But  there's  nothing  in  it  any  more,  since  the  Comstock's 
played  out,"  glumly  remarks  a  ranchman,  at  whose  place  I  get  din- 
ner. "  I'll  take  less  for  my  ranch  now  than  I  was  ofifered  ten  years 
ago,"  he  continues. 

The  "  meadows "  gradually  contract,  and  soon  after  dinner  I 
find  myself  again  following  the  Truckee  down  a  narrow  space  be- 
tween mountains,  whose  volcanic-looking  rocks  are  destitute  of  aU 
vegetation  save  stunted  sage-brush.  All  down  here  the  road  is 
ridable  in  patches  ;  but  many  dismounts  have  to  be  made,  and  the 
walking  to  be  done  aggregates  at  least  one-third  of  the  whole  dis- 
tance travelled  during  the  day.  Sneakish  coyotes  prowl  about  these 
mountains,  from  whence  they  pay  neighborly  visits  to  the  chicken- 
roosts  of  the  ranchers  in  the  Truckee  meadows  near  by.  Toward 
night  a  pair  of  these  animals  are  observed  following  behind  at  the 
respectful  distance  of  five  hundred  yards.  One  need  not  be  appre- 
hensive of  danger  from  these  contemptible  animals,  however  ;  they 
are  simply  following  behind  in  a  frame  of  mind  similar  to  that  of  a 
hungry  school-boy's  when  gazing  longingly  into  a  confectioner's 
window.  Still,  night  is  gathering  around,  and  it  begins  to  look  as 
though  I  will  have  to  pillow  my  head  on  the  soft  side  of  a  bowlder, 
and  take  lodgings  on  the  footsteps  of  a  bald  mountain  to-night  ; 
and  it  will  scarcely  invite  sleep  to  know  that  two  pairs  of  sharp, 
wolfish  eyes  are  peering  wistfully  through  the  darkness  at  one's 
prostrate  form,  and  two  red  tongues  are  licking  about  in  hungry 
anticipation  of  one's  blood.     Moreovei-,  these  animals  have  an  uu- 


OVER  THE  DESERTS   OF    NEVADA.  23 

pleasant  habit  of  congregating  after  night  to  pay  their  compliments 
to  the  pale  moon,  and  to  hold  concerts  that  would  put  to  shame  a 
whole  regiment  of  Kilkenny  cats  ;  though  there  is  but  little  com- 
parison between  the  two,  save  that  one  howls  and  the  other  yowls, 
and  either  is  equally  effective  in  driving  away  the  drowsy  Goddess. 
I  try  to  draw  these  two  animals  within  range  of  my  revolver  by 
hiding  behind  rocks  ;  but  they  are  too  chary  of  their  precious  car- 
casses to  take  any  risks,  and  the  moment  I  disappear  from  their 
sight  behind  a  rock  they  are  on  the  alert,  and  looking  "  forty  ways 
at  the  same  time,"  to  make  sure  that  I  am  not  creeping  up  on  them 
from  some  other  direction.  Fate,  however,  has  decreed  that  I  am 
not  to  sleep  out  to-night — not  quite  out.  A  lone  shanty  looms  up 
through  the  gathering  darkness,  and  I  immediately  turn  my  foot- 
steps thither  wise.  I  find  it  occupied.  I  am  all  right  now  for  the 
night.  Hold  on,  though  !  not  so  fast !  "There  is  many  a  slip," 
etc.  The  little  shanty,  with  a  few  acres  of  rather  rockj-  ground,  on 
the  bank  of  the  Truckee,  is  presided  over  by  a  lonely  bachelor  of 
German  extraction,  who  eyes  me  with  evident  suspicion,  as,  leaning 
on  my  bicycle  in  front  of  his  rude  cabin  door  I  ask  to  be  accom- 
modated for  the  night.  "Were  it  a  man  on  horseback,  or  a  man 
with  a  team,  this  hermit-like  rancher  could  satisfy  himself  to  some 
extent  as  to  the  character  of  his  visitor,  for  he  sees  men  on  horse- 
back or  men  in  wagons,  on  an  average,  perhaps,  once  a  week  during 
the  summer,  and  can  see  plenty  of  them  any  day  by  going  to  Reno. 
But  me  and  the  bicycle  he  cannot  "  size  up  "  so  readily.  He  never 
saw  the  like  of  us  before,  and  we  are  beyond  his  Teutonic  frontier- 
like comprehension.  He  gives  us  up  ;  he  fails  to  solve  the  puzzle  ; 
he  knows  not  how  to  unravel  the  mj'stery  ;  and,  with  characteristic 
Teutonic  bluntness,  he  advises  us  to  push  on  through  fifteen  miles 
of  rocks,  sand,  and  darkness,  to  Wadsworth.  The  prospect  of 
worrying  my  way,  hungry  and  weary,  through  fifteen  miles  of 
rough,  unknown  country,  after  dark,  looms  up  as  rather  a  formida- 
ble task.  So  summoning  my  reserve  stock  of  persuasive  eloquence, 
backed  up  by  sundry  significant  movements,  such  as  setting  the 
bicycle  up  against  liis  cabin-wall,  and  sitting  down  on  a  block 
of  wood  under  the  window,  I  finally  prevail  upon  him  to  accom- 
modate me  with  a  blanket  on  the  floor  of  the  shanty.  He  has  just 
finished  supper,  and  the  remnants  of  the  frugal  repast  are  still 
on  the  table  ;  but  he  says  nothing  about  any  supper  for  me :  he 
scarcely  feels  satisfied  with  himself  yet :  he  feels  that  I  have,  in 


24  FROM   SAK  FEANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

some  mysterious  manner,  gained  an  unfair  advantage  over  him,  and 
obtained  a  foothold  in  his  shanty  against  his  own  wish — jumped 
his  claim,  so  to  speak.  Not  that  I  think  the  man  really  inhospitable 
at  heart ;  but  he  has  been  so  habitually  alone,  away  from  his  fellow- 
men  so  much,  that  the  presence  of  a  stranger  in-  his  cabin  makes 
him  feel  uneasy ;  and  when  that  stranger  is  accompanied  by  a 
queer-looking  piece  of  machinery  that  cannot  stand  alone,  but 
which  he  nevertheless  says  he  rides  on,  our  lonely  rancher  is  per- 
haps not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at,  after  all,  for  his  absent-mind- 
edness in  regard  to  my  supper.  His  mind  is  occupied  with  other 
thoughts.  "  You  couldn't  accommodate  a  fellow  with  a  bite  to  eat, 
could  you  ?  "  I  timidly  venture,  after  devouring  what  eatables  are 
in  sight,  over  and  over  again,  with  my  eyes.  "  I  have  plenty  of 
money  to  pay  for  any  accommodation  I  get,"  I  think  it  policy  to 
add,  by  way  of  cornering  him  up  and  giving  him  as  little  chance  to 
refuse  as  possible,  for  I  am  decidedly  hungry,  and  if  money  or 
diplomacy,  or  both,  will  produce  supper,  I  don't  propose  to  go  to 
bed  supperless.  I  am  not  much  surprised  to  see  him  bear  out  my 
faith  in  his  innate  hospitality  by  apologizing  for  not  thinking  of 
my  supper  before,  and  insisting,  against  my  expressed  wishes,  on 
lighting  the  fire  and  getting  me  a  warm  meal  of  fried  ham  and  cof- 
fee, for  which  I  beg  leave  to  withdraw  any  unfavorable  impressions 
in  regard  to  him  which  my  previous  remarks  may  possibly  have 
made  on  the  reader's  mind. 

After  supper  he  thaws  out  a  little,  and  I  wheedle  out  of  him  a 
part  of  his  history.  He  settled  on  this  spot  of  semi-cultivable 
land  during  the  flush  times  on  the  Comstock,  and  used  to  prosper 
very  well  by  raising  vegetables,  with  the  aid  of  Truckee-Eivpr 
water,  and  hauling  them  to  the  mining-camps  ;  but  the  palmy  days 
of  the  Comstock  have  departed  and  with  them  our  lonely  rancher's 
prosperity.  Mine  host  has  barely  blankets  enough  for  his  own 
narrow  bunk,  and  it  is  really  an  act  of  generosity  on  his  part  when 
he  takes  a  blanket  off  his  bed  and  invites  me  to  extract  what  com- 
iort  I  can  get  out  of  it  for  the  night.  Snowy  mountains  are  round 
about,  and  curled  up  on  the  floor  of  the  shanty,  like  a  kitten  under 
a  stove  in  mid-winter,  I  shiver  the  long  hours  away,  and  endeavor 
to  feel  thankful  that  it  is  no  worse. 

For  a  short  distance,  next  morning,  the  road  is  ridable  but 
neariug  Wadsworth  it  gets  sandy,  and  "  sandy,''  in  Nevada  means 
deep,  loose  sand,  in  which  one  sinks  almost  to  his  ankles  at  every 


OVER  THE  DESEETS    OF  NEVADA.  25 

step,  and  where  the  possession  of  a  bicycle  fails  to  awaken  that  de- 
gree of  enthusiasm  that  it  does  on  a  smooth,  hard  road.  At  Wads- 
worth  I  have  to  bid  farewell  to  the  Truekee  River,  and  start  across 
the  Forty-mile  Desert,  which  lies  between  the  Truekee  and  Hum- 
boldt Rivers.  Standing  on  a  sand-hill  and  looking  eastward  across 
the  dreary,  desolate  waste  of  sand,  rocks,  and  alkali,  it  is  with  posi- 
tive regTet  that  I  think  of  leaving  the  cool,  sparkling  stream  that 
has  been  my  almost  constant  companion  for  nearly  a  hundred 
miles.  It  has  always  been  at  hand  to  quench  my  thirst  or  furnish 
a  refreshing  bath.  More  than  once  have  I  beguiled  the  tedium  of 
some  uninteresting  part  of  the  journey  by  racing  with  some  tri- 
fling object  hurried  along  on  its  rippling  surface.  I  shall  miss  the 
murmuring  music  of  its  dancing  waters  as  one  would  miss  the  con- 
versation of  a  companion. 

This  Forty-mile  Desert  is  the  place  that  was  so  much  dreaded 
by  the  emigrants  en  route  to  the  gold-fields  of  California,  there 
being  not  a  blade  of  grass  nor  drop  of  water  for  the  whole  forty 
miles  ;  nothing  but  a  dreary  waste  of  sand  and  rocks  that  reflects 
the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  renders  the  desert  a  veritable  furnace  in 
midsummer  ;  and  the  stock  of  the  emigrants,  worn  out  by  the  long 
journey  from  the  States,  would  succumb  by  the  score  in  crossing. 
Though  much  of  the  trail  is  totally  unfit  for  cycling,  there  are 
occasional  alkali  flats  that  are  smooth  and  hard  enough  to  play 
croquet  on  ;  and  this  afternoon,  whUe  riding  with  careless  ease 
across  one  of  these  places,  I  am  struck  with  the  novelty  of  the  situa- 
tion. I  am  in  the  midst  of  the  dreariest,  deadest-looking  country 
imaginable.  Whirlwinds  of  sand,  looking  at  a  distance  like  huge 
columns  of  smoke,  are  wandering  erratically  over  the  plains  in  aL. 
directions.  The  blazing  sun  casts,  with  startling  vividness  on  the 
smooth  white  alkali,  that  awful  scraggy,  straggling  shadow  that, 
like  a  vengeful  fate,  alwaj'S  accompanies  the  cycler  on  a  sunny  day, 
and  which  is  the  bane  of  a  sensitive  wheelman's  life  !  The  only 
representative  of  animated  nature  hereabouts  is  a  species  of  small 
gray  lizard  that  scuttles  over  the  bare  ground  with  astonishing 
rapidity.  Not  even  a  bird  is  seen  in  the  air.  AU  living  things 
seem  instinctively  to  avoid  this  dread  spot  save  the  lizard.  A 
desert  forty  miles  wide  is  not  a  particularly  large  one  ;  but  when 
one  is  in  the  middle  of  it,  it  might  as  well  be  as  extensive  as  Sa- 
hara itself,  for  anything  he  can  see  to  the  contrary,  and  away  off  to 
the  right  I  behold  as  perfect  a  mirage  as  one  could  wish  to  see. 


4fi 


u 


OVER  THE  DESERTS   OF   NEVADA.  27 

A  person  can  scarce  help  believing  his  own  eyes,  and  did  one  not 
have  some  knowledge  of  tliese  strange  and  wondrous  phenomena, 
one's  orbs  of  vision  would  indeed  open  with  astonishment;  for 
seemingly  but  a  few  miles  away  is  a  beautiful  lake,  whose  shores 
are  fringed  with  wavy  foliage,  and  whose  cool  waters  seem  to  lave 
the  burning  desert  sands  at  its  edge. 

A  short  distance  to  the  right  of  Hot  Springs  Station  broken 
clouds  of  steam  are  seen  rising  from  the  ground,  as  though  huge 
caldrons  of  water  were  being  heated  there.  Going  to  the  spot  I 
find,  indeed,  "  caldrons  of  boiling  water  ; "  but  the  caldrons  are  in 
the  depths.  At  irregular  openings  in  the  rocky  ground  the  bub- 
bhng  water  wells  to  the  surface,  and  the  fires — ah  !  where  are  the 
fires  ?  On  another  part  of  this  desert  ai-e  curious  springs  that  look 
demure  and  innocuous  enough  most  of  the  time,  but  occasionally 
they  emit  columns  of  spray  and  steam.  It  is  related  of  these 
springs  that  once  a  party  of  emigrants  passed  by,  and  one  of  the 
men  knelt  down  to  take  a  drink  of  the  clear,  nice-looking  water. 
At  the  instant  he  leaned  over,  the  spring  spurted  a  quantity  of 
steam  and  spray  all  over  him,  scaring  him  nearly  out  of  his  wits.' 
The  man  sprang  up,  and  ran  as  if  for  his  life,  frantically  beckoning 
the  wagons  to  move  on,  at  the  same  time  shouting,  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  "  Drive  on  !  drive  on  !  hell's  no  great  distance  from 
here  !  " 

From  the  Forty-mile  Desert  my  road  leads  up  the  valley  of  the 
Humboldt  Eiver.  On  the  shores  of  Humboldt  Lake  are  camped  a 
dozen  Piute  lodges,  and  I  make  a  half-hour  halt  to  pay  them  a 
visit.  I  shall  never  know  whether  I  am  a  welcome  visitor  or  not  ; 
they  show  no  signs  of  pleasure  or  displeasure  as  I  trundle  the 
bicycle  through  the  sage-brush  toward  them.  Leaning  it  familiarly 
up  against  one  of  their  teepes,  I  wander  among  them  and  pry  into 
their  domestic  affairs  like  a  health-ofiScer  in  a  New  York  tenement. 
I  know  I  have  no  right  to  do  this  without  saying,  "By  your  leave,'' 
but  item-hunters  the  world  over  do  likewise,  so  I  feel  Httle  squeam- 
ishness  about  it.  Moreover,  when  I  come  back  I  find  the  Indians 
are  playing  "  tit-for-tat "  against  me.  Not  only  are  they  curiously 
examining  the  bicycle  as  a  whole,  but  they  have  opened  the  tool- 
bag  and  are  examining  the  tools,  handing  them  around  among 
themselves.  I  don't  think  these  Piutes  are  smart  or  bold  enough 
to  steal  nowadays  ;  their  intercourse  with  the  whites  along  the 
railroad  has,  in  a  measure,  relieved  them  of  those  aboriginal  traits 


28  FROM   SAK  FEAWCISCO   TO  TEHEEAN. 

of  character  that  would  incite  them  to  steal  a  brass  button  off  their 
pale-faced  brother's  coat,  or  screw  a  nut  off  his  bicycle ;  but  they 
have  learned  to  beg  ;  'the  noble  Piute  of  to-day  is  an  incorrigible 
mendicant.  Gathering  up  my  tools  from  among  them,  the  monkey- 
wrench  seems  to  have  found  favor  in  the  eyes  of  a  wrinkled-faced 
brave,  who,  it  seems,  is  a  chief.  He  hands  the  wrench  over  with  a 
smile  that  is  meant  to  be  captivating,  and  points  at  it  as  I  am  put- 
ting it  back  into  the  bag,  and  grunts,  "  Ugh  !  Piute  likum  !  Piute 
likum ! "  As  I  hold  it  up,  and  ask  him  if  this  is  what  he  means,  he 
again  points  and  repeats,  "  Piute  likum  ; "  and  this  time  two  others 
standing  by  point  at  him  and  also  smile  and  say,  "Him  big  chief  ; 
big  Piute  chief,  him  ; "  thinking,  no  doubt,  this  latter  would  be  a 
clincher,  and  that  I  would  at  once  recognize  in  "  big  Piute  chief, 
him  "  a  vastly  superior  being  and  hand  him  over  the  wrench.  In 
this,  however,  they  are  mistaken,  for  the  vsrench  I  cannot  spare  ; 
neither  can  I  see  any  lingering  trace  of  royalty  about  him,  no  king- 
liness  of  mien,  or  extra  cleanliness  ;  nor  is  there  anything  winning 
about  his  smile — nor  any  of  their  smiles  for  that  matter.  The 
Piute  smile  seems  to  me  to  be  simply  a  cold,  passionless  expansion 
of  the  vast  horizontal  slit  that  reaches  almost  from  one  ear  to  the 
other,  and  separates  the  upper  and  lower  sections  of  their  expres- 
sionless faces.  Even  the  smiles  of  the  squaws  are  of  the  same  un- 
lovely pattern,  though  they  seem  to  be  perfectly  oblivious  of  any 
ugliness  whatever,  and  whenever  a  pale-faced  visitor  appears  near 
their  teepe  they  straightway  present  him  with  one  of  those  repul- 
sive, unwinning  smiles. 

Sunday,  May  4th,  finds  me  anchored  for  the  day  at  the  village 
of  Lovelocks,  on  the  Humboldt  River,  where  I  spend  quite  a  re- 
markable day.  Never  before  did  such  a  strangely  assorted  crowd 
gather  to  see  the  first  bicycle  ride  they  ever  saw,  as  the  crowd  that 
gathers  behind  the  station  at  Lovelocks  to-day  to  see  me.  There 
are  perhaps  one  hundred  and  fifty  people,  of  whom  a  hundred  are 
Piute  and  Shoshone  Indians,  and  the  remainder  a  mingled  company 
of  whites  and  Chinese  raih-oaders  ;  and  among  them  all  it  is  difii- 
cult  to  say  who  are  the  most  taken  with  the  novelty  of  the  exhibi- 
tion— the  red,  the  yellow,  or  the  white.  Later  in  the  evening 
I  accept  the  invitation  of  a  Piute  brave  to  come  out  to  their 
camp,  behind  the  village,  and  witness  rival  teams  of  Shoshone  and 
Piute  squaws  play  a  match-game  of  "  Fi-re-fla,"  the  national  game 
of  both  the  Shoshone  and  Piute  tribes.     The  principle  of  the  game 


OVER   THE  DESERTS   OF    NEVADA.  29 

is  similar  to  polo.  The  squaws  are  armed  with  long  sticks,  with 
which  they  endeavor  to  carry  a  shorter  one  to  the  goal.  It  is  a 
picturesque  and  novel  sight  to  see  the  squaws,  dressed  in  costumes 
in  which  the  garb  of  savagery  and  civilization  is  strangely  mingled 
and  the  many  colors  of  the  rainbow  are  promiscuously  blended, 
flitting  about  the  field  with  the  agility  of  a  team  of  professional 
polo-players ;  while  the  bucks  and  old  squaws,  with  their  pap- 
pooses,  sit  around  and  watch  the  game  with  unmistakable  enthu- 
siasm.    The  Shoshone  team  wins  and  looks  pleased. 

Here,  at  Lovelocks,  I  fall  in  with  one  of  those  strange  and  seem- 
ingly incongruous  characters  that  are  occasionally  met  with  in  the 
West.  He  is  conversing  with  a  small  gathering  of  Piutes  in  their 
own  tongue,  and  I  introduce  myself  by  asking  him  the  probable 
age  of  one  of  the  Indians,  whose  wrinkled  and  leathery  countenance 
would  indicate  unusual  longevity.  He  tells  me  the  Indian  is  prob- 
ably ninety  years  old  ;  but  the  Indians  themselves  never  know  their 
age,  as  they  count  everything  by  the  changes  of  the  moon  and  the 
seasons,  having  no  knowledge  whatever  of  the  calendar  year. 
While  talking  on  this  subject,  imagine  my  surprise  to  hear  my  in- 
formant—who looks  as  if  the  Scriptures  are  the  last  thing  in  the 
world  for  him  to  speak  of — volunteer  the  information  that  our  ven- 
erable and  venerated  ancestors,  the  antediluvians,  used  to  count 
time  in  the  same  way  as  the  Indians,  and  that  instead  of  Methuse- 
lah being  nine  hundred  and  sixty-nine  years  of  age,  it  ought  to  be 
revised  so  as  to  read  "  nine  hundred  and  sixty-nine  moons,"  which 
would  bring  that  ancient  and  long-lived  person — the  oldest  man 
that  ever  lived — down  to  the  venerable  but  by  no  means  extraor- 
dinary age  of  eighty  years  and  nine  months.  This  is  the  first  time 
I  have  heard  this  theory,  and  my  astonishment  at  hearing  it  from 
the  lips  of  a  rough-looking  habitue  of  the  Nevada  plains,  seated  in 
the  midst  of  a  group  of  illiterate  Indians,  can  easily  be  imagined. 

On,  up  the  Humboldt  valley  I  continue,  now  riding  over  a 
smooth,  alkali  flat,  and  again  slavishly  trundling  through  deep  sand, 
a  dozen  snowy  mountain  peaks  round  about,  the  Humboldt  slug- 
gishly winding  its  way  through  the  alkali  plain  ;  on  past  Eye 
Patch,  to  the  right  of  which  are  more  hot  springs,  and  farther  on 
mines  of  pure  sulphur — all  these  things,  especially  the  latter,  un- 
pleasantly suggestive  of  a  certain  place  where  the  climate  is  popu- 
larly supposed  to  be  uncomfortably  warm ;  on,  past  Humboldt 
Station,  near  which  place  I  wantonly  shoot  a  poor  hai-mless  badger, 


30  FROM   SAK  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN. 

who  peers  inquisitively  out  of  his  hole  as  I  ride  piist.  There  is 
something  peculiarly  pathetic  about  the  actions  of  a  dying  bad- 
ger, and  no  sooner  has  the  thoughtless  shot  sped  on  its  mission  of 
death  than  I  am  sorry  for  doing  it. 

Going  out  of  Mill  City  next  morning  I  lose  the  way,  and  find 
myself  up  near  a  small  mining  camp  among  the  mountains  south 
of  the  railroad.  Thinking  to  regain  the  road  quickly  by  going 
across  country  through  the  sage-brush,  I  get  into  a  place  where 
that  enterprising  shrub  is  so  thick  and  high  that  I  have  to  hold 
the  bicj'cle  up  overhead  to  get  through. 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  come  to  a  railroad  section- 
house.  At  the  Chinese  bunk-house  I  find  a  lone  Celestial  who,  for 
some  reason,  is  staying  at  home.  Having  had  nothing  to  eat  or 
drink  since  six  o'clock  this  morning,  I  present  the  Chinaman  with  a 
smile  that  is  intended  to  win  his  heathen  heart  over  to  any  gastro- 
nomic scheme  I  may  propose  ;  but  smiles  are  thrown  away  on  John 
Chinaman. 

"John,  can  you  fix  me  up  something  to  eat  ?  " 

"  No  ;  Chinaman  no  savvy  whi'  man  eatee  ;  bossee  ow  on  thlack. 
Chinaman  eatee  nothing  bu'  licee  [rice]  ;  no  licee  cookee.'' 

This  sounds  pretty  conclusive  ;  nevertheless  I  don't  intend  to 
be  thus  put  off  so  easily.  There  is  nothing  particularly  beautiful 
about  a  silver  half-dollar,  but  in  the  almond-shaped  eyes  of  the 
Chinaman  scenes  of  paradisiacal  loveliness  are  nothing  compared 
to  the  dull  surface  of  a  twenty-year-old  fifty-cent  piece  ;  and  the 
jingle  of  the  silver  coins  contains  more  melody  for  Chin  Chin's 
unromantic  ear  than  a  whole  musical  festival. 

"  John,  I'll  give  you  a  couple  of  two-bit  pieces  if  you'll  get  me 
a  bite  of  something,"  I  persist.  John's  small,  black  eyes  twinkle  at 
the  suggestion  of  two-bit  pieces,  and  his  expressive  countenance 
assumes  a  commerical  air  as,  with  a  ludicrous  change  of  front,  he 
replies  : 

"  Wha' !     You  gib  me  flore  bittee,  me  gib  you  bitee  eatee  ?  " 

"That's  what  I  said,  John  ;  and  please  be  as  lively  as  possible 
about  it." 

"  All  li ;  you  gib  me  flore  bittee  me  fly  you  Meliean  plan-cae." 

"Yes,  pancakes  will  do.     Go  ahead  ! " 

Visions  of  pancakes  and  molasses  flit  before  my  hunger- 
distorted  vision  as  I  sit  outside  until  he  gets  them  ready.  In  ten 
minutes  John  calls  me  in.     On  a  tin  plate,  that  looks  as  if  it  has 


OVER  THE  DESERTS   OF  NEVADA.  31 

just  been  rescued  from  a  barrel  of  soap-grease,  reposes  a  shapeless 
mass  of  substance  resembling  putty — it  is  the  "  Melican  plan-cae  ; " 
and  the  Celestial  triumphantly  sets  an  empty  box  in  front  of  it  for 
me  to  sit  on  and  extends  his  greasy  palm  for  the  stipulated  j)rice. 
May  the  reader  never  be  ravenously  hungry  and  have  to  choose  be- 
tween a  "  Melican  plan-cae  "  and  nothing  !  It  is  simply  a  chunk  of 
tenacious  dough,  made  of  flour  and  water  only,  and  soaked  for  a 
few  minutes  in  warm  grease.  I  call  for  molasses  ;  he  doesn't  know 
what  it  is.  I  inquire  for  syrup,  thinking  he  may  recognize  my 
want  by  that  name.  He  brings  a  jar  of  thin  Chinese  catsup,  that 
tastes  something  like  Limburger  cheese  smells.  I  immediately  beg 
of  him  to  take  it  where  its  presumably  benign  influence  will  fail  to 
reach  me.  He  produces  some  excellent  cold  tea,  however,  by  the 
aid  of  which  I  manage  to  "bolt "a  portion  of  the  "plan-cae." 
One  doesn't  look  for  a  very  elegant  spread  for  fifty  cents  in  the 
Sage-brush  State;  but  this  "Melican  plan-cae "  is  the  worst  fifty- 
cent  meal  I  ever  heard  of. 

To-night  I  stay  in  Winnemucca,  the  county  seat  of  Humboldt 
County,  and  quite  a  lively  little  town  of  1,200  inhabitants.  "  What'U 
yer  have  ?  "  is  the  first  word  on  entering  the  hotel,  and  "  Won't  yer 
take  a  bottle  of  whiskey  along  ?  "  is  the  last  word  on  leaving  it  next 
morning.  There  are  Piutes  and  Piutes  camped  at  Winnemucca,  and 
in  the  morning  I  meet  a  young  brave  on  horseback  a  short  distance 
out  of  town  and  let  him  try  his  hand  with  the  bicycle.  I  wheel 
him  along  a  few  yards  and  let  him  dismount  ;  and  then  I  show 
him  how  to  mount  and  invite  him  to  try  it  himself.  He  gallantly 
makes  the  attempt,  but  springs  forward  with  too  much  euergj', 
and  over  he  topples,  with  the  bicycle  cavorting  around  on  top  of 
him.  This  satisfies  his  aboriginal  curiosity,  and  he  smiles  and 
shakes  his  head  when  I  offer  to  swap  the  bicycle  for  his  mustang. 
The  road  is  heavy  with  sand  aU  along  by  Winnemucca,  and  but 
little  riding  is  to  be  done.  The  river  rans  through  green  meadows 
of  rich  bottom-land  hereabouts  ;  but  the  meadows  soon  disappear 
as  I  travel  eastward.  Twenty  miles  east  of  Winnemucca  the  river 
and  railroad  pass  through  the  caiion  in  a  low  range  of  mountains, 
while  my  route  lies  over  the  summit.  It  is  a  steep  trundle  up  the 
mountains,  but  from  the  summit  a  broad  view  of  the  surrounding 
counti-y  is  obtained.  The  HumboldtEiveris  not  a  beautiful  stream, 
and  for  the  greater  part  of  its  length  it  meanders  through  alter- 
nate stretches  of  dreary  sage-brush  plain  and  low  sand-hills,  at  long 


OVER   THE   DESERTS    OF    NEVADA.  33 

intervals  passing  througli  a  canon  in  some  barren  mouiitain  chain. 
But  "  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view,"  and  from  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountain  pass  even  the  Humholdt  looks  beautiful.  The 
Sim  shines  on  its  waters,  giving  it  a  sheen,  and  for  many  a  mile  its 
glistening  surface  can  be  seen  winding  its  serpentine  course  through 
the  broad,  gray-looking  sage  and  gi-ease-wood  plains,  while  at  oc- 
casional intervals  narrow  patches  of  green,  in  stiiking  contrast  to 
the  surrovinding  gray,  show  where  the  hardy  mountain  grasses 
venturously  endeavor  to  invade  the  domains  of  the  autocratic  sage- 
brush. What  is  that  queer-looking  little  reptile,  half  lizard,  half 
frog,  that  scuttles  about  among  the  rocks  ?  It  is  different  from 
anything  I  have  yet  seen.  Around  the  back  of  its  neck  and  along 
its  sides,  and,  in  a  less  prominent  degree,  all  over  its  yellowish- 
gray  body,  are  small,  horn-like  protuberances  that  give  the  little 
fellow  a  very  peculiar  appearance.  Ah  !  I  know  who  he  is.  I  have 
heard  of  him,  and  have  seen  his  picture  in  books.  I  am  happy  to 
make  his  acquaintance.  He  is  "Prickey,"  the  famed  horned  toad 
of  Nevada.  On  this  mountain  spur,  between  the  Golconda  mining- 
camp  and  Iron  Point,  is  the  only  place  I  have  seen  him  on  the 
tour.  He  is  a  very  interesting  little  creature,  more  lizard  than 
frog,  perfectly  harmless  ;  and  his  little  bead-like  eyes  are  bright 
and  fascinating  as  the  eyes  of  a  rattlesnake. 

Allcali  flats  abound,  and  some  splendid  riding  is  to  be  obtained 
east  of  Iron  Point.  Just  before  darkness  closes  down  over  the  sur- 
rounding area  of  plain  and  mountain  I  reach  Stone-House  section- 
house. 

"  Yes,  I  guess  we  can  get  you  a  bite  of  something  ;  but  it  will 
be  cold,"  is  the  answer  vouchsafed  in  reply  to  my  query  about  sup- 
per. 

Being  more  concerned  these  days  about  the  quantity  of  provis- 
ions I  can  command  than  the  quality,  the  prospect  of  a  cold  supper 
arouses  no  ungrateful  emotions.  I  would  rather  have  a  four-pound 
loaf  and  a  shoulder  of  mutton  for  supper  now  than  a  smaller  quan- 
tity of  extra  choice  viands  ;  and  I  manage  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of 
my  inner  man  before  leaving  the  table.  But  what  about  a  place  to 
sleep  ?  For  some  inexplicable  reason  these  people  refuse  to  grant 
me  even  the  shelter  of  their  roof  for  the  night.  They  are  not  keep- 
ing hotel,  they  say,  which  is  quite  true  ;  they  have  a  right  to  refuse, 
even  if  it  is  twenty  miles  to  the  next  place  ;  and  they  do  refuse. 

"  There's  the  empty  Chinese  bunk-house  over  there.  You  can 
3 


34  FKOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIERAPT. 

crawl  in  there,  if  you  arn't  afeerd  of  ghosts,"  is  the  parting  remark, 
as  the  door  closes  and  leaves  me  standing,  like  an  outcast,  on  the 
dark,  barren  plain. 

A  week  ago  this  bunk-house  was  occupied  by  a  gang  of  Chinese 
railroaders,  who  got  to  quarrelling  among  themselves,  and  the 
quarrel  wound  up  in  quite  a  tragic  poisoning  affair,  that  resulted  in 
the  death  of  two,  and  nearly  killed  a  third.  The  Chinese  are 
nothing,  if  not  superstitious,  and  since  this  affair  no  Chinaman 
would  sleep  in  the  bunk -house  or  work  on  this  section ;  conse- 
quently the  building  remains  empty.  The  "  spooks  "  of  murdered 
Chinese  are  everything  but  agreeable  company  ;  nevertheless  they 
are  preferable  to  inhospitable  whites,  and  I  walk  over  to  the  house 
and  stretch  my  weary  frame  in — for  aught  I  know — the  same  bunk 
in  which,  but  a  few  days  ago,  reposed  the  ghastly  corpses  of  the 
poisoned  Celestials.  Despite  the  unsavory  memories  clinging 
around  the  place,  and  my  pillowless  and  blanketless  couch,  I  am 
soon  in  the  land  of  dreams.  It  is  scarcely  presumable  that  one 
would  be  blessed  with  rosy-hued  visions  of  pleasure  under  such 
conditions,  however,  and  near  midnight  I  awake  in  a  cold  shiver. 
The  snowy  mountains  rear  their  white  heads  up  in  the  silent  night, 
grim  and  ghostly  all  around,  and  make  the  midnight  air  chilly, 
even  in  midsummer.  I  lie  there,  trying  in  vain  to  doze  off  again, 
for  it  grows  perceptibly  cooler.  At  two  o'clock  I  can  stand  it  no 
longer,  and  so  get  up  and  strike  out  for  Battle  Mountain,  twenty 
miles  ahead. 

The  moon  has  risen  ;  it  is  two-thirds  full,  and  a  more  beautiful 
sight  than  the  one  that  now  greets  my  exit  from  the  bunk-house  it 
is  scarcely  possible  to  conceive.  Only  those  who  have  been  in  this 
inter-mountain  country  can  have  any  idea  of  a  glorious  moonlight 
night  in  the  clear  atmosphere  of  this  di-y,  elevated  region.  It  is  al- 
most as  light  as  day,  and  one  can  see  to  ride  quite  well  wherever 
the  road  is  ridable.  The  pale  moon  seems  to  fiU  the  whole  broad 
valley  with  a  flood  of  soft,  silvery  light ;  the  peaks  of  many  snowy 
mountains  loom  up  white  and  spectral ;  the  stilly  air  is  broken  by 
the  excited  yelping  of  a  pack  of  coyotes  noisily  baying  the  pale-yel- 
low author  of  all  this  loveliness,  and  the  wild,  unearthly  scream  of 
an  unknown  bird  or  animal  coming  from  some  mysterious,  undefin- 
able  quarter  completes  an  ideal  Western  picture,  a  poem,  a  dream, 
that  fully  compensates  for  the  discomforts  of  the  pi-ecedin"-  hour. 
The  inspiration  of  this  beautiful  scene  awakes  the  slumberin"-  poesy 


OVEK  THE  DESERTS   OF  NEVADA. 


35 


■within,  and  I  am  inspired  to  compose  a  poem — ^"  Moonlight  in  the 
Rockies  " — that  I  expect  some  day  to  see  the  world  go  into  raptures 
over  ! 

A  few  miles  from  the  Chinese  shanty  I  pass  a  party  of  Indians 


Ugh  !     What  is  it? 

camped  by  the  side  of  my  road.  They  are  squatting  around  the 
smouldering  embers  of  a  sage-brush  fire,  sleeping  and  dozing.  I  am 
riding  slowly  and  carefully  along  the  road  that  happens  to  be  rida- 
ble just  here,  and  am  fairly  past  them  before  being  seen.  As  I 
gradually  Vanish  in  the  moonlit  air  I  wonder  what  they  think  it 


36  FKOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

was — that  strange-looking  object  that  so  silently  and  mysteriously 
glided  past.  It  is  safe  to  -warrant  they  think  me  anything  but  flesh 
and  blood,  as  they  rouse  each  other  and  peer  at  my  shadowy  form 
disappearing  in  the  dim  distance. 

From  Battle  Mountain  my  route  leads  across  a  low  alkali 
bottom,  through  which  dozens  of  small  streams  are  flowing  to  the 
Humboldt.  Many  of  them  are  narrow  enough  to  be  jumped,  but 
not  with  a  bicycle  on  one's  shoulder,  for  under  such  conditions 
there  is  alwaiys  a  disagreeable  uncertainty  that  one  may  disastrously 
alight  before  he  gets  ready.  But  I  am  getting  tired  of  partially 
undressing  to  ford  streams  that  are  little  more  than  ditches,  every 
little  way,  and  so  I  hit  upon  the  novel  plan  of  using  the  machine 
for  a  vaulting-pole.  Beaching  it  out  into  the  centre  of  the  stream, 
I  place  one  hand  on  the  head  and  the  other  on  the  saddle,  and 
vault  over,  retaining  my  hold  as  I  alight  on  the  opposite  shore. 
Pulling  the  bicycle  out  after  me,  the  thing  is  done.  There  is  no 
telling  to  what  uses  this  two-wheeled  "  creature "  could  be  put 
in  case  of  necessity.  Certainly  the  inventor  never  expected  it  to 
be  used  for  a  vaulting-pole  in  leaping  across  streams.  Twenty-five 
miles  east  of  Battle  Mountain  the  valley  of  the  Humboldt  vridens 
into  a  plain  of  some  size,  through  which  the  river  meanders  with 
many  a  horseshoe  curve,  and  maps  out  the  pot-hooks  and  hangers 
of  our  childhood  days  in  mazy  profusion.  Amid  these  innumerable 
curves  and  counter-curves,  clumps  of  willows  and  tall  blue-joint 
reeds  grow  thickly,  and  afibrd  shelter  to  thousands  of  pelicans,  that 
here  make  their  homes  far  from  the  disturbing  presence  of  man. 
All  unconscious  of  impending  difficulties,  I  follow  the  wagon  trail 
leading  through  this  valley  until  I  find  myself  standing  on  the  ed"-e 
of  the  river,  ruefully  looking  around  for  some  avenue  by  which  I 
can  proceed  on  my  way.  I  am  in  the  bend  of  a  horseshoe  curve, 
and  the  only  way  to  get  out  is  to  retrace  my  footsteps  for  several 
miles,  which  disagreeable  performance  I  naturally  feel  somewhat 
opposed  to  doing.  Casting  about  me  I  discover  a  couple  of  old 
fence-posts  that  have  fioated  down  from  the  Be-o-wa-we  settlement 
above  and  lodged  against  the  bank.  I  determine  to  try  and  uti- 
lize them  in  getting  the  machine  across  the  river,  which  is  not  over 
thirty  yards  wide  at  this  point.  .  Swimming  across  with  my  clothes 
first,  I  tie  the  bicycle  to  the  fence-posts,  which  barely  keep  it  from 
sinking,  and  manage  to  navigate  it  successfully  across.  The  village 
of  Be-o-wa-we  is  full  of  cowboys,  who  are  preparing  for  the  annual 


OVER   THE   DESERTS    OF   NEVADA.  37 

spring  round-up.  Whites,  Indians,  and  Mexicans  compose  the 
motley  crowd.  They  look  a  wild  lot,  with  their  bear- skin  chaparejos 
and  semi-civiUzed  trappings,  galloping  to  and  fro  in  and  about  the 
village.  "I  can't  spare  the  time,  or  I  would,"  is  my  slightly  un- 
truthful answer  to  an  invitation  to  stop  over  for  the  day  and  have 
some  fun.  Briefly  told,  this  latter,  with  the  cowboy,  consists  in 
getting  hilariously  drunk,  and  then  turning  his  "  pop "  loose  at 
anything  that  happens  to  strike  his  whiskey-bedevilled  fancy  as  pre- 
senting a  fitting  target.  Now  a  bicycle,  above  all  things,  would 
intrude  itself  upon  the  notice  of  a  cowboy  on  a  "  tear  "  as  a  peculiar 
and  conspicuous  object,  especially  if  it  had  a  man  on  it ;  so  after 
taking  a  "  smile  "  with  them  for  good-feUowship,  and  showing  them 
the  modus  operandi  of  riding  the  wheel,  I  consider  it  wise  to  push 
on  up  the  vallej'. 

Three  miles  from  Be-o-wa-we  is  seen  the  celebrated  "Maiden's 
Grave,"  on  a  low  hill  or  bluff  by  the  road-side  ;  and  "  thereby  hangs 
a  tale."  In  early  daj'S,  a  party  of  emigrants  wei-e  camped  near  by 
at  Gravelly  Ford,  waiting  for  the  waters  to  subside,  so  that  they 
could  cross  the  river,  when  a  young  woman  of  the  party  sickened 
and  died.  A  rudely  carved  head  board  was  set  up  to  mark  the  spot 
where  she  was  buried.  Years  afterward,  when  the  railroad  was 
being  built  through  here,  the  men  discovered  this  rude  head-board 
all  alone  on  the  bleak  hill-top,  and  were  moved  by  worthy  sentiment 
to  build  a  rough  stone  wall  around  it  to  keep  off  the  ghoulish  coy- 
otes ;  and,  later  on,  the  superintendent  of  the  division  erected  a 
large  white  cross,  which  now  stands  in  plain  view  of  the  railroad. 
On  one  side  of  the  cross  is  written  the  simple  inscription,  "  Maid- 
en's Grave  ;"  on  the  other,  her  name,  "Lucinda  Duncan."  Leav- 
ing the  bicycle  by  the  road-side,  I  climb  the  steep  bluff  and  examine 
the  spot  with  some  curiosity.  There  are  now  twelve  other  graves 
beside  the  original  "  Maiden's  Grave,"  for  the  people  of  Be-o-wa-we 
and  the  surrounding  country  have  selected  this  romantic  spot  on 
which  to  inter  the  remains  of  their  departed  friends.  This  after- 
noon I  follow  the  river  through  Humboldt  Canon  in  preference  to 
taking  a  long  circuitous  route  over  the  mountains.  The  first  no- 
ticeable things  about  this  cation  are  the  peculiar  water-marks  plainly 
visible  on  the  walls,  high  up  above  where  the  water  could  possibly 
rise  while  its  present  channels  of  escape  exist  unobstructed.  It  is 
thought  that  the  country  east  of  the  spur  of  the  Red  Range,  which 
stretches  clear  across  the  valley  at  Be-o-wa-we,  and  through  which 


38  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

the  Humboldt  seems  to  have  cut  its  way,  was  formerly  a  lake,  and 
that  the  water  gradually  wore  a  passage-way  for  itself  through  the 
massive  barrier,  leaving  only  the  high-water  marks  on  the  moun- 
tain sides  to  tell  of  the  mighty  change.  In  this  canon  the  rocky 
walls  tower  like  gigantic  battlements,  grim  and  gloomy  on  either 
side,  and  the  seething,  boiling  waters  of  the  Humboldt — that  for 
once  awakens  from  its  characteristic  lethargy,  and  madly  plunges 
and  splutters  over  a  bed  of  jagged  rocks  which  seem  to  have  been 
tossed  into  its  channel  by  some  Herculean  hand — fill  this  mighty 
"rift  "in  the  mountains  with  a  never-ending  roar.  It  has  been 
threatening  rain  for  the  last  two  hours,  and  now  the  first  peal  of 
thunder  I  have  heard  On  the  whole  journey  awakens  the  echoing 
voices  of  the  canon  and  rolls  and  rumbles  along  the  great  jagged 
fissure  like  an  angry  monster  muttering  his  mighty  wrath.  Peal 
after  peal  follow  each  other  iu  quick  succession,  the  vigorous,  new- 
born echoes  of  one  peal  seeming  angrily  to  chase  the  receding 
voices  of  its  predecessor  from  cliff  to  cliflf,  and  from  recess  to  pro- 
jection, along  its  rocky,  erratic  course  up  the  canon.  Vivid  flashes 
of  forked  lightning  shoot  athwart  the  heavy  black  cloud  that  seems 
to  rest  on  either  wall,  roofing  the  canon  with  a  ceiling  of  awful 
grandeui'.  Sheets  of  electric  flame  light  up  the  dark,  shadowy  re- 
cesses of  the  towering  rocks  as  they  play  along  the  ridges  and  hover 
on  the  mountain-tops  ;  while  large  drops  of  rain  begin  to  patter 
down,  gradually  increasing  with  the  growing  fury  of  their  battlin"* 
allies  above,  until  a  heavy,  drenching  downpour  of  rain  and  haU 
compels  me  to  take  shelter  under  an  overhanging  rock. 

At  4  P.M.  I  reach  Palisade,  a  railroad  village  situated  in  the  most 
romantic  spot  imaginable,  under  the  shadows  of  the  towerino'  pali- 
sades that  hover  above  with  a  sheltering  care,  as  if  their  special 
mission  were  to  protect  it  from  all  harm.  Evidently  these  moun- 
tains have  been  rent  in  twain  by  an  earthquake,  and  this  great 
gloomy  chasm  left  open,  for  one  can  plainly  see  that  the  two  walls 
represent  two  halves  of  what  was  once  a  solid  mountain.  Curious 
caves  are  observed  in  the  face  of  the  cliffs,  and  one,  more  conspicu- 
ous than  the  rest,  has  been  christened  "  Maggie's  Bower,"  in  honor 
of  a  beautiful  Scottish  maiden  who  with  her  parents  once  lingered 
in  a  neighboring  creek-bottom  for  some  time,  recruiting  their  stock. 
But  all  is  not  romance  and  beauty  even  in  the  glorious  palisades  of 
the  Humboldt ;  for  great,  glaring,  patent-medicine  advertisements 
are  painted  on  the  most  conspicuously  beautiful  spots  of  the  pali- 


OYER  THE  DESERTS   OF   NEVADA.  89 

sades.  Business  enterprise  is  of  course  to  be  commended  and  en- 
coui-aged  ;  but  it  is  really  annoying  that  one  cannot  let  Ms  aesthetic 
soul — that  is  constantly  yearning  for  the  sublime  and  beautiful — 
rest  in  gladsome  reflection  on  some  beautiful  object  without  at  the 
same  time  being  reminded  of  "  corns,"  and  "  biliousness,"  and  all 
the  multifarious  evils  that  flesh  is  heir  to. 

It  grows  pitchy  dark  ere  I  leave  the  canon  on  my  way  to  Carlin. 
Farther  on,  the  gorge  widens,  and  thick  underbrush  intervenes  be- 
tween the  road  and  the  river.  From  out  the  brush  I  see  peering  two 
little  round  phosphorescent  balls,  like  two  miniature  moons,  turned 
in  my  direction.  I  wonder  what  kind  of  an  animal  it  is,  as  I  trun- 
dle along  through  the  darkness,  revolver  in  hand,  ready  to  defend 
myself,  should  it  make  an  attack.  I  think  it  is  a  mountain-lion,  as 
they  seem  to  be  plentiful  in  this  part  of  Nevada.  Late  as  it  is  when 
I  reach  Carlin,  the  "  boys  "  must  see  how  a  bicycle  is  ridden,  and,  as 
there  is  no  other  place  suitable,  I  manage  to  circle  around  the  pool- 
table  in  the  hotel  bar-room  a  few  times,  nearly  scalping  myself 
against  the  bronze  chandelier  in  the  operation.  I  hasten,  however, 
to  explain  that  these  proceedings  took  place  immediately  after  my 
arrival,  lest  some  worldly  wise,  over-sagacious  person  should  be  led 
to  suspect  them  to  be  the  riotous  undertakings  of  one  who  had 
"  smiled  with  the  boys  once  too  often."  Little  riding  is  possible 
all  through  this  section  of  Nevada,  and,  in  order  to  complete  the 
forty  miles  a  day  that  I  have  rigorously  imposed  upon  myself,  I 
sometimes  get  up  and  pull  out  at  daylight.  It  is  scarce  more  than 
sunrise  when,  following  the  railroad  through  Five-mile  Canon — 
another  rift  through  one  of  the  many  mountain  chains  that  cross 
this  part  of  Nevada  in  all  directions  under  the  general  name  of  the 
Humboldt  Mountains — I  meet  with  a  startling  adventure.  I  am 
trundling  through  the  canon  alongside  the  river,  when,  rounding 
the  sharp  curve  of  a  projecting  mountain,  a  tawny  mountain  lion  is 
perceived  trotting  leisurely  along  ahead  of  me,  not  over  a  hundred 
yards  in  advance.  He  hasn't  seen  me  yet ;  he  is  perfectly  oblivious 
of  the  fact  that  he  is  in  "  the  presence."  A  person  of  ordinary  dis- 
cretion would  simply  have  revealed  his  presence  by  a  gentlemanly 
sneeze,  or  a  slight  noise  of  any  kind,  when  the  lion  would  have 
immediately  bolted  back  into  the  underbrush.  Unable  to  resist 
the  temptation,  I  fired  at  him,  and  of  course  missed  him,  as  a  person 
naturally  would  at  a  hundred  yards  with  a  bull-dog  revolver.  The 
bullet  must  have  singed  him  a  little  though,  for,  instead  of  wildly 


40  FKOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

scooting  for  the  brush,  as  I  anticipated,  he  turns  savagely  round  and 
comes  bounding  rapidly  toward  me,  and  at  twenty  paces  crouches  for 
a  spring.  Laying  his  cat-like  head  almost  on  the  ground,  his  round 
eyes  flashing  fire,  and  his  tail  angrily  waving  to  and  fro,  he  looks 
savage  and  dangerous.  Crouching  behind  the  bicycle,  I  fire  at  him 
again.  Nine  times  out  of  ten  a  person  will  overshoot  the  mark  with 
a  revolver  under  such  circumstances,  and,  being  anxious  to  avoid 
this,  I  do  the  reverse,  and  fire  too  low.  The  ball  strikes  the  ground 
just  in  front  of  his  head,  and  throws  the  sand  and  gravel  in  his 
face,  and  perhaps  in  his  wicked  round  eyes  ;  for  he  shakes  his  head, 
springs  up,  and  makes  off  into  the  brush.  I  shall  shed  blood  of 
some  sort  yet  before  I  leave  Nevada  !  There  isn't  a  day  that  I  don't 
shoot  at  something  or  other ;  and  all  I  ask  of  any  animal  is  to  come 
within  two  hundred  yards  and  I  will  squander  a  cartridge  on  him, 
and  I  never  fail  to  hit — the  ground. 

At  Elko,  where  I  take  dinner,  I  make  the  acquaintance  of  an 
individual,  rejoicing  in  the  sobriquet  of  "  Alkali  Bill,"  who  has  the 
largest  and  most  comprehensive  views  of  any  person  I  ever  met. 
He  has  seen  a  paragraph,  something  about  me  riding  round  the 
world,  and  he  considerately  takes  upon  himself  the  task  of  sum- 
ming up  the  few  trifling  obstacles  that  I  shall  encounter  on  the  way 
round : 

"There  is  only  a  small  rise  at  Sherman,"  he  rises  to  explain, 
"  and  another  still  smaller  at  the  AUeghanies  ;  all  the  balance  is 
downhill  to  the  Atlantic.  Of  course  you'll  have  to  '  boat  it '  across 
the  Frogpond  ;  then  there's  Europe — mostly  level ;  so  is  Asia,  ex- 
cept the  Himalayas — and  you  can  soon  cross  them  ;  then  you're 
all  '  hunky,'  for  there's  no  mountains  to  speak  of  in  China." 

Evidently  Alkali  Bill  is  a  person  who  points  the  finger  of  scom 
at  smaU  ideas,  and  leaves  the  bothersome  details  of  life  to  other 
and  smaUer-minded  folks.  In  his  vast  and  glorious  imagery  he 
sees  a  centaur-like  'cycler  skimming  Uke  a  frigate-bird  across  states 
and  continents,  scornfully  ignoring  sandy  deserts  and  bridgeless 
streams,  halting  for  nothing  but  oceans,  and  only  slowing  up  a 
little  when  he  runs  up  against  a  peak  that  bobs  up  its  twenty 
thousand  feet  of  snowy  grandeur  serenely  in  his  path.  What  a 
Csesar  is  lost  to  this  benighted  world,  because  in  its  blindness  it 
will  not  search  out  such  men  as  Alkali  and  ask  them  to  lead  it  on- 
ward to  deeds  of  inconceivable  greatness  !  Alkali  Bill  can  whittle 
more  chips  in  an  hour  than  some  men  could  in  a  week. 


Encounter  with  a  Mountain  Lion. 


OVER  THE  DESERTS   OF  NEVADA.  43 

Much  of  the  Humboldt  Valley,  through  which  my  road  now 
runs,  is  at  present  flooded  from  the  vast  quantities  of  water  that  are 
pouring  into  it  from  the  Euby  Range  of  mountains  now  visible  to 
the  southeast,  and  which  have  the  appearance  of  being  the  snowiest 
of  any  since  leaving  the  Sierras.  Only  yesterday  I  threatened  to 
shed  blood  before  I  left  Nevada,  and  sure  enough  my  prophecy  is 
destined  to  speedy  fulfilment.  Just  east  of  the  Osino  Canon,  and 
where  the  North  Fork  of  the  Humboldt  comes  down  from  the  north 
and  joins  the  main  stream,  is  a  stretch  of  swampy  ground  on  which 
swai-ms  of  wild  ducks  and  geese  are  paddling  about.  I  blaze  away 
at  them,  and  a  poor  inoffensive  gosling  is  no  more  ! 

While  writing  my  notes  this  evening,  in  a  room  adjoining  the 
"  bar  "  at  Halleck,  near  the  United  States  fort  of  the  same  name,  I 
overhear  a  boozy  soldier  modestly  informing  his  comrades  that 
forty-five  miles  an  hour  is  no  unusual  speed  to  travel  with  a  bi- 
cycle. 

Gradually  I  am  nearing  the  source  of  the  Humboldt,  and  at  the 
town  of  Wells  I  bid  it  farewell  for  good.  Wells  is  named  from  a 
group  of  curious  springs  near  the  town.  They  are  supposed  to  be 
extinct  volcanoes,  now  filled  with  water  ;  and  report  says  that  no 
sounding-liue  hasyet  been  found  long  enough  to  fathom  the  bottom. 
Some  day  when  some  poor,  unsuspecting  tenderfoot  is  peering  in- 
quisitively down  one  of  these  well-like  springs,  the  volcano  may 
suddenly  come  into  play  again  and  convert  the  water  into  steam  that 
win  shoot  him  clear  up  into  the  moon  !  These  volcanoes  may 
have  been  soaking  in  water  for  millions  of  years  ;  but  they  are  not 
to  be  trusted  on  that  account ;  they  can  be  depended  upon  to  fill 
some  citizen  full  of  lively  surprise  one  of  these  days.  Everything 
here  is  surprising !  You  look  across  the  desert  and  see  flowing 
water  and  waving  trees  ;  but  when  you  get  there,  with  your  tongue 
hanging  out  and  your  fate  wellnigh  sealed,  you  are  surprised  to 
find  nothing  but  sand  and  rocks.  You  climb  a  mountain  expecting 
to  find  trees  and  birds'  eggs,  and  you  are  surprised  to  find  high- 
water  marks  and  sea-shells.  Finally,  you  look  in  the  looking-glass 
and  are  surprised  to  find  that  the  wind  and  exposure  have  trans- 
formed your  nice  blonde  complexion  to  a  semi-sable  hue  that  would 
prevent  your  own  mother  from  recognizing  you. 

The  next  day,  when  nearing  the  entrance  to  Montella  Pass,  over 
the  Goose  Creek  Range,  I  happen  to  look  across  the  mingled  sage- 
brush and  juniper-spruce  brush  to  the  right,  and  a  sight  greets  my 


44  FKOM   SAW   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEI4AN. 

eyes  that  causes  me  to  iustinctively  look  around  for  a  tall  tree, 
though  well  knowing  that  there  is  nothing  of  the  kind  for  miles  ; 
neither  is  there  any  ridable  road  near,  or  I  might  try  my  hand  at 
breaking  the  record  for  a  few  miles.  Standing  bolt  upright  on  their 
hind  legs,  by  the  side  of  a  clump  of  juniper-spruce  bushes  and  in- 
tently watching  my  movements,  are  a  pair  of  full-grown  cinnamon 
bears.  When  a  bear  sees  a  man  before  the  man  happens  to  descry 
him,  and  fails  to  betake  himself  off  immediately,  it  signifies  that  he 
is  either  spoiling  for  a  fight  or  doesn't  care  a  continental  password 
whether  war  is  declared  or  not.  Moreover,  animals  recognize  the 
peculiar  advantages  of  two  to  one  in  a  fight  equally  with  their  human 
inferi — superiors  ;  and  those  two  over  there  are  apparently  in  no  par- 
ticular hurry  to  move  on.  They  don't  seem  awed  at  my  presence.  On 
the  contrary',  they  look  suspiciously  like  being  undecided  and  hesi- 
tative about  whether  to  let  me  proceed  peacefully  on  my  way  or  not. 
Their  behavior  is  outrageous  ;  they  stare  and  stare  and  stare,  and 
look  quite  ready  for  a  fight.  I  don't  intend  one  to  come  off,  though, 
if  I  can  avoid  it.  I  prefer  to  have  it  settled  by  arbitration.  I  haven't 
lost  these  bears  ;  they  aren't  mine,  and  I  don't  want  anything  that 
doesn't  belong  to  me.  I  am  not  covetous  ;  so,  lest  I  should  be 
tempted  to  shoot  at  them  if  I  come  within  the  regulation  two  hun- 
dred yards,  I  "  edge  off"  a  few  hundred  yards  in  the  other  direction, 
and  soon  have  the  intense  satisfaction  of  seeing  them  stroU  off  toward 
the  mountains.  I  wonder  if  I  don't  owe  my  escape  on  this  occasion 
to  my  bicycle  ?  Do  the  bright  spokes  glistening  in  the  sunlight  as 
they  revolve  make  an  impression  on  their  bearish  intellects  that 
iufluences  their  decision  in  favor  of  a  retreat.  It  is  perhaps  need- 
less to  add  that,  aU  through  this  mountain-pass,  I  keep  a  loose  eye 
busily  employed  looking  out  for  bears. 

But  nothing  more  of  a  bearish  nature  occurs,  and  the  early 
gloaming  finds  me  at  Tacoma,  a  village  near  the  Utah  boundary 
line.  There  is  an  awful  calamity  of  some  sort  hovering  over  this 
village.  One  can  feel  it  La  the  air.  The  habitues  of  the  hotel  bar- 
room sit  around,  listless  and  glum.  When  they  speak  at  all  it  is  to 
predict  all  sorts  of  difficulties  for  me  in  my  progress  through  Utah 
and  Wyoming  Territories.  "  The  black  gnats  of  the  Salt  Lake  mud 
flat'lleat  you  clean  up,"  snarls  one.  "  Bear  Elver's  floodin"-  the  hull 
kintry  up  Weber  Canon  way,"  growls  another.  "  The  slickest  thin'v 
you  kin  do,  stranger,  is  to  board  the  keers  and  git  out  of  this  " 
says  a  third,  in  a  tone  of  voice  and  with  an  emphasis  that  plainly  in- 


OVER  THE   DESERTS   OF  NEVADA.  45 

dicates  his  great  disgust  at  "  this."  By  "  tliis  "  he  means  the  village 
of  Tacoma  ;  and  he  is  disgusted  with  it.  They  are  all  disgusted  ■with 
it,  and  with  the  whole  world  this  evening,  because  Tacoma  is  "  out 
of  whiskey."  Yes,  the  village  is  destitute  of  whiskey  ;  it  should 
have  arrived  yesterday,  and  hasn't  shown  up  yet ;  and  the  effect  on 
the  society  of  the  bar-room  is  so  depressing  that  I  soon  retire  to  my 
couch,  to  dream  of  Utah's  strange  intermingling  of  forbidding  de- 
serts and  beautiful  orchards  through  which  my  route  now  leads 


CHAPTER  in. 

THROUGH  MORMON-LAND  AND  OVER  THE  ROCKIES. 

A  DEEAET-LOOKING  countrj  is  tlie  "  Great  American  Desert,"  in 
.  Utah,  the  northern  boundary  line  of  which  I  traverse  next  morning. 
To  the  left  of  the  road  is  a  low  chain  of  barren  hills  ;  to  the  right, 
the  uninviting  plain,  over  which  one's  eye  wanders  in  vain  for  some 
green  object  that  might  raise  hopes  of  a  less  desolate  region  be- 
yond ;  and  over  all  hangs  an  oppressive  silence — the  silence  of  a 
dead  country — a  country  destitute  of  both  animal  and  vegetable 
life.  Over  the  great  desert  hangs  a  smoky  haze,  out  of  which 
Pilot  Peak,  thirty-eight  miles  away,  rears  its  conical  head  2,500 
feet  above  the  level  plain  at  its  base. 

Some  riding  is  obtained  at  intervals  along  this  unattractive 
stretch  of  country,  but  there  are  no  continuously  ridable  stretches, 
and  the  principal  incentive  to  mount  at  all  is  a  feeling  of  disgust 
at  so  much  compulsory  walking.  A  noticeable  feature  through  the 
desert  is  the  almost  unquenchable  thirst  that  the  dry  saline  air  in- 
flicts upon  one.  Reaching  a  railway  section-house,  I  find  no  one 
at  home  ;  but  there  is  a  small  underground  cistern  of  imported 
water,  in  which  "wrigglers ''  innumerable  wriggle,  but  which  is 
otherwise  good  and  cool.  There  is  nothing  to  drink  out  of,  and  the 
water  is  three  feet  from  the  surface  ;  while  leaning  down  to  try  and 
drink,  the  wooden  framework  at  the  top  gives  way  and  precipitates 
me  head  first  into  the  water.  Luckily,  the  tank  is  large  enough  to 
enable  me  to  turn  round  and  reappear  at  the  surface,  head  first,  and 
with  considerable  difficulty  I  scramble  out  again,  with,  of  coui-se, 
not  a  dry  thread  on  me. 

At  three  in  the  afternoon  I  roll  into  Terrace,  a  small  Mormon 
town.  Here  a  rather  tough-looking  citizen,  noticing  that  my  gar- 
ments are  damp,  suggests  that  'cycling  must  be  hard  work  to  make 
a  person  perspire  like  that  in  this  dry  climate.  At  the  Matlin  sec- 
tion-house I  find  accommodation  for  the  night  v?ith  a  whole-souled 
section-house  foreman,  who  is  keeping  bachelor's  hall  temporarily, 
as  his  wife  is  away  on  a  visit  at  Ogden.     From  this  house,  which  is 


THROUGH   MORMON-LAND   AND   OVER  THE  ROCKIES.     47 

situated  on  the  table-land  of  the  Red  Dome  Mountains,  can  be  ob- 
tained a  more  comprehensive  view  of  the  Great  American  Desert 
than  when  we  last  beheld  it.  It  has  all  the  appearance  of  being  the 
dry  bed  of  an  ancient  salt  lake  or  inland  sea.  A  broad,  level  plain 
of  white  alkali,  which  is  easily  mistaken  in  the  dim  distance  for 
smooth,  still  water,  stretches  away  like  a  dead,  motionless  sea  as  far 
as  human  vision  can  penetrate,  until  lost  in  the  haze  ;  while,  here 
and  there,  isolated  rocks  lift  their  rugged  heads  above  the  dreary 
level,  like  islets  out  of  the  sea.  It  is  said  there  are  many  evidences 
that  go  to  prove  this  desert  to  have  once  been  covered  by  the  waters 
of  the  great  inland  sea  that  still,  in  places,  laves  its  eastern  borders 
with  its  briny  flood.  I  am.  informed  there  are  many  miles  of  smooth, 
hard,  salt-flats,  over  which  a  'cycler  could  skim  like  a  bird  ;  but  I 
scarcely  think  enough  of  bird-like  skimming  to  go  searching  for  it 
on  the  American  Desert.  A  few  miles  east  of  Matlin  the  road  leads 
over  a  spur  of  the  Red  Dome  Eange,  from  whence  I  obtain  my  first 
view  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  and  soon  I  am  enjoying  a  long-antici- 
pated bath  in  its  briny  waters.  It  is  disagreeably  cold,  but  other- 
wise an  enjoyable  bath.  One  can  scarce  sink  beneath  the  surface, 
so  strongly  is  the  water"  impregnated  with  salt. 

For  dinner,  I  reach  Kelton,  a  town  that  formerly  prospered  as 
the  point  from  which  vast  quantities  of  freight  were  shipped  to 
Idaho.  Scores  of  huge  freight-wagons  are  now  bunched  up  in  the 
corrals,  having  outUved  their  usefulness  since  the  innovation  from 
mules  and  "  overland  ships  "  to  locomotives  on  the  Utah  Northern 
Railway.  Empty  stores  and  a  general  air  of  vanished  i^rosperity 
are  the  main  features  of  Kelton  to-day  ;  and  the  inhabitants  seem 
to  reflect  in  their  persons  the  aspect  of  the  town  ;  most  of  them 
being  freighters,  who,  finding  their  occupation  gone,  hang  listlessly 
around,  as  though  conscious  of  being  fit  for  nothing  else.  From 
Kelton  I  follow  the  lake  shore,  and  at  six  in  the  afternoon  arrive  at 
the  salt-works,  near  Monument  Station,  and  apply  for  accommoda- 
tion, which  is  readily  given.  Here  is  erected  a  wind-mill,  which 
pumps  the  water  from  the  lake  into  shallow  reservoirs,  where  it 
evaporates  and  leaves  a  layer  of  coarse  salt  on  the  bottom.  These 
people  drink  water  that  is  disagreeably  brackish  srnd  unsatisfactory 
to  one  unaccustomed  to  it,  but  which  they  say  has  become  more 
acceptable  to  them,  from  habitual  use,  than  purely  fresh  water. 
This  spot  is  the  healthiest  and  most  favorable  for  the  prolific  pro- 
duction of  certain  forms  of  insect  hfe  I  ever  was  in,  and  I  spend 


48  FEOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

the  liveliest  night  here  I  ever  spent  anyvfhere.  These  people  pro- 
fessed to  give  me  a  bed  to  myself,  but  no  sooner  have  I  laid  my 
head  on  the  pillow  than  I  recognize  the  ghastly  joke  they  are 
playing  on  me.  The  bed  is  already  densely  populated  with  guests, 
who  naturally  object  to  being  ousted  or  overcrowded.  They  seem 
quite  a  kittenish  and  playful  lot,  rather  inclined  to  accomplish  their 
ends  by  playing  wild  pranks  than  by  resorting  to  more  austere 
measures.  Watching  tiU.  I  have  closed  my  eyes  in  an  attempt  to 
doze  off,  they  slip  up  and  playfully  tickle  me  under  the  chin,  or 
scramble  around  in  my  ear,  and  anon  they  wildly  chase  each  other 
up  and  down  my  back,  and  play  leap-frog  and  hide-and-go-seek  all 
over  my  sensitive  form,  so  that  I  arise  in  the  morning  anything  but 
refreshed  from  my  experience. 

Still  following  the  shores  of  the  lake,  for  several  miles,  my  road 
now  leads  over  the  northern  spur  of  the  Promontory  Mountains. 
On  these  hiUs  I  find  a  few  miles  of  hard  gravel  that  affords  the 
best  riding  I  have  experienced  in  Utah,  and  I  speed  along  as  rapidly 
as  possible,  for  dark,  threatening  clouds  are  gathering  overhead. 
But  ere  I  reach  the  summit  of  the  ridge  a  violent  thunder-storm 
breaks  over  the  hills,  and  I  seem  to  be  verily  hobnobbing  with  the 
thunder  and  lightning,  that  appears  to  be  round  about  me,  rather 
than  overhead.  A  troop  of  wild  bronchos,  startled  and  stampeded 
by  the  vivid  lightning  and  sharp  peals  of  thunder,  come  wildly 
charging  down  the  mountain  trail,  threatening  to  run  quite  over 
me  in  their  mad  career.  PuUing  my  six-shooter,  I  fire  a  couple  of 
shots  in  the  air  to  attract  their  attention,  when  they  rapidly  swerve 
to  the  left,  and  go  tearing  frantically  over  the  rolling  hills  on  their 
wild  flight  to  the  plains  below. 

Most  of  the  rain  falls  on  the  plain  and  in  the  lake,  and  when  I 
arrive  at  the  summit  I  pause  to  take  a  view  at  the  lake  and  sur- 
rounding country.  A  more  auspicious  occasion  could  scarcely 
Jiave  been  presented.  The  storm  has  subsided,  and  far  beneath 
my  feet  a  magnificent  rainbow  spans  the  plain,  and  dips  one  end 
of  its  variegated  beauty  in  the  sky-blue  waters  of  the  lake.  From 
this  point  the  view  to  the  west  and  south  is  truly  grand — rugged, 
irregular  mountain-chains  traverse  the  country  at  every  conceivable 
angle,  and  around -among  them  winds  the  lake,  filling  with  its  blue 
waters  the  intervening  spaces,  and  reflecting,  impartially  alike,  their 
grand  majestic  beauty  and  their  faults.  What  dreams  of  empire 
and  white-winged  commerce  on  this  inland  sea  must  fill  the  mind 


A  Stampede  of  Wild  Mustangs, 


so  FKOM    SAN    FKANCISCO   TO   TEIIEEAW. 

and  fire  the  imagery  of  tlie  newly  arrived  Mormon  convert  v^lio, 
standing  on  tlie  commanding  summit  of  these  mountains,  feasts  his 
eyes  on  the  glorious  panOTama  of  blue  water  and  rugged  moun- 
tains that  is  spread  like  a  wondrous  picture  before  him  !  Surely, 
if  he  be  devotionally  inclined,  it  fails  not  to  recall  to  his  mind  an- 
other inland  sea  in  far-off  Asia  Minor,  on*  whose  pebbly  shores  and 
by  whose  rippling  waves  the  cradle  of  an  older  rehgion  than  Mor- 
monism  was  rocked — but  not  rocked  to  sleep. 

Ten  miles  farther  on,  from  the  vantage-ground  of  a  pass  over 
another  spur  of  the  same  range,  is  obtained  a  widely  extended 
view  of  the  country  to  the  east.  For  nearly  thirty  miles  from  the 
base  of  the  mountains,  low,  level  mud-flats  extend  eastward,  bor- 
dered on  the  south  by  the  marshy,  sinuous  shores  of  the  lake,  and 
on  the  north  by  the  Blue  Creek  Mountains.  Thirty  miles  to  the 
east — looking  from  this  distance  strangely  like  flocks  of  sheep 
grazing  at  the  base  of  the  mountains — can  be  seen  the  white- 
painted  houses  of  the  Mormon  settlements,  that  thickly  dot  the 
narrow  but  fertile  strip  of  agricultural  land  between  Bear  River 
and  the  mighty  Wahsatch  Mountains,  that,  rearing  their  snowy 
crest  skyward,  shut  out  all  view  of  what  lies  beyond.  From  this 
height  the  level  mud-flats  appear  as  if  one  could  mount  his  wheel 
and  bowl  across  at  a  ten-mile  pace  ;  but  I  shall  be  agreeably  sur- 
prised if  I  am  able  to  aggregate  ten  miles  of  riding  out  of  the 
thirty.  Immediately  after  getting  down  into  the  bottom  I  make 
the  acquaintance  of  the  tiny  black  gnats  that  one  of  our  whiskey- 
bereaved  friends  at  Tacoma  had  warned  me  against.  One's  head 
is  constantly  enveloped  in  a  black  cloud  of  these  little  wretches. 
They  are  of  infinitesimal  proportions,  and  get  into  a  person's 
ears,  eyes,  and  nostrils,  and  if  one  so  far  forgets  himself  as  to  open 
his  mouth,  they  swarm  in  as  though  they  think  it  the  "  pearly  gates 
ajar,"  and  this  their  last  chance  of  effecting  an  entrance.  Mingled 
with  them,  and  apparently  on  the  best  of  terms,  are  swarms  of 
mosquitoes,  which  appear  perfect  Jumbos  in  comparison  with  their 
disreputable  associates. 

As  if  partially  to  recompense  me  for  the  torments  of  the  after- 
noon, Dame  Fortune  considerately  provides  me  with  two  separate 
and  distinct  suppers  this  evening.  I  had  intended,  when  I  left 
Promontory  Station,  to  reach  Corinne  for  the  night ;  consequently 
I  bring  a  lunch  with  me,  knowing  it  will  take  me  till  late  to  reach 
there.     These  days,  I  am  troubled  with  an  appetite  that  makes  me 


TIIUOUGn    MOEMON-LAND    AND    OVER  THE   EOCKIES.    51 

blush  to  speak  of  it,  and  about  five  o'clock  I  sit  down — on  the 
bleacbed  skeleton  of  a  defunct  mosquito  ! — and  proceed  to  eat  my 
lunch  of  bread  and  meat — and  gnats  ;  for  I  am  quite  certain  of 
eating  hundreds  of  these  omnipresent  creatures  at  every  bite  I 
take.  Two  hours  afterward  I  am  passing  Quarry  section-house, 
when  the  foreman  beckons  me  over  and  generously  invites  me  to 
remain  over  night.  He  brings  out  canned  oysters  and  bottles  of 
Milwaukee  beei',  and  insists  on  my  helping  him  discuss  these  ac- 
ceptable viands  ;  to  which  invitation  it  is  needless  to  say  I  yield 
without  extraordinary  pressure,  the  fact  of  having  eaten  two  hours 
before  being  no  obstacle  whatever.  So  much  for  'cychng  as  an  aid 
to  digestion.  Arriving  at  Corinne,  on  Bear  Eiver,  at  ten  o'clock 
next  morning,  I  am  accosted  by  a  bearded,  patriarchal  Moi-mon, 
who  requests  me  to  constitute  myself  a  parade  of  one,  and  ride 
the  bicycle  around  the  town  for  the  edification  of  the  people's 
minds. 

"  In  coui^se  they  knows  what  a  '  perlocefede  '  is,  from  seein'  'em 
in  picturs  ;  but  they  never  seed  a  real  machine,  and  it'd  be  a 
'  hefty '  treat  fer  'em,"  is  the  eloquent  appeal  made  by  this  person 
in  behalf  of  the  Corinnethians,  over  whose  destinies  and  happiness 
he  appears  to  preside  with  fatherly  solicitude.  As  the  streets  of 
Corinne  this  morning  consist  entirely  of  black  mud  of  uncertaiil 
depth,  I  am  reluctantly  compelled  to  say  the  elder  nay,  at  the  same 
time  promising  him  that  if  he  would  have  them  in  better  condition 
next  time  I  happened  around,  I  would  willingly  second  his  brilHant 
idea  of  making  the  people  happy  by  permitting  them  a  glimpse  of 
my  "  perlocefede  "  in  action. 

After  crossing  Bear  Eiver  I  find  myself  on  a  somewhat  superior 
road  leading  through  the  Mormon  settlements  to  Ogden.  No 
greater  contrast  can  well  be  imagined  than  that  presented  by  this 
strip  of  country  lying  between  the  lake,  and  the  Wahsatch  Moun- 
tains, and  the  desert  country  to  the  westward.  One  can  almost 
fancy  himself  suddenly  transported  by  some  good  genii  to  a  quiet 
farmin"'  community  in  an  Eastern  State.  Instead  of  untamed 
bronchos  and  wild-eyed  cattle,  roaming  at  their  own  fi-ee  will  over 
unlimited  tenitory,  are  seen  staid  work-horses  ploughing  in  the  field, 
and  the  sleek  milch-cow  peacefully  cropping  tame  grass  in  en- 
closed meadows.  Birds  are  singing  merrily  in  the  willow  hedges 
and  the  shade-trees  ;  green  fields  of  alfalfa  and  ripening  grain  line 
the  road  and  spread  themselves  over  the  surrounding  country  in 


52  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

alternate  squares,  like  those  of  a  vast  checker-board.  Farms,  on 
the  average,  are  small,  and,  consequently,  houses  are  thick  ;  and 
not  a  farm-house  among  them  all  but  is  embowered  in  an  orchard 
of  fruit  and  shade-trees  that  mingle  their  green  leaves  and  white 
blossoms  harmoniously.  At  noon  I  roU  into  a  forest  of  fmiit-trees, 
among  which,  I  am  informed,  WiUard  City  is  situated  ;  but  one 
can  see  nothing  of  any  city.  Nothing  but  thickets  of  peach,  plum, 
and  apple  trees,  aU  in  full  bloom,  surround  the  spot  where  I  alight 
and  begin  to  look  aroimd  for  some  indications  of  the  city.  "Where 
is  "WUlard  City?  "  I  inquire  of  a  boy  who  comes  out  from  one  of 
the  orchards  carrying  a  can  of  kerosene  in  his  hand,  suggestive  of 
having  just  come  from  a  grocery,  and  so  he  has.  "  This  is  Wil- 
lard  City,  right  here,''  replies  the  boy  ;  and  then,  in  response  to  my 
inquiry  for  the  hotel,  he  points  to  a  small  gate  .leading  into  an 
orchard,  and  tells  me  the  hotel  is  in  there. 

The  hotel — like  every  other  house  and  store  here — is  embow- 
ered amid  an  orchard  of  blooming  fruit-trees,  and  looks  like  any- 
thing but  a  public  eating-house.  No  sign  up,  nothiag  to  distin- 
guish it  from  a  private  dwelling  ;  and  I  am  ushered  into  a  nicely 
furnished  parlor,  on  the  neatly  papered  walls  of  which  hang  en- 
larged portraits  of  Brigham  Young  and  other  Mormon  celebrities, 
while  a  large-sized  Mormon  bible,  expensively  bound  in  morocco, 
reposes  on  the  centre-table.  A  charming  Miss  of  — teen  summers 
presides  over  a  private  table,  on  which  is  spread  for  my  material 
benefit  the  finest  meal  I  have  eaten  since  leaving  California.  Such 
snow-white  bread  !  Such  delicious  butter  !  And  the  exquisite  flavor 
of  "  spiced  peach-butter  "  lingers  in  my  fancy  even  now  ;  and  as  if 
this  were  not  enough  for  "  two  bits  "  (a  fifty  per  cent,  come-down 
from  usual  rates  in  the  mountains),  a  splendid  bouquet  of  flowers  is 
set  on  the  table  to  round  off  the  repast  with  their  grateful  perfume. 
As  I  enjoy  the  wholesome,  substantial  food,  I  fall  to  musLag  on  the 
mighty  chasm  that  intervenes  between  the  elegant  meal  now  be- 
fore me  and  the  "  Melican  plan-cae  "  of  two  weeks  ago. 

"  You  have  a  remarkably  pleasant  country  here,  Miss,"  I  venture 
to  remark  to  the  young  lady  who  has  presided  ovfer  my  table,  and 
whom  I  judge  to  be  the  daughter  of  the  house,  as  she  comes  to  the 
door  to  see  the  bicycle. 

"  Yes  ;  we  have  made  it  pleasant  by  planting  so  many  orchards  '' 
she  answers,  demurely. 

"  I  should  think  the  Mormons  ought  to  be  contented,  for  they 


54  FROM   SAiSr   FEANCISCO   TO   TEIIEUAN. 

possess  the  only  good  piece  of  farming  country  between  California 
and  'the  States,'"  I  blunderingly  continued. 

"I  never  heard  anyone  say  they  are  not  contented,  but  their 
enemies,"  replies  this  fair  and  yaliant  champion  of  Mormonism  in 
a  voice  that  shows  she  quite  misunderstands  my  meaning. 

"What  I  intended  to  say  was,  that  the  Mormon  people  are  to 
be  highly  congTatulated  on  their  good  sense  in  settling  here,"  I  has- 
ten to  explain  ;  for  were  I  to  leave  at  this  house,  where  my  treat- 
ment has  been  so  gratifying,  a  shadow  of  prejudice  against  the  Mor- 
mons, I  should  feel  like  kicking  myself  all  over  the  Territory.  The 
women  of  the  Mormon  religion  are  instructed  by  the  \viseacres  of 
the  church  to  win  over  strangers  by  kind  treatment  and  by  the 
charm  of  their  conversation  and  graces ;  and  this  young  lady  has 
learned  the  lesson  well ;  she  has  graduated  with  high  honors. 
Coming  from  the  barren  deserts  of  Nevada  and  Western  Utah — from 
the  land  where  the  irreverent  and  irrepressible  "  Old  Timer  "  fills 
the  air  with  a  sulphurous  odor  from  his  profanity  and  where  nat- 
ure is  seen  in  its  sternest  aspect,  and  then  suddenly  finding  one's 
self  literally  surrounded  by  flowers  and  conversing  with  Beauty 
about  Religion,  is  enough  to  charm  the  heart  of  a  marble  statue. 

Ogden  is  reached  for  supper,  where  I  quite  expect  to  find  a 
'cycler  or  two  (Ogden  being  a  city  of  eight  thousand  inhabitants)  ; 
but  the  nearest  approach  to  a  bicycler  in  Ogden  is  a  gentleman  who 
used  to  belong  to  a  Chicago  club,  but  who  has  failed  to  bring  his 
"  wagon  "  West  with  him.  Twelve  miles  of  alternate  riding  and 
walking  eastwardly  from  Ogden  bring  me  to  the  entrance  of  Weber 
Canon,  through  which  the  Weber  River,  the  Union  Pacific  Rail- 
road, and  an  uncertain  wagon-trail  make  theh'  way  through  the 
Wahsatch  Mountains  on  to  the  elevated  table-lands  of  Wyoming- 
Territory.  Objects  of  interest  foUow  each  other  in  quick  succes- 
sion along  this  part  of  the  journey,  and  I  have  ample  time  to  ex- 
amine them,  for  Weber  River  is  flooding  the  canon,  and  in  many 
places  has  washed  away  the  narrow  space  along  which  wagons  are 
wont  to  make  their  way,  so  that  I  have  to  trundle  slowly  along  the 
railway  track.  Now  the  road  turns  to  the  left,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes the  rugged  and  picturesque  walls  of  the  canon  are  towering  in 
imposing  heights  toward  the  clouds.  The  Weber  River  comes 
rushing— a  resistless  torrent — from  under  the  dusky  shadows  of 
the  mountains  through  which  it  runs  for  over  fifty  miles,  and  on- 
ward to  the  plain  below,  where  it  assumes  a  more  moderate  pace, 


THROUGH    MOEJCON-LAND    AND    OVER   THE    ROCKIES.    66 

as  if  conscious  tliat  it  lias  at  last  escaped  from  the  Lurrying  tur- 
moil of  its  boisterous  march  down  the  mountain. 

Advancing  into  the  yawning  jaws  of  the  range,  a  continuously 
resounding  roar  is  heard  in  advance,  which  gradually  beconies 
louder  as  I  proceed  eastward ;  in  a  short  time  the  source  of  the 
noise  is  discovered,  and  a  weird  scene  greets  my  enraptured  vision. 
At  a  place  where  the  fall  is  tremendous,  the  waters  are  opposed  in 
their  mad  march  by  a  rough-and-tumble  collection  of  huge,  jagged 
rocks,  that  have  at  some  time  detached  themselves  from  the  walls 
above,  and  come  crashing  down  into  the  bed  of  the  stream.  The 
rushing  waters,  coming  with  haste  from  above,  appear  to  pounce 
with  insane  fury  on  the  rocks  that  dare  thus  to  obstruct  their  path  ; 
and  then  for  the  next  few  moments  all  is  a  hissing,  seething,  roar- 
ing caldron  of  strife,  the  mad  waters  seeming  to  pounce  with  ever- 
increasing  fury  from  one  imperturbable  antagonist  to  another,  now 
leaping  clear  over  the  head  of  one,  only  to  dash  itself  into  a  cloud 
of  spray  against  another,  or  pour  like  a  cataract  against  its  base  in 
a  persistent,  endless  struggle  to  undermine  it ;  while  over  all  tower 
the  dark,  shadowy  rocks,  grim  witnesses  of  the  battle.  This  spot 
is  known  by  the  appropriate  name  of  "  The  Devil's  Gate." 

Wherever  the  walls  of  the  canon  recede  from  the  river's  brink,  and 
leave  a  space  of  cultivable  laud,  there  the  industrious  Mormons  have 
built  log  or  adobe  cabins,  and  converted  the  circumscribed  domain 
into  farms,  gardens,  and  orchards.  In  one  of  these  isolated  settle- 
ments I  seek  shelter  from  a  passing  shower  at  the  house  of  a  "  three- 
ply  Mormon  "  (a  Mormon  with  three  wives),  and  am  introduced  to 
his  three  separate  and  distinct  better-halves  ;  or,  rather,  one  should 
say,  "  better-quarters,"  for  how  can  any  tiling  have  three  halves?  A 
noticeable  feature  at  all  these  farms  is  the  universal  plurality  of  wom- 
en around  the  house,  and  sometimes  in  the  field.  A  familiar  scene 
in  any  farming  community  is  a  woman  out  in  the  field,  visiting  her 
husband,  or,  perchance,  assisting  him  in  his  labors.  The  same 
thing  is  observable  at  the  Mormon  settlements  along  the  Weber 
Eiver — only,  instead  of  one  woman,  there  are  generally  two  or 
three,  and  perhaps  yet  another  standing  in  the  door  of  the  house. 

Passing  through  two  tunnels  that  burrow  through  rocky  spurs 
stretching  across  the  cailon,  as  though  to  obstruct  farther  progress, 
across  the  river,  to  the  right,  is  the  "  Devil's  Slide  " — two  perpen- 
dicular walls  of  rock,  looking  strangely  like  man's  handiwork,, 
stretching  in  parallel  lines  almost  from  base  to  summit  of  a  slop- 


56  ^         FROM   SAN    FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAW. 

ing,  grass-covered  mountain.  The  walls  are  but  a  dozen  feet  apart. 
It  is  a  curious  phenomenon,  but  only  one  among  many  that  are 
scattered  at  intervals  all  through  here.  A  short  distance  farther, 
and  I  pass  the  famous  "  Thousand-mile  Tree  " — a  rugged  pine,  that 
stands  between  the  railroad  and  the  river,  and  which  has  won  re- 
nown by  springing  up  just  one  thousand  miles  from  Omaha.  This 
tree  is  having  a  tough  struggle  for  its  life  these  days  ;  one  side  of  its 
honored  trunk  is  smitten  as  with  the  leprosy.  The  fate  of  the  Thou- 
sand-mile Tree  is  plainly  sealed.  It  is  unfortunate  in  being  the 
most  conspicuous  target  on  the  line  for  the  fe-ro-ci-ous  youth  who 
comes  West  with  a  revolver  in  his  pocket  and  shoots  at  things  from 
the  car-window.  Judging  from  the  amount  of  cold  lead  contained 
in  that  side  of  its  venerable  trunk  next  the  railway  few  of  these 
thoughtless  marksmen  go  past  without  honoring  it  with  a  shot. 
Emerging  from  "  the  Narrows  "  of  Weber  Canon,  the  route  follows 
across  a  less  contracted  space  to  Echo  City,  a  place  of  two  hundred 
and  twenty-five  inhabitants,  mostly  Mormons,  where  I  remain  over- 
night. The  hotel  where  I  put  up  at  Echo  is  all  that  can  be  deeired, 
so  far  as  "  provender  "  is  concerned  ;  but  the  handsome  and  pictu- 
resque proprietor  seems  afflicted  with  sundry  eccentric  habits,  his 
leading  eccentricity  being  a  haughty  contempt  for  fractional  cur- 
rency. Not  having  had  the  opportunity  to  test  him,  it  is  difficult 
to  say  whether  this  peculiarity  works  both  ways,  or  only  when  the 
change  is  due  his  transient  guests.  However,  we  willingly  give 
him  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

Heavily  freighted  rain-clouds  are  hovering  over  the  mountains 
next  morning  and  adding  to  the  gloominess  of  the  gorge,  which, 
just  east  of  Echo  City,  contracts  again  and  proceeds  eastward  under 
the  name  of  Echo  Gorge.  Turning  around  a  bold  rocky  projection 
to  the  left,  the  far-famed  "  Pulpit  Rock  "  towers  above,  on  which 
Brigham  Young  is  reported  to  have  stood  and  preached  to  the  Mor- 
mon host  while  halting  over  Sunday  at  this  point,  during  their  pil- 
grimage to  their  new  home  in  the  Salt  Lake  Valley  below.  Had 
the  redoubtable  prophet  turned  "  dizzy  "  while  haranguing  his  fol- 
lowers from  the  elevated  pinnacle  of  his  novel  pulpit,  he  would  at 
least  have  died  a  more  romantic  death  than  he  is  accredited  with 
— from  eating  too  much  green  corn. 

Fourteen  miles  farther  brings  me  to  "  Castle  Eocks,''  a  name 
given  to  the  high  sandstone  bluffs  that  compose  the  left-hand  side 
of  the  canon  at  this  point,  and  which  have  been  worn  by  the  ele- 


THROUGH   MOEMON-LAND  AWD   OVER  THE   ROCKIES.      57 

ments  into  all  manner  of  fantastic  shapes,  many  of  them  calling  to 
mind  the  towers  and  turrets  of  some  old-world  castle  so  vividly, 
that  one  needs  but  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  old  knight-errant 
days  to  complete  the  illusion.  But,  as  one  gazes  with  admiration 
on  these  towering  buttresses  of  nature,  it  is  easy  to  realize  that  the 
most  massive  and  imposing  feudal  castle,  or  ramparts  built  with 
human  hands,  would  look  like  children's  toys  beside  them. 

The  weather  is  cool  and  bracing,  and  when,  in  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon,  I  reach  Evanston,  Wyo.  Terr.,  too  late  to  get  din- 
ner at  the  hotel,  I  proceed  to  devour  the  contents  of  a  bakery, 
filling  the  proprietor  with  boundless  astonishment  by  consuming 
about  two-thirds  of  his  stock.  When  I  get  through  eating,  he 
bluntly  refuses  to  charge  anything,  considering  himself  well  repaid 
by  having  witnessed  the  most  extraordinary  gastronomic  feat  on 
record — the  swallowing  of  two-thirds  of  a  bakery !  Following  the 
trail  down  Yellow  Creek,  I  arrive  at  Hilliard  after  dark.  The  Hil- 
liardites  are  "  somewhat  seldom,"  but  they  are  made  of  the  right 
material.  The  boarding-house  landlady  sets  about  preparing  me 
supper,  late  though  it  be  ;  and  the  "boys"  extend  me  a  hearty  in- 
vitation to  turn  in  with  them  for  the  night.  Here  at  Hilliard  is  a 
long  V-shaped  flume,  thirty  miles  long,  in  which  telegraph  poles, 
ties,  and  cordwood  are  floated  down  to  the  railroad  from  the  piner- 
ies of  the  Uintah  Mountains,  now  plainly  visible  to  the  south.  The 
"  boys "  above  referred  to  are  men  engaged  in  handling  ties  thus 
floated  dovm  ;  and  sitting  around  the  red-hot  stove,  they  make  the 
evening  jolly  with  songs  and  yarns  of  tie-drives,  and  of  wUd  rides 
down  the  long  "  V  "  flume.  A  happy,  light-hearted  set  of  feUows 
are  these  "  tie-men,"  and  not  an  evening  but  their  rude  shanty  re- 
sounds with  merriment  galore.  Fun  is  in  the  air  to-night,  and 
"  Beaver  "  (so  dubbed  on  account  of  an  unfortunate  tendency  to 
fall  into  every  hole  of  water  he  goes  anywhere  near)  is  the'  unlucky 
wight  upon  whom  the  rude  witticisms  concentrate  ;  for  he  has 
fallen  into  the  water  again  to-day,  and  is  busily  engaged  in  drying 
his  clothes  by  the  stove.  They  accuse  him  of  keeping  up  an  un- 
comfortably hot  fire,  detrimental  to  everybody's  comfort  but  his 
own,  and  threaten  him  with  dire  penalties  if  he  doesn't  let  the  room 
cool  off;  also  broadly  hinting  their  disapproval  of  his  over-fondness 
for  "Adam's  ale,"  and  threaten  to  make  him  "set  'em  up"  every 
time  he  tumbles  in  hereafter.  In  revenge  for  these  remarks, 
"  Beaver  "  piles  more  wood  into  the  stove,  and,  with  many  a  west- 


58  FEOM   SAW  FEAWCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

ernism — not  permitted  in  print — threatens  to  keep  up  a  fire  that 
will  drive  them  all  out  of  the  shanty  if  they  persist  in  their  perse- 
cutions. 

Crossing  next  day  the  low,  broad  pass  over  the  Uintah  Moun- 
tains, some  stretches  of  ridable  surface  are  passed  over,  and  at  this 
point  I  see  the  first  band  of  antelope  on  the  tour  ;  but  as  they  faU 
to  come  within  the  regulation  two  hundred  yards  they  are  graciously 
permitted  to  hve. 

At  Piedmont  Station  I  decide  to  go  around  by  way  of  Fort 
Bridger  and  strike  the  direct  trail  again  at  Carter  Station,  twenty- 
four  miles  farther  east. 


■A.   ^.r. 
■V    J- 


A  tough  bit  of  Country. 


The  next  day  at  noon  finds  me  "  tucked  in  my  little  bed "  at 
Carter,  decidedly  the  worse  for  wear,  having  experienced  the  touoh- 
est  twenty-four  hours  of  the  entu-e  journey.  I  have  to  ford  no  less 
than  nine  streams  of  ice-cold  water ;  get  benighted  on  a  rain-soaked 
adobe  plain,  where  I  have  to  sleep  out  all  night  in  an  abandoned 
freight-wagon ;  and,  after  carrying  the  bicycle  across  seven  miles 
of  deep,  sticky  clay,  I  finally  arrive  at  Carter,  looking  like  the  last 
sad  remnant  of  a  dire  calamity — having  had  nothing  to  eat  for 
twenty-four  hours.  From  Carter  my  route  leads  through  the  Bad- 
Lands,  amid  buttes  of  mingled  clay  and  rock,  which  the  elements 
have  worn  into  all  conceivable  shapes,  and  conspicuous  among  them 


TIIEOUGII   MORMON-LANX)   AND   OVER  THE  KOCKIES.       59 

can  be  seen,  to  the  south,  "  Church  Buttes,"  so  called  from  ha-ving 
been  chiselled  by  the  dexterous  hand  of  nature  into  a  group  of  domes 
and  pinnacles,  that,  from  a  distance,  strikingly  resembles  some 
magnificent  cathedral.  High-water  mai-ks  are  observable  on  these 
buttes,  showing  that  Noah's  flood,  or  some  other  aqueous  calamity 
once  happened  ai-ound  here  ;  and  one  can  easily  imagine  droves  of 
miserable,  half-clad  Indians,  perched  on  top,  looking  with  doleful, 
melancholy  expression  on  the  suiTounding  wilderness  of  waters. 
Arriving  at  Granger,  for  dinner,  I  find  at  the  hotel  a  crest-fallen 
state  of  affairs  somewhat  similar  to  the  glumness  of  Tacoma.  Ta- 
coma  had  plenty  of  customers,  but  no  whiskey  ;  Granger  on  the 
contrary  has  plenty  of  whiskey,  but  no  customers.  The  effect  on 
that  marvellous,  intangible  something,  the  saloon  proprietor's  intel- 
lect, is  the  same  at  both  places.  Here  is  plainly  a  new  field  of  re- 
search for  some  ambitious  student  of  psychology.  Whiskey  without 
customers  !  Customers  without  whiskey  !  Truly  all  is  vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit. 

Next  day  I  pass  the  world-renovyned  castellated  rocks  of  Green 
Eiver,  aud  stop  for  the  night  at  Eock  Springs,  where  the  Union 
Pacific  Railway  Company  has  extensive  coal  mines.  On  calling  for 
my  bill  at  the  hotel  here,  next  morning,  the  proprietor — a  corpu- 
lent Teuton,  whose  thoughts,  words,  aud  actions,  run  entirely  to 
■^eer— rephes,  "Twenty-five  cents  a  quart."  Thinking  my  hearing 
apparatus  is  at  fault,  I  inquire  again.  "  Twenty-five  cents  a  quart 
and  vumish  yer  own  gan."  The  bill  is  abnormally  large,  but,  as  I 
hand  over  the  amount,  a  "  loaded  schooner  "  is  shoved  under  my 
nose,  as  though  a  glass  of  beer  were  a  tranquillizing  antidote  for  all 
the  ills  of  life.  Splendid  level  alkali  flats  abound  east  of  Eock 
Springs,  and  I  bowl  across  them  at  a  lively  pace  until  they  termi- 
nate, and  my  route  follows  up  Bitter  Creek,  where  the  surface  is 
iust  the  reverse  ;  being  seamed  and  furrowed  as  if  it  had  just 
emerged  from  a  devastating  flood.  It  is  said  that  the  teamster 
who  successfully  navigated  the  route  up  Bitter  Creek,  considered 
himself  entitled  to  be  called  "  a  tough  cuss  from  Bitter  Creek,  on 
wheels,  with  a  perfect  education."  A  justifiable  regard  for  individ- 
ual rights  would  seem  to  favor  my  own  assumption  of  this  distin- 
guished title  after  traversing  the  I'oute  with  a  bicycle. 

Ten  o'clock  next  morning  finds  me  leaning  on  my  wheel,  sur- 
veying the  sceneiy  from  the  "  Continental  Divide  "—the  bactbone 
of  the  continent.     Facing  the  north,  all  waters  at  my  right  hand 


60  FROM  SAIf   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAW. 

flow  to  the  east,  and  all  on  my  left  flow  to  the  west — the  one  event- 
ually finding  their  way  to  the  Atlantic,  the  other  to  the  Pacific. 
This  spot  is  a  broad  low  pass  through  the  Eockies,  more  plain 
than  mountain,  but  from  which  a  most  commanding  view  of  nu- 
merous mountain  chains  are  obtained.  To  the  north  and  north- 
west are  the  Seminole,  Wind  Eiver,  and  Sweet- water  ranges — ^bold, 
rugged  mountain-chains,  filling  the  landscape  of  the  distant  north 
with  a  mass  of  great,  jagged,  rocky  piles,  grand  beyond  conception ; 
their  many  snowy  peaks  peopling  the  blue  ethery  space  above 
with  ghostly,  spectral  forms  well  calculated  to  inspire  with  feel- 
ings of  awe  and  admiration  a  lone  cycler,  who,  standing  in 
silence  and  solitude  profound  on  the  great  Continental  Divide, 
looks  and  meditates  on  what  he  sees.  Other  hoary  monarchs 
are  visible  to  the  east,  which,  however,  we  shall  get  acquainted 
with  later  on.  Down  grade  is  the  rule  now,  and  were  there  a  good 
road,  what  an  enjoyable  coast  it  would  be,  down  from  the  Continen- 
tal Divide  !  but  half  of  it  has  to  be  walked.  About  eighteen  miles 
from  the  divide  I  am  greatly  amused,  and  not  a  little  astonished, 
at  the  strange  actions  of  a  coyote  that  comes  trotting  in  a  leisurely, 
confidential  way  toward  me ;  and  when  he  reaches  a  spot  com- 
manding a  good  view  of  my  road  he  stops  and  watches  my  move- 
ments with  an  air  of  the  greatest  inquisitiveness  and  assurance. 
He  stands  and  gazes  as  I  trundle  along,  not  over  fifty  yards  away, 
and  he  looks  so  much  like  a  well-fed  collie,  that  I  actually  feel  like 
patting  my  knee  for  him  to  come  and  make  friends.  Shoot  at  him  ? 
Certainly  not.  One  never  abuses  a  confidence  like  that.  He  can 
come  and  rub  his  sleek  coat  up  against  the  bicycle  if  he  likes,  and 
— blood-thirsty  rascal  though  he  no  doubt  is — I  will  never  fire  at 
him.  He  has  as  much  right  to  gaze  in  astonishment  at  a  bicycle  as 
anybody  else  who  never  saw  one  before. 

Staying  over  night  and  the  next  day  at  Eawlins,  I  make  the 
sixteen  miles  to  Fort  Fred  Steele  next  morning  before  breakfast, 
there  being  a  very  good  road  between  the  two  places.  This  fort 
stands  on  the  west  bank  of  North  Platte  Eiver,  and  a  few  miles 
west  of  the  river  I  ride  through  the  first  prairie-dog  town  encoun- 
tered in  crossing  the  continent  from  the  west,  though  I  shall  see 
plenty  of  these  interesting  little  fellows  during  the  next  three  hun- 
dred miles.  These  animals  sit  near  their  holes  and  excitedly  bark 
at  whatever  goes  past.  Never  before  have  they  had  an  opportunity 
to  bark  at  a  bicycle,  and  they  seem  to  be  making  the  most  of  their 


THROUGH  MORMON-LAND   AND   OVER  THE   ROCKIES.      61 

opportunity.  I  see  at  this  village  none  of  the  small  speckled  owls, 
which,  with  the  rattlesnake,  make  themselves  so  much  at  home  in 
the  prairie-dogs'  comfortable  quarters,  but  I  see  them  farther  east. 
These  three  strangely  assorted  companions  may  have  warm  affec- 
tions toward  each  other ;  but  one  is  inclined  to  think  the  great 
bond  of  sympatliy  that  binds  them  together  is  the  tender  regard 
entertained  by  the  owl  and  the  rattlesnake  for  the  nice,  tender 
young  prairie-pups  that  appear  at  intervals  to  increase  the  joys  and 
cares  of  the  elder  animals. 

I  am  now  getting  on  to  the  famous  Laramie  Plains,  and  Elk 
Mountain  looms  up  not  over  ten  mUes  to  the  south — a  solid,  towery 
mass  of  black  rocks  and  dark  pine  forests,  that  stands  out  bold  and 
distinct  from  surroundiQg  mountain  chains  as  though  some  animate 
thing  conscious  of  its  own  strength  and  superiority.  A  snow-storm 
is  raging  on  its  upper  slopes,  obscuring  that  portion  of  the  moun- 
tain ;  but  the  dark  forest-clad  slopes  near  the  base  are  in  plain  view, 
and  also  the  rugged  peak  which  elevates  its  white-crowned  head 
above  the  storm,  and  reposes  peacefully  in  the  bright  sunlight  in 
striking  contrast  to  the  warring  elements  lower  down.  I  have  heard 
old  hunters  assert  that  this  famous  "  landmark  of  the  Eockies  "  is 
hollow,  and  that  they  have  heard  wolves  howling  inside  the  moun- 
tain ;  but  some  of  these  old  western  hunters  see  and  hear  strange 
things ! 

As  I  penetrate  the  Laramie  Plains  the  persistent  sage-brash, 
that  has  constantly  hovered  around  my  path  for  the  last  thousand 
mUes,  grows  beautifully  less,  and  the  short,  nutritious  buffalo-grass 
is  creeping  everywhere.  In  Carbon,  where  I  arrive  after  dark,  I 
mention  among  other  things  in  reply  to  the  usual  volley  of  ques- 
tions, the  fact  of  having  to  foot  it  so  great  a  proportion  of  the  way 
through  the  mountain  country  ;  and  shortly  afterward,  from 
among  a  group  of  men,  I  hear  a  voice,  thick  and  husky  with  "val- 
ley tan,"  remark:  "Faith,  Oi  cud  roide  a  bicycle  meself  across 
the  counthry  av  yeez  ud  lit  me  walluk  it  afut ! "  and  straightway 
a  luminous  bunch  of  shamrocks  dangled  for  a  brief  moment  in  the 
air,  and  then  vanished.  After  passing  Medicine  Bow  Valley  and 
Como  Lake  I  find  some  good  ridable  road,  the  surface  being  hard 
gravel  and  the  plains  high  and  dry.  Beaching  the  brow  of  one  of 
those  rocky  ridges  that  hereabouts  divide  the  plains  into  so  many 
shallow  basins,  I  find  myself  suddenly  within  a  few  paces  of  a  small 
herd  of  antelope  peacefully  grazing  on  the  other  side  of  the  narrow 


62  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

ridge,  all  unconscious  of  the  presence  of  one  of  creation's  alleged 
proud  lords.  My  ever  handy  revolver  rings  out  clear  and  sharp  on 
the  mountain  air,  and  the  startled  antelope  go  bounding  across  the 
plain  in  a  succession  of  quick,  jerky  jumps  peculiar  to  that  nimble 
animal ;  but  ere  they  have  travelled  a  hundred  yards  one  of  them 
lags  behind  and  finally  staggers  and  lays  down  on  the  grass.  As  I 
approach  him  he  makes  a '  gallant  struggle  to  rise  and  make  off 
after  his  companions,  but  the  effort  is  too  much  for  him,  and  com- 
ing up  to  him,  I  quickly  put  him  out  of  pain  by  a  shot  behind  the 
ear.  This  makes  a  proud  addition  to  my  hitherto  rather  smaU  hst 
of  game,  which  now' comprises  jack-rabbits,  a  badger,  a  fierce  gos- 
ling, an  antelope,  and  a  thin,  attenuated  coyote,  that  I  bowled  over 
in  Utah. 

From  this  ridge  an  extensive  view  of  the  broad,  billowy  plains 
and  surrounding  mountains  is  obtained.  Elk  Mountain  still  seems 
close  at  hand,  its  towering  form  marking  the  western  Hmits  of  the 
Medicine  Bow  Range  whose  dark  pine-clad  slopes  form  the  western 
border  of  the  plains.  Back  of  them  to  the  west  is  the  Snowy 
Eange,  towering  in  ghostly  grandeur  as  far  above  the  timber-clad 
summits  of  the  Medicine  Bow  Range  as  these  latter  are  above  the 
grassy  plains  at  their  base.  To  the  south  more  snowy  mountains 
stand  out  against  the  sky  like  white  tracery  on  a  blue  ground,  with 
Long's  Peak  and  Fremont's  Peak  towering  head  and  shoulders 
above  them  alL  The  Rattlesnake  Eange,  with  Laramie  Peak  rear- 
ing its  ten  thousand  feet  of  rugged  grandeur  to  the  clouds,  are 
visible  to  the  north.  On  the  east  is  the  Black  HiUs  Eange,  the 
last  chain  of  the  Rockies,  and  now  the  only  barrier  intervening  be- 
tween me  and  the  broad  prairies  that  roll  away  eastward  to  the 
Missouri  River  and  "  the  States.'' 

A  genuine  Laramie  Plains  rain-storm  is  hovering  overhead  as  I 
pull  out  of  Rock  Creek,  after  dinner,  and  in  a  little  while  the  per- 
formance begins.  There  is  nothing  of  the  gentle  pattering  shower 
about  a  rain  and  wind  storm  on  these  elevated  plains ;  it  comes  on 
with  a  blow  and  a  bluster  that  threatens  to  take  one  off  his  feet. 
The  rain  is  dashed  about  in  the  air  by  the  wild,  blustering  wind, 
and  comes  from  all  directions  at  the  same  time.  While  you  are 
frantically  hanging  on  to  your  hat,  the  wind  playfully  unbuttons 
your  rubber  coat  and  lifts  it  up  over  your  head  and  flaps  the  wet, 
muddy  corners  about  in  your  face  and  eyes  ;  and,  ere  you  can  dis- 
entangle your  features  fi-om  the  cold  uncomfortable  embrace  of 


THROUGH   MORMON-LAND   AND   OVER  THE   ROCKIES.      63 

the  wet  mackintosh,  the  rain — which  "  falls  "  upward  as  well  as 
clo^vn,  and  sidewise,  and  eveiy  other  way — has  wet  you  through  up 
as  high  as  the  armpits  ;  and  then  the  gentle  zephyrs  complete  your 
discomfiture  by  purloining  your  hat  and  making  off  across  the  sod- 
den plain  with  it,  at  a  pace  that  defies  pursuit.  The  storm  winds  up 
in  a  pelting  shower  of  hailstones — round  chunks  of  ice  that  cause 
me  to  wince  whenever  one  makes  a  square  hit,  and  they  strike  the 
steel  spokes  of  the  bicycle  and  make  them  produce  harmonious 
sounds.  Trundling  through  Cooper  Lake  Basin,  after  dark,  I  get 
occasional  glimpses  of  mysterious  shadowy  objects  flitting  hither 
arid  thither  through  the  dusky  pall  around  me.  The  basin  is  full 
of  antelope,  and  my  presence  here  in  the  darkness  fills  them  with 
consternation  ;  theu-  keen  scent  and  instinctive  knowledge  of  a 
strange  presence  warn  them  of  my  proximity  ;  and  as  they  cannot 
see  me  in  the  darkness  they  are  flitting  about  in  wild  alarm. 

Stopping  for  the  night  at  Lookout,  I  make  an  early  start,  in 
order  to  reach  Laramie  City  for  dinner.  These  Laramie  Plains 
"can  smile  and  look  pretty"  when  they  choose,  and,  as  I  bowl 
along  over  a  fairly  good  road  this  sunny  Sunday  morning,  they 
certainly  choose.  The  Laramie  Eiver  on  my  left,  the  Medicine 
Bow  and  Snowy  ranges — black  and  white  respectivelj' — towering 
aloft  to  the  right,  and  the  intervening  plains  dotted  with  herds 
of  antelope,  complete  a  picture  that  can  be  seen  nowhere  save  on 
the  Laramie  Plains.  Beaching  a  swell  of  the  plains,  that  almost 
rises  to  the  digiiity  of  a  hill,  I  can  see  the  nickel-plated  wheels  of  the 
Laramie  wheelmen  glistening  in  the  sunlight  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  river  several  miles  from  where  I  stand.  They  have  come  out 
a  few  miles  to  meet  me,  but  have  taken  the  wrong  side  of  the  river, 
thinkins;  I  had  crossed  below  Kock  Creek.  The  members  of  the 
Laramie  Bicycle  Club  are  the  first  wheehnen  I  have  seen  since  leav- 
ing California  ;  and,  as  I  am  personally  acquainted  at  Laramie,  it  is 
needless  to  dwell  on  my  reception  at  their  hands.  The  rambles  of 
the  Laramie  Club  are  well  known  to  the  cycUng  world  from  the 
iliany  interesting  letters  from  the  graphic  pen  of  their  captain, 
Rlr.  Owen,  who,  with  two  other  members,  once  took  a  tour  on 
their  wheels  to  the  Yellowstone  National  Park.  They  have  some 
very  good  natural  roads  around  Laramie,  but  in  then-  rambles  over 
the  mountains  these  "rough  riders  of  the  Eockies"  necessarily 
take  risks  that  are  unknown  to  theii-  fraternal  brethren  farther 
east. 


64  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

Tuesday  morning  I  pull  out  to  scale  the  last  range  that 
separates  me  from  "  the  plains  " — popularly  known  as  such — and, 
upon  arriving  at  the  summit,  I  pause  to  take  a  farewell  view  of 
the  great  and  wonderful  inter-mountain  country,  across  whose 
mountains,  plains,  and  deserts  I  have  been  travelling  in  so  novel  a 
manner  for  the  last  month.  The  view  from  where  I  stand  is  mag- 
nificent— ay,  sublime  beyond  human  power  to  describe — and  well 
calculated  to  make  an  indelible  impression  on  the  mind  of  one  gaz- 
ing upon  it,  perhaps  for  the  last  time.  The  Laramie  Plains  extend 
northward  and  westward,  like  a  billowy  green  sea.  Emerging 
from  a  black  canon  behind  Jelm  Mountain,  the  Laramie  Eiver 
winds  its  serpentine  course  in  a  northeast  direction  until  lost  to 
view  behind  the  abutting  mountains  of  the  range,  on  which  I  now 
stand,  receiving  tribute  in  its  course  from  the  Little  Laramie  and 
numbers  of  smaller  streams  that  emerge  from  the  mountainous 
bulwarks  forming  the  western  border  of  the  marvellous  picture  now 
before  me.  The  unusual  rains  have  filled  the  numberless  depres- 
sions of  the  plains  with  ponds  and  lakelets  that  in  their  green  set- 
ting glisten  and  glimmer  in  the  bright  morning  sunshine  like  gems. 
A  train  is  coming  from  the  west,  winding  around  arhong  them  as  if 
searching  out  the  most  beautiful,  and  finally  halts  at  Laramie  City, 
which  nestles*  in  their  midst — the  fairest  gem  of  them  all — the 
"Gem  of  the  Eockies."  Sheep  Mountain,  the  embodiment  of  all 
that  is  massive  and  indestructible,  juts  boldly  and  defiantly  for- 
ward as  though  its  mission  were  to  stand  guard  over  all  that  lies  to 
the  west.  The  Medicine  Bow  Range  is  now  seen  to  greater  advan- 
tage, and  a  bald  mountain-top  here  and  there  protrudes  above  the 
dark  forests,  timidly,  as  if  ashamed  of  its  nakedness.  Our  old 
friend.  Elk  Mountain,  is  still  in  view,  a  stately  and  magnificent 
pile,  serving  as  a  land-mark  for  a  hundred  miles  around.  Beyond 
all  this,  to  the  west  and  south — a  good  hundred  mUes  away — are 
the  snowy  ranges  ;  their  hoary  peaks  of  glistening  purity  penetrat- 
ing the  vast  blue  dome  above,  like  monarchs  in  royal  vestments 
robed.  Still  others  are  seen,  white  and  shadowy,  stretching  away 
down  into  Colorado,  peak  beyond  peak,  ridge  beyond  ridge,  until 
lost  in  the  impenetrable  distance. 

As  I  lean  on  my  bicycle  on  this  mountain-top,  drinking  in  the 
glorious  scene,  and  inhaling  the  ozone-laden  air,  looking  through 
the  loop-holes  of  recent  experiences  in  crossing  the  great  wonder- 
land to  the  west ;  its  strange  intermingling  of  forest-clad  hiUs  and 


THROUGH   MORMON-LAND   AND   OVER  THE  ROCKIES.      65 

grassy  valleys  ;  its  barren,  rocky  mountains  and  dreary,  desolate 
plains  ;  its  vast,  snowy  solitudes  and  its  sunny,  sylvan  nooks  ;  the 
no  less  strange  intermingling  of  people  ;  the  wandering  red-skin 
with  Lis  pathetic  history  ;  the  feverishly  hopeful  prospector,  toiling 
and  searching  for  precious  metals  locked  in  the  eternal  hills ;  and 
the  wild  and  free  cow-boy  who,  mounted  on  his  wiry  bronco,  roams 
these  plains  and  mountains,  free  as  the  Ai-ab  of  the  desert — I 
heave  a  sigh  as  I  realize  that  no  tongue  or  jaen  of  mine  can  hope 
to  do  the  subject  justice. 

My  road  is  now  over  Cheyenne  Pass,  and  fi-om  this  point  is 
mostly  down-grade  to  Cheyenne.  Soon  I  come  to  a  naturally 
smooth  granite  surface  which  extends  for  twelve  miles,  where  I 
have  to  keep  the  brake  set  most  of  the  distance,  and  the  constant 
friction  heats  the  brake-spoon  and  scorches  the  rubber  tire  black. 
To-night  I  reach  Cheyenne,  where  I  find  a  bicycle  club  of  twenty 
members,  and  where  the  fame  of  my  journey  from  San  Francisco 
draws  such  a  crowd  on  the  corner  where  I  alight,  that  a  blue-coated 
guardian  of  the  city's  sidewalks  requests  me  to  saunter  on  over  to 
the  hotel.  Do  I?  Yes,  I  saunter  over.  The  Cheyenne  "cops" 
are  bold,  bad  men  to  trifle  with.  They  have  to  be  "  bold,  bad  men 
to  trifle  with,"  or  the  wild,  wicked  cow-boys  would  come  in  and 
"paint  the  city  red"  altogether  too  frequently. 

It  is  the  morning  of  June  4th  as  I  bid  farewell  to  the  "Magic 
City,"  and,  turning  my  back  to  the  mountains,  ride  away  over  very 
fair  roads  toward  the  rising  sun.  I  am  not  long  out  before  meet- 
ing with  that  characteristic  feature  of  a  scene  on  the  Western 
plains,  a  "prairie  schooner;"  and  meeting  prame  schooners  will 
now  be  a  daily  incident  of  my  eastward  journey.  Many  of  these 
"pilgrims"  come  from  the  backwoods  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas, 
or  the  rural  districts  of  some  other  Western  State,  where  the  perse- 
vering, but  at  present  circumscribed,  cycler  has  not  yet  had  time 
to  penetrate,  and  the  bicycle  is  therefore  to  them  a  wonder  to  be 
gazed  at  and  commented  on,  generally — it  must  be  admitted — in 
language  more  fluent  as  to  words  than  in  knowledge  of  the  subject 
discussed.  Not  far  from  where  the  trail  leads  out  of  Crow  Creek 
bottom  on  to  the  higher  table-land,  I  find  the  grassy  plain  smoother 
than  the  wagon-trail,  and  bowl  along  for  a  short  distance  as  easUy 
as  one  could  wish.  But  not  for  long  is  this  permitted  ;  the  ground 
becomes  covered  with  a  carpeting  of  small,  loose  cacti  that  stick 
to  the  rubber  tire  with  the  clinging  tenacity  of  a  cuckle-burr  to  a 
5 


66  FEOM   SAN  FKANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

mule's  tail.  Of  course  they  scrape  off  again  as  they  come  round 
to  the  bridge  of  the  fork,  but  it  isn't  the  tire  picking  them  up  that 
fills  me  with  lynx-eyed  vigilance  and  alarm  ;  it  is  the  dreaded  pos- 
sibility of  taking  a  header  among  these  awful  vegetables  that  un- 
nerves one,  starts  the  cold  chills  chasing  each  other  up  and  down 
my  spinal  column,  and  causes  staring  big  beads  of  perspiration  to 
ooze  out  of  my  forehead.  No  more  appalling  physical  calamity  on 
a  small  scale  could  befall  a  person  than  to  take  a  header  on  to  a 
cactus-covered  greensward  ;  milhons  of  miniature  needles  would 
fill  his  tender  hide  with  prickly  sensations,  and  his  vision  with 
floating  stars.  It  would  perchance  cast  clouds  of  gloom  over  his 
whole  hie.  Henceforth  he  would  be  a  solemn- visaged,  bilious-eyed 
needle-cushion  among  men,  and  would  never  smile  again.  I  once 
knew  a  young  man  named  Whipple,  who  sat  down  on  a  bunch 
of  these  cacti  at  a  picnic  in  Virginia  Dale,  Wyo.,  and  he  never 
smiled  again.  Two  meek-eyed  maidens  of  the  Eockies  invited  him 
to  come  and  take  a  seat  between  them  on  a  thin,  innocuous-looking 
layer  of  hay.  Smilingly  poor,  unsuspecting  Whipple  accepted  the 
invitation  ;  jokingly  he  suggested  that  it  would  be  a  rose  between 
two  thorns.  But  immediately  he  sat  dovm.  he  became  convinced 
that  it  was  the  liveliest  thorn — or  rather  miUions  of  thorns — be- 
tween two  roses.  Of  course  the  two  meek-eyed  maidens  didn't 
know  it  was  there,  how  should  they  ?  But,  all  the  same,  he  never 
smiled  again — ^not  on  them. 

At  the  section-house,  where  I  call  for  dinner,  I  make  the  mis- 
take of  leaving  the  bicycle  behind  the  house,  and  the  woman  takes 
me  for  an  uncommercial  traveller — yes,  a  tramp.  She  snaps  out, 
"We  can't  feed  everybody  that  comes  along,"  and  shuts  the  door 
in  my  face.  Yesterday  I  was  the  centre  of  admiring  crowds  in  the 
richest  city  of  its  size  in  America  ;  to-day  I  am  mistaken  for  a  hun- 
gry-eyed tramp,  and  spumed  from  the  door  by  a  woman  with  a 
faded  calico  dress  and  a  wrathy  what-are-you-doing-here  ?  look  in 
her  eye.     Such  is  life  in  the  Far  West. 

Gradually  the  Eockies  have  receded  from  my  range  of  vision, 
and  I  am  alone  on  the  boundless  prairie.  There  is  a  feeling  of 
utter  isolation  at  finding  one's  self  alone  on  the  plains  that  is  not 
experienced  in  the  mountain  country.  There  is  something  tann-i- 
ble  and  companionable  about  a  mountain ;  but  here,  where  there 
is  no  object  in  view  anywhere — nothing  but  the  boundless,  level 
plains,  stretching  away  on  every  hand  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 


TIIEOUGII    MORMON-LAND    AND    OVER   THE    ROCKIES.      67 

and  all  around,  wliicbever  way  one  looks,  nothing'  but  tlie  green 
carpet  below  and  the  cerulean  arch  above — one  feels  that  he  is  the 
sole  occupant  of  a  vast  region  of  otherwise  unoccupied  space.  This 
evening,  while  fording  Pole  Creek  with  the -bicycle,  my  clothes, 


Fishing  out  my  Ciothes. 


and  shoes — all  at  the  same  time — the  latter  fall  in  the  river  ;  and 
in  my  wild  scramble  after  the  shoes  I  drop  some  of  the  clothes  ; 
then  I  drop  the  machine  in  my  effort  to  save  the  clothes,  and  wind 
up  by  falhng  down  in  the  water  with  everything.     Everything  is 


68  rnoM  SAN  francisco  to  teheraw. 

fished  out  again  all  right,  but  a  sad  change  has  come  over  the 
clothes  and  shoes.  This  morning  I  was  mistaken  for  a  homeless, 
friendless  wanderer  ;  this  evening  as  I  stand  on  the  bank  of  Pole 
Creek  with  nothing-over  me  but  a  thin  mantle  of  native  modesty, 
and  ruefully  wring  the  water  out  of  my  clothes,  I  feel  considerably 
like  one  !  Pine  Bluffs  provides  me  with  shelter  for  the  night,  and  a 
few  miles'  travel  next  morning  takes  me  across  the  boundary-line  into 
Nebraska.  My  route  leads  down  Pole  Creek,  with  ridable  roads 
probably  half  the  distance,  and  low,  rocky  bluffs  lining  both  sides  of 
the  narrow  valley,  and  leading  up  to  high,  rolling  prairie  beyond. 
Over  these  rocky  bluffs  the  Indians  were  wont  to  stampede  herds 
of  buffalo,  which  falling  over  the  precipitous  bluffs,  would  be  killed 
by  hundreds,  thus  XDrocuring  an  abundance  of  beef  for  the  long 
winter.  There  are  no  buffalo  here  now — they  have  departed  with 
the  Indians — and  I  shall  never  have  a  chance  to  add  a  bison  to 
my  game-list  on  this  tour.  But  they  have  left  plenty  of  tangible 
evidence  behind,  in  the  shape  of  numerous  deeply  worn  trails  lead- 
ing from  the  bluffs  to  the  creek. 

The  prairie  hereabouts  is  spangled  with  a  wealth  of  divers-col- 
ored flowers  that  fill  the  morning  air  with  gratifying  perfume. 
The  air  is  soft  and  balmy,  in  striking  contrast  to  the  chilly  atmos- 
phere of  early  morning  in  the  mountain  country,  where  the  accu- 
mulated snows  of  a  thousand  winters  exert  their  chilling  influence 
in  opposition  to  the  benign  rays  of  old  Sol.  This  evening  I  pass 
through  "Prairie-dog  City,''  the  largest  congregation  of  prairie- 
dog  dwellings  met  with  on  the  tour.  The  "  city  "  covers  hundreds 
of  acres  of  ground,  and  the  dogs  come  out  in  such  multitudes  to 
present  their  noisy  and  excitable  protests  against  my  intrusion,  that 
I  consider  myself  quite  justified  in  shooting  at  them.  I  hit  one 
old  fellow  fair  and  square,  but  he  disappears  like  a  flash  down  his 
hole,  which  now  becomes  his  grave.  The  lightniug-like  movements 
of  the  prairie-dog,  and  his  instinctive  inclination  toward  his  home, 
combine  to  perform  the  last  sad  rites  of  burial  for  his  body  at 
death.  As,  toward  dark,  I  near  Potter  Station,  where  I  expect  ac- 
commodation for  the  night,  a  storm  comes  howling  from  the  west, 
and  it  soon  resolves  into  a  race  between  me  and  the  storm.  With 
a  good  ridable  road  I  could  win  the  race  ;  but,  being  handicapped 
with  an  unridable  trail,  nearly  obscured  beneath  tall,  rank  grass, 
the  storm  overtakes  me,  and  comes  in  at  Potter  Station  a  winner 
by  about  three  hundred  lengths. 


THROUGH   MORMON-LAND   AND   OVER  THE   ROCKIES.      69 

In  the  morning  I  start  out  in  good  season,  and,  nearing  Sidney, 
the  road  becomes  better,  and  I  sweep  into  that  enterprising  town 
at  a  becoming  pace.  I  conclude  to  remain  at  Sidney  for  dinner, 
and  pass  the  remainder  of  the  forenoon  visiting  the  neighboring 
fort. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PROM  THE  GREAT  PLAINS  TO  THE  ATLANTIC. 

Through  the  courtesy  of  the  commanding  o£Scer  at  Fort  Sidney 
I  am  enabled  to  resume  my  journey  eastward  under  the  grateful 
shade  of  a  military  summer  helmet  in  lieu  of  the  semi-sombrero 
slouch  that  has  lasted  me  through  from  San  Francisco.  Certainly 
it  is  not  without  feelings  of  compunction  that  one  discards  an  old 
friend,  that  has  gallantly  stood  by  me  through  thick  and  thin 
throughout  the  eventful  journey  across  the  inter-mountain  country  ; 
but  the  white  helmet  gives  such  a  delightfully  imposing  air  to  my 
otherwise  forlorn  and  woebegone  figure  that  I  ride  out  of  Sidney 
feeling  quite  vain.  The  first  thing  done  is  to  fill  a  poor  yellow- 
spotted  snake — whose  head  is  boring  in  the  sand — with  lively  sur- 
prise, by  riding  over  his  mottled  carcass  ;  and  only  the  fact  of  the 
tire  being  rubber,  and  not  steel,  enables  him  to  escape  unscathed. 
This  same  evening,  while  halting  for  the  night  at  Lodge  Pole  Sta- 
tion, the  opportunity  of  observing  the  awe-inspiring  aspect  of  a 
great  thunder-storm  on  the  plains  presents  itself.  "With  absolutely 
nothing  to  obstruct  the  vision  the  Alpha  and  Omega  of  the  whole 
spectacle  are  plainly  observable.  The  gradual  mustering  of  the 
forces  is  near  the  Rockies  to  the  westward,  then  the  skirmish-line 
of  fleecy  cloudlets  comes  rolling  and  tumbling  in  advance,  bringing 
a  current  of  air  that  causes  the  ponderous  -wind-mill  at  the  railway 
tank  to  "about  face"  sharply,  and  sets  its  giant  arms  to  -whirling 
vigorously  around.  Behind  comes  the  compact,  inky  veil  that 
spreads  itself  over  the  whole  blue  canopy  above,  seemingly  banish- 
ing all  hope  of  the  future  ;  and  athwart  its  Cimmerian  surface 
shoot  zigzag  streaks  of  lightning,  accompanied  by  heavy,  muttering 
thunder  that  rolls  and  reverberates  over  the  boundless  plains 
seemingly  conscious  of  the  spaciousness  of  its  play-ground.  Broad 
sheets  of  electric  flame  play  along  the  ground,  filling  the  air  with 
a  strange,  unnatural  light ;  hea-vy,  pattering  raindrops  begin  to 
fall,  and,  ten  minutes  after,  a  pelting,  pitiless  down-pour  is  drench- 


FROM  THE  GREAT  PLAINS  TO  THE  ATLANTIC.     71 

ing  the  sod-cabin  of  the  lonely  rancher,  and,  for  the  time  being, 
converting  the  level  plain  into  a  shallow  lake. 

A  fleet  of  prairie  schooners  is  anchored  in  the  South  Platte 
bottom,  waiting  for  it  to  dry  up,  as  I  trundle  down  that  stream— 
every  mile  made  interesting  by  reminiscences  of  Indian  fights  and 
massacres— next  day,  toward  Ogallala  ;  and  one  of  the  "  Pilgrims  ' 
looks  wise  as  I  approach,  and  propounds  the  query,  "  Does  it  hev 
ter  git  very  muddy  afore  yer  kin  ride  yer  verlocify,  mister?" 
"  Ya-as,  purty  dog-goned  muddy,"  I  drawl  out  in  reply  ;  for, 
although  comprehending  his  meaning,  I  don't  care  to  venture  into 


The   First  Homestead. 


an  explanatory  lecture  of  uncertain  •  length.  Seven  weeks'  travel 
through  bicycleless  territory  would  undoubtedly  convert  an  angel 
into  a  hardened  prevaricator,  so  far  as  answering  questions  is  con- 
cerned. 

This  afternoon  is  passed  the  first  homestead,  as  distinguished 
from  a  ranch — ^consisting  of  a  small  tent  pitched  near  a  few  acres 
of  newly  upturned  prairie — in  the  picket-line  of  the  great  agricult- 
ural empire  that  is  gradually  creeping  westward  over  the  plains, 
crowding  the  autocratic  cattle-kings  and  their  herds  farther  west, 
even  as  the  Indians  and  their  still  greater  herds — buffaloes — have 


72  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

been  crowded  out  by  the  latter.  At  Ogallala — which  but  a  few 
years  ago  was  par  excellence  the  cow-boys'  rrillying  point — "home- 
steads," "timber  claims,"  and  "pre-emption"  now  form  the  all- 
absorbing  topic. 

"  The  Platte's  '  petered '  since  the  hoosiers  have  begun  to  settle 
it  up,"  deprecatingly  reflects  a  bronzed  cow-boy  at  the  hotel  supper- 
table  ;  and,  from  his  standpoint,  he  is  correct. 

Passing  the  next  night  in  the  dug-out  of  a  homesteader,  in  the 
forks  of  the  North  and  South  Platte,  I  pass  in  the  morning  Buffalo 
Bill's  home  ranch  (the  place  where  a  ranch  proprietor  himself  re- 
sides is  denominated  the  "home  ranch"  as  distinctive  from  a  ranch 
presided  over  by  employes  only),  the  house  and  improvements  of 
which  are  said  to  be  the  finest  in  Western  Nebraska.  Taking  din- 
ner at  North  Platte  City,  I  cross  over  a  substantial  wagon-bridge, 
spanning  the  turgid  yellow  stream  just  below  where  the  north  and 
south  branches  fork,  and  proceed  eastward  as  "  the  Platte  "  simply, 
reaching  Brady  Island  for  the  night.  Here  I  encounter  extraordi- 
nary difiiculties  in  getting  supper.  Pour  families,  representing  the 
Union  Pacific  force  at  this  place,  aU  living  in  separate  houses,  con- 
stitute the  population  of  Brady  Island.  "  AU  our  folks  are  just 
recovering  from  the  scarlet  fever,"  is  the  reply  to  my  first  applica- 
tion ;  "  Muvver's  down  to  ve  darden  on  ve  island,  and  we  ain't  dot 
no  bread  baked,"  says  a  barefooted  youth  at  house  No.  2 ;  "  Me 
ould  ooman's  across  ter  the  naybur's,  'n'  there  ain't  a  boite  av  grub 
cooked  in  the  shanty,"  answers  the  proprietor  of  No.  3,  seated  on 
the  threshold,  puffing  vigorously  at  the  traditional  short  clay  ;  "  We 
all  to  Nord  Blatte  been  to  veesit,  und  shust  back  ter  home  got  mit 
notings  gooked,"  winds  up  the  gloomy  programme  at  No.  4.  I  am 
hesitating'  about  whether  to  crawl  in  somewhere,  supperless,  for 
the  night,  or  push  on  farther  through  the  darkness,  when,  "I  don't 
care,  pa  !  it's  a  shame  for  a  stranger  to  come  here  where  there  are 
four  families  and  have  to  go  without  supper,"  greet  my  ears  in  a 
musical,  tremulous  voice.  It  is  the  convalescent  daughter  of  house 
No.  1,  valiantly  championing  my  cause  ;  and  so  well  does  she  suc- 
ceed that  her  "pa"  comes  out,  and  notwithstanding  my  protests 
insists  on  setting  out  the  best  they  have  cooked. 

Homesteads  now  become  more  frequent,  groves  of  youno-  cot- 
tonwoods,  representing  timber  claims,  are  occasionally  encoun- 
tered, and  section-house  accommodation  becomes  a  thing  of  the 
past.     Near  Willow  Island  I  come  within  a  trifle  of  steppin"  on  a 


FUOM   THE   GREAT   PLAINS  TO  THE   ATLANTIC.  73 

belligerent  rattlesnake,  and  in  a  moment  his  deadly  fangs  are 
hooked  to  one  of  the  thick  canvas  gaiters  I  am  wearing.  Were  my 
exquisitely  outlineel  calves  encased  in  cycling  stockings  only,  I 
should  have  had  a  "  heap  sick  foot "  to  amuse  myself  with  for  the 
next  three  weeks,  though  there  is  little  danger  of  being  "  snuffed 
out "  entirely  by  a  rattlesnake  favor  these  days  ;  an  all-potent  rem- 
edy is  to  drink  plenty  of  whiskey  as  quickly  as  j)ossible  after  being 
bitten,  and  whiskey  is  one  of  the  easiest  things  to  obtain  in  the 
"West.  Giving  his  snakeship  to  understand  that  I  don't  appreciate 
his  "  good  intentions  "  by  vigorously  shaking  him  off,  I  turn  my 
"barker"  loose  on  him,  and  quickly  convert  him  into  a  "goody- 
good  snake  ; "  for  if  "the  only  good  Indian  is  a  dead  one,"  surely 
the  same  terse  remark  applies  with  much  greater  force  to  the  vi- 
cious and  deadly  rattler.  As  I  progress  eastward,  sod-houses  and 
dug-outs  become  less  frequent,  and  at  long  intervals  frame  school- 
houses  appear  to  remind  me  that  I  am  passing  through  a  civilized 
country.  Stretches  of  sand  alternate  with  ridable  roads  all  down 
the  Platte.  Often  I  have  to  ticklishly  wobble  along  a  narrow  space 
between  two  j'awning  ruts,  over  ground  that  is  anything  but  smooth. 
I  consider  it  a  lucky  day  that  passes  without  adding  one  or  more  to 
my  long  and  eventful  list  of  headers,  and  to-day  I  am  fairly  "  un- 
horsed '  by  a  squall  of  wind  that — taking  me  unawares — blows  me 
and  the  bicycle  fairly  over. 

East  of  Plum  Creek  a  greater  proportion  of  ridable  road  is 
encountered,  but  they  still  continue  to  be  nothing  more  than 
well-worn  wagon-trails  across  the  prairie,  and  when  teams  are 
met  en  route  westward  one  has  to  give  and  the  other  take,  in  order 
to  pass.  It  is  doubtless  owing  to  misunderstanding  a  cycler's 
capacities,  rather  than  ill-nature,  that  makes  these  Western  team- 
sters oblivious  to  the  precept,  "  It  is  better  to  give  than  to  re- 
ceive ; "  and  if  ignorance  is  bliss,  an  outfit  I  meet  to-day  ought  to 
comprise  the  happiest  mortals  in  existence.  Near  Elm  Creek  I 
meet  a  train  of  "  schooners,"  whose  drivers  fail  to  recognize  my 
right  to  one  of  the  two  wheel-tracks ;  and  in  my  endeavor  to  ride 
past  them  on  the  uneven  greensward,  I  am  rewarded  by  an  inglori- 
ous header.  A  dozen  freckled  Arkansawish  faces  are  watching  my 
movements  with  undisguised  astonishment ;  and  when  my  crest- 
fallen self  is  spread  out  on  the  prairie,  these  faces — one  and  aU — 
resolve  into  expansive  grins,  and  a  squeaking  female  voice  from  out 
the  nearest  wagon,  pipes  ;  "  La  me  !  that's  a  right  smart  chance  of 


74  FKOM    SAN   FEANCISCO    TO   TEHERAN. 

a  travelling  machine,  but,  if  that's  the  way  they  stop  'em,  I  wonder 
they  don't  break  every  blessed  bone  in  their  body  !  "  But  all  sorts 
of  people  are  mingled  promiscuously  here,  for,  soon  after  this  inci- 
dent, two  young  men  come  running  across  the  prairie  from  a  semi- 
dug-out,  who  prove  to  be  college  graduates  from  "  the  Hub,"  who 
are  rooting  prairie  here  in  Nebraska,  preferring  the  free,  indepen- 
dent life  of  a  Western  farmer  to  the  restraints  of  a  position  at  an 
Eastern  desk.  They  are  more  conversant  with  cycling  affairs  than 
myself,  and,  having  heard  of  my  tour,  have  been  on  the  lookout, 
expecting  I  would  pass  this  way. 

At  Kearney  Junction  the  roads  are  excellent,  and  everything  is 
satisfactory ;  but  an  hour's  ride  east  of  that  city  I  am  shocked  at 
the  gross  misconduct  of  a  vigorous  and  vociferous  young  mule  who 
is  confined  alone  in  a  pasture,  presumably  to  be  weaned.  He  evi- 
dently mistakes  the  picturesque  combination  of  man  and  machine 
for  his  mother,  as,  on  seeing  us  approach,  he  assumes  a  thirsty, 
anxious  expression,  raises  his  unmusical,  undignified  voice,  and  en- 
deavors to  jump  the  fence.  He  follows  along  the  whole  length  of 
the  pasture,  and  when  he  gets  to  the  end,  and  realizes  that  I  am 
drawing  away  from  him,  perhaps  forever,  he  bawls  out  in  an  agony 
of  grief  and  anxiety,  and,  recklessly  bursting  through  the  fence, 
comes  tearing  down  the  road,  filling  the  air  with  the  unmelodious 
notes  of  his  soul-harrowing  music.  The  road  is  excellent  for  a 
piece,  and  I  lead  him  a  lively  chase,  but  he  finally  overtakes  me, 
and,  when  I  slow  up,  he  jogs  along  behind  quite  contentedly. 

East  of  Kearney  the  sod-houses  disappear  entirely,  and  the  im- 
provements are  of  a  more  substantial  character.  At  Wood  Eiver 
I  "  make  my  bow  "  to  the  first  growth  of  natural  timber  since  leav- 
ing the  mountains,  which  indicates  my  gradual  advance  off  the  vast 
timberless  plains.  Passing  through  Grand  Island,  Central  City,  and 
other  towns,  I  find  myself  anchored  Saturday  evening,  June  14th, 
at  Duncan — a  settlement  of  Polackers — an  honest-hearted  set  of 
folks,  who  seem  to  thoroughly  understand  a  cycler's  digestive  ca- 
pacity, though  understanding  nothing  whatever  about  the  uses  of 
the  machine.  Eesuming  my  journey  next  morning,  I  find  the  roads 
fair.  After  crossing  the  Loup  Eiver,  and  passing  through  Colum- 
bus, I  reach — about  11  a.m. — a  country  school-house,  with  a  gather- 
ing of  farmers  hanging  around  outside,  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the 
parson  to  open  the  meeting.  Alighting,  I  am  engaged  in  answer- 
ing forty  questions  or  thereabouts  to  the  minute  when  that  pious 


FROM  THE  GREAT  PLAINS  TO  THE  ATLANTIC.     75 

inclividual  canters  ug,  and,  dismounting  from  his  nag,  comes  for- 
ward and  joins  in  the  conversation.  He  invites  me  to  stop  over  and 
hear  the  sermon  ;  and  when  I  beg  to  be  excused  because  desirous 
of  pushing  ahead  while  the  weather  is  favorable  His  Eeverence  sol- 
emnly warns  me  against  desecrating  the  Sabbath  by  going  farther 
than  the  prescribed  "  Sabbath-day's  journey." 

At  Fremont  I  bid  farewell  to  the  Platte — which  turns  south 
and  joins  the  Missouri  Eiver  at  Plattsmouth — and  fbllow  the  old 
military  road  through  the  Elkhorn  Valley  to  Omaha.  "Military 
road  "  sounds  like  music  in  a  cycler's  ear — suggestive  of  a  well- 
kept  and  well-graded  highway  ;  but  this  particular  military  road 
between  Fremont  and  Omaha  fails  to  awaken  any  blithesome  sen- 
sations to-day,  for  it  is  almost  one  continuous  mud-hole.  It  is 
*  called  a  military  road  simply  from  being  the  route  formerly  tra- 
versed by  troops  and  supply  trains  bound  for  the  Western  forts. 
Resting  a  day  in  Omaha,  I  obtain  a  permit  to  trundle  my  wheel 
across  the  Union  Pacific  Bridge  that  spans  the  Missouri  Eiver — 
the  ' '  Big  Muddy,"  toward  which  I  have  been  travelling  so  long — 
between  Omaha  and  Council  Bluffs  ;  I  bid  farewell  to  Nebraska, 
and  cross  over  to  Iowa.' 

Heretofore  I  have  omitted  mentioning  the  tremendously  hot 
weather  I  have  encountered  lately,  because  of  my  inability  to  pro- 
duce legally  tangible  evidence  ;  but  to-day,  while  eating  dinner  at 
a  farm-house,  I  leave  the  bicycle  standing  against  the  fence,  and  old 
Sol  ruthlessly  unsticks  the  tire,  so  that,  when  I  mount,  it  comes  off, 
and  gives  me  a  gymnastic  lesson  all  unnecessary.  My  first  day's 
experience  in  the  great  "  Hawkeye  State  "  speaks  volumes  for  the 
hospitality  of  the  people,  there  being  quite  a  rivalry  between  two 
neighboring  farmers  about  which  should  take  me  in  to  dinner.  A 
compromise  is  finally  made,  by  which  I  am  to  eat  dinner  at  one  place, 
and  be  "turned  loose"  in  a  cherry  orchard  afterward  at  the  other,  to 
which  happy  arrangement  I,  of  course,  enter  no  objections.  In  strik- 
ing contrast  to  these  friendly  advances  is  my  own  unpardonable  con- 
duct the  same  evening  in  conversation  with  an  honest  old  farmer. 

"I  see  you  are  taking  notes.  I  suppose  you  keep  track  of  the 
crops  as  you  travel  along  ?  "  says  the  H.  O.  P. 

"  Certainly,  I  take  more  notice  of  the  crops  than  anything  ;  I'm 
a  natural  born  agiiculturist  myself." 

"Well,"  continues  the  farmer,  "right  here  where  we  stand 
is  Carson  Township." 


76  FKOM   SAN   FKAWCISCO   TO   TEHBRAX. 

."  All !  indeed  !  Is  it  possible  that  I  have  at  last  arrived  at  Car- 
son Township  ?  " 

"  You  have  heard  of  the  township  before,  then,  eh  ?  " 

"  Heard  of  it !  why,  man  alive,  Carson  Township  is  all  the  talk 
out  in  the  Eockies  ;  in  fact,  it  is  known  all  over  the  world  as  the 
finest  Township  for  corn  in  Iowa  !  " 

This  sort  of  conduct  is,  I  admit,  unwarrantable  in  the  extreme ; 
but  cycling  is  responsible  for  it  all.  If  continuous  cycling  is  pro- 
ductive of  a  superfluity  of  exhilaration,  and  said  exhilaration  bub- 
bles over  occasionally,  plainly  the  bicycle  is  to  blame.  So  forcibly 
does  this  latter  fact  intrude  upon  me  as  I  shake  hands  with  the 
farmer,  and  congratulate  him  on  his  rare  good  fortune  in  belong- 
ing to  Carson  Township  that  I  mount,  and  with  a  view  of  taking  a 
little  of  the  shine  out  of  it,  ride  down  the  long,  steep  hill  leading 
to  the  bridge  across  the  Nishnebotene  Eiver  at  a  tremendous 
pace.  The  machine  "kicks"  against  this  treatment,  however, 
and,  when  about  half  way  down,  it  strikes  a  hole  and  sends  me 
spinning  and  gyrating  through  space  ;  and  when  I  finally  strike 
terra  firvxa,  it  thumps  me  unmercifully  in  the  ribs  ere  it  lets 
me  up. 

"  Variable "  is  the  word  descriptive  of  the  Iowa  roads  ;  for 
seventy-five  miles  due  east  of  Omaha  the  prairie  rolls  like  a 
heavy  Atlantic  swell,  and  during  a  day's  journey  I  pass  through  a 
dozen  alternate  stretches  of  muddy  and  dusky  road  ;  for  like  a 
huge  watering-pot  do  the  rain-clouds  pass  to  and  fro  over  this  great 
garden  of  the  West,  that  is  practically  one  continuous  fertile  farm 
from  the  Missouri  to  the  Mississippi. 

Passing  through  Des  Moines  on  the  23d,  muddy  roads  and  hot, 
thunder-showery  weather  characterize  my  journey  through  Cen- 
tral Iowa,  aggravated  by  the  inevitable  question,  "  Why  don't  you 
ride  ?  "  one  Solomon-visaged  individual  asking  me  if  the  railway 
company  wouldn't  permit  me  to  ride  along  one  of  the  rails.  No 
base,  unworthy  suspicions  of  a  cycler's  inability  to  ride  on  a  two- 
inch  rail  finds  lodgement  in  the  mind  of  this  wiseacre  ;  but  his 
compassionate  heart  is  moved  with  tender  soheitude  as  to  whether 
the  soulless  "company"  will,  or  will  not,  permit  it.  Hurryin"- 
timorously  through  Grinnell — the  city  that  was  badly  demolished 
and  scattered  all  over  the  surrounding  country  by  a  cyclone  in 
1882 — I  pause  at  Victor,  where!  find  the  inhabitants  highly  elated 
over  the  prospect  of  building  a  new  jail  with  the  fines  nightly  in- 


78  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

flicted  on  graders  employed  on  a  new  railroad  near  by,  who  come 
to  town  and  "  hilars  "  every  evening. 

"  What  kind  of  a  place  do  you  call  this  ?  "  I  inquire,  on  arriv- 
ing at  a  queer-looking  town  twentj'-five  miles  west  of  Iowa  City. 

"  This  is  South  Amana,  one  of  the  towns  of  the  Amana  Society," 
is  the  civil  reply. 

The  Amana  Society  is  found  upon  inquiry  to  be  a  commu- 
nism of  Germans,  numbering  15,000  souls,  and  owning  50,000 
acres  of  choice  land  in  a  body,  with  woollen  factories,  four  small 
towns,  and  the  best  of  credit  everywhere.  Everything  is  common 
property,  and  upon  withdrawal  or  expulsion,  a  member  takes  with 
him  only  the  value  of  what  he  brought  in.  The  domestic  relations 
are  as  usual ;  and  while  no  person  of  ambition  would  be  content  with 
the  conditions  of  life  here,  the  slow,  ease-loving,  methodical  people 
composing  the  society  seem  well  satisfied  with  their  lot,  and  ai-e, 
perhaps,  happier,  on  the  whole,  than  the  average  outsider.  I  re- 
main here  for  dinner,  and  take  a  look  around.  The  people,  the 
buildings,  the  language,  the  food,  everything,  is  precisely  as  if  it 
had  been  picked  up  bodily  in  some  rural  district  in  Germany,  and 
set  down  unaltered  here  in  Iowa.  "  Wie  gehts,"  I  venture,  as  I 
wheel  past  a  couple  of  plump,  rosy-cheeked  maidens,  in  the  quaint, 
old-fashioned  garb  of  the  German  peasantry.  "  Wie  gehts,"  is  the 
demure  reply  from  them,  both  at  once ;  but  not  the  shadow  of  a 
dimple  responds  to  my  unhappy  attempt  to  win  from  them  a  smile. 
Pretty  but  not  coquettish  are  these  communistic  maidens  of 
Amana. 

At  Tiffin  the  stilly  air  of  night  is  made  joyous  with  the  mel- 
lifluous voices  of  whip-poor-wills — the  first  I  have  heard  on  the 
tour — and  their  tuneful  concert  is  impressed  on  my  memory  in 
happy  contrast  to  certain  other  concerts,  both  vocal  and  instru- 
mental, endured  en  route.  Passing  through  Iowa  City,  crossinn^ 
Cedar  Biver  at  Moscow,  nine  days  after  crossing  the  Missouri,  I 
hear  the  distant  whistle  of  a  Mississippi  steamboat.  Its  hoarse 
voice  is  sweetest  music  to  me,  heralding  the  fact  that  two-thirds  of 
my  long  tour  across  the  continent  is  completed.  Crossing  the 
"  Father  of  Waters  "  over  the  splendid  government  bridge  between 
Davenport  and  Rock  Island,  I  pass  over  into  Illinois.  For  several 
miles  my  route  leads  up  the  Mississippi  River  bottom,  over  sandy 
roads  ;  but  neariug  Rock  River,  the  sand  disappears,  and,  for  some 
distance,  an   excellent  road  winds  through  the  oak-groves  lining 


FROM   THE   GKEAT   PLAIN'S   TO   THE   ATLANTIC.  79 

this  beautiful  stream.  The  green  •woods  are  free  from  under- 
brush, and  a  cool  undercurrent  of  air  plays  amid  the  leafy  shades, 
which,  if  not  ambrosial,  are  none  the  less  grateful,  as  it  registers 
over  100°  in  the  sun  ;  without,  the  silvery  sheen  of  the  river  glim- 
mers through  the  interspaces  ;  the  dulcet  notes  of  church-bells 
come  floating  on  the  breeze  from  over  the  river,  seeming  to  pro- 
claim, ^Yith  their  melodious  tongues,  peace  and  good-will  to  all. 
Eock  Eiver,  with  its  300  yards  in  width  of  unbridged  waters,  now 
obstructs  my  path,  and  the  ferryboat  is  tied  up  on  the  other  shore. 
"  "Whoop-ee,"  I  yeU  at  the  ferryman's  hut  opposite,  but  without 
receiving  any  response.  "  Wh-o-o-p-e-ee,"  I  repeat  in  a  gentle, 
civilized  voice — learned,  by  the  by,  two  years  ago  on  the  Crow  res- 
ervation in  Montana,  and  which  sets  the  surrounding  atmosphere 
in  a  whiii  and  drowns  out  the  music  of  the  church-bells — but  it 
has  no  effect  whatever  on  the  case-hardened  ferryman  in  the  hut ; 
he  pays  no  heed  whatever  until  my  persuasive  voice  is  augmented  by 
the  voices  of  two  new  arrivals  in  a  buggy,  when  he  sallies  serenely 
forth  and  slowly  ferries  us  across.  Biding  along  rather  indifferent 
roads,  between  farms  worth  $100  an  acre,  through  the  handsome 
town  of  Geneseo,  stopping  over  night  at  Atkinson,  I  resume  my  jour- 
ney next  morning  through  a  country  abounding  in  all  that  goes  to 
make  people  prosperous,  if  not  happy.  Pretty  names  are  given  to 
places  hereabouts,  for  on  my  left  I  pass  "  Pink  Prairie,  bordered 
with  Green  Eiver."  Crossing  over  into  Bureau  County,  I  find 
splendid  gravelled  roads,  and  spend  a  most  agreeable  hour  with 
the  jolly  Bicycle  Club,  of  Princeton,  the  handsome  county  seat  of 
Bureau  County.  Pushing  on  to  Lamoille  for  the  night,  the  en- 
terprising village  barber  there  hustles  me  into  his  cosey  shop, 
and  shaves,  shampoos,  shingles,  bay-rums,  and  otherv?ise  manipu- 
lates me,  to  the  great  enhancement  of  my  personal  appearance,  all, 
so  he  says,  for  the  honor  of  having  lathered  the  chin  of  the  "  great 

and  only "     In  fact,  the  Blinoisians  seem  to  be  most  excellent 

folks. 

After  three  days'  journey  through  the  great  Prairie  State  my 
-iiead  is  fairly  turned  with  kindness  and  flattery  ;  but  the  third 
night,  as  if  to  rebuke  my  vanity,  I  am  bluntly  refused  shelter  at 
three  different  farm-houses.  I  am  benighted,  and  conclude  to  make 
the  best  of  it  by  "  turning  in "  under  a  hay-cock ;  but  the  Fox 
Eiver  mosquitoes  oust  me  in  short  order,  and  compel  me  to  "mosey '' 
alon"-  through  the  gloomy  night  to  Yorkville.     At  Yorkville  a  stout 


80  FROM   SAW   FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

German,  on  being  informed  that  I  am  going  to  ride  to  Chicago, 
replies,  "  What !  Ghigago  mit  dot  ?  Why,  mine  dear  vellow,  Ghi- 
gago's  more  as  vorty  miles  ;  you  gan't  ride  mit  dot  to  Ghigago  ;  " 
and  the  old  fellow's  eyes  fairly  bulge  with  astonishment  at  the  bare 
idea  of  riding  forty  miles  "  mit  dot.''  I  considerately  refrain  from 
telling  him  of  my  already  2,500-mile  jaunt  "mit  dot,"  lest  an  apo- 
plectic fit  should  waft  his  Teutonic  soul  to  realms  of  sauer-kraut  bliss 
and  Limburger  happiness  forever.  On  the  morning  of  July  4th  I 
roll  into  Chicago,  where,  having  persuaded  myself  that  I  deserve  a 
few  days'  rest,  I  remain  till  the  Democratic  Convention  winds  up 
on  the  13th. 

Fifteen  miles  of  gaod  riding  and  three  of  tough  trundling, 
through  deep  sand,  brings  me  into  Indiana,  which  for  the  first 
thirty-five  miles  around  the  southern  shore  of  Lake  Michigan  is 
simply  and  solely  sand.  Finding  it  next  to  impossible  to  traverse 
the  wagon-roads,  I  trundle  around  the  water's  edge,  where  the  sand 
is  firmer  because  wet.  After  twenty  miles  of  this  I  have  to  shoulder 
the  bicycle  and  scale  the  huge  sand-dunes  that  border  the  lake 
here,  and  after  wandering  for  an  hour  through  a  bewildering  wil- 
derness of  swamps,  sand-hills,  and  hickory  thickets,  I  finally  reach 
Miller  Station  for  the  night.  This  place  is  enough  to  give  one  the 
yellow-edged  blues :  nothing  but  swamps,  sand,  sad-eyed  turtles, 
and  ruthless,  relentless  mosquitoes.  At  Chesterton  the  roads  im- 
prove, but  still  enough  sand  remains  to  break  the  force  of  headers, 
which,  notwithstanding  my  long  experience  on  the  road,  I  still 
manage  to  execute  with  undesirable  frequency.  To-day  I  take 
one,  and  while  unravelling  myself  and  congratulating  my  lucky 
stars  at  being  in  a  lonely  spot  where  none  can  witness  my  discom- 
fiture, a  gruff,  sarcastic  "  haw-haw  "  falls  like  a  funeral  knell  on 
my  ear,  and  a  lanky  "Hoosier  "  rides  up -on  a  diminutive  pumpkin- 
colored  mule  that  looks'  a  veritable  pygmy  between  his  hoop-pole 
legs.  It  is  but  justice  to  explain  that  this  latter  incident  did  not 
occur  in  "Posey  County." 

At  La  Porte  the  roads  improve  for  some  distance,  but  once  again 
I  am  benighted,  and  sleep  under  a  wheat-shock.  Traversing  several 
miles  of  corduroy  road,  through  huckleberry  swamps,  next  morning, 
I  reach  Crum's  Point  for  breakfast.  A  remnant  of  some  Indian  tribe 
still  lingers  around  here  and  gathers  huckleberries  for  the  market, 
two  squaws  being  in  the  village  purchasing  supplies  for  their  camp 
in  the  swamps.     "What's  the  name  of  these  Indians  here  ?  "  I  ask. 


FROM   THE   6KEAT   PLAINS   TO    THE   ATLANTIC. 


81 


"  One  of  em's  Blinkie,  and  t'other's  Seven-up,"  is  the  reply,  in  a, 
voice  that  implies  such  profound  knowledge  of  the  subject  that  I 


Jumbo  comes  out  to  meet  me. 


forbear  to  investigate  further.     Splendid  gravel  roads  lead  from 
Crum's  Point  to  South  Bend,  and  on  through  Mishawaka,  alternat- 
ing witli  sandy  stretches  to  Goshen,  which  town  is  said^by  the 
6 


82  FROM   SAIif   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

Goshenites — to  be  the  prettiest  in  Indiana  ;  but  there  seems  to  be 
considerable  pride  of  locality  in  the  great  Hoosier  State,  and  I  vent- 
ure there  are  scores  of  "prettiest  towns  in  Indiana."  Neverthelesp, 
Goshen  is  certainly  a  very  handsome  place,  with  unusually  broad, 
well-shaded  streets ;  the  centre  of  a  magnificent  farming  country,  it 
is  romantically  situated  on  the  bants  of  the  beautiful  Elkhart  Eiver. 
At  Wawaka  I  find  a  corpulent  300-pound  cycler,  who,  being  afraid 
to  trust  his  jumbolean  proportions  on  an  ordinary  machine,  has  had 
an  extra  stout  bone-shaker  made  to  order,  and  goes  out  on  short 
runs  with  a  couple  of  neighbor  wheelmen,  who,  being  about  fifty 
per  cent,  less  bulky,  ride  regulation  wheels.  "  Jumbo "  goes  all 
right  when  mounted,  but,  being  unable  to  mount  without  aid,  he 
seldom  ventures  abroad  by  himself  for  fear  of  having  to  foot  it 
back.  Ninety-five  degrees  in  the  shade  characterizes  the  weather 
these  days,  and  I  generally  make  a  few  miles  in  the  gloaming — not, 
of  course,  because  it  is  cooler,  but  because  the  "  gloaming  "  is  so 
delightfully  romantic. 

At  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  July  17th,  I  bowl  across  the 
boundary  line  into  Ohio.  Following  the  Merchants'  and  Bankers' 
Telegraph  road  to  Napoleon,  I  pass  through  a  district  where  the  rain 
has  overlooked  them  for  two  months  ;  the  rear  wheel  of  the  bicycle 
is  half  buried  in  hot  dust ;  the  blackberries  are  dead  on  the  bushes, 
and  the  long-suffering  corn  looks  as  though  afflicted  with  the  yeUow 
jaundice.  I  sup  this  same  evening  with  a  family  of  Germans,  who 
have  been  settled  here  forty  years,  and  scarcely  know  a  word  of 
English  yet.  A  fat,  phlegmatic-looking  baby  is  peacefully  reposing 
in  a  cradle,  which  is  simply  half  a  monster  pumpkin  scooped  out 
and  dried ;  it  is  the  most  intensely  rustic  cradle  in  the  world. 
Surely,  this  youngster's  head  ought  to  be  level  on  agricultural  af- 
fairs, when  he  grows  up,  if  anybody's  ought ! 

From  Napoleon  my  route  leads  up  the  Maumee  Eiver  and  canal, 
first  trying  the  tow-path  of  the  latter,  and  then  rehnquishing  it  for 
the  very  fair  wagon-road.  The  Maumee  Eiver,  winding  through 
its  splendid  rich  valley,  seems  to  possess  a  pecuUar  beauty  all  its 
own,  and  my  mind,  unbidden,  mentally  compares  it  with  our  old 
friend,  the  Humboldt.  The  latter  stream  traverses  dreary  plains, 
where  almost  nothing  but  sage-brush  grows  ;  the  Maumee  waters 
a  smiling  valley,  where  orchards,  fields,  and  meadows  alternate 
with  sugar-maple  groves,  and  in  its  fair  bosom  reflects  beautiful 
landscape  views,  that  are  changed  and  rebeautified  by  the  master- 


FROM  THE   GREAT  PLAINS   TO  THE  ATLANTIC.  83 

hand  of  the  sun  every  hour  of  the  day,  and  doubly  embeUished  at 
night  by  the  moon.  It  is  whispered  that  during  "  the  late  un- 
pleasantness "  the  Ohio  regiments  could  out-yell  the  Louisiana 
tigers,  or  any  other  Confederate  troops,  two  to  one.  Who  has  not 
heard  the  "  Ohio  yell  ?  "  Most  people  are  magnanimously  inclined 
to  regard  this  rumor  as  simply  a  "  gag  "  on  the  Buckeye  boys  ;  but 
it  isn't.  The  Ohioans  are  to  the  manner  born  ;  the  "  Buckeye 
yell "  is  a  tangible  fact.  AU  along  the  Maumee  it  resounds  in  my 
ears ;  nearly  every  man  or  boy,  who  from  the  fields,  far  or  near, 
sees  me  bowling  along  the  road,  straightway  delivers  himself  of  a 
yeU,  pure  and  simple.  At  Perrysburg  I  strike  the  famous  "  Mau- 
mee pike " — forty  mUes  of  stone  road,  almost  a  dead  level.  The 
western  half  is  kept  in  rather  poor  repair  these  days  ;  but  from 
Fremont  eastward  it  is  splendid  wheeling.  The  atmosphere  of 
BeUevue  is  blue  with  politics,  and  myself  and  another  innocent, 
unsuspecting  individual,  hailing  from  New  York,  are  enticed  into 
apolitical  meeting  by  a  wily  politician,  and  dexterously  made  to 
pose  before  the  assembled  company  as  two  gentlemen  who  have 
come — one  from  the  Atlantic,  the  other  from  the  Pacific — to  wit- 
ness the  overwhelming  success  of  the  only  honest,  horny-handed, 
double-breasted  patriots — the  .  .  .  party.  The  roads  are 
found  rather  sandy  east  of  the  pike,  and  the  roadful  of  wagons  go- 
ing to  the  cu-cus,  which  exhibits  to-day  at  Norwalk,  causes  consid- 
erable annoyance. 

Erie  County,  through  which  I  am  now  passing,  is  one  of  the 
finest  fruit  countries  in  the  world,  and  many  of  the  farmers  keep 
open  orchard.  Staying  at  Eidgeville  overnight,  I  roll  into  Cleveland, 
and  into  the  out-stretched  arms  of  a  policeman,  at  10  o'clock,  next 
morning.  "  He  was  violating  the  city  ordinance  by  riding  on  the 
sidewalk,"  the  arresting  policeman  informs  the  captain.  "  Ah !  he 
was,  hey ! "  thunders  the  captain,  in  a  hoarse,  bass  voice  that 
causes  my  knees  to  knock  together  with  fear  and  trembling  ;  and 
the  captain's  eye  seems  to  look  clear  through  my  trembling  form. 
"  P-1-e-a-s-e,  s-i-r,  I  d-i-d-n't  t-r-y  t-o  d-o  i-t,"  I  falter,  in  a  weak, 
gasping  voice  that  brings  tears  to  the  eyes  of  the  assembled  officers 
and  melts  the  captain's  heart,  so  that  he  is  already  wavering  be- 
tween justice  and  mercy  when  a  local  wheelman  comes  gallantly  to 
the  rescue,  and  explains  my  natural  ignorance  of  Cleveland's  city 
laws,  and  I  breathe  the  joyous  air  of  freedom  once  again. 

Three  members  of  the  Cleveland  Bicycle  Club  and  a  visiting 


84  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

wheelman  accompany  me  ten  miles  out,  riding  down  far-famed  Eu- 
clid Avenue,  and  calling  at  Lake  View  Cemetery  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Garfield's  tomb.  I  bid  them  farewell  at  Euclid  village.  Following 
the  ridge  road  leading  along  the  shore  of  Lake  Erie  to  Buffalo,  I 
ride  through  a  most  beautiful  farming  country,  passing  through 
"Willoughby  and  Mentor — Garfield's  old  home.  Splendidly  kept 
roads  pass  between  avenues  of  stately  maples,  that  cast  a  grateful 
shade  athwart  the  highway,  both  sides  of  which  are  lined  with 
magnificent  farms,  whose  fields  and  meadows  fairly  groan  bebeath 
their  wealth  of  produce,  whose  fructiferous  orchards  are  marvels 
of  productiveness,  and  whose  barns  and  stables  would  be  veritable 
palaces  to  the  sod-housed  homesteaders  on  Nebraska's  frontier 
prairies.  Prominent  among  them  stands  the  old  Garfield  home- 
stead— a  fine  farm  of  one  hundred  and  sixty-five  acres,  at  present 
managed  by  Mrs.  Garfield's  brother.  Smiling  villages  nestling 
amid  stately  groves,  rearing  white  church-spires  from  out  their 
green,  bowery  surroundings,  dot  the  low,  broad,  fertile  shore-land 
to  the  left ;  the  gleaming  waters  of  Lake  Erie  here  and  there  glisten 
like  burnished  steel  through  the  distant  interspaces,  and  away  be- 
yond stretches  northward,  like  a  vast  mirror,  to  kiss  the  blue  Cana- 
dian skies. 

Near  Conneaut  I  whirl  the  dust  of  the  Buckeye  State  from  my 
tire  and  cross  over  into  Pennsylvania,  where,  from  the  little  hamlet 
of  Springfield,  the  roads  become  good,  then  better,  and  finally  best 
at  Girard — the  home  of  the  veteran  showman,  Dan  Eice,  the  beau- 
tifying works  of  whose  generous  hand  are  everywhere  visible  in  his 
native  town.  Splendid  is  the  road  and  delightful  the  country  com- 
ing east  from  Girard  ;  even  the  red  brick  school-houses  are  embow- 
ered amid  leafy  groves ;  and  so  it  continues  with  ever-varying,  ever- 
pleasing  beauty  to  Erie,  after  which  the  highway  becomes  hardly 
so  good. 

Twenty-four  hours  after  entering  Pennsylvania  I  make  my  exit 
across  the  boundary  into  the  Empire  State.  The  roads  continue 
good,  and  after  dinner  I  reach  Westfield,  six  miles  from  the  famous 
Lake  Chautauqua,  which  beautiful  hill  and  forest  embowered  sheet 
of  water  is  popularly  believed  by  many  of  its  numerous  local  admirers 
to  be  the  highest  navigable  lake  in  the  world.  If  so,  however,  Lake 
Tahoe  in  the  Sierra  Nevada  Mountains  comes  next,  as  it  is  about  six 
thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  and  has  three  steamers  ply- 
ing on  its  waters !     At  Fredonia  I  am  shown  through  the  celebrated 


FROM   THE   GREAT  PLAINS   TO   THE   ATLANTIC.  85 

watcli-movemeut  factory  here,  by  the  captain  of  the  Fredonia  Club, 
who  accompanies  me  to  Silver  Creek,  where  we  call  on  another  en- 
thusiastic wheelman — a  physician  who  uses  the  wheel  in  preference 
to  a  horse,  in  making  professional  calls  throughout  the  surround- 
ing country.  Taking  supper  with  the  genial  "Doc,"  they  both 
accompany  me  to  the  summit  of  a  steep  hill  leading  up  out  of  the 
creek  bottom.  No  wheelman  has  ever  yet  rode  up  this  hill,  save 
the  muscular  and  gritty  captain  of  the  Fredonia  Club,  though  sev- 
eral have  attempted  the  feat.  From  the  top  my  road  ahead  is 
plainly  visible  for  miles,  leading  through  the  broad  and  smiling 
Cattaraugus  Valley  that  is  spread  out  like  a  vast  garden  below, 
through  which  Cattaraugus  Creek  slowly  winds  its  tortuous  way. 
Stopping  over  night  at  Angola  I  proceed  to  Buffalo  next  morning, 
catching  the  first  glimpse  of  that  important  "  seaport  of  the  lakes," 
where,  fifteen  miles  across  the  bay,  the  wagon-road  is  almost  licked 
by  the  swashing  waves ;  and  entering  the  city  over  a  "  misfit"  plank- 
road,  oS  which  I  am  almost  upset  by  the  most  audaciously  indiffer- 
ent woman  in  the  world.  A  market  woman  homeward  bound  with 
her  empty  truck-wagon,  recognizes  my  road-rights  to  the  extent  of 
barely  room  to  squeeze  past  between  her  wagon  and  the  ditch  ;  and 
holds  her  long,  stiff  buggy-whip  so  that  it  "  swipes  "  me  viciously 
across  the  face,  knocks  my  helmet  off  into  the  mud  ditch,  and  well- 
nigh  upsets  me  into  the  same.  The  woman — a  crimson-crested  blonde 
— jogs  serenely  along  without  even  deigning  to  turn  her  head. 

Leaving  the  bicycle  at  "Isham's  " — who  volunteers  some  slight  re- 
pairs— I  take  a  flying  visit  by  rail  to  see  Niagara  Falls,  returning  the 
same  evening  to  enjoy  the  proffered  hospitality  of  a  genial  member  of 
the  Buffalo  Bicycle  Club.  Seated  on  the  piazza  of  his  residence,  on 
Delaware  Avenue,  this  evening,  the  symphonious  voice  of  the  club- 
whistle  is  cast  a'drift  whenever  the  glowing  orb  of  a  cycle-lamp 
heaves  in  sight  through  the  darkness,  and  several  members  of  the 
club  are  thus  rounded  up  and  their  hearts  captured  by  the  witchery 
of  a  smile — a  "  smile ''  in  Buffalo,  I  hasten  to  explain,  is  no  kin  what- 
ever to  a  Rocky  Mountain  "  smile  " — far  be  it  from  it !  This  club- 
whistle  of  the  Buffalo  Bicycle  Club  happens  to  sing  the  same  melo- 
dious son  g  as  the  police-whistle  at  Washington,  D.  C. ;  and  the  Buffalo 
cyclers  who  graced  the  national  league-meet  at  the  Capital  with 
their  presence  took  a  folio  of  club  music  along.  A  small  but  frolic- 
some party  of  them  on  top  of  the  Washington  monument,  "heaved 
a  sigh  "  from  their  whistles,  at  a  comrade  passing  along  the  street 


86  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIEBAN. 

below,  •when  a  corpulent  policeman,  naturally  mistaking  it  for  a 
signal  from  a  brother  "cop,"  hastened  to  cHmb  the  five  hundred 
feet  or  thereabouts  of  asceiit  up  the  monument.  When  he  arrived, 
puffing  and  perspiring,  to  the  summit,  and  discovered  his  mistake, 
the  wheelmen  say  he  made  such  awful  use  of  the  Queen's  English 
that  the  atmosphere  had  a  blue,  sulphurous  tinge  about  it  for  some 
time  after. 

Leaving  Buffalo  next  moKning  I  pass  through  Batavia,  where 
the  wheelmen  have  a  most  aesthetic  little  club-room.  Besides  be- 
ing jovial  and  whole-souled  fellows,  they  are  awfully  aesthetic  ;  and 
the  sweetest  little  Japanese  curios  and  bric-d-brac  decorate  the  walls 
and  tables. 

Stopping  over  night  at  LeEoy,  in  company  with  the  president 
and  captain  of  the  LeEoy  Club,  I  visit  the  State  fish-hatchery  at 
Mumford  next  morning,  and  ride  on  through  the  Genesee  Valley, 
finding  fair  roads  through  the  valley,  though  somewhat  hilly  and 
stony  toward  Canandaigua.  Inquiring  the  best  road  to  Geneva  I 
am  advised  of  the  superiority  of  the  one  leading  past  the  poor- 
house.  Finding  them  somewhat  intricate,  and  being  too  super- 
sensitive to  stop  people  and  ask  them  the  road  to  the  poor-house, 
I  deservedly  get  lost,  and  am  wandering  erratically  eastward 
through  the  darkness,  when  I  fortunately  meet  a  wheelman  in 
a  buggy,  who  directs  me  to  his  mother's  farm-house  near  by, 
with  instructions  to.  that  most  excellent  lady  to  accommodate  me 
for  the  night.  Nine  o'clock  next  morning  I-  reach  fair  Geneva,  so 
beautifully  situated  on  Seneca's  silvery  lake,  passing  the  State  agri- 
cultural farm  en  route  ;  continuing  on  up  the  Seneca  River,  passing 
through  Waterloo  and  Seneca  Falls  to  Cayuga,  and  from  thence  to 
Auburn  and  Skaneateles,  where  I  heave  a  sigh  at  the  thoughts  of 
leaving  the  last — I  cannot  say  the  loveliest,  for  all  are  equally  lovely 
— of  that  beautiful  chain  of  lakes  that  transforms  this  part  of  New 
York  State  into  a  vast  and  delightful  summer  resort. 

"Down  a  romantic-  Swiss  glen,  where  scores  of  sylvan  nooks 
and  rippUng  rills  invite  one  to  cast  about  for  fairies  and  sprites,''  is 
the  word  descriptive  of  my  route  from  Marcellus  next  morning. 
Once  again,  on  nearing  the  CamiUus  outlet  from  the  narrow  vale,  I 
hear  the  sound  of  Sunday  bells,  and  after  the  chutch-bell-less 
Western  wilds,  it  seems  to  me  that  their  notes  have  visited  me 
amid  beautiful  scenes,  strangely  often  of  late.  Arriving  at  Camil- 
lus,  I  ask  the  name  of  the  sparkling  little  stream  that  dances  along 


^^  c- 


88  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

this  fairy  glen  like  a  child  at  play,  absorbing  the  sun- rays  and 
coquettishly  reflecting  them  in  the  faces  of  the  venerable  oaks  that 
bend  over  it  like  loving  guardians  protecting  it  from  evil  My  ears 
are  prepared  to  hear  a  musical  Indian  name — "  Laughing- Waters  " 
at  least ;  but,  like  a  week's  washing  ruthlessly  intruding  upon  love's 
young  dream,  falls  on  my  waiting  ears  the  uupoetic  misnomer, 
"  Nine-Mile  Creek." 

Over  good  roads  to  Syracuse,  and  from  thence  my  route  leads 
down  the  Erie  Canal,  alternately  riding  down  the  canal  tow-path, 
the  wagon-roads,  and  between  the  tracks  of  the  New  York  Central 
Railway.  On  the  former,  the  greatest  drawback  to  peaceful  cycling 
is  the  towing-mule  and  his  unwarrantable  animosity  toward  the 
bicycle,  and  the  awful,  unmentionable  profanity  engendered  there- 
by in  the  utterances  of  the  boatmen.  Sometimes  the  burden  of 
this  sulphurous  profanity  is  aimed  at  me,  sometimes  at  the  inoffen- 
sive bicycle,  or  both  of  us  collectively,  but  oftener  is  it  directed  at 
the  unspeakable  mule,  who  is  really  the  only  party  to  blame.  A 
mule  scares,  not  because  he  is  really  afraid,  but  because  he  feels 
skittishly  inclined  to  turn  back,  or  to  make  trouble  between  his 
enemies — the  boatmen,  his  task-master,  and  the  cycler,  an  intruder 
on  his  exclusive  domain,  the  Erie  tow-path.  A  span  of  mules  will 
pretend  to  scare,  whirl  around,  and  jerk  loose  from  the  driver,  and 
go  "scooting"  back  down  the  tow-path  in  a  manner  indicating  that 
nothing  less  than  a  stone  wall  would  stop  them ;  but,  exactly  in 
the  nick  of  time  to  prevent  the  tow-line  jerking  them  sidewise 
into  the  canal,  they  stop.  Trust  a  mule  for  never  losing  his  head 
when  he  runs  away,  as  does  his  hot-headed  relative,  the  horse  ;  he 
never  once  allows  surrounding  circumstances  to  occupy  his  thoughts 
to  an  extent  detrimental  to  his  own  self-preservative  interests.  The 
Erie  Canal  mule's  first  mission  in  life  is  to  engender  profanity  and 
strife  between  boatmen  and  cyclists,  and  the  second  is  to  work  and 
chew  hay,  which  brings  him  out  about  even  with  the  world  aU 
round. 

At  Rome  I  enter  the  famous  and  beautiful  Mohawk  Valley,  a 
place  long  looked  foj'ward  to  with  much  pleasurable  anticipation, 
from  having  heai;d  so  often  of  its  natural  beauties  and  its  interest- 
ing historical  associations.  "  It's  the  garden  spot  of  the  world  ■ 
and  travellers  who  have  been  all  over  Europe  and  everywhere,  say 
there's  nothing  in  the  world  to  equal  the  quiet  landscape  beauty 
of  the  Mohawk  Valley,''  entlmsiastically  remai'ks  an  old  gentelman 


FROM  THE  GKEAT  PLAINS  TO  THE  ATLANTIC.     89 

in  spectacles,  wliom  I  cbance  to  encounter  on  the  heights  east  of 
Herkimer.  Of  the  first  assertion  I  have  nothing  to  say,  having 
passed  through  a  dozen  "  garden  spots  of  the  world  "  on  this  tour 
across  America  ;  but  there  is  no  gainsaying  the  fact  that  the  Mohawk 
Valley,  as  viewed  from  this  vantage  spot,  is  wonderfully  beautiful. 
I  think  it  must  have  been  on  this  spot  that  the  poet  received  in- 
spiration to  compose  the  beautiful  song  that  is  sung  alike  in  the 
quiet  homes  of  the  valley  itself  and  in  the  trapper's  and  hunter's 
tent  on  the  far  off  Yellowstone — 

"  Fair  is  the  vale  where  the  Mohawk  gently  glides, 
On  its  clear,  shining  way  to  the  sea." 

The  valley  is  one  of  the  natural  gateways  of  commerce,  for,  at  Lit- 
tle Falls — where  it  contracts  to  a  mere  pass  between  the  hills — one 
can  almost  throw  a  stone  across  six  railway  tracks,  the  Erie  Canal 
and  the  Mohawk  River.  Spending  an  hour  looking  over  the  mag- 
nificent Capitol  building  at  Albany,  I  cross  the  Hudson,  and 
proceed  to  ride  eastward  between  the  two  tracks  of  the  Boston  & 
Albany  Eailroad,  finding  the  riding  very  fair.  From  the  elevated 
road-bed  I  cast  a  longing,  lingering  look  down  the  Hudson  Valley, 
that  stretches  away  southward  like  a  heaven-born  dream,  and 
sigh  at  the  impossibility  of  going  two  ways  at  once.  "There's 
$50  fine  for  riding  a  bicycle  along  the  B.  &  A.  Eailroad,"  I  am 
informed  at  Albany,  but  risk  it  to  Schodack,  where  I  make  inquiries 
of  a  section  foreman.  "No  ;  there's  no  foine  ;  but  av  yeez  are  run 
over  an'  git  killed,  it'll  be  useless  for  yeez  to  inther  suit  agin  the 
company  for  damages,"  is  the  reassuring  reply  ;  and  the  unpleasant 
visions  of  bankrupting  fines  dissolve  in  a  smile  at  this  characteristic 
Milesian  explanation. 

Crossing  the  Massachusetts  boundary  at  the  village  of  State 
Line,  I  find  the  roads  excellent ;  and,  thinking  that  the  highways 
of  the  "Old  Bay  State "wiU  be  good  enough  anywhere,  I  grow 
careless  about  the  minute  directions  given  me  by  Albany  wheel- 
men, and,  ere  long,  am  laboriously  toiling  over  the  heavy  roads 
and  steep  grades  of  the  Berkshire  Hills,  endeavoring  to  get  what 
consolation  I  can,  in  return  for  unridable  roads,  out  of  the  charming 
scenery,  and  the  many  interesting  features  of  the  Berkshire-Hill 
country.  It  is  at  Otis,  in  the  midst  of  these  hills,  that  I  first  be- 
come acquainted  with  the  peculiar  New  England  dialect  in  its  na- 
tive home. 


90  FROM   SAN  FEANCISCO 'to   TEHEKAN. 

The  widely  heralded  intellectual  superiority  of  the  Massachusetts 
fair  ones  asserts  itself  even  in  the  wildest  parts  of  these  wild  hills  ; 
for  at  small  farms — that,  in  most  States,  would  be  characterized  by 
bare-footed,  brown-faced  housewives — I  encounter  spectacled  ladies 
whose  fair  faces  reflect  the  encyclopEedia  of  knowledge  within,  and 
whose  wise  looks  naturally  fill  me  with  awe.  At  Westfield  I  learn 
that  Karl  Kron,  the  author  and  publisher  of  the  American  road- 
book, "  Ten  Thousand  Miles  on  a  Bicycle" — not  to  be  outdone  by 
my  exploit  of  floating  the  bicycle  across  the  Humboldt — undertook 
the  perilous  feat  of  swimming  the  Potomac  with  his  bicycle  sus- 
pended at  his  waist,  and  had  to  be  fished  up  from  the  bottom  with 
a  boat-hook.  Since  then,  however,  I  have  seen  the  gentleman 
himself,  who  assures  me  that  the  whole  story  is  a  canard.  Over 
good  roads  to  Springfield — and  on  through  to  Palmer  ;  from 
thence  riding  the  whole  distance  to  Worcester  between  the  tracks 
of  the  railway,  in  preference  to  the  variable  country  roads. 

On  to  Boston  next  morning,  now  only  forty  miles  away,  I  pass 
venerable  weather-worn  mUe-stones,  set  up  in  old  colonial  days, 
when  the  Great  West,  now  trailed  across  -with,  the  rubber  hoof- 
marks  of  "  the  popular  steed  of  to-day,"  was  a  pathless  wilderness, 
and  on  the  maps  a  blank.  Striking  the  famous  "sand-papered 
roads  "  at  Framingham — which,  by  the  by,  ought  to  be  pumice- 
stoned  a  little  to  make  them  as  good  for  cycling  as  stretches  of 
gravelled  road  near  Springfield,  Sandwich,  and  Piano,  111.  ;  La 
Porte,  and  South  Bend,  Ind.  ;  Mentor,  and  WUloughby,  O. ;  Gir- 
ard,  Penn. ;  several  places  on  the  ridge  road  between  Erie  and 
Buffalo,  and  the  alkali  flats  of  the  Eocky  Mountain  territories. 
Soon  the  blue  intellectual  haze  hovering  over  "  the  Hub "  heaves 
in  sight,  and,  at  two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  August  4th,  I  roll 
into  Boston,  and  whisper  to  the  wild  waves  of  the  sounding  At- 
lantic what  the  sad  sea-waves  of  the  Pacific  were  saying  when  I 
left  there,  just  one  hundred  and  three  and  a  half  days  ago,  having 
wheeled  about  3,700  miles  to  deliver  the  message. 

Passing  the  winter  of  1884-85  in  New  York,  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  Outing  Magazine,  contributed  to  it  sketches  of  my  tour 
across  America,  and  in  the  Spring  of  1885  continued  around  the 
world  as  its  special  correspondent ;  embarking  April  9th  from 
New  York,  for  Livei'pool,  aboard  the  City  of  Chicago, 


CllAPTEE  V. 

FROM  AMERICA  TO  THE  GERMAN  FRONTIER. 

At  one  p.m.,  on  that  day,  the  ponderous  but  shapely  hull  of  the 
City  of  Chicago,  with  its  li-ving  and  lively  freight,  moves  from 
the  dock  as  though  it,  too,  were  endowed  with  mind  as  weU  as 
matter  ;  the  crowds  that  a  minute  ago  disappeared  down  the  gang- 
plank are  now  congregated  on  the  outer  end  of  the  pier,  a  compact 
mass  of  waving  handkerchiefs,  and  anxious-faced  people  shouting 
out  signs  of  recognition  to  friends  aboard  the  departing  steamer. 

From  beginning  to  end  of  the  voyage  across  the  Atlantic  the 
weather  is  delightful ;  and  the  passengers — well,  half  the  cabin- 
passengers  are  members  of  Henry  Irving's  Lyceum  Company  en 
route  home  after  their  second  successful  tour  in  America ;  and  old 
voyagers  abroad  who  have  crossed  the  Atlantic  scores  of  times  pro- 
nounce it  altogether  the  most  enjoyable  trip  they  ever  experienced. 
The  third  day  out  we  encountered  a  lonesome-looking  iceberg — an 
object  that  the  captain  seemed  to  think  would  be  better  appreci- 
ated, and  possibly  more  affectionately  remembered,  if  viewed  at 
the  respectful  distance  of  about  four  miles.  It  proves  a  cold,  un- 
sympathetic berg,  yet  extremely  entertaining  in  its  own  way,  since 
it  accommodates  us  by  neutralizing  pretty  much  aU  the  surplus 
caloric  in  the  atmosphere  around  for  hours  after  it  has  disappeared 
below  the  horizon  of  our  vision. 

I  am  particularly  fortunate  in  finding  among  my  fellow-passen- 
gers Mr.  Harry  B.  French,  the  traveller  and  author,  from  whom 
I  obtain  much  valuable  information,  particularly  of  China.  Mr. 
French  has  travelled  some  distance  through  the  Flowery  Kingdom 
himself,  and  thoughtfully  forewarns  me  to  anticipate  a  particularly 
lively  and  interesting  time  in  invading  that  country  with  a  vehicle 
so  strange  and  incomprehensible  to  the  Celestial  mind  as  a  bicycle. 
This  experienced  gentleman  informs  me,  among  other  interesting 
things,  that  if  five  hundred  chattering  Celestials  batter  down  the 
door  and  swarm  unannounced  at  midnight  into  the  apartment  where 


92  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN". 

I  am  endeavoring  to  get  the  first  wink  of  sleep  obtained  for  a  whole 
week,  instead  of  following  the  natural  inclinations  of  an  Anglo- 
Saxon  to  energetically  defend  his  rights  with  a  stuffed  club,  I  shall 
display  Solomon-hke  wisdom  by  quietly  submitting  to  the  invasion, 
and  deferentially  bowing  to  Chinese  inquisitiveness.  If,  on  an  oc- 
casion of  this  nature,  one  stationed  himself  behind  the  door,  and, 
as  a  sort  of  preliminary  warning  to  the  others,  greeted  the  first 
interloper  with  the  business  end  of  a  boot-jack,  he  would  be  morally 
certain  of  a  lively  one-sided  misunderstanding  that  might  end  dis- 
astrously to  himself ;  whereas,  by  meekly  submitting  to  a  critical 
and  exhaustive  examination  by  the  assembled  company,  he  might 
even  become  the  recipient  of  an  apology  for  having  had  to  batter 
down  the  door  in  order  to  satisfy  their  curiosity.  One  needs  more 
discretion  than  valor  in  dealing  with  the  Chinese. 

At  noon  on  the  19th  we  reach  Liverpool,  where  I  find  a  letter 
awaiting  me  from  A.  J.  Wilson  (Paed),  inviting  me  to  call  on  him 
at  Powerscroft  House,  London,  and  offering  to  tandem  me  through 
the  intricate  mazes  of  the  West  End  ;  likewise  asking  whether  it 
would  be  agreeable  to  have  him,  with  others,  accompany  me  from 
London  down  to  the  South  coast — a  programme  to  which,  it  is  need- 
less to  say,  I  entertain  no  objections.  As  the  custom-house  ofScer 
wrenches  a  board  off  the  broad,  flat  box  containing  my  American 
bicycle,  several  fellow-passengers,  prompted  by  their  curiosity  to 
obtain  a  peep  at  the  machine  which  they  have  learned  is  to  carry 
me  around  the  world,  gather  alsout ;  and  one  sympathetic  lady,  as 
she  catches  a  gUmpse  of  the  bright  nickeled  forks,  exclaims,  "  Oh, 
what  a  shame  that  they  should  be  allowed  to  wrench  the  planks  off ! 
They  might  injure  it;"  but  a  small  tip  thoroughly  convinces  the 
individual  prying  off  the  board  that,  by  removing  one  section  and 
taking  a  conscientious  squint  in  the  direction  of  the  closed  end,  his 
duty  to  the  British  government  would  be  performed  as  faithfully  as 
though  everything  were  laid  bare  ;  and  the  kind-hearted  lady's  ap- 
prehensions of  possible  injury  are  thus  happily  allayed.  In  two 
hours  after  landing,  the  bicycle  is  safely  stowed  away  in  the  un- 
derground store-rooms  of  the  Liverpool  &  Northwestern  Railway 
Company,  and  in  two  hours  more  I  am  wheeUng  rapidly  toward 
London,  through  neatly  cultivated  fields,  and  meadows  and  parks 
of  that  intense  greenness  met  with  nowhere  save  in  the  British 
Isles,  and  which  causes  a  couple  of  native  Americans,  riding  in  the 
same  compartment,  and  who  are  visiting  England  for  the  first 


FROM    AMERICA   TO   THE   GERMAN   FRONTIER.  93 

time,  to  express  their  admiration  of  it  all  in  tbe  unmeasured  lan- 
guage of  the  genuine  Yankee  when  truly  astonished  find  delighted. 

Arriving  in  London  I  lose  no  time  in  seeking  out  Mr.  Bolton,  a 
■well-known  wheelman,  who  has  toured  on  the  continent  probably 
as  extensively  as  any  other  English  cycler,  and  to  whom  I  bear  a 
letter  of  introduction.  Together,  on  Monday  afternoon,  we  ruth- 
lessly invade  the  sanctums  of  the  leading  cycling  papers  in  London. 
Mr.  Bolton  is  also  able  to  give  me  several  useful  hints  concerning 
wheeling  through  France  and  Germany.  Then  comes  the  appUca- 
tion  for  a  passport,  and  the  inevitable  unpleasantness  of  being  sus- 
pected by  every  policeman  and  detective  about  the  government 
buildings  of  being  a  wild-eyed  dynamiter  recently  arrived  from 
America  with  the  fell  purpose  of  blowing  up  the  place. 

On  Tuesday  I  make  a  formal  descent  on  the  Chinese  Embassy, 
to  seek  information  regarding  the  possibiHty  of  making  a  serpen- 
tine trail  through  the  Flowery  Kingdom  via  Upper  Burmah  to 
Hong-Kong  or  Shanghai.  Here  I  learn  from  Dr.  McCarty,  the  in- 
terpreter at  the  Embassy,  as  from  Mr.  French,  that,  putting  it  as 
mildly  as  possible,  I  must  expect  a  wild  time  generally  in  getting 
through  the  interior  of  China  with  a  bicycle.  The  Doctor  feels 
certain  that  I  may  reasonably  anticipate  the  pleasure  of  making  my 
way  through  a  howling  wilderness  of  hooting  Celestials  from  one 
end  of  the  country  to  the  other.  The  great  danger,  he  thinks,  -will 
be  not  so  much  the  well-known  aversion  of  the  Chinese  to  having 
an  "  outer  bai-barian  "  penetrate  the  sacred  interior  of  their  coun- 
try, as  the  enormous  crowds  that  would  almost  constantly  surround 
me  out  of  curiosity  at  both  rider  and  wheel,  and  the  moral  cer- 
tainty of  a  foreigner  unwittingly  doing  something  to  offend  the 
Chinamen's  peculiar  and  deep-rooted  notions  of  propriety.  This, 
it  is  easily  seen,  would  be  a  peculiarly  ticklish  thing  to  do  when 
surrounded  by  surging  masses  of  dangling  pig-tails  and  cerulean 
blouses,  the  wearers  of  which  are  from  the  start  predisposed  to 
make  things  as  unpleasant  as  possible.  My  own  experience  alone, 
however,  will  prove  the  kind  of  reception  I  am  likely  to  meet  with 
among  them  ;  and  if  they  will  only  considerately  refrain  from  im- 
paling me  on  a  bamboo,  after  a  barbarous  and  highly  ingenious 
custom  of  theirs,  I  httle  reck  what  other  unpleasantries  they  have 
in  store.  After  one  remains  in  the  world  long  enough  to  find  it 
out,  he  usually  becomes  less  fastidious  about  the  future  of  things 
in  general,  than  when  in  the  hopeful  days  of  boyhood  every  pros- 


94  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

pect  ahead  was  fringed  ■with  the  golden  expectations  of  a  budding 
and  inexperienced  imagery  ;  nevertheless,  a  thoughtful,  meditative 
person,  who  realizes  the  necessity  of  drawing  the  line  somewhere, 
would  naturally  draw  it  at  impalation.  Not  being  conscious  of  any 
presentiment  savoring  of  impalation,  however,  the  only  request  I 
make  of  the  Chinese,  at  present,  is  to  place  no  insurmountable 
obstacle  against  my  pursuing  the  even— or  uneven,  as  the  case  may 
be — tenor  of  my  way  through  their  country.  China,  though,  is  sev- 
eral revolutions  of  my  fifty-inch  wheel  away  to  the  eastward,  at  this 
present  time  of  writing,  and  speculations  in  regard  to  it  are  rather 
premature. 

Soon  after  reaching  London  I  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
"Faed,"a  gentleman  who  carries  his  cycling  enthusiasm  almost 
where  some  people  are  said  to  carry  their  hearts — on  his  sleeve  ; 
so  that  a  very  short  acquaintance  only  is  necessary  to  convince  one 
of  being  in  the  company  of  a  person  whose  interest  in  whirling 
wheels  is  of  no  ordinary  nature.  When  I  present  myself  at  Powers- 
croft  House,  Faed  is  busily  wandering  around  among  the  curves  and 
angles  of  no  less  than  three  tricycles,  apparently  endeavoring  to 
encompass  the  complicated  mechanism  of  all  three  in  one  grand  com- 
prehensive effort  of  the  mind,  and  the  addition  of  as  many  tricycle 
crates  standing  around  makes  the  premises  so  suggestive  of  a  flour- 
ishing tricycle  agency  that  an  old  gentleman,  happening  to  pass  by 
at  the  moment,  is  really  quite  excusable  in  stopping  and  inquirin"' 
the  prices,  with  a  view  to  purchasing  one  for  himself.  Our  tandem 
ride  through  the  West  End  has  to  be  indefinitely  postponed,  on 
account  of  my  time  being  limited,  and  our  inability  to  procure 
readily  a  suitable  machine ;  and  Mr.  Wilson's  bump  of  discretion 
would  not  permit  him  to  think  of  allowing  me  to  attempt  the  feat 
of  manoeuvring  a  tricycle  myself  among  the  bewildering  traffic  of 
the  metropolis,  and  risk  bringing  my  "  wheel  around  the  world"  to 
an  inglorious  conclusion  before  being  fairly  begun.  While  walking 
down  Parliament  Street  my  attention  is  called  to  a  venerable-look- 
ing gentleman  wheeling  briskly  along  among  the  throngs  of 
vehicles  of  every  description,  and  I  am  informed  that  the  bold  tri- 
cycler  is  none  other  than  Major  Knox  Holmes,  a  vigorous  youth  of 
some  seventy-eight  summers,  who  has  recently  accomplished  the 
feat  of  riding  one  hundred  and  fourteen  miles  in  ten  hours  •  for  a 
person  nearly  eighty  years  of  age  this  is  really  quite  a  promising 
performance,  and  there  is  small  doubt  but  that  when  the  gallant 


FROM   AMERICA   TO   THE  GERMAN   FRONTIER.  95 

Major  gets  a  littie  older — say  •when  he  becomes  a  centenarian — he 
will  develop  into  a  veritable  prodigy  on  the  cinder-path ! 

Having  obtained  my  passport,  and  got  it  vis^  for  the  Sultan's 
dominions  at  the  Tui-kish  consulate,  and  placed  in  Faed's  possess- 
ion a  bundle  of  maps,  which  he  generously  volunteers  to  forwai-d 
to  me,  as  I  require  them  in  the  various  counti-ies  it  is  proposed  to 
ti-averse,  I  retui-n  on  April  30th  to  Liverpool,  from  which  point  the 
formal  start  on  the  wheel  across  England  is  to  be  made.  Four 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  May  2d  is  the  time  announced,  and 
Edge  Hill  Chui-ch  is  the  appointed  place,  where  Mi-.  Lawrence 
Fletcher,  of  the  Anfield  Bicycle  Club,  and  a  number  of  other  Liver- 
pool wheelmen,  have  volunteered  to  meet  and  accompany  me  some 
distance  out  of  the  city.  Several  of  the  Liverpool  daily  papers  have 
made  mention  of  the  affair.  Accordingly,  upon  arriving  at  the  ap- 
pointed place  and  time,  I  find  a  crowd  of  several  hundred  people 
gathered  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  as  to  what  sort  of  a  looking  indi- 
vidual it  is  who  has  crossed  America  awheel,  and  furthermore  pro- 
poses to  accomplish  the  greater  feat  of  the  circumlocution  of  the 
globe.  A  small  sea  of  hats  is  enthusiastically  waved  aloft ;  a  ripple 
of  applause  escapes  from  five  hundred  English  throats  as  I  mount 
my  glistening  bicycle  ;  and,  with  the  assistance  of  a  few  policemen, 
the  twenty-five  Liverpool  cyclers  who  have  assembled  to  accompany 
me  out,  extricate  themselves  from  the  crowd,  mount  and  fall  into 
line  two  abreast ;  and  merrily  we  wheel  away  down  Edge  Lane  and 
out  of  Liverpool. 

English  weather  at  this  season  is  notoriously  capricious,  and  the 
present  year  it  is  unusually  so,  and  ere  the  start  is  fairly  made  we 
are  pedaling  along  through  quite  a  pelting  shower,  which,  however, 
fails  to  make  much  impression  on  the  roads  beyond  causing  the 
flinging  of  more  or  less  mud.  The  majority  of  my  escort  are  mem- 
bers of  the  Anfield  Club,  who  have  the  enviable  reputation  of  being 
among  the  hardest  road-riders  in  England,  several  members  having 
accomplished  over  two  hundred  miles  within  the  twenty-four  hours  ; 
and  I  am  informed  that  Mr.  Fletcher  is  soon  to  undertake  the  task 
of  beating  the  tricycle  record  over  that  already  weU-eoutested  route, 
from  John  o'  Groat's  to  Land's  End.  Sixteen  miles  out  I  become  the 
happy  recipient  of  heai-ty  weU-wishes  innumerable,  with  the  accom- 
panying hand-shaking,  and  my  escort  turn  back  toward  home  and 
Livei-pool — all  save  four,  who  wheel  on  to  Wan-ington  and  remain 
overnight,  with  the  avowed  intention  of  accompanying  me  twenty- 


96  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

five  miles  farther  to-morrow  morning.  Our  Sunday  morning  expe- 
rience begins  with  a  shower  of  rain,  which,  however,  augurs  well 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day  ;  and,  save  for  a  gentle  head  wind,  no 
reproachful  remarks  are  heard  about  that  much-criticised  individ- 
ual, the  clerk  of  the  weather ;  especially  as  our  road  leads  through 
a  country  prolific  of  everything  charming  to  one's  sense  of  the  beau- 
tiful. Moreover,  we  are  this  morning  bowling  along  the  self-same 
highway  that  in  days  of  yore  was  among  the  favorite  promenades 
of  a  distinguished  and  enterprising  individual  known  to  every  Brit- 
ish juvenile  as  Dick  Turpin — a  person  who  won  imperishable  re- 
nown, and  the  undying  affection  of  the  small  Briton  of  to-day,  by 
making  it  unsafe  along  here  for  stage-coaches  and  travellers  indis- 
creet enough  to  carry  valuables  about  with  them. 

"  Think  I'll  get  such  roads  as  this  all  through  England  ?  "  I  ask 
of  my  escort  as  we  wheel  joyously  southward  along  smooth,  ma- 
cadamized highways  that  would  make  the  "  sand-papered  roads  " 
around  Boston  seem  almost  unfit  for  cycling  in  comparison,  and 
that  lead  through  picturesque  villages  and  noble  parks  ;  occasion- 
ally catching  a  glimpse  of  a  splendid  old  manor  among  venerable 
trees,  that  makes  one  unconsciously  begin  humming  : — 

"The  ancient  homes  of  England, 
How  beautiful  they  stand 
Amidst  the  tall  ancestral  trees 
O'er  all  the  pleasant  land  !  " 

"  Oh,  you'll  get  much  better  roads  than  this  in  the  southern 
counties,"  is  the  reply  ;  though,  fresh  from  American  roads,  one 
can  scarce  see  what  shape  the  improvements  can  possibly  take. 
Out  of  Lancashire  into  Cheshire  we  wheel,  and  my  escort,  after 
wishing  me  all  manner  of  good  fortune  in  hearty  Lancashire  style, 
wheel  about  and  hie  themselves  back  toward  the  rumble  and  roar 
of  the  world's  greatest  sea-port,  leaving  me  to  pedal  pleasantly 
southward  along  the  green  lanes  and  amid  the  quiet  rural  scenery 
of  Staffordshire  to  Stone,  where  I  remain  Sunday  night.  The  coun- 
try is  favored  with  another  drenching  down-pour  of  rain  during  the 
night,  and  moisture  relentlessly  descends  at  short,  unreliable  in- 
tervals on  Monday  morning,  as  I  proceed  toward  Birmingham. 
Notwithstanding  the  superabundant  moisture  the  morning  ride  is 
a  most  enjoyable  occasion,  requiring  but  a  dash  of  sunshine  to 
make  everything  perfect.     The  mystic  voice  of  the  cuckoo  is  heai-d 


FROM   AMERICA  TO   THE   GERMAN   FRONTIER.  97 

from  many  an  emerald  copse  around  ;  songsters  that  inhabit  only 
the  green  hedges  and  woods  of  "  Merrie  England  "  are  carolling 
their  morning  vespers  in  all  directions  ;  skylarks  are  soaring,  soar- 
ing skyward,  warbling  their  unceasing  pseans  of  praise  as  they  gradu- 
ally ascend  into  cloudland's  shadowy  realms ;  and  occasionally  I 
bowl  along  beneath  an  archway  of  spreading  beeches  that  are  col- 
onized by  crowds  of  noisy  rooks  incessantly  "cawing"  their  ap- 
proval or  disapproval  of  things  in  general.  Surely  England,  with 
its  wellnigh  perfect  roads,  the  wonderful  greenness  of  its  vegeta- 
tion, and  its  roadsters  that  meet  and  regard  their  steel-ribbed 
rivals  with  supreme  indifference,  is  the  natural  paradise  of  'cyclers. 
There  is  no  annoying"  dismounting  for  frightened  horses  on  these 
happy  highways,  for  the  English  horse,  though  spirited  and  brim- 
ful of  fire,  has  long  since  accepted  the  inevitable,  and  either  has 
made  friends  with  the  wheelman  and  his  swifi^winged  steed,  or, 
what  is  equally  agreeable,  maintains  a  haughty  reserve. 

Pushing  along  leisurely,  between  showers,  into  Warwickshire,  I 
reach  Birmingham  about  three  o'clock,  and,  after  spending  an  hoiir 
or  so  looking  over  some  tricycle  works,  and  calling  for  a  leather 
writing-case  they  are  making  especially  for  my  tour,  I  wheel  on  to 
Coventry,  having  the  company  of  Mr.  Priest,  Jr.,  of  the  tricycle 
works,  as  far  as  Stonehouse.  Between  Birmingham  and  Coventry 
the  recent  rainfall  has  evidently  been  less,  and  I  mentally  note  this 
fifteen-mile  stretch  of  road  as  the  finest  traversed  since  leaving 
Liverpool,  both  for  width  and  smoothness  of  surface,  it  being  a 
veritable  boulevard.  Arriving  at  Coventry  I  call  on  "Brother  Stur- 
mey,"  a  gentleman  well  and  favorably  known  to  readers  of  'cycling 
literature  everywhere  ;  and,  as  I  feel  considerably  like  deserving 
reasonably  gentle  treatment  after  perseveringly  pressing  forward 
sixty  miles  in  spite  of  the  rain,  I  request  him  to  steer  me  into  the 
Cyclists'  Touring  Club  Hotel — an  office  which  he  smilingly  i:)ev- 
forms,  and  thoughtfully  admonishes  the  proprietor  to  handle  me 
as  tenderly  as  possible.  I  am  piloted  around  to  take  a  hurried 
glance  at  Coventrj',  visiting,  among  other  objects  of  interest,  the 
Starley  Memorial.  This  memorial  is  interesting  to  'cyclers  from 
having  been  erected  by  public  subscription  in  recognition  of  the 
great  interest  Mr.  Starley  took  in  the  'cycle  industry,  he  having 
been,  in  fact,  the  father  of  the  interest  in  Coventry,  and,  conse- 
quently, the  direct  author  of  the  city's  present  prosperity. 

The  mind  of  the  British  small  boy  along  my  route  has  been 
7 


.98 


FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


taxed  to  its  utmost  to  account  for  my  white  military  helmet,  and 
various  and  interesting  are  the  passing  remarks  heard  in  conse- 
quence. The  most  general  impression  seems  to  be  that  I  am  direct 
from  the  Soudan,  some  youthful  Conservatives  blandly  intimating 


The  Starley  Memorial,  Coventry. 


that  I  am  the  advance-guard  of  a  general  scuttle  of  the  army  out 
of  Egypt,  and  that  presently  whole  regiments  of  white-helmeted 
wheelmen  will  come  whirling  along  the  roads  on  nickel-plated 
steeds,  some  even  going  so  far  as  to  do  me  the  honor  of  callino- 


FROM   AMERICA   TO    THE   GERMAN   FRONTIER. 


99 


me  General  "Wolseley  ;  while  others — rising  young  Liberals,  proba- 
bly— recklessly  call  me  General  Gordon,  intimating  by  this  that  the 
hero  of  Khartoum  was  not  killed,  after  all,  and  is  proving  it  by 
sweeping  through  England  on  a  bicycle,  wearing  a  white  helmet  to 
prove  his  identity ! 

A  pleasant  ride  along  a  splendid  road,  shaded  for  miles  with  rows 
of  spreading  elms,  brings  me  to  the  charming  old  village  of  Dun- 
church,  where  everything  seems  moss-grown  and  venerable  with  age. 
A  squatty,  castle-like  church-tower,  that  has  stood  the  brunt  of 


'-%_^\''-, 


Resting  in  an   English  Village. 


many  centuries,  frowns  down  upon  a  cluster  of  picturesque,  thatched 
cottages  of  primitive  architecture,  and  ivy-clad  from  top  to  bottom  ; 
while,  to  make  the  picture  complete,  there  remain  even  the  old 
wooden  stocks,  through  the  holes  of  which  the  feet  of  boozy  un- 
fortunates were  wont  to  be  unceremoniously  thrust  in  the  good 
old  times  of  rude  simplicity  ;  in  fact,  the  only  really  unprimitive 
building  about  the  place  appears  to  be  a  newlj'  erected  Methodist 
chapel.  It  couldn't  be — no,  of  course  it  couldn't  be  possible,  that 
there  is  any  connecting  link  between  the  American  peculiarity  of 


100  FEOM    SAN   FKANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

elevating  the  feet  on  the  window-sill  or  the  drum  of  the  heating- 
stove  and  this  old-time  custom  of  elevating  the  feet  of  those  of  our 
ancestors  possessed  of  boozy,  hilarious  procUvities  ! 

At  Weedon  Barracks  I  make  a  short  halt  to  watch  the  soldiers 
go  through  the  bayonet  exercises,  and  suffer  myself  to  be  per- 
suaded into  quaffing  a  mug  of  delicious,  creamy  stout  at  the  can- 
teen with  a  genial  old  sergeant,  a  bronzed  veteran  who  has  seen 
active  service  in  several  of  the  tough  expeditions  that  England 
seems  ever  prone  to  undertake  in  various  uncivilized  quarters  of 
the  world ;  after  which  I  wheel  away  over  old  Eoman  military 
roads,  through  Northamptonshire  and  Buckinghamshire,  reaching 
Penny  Stratford  just  in  time  to  find  shelter  against  the  machina- 
tions of  the  weather-clerk,  who,  having  withheld  rain  nearly  all  the 
afternoon,  begins  dispensing  it  again  in  the  gloaming.  It  rains 
uninterruptedly  all  night ;  but,  although  my  route  for  some  miles  is 
now  down  cross-country  lanes,  the  rain  has  only  made  them  rather 
disagreeable,  without  rendering  them  in  any  respect  unridable  ; 
and  although  I  am  among  the  slopes  of  the  Chiltern  Hills,  scarcely 
a  dismount  is  necessary  during  the  forenoon.  Spending  the  night 
at  Berkhamstead,  Hertfordshire,  I  pull  out  toward  London  on 
Thursday  morning,  and  near  Watford  am  highly  gratified  at  meet- 
ing Faed  and  the  captain  of  the  North  London  Tricycle  Club,  who 
have  come  out  on  their  tricycles  from  London  to  meet  and  escort 
me  into  the  metropolis.  At  Faed's  suggestion  I  decide  to  remciu 
over  in  London  untU  Saturday,  to  be  present  at  the  annual  tricycle 
meet  on  Barnes  Common,  and  together  we  wheel  down  the  Edge- 
ware  Koad,  Park  Road,  among  the  fashionable  turnouts  of  Pic- 
cadilly, past  Knightsbridge  and  Brompton  to  the  "  Inventories  " 
Exhibition,  where  we  spend  a  most  enjoyable  afternoon  inspecting 
the  thousand  and  one  material  evidences  of  inventive  genius  from 
the  several  countries  represented. 

Five  hundred  and  twelve  'cyclers,  including  forty-one  tandem 
tricycles  and  fifty  ladies,  ride  in  procession  at  the  Barnes  Common 
meet,  making  quite  an  imposing  array  as  they  wheel  two  abreast 
between  rows  of  enthusiastic  spectators.  Here,  among  a  host  of 
other  wheehng  celebrities,  I  am  introduced  to  Major  Knox  Holmes, 
before  mentioned  as  being  a  gentleman  of  extraordinary  powers  of 
endurance,  considering  his  advanced  age.  After  tea  a  number  of 
tricyclers  accompany  me  down  as  far  as  Croydon,  which  place  we 
enter  to  the  pattering  music  of  a  drenching  rain-storm,  experienc- 


FROM   AMERICA   TO   THE   GERMAN   FRONTIER.  101 

ing  the  accompanying  pleasure  of  a  wet  skin,  etc.  The  threaten- 
ing aspect  of  the  weather  on  the  following  morning  causes  part  of 
our  company  to  hesitate  about  venturing  any  farther  from  Lon- 
don ;  but  Faed  and  three  companions  wheel  with  me  toward 
Brighton  through  a  gentle  morning  shower,  which  soon  clears 
away,  however,  and,  before  long,  the  combination  of  the  splendid 
Sussex  roads,  fine  breezy-weather,  and  lovely  scenery,  amply  repays 
lis  for  the  discomforts  of  yester-eve.  Fourteen  mUes  from  Brigh- 
ton we  are  met  by  eight  members  of  the  Kempton  Bangers  Bicycle 
Club,  who  have  saUied  forth  thus  far  northward  to  escort  us  into 

town  ;  having  done  which,  they  deliver  us  over  to  Mr.  C , 

of  the  Brighton  Tricycle  Club,  and  brother-in-law  to  the  mayor  of 
the  city.  It  is  two  in  the  afternoon.  This  gentleman  straightway 
ingratiates  himself  into  our  united  affections,  and  wins  our  eternal 
gratitude,  by  giving  us  a  regular  wheelman's  dinner,  after  which 
he  places  us  under  still  further  obligations  by  showing  us  as  many 
of  the  lions  of  Brighton  as  are  accessible  on  Sunday,  chief  among 
which  is  the  famous  Brighton  Aquarium,  where,  by  his  influence, 
he  kindly  has  the  diving-birds  and  seals  fed  before  their  usual 
hour,  for  our  especial  delectation — a  proceeding  which  naturally 
causes  the  barometer  of  our  respective  self-esteems  to  rise  several 
notches  higher  than  usual,  and  doubtless  gives  equal  satisfaction 
to  the  seals  and  diving-birds.  We  linger  at  the  aquarium  until 
near  sun-down,  and  it  is  fifteen  miles  by  what  is  considered  the 
smoothest  road  to  Newhaven.  Mi-.  C declares  his  inten- 
tion of  donning  his  riding-suit  and,  by  taking  a  shorter,  though 
supposably  roiigher,  road,  reach  Newhaven  as  soon  as  we.  As  we 
halt  at  Lewes  for  tea,  and  ride  leisurely,  likewise  submitting  to  be- 
ing photographed  en  route,  he  actually  arrives  there  ahead  of  us. 

It  is  Sunday  evening.  May  10th,  and  my  ride  through  "  Merrie 
England  "  is  at  an  end.  Among  other  agreeable  things  to  be  ever 
remembered  in  connection  with  it  is  the  fact  that  it  is  the  first  three 
hundred  miles  of  road  I  ever  remember  riding  over  without  scoring 
a  header — a  circumstance  that  impresses  itself  none  the  less  favor- 
ably perhaps  when  viewed  in  connection  with  the  solidity  of  the 
average  English  road.  It  is  not  a  very  serious  misadventure  to  take 
a  flying  header  into  a  bed  of  loose  sand  on  an  American  country 
road  ;  but  the  prospect  of  rooting  up  a  flint-stone  with  one's  nose, 
or  knocking  a  curb-stone  loose  with  one's  bump  of  cautiousness,  is 
an  entirely  different  affair ;  consequently,  the  universal  smoothness 


102  FROM   SAN  FKAWCISCO   TO   TEHERAX. 

of  the  surface  of  the  English  highways  is  appreciated  at  its  full  value 
by  at  least  one  wheelman  whose  experience  of  roads  is  nothing  if  not 
varied.  Comfortable  quarters  are  assigned  me  on  board  the  Chan- 
nel steamer,  and  a  few  minutes  after  bidding  friends  and  England 
farewell,  at  Newhaven,  at  11.30  p.m.,  I  am  gently  rocked  into  un- 
consciousness by  the  motion  of  the  vessel,  and  remain  happily 
and  restfally  oblivious  to  my  surroundings  imtil  awakened  next 
morning  at  Dieppe,  where  I  find  myself,  in  a  few  minutes,  on  a 
foreign  shore.  All  the  way  from  San  Francisco  to  Newhaven 
there  is  a  consciousness  of  being  practically  in  one  country  and 
among  one  people — people  who,  though  acknowledging  separate 
governments,  are  bound  so  firmly  together  by  the  ties  of  common 
instincts  and  -interests,  and  the  mystic  brotherhood  of  a  common 
language  and  a  common  civilization,  that  nothing  of  a  serious  nat- 
ure can  ever  6ome  between  them.  But  now  I  am  verily  among 
strangers,  and  the  first  thing  talked  of  is  to  make  me  pay  duty  on 
the  bicj'cle. 

The  captain  of  the  vessel,  into  whose  hands  Mr.  C as- 
signed me  at  Newhaven,  protests  on  my  behalf,  and  I  likewise  enter 
a  gentle  demurrer ;  but  the  custom-house  officer  declares  that  a  duty 
will  have  to  be  forthcoming,  saying  that  the  amount  will  be  returned 
again  when  I  pass  over  the  German  frontier.  The  captain  finally 
advises  the  payment  of  the  duty  and  the  acceptance  of  a  receipt  for 
the  amount,  and  takes  his  leave.  Not  feeling  quite  satisfied  as  yet 
about  paying  the  duty,  I  take  a  short  stroll  about  Dieppe,  leaving 
my  wheel  at  the  custom-house  ;  and  when  I  shortly  return,  pre- 
pared to  pay  the  assessment,  whatever  it  may  be,  the  officer  who, 
but  thirty  minutes  since,  declared  emphatically  in  favor  of  a  duty, 
now  answers,  with  all  the  politeness  imaginable  :  "  Monsieur  is  at 
liberty  to  take  the  velocipede  and  go  whithersoever  he  will."  It  is 
a  fairly  prompt  initiation  into  the  impulsiveness  of  the  French  char- 
acter. They  don't  accept  bicycles  as  baggage,  though,  on  the  Chan- 
nel steamers,  and  six  shillings  freight,  over  and  above  passage- 
money,  has  to  be  yielded  up. 

Although  upon  a  foreign  shore,  I  am  not  yet,  it  seems,  to  bo 
left  entirely  alone  to  the  tender  mercies  of  my  own  lamentable  ina- 
bility to  speak  French.  Fortunately  there  lives  at  Dieppe  a  gen- 
tleman named  Mr.  Parkinson,  who,  besides  being  an  Englishman 
to  the  backbone,  is  quite  an  enthusiastic  wheelman,  and,  among 
other  things,  considers  it  his  solemn  duty  to  take  charge  of  visitin"- 


104  FKOM   SAN  FEANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN. 

'cyclers  from  England  and  America  and  see  them  safely  launched 
along  the  magnificent  roadways  of  Normandy,  headed  fairly  toward 
their  destination.  Faed  has  thoughtfully  notified  Mr.  Parkinson  of 
my  approach,  and  he  is  watching  for  my  coming  as  tenderly  as 
though  I  were  a  returning  prodigal  and  he  charged  with  my  wel- 
coming home.  Close  under  the  frowning  battlements  of  Dieppe 
Castle — a  once  wellnigh  impregnable  fortress  that  was  some  time 
in  possession  of  the  English — romantically  nestles  Mr.  Parkinson's 
studio,  and  that  genial  gentleman  promptly  proposes  accompanying 
me  some  distance  into  the  country.  On  our  way  through  Dieppe  I 
notice  blue-bloused  peasants  guiding  small  flocks  of  goats  through  the 
streets,  calling  them  along  with  a  peculiar,  tuneful  instrument  that 
sounds  somewhat  similar  to  a  bagpipe.  I  learn  that  they  are  Nor- 
mandy peasants,  who  keep  their  flocks  around  town  aU  summer,  goat's 
milk  being  considered  beneficial  for  infants  and  invalids.  They 
lead  the  goats  from  house  to  house,  and  miUj  whatever  quantity 
their  customers  want  at  their  own  door — a  custom  that  we  can 
readily  understand  will  never  become  widely  popular  among  Anglo- 
Saxon  milkmen,  since  it  leaves  no  possible  chance  for  pump-handle 
combinations  and  corresponding  profits.  The  morning  is  glorious 
with  sunshine  and  the  carols  of  feathered  songsters  as  together  we 
speed  away  down  the  beautiful  Arques  Valley,  over  roads  that  are 
simply  perfect  for  wheehng  ;  and,  upon  arriving  at  the  picturesque 
ruins  of  the  Chateau  d'Arques,  we  halt  and  take  a  casual  peep  at 
the  crumbling  walls  of  this  once  famous  fortress,  which  the  trailing 
ivy  of  Normandy  now  partially  covers  with  a  dark-green  mantle  of 
charity,  as  though  its  piu-pose  and  its  mission  were  to  hide  its  fall- 
en grandeur  from  the  rude  gaze  of  the  passing  stranger. 

All  along  the  roads  we  meet  happy-looking  peasants  driving  into 
Dieppe  market  with  produce.  They  are  driving  Normandy  horses 
— and  that  means  fine,  large,  spirited  animals — which,  being  un- 
familiar with  bicycles,  almost  invariably  take  exception  to  ours, 
j)rancing  about  after  the  usual  manner  of  high-strung  steeds.  Un- 
hke  his  English  relative,  the  Norman  horse  looks  not  supinely  upon 
the  whirling  wheel,  but  arrays  himself  almost  unanimously  against 
us,  and  usually  in  the  most  uncompromising  manner,  similar  to  the 
phantom-eyed  roadster  of  the  United  States  agriculturist.  The 
similarity  between  the  turnouts  of  these  two  countries  I  am  forced 
to  admit,  however,  terminates  abruptly  with  the  horse  itself,  and 
does  not  by  any  means  extend  to  the  driver ;  for,  while  the  Nor- 


FROM   AMERICA   TO   THE  GERMAN  FRONTIER.  105 

mandy  horse  capers  about  and  threatens  to  upset  the  vehicle  into 
the  ditch,  the  Frenchman's  face  is  wreathed  in  apologetic  smiles; 
and,  while  he  frantically  endeavors  to  keep  the  refractory  horse 
under  control,  he  delivers  himself  of  a  whole  dictionary  of  apologies 
to  the  wheelman  for  the  animal's  fooHsh  conduct,  touches  his  cap 
with  an  air  of  profound  deference  upon  noticing  that  we  have  con- 
siderately slowed  up,  and  invariably  utters  his  Bon  jour,  monsieur, 
as  we  wheel  past,  in  a  voice  that  plainly  indicates  his  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  wheelman's — or  anybody  else's — right  to  half  the  road- 
way. A  few  days  ago  I  called  the  EhgUsh  roads  perfect,  and  Eng- 
land the  paradise  of  'cyclers  ;  and  so  it  is ;  but  the  Normandy  roads 
are  even  superior,  and  the  scenery  of  the  Arques  Valley  is  truly 
lovely.  There  is  not  a  loose  stone,  a  rut,  or  depression  anywhere 
on  these  roads,  and  it  is  little  exaggeration  to  call  them  veritable 
bilhard-tables  for  smoothness  of  surface.  As  one  bowls  smoothly 
along  over  them  he  is  constantly  wondering  how  they  can  possibly 
keep  them  in  such  condition.  Were  these  fine  roads  in  America 
one  would  never  be  out  of  sight  of  whirUng  wheels. 

A  luncheon  of  Normandy  cheese  and  cider  at  Cleres,  and  then 
cnwai-d  to  Rouen  is  the  word.  At  every  cross-roads  is  erected  an 
iron  guide-post,  containing  directions  to  several  of  the  nearest 
towns,  telling  the  distances  in  kUometres  and  yards ;  and  small 
stone  pUlaxs  are  set  up  alongside  the  road,  marking  every  hundred 
3'ards.  Arriving  at  Rouen  at  iova  o'clock,  Mr.  Parkinson  shows  me 
the  famous  old  Rouen  Cathedral,  the  Palace  of  Justice,  and  such 
examples  of  old  medieval  Rouen  as  I  care  to  visit,  and,  after  invit- 
ing me  to  remain  and  take  dinner  with  him  by  the  murmuring 
waters  of  the  historic  Seine,  he  bids  me  bon  voyage,  turns  my  head 
southward,  and  leaves  me  at  last  a  stranger  among  strangers,  to 
"comprendre  i^Vanpais "  unassisted.  Some  wiseacre  has  placed  it 
on  record  that  too  much  of  a  good  thing  is  worse  than  none  at  aU ; 
however  that  may  be,  from  having  concluded  that  the  friendly  iron 
guide-posts  would  be  found  on  evei-y  corner  where  necessai-y, 
pointing  out  the  way  with  infallible  truthfulness,  and  being  doubt- 
less influenced  by  the  superior  levelness  of  the  road  leading  down 
the  valley  of  the  Seine  in  comparison  with  the  one  leading  over  the 
bluffs,  I  wander  towai-d  eventide  into  Elbeuf,  instead  of  Pont  de 
I'Arques,  as  I  had  intended  ;  but  it  matters  little,  and  I  am  con- 
tent to  make  the  best  of  my  suiToundings.  WheeHng  along  the 
crooked,  paved  streets  of  Elbeuf,  I  enter  a  small  hotel,  and,  after 


106  FROM    SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEKAN. 

tlie  customary  exchange  of  civilities,  I  arcli  my  eyebrows  at  an  in- 
telligent-looking madame,  and  inquire,  "  Oomprendre  Anglais  ?  " — 
"  Non,"  replies  the  lady,  looking  puzzled,  while  I  proceed  to  venti- 
late my  pantomimic  powers  to  try  and  make  my  wants  understood. 
After  fifteen  minutes  of  despairing  effort,  mademoiselle,  the  daugh- 
ter, is  despatched  to  the  other  side  of  the  town,  and  presently  re- 
turns with  a  bewhiskered  Frenchman,  who,  in  very  much  broken 
English,  accompanying  his  words  with  wondrous  gesticulations, 
gives  me  to  understand  that  he  is  the  only  person  in  all  Elbeuf 
capable  of  speaking  the  English  language,  and  begs  me  to  unbur- 
den myself  to  him  without  reserve.  He  proves  himself  useful  and 
obliging,  kindly  interesting  himself  in  obtaining  me  comfortable 
accommodation  at  reasonable  rates.  This  Elbeuf  hotel,  though,  is 
anything  but  an  elegant  establishment,  and  le propriUaire,  though 
seemingly  intelligent  enough,  brings  me  out  a  bottle  of  the  inevita- 
ble mn  ordinaire  (common  red  wine)  at  breakfast-time,  instead  of 
the  coffee  for  which  my  opportune  interpreter  said  he  had  given 
the  order  yester-eve.  If  a  Frenchman  only  sits  down  to  a  bite  of 
bread  and  cheese  he  usually  consumes  a  pint  bottle  of  vin  ordinayre 
with  it.  The  loaves  of  bread  here  are  rolls  three  and  four  feet  long, 
and  frequently  one  of  these  is  laid  across — or  rather  along,  for  it  is 
oftentimes  longer  than  the  table  is  wide — the  table  for  you  to 
hack  away  at  during  your  meal,  according  to  your  bread-eating 
capacity  or  inclination. 

Monsieur,  the  accomplished,  comes  down  to  see  his  Anglais 
friend  and  prot'eg'e  next  morning,  a  few  minutes  after  his  Anglais 
friend  and  protege  has  started  off  toward  a  distant  street  called  Hue 
Poussen,  which  le  gar^n  had  unwittingly  directed  him  to  when  he 
inquired  the  way  to  the  bureau  de  poste  ;  the  natural  result,  I  sup- 
j-iose,  of  the  difference  between  Elbeuf  pronunciation  and  mine. 
Discovering  my  mistake  upon  arriving  at  the  Eue  Poussen,  I  am 
more  fortunate  in  my  attack  upon  the  interpreting  abilities  of  a 
passing  citizen,  who  sends  an  Elbeuf  gamin  to  guide  me  to  the 
post-office. 

Post  office  clerks  are  proverbially  intelligent  people  in  any  coun- 
try, consequently  it  doesn't  take  me  long  to  transact  my  business 
at  the  bureau  de  poste ;  but  now — shades  of  Csesar ! — I  have 
thoughtlessly  neglected  to  take  down  either  the  name  of  the  hotel 
or  the  street  in  which  it  is  located,  and  for  the  next  half-hour  go 
wandering  about  as  helplessly  as  the  "babes  in  the  wood."     Once, 


FROM    AMERICA   TO    THE   GERMAN    FRONTIER.  107 

twice  I  fancy  recogniziug  the  location  ;  but  the  ordinary  Elbeuf 
house  is  not  easily  recognized  from  its  neighbors,  and  I  am  stand- 
ing looking  around  me  in  the  bewildered  attitude  of  one  uncertain 
of  his  bearings,  when,  lo  !  the  landlady,  who  has  doubtless  been 
wondering  whatever  has  become  of  me,  appears  at  the  door  of  a 
building  which  I  should  certainly  never  have  recognized  as  my 
hotel,  besom  in  hand,  and  her  pleasant,  "Otii,  monsieur,''  sounds 
cheery  and  welcome  enough,  under  the  circumstances,  as  one  may 
readily  suppose. 

Fine  roads  continue,  and  between  Gaillon  and  Vernon  one  can 
see  the  splendid  highway,  smooth,  straight,  and  broad,  stretching 
ahead  for  miles  between  rows  of  stately  poplars,  forming  magnifi- 
cent avenues  that  add  not  a  little  to  the  natural  loveliness  of  the 
country.  Noble  chateaus  appear  here  and  there,  oftentimes  situa- 
ted upon  the  bluffs  of  the  Seine,  and  forming  the  background  to  a 
long  aveniie  of  chestnuts,  maples,  or  poplars,  running  at  right 
angles  to  the  main  road  and  principal  avenue.  The  well-known 
thriftiness  of  the  French  peasantry  is  noticeable  on  every  hand,  and 
particularly  away  off  to  the  left  yonder,  where  their  small,  well- 
cultivated  farms  make  the  sloping  bluffs  resemble  huge  log-cabiii 
quilts  in  the  distance.  Another  glaring  and  unmistakable  evidence 
of  the  Normandy  peasants'  thriftiness  is  the  remarkable  number  of 
patches  they  manage  to  distribute  over  the  surface  of  their  panta- 
loons, every  peasant  hereabouts  averaging  twenty  patches,  more  or 
less,  of  all  shapes  and  sizes.  When  the  British  or  United  States 
Governments  impose  any  additional  taxation  on  the  people,  the 
people  grumblingly  declare  they  won't  put  up  with  it,  and  then  go 
ahead  and  pay  it ;  but  when  the  Chamber  of  Deputies  at  Paris 
turns  on  the  financial  thumb-screw  a  little  tighter,  the  French  peas- 
ant simply  puts  yet  another  patch  on  the  seat  of  his  pantaloons, 
and  smilingly  hands  over  the  difference  between  the  patch  and  the 
new  pair  he  intended  to  purchase  ! 

Huge  cavalry  barracks  mark  the  entrance  to  Vernon,  and,  as  I 
watch  with  interest  the  manoeuvring  of  the  troops  going  through 
their  morning  drill,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  with  such  splendid 
roads  as  France  possesses  she  might  take  many  a  less  practical 
measure  for  home  defence  than  to  mount  a  few  regiments  of  light 
infantry  on  bicycles  ;  infantry  travelling  toward  the  front  at  the 
rate  of  seventy-five  or  a  hundred  miles  a  day  would  be  something 
of  an  improvement,  one  would  naturally  think.     Every  few  miles  my 


108  FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEIIEEAN. 

road  leads  through  the  long,  straggling  street  of  a  village,  every 
building  in  which  is  of  solid  stone,  and  looks  at  least  a  thousand 
years  old ;  while  at  many  cross-roads  among  the  fields,  and  in  all 
manner  of  unexpected  nooks  and  corners  of  the  villages,  crucifixes 
are  erected  to  accommodate  the  devotionally  inclined.  Most  of 
the  streets  of  these  interior  villages  are  paved  with  square  stones 
which  the  wear  and  tear  of  centuries  have  generally  rendered  too 
rough  for  the  bicycle  ;  but  occasionally  one  is  ridable,  and  the  as- 
tonishment of  the  inhabitants  as  I  wheel  leisurely  through,  whist- 
ling the  solemn  strains  of  "Eoll,  Jordan,  roll,"  is  really  quite 
amusing.  Every  village  of  any  size  boasts  a  church  that,  for  fine- 
ness of  architecture  and  apparent  costliness  of  construction,  looks 
out  of  all  proportion  to  the  straggling  street  of  shapeless  structui'es 
that  it  overtops.  Everything  here  seems  built  as  though  intended 
to  last  forever,  it  being  no  unusual  sight  to  see  a  ridiculously  small 
jDiece  of  ground  surrounded  by  a  stone  wall  built  as  though  to  re- 
sist a  bombardment ;  an  enclosure  that  must  have  cost  more  to 
erect  than  fifty  crops  off  the  enclosed  space  could  repay. 

The  important  town  of  Mantes  is  reached  early  in  the  evening, 
and  a  good  inn  found  for  the  night. 

The  market-women  are  arraying  their  varied  wares  all  along 
the  main  street  of  Mantes  as  I  wheel  down  toward  the  banks  of 
the  Seine  this  morning.  I  stop  to  procure  a  draught  of  new  milk, 
and,  while  drinking  it,  point  to  sundry  long  rows  of  light,  flaky- 
looking  cakes  strung  on  strings,  and  motion  that  I  am  desirous  of 
sampling  a  few  at  current  rates  ;  but  the  good  dame  smiles  and 
shakes  her  head  vigorously,  as  well  enough  she  might,  for  I  learn 
afterward  that  the  cakes  are  nothing  less  than  dried  yeast-cakes,  a 
breakfast  off  which  would  probably  have  produced  spontaneous 
combustion.  Getting  on  to  the  wrong  road  out  of  Mantes,  I  find 
myself  at  the  river's  edge  down  among  the  Seine  watermen.  I  am 
shown  the  right  way,  but  from  Mantes  to  Paris  they  are  not  Nor- 
mandy roads  ;  from  Mantes  southward  they  gradually  deteriorate 
until  they  are  little  or  no  better  than  the  "  sand-papered  roads  of 
Boston."  Having  determined  to  taboo  vin  ordinaire  altogether  I 
astonish  the  restaurateur  of  a  village  where  I  take  lunch  by  motion- 
ing away  the  bottle  of  red  wine  and  calling  for  "  de  Veau,"  and  the 
glances  cast  in  my  direction  by  the  other  customers  indicate  plainly 
enough  that  they  consider  the  proceeding  as  something  quite  ex- 
traordinary. 


from:   AMEliICA   TO   THE   GEKMAJST   FRONTIER.  109 

Rolling  througli  Saint  Germain,  Chalon  Pav6y,  and  Nanterre, 
the  magnificent  Arc  cle  Triomphe  looms  up  ia  the  distance  ahead, 
and  at  about  two  o-'clock,  "Wednesday,  May  13th,  I  wheel  into  the 
gay  capital  through  the  Porte  Maillott.  Asphalt  pavement  now  takes 
the  place  of  macadam,  and  but  a  short  distance  inside  the  city  limits 
I  notice  the  'cycle  depot  of  Eenard  Fferres.  Knowing  instinctively 
that  the  fraternal  feelings  engendered  by  the  magic  wheel  reaches  to 
wherever  a  wheelman  lives,  I  hesitate  not  to  dismount  and  present 
my  card.  Yes,  Jean  Glinka,  apparently  an  employ^  there,  compre- 
hends Anglain  ;  they  have  all  heard  of  my  tour,  and  wish  me  hon 
voyage,  and  Jean  and  his  bicycle  is  forthwith  produced  and  dele- 
gated to  accompany  me  into  the  interior  of  the  city  and  find  me  a 
suitable  hotel.  The  streets  of  Paris,  like  the  streets  of  other  large 
cities,  are  paved  with  various  compositions,  and  they  have  just 
been  sprinkled.  French-like,  the  luckless  Jean  is  desirous  of  dis- 
playing his  accomplishments  on  the  wheel  to  a  visitor  so  distingue  ; 
he  circles  around  on  the  slippery  pavement  in  a  manner  most  un- 
necessary, and  in  so  doing  upsets  himself  while  crossing  a  car- 
track,  rips  his  pantaloons,  and  injures  his  wheel.  At  the  Hotel  du 
Louvre  they  won't  accept  bicycles,  having  no  place  to  put  them  ; 
but  a  short  distance  from  there  we  find  a  less  pretentious  estab- 
lishment, where,  after  requiring  me  to  fill  up  a  formidable-looking 
blank,  stating  my  name,  residence,  age,  occupation,  birthplace,  the 
last  place  I  lodged  at,  etc.,  they  finally  assign  me  quarters. 

Prom  Paul  DeviUiers,  to  whom  I  bring  an  introduction,  I  learn 
that  by  waiting  here  till  Friday  evening,  and  repairing  to  the 
rooms  of  the  Societe  Velocipedique  Metropolitaine,  the  president 
of  that  club  can  give  me  the  best  bicycle  route  between  Paris  and 
Vienna  ;  accordingly  I  domicUe  myself  at  the  hotel  for  a  couple  of 
days.  Many  of  the  lions  of  Paris  are  within  easy  distance  of  my 
hotel.  The  reader,  however,  probably  knows  more  about  the 
sights  of  Paris  than  one  can  possibly  find  out  in  two  daj'S  ;  there- 
fore I  refrain  from  any  attempt  at  describing  them  ;  but  my  hotel 
is  worthy  of  remark. 

Among  other  agreeable  and  sensible  arrangements  at  the  Hotel 
du  Loiret,  there  is  no  such  thing  as  opening  one's  room-door 
from  the  outside  save  with  the  key  ;  and  unless  one  thoroughly 
understands  this  handy  peculiarity,  and  has  his  wits  about  him 
continually,  he  is  morally  certain,  sometime  when  he  is  leaving 
his  room,  absent-mindedly  to  shut  the  door  and  leave  the  key  in- 


110  FROM    SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

side.  This  is,  of  course,  among  tlie  first  things  that  happen  to 
me,  and  it  costs  me  half  a  franc  and  three  hours  of  wretched- 
ness before  I  see  the  interior  of  my  room  again.  The  hotel 
keeps  a  rude  skeleton-key  on  hand,  presumably  for  possible 
emergencies  of  this  nature  ;  but  in  manipulating  this  uncouth  in- 
strument le  portier  actually  locks  the  door,  and  as  the  skeleton-key 
is  expected  to  manage  the  catch  only,  and  not  the  lock,  this,  of 
course,  makes  matters  infinitely  worse.  The  keys  of  every  room 
in  the  house  are  next  brought  into  requisition  and  tried  in  succes- 
sion, but  not  a  key  among  them  all  is  a  duplicate  of  mine.  What 
is  to  be  done  ?  Le  portier  looks  as  dejected  as  though  Paris  was 
about  to  be  bombarded,  as  he  goes  down  and  breaks  the  dreadful 
news  to  le  proprietaire.  Up  comes  le  proprietaire — avoirdupois 
three  hundred  pounds — sighing  like  an  exhaust-pipe  at  every  step. 
For  fifteen  unhappy  minutes  the  skeleton-key  is  wriggled  and 
twisted  about  again  in  the  key-hole,  and  the  fat  proprietaire  rubs 
his  bald  head  impatiently,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  Each  returns  to 
his  respective  avocation..  Impatient  to  get  at  my  writing  materials, 
1  look  up  at  the  iron  bars  across  the  fifth-story  windows  above,  and 
motion  that  if  they  will  procure  a  rope  I  will  descend  from  thence 
and  enter  the  window.  They  one  and  all  point  out  into  the  street; 
and,  thinking  they  have  sent  for  something  or  somebody,  I  sit 
down  and  wait  with  Job-like  patience  for  something  to  turn  up. 
Nothing,  however,  turns  up,  and  at  the  expiration  of  an  hour  I 
naturally  begin  to  feel  neglected  and  impatient,  and  again  suggest 
the  rope  ;  when,  at  a  motion  from  le  proprietaire,  le  portier  pilots 
me  around  a  neighboring  corner  to  a  locksmith's  establishment, 
where,  voluntarily  acting  the  part  of  interpreter,  he  engages  on  my 
behalf,  for  half  a  franc,  a  man  to  come  with  a  bunch  of  at  least  a 
hundred  skeleton-keys  of  all  possible  shapes  to  attack  the  refrac- 
tory key-hole.  After  trying  nearly  all  the  keys,  and  disburdening 
himself  of  whole  volumes  of  impulsive  French  ejaculations,  this 
man  likewise  gives  it  up  in  despair  ;  but,  now  everything  else  has 
been  tried  and  failed,  the  countenance  of  le  portier  suddenly  lights 
up,  and  he  slips  quietly  around  to  an  adjoining  room,  and  enters 
mine  inside  of  two  minutes  by  simply  lifting  a  small  hook  out  of  a 
staple  with  his  knife-blade.  There  appears  to  be  a  slight  coolness, 
as  it  were,  between  le  proprietaire  and  me  after  this  incident,  prob- 
ably owing  to  the  intellectual  standard  of  each  becoming  somewhut 
lowered  in  the  other's  estimation  in  consequence  of  it.     Le  pro- 


The  Champs  Elysee  at  10  P.M. 


FROM   AMERICA  TO  THE   GERMAN  ERONTIEK.  113 

prietaire,  doubtless,  thinks  a  man  capable  of  leaving  the  key  inside 
of  the  door  must  be  the  worst  type  of  an  ignoramus  ;  and  certainly 
my  opinion  of  him  for  leaving  such  a  diabolical  ai-rangement  un- 
changed in  the  latter  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  not  far  re- 
moved from  the  same. 

Visiting  the  headquarters  of  the  Soci^te  Velocipedique  Me- 
tropolitaine  on  Friday  evening,  I  obtain  from  the  president  the  de- 
-sired  directions  regarding  the  route,  and  am  all  prepared  to  con- 
tinue eastward  in  the  morning.  Wheeling  down  the  famous 
Champs  Elys^es  at  eleven  at  night,  when  the  concert  gardens  are 
in  full  blast  and  everything  in  a  blaze  of  glory,  with  myriads  of 
electric  lights  festooned  and  in  long  brilliant  rows  among  the  trees, 
is  something  to  be  remembered  for  a  lifetime.  Before  breakfast  I 
leave  the  city  by  the  Porte  Daumesiul,  and  wheel  through  the 
envii-onments  toward  Vincennes  and  JoinviUe,  pedalling,  to  the 
sound  of  martial  music,  for  miles  beyond  the  Porte. 

The  roads  for  thirty  miles  east  of  Paris  are  not  Normandy 
roads,  but  the  country  for  most  of  the  distance  is  fairly  level,  and 
for  mile  after  mile,  and  league  beyond  league,  the  road  is  beneath 
avenues  of  plane  and  poplar,  which,  crossing  the  plain  in  every 
direction  Uke  emerald  walls  of  nature's  own  building,  here  embel- 
lish and  beautify  an  otherwise  rather  monotonous  stretch  of  coun- 
try. The  villages  are  little  different  from  the  villages  of  Normandy, 
but  the  churches  have  not  the  architectural  beauty  of  the  Nor- 
mandy churches,  being  for  the  most  part  massive  structures  with- 
out any  pretence  to  artistic  embellishment  in  theu'  construc- 
tion. Monkish-looking  priests  are  a  characteristic  feature  of  these 
villages,  and  when,  on  passing  down  the  narrow,  crooked  streets 
of  Fontenay,  I  wheel  beneath  a  massive  stone  archway,  and  looking 
around,  observe  cowled  priests  and  everything  about  the  place 
seemingly  in  keeping  with  it,  one  can  readily  imagine  himself 
transported  back  to  medieval  times.  One  of  these  little  interior 
French  villages  is  the  most  unpromising  looking  place  imaginable 
for  a  hungry  person  to  ride  into  ;  often  one  may  ride  the  whole 
length  of  the  village  expectantly  looking  around  for  some  visible 
evidence  of  wherewith  to  cheer  the  inner  man,  and  all  that  greets 
the  hungry  vision  is  a  couple  of  four-foot  sticks  of  bread  in  one 
dust-begrimed  window,  and  a  few  mournful-looking  crucifixes  and 
Eoman  Catholic  paraphernalia  in  another.  Neither  are  the  peas- 
ants hereabouts  to  be  compared  with  the  Normandy  peasantry  in 


114  FROM  SAN  FRAKCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

personal  appearance.  True,  tliey  have  as  many  patches  on  theii; 
l^antaloons,  but  they  don't  seem  to  have  acquired  the  art  of  at- 
taching them  in  a  manner  to  produce  the  same  picturesque  effect 
as  does  the  peasant  of  Normandy  ;  the  original  garment  is  almost 
invariably  a  shapeless  corduroy,  of  a  bagginess  and  an  o'er-ample- 
ness  most  unbeautiful  to  behold. 

The  well-known  axiom  about  fair  paths  leading  astray  holds 
good  with  the  high-ways  and  by-ways  of  France,  as  elsewhere,  and 
soon  after  leaving  the  ancient  town  of  Provins,  I  am  tempted  by  a 
splendid  road,  following  the  windings  of  a  murmuring  brook,  that 
appears  to  be  going  in  my  direction,  in  consequence  of  which  I 
soon  find  myself  among  crosscountry  bj'-ways,  and  among  peasant 
proprietors  who  apparently  know  little  of  the  world  beyond  their 
native  villages.  Pour  o'clock  finds  me  wheeling  through  a  hilly 
vineyard  district  toward  Villenauxe,  a  town  several  kilometres  off 
my  proper  route,  from  whence  a  dozen  kilometres  over  a  very  good 
road  brings  me  to  Sezanne,  where  the  Hotel  de  France  affords  ex- 
cellent accommodation.  After  the  table  d'hote  the  clanging  bells  of 
the  old  church  hard  by  announce  services  of  some  kind,  and  hav- 
ing a  natural  penchant  when  in  strange  places  from  wandering 
whithersoever  inclination  leads,  in  anticipation  of  the  ever  possible 
item  of  interest,  I  meander  into  the  church  and  take  a  seat.  There 
appears  to  be  nothing  extraordinary  about  the  service,  the  only 
unfamiliar  feature  to  me  being  a  man  weaiing  a  uniform  similar  to 
the  gendarmerie  of  Paris :  cockade,  sash,  sword,  and  everything 
complete  ;  in  addition  to  which  he  carries  a  large  cane  and  a  long 
brazen-headed  staff  resembling  the  boarding-pike  of  the  last  cen- 
tury. 

It  has  rained  heavily  during  the  night,  but  the  roads  around 
here  are  composed  mainly  of  gravel,  and  are  rather  improved  than 
otherwise  by  the  rain  ;  and  from  Sezanne,  through  Champenoise 
and  on  to  Vitry  le  Francois,  a  distance  of  about  sixty -five  kilo- 
metres, is  one  of  the  most  enjoyable  stretches  of  road  imaginable. 
The  contour  of  the  country  somewhat  resembles  the  swelling 
prairies  of  Western  Iowa,  and  the  roads  are  as  perfect  for  most 
of  the  distance  as  an  asphalt  boulevard.  The  hills  are  gradual  ac- 
clivities, and,  owing  to  the  good  roads,  are  mostly  ridable,  -while 
the  declivities  make  the  finest  coasting  imaginable  ;  the  exhilara- 
tion of  gliding  dovra  them  in  the  morning  air,  fresh  after  the  rain 
can  be  compared  only  to  Canadian  tobogganing.     Ahead  of  you 


116  FROM  SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAX. 

stretches  a  gradual  downward  slope,  perhaps  two  kilometres  long. 
Knowing  full  well  that  from  top  to  bottom  there  exists  not  a 
loose  stone  or  a  dangerous  spot,  you  give  the  ever- ready  steel-horse 
the  rein  ;  faster  and  faster  whirl  the  glistening  wheels  until  objects 
by  the  road -side  becom^  indistinct  phantoms  as  they  glide  instan- 
taneously by,  and  to  strike  a  hole  or  obstruction  is  to  be  trans- 
formed into  a  human  sky-rocket,  and,  later  on,  into  a  new  arrival 
in  another  world.  A  mid  yell  of  warning  at  a  blue-bloused  peas- 
ant in  the  road  ahead,  shrill  screams  of  dismay  from  several  fe- 
males at  a  cluster  of  cottages,  greet  the  ear  as  you  sweep  past 
like  a  whirlwind,  and  the  next  moment  reach  the  bottom  at  a  rate 
of  speed  that  would  make  the  engineer  of  the  Flying  Dutchman 
green  with  envy.  Sometimes,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  when  glid- 
ing noiselessly  along  on  the  ordinary  level,  I  wheel  unobserved 
close  up  behind  an  unsuspecting  peasant  walking  on  ahead,  with- 
out calling  out,  and  when  he  becomes  conscious  of  my  presence  and 
looks  around  and  sees  the  strange  vehicle  in  such  close  proximity  it 
is  well  worth  the  price  of  a  new  hat  to  see  the  lively  manner  in 
which  he  hops  out  of  the  way,  and  the  next  moment  becomes  fairly 
rooted  to  the  ground  with  astonishment ;  for  bicycles  and  bicycle 
riders  are  less  familiar  objects  to  the  French  peasant,  outside  of  the 
neighborhood  of  a  few  large  cities,  than  one  would  naturally  sup- 
pose. 

Vitry  le  Francois  is  a  charming  old  town  in  the  beautiful  valley 
of  the  Marne  ;  in,  the  middle  ages  it  was  a  strongly  fortified  city  ; 
the  moats  and  earth- works  are  still  perfect.  The  only  entrance  to 
the  town,  even  now,  is  over  the  old  draw-bridges,  the  massive  gates, 
iron  wheels,  chains,  etc.,  still  being  intact,  so  that  the  gates  can  yet 
be  drawn  up  and  entrance  denied  to  foes,  as  of  yore  ;  but  the  moats 
are  now  utilized  for  the  boats  of  the  Marne  and  Rhine  Canal,  and 
it  is  presumable  that  the  old  draw-bridges  are  nowadays  always 
left  open.  To-day  is  Sunday — and  Sunday  in  France  is  equivalent 
to  a  holiday — consequently  Vitry  le  Frangois,  being  quite  an  im- 
portant town,  and  one  of  the  business  centres  of  the  prosperous 
and  populous  Marne  Valley,  presents  all  the  appearance  of  circus- 
day  in  an  American  agricultural  community.  Several  booths  are 
erected  in  the  market  square,  the  proprietors  and  attaches  of  two 
peregrinating  theatres,  several  peep-shows,  and  a  dozen  various 
games  of  chance,  are  vying  with  each  other  in  the  noisiness  of  theii- 
demonstrations  to  attract  the  attention  and  small  change  of  the 


FROM   AMERICA  TO   THE   GERMAN   FRONTIER.  117 

crowd  to  their  respective  enterprises.  Like  every  other  highway 
in  this  part  of  Prance  the  Marne  and  Ehine  Canal  is  fringed  with 
an  avenue  of  poplars,  that  from  neighboring  elevations  can  be  seen 
winding  along  the  beautiful  valley  for  miles,  presenting  a  most 
pleasing  effect. 

East  of  Vitry  le  Fran9ois  the  roads  deteriorate,  and  from  thence 
to  Bar-le-Duc  they  are  inferior  to  any  hitherto  encountered  in  France ; 
nevertheless,  from  the  American  standpoint  they  are  very  good 
roads,  and  when,  at  five  o'clock,  I  wheel  into  Bar-le-Duc  and  come 
to  sum  up  the  aggregate  of  the  day's  journey  I  find  that,  without 
any  undue  exertion,  I  have  covered  very  nearly  one  hundred  and 
sixty  kilometres,  or  about  one  hundred  English  miles,  since  8.30  a.m., 
notwithstanding  a  good  hour's  halt  at  Vitry  le  Franjois  for  dinner. 
Bar-le-Duc  appears  to  be  quite  an  important  business  centre,  pleas- 
antly situated  in  the  valley  of  the  Ornain  Eiver,  a  tributary  of  the 
Marne  ;  and  the  stream,  in  its  narrow,  fertile  valley,  winds  around 
among  hills  from  whose  sloping  sides,  every  autumn,  fairly  ooze 
the  celebrated  red  wines  of  the  Meuse  and  Moselle  regions. 

The  valley  has  been  favored  with  a  tremendous  downpour  of  rain 
and  hail  during  the  night,  and  the  partial  formation  of  the  road  lead- 
ing along  the  level  valley  eastward  being  a  light-colored,  slippery 
clay,  I  find  it  anything  but  agreeable  wheeling  this  morning  ;  more- 
over, the  Ornain  Valley  road  is  not  so  perfectly  kept  as  it  might  be. 
As  in  every  considerable  town  in  France,  so  also  in  Bar-Ie-Duc,  the 
mihtary  element  comes  conspicuously  to  the  fore.  -  Eleven  kilometres 
of  slipping  and  sliding  through  the  greasy  clay  brings  me  to  the  little 
village  of  TronviUe,  where  I  halt  to  investigate  the  prospect  of  ob- 
taining something  to  eat.  As  usual,  the  prospect,  from  the  street, 
is  most  unpromising,  the  only  outward  evidence  being  a  few  glass 
jars  of  odds  and  ends  of  candy  in  one  small  window.  Entering  this 
establishment,  the  only  thing  the  woman  can  produce  besides  candy 
and  raisins  is  a  box  of  brown,  wafer-like  biscuits,  the  unsubstantial 
appearance  of  which  is,  to  say  the  least,  most  unsatisfactory  to  a  per- 
son who  has  pedalled  his  breakfastless  way  through  eleven  kilome- 
tres of  slippery  clay.  Uncertain  of  their  composition,  and  remem- 
bering my  unhappy  mistake  at  Mantes  in  desiring  to  breakfast  ofi' 
yeast-cakes,  I  take  the  precaution  of  sampling  one,  and  in  the  ab- 
sence of  anything  more  substantial  conclude  to  purchase  a  few,  and 
so  motion  to  the  woman  to  hand  me  the  box  in  order  that  I  can 
show  her  how  many  I  want.     But  the  o'er-careful  Frenchwoman, 


118  FROM  SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

mistakiug  my  meaning,  and  fearful  that  I  only  want  to  sample  yet 
another  one,  probably  feeling  uncertain  of  whether  I  might  not 
wish  to  taste  a  whole  handful  this  time,  instead  of  handing  it  over 
moves  it  out  of  my  reach  altogether,  meanwhile  looking  quite  angry, 
and  not  a  little  mystified  at  her  mysterious,  pantomimic  customer. 
A  half-franc  is  produced,  and,  after  taking  the  precaution  of  putting 
it  away  in  advance,  the  cautious  female  weighs  me  out  the  current 
quantity  of  her  ware ;  and  I  notice  that,  after  giving  lumping  weight, 
she  throws  in  a  few  extra,  presumably  to  counterbalance  what,  upon 
sober  second  thought,  she  perceives  to  have  been  an  unjust  sus- 
picion. 

While  I  am  extracting  what  satisfaction  my  feathery  jJurchase 
contains,  it  begins  to  rain  and  hail  furiously,  and  so  continues  with 
little  interruption  all  the  forenoon,  compelling  me,  much  against 
my  inclination,  to  search  out  in  Tronville,  if  possible,  some  accom- 
modation till  to-morrow  morning.  The  village  is  a  shapeless  cluster 
of  stone  houses  and  stables,  the  most  prominent  feature  of  the 
streets  being  huge  heaps  of  manure  and  grape-vine  prunings ;  but 
I  manage  to  obtain  the  necessary  shelter,  and  such  other  accom- 
modations as  might  be  expected  in  an  out-of-the-way  village,  un- 
frequented by  visitors  from  one  year's  end  to  another.  The  follow- 
ing morning  is  still  rainy,  and  the  clayey  roads  of  the  Ornaiu  Valley 
are  anything  but  inviting  wheeling ;  but  a  longer  stay  in  Tronville 
is  not  to  be  thought  of,  for,  among  other  pleasantries  of  the  place 
here,  the  chief  table  delicacy  appears  to  be  boiled  escargots,  a  large, 
ungainly  snail  procured  from  the  neighboring  hiUs.  Whilst  fond 
of  table  delicacies,  I  emphatically  draw  the  line  at  escargots. 

Pulling  out  toward  Toul  I  find  the  roads,  as  expected,  barely 
ridable  ;  but  the  vineyard-environed  little  valley,  lovely  in  its  tears 
wrings  from  one  praise  in  spite  of  muddy  roads  and  lowering 
weather.  Un  route  down  the  valley  I  meet  a  battery  of  artillery 
travelling  from  Toul  to  Bar-le  Due  or  some  other  point  to  the  west- 
ward ;  and  if  there  is  any  honor  in  throwing  a  battery  of  French 
artillery  into  confusion,  and  weUnigh  routing  them,  then  the  bicy- 
cle and  I  are  fairly  entitled  to  it 

As  I  ride  carelessly  toward  them,  the  leading  horses  suddenlv 
wheel  around  and  begin  plunging  about  the  road.  The  officers' 
horses,  and,  in  fact,  the  horses  of  the  whole  company,  catch  the  in- 
fection, and  there  is  a  plunging  and  a  general  confusion  all  alono- 
the  line,  seeing  which  I,  of  course,  dismount  and  retire but  not 


FROM   AMEKICA  TO   THE   OEKMAN  FRONTIEK.  119 

discomfited — from  the  field  until  tbey  have  passed.  These  French 
horses  are  certainly  not  more  than  half-trained.  I  passed  a  battery 
of  English  artillery  on  the  road  leading  out  of  Coventry,  and  had  I 
v^heeled  along  under  the  horses'  noses  there  would  have  been  no 
confusion  whatever. 

On  the  divide  between  the  Oruain  and  Moselle  Valleys  the 
roads  are  hiUier,  but  somewhat  less  muddy.  The  weather  con- 
tinues showery  and  unsettled,  and  a  short  distance  beyond  Void  I 
find  myself  once  again  wandering  off  along  the  wrong  road.  The 
peasantry  hereabout  seem  to  have  retained  a  lively  recollection  of 
the  Prussians,  my  helmet  appearing  to  have  the  effect  of  jogging 
their  memory,  and  frequently,  when  stopping  to  inquire  about  the 
roads,  the  first  word  in  response  will  be  the  pointed  query,  "Prus- 
sian ?  "  By  following  the  directions  given  by  three  different  peas- 
ants, I  wander  along  the  muddy  by-roads  among  the  vineyards  for 
two  wet,  unhappy  hours  ere  I  finally  strike  the  main  road  to  Toul 
again.  After  floundering  along  the  wellnigh  unimproved  by-ways 
for  two  hours  one  thoroughly  appreciates  how  much  he  is  indebted 
to  themilitary  necessities  of  the  French  Government  for  the  splen- 
did highways  of  France,  especially  among  these  hills  and  valleys, 
where  natural  roadways  would  be  anything  but  good.  Following 
down  the  Moselle  Valley,  I  arrive  at  the  important  city  of  Nancy 
in  the  eventide,  and  am  fortunate,  I  suppose,  in  discovering  a  hotel 
where  a  certain,  or,  more  properly  speaking,  an  uncertain,  quantity 
and  quality  of  English  are  spoken.  Nancy  is  reputed  to  be  one  of 
the  loveliest  towns  in  Prance.  But  I  merely  remained  in  it  over 
night,  and  long  enough  next  morning  to  exchange  for  some  Ger- 
man money,  as  I  cross  over  the  frontier  to-day. 

Luneville  is  a  town  I  pass  through,  some  distance  nearer  the 
border,  and  the  military  display  here  made  is  perfectly  overshadow- 
ing. Even  the  scarecrows  in  the  fields  are  military  figures,  with 
wooden  swords  threateningly  waving  about  in  their  hands  with 
every  motion  of  the  wind,  and  the  most  frequent  sound  heard  along 
the  route  is  the  sharp  bang  !  bang  !  of  muskets,  where  companies 
of  soldiers  ai'e  target-practising  in  the  woods.  There  seems  to  be 
a  bellicose  element  in  the  very  atmosphere  ;  for  every  dog  in  every 
village  I  ride  through  verily  takes  after  me,  and  I  run  clean  over 
one  bumptious  cur,  which,  miscalculating  the  speed  at  which  I  am 
coming,  fails  to  get  himself  out  of  the  way  in  time.  It  is  the  nar- 
rowest escape  from  a  header  I  have  had  since  starting  from  Liver- 


120  FROM   SAN  FEANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAW. 

pool ;  although  both  man  and  dog  were  more  scared  than  hurt. 
Sixty-five  kilometres  from  Nancy,  and  I  take  lunch  at  the  frontier 
town  of  Blamont.  The  road  becomes  more  hDIy,  and  a  short  dis- 
tance out  of  Blamont,  behold,  it  is  as  though  a  chalk-line  were 
made  across  the  roadway,  on  the  west  side  of  which  it  had  been 
swept  with  scrupulous  care,  and  on  the  east  side  not  swept  at  all ; 
and  when,  upon  passing  the  next  roadman,  I  notice  that  he  bears 
not  upon  his  cap  the  brass  stencil-plate  bearing  the  inscription, 
"  Cantonnier,"  I  know  that  I  have  passed  over  the  frontier  into  the 
territory  of  Kaiser  Wilhelm. 

My  journey  through  fair  France  has  been  most  interesting,  and 
perhaj)S  instructive,  though  I  am  afraid  that  the  lessons  I  have 
taken  in  French  politeness  are  altogether  too  superficial  to  be  last- 
ing. The  "  Bon  jour,  monsieur,"  and  "  Bon  voyage,"  of  France,  may 
not  mean  any  more  than  the  "If  I  don't  see  you  again,  why,  heUo  !  " 
of  America,  but  it  certainly  sounds  more  musical  and  pleasant. 
It  is  at  the  table  d'hdte,  however,  that  I  have  felt  myself  to  have 
invariably  shone  superior  to  the  natives  ;  for,  lo !  the  Frenchman 
eats  soup  from  the  end  of  his  spoon.  True,  it  is  more  convenient 
to  eat  soup  from  the  prow  of  a  spoon  than  from  the  larboard ; 
nevertheless,  it  is  when  eating  soup  that  I  instinctively  feel  my 
superiority.  The  French  peasants,  almost  without  exception,  con- 
clude that  the  bright-nickelled  surface  of  the  bicycle  is  silver,  and 
presumably  consider  its  rider  nothing  less  than  a  mUlionnaire  in 
consequence  ;  but  it  is  when  I  show  them  the  length  of  time  the 
rear  wheel  or  a  pedal  wiU  «pin  round  that  they  manifest  their 
greatest  surprise.  The  crowning  glory  of  French  landscape  is  the 
magnificent  avenues  of  poplars  that  traverse  the  country  in  every 
direction,  winding  with  the  roads,  the  railways,  and  canals  along 
the  valleys,  and  marshalled  like  sentinels  along  the  brows  of  the 
distant  hiUs ;  without  them  French  scenery  woiild  lose  half  its 
charm. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

GERMANY,  AUSTEIA,  AND  HUNGARY. 

NoTWiTHSTANDiNO  Alsace  was  Frendi  territory  only  fourteen 
years  ago  (1871)  tliere  is  a  noticeable  difference  in  the  inhabitants, 
to  me  the  most  acceptable  being -their  great  Hnguistio  superiority 
over  the  people  on  the  French  side  of  the  border.  I  linger  in  Saar- 
burg  only  about  thirty  minutes,  yet  am  addressed  twice  by  natives 
in  my  own  tongue  ;  and  at  Pfalzburg,  a  smaller- town,  where  I  remain 
over  night,  I  find  the  same  characteristic.  Ere  I  penetrate  thirty 
kilometres  into  German  territory,  however,  I  have  to  record  what 
was  never  encountered  in  France  ;  an  insolent  teamster,  who,  hav- 
ing his  horses  strung  across  a  narrow  road-way  in  the  suburbs  of 
Saarburg,  refuses  to  turn  his  leaders'  heads  to  enable  me  to  ride 
past,  thus  compelling  me  to  dismount.  Soldiers  drilling,  soldiers 
at  target  practice,  and  soldiers  in  companies  marching  about  in 
every  direction,  greet  my  eyes  upon  approaching  Pfalzburg  ;  and 
although  there  appears  to  be  less  beating  of  drums  and  blare  of 
trumpets  than  in  French  garrison  towns,  one  seldom  turns  a  street 
corner  without  hearing  the  measured  tramp  of  a  military  company 
receding  or  approaching.  These  German  troops  appear  to  march 
briskly  and  in  a  business-like  manner  in  comparison  with  the 
French,  who  always  seem  to  carry  themselves  with  a  tired  and  de- 
jected deportment ;  but  the  over-ample  and  rather  slouchy-looking 
pantaloons  of  the  French  are  probably  answerable,  in  part,  for  this 
impression.  One  cannot  watch  these  sturdy-looking  German  sol- 
diers without  a  conviction  that  for  the  stem  purposes  of  war  they 
are  inferior  only  to  the  soldiers  of  our  own  country. 

At  the  little  gasthaus  at  Pfalzburg  the  people  appear  to  under- 
stand and  anticipate  an  Englishman's  gastronomic  peculiarities; 
and  for  the  first  time  since  leaving  England  I  am  confronted  at  the 
supper-table  with  excellent  steak  and  tea. 

It  is  raining  next  morning  as  I  wheel  over  the  rolling  hills 
toward  Saverne,  a  city  nestling  pleasantly  in  a  little  valley  beyond 


122  FROM   SAN  FKAKCISCO  TO   TEUEEAN. 

those  dark  wooded  heights  ahead  that  form  the  eastern  boundary 
of  the  valley  of  the  Rhine.  The  road  is  good  but  hilly,  and  for 
several  kilometres,  before  reaching  Saveme,  winds  its  way  among 
the  pine  forests  tortuously  and  steeply  down  from  the  elevated  di- 
vide. The  valley,  dotted  here  and  there  with  pleasant  villages,  is 
spread  out  like  a  marvellously  beautiful  picture,  the  ruins  of  sev- 
eral old  castles  on  neighboring  hill-tops  adding  a  charm,  as  well  as 
a  dash  of  romance. 

The  rain  pours  down  iu  torrents  as  I  wheel  into  Saverne.  I 
pause  long  enough  to  patronize  a  barber  shop  ;  also  to  procure 
an  additional  small  wrench.  Taking  my  nickelled  monkey-wrench 
into  a  likely-looking  hardware  store,  I  ask  the  proprietor  if  he 
has  anything  similar.  He  examines  it  with  lively  interest,  for,  in 
comparison  with  the  clumsy  tools  comprising  his  stock-in-trade, 
the  wrench  is  as  a  watch-spring  to  an  old  horse-shoe.  I  purchase  a 
rude  tool  that  might  have  been  fashioned  on  the  anvil  of  a  village 
blacksmith.  Prom  Saverne  my  road  leads  over  another  divide 
and  down  into  the  glorious  valley  of  the  Ehine,  for  a  short  distance 
through  a  narrow  defile  that  reminds  me  somewhat  of  a  canon  in 
the  Sierra  Nevada  foot-hills  ;  but  a  fine,  broad  road,  spread  with  a 
coating  of  surface-mud  only  by  this  morning's  rain,  prevents  the 
comparison  from  assuming  definite  shape  for  a  cycler.  Extensive 
and  beautifully  terraced  vineyards  mark  the  eastern  exit 

The  road-beds  of  this  country  are  hard  enough  for  anything ; 
but  a  certain  proportion  of  clay  in  their  composition  makes  a  slip- 
pery coating  in  rainy  weather.  I  enter  the  village  of  Marlenheim 
and  observe  the  first  stork's  nest,  built  on  top  of  a  chimney,  that  I 
have  yet  seen  in  Europe,  though  I  saw  plenty  of  them  afterward. 
The  parent  stork  is  perched  solemnly  over  her  youthful  brood 
which  one  would  naturally  think  would  get  smoke-dried.  A  short 
distance  from  Marlenheim  I  descry  in  the  hazy  distance  the  famous 
spire  of  Strasburg  cathedral  looming  conspicuously  above  every- 
thing else  in  all  the  broad  valley ;  and  at  1.30  p.m.  I  wheel  through 
the  massive  arched  gateway  forming  part  of  the  city's  fortifications, 
and  down  the  broad  but  roughly  paved  streets,  the  most  mud-be- 
spattered object  in  all  Strasburg.  The  fortifications  surrounding 
the  city  are  evidently  intended  strictly  for  business,  and  not  merely 
for  outward  display.  The  railway  station  is  one  of  the  finest  in 
Europe,  and  among  other  conspicuous  improvements  one  notices 
steam  tram-cars.     While '  trundling  through  the  city  I  am  impera- 


GERMANY,    AUSTRIA,    AND   HUNGARY.  123 

tively  ordered  oif  the  sidewalk  by  the  policemnn  ;  and  when  stop- 
ping to  inquire  of  a  respectable-looking  Strasburger  for  the  Ap- 
penweir  road,  up  steps  an  individual  with  one  eye  and  a  cast 
off  mihtary  cap  three  sizes  too  small.  After  querying,  "  Appen- 
loeir?  Englander?"  he  wheels  "about  face  "with  military  pre- 
cision—doubtless thus  impelled  by  the  magic  influence  of  his 
headgear — and  beckons  me  to  follow.  Not  knowing  what  better 
course  to  pursue  I  obey,  and  after  threading  the  mazes  of  a  dozen 
streets,  composed  of  buUdings  ranging  iu  architectiu-e  from  the 
much  gabled  and  not  unpicturesque  structures  of  mediteval  times 
to  the  modern  brown-stone  front,  he  j)ilots  me  outside  the  fortifi- 
cations again,  points  up  the  Appenweir  road,  and  after  the  never 
neglected  formality  of  touching  his  cap  and  extending  his  palm, 
returns  city-ward. 

Crossing  the  Ehine  over  a  pontoon  bridge,  I  ride  along  level 
and,  happily,  rather  less  muddy  roads,  through  pleasant  suburban 
villages,  near  one  of  which  I  meet  a  company  of  soldiers  in  undress 
uniform,  strung  out  carelessly  along  the  road,  as  though  returning 
from  a  tramp  into  the  country.  As  I  approach  them,  pedalling 
laboriously  against  a  stiff  head  wind,  both  myself  and  the  bicycle 
fairly  yellow  with  clay,  both  ofiBcers  and  soldiers  begin  to  laugh  in 
a  good-natured,  bantering  sort  of  manner,  and  a  round  dozen  of 
them  sing  out  in  chorus  "Ah!  ah!  der  Englander!"  and  as  I 
reply,  "Yah  !  yah ! "  in  response,  and  smile  as  I  wheel  past  them, 
the. laughing  and  banter  go  all  along  the  line.  The  sight  of  an 
"Englander"  on  one  of  his  rambling  expeditions  of  adventure 
furnishes  much  amusement  to  the  average  German,  who,  while  he 
cannot  help  admiring  the  spirit  of  enterprise  that  impels  him,  fails 
to  comprehend  where  the  enjoyment  can  possibly  come  in.  The 
average  German  would  much  rather  loll  around,  sipping  wine  or 
beer,  and  smoking  cigarettes,  than  impel  a  bicycle  across  a  con- 
tinent. 

A  few  miles  eastv^ard  of  the  Ehine  another  grim  fortress  frowns 
upon  peaceful  village  and  broad,  green  meads,  and  off  yonder  to 
the  right  is  yet  another  ;  sure  enough,  this  Franco-German  frontier 
is  one  vast  military  camp,  with  forts,  and  soldiers,  and  munitions 
of  war  everywhere  !  When  I  crossed  the  Ehine  I  left  Lower  Al- 
sace, and  am  now  penetrating  the  middle  Ehine  region,  where  vil- 
lages are  picturesque  clusters  of  gabled  cottages — a  contrast  to  the 
shapeless  and  ancient-looking  stone  structures  of  the  French  vil- 


124  FROM   SAW  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHEEAN, 

lages.  The  difference  also  exteada  to  the  inhabitants ;  the  peasant 
women  of  France,  in  either  real  or  affected  modesty,  would  usually 
pretend  not  to  notice  anything  extraordinary  as  I  wheeled  past, 
but  upon  looking  back  they  would  almost  invariably  be  seen  stand- 
ing and  gazing  after  my  receding  figure  with  unmistakable  interest ; 
but  the  women  of  these  Ehine  villages  burst  out  into  merry  peals 
of  laughter. 

Eolling  over  fair  roads  into  the  village  of  Oberkirch,  I  conclude 
to  remain  for  the  night,  and  the  first  thing  undertaken  is  to  dis- 
burden the  bicycle  of  its  covering  of  clay.  The  awkward-looking 
hostler  comes  around  several  times  and  eyes  the  proceedings  with 
glances  of  genuine  disapproval,  doubtless  thinking  I  am  cleaning 
it  myself  instead  of  letting  him  swab  it  with  a  besom  with  the  sin- 
gle purpose  in  view  of  dodging  the  inevitable  tip.  The  proprietor 
can  speak  a  few  words  of  English.  He  puts  his  bald  head  out  of 
the  window  above,  and  asks  :  "  Pe  you  Herr  Shtevens  ?  " 

"Yah,  yah,"  I  reply. 

"Do  you  go  mit  der  veld  around?  " 

"  Yah ;  I  goes  around  mit  the  world." 

"I  shoust  read  about  you  mit  der  noospaper." 

"  Ah,  indeed  !  what  newspaper  ?  " 

"Die  Frankfurter  Zeitung.     You  go  around  mit  der  veld." 

The  landlord  looks  delighted  to  have  for  a  guest  the  man  who 
goes  "  mit  der  veld  around,"  and  spreads  the  news.  During  the 
evening  several  people  of  importance  and  position  drop  in  to  take 
a  curious  peep  at  me  and  my  wheel. 

A  dampness  about  the  knees,  superinduced  by  wheeling  in  rub- 
ber leggings,  causes  me  to  seek  the  privilege  of  the  kitchen  fire 
upon  arrival.  After  listening  to  the  incessant  chatter  of  the  cook 
for  a  few  moments,  I  suddenly  dispense  with  aU  pantomime,  and 
ask  in  purest  English  the  privilege  of  drying  my  clothing  in  peace 
and  tranquillity  by  the  kitchen  fire.  The  poor  woman  hurries  out, 
and  soon  returns  with  her  highly  accomplished  master,  who,  com- 
prehending the  situation,  forthwith  tenders  me  the  loan  of  his  Sun- 
day pantaloons  for  the  evening  ;  which  offer  I  gladly  accept,  not- 
withstanding the  wide  disproportion  in  their  size  and  mine,  the 
landlord  being,  horizontally,  a  very  large  person. 

Oberkirch  is  a  pretty  village  at  the  entrance  to  the  narrow  and 
charming  valley  of  the  River  Eench,  up  which  my  route  leads,  into 
the  fir-clad  heights  of  the  Black  Forest.     A  few  miles  farther  up 


126  FEOM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

the  valley  I  wheel  through  a  small  village  that  nestles  amid  sur- 
roundings the  loveliest  I  have  yet  seen.  Dark,  frowning  firs  inter- 
mingled with  the  lighter  green  of  other  vegetation  crown  the  sur- 
rounding spurs  of  the  Knibis  Mountains  ;  vineyards,  small  fields  of 
waving  rye,  and  green  meadow  cover  the  lower  slopes  with  varie- 
gated beauty,  at  the  foot  of  which  huddles  the  cluster  of  pretty 
cottages  amid  scattered  orchards  of  blossoming  fruit-trees.  The 
cheery  lute  of  the  herders  on  the  mountains,  the  carol  of  birds, 
and  the  merry  music  of  dashing  mountain-streams  fill  the  fresh 
morning  air  with  melody.  All  through  this  country  there  are 
apple-trees,  pear-trees,  cherry-trees — everywhere.  In  the  fruit 
season  one  can  scarce  open  his  mouth  out-doors  without  having 
the  goddess  Pomona  pop  in  some  delicious  morsel.  The  poplar 
avenues  of  France  have  disappeared,  but  the  road  is  frequently 
shaded  for  miles  with  fruit-trees.  I  never  before  saw  a  spot  so 
lovely — certainly  not  in  combination  with  a  wellnigh  perfect  road 
for  wheeling.  On  through  Oppenau  and  Petersthal  my  way  leads 
— this  latter  a  place  of  growing  importance  as  a  summer  resort, 
several  commodious  hotels  with  swimming-baths,  mineral  waters, 
etc.,  being  already  prepared  to  receive  the  anticipated  influx  of 
health  and  pleasure-seeking  guests  this  coming  summer — and  then 
up,  up,  up  among  the  dark  pines  leading  over  the  Black  Forest 
Mountains.  Mile  after  mile  of  steep  incline  has  now  been  trundled, 
following  the  Bench  River  to  its  source.  Ere  long  the  road  I  have 
lately  traversed  is  visible  far  below,  winding  and  twisting  iip  the 
mountain-slopes.  Groups  of  swarthy  peasant  women  are  carrying 
on  their  heads  baskets  of  pine  cones  to  the  villages  below.  At  a  dis- 
tance the  sight  of  their  bright  red  dresses  among  the  sombre  green 
of  the  pines  is  suggestive  of  the  fairies  with  which  legend  has  peo- 
pled the  Black  Forest. 

The  summit  is  reached  at  last,  and  two  boundary  posts  apprise 
the  traveller  that  on  this  wooded  ridge  he  passes  from  Baden  into 
Wurtemberg.  The  descent  for  miles  is  agreeably  smooth  and 
gradual ;  the  mountain  air  blows  cool  and  refreshing,  with  an  odor 
of  the  pines  ;  the  scenery  is  Black  Forest  scenery,  and  what  more 
could  be  possibly  desired  than  this  happy  combination  of  circum- 
stances ? 

Reaching  Freudenstadt  about  noon,  the  mountain-climbing,  the 
bracing  air,  and  the  pine  fragrance  cause  me  to  give  the  good  peo- 
ple at  the  gasthaus  an  impressive  lesson  in  the  effect  of  cyclino-  on 


(JEEMANY,    AXJSTEIA,    and   HUNGAEf.  127 

the  human  appetite.  At  every  town  and  village  I  pass  through  in 
WUrtemberg  the  whole  juvenile  population  collects  around  me  in 
an  incredibly  short  time.  The  natural  impulse  of  the  German 
small  boy  appears  to  be  to  start  running  after  me,  shouting  and 
laughing  immoderately,  and  when  passing  through  some  of  the 
larger  villages,  it  is  no  exaggeration  to  say  that  I  have  had  two 
hundred  small  Germans,  noisy  and  demonstrative,  clattering  along 
behind  in  their  heavy  wooden  shoes. 

Wiirtemburg,  by  this  route  at  least,  is  a  decidedly  hilly  coun- 
try, and  the  roads  are  far  inferior  to  those  of  both  England  and 
France.  There  will  be,  perhaps,  three  kilometres  of  trundling  up 
through  wooded  heights  leading  out  of  a  small  valley,  then,  after 
several  kilometres  over  undulating,  stony  upland  roads,  a  long  and 
not  always  smooth  descent  into  another  small  valley,  this  programme, 
several  times  repeated,  constituting  the  journey  of  the  day.  The 
small  villages  of  the  peasantry  are  frequently  on  the  uplands,  but 
the  larger  towns  are  invariably  in  the  valleys,  sheltered  by  wooded 
heights,  perched  among  the  crags  of  the  most  inaccessible  of  which 
are  frequently  seen  the  ruins  of  an  old  castle.  Scores  of  little  boys 
of  eight  or  ten  are  breaking  stones  by  the  road-side,  at  which  I 
somewhat  marvel,  since  there  is  a  compulsory  school  law  in  Ger- 
many ;  but  perhaps  to-day  is  a  holiday ;  or  maj'be,  after  school 
hours,  it  is  customary  for  these  unhappy  youngsters  to  repair  to 
the  road-sides  and  blister  their  hands  with  cracking  flints. 

"Hungry  as  a  buzz-saw "  I  roll  into  the  sleepy  old  town  of 
Rothenburg  at  six  o'clock,  and,  repairing  to  the  principal  hotel, 
order  supper.  Several  flunkeys  of  different  degrees  of  usefulness 
come  in  and  bow  obsequiously  from  time  to  time,  as  I  sit  around, 
expecting  supper  to  appeiir  every  minute.  At  seven  o'clock  the 
waiter  comes  in,  bows  profoundly,  and  lays  the  table-cloth  ;  at  7.15 
he  appears  again,  this  time  with  a  plate,  knife,  and  fork,  doing 
more  bowing  and  scraping  as  he  lays  them  on  the  table.  Another 
half-hour  roUs  by,  when,  doubtless  observing  my  growing  impa- 
tience as  he  happens  in  at  intervals  to  close  a  shutter  or  re-regulate 
the  gas,  he  produces  a  small  illustrated  paper,  and,  bowing  pro- 
foundly, lays  it  before  me.  I  feel  very  much  like  making  him 
swallow  it,  but  resigning  myself  to  what  appears  to  be  inevitable 
fate,  I  wait  and  wait,  and  at  precisely  8.15  he  produces  a  plate  of 
soup  ;  at  8.30  the  kalbscotolel  is  brought  on,  and  at  8.45  a  small 
plate  of  mixed  biscuits.     During  the  meal  I  call  for  another  piece 


128  FROM   SAN  FKANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

of  bread,  and  behold  there  is  a  hurrying  to  and  fro,  and  a  resound- 
ing of  feet  scurrying  along  the  stone  corridors  of  the  rambling  old 
buildiug,  and  ten  minutes  later  I  receive  a  small  roU.  At  the  op- 
posite end  of  the  long  table  upon  which  I  am  writing  some  half- 
dozen  ancient  and  honorable  Eothenburgers  are  having  what  they 
doubtless  consider  a  "  howling  time."  Confronting  each  is  a  huge 
tankard  of  foaming  lager,  and  the  one  doubtless  enjoying  himself 
the  most  and  making  the  greatest  success  of  exciting  the  envy  and 
admiration  of  those  around  him  is  a  certain  ponderous  individual 
who  sits  from  hour  to  hour  in  a  half  comatose  condition,  barely 
keeping  a  large  porcelain  pipe  from  going  out,  and  at  fifteen-minute 
intervals  taking  a  telling  pull  at  the  lager.  Were  it  not  for  an  oc- 
casional bUuk  of  the  eyelids  and  the  periodical  visitation  of  the 
tankard  to  his  lips,  it  would  be  difficult  to  teU  whether  he  were 
awake  or  sleeping,  the  act  of  smoking  being  barely  perceptible  to 
the  naked  eye. 

In  the  morning  I  am  quite  naturally  afraid  to  order  anything  to 
eat  here  for  fear  of  having  to  wait  until  mid-day,  or  thereabouts, 
before  getting  it ;  so,  after  being  the  unappreciative  recipient  of 
several  more  bows,  more  deferential  and  profound  if  anything  than 
the  bows  of  yesterday  eve,  I  wheel  twelve  kilometres  to  Tubingen 
for  breakfast.  It  showers  occasionally  during  the  forenoon,  and 
after  about  thirty-five  kilometres  of  hilly  country  it  begins  to  de- 
scend in  torrents,  compelling  me  to  foUow  the  example  of  several 
peasants  in  seeking  the  shelter  of  a  thick  pine  copse.  We  are 
soon  driven  out  of  it,  however,  and  donning  my  gossamer  rubber 
suit,  I  push  on  to  Alberbergen,  where  I  indulge  in  rye  bread  and 
milk,  and  otherwise  while  away  the  hours  until  three  o'clock,  when, 
the  rain  ceasing,  I  pull  out  through  the  mud  for  Blaubeuren. 

Down  the  beautiful  valley  of  one  of  the  Danube's  tributaries  I 
ride  on  Sunday  morning,  pedalling  to  the  music  of  Blaubeuren's 
church-beUs.  After  waiting  untU  ten  o'clock,  partly  to  allow  the 
roads  to  dry  a  little,  I  conclude  to  wait  no  longer,  and  so  puU  out 
toward  the  important  and  quite  beautiful  city  of  Ulm.  The  char- 
acter of  the  country  now  changes^  and  with  it  Hkewise  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  people,  who  verily  seem  to  have  stamped  upon 
their  features  the  pecuUarities  of  the  region  they  inhabit.  My  road 
eastward  of  Blaubeuren  follows  down  a  narrow,  winding  valley,  be- 
side the  rippling  head-waters  of  the  Danube,  and  eighteen  kilo- 
metres of  variable  road  brings  me  to  the  strongly  fortified  city  of 


GERMANY,    AUSTRIA,    AND  HUNGARY.  129 

Ulm,  the  place  I  should  have  reached  yesterday,  except  for  the 
inclemency  of  the  weather,  and  where  I  cross  from  Wurtemberg 
into  Bavaria.  On  the  uninviting  uplands  of  Central  "Wurtemberg 
one  looks  in  vain  among  the  peasant  women  for  a  prepossessing 
countenance  or  a  graceful  figure,  but  along  the  smiling  valleys  of 
Bavaria,  the  women,  though  usually  with  figures  disproportionately 
broad,  nevertheless  carry  themselves  with  a  certain  gracefulness  ; 
and,  while  far  from  the  American  or  English  idea  of  beautiful,  are 
several  degrees  more  so  than  their  relatives  of  the  part  of  Wiirtem- 
berg  I  have  traversed.  I  stop  but  a  few  minutes  at  Ulm,  to  test  a 
mug  of  its  lager  and  inquire  the  details  of  the  road  to  Augsburg, 
yet  dui'ing  that  short  time  I  find  myself  an  object  of  no  little  curi- 
osity to  the  citizens,  for  the  fame  of  my  undertaking  has  pervaded 
Ulm. 

The  roads  of  Bavaria  possess  the  one  solitary  merit  of  hardness, 
otherwise  they  would  be  simply  abominable,  the  Bavarian  idea  of 
road-making  evidently  being  to  spread  unUmited  quantities  of  loose 
stones  over  the  sui'face.  For  miles  a  wheelman  is  compelled  to 
follow  along  narrow,  wheel- worn  tracks,  incessantly  dodging  loose 
stones,  or  otherwise  to  pedal  his  way  cautiously  along  the  edges  of 
the  roadway.  I  am  now  wheeling  through  the  greatest  beer-drink- 
ing, sausage-consuming  country  in  the  world  ;  hop-gardens  are  a 
prominent  feature  of  the  landscape,  and  long  links  of  sausages  are 
dangling  in  nearly  every  window.  The  quantities  of  these  viands 
I  see  consumed  to-day  are  something  astonishing,  though  the  cele- 
bration of  the  Whitsuntide  holidays  is  probably  augmentative  of 
the  amount. 

The  strains  of  instrumental  music  come  floating  over  the  level 
bottom  of  the  Lech  valley  as,  toward  eventide,  I  approach  the 
beautiful  environs  of  Augsburg,  and  ride  past  several  beer-gardens, 
where  merry  crowds  of  Augsburgers  are  congregated,  quaffing 
foaming  lager,  eating  sausages,  and  drinking  inspiration  from  the 
music  of  military  bands.  "  Where  is  the  headquarters  of  the 
Augsburg  Velocipede  Club?"  I  inquire  of  a  promising-looking 
youth  as,  after  covering  one  hundred  and  twenty  kilometres  since 
ten  o'clock,  I  wheel  into  the  city.  The  club's  headquarters  are  at 
a  prominent  cafe  and  beer-garden  in  the  south-eastern  suburbs,  and 
repairing  thither  I  find  an  accommodating  individual  who  can 
speak  English,  and  who  willingly  accepts  the  office  of  interpreter 
between  me  and  the  proprietor  of  the  garden.  Seated  amid 
9 


130  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

hundreds  of  soldiers,  Augsburg  civilians,  and  peasants  from  the 
surrounding  country,  and  with  them  extracting  genuine  enjoyment 
from  a  tankard  of  foaming  Augsburg  lager,  I  am  informed  that 
most  of  the  members  of  the  club  are  celebrating  the  Whitsuntide 
holidays  by  touring  about  the  surrounding  country,  but  that  I  am 
very  welcome  to  Augsburg,  and  I  am  conducted  to  the  Hotel  Moh- 
renkopf  (Moor's  Head  Hotel),  and  invited  to  consider  myseK  the 
guest  of  the  club  as  long  as  I  care  to  remain  in  Augsburg — the 
Bavarians  are  nothing  if  not  practical. 

Mr.  Josef  Kling,  the  president  of  the  club,  accompanies  me  as 
far  out  as  Friedburg  on  Monday  morning ;  it  is  the  last  day  of  the 
holidays,  and  the  Bavarians  are  apparently  bent  on  making  the 
most  of  it.  The  suburban  beer-gardens  are  abeady  filled  with 
people,  and  for  some  distance  out  of  the  city  ■  the  roads  are 
thronged  with  hoUday-making  Augsburgers  repairing  to  various 
pleasure  resorts  in  the  neighboring  country,  and  the  peasantiy 
streaming  cityward  from  the  villages,  their  faces  beaming  in  an- 
ticipation of  unlimited  quantities  of  beer.  About  every  tenth 
person  among  the  outgoing  Augsburgers  is  carrying  an  accor- 
dion ;  some  playing  merrily  as  they  walk  along,  others  preferring 
to  carry  theirs  in  blissful  meditation  on  the  good  time  in  store 
immediately  ahead,  while  a  thoughtful  majority  have  large  um- 
brellas strapped  to  their  backs.  Music  and  song  are  heard  on 
every  hand,  and  as  we  wheel  along  together  in  sUence,  enforced  by 
an  ignorance  of  each  other's  language,  whichever  way  one  looks, 
people  in  holiday  attire  and  holiday  faces  are  moving  hither  and 
thither. 

Some  of  the  peasants  are  fearfully  and  wonderfully  attired : 
the  men  wear  high  top-boots,  polished  from  the  sole  to  the  up- 
permost hair's-breadth  of  leather  ;  black,  broad-brimmed  felt  hats, 
frequently  with  a  peacock's  feather  a  yard  long  stuck  through  the 
band,  the  stem  protruding  forward,  and  the  end  of  the  feather  be- 
hind ;  and  their  coats  and  waistcoats  are  adorned  with  long  rows 
of  large,  ancestral  buttons.  I  am  now  in  the  Swabian  district,  and 
these  buttons  that  form  so  conspicuous  a  part  of  the  holiday  attire 
are  made  of  silver  coins,  and  not  infrequently  have  been  handed 
down  from  generation  to  generation  for  several  centuries,  they  be- 
ing, in  fact,  family  heirlooms.  The  costumes  of  the  Swabish  peas- 
ant women  are  picturesque  in  the  extreme  :  their  finest  dresses 
and  that  wondrous  head-gear  of  brass,  silver,  or  gold — the  Schwa- 


GERMANY,    ATJSTEIA,    AND   IIUNGAET.  131 

bische  Bauernfrauenhauhe  (Swabish  farmer-woman  hat) — being,  like 
the  buttons  of  the  men,  family  heirlooms.  Some  of  these  won- 
derful ancestral  dresses,  I  am  told,  contain  no  less  than  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  yards  of  heavy  material,  gathered  and  closely  pleated 
in  innumerable  perpendicular  folds,  frequently  over  a  foot  thick,  - 
making  the  form  therein  incased  appear  ridiculously  broad  and 
squatty.  The  waistbands  of  the  dresses  are  up  in  the  region  of 
the  shoulder-blades  ;  the  upper  portion  of  the  sleeves  are  likevfise 
padded  out  to  fearful  proportions. 

The  day  is  most  lovely,  the  fields  are  deserted,  and  the  roads 
and  villages  are  alive  with  holiday-making  peasants.  In  every 
village  a  tall  pole  is  erected,  and  decorated  from  top  to  bottom  with 
small  flags  and  evergreen  ■^'reaths.  The  little  stone  churches  and 
the  adjoining  cemeteries  are  filled  with  worshippers  chanting  in 
solemn  chorus  ;  not  so  preoccupied  with  their  devotional  exercises 
and  spiritual  meditations,  however,  as  to  prevent  their  calling  one 
another's  attention  to  me  as  I  wheel  past,  craning  their  necks  to 
obtain  a  better  view,  and,  in  one  instance,  an  o'er-inquisitive  wor- 
shipper even  beckons  for  me  to  stop — this  person  both  chanting 
and  beckoning  vigorously  at  the  same  time. 

Now  my  road  leads  through  forests  of  dark  firs  ;  and  here  I 
overtake  a  procession  of  some  fifty  peasants,  the  men  and  women 
alternately  chanting  in  weird  harmony  as  they  trudge  along  the 
road.  The  men  are  bareheaded,  carrying  their  hats  in  hand. 
Many  of  the  women  are  barefooted,  and  the  pedal  extremities  of 
others  are  incased  in  stockings  of  marvellous  pattern  ;  not  any  are 
wearing  shoes.  All  the  colors  of  the  rainbow  are  represented  in 
their  respective  costumes,  and  each  carries  a  large  umbrella 
strapped  at  his  back ;  they  are  trudging  along  at  quite  a  brisk 
pace,  and  altogether  there  is  something  weird  and  fascinating 
about  the  whole  scene  :  the  chanting  and  the  surroundings.  The 
variegated  costumes  of  the  women  are  the  only  bright  objects  amid 
the  gloominess  of  the  dark  green  pines.  As  I  finally  pass  ahead, 
the  unmistakable  expressions  of  interest  on  the  faces  of  the  men, 
and  the  even  rows  of  ivories  displayed  by  the  women,  betray  a  di- 
verted attention. 

Near  noon  I  arrive  at  the  antiquated  to-^vn  of  Dachau,  and  upon 
repairing  to  the  gasthaus,  an  individual  in  a  last  week's  paper  col- 
lar, and  with  general  appearance  in  keeping,  comes  forward  and 
addresses  me  in  quite  excellent  English,  and  during  the  dinner 


132 


FROM   SAN   FEAlSrCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


hour  answers  several  questions  concerning  the  country  and  the 
natives  so  intelligently  that,  upon  departing,  I  ungrudgingly  offer 
him  the  small  tip  customary  on  such  occasions  in  Germany.     "  No, 


Whitsuntide  in  Bavaria. 


I  thank  you,  very  muchly,"  he  replies,  smiling,  and  shaking  his 
head.  "  I  am  not  an  employe  of  the  hotel,  as  you  doubtless  think  ; 
I  am  a  student  of  modem  languages  at  the  Munich  University, 
visiting  Dachau  for  the  day."    Several  soldiers  playing  billiards  in 


GERMANY,    AUSTRIA,   AND   HUNGARY.  133 

tjie  room  grin  broadly  in  recognition  of  tlie  ludicrousness  of  the 
situation  ;  and  I  must  confess  that  for  the  moment  I  feel  like  ask- 
ing one  of  them  to  draw  his  sword  and  charitably  prod  me  out  of 
the  room.  The  unhappy  memory  of  having,  in  my  ignorance,  ten- 
dered a  smaU  tip  to  a  student  of  the  Munich  University  will  cling 
around  me  forever.  Nevertheless,  I  feel  that  after  all  there  are 
extenuating  circumstances — he  ought  to  change  his  paper  collar 
occasionally. 

An  hour  after  noon  I  am  industriously  dodging  loose  flints  on 
the  level  road  leading  across  the  Isar  KiverVaUey  toward  Munich  ; 
the  Tyrolese  Alps  loom  up,  shadowy  and  indistinct,  in  the  distance 
to  the  southward,  their  snowy  peaks  recalling  memories  of  the 
Rockies  through  which  I  was  wheeling  exactly  a  year  ago.  While 
wending  my  way  along  the  streets  toward  the  central  portion  of 
the  Bavarian  capital  the  familiar  sign,  "American  Cigar  Store," 
looking  like  a  ray  of  Ught  penetrating  through  the  gloom  and 
mystery  of  the  multitudinous  unreadable  signs  that  surround  it, 
greets  my  vision,  and  I  immediately  wend  my  footsteps  thither- 
ward. I  discover  in  the  proprietor,  Mr.  Walsch,  a  native  of  Munich, 
who,  after  residing  in  America  for  several  years,  has  returned  to 
dream  away  declining  years  amid  the  smoke  of  good  cigars  and  the 
quaffing  of  the  delicious  amber  beer  that  the  brewers  of  Munich 
alone  know  how  to  brew.  Then  who  should  happen  in  but  Mr. 
Charles  Buscher,  a  thorough-going  American,  from  Chicago,  who 
is  studying  art  here  at  the  Eoyal  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  and  who 
straightway  volunteers  to  show  me  Munich. 

Nine  o'clock  next  morning  finds  me  under  the  pilotage  of  Mr. 
Buscher,  wandering  through  the  splendid  art  galleries.  We  next 
visit  the  Eoyal  Academy  of  Fine  Arts,  a  magnificent  building,  be- 
ing erected  at  a  cost  of  7,000,000  marks. 

We  repair  at  eleven  o'clock  to  the  royal  residence,  making  a 
note  by  the  way  of  a  trifling  mark  of  King  Ludwig's  well-known 
eccentricity.  Opposite  the  palace  is  an  old  church,  with  two  of  its 
four  clocks  facing  the  King's  apartments.  The  hands  of  these 
clocks  are,  according  to  my  informant,  made  of  gold.  Some  time 
since  the  King  announced  that  the  sight  of  these  golden  hands  hurt 
his  eyesight,  and  ordered  them  painted  black.  It  was  done,  and 
they  are  black  to-day.  Among  the  most  interesting  objects  in  the 
palace  are  the  room  and  bed  in  which  Napoleon  I.  slept  in  1809, 
and  which  has  since  been  occupied  by  no  other  person  ;  the  "  rich 


134  FROM   SAN  FEAWCISCO  TO  TEHEEATST. 

bed,"  a  gorgeous  affair  of  pink  and  scarlet  satin-work,  on  which 
forty  women  wove,  with  gold  thread,  daily,  for  ten  years,  until 
1,600,000  marks  were  expended. 

At  one  of  the  entrances  to  the  royal  residence,  and  secured  with 
iron  bars,  is  a  large  bowlder  weighing  three  hundred  and  sixty- 
three  pounds" ;  in  the  wall  above  it  are  driven  three  spikes,  the 
highest  spike  being  twelve  feet  from  the  ground ;  and  Bavarian 
historians  have  recorded  that  Earl  Christoph^  a  famous  giant, 
tossed  this  bowlder  up  to  the  mark  indicated  by  the  highest  spike, 
with  his  foot. 

After  this  I  am  kindly  warned  by  both  Messrs.  Buscher  and 
Walsch  not  to  think  of  leaving  the  city  without  visiting  the  Konig- 
liche  Eofbrauhaus  (Eoyal  Court  Brewery)  the  most  famous  place 
of  its  kind  ia  all  Europe.  For  centuries  Munich  has  been  famous 
for  the  excellent  quality  of  its  beer,  and  somewhere  about  four  cen- 
turies ago  the  king  founded  this  famous  brewery  for  the  charitable 
purpose  of  enabling  his  poorer  subjects  to  quench  their  thirst  with 
the  best  quality  of  beer,  at  prices  within  their  means,  and  from  gen- 
eration to  generation  it  has  remained  a  favorite  resort  in  Munich 
for  lovers  of  good  beer.  In  spite  of  its  remaining,  as  of  yore,  a 
place  of  rude  benches  beneath  equally  rude,  open  sheds,  with  cob- 
webs festooning  the  rafters  and  a  general  air  of  dilapidation  about 
it ;  in  spite  of  the  innovation  of  dozens  of  modem  beer-gardens 
with  waving  palms,  electric  lights,  military  music,  and  all  modern 
improvements,  the  Konigliche  Hofbrduhaus  is  daily  and  nightly 
thronged  with  thirsty  visitors,  who  for  the  trifling  sum  of  twenty- 
two  pfennigs  (about  five  cents)  obtain  a  quart  tankard  of  the  most 
celebrated  brew  in  all  Bavaria. 

"Munich  is  the  greatest  art-centre  of  the  world,  the  true  hub 
of  the  artistic  universe,"  Mr.  Buscher  enthusiastically  assures  me  as 
we  wander  together  through  the  sleepy  old  streets,  and  he  points 
out  a  bright  bit  of  old  frescoing,  which  is  already  partly  obliterated 
by  the  elements,  and  compares  it  with  the  work  of  recent  years ; 
calls  my  attention  to  a  piece  of  statuary,  and  anon  pilots  me  down 
into  a'restaurant  and  beer-hall  in  some  ancient,  underground  vaults 
and  bids  me  examine  the  architecture  and  the  frescoing.  The  very 
custom-house  of  Munich  is  a  glorious  old  church,  that  would  be 
carefuUy  preserved  as  a  relic  of  no  small  interest  and  importance  in 
cities  less  abundantly  blessed  with  antiquities,  but  which  is  here 
piled  with  the  cases  and  boxes  and  bags  of  commerce. 


GERMANY,   AUSTRIA,    AND   HUNGARY.  135 

One  other  conspicuous  featui-e  of  Munich  life  must  not  be  over- 
looked ere  I  leave  it,  viz.,  the  hackmen.  Unlike  their  Transatlantic 
brethren,  they  appear  supremely  indifferent  about  whether  they  pick 
up  any  fares  or  not.  Whenever  one  comes  to  a  hack-stand  it  is  a 
pretty  sure  thing  to  bet  that  nine  drivers  out  of  every  ten  are  tak- 
ing a  quiet  snooze,  reclining  on  their  elevated  boxes,  entirely  ob- 
livious of  their  surroundings,  and  a  timid  stranger  would  almost 
hesitate  about  disturbing  their  slumbers.  But  the  Munich  cabby 
has  long  since  got  hardened  to  the  disagreeable  process  of  being 
wakened  up.  Nor  does  this  lethargy  pervade  the  ranks  of  hackdom 
only  :  at  least  two-thirds  of  the  teamsters  one  meets  on  the  roads, 
hereabouts,  are  stretched  out  on  their  respective  loads,  contentedly 
sleeping  while  the  horses  or  oxen  crawl  leisurely  along  toward  their 
goal. 

Munich  is  visited  heavily  with  rain  during  the  night,  and  for 
several  kilometres,  next  morning,  the  road  is  a  horrible  waste  of 
loose  flints  and  mud-filled  ruts,  along  which  it  is  all  but  impossible 
to  ride  ;  but  after  leaving  the  level  bottom  of  the  Isar  Eiver  the 
road  improves  sufficiently  to  enable  me  to  take  an  occasional,  ad- 
miring glance  at  the  Bavarian  and  Tyrolese  Alps,  towering  cloud- 
ward  on  the  southern  horizon,  their  shadowy  outlines  scarcely  dis- 
tinguishable in  the  hazy  distance  from  the  fleecy  clouds  their  peaks 
aspire  to  invade.  While  absentmindedly  taking  a  more  lingering 
look  than  is  consistent  with  safety  when  picking  one's  way  along 
the  narrow  edge  of  the  roadway  between  the  stone-strewn  centre 
and  the  ditch,  I  run  into  the  latter,  and  am  rewarded  with  my  first 
Cis-atlantic  header,  but  fortunately  both  myself  and  the  bicycle 
come  up  uninjured.  Unlike  the  Swabish  peasantry,  the  natives  east 
of  Munich  appear  as  prosy  and  unpicturesque  in  dress  as  a  Kansas 
homesteader. 

Ere  long  there  is  noticeable  a  decided  change  in  the  character 
of  the  villages,  they  being  no  longer  clusters  of  gabled  cottages, 
but  usually  consist  of  some  three  or  four  huge,  rambHng  build- 
ings, at  one  of  which  I  call  for  a  drink  and  observe  that  brewing 
and  baking  are  going  on  as  though  they  were  expecting  a  whole 
regiment  to  be  quartered  on  them.  Among  other  things  I  mentally 
note  this  morning  is  that  the  men  actually  seem  to  be  bearing  the 
drudgery  of  the  farm  equally  with  the  women  ;  but  the  favorable 
impression  becomes  greatly  imperilled  upon  meeting  a  woman  har- 
nessed to  a  small  cart,  heavily  laboring  along,  while  her  husband — 


136  FROM   SAN  FEANCI8CO  TO  TEHERAK. 

kind  man — is  walking  along-side,  holding  on  to  a  rope,  upon  which 
he  considerately  pulls  to  assist  her  along  and  lighten  her  task. 
Nearing  Hoag,  and  thence  eastward,  the  road  becomes  greatly  im- 
proved, and  along  the  Inn  River  Valley,  from  Muhldorf  to  Alt  Get- 
ting, where  I  remain  for  the  night,  the  late  rain-storm  has  not 
reached,  and  the  wheeling  is  superior  to  any  I  have  yet  had  in  Ger- 
many. Muhldorf  is  a  curious  and  interesting  old  town.  The  side- 
walks of  Mtihldorf  are  beneath  long  arcades  from  one  end  of  the 
principal  street  to  the  other ;  not  modern  structures  either,  but 
massive  archways  that  are  doubtless  centuries  old,  and  that  sup- 
port the  front  rooms  of  the  buildings  that  tower  a  couple  of  stories 
above  them. 

As  toward  dusk  I  ride  into  the  market  square  of  Alt  Getting,  it 
is  noticeable  that  nearly  all  the  stalls  and  shops  remaining  open 
display  nothing  but  rosaries,  crucifixes,  and  other  paraphernalia  of 
the  prevailing  religion.  Through  Eastern  Bavaria  the  people  seem 
pre-eminently  devotional ;  church- spires  dot  the  landscape  at  every 
point  of  the  compass.  At  my  hotel  in  Alt  Getting,  crucifixes,  holy 
water,  and  burning  tapers  are  situated  on  the  dififerent  stairway 
landings.  I  am  sitting  in  my  room,  penning  these  lines  to  the 
music  of  several  hundred  voices  chanting  in  the  old  stone  church 
near  by,  and  can  look  out  of  the  window  and  see  a  number  of  peas- 
ant women  taking  turns  in  dragging  themselves  on  their  knees 
round  and  round  a  small  religious  edifice  in  the  centre  of  the  mar- 
ket square,  carrying  on  their  shoulders  huge,  heavy  wooden  crosses, 
the  ends  of  which  are  traiUug  on  the  ground. 

All  down  the  Inn  River  Valley,  there  is  many  a  picturesque  bit 
of  intermingled  pine-copse  and  grassy  slopes  ;  but  admiring  scen- 
ery is  anything  but  a  riskless  undertaking  along  here,  as  I  quickly 
discover.  Gn  the  Inn  River  I  find  a  primitive  ferry-boat  operated 
by  &  facsimile  of  the  Ancient  Mariner,  who  takes  me  and  my  wheel 
across  for  the  consideration  of  five  pfennigs — a  trifle  over  one  cent 
— and  when  I  refuse  the  tiny  change  out  of  a  ten-pfennig  piece  the 
old  fellow  touches  his  cap  as  deferentially,  and  favors  me  vrith  a 
look  of  gratitude  as  profound,  as  though  I  were  bestowing  a  pen- 
sion upon  him  for  life.  My  arrival  at  a  broad,  well-travelled  high- 
way at  once  convinces  me  that  I  have  again  been  unwittingly  wan- 
dering among  the  comparatively  untravelled  by-ways  as  the  result 
of  following  the  kindly  meant  advice  of  people  whose  knowledge  of 
bicycling  requirements  is  of  the  slimmest  nature.     The  Inn  River 


GERMANY,  AUSTRIA,   AND   HUNGARY.  137 

has  a  warm,  rich  vale ;  haymaking  is  ah-eady  in  full  progress,  and 
the  delightful  perfume  is  wafted  on  the  fresh  morning  air  from 
meadows  where  scores  of  barefooted  Maud  Mullers  are  raking  hay, 
ay,  and  mowing  it  too,  swinging  scythes  side  by  side  with  the 
men.  Some  of  the  out-door  crucifixes  and  shrines  (small,  substan- 
tial buildings  containing  pictures,  images,  and  all  sorts  of  religi- 
ous emblems)  along  this  valley  are  really  quite  elaborate  affairs. 
AH  through  Eoman  Catholic  Germany  these  emblems  of  rehgion 
are  very  elaborate,  or  the  reverse,  according  to  the  locality,  the 
chosen  spot  in  rich  and  fertile  valleys  generally  being  favored  with 
better  and  more  artistic  affairs,  and  more  of  them,  than  the  com- 
paratively unproductive  uplands.  This  is  evidently  because  the  in- 
habitants of  the  latter  regions  are  either  less  wealthy,  and  conse- 
quently cannot  afford  it,  or  otherwise  realize  that  they  have  really 
much  less  to  be  thankful  for  than  their  comparatively  fortunate 
neighbors  in  the  more  productive  valleys. 

At  the  town  of  Simbach  I  cross  the  Inn  River  again  on  a  substan- 
tial wooden  bridge,  and  on  the  opposite  side  pass  under  an  old  stone 
archway  bearing  the  Austrian  coat-of-arms.  Here  I  am  conducted 
into  the  custom-house  by  an  officer  wearing  the  sombre  uniform  of 
Franz  Josef,  and  required,  for  the  first  time  in  Europe,  to  produce 
my  passport.  After  a  critical  and  unnecessarily  long  examination 
of  this  document  I  am  graciously  permitted  to  depart.  In  an  ad- 
jacent money-changer's  office  I  exchange  what  German  money  I 
have  remaining  for  the  paper  currency  of  Austria,  and  once  more 
pursue  my  way  toward  the  Orient,  finding  the  roads  rather  better 
than  the  average  German  ones,  the  Austrian  s,  hereabouts  at  least, 
having  had  the  goodness  to  omit  the  loose  flints  so  characteristic 
of  Bavaria.  Once  out  of  the  valley  of  the  Inn  River,  however,  I 
find  the  uplands  intervening  between  it  and  the  valley  of  the  Dan- 
ube aggravatingly  hilly. 

While  eating  my  first  luncheon  in  Austria,  at  the  village  of 
Altheim,  the  village  pedagogue  informs  me  in  good  English  that  I 
am  the  first  Briton  he  has  ever  had  the  pleasure  of  conversing  with. 
He  learned  the  language  entirely  from  books,  without  a  tutor,  he 
says,  learning  it  for  pleasure  solely,  never  expecting  to  utilize  the 
accomplishment  in  any  practical  way.  One  hill  after  another 
characterizes  my  route  to-day  ;  the  weather,  which  has  hitherto 
remained  reasonably  mild,  is  turning  hot  and  sultry,  and,  arriving 
at  Hoag  about  five  o'clock,  I  feel  that  I  have  done  sufficient  hill- 


138  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAJST. 

climbing  for  one  day.  I  have  been  wheeling  through  Austrian 
territory  since  10.30  this  morning,  and,  with  observant  eyes  the 
whole  distance,  I  have  yet  to  see  the  first  native,  male  or  female, 
possessing  in  the  least  degree  either  a  graceful  figure  or  a  prepos- 
sessing face.  There  has  been  a  great  horse-fair  at  Hoag  to-day  ; 
the  business  of  the  day  is  concluded,  and  the  principal  occupation 
of  the  men,  apart  from  drinking  beer  and  smoking,  appears  to  be 
frightening  the  women  out  of  their  wits  by  leading  prancing  horses 
as  near  them  as  possible. 

My  road,  on  leaving  Hoag,  is  hilly,  and  the  snowy  heights  of  the 
Nordliche  Kalkalpen  (North  Chalk  Mountains),  a  range  of  the  Aus- 
trian Alps,  loom  up  ahead  at  an  uncertain  distance.  To-day  is  what 
Americans  call  a  "  scorcher,"  and  climbing  hills  among  pine-woods, 
that  shut  out  every  passing  breeze,  is  anything  but  exhilarating  ex- 
ercise with  the  thermometer  hovering  in  the  vicinity  of  one  hun- 
dred degrees.  The  peasants  are  abroad  in  their  fields  as  usual, 
but  a  goodly  proportion  are  reclining  beneath  the  trees.  Reclin- 
ing is,  I  think,  a  favorite  pastime  with  the  Austrian.  The  team- 
ster, who  happens  to  be  wide  awake  and  sees  me  approaching, 
knows  instinctively  that  his  team  is  going  to  scare  at  the  bicycle, 
yet  he  makes  no  precautionary  movements  whatever,  neither  does 
he  arouse  himself  from  his  loUing  position  until  the  horses  or  oxen 
begin  to  swerve  around.  As  a  usual  thing  the  teamster  is  filling 
his  pipe,  which  has  a  large,  ungainly-looking,  porcelain  bowl,  a 
long,  straight  wooden  stem,  and  a  crooked  mouth-piece.  Almost 
every  Austrian  peasant  from  sixteen  years  old  upward  carries  one 
of  these  uncomely  pipes. 

The  men  here  seem  to  be  dull,  uninteresting  mortals,  dressed 
in  tight-fitting,  and  yet,  somehow,  ill-fitting,  pantaloons,  usually 
about  three  sizes  too  short,  a  small  apron  of  blue  ducking — an  un- 
becoming garment  that  can  only  be  described  as  a  cross  between  a 
short  jacket  and  a  waistcoat — and  a  narrow-rimmed,  prosy-looking 
billycock  hat.  The  peasant  women,  are  the  poetry  of  Austria,  as 
of  any  other  European  country,  and  in  their  short  red  dresses  and 
broad-brimmed,  gypsy  hats,  they  look  picturesque  and  interesting 
in  spite  of  homely  faces  and  ungraceful  figures.  Eiding  into  Lam- 
bach  this  morning,  I  am  about  wheeling  past  a  horse  and  drag  that, 
careless  and  Austrian-like,  has  been  left  untied  and  unwatched  in 
the  middle  of  the  street,  when  the  horse  suddenly  scares,  swerves 
around  just  in  front  of  me,  and  dashes,  helter-skelter,  down  the 


GERMANY,   AUSTRIA,   AND   HUNGARY.  139 

street.  The  horse  circles  around  the  market  square  and  finally 
stops  of  his  own  accord  without  doing  any  damage.  Eunaways, 
like  other  misfortunes,  it  seems,  never  come  singly,  and  ere  I  have 
left  Lambach  an  hour  I  am  the  innocent  cause  of  yet  another  one ; 
this  time  it  is  a  large,  powerful  work-dog,  who  becomes  excited 
upon  meeting  me  along  the  road,  and  upsets  things  in  the  most 
lively  manner.  Small  carts  pulled  by  dogs  are  common  vehicles 
here,  and  this  one  is  met  coming  up  an  incline,  the  man  consider- 
ately giving  the  animal  a  lift.  A  life  of  drudgery  breaks  the  spirit 
of  these  work-dogs  and  makes  them  cowardly  and  cringing.  At 
my  approach  this  one  howls,  and  swerves  suddenly  around  with  a 
rush  that  upsets  both  man  and  cart,  topsy-turvy,  into  the  ditch, 
and  the  last  glimpse  of  the  rumpus  obtained,  as  I  sweep  past  and 
down  the  hill  beyond,  is  the  man  pawing  the  air  with  his  naked 
feet  and  the  dog  struggling  to  free  himself  from  the  entangling 
harness. 

Up  among  the  hills,  at  the  village  of  Strenburg,  night  arrives 
at  a  very  opportune  moment  to-day,  for  Strenburg  proves  a  nice, 
sociable  sort  of  village,  where  the  doctor  can  speak  good  English 
and  plays  the  role  of  interpreter  for  me  at  the  gasthaus.  The 
school-ma'am,  a  vivacious  Italian  lady,  in  addition  to  French  and 
German,  can  also  speak  a  few  words  of  English,  though  she  per- 
sistently refers  to  herself  as  the  "school-master."  She  boards  at 
the  same  gasthaus,  and  all  the  evening  long  I  am  favored  by  the 
liveliest  prattle  and  most  charming  gesticulations  imaginable,  while 
the  room  is  half  fiUed  with  her  class  of  young  lady  aspirants  to 
linguistic  accomplishments,  listening  to  our  amusing,  if  not  in- 
structive, efforts  to  carry  on  a  conversation.  It  is  altogether  a  most 
enjoyable  evening,  and  on  parting  I  am  requested  to  write  when 
I  get  around  the  world  and  tell  the  Strenburgers  all  that  I  have 
seen  and  experienced.  On  top  of  the  gasthaus  is  a  rude  observa- 
tory, and  before  starting  I  take  a  view  of  the  country.  The  out- 
look is  magnificent  ;  the  Austrian  Alps  are  towering  skyward  to  the 
southeast,  rearing  snow-crowned  heads  out  from  among  a  biUowy 
sea  of  pine-covered  hills,  and  to  the  northward  is  the  lovely  valley 
of  the  Danube,  the  river  glistening  softly  through  the  morning 
haze. 

On  yonder  height,  overlooking  the  Danube  on  the  one  hand 
and  the  town  of  Molk  on  the  other,  is  the  largest  and  most  im- 
posing edifice  I  have  yet  seen  in  Austria  ;  it  is  a  convent  of  the 


140 


PEOM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


Benedictine  monks ;  and  though  Molk  is  a  solid,  substantially 
built  town,  of  perhaps  a  thousand  inhabitants,  I  should  think  there 
is  more  material  in  the  immense  convent  building  than  in  the 
whole  town  besides,  and  one  naturally  wonders  whatever  use  the 
monks  can  possibly  have  for  a  building  of  such  enormous  dimen- 
sions. 

Entering  a  barber's  shop  here  for  a  shave,  I  find  the  barber  fol- 


The   Barber  of  Molk. 


lowing  the  example  of  so  many  of  his  countrymen  by  snoozing  the 
mid-day  hours  happily  and  unconsciously  away.  One  could  easily 
pocket  and  walk  off  with  his  stock-in-trade,  for  small  is  the  danger 
of  his  awakening.  Waking  him  up,  he  shuffles  mechanically  over 
to  his  razor  and  lathering  apparatus,  this  latter  being  a  soup-plate 
with  a  semicircular  piece  chipped  out  to  fit,  after  a  fashion,  the 
contour  of  the  customers'  throats.     Pressing  this  jagged  edn'e  of 


GERMANY,    AUSTRIA,    AND   HUNGART.  141 

queen's-waxe  against  your  ■windpipe,  the  artist  alternately  rubs  the 
water  and  a  cake  of  soap  therein  contained  about  your  face  with 
his  hands,  the  water  meanwhile  passing  freely  between  the  ill-fit- 
ting soup-plate  and  your  throat,  and  running  down  your  breast  ; 
but  don't  complain  ;  be  reasonable  :  no  reasonable-minded  person 
could  expect  one  soup-plate,  however  carefully  chipped  out,  to  fit 
the  throats  of  the  entire  male  population  of  Molk,  besides  such 
travellers  as  happen  along. 

Spending  the  night  at  Neu  Lengbach,  I  climb  hiUs  and  wabble 
along,  over  rough,  lumpy  roads,  toward  Vienna,  reaching  the 
Austrian  capital  Sunday  morning,  and  putting  up  at  the  Englischer 
Z?o/" about  noon.  At  Vienna  I  determine  to  make  a  halt  of  two 
days,  and  on  Tuesday  pay  a  visit  to  the  headquarters  of  the  Vienna 
Wanderers'  Bicycle  Club,  away  out  on  a  suburban  street  called 
Schmmmschulenstrasse  ;  and  the  club  promises  that  if  I  will  delay 
my  departure  another  day  they  will  get  up  a  small  party  of  wheel- 
men to  escort  me  seventy  kilometres,  to  Presburg.  The  bicycle 
clubs  of  Vienna  have,  at  the  "Wanderers'  headquarters,  constructed 
an  excellent  race-track,  three  and  one-third  laps  to  the  English  mile, 
at  an  expense  of  2,000  gulden,  and  this  evening  several  of  Austiia's 
fliers  are  training  upon  it  for  the  approaching  races.  English  and 
American  wheelmen  little  understand  the  difficulties  these  Vienna 
cyclers  have  to  contend  with  :  all  the  city  inside  the  Eingstrasse, 
and  no  less  than  fifty  streets  outside,  are  forbidden  to  the  mounted 
cyclers,  and  they  are  required  to  ticket  themselves  with  big,  glaring 
letters,  as  also  their  lamps  at  night,  so  that,  in  case  of  violating  any 
of  these  regulations,  they  can  by  their  number  be  readily  recog- 
nized by  the  police.  Self-preservation  compels  the  clubs  to  exer- 
cise every  precaution  against  violating  the  police  regulations,  in 
order  not  to  excite  popular  prejudice  overwhelmingly  against  bicy- 
cles, and  ere  a  new  rider  is  permitted  to  venture  outside  their  own 
grounds  he  is  hauled  up  before  a  regularly  organized  committee, 
consisting  of  officers  from  each  club  in  Vienna,  and  required  to 
go  through  a  regular  examination  in  mounting,  dismounting,  and 
otherwise  proving  to  their  entire  satisfaction  his  proficiency  in 
managing  and  manceuvi-ing  his  wheel ;  besides  which  every  cycler 
is  provided  with  a  pamphlet  containing  a  list  of  the  streets  he  may 
and  may  not  frequent.  In  spite  of  all  these  harassing  regulations, 
the  Austrian  capital  has  already  two  hundi-ed  riders. 

The  Viennese  impress  themselves  upon  me  as  being  possessed 


142  FROM   SAN    FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

of  more  than  ordinary  individuality.  Yonder  comes  a  man,  walking 
languidly  along,  and  carrying  his  hat  in  his  hand,  because  it  is 
warm,  and  just  behind  him  comes  a  feUow-citizen  muffled  up  in  an 
overcoat  because — because  of  Viennese  individuality.  The  people 
seem  to  walk  the  streets  with  a  swaying,  happy-go-anyhow  sort  of 
gait,  colliding  with  one  another  and  jostling  together  on  the  side- 
walk in  the  happiest  manner  imaginable. 

At  five  o'clock  on  Thursday  morning  I  am  dressing,  when  I 
am  notified  that  two  cyclers  are  awaiting  me  below.  Church-bells 
are  clanging  joyously  all  over  Vienna  as  we  meander  toward  sub- 
urbs, and  people  are  already  streaming  in  the  direction  of  the  St. 
Stephen's  Church,  near  the  centre  of  the  city,  for  to-day  is  Frohn- 
leichnam  (Coi-pus  Christi),  and  the  Emperor  and  many  of  the  great 
ecclesiastical,  civil,  and  military  personages  of  the  empire  'will  pass 
in  procession  with  all  pomp  and  circumstance  ;  and  the  average 
Viennese  is  not  the  person  to  miss  so  important  an  occasion.  Three 
other  wheelmen  are  awaiting  us  in  the  suburbs,  and  together  we 
ride  through  the  waving  barley-fields  of  the  Danube  bottom  to 
Schwechat,  for  the  light  breakfast  customary  in  Austria,  and  thence 
onward  to  Petronelle,  thirty  kilometres  distant,  where  we  halt  a 
few  minutes  for  a  Corpus  Christi  procession,  and  drink  a  glass  of 
white  Hungarian  wine.  Near  Petronelle  are  the  remains  of  an  old 
Roman  waU,  extending  from  the  Danube  to  a  lake  called  the  Neu- 
sledler  See.  My  companions  say  it  was  built  2,000  years  ago,  when 
the  sway  of  the  Romans  extended  over  such  ]parts  of  Europe  as 
were  worth  the  trouble  and  expense  of  swaying.  The  roads  are 
found  rather  rough  and  inferior,  on  account  of  loose  stones  and 
uneven  surface,  as  we  push  forward  toward  Pr^sburg,  passing 
through  a  dozen  villages  whose  streets  are  carpeted  with  fresh-cut 
grass,  and  converted  into  temporary  avenues,  with  branches  stuck  in 
the  ground,  in  honor  of  the  day  they  are  celebrating.  At  Hamburtr 
we  pass  beneath  an  archway  nine  hundred  years  old,  and  wheel 
on  through  the  grass-carpeted  streets  between  rows  of  Hungarian 
soldiers  drawn  up  in  line,  with  green  oak-sprigs  in  their  hats ;  the 
villagers  are  swarming  from  the  church,  whose  bells  are  filling  the 
air  with  their  clangor,  and  on  the  summit  of  an  over- shadowing  cliff 
are  the  massive  ruins  of  an  ancient  castle.  Near  about  noon  we 
roll  into  Presburg,  warm  and  dusty,  and  after  dinner  take  a  stroll 
through  the  Jewish  quarter  of  the  town  up  to  the  height  upon 
which  Presburg  castle  is  situated,  and  from  which  a  most  extensive 


144  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

and  beautiful  view  of  the  Danube,  its  wooded  bluffs  and  broad,  rich 
bottom-lands,  is  obtainable.  At  dinner  the  waiter  hands  me  a 
card,  which  reads  :  "  Pardon  me,  but  I  believe  you  are  an  English- 
man, in  which  case  I  beg  the  privilege  of  drinking  a  glass  of  wine 
with  you."  The  sender  is  an  English  gentleman  residing  at  Buda- 
pest, Hungary,  who,  after  the  requested  glass  of  wine,  tells  me  that 
he  guessed  who  1  was  when  he  first  saw  me  enter  the  garden  with 
the  five  Austrian  wheelmen. 

My  Austrian  escort  rides  out  with  me  to  a  certain  cross-road, 
to  make  sure  of  heading  me  direct  toward  Budapest,  and  as  we 
part  they  bid  me  good  speed,  with  a  hearty  "  Eljen  I  " — the  Hunga- 
rian "Hip,  hip,  hui-rah."  After  leaving  Presburg  and  crossing  over 
into  Hungary  the  road-bed  is  of  a  loose  gravel  that,  during  the  dry 
weather  this  country  is  now  experiencing,  is  churned  up  and  loos- 
ened by  every  passing  vehicle,  until  one  might  as  well  think  of  rid- 
ing over  a  ploughed  field.  But  there  is  a  fair  proportion  of  ridable 
side-paths,  so  that  I  make  reasonably  good  time.  Altenburg,  my 
objective  point  for  the  night,  is  the  centre  of  a  sixty-thousand-acre 
estate  belonging  to  the  Archduke  Albrecht,  uncle  of  the  present 
Emperor  of  Austro-Hungary,  and  one  of  the  wealthiest  land-owners 
in  the  empire.  Ere  I  have  been  at  the  gasthaus  an  hour  I  am  hon- 
ored by  a  visit  from  Professor  Thallmeyer,  of  the  Altenburg  Royal 
Agricultural  School,  who  invites  me  over  to  his  house  to  spend  an 
hour  in  conversation,  and  in  the  discussion  of  a  bottle  of  Hungary's 
best  vintage,  for  the  learned  professor  can  talk  very  good  English, 
and  his  wife  is  of  English  birth  and  parentage.  Although  Frau 
Thallmeyer  left  England  at  the  tender  age  of  two  years,  she  calls 
herself  an  Englishwoman,  speaks  of  England  as  "  home,"  and  wel- 
comes to  her  house  as  a  countryman  any  wandering  Briton  hap- 
pening along.  I  am  no  longer  in  a  land  of  small  peasant  proprie- 
tors, and  there  is  a  noticeably  large  proportion  of  the  land  devoted 
to  grazing  purposes,  that  in  Prance  or  Germany  would  be  found 
divided  into  small  farms,  and  every  foot  cultivated.  Villages  are 
farther  apart,  and  are  invariably  adjacent  to  large  commons,  on 
which  roam  flocks  of  noisy  geese,  herds  of  ponies,  and  cattle  with 
horns  that  would  make  a  Texan  blush — the  long-horned  roadsters 
of  Hungary.  The  costumes  of  the  Hungarian  peasants  are  both 
picturesque  and  novel,  the  women  and  girls  wearing  top-boots  and 
short  dresses  on  holiday  occasions  and  Sundays,  and  at  other  times 
short  dresses  without  any  boots  at  all ;  the  men  wear  loose-flowing 


GEKMANY,   AUSTRIA,   AND   HUNGARY.  145 

pantaloons  of  white,  coarse  linen  tliat  reach  just  below  the  knees, 
and  which  a  casual  observer  would  unhesitatingly  pronounce  a 
short  skirt,  the  material  being  so  ample.  Hungary  is  still  practi- 
cally a  land  of  serfs  and  nobles,  and  nearly  every  peasant  encoun- 
tered along  the  road  touches  his  cap  respectfully,  in  instinctive 
acknowledgment,  as  it  were,  of  his  inferiority.  Long  rows  of 
women  are  seen  hoeing  in  the  fields  vntli  watchful  overseers  stand- 
ing over  them — a  scene  not  unsuggestive  of  plantation  life  in  the 
Southern  States  in  the  days  of  slavery.  If  these  gangs  of  women 
are  not  more  than  about  two  hundred  yards  from  the  road  their 
inquisitiveness  overcomes  every  other  consideration,  and  dropj)ing 
everything,  the  whole  crowd  comes  helter-skelter  across  the  field  to 
obtain  a  closer  view  of  the  strange  vehicle  ;  for  it  is  only  in  the 
neighborhood  of  one  or  two  of  the  principal  cities  of  Hungary  that 
one  ever  sees  a  bicycle. 

Gangs  of  gypsies  are  now  frequently  met  with  ;  they  are  dark- 
skinned,  interesting  people,  and  altogether  different-looking  from 
those  occasionally  encountered  in  England  and  America,  where,  al- 
though swarthy  and  dark-skinned,  they  bear  no  comparison  in  that 
respect  to  these,  whose  skin  is  wellnigh  black,  and  whose  gleaming 
white  teeth  and  brilliant,  coal-black  eyes  stamp  them  plainly  as 
alien  to  the  race  around  them.  Bagged,  unwashed,  happy  gangs 
of  vagabonds  these  stragglers  appear,  and  regular  droves  of  par- 
tially or  wholly  naked  youngsters  come  raciag  after  me,  calling  out 
"  kreuzer  !  kreuzer !  kreuzer  ! "  and  holding  out  hand  or  tattered 
hat  in  a  supplicating  manner  as  they  run  along-side.  Unlike  the 
peasantry,  none  of  these  gypsies  touch  their  hats ;  indeed,  yon 
swarthy-faced  vagabond,  arrayed  mainly  in  gewgaws,  and  eyiag  me 
curiously  with  his  piercing  black  eyes,  may  be  priding  himself  on 
having  royal  blood  in  his  veins  ;  and,  unregenerate  chicken-lifter 
though  he  doubtless  be,  would  scarce  condescend  to  touch  bis  tat- 
tered tile  even  to  the  Emperor  of  Austria.  The  black  eyes  scintil- 
late as  they  take  notice  of  what  they  consider  the  great  wealth  of 
sterling  silver  about  the  machiae  I  bestride.  Eastward  from  Alten- 
burg  the  main  portion  of  the  road  continues  for  the  most  part  un- 
ridably  loose  and  heavy. 

For  some  kilometres  out  of  Eaab  the  road  presents  a  far  better 
surface,  and  I  ride  quite  a  lively  race  with  a  small  Danube  passen- 
ger steamer  that  is  starting  down-stream.  The  steamboat  toots  and 
forges  ahead,  and  in  answer  to  the  waving  of  hats  and  exclamations 
10 


146  FROM  SAN    FEANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

of  encouragement  from  the  passengers,  I  likewise  forge  ahead,  and 
although  the  boat  is  going  down-stream  with  the  strong  current 
of  the  Danube,  as  long  as  the  road  continues  fairly  good  I  manage 
to  keep  in  advance  ;  but  soon  the  loose  surface  reappears,  and  when 
I  arrive  at  Gonys,  for  lunch,  I  find  the  steamer  already  tied  up,  and 
the  passengers  and  officers  greet  my  appearance  with  shouts  of  rec- 
ognition. My  route  along  the  Danube  Valley  leads  through  broad, 
level  wheat-fields  that  recall  memories  of  the  Sacramento  Valley, 
CaUfomia.  Geese  appear  as  the  most  plentiful  objects  around  the 
villages  :  there  are  geese  and  goslings  everywhere  ;  and  this  even- 
ing, in  a  small  village,  I  wheel  quite  over  one,  to  the  dismay  of  the 
maiden  driving  them  homeward,  and  the  unconcealed  delight  of 
several  small  Hungarians. 

At  the  village  of  Nezmely  I  am  to-night  treated  to  a  foretaste  of 
what  is  probably  in  store  for  me  at  a  goodly  number  of  places 
ahead  by  being  consigned  to  a  bunch  of  hay  and  a  couple  of  sacks 
in  the  stable  as  the  best  sleeping  accommodations  the  vUlage  gast- 
haus  afibrds.  True,  I  am  assigned  the  place  of  honor  in  the  man- 
ger, which,  though  uncomfortably  narrow  and  confining,  is  perhaps 
better  accommodation,  after  all,  than  the  peregrinating  tinker  and 
three  other  hkely-iooking  characters  are  enjoying  on  the  bare  floor. 
Some  of  these  companions,  upon  retiring,  pray  aloud  at  unseemly 
length,  and  one  of  them,  at  least,  keeps  it  up  in  his  sleep  at  frequent 
intervals  through  the  night ;  horses  and  work-cattle  are  rattling 
chains  and  munching  hay,  and  an  uneasy  goat,  with  a  bell  around 
his  neck,  fills  the  stable  with  an  incessant  tinkle  tiU  dawn.  Black 
bread  and  a  cheap  but  very  good  quaUty  of  white  wine  seem  about 
the  only  refreshment  obtainable  at  these  little  villages.  One  asks 
in  vain  for  milck-brod,  butter,  kcise,  or  in  fact  anything  acceptable 
to  the  English  palate  ;  the  answer  to  all  questions  concerning  these 
things  is  "nicht,  nicht,  nicht." — "What  have  you,  then?"  I  some- 
times ask,  the  answer  to  which  is  almost  invariably  "  brod  und  wein." 
Stone-yards  thronged  with  busy  workmen,  chipping  stone  for  ship- 
ment to  cities  along  the  Danube,  are  a  feature  of  these  river-side 
villages.  The  farther  one  travels  the  more  frequently  gypsies  are 
encountered  on  the  road.  In  almost  every  band  is  a  maiden,  who, 
by  reason  of  real  or  imaginary  beauty,  occupies  the  position  of  pet 
of  the  camp,  wears  a  profusion  of  beads  and  trinkets,  decorates 
herself  with  wild  flowers,  and  is  permitted  to  do  no  manner  of 
drudgery.     Some  of  these  gypsy  maidens  are  really  quite  beautiful 


GERMANY,    AUSTP.IA,    AXD    HUNGARY.  147 

iu  spite  of  their  very  dai-k  complexions.  Their  eyes  glisten  with 
inborn  avai-ice  as  I  sweep  past  on  my  "  silver  "  bicycle,  and  in  their 
astonishment  at  my  strange  appearance  and  my  evidently  enormous 
wealth  they  almost  forget  their  plaintive  waU  of  "  kreuzer !  kreu- 
zer !  "  a  cry  which  readily  bespeaks  their  origin,  and  is  easily  recog- 
nized as  an  echo  from  the  land  where  the  cry  of  "  backsheesh  "  is 
seldom  out  of  the  traveller's  hearing. 

The  roads  east  of  Nezmely  ai-e  variable,  flint-strewn  ways  pre- 
dominating ;  otherwise  the  way  would  be  very  agreeable,  since  the 
gradients  are  gentle,  and  the  dust  not  over  two  inches  deep,  as 
against  three  in  most  of  Austro-Hungary  thus  far  traversed.  The 
weather  is  broUing  hot ;  but  I  worry  along  perseveringly,  through 
rough  and  smooth,  toward  the  land  of  the  rising  sun.  Nearing  Buda- 
pest the  roads  become  somewhat  smoother,  but  at  the  same  time  hill- 
ier,  the  country  changing  to  vine-clad  slopes  ;  and  all  along  the  un- 
dulating ways  I  meet  wagons  laden  with  huge  wine-casks.  Reaching 
Budapest  in  the  afternoon,  I  seek  out  Mr.  Kosztovitz,  of  the  Buda- 
pest Bicycle  Club,  and  consul  of  the  Cj'clists'  Touiing  Club,  who 
proves  a  most  agreeable  gentleman,  and  who,  besides  being  an  en- 
thusiastic cycler,  talks  English  perfectly.  There  is  more  of  the  sport- 
ing spirit  iu  Budapest,  perhaps,  than  in  any  other  city  of  its  size  on 
the  Continent,  and  no  sooner  is  my  arrival  known  than  I  am  taken 
in  hand  and  practically  compelled  to  remain  over  at  least  one  day. 
Svetozar  Igali,  a  noted  cycle  tourist  of  the  village  of  Duna  SzekesiJ, 
now  visiting  the  international  exhibition  at  Budapest,  volunteers  to 
accompany  me  to  Belgrade,  and  perhaps  to  Constantinople.  I  am 
rather  surprised  at  finding  so  much  cychng  enthusiasm  in  the  Hun- 
garian capital.  Mr.  Kosztovitz,  who  lived  some  time  in  England, 
and  was  president  of  a  bicycle  club  there,  had  the  honor  of  bring- 
ing the  first  wheel  into  the  AustroHungai-ian  empire,  in  the  autumn 
of  1879,  and  now  Budapest  alone  has  three  clubs,  aggregating  nearly 
a  hundred  riders,  and  a  still  greater  number  of  non-riding  mem- 
bers. 

Cyclers  have  far  more  liberty  accorded  them  in  Budapest  than 
in  Vienna,  being  permitted  to  roam  the  city  almost  as  untrammelled 
as  in  London,  this  happy  condition  of  affairs  being  partly  the  re- 
sult of  Mr.  Kosztovitz's  diplomacy  in  presenting  a  ready  drawn-up 
set  of  rules  and  regulations  for  the  government  of  wheelmen  to 
the  police  authorities  when  the  first  bicycle  was  introduced,  and 
partly  to  the  police  magistrate,  being  himself  an  enthusiastic  all- 


148  FROM    SAX    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN". 

'round  sportsman,  inclined  to  patronize  anything  in  the  way  of 
athletics.  They  are  even  experimenting  in  the  Hungarian  army 
with  the  view  of  organizing  a  bicycle  despatch  service  ;  and  I  am 
told  that  they  already  have  a  bicycle  despatch  in  successful  opera- 
tion in  the  Bavarian  army.  In  the  evening  I  am  the  club's  guest  at 
a  supper  under  the  shade-trees  in  the  exhibition  grounds.  Mr. 
Kosztovitz  and  another  gentleman  who  can  speak  EngUsh  act  as  in- 
terpreters, and  here,  amid  the  merry  clinking  of  champagne-glasses, 
the  glare  of  electric  lights,  with  the  ravishing  music  of  an  Hunga- 
rian gypsy  band  on  our  right,  and  a  band  of  swarthy  Servians  play- 
ing their  sweet  native  melodies  on  our  left,  we,  among  other  toasts, 
drink  to  the  success  of  my  tour.  There  is  a  cosmopoHtan  and 
exceedingly  interesting  crowd  of  visitors  at  the  international  ex- 
hibition :  natives  from  Bulgaria,  Servia,  Eoumania,  and  Turkey,  in 
their  national  costumes  ;  and  mingled  among  them  are  Hungarian 
jjeasants  from  various  provinces,  some  of  them  in  a  remarkably 
picturesque  dress,  that  I  afterward  learn  is  Croatian. 

A  noticeable  feature  of  Budapest,  besides  a  predilection  for 
sport  among  the  citizens,  is  a  larger  proportion  of  handsome  ladies 
than  one  sees  in  most  European  cities,  and  there  is,  moreover,  a 
certain  atmosphere  about  them  that  makes  them  rather  agreeable 
company.  If  one  is  traveUing  around  the  world  with  a  bicycle,  it 
is  not  at  all  inconsistent  with  Budapest  propriety  for  the  wife  of 
the  wheelman  sitting  opposite  you  to  remark  that  she  wishes  she 
were  a  rose,  that  you  might  wear  her  for  a  button-hole  bouquet  on 
your  journey,  and  to  ask  whether  or  not,  in  that  case,  you  would 
throw  the  rose  away  when  it  faded.  Compliments,  pleasant,  yet 
withal  as  meaningless  as  the  coquettish  glances  and  fan-play  that 
accompany  them,  are  given  with  a  freedom  and  liberality  that  put 
the  sterner  native  of  more  western  countries  at  his  wits'  end  to  re- 
turn them.  But  the  most  delightful  thing  in  all  Hungary  is  its 
gypsy  music.  As  it  is  played  here  beneath  its  own  sunny  skies, 
methinks  there  is  nothing  in  the  wide  world  to  compare  with  it^ 
The  music  does  not  suit  the  taste  of  some  people,  however ;  it  is 
too  wild  and  thrilling.  Budapest  is  a  place  of  many  languages, 
one  of  the  waiters  in  the  exhibition  caf6  claiming  the  ability  to 
speak  and  understand  no  less  than  fourteen  different  languages  and 
dialects. 

Nine  wheelmen  accompany  me  some  distance  out  of  Budapest 
on  Monday  morning,  and  Mr.  Philipovitz  and  two  other  members 


GERMANY,    AUSTRIA,   AND   HUNGARY.  149 

continue  with  Igali  and  me  to  Duna  Pentele,  some  seventy-five 
miles  distant ;  this  is  our  first  sleeping-place,  the  captain  making 
me  his  guest  iintil  our  separation  and  departure  in  different  direc- 
tions, next  morning.  Dui-ing  the  fierce  heat  of  mid-day  we  halt  for 
about  three  hours  at  Adony,  and  spend  a  pleasant  after-dinner 
hour  examining  the  trappings  and  trophies  of  a  noted  sporting  gen- 
tleman, and  witnessing  a  lively  and  interesting  set-to  with  fen- 
cing foils.  There  is  everything  in  fire-arms  in  his  cabinet,  from  an 
English  double-barrelled  shot-gun  to  a  tiny  air-pistol  for  shooting 
flies  on  the  walls  of  his  sitting-room  ;  he  has  swords,  oars,  gymnas- 
tic paraphernalia — in  fact,  everything  but  boxing  gloves. 

Arriving  at  Duna  Pentele  early  in  the  evening,  before  supper 
we  swim  for  an  hour  in  the  waters  of  the  Danube.  At  9.30  p.m. 
two  of  oiu-  little  company  board  the  up-stream-bound  steamer  for 
the  return  home,  and  at  ten  o'clock  we  are  proposing  to  retire  for 
the  night,  when  lo,  in  come  a  half-dozen  gentlemen,  among  them 
llr.  XJjvarii,  whose  private  wine-cellar  is  celebrated  all  the  country 
round,  and  who  now  proposes  that  we  postpone  going  to  bed  long 
enough  to  pay  a  short  visit  to  his  cellar  and  sample  the  "finest 
wine  in  Hungary."  This  is  an  invitation  not  to  be  resisted  by 
ordinary  mortals,  and  accordingly  we  accept,  following  the  gentle- 
man and  his  friends  through  the  dark  streets  of  the  village.  Along 
the  dark,  cool  vault  penetrating  the  hill-side  Mr.  tJjviSrii  leads  the 
way  between  long  rows  of  wine-casks,  heber  *  held  in  ai"m  like  a 
sword  at  dress  parade.  The  heber  is  first  inserted  into  a  cask  of 
red  wine,  with  a.  perfume  and  flavor  as  agreeable  as  the  rose  it  re- 
sembles in  color,  and  cai-ried,  full,  to  the  reception  end  of  the  vault 
by  the  coipulent  host  with  the  stately  air  of  a  monarch  bearing 
his  sceptre.  After  two  rounds  of  the  red  wine,  two  hebers  of 
champagne  are  brought — champagne  that  plays  a  fountain  of  dia- 
mond spray  three  inches  above  the  glass.  The  following  toast  is 
proposed  by  the  host :  "  The  prosperity  and  welfare  of  England, 
America,  and  Hungary,  three  countries  that  are  one  in  their  love 
and  appreciation  of  sport  and  adventure.''  The  Hungarians  have 
all  the  Anglo-American  love  of  sport  and  adventure. 

*  A  glass  combination  of  tube  and  flask,  holding  about  three  pints,  with  an 
orifice  at  each  end  and  tlie  bulb  or  flask  near  the  upper  orifice ;  the  wine  is 
sucked  up  into  the  flask  with  the  breath,  and  when  withdrawn  from  the  ca.«k 
the  index  finger  is  held  over  the  lower  orifice,  from  which  the  glasses  are 
filled  by  manipulations  of  the  finger. 


150  FROM   SAN   FEANCrSCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

From  Budapest  to  Paks,  about  one  liundrecl  and  twenty  kilo-t 
metres,  the  roads  are  superior  to  anything  I  expected  to  find  east 
of  Germany  ;  but  the  thermometer  clings  around  the  upper  regions, 
and  everything  is  covered  with  dust.  Our  route  leads  down  the 
Danube  in  an  almost  directly  southern  course. 

Instead  of  the  poplars  of  France,  and  the  apples  and  pears  of 
Germany,  the  roads  are  now  fringed  witli  mulberry-trees,  both 
raw  and  manufactured  silk  being  a  product  of  this  part  of  Hun- 
gary. 

My  companion  is  what  in  England  or  America  would  be  con- 
sidered a  "  character  ; ''  he  dresses  in  the  thinnest  of  racing  cos- 
tumes, through  which  the  broiling  sun  readily  penetrates,  wears 
racing-shoes,  and  a  small  jockey-cap  with  an  enormous  poke,  be- 
neath which  glints  a  pair  of  "  specs  ; "  he  has  rat-trap  pedals  to  his 
wheel,  and  winds  a  long  blue  girdle  several  times  around  his  waist, 
consumes  raw  eggs,  wine,  milk,  a  certain  Hungarian  mineral  water, 
and  otherwise  excites  the  awe  and  admiration  of  his  sport-admiring 
countrymen.  Igali's  only  fault  as  a  road  companion  is  his  utter 
lack  of  speed,  six  or  eight  kilometres  an  hour  being  his  natural 
pace  on  average  roads,  besides  footing  it  up  the  gentlest  of  gradi- 
ents and  over  all  rough  stretches.  Except  for  this  little  drawback, 
he  is  an  excellent  man  to  take  the  lead,  for  he  is  a  genuine  Magyar, 
and  orders  the  peasantry  about  with  the  authoritative  manner  of 
one  born  to  rule  and  tyrannize  ;  sometimes,  when  the  surface  is  un- 
even for  wheeling,  making  them  drive  their  cliimsj'  ox-wagons 
almost  into  the  road-side  ditch  iu  oi'der  to  avoid  any  possible  chance 
of  difficulty  in  getting  past.  Igali  knows  four  languages  :  French, 
German,  Hungarian,  and  Slavonian,  but  Anglaise  nicht,  though  with 
what  little  French  and  German  I  have  j^icked  up  while  crossing 
those  countries  we  manage  to  converse  and  understand  each  other 
quite  readily,  especially  as  I  am,  from  constant  practice,  getting  to 
be  an  accomplished  pantomimist,  and  IgaU  is  also  a  pantomimist 
by  nature,  and  gifted  with  a  versatility  that  would  make  a  French- 
man envious.  Ere  we  have  been  five  minutes  at  a  gasthaus  Igali  is 
usually  found  surrounded  by  an  admiring  circle  of  leading  citizens 
— not  peasants  ;  Igali  would  not  suffer  them  to  gather  about  him 
— pouring  into  their  willing  ears  the  account  of  my  journey  ;  the 
words,  "  San  Francisco,  Boston,  London,  Paris,  Wien,  Pesth,  Bel- 
grade, Constantinople,  Afghanistan,  India,  Khiva,"  etc.,  which  are 
repeated  in  rotation  at  wonderfully  short  intervals,  being  about  all 


GERMATSTT,    AUSTRIA,  AND  HUNGARY.  151 

that  my  linguistic  abilities  are  capable  of  grasping.  The  road  con- 
tinues hard,  but  south  of  Paks  it  becomes  rather  rough  ;  conse- 
quently, halts  under  the  shade  of  the  mulberry-trees  for  Igali  to 
catch  up  are  of  frequent  occurrence. 

The  peasantry,  hereabout,  seem  very  kindly  disposed  and  hos- 
pitable. Sometimes,  while  lingering  for  Igali,  they  -will  wonder 
what  I  am  stopping  for,  and  motion  the  questions  of  whether  I  wish 
anything  to  eat  or  drink  ;  and  this  afternoon  one  of  them,  whose 
curiosity  to  see  how  I  mounted  overcomes  his  patience,  offers  me  a 
twenty-kreuzer  piece  to  show  him.  At  one  village  a  number  of 
peasants  take  an  old  cherry-woman  to  task  for  charging  me  two 
kreuzers  more  for  some  cherries  than  it  appears  she  ought,  and  al- 
though two  kreuzers  are  but  a  farthing  they  make  quite  a  squabble 
with  the  poor  old  woman  about  it,  and  will  be  soothed  by  neither 
her  voice  nor  mine  until  I  accept  another  handful  of  cherries  in  lieu 
of  the  overcharged  two  kreuzers. 

Szekszard  has  the  reputation,  hereabout,  of  producing  the  best 
quality  of  red  wine  i?!  all  Hungary — no  small  boast,  by  the  way — 
and  the  hotel  and  wine-gardens  here,  among  them,  support  an  ex- 
cellent gypsy  band  of  fourteen  pieces.  Mr.  Gari'iy,  the  leader  of 
the  band,  once  spent  nearly  a  year  in  America,  and  after  supper  the 
band  plays,  with  all  the  thrilling  sweetness  of  the  Hungarian  muse, 
"Home,  sweet  Home,"  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  and  "Sweet  Violets,"  for 
my  especial  delectation. 

A  wheelman  the  fame  of  whose  exploits  has  preceded  him 
might  as  well  try  to  wheel  through  hospitable  Hungary  without 
breathing  its  atmosphere  as  without  drinking  its  wine  ;  it  isn't  pos- 
sible to  taboo  it  as  I  tabooed  the  vin  ordinaire  of  France,  Hunga- 
rians and  Frenchmen  being  two  entirely  different  people. 

Notwithstanding  music  until  11.30  p.m.,  yesterday,  we  are  on 
the  road  before  six  o'clock  this  morning — for  genuine,  unadulter- 
ated Hungarian  music  does  not  prevent  one  getting  up  bright  and 
fresh  next  day — and  about  noon  we  roll  into  Duna  Szekeso,  Igali's 
native  town,  where  we  have  decided  to  halt  for  the  remainder  of 
the  day  to  get  our  clothing  washed,  one  of  my  shoes  repaired,  and 
otherwise  i^repare  for  our  journey  to  the  Ssrvian  capital.  Duna 
Szekeso  is  a  calling-place  for  the  Danube  steamers,  and  this  after- 
noon I  have  the  opportunity  of  taking  obsei-vations  of  a  gang  of 
Danubian  roustabouts  at  their  noontide  meal.  They  are  a  swarthy, 
wild-looking  crowd,  wearing  long  hair  parted  in  the  middle,  or  not 


152  FEOM   SAN   FRAA'CISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

parted  at  all ;  to  their  national  costume  are  added  the  jaunty  trap- 
pings affected  by  river  men  in  all  countries.  Their  food  is  coarse 
black  bread  and  meat,  and  they  take  turns  in  drinking  wine  from 
a  wooden  tube  protruding  from  a  two-gallon  watch-shaped  cask, 
the  body  of  which  is  composed  of  a  section  of  hollow  log  instead  of 
staves,  lifting  the  cask  up  and  drinking  from  the  tube,  as  they 
would  from  the  bung-hole  of  a  beer-keg.  Their  black  bread  would 
hardly  suit  the  palate  of  the  Western  world  ;  but  there  are  doubt- 
less a  few  individuals  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  who  would  will- 
ingly be  transformed  into  a  Danubian  roustabout  long  enough  to 
make  the  acquaintance  of  yonder  rude  cask. 

After  bathing  in  the  river  we  call  on  several  of  Igali's  friends, 
among  them  the  Greek  priest  and  his  motherly-looking  vrife,  Igali 
being  of  the  Greek  religion.  There  appears  to  be  the  greatest 
familiarity  between  the  priests  of  these  Greek  churches  and  their 
people,  and  during  our  brief  visit  the  priest,  languid-eyed,  fat,  and 
jolly,  his  equally  fat  and  joUy  wife,  and  Igali,  caress  playfully,  and 
cut  up  as  many  antics  as  three  kittens  in  a  bay  window.  The  far- 
ther one  travels  southward  the  more  amiable  and  affectionate  in 
disposition  the  people  seem  to  become. 

Five  o'clock  next  morning  finds  us  wheeling  out  of  Duna  Sze- 
keso,  and  dm-ing  the  forenoon  we  pass  through  Baranyavar,  a  col- 
ony of  Greek  Hovacs,  where  the  women  are  robed  in  white  drapery 
as  scant  as  the  statuary  which  the  name  of  their  religion  calls  to 
memory.  The  roads  to-day  are  variable  ;  there  is  little  but  what  is 
ridable,  but  much  that  is  rough  and  stony  enough  to  compel  slow 
and  careful  wheeling.  Early  in  the  evening,  as  we  wheel  over  the 
bridge  spanning  the  Eiver  Drave,  an  important  tributary  of  the 
Danube,  into  Eszek,  the  capital  of  Slavonia,  unmistakable  rain- 
signs  appear  above  the  southern  horizon. 


CHAPTER  Vri. 

THEOUGH   SLAVONIA  AND   SERVIA. 

The  editor  of  Der  Drau,  the  semi-weekly  official  organ  of  the 
Slavonian  capital,  and  Mr.  Freund,  being  the  two  citizens  of  Eszek 
capable  of  speaking  English,  join  voices  at  the  supper-table  in  hop- 
ing it  will  rain  enough  to  compel  us  to  remain  over  to-morrow, 
that  they  may  have  the  pleasure  of  showing  us  around  Eszek 
and  of  inviting  us  to  dinner  and  supper  ;  and  Igali,  I  am  con- 
strained to  believe,  retires  to  his  couch  in  full  sympathy  with 
them,  being  possessed  of  a  decided  weakness  for  stopping  over  and 
accepting  invitations  to  dine.  Their  united  wish  is  gratified,  for 
when  we  rise  in  the  morning  it  is  still  raining. 

Eszek  is  a  fortified  city,  and  has  been  in  time  past  an  important 
fortress.  It  has  lost  much  of  its  importance  since  the  introduction 
of  modern  arms,  for  it  occupies  perfectly  level  ground,  and  the  for- 
tifications consist  merely  of  large  trenches  that  have  been  excavated 
and  walled,  with  a  view  of  preventing  the  city  from  being  taken  by 
storm — not  a  very  overshadowing  consideration  in  these  days,  when 
the  usual  mode  of  procedure  is  to  stand  off  and  bombard  a  citj'  into 
the  conviction  that  further  resistance  is  useless.  After  dinner  the 
assistant  editor  of  Der  Drau  comes  around  and  pilots  us  about  the 
city  and  its  pleasant  environments.  The  worthy  assistant  editor  is 
a  sprightly,  versatile  Slav,  and,  as  together  we  promenade  the  parks 
and  avenues,  the  number  and  extent  of  which  appear  to  be  the  chief 
glory  of  Eszek,  the  ceaseless  flow  of  language  and  wellnigh  contin- 
uous interchange  of  gesticulations  between  himself  and  Igali  are 
quite  wonderful,  and  both  of  them  certainly  ought  to  retire  to-night 
far  more  enlightened  individuals  than  thej'  found  themselves  this 
morning. 

The  Hungarian  seems  in  a  particularly  happy  and  gracious 
mood  to-day,  as  I  instinctively  felt  certain  he  would  be  if  the  fates 
decreed  against  a  continuation  of  our  journey.  When  our  com- 
panion's  conversation  tiu-us  on  any  particularly  interesting  sub- 


154  FROM   SAW   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

ject  I  am  graciously  given  the  benefit  of  it  to  the  extent  of  some 
French  or  German  word  the  meaning  of  which,  Igali  has  discovered, 
I  understand.  During  the  afternoon  we  wander  through  the  intri- 
cacies of  a  yew-shrub  maze,  where  a  good-sized  area  of  impenetrably 
thick  vegetation  has  been  trained  and  trimmed  into  a  bewildering 
j  net- work  of  arched  walks  that  almost  exclude  the  light,  and  IgaU 
pauses  to  favor  me  with  the  information  that  this  maze  is  the  favor- 
ite trysting  place  of  Slavonian  nymphs  and  swains,  and  further- 
more expresses  his  opinion  that  the  spot  must  be  indeed  romantic 
and  an  appropriate  place  to  "  come  a-wooin'  "  on  nights  when  the 
moonbeams,  penetrating  through  a  thousand  tiny  interspaces,  con- 
vert the  gloomy  interior  into  chambers  of  dancing  light  and  shadow. 
All  this  information  and  these  comments  are  embodied  in  the  two 
short  words,  "  Amour,  luna,"  accompanied  by  a  few  gesticulations, 
and  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  manner  in  which  conversation  is  carried 
on  between  us.  It  is  quite  astonishing  how  readily  two  persons 
constantly  together  will  come  to  understand  each  other  through  the 
medium  of  a  few  words  which  they  know  the  meaning  of  in  com- 
mon. 

Scores  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  the  latter  chiefly  miUtary  offi- 
cers, are  enjoying  a  promenade  in  the  rain-cooled  atmosphere,  and 
there  is  no  mistaking  the  glances  of  interest  with  which  many  of 
them  favor — Igali.  His  pronounced  sportsmanlike  make-up  at- 
tracts universal  attention  and  causes  everybody  to  mistake  him  for 
myself— a  kindly  office  which  I  devoutly  wish  he  would  fiU  until 
the  whole  journej' is  accomplished.  In  the  Casino  garden  a  dozen 
bearded  musicians  are  playing  Slavonian  airs,  and,  by  request  of 
the  assistant  editor,  they  play  and  sing  the  Slavonian  national  an- 
them and  a  popular  air  or  two  besides.  The  national  musical  in- 
strument of  Slavonia  is  the  "tamborica" — a  smaU  steel-stringed 
instrument  that  is  twanged  with  a  chip-like  piece  of  wood.  Their 
singing  is  excellent  in  its  way,  but  to  the  writer's  taste  there  is  no 
comparison  between  their  tamboricas  and  the  gypsy  music  of  Hun- 
gary. 

There  are  no  bicycles  in  all  Eszek  save  ours— thouo-h  Mr. 
Freund,  who  has  lately  returned  from  Paris,  has  ordered  one,  with 

which  he  expects  to  win  the  admiration  of  all  his  countrymen 

and  Igali  and  myself  are  lionized  to  our  hearts'  content ;  but  this 
evening  we  are  quite  startled  and  taken  aback  by  the  reappearance 
of  the  assistant  editor,  excitedly  announcing  the  arrival  of  a  tricycle 


THROUGH    SLAVONIA   AND   SERVIA.  155 

in  town  !  Upon  going  down,  in  breathless  anticipation  of  summar- 
ilj-  losing  the  universal  admiration  of  Eszek,  we  find  an  itinerant 
cobbler,  who  has  constructed  a  machine  that  would  make  the  rudest 
bone-shaker  of  ancient  memory  seem  hke  the  most  elegant  product 
of  Hartford  or  Coventry  in  comparison.  The  backbone  and  axle- 
tree  are  roughly  hewn  sticks  of  wood,  ironed  equally  rough  at  the 
village  blacksmith's  ;  and  as,  for  a  twenty-kreuzer  piece,  the  rider 
mounts  and  wobbles  all  over  the  sidewalk  for  a  short  distance,  the 
spectacle  would  make  a  stoic  roar  with  laughter,  and  the  good  peo- 
ple of  the  Lower  Danubian  provinces  are  anything  but  stoical. 

Sis  o'clock  nest  morning  finds  us  travelling  southward  into  the 
interior  of  Slavonia ;  but  we  are  not  mounted,  for  the  road  pre- 
sents an  unridable  surface  of  mud,  stones,  and  ruts,  that  causes  my 
companion's  favorite  ejaciilatory  espletive  to  occur  with  more  than 
its  usual  frequency.  For  a  portion  of  the  waj-  there  is  a  narrow 
siclepath  that  is  fairly  ridable,  but  an  uuiuvitingly  deep  ditch  runs 
unpleasantly  near,  and  no  amount  of  persuasion  can  induce  my 
copnpanion  to  attempt  wheeling  along  it.  IgaH's  bump  of  cautious- 
ness is  fully  developed,  and  day  by  day,  as  we  journey  together,  I 
am  becoming  more  and  more  convinced  that  he  would  be  an  inval- 
uable companion  to  have  accompany  one  around  the  world  ;  true, 
the  journey  would  occupy  a  decade,  or  thereabout,  but  one  would 
be  morally  certain  of  coming  out  safe  and  sound  in  the  end. 

During  our  progression  southwaixl  there  has  been  a  percepti- 
ble softening  in  the  disposition  of  the  natives,  this  being  more  no- 
ticeably a  marked  characteristic  of  the  Slavonians  ;  the  generous 
southern  sun,  shining  on  the  great  area  of  Oriental  gentleness, 
casts  a  softening  influence  toward  the  sterner  north,  imparting  to 
the  people  amiable  and  genial  dispositions.  It  takes  but  compara- 
tively small  deeds  to  win  the  admiration  and  applause  of  the 
natives  of  the  Lower  Danube,  wth  their  chUdlike  manners  ;  and, 
by  slowly  meandering  along  the  roadways  of  Southern  Hungary 
occasionally  with  his  bicycle,  Igali  has  become  the  pride  and  ad- 
miration of  thousands. 

For  mile  after  mUe  we  have  to  trundle  our  way  slowly  along  the 
muddy  highway  as  best  we  can,  our  road  leading  through  a  flat  and 
rather  swampy  area  of  broad,  waving  wheat-fields  ;  we  reheve  the 
tedium  of  the  journey  bj'  whistling,  alternately,  "  Yankee  Doodle,"' 
to  which  IgaU  has  taken  quite  a  fancy  since  first  healing  it  played 
by  the  gypsy  band  in  the  wine-garden  at  Szekszard  three  days  ago, 


156  FKOM   SAW  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAIT. 

and  the  Hungarian  national  air — this  latter,  of  course,  falling  to 
Igali's  share  of  the  entertainment.  Having  been  to  college  in 
Paris,  IgaU  is  also  able  to  contribute  the  famous  Marseillaise 
hymn,  and,  not  to  be  outdone,  I  favor  him  with  "  God  Save  the 
Queen"  and  "Britannia  Eules  the  Waves,"  both  of  which  he  thinks 
very  good  tunes — the  former  seeming  to  strike  his  Hungarian  ear, 
however,  as  rather  solemn.  In  the  middle  of  the  forenoon  we 
make  a  brief  halt  at  a  rude  road-side  tavern  for  some  refreshments 
— a  thick,  narrow  slice  of  raw,  fat  bacon,  white  with  salt,  and  a 
level  pint  of  red  wine,  satisfying  my  companion  ;  but  I  substitute 
for  the  bacon  a  sHce  of  coarse,  black  bread,  much  to  Igali's  won- 
derment. Here  are  congregated  several  Slavonian  shepherds,  in 
their  large,  ill-fitting,  sheejDskin  garments,  with  the  long  wool 
turned  inward — clothes  that  apparently  serve  them  alike  to  keep 
out  the  summer's  heat  and  the  winter's  cold.  One  of  the  peas- 
ants, with  ideas  a  trifle  befuddled  with  wine,  perhaps,  and  face  all 
aglow  with  admiration  for  our  bicycles,  produces  a  tattered  memo- 
randum and  begs  us  to  favor  him  with  our  autographs,  an  act  that 
of  itself  proves  him  to  be  not  without  a  degree  of  intelligence  one 
would  scarcely  look  for  in  a  sheepskin-chid  shepherd  of  Slavonia. 
Igali  gruffly  bids  the  man  "  begone,"  and  aims  a  careless  kick  at  the 
proffered  memorandum  ;  but  seeing  no  harm  in  the  request,  and, 
moreover,  being  perhaps  by  nature  a  trifle  more  considerate  of 
others,  I  comply.  As  he  reads  aloud,  "  United  States,  America,"  to 
his  comrades,  they  one  and  all  lift  their  hats  quite  reverently  and 
place  their  brown  hands  over  their  hearts,  for  I  suppose  they 
recognize  in  my  ready  compliance  with  the  simple  request,  in  com- 
parison with  Igali's  rude  rebuff — which,  by  the  way,  no  doubt 
comes  natural  enough — the  difference  between  the  land  of  the 
prince  and  peasant,  and  the  land  where  "liberty,  equality,  and 
fraternity  "  is  not  a  meaningless  motto — a  land  which  I  find  every 
down-trodden  peasant  of  Europe  has  heard  of,  and  looks  upward 
to. 

Soon  after  this  incident  we  are  passing  a  prune-orchard,  when, 
as  though  for  our  especial  benefit,  a  couple  of  peasants  working 
there  begin  singing  aloud,  and  with  evident  enthusiasm,  some 
national  melody,  and  as  they  observe  not  our  presence,  at  my  sug- 
gestion we  crouch  behind  a  convenient  clump  of  bushes  and  for 
several  minutes  are  favored  with  as  fine  a  duet  as  I  have  heard  for 
many  a  day ;  but  the  situation  becomes  too  ridiculous  for  Igali, 


158  FllOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEKAN. 

and  it  finally  sends  him  into  a  roar  of  laughter  that  causes  the  per- 
formance to  terminate  abruptly,  and,  rising  into  full  view,  we 
doubtless  repay  the  singers  by  letting  them  see  us  mount  and  ride 
into  their  native  village,  but  a  few  hundred  yards  distant. 

We  are  to-day  passing  through  villages  where  a  bicycle  has 
never  been  seen — this  being  outside  the  area  of  Igali's  peregrina- 
tions— and  the  whole  population  invariably  turns  out  en  masse, 
clerks,  proprietors,  and  customers  in  the  shops  unceremoniously 
dropping  everything  and  running  to  the  streets  ;  there  is  verily  a 
hurrying  to  and  fro  of  all  the  citizens  ;  husbands  hastening  fi'om 
magazine  to  dv^elling  to  inform  their  wives  and  families,  mothers 
running  to  call  their  children,  children  their  parents,  and  every- 
body scampering  to  call  the  attention  of  their  sisters,  cousins,  and 
aunts,  ere  we  are  vanished  in  the  distance,  and  it  be  everlastingly 
too  late. 

We  have  been  worrying  along  at  some  sort  of  pace,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  the  usual  noontide  halt,  since  six  o'clock  this  morning, 
and  the  busy  mosquito  is  making  life  interesting  for  belated  way- 
farers, when  we  ride  into  Sarengrad  and  put  up  at  the  only  gasl- 
haus  in  the  village.  Our  bedroom  is  situated  on  the  ground  floor, 
the  only  floor  in  fact  the  gasthaus  boasts,  and  we  are  in  a  fair  way 
of  either  being  lulled  to  sleep  or  kept  awake,  as  the  case  may  be, 
by  a  howling  chorus  of  wine-bibbers  in  the  public  room  adjoining  ; 
but  here,  again,  Igali  shows  up  to  good  advantage  by  peremptorily 
ordering  the  singers  to  stop,  and  stop  instanter.  The  amiably  dis- 
posed peasants,  notwithstanding  the  wine  they  have  been  drinking, 
cease  their  singing  and  become  silent  and  circumspect,  in  defer- 
ence to  the  wishes  of  the  two  strangers  with  the  wonderful  ma- 
chines. We  now  make  a  practice  of  taking  our  bicycles  into  our 
bedroom  with  us  at  night,  otherwise  every  right  hand  in  the  whole 
village  would  busy  itself  pinching  the  "gum-elastic"  tires  and 
pedal-rubbers,  twirling  the  pedals,  feeling  spokes,  backbone,  and 
forks,  and  critically  examining  and  commenting  upon  every  visible 
portion  of  the  mechanism  ;  and  who  knows  but  that  the  latent  cu- 
pidity of  some  easy-conscienced  villager  might  be  aroused  at  the 
unusual  sight  of  so  much  "  silver  "  standing  around  loose  (the  na- 
tives hereabout  don't  even  ask  whether  the  nickelled  parts  of  the 
bicycle  are  silver  or  not ;  they  take  it  for  granted  to  be  so),  and 
surreptitiously  attempt  to  chisel  off  enough  to  purchase  an  em- 
broidered coat  for  Sundays?     From   what  I  can  understand   of 


TIIUOUGH   SLAVONIA   AND   SEKVIA.  159 

their  comments  among  tliemselves,  it  is  perfectly  consistent  with 
their  ideas  of  the  average  Englishman  that  he  should  bestride  a 
bicycle  of  soUd  silver,  and  if  their  vocabulary  embraced  no  word 
corresponding  to  our  "millionnaire,''  and  they  desired  to  use  one, 
they  would  probably  pick  upon  the  word  "  Englander  "  as  the  most 
appropriate.  While  we  are  making  our  toilets  in  the  morning- 
eager  faces  are  peeriug  inquisitively  through  the  bedroom  windows  ; 
a  murmur  of  voices,  criticizing  us  and  our  strange  vehicles,  greets 
our  waking  moments,  and  our  privacy  is  often  invaded,  in  spite  of 
IgaU's  inconsiderate  treatment  of  them  whenever  they  happen  to 
cross  his  path. 

Many  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  part  of  Slavonia  are  Croatians 
— people  who  are  noted  for  their  fondness  of  finery ;  and,  as  on 
this  sunny  Sunday  morning  we  wheel  through  their  villages,  the 
crowds  of  peasantry  who  gather  about  us  in  all  the  bravery  of  their 
best  clothes  present,  indeed,  an  appearance  gay  and  picturesque  be- 
yond, anything  hitherto  encountered.  The  garments  of  the  men 
are  covered  with  braid-work  and  silk  embroidery  wherever  such 
ornamentation  is  thought  to  be  an  embellishment,  and,  to  the  Cro- 
atian mind,  that  means  pretty  much  everywhere  ;  and  the  girls  and 
women  are  arrayed  in  the  gayest  of  colors  ;  those  displaying  the 
brightest  hues  and  the  greatest  contrasts  seem  to  go  tripping  along 
conscious  of  being  irresistible.  Many  of  the  Croatian  peasants 
are  fine,  strapping  fellows,  and  very  handsome  women  are  observed 
in  the  villages — women  with  great,  dreamy  eyes,  and  faces  with  an 
expression  of  languor  that  bespeaks  their  owners  to  be  gentleness 
personified.  Igali  shows  evidence  of  more  susceptibility  to  female 
charms  than  I  should  naturally  have  given  him  credit  for,  and 
shows  a  decided  incHnation  to  linger  in  these  beauty-blessed  villages 
longer  than  is  necessary,  and  as  one  dark-eyed  damsel  after  another 
gathers  around  us,  I  usually  take  the  initiative  in  mounting  and 
clearing  out. 

Were  a  man  to  go  suddenly  flapping  his  way  through  the 
streets  of  London  on  the  long-anticipated  flying-machine,  the  aver- 
age Cockney  would  scarce  betray  the  unfeigned  astonishment  that 
is  depicted  on  the  countenances  of  these  Croatian  villagers  as  we 
ride  into  their  midst  and  dismount. 

This  afternoon  my  bicycle  causes  the  first  runaway  since  the 
trifling  affair  at  Lembach,  Austria.  A  brown-faced  peasant  woman 
and  a  little  girl,  driving  a  small,  shaggy  pony  harnessed  to  a  bas- 


160  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEIIEEATT. 

ket-work,  four-wheeled  vehicle,  are  approaching ;  their  humble- 
looking  steed  betrays  no  evidence  of  restiveness  until  just  as  I  am 
turning  out  to  pass  him,  when,  without  warning,  he  gives  a  swift, 
sudden  bound  to  the  right,  nearly  upsetting  the  vehicle,  and  with- 
out more  ado  bolts  down  a  considerable  embankment  and  goes 
helter-skelter  across  a  field  of  standing  grain. 

The  old  lady  pluckily  hangs  on  to  the  reins,  and  finally  succeeds 
in  bringing  the  runaway  around  into  the  road  again  without  damag- 
ing anything  save  the  corn.  It  might  have  ended  much  less  satis- 
factorily, however,  and  the  iacident  illustrates  one  possible  source 
of  trouble  to  a  'cycler  travelling  alone  through  countries  where  the 
people  neither  understand,  nor  can  be  expected  to  understand,  a 
wheelman's  position  ;  the  situation  would,  of  course,  be  aggravated 
in  a  country  vUlage  where,  not  speaking  the  language,  one  could 
not  make  himself  understood  in  his  own  defence.  These  people 
here,  if  not  wise  as  serpents,  are  at  least  harmless  as  doves ;  but,  in 
case  of  the  bicycle  frightening  a  team  and  causing  a  runaway,  with 
the  unpleasant  sequel  of  broken  Umbs,  or  injured  horse,  they  would 
scarce  know  what  to  do  in  the  premises,  since  they  would  have  no 
precedent  to  govern  them,  and,  in  the  absence  of  any  intelligent 
guidance,  might  conclude  to  wreak  summary  vengeance  on  the  bi- 
cycle. In  such  a  case,  would  a  wheelman  be  justified  in  using  his 
revolver  to  defend  his  bicycle  ? 

Such  is  the  reverie  into  which  I  fall  while  reclining  beneath  a 
spreading  mulberry-tree  waiting  for  Igali  to  catch  up  ;  for  he  has 
promised  that  I  shall  see  the  Slavonian  national  dance  sometime 
to-day,  and  a  village  is  now  visible  in  the  distance.  At  the  Danube- 
side  vUlage  of  Hamenitz  an  hour's  halt  is  decided  upon  to  give  me 
the  promised  opportunity  of  witnessing  the  dance  in  its  native  land. 
It  is  a  novel  and  interesting  sight.  A  round  hundred  young  gal- 
lants and  maidens  are  rigged  out  in  finery  such  as  tio  other  people 
save  the  Croatian  and  Slavonian  peasants  ever  wear — the  young 
men  braided  and  embroidered,  and  the  damsels  having  their  hair 
entwined  with  a  profusion  of  natural  flowers  in  addition  to  their 
costumes  of  all  possible  hues.  Forming  themselves  into  a  large 
ring,  distributed  so  that  the  sexes  alternate,  the  young  men  extend 
and  join  their  hands  in  front  of  the  maidens,  and  the  latter  join 
hands  behind  their  partners  ;  the  steel-strung  tamboricas  strike  up 
a  lively  twanging  air,  to  which  the  circle  of  dancers  endeavor  to 
shuffle  time  with  their  feet,  while  at  the  same  time  moving  around 


THROUGH   SLAVONIA  AND   SERVIA.  161 

in  a  circle.  Livelier  and  faster  twang  the  tamborieas,  and  more 
and  more  animated  becomes  the  scene  as  the  dancing,  shuffling 
ring  endeavors  to  keep  pace  with  it.  As  the  fun  progi-esses  into 
the  fast  and  furious  stages  the  youths'  hats  have  a  knack  of  getting 
into  a  jaunty  position  on  the  side  of  their  heads,  and  the  wearers' 
faces  assume  a  reckless,  flushed  appearance,  like  men  half  intoxi- 
cated, while  the  maidens'  bright  eyes  and  beaming  faces  betoken 
unutterable  happiness  ;  finally  the  music  and  the  shuffling  of  feet 
terminate  with  a  rapid  flourish,  everybody  kisses  everybody — save, 
of  course,  mere  luckless  onlookers  like  Igali  and  myself — and  the 
Slavonian  national  dance  is  ended. 

To-night  we  reach  the  strongly  fortified  town  of  Peterwardein, 
opposite  which,  just  across  a  pontoon  bridge  spanning  the  Dan- 
ube, is  the  larger  city  of  Neusatz.  At  Hamenitz  we  met  Professor 
Zaubaur,  the  editor  of  the  Uj  Videk,  who  came  down  the  Danube 
ahead  of  us  by  steamboat ;  and  now,  after  housing  our  machines 
at  our  gasthaus  in  Peterwardein,  he  pilots  us  across  the  pontoon 
bridge  in  the  twilight,  and  into  one  of  those  wine-gardens  so  uni- 
versal in  this  part  of  the  world.  Here  at  Neusatz  I  listen  to  the 
genuine  Hungarian  gypsy  miisic  for  the  last  time  on  the  Euro- 
pean tour  ere  bidding  the  territory  of  Hungary  adieu,  for  Neusatz 
is  on  the  Hungarian  side  of  the  Danube.  The  professor  has  evi- 
dently let  no  grass  grow  beneath  his  feet  since  leaving  us  scarcely 
an  hour  ago  at  Hamenitz,  for  he  has,  in  the  mean  time,  ferreted  out 
.the  only  English-speaking  person  at  present  in  town,  the  good 
Prau  Sclirieber,  an  Austrian  lady,  formerly  of  Vienna,  but  now  at 
Neusatz  with  her  husband,  a  well-known  advocate.  This  lady 
talks  English  quite  fluently.  Though  not  yet  twenty-five  she  is 
very,  very  wise,  and  among  other  things  she  informs  her  admiring- 
friends  gathered  round  about  us,  listening  to  the — to  them — unin- 
telligible flow  of  a  foreign  language,  that  Englishmen  are  "  very  grave 
beings,"  a  piece  of  information  that  wrings  from  Igali  a  really 
sympathetic  response — nothing  less  than  the  startling  announce- 
ment that  he  hasn't  seen  me  smile  since  we  left  Budapest  to- 
gether, a  week  ago  !  "  Having  seen  the  Slavonian,  I  ought  by  all 
means  to  see  the  Hungarian,  national  dance,"  Frau  Schrieber  says  ; 
adding,  "  It  is  a  nice  dance  for  Englishmen  to  look  at,  though  it  is 
so  very  gay  that  English  ladies  would  neither  dance  it  nor  look  at 
it  being  danced."  Ere  parting  company  with  this  entertaining  lady 
she  agrees  that,  if  I  will  but  remain  in  Hungary  permanently,  she 
11 


162  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

knows  of  a  very  handsome  fraulein  of  sixteen  summers,  -who,  hav- 
ing heard  of  my  "wonderful  journey,"  is  already  predisposed  in  my 
favor,  and  with  a  little  friendly  tact  and  management  on  her — Frau 
Schrieber's — part  would  no  doubt  be  wilUng  to  waive  the  formalities 
of  a  long  courtship,  and  yield  up  hand  and  heart  at  my  request ! 
I  can  scarcely  think  of  breaking  in  twain  my  trip  around  the  world 
even  for  so  tempting  a  prospect,  and  I  recommend  the  fair  Hun- 
garian to  Igali ;  but  "  the  fraulein  has  never  heard  of  Herr  Igali, 
and  he  will  not  do." 

"Will  the  fraulein  be  willing  to  wait  until  my  journey  around 
the  world  is  completed  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  she  vill  vait  mit  much  pleezure  ;  I  viU  zee  dat  she  vait ; 
und  I  know  you  vill  return,  for  an  Englishman  alvays  forgets  his 
promeezes.''  Henceforth,  when  Igali  and  myself  enter  upon  a 
programme  of  whistling,  "  Yankee  Doodle  "  is  supplanted  by  "  The 
girl  I  left  behind  me,"  much  to  his  annoyance,  since,  not  under- 
standing the  sentiment  responsible  for  the  change,  he  thinks  "  Yan- 
kee Doodle  "  a  far  better  tune.  So  much  attached,  in  fact,  has 
Igali  become  to  the  American  national  air,  that  he  informs  the  pro- 
fessor and  editor  of  Uj  Videk  of  the  circumstance  of  the  band  play- 
ing it  at  Szekszard.  As,  after  supper,  several  of  us  promenade 
the  streets  of  Neusatz,  the  professor  links  his  arm  in  mine,  and, 
taking  the  cue  from  Igali,  begs  me  to  favor  him  by  whistling  it.  I 
try  my  best  to  palm  this  patriotic  duty  off  on  Igali,  by  paying  flatter- 
ing compliments  to  his  style  of  whistling  ;  but,  after  all,  the  duty  falls, 
on  me,  and  I  whistle  the  tune  softly,  yet  merrily,  as  we  walk  along, 
the  professor,  spectacled  and  wise-looking,  meanwhile  exchanging 
numerous  nods  of  recognition  with  his  fellow-Neusatzers  we  meet. 

The  provost-judge  of  Neusatz  shares  the  honors  with  Frau 
Schrieber  of  knowing  more  or  less  English  ;  but  this  evening  the 
judge  is  out  of  town.  The  enterprising  professor  lies  in  wait  for 
him,  however,  and  at  5.30  on  Monday  morning,  while  we  are  dress- 
ing, an  invasion  of  our  bed-chamber  is  made  by  the  professor,  the 
jolly-looking  and  portly  provost-judge,  a  Slavonian  lieutenant  of 
artillery,  and  a  druggist  friend  of  the  others.  The  provost-judge 
and  the  lieutenant  actually  own  bicycles  and  ride  them,  the  only 
representatives  of  the  wheel  in  Neusatz  and  Peterwardein,  and  the 
judge  is  "  very  angry" — as  he  expresses  it — that  Monday  is  court 
day,  and  to-day  an  unusually  busy  one,  for  he  would  be  most  happy 
to  wheel  with  us  to  Belgrade. 


inROUGII   SLAVONIA   AND   SERVIA.  163 

The  lieutenant  fetches  his  wheel  and  accompanies  us  to  the  next 
village.  Peterwardein  is  a  strongly  fortified  place,  and,  as  a  po- 
sition commanding  the  Danube  so  completely,  is  furnished  with 
thirty  guns  of  large  calibre,  a  battery  certainly  not  to  be  despised 
when  posted  on  a  position  so  commanding  as  the  hill  on  which 
Peterwardein  fortress  is  built.  As  the  editor  and  others  at  Eszek, 
so  here  the  professor,  the  judge,  and  the  druggist  unite  in  a  friend- 
1}'  protest  against  my  attempt  to  wheel  through  Asia,  and  more  es- 
pecially through  China,  "  for  everybody  knows  it  is  quite  danger- 
ous,'' they  say.  These  people  cannot  possibly  understand  why  it  is 
that  an  Englishman  or  American,  knowing  of  danger  beforehand, 
will  stiU  venture  ahead  ;  and  when,  in  reply  to  their  questions,  I 
modestly  announce  my  intention  of  going  ahead,  notwithstanding- 
possible  danger  and  probable  difficulties,  they  each,  in  turn,  shake 
my  hand  as  though  reluctantly  resigning  me  to  a  reckless  deter- 
mination, and  the  judge,  acting  as  spokesman,  and  echoing  and  in- 
terpreting the  sentiments  of  his  companions,  exclaims,  "  England 
and  America  forever !  it  is  ze  grandest  peeples  on  ze  world !  " 
The  lieutenant,  when  questioned  on  the  subject  by  the  judge  and 
the  professor,  simply  shrugs  his  shoulders  and  says  nothing,  as  be- 
comes a  man  whose  first  duty  is  to  cultivate  a  supreme  contempt 
for  danger  in  all  its  forms. 

They  all  accompany  us  outside  the  city  gates,  when,  after 
mutual  farewells  and  assurances  of  good-will,  we  mount  and  wheel 
away  down  the  Danube,  the  lieutenant's  big  mastiff  trotting  soberly 
alongside  his  master,  while  Igali,  sometimes  in  and  sometimes  out 
of  sight  behind,  brings  up  the  rear.  After  the  lieutenant  leaves 
us  we  have  to  trundle  our  weary  way  up  the  steep  gradients  of  the 
Fruskagora  Mountains  for  a  number  of  kilometres.  For  Igali  it 
is  quite  an  adventurous  morning.  Ere  we  had  left  the  shadows 
of  Peterwardein  fortress  he  upset  while  wheeling  beneath  some 
overhanging  mulberry-boughs  that  threatened  destruction  to  his 
jockey-cap  ;  soon  after  parting  company  with  the  lieutenant  he  gets 
into  an  altercation  with  a  gang  of  gypsies  about  being  the  cause  of 
their  horses  breaking  loose  from  their  picket-ropes  and  stampeding, 
and  then  making  uncivil  comments  upon  the  circumstance  ;  an 
hour  after  this  he  overturns  again  and  breaks  a  pedal,  and  when  we 
dismount  at  Indjia,  for  our  noontide  halt,  he  discovers  that  his 
saddle-spring  has  snapped  in  the  middle.  As  he  ruefuUy  surveys 
the  breakage  caused  by  the  roughness  of  the  Fruskagora  roads,  and 


164  FllOM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

sends  out  to  scour  the  village  for  a  mechanic  capable  of  undertak- 
ing the  repairs,  he  eyes  my  Columbia  wistfully,  and  asks  me  for 
the  address  where  one  like  it  can  be  obtained.  The  blacksmith  is 
not  prepared  to  mend  the  spring,  although  he  makes  a  good  job 
of  the  pedal,  and  it  takes  a  carpenter  and  his  assistant  from  1.30 
to  4.30  P.M.  to  manufacture  a  grooved  piece  of  wood  to  fit  between 
the  spring  and  backbone  so  that  he  can  ride  with  me  to  Belgrade. 
It  would  have  been  a  fifteen-minute  task  for  a  Yankee  carpenter. 

We  have  been  traversing  a  spur  of  the  Pruskagora  Mountains  all 
the  morning,  and  our  progress  has  been  slow.  The  roads  through 
here  are  mainly  of  the  natural  soil,  and  correspondingly  bad  ;  but 
the  glorious  views  of  the  Danube,  with  its  alternating  wealth  of 
green  woods  and  greener  cultivated  areas,  fully  recompense  for  the 
extra  toil.  Prune-orchards,  the  trees  weighed  down  with  fruit  yet 
green,  clothe  the  hiU-sides  with  their  luxuriance  ;  indeed,  the  whole 
broad,  rich  valley  of  the  Danube  seems  nodding  and  smiling  in  the 
consciousness  of  overflowing  plenty ;  for  days  we  have  traversed 
roads  leading  through  vineyards  and  orchards,  and  broad  areas 
with  promising-looking  grain-crops. 

It  is  but  thirty  kilometres  from  Indjia  to  Semlin,  on  the  river- 
bank  opposite  Belgrade,  and  since  leaving  the  Pruskagora  Moun- 
tains the  country  has  been  a  level  plain,  and  the  roads  fairly  smooth. 
But  Igali  has  naturally  become  doubly  cautious  since  his  succession 
of  misadventures  this  morning,  and  as,  while  waiting  for  him  to 
overtake  me,  I  recline  beneath  the  mulberry-trees  near  the  vUlage 
of  Batainitz  and  survey  the  blue  mountains  of  Servia  looming  up 
to  the  southward  through  the  evening  haze,  he  rides  up  and  pro- 
poses Batainitz  as  our  halting-place  for  the  night,  adding  persua- 
sively, "  There  will  be  no  ferry-boat  across  to  Belgrade  to-night,  and 
we  can  easily  catch  the  first  boat  in  the  morning."  I  reluctantly 
agree,  though  advocating  going  on  to  Semlin  this  evening. 

While  our  supper  is  being  prepared  we  are  taken  in  hand  by  the 
leading  merchant  of  the  village  and  "  turned  loose  "  in  an  orchard 
of  small  fruits  and  early  pears,  and  from  thence  conducted  to  a 
large  gypsy  encampment  in  the  outskirts  of  the  villan-e,  where  in 
acknowledgment  of  the  honor  of  our  visit — and  a  few  kreuzers  by 
way  of  supplement — the  "flower  of  the  camp,"  a  bloomin^  damsel 
about  the  shade  of  a  total  eclipse,  kisses  the  backs  of  our  hands 
and  the  men  play  a  strumming  monotone  with  sticks  and  an  in- 
verted wooden  trough,  while  the  women  dance  in  a  most  Uvely  and 


THROUGH   SLAVONIA   AND   SERVIA.  165 

not  ungraceful  manner.  These  gj'psy  bands  are  a  happy  crowd  of 
vagabonds,  looking  as  though  they  had  never  a  single  care  in  all 
the  world ;  the  men  wear  long,  flowing  hair,  and  to  the  ordinary 
costume  of  the  peasant  is  added  many  a  gewgaw,  worn  with  a  care- 
less, jaunty  grace  that  fails  not  to  carry  with  it  a  certain  charm  in 
spite  of  unkempt  locks  and  dirty  faces.  The  women  wear  a  mini- 
mum of  clothes  and  a  profusion  of  beads  and  trinkets,  and  the 
children  go  stark  naked  or  partly  dressed. 

Unmistakable  evidence  that  one  is  approaching  the  Orient  ap- 
pears in  the  semi-Oriental  costumes  qI  the  peasantry  and  roving 
gypsy  bands,  as  we  gradually  near  the  Servian  capital.  An  Oriental 
costume  in  Eszek  is  sufficiently  exceptional  to  be  a  novelty,  and  so 
it  is  until  one  gets  south  of  Peterwardein,  when  the  national  cos- 
tumes of  Slavonia  and  Croatia  are  gradually  merged  into  the  tas- 
selled  fez,  the  many-folded  waistband,  and  the  loose,  flowing  pan- 
taloons of  Eastern  lands.  Here  at  Batainitz  the  feet  are  encased  in 
rude  raw-hide  moccasins,  bound  on  with  leathern  thongs,  and  the 
ankle  and  calf  are  bandaged  with  many  folds  of  heavy  red  material, 
also  similarly  bound.  The  scene  around  our  gasthans,  after  our 
arrival,  resembles  a  populai'  meeting  ;  for,  although  a  few  of  the 
villagers  have  been  to  Belgrade  and  seen  a  bicycle,  it  is  only  within 
the  last  sis  months  that  Belgrade  itself  has  boasted  one,  and  the 
great  majority  of  the  Batainitz  people  have  simply  heard  enough 
about  them  to  whet  their  curiosity  for  a  closer  acquaintance.  More- 
over, from  the  interest  taken  in  my  tour  at  Belgrade  on  account  of 
the  bicycle's  recent  introduction  in  that  capital,  these  villagers,  but 
a  dozen  kilometres  away,  haVe  heard  more  of  my  journey  than 
people  in  villages  fai-ther  north,  and  their  curiosity  is  roused  in 
proportion. 

We  are  astir  by  five  o'clock  next  morning  ;  but  the  same  curious 
crowd  is  making  the  stone  corridors  of  the  rambling  old  gasthaus  im- 
passable, and  fiUing  the  space  in  front,  gazing  curiously  at  us,  and 
commenting  on  our  appearance  whenever  we' happen  to  become 
visible,  while  waiting  with  commendable  patience  to  obtain  a  glimpse 
of  our  wonderful  machines.  They  are  a  motley,  and  withal  a  ragged 
assembly;  old  women  devoutly  cross  themselves  as,  after  a  slight 
repast  of  bread  and  milk,  we  sally  forth  with  our  wheels,  prepai-ed 
to  start ;  and  the  spontaneous  murmur  of  admiration  which  breaks 
forth  as  we  mount  becomes  louder  and  more  pronounced  as  I  turn 
in  the  saddle  Eind  doff  my  helmet  in  deference  to  the  homage  paid 


166  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO    TEHERAN. 

US  by  hearts  which  are  none  the  less  warm  because  hidden  beneath 
the  rags  of  honest  poverty  and  semi-civilization.  It  tates  but  little 
to  win  the  hearts  of  these  rude,  unsophisticated  people.  A  two 
hours'  ride  from  Batainitz,  over  level  and  reasonably  smooth  roads, 
brings  us  into  Semlin,  quite  an  important  Slavonian  city  on  the 
Danube,  nearly  opposite  Belgrade,  which  is  on  the  same  side,  but 
separated  from  it  by  a  large  tributary  called  the  Save.  Ferry-boats 
ply  regularly  between  the  two  cities,  and,  after  an  hour  spent  in 
hunting  up  different  officials  to  gain  permission  for  Igali  to  cross 
over  into  Servian  territory  without  having  a  regular  traveller's  pass- 
port, we  escape  from  the  madding  crowds  of  SemHnites  by  board- 
ing the  ferry-boat,  and  ten  minutes  later  are  exchanging  signals 
with  three  Servian  wheelmen,  who  have  come  down  to  the  landing 
in  full  uniform  to  meet  and  welcome  us  to  Belgrade. 

Many  readers  will  doubtless  be  as  surprised  as  I  was  to  learn 
that  at  Belgrade,  the  capital  of  the  little  Kingdom  of  Servia,  inde- 
pendent only  since  the  Treaty  of  Berlin,  a  bicycle  club  was  organ- 
ized in  January,  1885,  and  that  now,  in  June  of  the  same  year,  they 
have  a  promising  club  of  thirty  members,  twelve  of  whom  are 
riders  owning  their  own  wheels.  Their  club  is  named,  in  French, 
La  Societe  Velocipedique  Serbe  ;  in  the  Servian  language  it  is  un- 
pronounceable to  an  Anglo-Saxon,  and  printable  only  with  Slav 
type.  The  president,  Milorade  M.  Nicolitch  Terzibachitch,  is  the 
Cyclists'  Touring  Club  Consul  for  Servia,  and  is  the  southeastern 
picket  of  that  organization,  their  club  being  the  extreme  'cycle  out- 
post in  this  direction.  Our  approach  has  been  announced  before- 
hand, and  the  club  has  thoughtfully  "  seen  "  the  Servian  authorities, 
and  so  far  smoothed  the  way  for  our  entrance  into  their  country  that 
the  officials  do  not  even  make  a  pretence  of  examining  my  passport 
or  packages — an  almost  unprecedented  occiirrence,  I  should  say, 
since  they  are  more  particular  about  passports  here  than  perhaps 
in  any  other  European  country,  save  Eussia  and  Turkey. 

Here  at  Belgrade  I  am  to  part  company  with  Igali,  who,  by  the 
way,  has  applied  for,  and  just  received,  his  certificate  of  appoint- 
ment to  the  Cyclists'  Touring  Club  Consulship  of  Puna  Szekesii 
and  Mohacs,  an  honor  of  which  he  feels  quite  proud.  True,  there 
is  no  other  'cycler  in  his  whole  district,  and  hardly  likely  to  be  for 
some  time  to  come  ;  but  I  can  heartily  recommend  him  to  any 
wandering  wheelman  happening  down  the  Danube  Valley  on  a 
tour  ;  he  knows  the  best  wine-cellars  in  all  the  country  round,  and 


TIIKOXJGII   SLAVONIA   AND   SERVIA.  167 

besides  being  an  agreeable  and  accommodating  road  companion, 
wiU  prove  a  salutary  check  upon  the  headlong  career  of  anyone 
disposed  to  over-exertion.  I  am  not  yet  to  be  abandoned  entirely 
to  my  own  resources,  however  ;  these  hospitable  Servian  wheel- 
men couldn't  think  of  such  a  thing.  I  am  to  remain  over  as  their 
guest  till  to-morrow  afternoon,  when  Mr.  Douchan  Popovitz,  the 
best  rider  in  Belgrade,  is  delegated  to  escort  me  through  Servia 
to  the  Bulgarian  frontier.  When  I  get  there  I  shall  not  be  much 
astonished  to  see  a  Bulgarian  wheelman  offer  to  escort  me  to 
Roumelia,  and  so  on  clear  to  Constantinople  ;  for  I  certainly  never 
expected  to  find  so  jolly  and  enthusiastic  a  company  of  'cyclers  in 
this  corner  of  the  world. 

The  good  fellowship  and  hospitality  of  this  Servian  club  know 
no  bounds  ;  Igali  and  I  are  banqueted  and  di'iven  about  in  carriages 
all  day. 

Belgrade  is  a  strongly  fortified  city,  occupying  a  commanding 
hill  overlooking  the  Danube  ;  it  is  a  rare  old  town,  battle-scarred 
and  rugged ;  having  been  a  frontier  position  of  importance  in  a 
country  that  has  been  debatable  ground  between  Turk  and  Christian 
for  centuries,  it  has  been  a  coveted  prize  to  be  won  and  lost  on  the 
diplomatic  chess-board,  or,  worse  still,  the  foot-ball  of  contending 
armies  and  wranghng  monarchs.  Long  before  the  Ottoman  Turks 
first  appeared,  like  a  small  dark  cloud,  no  bigger  than  a  man's 
hand,  upon  the  southeastern  horizon  of  Europe,  to  extend  and 
overwhelm  the  budding  flower  of  Christianity  and  civilization  in 
these  fairest  portions  of  the  continent,  Belgrade  was  an  important 
Eoman  fortress,  and  to-day  its  national  museum  and  antiquarian 
stores  are  particularly  rich  in  the  treasure-trove  of  Byzantine  an- 
tiquities, unearthed  from  time  to  time  in  the  fortress  itself  and  the 
region  round  about  that  came  under  its  protection.  So  plentiful, 
indeed,  are  old  coins  and  relics  of  aU  sorts  at  Belgrade,  that,  as  I 
am  standing  looking  at  the  collection  in  the  window  of  an  antiquary 
shop,  the  proprietor  steps  out  and  presents  me  a  small  handful  of 
copper  coins  of  Byzantium  as  a  sort  of  bait  that  might  perchance 
tempt  one  to  enter  and  make  a  closer  inspection  of  his  stock. 

By  the  famous  Treaty  of  Berlin  the  Servians  gained  their  com- 
plete independence,  and  their  country,  from  a  principality,  paying 
tribute  to  the  Sultan,  changed  to  an  independent  kingdom  with  a 
Servian  on  the  throne,  owing  allegiance  to  nobody,  and  the  people 
have  not  yet  ceased  to  show,  in  a  thousand  little  ways,  their  thorough 


168  FKOM   SAN   FRANCISCO    TO   TEHERAN. 

appreciation  of  the  change  ;  besides  filling  the  picture-galleries  of 
their  museum  with  portraits  of  Servian  heroes,  battle-flags,  and 
other  gentle  reminders  of  their  past  history,  they  have,  among 
other  practical  methods  of  manifesting  how  they  feel  about  the 
departure  of  the  dominating  crescent  from  among  them,  turned 
the  leading  Turkish  mosque  into  a  gas-house.  One  of  the  most 
interesting  relics  in  the  Servian  capital  is  an  old  Koman  well, 
dug  from  the  brow  of  the  fortress  hill  to  below  the  level  of  the 
Danube,  for  furnishing  water  to  the  city  when  cut  off  from  the  liver 
by  a  besieging  army.  It  is  an  enormous  affair,  a  tubular  brick 
wall  about  forty  feet  in  circumference  and  two  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  deep,  outside  of  which  a  stone  stairway,  winding  round  and 
round  the  shaft,  leads  from  top  to  bottom.  Openings  through  the 
wall,  six  feet  high  and  three  wide,  occur  at  regular  intervals  all  the 
way  down,  and,  as  we  follow  our  ragged  guide  down,  down  into 
the  damj)  and  darkness  by  the  feeble  light  of  a  tallow  candle  in  a 
broken  lantern,  I  cannot  help  thinking  that  these  o'erhandy  open- 
ings leading  into  the  dark,  watery  depths  have,  in  the  tragic  his- 
tory of  Belgrade,  doubtless  been  responsible  for  the  mysterious 
disappearance  of  m'ore  than  one  objectionable  person.  It  is  not 
without  certain  involuntary  misgivings  that  I  take  the  lantern  from 
the  guide — whose  general  appearance  is,  by  the  way,  hardly  calcu- 
lated to  be  reassuring — and,  standing  in  one  of  the  openings,  peer 
<lown  into  the  darksome  depths,  with  him  hanging  on  to  my  coat 
as  an  act  of  precaution. 

The  view  from  the  ramparts  of  Belgrade  fortress  is  a  magnifi- 
cent panorama,  extending  over  the  broad  valley  of  the  Danube — 
which  here  winds  about  as  though  trying  to  bestow  its  favors  with 
impartiality  upon  Hungary,  Servia,  and  Slavonia — and  of  the  Save. 
The  Servian  soldiers  are  camped  in  small  tents  in  various  parts  of 
the  fortress  grounds  and  its  environments,  or  loUing  under  the  shade 
of  a  few  scantily  verdured  trees,  for  the  sun  is  to-day  broiling  hot. 
With  a  population  not  exceeding  one  and  a  half  million,  I  am  told 
that  Servia  supports  a  standing  army  of  a  hundred  thousand  men  ; 
and,  when  required,  every  man  in  Servia  becomes  a  soldier.  As  one 
lands  from  the  ferry-boat  and  looks  about  him  he  needs  no  inter- 
preter to  inform  him  that  he  has  left  the  Occident  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Save,  and  to  the  observant  stranger  the  streets  of  Bel- 
grade furnish  many  a  novel  and  interesting  sight  in  the  way  of 
fanciful  costumes  and  phases  of  Oriental  life  here  encountered  for 


TIIKOUGII   SLAVONIA  AND   SEEVIA.  169 

the  first  time.     In  the  afternoon  we  visit  the  national  museum  of 
old  coins,  ai-ms,  and  Eoman  and  Servian  antiquities. 

A  banquet  in  a  wine-garden,  where  Servian  national  music  is 
dispensed  by  a  band  of  female  musicians,  is  given  us  in  the  evening 
by  the  club,  and  royal  quarters  are  assigned  us  for  the  night  at  the 
hospitable  mansion  of  Mi-.  Terzibachitch's  father,  who  is  the  mer- 
chant-prince of  Servia,  and  purveyor  to  the  court.  Wednesday 
morning  we  take  a  general  ramble  over  the  citj,  besides  visiting  the 
club's  head-quarters,  where  we  find  a  handsome  new  album  has  been 
purchased  for  receiving  our  autographs.  The  Belgrade  wheelmen 
have  names  painted  on  their  bicycles,  as  names  are  painted  on 
steamboats  or  yachts:  "Fairy,"  "Good  Luck,"  and  "Servian 
Queen,"  being  fair  specimens.  The  cyclers  here  are  sons  of  leading 
citizens  and  business  men  of  Belgrade,  and,  while  they  dress  and 
conduct  themselves  as  becomes  thorough  gentlemen,  one  fancies 
detecting  a  certain  wild  expression  of  the  eye,  as  though  their  civ- 
ilization were  scarcely  yet  established  ;  in  fact,  this  peculiar  expres- 
sion is  more  noticeable  at  Belgrade,  and  is  apparently  more  general 
here  than  at  any  other  place  I  visit  in  Europe.  I  apprehend  it  to 
be  a  peculiarity  that  has  become  hereditary  with  the  citizens,  from 
their  city  having  been  so  often  and  for  so  long  the  theatre  of  un- 
certain fate  and  distracting  political  disturbances.  It  is  the  half- 
startled  expression  of  people  with  the  ever-present  knowledge  of 
insecurity.  But  they  are  a  warm-hearted,  impulsive  set  of  fellows, 
and  when,  while  looking  through  the  museum,  we  happen  across 
Her  Britannic  Majesty's  representative  at  the  Servian  court,  who  is 
doing  the  same  thing,  one  of  them  unhesitatingly  approaches  that 
gentleman,  cap  in  hand,  and,  with  considerable  enthusiasm  of  man- 
ner, announces  that  they  have  with  them  a  countryman  of  his  who 
is  riding  around  the  world  on  a  bicycle.  This  cooler-blooded  and 
dignified  gentleman  is  not  near  so  demonstrative  in  his  acknowl- 
edgment as  they  doubtless  anticipated  he  would  be  ;  whereat  they 
appear  quite  puzzled  and  mystified. 

Three  carriages  with  cyclers  and  their  friends  accompany  us  a 
dozen  kilometres  out  to  a  wayside  viehana  (the  Oriental  name  here- 
abouts for  hotels,  wayside  inns,  etc.) ;  Douchan  Popovitz,  and  Hugo 
Tichy,  the  captain  of  the  club,  will  ride  forty-five  kilometres  with  me 
to  Semendria,  and  at  i  o'clock  we  mount  our  wheels  and  ride  away 
southward  into  Servia.  Arriving  at  the  mehana,  wine  is  brought, 
and  then  the  two  Servians  accompanying  me,  and  those  returning. 


170  FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHEEAN. 

kiss  each  other,  after  the  manner  and  custom  of  their  country  ;  then 
a  general  hand-shaking  and  well-wishes  all  around,  and  the  car- 
riages turn  toward  Belgrade,  while  we  wheelmen  alternately  ride 
aud  trundle  over  a  muddy- — for  it  has  rained  since  noon — and 
mountainous  road  till  7.30,  when  relatives  of  Douchan  Popovitz,  in 
the  village  of  Grotzka,  kindly  offer  us  the  hospitality  of  theii-  house 
till  morning,  which  we  hesitate  not  to  avail  ourselves  of.  When 
about  to  part  at  the  mehana,  the  immortal  IgaU  unwinds  from 
around  his  waist  that  long  blue  girdle,  the  arranging  and  rearrang- 
ing of  which  has  been  a  familiar  feature  of  the  last  week's  expe- 
riences, and  presents  it  to  me  for  a  souvenir  of  himself,  a  courtesy 
which  I  return  by  presenting  him  with  several  of  the  Byzantine 
coins  given  to  me  by  the  Belgrade  antiquary  as  before  mentioned. 

Beyond  Semendria,  where  the  captain  leaves  us  for  the  return 
journey,  we  leave  the  course  of  the  Danube,  which  I  have  been  fol- 
lowing in  a  general  way  for  over  two  weeks,  and  strike  due  south- 
ward up  the  smaller,  but  not  less  beautiful,  valley  of  the  Morava 
Eiver,  where  we  have  the  intense  satisfaction  of  finding  roads  that 
are  both  dry  and  level,  enabHng  us,  in  spite  of  the  broiling  heat,  to 
bowl  along  at  a  sixteen-kilometre  pace  to  the  village,  where  we 
halt  for  dinner  and  the  usual  three  hours  noontide  siesta.  Seeing 
me  jotting  down  my  notes  with  a  short  piece  of  lead-pencil,  the 
proprietor  of  the  mehana  at  Semendria,  where  we  take  a  parting 
glass  of  wine  with  the  captain,  and  who  admires  America  and  the 
Americans,  steps  in-doors  for  a  minute,  and  returns  with  a  telescopic 
pencil-case,  attached  to  a  silken  cord  of  the  Servian  national  colors, 
which  he  places  around  my  neck,  requesting  me  to  wear  it  around 
the  world,  and,  when  I  arrive  at  my  journey's  end,  sometimes  to 
think  of  Servia. 

With  Igali's  sky-blue  girdle  encompassing  my  waist,  and  the 
Servian  national  colors  fondly  encircling  my  neck,  I  begin  to  feel 
quite  a  heraldic  tremor  creeping  over  me,  and  actually  surprise  my- 
self casting  wistful  glances  at  the  huge  antiquated  horse  pistol 
stuck  in  yonder  bull-whacker's  ample  waistband  ;  moreover,  I  reaUy 
think  that  a  pair  of  these  Servian  moccasins  would  not  be  bad 
foot-gear  for  riding  the  bicycle !  All  up  the  Morava  Valley  the 
roads  continue  far  better  than  I  have  expected  to  find  in  Servia,  and 
we  wheel  merrily  along,  the  Eesara  Mountains  covered  with  dark 
pine  forests,  skirting  the  valley  on  the  right,  sometimes  rising  into 
peaks  of  quite  respectable   proportions.     The  sun   sinks  behind 


THROUGH   SLAVONIA   AND   SEEYIA.  171 

tlie  receding  hills,  it  grows  dusk,  and  finally  dark',  save  the  feeble 
light  vouchsafed  by  the  new  moon,  and  our  destination  still  lies  sev- 
eral kilometres  ahead.  But  at  about  nine  we  roll  safely  into  Jago- 
diaa,  well-satisfied  Avith  the  consciousness  of  having  covered  one 
hundred  and  forty-five  kilometres  to-day,  in  spite  of  delaying  our 
start  in  the  morning  until  eight  o'clock,  and  the  twenty  kilometres 
of  indifferent  road  between  Grotzka  and  Semendria.  There  has 
been  no  reclining  under  road-side  mulberry-trees  for  my  compan- 
ion to  catch  up  to-day,  however  ;  the  Servian  wheelman  is  altogether 
a  speedier  man  than  Igali,  and,  whether  the  road  is  rough  or 
smooth,  level  or  hilly,  he  is  found  close  behind  my  rear  wheel  ;  my 
own  shadow  follows  not  more  faithfully  than  does  the  "  best  rider 
in  Servia." 

We  start  for  Jagodina  at  5.30  next  morning,  finding  the  roads 
a  little  heavy  with  sand  in  places,  but  otherwise  all  that  a  wheelman 
could  wish.  Crossing  a  bridge  over  the  Morava  Eiver,  into  Tchu- 
pria,  we  are  required  not  only  to  foot  it  across,  but  to  pay  a  toll  for 
the  bicycles,  like  any  other  wheeled  vehicle.  At  Tchupria  it  seems  as 
though  the  whole  town  must  be  depopulated,  so  great  is  the  throng 
of  citizens  that  swarm  about  us.  Motley  and  picturesque  even  in 
their  rags,  one's  pen  utterly  fails  to  convey  a  correct  idea  of  their 
appearance ;  besides  Servians,  Bulgarians,  and  Turks,  and  the 
Greek  priests  who  never  fail  of  being  on  hand,  now  appear  Rou- 
manians, wearing  huge  sheep-skin  busbies,  with  the  long,  ragged 
edges  of  the  wool  dangling  about  eyes  and  ears,  or,  in  the  case  of 
a  more  "  dudish  "  person,  clipped  around  smooth  at  the  brim,  mak- 
in"-  the  head-gear  look  like  a  small,  round,  thatched  roof.  Urchins, 
whose  daily  duty  is  to  promenade  the  family  goat  around  the  streets, 
join  in  the  procession,  tugging  their  bearded  charges  after  them  ; 
and  a  score  of  dogs,  overjoyed  bej'ond  measure  at  the  general  com- 
motion, romp  about,  and  bark  their  joyous  ap^Droval  of  it  all.  To 
have  crowds  like  this  following  one  out  of  town  makes  a  sensitive 
person  feel  uncomfortably  like  being  chased  out  of  a  community 
for  borrowing  chickens  by  moonlight,  or  on  account  of  some  irregu- 
larity concerning  hotel  bills.  On  occasions  like  this  Orientals 
seemingly  have  not  the  slightest  sense  of  dignity  ;  portly,  well- 
dressed  citizens,  priests,  and  military  officers  press  forward  among 
the  crowds  of  peasants  and  unwashed  frequenters  of  the  streets, 
evidently  more  delighted  with  things  about  them  than  they  have 
been  for  many  a  day  before. 


172  FEOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERABT. 

At  Delegrad  we  wheel  through  the  battle-field  of  the  same  name, 
where,  in  1876,  Turks  and  Servians  were  arrayed  against  each  other. 
These  battle-scarred  hills  above  Delegrad  command  a  glorious  view 
of  the  lower  Morava  Valley,  which  is  hereabouts  most  beautiful, 
and  just  broad  enough  for  its  entire  beauty  to  be  comprehended. 
The  Servians  won  the  battle  of  Delegrad,  and  as  I  pause  to  admire 
the  glorious  prospect  to  the  southward  from  the  hills,  methinks 
their  general  showed  no  little  sagacity  in  opposing  the  invaders  at 
a  spot  where  the  Morava  Vale,  the  jewel  of  Servia,  was  spread  out 
like  a  panorama  below  his  position,  to  fan  with  its  loveliness  the 
patriotism  of  his  troops — they  could  not  do  otherwise  than  win,  with 
the  fairest  portion  of  their  well-beloved  country  spread  out  before 
them  like  a  picture.  A  large  cannon,  captured  from  the  Turks,  is 
standing  on  its  carriage  by  the  road-side,  a  mute  but  eloquent  wit- 
ness of  Servian  prowess. 

A  few  miles  farther  on  we  halt  for  dinner  at  Alesinatz,  near  the 
old  Servian  boundary -line,  also  the  scene  of  one  of  the  greatest  bat- 
tles fought  during  the  Servian  struggle  for  independence.  The 
Turks  were  victorious  this  time,  and  fifteen  thousand  Servians  and 
three  thousand  Eussian  allies  yielded  up  their  lives  here  to  superior 
Turkish  generalship,  and  Alexiuatz  was  burned  to  ashes.  The 
Russians  have  erected  a  granite  monument  on  a  hill  overlooking 
the  town,  in  memory  of  their  comrades  who  perished  in  this  fight. 

The  roads  to-day  average  even  better  than  yesterday,  and  at  six 
o'clock  we  roll  into  Nisch,  one  hundred  and  twenty  kilometres  from 
our  starting-point  this  morning,  and  two  hundred  and  eighty  from 
Belgrade.  As  we  enter  the  city  a  gang  of  convicts  working  on  the 
fortifications  forget  their  clanking  shackles  and  chains,  and  the 
miseries  of  their  state,  long  enough  to  greet  us  with  a  boisterous 
howl  of  approval,  and  the  guards  who  are  standing  over  them  for 
once,  at  least,  fail  to  check  them,  for  their  attention,  too,  is  wholly 
engrossed  in  the  same  wondrous  subject.  Nisch  appears  to  be  a 
thoroughly  Oriental  city,  and  here  I  see  the  first  Turkish  ladies, 
with  their  features  hidden  behind  their  white  yashmals. 

At  seven  or  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning,  when  it  is  compara- 
tively cool  and  people  are  patronizing  the  market,  trafficking  and 
bartering  for  the  day's  supply  of  provisions,  the  streets  present  quite 
an  animated  appearance  ;  but  during  the  heat  of  the  day  the  scene 
changes  to  one  of  squalor  and  indolence  ;  respectable  citizens  are 
smoking  nargilehs  (Mark  Twain's  "hubble-bubble"),  or  sleeping 


THROUGH   SLAVONIA   AND   SEEVIA.  173 

somewhere  out  of  sight ;  business  is  generally  suspended,  and  in 
every  shady  nook  and  corner  one  sees  a  swarthy  ragamuffin  stretched 
out  at  full  length,  perfectly  happy  and  contented  if  only  he  is  al- 
lowed to  snooze  the  hours  away  iu  peace. 

Human  nature  is  verily  the  same  the  world  over,  and  here,  in  the 
hotel  at  Nisch,  I  meet  an  individual  who  recalls  a  few  of  the  sensible 
questions  that  have  been  asked  me  from  time  to  time  at  different 
places  on  both  continents.  This  Nisch  interrogator  is  a  Hebrew  com- 
mercial traveller,  who  has  a  smattering  of  English,  and  who  after  as- 
certaining diu-ing  a  short  conversation  that,  when  a  range  of  moun- 
tains or  any  other  small  obstruction  is  encountered,  I  get  down  and 
push  the  bicycle  up,  airs  his  knowledge  of  English  and  of  'cycling 
to  the  extent  of  inquiring  whether  I  don't  take  a  man  along  to  push 
it  up  the  hills  ! 

Riding  out  of  Nisch  this  morning  we  stop  just  beyond  the  sub- 
urbs to  take  a  curious  look  at  a  grim  monument  of  Turkish  prowess, 
in  the  shape  of  a  square  stone  structure  which  the  Turks  buUt  iu 
1840,  and  then  faced  the  whole  exterior  with  grinning  rows  of  Ser- 
vian skulls  partially  embedded  in  mortar.  The  Servians,  naturally 
objecting  to  having  the  skulls  of  their  comrades  thus  exposed  to  the 
gaze  of  everybody,  have  since  removed  and  buried  them  ;  but  the 
rows  of  indentations  in  the  thick  mortared  surface  still  bear  unmis- 
takable evidence  of  the  nature  of  their  former  occupants. 

An  avenue  of  thrifty  prune-trees  shades  a  level  road  leading  out 
of  Nisch  for  several  kilometres,  but  a  heavy  thunder-storm  during 
the  night  has  made  it  rather  slavish  wheeling,  although  the  surface 
becomes  harder  and  smoother,  also  hillier,  as  we  gradually  approach 
the  Balkan  Mountains,  that  tower  well  up  toward  cloudland  im- 
mediately ahead.  The  morning  is  warm  and  muggy,  indicating- 
rain,  and  the  long,  steep  trundle,  kilometre  after  kilometre,  up  the 
Balkan  slopes,  is  anything  but  child's  play,  albeit  the  scenery  is 
most  lovely,  one  prospect  especially  reminding  me  of  a  view  in  the 
Big  Horn  Mountains  of  northern  Wyoming  Territory.  On  the 
lower  slopes  we  come  to  a  mehana,  where,  besides  plenty  of  shade- 
trees,  we  find,  springs  of  most  delightfully  cool  water  gxishing  out 
of  crevices  in  the  rocks,  and,  throwing  our  freely  perspiring  forms 
beneath  the  grateful  shade  and  letting  the  cold  water  play  on  our 
wrists  (the  best  method  in  the  world  of  cooling  one's  self  when 
overheated),  we  both  vote  that  it  would  be  a  most  agreeable  place 
to  spend  the  heat  of  the  day.     But  the  morning  is  too  young  yet 


174  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

to  think  of  thus  indulging,  and  the  mountainous  prospect  ahead 
warns  us  that  the  distance  covered  to-day  will  be  short  enough  at 
the  best. 

The  Balkans  are  clothed  with  green  foliage  to  the  topmost 
crags,  wild  pear-trees  being  no  inconspicuous  feature  ;  charming 
little  valleys  wind  about  between  the  mountain-spurs,  and  last 
night's  downpour  has  imparted  a  freshness  to  the  whole  scene  that 
perhaps  it  would  not  be  one's  good  fortune  to  see  every  day,  even 
were  he  here.  This  region  of  intermingled  vales  and  forest-clad 
mountains  might  be  the  natural  home  of  brigandage,  and  those  fe- 
rocious-looking specimens  of  humanity  with  things  like  long  guns 
in  hand,  running  with  scrambUng  haste  down  the  mountain-side 
toward  our  road  ahead,  look  like  veritable  brigands  heading  us  off 
with  a  view  to  capturing  us.  But  they  are  peacefully  disposed  goat- 
herds, who,  alpenstocks  in  hand,  are  endeavoring  to  see  "  what  in 
the  world  those  queer-looking  things  are,  coming  up  the  road." 
Their  tuneful  noise,  as  they  play  on  some  kind  of  an  instrument, 
greets  our  ears  from  a  dozen  mountain-slopes  round  about  us,  as 
we  put  our  shoulders  to  the  wheel,  and  gradually  approach  the 
summit.  Tortoises  are  occasionally  surprised  basking  in  the  sun- 
beams in  the  middle  of  the  road  ;  when  molested  they  hiss  quite 
audibly  in  protest,  but  if  passed  peacefully  by  they  are  seen  shuffling 
off  into  the  bushes,  as  though  thankful  to  escape.  Unhappy  oxen 
are  toiling  patiently  upward,  literally  inch  by  inch,  dragging  heavj', 
creaking  wagons,  loaded  with  miscellaneous  importations,  promi- 
nent among  which  I  notice  square  cans  of  American  petroleum. 

Men  on  horseback  are  encountered,  the  long  guns  of  the 
Orient  slung  at  their  backs,  and  knife  and  pistols  in  sash,  looking 
altogether  ferocious.  Not  only  are  these  people  perfectly  harmless, 
however,  but  I  verily  think  it  would  take  a  good  deal  of  aggravation 
to  make  them  even  think  of  fighting.  The  fellow  whose  horse  we 
frightened  down  a  rocky  embankment,  at  the  imminent  risk  of 
breaking  the  neck  of  both  horse  and  rider,  had  both  gun,  knife, 
and  pistols ;  yet,  though  he  probably  thinks  us  emissaries  of  the 
evil  one,  he  is  in  no  sense  a  dangerous  character,  his  weapons  being 
merely  gewgaws  to  adorn  his  person.  Finally,  the  summit  of  this 
range  is  gained,  and  the  long,  grateful  descent  into  the  valley  of  the 
Nissava  Eiver  begins.  The  surface  during  this  descent,  though 
averaging  very  good,  is  not  always  of  the  smoothest ;  several  dis- 
mounts are  fouad  to  be  necessary,  and  many  places  ridden  over 


THROUGH    SLAVONIA    AND   SERVIA. 


175 


require  a  quick  hand  and  ready  eye  to  pass.  The  Servians  have 
made  a  capital  point  in  fixing  their  new  boundary-hne  south  of  this 
mountain-range. 


A  Belle  of  the   Balkans, 


Mountaineers  are  said  to  be  "  always  freemen  ; "  one  can  with 
equal  truthfulness  add  that  the  costumes  of  mountaineers'  wives 
and  daughters  are  always  more  picturesque  than  those  of  their  sis- 


176  FROM  SAN   FEANCISCO   TO  TEIIEEAK. 

ters  in  the  valleys.  In  these  Balkan  Mountains  their  costumes  are 
a  truly  wonderful  blending  of  colors,  to  say  nothing  of  fantastic 
patterns,  apparently  a  medley  of  ideas  borrowed  from  Occident  and 
Orient.  One  woman  we  have  just  passed  is  wearing  the  loose,  flow- 
ing pantaloons  of  the  Orient,  of  a  bright-yellow  color,  a  tight-fitting 
jacket  of  equally  bright  blue  ;  around  her  waist. is  folded  many 
times  a  red  and  blue  striped  waistband,  while  both  head  and  feet 
are  bare.  This  is  no  holiday  attire ;  it  is  plainly  the  ordinary  every- 
day costume. 

At  the  foot  of  the  range  we  halt  at  a  way-side  mehana  for 
dinner.  A  daily  diligence,  with  horses  four  abreast,  runs  over  the 
Balkans  from  Niseh  to  Sophia,  Bulgaria,  and  one  of  them  is  halted 
at  the  mehana  for  refreshments  and  a  change  of  horses.  Refresh- 
ments at  these  mehanas  are  not  always  palatable  to  travellers,  who 
almost  invariably  carry  a  supply  of  provisions  along.  Of  bread 
nothing  but  the  coarse,  black  variety  common  to  the  country  is 
forthcoming  at  this  mehana,  and  a  gentleman,  learning  from  Mr. 
Popovitz  that  I  have  not  yet  been  educated  up  to  black  bread, 
fishes  a  large  roll  of  excellent  milch-Brod  out  of  his  traps  and 
kindly  presents  it  to  us  ;  and  obtaining  from  the  mehana  some 
hune-hen  fahrica  and  wine  we  make  a  very  good  flieal.  This  hune- 
henfabrica  is  nothing  more  nor  less  than  cooked  chicken.  Whether 
hune-hen  fahrica  is  genuine  Hungarian  for  cooked  chicken,  or 
whether  Igali  manufactured  the  term  especially  for  use  between 
us,  I  cannot  quite  understand.  Be  this  as  it  may,  before  we  started 
from  Belgrade,  Igali  impaiied  the  secret  to  Mi-.  Popovitz  that  I 
was  possessed  with  a  sort  of  a  wild  appetite,  as  it  were,  for  hune-hen 
fahrica  and  cherries,  three  times  a  day,  the  consequence  being  that 
Mr.  Popovitz  thoughtfully  orders  those  viands  whenever  we  halt. 
After  dinner  the  mutterings  of  thunder  over  the  mountains  warn 
us  that  unless  we  wish  to  experience  the  doubtful  luxuries  of  a 
road-side  mehana  for  the  night  we  had  better  make  all  speed  to  the 
village  of  Bela  Palanka,  twelve  kilometres  distant  over  rather  hilly 
roads.  In  forty  minutes  we  arrive  at  the  Bela  Palanka  mehana,  some 
time  before  the  rain  begins.  It  is  but  twenty  kilometres  to  Pirot, 
near  the  Bulgarian  frontier,  whither  my  companion  has  purposed 
to  accompany  me,  but  we  are  forced  to  change  this  programme  and 
remain  at  Bela  Palanka.  ■  . 

It  rains  hard  all  night,  converting  the  unassuming  Nissava  into 
a  roaring  yellow  torrent,  and  the  streets  of  the  little  Balkan  village 


13 


178  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

into  mud-holes.  It  is  still  raining  on  Sunday  morning,  and  as  Mr. 
Popovitz  is  obliged  to  be  back  to  his  duties  as  foreign  correspond- 
ent in  the  Servian  National  Bank  at  Belgrade  on  Tuesday,  and  the 
Balkan  roads  have  been  rendered  impassable  for  a  bicycle,  he  is 
compelled  to  hire  a  team  and  wagon  to  haul  him  and  his  wheel 
back  over  the  mountains  to  Niseh,  while  I  have  to  remain  over 
Sunday  amid  the  dirt  and  squalor  and  discomforts — to  say  noth- 
ing of  a  second  night  among  the  fleas — of  an  Oriental  village 
mehana.  We  only  made  fifty  kilometres  over  the  mountains  yester- 
day, but  during  the  three  days  from  Belgrade  together  the  aggre- 
gate has  been  satisfactory,  and  Mr.  Popovitz  has  proven  a  most 
agreeable  and  interesting  companion.  When  but  fourteen  years  of 
age  he  served  under  the  banner  of  the  Eed  Cross  in  the  war  be- 
tween the  Turks  and  Servians,  and  is  altogether  an  ardent  patriot. 

My  Sunday  in  Bela  Palanka  impresses  me  with  the  conviction 
that  an  Oriental  village  is  a  splendid  place  not  to  live  in.  In  dry 
weather  it  is  disagreeable  enough,  but  to-day  it  is  a  disorderly  ag- 
gregation of  miserable-looking  villagers,  pigs,  ducks,  geese,  chick- 
ens, and  dogs,  paddling  around  the  muddy  streets.  The  Oriental 
peasant's  costume  is  picturesque  or  otherwise,  according  to  the 
fancy  of  the  observer.  The  red  fez  or  turban,  the  upper  garment 
and  the  ample  red  sash  wound  round  and  round  the  waist  imtil  it  is 
eighteen  inches  broad,  look  picturesque  enough  for  anybody  ;  but 
when  it  comes  to  having  the  seat  of  the  pantaloons  dangling  about 
the  calves  of  the  legs,  a  person  imbued  with  Western  ideas  naturally 
thinks  that  if  the  Une  between  picturesqueness  and  a  two-bushel 
gunny-sack  is  to  be  drawn  anywhere  it  should  most  assuredly  bo 
drawn  here.  As  I  notice  how  prevalent  this  ungainly  style  of  nether 
garment  is  in  the  Orient,  I  find  myself  getting  quite  uneasy  lest, 
perchance,  anything  serious  should  happen  to  mine,  and  I  should 
be  compelled  to  ride  the  bicycle  in  a  pair  of  natives,  which  would, 
however,  be  an  altogether  impossible  feat  unless  it  were  feasible  to 
gather  the  surplus  area  up  in  a  bunch  and  weajr  it  like  a  bustle.  I 
cannot  think,  however,  that  Fate,  cruel  as  she  sometimes  is,  has 
anything  so  outrageous  as  this  in  store  for  me  or  any  other  'cycler. 

Although  Turkish  ladies  have  almost  entirely  disappeared  from 
Servia  since  its  severance  from  Turkey,  they  have  left,  in  a  certain 
degree,  an  impress  upon  the  women  of  the  country  villages  ;  al- 
though the  Bela  Palanka  maidens,  as  I  notice  on  the  streets  in 
thek  Sunday  clothes  to-day,  do  not  wear  the  regulation  yashmak, 


TnUOUGII   SLAVONIA   AND   SERVIA.  179 

but  a  head-gear  that  partially  obscures  the  face,  their  whole  de- 
meanor giving  one  the  impression  that  their  one  object  in  life  is  to 
appear  the  pink  of  propriety  ia  the  eyes  of  the  whole  world  ;  they 
walk  along  the  streets  at  a  most  circumspect  gait,  looking  neither 
to  the  right  nor  left,  neither  stopping  to  converse  with  each  other 
by  the  way,  nor  paying  any  sort  of  attention  to  the  men.  The  two 
proprietors  of  the  mehana  where  I  am  stopping  are  subjects  for  a 
student  of  human  nature.  With  their  wretched  little  pigsty  of  a 
mehana  in  this  poverty-stricken  village,  they  are  gradually  accumulat- 
ing a  fortune.  Whenever  a  luckless  traveller  falls  into  their  clutches 
they  make  the  incident  count  for  something.  They  stand  expect- 
antly about  in  their  box-like  public  room  ;  their  whole  stock  consists 
of  a  Uttle  diluted  wine  and  mastic,  and  if  a  bit  of  black  bread  and 
smear-kiise  is  ordered,  one  is  putting  it  down  in  the  book,  while  the 
other  is  ferreting  it  out  of  a  little  cabinet  where  they  keep  a  starva- 
tion quantity  of  edibles  ;  when  the  one  acting  as  waiter  has  placed 
the  inexpensive  morsel  before  you,  he  goes  over  to  the  book  to 
make  sure  that  number  two  has  put  down  enough  ;  and,  although 
the  maximum  value  of  the  provisions  is  perhaps  not  over  twopence, 
this  precious  pair  will  actually  put  their  heads  together  in  consul- 
tation over  the  amount  to  be  chalked  down.  Ere  the  shades  of 
Sunday  evening  have  settled  down,  I  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  if  these  two  are  average  specimens  of  the  Oriental  Jew  they  are 
financially  a  totally  depraved  people. 

The  rain  ceased  soon  after  noon  on  Sunday,  and,  although  the 
roads  are  all  but  impassable,  I  pull  out  southward  at  five  o'clock  on 
Monday  morning,  trundling  up  the  mountain-roads  through  mud 
that  frequently  compels  me  to  stop  and  use  the  scraper.  After  the 
summit  of  the  hills  between  Bela  Palanka  and  Pirot  is  gained,  the 
road  descending  into  the  valley  beyond  becomes  better,  enabling 
me  to  make  quite  good  time  into  Pirot,  where  my  passport  under- 
goes an  examination,  and  ia  favored  with  a  vise  by  the  Servian  of- 
ficials preparatory  to  crossing  the  Servian  and  Bulgarian  frontier 
about  twenty  kilometres  to  the  southward.  Pirot  is  quite  a  large 
and  important  village,  and  my  appearance  is  the  signal  for  more 
excitement  than  the  Pu-oters  have  experienced  for  many  a  day. 

While  I  am  partaking  of  bread  and  coffee  in  the  hotel,  the  main 
street  becomes  crowded  as  on  some  festive  occasion,  the  grown-up 
people's  faces  beaming  with  as  much  joyous  anticipation  of  what 
they  expect  to  behold  when  I  emerge  from  the  hotel  as  the  un- 


180  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

washed  countenances  of  the  ragged  youngsters  around  them.  Lead- 
insf  citizens  who  have  been  to  Paris  or  Vienna,  and  have  learned 
something  about  what  sort  of  road  a  'cycler  needs,  have  imparted 
the  secret  to  many  of  their  fellow-townsmen,  and  there  is  a  general 
stampede  to  the  highway  leading  out  of  town  to  the  southward. 
This  road  is  found  to  be  most  excellent,  and  the  enterprising  people 
who  have  walked,  ridden,  or  driven  out  there,  in  order  to  see  me 
ride  past  to  the  best  possible  advantage,  are  rewarded  by  witness- 
ing what  they  never  saw  before — a  cycler  speeding  along  past  them 
at  ten  miles  an  hour.  This  gives  such  general  satisfaction  that  for 
some  considerable  distance  I  ride  between  a  double  row  of  lifted 
hats  and  general  salutations,  and  a  swelling  murmur  of  applause 
runs  all  along  the  line. 

Two  citizens,  more  enterprising  even  than  the  others,  have  de- 
termined to  follow  me  with  team  and  light  wagon  to  a  road-side 
office  ten  kilometres  ahead,  where  passports  have  again  to  be  ex- 
amined. The  road  for  the  whole  distance  is  level  and  fairly 
smooth  ;  the  Servian  horses  are,  like  the  Indian  ponies  of  the 
West,  small,  Taut  wiry  and  tough,  and  although  I  press  forward 
quite  energetically,  the  whip  is  applied  without  stint,  and  when 
the  passport  office  is  reached  we  pull  up  alongside  it  together,  but 
their  ponies'  sides  are  white  with  lather.  The  passport  officer  is 
so  delighted  at  the  story  of  the  race,  as  narrated  to  him  by  the 
others,  that  he  fetches  me  out  a  piece  of  lump  sugar  and  a  glass  of 
water,  a  common  refreshment  partaken  of  in  this  country. 

Yet  a  third  time  I  am  halted  by  a  roadside  official  and  required 
to  produce  my  passport,  and  again  at  the  village  of  Zaribrod,  just 
over  the  Bulgarian  frontier,  which  I  reach  about  ten  o'clock.  To 
the  Bulgarian  official  I  present  a  small  stamped  card-board  check, 
which  was  given  me  for  that  purpose  at  the  last  Servian  examina- 
tion, but  he  doesn't  seem  to  understand  it,  and  demands  to  see  the 
original  passport.  When  my  English  passport  is  produced  he  ex- 
amines it,  and  straightway  assures  me  of  the  Bulgarian  official  re- 
spect for  an  Englishman  by  grasping  me  warmly  by  the  hand.  The 
passport  office  is  in  the  second  story  of  a  mud  hovel,  and  is  reached 
by  a  dilapidated  flight  of  out-door  stairs.  My  bicycle  is  left  lean- 
ing against  the  building,  and  during  my  brief  interview  with  the 
officer  a  noisy  crowd  of  semi-civilized  Bulgarians  have  collected 
about,  examining  it  and  commenting  unreservedly  concernin"'  it 
and  myself.     The  officer,  ashamed  of  the  rudeness  of  his  country- 


TIIUOUGU   SLAVOi^IA   AND   SKRVIA. 


181 


men  and  tlieir  evidently  untutored  minds,  leans  out  of  the  window, 
and  in  a  chiding  voice  explains  to  the  crowd  that  I  am  a  private  in- 
dividual, and  not  a  travelling  mountebank  going  about  the  country 


The  Zaribrod   Passport  Office. 


giving  exhibitions,  and  advises  them  to  uphold  the  dignity  of  the 
Bulgarian  character  by  scattering  forthwith.  But  the  crowd 
doesn't  scatter  to  any  appreciable  extent ;  they  don't  care  whether 
I  am  public  or  private  ;  they  have  never  seen  anything  like  me  and 
the  bicycle  before,  and  the  one  opportunity  of  a  lifetime  is  not  to 


182  FBOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEUERAN. 

be  lightly  passed  over.  They  are  a  ■wild,  imtamed  lot,  these  Bul- 
garians here  at  Zaribrod,  little  given  to  self-restraint. 

When  I  emerge,  the  silence  of  eager  anticipation  takes  entire 
possession  of  the  crowd,  only  to  break  forth  into  a  spontaneous 
howl  of  delight  from  three  hundred  bared  throats  vyhen  I  mount 
into  the  saddle  and  ride  away  into— Bulgaria. 

My  ride  through  Servia,  save  over  the  Balkans,  has  been  most 
enjoyable,  and  the  roads,  I  am  agreeably  surprised  to  have  to 
record,  have  averaged  as  good  as  any  country  in  Europe,  save  Eng- 
land and  France,  though  being  for  the  most  part  unmacadamized ; 
■with  ■wet  ■weather  they  ■would  scarcely  show  to  such  advantage. 
My  impression  of  the  Servian  peasantry  is  most  favorable  ;  they 
are  evidently  a  warm-hearted,  hospitable,  and  withal  a  patriotic 
people,  loving  their  little  country  and  appreciating  their  indepen- 
dence as  only  people  who  have  but  recently  had  their  dream  of 
self-government  realized  know  how  to  appreciate  it ;  they  even 
paint  the  wood-work  of  their  bridges  and  public  buildings  'Vfith 
the  national  colors.  I  am  assured  that  the  Servians  have  pro- 
gressed wonderfully  since  acquiring  their  full  independence  ;  but 
as  one  journeys  down  the  beautiful  and  fertile  valley  of  the 
Morava,  where  improvements  would  naturally  be  seen,  if  anywhere, 
one  faUs  to  wondering  where  they  can  possibly  have  come  in. 

Some  of  their  methods  would,  indeed,  seem  to  indicate  a  most 
deplorable  lack  of  practicability ;  one  of  the  most  ridiculous,  to  the 
writer's  mind,  is  the  erection  of  small,  long  sheds  substantially 
built  of  heavy  hewn  timber  supports,  and  thick,  home-made  tiles, 
over  ordinary  plank  fences  and  gates  to  protect  them  from  the 
weather,  when  a  good  coating  of  tar  or  paint  would  answer  the 
purpose  of  preservation  much  better.  These  structures  give 
one  the  impression  of  a  doUar  placed  over  a  penny  to  protect 
the  latter  from  harm.  Every  peasant  owns  a  few  acres  of  land, 
and,  if  he  produces  anything  above  his  own  wants,  he  hauls  it  to 
market  in  an  ox-wagon  with  roughly  hewn  wheels  without  tires, 
and  whose  creaking  can  plainly  be  heard  a  mile  away.  At  present 
the  Servian  tills  his  little  freehold  with  the  clumsiest  of  imple- 
ments, some  his  o^wn  rude  handiwork,  and  the  best  imperfectly 
fashioned  and  forged  on  native  anvils.  His  plow  is  chiefly  the 
forked  limb  of  a  tree,  pointed  with  iron  sufficiently  to  enable  him 
to  root  around  in  the  surface  soil.  One  would  think  the  country 
might  offer  a  promising  field  for  some  entei-prising  manufacttu-er 


THROUGH  SLAVONIA  AND   SERVIA.  183 

of  such  implementa  as  hoes,  scythes,  hay-forks,  small,  strong  plows, 
cultivators,  etc. 

These  people  are  industrious,  especially  the  women.  I  have 
frequently  met  a  Servian  peasant  woman  returning  homeward  in 
the  evening  from  her  labor  in  the  fields,  carrying  a  fat,  heavy  baby, 
a  clumsy  hoe  not  much  lighter  than  the  youngster,  and  an  earthen- 
ware water-pitcher,  and,  at  the  same  time,  industriously  spinning 
wool  with  a  small  hand-spindle.  And  yet  some  people  argue  about 
the  impossibility  of  doLug  two  things  at  once!  "Whether  these 
poor  women  have  been  hoeing  potatoes,  carrying  the  infant,  and 
spinning  wool  at  the  same  time  all  day  I  am  unable  to  say,  not 
having  been  an  eye  witness,  though  I  reaUy  should  not  be  much 
astonished  if  they  had. 


CHAPTEE  VIII. 

BULGARIA,  ROUMELIA,  AND  INTO  TURKEY. 

The  road  leading  into  Bulgaria  from  the  Zaribrod  custom-house 
is  fairly  good  for  several  kilometres,  when  mountainous  and  rough 
ways  are  encountered  ;  it  is  a  country  of  goats  and  goat-herds.  A 
rain-storni  is  hovering  threateningly  over  the  mountains  imme- 
diately ahead,  but  it  does  not  reach  the  vicinity  I  am  traversing : 
it  passes  to  the  southward,  and  makes  the  roads  for  a  number  of 
miles  wellnigh  impassable.  Up  in  the  mountains  I  meet  more  than 
one  "  Bulgarian  national  express  ' — pony  pack-trains,  cariying  mer- 
chandise to  and  fro  between  Sofia  and  Nisch.  Most  of  these  ani- 
mals are  too  heavily  laden  to  think  of  objecting  to  the  appearance 
of  anything  on  the  road,  but  some  of  the  outfits  are  returning  from 
Sofia  in  "ballast "  only  ;  and  one  of  these,  doubtless  overjoyed  be- 
yond measure  at  their  unaccustomed  lissomeness,  breaks  through 
all  restraint  at  my  approach,  and  goes  stampeding  over  the  rolling 
hUls,  the  wild-looking  teamsters  in  full  tear  after  them.  Whatever 
of  this  nature  happens  in  this  part  of  the  world  the  people  seem  to 
regard  with  commendable  complacence  :  instead  of  wasting  time  in 
trying  to  quarrel  about  it,  they  set  about  gathering  up  the  scattered 
train,  as  though  a  stampede  were  the  most  natural  thing  going. 

Bulgaria — at  least  by  the  route  I  am  crossing  it — is  a  land  of 
mountains  and  elevated  plateaus,  and  the  inhabitants  I  should  call 
the  "ranchers  of  the  Orient,"  in  their  general  appearance  and  de- 
meanor bearing  the  same  relation  to  the  plodding  corn-hoer  and 
scythe-swinger  of  the  Morava  Valley  as  the  Niobrara  cow-boy  does 
to  the  Nebraska  homesteader.  On  the  mountains  are  encountered 
herds  of  goats  in  charge  of  men  who  reck  little  for  civilization,  and 
the  upland  plains  are  dotted  over  with  herds  of  ponies  that  require 
constant  watching  in  the  interest  of  scattered  fields  of  grain.  For 
lunch  I  halt  at  an  unlikely-looking  mehana,  near  a  cluster  of  mud 
hovels,  which,  I  suppose,  the  Bulgarians  consider  a  village,  and  am 
rewarded  by  the  blackest  of  black  bread,  in  the  composition  of 
which  sand  plays  no  inconsiderable  part,  and  the  remnants  of  a 


BULGAltlA,  UOUMELIA,  AND    INTO   TUUKEY.  185 

cbicken  killed  and  stewed  nt  some  uncertain  period  of  the  past. 
Of  all  places  invented  in  the  world  to  disgust  a  hungry,  expectant 
wayfarer,  the  Bulgarian  mehana  is  the  most  abominable.  Black 
bread  and  mastic  (a  composition  of  gum-mastic  and  Boston  rum, 
so  I  am  informed)  seem  to  be  about  the  only  things  habitually  kept 
in  stock,  and  everything  about  the  place  plainly  shows  the  proprie- 
tor to  be  ignorant  of  the  crudest  notions  of  cleanliness. 

A  storm  is  observed  brewing  in  the  mountains  I  have  lately 
traversed,  and,  having  swallowed  my  unpalatable  lunch,  I  hasten  to 
mount,  and  betake  myself  off  toward  Sofia,  distant  thirty  kilometres. 
The  road  is  nothing  extra,  to  say  the  least,  but  a  howling  wind  blow- 
ing from  the  region  of  the  gathering  storm  propels  me  rapidly,  in 
spite  of  undulations,  ruts,  and  undesirable  road  qualities  generally. 
The  region  is  an  elevated  plateau,  of  which  but  a  small  proportion 
is  cultivated  ;  on  more  than  one  of  the  neighboring  peaks  patches  of 
snow  are  still  lingering,  and  the  cool  mountain  breezes  recall  mem- 
ories of  the  Laramie  Plains.  Men  and  women  returning  home- 
ward on  horseback  from  Sofia  are  frequently  encountered.  The 
women  are  decked  with  beads  and  trinkets  and  the  gewgaws  of 
semi-civilization,  as  might  be  the  favorite  squaws  of  Squatting 
Beaver  or  Sitting  Bull,  and  furthermore  imitate  their  copper-col- 
ored sisters  of  the  Far  West  by  bestriding  their  ponies  like  men. 
But  in  the  matter  of  artistic  and  profuse  decoration  of  the  person 
the  squaw  is  far  behind  the  peasant  woman  of  Bulgaria.  The  gar- 
ments of  the  men  are  a  combination  of  sheepskin  and  a  thick, 
coarse,  woollen  material,  spun  by  the  women,  and  fashioned  after 
patterns  their  forefathers  brought  with  them  centuries  ago  when 
they  first  invaded  EuroiJe.  The  Bulgarian  saddle,  like  everything 
else  here,  is  a  rudely  constructed  affair,  that  answers  the  double 
purpose  of  a  pack-saddle  or  for  riding — a  home-made,  unwieldy 
thing,  that  is  a  fair  pony's  load  of  itself. 

At  4.30  P.M.  I  wheel  into  Sofia,  the  Bulgarian  Capital,  having 
covered  one  hundred  and  ten  kilometres  to-day,  in  spite  of  mud, 
mountains,  and  roads  that  have  been  none  of  the  best.  Here  again 
I  have  to  patronize  the  money-changers,  for  a  few  Servian  francs 
which  I  have  are  not  current  in  Bulgaria  ;  and  the  Israelite,  who 
reserved  unto  himself  a  profit  of  two  francs  on  the  pound  at  Nisch, 
now  seems  the  spirit  of  fairness  itself  along-side  a  hook-nosed, 
wizen-faced  relative  of  his  here  at  Sofia,  who  wants  two  Servian 
fi-ancs  in  exchange  for  each  Bulgarian  coin  of  the  same  intrinsic 


186  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

value  ;  and  the  best  I  am  able  to  get  by  going  to  several  different 
money-changers  is  five  francs  in  exchange  for  seven ;  yet  the 
Servian  frontier  is  but  sixty  kilometres  distant,  with  stages  run- 
ning to  it  daily  ;  and  the  two  coins  are  identical  in  intrinsic  value. 
At  the  Hotel  Concordia,  in  Sofia,  in  lieu  of  plates,  the  meat  is  served 
on  round,  flat  blocks  of  wood  about  the  circumference  of  a  saucer 
— the  "  trenchers  "  of  the  time  of  Henry  VHI. — and  two  respecta- 
ble citizens  seated  opposite  me  are  supping  off  black  bread  and 
a  sliced  cucumber,  both  fishing  slices  of  the  cucumber  out  of  a 
wooden  bowl  with  their  fingers. 

.  Life  at  the  Bulgarian  Capital  evidently  bears  its  legitimate  re- 
lative comparison  to  the  life  of  the  country  it  represents.  One  of 
Prince  Alexander's  body-guard,  pointed  out  to  me  in  the  bazaar, 
looks  quite  a  semi-barbarian,  arrayed  in  a  highly  ornamented  na- 
tional costume,  with  immense  Oriental  pistols  in  waistband,  and 
gold-braided  turban  cocked  on  one  side  of  his  head,  and  a  fierce 
mustache.  The  soldiers  here,  even  the  comparatively  fortunate  ones 
standing  guard  at  the  entrance  to  the  prince's  palace,  look  as  though 
they  haven't  had  a  new  uniform  for  years  and  had  long  since  de- 
spaired of  ever  getting  one.  A  war,  and  an  alliance  with  some 
wealthy  nation  which  would  rig  them  out  in  respectable  uniforms, 
would  probably  not  be  an  unwelcome  event  to  many  of  them. 

While  wandering  about  the  bazaar,  after  supper,  I  observe  that 
the  streets,  the  palace  grounds,  and  in  fact  every  place  that  is  lit  up 
at  all,  save  the  minarets  of  the  mosque,  which  are  always  illumLned 
with  vegetable  oil,  are  lighted  with  American  petroleum,  gas  and 
coal  being  unknown  in  the  Bulgarian  capital.  There  is  an  evident 
want  of  system  in  everything  these  people  do.  From  my  own  ob- 
servations I  am  inclined  to  think  they  pay  no  heed  whatever  to 
generally  accepted  divisions  of  time,  but  govern  their  actions  en- 
tirely by  light  and  darkness.  There  is  no  eight-hour  nor  ten-hour 
system  of  labor  here  ;  and  I  verily  believe  the  industrial  classes 
work  the  whole  time,  save  when  they  pause  to  munch  black  bread 
and  to  take  three  or  four  hours'  sleep  in  the  middle  of  the  night ; 
for  as  I  trundle  my  way  through  the  streets  at  five  o'clock  next 
morning,  the  same  people  I  observed  at  various  occupations  in  the 
bazaars  are  there  now,  as  busily  engaged  as  though  they  had  been 
keeping  it  up  all  night ;  as  also  are  workmen  building  a  house  • 
they  were  pegging  away  at  nine  o'clock  yesterday  evening,  by  the 
flickering  light  of  small  petroleum  lamps,  and  at  five  this  morning 


AND   INTO   TURKEY.  187 

they  scarcely  look  like  men  who  are  just  commencing  for  the  day. 
The  Oriental,  with  his  primitive  methods  and  tenacious  adherence 
to  the  ways  of  his  forefathers,  probably  enough,  has  to  work  these 
extra  long  hours  in  order  to  make  any  sort  of  progress.  However 
this  may  be,  I  have  throughout  the  Orient  been  struck  by  the  in- 
dustriousness  of  the  real  working  classes  ;  but  in  practicability  and 
inventiveness  the  Oriental  is  sadly  deficient. 

On  the  way  out  I  pause  at  the  bazaar  to  drink  hot  milk  and  eat 
a  roll  of  white  bread,  the  former  being  quite  acceptable,  for  the 
morning  is  rather  raw  and  chilly  ;  the  wind  is  still  blowing  a  gale, 
and  a  company  of  cavalry,  out  for  exercise,  are  incased  in  their 
heavy  gray  overcoats,  as  though  it  were  midwinter  instead  of  the 
twenty-third  of  June.  Rudely  clad  peasants  are  encountered  on  the 
road,  carrying  large  cans  of  milk  into  Sofia  from  neighboring  ranches. 
I  stop  several  of  them  with  a  view  of  sampling  the  quality  of  their 
milk,  but  invariably  find  it  unstrained,  and  the  vessels  looking  as 
though  they  had  been  strangers  to  scalding  for  some  time.  Others 
are  carrying  gunny-sacks  of  smear-kdse  on  their  shoulders,  the 
whey  from  which  is  not  infrequently  streaming  down  their  backs. 
Cleanliness  is  no  doubt  next  to  godliness  ;  but  the  Bulgarians 
seem  to  be  several  degrees  removed  from  either.  They  need  the 
civilizing  influence  of  soap  quite  as  much  as  anything  else,  and  if 
the  missionaries  cannot  educate  them  up  to  Christianity  or  civili- 
zation it  might  not  be  a  bad  scheme  to  try  the  experiment  of  start- 
ing a  native  soap-factory  or  two  in  the  country. 

Savagery  lingers  in  the  lap  of  civilization  on  the  breezy  plateaus 
of  Bulgaria,  but  salvation  is  coming  this  way  in  the  shape  of  an 
extension  of  the  EoumeUan  railway  from  the  south,  to  connect  with 
the  Servian  line  north  of  the  Balkans.  For  years  the  freight  depart- 
ment of  this  pioneer  railway  will  have  to  run  opposition  against  ox- 
teams,  and  creaking,  groaning  wagons ;  and  since  railway  stockhold- 
ers and  directors  are  not  usually  content  with  an  exclusive  diet  of 
black  bread,  with  a  wilted  cucumber  for  a  change  on  Sundays,  as 
is  the  Bulgarian  teamster,  and  since  locomotives  cannot  be  turned 
out  to  graze  free  of  charge  on  the  hill-sides,  the  competition  will 
not  be  so  entirely  one-sided  as  might  be  imagined.  Long  trains  of 
these  ox-teams  are  met  with  this  morning  hauling  freight  and  build- 
ing-lumber from  the  railway  terminus  in  Roumelia  to  Sofia.  The 
teamsters  are  wearing  large  gray  coats  of  thick  blanketing,  with 
hoods  covering  the  head,  a  heavy,  convenient  garment,  that  keeps 


188  FROM    SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

out  botli  rain  and  cold  while  on  the  road,  and  at  night  serves  for 
blanket  and  mattress ;  for  then  the  teamster  turns  his  oxen  loose 
on  the  adjacent  hill-sides  to  graze,  and,  after  munching  a  piece  of 
black  bread,  he  places  a  small  wicker-work  wind-break  against  the 
windward  side  of  the  wagon,  and,  curling  himself  up  in  his  great- 
coat, sleeps  soundly.  Besides  the  ox-trains,  large,  straggling  trains 
of  pack-ponies  and  donkeys  occasionally  fill  the  whole  roadway  ; 
they  are  carrying  firewood  and  charcoal  from  the  mountains,  or 
wine  and  spirits,  in  long,  slender  casks,  from  Roumelia  ;  while 
others  are  loaded  with  bales  and  boxes  of  miscellaneous  merchan- 
dise, out  of  all  proportion  to  their  own  size. 

The  road  southward  from  Sofia  is  abominable,  being  originally 
constructed  of  earth  and  large  unbroken  bowlders  ;  it  has  not  been 
repaired  for  years,  and  the  pack-trains  and  ox-wagons  forever 
crawling  along  have,  during  the  wet  weather  of  many  seasons, 
tramped  the  dirt  away,  and  left  the  surface  a  wretched  waste  of 
ruts,  holes,  and  thickly  protruding  stones.  It  is  the  worst  piece  of 
road  I  have  encountered  in  all  Europe  ;  and  although  it  is  ridable 
this  morning  by  a  cautious  person,  one  risks  and  invites  disaster 
at  every  turn  of  the  wheel.  "  01 J  Boreas  "  comes  howling  from  the 
mountains  of  the  north,  and  hustles  me  briskly  along  over  ruts, 
holes,  and  bowlders,  however,  in  a  most  reckless  fashion,  furnishing 
all  the  propelling  power  needful,  and  leaving  me  nothing  to  do  but 
keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  breakneck  places  immediately  ahead. 

In  Servia,  the  peasants,  driving  along  the  road  in  their  wagons, 
upon  observing  me  approaching  them,  being  uncertain  of  the  char- 
acter of  my  vehicle  and  the  amount  of  road-space  I  require,  would 
ofttimes  drive  entirely  off  the  road ;  and  sometimes,  when  they 
failed  to  take  this  precaution,  and  their  teams  would  begin  to  show 
signs  of  restiveness  as  I  drew  near,  the  men  would  seem  to  lose 
their  wits  for  the  moment,  and  cry  out  in  alai-m,  as  though  some 
luiknown  danger  were  hovering  over  them.  I  have  seen  women 
begin  to  wail  quite  pitifully,  as  though  they  fancied  I  bestrode  an 
all-devouring  circular  saw  that  was  about  to  whirl  into  them  and 
rend  team,  wagon,  and  everything  asunder.  But  the  Bulgai-ians 
don't  seem  to  care  much  whether  I  am  going  to  saw  them  in  twain 
or  not ;  they  are  far  less  particular  about  yielding  the  road  and 
both  men  and  women  seem  to  be  made  of  altogether  sterner  stuff 
than  the  Servians  and  Slavonians.  They  seem  several  decrees  less 
civilized  than  their  neighbors  farther  north,  judging  from  their 


BULGARIA,   KOUMELIA,    AND   INTO   TURKEY.  189 

general  appearance  and  demeanor.  They  act  peaceably  and  are 
reasonably  civil  toward  me  and  the  bicycle,  however,  and  person- 
ally I  rather  eujoy  their  rough,  unpolished  manners.  Although 
there  is  a  certain  element  of  rudeness  and  boisterousness  about 
them,  compared  with  anything  I  have  encountered  elsewhere  in 
Europe,  they  seem,  on  the  whole,  a  good-natured  people.  We 
Westerners  seldom  hear  anything  of  the  Bulgarians  except  in  war- 
times, and  then  it  is  usually  iu  connection  with  atrocities  that  fur- 
nish excellent  sensational  material  for  the  illustrated  weeklies ; 
consequently  I  rather  expected  to  have  a  rough  time  riding  through 
alone.  But,  instead  of  coming  out  slashed  and  scarred  like  a  Hei- 
delberg student,  I  emerge  from  their  territory  with  nothing  more 
serious  than  a  good  healthy  shaking  up  from  their  ill-conditioned 
roads  and  howling  winds,  and  my  prejudice  against  black  bread 
with  sand  in  it  partly  overcome  from  having  had  to  eat  it  or  noth- 
ing. Bulgaria  is  a  principality  under  the  suzerainty  of  the  Sultan, 
to  whom  it  is  supposed  to  pay  a  yearly  tribute  ;  but  the  suzerainty 
sits  lightly  upon  the  people,  since  they  do  pretty  much  as  they 
please  ;  and  they  never  worry  themselves  about  the  tribute,  simply 
putting  it  down  on  the  slate  whenever  it  comes  due.  The  Turks 
might  just  as  well  wipe  out  the  account  now  as  at  any  time,  for 
they  will  eventually  have  to  whistle  for  the  whole  indebtedness. 

A  smart  rain-storm  drives  me  into  an  uninviting  mehana  near 
the  Eoumelian  frontier,  for  two  unhappy  hours,  at  noon — a  mehana 
where  the  edible  accommodations  would  wring  an  "  Ugh  !  "  from 
an  American  Indian — and  the  sole  occupants  are  a  blear-eyed  Bul- 
garian, in  twenty-year-old  sheep-Skin  clothes,  whose  appearance 
plainly  indicates  an  over-fondness  for  mastic'  and  an  unhappy-look- 
ing black  kitten.  Fearful  lest  something,  perchance,  might  occur  to 
compel  me  to  spend  the  night  here,  I  don  my  gossamers  as  soon  as 
the  rain  slacks  up  a  little,  and  splurge  ahead  through  the  mud  to- 
ward Ichtiman,  which,  my  map  informs  me,  is  just  on  this  side  of 
the  Kodja  Balkans,  which  rise  up  in  dark  wooded  ridges  at  no 
great  distance  ahead,  to  the  southward.  The  mud  and  rain  com- 
bine to  make  things  as  disagreeable  as  possible,  but  before  three 
o'clock  I  reach  Ichtiman,  to  find  that  I  am  in  the  province  of  Eou- 
meUa,  and  am  again  required  to  produce  my  passport. 

I  am  now  getting  well  down  into  territory  that  quite  recently 
was  completely  u^der  the  dominion  of  the  "  unspeakable  Turk  " — 
unspeakable,  by  the  way,  to  the  wi-iter  in  more  senses  than  one — 


190  FROM   SAN   PEANCISCO   TO   TEIIEKAN. 

and  is  partly  so  even  now,  but  have  as  j-et  seen  very  little  of  the 
"mysterious  veiled  lady."  The  Bulgarians  are  Christian  when 
they  are  anything,  though  the  great  majority  of  them  are  nothing 
religiously.  A  comparatively  comfortable  mehana  is  found  here  at 
Ichtiman,  and  the  proprietor,  being  able  to  talk  German,  readily 
comprehends  the  meaning  of  hune-hen  fahrica;  but  I  have  to  dis- 
pense with  cherries. 

Mud  is  the  principal  element  of  the  road  leading  out  of  Ichtiman 
and  over  the  Kodja  Balkans  this  morning.  The  curious  crowd  of 
Ichtimanites  that  foUow  me  through  the  mud-holes  and  filth  of 
their  native  streets,  to  see  what  is  going  to  happen  when  I  get  clear 
of  them,  are  rewarded  but  poorly  for  their  trouble  ;  the  best  I  can 
possibly  do  being  to  make  a  spasmodic  run  of  a  hundred  yards 
through  the  mud,  which  I  do  purely  out  of  consideration  for  their 
inquisitiveness,  since  it  seems  rather  disagreeable  to  disappoint  a 
crowd  of  villagers  who  are  expectantly  following  and  watching  one's 
every  movement,  wondering,  in  their  ignorance,  why  you  don't  ride 
instead  of  walk.  It  is  a  long,  wearisome  trundle  up  the  muddy 
slopes  of  the  Kodja  Balkans,  but,  after  the  descent  into  the  Maritza 
Valley  begins,  some  little  ridable  surface  is  encountered,  though 
many  loose  stones  are  lying  about,  and  pitch-holes  innumerable, 
make  riding  somewhat  risky,  considering  that  the  road  frequently 
leads  immediately  alongside  precipices.  Pack-donkeys  are  met  on 
these  mountain-roads,  sometimes  filling  the  way,  and  coming  dog- 
gedly and  indifferently  forward,  even  in  places  where  I  have  little 
choice  between  scrambling  up  a  rock  on  one  side  of  the  road  or 
jumping  down  a  precipice  on  the  other.  I  can  generally  manage 
to  pass  them,  however,  by  placing  the  bicycle  on  one  side,  and, 
standing  guard  over  it,  push  them  off  one  by  one  as  they  pass. 
Some  of  these  EoumeUan  donkeys  are  the  most  diminutive  creatures 
I  ever  saw  ;  but  they  seem  capable  of  toiling  up  these  steep  moun- 
tain-roads with  enormous  loads.  I  met  one  this  morning  carryiu" 
bales  of  something  far  bigger  than  himself,  and  a  big  Eoumelian, 
whose  feet  actually  came  in  contact  with  the  ground  occasionally, 
perched  on  his  rump  ;  the  man  looked  quite  capable  of  carrying 
both  the  donkey  and  his  load. 

The  warm  and  fertile  Maritza  Valley  is  reached  soon  after  noon 
and  I  am  not  sorry  to  find  it  traversed  by  a  decent  macadamized 
road  ;  though,  while  it  has  been  raining  quite  heavily  up  among 
the  mountains,  this  valley  has  evidently  been  favored  with  a  small 


Meeting  the   "Bulgarian   Express.' 


BULGARIA,  RODMELIA,  AND   INTO   TURKEY.  193 

deluge,  and  frequent  stretches  are  covered  with  deep  mud  and 
sand,  -washed  down  from  the  adjacent  hills  ;  in  the  cultivated  areas 
of  the  Bulgarian  uplands  the  grain-fields  are  yet  quite  green,  but 
harvesting  has  already  begun  in  the  warmer  Maritza  Vale,  and  gangs 
of  Eoumelian  peasants  are  in  the  fields,  industriously  plying  reap- 
ing-hooks to  save  their  crops  of  wheat  and  rye,  which  the  storm 
has  badly  lodged.  Ere  many  miles  of  this  level  valley-road  are 
ridden  over,  a  dozen  pointed  minarets  loom  up  ahead,  and  at  four 
o'clock  I  dismount  at  the  confines  of  the  well  nigh  impassable 
streets  of  Tatar  Bazardjik,  quite  a  lively  little  city  in  the  sense 
that  Oriental  cities  are  lively,  which  means  well-stocked  bazaars 
thronged  with  motley  crowds.  Here  I  am  delayed  for  some  time 
by  a  thunder-storm,  and  finally  wheel  away  southward  in  the  face 
of  threatening  heavens.  Several  villages  of  gypsies  are  camped  on 
the  banks  of  the  Maritza,  just  outside  the  limits  of  Tatar  Bazar- 
djik;  a  crowd  of  bronzed,  half -naked  youngsters  wantonly  favor  me 
"tt'ith  a  fusillade  of  stones  as  I  ride  past,  and  several  gaunt,  hungry- 
looking  curs  follow  me  for  some  distance  with  much  threatening 
clamor.  The  dogs  in  the  Orient  seem  to  be  pretty  much  all  of 
one  breed,  genuine  mongrel,  possessing  nothing  of  the  spirit  and 
courage  of  the  animals  we  are  familiar  with.  Gypsies  are  more 
plentiful  south  of  the  Save  than  even  in  Austria-Hungary,  but  since 
leaving  Slavonia  I  have  never  been  importuned  by  them  for  alms. 
Travellers  from  other  countries  are  seldom  met  with  along  the 
roads  here,  and  I  su^jpose  that  the  wandering  Eomanies  have  long 
since  learned  the  uselessness  of  asking  alms  of  the  natives ;' but, 
since  they  religiously  abstain  from  anything  like  work,  how  they 
manage  to  live  is  something  of  a  mystery. 

Ere  I  am  five  kilometres  from  Tatar  Bazardjik  the  rain  begins 
to  descend,  and  there  is  neither  house  nor  other  shelter  visible 
anywhere  ahead.  The  peasants'  villages  are  all  on  the  river,  and 
the  road  leads  for  mile  after  mile  through  fields  of  wheat  and  rye. 
I  forge  ahead  in  a  drenching  downpour  that  makes  short  work 
of  the  thin  gossamer  suit,  which  on  this  occasion  barely  pre- 
vents me  getting  a  wet  skin  ere  I  descry  a  thrice-welcome  me- 
hana  ahead  and  repair  thither,  prepared  to  accept,  with  becoming 
thankfulness,  whatever  accommodation  the  place  affords.  It  proves 
many  degrees  superior  to  the  average  Bulgarian  institution  of  the 
same  name,  the  proprietor  causing  my  eyes  faii-ly  to  bulge  out  with 
astonishment  by  producing  a  box  of  French  sardines,  and  bread 
13 


194  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

several  shades  lighter  thau  I  had,  in  view  of  previous  experience, 
expected  to  find  it ;  and  for  a  bed  provides  one  of  the  huge, 
thick  overcoats  before  spoken  of,  which,  with  the  ample  hood,  en- 
velops the  whole  figure  in  a  covering  that  defies  both  wet  and  cold. 
I  am  provided  with  this  unsightly  but  none  the  less  acceptable 
garment,  and  given  the  happy  privilege  of  occupying  the  floor  of  a 
small  out-building  in  company  with  several  rough-looking  pack- 
train  teamsters  similarly  incased  ;  I  pass  a  not  altogether  comfortless 
night,  the  pattering  of  rain  against  the  one  small  window  effect- 
ually suppressing  such  thankless  thoughts  as  have  a  tendency  to 
come  unbidden  whenever  the  snoring  of  any  of  my  feUow-lodgers 
gets  aggravatingly  harsh.  In  all  this  company  I  think  I  am  the 
only  person  who  doesn't  snore,  and  when  I  awaJ^e  from  my  rather 
fitful  slumbers  at  four  o'clock  and  find  the  rain  no  longer  pattering 
against  the  window,  I  arise,  and  take  up  my  journey  toward 
Philippopolis,  the  city  I  had  intended  reaching  yesterday. 

It  is  after  crossing  the  Kodja  Balkans  and  descending  into  the 
Maritza  VaUey  that  one  finds  among  the  people  a  peculiarity  that, 
until  a  person  becomes  used  to  it,  causes  no  little  mystification  and 
many  ludicrous  mistakes.  A  shake  of  the  head,  which  with  us 
means  a  negative  answer,  means  exactly  the  reverse  with  the  people 
of  the  Maritza  VaUey ;  and  it  puzzled  me  not  a  little  more  than  once 
yesterday  afternoon  when  inquiring  whether  I  was  on  the  right  road, 
and  when  patronizing  fruit-stalls  in  Tatar  Bazardjik.  One  never 
feels  quite  certain  about  being  right  when,  after  inquiring  of  a  na- 
tive if  this  is  the  correct  road  to  Mustapha  Pasha  or  Philippopolis 
he  replies  with  a  vigorous  shake  of  the  head  ;  and  although  one 
soon  gets  accustomed  to  this  peculiarity  in  others,  and  accepts  it 
as  it  is  intended,  it  is  not  quite  so  easy  to  get  into  the  habit  your- 
self. This  queer  custom  seems  to  prevail  only  among  the  inhabi- 
tants of  this  particular  valley,  for  after  leaving  it  at  Adrianople  I 
see  nothing  more  of  it.  Another  peculiarity  aU  through  Oriental, 
and  indeed  through  a  good  part  of  Central  Europe,  is  that,  instead 
of  the  "  whoa "  which  we  use  to  a  horse,  the  driver  hisses  like  a 
goose. 

Yesterday  evening's  downpour  has  little  injured  the  road  be- 
tween the  mehana  and  Philippopolis,  the  capital  of  Eoumelia,  and  I 
wheel  to  the  confines  of  that  city  in  something  over  two  hours. 
Philippopolis  is  most  beautifully  situated,  being  built  on  and 
around  a  cluster  of  several  rocky  hills  ;  a  situation  which,  torrether 


BULGARIA,   ROUMELIA,  AND   INTO   TURKEY.  195 

with  a  plenitude  of  waving  trees,  imparts  a  pleasing  and  pictu- 
resque effect.  With  a  score  of  tapering  minarets  pointing  skyward 
among  the  green  foliage,  the  scene  is  thoroughly  Oriental;  but, 
like  all  Eastern  cities,  "  distance  lends  enchantment  to  the  view." 

All  down  the  Maritza  Valley,  and  in  lesser  numbers  extending 
southward  and  eastward  over  the  undulating  plains  of  Adrianople, 
are  many  prehistoric  mounds,  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  feet  high, 
and  of  about  the  same  diameter.  Sometimes  in  groups,  and  some- 
times singly,  these  mounds  occur  so  frequently  that  one  can  often 
count  a  dozen  at  a  time.  In  the  vicinity  of  Philippopolis  several 
have  been  excavated,  and  human  remains  discovered  reclining  beneath 
large  slabs  of  coarse  pottery  set  up  like  an  inverted  V,  thus  :  A,  evi- 
dently intended  as  a  water-shed  for  the  preservation  of  the  bodies. 
Another  feature  of  the  landscape,  and  one  that  fails  not  to  strike 
the  observant  traveller  as  a  melancholy  feature,  are  the  Moham- 
medan cemeteries.  Outside  every  town  and  near  every  village  are 
broad  areas  of  ground  thickly  studded  vnth  slabs  of  roughly  hewn 
rock  set  up  on  end  ;  cities  of  the  dead  vastly  more  populous  than 
the  abodes  of  life  adjacent.  A  person  can  stand  on  one  of  the  Phil- 
ippopolis heights  and  behold  the  hills  and  vales  all  around  thickly 
dotted  with  these  rude  reminders  of  our  universal  fate.  It  is  but 
as  yesterday  since  the  Turk  occupied  these  lands,  and  was  in  the 
habit  of  making  it  particularly  interesting  to  any  "  dog  of  a  Chris- 
tian "  who  dared  desecrate  one  of  these  Mussulman  cemeteries  with 
his  unholy  presence ;  but  to-day  they  are  unsurrounded  by  pro- 
tecting fence  or  the  moral  restrictions  of  dominant  Mussulmans, 
and  the  sheep,  cows,  and  goats  of  the  "  infidel  giaour "  graze 
among  them  ;  and  oh,  shade  of  Mohammed  !  hogs  also  scratch 
their  backs  against  the  tombstones  and  root  around,  at  their  own 
sweet  will,  sometimes  unearthing  skulls  and  bones,  which  it  is  the 
Turkish  custom  not  to  bury  at  any  great  depth.  The  great  num- 
ber and  extent  of  these  cemeteries  seem  to  appeal  to  the  unaccus- 
tomed observer  in  eloquent  evidence  against  a  people  whose  rule 
and  religion  have  been  of  the  sword. 

While  obtaining  my  breakfast  of  bread  and  milk  in  the  Philip- 
popolis bazaar  an  Arab  ragamuffin  rushes  in,  and,  with  anxious 
gesticulations  towai-d  the  bicycle,  which  I  have  from  necessity  left 
outside,  and  cries  of  "Monsieur,  monsieur,''  plainly  announces  that, 
there  is  something  going  wrong  in  connection  with  the  machine. 
Quickly  going  out  I  find  that,  although  I  left  it  standing  on  the  narrow 


196  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

apology  for  a  sidewalk,  it  is  in  imminent  danger  of  coming  to  grief 
at  the  instance  of  a  broadly  laden  donkey,  which,  with  his  load,  ver- 
itably takes  up  the  whole  narrow  street,  including  the  sidewalks,  as 
he  slowly  picks  his  way  along  through  mud-holes  and  protruding 
cobble-stones.  And  yet  PhiUppoiJolis  has  improved  wonderfully 
since  it  has  nominally  changed  from  a  Turkish  to  a  Christian  city, 
I  am  told  ;  the  Cross  having  in  Philippopolis  not  only  triumphed 
over  the  Crescent,  but  its  influence  is  rapidly  changing  the  condi- 
tion and  appearance  of  the  streets.  There  is  no  doubt  about  the 
imi^rovements,  but  they  are  at  present  most  conspicuous  in  the 
suburbs,  near  the  English  consulate.  It  is  threatening  rain  again 
as  I  am  picking  my  way  through  the  crooked  streets  of  Philipj)opo- 
lis  towai'd  the  Adriauople  road  ;  verily,  I  seem  these  days  to  be 
fully  occupied  in  playing  hide-and-seek  with  the  elements  ;  but  in 
Eoumelia  at  this  season  it  is  a  question  of  either  rain  or  insuffer- 
able heat,  and  perhaps,  after  all,  I  have  reason  to  be  thankful  at  hav- 
ing the  former  to  contend  with  rather  than  the  latter.  Two  thunder- 
storms have  to  be  endured  during  the  forenoon,  and  for  lunch  I 
reach  a  mehana  where,  besides  eggs  roasted  in  the  embers,  and 
fairly  good  bread,  I  am  actually  offered  a  napkin  that  has  been 
used  but  a  few  times — an  evidence  of  civilization  that  is  quite  re- 
freshiiig. 

A  repetition  of  the  rain-dodging  of  the  forenoon  characterizes 
the  afternoon  journey,  and  while  halting  at  a  small  village  the  in- 
habitants actually  take  me  foi'  a  mountebank,  and  among  them  col- 
lect a  handful  of  diminutive  copper  coins  about  the  size  and  thick- 
ness of  a  gold  twenty-five-cent  piece,  and  of  which  it  would  take  at 
least  twenty  to  make  an  Ameiican  cent,  and  offer  them  to  me  for  a 
performance.  What  with  shaking  my  head  for  "  no  ''  and  the  vil- 
lagers naturally  mistaking  the  motion  for  "  yes,"  according  to  their 
own  custom,  I  have  quite  an  interesting  time  of  it  making  them  un- 
derstand that  I  am  not  a  mountebank  travelling  from  one  Roumelian 
village  to  another,  living  on  two  cents'  worth  of  black  sandy  bread 
per  diem,  and  giving  performances  for  about  three  cents  a  time. 

For  my  halting-place  to-night  I  reach  the  village  of  Cauheme, 
in  which  I  find  a  mehana,  where,  although  the  accommodations  are 
of  the  crudest  nature,  the  proprietor  is  a  kindly  disposed  and,  with- 
al, a  thoroughly  honest  individual,  furnishing  me  with  a  reed  mat 
and  a  pillow,  and  making  things  as  comfortable  and  agreeable  as 
possible.     Eating  raw  cucumbers  as  We  eat  apples  or  pears  appears 


BULGARIA,  EOUMELIA,  AND  INTO  TURKEY,  197 

to  be  universal  in  Oriental  Europe  ;  frequently,  througli  Bulgaria 
and  Eoumelia,  I  have  noticed  people,  both  old  and  young,  gnawing 
away  at  a  cucumber  with  the  greatest  relish,  eating  it  rind  and  all, 
without  any  condiments  whatever. 

All  through  Eoumelia  the  gradual  decay  of  the  Crescent  and  the 
corresponding  elevation  of  the  Cross  is  everywhere  evident ;  the 
Christian  element  is  now  predominant,  and  the  Turkish  authorities 
play  but  an  unimportant  part  in  the  government  of  internal  affairs. 
Naturally  enough,  it  does  not  suit  the  Mussulman  to  live  among 
people  whom  his  religion  and  time-honored  custom  have  taught  him 
to  regard  as  inferiors,  the  consequence  being  that  there  has  of  late 
years  been  a  general  folding  of  tents  and  silently  stealing  away  ; 
and  to-day  it  is  no  very  infrequent  occurrence  for  a  whole  Mussul- 
man village  to  pack  up,  bag  and  baggage,  and  move  bodily  to  Asia 
Minor,  where  the  Sultan  gives  them  tracts  of  land  for  settlement. 
Between  the  Christian  and  Mussulman  poi3ulations  of  these  coun- 
tries there  is  naturally  a  certain  amount  of  the  "  six  of  one  and 
half  a  dozen  of  the  other  "  principle,  and  in  certain  regions,  where 
the  Mussulmans  have  dwindled  to  a  small  minority,  the  Christians 
are  ever  prone  to  bestow  upon  them  the  same  treatment  that  the 
Turks  formerly  gave  them.  There  appears  to  be  little  conception 
of  what  we  consider  "  good  manners  "  among  Oriental  villagers, 
and  while  I  am  writing  out  a  few  notes  this  evening,  the  people 
crowding  the  7H e/iana  because  of  my  strange  unaccustomed  presence 
stand  around  watching  every  motion  of  my  pen,  jostling  carelessly 
against  the  bench,  and  commenting  on  things  concerning  me  and 
the  bicycle  with  a  garrulousness  that  makes  it  almost  impossible 
for  me  to  write.  The  women  of  these  Eoumelian  villages  bang 
their  hair,  and  wear  it  in  two  long  braids,  or  plaited  into  a  stream- 
ing white  head-dress  of  some  gauzy  material,  behind ;  huge  silver 
clasps,  ai'tistically  engraved,  that  are  probably  heirlooms,  fasten  a 
belt  around  their  waists ;  and  as  they  walk  along  barefooted, 
strings  of  beads,  bangles,  and  necklaces  of  silver  coins  make  an  in- 
cessant jingling.  The  sky  clears  and  the  moon  shines  forth  re- 
splendently  ere  I  stretch  myself  on  my  rude  couch  to-night,  and  the 
sun  rising  bright  nest  morning  would  seem  to  indicate  fair  weather 
at  last ;  an  indication  that  proves  iUusory,  however,  before  the  day 
is  over. 

At  Khaskhor,  some  fifteen  kilometres  from  Cauheme,  I  am  able 
to  obtain  my  favorite  breakfast  of  bread,  milk,  and  fruit,  and  while 


198  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

I  am  in-doors  eating  it  a  stalwart  Turk  considerately  mounts  guard 
over  the  bicycle,  resolutely  keeping  the  meddlesome  crowd  at  bay 
until  I  get  through  eating.  The  roads  this  morning,  though  hUly, 
are  fairly  smooth,  and  about  eleven  o'clock  I  reach  Hermouli,  the 
last  town  in  Eoumelia,  where,  besides  being  required  to  produce 
my  passport,  I  am  requested  by  a  pompous  lieutenant  of  gendar- 
merie to  produce  my  permit  for  carrying  a  revolver,  the  first  time  I 
have  been  thus  molested  in  Europe.  Upon  explaining,  as  best  I  can, 
that  I  have  no  such  permit,  and  that  for  a  voyageur  permission  is 
not  necessary  (something  about  which  I  am  in  no  way  so  certain, 
however,  as  my  words  would  seem  to  indicate),  I  am  politely  dis- 
armed, and  conducted  to  a  guard-room  in  the  police-barracks,  and 
for  some  twenty  minutes  am  favored  with  the  exclusive  society 
of  a  uniformed  guard  and  the  unhappy  reflections  of  a  probable 
heavy  fine,  if  not  imprisonment.  I  am  inclined  to  think  afterward 
that  in  arresting  and  detaining  me  the  officer  was  simply  showing 
off  his  authority  a  little  to  his  fellow-Hermoulites,  clustered  about 
me  and  the  bicycle,  for,  at  the  expiration  of  half  an  hour,  my  revol- 
ver and  passport  are  handed  back  to  me,  and  without  further  in- 
quiries or  explanations  I  am  allowed  to  depart  in  peace. 

As  though  in  wilful  aggravation  of  the  case,  a  village  of  gypsies 
have  their  tents  pitched  and  their  donkeys  grazing  in  the  last  Mo- 
hammedan cemetery  I  see  ere  passing  over  the  Roumelian  border 
into  Turkey  proper,  where,  at  the  very  first  village,  the  general  as- 
pect of  religious  afiairs  changes,  as  though  its  proximity  to  the 
border  should  render  rigid  distinctions  desirable.  Instead  of  the 
crumbling  walls  and  tottering  minarets,  a  group  of  closely  veiled 
women  are  observed  praying  outside  a  well-preserved  mosque,  and 
praj'ing  sincerely  too,  since  not  even  my  never-before-seen  presence 
and  the  attention-commanding  bicycle  are  sufficient  to  win  their 
attention  for  a  moment  from  their  devotions,  albeit  those  I  meet  on 
the  road  peer  curiously  enough  from  between  the  folds  of  their 
muslin  yashmaks.  I  am  worrying  along  to  day  in  the  face  of  a  most 
discouraging  head-wind,  and  the  roads,  though  mostly  ridable,  are 
none  of  the  best.  For  much  of  the  way  there  is  a  macadamized 
road  that,  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  Ottoman  dominion,  was  doubt- 
less a  splendid  highway,  but  now  weeds  and  thistles,  evidences  of 
decaying  traffic  and  of  the  proximity  of  the  Eoumelian  railway,  are 
growing  in  the  centre,  and  holes  and  impassable  places  make  cyclin"- 
a  necessarily  wide-awake  performance. 


BULGARIA,  EOUMELIA,  AND   INTO  TURKEY.  199 

Mustapha  Pasha  is  the  first  Turkish  town  of  any  importance  I 
come  to,  and  here  again  my  much-required  "  passaporte  "  has  to  be 
exhibited  ;  but  the  police-ofScers  of  Mustapha  Pasha  seem  to  be 
exceptionally  intelligent  and  quite  agreeable  fellows.  My  revolver 
is  in  plain  view,  in  its  accustomed  place  ;  but  they  pay  no  sort  of 
attention  to  it,  neither  do  they  ask  me  a  whole  rigmarole  of  ques- 
tions about  my  linguistic  accomplishments,  whither  I  am  going, 
■whence  I  came,  etc.,  but  simply  glance  at  my  passport,  as  though 
its  examination  were  a  matter  of  small  congequence  anyhow,  shake 
hands,  and  smihngly  request  me  to  let  them  see  me  ride. 

It  begins  to  rain  soon  after  I  leave  Mustapha  Pasha,  forcing  me 
to  take  refuge  in  a  convenient  culvert  beneath  the  road.  I  have 
been  under  this  shelter  but  a  few  minutes  when  I  am  favored  with 
the  company  of  three  swarthy  Turks,  who,  riding  toward  Mustapha 
Pasha  on  horseback,  have  sought  the  same  shelter.  These  people 
straightway  express  their  astonishment  at  finding  me  and  the  bicy- 
cle under  the  culvert,  by  first  commenting  among  themselves  ;  then 
they  turn  a  battery  of  Turkish  interrogations  upon  my  devoted 
head,  nearly  driving  me  out  of  my  senses  ere  I  escape.  They  are, 
of  course,  quite  unintelligible  to  me  ;  for  if  one  of  them  asks  a 
question  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders  only  causes  him  to  repeat  the 
same  over  and  over  again,  each  time  a  little  louder  and  a  little 
more  deliberate.  Sometimes  they  are  all  three  propounding  ques- 
tions and  emphasizing  them  at  the  same  time,  until  I  begin  to  think 
that  there  is  a  plot  to  talk  me  to  death  and  confiscate  whatever  val- 
uables I  have  about  me.  They  all  three  have  long  knives  in  their 
waistbands,  and,  instead  of  pointing  out  the  mechanism  of  the 
bicycle  to  each  other  with  the  finger,  like  civilized  people,  they  use 
these  long,  wicked-looking  knives  for  the  purpose.  They  may  be  a 
coterie  of  heavy  villains  for  anything  I  know  to  the  contrary,  or  am 
able  to  judge  from  their  general  appearance,  and  in  view  of  the  ap- 
parent disadvantage  of  one  against  three  in  such  cramped  quarters, 
I  avoid  their  immediate  society  as  much  a's  possible  by  edging  off  to 
one  end  of  the  culvert.  They  are  probably  honest  enough,  but  as 
their  stock  of  interrogations  seems  inexhaustible,  at  the  end  of  half 
an  hour  I  conclude  to  face  the  elements  and  take  my  chances  of 
finding  some  other  shelter  farther  ahead  rather  than  endure  their 
vociferous  onslaughts  any  longer.  They  all  three  come  out  to  see 
what  is  going  to  happen,  and  I  am  not  ashamed  to  admit  that  I 
stand  tinkering  around  the  bicycle  in  the  pelting  rain  longer  than 


200 


FKOM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEIlEEAW. 


is  necessary  Ijefore  mounting,  in  order  to  keep  them  out  in  it  and 
get  them  wet  through,  if  possible,  in  revenge  for  having  practically 
ousted  me  from  the  culvert,  and  since  I  have  a  water-proof,  and 
they  have  nothing  of  the  sort,  I  partially  succeed  in  my  plans. 


Turkish  Amenities. 


The  road  is  the  same  ancient  and  neglected  macadam,  but  be- 
tween Mustapha  Pasha  and  Adrianople  they  either  make  some  pre- 
tence of  keeping  it  in  repair,  or  else  the  traffic  is  sufficient  to  keep 


BULGARIA,  EOUMELIA,   AND   IKTO   TURKEY.  201 

down  the  weeds,  and  I  am  able  to  mount  and  ride  in  spite  of  the  down- 
pour. After  riding  about  two  miles  I  come  to  another  culvert,  in 
which  I  deem  it  advisable  to  take  shelter.  Here,  also,  I  find  myself 
honored  with  company,  but  this  time  it  is  a  lone  cow-herder,  who 
is  either  too  dull  and  stupid  to  do  anything  but  stare  alternately 
at  me  and  the  bicycle,  or  else  is  deaf  and  dumb,  and  my  recent  ex- 
perience makes  me  cautious  about  tempting  him  to  use  his  tongue. 
I  am  forced  by  the  rain  to  remain  cramped  up  in  this  last  narrow 
culvert  until  neai-ly  dark,  and  then  trundle  along  through  an  area 
of  stones  and  water-holes  toward  Adrianople,  which  city  lies  I  know 
not  how  far  to  the  southeast.  While  trundling  along  through  the 
darkness,  in  the  hope  of  reaching  a  village  or  mehana,  I  observe  a 
rocket  shoot  skyward  in  the  distance  ahead,  and  surmise  that  it 
indicates  the  whereabout  of  Adriauople  ;  but  it  is  plainly  many  a 
weary  mile  ahead  ;  the  road  cannot  be  ridden  by  the  uncertain  light 
of  a  cloud-veiled  moon,  and  I  have  been  forging  ahead,  over  rough 
•ways  leading  through  an  undulating  country,  and  most  of  the  day 
against  a  strong  head-wind,  since  early  dawn.  By  ten  o'clock  I 
happily  arrive  at  a  section  of  country  that  has  not  been  favored  by 
the  afternoon  rain,  and,  no  mehana  making  its  appearance,  I  con- 
clude to  sup  off  the  cold,  cheerless  memories  of  the  black  bread 
and  half-ripe  pears  eaten  for  dinner  at  a  small  village,  and  crawl 
beneath  some  wild  prune-bushes  for  the  night. 

A  few  miles  wheeling  over  very  fair  roads,  next  morning,  brings 
me  into  Adrianople,  where,  at  the  Hotel  Constantinople,  I  obtain 
an  excellent  breakfast  of  roast  lamb,  this  being  the  only  well- 
cooked  piece  of  meat  I  have  eaten  since  leaving  Nisch.  It  has 
rained  every  day  without  exception  since  it  delayed  me  over  Sun- 
day at  Bela  Palanka,  and  this  morning  it  begins  while  I  am  eating 
breakfast,  and  continues  a  drenching  downpour  for  over  an  hour. 
While  waiting  to  see  what  the  weather  is  coming  to,  -I  wander 
around  the  crooked  and  mystifying  streets,  watching  the  animated 
scenes  about  the  bazaaxs,  and  try  my  best  to  pick  up  some  knowl- 
edge of  the  value  of  the  different  coins,  for  I  have  had  to  deal  with 
a  bewildering  mixture  of  late,  and  once  again  there  is  a  complete 
change.  Medjidis,  cheriks,  piastres,  and  paras  now  take  the 
place  of  Serb  francs,  Bulgar  francs,  and  a  bewildering  hst  of 
nickel  and  copper  pieces,  down  to  one  that  I  should  think  would 
scarcely  purchase  a  wooden  toothpick.  The  first  named  is  a  large 
silver  coin  worth  four  and  a  half  francs  ;  the  cherik  might  be  called 


202  FEOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHEKAN. 

a  quarter  dollar ;  while  piastres  and  paras  are  tokens,  the  former 
about  five  cents  and  the  latter  requiring  about  nine  to  make  one 
cent.  There  are  no  copper  coins  in  Turkey  proper,  the  smaller 
coins  being  what  is  called  "  metallic  money,''  a  composition  of  cop- 
per and  silver,  varying  in  value  from  a  five-para  piece  to  five 
piastres. 

The  AdrianopoUtans,  drawn  to  the  hotel  by  the  magnetism  of 
the  bicycle,  are  bound  to  see  me  ride  whether  or  no,  and  in  their 
quite  natural  ignorance  of  its  character,  they  request  me  to  per- 
form in  the  small,  roughly-paved  court-yard  of  the  hotel,  and  all 
sorts  of  impossible  places.  I  shake  my  head  in  disapproval  and 
explanation  of  the  impracticability  of  granting  their  request,  but 
unfortunately  Adrianople  is  within  the  circle  where  a  shake  of  the 
head  is  understood  to  mean  "yes,  certainly  ;  "  and  the  happy  crowd 
range  around  a  ridiculously  small  space,  and  smiling  approvingly  at 
what  they  consider  my  wUlingness  to  oblige,  motion  for  me  to 
come  ahead.  An  explanation  seems  really  out  of  the  question  after 
this,  and  I  conclude  that  the  quickest  and  simplest  way  of  satisfy- 
ing everybody  is  to  demonstrate  my  vidllingness  by  mounting  and 
wabbling  along,  if  only  for  a  few  paces,  which  I  accordingly  do 
beneath  a  hack  shed,  at  the  imminent  risk  of  knocking  my  brains 
out  against  beams  and  rafters. 

At  eleven  o'clock  I  decide  to  make  a  start,  I  and  the  bicycle 
being  the  focus  of  attraction  for  a  most  undignified  mob  as  I 
trundle  through  the  muddy  streets  toward  the  suburbs.  Arriving 
at  a  street  where  it  is  possible  to  mount  and  ride  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, I  do  this  in  the  hope  of  satisfying  the  curiosity  of  the 
crowd,  and  being  permitted  to  leave  the  city  in  comparative  peace 
and  privacy  ;  but  the  hope  proves  a  vain  one,  for  only  the  respect- 
able portion  of  the  crowd  disperses,  leaving  me,  solitary  and  alone, 
among  a  howling  mob  of  the  rag,  tag,  and  bobtail  of  Adrianople, 
who  follow  noisily  along,  vociferously  yelling  for  me  to  "  bin  !  bin  !  " 
(mount,  mount),  and  "  chu  I  chu !  "  (ride,  ride)  along  the  really 
unridable  streets.  This  is  the  worst  crowd  I  have  encountered  on 
the  entire  journey  across  two  continents,  and,  ajriving  at  a  street 
where  the  prospect  ahead  looks  comparatively  promising,  I  mount, 
and  wheel  forward  with  a  view  of  outdistancing  them  if  possible  ; 
but  a  ride  of  over  a  hundred  yards  without  dismounting  would  be 
an  exceptional  performance  in  Adrianople  after  a  rain,  and  I  soon 
find  that  I  have  made  a  mistake  in  attempting  it,  for,  as  I  mount, 


BULGARIA,  KOXJMELIA,  AND  INTO  TURKEY.  203 

the  mob  grows  fairly  wild  and  riotous  with  excitement,  flinging  their 
red  fezes  at  the  wheels,  rushing  up  behind  and  giving  the  bicycle 
smcart  pushes  forward,  in  their  eagerness  to  see  it  go  faster,  and 
more  than  one  stone  comes  bounding  along  the  street,  wantonly 
flung  by  some  young  savage  unable  to  contain  himself.  I  quickly 
decide  upon  allaying  the  excitement  by  dismounting,  and  trundling 
until  the  mobs  gets  tired  of  following,  whatever  the  distance. 

This  movement  scarcely  meets  with  the  approval  of  the  unruly 
crowd,  however,  and  several  come  forward  and  exhibit  ten-para  pieces 
as  an  inducement  for  me  to  ride  again,  while  overgrown  gamins 
swarm  around  me,  and,  straddling  the  middle  and  index  fingers  of 
their  right  hands  over  their  left,  to  illustrate  and  emphasize  their 
meaning,  they  clamorously  cry,  "bin!  bin!  chu!  chu  !  monsieur! 
chu  !  chu ! "  as  well  as  much  other  persuasive  talk,  which,  if  one 
could  understand,  would  probably  be  found  to  mean  in  substance, 
that,  although  it  is  the  time-honored  custom  and  privilege  of 
Adrianople  mobs  to  fling  stones  and  similar  compliments  at  such 
unbelievers  from  the  outer  world  as  come  among  them  in  a  con- 
spicuous manner,  they  will  considerately  forego  their  privileges 
this  time,  if  I  will  only  "  bin  !  bin  !  "  and  "chu!  chu  !  "  The  as- 
pect of  harmless  mischievousness  that  would  characterize  a  crowd 
of  Occidental  youths  on  a  similar  occasion  is  entirely  wanting  here, 
their  faces  wearing  the  determined  expression  of  people  in  dead 
earnest  about  grasping  the  only  opportunity  of  a  lifetime.  Eespect- 
able  Turks  stand  on  the  sidewalk  and  eye  the  bicycle  curiously,  but 
they  regard  my  evident  annoyance  at  being  followed  by  a  mob  like 
this  with  supreme  indifference,  as  does  also  a  passing  gendarme, 
whom  I  halt,  and  motion  my  disapproval  of  the  proceedings.  Like 
the  civilians,  he  pays  no  sort  of  attention,  but  fixes  a  curious  stare 
on  the  bicycle,  and  asks  something,  the  import  of  which  will  to  me 
forever  remain  a  mystery. 

Once  well  out  of  the  city  the  road  is  quite  good  for  several 
kilometres,  and  I  am  favored  with  a  unanimous  outburst  of  ap- 
proval from  a  rough  crowd  at  a  suburban  mehana,  because  of 
outdistancing  a  horseman  who  rides  out  from  among  them  to 
overtake  me.  At  Adrianople  my  road  leaves  the  Maritza  Valley 
and  leads  across  the  undulating  uplands  of  the  Adrianople  Plains, 
hiUy,  and  for  most  of  the  way  of  inferior  surface.  Eeaching  the 
village  of  Hafsa,  soon  after  noon,  I  am  fairly  taken  possession  of 
by  a  crowd  of  turbaned  and  fezed  Hafsaites  and  soldiers  wearing 


204  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN, 

the  coarse  blue  uniform  of  the  Turkish  regulars,  and  given  not 
one  moment's  escape  from  "bin!  bin /"until  I  consent  to  parade 
my  modest  capabilities  with  the  wheel  by  going  back  and  foi-th 
along  a  ridable  section  of  the  main  street.  The  population  is 
delighted.  Solid  old  Turks  pat  me  on  the  back  approvingly,  and 
the  proprietor  of  the  mehana  fairly  hauls  me  and  the  bicycle  into 
his  establishment.  This  person  is  quite  befuddled  with  mastic, 
which  makes  him  inclined  to  be  tyrannical  and  officious ;  and 
several  times  within  the  hour,  while  I  wait  for  the  never-failing 
thunder-shower  to  subside,  he  peremptorily  dismisses  both  civil- 
ians and  military  out  of  the  mehana  yard ;  but  the  crowd  always 
filters  back  again  in  less  than  two  minutes.  Once,  while  eating 
dinner,  I  look  out  of  the  window  and  find  the  bicycle  has  disap- 
peared. Hurrying  out,  I  meet  the  boozy  proprietor  and  another 
individual  making  their  way  with  alarming  unsteadiness  up  a  steep 
stairway,  carrying  the  machine  between  them  to  an  up-stairs  room, 
where  the  people  will  have  no  j)ossible  chance  of  seeing  it.  Two 
minutes  afterward  his  same  whimsical  and  capricious  disposition 
impels  him  to  politely  remove  the  eatables  from  before  me,  and 
with  the  manners  of  a  showman,  he  gently  leads  me  away  from  the 
table,  and  requests  me  to  ride  again  for  the  benefit  of  the  very 
crowd  he  had,  but  two  minutes  since,  arbitrarily  denied  the  privilege 
of  even  looking  at  the  bicycle.  Nothing  would  be  more  natural 
than  to  refuse  to  ride  under  these  circumstances  ;  but  the  crowd 
looks  so  gratified  at  the  proprietor's  sudden  and  unaccountable 
change  of  front,  that  I  deem  it  advisable,  in  the  interest  of  being 
permitted  to  finish  my  meal  in  peace,  to  take  another  short  spin  ; 
moreover,  it  is  always  best  to  swallow  such  little  annoyances  in 
good  part. 

My  route  to-day  is  a  continuation  of  the  abandoned  macadam 
road,  the  weed-covered  stones  of  which  I  have  frequently  found 
acceptable  in  tiding  me  over  places  where  the  ordinary  dirt  road 
was  deep  with  mud.  la  spite  of  its  long-neglected  condition, 
occasional  ridable  stretches  are  encountered,  but  every  bridge 
and  culvert  has  been  destroyed,  and  an  honest  shepherd,  not  fur 
from  Hafsa,  who  from  a  neighboring  knoll  observes  me  wheel- 
ing down  a  long  declivity  toward  one  of  these  uncovered  water- 
ways, nearly  shouts  himself  hoarse,  and  gesticulates  most  franti- 
cally in  an  effort  to  attract  my  attention  to  the  danger  ahead. 
Soon    after   this  I   am    the  innocent  cause   of   two  small   pack- 


BULGARIA,  KOUMELIA,  AND   INTO   TURKEY.  205 

mules,  heavily  laden  with  merchandise,  attempting  to  bolt  from 
their  driver,  who  is  walking  behind.  One  of  them  actually  suc- 
cee.is  in  escaping,  and,  although  his  pack  is  too  heavy  to  admit  of 
running  at  any  speed,  he  goes  awkwardly  jogging  across  the  rolling 
plains,  as  though  uncertain  in  his  own  mind  of  whether  he  is  act- 
ing sensibly  or  not ;  but  his  companion  in  pack-slavery  is  less  for- 
tunate, since  he  tumbles  into  a  gully,  bringing  up  flat  on  his  broad 
and  top-heavy  pack  with  his  legs  frantically  pawing  the  air.  Stop- 
ping to  assist  the  driver  in  getting  the  collapsed  mule  on  his  feet 
again,  this  individual  demands  damages  for  the  accident ;  so  I  judge, 
at  least,  from  the  frequency  of  the  word  "  medjedie,"  as  he  angrily, 
yet  ruefully,  points  to  the  mud-begrimed  pack  and  unhappy,  yet 
withal  laughter-jDrovokiug,  attitude  of  the  mule  ;  but  I  utterly  fail 
to  see  any  reasonable  connection  between  the  uncalled-for  scariness 
of  his  mules  and  the  contents  of  my  pocket-book,  especially  since  I 
was  riding  along  the  Sultan's  ancient  and  deserted  macadam,  while 
he  and  his  mules  were  patronizing  a  separate  and  distinct  dirt-road 
alongside.  As  he  seems  far  more  concerned  about  obtaining  a 
money  satisfaction  from  me  than  the  rescue  of  the  mule  from  his 
topsy-tur-s'y  position,  I  feel  perfectly  justified,  after  several  times 
indicating  my  willingness  to  assist  him,  in  leaving  him  and  pro- 
ceeding on  my  way. 

The  Adrianople  plains  are  a  dreary  expanse  of  undulating  graz- 
ing-land,  traversed  by  small  sloughs  and  their  adjacent  cultivated 
areas.  Along  this  route  it  is  without  trees,  and  the  villages  one 
comes  to  at  intervals  of  eight  or  ten  miles  are  shapeless  clusters  of 
mud,  straw-thatched  huts,  out  of  the  midst  of  which,  perchance, 
rises  the  tapering  minaret  of  a  small  mosque,  this  minaret  being, 
of  course,  the  first  indication  of  a  village  in  the  distance.  Between 
Adrianople  and  Eski  Baba,  the  town'  I  reach  for  the  night,  are 
three  villages,  in  one  of  which  I  apjsroach  a  Turkish  private  house 
for  a  drink  of  water,  and  sui-prise  the  women  with  faces  unveiled. 
Upon  seeing  my  countenance  peering  in  the  doorway  they  one 
and  all  give  utterance  to  little  screams  of  dismay,  and  dart  like 
frightened  fawns  into  an  adjoining  room.  When  the  men  appear, 
to  see  what  is  up,  they  show  no  signs  of  resentment  at  my  abrupt 
intrusion,  but  one  of  them  follows  the  women  into  the  room,  and 
loud,  angry  words  seem  to  indicate  that  they  are  being  soundly 
berated  for  allowing  themselves  to  be  thus  caught.  This  does  not 
prevent  the  women  from  reappearing  the  next  minute,  however, 


206  FROM   SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

with  their  faces  veiled  behind  the  orthodox  yashmak,  and  through 
its  one  permissible  opening  satisfying  their  feminine  curiosity  by 
critically  surveying  me  and  my  strange  vehicle. 

Four  men  follow  me  on  horseback  out  of  this  village,  presum- 
ably to  see  what  use  I  make  of  the  machine ;  at  least  I  cannot 
otherwise  account  for  the  honor  of  their  unpleasantly  close  atten- 
tions— close,  inasmuch  as  they  keep  their  horses'  noses  almost 
against  my  back,  in  spite  of  sundry  subterfuges  to  shake  them  off. 
When  I  stop  they  do  likewise,  and  when  I  start  again  they  delib- 
erately follow,  altogether  too  near  to  be  comfortable.  They  are, 
all  four,  rough-looking  peasants,  and  their  object  is  quite  unac- 
countable, unless  they  are  doing  it  for  "pure  cussedness,"  or  per- 
haps with  some  vague  idea  of  provoking  me  into  doing  something 
that  would  offer  them  the  excuse  of  attacking  and  robbing  me. 
The  road  is  sui5Sciently  lonely  to  invite  some  such  attention.  If 
they  are  only  following  me  to  see  what  I  do  with  the  bicycle,  they 
return  but  little  enlightened,  since  they  see  nothing  but  trundling 
and  an  occasional  scraping  off  of  mud.  At  the  end  of  about  two 
miles,  whatever  their  object,  they  give  it  up. 

Several  showers  occur  during  the  afternoon,  and  the  distance 
travelled  has  been  short  and  unsatisfactory,  when  just  before  dai'k 
I  arrive  at  Eski  Baba,  where  I  am  agreeably  surprised  to  find  a 
mehana,  the  proprietor  of  which  is  a  reasonably  mannered  individ- 
ual. Since  getting  into  Turkey  proper,  reasonably  mannered  peo- 
ple have  seemed  wonderfully  scarce,  the  majority  seeming  to  be 
most  boisterous  and  headstrong.  Next  to  the  bicycle  the  Turks  of 
these  interior  villages  seem  to  exercise  their  minds  the  most  con- 
cerning whether  I  have  a  passport ;  as  I  enter  Eski  Baba ;  a  gendarme 
standing  at  the  police-barrack  gates  shouts  after  me  to  halt  and 
produce  "  passaporte."  Exhibiting  my  passport  at  almost  every 
village  is  getting  monotonous,  and,  as  I  am  going  to  remain  here  at 
least  overnight,  I  ignore  the  gendarme's  challenge  and  wheel  on  to 
the  mehana.  Two  gendarmes  are  soon  on  the  spot,  inquiring  if  I 
have  a  "  passaporte  ;  "  but,  upon  learning  that  I  am  going  no  far- 
ther to-day,  they  do  not  take  the  trouble  to  examine  it,  the  average 
Turkish  official  religiously  believing  in  never  doing  anything  to-day 
that  can  be  put  off  till  to-morrow. 

The  natives  of  a  Turkish  interior  village  are  not  over-intimate 
with  newspapers,  and  are  in  consequence  profoundly  ignorant, 
having  little  conception  of  anything  save  what  they  have  been  fa- 


BULGARIA,  EOTJMELIA,  AND   INTO  TURKEY.  207 

miliar  with  and  surrounded  by  all  tlieir  lives,  and  the  appearance 
of  the  bicycle  is  indeed  a  strange  visitation,  something  entirely  be- 
yond their  comprehension.  The  mehana  is  crowded  by  a  wildly 
gesticulating  and  loudly  commenting  and  arguing  crowd  of  Turks 
and  Christians  all  the  evening.  Although  there  seems  to  be  quite 
a  large  proportion  of  native  unbelievers  in  Eski  Baba  there  is  not 
a  single  female  visible  on  the  streets  this  evening  ;  and  from  obser- 
vations next  day  I  judge  it  to  be  a  conservative  Mussulman  village, 
where  the  Turkish  women,  besides  keeping  themselves  veiled  with 
orthodox  strictness,  seldom  go  abroad,  and  the  women  who  are  not 
Mohammedan,  imbibing  something  of  the  retiring  spirit  of  the 
dominant  race,  also  keep  themselves  well  in  the  background. 

A  round  score  of  dogs,  great  and  small,  and  in  all  possible  condi- 
tions of  miserableness,  congregate  in  the  main  street  of  Eski  Baba 
at  eventide,  waiting  with  hungry-eyed  expectancy  for  any  morsel  of 
food  or  offal  that  may  peradventure  find  its  way  within  their  reach. 
The  Turks,  to  their  credit  be  it  said,  never  abuse  dogs  ;  but  every 
male  "  Christian  "  in  Eski  Baba  seems  to  consider  himself  in  duty 
bound  to  kick  or  throw  a  stone  at  one,  and  scarcely  a  minute 
passes  during  the  whole  evening  without  the  yelp  of  some  unfortu- 
nate cur.  These  people  seem  to  enjoy  a  dog's  sufferings  ;  and  one 
soulless  peasant,  who  in  the  course  of  the  evening  kicks  a  half- 
starved  cur  so  savagely  that  the  poor  animal  goes  into  a  fit,  and, 
after  staggering  and  rolling  all  over  the  street,  falls  down  as  though 
really  dead,  is  the  hero  of  admiring  comments  from  the  crowd,  who 
watch  the  creature's  suffeiings  with  delight.  Seeing  who  can  get 
the  most  telling  kicks  at  the  dogs  seems  to  be  the  regular  evening's 
pastime  among  the  male  population  of  Eski  Baba  unbelievers,  and 
everybody  seems  interested  and  delighted  when  some  unfortunate 
animal  comes  in  for  an  unusually  severe  visitation. 

A  rush  mat  on  the  floor  of  the  stable  is  my  bed  to-night,  with 
a  dozen  unlikely  looking  natives,  to  avoid  the  close  companionship 
of  whom  I  take  up  my  position  in  dangerous  proximity  to  a  donkey's 
hind  legs,  and  not  six  feet  from  where  the  same  animal's  progeny  is 
stretched  out  with  all  the  abandon  of  extreme  youth.  Precious  lit- 
tle sleep  is  obtained,  for  fleas  innumerable  take  liberties  with  my 
person.  A  flourishing  colony  of  swallows  inhabiting  the  roof  keeps 
up  an  incessant  twittering,  and  toward  dayhght  two  muezzins,  one 
on  the  minaret  of  each  of  the  two  mosques  near  by,  begin  calling  the 
faithful  to  prayer,  and  howling  "Allah  !  Allah  !  "  with  the  voices  of 


208  FEOM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

men  bent  on  conscientiously  doing  their  duty  by  making  themselves 
heard  by  every  Mussulman  for  at  least  a  mile  around,  robbing  me 
of  even  the  short  hour  of  repose  that  usually  follows  a  sleepless 
night. 

It  is  raining  heavily  again  on  Sunday  morning — in  fact,  the  last 
week  has  been  about  the  rainiest  that  I  ever  saw  outside  of  Eng- 
land— and  considering  the  state  of  the  roads  south  of  Eski  Baba, 
the  prospects  look  favorable  for  a  Sunday's  experience  in  an  inte- 
rior Turkish  village.  Men  are  solemnly  squatting  around  the 
benches  of  the  mehana,  smoking  nargilehs  and  sipping  tiny  cups  of 
thick  black  coffee,  and  they  look  on  in  wonder  while  I  devour  a  sub- 
stantial breakfast ;  but  whether  it  is  the  novelty  of  seeing  a  'cycler 
feed,  or  the  novelty  of  seeing  anybody  eat  as  I  am  doing,  thus  early 
in  the  morning,  I  am  unable  to  say  ;  for  no  one  else  seems  to  partake 
of  much  solid  food  until  about  noontide.  All  the  morning  long, 
people  swarming  around  are  importuning  me  with,  "  Bin,  bin,  bin, 
monsieur  !  "  The  bicycle  is  locked  up  in  a  rear  chamber,  and  thrice 
I  accommodatingly  fetch  it  out  and  endeavor  to  appease  their  curios- 
ity by  riding  along  a  hundred-yard  stretch  of  smooth  road  in  the  rear 
of  the  mehana  ;  but  their  importunities  never  for  a  moment  cease. 
Finally  the  annoyance  becomes  so  unbearable  that  the  proprietor 
takes  pity  on  my  harassed  head,  and,  after  talking  quite  angrily  to 
the  crowd,  locks  me  up  in  the  same  room  with  the  bicycle. 

Iron  bars  guard  the  rear  windows  of  the  houses  at  Eski  Baba, 
and  ere  I  am  fairly  stretched  out  on  my  mat  several  swarthy  faces 
appear  at  the  bars,  and  several  voices  simultaneously  join  in  the 
dread  chorus  of,  "Bin,  bin,  bin,  monsieu?' I  bin,  bin!"  compelling 
me  to  close,  in  the  middle  of  a  hot  day — the  rain  having  ceased 
about  ten  o'clock — the  one  small  avenue  of  ventilation  in  the  stuffy 
little  room.  A  moment's  privacy  is  entirely  out  of  the  question,  for, 
even  with  the  window  closed,  faces  are  constantly  peering  in,  eager 
to  catch  even  the  smallest  glimpse  of  either  me  or  the  bicycle.  Fate 
is  also  against  me  to-day,  plainly  enough,  for  ere  I  have  been  im- 
prisoned in  the  room  an  hour  the  door  is  unlocked  to  admit  the 
mulazim  (lieutenant  of  gendarmes),  and  two  of  his  subordinates, 
with  long  cavalry  swords  dangling  about  their  legs,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  Turkish  police. 

In  addition  to  puzzling  their  sluggish  brains  about  my  passport, 
my  strange  means  of  locomotion,  and  my  affairs  generally,  they 
have  now,  it  seems,  exercised  their  minds  up  to  the  jjoint  that  they 


BULGARIA,  EOUMELIA,   AND   INTO   TURKEY.  209 

ought  to  interfere  in  the  matter  of  my  revolver.  But  first  of  all 
they  want  to  see  my  wonderful  performance  of  riding  a  thing  that 
cannot  stand  alone.  After  I  have  favored  the  gendarmes  and  the 
assembled  crowd  by  riding  once  again,  they  return  the  compliment 
by  tenderly  escorting  me  down  to  police  headquarters,  where,  after 
spending  an  hour  or  so  in  examining  my  passport,  they  place  that 
document  and  my  revolver  in  their  strong  box,  and  lackadaisically 
wave  me  adieu.  Upon  returning  to  the  mehma,  I  find  a  corpulent 
pasha  and  a  number  of  particularly  influential  Turks  awaiting  my 
reajDpearance,  with  the  same  diabolical  object  of  asking  me  to  "  bin  ! 
bin  !  "  Soon  afterward  come  the  two  Mohammedan  priests,  with 
the  same  request ;  and  certainly  not  less  than  half  a  dozen  times 
during  the  afternoon  do  I  bring  out  the  bicycle  and  ride,  in  defer- 
ence to  the  insatiable  curiosity  of  the  sure  enough  "unspeakable  " 
Turk  ;  and  every  sepai-ate  time  my  audience  consists  not  only  of 
the  people  personally  making  the  request,  but  of  the  whole  gesticu- 
lating male  population.  The  j)roprietor  of  the  inehana  kindly  takes 
upon  himself  the  of&ce  of  apprising  me  when  my  visitors  are  people 
of  importance,  by  going  through  the  pantomime  of  swelling  his 
features  and  form  up  to  a  size  corresponding  in  proportion  relative 
to  their  importance,  the  process  of  inflation  in  the  case  of  the  pasha 
being  quite  a  wonderful  performance  for  a  man  who  is  not  a  pro- 
fessional contortionist. 

Once  during  the  afternoon  I  attempt  to  write,  but  I  might  as 
well  attempt  to  fly,  for  the  mehana  is  crowded  with  people  who 
plainly  have  not  the  slightest  conception  of  the  proprieties.  Finally 
a  fez  is  wantonly  flung,  by  an  extra-enterprising  youth,  at  my  ink- 
bottle,  knocking  it  over,  and  but  for  its  being  a  handy  contrivance, 
out  of  which  the  ink  wiU  not  spill,  it  would  have  made  a  mess  of 
my  notes.  Seeing  the  uselessness  of  trying  to  write,  I  meander 
forth,  and  into  the  leading  mosque,  and  without  removing  my 
shoes,  tread  its  sacred  floor  for  several  minutes,  and  stand  listening 
to  several  devout  Mussulmans  reciting  the  Koran  aloud,  for,  be  it 
known,  the  great  fast  of  Eamadan  has  begun,  and  fasting  and  prayer 
is  now  the  faithful  Mussulman's  daily  lot  for  thirty  days,  his  religion 
forbidding  him  either  eating  or  drinking  from  early  morn  tUl  close 
of  day.  After  looking  about  the  interior,  I  ascend  the  steep  spi- 
ral stairway  up  to  the  minaret  balcony  whence  the  muezzin  calls 
the  faithful  to  prayer  five  times  a  day.  As  I  pop  my  head  out 
through  the  little  opening  leading  to  the  balcony,  I  am  slightly 
14 


210 


FROM  SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


taken  aback  by  finding  that  small  footway  already  occupied  by  the 
muezzin,  and  it  is  a  fair  question  as  to  whether  the  muezzin's 
astonishment  at  seeing  my  white  helmet  appear  through  the 
opening  is  greater,  or  mine  at  finding  him  already  in  possession. 
However,  I  brazen  it  out  by  joining  him,  and  he,  like  a  sensible 


On  the  Minaret  with  the  Muezzin, 

man,  goes  about  his  business  just  the  same  as  if  nobody  were 
about.  The  people  down  in  the  streets  look  curiously  up  and  call 
one  another's  attention  to  the  unaccustomed  sight  of  a  white-helmeted 
'cycler  and  a  muezzin  upon  the  minaret  together  ;  but  the  fact  that 
I  am  not  interfered  with  in  any  way  goes  far  to  prove  that  the  Mus- 


BDLGAKIA,   KOUMELIA,   AND   INTO   TUKKEY.  211 

sulman  fanaticism,  that  we  have  aU  heard  and  read  about  so  often, 
has  welluigh  flickered  out  in  European  Turkey  ;  moreover,  I  think 
the  Eski  Babaus  would  allow  me  to  do  anything,  in  order  to  place 
me  under  obligations  to  "  bin  !  bin  !  "  whenever  they  ask  me. 

At  nine  o'clock  I  begin  to  grow  a  trifle  uneasy  about  the  fate  of 
my  passport  and  revolver,  and,  proceeding  to  the  police-barracks, 
formally  demand  their  return.  Nothing  has  apparently  been  done 
concerning  either  one  or  the  other  since  they  were  taken  from  me, 
for  the  mulazim,  who  is  lounging  on  a  divan  smoking  cigarettes,  pro- 
duces them  from  the  same  receptacle  he  consigned  them  to  this 
afternoon,  and  lays  them  before  him,  clearly  as  mystified  and  per- 
plexed as  ever  about  what  he  ought  to  do.  I  explain  to  him  that 
I  wish  to  depaa't  in  the  morning,  and  gendarmes  are  despatched  to 
summon  several  leading  Eski  Babans  for  consultation,  in  the  hope 
that  some  of  them,  or  all  of  them  put  together,  might  perchance 
arrive  at  a  satisfactory  conclusion  concerning  me.  The  great  trou- 
ble appears  to  be  that,  while  I  got  the  passport  vised  at  Sofia  and 
Philippopolis,  I  overlooked  Adrianople,  and  the  Eski  Baba  oifici- 
als,  being  in  the  vilayet  of  the  latter  city,  are  naturally  puzzled  to 
account  for  this  omission  ;  and,  from  what  I  can  gather  of  their 
conversation,  some  are  advocating  sending  me  back  to  Adrianople, 
a  suggestion  that  I  straightway  announce  my  disapproval  of  by 
again  and  again  calling  their  attention  to  the  vise  of  the  Turkish 
consul-general  in  London,  and  giving  them  to  understand,  with 
much  emphasis,  that  this  w'se  answers  for  every  part  of  Turkey, 
including  the  vilayet  of  Adrianople.  The  question  then  arises  as  to 
whether  that  has  anything  to  do  with  my  carrying  a  revolver  ;  to 
which  I  candidly  reply  that  it  has  not,  at  the  same  time  pointing 
out  that  I  have  just  come  through  Servia  and  Bulgaria  (countries 
in  which  the  Turks  consider  it  quite  necessary  to  go  armed,  though 
in  fact  there  is  quite  as  much,  if  not  more,  necessity  for  arms  in 
Turkey),  and  that  I  have  come  through  both  Mustapha  Pasha  and 
Adrianople  without  being  molested  on  account  of  the  revolver  ;  all 
of  which  only  seems  to  mystify  them  the  more,  and  make  them 
more  puzzled  than  ever  about  what  to  do.  Finally  a  brilliant  idea 
occurs  to  one  of  them,  being  nothing  less  than  to  shift  the  weight 
of  the  dreadful  responsibihty  upon  the  authoritative  shoulders  of  a 
visiting  pasha,  an  important  personage  who  arrived  in  Eski  Baba 
by  can-iage  about  two  hours  ago,  and  whose  arrival  I  remember 
caused  quite  a  flurry  of  excitement  among  the  natives. 


212  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

The  pasha  is  fouucl  surrounded  by  a  number  of  bearded  Turks, 
seated  cross-legged  on  a  carpet  in  the  open  air,  smoking  nargUehs 
and  cigarettes,  and  sipping  coffee.  This  pasha  is  fatter  and  more 
unwieldy,  if  possible,  than  the  one  for  whose  edification  I  rode  the 
bicycle  this  afternoon ;  noticing  which,  all  hopes  of  being  created 
a  pasha  upon  my  arrival  at  Constantinople  naturally  vanish,  for 
evidently  one  of  the  chief  qualifications  for  a  pashalic  is  obesity,  a 
distinction  to  which  continuous  'cycling,  in  hot  weather  is  hardly 
conducive.  The  pasha  seems  a  good-natured  person,  after  the 
manner  of  fat  people  generally,  and  straightway  bids  me  be  seated 
on  the  carpet,  and  orders  coffee  and  cigarettes  to  be  placed  at  my 
disposal  while  he  examines  my  case.  In  imitation  of  those  around 
ine  I  make  an  effort  to  sit  cross-legged  on  the  mat ;  but  the  posi- 
tion is  so  uncomfortable  that  I  am  quickly  compelled  to  change  it, 
and  I  fancy  detecting  a  merry  twinkle  in  the  eye  of  more  than  one 
silent  observer  at  my  inability  to  adapt  my  posture  to  the  custom 
of  the  country.  I  scarcely  think  the  pasha  knows  anything  more 
about  what  sort  of  a  looking  document  an  English  passport  ought 
to  be,  than  does  the  mulazim  and  the  leading  citizens  of  Eski  Baba  ; 
but  he  goes  through  the  farce  of  critically  examining  the  vis&  of 
the  Turkish  consul-general  in  London,  while  another  Turk  holds 
his  lighted  cigarette  close  to  it,  and  blows  from  it  a  feeble  glimmer 
of  light.  Plainly  the  pasha  cannot  make  anything  more  out  of  it 
than  the  others,  for  many  a  Turkish  pasha  is  unable  to  sign  his 
own  name  intelligibly,  using  a  seal  instead  ;  but,  probably  with  a 
view  of  favorably  impressing  those  around  him,  he  asks  me  first  if 
I  am  an  Englishman,  and  then  if  I  am  "a  baron,"  doubtless  think- 
ing that  an  English  baron  is  a  person  occupying  a  somewhat  sim- 
ilar position  in  English  society  to  that  of  a  pasha  in  Turkish :  viz., 
a  really  despotic  sway  over  the  people  of  Ms  district ;  for,  although 
there  are  law  and  lawyers  in  Turkey  to-day,  the  pasha,  especially 
in  country  districts,  is  still  an  all-powerful  person,  practically  doing 
as  he  pleases. 

To  the  first  question  I  return  an  affirmative  answer ;  the  latter  I 
pretend  not  to  comprehend ;  but  I  cannot  help  smiling  at  the 
question  and  the  manner  in  which  it  is  put — seeing  which  the  pasha 
and  his  friends  smile  in  response,  and  look  knowingly  at  each 
other,  as  though  thinking,  "  Ah  !  he  is  a  baron,  but  don't  intend 
to  let  us  know  it."  "\^''hether  this  self-arrived-at  decision  influences 
things  in  my. favor  I  hardly  know,  but  anyhow  he  tosses  me  m^' 


214  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

passport,  and  orders  the  mulazim  to  return  my  revolver  ;  and  as  I 
mentally  remark  the  rather  jolly  expression  of  the  pasha's  face,  I 
am  inclined  to  think  that,  instead  of  treating  the  matter  with  the 
ridiculous  importance  attached  to  it  by  the  mulazim  and  the  other 
people,  he  regards  the  whole  affair  in  the  light  of  a  few  minutes' 
acceptable  diversion.  The  ^^a^sha  arrived  too  late  this  evening  at 
Eski  Baba  to  see  the  bicycle  :  "  Will  I  allow  a  gendarme  to  go  to 
the  mefiana  and  bring  it  for  his  inspection  ? "  "I  will  go  and  fetch 
it  myself,"  I  explain  ;  and  in  ten  minutes  the  fat  pasha  and  his 
friends  are  examining  the  perfect  mechanism  of  an  American 
bicycle  by  the  light  of  an  American  kerosene  lamp,  which  has  been 
provided  in  the  meantime.  Some  of  the  on-lookers,  who  have  seen 
me  ride  to-day,  suggested  to  the  pasha  that  I  "bin!  bin/"  and  the 
pasha  smiles  approvingly  at  the  suggestion ;  but  by  pantomime  I 
explain  to  him  the  impossibility  of  riding,  owing  to  the  nature  of 
the  ground  and  the  darkness,  and  I  am  really  quite  sui-prised  at 
the  readiness  with  which  he  comprehends  and  accepts  the  situation. 
The  pasha  is  very  likely  possessed  of  more  intelligence  than  I  have 
been  giving  him  credit  for ;  anyhow  he  has  in  ten  minutes  proved 
himself  equal  to  the  situation,  which  the  mulazim  and  several  prom- 
inent Eski  Babans  have  puzzled  their  collective  brains  over  for  an 
hour  in  vain,  and,  after  he  has  inspected  the  bicycle,  and  resumed 
his  cross-legged  position  on  the  carpet,  I  doff  my  helmet  to  him 
and  those  about  him,  and  return  to  the  mehana,  well  satisfied  vnth 
the  turn  affairs  have  taken. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THKOUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY. 

On  Monday  morning  I  am  again  awakened  by  the  muezzin  call- 
ing the  Mussulmans  to  tlieir  early  morning  devotions,  and,  arising 
from  my  mat  at  five  o'clock,  I  mount  and  speed  away  southward 
from  Eski  Baba.  Not  less  than  a  hundred  people  have  collected 
to  see  the  wonderful  performance  again. 

All  pretence  of  road-making  seems  to  have  been  abandoned ; 
or,  what  is  more  probable,  has  never  been  seriously  attempted,  the 
visible  roadways  from  village  to  village  being  mere  ox-wagon  and 
pack-donkey  tracks,  crossing  the  wheat-fields  and  uncultivated 
tracts  in  any  direction.  The  soil  is  a  loose^  black  loam,  which  the 
rain  converts  into  mud,  through  which  I  have  to  trundle,  wooden 
scraper  in  hand  ;  and  I  not  infrequently  have  to  carry  the  bicycle 
through  the  worst  places.  The  morning  is  sultry,  requiring  good 
roads  and  a  breeze-creating  pace  for  agreeable  going. 

Harvesting  and  threshing  are  going  forward  briskly,  but  the 
busy  hum  of  the  self-binder  and  the  threshing-machine  is  not 
heard  ;  the  reaping  is  done  with  rude  hooks,  and  the  threshing 
by  dragging  round  and  round,  with  horses  or  oxen,  sleigh-runner 
shaped,  broad  boards,  roughed  with  flints  or  iron  points,  making 
the  surface  resemble  a  huge  rasp.  Large  gangs  of  rough-looking 
Armenians,  Arabs,  and  Africans  are  harvesting  the  broad  acres  of 
land-owning  pashas,  the  gangs  sometimes  counting  not  less  than 
fifty  men.  Several  donkeys  are  always  observed  picketed  near 
them,  taken,  wherever  they  go,  for  the  purpose  of  carrying  provis- 
ions and  water.  Whenever  I  happen  anywhere  near  one  of  these 
gangs  they  all  come  charging  across  the  field,  reaping-hooks  in 
hand,  racing  with  each  other  and  good-naturedly  howling  defiance 
to  competitors.  A  band  of  Zulus  charging  down  on  a  fellow,  and 
brandishing  their  assegais,  could  scarcely  present  a  more  ferocious 
front.  Many  of  them  wear  no  covering  of  any  kind  on  the  upper 
part  of  the  body,  no  hat,  no  foot-gear,  nothing  but  a  pair  of  loose, 


16  FROM    SAN    FKANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

baggy  trousers,  while  the  tidiest  man  among  them  would  be  imme- 
diately arrested  on  general  principles  in  either  England  or  America. 
Rough  though  they  are,  they  appear,  for  the  most  part,  to  be  good- 
natured  fellows,  and  although  they  sometimes  emphasize  their 
importunities  of  "  bin  !  bin !  "  by  flourishing  their  reaping-hooks 
threateningly  over  my  head,  and  one  gang  actually  confiscates  the 
bicycle,  which  they  lay  up  on  a  shock  of  wheat,  and  with  much 
flom-ishing  of  reaping-hooks  as  they  return  to  their  labors,  warn 
me  not  to  take  it  away,  these  are  simply  good-natured  pi-anks, 
such  as  large  gangs  of  laborers  are  wont  to  occasionally  indulge  in 
the  world  over. 

Streams  have  to  be  forded  to-day  for  the  first  time  in  Europe, 
several  small  creeks  during  the  afternoon  ;  and  near  sundown  I 
find  my  pathway  into  a  village  where  I  propose  stopping  for  the 
night,  obstructed  by  a  creek  swollen  bank-full  by  a  heavy  thunder- 
shower  in  the  hills.  A  couple  of  lads  on  the  opposite  bank 
volunteer  much  information  concerning  the  depth  of  the  creek 
at  different  points  ;  no  doubt  their  evident  mystification  at  not 
being  understood  is  equalled  only  by  the  amazement  at  my  an- 
swers. Four  peasants  come  down  to  the  creek,  and  one  of  them 
kindly  wades  in  and  shows  that  it  is  only  waist  deep.  Without 
more  ado  I  ford  it,  with  the  bicycle  on  my  shoulder,  and  straight- 
way seek  the  accommodation  of  the  village  mehana.  This  village 
is  a  miserable  little  cluster  of  mud  hovels,  and  the  best  the  mehana 
affords  is  the  coarsest  of  black-bread  and  a  small  salted  fish, 
about  the  size  of  a  sardine,  which  the  natives  devour  without  any 
pretence  of  cooking,  but  which  are  worse  than  nothing  for  me, 
since  the  farther  they  are  away  the  better  I  am  suited.  Sticking  a 
flat  loaf  of  black-bread  and  a  dozen  of  these  tiny  shapes  of  salted 
nothing  in  his  broad  waistband,  the  Turkish  peasant  sallies  forth 
contentedly  to  toil. 

I  have  accomplished  the  wonderful  distance  of  forty  kilo- 
metres to-day,  at  which  I  am  really  quite  surprised,  considering 
everything.  The  usual  daily  weather  pi-ogTamme  has  been  faith- 
fully carried  out — a  heavy  mist  at  morning,  that  has  prevented 
any  drying  up  of  roads  during  the  night,  three  hours  of  op- 
pressive heat — from  nine  till  twelve — during  which  myraids  of 
ravenous  flies  squabble  for  the  honor  of  drawing  your  blood,  and 
then,  when  the  mud  begins  to  dry  out  sufficient  to  justify  my  dis- 
pensing with  the  wooden  scraper,  thunder-showers  begin  to  be- 


TriUOUGII   EUROPEAN   TURKEY.  217 

stow  their  iinappreciated  favor  upon  the  roads,  making  them  well- 
nigh  impassable  again.  The  following  morning  the  climax  of  vex- 
ation is  reached  when,  after  wading  through  the  mud  for  two  hours, 
I  discover  that  I  have  been  dragging,  carrying,  and  trundling  my 
laborious  way  along  in  the  wrong  direction  for  Tchorlu,  which  is  not 
over  thirty-five  kilometres  from  my  starting-point,  but  it  takes  me 
till  four  o'clock  to  reach  there.  A  hundred  miles  on  French  or 
English  roads  would  not  be  so  fatiguing,  and  I  wisely  take  advantage 
of  being  in  a  town  where  comparatively  decent  accommodations 
are  obtainable  to  make  up,  so  far  as  possible,  for  this  morning's 
breakfast  of  black  bread  and  coffee,  and  my  noontide  meal  of  cold, 
cheerless  reflections  on  the  same.  The  same  programme  of  "  bin  ! 
bin  !  "  from  importuning  crowds,  and  police  inquisitiveness  con- 
cerning my  "  passporte  "  are  endured  and  survived  ;  but  I  spread 
myself  upon  my  mat  to-night  thoroughly  convinced  that  p,  month's 
cycling  among  the  Turks  would  worry  most  people  into  premature 
graves. 

I  am  now  approaching  pretty  close  to  the  Sea  of  Marmora,  and 
next  morning  I  am  agreeably  surprised  to  find  sandy  roads,  which 
the  rains  have  rather  improved  than  otherwise  ;  and  although  much 
is  iinridably  heavy,  it  is  immeasurably  superior  to  yesterday's  mud. 
I  pass  the  country  residence  of  a  wealthy  pasha,  and  see  the  ladies 
of  his  harem  seated  in  the  meadow  hard  by,  enjoying  the  fresh 
morning  air.  They  form  a  circle,  facing  inward,  and  the  swarthy 
eunuch  in  charge  stands  keeping  watch  at  a  respectful  distance.  I 
carry  a  pocketful  of  bread  with  me  this  morning,  and  about  nine 
o'clock,  upon  coming  to  a  ruined  mosque  and  a  few  deserted  build- 
ings, I  approach  one  at  which  signs  of  occupation  are  visible,  for 
some  water.  This  place  is  simply  a  deserted  Mussulman  village, 
from  which  the  inhabitants  probably  decamped  in  a  body  during 
the  last  Russo-Turkish  war  ;  the  mosque  is  in  a  tumble-down  con- 
dition, the  few  dwelling-houses  remaining  are  in  the  last  stages  of 
dilapidation,  and  the  one  I  call  at  is  temporarily  occupied  by  some 
shepherds,  two  of  whom  are  regaling  themselves  with  food  of  some 
kind  out  of  an  earthenware  vessel. 

Obtaining  the  water,  I  sit  down  on  some  projecting  boards  to 
eat  my  frugal  lunch,  fully  conscious  of  being  an  object  of  much 
furtive  speculation  on  the  part  of  the  two  occupants  of  the  deserted 
house  ;  which,  however,  fails  to  strike  me  as  anything  extraordi- 
nary, since  these  attentions  have  long  since  become  an  ordinary 


218 


FROM    SAN    FRANCISCO    TO    TEHERAN. 


every-daj'  affair.  Not  even  the  sulky  and  rather  hang-dog  expres- 
sion of  the  men,  which  failed  not  to  escape  my  observation  at  my 
first  approach,  awakened  any  shadow  of  suspicion  in  my  mind  of 
their  being  possibly  dangerous  characters,  although  the  appearance 
of  the  place  itself  is  really  sufficient  to  make  one  hesitate  about 
venturing  near  ;  and  upon  sober  after-thought  I  am  fully  satisfied 


"And  makes  a  grab  for  my  Revolver" 

that  this  is  a  resort  of  a  certain  class  of  disreputable  characters, 
half  shepherds,  half  brigands,  who  are  only  kept  from  turning 
full-fledged  freebooters  by  a  wholesome  fear  of  retributive  justice. 
While  I  am  discussing  my  bread  and  water  one  of  these  worthies 
saunters  with  assumed  carelessness  up  behind  me  and  makes  a 
grab  for  my  revolver,  the  butt  of  which  he  sees  protruding  from 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  219 

the  holster.  Although  I  am  not  exactly  anticipating  this  move- 
ment, travelling  alone  among  strange  people  makes  one's  faculties 
of  self-preservation  almost  mechanically  on  the  alert,  and  my  hand 
reaches  the  revolver  before  his  does.  Springing  up,  I  turn  round 
and  confront  him  and  his  companion,  who  is  standing  in  the  door- 
way. A  full  exposition  of  their  character  is  plainly  stamped  on 
their  faces,  and  for  a  moment  I  am  almost  tempted  to  use  the  re- 
volver on  them.  Whether  they  become  afraid  of  this  or  whether 
they  have  urgent  business  of  some  nature  will  never  be  known  to 
me,  but  they  both  disappear  inside  the  door  ;  and,  in  view  of  my 
uncertainty  of  their  future  intentions,  I  consider  it  advisable  to 
meander  on  toward  the  coast. 

Eve  I  get  beyond  the  waste  lauds  adjoining  this  village  I  en- 
counter two  more  of  these  shepherds,  in  charge  of  a  small  flock ; 
they  are  watering  their  sheep  ;  and  as  I  go  over  to  the  spring, 
ostensibly  to  obtain  a  drink,  but  really  to  have  a  look  at  them, 
they  both  sneak  off  at  my  approach,  like  criminals  avoiding  one 
whom  they  suspect  of  being  a  detective.  Take  it  all  in  all,  I  am 
satisfied  that  this  neighborhood  is  a  place  that  I  have  been  for- 
tunate in  coming  through  in  broad  daylight ;  by  moonlight  it 
might  have  furnished  a  far  more  interesting  item  than  the  above. 

An  hour  after,  I  am  gratified  at  obtaining  my  first  glimpse  of 
the  Sea  of  Marmora  off  to  the  right,  and  in  another  hour  I  am  dis- 
porting in  the  warm  clear  surf,  a  luxury  that  has  not  been  within 
my  reach  since  leaving  Dieppe,  and  which  is  a  thrice  welcome  privi- 
lege in  this  land,  whei'e  the  usual  ablutions  at  mehanas  consist  of 
pouring  water  on  the  hands  from  a  tin  cup.  The  beach  is  composed 
of  sand  and  tiny  shells,  the  waim  surf-waves  are  clear  as  crystal, 
and  my  first  plunge  in  the  Marmora,  after  a  two  months'  cycle  tour 
across  a  continent,  is  the  most  thoroughly  enjoyable  bath  I  ever 
had  ;  notwithstanding,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  keep  a  loose  eye  on  some 
shepherds  perched  on  a  handy  knoll,  who  look  as  if  half  inclined  to 
slip  down  and  examine  my  clothes.  The  clothes,  with,  of  course, 
the  revolver  and  every  penny  I  have  with  me,  are  almost  as  near  to 
them  as  to  me,  and  always,  after  ducking  my  head  under  water,  my 
firstcare  is  to  take  a  precautionary  glance  in  their  direction.  "  Cursed 
is  the  mind  that  nurses  suspicion, "  someone  has  said  ;  but  under 
the  circumstances  almost  anybody  would  be  suspicious.  These 
shepherds  along  the  Marmora  coast  favor  each  other  a  great  deal, 
and  when  a  person  has  been  the  recipient  of  undesirable  attentions 


220  FKOM    SAN   FRANCISCO  "TO   TEHERAN. 

from  one  of  them,  to  look  askance  at  the  next  one  met  with  comes 
natural  enough. 

Over  the  undulating  cliffs  and  along  the  sandy  beach,  my  road 
now  leads  through  the  pretty  little  seaport  of  Cilivi-ia,  toward  Con- 
stantinople, traversing  a  most  lovely  stretch  of  country,  where  wav- 
ing wheat-fields  hug  the  beach  and  fairly  coquet  with  the  waves, 
and  the  slopes  are  green  and  beautiful  with  vineyards  and  fig- 
gardens,  while  away  beyond  the  glassy  shimmer  of  the  sea  I  fancy 
I  can  trace  on  the  southern  horizon  the  inequalities  of  the  hills 
of  Asia  Minor.  Greek  fishing-boats  are  plying  hither  and  thither  ; 
one  noble  sailing-vessel,  with  all  sails  set,  is  slowly  ploughing  her 
way  down  toward  the  Dardanelles — probably  a  gi-ain-ship  from 
the  Black  Sea — and  the  smoke  from  a  couple  of  steamers  is  discern- 
ible in  the  distance.  Flourishing  Greek  fishing-villages  and  vine- 
growing  communities  occupy  this  beautiful  strip  of  coast,  along 
which  the  Greeks  seem  determined  to  make  the  Cross  as  much 
more  conspicuous  than  the  Crescent  as  possible,  by  rearing  it  on 
every  public  building  under  their  control,  and  not  infrequently  on 
private  ones  as  well.  The  people  of  these  Greek  villages  seem  pos- 
sessed of  sunny  dispositions,  the  absence  of  all  reserve  among  the 
women  being  in  striking  contrast  to  the  demeanor  of  the  Turkish 
fair  sex.  These  Greek  women  chatter  after  me  from  the  windows  as 
I  wheel  past,  and  if  I  stop  a  minute  in  the  street  they  gather  around 
by  dozens,  smiling  pleasantly,  and  plying  me  with  questions,  which, 
of  course,  I  cannot  understand.  Some  of  them  are  quite  handsome, 
and  nearly  all  have  perfect  white  teeth,  a  fact  that  I  have  ample 
opportunity  of  knowing,  since  they  seem  to  be  all  smiles. 

There  has  been  much  making  of  artificial  highways  leading  from 
Constantinople  in  this  direction  in  ages  past.  A  road-bed  of  huge 
blocks  of  stone,  such  as  some  of  the  streets  of  Eastern  towns  are 
made  impassable  with,  is  traceable  for  miles,  ascending  and  de- 
scending the  rolling  hills,  imperishable  witnesses  of  the  wide  dif- 
ference in  Eastern  and  Western  ideas  of  making  a  road.  These  are 
probably  the  work  of  the  people  who  occupied  this  country  before 
the  Ottoman  Turks,  who  have  also  tried  their  hands  at  making  a 
macadam,  which  not  infrequently  runs  close  along-side  the  old  block 
roadway,  and  sometimes  crosses  it ;  and  it  is  matter  of  some  wonder- 
ment that  the  Turks,  instead  of  hauling  material  for  their  road  from 
a  distance  did  not  save  expense  by  merely  breaking  the  stones  of 
the  old  causeway  and  using  the  same  road-bed.     Twice  to-day  I 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  221 

have  been  required  to  produce  my  passport,  and  when  toward 
evening  I  pass  through  a  small  YUlage,  the  lone  gendarme  who  is 
smoking  a  nargileh  in  front  of  the  mehana  where  I  halt  points  to 
my  revolver  and  demands  "  passaporte,  "  I  wave  examination,  so 
to  speak,  by  arguing  the  case  with  him,  and  by  the  not  always  un- 
handy plan  of  pretending  not  exactly  to  comprehend  his  meaning. 
"Passaporte  !  passaporte  !  gendarmerie,  me,  "  replies  the  officer,  au- 
thoritativelj',  in  answer  to  my  explanation  of  a  voyageur  being  privi- 
leged to  carry  a  revolver  ;  while  several  villagers  who  have  gathered 
aroimd  us  interpose  "  Bin  J  bin  !  monsieur,  bin  !  bin  !  "  I  have  little 
notion  of  yielding  up  either  revolver  or  passport  to  this  village  gen- 
darme, for  much  of  their  officiousness  is  simply  the  disposition  to 
show  off  their  authority  and  satisfy  their  own  personal  curiosity  re- 
garding me,  to  say  nothing  of  the  possibility  of  coming  in  for  a  little 
backsheesh.  The  villagers  are  worrying  me  to  "  bin  !  bin  I  "  at  the 
same  time  the  gendarme  is  worrying  me  about  the  revolver  and  pass- 
port, and  knowing  from  previous  experience  that  the  gendarme 
would  never  stop  me  from  mounting,  being  quite  as  anxious  to  wit- 
ness the  performance  as  the  villagers,  I  quickly  decide  upon  killing 
two  birds  with  one  stone,  and  accordingly  mount,  and  pick  my  way 
along  the  rough  street  out  on  to  the  Constantmople  road. 

The  gloaming  settles  into  darkness,  and  the  domes  and  mina- 
rets of  Stamboul,  which  have  been  visible  from  the  brow  of  every 
hill  for  several  miles  back,  are  still  eight  or  ten  miles  away,  and 
rightly  judging  that  the  Ottoman  Capital  is  a  most  bewildering 
city  for  a  stranger  to  penetrate  after  night,  I  pillow  my  head  on  a 
sheaf  of  oats,  within  sight  of  the  goal  toward  which  I  have  been 
pedalling  for  some  2,500  miles  since  leaving  Liverpool.  After 
surveying  with  a  good  deal  of  satisfaction  the  twinkling  lights  that 
distinguish  every  minaret  in  Constantinople  each  night  during  the 
fast  of  Ramadan,  I  fall  asleep,  and  enjoy,  beneath  a  sky  in  which 
myriads  of  fai--off  lamps  seem  to  be  twinkling  mockingly  at  the 
Eamadan  illuminations,  the  finest  night's  repose  I  have  had  for  a 
week.  Nothing  but  the  prevailing  rains  have  prevented  me  from 
sleeping  beneath  the  starry  dome  entirely  in  preference  to  putting 
up  at  the  village  mehanaa. 

En  route  into  Stamboul,  on  the  following  morning,  I  meet  the 
first  train  of  camels  I  have  yet  encountered  ;  in  the  gray  of  the 
morning,  with  the  scenes  around  so  thoroughly  Oriental,  it  seems 
like  an  appropriate  introduction   to  Asiatic  life.      Eight  o'clock 


222  FROM   SAN   FKANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

finds  me  inside  the  line  of  earthworks  thrown  up  by  Baker  Pasha 
when  the  Eussians  were  last  knocking  at  the  gates  of  Constantino- 
ple,- and  ere  long  I  am  trundling  through  the  crooked  streets  of 
the  Turkish  Capital  toward  the  bridge  which  connects  Stamboul 
with  Galata  and  Pera.  Even  here  my  ears  are  assailed  with  the 
eternal  importunities  to  "  bin  !  bin  !  "  the  officers  collecting  the 
bridge-toll  even  joining  in  the  request.  To  accommodate  them  I 
mount,  and  ride  part  way  across  the  bridge,  and  at  9  o'clock  on 
July  2d,  just  two  calendar  months  from  the  start  at  Liverpool,  I 
am  eating  my  breakfast  in  a  Constantinople  restaurant. 

I  am  not  long  in  finding  English-speaking  friends,  to  whom  my 
journey  across  the  two  continents  is  not  unknown,  and  who  kindly 
direct  me  to  the  Chamber  of  Commerce  Hotel,  Eue  Omar,  Galata, 
a  home-like  establishment,  kept  by  an  English  lady.  I  have  been 
purposing  of  late  to  remain  in  Constantinople  during  the  heated 
term  of  July  and  August,  thinking  to  shape  my  course  southward 
through  Asia  Minor  and  down  the  Euphrates  Valley  to  Bagdad, 
and  by  taking  a  south-easterly  direction  as  far  as  circumstances 
would  permit  into  India,  keep  pace  with  the  seasons,  thus  avoiding 
the  necessity  of  remaining  over  anywhere  for  the  winter.  At  the 
same  time  I  have  been  reckoning  upon  meeting  Englishmen  in 
Constantinople  who,  having  travelled  extensively  in  Asia,  could 
further  enlighten  me  regarding  the  best  route  to  India.  As  I 
house  my  bicycle  and  am  shown  to  my  room  I  take  a  retrospective 
glance  across  Europe  and  America,  and  feel  almost  as  if  I  have  ar- 
rived at  the  half-way  house  of  my  journey.  The  distance  from 
Liverpool  to  Constantinople  is  fully  2,500  miles,  which  brings  the 
wheeling  distance  from  San  Francisco  up  to  something  over  6,000. 

So  far  as  the  distance  wheeled  and  to  be  wheeled  is  concerned, 
it  is  not  far  from  half-way ;  but  the  real  difficulties  of  the  journey 
are  still  ahead,  although  I  scarcely  anticipate  any  that  time  and 
perseverance  wUl  not  overcome.  My  tour  across  Europe  has  been, 
on  the  whole,  a  delightful  journey,  and,  although  my  linguistic 
shortcomings  have  made  it  rather  awkward  in  interior  places 
where  no  English-speaking  person  was  to  be  found,  I  always  man- 
aged to  make  myself  understood  sufficiently  to  get  along.  In  the 
interior  of  Turkey  a  knowledge  of  French  has  been  considered  in- 
dispensable to  a  traveller :  but,  although  a  full  knowledge  of  that 
language  would  have  made  matters  much  smoother  by  enabling  me 
to  converse  with  officials  and  others,  I  have  nevertheless  come 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  223 

through  all  right  without  it ;  and  there  have  doubtless  been  occa- 
sions when  my  ignorance  has  saved  me  from  a  certain  amount  of 
bother  with  the  gendarmerie,  who,  above  all  things,  dislike  to  exer- 
cise their  thinking  apparatus.  A  Turkish  official  is  far  less  indis- 
posed to  act  than  he  is  to  think ;  his  mental  faculties  work  slug- 
gishly, but  his  actions  are  governed  largely  by  the  impulse  of  the 
moment. 

Someone  has  said  that  to  see  Constantinople  is  to  see  the  entire 
East ;  and  judging  from  the  different  costumes  and  peoples  one 
meets  on  the  streets  and  in  the  bazaars,  the  saying  is  certainly  not  far 
amiss.  From  its  geographical  situation,  as  well  as  from  its  history, 
Constantinople  naturally  takes  the  front  rank  among  the  cosmopol- 
itan cities  of  the  world,  and  the  crowds  thronging  its  busy  thorough- 
fares embrace  every  condition  of  man  between  the  kid-gloved  ex- 
quisite without  a  wrinkle  in  his  clothes  and  the  representative  of 
half-savage  Central  Asian  States  incased  in  sheepskin  garments  of 
rudest  pattern.  The  great  fast  of  Eamadan  is  under  full  headway, 
and  all  true  Mussulmans  neither  eat  nor  drink  a  particle  of  any- 
thing throughout  the  day  until  the  booming  of  cannon  at  eight  in 
the  evening  announces  that  the  fast  is  ended,  when  the  scene 
quickly  changes  into  a  general  rush  for  eatables  and  drink.  Be- 
tween eight  and  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  during  Eamadan,  cer- 
tain streets  and  bazaars  present  their  liveliest  appearance,  and  from 
the  highest-classed  restaurant  patronized  by  bey  and  pasha  to  the 
venders  of  eatables  on  the  streets,  all  do  a  rushing  business  ;  even 
the  sujees  (water-venders),  who  with  leather  water-bottles  and  a 
couple  of  tumblers  wait  on  thirsty  pedestrians  with  pure  drinking 
water,  at  five  paras  a  glass,  dodge  about  among  the  crowds,  an- 
nouncing themselves  with  lusty  lung,  fully  alive  to  the  opportu- 
nities of  the  moment. 

A  few  of  the  coffee-houses  provide  music  of  an  inferior  quaUty, 
Constantinople  not  being  a  very  musical  place.  A  forenoon  hour 
spent  in  a  neighborhood  of  private  residences  will  repay  a  stranger 
for  his  trouble,  since  he  will  during  that  time  see  a  bewildering 
assortment  of  street-venders,  from  a  peregrinating  meat-market, 
with  a  complete  stock  dangling  from  a  wooden  framework  attached 
to  a  horse's  back,  to  a  grimy  individual  worrying  along  beneath 
a  small  mountain  of  charcoal,  and  each  with  cries  more  or  less 
musical.  The  sidewalks  of  Constantinople  are  ridiculously  narrow, 
their  only  practical  use  being  to  keep  vehicles  from  running  into 


224  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

the  merchandise  of  the  shopkeepers,  and  to  give  pedestrians  plenty 
of  exercise  in  jostHng  each  other,  and  hopping  on  and  off  the 
curbstone  to  avoid  inconveniencing  the  ladies,  who  of  course  are 
not  to  be  jostled  either  off  the  sidewalk  or  into  a  sidewalk  stock  of 
miscellaneous  merchandise.  The  Constantinople  sidewalk  is  any- 
body's territory  ;  the  merchant  encumbers  it  with  his  wares  and 
the  coffee-houses  with  chairs  for  customers  to  sit  on,  the  rights  of 
pedestrians  being  altogether  ignored  ;  the  natural  consequence  is 
that  these  latter  fill  the  streets,  and  the  Constantinople  Jehu  not 
only  has  to  keep  his  wits  about  him  to  avoid  running  over  men  and 
dogs,  but  has  to  use  his  lungs  continually,  shouting  at  them  to  clear 
the  way.  If  a  seat  is  taken  in  one  of  the  coffee-house  chairs,  a  watch- 
ful waiter  instantly^  makes  his  appearance  with  a  tray  containing 
small  chunks  of  a  pasty  sweetmeat,  known  in  England  as  "  Turkish 
Delight,"  one  of  which  you  are  expected  to  take  and  pay  half  a 
piastre  for,  this  being  a  polite  way  of  obtaining  payment  for  the 
privilege  of  using  the' chair.  The  coffee  is  served  steaming  hot  in 
tiny  cups  holding  about  two  table-spoonfuls,  the  price  varying 
from  ten  paras  upward,  according  to  the  grade  of  the  establishment. 
A  favorite  way  of  passing  the  evening  is  to  sit  in  front  of  one  of 
these  establishments,  watching  the  passing  throngs,  and  smoke  a 
nargileh,  this  latter  requiring  a  good  half-hour  to  do  it  properly. 
I  undertook  to  investigate  the  amount  of  enjoyment  contained  in  a 
nargileh  one  evening,  and.  before  smoking  it  half  through  con- 
cluded that  the  taste  has  to  be  cultivated. 

One  of  the  most  inconvenient  things  about  Constantinople  is 
the  great  scarcity  of  small  change.  Everybody  seems  to  be  short 
of  fractional  money  save  the  money-changers — people  who  are  here 
a  genuine  necessity,  since  one  often  has  to  patronize  them  before 
making  the  most  trifling  purchase.  Ofttimes  the  store-keeper  will 
refuse  point-blank  to  sell  an  article  when  change  is  required,  solely 
on  account  of  his  inability  or  unwUlingness  to  supply  it.  After 
drinking  a  cup  of  coffee,  I  have  had  the  kahvajee  refuse  to  take  any 
payment  rather  than  change  a  cherik.  Inquiring  the  reason  for  this 
scarcity,  I  am  informed  that  whenever  there  is  any  new  output  of 
this  money  the  noble  army  of  money-changers,  by  a  liberal  and  ju- 
dicious application  of  backsheesh,  manage  to  get  a  corner  on  the 
lot  and  compel  the  general  public,  for  whose  benefit  it  is  ostensibly 
issued,  to  obtain  what  they  require  through  them.  However  this 
may  be,  they  manage  to  dontrol  its  circulation  to  a  great  extent ; 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURRET.  225 

for  while  their  glass  cases  display  an  overflowing  plenitude,  even 
the  fruit-vender,  whose  transactions  are  mainly  of  ten  and  twenty 
paras,  is  not  infrequently  compelled  to  lose  a  customer  because  of 
his  inability  to  make  change.  There  are  not  less  than  twenty 
monej'-chaugers'  offices  within  a  hundred  yards  of  the  Galata  end 
of  the  principal  bridge  spanning  the  Golden  Horn,  and  certainly 
not  a  less  number  on  the  Stamboul  side. 

The  money-changer  usually  occupies  a  portion  of  the  frontage 
of  a  cigarette  and  tobacco  stand  ;  and  on  all  the  business  streets 
one  happens  at  frequent  intervals  upon  these  little  glass  cases  full 
of  bowls  and  heaps  of  miscellaneous  coins,  varying  in  value.  Be- 
hind sits  a  business-looking  person — usually  a  Jew — jingling  a 
handful  of  medjedis,  and  expectantly  eyeing  every  approaching 
stranger.  The  usual  percentage  charged  is,  for  changing  a  lira, 
eighty  paras  ;  thirty  paras  for  a  medjedie,  and  ten  for  a  cherik, 
the  percentage  on  this  latter  coin  being  about  five  per  cent. 
Some  idea  of  the  inconvenience  to  the  public  of  this  state  of  affairs 
can  be  better  imagined  by  the  American  by  reflecting  that  if  this 
state  of  affairs  existed  in  Boston  he  would  frequently  have  to  walk 
around  the  block  and  give  a  money-changer  five  per  cent,  for 
changing  a  dollar  before  venturing  upon  the  purchase  of  a  dish  of 
baked  beans.  If  one  offers  a  coin  of  the  larger  denominations  in 
payment  of  an  article,  even  in  quite  imposing  establishments,  thej' 
look  as  black  over  it  as  though  you  were  trying  to  palm  off  a 
counterfeit,  and  hand  back  the  change  with  an  ungraciousness  and 
an  evident  reluctance  that  makes  a  sensitive  person  feel  as  though 
he  has  in  some  way  been  unwittingly  guilty  of  a  mean  action. 

Even  the  principal  streets  of  Constantinople  are  but  indifferently 
lighted  at  night,  and,  save  for  the  feeble  •ghmmer  of  kerosene  lamps 
in  front  of  stores  and  coffee-houses,  the  by-streets  are  in  darkness. 
SmaU  parties  of  Turkish  women  are  encountered  picking  their  way 
along  the  streets  of  Galata  in  charge  of  a  male  attendant,  who 
walks  a  little  way  behind,  if  of  the  better  class,  or  without  the 
attendant  in  the  case  of  poorer  i^eople,  carrying  small  Japanese 
lanterns.  Sometimes  a  lantern  will  go  out,  or  doesn't  burn  satis- 
factorily, and  the  whole  pai-ty  halts  in  the  middle  of  the,  perhaps, 
crowded  thoroughfare,  and  clusters  around  until  the  lantern  is 
readjusted.  The  Turkish  lady  walks  with  a  slouchy  gait,  her 
shroud-like  abbas  adding  not  a  little  to  the  ungracefulness. 

Matters  are  likewise  scarcely  to  be  improved  by  wearing  two 
15 


220  FROM   SAN   FRAKCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

pairs  of  shoes,  the  large,  slipper-like  overshoes  being  required  by 
etiquette  to  be  left  on  the  mat  upon  entering  the  house  she  is 
visiting  ;  and  in  the  case  of  a  strictly  orthodox  Mussulman  lady — 
and,  doubtless,  we  may  also  easily  imagine  in  case  of  a  not  over- 
prepossessing  countenance — the  yashmak  hides  all  but  the  eyes. 
The  eyes  of  many  Turkish  ladies  are  large  and  beautiful,  and  peep 

from  between  the  white, 
gauzy  folds  of  the  yash- 
mak with  an  effect  upon 
the  observant  Frank  not 
unUke  coquettishly  og- 
ling from  behind  a  fan. 
Handsome  young  Turk- 
ish ladies  with  a  leaning 
toward  Western  ideas 
are  no  doubt  coming  to 
understand  this,  for 
many  are  nowadays  met 
on  the  streets  wearing 
yashmaks  that  are  but 
a  single  thickness  of 
transparent  gauze  that 
obscures  never  a  fea- 
ture, at  the  same  time 
producing  the  decided- 
ly interesting  and  tak- 
ing effect  above  men- 
tioned. It  is  readily 
...   .       -^   .  seen  that  the  wearinff  of 

Almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian.  o 

yashmaks  must  be  quite 
a  charitable  custom  in  the  case  of  a  lady  not  blessed  with  a  hand- 
some face,  since  it  enables  her  to  appear  in  public  the  equal  of  her 
more  favored  sister  in  commanding  whatever  homage  is  to  be 
derived  from  that  mystery  which  is  said  to  be  woman's  greatest 
charm ;  and  if  she  has  but  the  one  redeeming  feature  of  a  beauti- 
ful pair  of  eyes,  the  advantage  is  obvious.  In  street-cars,  steam- 
boats, and  aU  public  conveyances,  board  or  canvas  partitions  wall 
off  a  small  compartment  for  the  exclusive  use  of  ladies,  where 
hidden  from  the  rude  gaze  of  the  Frank,  the  Turkish  lady  can  re- 
move her  yashmak  and  smoke  cigarettes. 


THROUGH  EUROPEAK  TURKEY.  227 

On  Sunday,  July  12th,  in  company  with  an  Englishman  in  the 
Turkish  artillery  service,  I  pay  my  first  visit  to  Asian  soil,  taking  a 
caique  across  the  Bosphorus  to  Kadikeui,  one  of  the  many  delight- 
ful seaside  resorts  within  easy  distance  of  Constantinople.  Many 
objects  of  interest  are  pointed  out,  as,  propelled  by  a  couple  of 
swarthy,  half-naked  caique-jees,  the  sharp-prowed  caique  gallantly 
rides  the  blue  waves  of  this  loveliest  of  all  pieces  of  land-environed 
water.  More  than  once  I  have  noticed  that  a  firm  belief  in  the 
supernatural  has  an  abiding  hold  upon  the  average  Turkish  mind, 
having  frequently  during  my  usual  evening  promenade  through 
the  Galata  streets  noted  the  expression  of  deep  and  genuine  ear- 
nestness upon  the  countenances  of  fez-crowned  citizens  giving  re- 
spectful audience  to  Arab  fortune-tellers,  paying  twenty-pai-a  pieces 
for  the  revelations  he  is  favoring  them  with,  and  handing  over  the 
coins  with  the  business-like  air  of  people  satisfied  that  they  are 
getting  its  full  equivalent.  Consequently  I  am  not  much  astonished 
when,  rounding  Seraglio  Point,  my  companion  calls  my  attention 
to  several  large  sections  of  whalebone  suspended  on  the  wall  facing 
the  water,  and  tells  me  that  they  are  placed  there  by  the  fishermen, 
who  believe  them  to  be  a  talisman  of  no  small  efficacy  in  keeping 
the  Bosphorus  well  suppHed  with  fish,  they  firmly  adhering  to  the 
story  that  once,  when  the  bones  were  removed,  the  fish  nearly  all 
disappeared.  The  oars  used  by  the  caique-jees  are  of  quite  a  pecul- 
iar shape,  the  oar-shaft  immediately  next  the  hand-hold  swells  into 
a  bulbous  affair  for  the  next  eighteen  inches,  which  is  at  least  four 
times  the  circumference  of  the  remainder,  and  the  end  of  the  oar- 
blade  is  for  some  reason  made  swallow-tailed.  The  object  of  the  en- 
larged portion,  which  of  course  comes  inside  the  rowlocks,  appears 
to  be  the  double  purpose  of  balancing  the  weight  of  the  longer  por- 
tion outside,  and  also  for  preventing  the  oar  at  all  times  from  escap- 
ing into  the  water.  The  rowlock  is  simply  a  raw-hide  loop,  kept  well 
greased,  and  as,  toward  the  end  of  every  stroke,  the  caique-jee  leans 
back  to  his  work,  the  oar  slips  several  inches,  causing  a  considerable 
loss  of  power.  The  day  is  wai-m,  the  broiling  sun  shines  directly 
down  on  the  bare  heads  of  the  caique-jees,  and  causes  the  perspiration 
to  roll  off  their  swarthy  faces  in  large  beads  ;  but  they  lay  back  to 
their  work  manfully,  although,  from  early  morning  until  cannon  roar 
at  8  P.M.  neither  bite  nor  sup,  not  even  so  much  water  as  to  moisten 
the  end  of  their  parched  tongues,  will  pass  their  lips  ;  for,  although 
but  poor  hard-working  caique-jees,  they  are  true  Mussulmans. 


228  FKOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

Pointing  sliywarcT  ffom  the  summit  of  the  hill  back  of  Seraglio 
Point  are  the  four  tapeiing  minarets  of  the  world-renowned  St. 
Sophia  mosque,  and  a  little  farther  to  the  left  is  the  Sultana  Aeli- 
met  mosque,  the  only  mosque  in  all  Mohammedanism  with  six 
minarets.'  Near  by  is  the  old  Seraglio  Palace,  or  rather  what  is 
left  of  it,  built  by  Mohammed  II.  in  1467,  out  of  materials  from  the 
ancient  Byzantine  palaces,  and  in  a  department  of  which  the  savjiak 
shereef  (holy  standard),  boorda-y  shereef  (holy  mantle),  and  other 
veiierated  relics  of  the  prophet  Mohammed  are  preserved.  To  this 
place,  on  the  15th  of  Ramadan,  the  Sultan  and  leading  dignitaries 
of  the  Empire  repair  to  do  homage  to  the  holy  relics,  upon  which 
it  would  be  the  highest  sacrilege  for  Christian  eyes  to  gaze.  The 
hem  of  this  holy  mantle  is  reverently  kissed  by  the  Sultan  and  the 
few  leading  personages  present,  after  which  the  spot  thus  brought 
in  contact  with  human  hps  is  carefully  wiped  with  an  embroidered 
napkin  dipped  in  a  golden  basin  of  water  ;  the  water  used  in  this 
ceremony  is  then  supposed  to  be  of  priceless  value  as  a  purifier  of 
sin,  and  is  carefully  preserved,  and,  corked  up  in  tiny  phials,  is  dis- 
tributed among  the  sultanas,  grand  dignitaries,  and  prominent 
people  of  the  realm,  who  in  return  make  valuable  presents  to  the 
lucky  messengers  and  Mussulman  ecclesiastics  employed  in  its  dis- 
tribution. This  precious  liquid  is  doled  out  drop  by  drop,  as 
though  it  were  nectar  of  eternal  life  received  direct  from  heaven, 
and,  mixed  with  other  water,  is  drunk  immediately  upon  breaking 
fast  each  evening  during  the  remaining  fifteen  days  of  Eamadan. 

Arriving  at  Kadikeui,  the  opportunity  presents  of  observing 
something  of  the  high-handed  manner  in  which  Turkish  pashas  are 
wont  to  expect  from  inferiors  their  every  whim  obeyed.  We  meet 
a  friend  of  my  companion,  a  pasha,  who  for  the  remainder  of  the 
afternoon  makes  one  of  our  company.  Unfortunately  for  a  few 
other  persons  the  pasha  is  in  a  whimsical  mood  to-day  and  inclined 
to  display  for  our  benefit  rather  arbitrary  authority  toward  others. 

The  first  individual  coming  under  his  immediate  notice  is  a 
young  man  torturing  a  harp.  Summoning  the  musician,  the  pasha 
summarily  orders  him  to  play  "  Yankee  Doodle."     The  musician 

'  The  writer  arrived  in  Constantinople  with  the  full  impression  tliat  it  was 
the  mosque  of  St.  Sophia  that  has  the  famous  six  minarets,  having,  I  am  quite 
sure,  seen  it  tlius  quite  frequently  accredited  in  print,  and  I  mention  this 
especially,  in  order  that  readers  who  may  have  been  similarly  misinformed 
mav  know  that  the  above  account  is  the  correct  one. 


THKOUail    EUKOPEAW   TURKEY.  229 

does  not  know  it,  and  humbly  begs  the  paslia  to  name  something 
more  familiar.  "  Yankee  Doodle  ! "  replies  the  pasha  peremptorily. 
The  poor  man  looks  as  though  he  would  willingly  relinquish  all 
■  hopes  of  the  future  if  only  some  j)resent  avenue  of  escape  would 
cffer  itself;  but  nothing  of  the  Mud  seems  at  all  likely.  The 
musician  appeals  to  my  Turkish- speaking  friend,  and  begs  him  to 
request  me  to  favor  him  with  the  tune.  I  am  of  course  only  too 
glad  to  help  him  stem  the  rising  tide  of  the  pasha's  Avrath  by  whist- 
ling the  tune  for  him  ;  and  after  a  certain  amount  of  preliminary 
twanging  he  strikes  up  and  manages  to  blunder  through  "  yankeo 
Doodle."  The  pasha,  after  ascertaining  from  me  that  the  per- 
formance is  creditable,  considering  the  circumstances,  forthwith 
hands  him  more  money  than  he  would  collect  among  the  poorer 
patrons  of  the  place  in  two  hours.  Soon  a  company  of  five  strolling 
acrobats  and  conjurers  happens  along,  and  these  likewise  are  sum- 
moned into  the  "  presence"  and  ordered  to  proeeed.  Many  of  the 
conjurer's  tricks  are  quite  creditable  performances  ;  but  the  pasha 
occasionally  interferes  in  the  proceedings  just  in  the  nick  of  time 
to  prevent  the  prestidigitator  finishing  his  manipulations,  much  to 
the  pasha's  delight.  Once,  however,  he  cleverly  manages  to  hood- 
wink the  pasha,  and  executes  his  trick  in  spite  of  the  latter's  inter- 
ference, which  so  amuses  the  pasha  that  he  straightway  gives  him 
a  medjedie.  Our  return  boat  to  Galata  starts  at  seven  o'clock,  and 
it  is  a  ten  minutes'  drive  down  to  the  landing.  At  fifteen  minutes 
to  seven  the  pasha  calls  for  a  public  carriage  to  take  us  down  to  the 
steamer. 

"  There  arc  no  carriages.  Pasha  Effendi.  Those  three  are  all 
engaged  by  ladies  and  gentlemen  in  the  garden,"  exclaims  the 
waiter,  respectfully. 

"  Engaged  or  not  engaged,  I  want  that  open  carriage  yonder,'' 
replies  the  pasha  authoritatively,  and  already  beginning  to  show 
signs  of  impatience."  Boschanna!  "  (hi,  you,  there  !)  "  drive  around 
here,"  addressing  the  driver. 

The  driver  enters  a  plea  of  being  already  engaged.  The  pasha's 
temper  rises  to  the  point  of  threatening  to  throw  carriage,  horses, 
and  driver  into  the  Bosphorus  if  his  demands  are  not  instantly 
complied  with.  Finally  the  driver  and  everybody  else  interested 
collapse  completely,  and,  entering  the  carriage,  we  are  driven  to  our 
destination  without  another  murmur.  Subsequently  I  learned  that 
a  government  ofScer,  whether  a  pasha  or  of  lower  rank,  has  the 


II 

;/ 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  231 

power  of  taiing  arbitrary  possession  of  a  public  conveyance  over 
the  head  of  a  civilian,  so  that  our  pasha  was,  after  all,  only  sticking 
up  for  the  rights  of  himself  and  my  friend  of  the  artillery,  who 
likewise  wears  the  mark  by  which  a  military  man  is  in  Turkey 
always  distinguishable  from  a  civUian — a  longer  string  to  the  tassel 
of  his  fez. 

This  is  the  last  day  of  Eamadan,  and  the  following  Monday 
ushers  in  the  three  days'  feast  of  Biaram,  which  is  in  substance  a 
kind  of  a  general  carousal  to  compensate  for  the  rigid  self-denial 
of  the  thirty  days'  fasting  and  prayer  just  ended.  The  government 
offices  and  works  are  all  closed,  everybody  is  wearing  new  clothes, 
and  holiday-making  engrosses  the  public  attention.  A  friend  pro- 
poses a  trip  on  a  Bosphorus  steamer  up  as  far  as  the  entrance  to 
the  Black  Sea.  The  steamers  are  profusely  decorated  with  gay- 
colored  flags,  and  at  certain  hours  all  war-ships  anchored  in  the 
Bosphorus,  as  well  as  the  forts  and  arsenals,  fire  salutes,  the  roar 
and  rattle  of  the  great  guns  echoing  among  the  hills  of  Europe  and 
Asia,  that  here  confront  each  other,  with  but  a  thojisand  yards  of 
daucing  blue  waters  between  them.  All  along  either  lovely  shore 
villages  and  splendid  country-seats  of  wealthy  pashas  and  Constanti- 
nople merchants  dot  the  verdure-clad  slopes.  Two  white  marble 
kiosks  of  the  Sultan  are  pointed  out.  The  old  castles  of  Europe 
and  Asia  face  each  other  on  opposite  sides  of  the  narrow  channel. 
They  were  famous  fortresses  in  theu"  day,  but,  save  as  interesting 
relics  of  a  bygone  age,  they  are  no  longer  of  any  use. 

At  Therapia  are  the  summer  residences  of  the  different  ambasr 
sadors,  the  English  and  French  the  most  conspicuous.  The  exten- 
sive grounds  of  the  former  are  most  beautifully  terraced,  and  evi- 
dently fit  for  the  residence  of  royalty  itself.  Happy  indeed  is  the 
Constantinopolitan  whose  income  commands  a  summer  villa  in 
Therapia,  or  at  anj'  of  the  many  desirable  locations  in  plain  view 
within  this  earthly  paradise  of  blue  waves  and  sunny  slopes,  and  a 
yacht  in  which  to  wing  his  flight  whenever  and  wherever  fancy  bids 
him  go.  In  the  glitter  and  glare  of  the  mid-day  sun  the  scene  along 
the  Bosphorus  is  lovely,  yet  its  loveliness  is  plainly  of  the  earth  ; 
but  as  we  return  cityward  in  the  eventide  the  dusky  shadows  of  the 
gloaming  settle  over  everything.  As  we  gradually  approach,  the 
city  seems  half  hidden  behind  a  vaporous  veil,  as  though,  in  imita- 
tion of  thousands  of  its  fair  occupants,  it  were  hiding  its  comeliness 
behind  the  yashmak:;   the  scores  of  tapering  minarets,  and  the 


232  FROM   SA:^   FEAN-CISCO   TO   TEHERAlSr. 

towers,  and  the  masts  of  the  crowded  shipping  of  all  nations  rise 
above  the  mist,  and  line  with  delicate  tracery  the  western  sliy, 
already  painted  in  richest  colors  by  the  setting  sun. 

On  Saturday  morning,  July  18th,  the  sound  of  martial  music 
announces  the  arrival  of  the  soldiers  from  Sbamboul,  to  guard  the 
streets  through  which  the  Sultan  will  pass  on  his  way  to  a  certain 
mosque  to  perform  some  ceremony  in  connection  with  the  feast  just 
over.  At  the  designated  place  I  find  the  streets  already  lined  with 
Circassian  cavalry  and  Ethiopian  zouaves  ;  the  latter  in  red  and 
blue  zouave  costumes  and  immense  turbans.  Mounted  gendarmes 
are  driving  civilians  about,  first  in  one  direction  and  then  in  another, 
to  try  and  get  the  streets  cleared,  occasionally  fetching  some  un- 
lucky wight  in  the  threadbare  shirt  of  the'  Galata  plebea  stinging 
cut  across  the  shoulders  with  short  raw-hide  whips — a  glaring  in- 
justice that  elicits  not  the  slightest  adverse  criticism  from  the  spec- 
tators, and  nothing  but  silent  contortions  of  face  and  body  from 
the  individual  receiving  the  attention.  I  finally  obtain  a  good 
place,  where  nothing  but  an  oj)en  plank  fence  and  a  narrow  plot  of 
ground  thinly  set  with  shrubbery  intervenes  between  me  and  the 
street  leading  from  the  palace.  In  a  few  minutes  the  approach  of  the 
Sultan  is  announced  by  the  appearance  of  half  a  dozen  Circassian 
outriders,  who  dash  wildly  down  the  streets,  one  behind  the  other, 
mounted  on  splendid  dapple-gray  chargers  ;  then  come  four  close 
carriages,  containing  the  Sultan's  mother  and  leading  ladies  of  the 
imperial  harem,  and  a  minute  later  appears  a  mounted  guard,  two 
abreast,  keen-eyed  fellows,  riding  slowly,  and  critically  eyeing 
everybody  and  everything  as  they  proceed  ;  behind  them  comes  a 
gorgeously  arrayed  individual  in  a  perfect  blaze  of  gold  braid  and 
decorations,  and  close  behind  him  follows  the  Sultan's  carriage, 
surrounded  by  a  small  crowd  of  pedestrians  and  horsemen,  who 
buzz  around  the  imperial  carriage  like  bees  near  a  hive,  the  pedes- 
trians especially  dodging  about  hither  and  thither,  hopping  nimbly 
over  fences,  crossing  gardens,  etc.,  keeping  pace  with  the  carriage 
meanwhile,  as  though  determined  upon  ferreting  out  and  destroy- 
ing anything  in  the  shape  of  danger  that  may  possibly  be  lurking 
along  the  route.  My  object  of  seeing  the  Sultan's  face  is  gained  ; 
but  it  is  only  a  momentary  glimpse,  for  besides  the  horsemen  flit- 
ting around  the  carriage,  an  officer  suddenly  appears  in  front  of  my 
position  and  unrolls  a  broad  scroll  of  paper  with  something  printed 
on  it,  which  he  holds  up.     Whatever  the  scroll  is,  or  the  object  of 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY. 


283 


its  display  may  be,  the  Sultan  bows  Ms  acknowledgments,  either  to 
the  scroll  or  to  the  officer  holding  it  up. 

Ere  I  am  in  the  Ottoman  capital  a  week,  I  have  the  opportunity  of 
witnessing  a  fire,  and  the  workings  of  the  Constantinople  Fire  De- 
partment. While  walking  along  Tramway  Street,  a  hue  and  cry  of 
"yamjoonvar!  yangooyi  var  !  "  (there  is  fire!  there  is  fire  !)  is  raised, 
and  three  barefooted  men,  dressed  in  the  scantiest  linen  clothes, 
come  charging  pell-mell  through  the  crowded  streets,  flourishing  long 
brass  hose-nozzles  to  clear- the  way  ;  behind  them  comes  a  crowd  of 


Constantinople  Fire  Laddies. 

about  twenty  others,  similarly  dressed,  four  of  whom  are  bearing  on 
their  shoulders  a  primitive  wooden  pump,  while  others  are  carrying 
leathern  water-buckets.  They  are  trotting  along  at  quite  a  lively 
pace,  shouting  and  making  much  unnecessary  commotion,  and  lastly 
comes  their  chief  on  horseback,  cantering  close  at  their  heels,  as 
though  to  keep  the  men  well  up  to  their  pace.  The  crowds  of 
pedestrians,  who  refrain  from  following  after  the  firemen,  and  who 
scurried  for  the  sidewalks  at  their  approach,  now  resume  their 
place  in  the  middle  of  the  street ;  but  again  the  wild  cry  of  "  yan- 
goon  varf"  resounds  along  the  narrow  street,  and  the  same  scene 


234  FROM  SAN  TEANCISCO  TO  TEHERAIf. 

of  citizens  scuttling  to  the  sidewalks,  and  a  hurrying  fire  brigade 
followed  by  a  noisy  crowd  of  gamins,  is  enacted  over  again,  as  an- 
other and  yet  another  of  these  primitive  organizations  go  scooting 
swiftly  past.  It  is  said  that  these  nimble-footed  firemen  do  almost 
miraculous  work,  considering  the  material  they  have  at  command— 
an  assertion  which  I  think  is  not  at  all  unUkely ;  but  the  wonder 
is  that  destructive  fires  are  not  much  more  frequent,  when  the 
fire  department  is  evidently  so  inefficient.  In  addition  to  the  reg- 
ular police  force  and  fire  department,  there  is  a  system  of  night 
watchmen,  called  bekjees,  who  walk  their  respective  beats  through- 
out the  night,  carrying  staves  heavily  shod  with  iron,  with  which 
they  pound  the  flagstones  with  a  resounding  "  thwack !  " 

Owing  to  the  hilliness  of  the  city  and  the  roughness  of  the 
streets,  much  of  the  carrying  business  of  the  city  is  done  hjhamals, 
a  class  of  sturdy-limbed  men,  who,  I  am  told,  are  mostly  Arme- 
nians. They  wear  a  sort  of  pack-saddle,  and  carry  loads  the  mere 
sight  of  which  makes  the  average  Westerner  groan.  For  canying 
such  trifles  as  crates  and  hogsheads  of  crockery  and  glass-ware,  and 
puncheons  of  rum,  four  hamals  join  strength  at  the  ends  of  two 
stout  poles.  Scarcely  less  marvellous  than  the  weights  they  carry 
is  the  apparent  ease  with  which  they  balance  tremendous  loads, 
piled  high  up  above  them,  it  being  no  infrequent  sight  to  see  a 
stalwart  hamal  with  a  veritable  Saratoga  trunk,  for  size,  on  his  back, 
with  several  smaller  trunks  and  valises  piled  above  it,  making  his 
way  down  Step  Street,  which  is  as  much  as  many  pedestrians  can 
do  to  descend  without  carrying  anything.  One  of  these  hamals, 
meandering  along  the  street  with  six  or  seven  hundred  pounds  of 
merchandise  on  his  back,  has  the  legal  right — to  say  nothing  of  the 
evident  moral  right — to  knock  over  any  unloaded  citizen  who  too 
tardily  yields  the  way.  From  observations  made  on  the  spot,  one 
cannot  help  thinking  that  there  is  no  law  in  any  countiy  to  be 
compared  to  this  one,  for  simon-pure  justice  between  man  and  man. 
These  are  most  assuredly  the  strongest-backed  and  hardest  work- 
ing men  I  have  seen  anywhere.  They  are  remarkably  trustworthy 
and  sure-footed,  and  their  chief  ambition,  I  am  told,  is  to  save  suf- 
ficient money  to  return  to  the  mountains  and  valleys  of  their  native 
Armenia,  where  most  of  them  have  wives  patiently  awaiting  their 
coming,  and  purchase  a  piece  of  land  upon  which  to  spend  their 
declining  years  in  ease  and  independence. 

Far  different  is  the  daily  lot  of  another  habitue  of  the  streets 


THROUGH   EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  235 

of  this  busy  capital — large,  pugnacious-looking  rams,  that  occupy 
pretty  much  the  same  position  in  Turkish  sporting  circles  that 
thoroughbred  bull-dogs  do  in  England,  being  kept  by  young  Turks 
solely  on  account  of  their  combative  propensities  and  the  facilities 
thereby  afforded  for  gambling  on  the  prowess  of  their  favorite 
animals.  At  all  hours  of  the  day  and  evening  the  Constantinople 
sport  may  be  met  on  the  streets  leading  his  wooUy  pet  tenderly 
with  a  string,  often  carrying  something  in  his  hand  to  coax  the  ram 
along.  The  wool  of  these  animals  is  frequently  clipped  to  give 
them  a  fanciful  aspect,  the  favorite  clip  being  to  produce  a  lion-like 
appearance,  and  they  are  always  carefully  guarded  against  the  fell 
inflaence  of  the  "evil  eye  "  by  a  circlet  of  blue  beads  and  pendent 
charms  suspended  from  the  neck.  This  latter  precautionary  meas- 
ure is  not  confined  to  these  hard-headed  contestants  for  the  cham- 
pionship of  Galata,  Pera,  and  Stamboul,  however,  but  grace  the 
necks  of  a  goodly  proportion  of  all  animals  met  on  the  streets,  not- 
ably the  saddle-ponies,  whose  services  are  offered  on  certain  street- 
corners  to  the  public. 

Occasionally  one  notices  among  the  busy  throngs  a  person 
wealing  a  turban  of  dark  green  ;  this  distinguishing  mark  being 
the  sole  privilege  of  persons  who  have  made  the  pilgrimage  to 
Mecca.  All  true  Mussulmans  are  supposed  to  make  this  pilgrimage 
some  time  diuing  theu*  lives,  either  in  person  or  by  employing  a 
substitute  to  go  in  their  stead,  wealthy  pashas  sometimes  paying 
quite  large  sums  to  some  imam  or  other  holy  person  to  go  as  their 
proxy,  for  the  holier  the  substitute  the  greater  is  supposed  to  be 
the  benefit  to  the  person  sending  him.  Other  persons  are  seen 
with  turbans  of  a  lighter  shade  of  gi-een  than  the  returned  Mecca 
pilgrims.  These  are  people  related  in  some  way  to  the  reigning 
sovereign. 

Constantinople  has  its  pecuHar  attractions  as  the  great  centre  of 
the  Mohammedan  world  as  represented  in  the  person  of  the  Sultan, 
and  during  the  five  hundred  years  of  the  Ottoman  dominion  here, 
almost  every  Sultan  and  gi-eat  personage  has  left  behind  him  some 
interesting  reminder  of  the  times  in  which  he  hved  and  the  won- 
derful possibilities  of  unlimited  wealth  and  power.  A  stranger 
wiU  scarcely  show  himself  upon  the  streets  ere  he  is  discovered  and 
accosted  by  a  guide.  From  long  experience  these  men  can  readily 
distinguish  a  new  ai'rival,  and  they  seldom  make  a  mistake  regard- 
in"  his  nationality.     Their  usual  mode  of  self-inti-oduction  is  to  ap- 


236  FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

proacli  bim,  and  ask  if  he  is  looking  for  the  American  consulate,  or 
the  EngUsh  post-office,  as  the  case  may  be,  and  if  the  stranger 
rephes  in  the  affirmative^  to  offer  to  show  the  way.  Nothing  is 
mentioned  about  charges,  and  the  uninitiated,  new  arrival  naturally 
wonders  what  kind  of  a  place  he  has  got  into, .  when,  upon  offering 
what  his  experience  in  Western  countries  has  taught  him  to  con- 
sider a  most  liberal  recompense,  the  guide  shrugs  his  shoulders, 
and  teUs  you  that  he  guided  a  gentleman  the  same  distance  yester- 
day and  the  gentleman  gave — usually  about  double  what  you  are 
offering,  no  matter  whether  it  be  one  cherik  or  half  a  dozen. 

An  afternoon  ramble  with  a  guide  through  Stamboul  embraces 
the  Museum  of  Antiquities,  the  St.  Sophia  Mosque,  the  Costume 
Museum,  the  thousand  and  one  columns,  the  Tomb  of  Sultan  Mah- 
moud,  the  world-renowned  Stamboul  Bazaar,  the  Pigeon  Mosque, 
the  Saraka  Tower,  and  the  Tomb  of  Sultan  Suliman  I.  Passing 
over  the  Museum  of  Antiquities,  which  to  the  average  observer  is 
very  similar  to  a  dozen  other  institutions  of  the  kind,  the  visitor 
very  naturally  approaches  the  portals  of  the  St.  Sophia  Mosque 
with  expectations  enlivened  by  having  ah-eady  read  wondrous  ac- 
counts of  its  magnificence  and  unapproachable  grandeur.  But,  let 
one's  fancy  riot  as  it  will,  there  is  small  fear  of  being  disappointed 
in  the  "  finest  mosque  in  Constantinople."  At  the  door  one  either 
has  to  take  off  his  shoes  and  go  inside  in  stocking-feet,  or,  in  addi- 
tion to  the  entrance  fee  of  two  cheriks,  "  backsheesh  "  the  attendant 
for  the  use  of  a  pair  of  overslippers.  People  with  holes  in  their 
socks  and  young  men  wearing  boots  three  sizes  too  small  are  the 
legitimate  prey  of  the  slipper-man,  since  the  average  human  would 
yield  up  almost  his  last  piastre  rather  than  promenade  around  in  St. 
Sophia  with  his  big  toe  protruding  through  his  foot-gear  like  a 
mud-turtle's  head,  or  run  the  risk  of  having  to  be  hauled  bare- 
footed to  his  hotel  in  a  hack,  from  the  impossibility  of  putting  his 
boots  on  again.  Devout  Mussulmans  are  bowing  their  foreheads 
down  to  the  mat-covered  floor  in  a  dozen  different  parts  of  the 
mosque  as  we  enter ;  tired-looking  pilgrims  from  a  distance  are 
curled  up  in  cool  corners,  happy  in  the  privilege  of  peacefully 
slumbering  in  the  holy  atmosphere  of  the  great  edifice  they  have, 
perhaps,  travelled  hundreds  of  miles  to  see  ;  a  dozen  half -naked 
youngsters  are  clambering  about  the  railings  and  otherwise  disport- 
ing themselves  after  the  manner  of  unrestrained  juveniles  every- 
where— free  to  gambol  about  to  their  hearts'  content,  providing 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  237 

tliej'  abstain  from  making  a  noise  that  -would  interfere  with  devo- 
tions. 

Upon  the  marvellous  mosaic  ceiling  of  the  great  dome  is  a  fig- 
ure of  the  Virgin  Mary,  which  the  Turks  have  frequently  tried  to 
cover  up  by  painting  it  over  ;  but  paint  as  often  as  they  will,  the 
figure  will  not  be  concealed.  On  one  of  the  upper  galleries  are  the 
"  Gate  of  Heaven  "  and  "Gate  of  Hell,"  the  former  of  which  the 
Turks  once  tried  their  best  to  destroy ;  but  every  arm  that  ventured 
to  raise  a  tool  against  it  instantly  became  paralyzed,  when  the 
would-be  destroyers  naturally  gave  up  the  job.  In  giving  the 
readers  these  facts  I  earnestly  request  them  not  to  credit  them  to 
my  personal  account ;  for,  although  earnestly  believed  in  by  a  cer- 
tain class  of  Christian  natives  here,  I  would  prefer  the  responsibility 
for  their  truthfulness  to  rest  on  the  broad  shoulders  of  tradition 
rather  than  on  mine. 

The  Turks  never  call  the  attention  of  visitors  to  these  reminders 
of  the  religion  of  the  infidels  who  built  the  structure,  at  such  an 
enormous  outlay  of  money  and  labor,  little  dreaming  that  it  would 
become  one  of  the  chief  glories  of  the  Mohammedan  world.  But 
the  door-keeper  who  follows  visitors  around  never  neglects  to 
point  out  the  shape  of  a  human  hand  on  the  wall,  too  high  up  to 
be  closely  examined,  and  volunteer  the  intelligence  that  it  is  the 
imprint  of  the  hand  of  the  first  Sultan  who  visited  the  mosque  after 
the  occupation  of  Constantinople  by  the  Osmanlis.  Perhaps,  how- 
ever, the  Mussulman,  in  thus  discriminating  between  the  traditions 
of  the  Greek  residents  and  the  alleged  hand-mark  of  the  fii-st  Sul- 
tan, is  actuated  by  a  laudable  desire  to  be  truthful  so  far  as  possi- 
ble ;  for  there  is  nothing  improbable  about  the  story  of  the  hand- 
■  mark,  inasmuch  as  a  hole  chipped  in  the  masonry,  an  application 
of  cement,  and  a  pressure  of  the  Sultan's  hand  against  it  before 
it  hardened,  give  at  once  something  for  visitors  to  look  at  through 
future  centuries  and  shake  their  heads  incredulously  about. 

Not  the  least  of  the  attractions  are  two  monster  wax  candles, 
which,  notwithstanding  their  lighting  up  at  innumerable  fasts  and 
feasts,  for  the  guide  does  not  know  how  many  years  past,  are  still 
eir^ht  feet  long  by  four  in  circumference  ;  but  more  wonderful  than 
the  monster  wax  candles,  the  brass  tomb  of  Constantine's  daughter, 
set  in  the  wall  over  one  of  the  massive  doors,  the  Sultan's  hand- 
mark,  the  figure  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  and  the  green  columns 
brought  from   B;uilbec  ;   above  everything  else  is  the  wonderful 


238  FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

mosaic-work.  The  mighty  dome  and  the  whole  vast  ceiling  are 
mosaic- work  in  which  tiny  squares  of  blue,  green,  and  gold  crystal 
are  made  to  work  out  patterns.  The  squares  used  are  tiny  par- 
ticles having  not  over  a  quarter-inch  surface  ;  and  the  amoimt  of 
labor  and  the  expense  in  covering  the  vast  ceiling  of  this  tremen- 
dous structure  with  incomputable  myriads  of  these  small  particles 
fairly  stagger  any  attempt  at  comprehension. 

An  interesting  hour  can  next  be  spent  in  the  Costume  Museum, 
where  life-size  figures  represent  the  varied  and  most  decidedly 
picturesque  costumes  of  the  different  officials  of  the  Ottoman  cap- 
ital in  previous  ages,  the  janizaries,  and  natives  of  the  different 
provinces.  Some  of  the  head-gear  in  vogue  at  Constantinople 
before  the  fez  were  tremendous  affairs,  but  the  fez  is  certainly  a 
step  too  far  in  the  opposite  direction,  being  several  degrees  more 
uncomfortable  than  nothing  in  the  broiling  sun  ;  the  fez  makes  no 
pretence  of  shading  the  eyes,  and  excludes  every  particle  of  air 
from  the  scalp.  The  thousand  and  one  columns  are  in  an  ancient 
Greek  reservoir  that  formerly  supplied  all  Stamboul  with  water. 
The  columns  number  but  three  hundred  and  thirty-four  in  reality, 
but  each  column  is  in  three  parts,  and  by  stretching  the  point  we 
have  the  fanciful  "thousand-and-one."  The  reservoir  is  reached  by 
descending  a  flight  of  stone  steps  ;  it  is  fiUed  in  with  earth  up  to 
the  upper  half  of  the  second  tier  of  columns,  so  that  the  lower  tier 
is  buried  altogether.  This  filling  up  was  done  in  the  days  of  the 
janizaries,  as  it  was  found  that  those  frisky  warriors  were  can-ying 
their  well-known  theory  of  "right  being  might  and  the  Devil  take 
the  weakest "  to  the  extent  of  robbing  unprotected  people  who  ven- 
tured to  pass  this  vicinity  after  dark,  and  then  consigning  them  to  the 
dark  depths  of  the  deserted  reservoir.  The  reservoir  is  now  occupied 
during  the  day  by  a  number  of  Jewish  silk-weavers,  who  work  here 
on  account  of  the  dampness  and  coolness  being  beneficial  to  the  silk. 

The  tomb  of  Mahmoud  is  next  visited  on  the  way  to  the  Bazaar. 
The  several  coffins  of  the  Sultan  Mahmoud  and  his  Sultana  and 
princesses  are  surrounded  by  massive  railings  of  pure  silver ;  mon- 
ster wax  candles  are  standing  at  the  head  and  foot  of  each  coffin, 
in  curiously  wrought  candlesticks  of  solid  silver  that  must  weigh 
a  hundred  pounds  each  at  least ;  ranged  around  the  room  are  silver 
caskets,  inlaid  with  mother-of-pearl,  in  which  rare  illumined  copies 
of  the  Koran  are  carefully  kept,  the  attendant  who  opened  one  for 
my  inspection  using  a  silk  pocket-handkerchief  to  turn  the  leaves. 


THROUGH  EUROPEAN  TURKEY.  239 

The  Stamboul  Bsizaar  well  deserves  its  renown,  since  there  is 
nothing  else  of  its  kind  in  the  whole  world  to  compare  with  it.  Its 
labyi-inth  of  little  stalls  and  shops  if  joined  together  in  one  straight 
line  would  extend  for  miles  ;  and  a  whole  day  might  be  spent  quite 
profitably  in  wandering  around,  watching  the  busy  scenes  of  bar- 
gaining and  manufacturing.  Here,  in  this  bewildering  maze  of 
buying  and  selling,  the  peculiar  life  of  the  Orient  can  be  seen  to 
perfection  ;  the  "  mysterious  veiled  lady "  of  the  East  is  seen 
thronging  the  narrow  traffic-ways  and  seated  in  every  stall ;  water- 
venders  and  venders  of  carpooses  (water-melons)  and  a  score  of  dif- 
ferent eatables  are  meandering  through.  Here,  if  your  guide  be  an 
honest  fellow,  he  can  pilot  you  into  stuffy  little  holes  f uU  of  an- 
tique articles  of  every  description,  where  genuine  bargains  can  be 
picked  up ;  or,  if  he  be  dishonest,  and  in  league  with  equally  dis- 
honest tricksters,  whose  places  are  antiquaries  only  in  name,  he  can 
lead  you  where  everything  is  basest  imitation.  In  the  former  case, 
if  anything  is  purchased  he  comes  in  for  a  small  and  not  unde- 
served commission  from  the  shopkeeper,  and  in  the  latter  for  per- 
haps as  much  as  thirty  per  cent.  I  am  told  that  one  of  these 
guides,  when  escorting  a  party  of  tourists  with  plenty  of  money 
to  spend  and  no  knowledge  whatever  of  the  real  value  or  genuine- 
ness of  antique  articles,  often  makes  as  much  as  ten  or  fifteen  pounds 
sterling  a  day  commission. 

On  the  way  from  the  Bazaar  we  call  at  the  Pigeon  Mosque,  so 
called  on  account  of  being  the  resort  of  thousands  of  pigeons,  that 
have  become  quite  tame  from  being  constantly  fed  by  visitors  and 
surrounded  by  human  beings.  A  woman  has  charge  of  a  store  of 
seeds  and  grain,  and  visitors  purchase  a  handful  for  ten  paras  and 
throw  to  the  pigeons,  who  flock  around  fearlessly  in  the  general 
scramble  for  the  food.  At  any  hour  of  the  day  Mussulman  ladies 
may  be  seen  here  feeding  the  pigeons  for  the  amusement  of  their 
children.  From  the  Pigeon  Mosque  we  ascend  the  Saraka  Tower, 
the  great  watch-tower  of  Stamboul,  from  tbe  summit  of  which  the 
news  of  a  fire  in  any  part  of  the  city  is  signalled,  by  suspending 
huge  frame-work  balls  covered  with  canvas  from  the  ends  of  pro- 
jecting poles  in  the  day,  and  lights  at  night.  Constant  watch  and 
ward  is  kept  over  the  city  below  by  men  snugly  housed  in  quarters 
near  the  summit,  who,  in  addition  to  their  duties  as  watchmen, 
turn  an  honest  cherik  occasionally  by  supplying  cups  of  coffee  to 
visitors. 


240  FROir   SAW    FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIERAW. 

No  fairer  site  ever  greeted  human  vision  than  the  prospect 
from  the  Tower  of  Saraka.  Stamboul,  Galata,  Pera,  and  Scutari, 
with  every  suburban  village  and  resort  for  many  a  mile  around, 
can  be  seen  to  perfection  from  the  commanding  height  of  Saraka 
Tower.  The  guide  can  here  point  out  eveiy  building  of  interest 
in  Stamboul — the  broad  area  of  roof  beneath  which  the  busy  scenes 
of  Stamboul  Bazaar  are  enacted  from  day  to  day,  the  great  Persian 
khan,  the  different  mosques,  the  Sultan's  palaces  at  Pera,  the  Im- 
perial kiosks  up  the  Bosphortis,  the  old  Grecian  aqueduct,  along 
which  the  water  for  supplying  the  great  reservoir  of  the  thousand 
and  one  columns  used  to  be  conducted,  the  old  city  walls,  and 
scores  of  other  interesting  objects  too  numerous  to  mention  here. 
On  the  opposite  hill,  across  the  Golden  Horn,  Galata  Watch-tower 
points  skyward  above  the  mosques  and  houses  of  Galata  and  Pera. 
The  two  bridges  connecting  Staraboul  and  Galata  are  seen  thronged 
with  busy  traffic  ;  a  forest  of  masts  and  spars  is  ranged  all  along 
the  Golden  Horn  ;  steamboats  are  plying  hither  and  thither  across 
the  Bosphorus  ;  the  American  cruiser  Quinnebaug  rides  at  anchor 
opposite  the  Imperial  water-side  palace  ;  the  blue  waters  of  the  Sea 
of  Marmora  and  the  Gulf  of  Ismidt  are  dotted  here  and  there  with 
snowy  sails  or  hned  with  the  smoke  of  steamships  ;  aU  combined  to 
make  the  most  lovely  panorama  imaginable,  and  to  which  the  coast- 
wise hills  and  more  lofty  mountains  of  Asia  Minor  in  the  distance 
form  a  most  appropriate  background. 

From  this  vantage-point  the  guide  wiU  not  neglect  whetting 
the  curiosity  of  his  charge  for  more  sight-seeing  by  pointing  out 
everything  that  he  imagines  would  be  interesting  ;  he  points  out 
a  hill  above  Scutari,  whence,  he  says,  a  splendid  view,  can  be  had 
of  "all  Asia  Minor,"  and  "we  could  walk  there  and  back  in  half 
a  day,  or  go  quicker  with  horses  or  donkej's  ; "  he  reminds  j-ou 
that  to-morrow  is  the  day  for  the  howUng  dervishes  in  Scutari, 
and  tells  you  that  by  starting  at  one  we  caii  walk  out  to  the  Eng- 
lish cemetery,  and  return  to  Scutari  in  time  for  the  howling  der- 
vishes at  four  o'clock,  and  manages  altogether  to  get  his  employer 
interested  in  a  programme,  which,  if  carried  out,  would  guarantee 
him  employment  for  the  nest  week.  On  the  way  back  to  Galata 
we  visit  the  tomb  of  "Sulieman  I.,  the  most  magnificent  tomb  in 
Stamboul.  Here,  before  the  coffins  of  Sulieman  I.,  Sulieman  11., 
and  his  brother  Ahmed,  are  monster  wax  candles,  that  have  stood 
sentry  here  for  three  hundred  and  fifty  years  ;  and  the  mosaic  dome 


THROUGH  EUEOPEAN  TURKEY.  241 

of  tlie  beautiful  edifice  is  studded  with  what  are  popularly  believed 
to  be  genuine  diamouds,  that  twinkle  down  on  the  curiously  gaz- 
ing visitor  like  stars  from  a  miniature  heaven.  The  attendant  tells 
the  guide,  in  answer  to  an  inquiry  from  me,  that  no  one  Uving 
knows  whether  they  are  genuine  diamonds  or  not,  for  never,  since 
the  day  it  was  finished,  over  three  centuries  and  a  half  ago,  has  any- 
one been  permitted  to  go  up  and  examine  them.  The  edifice  was 
so  perfectly  and  solidly  built  in  the  beginning,  that  no  repairs  of 
any  kind  have  ever  been  necessai-y  ;  and  it  looks  almost  like  a  new 
building  to-day. 

Not  being  able  to  spare  the  time  for  visiting  all  the  objects  of 
interest  enumerated  by  the  guide,  I  elect  to  see  the  howHng  der- 
vishes as  the  most  interesting  among  them.  Accordingly  we  take 
the  ferry-boat  across  to  Scutari  on  Thursday  afternoon  in  time  to 
visit  the  English  cemetery  before  the  dervishes  begin  their  peculiar 
services.  We  pass  through  one  of  the  largest  Mussulman  ceme- 
teries of  Constantinople,  a  bewUdering  area  of  tombstones  beneath 
a  grove  of  dai-k  cypresses,  so  crowded  and  disorderly  that  the 
oldest  gravestones  seem  to  have  been  pushed  down,  or  on  one  side, 
to  make  room  for  others  of  a  later  generation,  and  these  again  for 
still  others.  In  happy  comparison  to  the  disordered  area  of 
crowded  tombstones  in  the  Mohammedan  graveyard  is  the  Eng- 
lish cemetery,  where  the  soldiers  who  died  at  the  Scutari  hospital 
during  the  Crimean  war  were  buried,  and  the  English  residents  of 
Constantinople  now  bury  their  dead.  The  situation  of  the  Eng- 
hsh  cemetery  is  a  charming  spot,  on  a  sloping  bluff,  washed  by  the 
waters  of  the  Bosphorus,  where  the  requiem  of  the  murmuring 
waves  is  pei^petually  sung  for  the  brave  fellows  interred  there.  An 
Englishman  has  charge  ;  and  after  being  in  Turkey  a  month  it  is 
really  quite  refreshing  to  visit  this  cemetery,  and  note  the  scrupu- 
lous neatness  of  the  grounds.  The  keeper  must  be  industry  per- 
sonified, for  he  scarcely  permits  a  dead  leaf  to  escape  his  notice  ; 
and  the  four  angels  beaming  down  upon  the  grounds  from  the 
national  monument  erected  by  England,  in  memory  of  the  Crimean 
heroes,  were  they  real  visitors  from  the  better  land,  could  doubt- 
less give  a  good  account  of  his  stewardship. 

The  howling  dervishes  have  already  begun  to  howl  as  we  open 

the  portals  leading  into  their  place  of  worship  by  the  influence  of 

a  cherik  placed  in  the  open  palm  of  a  sable  eunuch  at  the  door ; 

but  it  is  only  the  overture,  for  it  is  half  an  horn-  later  when  the  inter- 

16 


.242  rROil   SAN   FRAWCISCO   TO   TEIIEKAN. 

esting  pm-'t  of  the  progratnine  begins.  The  firsf  lidur  seems  to  be 
-devoted  to  preliminary  meditations  and  comparatively  quiet  cere- 
monies ;  but  the  cruel-looking  instruments  of  self-flagellation  hang- 
ing on  the  wall,  and  a  choice  and  complete  assortment  of  drums 
and  other  noise-producing  but  unnielodious  instruments,  remind 
the  visitor  that  he.  is  in  the  presence  of  a  peculiar  people.  Sheep- 
skin mats  almost  cover  the  floor  of  the  room,  which  is  kept  scfupur 
lously  clean,  presumably  to  guard  against  the  worshippers  soiling 
their  lips  whenever  they  kiss  the  floor,  a  ceremony  which  they  per- 
form quite  frequently  during  the  first  hour  ;  and  everyone  who  pre- 
sumes to  tread  within'that  holy  precinct  removes  his  over-shoes,  if 
■he  is  wearing  any,  otherwise  lie  enters  in  his  stockings. 

At  five  o'clock  the  excitement  begins ;  thirty  or  forty  men  are 
ranged  around  one  end  of  the  Toom,  bowing  themselves  about  most 
violently,  and  keeping  time  to  the  movements  of  their  bodies  with 
shouts  of  "Allah  !  Allah!  "  and  then  branching  off  into  a  howling 
chorus  of  Mussulman  supplications,  that,  unintelligible  as  they  are 
to  the  infidel  ear,  are  not  altogether  devoid  of  melody  in  the  expres-r 
sion,  the  Turkish  language  abounding  in  words  in  which  there  is  a 
world  of  meUifluousness.  A  dancing  dervish,  who  has  been  patiently 
awaiting  at  the  inner  gate,  now  receives  a  nod  of  permission  from 
the  priest,  and,  after  laying  aside  an  outer  garment,  waltzes  nimbly 
into  the  room,  and  straightway  begins  spinning  round  like  a  balr 
let-dancer  in  Italian  opera,  his  arms  extended,  his  long  skirt  form- 
ing a  complete  circle  around,  him  as  he  revolves,  and  his  eyes  fixed 
with  a  determined  gaze  into  vacancy.  Among  the  howlers  is  a 
negro,  who. is  six  feet  three  at  least,  not  in  his  socks,  but  in  the  fin- 
est pair  of  under-shoes  in  the  room,  and  whether  it  be  in  the  cere- 
liioiiy  of  kissing  the  floor,  knocking  foreheads  against  the  same,  kiss- 
ing the  hand  of  the  priest,  or  in  the  howling  and  bodilj'  contortions, 
this  towering  son  of  Ham  performs  his  part  with  a  grace  that  brings 
him  conspicuously  to  the  fore  in  this  respect.  But  as  the  contor- 
tions gradually  become  more  violent,  aiid  the  cry  of  "  Allah  akbar  ! 
Allah  hai ! "  degenerates  into  violent  grunts  of  "  h-o-o-o-o-a-hoo- 
hoo,"  the  half-exhausted  devotees  fling  aside  everything  but  a  white 
shroud,  and  the  perspu'atiou  fairly  streams  off  them,  froni  such 
violent  exercise  in  the  hot  weather  and  close  atmosphere  of  the  small 
room.  The  exercises  make  rapid  inroads,  upon  the  tall  negro's 
powers  of  endurance,  and  he  steps  to  one  side  and  takes  a  breath- 
ing-spell of  five  minutes,  after  which  he  resumes  his  place  again, 


THROUGH   EUEOPEATSr   TURKEY.  243 

find,  in  spite  of  the  ever-increasing-  violence  of  both  lung  and  mus- 
cular exercise,  and  the  extra  exertion  imposed  by  his  great  height, 
he  keeps  it  up  heroically  to  the  end. 

For  twenty-five  minutes  by  my  watch, .  the  one  lone  dancing 
dervish— who  appears  to  be  a  visitor  merely,  but  is  accorded  the 
brotherly  privilege  of  whirling  round  in  silence  while  the  others 
howl — spina  round  and  round  like  a  tireless  top,  making  not  the 
slightest  sound,  spinning  in  a  long,  persevering,  continuous  whirl, 
as  though  determined  to  prove  himself  holier  than  the  howlers,  by 
spinning  longer  than  they  can  keep  up  their  howling — a  fair  test 
of  fanatical  endurance,  so  to  speak.  One  cannot  help  admiring  the 
religious  fervor  and  determination  of  purpose  that  impel  this  lone 
figure  silently  around  on  his  axis  for  twenty-five  minutes,  at  a  speed 
that  would  upset  the  equilibrium  of  anybody  but  a  dancing  dervish 
in  thirty  seconds  ;  and  there  is  something  really  heroic  in  the 
manner  in  which  he  at  last  suddenly  stops,  and,  without  uttering  a 
sound  or  betraying  any  sense  of  dizziness  whatever  from  the  exer- 
cise, puts  on  his  coat  again  and  departs  in  silence,  conscious,  no 
doubt,  of  being  a  holier  person  than  all  the  howlers  put  together, 
even  though  they  are  still  keeping  it  up.  As  unmistakable  signals 
of  distress  are  involuntarily  hoisted  by  the  violently  exercising 
devotees,  and  the  weaker  ones  quietly  fall  out  of  line,  and  the  mili- 
tary precision  of  the  twists  of  body  and  bobbing  and  jerking  of 
head  begins  to  lose  something  of  its  regularity,  the  six  "  encoura- 
gers,"  ranged  on  sheep-skins  before  the  line  of  howling  men,  like 
non-commissioned  officers  before  a  squad  of  new  recruits,  increase 
their  encouraging  cries  of  "  Allah  !  Allah  alcbar  1  "  as  though  fearful 
that  the  din  might  subside,  on  account  of  the  several  already  ex- 
hausted organs  of  articulation,  unless  they  chimed  in  more  lustily 
and  helped  to  swell  the  volume. 

Little  children  now  come  trooping  in,  seeking  with  eager  antici- 
pation the  happy  privilege  of  being  ranged  along  the  floor  like 
sardines  in  a  tin  box,  and  having  the  priest  walk  along  theii-  bod- 
ies, stepping  from  one  to  the  other  along  the  row,  and  returning 
the  same  way,  while  two  assistants  steady  him  by  holding  his  hands. 
In  the  case  of  the  smaller  children,  the  priest  considerately  steps 
on  their  thighs,  to  avoid  throwing  their  internal  apparatus  out  of 
gear  ;  but  if  the  recipient  of  his  holy  attentions  is,  in  his  estimation, 
strong  enough  to  run  the  risk,  he  steps  square  on  their  backs. 
The  little  things  jump  up  as  sprightly  as  may  be,  kiss  the  priest's 


244  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TT-:HERAN. 

hand  fervently,  and  go  trooping  out  of  the  door,  apparently  well 
pleased  with  the  novel  performance.  Finally  human  nature  can 
endure  it  no  longer,  and' the. performance  terminates  in  a  long, 
despairing  wail  of  "Allah!  Allah  1  Allah!"  The  exhausted  de- 
votees, soaked  wet  with  perspiration,  step  forward,  and  receive 
what  I  take  to  be  rather  an  inadequate  reward  for  what  they  have 
been  subjecting  themselves  to — viz.,  the  privilege  of  kissing  the 
priest's  already  much-kissed  hand,  and  at  5.45  p.m.  the  performance 
is  over.  I  take  my  departure  in  time  to  catch  the  sis  o'clock  boat 
for  Galata,  well  satisfied  with  the  finest  show  I  ever  saw  for  a  cherik. 

I  have  abeady  made  mention  of  there  being  many  beautiful 
sea-side  places  to  which  ConstantinopoUtans  resort  on  Sundays  and 
holidays,  and  among  them  all  there  is  no  lovelier  spot  than  the 
island  of  Prinkipo,  one  of  the  Prince's  Islands  group,  situated  some 
twelve  miles  from  Constantinople,  down  the  Gulf  of  Ismidt.  Shel- 
ton  Bey  (Colonel  Shelton),  an  English  gentleman,  who  superintends 
the  Sultan's  cannon-foundry  at  Tophana,  and  the  well-known  author 
of  Shelton's  "  Mechanic's  Guide,"  owns  the  finest  steam-yacht  on 
the  Bosphorus,  and  three  Sundays  out  of  the  five  I  remain  here, 
this  gentleman  and  his  excellent  lady  kindly  invite  me  to  visit 
Prinkipo  with  them  for  the  day. 

On  the  way  over  we  usually  race  with  the  regular  passenger 
steamer,  and  as  the  Bey's  yacht  is  no  plaj'thing  for  size  and  speed, 
we  generally  manage  to  keep  close  euough  to  amuse  ourselves 
with  the  comments  on  the  beauty  and  speed  of  our  little  craft  from 
the  crowded  deck  of  the  other  boat.  Sometimes  a  very  distin- 
guished person  or  two  is  aboard  the  yacht  with  our  little  company, 
.personages  known  to  the  Bey,  who  having  arrived  on  the  passen- 
ger-boat, accept  invitatious  for  a  cruise  around  the  island,  or  to 
dine  aboard  the  yacht  as  she  rides  at  anchor  before  the  town.  But 
the  advent  of  the  "Americanish  Velocipediste  "  and  his  glistenin" 
machine,  a  wonderful  thing  that  Prinkipo  never  saw  the  Uke  of  be- 
fore, creates  a  genuine  sensation,  and  becomes  the  subject  of  a 
nine-days'  wonder.  Prinkipo  is  a  delightful  gossipy  island,  occu- 
pied during  the  summer  by  the  families  of  wealthy  Constanti- 
uopolitans  and  leading  business  men,  who  go  to  and  fro  daily 
between  the  little  island  and  the  city  on  the  passenger-boats  re"-, 
ularly  plying  between  them,  and  is  visited  every  Sunday  by  crowds 
in  search  of  the  health  and  pleasure  afforded  by  a  day's  outin". 

While  here  at  Constantinople  I  received  by  mail  from  America  a 


246  FROM    SAN   FltANCISCO   TO   TEHERAK. 

Butcher  spoke  cyclometer,  and  on  the  second  visit  to  Prinkipo  I 
measured  the  road  which  has  been  made  around  half  the  island  ; 
the  distance  is  four  English  miles  and  a  fraction.  The  road  was 
built  by  refugees  employed  by  the  Sultan  during  the  last  Eusso- 
Turldsh  war,  and  is  a  very  good  one  ;  for  part  of  the  distance  it 
leads  between  splendid  villas,  on  the  verandas  of  which  are  seen 
groups  of  the  wealth  and  beauty  of  the  Osmanli  capital,  Armenians, 
Greeks,  and  Turks — the  latter  ladies  sometimes  take  the  privilege  of 
dispensing  with  the  yashmah  during  their  visits  to  the  comparative 
seclusion  of  Prinkipo  villas — with  quite  a  sprinkling  of  English  and 
Europeans.  The  sort  of  impression  made  upon  the  imaginations 
of  Prinkipo  young  ladies  by  the  bicycle  is  apparent  from  the  follow- 
ing comment  made  by  a  bevy  of  them  confidentially  to  Shelton  Bey, 
and  kindly  written  out  by  him,  together  with  the  English  interpreta- 
tion thereof.  The  Prinkipo  ladies'  compliment  to  the  first  bicycle 
rider  visiting  their  beautiful  island  is :  "  0  Bizdan  kaydore  ghyur- 
ulduzug  em  nezaJcetU  sadi  Mr  dakiha  utehum  ghyuriorus  nazaman  Mr 
dah  bacJdorus  0  Mttum  gitmush."  (He  glides  noiselessly  and  grace- 
fully past ;  we  see  him  only  for  a  moment ;  when  we  look  again  he 
is  quite  gone  )  The  men  are  of  course  less  poetical,  their  ideas  run- 
ning more  to  the  practical  side  of  the  possibilities  of  the  new  ar- 
rival, and  they  comment  as  follows  :  "  Onum  beyghir  hich-Mr-sMy 
yemiore  hich-bir-sh&y  ichmiore  hich  yorumliore  ma  sheitan  gibi  ghiti- 
ore."  (His  horse,  he  eats  nothing,  drinks  nothing,  never  gets  tired, 
and  goes  like  the  very  devil.)  It  is  but  fair  to  add,  however,  that  any 
bold  Occidental  contemplating  making  a  descent  on  Prinkipo  v?ith  a 
"  sociable"  with  a  view  to  delightful  moonlight  rides  with  the  fair 
authors  of  the  above  poetic  contribution  will  find  himself  "  all  at 
sea  "  upon  his  arrival,  unless  he  brings  a  three-seated  machine,  so 
that  the  mamma  can  be  accommodated  with  a  seat  behind,  since 
the  daughters  of  Prinkipo  society  never  wander  forth  by  moon- 
light, or  any  other  light,  unless  thus  accompanied,  or  by  some 
equally  staid  and  solicitous  relative. 

For  the  Asiatic  tour  I  have  invented  a  "  bicycle  tent  " — a  handy 
contrivance  by  which  the  bicycle  is  made  to  answer  the  place  of 
tent  poles.  The  material  used  is-  fine,  strong  sheeting,  that  will 
roll  up  into  a  small  space,  and  to  make  it  thoroughly  water-proof, 
I  have  dressed  it  with  boiled  linseed  oil.  My  footgear  henceforth 
will  be  Circassian  moccasins,  with  the  pointed  toes  sticking  up  like 
the  prow  of  a  Venetian  gallej;.     I  have  had  a  pair  made  to  order 


TIIEOUGH   EUKOPEAN   TUKKEY. 


247 


by  a  native  slioemaker  in  Galata,  an  J,  for  either  walking  or  pedal- 
ling, they  are  ahead  of  any  foot-gear  I  ever  wore  ;  they  are  as 
easy  as  a  three-year-old  glove,  and  last  indefinitely,  and  for  faiicir 
fulness  in  appearance,  the  shoes  of  civUizatiou  are  nowhere. 

Three  days  before  starting  out  I  receive  friendly  warnings  from 
both  the  English  and  American  consul  that  Turkey  in  Asia  is  in- 
fested with  brigands,  the  former  going  the  length  of  saying  that 
if  he  had  the  power  he  would  refuse  me  permission  to  meander 
forth  upon  so  risky  an  undertaking.  I  have  every  confidence,  how- 
ever, that  the  bicycle  will  prove  an  effectual  safeguard  against  any 
undue  familiarity  on  the  part  of  these  frisky  citizens.  Since  reach- 
ing Constantinople  the  papers  here  have  published  accounts  of 
recent  exploits  accomplished  by  brigands  near  Eski  Baba.  I  have 
little  doubt  but  that  more 
than  one  brigand  was  among 
my  highly  interested  audi- 
ences there  on  that  memor- 
able Sunday. 

The  Turkish  authorities 
seem  to  have  made  them- 
selves quite  familiar  with  my 
intentions,  and  upon  making 
application  for  a  teskorli 
(Turkish  passport)  they  re- 
quired me  to  specif}',  as  far 
as  possible,  the  precise  route 
I  intend  traversing  from  Scutari  to  Ismfdt,  Angora,  Erzeroum, 
and  beyond,  to  the  Persian  frontier.  An  English  gentleman  who 
has  lately  travelled  through  Persia  and  the  Caucasus  tells  me  that 
the  Persians  are  quite  agreeable  people,  their  only  fault  being  the 
one  common  failing  of  the  East :  a  disposition  to  charge  whatever 
they  think  it  possible  to  obtain  for  anything.  The  Circassians 
seem  to  be  the  great  bugbear  in  Asiatic  Turkey.  I  am  told  that 
once  I  get  beyond  the  country  that  these  people  range  over — who 
are  regarded  as  a  sort  of  natural  and  half -privileged  freebooters — I 
shall  be  reasonably  safe  from  molestation.  It  is  a  common  thing  in 
Constantinople  when  two  men  are  quarrelling  for  one  to  threaten 
to  give  a  Circassian  a  couple  of  medjedis- to  kill  the  other.  The 
Circassian  is  to  Turkey  what  the  mythical  "  bogie  "  is  to  England  ; 
mothers  threaten,  undutiful  daughters,  fathers  unruly  sons,  and 


Bicycle  Tent. 


248  FKOM   SAN   FKANCISCO   TD   TEHERAN. 

everj'body  their  enemies  generally,  with  the  Circassian,  who,  Low- 
ever,  unlike  the  "bogie"  of  the  English  household,  is  a  real  ma- 
terial presence,  popularly  understood  to  be  ready  for  any  devilment 
a  person  may  hire  him  to  do. 

The  bull-dog  revolver,  under  the  protecting  presence  of  which  I 
have  travelled  thus  far,  has  to  be  abandoned  here  at  Constantinople, 
having  proved  itself  quite  a  wayward  weapon  since  it  came  from  the 
gunsmith's  hands  in  Vienna,  who  seemed  to  have  upset  the  internal 
mechanism  in  some  mysterious  mannei*  while  boring  out  the  cham- 
bers a  trifle  to  accommodate  European  cartridges.  My  experience 
thus  far  is  that  a  revolver  has  been  more  ornamental  than  useful ; 
but  I  am  now  about  penetrating  far  different  countries  to  any  I 
have  yet-  traversed.  Plenty  of  excellently  finished  German  imita- 
tions of  the  Smith  &  Wesson  revolver  are  found  in  the  magazines 
of  Constantinople  ;  but,  apart  from  it  being  the  duty  of  eveiy  Eng- 
lishman or  American  to  discourage,  as  far  as  his  power  goes,  the 
unscrupulousness  of  German  manufacturers  in  placing  upon  foreign 
markets  what  are,  as  far  as  outward  appearance  goes,  the  exact 
counterparts  of  our  own  goods,  for  half  the  money,  a  genuine 
American  revolver  is  a  different  weapon  from  its  would-be  imitators, 
and  I  hesitate  not  to  pay  the  price  for  the  genuine  article.  Re- 
membering the  narrow  escape  on  several  occasions  of  having  the 
bull-dog  confiscated  by  the  Turkish  gendarmerie,  and  having  heard, 
moreover,  in  Constantinople,  that  the  same  class  of  officials  in  Tur- 
key in  Asia  will  most  assuredly  want  to  confiscate  the  Smith  & 
Wesson  as  a  matter  of  private  speciilation  and  enterprise,  I  obtain 
through  the  British  consul  a  teskere  giving  me  special  permission 
to  carry  a  revolver.  Subsequent  events,  however,  proved  this  pre- 
caution to  be  unnecessary,  for  a  more  courteous,  obliging,  and 
gentlemanly  set  of  fellows,  according  to  their  enlightenment,  I 
never  met  anywhere,  than  the  government  officials  of  Asiatic  Turkey. 

Were  I  to  make  the  simple  statement  that  I  am  starting  into 
Asia  with  a  pair  of  knee-breeches  that  are  worth  fourteen  English 
pounds  (about  sixty-eight  dollars)  and  offer  no  further  explanation, 
I  should,  in  all  probability,  be  accused  of  a  high  order  of  prevari- 
cation. Nevertheless,  such  is  the  fact ;  for  among  other  subter- 
fuges to  outwit  possible  brigands,  and  kindred  citizens,  I  have  made 
cloth-covered  buttons  out  of  Turkish  liras  (eighteen  shillings 
English),  and  sewed  them  on  in  place  of  ordinary  buttons.  Panta- 
loon buttons  at  $54  a  dozen  are  a  luxury  that  my  wildest  dreams 


THROUGH   EUROPEAN   TURKEY. 


249 


never  soared  to  before,  and  I  am  afraid  many  a  thrifty  person  will 
condemn  me  for  extravagance  ;  but  the  "  splendor  "  of  the  Orient 
demands  it ;  and  the  extreme  handiness  of  being  able  to  cut  off  a 
button,  and  with  it  buy  provisions  enough .  to  load  down  a  mule, 
would  be  all  the  better  appreoiated  if  one  had  just  been  released 
from  the  hands  of  the  Philistines  with  nothing  but  his  clothes — 


^.\Sj\  j^\Sj  J^_»    ^J-J  ,a.lljy  Jli. 

^-».3l.  ill  ilj-  JjSj\j\  ^  ii\  ay 
VjU  ijJ-\    *>\-mB   <(Jil  J>jl!;_^  JjT  A_« 


'-*'\?'l/  *:?J?  *  AiJl^J  4cjKil  J,(jj,1j 


A  Notice  of  my  Journey  in  the  Sultan's  Official   Organ. 

and  buttons — and  the  bicycle.  With  these  things  left  to  him,  one 
could  afford  to  regard  the  whole  matter  as  a  joke,  expensive,  per- 
haps, but  nevertheless  a  joke  compared  with  what  might  have  been. 
The  Constantinople  papers  have  advertised  me  to  start  on  Mon- 
day, August  10th,  "  direct  from  Scutari."  I  have  received  friendly 
warnings  from  several  Constantinople  gentlemen,  that  a  band  of 
brigands,   under  the  leadership  of  an  enterprising  chief  named 


250  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

Mahmoud  Pehlivan,  operating  about  thirty  mileS  out  of  Scutari; 
have  beyond  a  doubt  received  intelligence  of  this  fact  from  spies 
here  in  the  city,  and,  to  avoid  running  direct  into  the  lion's 
mouth,  I  decide  to  make  the  start  from  Ismidt,  about  twenty-five 
miles  beyond  their  rendezvous.  A  Greek  gentleman,  who  is  a 
British  subject,  a  Mr.  J.  T.  Corpi,  whom  I  have  met  here,  fell  into 
the  hands  of  this  same  gang,  and  being  known  to  them  as  a  wealthy 
gentleman,  had  to  fork  over  £3,000  ransom  ;  and  he  says  I  would 
be  in  great  danger  of  molestation  in  venturing  from  Sciitari  to 
Ismidt  after  my  intention  to  do  so  has  been  published. 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE  START  THROUGH  ASIA. 

In  addition  to  a  cycler's  ordinary  outfit  and  the  before-mentioned 
small  wedge  tent  I  provide  myself  with  a  few  extra  spokes,  a  cake 
of  tire  cement,  and  an  extra  tire  for  the  rear  wheel.  This  latter, 
together  with  twenty  yards  of  small,  stout  rope,  I  wrap  snugly 
around  the  front  axle  ;  the  tent  and  spare  underclothing,  a  box  of 
revolver  cartridges,  and  a  small  bottle  of  sewing-machine  oil  are 
consigned  to  a  luggage-carrier  behind  ;  while  my  writing  materials, 
a  few  medicines  and  small  sundries  find  a  repository  in  my  White- 
house  sole-leathei:  case  on  a  Lamson  carrier,  which  also  accommo- 
dates a  suit  of  gossamer  rubber. 

The  result  of  my  study  of  the  various  routes  through  Asia  is  a 
determination  to  push  on  to  Teheran,  the  capital  of  Persia,  and 
there  spend  the  approaching  winter,  completing  my  journey  to  the 
Pacific  next  season. 

Accordingly  nine  o'clock  on  Monday  morning,  August  10th,  finds 
me  aboard  the  little  Turkish  steamer  that  plies  semi-weekly  between 
Ismidt  and  the  Ottoman  capital,  my  bicycle,  as  usual,  the  centre  of 
a  crowd  of  wondering  Orientals.  This  Ismidt  steamer,  with  its 
motley  crowd  of  passengers,  presents  a  scene  that  upholds  with 
more  eloquence  than  words  Constantinople's  claim  of  being  the 
most  cosmopolitan  city  in  the  world  ;  and  a  casual  observer,  judg- 
ing only  from  the  evidence  aboard  the  boat,  would  pronounce  it 
also  the  most  democratic.  There  appears  to  be  no  first,  second,  or 
third  class  ;  everybody  pays  the  same  fare,  and  everybody  wanders 
at  his  own  sweet  will  into  every  nook  and  corner  of  the  upper 
deck,  perches  himself  on  top  of  the  paddle-boxes,  loafs  on  the 
pilot's  bridge,  or  reclines  among  the  miscellaneous  assortment  of 
freight  pUed  up  in  a  confused  heap  on  the  fore-deck;  in  short, 
everybody  seems  perfectly  free  to  follow  the  bent  of  his  inclina- 
tions, except  to  penetrate  behind  the  scenes  of  the  aftmost  deck, 
where,  cai'efuUy  hidden  from  the  rude  gaze  of  the  male  passengers 


252  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

by  a  canvas  partition,  the  Moslem  ladies  have  their  little  world  of 
gossip  and  coffee,  and  fragrant  cigarettes.  Every  public  conveyance 
in  the  Orient  has  this  walled-off  retreat,  in  which  Osmanli  fair 
ones  can  remove  their  yashmaks,  smoke  cigarettes,  and  comport 
themselves  with  as  much  freedom  as  though  in  the  seclusion  of  their 
apartments  at  home. 

Greek  and  Armenian  ladies  mingle  with  the  main-deck  passen- 
gers, however,  the  picturesque  costumes  of  the  former  contributing 
not  a  little  to  the  general  Oriental  effect  of  the  scene.  The  dress 
of  the  Armenian  ladies  differs  but  little  from  Western  costumes, 
and  their  deportment  would  wreathe  the  benign  countenance  of 
the  Lord  Chamberlain  with  a  serene  smile  of  approval ;  but  the 
minds  and  inclinations  of  the  gentle  Hellenic  dames  seem  to  i-un  in 
rather  a  contrary  channel.  Singly,  in  twos,  or  in  cosey,  confidential 
coteries,  arm  in  arm,  they  promenade  here  and  there,  saying  httle 
to  each  other  or  to  anybody  else.  By  the  picturesqueness  of  their 
apparel  and  their  seemingly  bold  demeanor  they  attract  to  them- 
selves more  than  their  just  share  of  attention  ;  but  with  well- 
feigned  ignorance  of  this  they  divide  most  of  their  time  and  atten- 
tion between  rolling  cigarettes  and  smoking  them.  Their  heads 
are  bound  with  jaunty  silk  handkerchiefs ;  they  wear  rakish-looking 
short  jackets,  down  the  back  of  which  their  luxuriant  black  hair 
dangles  in  two  tresses ;  but  the  crowning  masterpiece  of  their 
costume  is  that  wonderful  garment  which  is  neither  petticoat  nor 
pantaloons,  and  which  can  be  most  properly  described  as  "  inde- 
scribable," which  tends  to  give  the  wearer  rather  an  unfeminine  ap- 
pearance, and  is  not  to  be  compared  with  the  really  sensible  and 
not  unpicturesque  nether  garment  of  a  Turkish  lady. 

The  male  companions  of  these  Greek  women  are  not  a  bit  be- 
hind them  in  the  matter  of  gay  colors  and  startling  surprises  of  the 
Levantine  clothier's  art,  for  they  hkewise  are  in  all  the  bravery  of 
holiday  attire.  There  is  quite  a  number  of  them  aboai-d,  and  they 
now  appear  at  their  best,  for  they  are  going  to  take  part  in  wedding 
festivities  at  one  of  the  Uttle  Greek  villages  that  nestle  amid  the 
vine-clad  slopes  along  the  coast — white-painted  villages,  that  from 
the  deck  of  the  moving  steamer  look  as  though  they  have  been 
placed  here  and  there  by  nature's  artistic  hand  for  the  sole  purpose 
of  embellishing  the  lovely  green  frame-work  that  surrounds  the 
blue  waters  of  the  Ismidt  Gulf.  Several  of  these  merry-makers 
enliven  the  passing  hours  with  music  and  dancing,  to  the  delight 


THE  STAKT  THROUGH  ASIA.  253 

of  a  numerous  audience,  -while  a  second  ever-changing  but  never- 
dispersing  audience  is  gathered  around  the  bicycle. 

The  verbal  comments  and  Solomon-like  opinions,  given  in  ex- 
pressive pantomime,  of  this  latter  garrulous  gathering  concerning 
the  machine  and  myself,  I  can  of  course  but  partly  understand ; 
but  occasionally  some  wiseacre  suddenly  becomes  inflated  with  the 
idea  that  he  has  succeeded  in  unravelling  the  knotty  problem,  and 
forthwith  proceeds  to  explain,  for  the  edification  of  his  fellow-pas- 
sengers, the  modus  operandi  of  riding  it,  supplementing  his  words 
by  the  most  extraordinary  gestures.  The  audience  is  usually  very 
attentive  and  highly  interested  in  these  explanations,  and  may  be 
considerably  enlightened  by  their  self-constituted  tutors,  whose  sole 
advantage  over  their  auditors,  so  far  as  bicycles  are  concerned, 
consists  simply  in  a  belief  iu  the  superiority  of  their  own  pai-ticular 
powers  of  penetration.  But  to  the  only  person  aboard  the  steamer 
who  really  does  know  anything  at  all  about  the  subject,  the  chief 
end  of  their  exposition  seems  to  be  gained  when  they  have  duly 
impressed  upon  the  minds  of  their  heai-ers  that  the  bicycle  is  to 
ride  on,  and  that  it  goes  at  a  rate  of  speed  quite  beyond  the  com- 
prehension of  their — the  auditora' — minds;  "Bin,  bin,  bin/  Chu, 
chu,  chu  !  Haidi,  haidi,  haidi !  "  being  repeated  with  a  vehemence 
that  is  intended  to  impress  upon  them  little  less  than  flying-Dutch- 
man speed. 

The  deck  of  a  Constantinople  steamer  affords  splendid  oppor- 
tunity for  character  study,  and  the  Ismidt  packet  is  no  exception. 
Nearly  every  person  aboard  has  some  characteristic,  peculiar  and 
distinct  from  any  of  the  others.  At  intervals  of  about  fifteen  min- 
utes a  couple  of  Armenians,  bare-footed,  bare-legged,  and  ragged, 
clamber  with  much  difficulty  and  scraping  of  shins  over  a  large  pile 
of  empty  chicken-crates  to  visit  one  particular  crate.  Theii-  collec- 
tive baggage  consists  of  a  thin,  half-grown  chicken  tied  by  both 
feet  to  a  small  bag  of  barley,  which  is  to  prepare  it  for  the  useful 
but  inglorious  end  of  all  chickendom.  They  have  imprisoned  their 
unhappy  chai'ge  in  a  crate  that  is  most  difficult  to  get  at.  Why 
they  didn't  put  it  in  one  of  the  nearer  crates,  what  their  object  is 
in  climbing  up  to  visit  it  so  frequently,  and  why  they  always  go 
together,  are  problems  of  the  knottiest  kind. 

A  far  less  difficult  riddle  is  the  case  of  a  middle-aged  man,  whose 
costume  and  avocation  explain  nothing,  save  that  he  is  not  an  Os- 
manli.     He  is  a  passenger  homevvai-d  bound  to  one  of  the  coast  ^il- 


254 


FROM   SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


lages,  and  he  constantly  circulates  among  the  crowd  with  a  baskfet 
of  water-melons,  which  he  has  brought  aboard  "  on  spec,"  to  vend 
among  his  fellow-passengers,  hoping  thereby  to  gain  sufficient  to 
defray  the  cost  of  his  passage.  Seated  on  whatever  they  can  find  to 
perch  upon,  near  the  canvas  partition,  all  unmoved  by  the  gay  and 
stin-ing  scenes  before  them,  is  a  group  of  Mussulman  pilgrims  froni 
some  interior  town,  returning  from  a  pilgi-image  to  Stamboul — 
fine-looking  Osmanli  graybeards,  whose  haughty  reserve  not  even 
the  bicycle  is  able  to  completely  overcome,  although  it  proves  more 
efficacious  in  subduing  it  and  waking  them  out  of  their  habitual 


Osmanli  Pilgrims. 


contemplative  attitude  than  anything  else  aboard.  Two  of  these 
men  are  of  magnificent  physique  ;  their  black  eyes,  i-ather  full  lips, 
and  swarthy  skins  betraying  Arab  blood.  In  addition  to  the  long 
daggers  and  antiquated  pistols  so  universally  worn  in  the  Orient, 
tUey  are  armed  with  fine,  large,  pearl-handled  revolvers,  and  thev 
sit  cross-legged,  smoking  cigarette  after  cigarette  in  silent  medita- 
tion, paying  uo  heed  even  to  the  merry  music  and  the  dancing  of  the 
Greeks. 

At  Jelova,  the  first   village   the   steamer  halts   at,   a  coupleof 
zapliehs  come  aboard  with  two  prisoners  whom  .they  are  convey- 


THE   STAKT   TIIUOUGH   ASIA.  255 

ing  to  Ismidt.  Tliese  men  are  lower-class  criminals,  aiul  tlieii- 
■wretched  appearance  betxays  the  utter  absence  of  hygienic  consid- 
erations ou  the  part  of  the  Turkish  prison  authorities  ;  they  evi- 
dently have  had  no  cause  to  complain  of  any  harsh  measures  for 
the  enforcement  of  personal  cleanliness.  Their  foot-gear  consists 
of  pieces  of  rawhide,  fastened  on  with  odds  and  ends  of  string  ; 
and  pieces  of  coarse  sacking  tacked  on  to  what  were  once  clothes 
barely  suffice  to  cover  their  nakedness  ;  bare-headed — their  bushy 
hah-  has  not  for  months  felt  the  smoothing  inf_ueuce  of  a  comb,  and 
their  hands  and  faces  look  as  if  they  had  just  endured  a  seven- 
yeai-s'  famine  of  soap  and  water.  This  latter  feature  is  a  sure  sign 
that  they  are  not  Turks,  for  prisoners  are  most  likely  allowed  full 
liberty  to  keep  themselves  clean,  and  a  Turk  would  at  least  have 
come  out  into  the  world  with  a  clean  face. 

The  zaptiehs  squat  down  together  and  smoke  cigarettes,  and  allow 
their  charges  full  liberty  to  roam  wheresoever  thej'  will  while  on 
board,  and  the  two  prisoners,  to  all  appearances  j)erfectly  oblivious 
of  their  rags,  filth,  and  the  degradation  of  their  position,  mingle 
freely  with  the  passengers  ;  and,  as  they  move  about,  asking  and 
answering  questions,  I  look  in  vain  among  the  latter  for  any  sign 
of  the  spirit  of  social  Pharisaism  that  in  a  Western  crowd  would 
have  kept  them  at  a  distance.  Both  these  men  have  every  ap- 
pearance of  being  the  lowest  of  criminals — men  capable  of  any 
deed  in  the  calendar  within  theu-  mental  and  physical  capacities  ; 
they  may  even  be  members  of  the  very  gang  I  am  taking  this 
steamer  to  avoid  ;  but  nobody  seems  to  either  pity  or  condemn 
them  ;  everybody  acts  toward  them  precisely  as  they  act  toward 
each  other.  Perhaps  in  no  other  country  in  the  world  does  this 
social  and  moral  apathy  obtain  among  the  masses  to  such  a  de- 
gree as  in  Turkej'. 

While  we  lie  to  for  a  few  minutes  to  disembark  passengers  at 
the  vUlage  where  the  before-mentioned  wedding  festivities  are  in 
progress,  four  of  the  seven  imperturbable  Osmanlis  actually  arise 
from  the  one  position  they  have  occupied  unmoved  since  coming 
aboard,  and  follow  me  to  the  foredeck,  in  order  to  be  present  while 
I  explain  the  workings  and  mechanism  of  the  bicycle  to  some  Aiv 
menian  students  of  Eoberts  College,  who  can  speak  a  certain 
amount  of  English.  Having  listened  to  my  explanations  without 
understanding  a  word,  and,  without  condescending  to  question  the 
Armenians,  they  survey  the  machine  some  minutes  in  silence  and 


256  FEOM   SAN   FKANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

then  return  to  their  former  positions,  their  cigarettes,  and  their 
meditations,  paying  not  the  slightest  heed  to  several  caique  loads  of 
Greek  merry-makers  who  have  rowed  out  to  meet  the  new  arrivals, 
and  are  paddling  around  the  steamer,  fiUing  the  air  with  music. 
Finding  that  there  is  someone  aboard  that  can  converse  with  me, 
the  Greeks,  desirous  of  seeing  the  bicycle  in  action,  and  of  introduc- 
ing a  novelty  into  the  festivities  of  the  evening,  ask  me  to  come  ashore 
and  be  their  guest  until  the  arrival  of  the  next  Ismidt  boat — a 
matter  of  three  days.  Offer  declined  with  thanks,  but  not  without 
reluctance,  for  these  Greek  merry-makings  are  well  worth  seeing. 

The  Ismidt  packet,  Hke  everything  else  in  Turkey,  moves  at  a 
snail's  pace,  and  although  we  got  under  way  in  something  less  than 
an  hour  after  the  advertised  starting-time,  which,  for  Turkey,  is  quite 
commendable  promptness,  and  the  distance  is  but  fifty-five  miles, 
we  call  at  a  number  of  villages  en  route,  and  it  is  6  p.m.  when  we  tie 
up  at  the  Ismidt  wharf. 

"Five  piastres,  Effendi,  "  says  the  ticket-collector,  as,  after  wait- 
ing till  the  crowd  has  passed  the  gang- plank,  I  follow  with  the  bicy- 
cle and  hand  him  my  ticket. 

"  What  are  the  five  piastres  for  ?  "  I  ask.  For  answer,  he  points 
to  my  wheel. 

"Baggage,"  I  explain. 

"Baggage  yoke,  cargo, "  he  replies  ;  and  I  have  to  pay  it.  The 
fact  is,  that,  never  having  seen  a  bicycle  before,  he  don't  know 
whether  it  is  cargo  or  baggage  ;  but  whenever  a  Turkish  official  has 
no  precedent  to  follow,  he  takes  care  to  be  on  the  right  side  in  case 
there  is  any  money  to  be  collected  ;  otherwise  he  is  not  apt  to  be  so 
pai-ticular.  This  is,  however,  rather  a  matter  of  private  concern  than 
of  zealousness  in  the  performance  of  his  official  duties ;  the  possibil- 
ities of  peculation  are  ever  before  Lim. 

While  satisfying  the  claim  of  the  ticket-collector  a  deck-hand 
comes  forward  and,  pointing  to  the  bicycle,  blandly  asks  me  for 
backsheesh.  He  asks,  not  because  he  has  put  a  finger  to  the  machine 
or  been  asked  to  do  so,  but,  being  a  thoughtful,  far-sighted  youth,  he 
is  looking  out  for  the  future.  The  bicycle  is  something  he  never  saw 
on  his  boat  before  ;  but  the  idea  that  these  things  may  now  become 
common  among  the  passengers  wanders  through  his  mind,  and  that 
obtaining  backsheesh  on  this  particular  occasion  will  establish  aprece- 
dent  that  may  be  very  handy  hereafter  ;  so  he  makes  a  most  re- 
spectful salaam,,  calls  me  "  Bey  Effendi, "  and  smilingly  requests  two 


THE   START   THROUGH   ARIA.  257 

piastres  baclcsheesh.  After  him  comes  the  passport  officer,  wlio,  be- 
sides the  tcxl-et-i  for  myself,  demands  a  special  passport  for  the  ma- 
chine. He  likewise  is  in  a  puzzle  (it  don't  take  much,  by  the  by,  to 
puzzle  the  brains  of  a  Turkish  official),  because  the  bicycle  is  some- 
thing he  has  had  no  previous  dealings  with  ;  but  as  this  is  a  matter 
in  which  finances  play  no  legitimate  part — though  probably  his  de- 
mand for  a  passport  is  made  for  no  other  purpose  than  that  of  get- 
ting backsheesh — a  ^•igorous  protest,  backed  up  by  the  unanimous, 
and  most  certainly  vociferous,  support  of  a  crowd  of  wharf-loafers, 
and  my  fellow-i^assengers,  who,  having  disembarked,  are  waiting 
patiently  for  me  to  come  and  ride  down  the  street,  either  overrules 
or  overawes  the  officer  and  secures  my  relief. 

Impatient  at  consuming  a  whole  day  in  reaching  Ismidt,  I  have 
been  thinking  of  taking  to  the  road  immediately  upon  landing, 
and  continuing  till  dark,  taking  my  chances  of  reaching  some  suit- 
able stopping-place  for  the  night.  But  the  good  people  of  Ismidt 
raise  their  voices  in  protest  against  what  they  professedly  regai-d  as 
a  rash  and  dangerous  proposition.  As  I  evince  a  disposition  to  over- 
ride their  well-meant  interference  and  pull  out,  they  hurriedly  send 
for  a  Frenchman,  who  can  speak  sufficient  English  to  make  himself 
intelligible.  Speaking  for  himself,  and  acting  as  interpreter  in 
echoing  the  words  and  sentiments  of  the  others,  the  Frenchman 
straightway  warns  me  not  to  start  into  the  interior  so  late  in  the  day, 
and  run  the  risk  of  getting  benighted  in  the  brush  ;  for  "  Much  very 
bad  people,  very  bad  people !  are  between  Ismidt  and  Angora ; 
Circassians  plenty,  "  he  says,  adding  that  the  worst  characters  are 
near  Ismidt,  and  that  the  nearer  I  get  to  Angora  the  better  I  shall 
find  the  people.  As  by  this  time  the  sun  is  already  setting  behind 
the  hUls,  I  conclude  that  an  early  start  in  the  morning  will,  after  all, 
be  the  most  sensible  course. 

During  the  last  Eusso-Turldsh  war  thousands  of  Circassian  ref- 
ugees migrated  to  this  part  of  Asia  Minor.  Having  a  restless,  rov- 
ing disposition,  that  unfits  them  for  the  laborious  and  uneventful 
life  of  a  husbandman,  many  of  them  remain  even  to  the  present  day 
loafers  about  the  villages,  maintaining  themselves  nobody  seems  to 
know  how.  The  belief  appears  to  be  unanimous,  however,  that 
they  are  capable  of  any  deviltry  under  the  sun,  and  that,  while 
their  great  specialty  and  favorite  occupation  is  stealing  horses,  if 
this  becomes  slack  or  unprofitable,  or  even  for  the  sake  of  a  little 
pleasant  variety,  these  freebooters  from  the  Caucasus  have  no  hes- 
17 


258  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

ita'tiori  about  turning  highwaymen  whenever  a  tempting  occasion 
offers.  All  sorts  of  advice  about  the  best  way  to  avoid  being 
robbed  is  volunteered  by  the  people  of  Ismidt.  My  watch-chain, 
L.  A.  W.  badge,  and  everything  that  appears  of  any  value,  they  tell 
me,  must  be  kept  strictly  out  of  sight,  so  as  not  to  excite  the  latent 
cupidity  of  such  Circassians  as  I  meet  on  the  road  or  in  the  vil- 
lages. Some  advocate  the  plan  of  adorning  my  coat  with  Turkish 
official  buttons,  shoulder-straps,  and  trappings,  to  make  myself 
look  like  a  government  officer  ;  others  think  it  would  be  best  to 
rig  myself  up  as  a  full-blown  zaptieh,  with  whom,  of  course,  neither 
Circassian  nor  any  other  guilty  person  would  attempt  to  interfere. 

To  these  latter  suggestions  I  point  out  that,  while  they  are  very 
good,  especially  the  zaptieh  idea,  so  far  as  warding  off  Cii'cassians  is 
concerned,  iny  adoption  of  a  uniform  would  most  certainly  get  me 
into  hot  water  with  the  military  authorities  of  every  town  and  vil- 
lage, owing  to  my  ignorance  of  the  vernacular,  and  cause  me  no 
end  of  vexatious  delay.  To  this  the  quick-witted  Frenchman  re- 
plies by  at  once  offering;  to  go. with  me  to  the  resident  pasha,  ex- 
plain the  matter  to  him,  and  get  a  letter  permitting  me  to  wear 
the  uniform ;  which  offer  I  gently  but  firmly  decline,  being  secretly 
of  the  opinion  that  these  excessive  precautions  are  all  unnecessary. 
From  the  time  I  left  Hungary  I  have  been  warned  so  persistently 
of  danger  ahead,  and  have  so  far  met  nothing  really  dangerous,  that 
I  am  getting  sceptical  about  there  being  anything  like  the  risk 
people  seem  to  think.  Without  being  bhnd  to  the  fact  that  there 
is  a  certain  amount  of  danger  in  traveUing  alone  through  a  country 
where  it  is  the  universal  custom  either  to  travel  in  company  or  to 
take  a  guard,  I  feel  quite  confident  that  the  extreme  novelty  of  my 
conveyance  will  make  so  profound  an  impression  on  the  Asiatic  mind 
that,  even  did  they  know  that  my  buttons  are  gold  coins  of  the 
realm,  they  would  hesitate  seriously  to  molest  me.  From  past  ob- 
servations among  people  seeing  the  bicycle  ridden  for  the  first  time, 
I  believe  that  with  a  hundred  yards  of  smooth  road  it  is  quite  pos- 
sible for  a  cycler  to  ride  his  way  into  the  good  graces  of  the  worst 
gang  of  freebooters  in  Asia. 

Having  decided  to  remain  here  over-night,  I  seek  the  accommo- 
dation of  a  rudely  comfortable  hotel,  kept  by  an  Armenian,  where, 
at  the  supper-table,  I  am  first  made  acquainted  with  the  Asiatic 
dish  called  "pillau,"  that  is  destined  to  form  no  inconsiderable  part 
of  my  daily  bill  of  fare  for  several  weeks.    Pillau  is  a  dish  that  is  met 


THE   START   THROUGH   ASIA. 


259 


■with  in  one  disguise  or  another  all  over  Asia.  "With  a  foundation 
of  boiled  rice,  it  receives  a  variety  of  other  compounds,  the  nature 
of  which  will  appear  as  they  enter  into  my  daily  experiences.  In 
deference  to  the  limited  knowledge  of  each  other's  language  pos- 
sessed by  myself  and  the  proprietor,  I  am  invited  into  the  cook- 
house and  permitted  to  take  a  peep  at  the  contents  of  several  dif- 


My  Bill  of  Fare. 


ferent  pots  and  kettles  simmering  over  a  slow  fire  in  a  sort  of  brick 
trench,  to  point  out  to  the  waiter  such  dishes  as  I  think  I  shall 
like.  Failing  to  find  among  the  assortment  any  familiar  acquaint- 
ances, I  try  the  pillau,  and  find  it  quite  palatable,  preferring  it  to 
anything  else  the  house  affords. 

Our  fi-iend  the  Fi-enchman  is  quite  delighted  at  the  advent  of  a 


260  FROM   SAN   FKAKCISCO  TO  TEnEKAN. 

bicycle  in  Ismidt,  for  in  his  younger  days,  lie  tells  me  with  rnuch 
enthusiasm,  he  used  to  be  somewhat  partial  to  whirling  wheels  him- 
self ;■  and  when  he  first  came  here  from  Prance,  some  eighteen.years 
ago,  he  actually  brought  with  him  a  bone-shaker,  with  which,  for 
the  first  summer,  he  was  wont  to  surprise  the  natives.  This  relic 
of  by-gone  days  has  been  stowed  away  among  a  lot  of  old  traps  ever 
since,  all  but  forgotten  ;  but  the  appearance  of  a  mounted  wheelman 
recalls  it  to  memory,  and  this  evening,  in  honor  of  my  visit,  it  is 
brought  once  more  to  light,  its  past  history  explained  by  its  owner, 
and  its  merits  and  demerits  as  a  vehicle  in  comparison  with  my  bi- 
cycle duly  discussed.  The  bone-shaker  has  wheels  heavy  enough 
for  a  dog-cart ;  the  saddle  is  nearly  all  gnawed  away  by  mice,  and 
it  presents  altogether  so  antiquated  an  appearance  that  it  seems 
a  relic  rather  of  a  past  century  than  of  a  past  decade.  Its  owner 
assays  to  take  a  ride  on  it ;  but  the  best  he  can  do  is  to  wabble 
around  a  vacant  space  in  front  of  the  hotel,  the  awkward  motions 
of  the  old  bone-shaker  affording  intense  amusement  to  the  crowd. 
After  supper  this  chatty  and  entertaining  gentleman  brings  his 
wife,  a  rotund,  motherly-looking  person,  to  see  the  bicycle  ;  she  is 
a  Levantine  Greek,  and  besides  her  own  lingua  franca,  her  husband 
has  improved  her  education  to  the  extent  of  a  smattering  of  rather 
misleading  English.  Desiring  to  be  complimentary  in  return  for 
my  riding  back  and  forth  a  few  times  for  her  special  benefit,  the 
lady  comes  forward  as  I  dismount  and,  smiling  complacently  upon 
me,  remarks,  "How  very  grateful  you  ride,  monsieur!"  and  her 
husband  and  tutor,  desiring  also  to  say  something  complimentary, 
echoes,  "  Much  grateful — very." 

The  Greeks  seem  to  be  the  life  and  poetry  of  these  sea-coast 
places  on  the  Ismidt  gulf.  My  hotel  faces  the  water  ;  and  for 
hours  after  dark  a  half-dozen  caigwe-loads  of  serenaders  are  pad- 
dling about  in  front  of  the  town,  making  quite  an  entertaining  con- 
cert in  the  silence  of  the  night,  the  pleasing  effect  being  heightened 
by  the  well-known  softening  influence  of  the  water,  and  not  a  little 
enhanced  by  a  display  of  rockets  and  Eoman  candles. 

Earlier  in  the  evening,  while  taking  a  look  at  Ismidt  and  the 
surrounding  scenery,  in  company  with  a  few  sociable  natives,  who 
point  out  beauty-spots  in  the  surrounding  landscape  with  no  little 
enthusiasm,  I  am  impressed  with  the  extreme  loveliness  of  the  sit- 
uation. The  town  itself,  now  a  place  of  thirteen  thousand  inhabi- 
tants, is  the  Nicomedia  of  the  ancients.    It  is  built  in  the  form  of  a 


Greeks  Enjoying  Themselves. 


262  FROM   SAN  FEANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

crescent,  facing  the  sea  ;  the  houses,  many  of  them  painted  white, 
are  terraced  upon  the  slopes  of  the  green  hills,  whose  sides  and 
summits  are  clothed  with  verdure,  and  whose  bases  are  laved  by 
the  blue  waves  of  the  gulf,  which  here,  at  the  upper  extremity,  nar- 
rows to  about  a  mile  and  a  half  in  width  ;  white  villages  dot  the 
green  mountain-slopes  on  the  opposite  shore,  prominent  among 
them  being  the  Armenian  town  of  Bahgjadjik,  where  for  a  number 
of  years  has  been  established  an  American  missionary-school,  a 
branch,  I  think,  of  Eoberts  College.  Every  mile  of  visible  country, 
whether  gently  sloping  or  more  rugged  and  imposing,  is  green 
with  luxuriant  vegetation,  and  the  waters  of  the  gulf  are  of  that 
deep-blue  color  peculiar  to  mountain-locked  inlets  ;  the  bright 
green  hiUs,  the  dancing  blue  waters,  and  the  white  painted  villages 
combine  to  make  a  scene  so  lovely  in  the  chastened  light  of  early 
eventide  that,  after  the  Bosporus,  I  think  I  never  saw  a  place  more 
beautiful !  Besides  the  loveliness  of  the  situation,  the  little  moun- 
tain-sheltered inlet  makes  an  excellent  anchorage  for  shipping  ;  and 
during  the  late  war,  at  the  well-remembered  crisis  when  the  Russian 
armies  were  bearing  down  on  Constantinople  and  the  British  fleet 
received  the  famous  'order  to  pass  through  the  Dardanelles  with 
or  without  the  Sultan's  permission,  the  head-waters  of  the  Ismidt 
gulf  became,  for  several  months,  the  rendezvous  of  the  ships. 


CIIAPTEE,  XI. 

ON  THROUGH   ASIA. 

Early  dawn  on  Tuesday  morning  finds  me  already  astir  and 
groping  about  tlie  hotel  in  search  of  some  of  the  slumbering  em- 
ployees to  let  me  out.  Pocketing  a  cold  lunch  in  lieu  of  eating 
breakfast,  I  mount  and  wheel  down  the  long  street  leading  out  of 
the  eastern  end  of  town.  Ou  the  way  out  I  pass  a  party  of  caravan- 
teamsters  who  have  just  arrived  with  a  cargo  of  mohair  from  An- 
gora ;  theu-  pack-mvdes  are  fairly  festooned  with  strings  of  bells  of 
all  sizes,  from  a  tiny  sleigh-bell  to  a  solemn-voiced  sheet-iron  affair 
the  size  of  a  two-gaUon  jar.  These  bells  make  an  awful  din  ;  the 
men  are  unpacking  the  weary  animals,  shouting  both  at  the  mules 
and  at  each  other,  as  if  their  chief  object  were  to  create  as  much 
noise  as  possible  ;  but  as  I  wheel  noiselessly  past,  they  cease  their 
unpacking  and  their  shouting,  as  if  by  common  consent,  and  greet 
me  with  that  silent  stare  of  wonder  that  men  might  be  supposed  to 
accord  to  an  apparition  from  another  world.  For  some  few  miles 
a  rough  macadam  road  affords  a  somewhat  choppy  but  neverthe- 
less ridable  surface,  and  further  inland  it  develops  into  a  fairly 
good  roadway,  where  a  dismount  is  unnecessary  for  several  miles. 

The  road  leads  along  a  depression  between  a  continuation  of  the 
mountain- chains  that  inclose  the  Ismidt  gulf,  which  now  run  parallel 
with  my  road  on  either  hand  at  the  distance  of  a  couple  of  miles, 
some  of  the  spurs  on  the  south  range  rising  to  quite  an  imposing- 
height.  For  four  miles  out  of  Ismidt  the  country  is  flat  and 
swampy ;  beyond  that  it  changes  to  higher  ground ;  and  the 
swampy  flat,  the  higher  ground,  and  the  mountain-slopes  are  all 
covered  with  timber  and  a  dense  growth  of  underbrush,  in  which 
wild-fiw  shrubs  and  the  homely  but  beautiful  ferns  of  the  English 
commons,  the  Missouri  Valley  woods,  and  the  California  foot-hills, 
mingle  their  respective  chai-ms,  and  hob-nob  with  scrub-oak,  chest- 
nut, walnut,  and  scores  of  others.  The  whole  face  of  the  country 
is  covered  with  this  dense  thicket,  and  the  first  little  hamlet  I  pass 
on  the  road  is  neai-ly  hidden  in  it,  the  roofs  of  the  houses  being 


264 


FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


barely  visible  above  the  gi-een  sea  of  vegetation.  Orchards  and 
little  patches  of  ground  tbat  have  been  cleared  and  cultivated  are 
hidden  entirely,  and  one  cannot  helj)  thinking  that  if  this  intermi- 
nable forest  of  brushwood 
were  once  to  get  fairly  ablaze, 
nothing  could  prevent  it  from 
destroying  everything  these 
villagers  possess. 

A  foretaste  of  what  awaits 
me  farther  in  the  interior  is 
obtained  even  within 
the  first  few  hours  of 
the  morning,  when  a 
couple  of  horsemen 
canter  at  my  heels  for 
miles  ;  they  seem  de- 
lighted beyond  meas- 
ure, and  their  solici- 
tude for  my  health 
and  general  welfare  is 
quite  affecting.  When 
I  halt  to  pluck  some 
blackberries,  they  sol- 
emnlj^  pat  their  stom- 
achs and  shake  their 
heads  in  chorus,  to 
make  me  understand 
that  blackberries  are 
not  good  things  to  eat ; 
and  by  gestures  they 
notify  me  of  bad  places 
in  the  road  which  are 
yet  out  of  sight  ahead. 
Rude  mehanas,  now 
called  khans,  occupy 
little  clearings  by  the 
roadside,  at  intervals  of  a  few  miles  ;  and  among  the  habitues  con- 
gregated there  I  notice  several  of  the  Circassian  refugees  on  whose 
account  friends  at  Ismidt  and  Constantinople  have  shown  them- 
selves so  concerned  for  my  safety. 


A  Circassian   Refugee. 


ON  TiniouGii  ASIA.  265 

They  are  dressed  in  tlie  loug  Cossact  coats  of  dai"k  cloth  peculiar 
to  the  inhabitants  of  tlie  Ciuicasaa  ;  two  rows  of  bone  or  metal 
cartridge-cases  adorn  their  breast,  being  fitted  into  flutes  or 
pockets  made  for  thena  ;  they  wear  either  top  boots  or  top  boot- 
legs, and  the  counterpart  of  my  own  moccasins  ;  and  their  head- 
dress is  a  tall  black  lamb's- wool  turban,  similar  to  the  national  head- 
gear of  the  Persians.  They  are  by  far  the  best-dressed  and  most 
respectable-looking  men  one  sees  among  the  groups  ;  for  Nvhile  the 
majority  of  the  natives  are  both  ragged  and  barefooted,  I  don't  re- 
member ever  seeing  Circassians  either.  To  all  outward  appear- 
ances they  are  the  most  trustworthy  men  of  them  all ;  but  there  is 
really  more  deviltry  concealed  beneath  the  smiling  exterior  of  one 
of  these  homeless  mountaineers  from  Gircassia  than  in  a  whole 
village  of  the  less  likely-looking  natives  here,  whose  general  cut- 
throat appearance — an  effect  produced,  more  than  anything  else, 
by  the  imiversal  custom  of  wearing  all  the  old  swords,  knives,  and 
pistols  they  can  get  hold  of — really  counts  for  nothing.  In  pict- 
uresqueness  of  attire  some  of  these  khan  loafers  leave  nothing  to 
be  desired  ;  and  although  I  am  this  morning  wearing  Igali's  ceru- 
lean scarf  as  a  sash,  the  tri-colored  pencil  string  of  Servia  ai-ouud 
my  neck,  and  a  handsome  pair  of  Circassian  moccasins,  I  am  abso- 
lutely nowhere  by  the  side  of  many  a  native  here  whose  entu-e 
wardrobe  wouldn't  fetch  half  a  medjedie  in  a  Galata  auction-room. 

The  great  light  of  Central  Asian  hospitality  casts  a  ghmmer 
even  up  into  this  out-of-the-way  northwestern  corner  of  the  conti- 
nent, though  it  seems  to  partake  more  of  the  Nevada  interpretation 
of  the  word  than  farther  in  the  interior.  Thrice  during  the  fore- 
noon I  am  accosted  witli  the  invitation  "  mastic  ?  cogniac  ?  coffee  ?  " 
by  road-side  khan-jees  or  their  customers  who  wish  me  to  stop 
and  let  them  satisfy  their  consuming  curiosity  at  my  novel  bagar 
(horse),  as  many  of  them  jokingly  allude  to  it.  Beyond  these  three 
beverages  and  the  inevitable  nargileh,  these  wayside  khans  provide 
nothing  ;  vishner  syrup  (a  pleasant  extract  of  the  vishner  cherry  ; 
a  spoonful  in  a  tumbler  of  water  makes  a  most  agreeable  and  re- 
freshing sherbet),  which  is  my  favorite  bevei-age  on  the  road,  being 
an  inoffensive,  non-intoxicating  drink,  is  not  in  sufScient  demand 
amon"  the  patrons  of  the  khans  to  justify  keeping  it  in  stock. 

An  ancient  bowlder  causeway  traverses  tlie  route  I  am  following, 
but  the  blocks  of  stone  composing  it  have  long  since  become  mis- 
placed and  scattered  about  in  confusion,  making  it  impassable  for 


266  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

wheeled  veldcles ;  and  the  natural  dirt-road  alongside  it  is  covered 
■with  several  inches  of  dust  which  is  continually  being  churned  up 
by  mule-caravans  bringing  mohair  from  Angora  and  miscellaneous 
merchandise  from  Ismidt.  Camel-caravans  make  smooth  tracks, 
but  they  seldom  venture  to  Ismidt  at  this  time  of  the  year,  I  am 
told,  on  account  of  the  bellicose  character  of  the  mosquitoes  that 
inhabit  this  particular  region  ;  their  special  mode  of  attack  being 
to  invade  the  camels'  sensitive  nostrils,  which  drives  these  patient 
beasts  of  burden  to  the  last  verge  of  distraction,  sometimes  even 
worrying  them  to  death.  Stopping  for  dinner  at  the  village  of  Sa- 
banja,  the  scenes  familiar  in  connection  with  a  halt  for  refresh- 
ments in  the  Balkan  Peninsula  are  enacted  ;  though  for  bland  and 
childlike  assurance  there  is  no  comparison  between  the  European 
Turk  and  his  brother  in  Asia  Minor.  More  than  one  villager  ap- 
proaches me  diu'ing  the  few  minutes  I  am  engaged  in  eating  din- 
ner, and  blandly  asks  me  to  quit  eating  and  let  him  see  me  ride  ; 
one  of  them,  with  a  view  of  putting  it  out  of  my  power  to  refuse, 
supplements  his  request  vrith  a  few  green  apples  which  no  Eu- 
ropean could  eat  without  bringing  on  an  attack  of  cholera  morbus, 
but  which  Asiatics  consume  with  impunity.  After  dinner  I  request 
the  proprietor  to  save  me  from  the  madding  crowd  long  enough  to 
round  up  a  few  notes,  which  he  attempts  to  do  by  locking  me  in 
a  room  over  the  stable.  In  less  than  ten  minutes  the  door  is  un- 
locked, and  in  walks  the  headman  of  the  village,,  making  a  most 
solemn  and  profound  salaam  as  he  enters.  He  has  searched  out  a 
man  who  fought  with  the  English  in  the  Crimea,  according  to  his 
— the  man's — own  explanation,  and  who  knows  a  few  words  of 
Frank  language  and  has  brought  him  along  to  interpret.  Without 
the  slightest  hesitation  he  asks  me  to  leave  off  writing  and  come 
down  and  ride,  in  order  that  he  may  see  the  performance,  and — 
he  continues,  artfuUy— that  he  may  judge  of  the  comparative  merits 
of  a  horse  and  a  bicycle. 

This  peculiar  trait  of  the  Asiatic  character  is  further  illustrated 
during  the  afternoon  in  the  case  of  a  caravan  leader  whom  I  meet 
on  an  unridable  stretch  of  road.  "  Bin !  bin  !  "  says  this  person, 
as  soon  as  his  mental  faculties  grasp  the  idea  that  the  bicycle  is 
something  to  ride  on.  "  Mimkin,  deyil  ;  fenna  yole  ;  duz  yole  lazim  " 
(impossible  ;  bad  road  ;  good  road  necessary),  I  reply,  airing  my 
hmited  stock  of  Turkish.  Nothing  davmted  by  this  answer,  the 
man  blandly  requests  me  to  turn  about  and  follow  his  cai-avan  until 


Sabanjans  Worrying  Me-4o  Ride. 


ox   TIIEOtTGII   ASIA.  269 

ridable  road  is  reached — a  good  mile  — in  order  that  he  may  be 
enlighteued.  It  is,  perhaps,  superfluous  to  add  that,  so  far  as  I 
know,  this  particular  individual's  ideas  of  'cycling  are  as  hazy  and 
undefined  to-day  as  they  ever  were. 

The  principal  occupation  of  the  Sabanjans  seems  to  be  killing 
time ;  or  perhaps  waiting  for  something  to  tiu-n  up.  Apple  and 
pear-orchards  are  scattered  about  among  the  brush,  looking  utterly 
neglected  ;  they  are  old  ti'ees  mostly,  and  were  planted  by  the  more 
enterprising  ancestors  of  the  present  ownere,  who  would  appear  to 
be  altogether  unworthy  of  their  sires,  since  they  evidently  do  noth- 
ing in  the  way  of  trimming  and  pruning,  but  merely  accept  such 
blessings  as  unaided  nature  vouchsafes  to  bestow  upon  them. 
Moss-grown  gravestones  are  visible  here  and  there  amid  the  thick- 
ets ;  the  graveyards  are  neither  protected  by  fence  nor  shorn  of 
brush ;  in  short,  this  aggressive  undergrowth  appears  to  be  alto- 
gether too  much  for  the  energies  of  the  Sabanjans  ;  it  seems  to  be 
encroaching  upon  them  from  every  direction,  ruthlessly  pursuing 
them  even  to  their  very  door-sills  ;  like  Banquo's  ghost,  it  will  not 
down,  and  the  people  have  evidently  retired  discouraged  from  the 
contest.  Higher  up  on  the  mountain-slopes  the  underbrush  gives 
place  to  heavier  timber,  and  small  clearings  abound,  around  which 
the  unsubdued  forest  stands  Uke  a  soUd  wall  of  green,  the  scene 
reminding  one  quite  forcibly  of  backwoods  clearings  in  Ohio  ;  and 
were  it  not  for  the  ancient  appearance  of  the  Sabanja  minarets,  the 
old  bowlder  causeway,  and  other  evidences  of  declining  years,  one 
might  easily  imagine  himself  in  a  new  country  instead  of  the  cradle 
of  our  race. 

At  Sabanja  the  wagon-road  terminates,  and  my  way  becomes 
execrable  beyond  anything  I  ever  encountered  ;  it  leads  over  a  low 
mountain-pass,  following  the  ti-ack  of  the  ancient  roadway,  that  on 
the  acclivity  of  the  mountain  has  been  torn  up  and  washed  about, 
and  the  stone  blocks  scattered  here  and  piled  up  there  by  the  tor- 
rents of  centuiies,  until  it  would  seem  to  have  been  the  sport  and 
plaything  of  a  hundred  Kansas  cyclones.  Eouud  about  and  among 
this  disorganized  mass,  caravans  have  picked  their  way  over  the 
pass  from  the  first  dawn  of  commercial  intercourse  ;  foUovring  the 
same  trail  year  after  year,  the  stepping-places  have  come  to  resem- 
ble the  steps  of  a  iiide  stairway.  Fi'om  the  summit  of  the  pass  is 
obtained  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  verdure-clad  valley  ;  here  and 
there  white  minarets  are  seen  protruding  above  the  verdant  area. 


270  FEOM   SAN   PBANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

like  lighthouses  from  a  green  sea ;  villages  dot  the  lower  slopes  of 
the  mountaias,  while  a  lake,  covering  half  the  width  of  the  valley 
for  a  dozen  miles,  glimmers  in  the  mid-day  sun,  making  altogether 
a  scene  that  in  some  countries  would  long  since  have  been  immor- 
talized on  canvas  or  in  verse.  The  descent  is  even  rougher,  if 
anything,  than  the  western  side,  but  it  leads  down  into  a  tiny  val- 
ley that,  if  situated  near  a  large  city,  would  resound  with  the  voices 
of  merry-makers  the  whole  summer  long.  The  undergrowth  of 
this  morning's  observations  has  entirely  disappeared  ;  wide-spread- 
ing chestnut  and  grand  old  sycamore  trees  shade  a  circumscribed 
area  of  velvety  greensward  and  isolated  rocks  ;  a  tiny  stream,  a 
tributary  of  the  Sackaria,  meanders  along  its  rocky  bed,  and  forest- 
clad  mountains  tower  almost  perpendicularly  around  the  charming 
little  vale  save  one  narrow  outlet  to  the  east.  There  isnot  a  human 
being  in  sight,  nor  a  sound  to  break  the  silence  save  the  murmuring 
of  the  brook,  as  I  fairly  clamber  down  into  this  little  sylvan  retreat ; 
but  a  wreath  of  smoke  curling  above  the  trees  some  distance  from 
the  road  betrays  the  presence  of  man.  The  whole  scene  vividly 
calls  to  mind  one  of  those  marvellous  mountain-retreats  in  which 
writers  of  banditti  stories  are  wont  to  pitch  their  heroes'  silken 
tent — no  more  appropriate  rendezvous  for  a  band  of  story-book 
free-booters  could  well  be  imagined. 

Short  stretches  of  ridable  mule-paths  are  found  along  this  val- 
ley as  I  follow  the  course  of  the  little  stream  eastward  ;  they  are  by 
no  means  continuous,  by  reason  of  the  eccentric  wanderings  of  the 
rivulet ;  but  after  climbing  the  rough  pass  one  feels  thankful  for 
even  smaU  favors,  and  I  plod  along,  now  riding,  now  walking,  oc- 
casionally passing  little  clusters  of  mud  huts  and  '  meeting  with 
pack  animals  en  route  to  Ismidt  with  the  season's  shearing  of  mohair. 
"Alia  Franga!"  is  the  greeting  I  am  now  favored  with,  instead  of 
the  "Ah,  V Anglais  !  "  of  Europe,  as  I  pass  people  on  the  road; 
and  the  bicycle  is  referred  to  as  an  araba,  the  name  the  natives 
give  their  rude  carts,  and  a  name  which  they  seem  to  think  is  quite 
appropriate  for  anything  with  wheels. 

Following  the  course  of  the  Uttle  tributary  for  several  miles, 
crossing  and  recrossing  it  a  number  of  times,  I  finally  emerge  with 
it  into  the  valley  of  Sackaria.  There  are  some  very  good  roads 
down  this  valley,  which  is  narrow,  and  in  places  contracts  to  but 
little  more  than  a  mere  neck  between  the  mountains.  At  one  of  the 
narrowest  points  the  mountains  present  an  almost  perpendicular 


ON   THROUGH   ASIA. 


271 


face  of  rock,  and  here  are  the  remnants  of  an  ancient  stone  wall 
reputed  to  have  been  built  by  the  Greeks,  somewhere  about  the 


Down  the  Sakaria. 


twelfth  century,  in  anticipation  of  an  invasion  of  the  Turks  from 
the  south.     The  wall  stretches  across  the  valley  from  mountain  to 


272  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

river,  and  is  quite  a  massive  affair ;  an  archway  has  been  cut  through 
it  for  the  passage  of  caravans.  Soon  after  passing  through  this  open- 
ing I  am  favored  with  the  company  of  a  horseman,  who  follows  me 
for  three  or  four  miles,  and  thoughtfully  takes  upon  himself  the 
office  of  telling  me  when  to  bill  and  when  not  to  bin,  according 
as  he  thinks  the  road  suitable  for  'cycling  or  not,  until  he  discovers 
that  his  gratuitous  advice  produces  no  visible  effect  on  my  move- 
ments, when  he  desists  and  follows  along  behind  in  silence  like  a 
sensible  fellow.  About  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  cross  the 
Sackaria  on  an  old  stone  bridge,  and  half  an  hour  later  roll  into 
Geiveh,  a  large  village  situated  in  the  middle  of  a  triangular  valley 
about  seven  miles  in  width.  My  cyclometer  shows  a  trifle  over 
forty  miles  from  Ismidt ;  it  has  been  a  variable  forty  mUes  ;  I  shall 
never  forget  the  pass  over  the  old  causeway,  the  view  of  the  Sabanja 
Valley  from  the  summit,  nor  the  lovely  Httle  retreat  on  the  eastern 
side. 

Trundling  through  the  town  in  quest  of  a  khan,  I  am  soon  sur- 
rounded by  a  clamorous  crowd  ;  and  passing  the  house  or  office  of 
the  mudir  or  headman  of  the  place,  that  person  sallies  forth,  and, 
after  ascertaining  the  cause  of  the  commotion,  begs  me  to  favor  the 
crowd  and  himself  by  riding  round  a  vacant  piece  of  ground  hard 
by.  After  this  performance,  a  respectable-looking  man  beckons  me 
to  follow  him,  and  he  takes  me — not  to  his  own  house  to  be  his 
guest,  for  Geiveh  is  too  near  Europe  for  this  sort  of  thing — to  a 
khan  kept  by  a  Greek  with  a  mote  in  one  eye,  where  a  "  shake 
down ''  on  the  floor,  a  cup  of  coffee  or  a  glass  of  vishner  is  obtain- 
able, and  opposite  which  another  Greek  keeps  an  eating-house. 
There  is  no  separate  kitchen  in  this  latter  establishment  as  in  the 
one  at  Ismidt  •  one  room  answers  for  cooking,  eating,  nargileh- 
smoking,  coffee-sipping,  and  gossiping ;  and  while  I  am  eating,  a 
curious  crowd  watches  my  every  movement  with  intense  interest. 
Here,  as  at  Ismidt,  I  am  requested  to  examine  for  myself  the  con- 
tents of  several  pots.  Most  of  them  contain  a  greasy  mixture  of 
chopped  meat  and  tomatoes  stewed  together,  with  no  visible  dif- 
ference between  them  save  in  the  sizes  of  the  pieces  of  meat ;  but 
one  vessel  contains  pillau,  and  of  this  and  some  inferior  red  wine  I 
make  my  supper.  Prices  for  eatables  are  ridiculously  low ;  I  hand 
him  a  cherik  for  the  supper  ;  he  beckons  me  out  of  the  back  door 
and  there,  with  none  save  ourselves  to  witness  the  transaction,  he 
counts  me  out  two  piastres  change,  which  left  him  ten  cents  for  the 


ON   THROUGH    ASIA.  27B 

supper.  He  has  probably  been  guilty  of  the  awful  crime  of  charg- 
ing me  about  three  farthings  over  the  regular  price,  and  was  afraid 
to  ventiu-e  upon  so  iniquitous  a  proceeding  in  the  public  room  lest 
the  Turks  should  perchance  detect  him  in  cheating  an  Englishman, 
and  revenge  the  wrong  by  making  him  feed  me  for  nothing. 

It  rains  quite  heavily  during  the  night,  and  while  waiting  for  it 
to  dry  up  a  little  in  the  morning,  the  Geivehites  voluntarily  tender 
me  much  advice  concerning  the  state  of  the  road  ahead,  being  gov- 
erned in  their  ideas  according  to  their  knowledge  of  a  'cycler's 
mountain-climbing  ability.  By  a  round  dozen  of  men,  who  pene- 
trate into  my  room  in  a  body  ere  I  am  fairly  dressed,  and  who, 
after  solemnly  salaaming  in  chorus,  commence  delivering  them- 
selves of  expressive  pantomime  and  gesticulations,  I  am  led  to 
understand  that  the  road  from  Geiveli  to  Tereklu  is  something 
feai'ful  for  a  bicycle.  One  fat  old  Turk,  undertaking  to  explain  it 
more  fully,  after  the  others  have  exhausted  their  knowledge  of  sign 
language,  swells  himself  up  like  an  inflated  toad  and  imitates  the 
labored  respiration  of  a  broken-winded  horse  in  order  to  duly  im- 
press upon  my  mind  the  phj-sical  exertion  I  may  expect  to  put  forth 
in  "riding" — he  also  paws  the  air  with  his  right  foot — over  the 
mountain-range  that  looms  up  like  an  impassable  bai-rier  three 
miles  east  of  the  town.  The  Turks  as  a  nation  have  the  reputation 
of  being  solemn-visaged,  imperturbable  people,  yet  one  occasionally 
finds  them  quite  animated  and  "Prenchj'"  in  their  behavior — the 
bicycle  may,  however,  be  in  a  measure  responsible  for  this. 

The  soil  around  Geiveh  is  a  red  clay  that,  after  a  shower,  clings 
to  the  rubber  tires  of  the  bicycle  as  though  the  mere  resemblance 
in  color  tended  to  establish  a  bond  of  sympathy  between  them  that 
nothing  could  overcome.  I  pass  the  time  until  ten  o'clock  in  avoid- 
ing the  crowd  that  has  swarmed  the  khan  since  early  dawn,  and  has 
been  awaiting  with  Asiatic  patience  ever  since.  At  ten  o'clock  I 
win  the  gratitude  of  a  thousand  hearts  by  deciding  to  start,  the 
happy  crowd  deserting  half-smoked  nargilehs,  rapidly  swallowing 
tiny  cups  of  scalding-hot  coffee  in  their  anxiety  lest  I  vault  into  the 
saddle  at  the  door  of  the  khan  and  whisk  out  of  their  sight  in  a 
moment — an  idea  that  is  flitting  through  the  imaginative  mind  of 
more  than  one  Turk  present,  as  a  natural  result  of  the  stories  his 
wife  has  heard  from  his  neighbor's  wife,  whose  sistei',  from  the  roof 
of  her  house,  saw  me  ride  around  the  vacant  space  at  the  mudir's 
request  yesterday.  The  Oriental  imagination  of  scores  of  wonder- 
18 


274  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

ing  villagers  has  been  drawn  upon  to  magnify  that  modest  perform- 
ance into  a  feat  that  fills  the  hundreds  who  didn't  see  it  with  the 
liveliest  anticipations,  and  a  murmuring  undercurrent  of  excitement 
thriUs  the  crowd  as  the  word  goes  round  that  I  am  about  to  start. 
A  minority  of  the  people  learned  yesterday  that  I  wouldn't  ride 
across  the  stones,  water-ditches,  and  mud-holes  of  the  village 
streets,  and  these  at  once  lead  the  way,  taking  upon  themselves  the 
office  of  conducting  me  to  the  road  leading  to  the  Kara  Su  Pass  ; 
while  the  less  enHghtened  majority  press  on  behind,  the  more  rest- 
less spirits  worrying  me  to  ride,  those  of  more  patient  disposition 
maintaining  a  respectful  silence,  but  wondering  why  on  earth  I  am 
walking. 

The  road  they  conduct  me  to  is  another  of  those  ancient  stone 
causewaj's  that  traverse  this  section  of  Asia  Minor  in  all  direc- 
tions. This  one  and  several  others  I  happen  to  come  across  are 
but  about  three  feet  wide,  and  were  evidently  built  for  military 
pui-poses  by  the  more  enterprising  people  who  occupied  Constanti- 
nople and  the  adjacent  country  before  the  Turks — narrow  stone 
pathways  built  to  facilitate  the  marching  of  armies  during  the  rainy 
season  when  the  natural  gi'ound  hereabout  is  all  but  impassable. 
These  stone  roads  were  probably  built  during  the  Byzantine  occu- 
pation. Fairly  smooth  mule-paths  lead  along-side  this  relic  of  de- 
parted greatness  and  energy,  and  the  warm  sun  having  dried  the 
surface,  I  mount  and  speed  away  from  the  wondering  crowd,  and 
in  four  miles  reach  the  foot  of  the  Kara  Su  Pass.  From  this  spot  I 
can  observe  a  small  caravan,  slowly  picking  its  way  down  the  moun- 
tain ;  the  animals  are  sometimes  entirely  hidden  behind  rocks,  as 
they  follow  the  windings  and  twistings  of  the  trail  down  the  rug- 
ged slope  which  the  old  Turk  this  morning  thought  would  make  me 
puff  to  climb. 

A  little  stream  called  the  Kara  Su,  or  black  water,  comes  dan- 
cing out  of  a  rocky  avenue  near  by  ;  and  while  I  am  removing  my 
foot-gear  to  ford  it,  I  am  joined  by  several  herdsmen  who  are  tend- 
ing flocks  of  the  celebrated  Angora  goats  and  the  peculiar  fat-tailed 
sheep  of  the  East,  which  are  grazing  ou  neighboring  knoUs.  These 
gentle  shepherds  are  not  overburdened  with  clothing,  their  naked- 
ness being  but  barely  covered ;  but  they  wear  long  sword-knives 
and  old  flint-lock,  bell  mouthed  horse-pistols — weapons  that  give 
them  a  ferocious  appearance  that  seems  strangely  at  variance  with 
their  peaceful  occupation.     They  gather  about  me  with  a  familiarity 


ON   THROUGH   ASIA.  2/;) 

that  impresses  me  anything  but  favorably  toward  them ;  they  crit- 
ically examine  my  clothing  from  helmet  to  moccasins,  eying  my 
various  belongings  wistfully,  tapping  my  leather  case,  and  pinching 
the  rear  package  to  try  and  ascertain  the  nature  of  its  contents.  I 
gather  from  their  remarks  about  "para  "  (a  term  used  in  a  general 
sense  for  money,  as  w^ll  as  for  the  small  coin  of  that  name),  as 
they  regard  tire  leather  case  with  a  covetous  eye,  that  they  are  in- 
clined to  the  opinion  that  it  contains  money  ;  and  there  is  no  telling 
the  fabulous  wealth  their  untutored  minds  are  associating  with  the 
supposed  treasure-chest  of  a  Frank  who  rides  a  silver  "  araha." 

Evidently  these  fellows  have  never  heard  of  the  tenth  command- 
ment ;  or,  having  heard  of  it,  they  have  failed  to  read,  mark,  learn, 
and  inwardly  digest  it  for  the  improvement  of  their  moral  natures  ; 
for  covetousness  beams  forth  from  every  lineament  of  their  faces 
and  every  motion  of  their  hands.  Seeing  this,  I  endeavor  to  win 
them  from  the  moral  shackles  of  their  own  gloomy  minds  by  point- 
ing out  the  beautiful  mechanism  of  my  machine  ;  I  twirl  the  pedals 
and  show  them  how  perfect  are  the  bearings  of  the  rear  wheel  ;  I 
pinch  the  rubber  tire  to  show  them  that  it  is  neither  iron  nor  wood, 
and  call  their  attention  to  the  brake,  fully  expecting  in  this  iisuaEy 
winsome  manner  to  fill  them  with  gratitude  and  admiration,  and 
make  them  forget  all  about  my  baggage  and  clothes.  But  these 
fellows  seem  to  differ  from  those  of  their  countrymen  I  left  but 
a  short  time  ago  ;  my  other  effects  interest  them  far  more  than 
the  wheel  does,  and  one  of  them,  after  wistfully-  eying  my  mocca- 
sins, a  handsomer  pau',  perhaps,  than  he  ever  saw  before,  points 
ruefully  down  to  his  own  rude  sandals  of  thong-bound  raw-hide, 
and  casts  a  look  upon  his  comrades  that  says  far  more  elequently 
than  words,  "  "What  a  shame  that  such  lovely  moccasins  should 
grace  the  feet  of  a  Frank  and  an  unbeliever — ashes  on  his  head — 
while  a  true  follower  of  the  Prophet  like  myself  should  go  about 
almost  barefooted  ! "  There  is  no  mistaking  the  natural  bent  of 
these  gentle  shepherds'  inclinations,  and  as,  in  the  absence  of  a 
rusty  sword  and  a  seventeenth-century  horse  pistol,  they  doubtless 
think  I  am  unarmed,  my  impression  from  their  bearing  is  that  they 
would,  at  least,  have  tried  to  frighten  me  into  making  them  a  pres- 
ent of  my  moccasins  and  perhaps  a  few  other  things.  In  the  in- 
nocence of  their  unsophisticated  natures,  they  wist  not  of  the  com- 
pact little  weapon  reposing  beneath  my  coat  that  is  as  superior  to 
their  entire  armament  as  is  a  modern  gunboat  to  the  wooden  walls 


276  FIJOM   SAN^   FRAWCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

of  the  last  centuiy.  Whatever  their  intentions  may  be,  however, 
they  are  doomed  never  to  be  carried  out,  for  their  attention  is  now 
attracted  by  the  caravan,  whose  approach  is  heralded  by  the  jingle 
of  a  thousand  bells. 

The  next  two  hours  find  me  engaged  in  the  laborious  task  of 
climbing  a  mere  bridle-path  up  the  rugged  mountain  slope,  along 
which  no  wheeled  vehicle  has  certainly  ever  been  before.  There  is 
in  some  places  barely  room  for  pack  animals  to  pass  between  the 
masses  of  rocks,  and  at  others,  but  a  narrow  ledge  between  a  per- 
pendicular rock  and  a  sheer  precipice.  The  steepest  portions  are 
worn  into  rude  stone  stairways  by  the  feet  of  pack  animals  that 
toiled  over  this  pass  just  as  they  toiled  before  America  was  dis- 
covered and  have  been  toiling  ever  since  ;  and  for  hundreds  of  yards 
■  at  a  stretch  I  am  compelled  to  push  the  bicycle  ahead,  rear  wheel 
aloft,  in  the  well-known  manner  of  going  up-stairs.  While  climb- 
ing up  a  rather  awkward  place,  I  meet  a  lone  Arab  youth,  leading 
his  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  come  near  causing  a  serious  accident. 
It  was  at  the  turning  of  a  sharp  corner  that  I  met  this  swarthy- 
faced  youth  face  to  face,  and  the  sudden  appearance  of  what  both 
he  and  the  horse  thought  was  a  being  from  a  far  more  distant 
sphere  than  the  western  half  of  our  own  so  frightened  them  both 
that  I  eTqjected  every  minute  to  see  them  go  toppling  over  the 
precipice.  Reassuring  the  boy  by  speaking  a  word  or  two  of  Turk- 
ish, and  seeing  the  impossibility  of  either  passing  him  or  of  his 
horse  being  able  to  turn  around,  I  turn  about  and  retreat  a  short 
distance,  to  where  there  is  more  room.  He  is  not  quite  assured  of 
my  terrestrial  character  even  yet ;  he  is  too  frightened  to  speak, 
and  he  trembles  visibly  as  he  goes  past,  greeting  me  with  a  leer  of 
mingled  fear  and  suspicion  ;  at  the  same  time  making  a  brave  but 
very  sickly  effort  to  ward  off  any  evil  designs  I  might  be  meditating 
against  him  Ipy  a  pitiful  propitiatory  smile  which  will  haunt  my 
memory  for  weeks  ;  though  I  hope  by  plenty  of  exercise  to  escape 
an  attack  of  the  nightmare. , 

This  is  the  worst  mountain  climbing  I  have  done  with  a  bicycle  ; 
all  the  way  across  the  Rockies  there  is  nothing  approaching  this 
pass  for  steepness  ;  although  on  foot  or  horseback  it  would  of 
course  not  appear  so  formidable.  When  part  way  up,  a  bank  of 
low  hanging  clouds  come  rolling  down  to  meet  me,  envelopincr 
the  mountain  in  fog,  and'bringing  on  a  disagreeable  drizzle  which 
scarcely  improves  the  situation. 


ON  THROUGH   ASIA.  277 

Five  miles  from  the  bottom  of  the  pass  and  three  hours  from 
Geiveh  I  reach  a  small  postaya-khan,  occupied  by  one  zaptieh  and 
the  station-keeper,  where  I  halt  for  a  half  hour  and  get  the  zaptieh 
to  brew  me  a  cup  of  coffee,  feeling  the  need  of  a  little  refreshment 
after  the  stiff  tugging  of  the  last  two  hours.  Coffee  is  the  only  re- 
freshment obtainable  here,  and,  though  the  weather  looks  anything 
but  propitious,  I  push  ahead  toward  a  regular  roadside  khan,  which  I 
am  told  I  shall  come  to  at  the  distance  of  another  hour — the  natives 
of  Asia  Minor  know  nothing  of  miles  or  kilometres,  but  reckon  the 
distance  from  point  to  point  by  the  number  of  hours  it  usually 
takes  to  go  on  horseback.  Reaching  this  khan  at  three  o'clock,  I 
call  for  something  to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  hunger,  and  am  forth- 
with confronted  with  a  loaf  of  black  bread,  villanously  heavy,  and 
given  a  preliminary  peep  into  a  large  jar  of  a  crumbly  white  sub- 
stance as  villanously  odoriferous  as  the  bread  is  heavy,  and  which 
I  think  the  proprietor  expects  me  to  look  upon  as  cheese.  This 
native  product  seems  to  be  valued  by  the  people  here  in  proportion 
as  it  is  rancid,  being  regarded  by  them  with  more  than  affection 
when  it  has  reached  a  degree  of  rancidness  and  odoriferousness 
that  would  drive  a  European — barring  perhaps,  a  Limburger — 
out  of  the  house.  These  two  delicacies,  and  the  inevitable  tiny 
cups  of  black  bitter  coffee  make  up  all  the  edibles  the  khan  af- 
fords ;  so  seeing  the  absence  of  any  alternative,  I  order  bread  and 
coffee,  prepared  to  make  the  most  of  circumstances.  The  pro- 
prietor being  a  kindly  individual,  and  thinking  perhaps  that  limited 
means  forbid  my  indulgence  in  such  luxuries  as  the  substance  in 
the  earthenware  jar,  in  the  kindness  of  his  heart  toward  a  lone 
stranger,  scoops  out  a  small  portion  with  his  unwashed  hand,  puts 
it  in  a  bowl  of  water  and  stirs  it  about  a  little  by  way  of  washing  it, 
drains  the  water  off  through  his  fingers,  and  places  it  before  me. 

While  engaged  in  the  discussion  of  this  delectable  meal,  a  cara- 
van of  mules  arrives  in  charge  of  seven  rough-looking  Turks,  who 
halt  to  procure  a  feed  of  barley  for  their  animals,  the  sujjplying  of 
which  appears  to  be  the  chief  business  of  the  khan-jee.  No  sooner 
have  these  men  alighted  and  ascertained  the  use  of  the  bicycle,  than 
I  am  assailed  with  the  usual  importunities  to  ride  for  their  further 
edification.  It  would  be  quite  as  reasonable  to  ask  a  man  to  fiy  as 
to  ride  a  bicycle  anywhere  near  the  khan;  but  in  the  innocence  of 
their  hearts  and  the  dulness  of  their  Oriental  understandings  they 
think  differently.     They  regard  my  objections  as  the  result  of  a  per- 


278  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

verse  and  coiltrary  disposition,  and  my  explanation  of  "  minikin 
deijil "  as  but  a  groundless  excuse  born  of  my  unwillingness  to 
oblige.  One  old  gray-beard,  after  examining  the  bicycle,  eyes  me 
meditatively  for  a  moment,  and  then  comes  forward  with  a  humor- 
ous twinkle  in  his  eyfi,  and  pokes  me  playfully  in  the  libs,  and 
makes  a  peculiar  noise  with  the  mouth :  "  q-u-e-e-k,"  in  an  effort 
to  tickle  me  into  good-humor  and  compliance  with  their  wishes ; 
in  addition  to  which,  the  artful  old  dodger,  thinking  thus  to  work 
on  my  vanity,  calls  me  "  Pasha  Effendi."  Finding  that  toward  their 
entreaties  I  give  but  the  same  reply,  one  of  the  younger  men  coolly 
advocates  the  use  of  force  to  coerce  me  into  giving  them  an  exhi- 
bition of  my  skill  on  the  at'aba.  As  far  as  I  am  able  to  interpret, 
this  bold  visionary's  argument  is  :  "Behold,  we  are  seven  ;  Effendi 
is  only  one  ;  we  are  good  Mussulmans — peace  "be  with  us — he  is 
but  a  Frank — ashes  on  his  head — let  us  make  him  bin." 


CHAPTEK  XII. 

THROUGH  THE  ANGORA  GOAT  COUNTRY. 

The  other  members  of  tbe  caravan  company,  while  equally  anx- 
ious to  see  the  performance,  and  no  doubt  thinking  me  quite  an 
unreasonable  person,  disapprove  of  the  young  man's  proposition  ; 
and  the  khnn-jee  severely  reprimands  him  for  talking  about  resort- 
ing to  force,  and  turning  to  the  others,  he  lays  his  forefingers  to- 
gether and  says  something  about  Franks,  Mussulmans,  Turks,  and 
Ingilis  ;  meaning  that  even  if  we  are  Franks  and  Mussulmans,  we 
are  not  prevented  from  being  at  the  same  time  allies  and  brothers. 

From  the  khan  the  ascent  is  more  gradual,  though  in  places 
muddy  and  disagreeable  from  the  drizzling  rain  which  still  falls, 
and  about  4  p.m.  I  arrive  at  the  summit.  The  descent  is  smoother, 
and  shorter  than  the  western  slope,  but  is  even  more  a,brupt ;  the 
composition  is  a  slaty,  blue  clay,  in  which  the  caravans  have  worn 
trails  so  deep  in  places  that  a  mule  is  hidden  completely  from 
view.  There  is  no  room  for  animals  to  pass  each  other  in  these 
deep  trench-like  trails,  and  were  any  to  meet,  the  only  possible 
plan  is  for  the  ascending  animals  to  be  backed  down  until  a  wider 
place  is  reached.  There  is  little  danger  of  the  larger  caravans  be- 
ing thus  caught  in  these  "  traps  for  the  unwary,"  since  each  can 
hear  the  other's  approach  and  take  precautions ;  but  single  horse- 
men and  small  parties  must  sometimes  find  themselves  obliged  to 
either  give  or  take,  in  the  depths  of  these  queer  highways  of  com- 
merce. It  is  quite  an  awkward  task  to  descend  with  the  bicycle, 
as  for  much  of  the  way  the  trail  is  not  even  wide  enough  to  admit 
of  trundling  in  the  ordinary  manner,  and  I  have  to  adopt  the  same 
tactics  in  going  down  as  in  coming  up  the  mountain,  with  the  dif- 
ference, that  on  the  eastern  slope  I  have  to  pull  back  qiiite  as  stout- 
ly as  I  had  to  push  forward  on  the  western.  In  going  down  I  meet 
a  man  with  three  donkeys,  but  fortunately  I  am  able  to  scramble 
up  the  bank  sufficiently  to  let  him  pass.  His  donkeys  are  loaded 
with  half -ripe  grapes,  which  he  is  perhaps  taking  all  the  way  to 


280  FROM   SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

ConstaHtinojple  in  this  slow  and  laborious  manner,  and  he  offers 
me  some  as  an  inducement  for  me  to  ride  for  his  benefit.  Some 
wheelmen,  being  possessed  of  a  sensitive  nature,  would  undoubt- 
edly think  they  had  a  right  to  feel  aggrieved  or  insulted  if  offered 
a  bunch  of  unripe  grapes  as  an  inducement  to  go  ahead  and  break 
their  necks  ;  but  these  people  here  in  Asia  Minor  are  but  simple- 
hearted,  overgrown  children  ;  they  wiU  go  straight  to  heaven  when 
they  die,  every  one  of  them. 

At  six  o'clock  I  roll  into  Tereklu,  having  found  ridable  road  a 
mile  or  so  before  reaching  town.  After  looking  at  the  cyclometer 
I  begin  figuring  up  the  number  of  days  it  is  likely  to  take  me  to 
reach  Teheran,  if  yesterday  and  to-day  have  been  expository  of  the 
country  ahead  ;  forty  and  one-third  miles  yesterday  and  nineteen 
and  a  half  to-day,  thirty  miles  a  day — ^rather  slow  progress  for  a 
wheelman,  I  mentally  conclude  ;  but,  although  I  would  rather  ride 
from  "  Land's  End  to  John  O'Groat's  "  for  a  task,  than  bicycle  over 
the  ground  I  have  traversed  between  here  and  Ismidt,  I  find  the 
tough  work  interlarded  with  a  sufficiency  of  novel  and  interesting 
phases  to  make  the  occupation  congenial  Upon  dismounting  at 
Tereklu,  I  find  myself  but  little  fatigued  with  the  day's  exertions, 
and  with  a  view  to  obtaining  a  little  peace  and  freedom  from  impor- 
tunities to  ride  after  supper,  I  gratify  Asiatic  curiosity  several 
times  before  undertaking  to  aUay  the  pangs  of  hunger — a  piece  of 
self-denial  quite  commendable,  even  if  taken  in  connection  with  the 
idea  of  self-protection,  when  one  reflects  that  I  had  spent  the  day 
in  severe  exercise,  and  had  eaten  since  morning  only  a  piece  of 
bread. 

Not  long  after  my  arrival  at  Tereklu  I  am  introduced  to  another 
peculiar  and  not  unknown  phase  of  the  character  of  these  people, 
one  that  I  have  sometimes  read  of,  but  was  scarcely  prepared  to 
encounter  before  being  on  Asian  soil  three  days.  From  some  of 
them  having  received  medical  favors  from  the  medicine  chest  of 
travellers  and  missionaries,  the  Asiatics  have  come  to  regard  every 
Frank  who  passes  through  theii-  country  as  a  skilful  physician, 
capable  of  all  sorts  of  wonderful  things  in  the  way  of  curiu"-  their 
ailments  ;  and  immediately  after  supper  I  am  waited  upon  by  my 
first  patient,  the  mulazim  of  the  Tereklu  zaptiehs.  He  is  a  tall, 
pleasant-faced  fellow,  whom  I  remember  as  having  been  wonder- 
fully courteous  and  considerate  whUe  I  was  riding  for  the  people 
before   supper,  and  he  is  suffering  with  neuralgia  in  his   lower 


THEOUGII  THE   ANGORA   GOAT   COUNTRY.  281 

jaw.  He  comes  and  seats  himself  beside  me,  rolls  a  cigarette  in 
silence,  liglits  it,  and  hands  it  to  me,  and  then,  with  the  confident 
assurance  of  a  child  approaching  its  mother  to  be  soothed  and 
cured  of  some  ailment,  he  requests  me  to  cure  his  aching  jaw, 
seemingly  having  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  my  ability  to  afford 
him  instant  relief.  I  ask  him  why  he  don't  apply  to  the  hakim 
(doctor)  of  his  native  town.  He  roUs  another  cigarette,  makes  me 
throw  the  half-consumed  one  away,  and  having  thus  ingratiated 
himself  a  trifle  deeper  into  my  affections,  he  tells  me  that  the  Te- 
reklu  hakim  is  "fenna  ;  "  in  other  words,  no  good,  adding  that  th«re 
is  a  duz  hakim  at  Gieveh,  but  Gieveh  is  over  the  Kara  Su  dagh. 
At  this  juncture  he  seems  to  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that  perhaps 
I  require  a  good  deal  of  coaxing  and  good  treatment,  and,  taking 
me  by  the  hand,  he  leads  me  in  that  affectionate,  brotherly  manner " 
down  the  street  and  into  a  coffee-Man,  and  spends  the  nest  hour 
in  pressing  upon  me  coffee  and  cigarettes,  and  referring  occasion- 
ally to  his  aching  jaw.  The  poor  fellow  tries  so  hard  to  make  him- 
self agreeable  and  awaken  my  sympathies,  that  I  really  begin  to 
feel  myself  quite  an  ingrate  in  not  being  able  to  afford  him  any 
relief,  and  slightly  embarrassed  by  my  inability  to  convince  him 
that  my  failure  to  cure  him  is  not  the  result  of  indifference  to  his 
sufferings. 

Casting  about  for  some  way  of  escape  without  sacrificing  his 
good-will,  and  having  in  mind  a  box  of  pills  I  have  brought  along, 
I  give  him  to  understand  that  I  am.  at  the  top  of  the  medical  pro- 
fession as  a  stomach-ache  hakim,  but  as  for  the  jaw-ache  I  am,  un- 
fortunately, even  worse  than  his  compatriot  over  the  way.  Had  I 
attempted  to  persuade  him  that  I  was  not  a  doctor  at  all,  he  would 
not  have  believed  me  ;  his  mind  being  unable  to  grasp  the  idea  of 
a  Frank  totally  unacquainted  with  the  noble  .ffi^sculapian  art ;  but 
he  seems  quite  aware  of  the  existence  of  specialists  in  the  profes- 
sion, and  notwithstanding  my  inability  to  deal  with  his  particular 
affliction,  my  modest  confession  of  being  unexcelled  in  another 
branch  of  medicine  seems  to  satisfy  him.  My  profound  knowledge 
of  stomachic  disorders  and  their  treatment  excuses  my  ignorance 
of  neuralgic  remedies. 

There  seems  to  be  a  larger  proportion  of  supeiior  dwelling- 
houses  in  Tereklu  than  in  Gieveh,  although,  to  the  misguided  mind 
of  an  unbeliever  from  the  West,  they  have  cast  a  sort  of  a  funereal 
shadow  over  this  otherwise  desirable   feature   of  their  town  by 


282  FROM   SAW   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

buikliug  flieir  principal  residences  around  a  populous  cemetery, 
wbicli  plays  tlie  part  of  a  large  central  square.  The  houses  are 
mostly  two-story  frame  buildings,  and  the  omnipresent  balconies 
and  all  the  windows  are  faced  with  close  lattice  work,  so  that  the 
Osmanli  ladies  can  enjoy  the  luxury  of  gazing  contemplatively  out 
on  the  area  of  disorderly  grave-stones  without  being  subjected  to 
the  prying  eyes  of  passers-bj'.  In  the  matter  of  veiling  their  faces 
the  women  of  these  interior  towns  place  no  such  liberal — not  to 
say  coquettish — interpretation  upon  the  ofSce  of  the  yashmak  as 
do  their  sisters  of  the  same  religion  in  and  about  Constantinople. 
The  ladies  of  Tereklu,  seemingly,  have  a  holy  horror  of  displaying 
any  of  their  facial  charms  ;  the  only  possible  opportunity  offered 
of  seeing  anything,  is  to  obtain  an  occasional  glimpse  of  the  one 
black  eye  with  which  they  timidly  survey  you  through  a  small 
opening  in  the  folds  of  their  shroud-Uke  outer  garment,  that  en- 
cases them  from  head  to  foot ;  and  even  this  peeping  window  of 
their  souls  is  frequently  hidden  behind  the  impenetrable  yashviak. 

Mussulman  women  are  the  most  gossipy  and  inquisitive  creat- 
ures imaginable ;  a  very  natural  result,  I  suppose,  of  having  had 
their  feminine  rights  divine  under  constant  restraint  and  suppres- 
sion by  the  peculiar  social  position  women  occupy  in  Mohammedan 
countries.  When  I  have  arrived  in  town  and  am  surrounded  and 
hidden  from  outside  view  by  a  solid  wall  of  men,  it  is  really  quite 
painful  to  see  the  women  standing  in  small  groups  at  a  distance 
trying  to  make  out  what  all  the  excitement  is  about.  Nobody 
seems  to  have  a  particle  of  sympathy  for  their  very  natural  inquisi- 
tiveness,  or  even  to  take  any  notice  of  their  presence.  It  is  quite 
surprising  to  see  how  rapidly  the  arrival  of  the  Frank  with  the 
wonderful  araba  becomes  known  among  these  women  from  one  end 
of  town  to  another  ;  in  an  incredibly  short  space  of  time,  groups  of 
shrouded  forms  begin  to  appear  on  the  housetops  and  other  van- 
tage-points, craning  their  necks  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  whatever  is 
going  on. 

In  the  innocence  of  an  unsophisticated  nature,  and  a  feelin" 
of  genuine  sympathy  for  their  position,  I  propose  collecting  these 
scattered  groups  of  neglected  females  together  and  giving  an  exhi- 
bition for  their  especial  benefit,  but  the  men  evidently  regard  the 
idea  of  going  to  any  trouble  out  of  consideration  for  them  as  quite 
ridiculous  ;  indeed,  I  am  inclined  to  think  they  regard  it  as  evidence 
that  I  am  nothing  less  than  a  gay  Lothario,  who  is  betravino-  alto- 


THROUGH   THE   ANGORA   GOAT   COUNTKY.  283 

getber  too  much  interest  in  their  women  ;  for  the  old  school  Os- 
mauli  encompasses  those  hapless  mortals  about  with  a  green  wall  of 
jealousy,  and  regai'ds  with  disapproval,  even  so  much  as  a  glance  in 
theu-  direction.  While  riding  on  one  occasion,  this  evening,  I  noticed 
one  over-inquisitive  female  become  so  absorbed  in  the  proceedings 
as  to  quite  forget  herself,  and  approach  nearer  to  the  crowd  than 
the  Tereklu  idea  of  propriety  would  seem  to  justify.  Li  her  absent- 
mindedness,  while  watching  me  ride  slowly  up  and  dismount,  she 
allowed  her  yashmak  to  become  disarranged  and  reveal  her  features. 
This  awful  indiscretion  is  instantly  detected  by  an  old  Blue-beard 
standing  by,  who  eyes  the  offender  severely,  but  says  nothing  ;  if 
she  is  one  of  his  own  wives,  or  the  wife  of  an  intimate  friend,  ilxe 
poor  lady  has  perhaps  earned  for  herself  a  chastisement  with  a 
stick  later  in  the  evening. 

Human  nature  is  pretty  much  the  same  in  the  Orient  as  any- 
where else  ;  the  degradation  of  woman  to  a  position  beneath  her 
proper  level  has  borne  its  legitimate  fruits  ;  the  average  Turkish 
woman  is  said  to  be  as  coarse  and  unchaste  in  her  conversation  as 
the  lowest  outcasts  of  Occidental  society,  and  is  given  to  assaihng 
her  lord  and  master,  when  angry,  with  language  anything  but 
choice. 

It  is  hardly  six  o'clock  when  I  issue  forth  next  morning,  but 
there  are  at  least  fifty  women  congregated  in  the  cemetery,  along- 
side which  my  route  leads.  During  the  night  they  seem  to  have 
made  up  their  minds  to  grasp  the  only  opportunity  of  "  seeing  the 
elephant "  by  witnessing  my  departm-e  ;  and  as,  "  when  a  woman 
will  she  will,"  etc.,  applies  to  Turkish  ladies  as  well  as  to  any  others, 
in  their  laudable  determination  not  to  be  disappointed  they  have 
been  patiently  squatting  among  the  gray  tombstones  since  early 
dawn.  The  roadway  is  anything  but  smooth,  nevertheless  one 
could  scarce  be  so  dead  to  all  feelings  of  commiseration  as  to  re- 
main unmoved  by  the  sight  of  that  patiently  waiting  crowd  of 
shrouded  females  ;  accordingly  I  mount  and  pick  my  way  along  the 
street  and  out  of  town.  Modest  as  is  this  performance,  it  is  the 
most  marvellous  thing  they  have  seen  for  many  a  day ;  not  a 
sound  escapes  them  as  I  wheel  by,  they  remain  as  silent  as  though 
they  were  the  ghostly  population  of  the  graveyard  they  occupy,  for 
which,  indeed,  shrouded  as  they  are  in  white  from  head  to  foot, 
they  might  easUy  be  mistaken  by  the  superstitious. 

My  road  leads  over  an  undulating  depression  between  the  higher 


284  FROM   SAN   rEANCISCO    TO   TEHERAN. 

hills,  a  region  of  small  streams,  wheat-fields,  and  irrigating  ditches, 
among  which  several  trails,  leading  from  Tereklu  to  numerous  vil- 
lages scattered  among  the  mountains  and  neighboring  small  valleys, 
make  it  quite  difficult  to  keep  the  proper  road.  Once  I  wander  off 
my  proper  course  for  several  miles  ;  finding  out  my  mistake  I  deter- 
mine upon  regaining  the  Torbali  trail  by  a  short  cut  across  the  stub- 
ble-fields and  uncultivated  knolls  of  scrub  oak.  This  brings  me 
into  an  acquaintanceship  with  the  shepherds  and  husbandmen,  and 
the  ways  of  their  savage  dogs,  that  proves  more  lively  than  agreeable. 
Here  and  there  I  find  primitive  threshing-floors  ;  they  are  simply 
spots  of  level  ground  selected  in  a  central  position  and  made  smooth 
and  hard  by  the  combined  labors  of  the  several  owners  of  the  ad- 
joining fields,  who  use  them  in  common.  Eain  in  harvest  is  very 
unusual ;  therefore  the  trouble  and  expense  of  covering  them  is 
considered  unnecessary.  At  each  of  these  threshing-centres  I  find  a 
merry  gathering  of  villagers,  some  threshing  out  the  grain,  others 
winnowing  it  by  tossing  it  aloft  with  wooden,  flat-pronged  forks  ; 
the  wind  blows  the  lighter  chaff  aside,  while  the  grain  falls  back 
into  the  heap.  When  the  soil  is  sandy,  the  grain  is  washed  in  a 
neighboring  stream  to  take  out  most  of  the  grit,  and  then  spread 
out  on  sheets  in  the  sun  to  dry  before  being  finally  stored  away 
in  the  granaries.  The  threshing  is  done  chiefly  by  the  boys  and 
women,  who  ride  on  the  same  kind  of  broad  sleigh-runner-shaped 
boards  described  in  European  Turkey. 

The  sight  of  my  approaching  figure  is,  of  course,  the  signal  for 
a  general  suspension  of  operations,  and  a  wondering  as  to  what  sort 
of  being  I  am.  If  I  am  riding  along  some  well-worn  by-trail,  the 
women  and  younger  people  invariably  betray  their  apprehensions 
of  my  unusual  appearance,  and  seldom  fail  to  exhibit  a  disposition 
to  flee  at  my  approach,  but  the  conduct  of  their  dogs  causes  me 
not  a  little  annoyance.  They  have  a  noble  breed  of  canines 
throughout  the  Angora  goat  country — fine  animals,  as  large  as  New- 
foundlands, with  a  good  deal  the  appearance  of  the  mastiff ;  and 
they  display  their  hostility  to  my  intrusion  by  making  straight  at 
me,  evidently  considering  me  fair  game.  These  dogs  are  invalu- 
able friends,  but  as  enemies  and  assailants  they  are  not  exactly 
calculated  to  win  a  'cycler's  esteem.  In  my  unusual  appearance 
they  see  a  strange,  undefinable  enemy  bearing  down  toward  their 
friends  and  owners,  and,  like  good,  faithful  dogs,  they  hesitate  not 
to  commence  the  attack ;  sometimes  there  is  a  man  among  the 


THROUGH   THE   ANGORA    GOAT   COUNTRY. 


285 


threshers  and  winnowers  who  retains  presence  of  mind  enough  to 
notice  the  dogs  sallying  forth  to  attack  me,  and  to  think  of  calling 
them  back ;  but  oftener  I  have  to  defend  myself  as  best  I  can, 
while  the  gaping  crowd,  too  dumfounded  and  overcome  at  my  un- 
accountable appearance  to  think  of  anything  else,  simply  stare  as 
though  expecting  to  see  me  sail  up  into  space  out  of  harm's  way, 
or  perform  some  other  miraculous  feat.     My  general  tactics  are  to 


Lively  Times. 


dismount  if  riding,  and  manoeuvre  the  machine  so  as  to  keep  it 
between  myself  and  my  savage  assailant  if  there  be  but  one  ;  and  if 
more  than  one,  make  feints  with  it  at  them  alternately,  not  for- 
getting to  caress  them  with  a  handy  stone  whenever  occasion 
offers.  There  is  a  certain  amount  of  cowardice  about  these  animals 
notwithstanding  their  size  and  fierceness ;  they  are  afraid  and 
suspicious  of  the  bicycle  as  of  some  dreaded  supernatural  object ; 
and  although  I  am  sometimes  fairly  at  my  wit's  end  to  keep  them 


286  FBOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

at  bay,  I  manage  to  avoid  tlie  necessity  of  sliooting  any  of  them. 
I  have  learned  that  to  kill  one  of  these  dogs,  no  matter  how  great 
the  provocation,  would  certainly  get  me  into  serious  trouble  with 
the  natives,  who  value  them  very  highly  and  consider  the  wilful 
killing  of  one  little  short  of  murder  ;  hence,  my  forbearance. 

When  I  arrive  at  a  threshing-floor,  and  it  is  discovered  that  I  am 
actually  a  human  being  and  do  not  immediately  encompass  the 
destruction  of  those  whose  courage  has  been  equal  to  awaiting  my 
arrival,  the  women  and  children  who  have  edged  off  to  some  dis- 
tance now  approach,  quite  timidly  though,  as  if  not  quite  certain 
of  the  prudence  of  trusting  their  eyesight  as  to  the  peaceful  nature 
of  my  mission  ;  and  the  men  vie  with  each  other  in  their  eager- 
ness to  give  me  all  desired  information  about  my  course  ;  sometimes 
accompanying  me  a  considerable  distance  to  make  sure  of  guiding 
me  aright.  But  their  contumacious  canine  friends  seem  anything 
but  reassured  of  my  character  or  willing  to  suspend  hostilities  ;  in 
spite  of  the  friendly  attitude  of  their  masters  and  the  peacefulness 
of  the  occasion  generallj',  they  make  furtive  dashes  through  the 
ranks  of  the  spectators  at  me  as  I  wheel  round  the  small  circular 
threshing-floor,  and  savagely  snap  at  the  revolving  wheels.  Some- 
times, after  being  held  in  check  until  I  am  out  of  sight  beyond 
a  knoll,  these  vindictive  and  determined  assailants  will  sneak 
around  through  the  fields,  and,  overtaking  me  unseen,  make  stealthy 
onslaughts  upon  me  from  the  brush ;  my  only  safety  is  in  unre- 
mitting vigilance.  Like  the  dogs  of  most  semi-civilized  peoples, 
they  are  but  imperfectly  trained  to  obey  ;  and  the  natives  dislike 
checking  them  in  their  attacks  upon  anybody,  arguing  that  so 
doing  interferes  with  the  courage  and  ferocity  of  their  attack  when 
called  upon  for  a  legitimate  occasion. 

It  is  very  questionable,  to  say  the  least,  if  inoffensive  wayfarers 
should  be  expected  to  quietly  submit  to  the  unprovoked  attack  of 
ferocious  animals  large  enough  to  tear  down  a  man,  merely  in  view 
of  possibly  checking  their  ferocity  at  some  other  time.  When  caper- 
ing wildly  about  in  an  unequal  contest  with  three  or  four  of  these 
animals,  while  conscious  of  having  the  means  at  hand  to  give  them 
all  their  quietus,  one  feels  as  though  he  were  at  that  particular 
moment  doing  as  the  Romans  do,  with  a  vengeance  ;  nevertheless, 
it  has  to  be  borne,  and  I  manage  to  come  through  with  nothing 
worse  than  a  rent  in  the  leg  of  my  riding  trousers. 

Finally,  after  fording  several  small  streams,  giving  half  a  dozen 


THROUGH   THE  ANGORA   GOAT  COUNTRY.  287 

threshing-floor  exhibitions,  and  running  the  gauntlet  of  no  end  of 
warlike  canines,  I  reach  the  lost  Torbali  trail,  and,  find  it  running 
parallel  with  a  range  of  hills,  intersecting  numberless  small  streams, 
across  which  are  sometimes  found  precarious  foot-bridges  consisting 
of  a  tree-trunk  felled  across  it  from  bank  to  bank,  the  work  of  some 
enterprising  peasant  for  his  own  particular  benefit  rather  than  the 
outcome  of  public  spirit.  Occasional! j'  I  bowl  merrily  along  stretches 
of  road  which  nature  and  the  caravans  together  have  made  smooth 
enough  even  to  justify  a  spurt ;  but  like  a  fleeting  dream,  this  favor- 
able locality  passes  to  the  rearward,  and  is  followed  by  another 
mountaiu-slope  whose  steep  grade  and  rough  surface  reads  "  trundle 
only." 

They  seem  the  most  timid  people  hereabout  I  ever  saw.  Few 
of  them  but  show  unmistakable  signs  of  being  frightened  at  my 
approach,  even  when  I  am  trundling — the  nickel-plate  glistening  iu 
the  sunlight,  I  think,  inspires  them  with  awe  even  at  a  distance — 
aud  while  climbing  this  hill  I  am  the  innocent  cause  of  the  ignomini- 
ous flight  of  a  youth  riding  a  donkey.  While  yet  two  hundred 
yards  away,  he  reins  up  and  remains  transfixed  for  one  transitory 
moment,  as  if  making  sure  that  his  eyes  are  not  deceiving  him,  or 
that  he  is  really  awake,  and  then  hastily  turns  tail  and  bolts  across 
the  country,  belaboring  his  long-eared  charger  into  quite  a  lively 
gallop  in  his  wild  anxiety  to  escape  from  my  awe-inspiring  presence  ; 
and  as  he  vanishes  across  a  field,  he  looks  back  anxiously  to  reas- 
sure himself  that  I  am  not  giving  chase.  Ere  kind  friends  and 
thoughtful  well-wishers,  with  aU  their  warnings  of  danger,  are  three 
days'  journey  behind,  I  find  myseK  among  people  who  run  away  at 
my  approach.  Shortly  afterward  I  observe  this  bold  donkey-rider 
half  a  mile  to  the  left,  ti-ying  to  pass  me  and  gain  my  rear  unob- 
served. Others  whom  I  meet  this  forenoon  are  more  courageous  ; 
instead  of  resorting  to  flight,  they  keep  boldly  on  theii-  general 
course,  simply  edging  off  to  a  respectful  distance  from  my  road  ; 
some  even  venture  to  keep  the  road,  taking  care  to  give  me  a  suffi- 
ciently large  margin  over  and  above  my  share  of  the  way  to  insure 
against  any  possibDity  of  giving  offence  ;  while  others  will  even  greet 
me  with  a  feeble  effort  to  smile,  and  a  timid,  hesitating  look,  as  if 
undecided  whether  they  are  not  venturing  too  far.  Sometimes  I 
stop  and  ask  these  lion-heai-ted  specimens  whether  I  am  on  the 
ri^ht  road,  when  they  give  a  hurried  reply  and  immediately  take 
themselves  off,  as  if  startled  at  their  own  temerity. 


288  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

These,  of  course,  are  lone  individuals,  with  no  companions  to 
bolster  up  their  courage  or  witness  their  cowardice  ;  the  conduct  of 
a  party  is  often  quite  the  reverse.  Sometimes  they  seem  deter- 
mined not  to  let  me  proceed  without  riding  for  them,  whether  rocky 
ridge,  sandy  depression,  or  mountain-slope  characterizes  our  meet- 
ing place,  and  it  requires  no  small  stock  of  forbearance  and  tact  to 
get  away  from  them  without  bringing  on  a  serious  quarrel.  They 
take  hold  of  the  machine  whenever  I  attempt  to  leave  them,  and 
give  me  to  understand  that  nothing  but  a  compliance  with  their 
vsdshes  will  secure  my  release  ;  I  have  known  them  even  try  the 
effect  of  a  little  warlike  demonstration,  having  vague  ideas  of  gaining 
their  object  by  intimidation  ;  and  this  sort  of  thing  is  kept  up  until 
their  own  stock  of  patience  is  exhausted,  or  until  some  more  reason- 
able member  of  the  company  becomes  at  last  convinced  that  it 
really  must  be  "  minikin  deyil,  "  after  all ;  whereupon  they  let  me  go, 
ending  the  whole  annoying,  and  yet  really  amusing,  performance 
by  giving  me  the  most  minute  particulars  of  the  route  ahead,  and 
parting  in  the  best  of  humor.  To  lose  one's  temper  on  these  occa- 
sions, or  to  attempt  to  forcibly  break  away,  is  quickly  discovered  to 
be  the  height  of  folly  ;  they  themselves  are  brimful  of  good  humor, 
and  from  beginning  to  end  their  countenances  are  wreathed  in 
smiles  ;  although  they  fairly  detain  me  prisoner  the  whUe,  they 
would  never  think  of  attempting  any  real  injury  to  either  myself  or 
the  bicycle.  Some  of  the  more  enterprising  even  express  their  de- 
termination of  trying  to  ride  the  machine  themselves  ;  but  I  always 
make  a  firm  stand  against  any  such  liberties  as  this  ;  and,  rough, 
half-civilized  fellows  though  they  often  are,  armed,  and  fully  under- 
standing the  advantage  of  numbers,  they  invariably  yield  this  point 
when  they  find  me  seriously  determined  not  to  allow  it. 

Descending  into  a  narrow  valley,  I  reach  a  road-side  khan,  ad- 
joining a  thrifty-looking  melon-garden — this  latter  a  welcome  sight, 
since  the  day  is  warm  and  sultry  ;  and  a  few  minutes'  quiet,  soulful 
communion  with  a  good  ripe  water-melon,  I  think  to  myself,  wiU  be 
just  about  the  proper  caper  to  indulge  in  after  being  worried  with 
dogs,  people,  small  streams,  and  unridable  hills  since  six  o'clock. 

"  Carpoose?"  I  inquu-e,  addressing  the  proprietor  of  the  khan, 
who  issues  forth  from  the  stable. 

"  Peeki,  effendi,"  he  answers,  and  goes  off  to  the  gai-den  for  the 
melon.  Smiling  sweetly  at  vacancy,  in  joyous  anticipation  of  the 
coming  feast  and  the  soothing  influence  I  feel  sure  of  its  exerting 


THROUGH   THE  ANGORA   GOAT   OOTJNTRT.  289 

upon  my  feelings,  somewhat  ruffled  by  the  many  annoyances  of  the 
morning,  I  seek  a  quiet,  shady  corner,  thoughtfully  loosening  iny 
i-evolver-belt  a  couple  of  notches  ere  sitting  down.  In  a  minute  the 
khan-jee  returns,  and  hands  me  a  "  cucumber  "  about  the  size  of  a 
man's  forearm. 

"That  isn't  a  cai'poose;  I  want  a  carjjoose — a  sii  carpoose!"  I 
explain. 

"  Su  carpoose,  yoke  !  "  he  replies  ;  and  as  I  have  not  yet  reached 
that  reckless  disregard  of  possible  consequences  to  which  I  after- 
ward attain,  I  shrink  from  tempting  Providence  by  trying  conclu- 
sions with  the  overgrown  and  untrustworthy  cucumber  ;  so  bidding 
the  khan-jee  adieu,  I  wheel  off  down  the  valley.  I  find  a  fau-  propor- 
tion of  good  road  along  this  valley  ;  the  land  is  rich,  and  though 
but  rudely  tilled,  it  produces  wonderfully  heavy  crops  of  grain  when 
irrigated.  Small  vUlages,  surrounded  by  neglected-looking  orchards 
and  vineyards,  abound  at  frequent  intervals.  Wherever  one  finds 
an  orchard,  ■\'ineyard,  or  melon-patch,  there  is  also  almost  certain  to 
be  seen  a  human  being  evidently  doing  nothing  but  sauntering  about, 
or  perhaps  eating  an  unripe  melon. 

This  naturally  creates  an  unfavorable  impression  upon  a  traveller's 
mind  ;  it  means  either  that  the  kleptomaniac  tendencies  of  the  people 
necessitate  standing  guard  over  all  portable  property,  or  that  the 
Asiatic  follows  the  practice  of  hovering  around  all  summer,  watching 
and  waiting  for  natui-e  to  bestow  her  blessings  upon  his  undeserving 
head.  Along  this  valley  I  meet  a  Turk  and  his  wife  bestriding  the 
same  diminutive  -donkey,  the  woman  riding  in  front  and  steering 
their  long-eared  craft  by  the  terror  of  her  tongue  in  lieu  of  a  bridle. 
The  fearless  lady  halts  her  steed  as  I  aj)proach,  trundling  my  wheel, 
the  ground  being  such  that  riding  is  possible  but  undesirable. 
"  What  is  that  for,  effendi  ?  "  inquires  the  man,  who  seems  to  be 
the  more  inquisitive  of  the  two.  "  WTiy,  to  bin,  of  course  !  don't 
you  see  the  saddle?"  says  the  woman,  without  a  moment's  hesita- 
tion ;  and  she  bestows  a  glance  of  reproach  upon  her  worse  half  for 
thus  betraying  his  ignorance,  twisting  her  neck  round  in  order  to 
send  the  glance  straight  at  his  unoflending  head.  This  woman,  I 
mentally  conclude,  is  an  extraordinary  specimen  of  her  race ;  I  never 
saw  a  quicker- witted  person  anywhere  ;  and  I  am  not  at  all  surprised 
to  find  her  proving  herself  a  phenomenon  in  other  things.  When  a 
Turkish  female  meets  a  stranger  on  the  road,  and  more  especially  a 
Frank,  her  first  thought  and  most  natural  impulse  is  to  make  sure 
19 


290  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

that  no  part  of  her  features  is  visible — about  other  parts  of  her  per- 
son she  is  less  particular.  This  remarkable  woman,  however,  flings 
custom  to  the  winds,  and  instead  of  drawing  the  ample  folds  of  her 
abbas  about  her,  uncovers  her  face  entirely,  in  order  to  obtain  a 
better  view  ;  and,  being  unaware  of  my  limited  understanding,  she 
begins  discussing  bicycle  in  quite  a  chatty  manner.  I  fancy  her  poor 
husband  looks  a  trifle  shocked  at  this  outrageous  conduct  of  the  part- 
ner of  his  joys  and  sorrows  ;  but  he  remains  quietly  and  discreetly  in 
the  background ;  whereupon  I  register  a  silent  vow  never  more  to 
be  surprised  at  anything,  for  that  long-suffering  and  submissive 
being,  the  hen-pecked  husband,  is  evidently  not  unknown  even  in 
Asiatic  Turkey. 

Another  mountain-pass  now  has  to  be  climbed  ;  it  is  only  a  short 
distance — perhaps  two  miles — but  all  the  way  up  I  am  subjected  to 
the  disagreeable  experience  of  having  my  footsteps  dogged  by  two 
armed  villagers.  There  is  nothing  significant  or  exceptional  about 
their  being  armed,  it  is  true  ;  but  what  their  object  is  in  stepping 
almost  on  my  heels  for  the  whole  distance  up  the  acclivity  is  beyond 
my  comprehension.  Uncertain  whether  their  intentions  are  honest 
or  not,  it  is  anything  but  reassuring  to  have  them  following  within 
sword's  reach  of  one's  back,  especially  when  trundling  a  bicycle  up 
a  lonely  mountain-trail.  I  have  no  right  to  order  them  back  or 
forward,  neither  do  I  care  to  have  them  think  I  entertain  suspicions 
of  their  intentions,  for  in  all  probability  they  are  but  honest  villagers, 
satisfying  their  curiosity  in  their  own  peculiar  manner,  and  doubtless 
deriving  additional  pleasure  from  seeing  one  of  their  fellow-mortals 
laboriously  engaged  while  they  leisurely  foUow.  We  aU  know  how 
soul-satisfying  it  is  for  some  people  to  sit  around  and  watch  their 
fellow-man  saw  wood.  Whenever  I  halt  for  a  breathing-spell  they 
do  likewise  ;  when  I  continue  on,  they  promptly  take  up  their  line 
of  march,  following  as  before  in  silence  ;  and  when  the  summit  is 
reached,  they  seat  themselves  on  a  rock  and  watch  my  progress  down 
the  opposite  slope. 

A  couple  of  miles  down  grade  brings  me  to  Torbali,  a  place 
of  several  thousand  inhabitants  with  a  small  covered  bazaar  and 
every  appearance  of  a  thriving  interior  town,  as  thrift  goes  in 
Asia  Minor.  It  is  high  noon,  and  I  immediately  set  about  finding 
the  wherewithal  to  make  a  substantial  meal.  I  find  that  upon  arriv- 
ing at  one  of  these  towns,  the  best  possible  disposition  to  make  of 
the  bicycle  is  to  deliver  it  into  the  hands  of  some  respectable  Turk 


TIUIOUGII   THE   ANGOEA   GOAT   COUNTRY. 


291 


request  him  to  preserve  it  from  the  meddlesome  crowd,  and  then  pay 
no  further  attention  to  it  until  ready  to  start.  Attempting  to  keep 
watch  over  it  oneself  is  sure  to  result  in  a  dismal  failure,  whereas 
an  Osmanli  gray-beard  becomes  an  ever-willing  custodian,  regards 


r^PCXj^'^-^- 


A  Faithful   Guardian. 


its  safe-keeping  as  appealing  to  his  honor,  and  will  stand  guard  over 
it  for  hours  if  necessary,  keeping  the  noisy  and  curious  crowds  of 
his  townspeople  at  a  respectful  distance  by  brandishing  a  thick 
stick  at  anyone  who  ventures  to  approach  too  near.  These  men 
will  never  accept  payment  for  this  highly  appreciated  service,  it 
seems  to  appeal  to  the  Osmanli's  spirit  of  hospitality  ;  they  seem 


292  FEOM   SAN   FEANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAW. 

happy  as  clams  at  high  tide  while  gratuitously  protecting  my  prop- 
erty, and  I  have  known  them  to  unhesitatingly  incur  the  displeasure 
of  their  own  neighbors  by  officiously  carrying  the  bicycle  off  into  an 
inner  room,  not  even  granting  the  assembled  people  the  harmless 
privilege  of  looking  at  it  from  a  distance — for  there  might  be  some 
among  the  crowd  possessed  of  thefeniia  ghuz  (evil  eye),  and  rather 
than  have  them  fix  their  baleful  gaze  upon  the  important  piece  of 
property  left  under  his  charge  by  a  stranger,  he  chivalrously  braves 
the  displeasure  of  his  own  people  ;  smiling  complacently  at  their 
shouts  of  disapproval,  he  triumphantly  bears  it  out  of  their  sight 
and  from  the  fell  influence  of  the  possible  fenna  ghuz.  Another 
strange  and  seemingly  paradoxical  phase  of  these  occasions  is  that 
when  the  crowd  is  shouting  out  its  noisiest  protests  against  the 
withdrawal  of  the  machine  from  popular  inspection,  any  of  the 
protestors  will  eagerly  volunteer  to  help  carry  the  machine  inside, 
should  the  self-important  personage  having  it  in  custody  condescend 
to  make  the  slightest  intimation  that  such  service  would  be  accept- 
able. 

Handing  over  the  bicycle,  then,  to  the  safe-keeping  of  a  respect- 
able kahuay-jee  (coffee-Man  employee)  I  sally  forth  in  quest  of  eat- 
ables. The  kah  vay-jee  has  it  immediately  carried  inside  and  set  up  on 
one  of  the  divans,  in  which  elevated  position  he  graciously  permits 
it  to  be  gazed  upon  by  the  people,  who  swarm  into  his  khan  in  such 
numbers  as  to  make  it  impossible  for  him  to  transact  any  business. 
Under  the  guidance  of  another  volunteer,  who,  besides  acting  the 
part  of  guide,  takes  particular  care  that  I  get  lumping  weight,  etc., 
I  proceed  to  the  ett-jees  and  procure  some  very  good  mutton-chops, 
and  from  there  to  the  ekmek-jees  for  bread.  This  latter  person 
straightway  volunteers  to  cook  my  chops.  Sending  to  his  residence 
for  a  tin  dish,  some  chopped  onions  and  butter,  he  puts  them  in 
his  oven,  and  in  a  few  minutes  sets  them  before  me,  browned  and 
buttered.  Meanwhile,  he  has  despatched  a  youth  somewhere  on 
another  errand,  who  now  returns  and  supplements  the  savory  chops 
with  a  small  dish  of  honey  in  the  comb  and  some  green  figs.  Seated 
on  the  generous-hearted  ekmek-jee's  dough-board,  I  make  a  din- 
ner good  enough  for  anybody. 

While  discussing  these  acceptable  viands,  I  am  somewhat 
startled  at  hearing  one  of  the  worst  "  cuss-words  "  in  the  English 
language  repeated  several  times  by  one  of  the  two  Turks  engaged 
in  the  self-imposed  duty  of  keeping  people  out  of  the  place  while 


THROUGH   THE  ANGORA  GOAT  COTJNTEY.  293 

I  am  eating — a  kindly  piece  of  courtesy  that  wins  for  them  my 
warmest  esteem.  Tlie  old  fellow  proves  to  be  a  Crimean  veteran, 
and,  besides  a  much-prized  medal  he  brought  back  with  him,  he 
somehow  managed  to  acquire  this  discreditable,  perhaps,  but 
nevertheless  unmistakable,  memento  of  having  at  some  time  or 
other  campaigned  it  with  "  Tommy  Atkins."  I  try  to  engage  him 
iu  conversation,  but  find  that  he  doesn't  know  another  solitary 
word  of  English.  He  simply  repeats  the  profane  expression  al- 
luded to  in  a  parrot-like  manner  without  knowing  anything  of  its 
meaning ;  has,  in  fact,  forgotten  whether  it  is  English,  French,  or 
Italian.  He  only  knows  it  as  a  "  Prank  "  expression,  and  in  that 
he  is  perfectly  right :  it  is  a  frank  expression,  a  very  frank  expres- 
sion indeed.  As  if  determined  to  do  something  agreeable  in  return 
for  the  gratifying  interest  I  seem  to  be  taking  in  him  on  account  of 
this  profanity,  he  now  disappears,  and  shortly  returns  vsith  a  young 
man,  who  turns  out  to  be  a  Greek,  and  the  only  representative  of 
Christendom  in  Torbali.  The  old  Turk  introduces  him  as  a  "  Ka- 
ris-ti-ahn  "  (Christian)  and  then,  in  reply  to  questioners,  explains  to 
the  interested  on-lookers  that,  although  an  Englishman,  and,  unlike 
the  Greeks,  friendly  to  the  Turks,  I  also  am  a  "  Ka-ris-ti-ahn  ;  "  one 
of  those  queer  specimens  of  humanity  whose  perverse  nature  pre- 
vents them  from  embracing  the  religion  of  the  Prophet,  and  there- 
by gaining  an  entrance  into  the  promised  land  pf  the  Icara  ghuz  kiz 
(black-eyed  houris).  During  this  profound  exposition  of  my  merits 
and  demerits,  the  wondering  people  stare  at  me  with  an  expression 
on  their  faces  that  plainly  betrays  their  inabiUty  to  comprehend  so 
queer  an  individual ;  they  look  as  if  they  think  me  the  oddest  speci- 
men they  have  ever  met,  and  taking  into  due  consideration  my  novel 
mode  of  conveyance,  and  that  many  Torbali  people  never  before 
saw  an  Englishman,  this  is  probably  not  far  from  a  correct  inter- 
pretation of  their  thoughts. 

Unfortunately,  the  streets  and  environments  of  Torbali  are  ui  a 
most  wretched  condition  ;  to  escape  sprained  ankles  it  is  necessary 
to  walk  with  a  great  deal  of  caution,  and  the  idea  of  bicycHng 
through  them  is  simply  absurd.  Nevertheless  the  populace  tm-ns 
out  in  high  glee,  and  their  expectations  run  riot  as  I  relieve  the 
kahvay-jee  of  his  faithful  vigil  and  bring  forth  my  wheel.  They 
want  me  to  &wi  in  their  stuffy  little  bazaar,  crowded  with  people 
and  donkeys  ;  mere  alley-ways  with  scarcely  a  twenty  yard  stretch 
from  one  angle  to  another  ;  the  surface  is  a  disorganized  mass  of 


294  FROM   SAN   FBANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

lioles  and  stones  over  wliicli  the  wary  and  hesitative  donkey  picks 
his  way  with  the  greatest  care  ;  and  yet  the  popular  clamor  is  "  Bin, 
bin  ;  bazaar,  bazaar  !  "  The  people  who  have  been  showing  me  how 
courteously  and  considerately  it  is  possible  for  Turks  to  treat  a 
stranger,  now  seem  to  have  become  filled  with  a  determination  not 
to  be  convinced  by  anything  I  say  to  the  contrary  ;  and  one  of  the 
most  importunate  and  headstrong  among  them  sticks  his  bearded 
face  almost  up  against  my  own  placid  countenance  (I  have  akeady 
learned  to  wear  an  unrufiled,  martyr-like  expression  on  these  howl- 
ing occasions)  and  fairly  shrieks  out,  "Bin!  bin!"  as  though  de- 
termined to  hoist  me  into  the  saddle,  whether  or  no,  by  sheer  force 
of  his  own  desire  to  see  me  there.  This  person  ought  to  know 
better,  for  he  wears  the  green  turban  of  holiness,  proving  him  to 
have  made  a  pilgrimage  to  Mecca,  but  the  universal  desire  to  see 
the  bicycle  ridden  seems  to  level  all  distinctions. 

All  this  tumult,  it  must  not  ba  forgotten,  is  carried  on  in  perfect 
good  humor  ;  but  it  is,  nevertheless,  very  annoying  to  have  it  seem 
that  I  am  too  boorish  to  repay  their  kindness  by  letting  them  see 
me  ride ;  even  walking  out  of  town  to  avoid  gratifying  them,  as 
some  of  them  doubtless  think.  These  little  embarrassments  are 
some  of  the  penalties  of  not  knowing  enough  of  the  language  to  be 
able  to  enter  into  explanations.  Learning  that  there  is  a  piece  of 
wagon-road  immediately  outside  the  town,  I  succeed  in  silencing 
the  clamor  to  some  extent  by  promising  to  ride  when  the  araba 
yole  is  reached ;  whereupon  hundreds  come  flocking  out  of  town, 
following  expectantly  at  my  heels.  Consoling  myself  with  the 
thought  that  perhaps  I  will  be  able  to  mount  and  shake  the  clam- 
orous multitude  off  by  a  spurt,  the  promised  araba  yole  is  an- 
nounced ;  but  the  fates  are  plainly  against  me  to-day,  for  I  find 
this  road  leading  up  a  mountain  slope  from  the  very  beginning. 
The  people  cluster  expectantly  around,  while  I  endeavor  to  explain 
that  they  are  doomed  to  disappointment — that  to  be  disappointed 
in  their  expectations  to  see  the  araha  ridden  is  plainly  their  Jcismet, 
for  the  hill  is  too  steep  to  be  ridden.  They  laugh  knowingly  and 
give  me  to  understand  that  they  are  not  quite  such  simpletons  as 
to  think  that  an  araba  cannot  be  ridden  along  an  araba  yole.  "  This 
is  an  araba  yole,"  they  argue,  "  you  are  riding  an  araba  ;  we  have 
seen  even  our  own  clumsily-made  arabas  go  up  here  time  and  again, 
therefore  it  is  evident  that  you  are  not  sincere,"  and  they  gather 
closer  around  and  spend  another  ten  minutes  in  coaxing.     It  is  a 


THROUGH  THE   ANGOEA   GOAT   COUNTRY.  295 

ridiculous  position  to  be  in  ;  these  people  use  the  most  endearing 
terms  imaginable ;  some  of  them  kiss  the  bicycle  and  would  get 
down  and  kiss  my  dust-begrimed  moccasins  if  I  would  permit  it ; 
at  coaxing  they  are  the  most  persevering  people  I  ever  saw.  To 
convince  them  of  the  impossibility  of  riding  up  the  hill  I  allow  a 
muscular  young  Turk  to  climb  into  the  saddle  and  try  to  propel 
himself  forward  while  I  hold  him  up.  This  has  the  desired  effect, 
and  they  accompany  me  farther  up  the  slope  to  where  they  fancy 
it  to  be  somewhat  less  steep,  a  score  of  all  too-willing  hands  being 
extended  to  assist  in  trundling  the  machine.  Here  again  I  am 
subjected  to  another  interval  of  coaxing  ;  and  this  same  annoying 
programme  is  carried  out  several  times  before  I  obtain  my  release. 
They  are  the  most  headstrong,  persistent  people  I  have  yet  en- 
countered ;  the  natural  pig-headed  disposition  of  the  "  unspeakable 
Turk"  seems  to  fairly  run  riot  in  this  little  valley,  which  at  the 
point  where  Torbali  is  situated  contracts  to  a  mere  ravine  between 
rugged  heights. 

For  a  full  mile  up  the  mountain  road,  and  with  a  patient  insist- 
ence quite  commendable  in  itself,  thej'  persist  in  their  aggravating 
attentions ;  aggravating,  notwithstanding  that  they  remain  in  the 
best  of  humor,  and  treat  me  with  the  greatest  consideration  in 
every  other  respect,  promptly  and  severely  checking  any  unruly 
conduct  among  the  youngsters,  which  once  or  twice  reveals  itself 
in  the  shape  of  a  stone  pitched  into  the  wheel,  or  some  other  plea^ 
antry  pecuUar  to  the  immature  Turkish  mind.  At  length  one  en- 
terprising j'oung  man,  with  wild  visions  of  a  flying  wheelman 
descending  the  mountain  road  with  lightning-like  velocity,  comes 
prominently  to  the  fore,  and  unblushingly  announces  that  they 
have  been  bringing  me  along  the  wrong  road  ;  and,  with  something 
akin  to  exultation  in  his  gestures,  motions  for  me  to  turn  about 
and  ride  back.  Had  the  others  seconded  this  brilliant  idea  there 
was  nothing  to  prevent  me  from  being  misled  by  the  statement ; 
but  his  conduct  is  at  once  condemned;  for  though  pig-headed, 
they  are  honest  of  heai't,  and  have  no  idea  of  resorting  to  trickery 
to  gain  their  object.  It  now  occurs  to  me  that  perhaps  if  I  turn 
roxmd  and  ride  down  hill  a  short  distance  they  will  see  that  my 
trundUng  up  hill  is  really  a  matter  of  necessity  instead  of  choice, 
and  thus  rid  me  of  their  undesirable  presence. 

Hitherto  the  slope  has  been  too  abrupt  to_  admit  of  any  such 
thought,  but  now  it  becomes  more  gTadual.     As  I  expected,  the 


396  rEOM  SAN  FEANOISOO  TO  TEHEKAN. 

proposition  is  heralded  witli  unanimous  shouts  of  approval,  and  I 
take  particular  care  to  stipulate  that  after  this  they  are  to  follow  me 
no  farther  ;  any  condition  is  acceptable  to  them  as  long  as  it  in- 
cludes seeing  how  the  thing  is  ridden.  It  is  not  without  certain 
misgivings  that  I  mount  and  start  cautiously  down  the  declivity  be- 
tween two  rows  of  turbaned  and  fez-bedecked  heads,  for  I  have  not 
yet  forgotten  the  disagreeable  actions  of  the  mob  at  Adiianople  in 
running  up  behind  and  giving  the  bicycle  vigorous  forward  pushes, 
a  proceeding  that  would  be  npt  altogether  devoid  of  danger  here, 
for  besides  the  gradient,  one  side  of  the  road  is  a  yawning  chasm. 
These  people,  however,  confine  themselves  solely  to  howling  with 
delight,  proving  themselves  to  be  well-meaning  and  comparatively 
well-behaved  after  all.  Having  performed  my  part  of  the  com- 
pact, a  few  of  the  leading  men  shake  hands,  and  express  their 
gratitude  and  well-wishes  ;  and  after  calling  back  several  youngsters 
who  seem  unwilling  to  abide  by  the  agreement  forbidding  them 
to  follow  any  farther,  the  whole  noisy  company  proceed  along  foot- 
paths leading  down  the  cUfifs  to  town,  which  is  in  plain  view  almost 
immediately  below. 

The  entire  distance  between  Torbali  and  Keshtobek,  where  to- 
morrow forenoon  I  cross  over  into  the  vilayet  of  Angora,  is  through 
a  rough  country  for  bicycling.  Forest-clad  mountains,  rocky 
gorges,  and  rolling  hills  characterize  the  landscape  ;  rocky  passes 
lead  over  mountains  where  the  caravans,  engaged  in  the  exportation 
of  mohair  ever  since  that  valuable  commodity  first  began  to  be  ex- 
ported, have  worn  ditch-Kke  trails  through  ridges  of  solid  rock 
three  feet  in  depth  ;  over  the  less  rocky  and  precipitous  hills  be- 
yond a  comprehensive  view  is  obtained  of  the  country  ahead,  and 
these  time-honored  trails  are  seen  leading  in  many  directions, 
ramifying  the  country  like  veins  of  one  common  system,  which  are 
necessarily  drawn  together  wherever  there  is  but  one  pass.  Parts 
of  these  commercial  by-ways  are  frequently  found  to  be  roughly 
hedged  with  wild  pear  and  other  hardy  shrubs  indigenous  to  the 
country — the  relics  of  by-gone  days,  planted  when  these  now 
barren  hUls  were  cultivated,  to  protect  the  growing  crops  from 
depredation.  Old  miU-stones  with  depressions  in  the  centre, 
formerly  used  for  pounding  com  in,  and  pieces  of  hewn  masonry 
are  occasionally  seen  as  one  traverses  these  ancient  trails,  marking 
the  site  of  a  village  in  days  long  past,  when  cultivation  and  centres 
of  industry  were  more  conspicuous  features  of  Asia  Minor  than 


THROUGH  THE  ANGORA  GOAT  COUNTRY. 


297 


tliey  are  to-day ;  lone  graves  and  graves  in  clusters,  marked  by 
rude  uncMselled  headstones  or  oblong  mounds  of  bowlders,  are 
frequently  observed,  completing  the  scene  of  general  decay. 

While  riding  along  these  tortuous  ways,  the  smooth-worn  eamel- 
paths  sometimes  affording  excellent  \yheeling,  the  view  ahead  is 
often  obstructed  by  the  untrimmed  hedges  on  either  side,  and  one 
sometimes  almost  comes  into  collision,  in  turning  a  bend,  with 


The  Byways  of  Asia  Minor. 


horsemen,  wild-looking,  armed  formidably  in  the  manner  peculiar 
to  the  country,  as  though  they  were  assassins  stealing  forth  under 
cover.  Occasionally  a  female  bestriding  a  donkey  suddenly  ap- 
pears "but  twenty  or  thirty  yards  ahead,  the  narrowness  and  the 
crookedness  of  the  hedged-in  ti-ail  favoring  these  abrupt  meetings  ; 
shrouded  perhaps  in  a  white  abbas,  and  not  infrequently  riding  a 
white  donkey,  they  seldom  fail  to  inspire  thoughts  of  ghostly  eques- 
tiiennes  gliding  silently  along  these  now  half-deserted  pathways. 
Many  a  hasty  but  sincere  appeal  is  made  to  Allah  by  these  fright- 


298  FROM   SAN   PEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

ened  ladies  as  they  faucy  themselves  brought  suddenly  face  to  face 
with  the  evil  one  ;  more  than  once  this  afternoon  I  overhear  that 
agonizing  appeal  for  providential  aid  and  protection  of  which  I  am 
the  innocent  cause.  The  second  thought  of  the  lady — as  if  it 
occurred  to  her  that  with  any  portion  of  her  features  visible  she 
would  be  adjudged  unworthy  of  divine  interference  in  her  behalf 
— is  to  make  sure  that  her  yashmak  is  not  disarranged,  and  then 
comes  a  mute  appeal  to  her  attendant,  if  she  have  one,  for  some 
explanation  of  the  strange  apparition  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly 
confronting  them. 

In  view  of  the  nature  of  the  coimtry  and  the  distance  to  Kesh- 
tobek,  I  have  no  idea  of  being  able  to  reach  that  place  to-night, 
and  when  I  arrive  at  the  ruins  of  an  old  mud-built  khan,  at  dusk,  I 
conclude  to  sup  off  the  memories  of  my  excellent  dinner  and  a 
piece  of  bread  I  have  in  my  pocket,  and  avail  myseK  of  its  shelter 
for  the  night.  While  eating  my  frugal  repast,  up  ride  three  mule- 
teers, who,  after  consulting  among  themselves  some  minutes, 
finally  picket  their  animals  and  prepare  to  join  my  company  ; 
whether  for  aU  night  or  only  to  give  their  animals  a  feed  of  grass, 
I  am  unable  to  say.  Anyhow,  not  liking  the  idea  of  spending  the 
whole  night,  or  any  part  of  it,  in  these  unfrequented  hills  with 
three  ruffianly-looking  natives,  I  again  take  up  my  line  of  march 
along  mountain  mule-paths  for  some  three  miles  farther,  when  I 
descend  into  a  smaU  valley,  and  it  being  too  dark  to  undertake  the 
task  of  pitching  my  tent,  I  roU  myself  up  in  it  instead.  Soothed 
by  the  music  of  a  babbling  brook,  I  am  almost  asleep,  when  a 
glorious  meteor  shoots  athwart  the  sky,  lighting  up  the  valley  with 
startling  vividness  for  one  brief  moment,  and  then  the  dusky  pall 
of  night  descends,  and  I  am  gathered  into  the  arms  of  Morpheus. 

Toward  morning  it  grows  chilly,  and  I  am  but  fitfully  dozing 
in  the  early  gray,  when  I  am  awakened  by  the  bleating  and  the 
pattering  feet  of  a  small  sea  of  Angora  goats.  Starting  up,  I  dis- 
cover that  I  am  at  that  moment  the  mysterious  and  interesting 
subject  of  conversation  between  four  goatherds,  who  have  appar- 
ently been  quietly  surveying  my  sleeping  form  for  some  minutes. 
Like  our  covetous  friends  beyond  the  Kara  Su  Pass,  these  early- 
morning  acquaintances  are  unlovely  representatives  of  their  pro- 
fession ;  their  sword-blades  are  half  naked,  the  scabbards  being 
rudely  fashioned  out  of  two  sections  of  wood,  roughly  shaped  to  the 
blade,  and  bound  together  at  top  and  bottom  with  twine  •  in  addi- 


THROUGH  THE  AN60KA  GOAT  COUNTET. 


299 


tion  to  which  ai-e  bell-mouthed  pistols,  half  the  size  of  a  Queen 
Bess  blunderbuss.  This  villainous-looking  quai-tette  does  not  make 
a  very  reassuring  picture  in  the  foreground  of  one's  waking  mo- 
ments, but  they  ai-e  probably  the  most  harmless  mortals  imaginable ; 
anyhow,  after  seeing  me  astir,  they  pass  on  with  their  flocks  and 
herds  without  even  submitting  me  to  the  customary  catechizing. 

The  morning  light  reveals  in  my  surroundings  a  most  charming 
little  valley,  about  half  a  mile  wide,  walled  in  on  the  south  by  tow- 
ering mountains  covered  with  a  forest  of  pine  and  cedar,  and  on 
the  north  by  low,  brush-covered  hills  ;  a  small  brook  dances  along 


Early  Morning  Callers. 

the  middle,  and  thin  pasturage  and  scattered  clumps  of  willow 
fringe  the  stream.  Three  miles  down  the  valley  I  arrive  at  a  road- 
side Ichan,  where  I  obtain  some  hai-d  bread  that  requires  soaking  in 
water  to  make  it  eatable,  and  some  wormy  raisins ;  and  from  this 
choice  assortment  I  attempt  to  fill  the  aching  void  of  a  ravenous 
appetite ;  with  what  success  I  leave  to  the  reader's  imagination. 
Here  the  khan-jee  and  another  man  deliver  themselves  of  one  of 
those  strange  requests  pecuhar  to  the  Asiatic  Turk.  They  pool 
the  contents  of  their  respective  ti-easuries,  making  in  all  perhaps 
three  medjedis,  and,  with  the  simplicity  of  children  whoso 
minds  have  not  yet  dawned  upon  the  crooked  ways  of  a  wicked 
world,  they  offer  me  the  money  in  exchange  for  my  "Wliitehouse 


300  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAH". 

leather  case  with  its  contents.  They  Lave  not  the  remotest  idea 
of  what  the  case  contains  ;  but  their  inquisitiveness  apparently 
overcomes  all  other  considerations.  Perhaps,  however,  their  seem- 
ingly innocent  way  of  offering  me  the  money  may  be  their  own  pe- 
culiar deep  scheme  of  inducing  me  to  reveal  the  nature  of  its  con- 
tents. 

For  a  short  distance  down  the  valley  I  find  road  that  is  gener- 
ally ridable,  when  it  contracts  to  a  mere  ravine,  and  the  only 
road  is  the  bowlder  -  strewn  bed  of  the  stream,  which  is  now 
nearly  dry,  but  in  the  spring  is  evidently  a  raging  torrent.  An 
hour  of  this  delectable  exercise,  and  I  emerge  into  a  region  of  un- 
dulating hills,  among  which  are  scattered  wheat-fields  and  clusters 
of  mud-hovels  which  it  would  be  a  stretch  of  courtesy  to  term  vil- 
lages. Here  the  poverty  of  the  soil,  or  of  the  water-supply,  is  her- 
alded to  every  observant  eye  by  the  poverty-stricken  appearance  of 
the  villagers.  As  I  wheel  along,  I  observe  that  these  poor  half- 
naked  wretches  are  gathering  their  scant  harvest  by  the  laborious 
process  of  pulling  it  up  by  the  roots,  and  carrying  it  to  their  com- 
mon threshing-floor  on  donkeys'  backs.  Here,  also,  I  come  to  a 
camp  of  Turkish  gypsies ;  they  are  dark-skinned,  with  an  abun- 
dance of  long  black  hair  dangling  about  their  shoulders,  hke  our 
Indians ;  the  women  and  larger  girls  are  radiant  in  scarlet  calico 
and  other  high-colored  fabrics,  and  they  wear  a  profusion  of  bead 
necklaces,  armlets,  anklets,  and  other  ornaments  dear  to  the  semi- 
savage  mind  ;  the  younger  children  are  as  vnld  and  as  innocent  of 
clothing  as  their  boon  companions,  the  dogs.  The  men  affect  the 
fez  and  general  Turkish  style  of  dress,  with  many  unorthodox 
trappings  and  embellishments,  however ;  and  with  their  own  wild 
appearance,  their  high-colored  females,  naked  youngsters,  wolfish- 
looking  dogs,  picketed  horses,  and  smoke-browned  tents,  they 
make  a  scene  that,  for  picturesqueness,  can  give  odds  even  to  the 
wigwam-villages  of  Uncle  Sam's  Crow  scouts,  on  the  Little  Big 
Horn  River,  Montana  Territoiy,  which  is  saying  a  good  deal. 

Twelve  miles  from  my  last  night's  rendezvous,  I  pass  through 
Keshtobek,  a  village  that  has  evidently  seen  better  days.  The  iniina 
of  a  large  stone  khan  take  up  all  the  central  portion  of  the  place  ; 
massive  gateways  of  hewn  stone,  ornamented  by  the  sculptor's 
chisel,  are  still  standing,  eloquent  monuments  of  a  more  prosperous 
era.  The  unenterprising  descendants  of  the  men  who  erected  this 
substantial  and  commodious  retreat  for  passing  caravans  and  trav- 


THROUGH   THE  ANGORA   GOAT   COUNTRY.  301 

ellers  are  now  content  to  house  tliemselves  and  their  families  in 
tumble-down  hovels,  and  to  drift  aimlessly  and  unambitiously  along 
on  wretched  fare  and  worse  clothes,  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave. 
The  Keshtobek  people  seem  principally  interested  to  know  why  I 
am  travelling  without  any  zaptieh  escort ;  a  stranger  traveUing 
through  these  wooded  mountains,  without  guard  or  guide,  and  not 
being  able  to  converse  with  the  natives,  seems  almost  beyond  their 
belief.  When  they  ask  me  why  I  have  no  zaptieh,  I  tell  them  I  have 
one,  and  show  them  the  Smith  &  Wesson.  They  seem  to  regard 
this  as  a  very  witty  remark,  and  say  to  each  other  :  "  He  is  right ;  an 
English  effendi  and  an  American  revolver  don't  require  any  zaptiehs 
to  take  care  of  them,  they  are  quite  able  to  look  out  for  themselves.'' 

From  Keshtobek  my  road  leads  down  another  small  valley,  and 
before  long  I  find  myself  in  the  Angora  vilayet,  bowling  briskly  east- 
wai'd  over  a  most  excellent  road  ;  not  the  mule-paths  of  an  hour  ago, 
but  a  broad,  well-graded  highway,  as  good,  clear  into  Nalikhau, 
as  the  roads  of  any  New  England  State.  This  sudden  transition  is 
not  unnaturally  productive  of  some  astonishment  on  my  part,  and 
inquiries  at  Nalikhan  result  in  the  information  that  my  supposed 
graded  wagon-road  is  nothing  less  than  the  bed  of  a  proposed 
railway,  the  preliminary  grading  for  which  has  been  finished  be- 
tween Keshtobek  and  Angora  for  some  time. 

This  valley  seems  to  be  the  gateway  into  a  country  entirely  dif- 
ferent from  what  I  have  hitherto  traversed.  Unlike  the  forest- 
crowned  mountains  and  shrubbery  hills  of  this  morning,  the  moun- 
tains towering  aloft  on  every  hand  are  now  entirely  destitute  of 
vegetation ;  but  they  are  in  nowise  objectionable  to  look  upon  on 
that  account,  for  they  have  their  own  peculiar  features  of  loveli- 
ness. Various  colored  rocks  and  clays  enter  into  their  composi- 
tion ;  their  giant  sides  are  fantastically  streaked  and  seamed  with 
blue,  yeUow,  green,  and  red  ;  these  variegated  masses  encompass- 
in"  one  round  about  on  every  side  are  a  glorious  sight — they  are 
more  interesting,  more  imposing,  more  grand  and  impressive  even 
than  the  piny  heights  of  Kodjaili.  Many  of  these  mountains  bear 
evidence  of  mineral  formation,  and  anywhere  in  the  Occident  would 
be  the  scene  of  busy  operations.  In  Constantinople  I  heard  an  Eng- 
lish mineralist,  who  has  lived  many  years  in  the  country,  express 
the  belief  that  there  is  more  mineral  buried  in  these  Asia  Minor 
hills  than  in  a  corresponding  area  in  any  other  part  of  the  world  ; 
that  he   knew  people  who  for  years  have   had  their  eye  on  cer- 


302  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

tciin  localities  of  unusual  promise  waiting  patiently  for  tlie  advan- 
tages of  mineral  development  to  dawn  upon  the  sluggish  mind 
of  Osmanli  statesmen.  At  present  it  is  useless  to  attempt  pro- 
specting, for  there  is  no  guarantee  of  security  ;  no  sooner  is  anything 
of  value  discovered  than  the  finder  is  embarrassed  by  imperial  taxes, 
local  taxes,  backsheesh,  and  all  manner  of  demands  on  his  resources, 
often  ending  in  having  everything  coolly  confiscated  by  the  govern- 
ment ;  which,  like  the  dog  in  the  manger,  will  do  nothing  with  it, 
and  is  perfectly  contented  and  apathetic  so  long  as  no  one  else  is 
reaping  any  benefit  from  it. 

The  general  ridableness  of  this  chemin  de  fer,  as  the  natives 
have  been  taught  to  call  it,  proves  not  to  be  without  certain  disad- 
vantages, for  during  the  afternoon  I  unwittingly  manage  to  do 
considerable  mischief.  Suddenly  meeting  two  horsemen,  when 
bowling  at  a  moderate  pace  around  a  bend,  the  horse  of  one 
takes  violent  exception  to  my  intrusion,  and,  in  spite  of  the  ex- 
cellent horsemanship  of  his  rider,  backs  down  into  a  small  ravine, 
both  horse  and  rider  coming  to  grief  in  some  water  at  the  bot- 
tom. Fortunately,  neither  man  nor  horse  sustained  any  more 
serious  injury  than  a  few  scratches  and  bruises,  though  it  might 
easily  have  resulted  in  broken  bones.  Soon  after  this  affair,  an- 
other donkey-rider  takes  to  his  heels,  or  rather  to  his  donkey's 
heels  across  country,  and  his  long-eared  and  generally  sure-footed 
charger  ingloriously  comes  to  earth ;  but  I  feel  quite  certain  that 
no  damage  is  sustained  in  this  case,  for  both  steed  and  rider  are 
instantly  on  their  feet ;  the  bold  steeple-chaser  looks  wildly  and 
apprehensively  toward  me,  but  observing  that  I  am  giving  chase, 
it  dawns  upon  his  mind  that  I  am  perhaps  after  all  a  human  being, 
whereupon  he  refrains  from  further  flight. 

Wheeling  down  the  gentle  declivity  of  a  broad,  smooth  road  that 
almost  deserves  the  title  of  boulevard,  leading  through  the  vine- 
yards and  gardens  of  Nalikhan's  environments,  at  quite  a  rattling 
pace,  I  startle  a  quarry  of  four  dears  (deers)  robed  in  white  man- 
tles, who,  the  moment  they  observe  the  strange  apparition  ap- 
proaching them  at  so  vengeful  a  speed,  bolt  across  a  neighboring 
vineyard  like  the  aU-possessed.  The  rapidity  of  their  movements, 
notwithstanding  the  impedimenta  of  their  flowing  shrouds,  readily 
suggests  the  idea  of  a  quarry  of  dears  (deer),  but  whether  thev  are 
pretty  dears  or  not,  of  course,  their  yashmaks  fail  to  reveal ;  but  in 
return  for  the  beaming  smile  that  lights  up  our  usually  solemn- 


THROUGH   THE   ANGORA    GOAT   COUNTRY. 


303 


looking  countenance  at  their  ridiculously  hasty  flight,  as  a  recipro- 
cation pure  and  simple,  I  suppose  we  ought  to  give  them  the  bene- 
fit of  the  doubt. 

The  evening  at  Nalikhan  is  a  comparatively  happy  occasion  ;  it  is 
Friday,  the  Mussulman  Sabbath ;  everybody  seems  fairly  well-dressed 
for  a  Turkish  interior  town  ;  and,  more  important  than  all,  there  is 
a  good,  smooth  road  on  which  to  satisfy  the  popular  curiosity  ;  on 
this  latter  fact  depends  all  the  difference  between  an  agreeable  and 
a  disagreeable  time,  and  at  Nalikhan  everything  passes  off  pleasantly 
for  all  concerned.  Apart  from  the  novelty  of  my  conveyance,  few 
Europeans  have  ever  visited  these  interior  places  under  the  same 


A  Quarry  of  Startled  Dears. 


conditions  as  myself.  They  have  usually  provided  themselves  be- 
forehand with  letters  of  introduction  to  the  pashas  and  mudirs  of 
the  villages,  who  have  entertained  them  as  their  guests  during  their 
stay.  On  the  contrary,  I  have  seen  fit  to  provide  myself  with  none 
of  these  way-smoothing  missives,  and,  in  consequence  of  my  linguis- 
tic shortcomings,  immediately  upon  reaching  a  town  I  have  to  sur- 
render myself,  as  it  were,  to  the  intelligence  and  good-will  of  the 
common  people  ;  to  their  credit  be  it  recorded,  I  can  invariably 
count  on  their  not  lacking  at  least  the  latter  qualification. 

The  little  khan  I  stop  at  is,  of  course,  besieged  by  the  usual  crowd, 
but  they  are  a  happy-heai-ted,  contented  people,  bent  on  lionizing  me 


304  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

the  best  they  know  how  ;  for  have  they  not  witnessed  my  marvellous 
performance  of  riding  an  araba,  a  beautiful  web-like  araba,  more 
beautiful  than  any  makina  they  ever  saw  before,  and  in  a  manner 
that  upsets  all  their  previous  ideas  of  equilibrium  ?  Have  I  not 
proved  how  much  I  esteem  them  by  riding  over  and  over  again  for 
fresh  batches  of  new  arrivals,  until  the  whole  population  has  seen 
the  performance  ?  And  am  I  not  hobnobbing  and  making  myself 
accessible  to  the  people,  instead  of  being  exclusive  and  going 
straightway  to  the  pasha's,  shutting  myself  up  and  permitting  none 
but  a  few  privileged  persons  to  intrude  upon  my  privacy  ?  AH  these 
things  appeal  strongly  to  the  betternature  of  the  imaginative  Turks, 
and  not  a  moment  during  the  whole  evening  am  I  suffered  to  be  un- 
conscious of  their  great  appreciation  of  it  all.  A  bountiful  supper 
of  scrambled  eggs  fried  in  butter,  and  then  the  mulazim  of  zaptiehs 
takes  me  under  his  special  protection  and  shows  me  around  the 
town.  He  shows  me  where  but  a  few  days  ago  the  Nalikhan  ba- 
zaar, with  all  its  multifarious  merchandise,  was  destroyed  by  fire, 
and  points  out  the  temporary  stalls,  among  the  black  ruins,  that 
have  been  erected  by  the  pasha  for  the  poor  merchants  who,  with 
heavy  hearts  and  doleful  countenance,  are  trying  to  recuperate 
their  shattered  fortunes.  He  calls  my  attention  to  two-story 
wooden  houses  and  other  modest  structures,  which,  in  the  sim- 
plicity of  his  Asiatic  soul,  he  imagines  are  objects  of  interest ;  and 
then  he  takes  me  to  the  headquarters  of  his  men,  and  sends  out 
for  coffee  in  order  to  make  me  literally  his  guest.  Here,  in  his 
office,  he  calls  my  attention  to  a  chromo  hanging  on  the  wall,  which 
he  says  came  from  Stamboul — Stamboul,  where  the  Asiatic  Turk 
fondly  imagines  all  wonderful  things  originate.  This  chromo  is 
certainlj'  a  wonderful  thing  in  its  way.  It  represents  an  English 
trooper  in  the  late  Soudan  expedition  kneeling  behind  the  shelter 
of  a  dead  camel,  and  with  a  revolver  in  each  hand  keeping  at  bay 
a  crowd  of  Arab  spearmen.  The  soldier  is  badly  wounded,  but 
with  smoking  revolvers  and  an  evident  determination  to  die  hard, 
he  has  checked,  and  is  still  checking,  the  advance  of  somewhere 
about  ten  thousand  Arab  troops.  No  wonder  the  people  of  Kesh- 
tobek  thought  an  Englishman  and  a  revolver  quite  safe  in  travel- 
ling without  zaptiehs  ;  some  of  them  had  probably  been  to  Nalikhan 
and  seen  this  same  chromo. 

When  it  gxows  dark  the  mulazim  takes  me  to  the^ublic  coffee- 
garden,  near  the  burned  bazaar,  a  place  which  is  really  no  garden  at 


THROUGH  THE  ANGORA  GOAT  COUNTRY.  305 

all,  only  some  broad,  rude  benches  encircling  a  round  water-tank  or 
fountain,  and  whfch  is  fenced  in  with  a  low,  wabbly  picket-fence. 
Seated  crossed-legged  on  the  benches  are  a  score  of  sober-sided 
Turks,  smoking  nargilehs  and  cigarettes,  and  sipping  coffee ;  the 
feeble  light  dispensed  by  a  lantern  on  top  of  a  pole  in  the  centre 
of  the  tank  makes  the  darkness  of  the  "  garden  "  barely  visible  ;  a 
continuous  splashing  of  water,  the  result  of  the  overflow  from  a 
pipe  projectiug  three  feet  above  the  surface,  furnishes  the  only 
music  ;  the  sole  auricular  indication  of  the  presence  of  patrons 
is  when  some  customer  orders  "Jcahvay  "  or  "nargileh  "  in  a  scarcely 
audible  tone  of  voice  ;  and  this  is  the  Turk's  idea  of  an  evening's 
enjoyment. 

EeturniDg  to  the  Man,  I  find  it  full  of  happy  people  looking  at 
the  bicycle ;  commenting  on  the  wonderful  marifet  (skill)  appar- 
ent in  its  mechanism,  and  the  no  less  marvellous  marifet  required 
in  riding  it.  They  ask  me  if  I  made  it  myself  and  katch-lira  ? 
(how  many  liras  ?)  and  then  requesting  the  privilege  of  looking 
at  my  teskeri  they  find  ■  rare  amusement  in  comparing  my  personal 
charms  with  the  description  of  my  form  and  features  as  interpreted 
by  the  passport  of&cer  in  Galata.  Two  men  among  them  have  ia 
some  manner  picked  up  a  sand  from  the  sea-shore  of  the  English 
language.  One  of  them  is  a  very  small  sand  indeed,  the  solitary 
negative  phrase,  "no;"  nevertheless,  during  the  evening  he  in- 
spires the  attentive  auditors  with  respect  for  his  linguistic  accom- 
plishments by  asking  me  numerous  questions,  and  then,  antici- 
pating a  negative  reply,  forestalls  it  himself  by  querying,  "No?" 
The  other  "  linguist "  has  in  some  unaccountable  manner  added 
the  ability  to  say  "  Good  morning  "  to  his  other  accomplishments  ; 
and  when  about  time  to  retire,  and  the  crowd  reluctantly  bestirs 
itself  to  depart  from  the  magnetic  presence  of  the  bicycle,  I  notice 
an  extraordinary  degree  of  mysterious  whispering  and  suppressed 
amusement  going  on  among  them,  and  then  they  commence  filing 
slowly  out  of  the  door  with  the  "  linguistic  person  "  at  their  head  ; 
as  that  learned  individual  reaches  the  threshold  he  turns  toward 
me,  makes  a  salaam  and  says,  "Good-morning,"  and  everyone  of 
the  company,  even  down  to  the  ii-repressible  youngster  who  was 
cuffed  a  minute  ago  for  venturing  to  twirl  a  pedal,  and  who  now 
forms  the  rear-guard  of  the  column,  likewise  makes  a  salaam  and 
says,  "Good-morning."  ' 

Quilts  are  provided  for  me,  and  I  spend  the  night  on  the  divan 
SO 


306'  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

of  the  khan  ;  a  few  roving  mosquitoes  wander  in  at  the  open  window 
and  sing  their  siren  songs  around  my  couch,  a  few  entomological 
specimens  sally  forth  from  their  permanent  abode  in  the  lining  of 
the  quilts  to  attack  me  and  disturb  my  slumbers  ;  but  later  experi- 
ence teaches  me  to  regard  my  slumbers  to-night  as  comparatively 
peaceful  and  undisturbed.  In  the  early  morning  I  am  awaikened 
by  the  murmuring  voices  of  visitors  gathering  to  see  me  off ;  coffee 
is  handed  to  me  ere  my  eyes  are  fairly  open,  and  the  savory  odor 
of  eggs  already  sizzling  in  the  pan  assail  mj'  olfactory  nerves. 
The  khan-jeeis  an  Osmanliand  a  good  Mussulman,  and  when  ready 
to  depart  I  carelessly  toss  him  my  purse  and  motion  for  him  to 
help  himself — a  thing  I  would  not  care  to  do  mth  the  keeper  of  a 
small  tavern  in  any  other  country  or  of  any  other  nation.  Were 
he  entertaining  me  in  a  private  capacity  he  would  feel  injured  at 
any  hint  of  payment ;  but  being  a  khan-jee,  he  opens  the  purse  and 
extracts  a  cherik — twenty  cents. 


CIIAPTEE  XIII. 

BEY  BAZAAE,  ANGORA,  AND  EASTWARD. 

A  TRDKDLE  of  half  an  hour  up  the  steep  slopes  leading  out  of 
another  of  those  narrow  valleys  in  which  all  these  towns  are  situated, 
and  then  comes  a  gentle  declivity  extending  with  but  little  inter- 
ruption for  several  miles,  winding  in  and  out  among  the  ineqijalities 
of  an  elevated  table-land.  The  mountain-breezes  blow  cool  and  ex- 
hilarating-, and  just  before  descending  into  the  little  Chai-khan  Val- 
ley I  pass  some  interesting  cliffs  of  castellated  rocks,  the  sight  of 
which  immediately  wafts  my  memory  back  across  the  thousands  of 
miles  of  land  and  water  to  what  they  are  almost  a  counterpart  of — 
the  famous  castellated  rocks  of  Green  Eiver,  Wyo.  Ter. 

Another  scary  youth  takes  to  his  heels  as  I  descend  into  the  val- 
ley and  halt  at  the  village  of  Charkhan,  a  mere  shapeless  cluster  of 
mud-hovels.  Before  one  of  these  a  ragged  agriculturist  solemnly  pre- 
sides over  a  small  heap  of  what  I  unfortunately  mistake  at  the  time 
for  pumpkins.  I  say  "unfortunately,"  because  after-knowledge 
makes  it  highly  probable  that  they  were  the  celebrated  Charhkan 
musk-melons,  famous  far  and  wide  for  their  exquisite  flavor ;  the 
variety  can  be  grown  elsewhere,  but,  strange  to  say,  the  peculiar, 
delicate  flavor  which  makes  them  so  celebrated  is  absent  when  they 
vegetate  anywhere  outside  this  particular  locality.  It  is  supposed  to 
be  owing  to  some  peculiar  mineral  properties  of  the  soil.  The 
Charkhan  Valley  is  a  wild,  weird-looking  region,  looking  as  if  it 
were  habitually  subjected  to  destructive  downpourings  of  rain,  that 
have  washed  the  grand  old  mountains  out  of  all  resemblance  to 
neighboring  ranges  round  about.  They  are  of  a  soft,  shaly  composi- 
tion, and  are  worn  by  the  elements  into  all  manner  of  queer,  fantastic 
shapes ;  this,  together  with  the  same  variegated  colors  observed 
yesterday  afternoon,  gives  them  a  distinctive  appearance  not  easily 
forgotten.  They  are  "  grand,  gloomy,  and  peculiar  ;  "  especially  are 
they  peculiar.  The  soil  of  the  valley  itself  seems  to  be  drift-mud 
from  the  surrounding  hills ;  a  stream  furnishes  water  sufficient  to 


308  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

irrigate  a  number  of  rice-fields,  whose  brilliant  emerald  hue  loses 
none  of  its  brightness  from  being  surrounded  by  a  framework  of 
barren  hills. 

Ascending  from  this  interesting  locality  my  road  now  traverses 
a  dreary,  monotonous  district  of  whitish,  sun-blistered  hiUs,  water- 
less and  verdureless  for  fourteen  mUes.  The  cool,  refreshing 
breezes  of  early  morning  have  been  dissipated  by  the  growing  heat 
of  the  sun  ;  the  road  continues  fairly  good,  and  while  riding  I  am 
unconscious  of  oppressive  heat ;  but  the  fierce  rays  of  the  sun 
blisters  my  neck  and  the  backs  of  my  hands,  turning  them  red 
and  causing  the  skin  to  peel  off  a  few  days  afterward,  besides  ruin- 
ing a  section  of  my  gossamer  coat  exposed  on  top  of  the  Lamson 
carrier.  The  air  is  dry  and  thirst-creating,  there  is  considerable 
hUl-climbing  to  be  done,  and  long  ere  the  fourteen  miles  are  cov- 
ered I  become  sufficiently  warm  and  thirsty  to  have  little  thought 
of  anything  else  but  reaching  the  means  of  quenching  thirst. 
Away  off  in  the  distance  ahead  is  observed  a  dark  object,  whose 
character  is  indistinct  through  the  shimmering  radiation  from  the 
heated  hills,  but  which,  upon  a  nearer  approach,  proves  to  be  a 
jujube-tree,  a  welcome  sentinel  in  those  arid  regions,  beckoning 
the  thirsty  traveller  to  a  never-failing  supply  of  water.  At  the 
jujube-tree  I  find  a  most  magnificent  fountain,  pouring  forth  at 
least  twenty  gallons  of  delicious  cold  water  to  the  minute.  The 
spring  has  been  walled  up  and  a  marble  spout  inserted,  which 
gushes  forth  a  round,  crystal  column,  as  though  endeavoring  to 
compensate  for  the  prevailing  ariJuess  and  to  apologize  to  the 
thirsty  wayfarer  for  the  inhospitableness  of  its  surroundings. 

Miles  away  to  the  northward,  perched  high  up  among  the  ra- 
vines of  a  sun-baked  mountain -spur,  one  can  see  a  circumscribed 
area  of  luxuriant  foliage.  This  conspicuous  oasis  in  the  desert 
marks  the  source  of  the  beautiful  road-side  fountain,  which  traverses 
a  natural  subterranean  passage-way  between  these  two  distant  points. 
These  little  isolated  clumps  of  waving  trees,  rearing  their  green 
heads  conspicuously  above  the  surrounding  barrenness,  are  an  un- 
erring indication  of  both  water  and  human  habitations.  Often  one 
sees  them  suddenly  when  least  expected,  nestling  in  a  little  depres- 
sion high  up  some  mountain-slope  far  away,  the  little  dark-green 
area  looking  almost  black  in  contrast  with  the  whitish  color  of  the 
hills.  These  are  literally  "oases  in  the  desert,"  on  a  smaU  scale, 
and  although  from  a  distance  no  sign  of  human  habitations  appear, 


BET   BAZAATI,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  309 

since  they  are  but  mud-hovels  corresponding  in  color  to  the  hills 
themselves,  a  closer  examination  invariably  reveals  well-worn  don- 
key-trails leading  from  different  directions  to  the  spot,  and  per- 
chance a  white-turbaned  donkey-rider  slowly  wending  his  way 
along  a  trail. 

The  heat  becomes  almost  unbearable  ;  the  region  of  treeless, 
shelterless  hills  continues  to  characterize  my  way,  and  when,  at  two 
o'clock  P.M.,  I  reach  the  town  of  Bey  Bazaar,  I  conclude  that  the 
thu'ty-nine  miles  already  covered  is  the  limit  of  discretion  to-day, 
considering  the  oppressive  heat,  and  seek  the  friendly  accommoda- 
tion of  a  khan.  There  I  find  that  while  shelter  from  the  fierce  heat  of 
the  sun  is  obtainable,  peace  and  quiet  are  altogether  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Bey  Bazaar  is  a  place  of  eight  thousand  inhabitants,  and  the 
khan  at  once  becomes  the  objective  point  of,  it  seems  to  me,  half  the 
population.  I  put  the  machine  up  on  a  barricaded  yaltack-Aivan, 
and  climb  up  after  it ;  here  I  am  out  of  the  meddlesome  reach  of 
the  "  madding  crowd,"  but  there  is  no  escaping  from  the  bedlam- 
like clamor  of  their  voices,  and  not  a  few,  yielding  to  their  uncon- 
trollable curiosity,  undertake  to  invade  my  retreat ;  these  invariably 
"  skedaddle  "  respectfully  at  my  request,  but  new-comers  are  con- 
tinually intruding.  The  tumult  is  quite  deafening,  and  I  should 
certainly  not  be  surprised  to  have  the  k/ian-jee  request  me  to  leave 
the  place,  on  the  reasonable  ground  that  my  presence  is,  imder  the 
circumstances,  detrimental  to  his  interests,  since  the  crush  is  so 
great  that  transacting  business  is  out  of  the  question.  The  khan-je.f, 
however,  proves  to  be  a  speculative  individual,  and  quite  contraiy 
thoughts  are  occupying  his  mind.  His  subordinate,  the  kahvay-jee, 
presents  himself  with  mournful  countenance  and  humble  attitude, 
points  with  a  perplexed  air  to  the  surging  mass  of  fezzes,  turbans, 
and  upturned  Turkish  faces,  and  explains — what  needs  no  explana- 
tion other  than  the  evidence  of  one's  own  eyes — that  he  cannot 
transact  his  business  of  making  coffee. 

" This  is  your  khan,"  I  reply ;    "  why  not  turn  them  out?  " 

"  Mashallah,  effendi  I  I  would,  but  for  everyone  I  turned  out, 
two  others  would  come  in — the  sons  of  burnt  fathers  ! "  he  says, 
casting  a  reproachful  look  down  at  the  stmggling  crowd  of  his  fel- 
low-countrymen. 

'•■"What  do  you  propose  doing,  then?"  I  inquire. 

"  Eatch  para,  effendi,"  he  answers,  smiling  approvingly  at  his 
own  suggestion. 


310  FEOM   SAW  TEAlSrCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

The  enterprising  kahvay-jee  advocates  charging  them  an  admis- 
sion fee  of  five  paras  (half  a  cent)  each  as  a  measure  of  protection, 
both  for  himself  and  me,  proposing  to  make  a  "divvy"  of  the  pro- 
ceeds. Naturally  enough  the  idea  of  making  a  farthing  show  of 
either  myself  or  the  bicycle  is  anything  but  an  agreeable  proposi- 
tion, but  it  is  plainly  the  only  way  of  protecting  the  kahvay-jee  and 
his  khan  from  being  mobbed  all  the  afternoon  and  far  iuto  the  night 
by  a  surging  mass  of  inquisitive  people  ;  so  I  reluctantly  give  him 
permission  to  do  whatever  he  pleases  to  protect  himself.  I  have  no 
idea  of  the  financial  outcome  of  the  speculative  khan-jee's  expedient, 
but  the  arrangement  secures  me  to  some  extent  from  the  rabble, 
.though  not  to  any  appreciable  extent  from  being  worried.  The 
people  nearly  drive  me  out  of  my  seven  senses  with  their  peculiar 
ideas  of  making  themselves  agreeable,  and  honoring  me ;  they  offer 
me  cigarettes,  coffee,  mastic,  cognac,  fruit,  raw  cucumbers,  melons, 
everything,  in  fact,  but  the  one  thing  I  should  really  appreciate — a 
few  minutes  quiet,  undisturbed,  enjoyment  of  my  own  company  ; 
this  is  not  to  be  secured  by  locking  one's  self  in  a  room,  nor  by  any 
other  expedient  I  have  yet  tried  in  Asia.  After  examining  the 
bicycle,  they  want  to  see  my  "  Alia  Franga  "  watch  and  my  revolver  ; 
then  they  want  to  know  how  much  each  thing  costs,  and  scores  of 
other  things  that  appeal  strongly  to  their  excessively  inquisitive 
natures. 

One  old  fellow,  yearning  for  a  closer  acquaintance,  asks  me  if  I 
ever  saw  the  wonderful  "chu,  chu,  chu  !  chemin  defer  at  Stamboul," 
adding  that  he  has  seen  it  and  intends  some  day  to  ride  on  it ;  an- 
other hands  me  a  Crimean  medal,  and  says  he  fought  against  tlie 
Muscovs  with  the  "lagilis,''  while  a  third  one  solemnly  introduces 
himself  as  a  "makinis  "  (machinist),  fancying,  I  suppose,  that  there 
is  some  fraternal  connection  between  himself  and  me,  on  account 
of  the  bicycle  being  a  makina. 

I  begin  to  feel  uncomfortably  like  a  curiosity  in  a  dime  museum 
— a  position  not  exactly  congenial  to  my  nature  ;  so,  after  enduriu"' 
this  sort  of  thing  for  an  hour,  I  appoint  the  kahvay-jee  custodian  of 
the  bicycle  and  sally  forth  to  meander  about  the  bazaar  a  while, 
where  I  can  at  least  have  the  advantage  of  being  able  to  move 
about.  Upon  returning  to  the  khan,  an  hour  later,  I  find  there  a 
man  whom  I  remember  passing  on  the  road  ;  he  was  ridino-  a  don- 
key, the  road  was  all  that  could  be  desired,  and  I  swept  past  him  at 
racing  speed,  purely  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  in  order  to  treat 


BEY    BAZAAE,    ANGORA,    AND    EASTWARD,  311 

him  to  the  fibstract  sensation  of  blank  amazement.  This  impromptu 
action  of  mine  is  now  bearing  its  legitimate  fruit,  for,  surrounded 
by  a  most  attentive  audience,  the  wonder-struck  donkey-rider  is 
eudqavoring,  by  word  and  gesture,  to  impress  upon  them  some  idea 
of  the  speed  at  which  I  swept  past  him  and  vanished  round  a  bend. 

The  Icahvaij-jee  now  approaches  me,  puffing  his  cheeks  out  like  a 
penny  balloon  and  jerking  his  thumb  in  the  direction  of  the  street 
door.  Seeing  that  I  don't  quite  comprehend  the  meaning  of  this 
mysterious  facial  contortion,  he  whispers  confidentially  aside, 
"  pasha,"  and  again  goes  through  the  highly  interesting  perform- 
ance of  puffing  out  his  cheeks  and  winking  in  a  knowing  manner  ; 
he  then  says — also  confidentially  and  aside — "  lira,"  winking  even 
more  significantly  than  before.  By  all  this  theatrical  by-play,  the 
kahvay-jee  means  that  the  pasha — a  man  of  extraordinary  social, 
political,  and,  above  all,  financial  importance — has  expressed  a  wish 
to  see  the  bicycle,  and  is  now  outside  ;  and  the  kahvay-jee,  with 
many  significant  winks  and  mysterious  hints  of  "  lira,"  advises  me 
to  take  the  machine  outside  and  ride  it  for  the  pasha's  special  bene- 
fit. A  portion  of  the  street  near  by  is  "  ridable  under  difficulties  ;  " 
so  I  conclude  to  act  on  the  kahvay-jee' s  suggestion,  simply  to  see 
what  comes  of  it.  Nothing  particular  comes  of  it,  whereupon  the 
kahvay-jee  and  his  patrons  all  express  themselves  as  disgusted  be- 
yond measure  because  the  Pasha  failed — to  give  me  a  present. 

Shortly  after  this  I  find  myself  hobnobbing  with  a  small  com- 
pany of  ex-Mecca  pilgrims,  holy  personages  with  huge  green  tui'-, 
bans  and  flowing  gowns  ;  one  of  them  is  evidently  very  holy  in- 
deed, almost  too  holy  for  human  associations  one  would  imagine, 
for  in  addition  to  his  green  turban  he  wears  a  broad  green  kammer- 
hund  and  a  green  undergarment ;  he  is  in  fact  very  green  indeed. 
Then  a  crazy  person  pushes  his  way  forward  and  wants  me  to  cure 
him  of  his  mental  infirmity  ;  at  all  events  I  cannot  imagine  what 
else  he  wants  ;  the  man  is  crazy  as  a  loon,  he  cannot  even  give 
utterance  to  his  own  mother-tongue,  but  tries  to  express  himself 
in  a  series  of  disjointed  grunts  beside  which  the  soul-harrowing 
efforts  of  a  broken-winded  donkey  are  quite  melodious.  Someone 
has  probably  told  him  that  I  am  a  hakim,  or  a  wonderful  person  on 
general  principles,  and  the  fellow  is  sufficiently  conscious  of  his 
own  condition  to  come  forward  and  endeavor  to  grunt  himself  into 
my  favorable  consideration. 

Later  in  the  evening  a  couidIb  of  young  Turkish  dandies  come 


.312       FKOM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN. 

round  to  the  khan  and  favor  me  with  a  serenade ;  one  of  them 
twangs  a  doleful  melody  on  a  small  stringed  instrument,  some- 
thing like  the  Slavonian  tamborica,  and  the  other  oile  sings  a  dole- 
ful, melancholy  song  {nearly  all  songs  and  tunes  in  Mohammedan 
countries  seem  doleful  and  melancholy)  ;  afterwards  an  Arab  camel- 
driver  joins  in  with  a  dance,  and  furnishes  some  genuine  amuse- 
ment with  his  hip  play  and  bodily  contortions  ;  this  would  scarcely 
.be  considered  dancing  from  our  point  of  view,  but  it  is  according  to 
the  ideas  of  the  East.  The  dandies  are  distinguishable  from  the 
common  run  of  Turkish  bipeds,  like  the  same  species  in  other 
countries,  by  the  fearful  and  wonderful  cut  of  their  garments. 
The  Turkish  dandy  wears  a  tassel  to  his  fez  about  three  times 
larger  than  the  regulation  size,  and  he  binds  it  carefully  down  to 
the  fez  with  a  red  and  yellow  silk  handkerchief ;  he  wears  a  jaunty- 
looking  short  jacket  of  bright  blue  cloth,  cut  behind  so  that  it 
reaches  but  Uttle  below  his  shoulder-blades  ;  the  object  of  this  is 
apparently  to  display  the  whole  of  the  multifold  kammerbund,  a 
wonderful,  colored  waist-scarf  that  is  wound  round  and  round  the 
waist  many  times,  and  which  is  held  at  one  end  by  an  assistant, 
while  the  wearer  spins  round  like  a  dancing  dervish,  the  assistant 
advancing  gradually  as  the  human  bobbin  takes  up  the  length. 
The  dandy  wears  knee-breeches  corresponding  in  color  to  his 
jacket,  woollen  stockings  of  mingled  red  and  black,  and  low,  slipper- 
like shoes  ;  he  allows  his  hau-  to  fall  about  his  eyes  a  la  negligee, 
and  affects  a  reckless,  love-lorn  air. 

The  last  party  of  sight-seers  for  the  day  call  around  near  mid- 
night, some  time  after  I  have  retired  to  sleep  ;  thej'  awaken  me 
with  their  garrulous  observations  concerning  the  bicycle,  which 
they  are  critically  examining  close  to  my  head  with  a  classic 
lamp ;  but  I  readily  forgive  them  their  nocturnal  intrusion,  since 
they  awaken  me  to  the  first  opportunity  of  hearing  women  wailing 
for  the  dead.  A  dozen  or  so  of  women  are  waUing  forth  their 
lamentations  in  the  silent  night  but  a  short  distance  from  the 
khan  ;  I  can  look  out  of  a  small  opening  in  the  wall  near  my  shake- 
down, and  see  them  moving  about  the  house  and  premises  by  the 
flickering  glare  of  torches.  I  could  never  have  believed  the  female 
form  divine  capable  of  producing  such  doleful,  unearthly  music  ; 
but  there  is  no  telling  what  these  shrouded  forms  are  really  capa- 
ble of  doing,  since  the  opportunity  of  passing  one's  judgment 
upon  their  accomplishments  is   confined  solely  to  an  occasional 


314  FROM   SAN   PRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

glimpse  of  a  languishing  eye.  The  Icahvay-jee,  who  is  acting  the 
part  of  explanatory  lecturer  to  these  nocturnal  visitors,  explains 
the  meaning  of  the  wailing  by  pantomimically  describing  a  corpse, 
and  then  goes  on  to  explain  that  the  smallest  imaginable  proportion 
of  the  lamentations  that  are  making  night  hideous  is  genuine 
grief  for  the  departed,  most  of  the  uproar  being  made  by  a  body 
of  professional  mourners  hired  for  the  occasion.  When  I  awake 
in  the  morning  the  unearthly  wailing  is  still  going  vigorously  for- 
ward, from  which  I  infer  they  have  been  keeping  it  up  all  night. 
Though  gradually  becoming  inured  to  all  sorts  of  strange  scenes 
and  customs,  the  united  wailing  and  lamentations  of  a  houseful  of 
women,  awakening  the  echoes  of  the  silent  night,  savor  too  much 
of  things  supernatural  and  unearthly  not  to  jar  unpleasantly  on 
the  senses  ;  the  custom  is,  however,  on  the  eve  of  being  relegated 
to  the  musty  past  by  the  Ottoman  Government. 

In  the  larger  cities  where  there  are  corpses  to  be  wailed  over 
every  night,  it  has  been  found  so  objectionable  to  the  expanding 
intellects  of  the  more  ealightened  Turks  that  it  has  been  pro- 
hibited as  a  public  nuisance,  and  these  days  it  is  only  in  such  con- 
servative Ulterior  towns  as  Bey  Bazaar  that  the  custom  still  obtains. 

When  about  starting  early  on  the  following  morning  the  khan- 
jee  begs  me  to  be  seated,  and  then  several  men  who  have  been 
waiting  around  since  before  daybreak  vanish  hastily  through  the 
door-way  ;  in  a  few  minutes  I  am  favored  with  a  small  company  of 
leading  citizens  who,  having  for  various  reasons  failed  to  swell 
yesterday's  throng,  have  taken  the  precaution  to  post  these  mes- 
sengers to  watch  my  movements  and  report  when  I  am  ready  to 
depart.  Our  grunting  patient,  the  crazy  man,  likewise  reappears 
upon  the  scene  of  my  departure  from  the  khan,  and,  in  company 
with  a  small  but  eminently  respectable  following,  accompanies  me 
to  the  brow  of  a  bluffy  hill  leading  out  of  the  depression  iu  which 
Bey  Bazaar  snugly  nestles.  On  the  way  uj)  he  constantly  gives 
utterance  to  his  feelings  in  guttural  gruntings  that  make  last 
night's  lamentations  seem  quite  earthly  after  all  in  comparison  ; 
and  when  the  summit  is  reached,  and  I  mount  and  glide  noiselessly 
away  down  a  gentle  declivity,  he  uses  his  vocal  organs  in  a  manner 
that  simply  defies  chirographical  description  or  any  known  com- 
parison ;  it  is  the  despairing  howl  of  a  semi-lunatic  at  witnessing 
my  departure  without  having  exercised  my  supposed  extraordinai'y 
powers  in  some  miraculous  manner  in  his  behalf. 


BEY   BAZAAi;,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  315 

The  road  continues  as  an  artificial  bigliway,  but  is  not  continu- 
ously ridable,  owing  to  the  rocky  nature  of  the  material  used  in  its 
construction  and  the  absence  of  vehicular  traffic  to  wear  it  smooth  ; 
but  it  is  highly  accei^table  in  the  main.  From  Bey  Bazaar  east- 
ward it  leads  for  several  miles  along  a  stony  valley,  and  then 
through  a  region  that  differs  little  from  yesterday's  barren  hills  in 
general  appearance,  but  which  has  the  redeeming  feature  of  being 
traversed  here  and  there  by  deep  cailons  or  gorges,  along  which 
meander  tiny  streams,  and  whose  wider  spaces  are  areas  of  remark- 
ably fertile  soil.  While  wheeling  merrily  along  the  valley  road  I 
am  favored  with  a  "  peace-offering  "  of  a  splendid  bunch  of  grapes 
from  a  bold  vintager  en  route  to  Bey  Bazaar  with  a  grape-laden 
donkej'.  When  within  a  few  hundred  yards  the  man  evinces  un- 
mistakable signs  of  uneasiness  concerning  my  character,  and 
would  probably  follow  the  bent  of  his  inclinations  and  ingloriously 
flee  the  field,  but  his  donkey  is  too  heavily  laden  to  accompany 
him  ;  he  looks  apprehensively  at  my  rapidly  apisroaching  figui-e, 
and  then,  as  if  a  happy  thought  suddenly  occurs  to  him,  he  quickly 
takes  the  finest  bunch  of  grapes  ready  to  hand  and  holds  them  out 
toward  me  while  I  am  yet  a  good  fifty  yards  away.  •  The  grapes 
are  luscious,  and  the  bunch  weighs  fully  an  oke,  but  I  should  feel 
uncomfortably  like  a  highwayman,  guilty  of  intimidating  the  man 
out  of  his  property,  were  I  to  accept  them  in  the  spirit  in  which 
they  are  offered  ;  as  it  is,  the  honest  fellow  will  hardly  fall  to 
trembling  in  his  tracks  should  he  at  any  future  time  again  descry 
the  centaur-like  form  of  a  mounted  wheelman  approaching  him  in 
the  distance. 

Later  in  the  forenoon  I  descend  into  a  canon-like  valley  where, 
among  a  few  scattering  vineyards  and  jujube-trees,  nestles  Ayash, 
a  place  which  disputes  with  the  neighboring  village  of  Istanos  the 
honor  of  being  the  theatre  of  Alexander  the  Great's  celebrated  ex- 
jjloit  of  cutting  the  Gordiau  knot  that  disentangled  the  harness  of 
the  Phiygian  king.  Ayash  is  to  be  congratulated  upon  having  its 
historical  reminiscence  to  recommend  it  to  the  notice  of  the  outer 
world,  since  it  has  little  to  attract  attention  nowadays  ;  it  is 
merely  the  shapeless  jumble  of  inferior  dwellings  that  characterize 
the  average  Turkish  village.  As  I  trundle  through  the  crooked,  ill- 
paved  alley-way  that,  out  of  respect  to  the  historical  association 
referred  to,  may  be  called  its  business  thoroughfare,  with  fore- 
thou"-bt  of  the  near  approach  of  noon  I  obtain  some  pears,  and 


316  FROM   SAW    FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

hand  an  ekmeh-jee  a  coin  for  some  bread  ;  lie  passes  over  a  tougli 
flat  cake,  abundantly  sufficient  for  my  purpose,  together  with  the 
change.  A  zwptieh,  looking  on,  observes  that  the  man  has  retained 
a  whole  half-penny  for  the  bread,  and  orders  him  to  fork  over  an- 
other cake  ;  I  refuse  to  take  it  up,  whereupon  the  zaptieh  fulfils  his 
ideas  of  justice  by  ordering  the  ekmek-jae  to  give  it  to  a  ragged 
youth  among  the  spectators. 

Continuing  on  my  way  I  am  next  halted  by  a  young  man  of  the 
better  class,  who,  together  with  the  zaptieh,  endeavors  to  prevail 
upon  me  to  stop,  going  through  the  pantomime  of  writing  and 
reading,  to  express  some  idea  that  our  mutual  ignorance  of  each 
other's  language  prevents  being  expressed  in  words.  The  result  is 
a  rather  curious  intermezzo.  Thinking  they  want  to  examine  myi 
teskeri  merely  to  gratify  their  idle  curiosity,  I  refuse  to  be  thus 
bothered,  and,  dismissing  them  quite  brusquely,  hurry  along  over 
the  rough  cobble-stones  in  hopes  of  reaching  ridable  ground  and 
escaping  from  the  place  ere  the  inevitable  "  madding  crowd "  be- 
come generally  aware  of  my  arrival.  The  young  man  disappears, 
while  the  zaptieh  trots  smilingly  but  determinedly  by  my  side, 
several  times  endeavoring  to  coax  me  into  making  a  halt ;  which  is, 
however,  promptly  interpreted  by  myself  into  a  paternal  plea  on  be- 
half of  the  villagers — a  desire  to  have  me  stop  until  they  could  be 
generally  notified  and  collected — the  veiy  thing  I  am  hurrying  along 
to  avoid.  I  am  already  clear  of  the  village  and  trundling  up  the 
inevitable  acclivity,  the  zaptieh  and  a  small  gathering  still  doggedly 
hanging  on,  when  the  young  man  reappears,  hurriedly  approaching 
from  the  rear,  followed  by  half  the  village.  The  zaptieh  pats  me 
on  the  shoulder  and  points  back  with  a  triumphant  smile  ;  thinking- 
he  is  referring  to  the  rabble,  I  am  rather  inclined  to  be  angry  with 
him  and  chide  him  for  dogging  my  footsteps,  when  I  observe  the 
young  man  waving  aloft  a  letter,  and  at  once  understand  that  I 
have  been  guilty  of  an  ungenerous  misinterpretation  of  their  de- 
termined attentions,  The  letter  is  from  Mr.  Binns,  an  English 
gentleman  at  Angora,  engaged  in  the  exportation  of  mohair,  and 
contains  an  invitation  to  become  his  guest  while  at  Angora.  A 
well-deserved  backsheesh  to  the  good-natured  zaptieh  and  a  peni- 
tential shake  of  the  yotiug  man's  hand  silence  the  self-accusations 
of  a  guilty  conscience,  and,  after  riding  a  short  distance  dovm  the 
hill  for  the  satisfaction  of  the  people,  I  continue  on  my  way,  trundl- 
ing up  the  varying  gradations  of  a  general  acclivity  for  two  miles. 


BEY   BAZAAB,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  317 

Away  up  the  road  ahead  I  now  observe  a  number  of  queer, 
sliapeless  objects,  moving  about  on  the  roadway,  apparently  de- 
scending the  hill,  and  resembling  nothing  so  much  as  animated 
clumps  of  brushwood.  Upon  a  closer  approach  they  turn  out  ta 
be  not  so  very  far  removed  from  this  conception  ;  they  are  a  com- 
pany of  poor  Ayash  peasant-women,  each  carrying  a  bundle  oi 
camel-thorn  shrubs  several  times  larger  than  herself,  which  they 
have  been  scouring  the  neighboring  hills  all  morning  to  obtain  for 
fuel.  This  camel-thorn  is  a  light,  spriggy  shrub,  so  that  the  size 
of  their  burthens  is  lai-ge  in  proportion  to  its  weight.  Instead  of 
being  borne  on  the  head,  they  are  carried  in  a  way  that  forms  a 
complete  bushy  backgTOund,  against  which  the  shrouded  form  of 
the  woman  is  undistinguishable  a  few  hundred  yards  away.  In- 
stead of  keeping  a  straightforward  course,  the  women  seem  to  be 
doing  an  unnecessary  amount  of  erratic  wandering  about  over  the 
road,  which,  until  quite  near,  gives  them  the  queer  appearance  of 
animated  clumps  of  brush  dodging  aboiit  among  each  other.  I 
ask  them  whether  there  is  water  ahead  ;  they  look  frightened  and 
hurry  along  faster,  but  one  brave  soul  turns  partly  round  and 
points  mutely  in  the  direction  I  am  going.  Two  miles-  of  good, 
ridable  road  now  brings  me  to  the  spring,  which  is  situated  near  a 
two-acre  swamp  of  rank  sword-grass  and  bulrushes  six  feet  high 
and  of  almost  inpenetrable  thickness,  which  looks  decidedly  re- 
freshing in  its  setting  of  barren,  gray  hills  ;  and  I  eat  my  noon- 
tide meal  of  bread  and  pears  to  the  cheerj'  music  of  a  thousand 
swamp-frog  bands  which  commence  croaking  at  my  approach,  and 
never  cease  for  a  moment  to  twang  their  tuneful  lyre  until  I  de- 
part. 

The  tortuous  windings  of  the  chemin  de  fer  finally  bring  me 
to  a  cul-de-sac  in  the  hills,  terminating  on  the  summit  of  a  ridge 
overlooking  a  broad  plain  ;  and  a  horseman  I  meet  informs  me  that 
I  am  now  midway  between  Bey  Bazaar  and  Angora.  While  ascend- 
in"'  this  ridge  I  become  thoroughly  convinced  of  what  has  fre- 
quently occui-red  to  me  between  here  and  Nalikhan — that  if  the 
road  I  am  traversing  is,  as  the  people  keep  calling  it,  a  chemiA 
de  fer,  then  the  engineer  who  graded  it  must  have  been  a  youth 
of  tender  age,  and  inexperienced  in  railway  matters,  to  imagine 
that  trains  can  ever  round  his  cui-ve  or  eUmb  his  grades.  There 
is  something  about  this  broad,  artificial  highway,  and  the  tremen- 
dous amount  of  labor  that  has  been  expended  upon  it,  when  com- 


318  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

pared  with  the  glaring  poverty  of  the  country  it  traverses,  together 
with  the  wellnigh  total  absence  of  wheeled  vehicles,  that  seem  to 
preclude  the  possibility  of  its  having  been  made  for  a  wagon-road  ; 
and  yet,  notwithstanding  the  belief  of  the  natives,  it  is  evident 
that  it  can  never  be  the  road-bed  of  a  railway.  We  must  inquire 
about  it  at  Angora. 

Descending  into  the  Angora  Plain,  I  enjoy  the  luxury  of  a  con- 
tinuous coast  for  nearly  a  mile,  over  a  road  that  is  simply  perfect 
for  the  occasion,  after  which  comes  the  less  desirable  performance 
of  ploughing  through  a  stretch  of  loose  sand  and  gravel.  While 
engaged  in  this  latter  occupation  I  overtake  a  zaptieh,  also  en  route 
to  Angora,  who  is  letting  his  horse  crawl  leisurely  along  while  he 
concentrates  his  energies  upon  a  water-melon,  evidently  the  spoils 
of  a  recent  visitation  to  a  melon-garden  somewhere  not  far  off ;  he 
hands  me  a  portion  of  the  booty,  and  then  requests  me  to  bin,  and 
keeps  on  requesting  me  to  bin  at  regular  three-minute  intervals  for 
the  next  half-hour.  At  the  end  of  that  time  the  loose  gravel  ter- 
minates, and  I  find  myself  on  a  level  and  reasonably  smooth  dirt- 
road,  making  a  shorter  cut  across  the  plain  to  Angora  than  the 
chemin  de  fer.  The  zaptieh  is,  of  course,  delighted  at  seeing  me 
thus  mount,  and  not  doubting  but  that  I  will  appreciate  his  com- 
pany, gives  me  to  understand  that  he  will  ride  alongside  to  Angora. 
For  nearly  two  miles  that  sanguine  but  unsuspecting  minion  of  the 
Turkish  Government  spurs  his  noble  steed  alongside  the  bicycle 
in  spite  of  my  determined  pedalling  to  shake  him  off ;  but  the  road 
improves  ;  faster  spins  the  whirling  wheels  ;  the  zaptieh  begins  to 
lag  behind  a  little,  though  still  spurring  his  panting  horse  into 
keeping  reasonably  close  behind  ;  a  bend  now  occurs  in  the  road, 
and  an  intervening  knoll  hides  us  from  each  other  ;  I  put  on  more 
steam,  and  at  the  same  time  the  zaptieh  evidently  gives  it  up  and 
relapses  into  his  normal  crawling  pace,  for  when  three  miles  or 
thereabout  are  covered  I  look  back  and  perceive  him  leisurely 
heaving  in  sight  from  behind  the  knoll. 

Part  way  across  the  plain  I  arrive  at  a  fountain  and  make  a,short 
halt,  for  the  day  is  unpleasantly  warm,  and  the  dirt -road  is  covered 
with  dust ;  the  government  postaya  araha  is  also  halting  here  to  rest 
and  refresh  the  horses.  I  have  not  failed  to  notice  the  proneness 
of  Asiatics  to  base  their  conclusions  entirely  on  a  person's  apparel 
and  general  outward  appearance,  for  the  seeming  incongruity  of  my 
"  Ingilis  "  helmet  and  the  Circassian  moccasins  has  puzzled  them  not 


BEY   BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD. 


519 


a  little  on  more  than  one  occasion.  Aud  now  one  wiseacre  among 
this  pai-ty  at  the  road-side  fountain  stubbornly  asserts  that  I  can- 
not possibly  be  an  Englishman  because  of  my  wearing  a  mustache 


Racing  with  the  Zaptieh. 


•without  side  whiskers — a  feature  that  seems  to  have  impressed 
upon  his  enlightened  mind  the  unalterable  conviction  that  I  am  an 
"  Austrian  ; "  why  an  Austrian  any  more  than  a  Frenchman  or  an 
inhabitant  of  the  moon,  I  wonder?  and  wondering,  wonder  in  vain. 


320  PEOM  SAW  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERATJ-. 

Five  P.M.,  August  16, 1885,  finds  me  seated  on  a  rude  stone  slab, 
one  of  those  ancient  tombstones  whose  serried  ranks  constitute  the 
suburban  scenery  of  Angora,  ruefully  disburdening  my  nether  gar- 
ments of  mud  and  water,  the  results  of  a  slight  miscalculation  of 
my  abilities,  at  leaping  irrigating  ditches  with  the  bicycle  for  a 
TaultiQg-pole.  "While  engaged  in  this  absorbing  occupation  several 
inquisitives  mysteriously  collect  from  somewhere,  as  they  invai'ia- 
bly  do  whenever  I  happen  to  halt  for  a  minute,  and  following  the 
instructions  of  the  Ayash  letter  I  inquire  the  way  to  the  "  IngDisin 
Adam  "  (Englishman's  man).  They  pilot  me  through  a  number  of 
narrow,  ill-paved  streets  leading  up  the  sloping  hill  which  Angora 
occupies — a  situation  that  gives  the  supposed  ancient  capital  of 
Galatia  a  striking  appearance  from  a  distance — and  into  the  prem- 
ises of  an  Armenian  whom  I  find  able  to  make  himself  intelligible 
in  English,  if  allowed  several  minutes  undisturbed  possession  of  his 
own  faculties  of  recollection  between  each  word — the  gentleman  is 
slow  but  not  quite  sure.  Prom  him  I  learn  that  Mr.  Binns  and 
family  reside  during  the  summer  months  at  a  vineyard  five  miles 
out,  and  that  Mr.  Binns  will  not  be  in  town  before  to-morrow 
morning;  also  that,  "You  are  welcome  to  the  humble  hospitality 
of  our  poor  family." 

This  latter  way  of  expressing  it  is  a  revelation  to  me,  and  the 
leaden-heeled  and  labored  utterance,  together  with  the  general 
bearing  of  my  volunteer  host,  is  not  less  striking ;  if  meekness, 
lowliness,  and  humbleness,  permeating  a  person's  every  look,  word, 
and  action,  constitute  worthiness,  then  is  our  Armenian  friend  be- 
yond a  doubt  the  worthiest  of  men.  Laboring  under  the  impres- 
sion that  he  is  Mr.  Binns'  "  Ingihsin  Adam,"  I  have  no  hesitation 
about  accepting  his  profiiered  hospitality  for  the  night ;  and  storing 
the  bicycle  away,  I  proceed  to  make  myself  quite  at  home,  in  that 
easy  manner  peculiar  to  one  accustomed  to  constant  change.  Later 
in  the  evening  imagine  my  astonishment  at  learning  that  I  have 
thus  nonchalantly  quartered  myself,  so  to  speak,  not  on  Mr.  Binns' 
man,  but  on  an  Armenian  pastor  who  has  acquired  his  slight  ac- 
quaintance with  my  own  language  from  being  connected  mth  the 
American  Mission  having  headquarters  at  Kaisarieh ! 

AU  the  evening  long,  noisy  crowds'  have  been  besieging  the 
pastorate,  worrying  the  poor  man  nearly  out  of  his  senses  oji 
my  account ;  and  what  makes  matters  more  annoying  and  lament- 
able, I  learn  afterward  that  his  wife  has  departed  this  life  but 


BEY   BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  321 

a  sliort  time  ago,  and  the  bereaved  pastor  is  still  bowed  down 
with  sorrow  at  the  affliction — I  feel  like  kicking  myself  unceremo- 
niously out  of  his  house.  Following  the  Asiatic  custom  of  wel- 
coming a  stranger,  and  influenced,  we  may  reasonably  suppose,  as 
much  by  their  eagerness  to  satisfy  their  consuming  curiosity  as  any- 
thing else,  the  people  come  flocking  in  swarms  to  the  pastorate 
again  next  morning,  filling  the  house  and  grounds  to  overflowing, 
and  endeavoring  to  find  out  all  about  me  and  my  unheard-of  mode 
of  travelling,  by  questioning  the  poor  pastor  nearly  to  distrac- 
tion. That  excellent  man's  thoughts  seem  to  run  entirely  on  mis- 
sionaries and  mission  enterprises ;  so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  sev- 
eral negative  assertions  from  me  fail  to  entirely  disabuse  his  mind 
of  an  idea  that  I  am  in  some  way  connected  with  the  work  of 
spreading  the  Gospel  in  Asia  Minor ;  and  coming  into  the  I'oom 
where  I  am  engaged  in  the  interesting  occupation  of  returning  the 
salaams  and  inquisitive  gaze  of  fifty  ceremonious  visitors,  in  slow, 
measured  words  he  asks,  "  Have  you  any  words  for  these  people  ?  " 
as  if  quite  expecting  to  see  me  rise  up  and  solemnly  call  upon  the 
assembled  Mussulmans,  Greeks,  and  Armenians  to  forsake  the  re- 
lirrion  of  the  False  Prophet  in  the  one  case,  and  mend  the  error 
of  their  ways  in  the  other.  I  know  well  enough  what  they  all 
want,  though,  and  dismiss  them  in  a  highly  satisfactory  manner  by 
promising  them  that  they  shall  all  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing 
the  bicycle  ridden  before  I  leave  Angora, 

About  ten  o'clock  Mr.  Binns  arrives,  and  is  highly  amused  at  the 
ludicrous  mistake  that  brought  me  to  the  Armenian  pastor's  instead 
of  to  his  man,  with  whom  he  had  left  instructions  concerning  me, 
should  I  arrive  after  his  departm-e  in  the  evening  for  the  vineyard ; 
in  return  he  has  an  amusing  story  to  tell  of  the  people  waylaying 
him  on  his  way  to  his  office,  telling  him  that  an  Englishman  had 
arrived  with  ai  wonderful  araha,  which  he  had  immediately  locked 
up  in  a  dark  room  and  would  allow  nobody  to  look  at  it,  and  beg- 
ging him  to  ask  me  if  they  might  come  and  see  it.  "VVe  spend  the 
remainder  of  the  forenoon  looking  over  the  town  and  the  bazaar, 
Mr.  Binns  kindly  announcing  himself  as  at  my  service  for  the  day, 
and  seemingly  bent  on  pointing  out  everything  of  interest. 

One  of  the  most  curious  sights,  and  one  that  is  peculiai-  to  An- 
gora, owing  to  its  situation  on  a  hill  where  Uttle  or  no  water  is 
obtainable,  is  the  bewildering  swarms  of  su-katirs  (water  donkeys) 
engaged  in  the  transportation  of  that  important  necessai-y  up  into 
31 


322 


FJiOM    SAN    FEANCISCO    TO    TEHERAN. 


the  city  from  a  stream  that  flows  near  the  base  of  the  hill.  These 
unhappy  animals  do  nothing  from  one  end  of  their  working  Uvea 
to  the  other  but  toil,  with  almost  machine-like  regularity  and  un- 
eventfulness,  up  the  crooked,  stony  streets  with  a  dozen  large 
eartheu-ware  jars  of  water,  and  down  again  with  the  empty  jars. 
The  donkey  is  sandwiched  between  two  long  wooden  troughs  sus- 
pended to  a  rude  pack-saddle,  and  each  trough  accommodates  six 
jars,  each  holding  about  two  gallons  of  water ;  one  can  readily  im- 
agine the  swarms  of  these  novel  and  primitive  conveyances  required 


Angora  Water-works. 


to  supply  a  population  of  thirty-five  thousand  people.  Upon  in- 
quiring what  they  do  in  case  of  a  fire,  I  learn  that  they  don't  even 
think  of  fighting  the  devouring  element  with  its  natural  enemy, 
but,  collecting  on  the  adjoining  roofs,  they  smother  the  flames 
by  pelting  the  burning  building  with  the  soft,  crumbly  bricks  of 
which  Angora  is  chiefly  built ;  a  house  on  fire,  with  a  swarm  of 
half-naked  natives  on  the  neighboring  housetops  bombarding  the 
leaping  flames  with  bricks,  would  certainly  be  an  interesting 
sight. 


BEY   BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  323 

Other  pity-exciting  scenes  besides  the  patient  Httle  water-carry- 
ing donkeys  are  not  likely  to  be  wanting  on  the  streets  of  an  Asiatic 
city ;  one  case  I  notice  merits  particular  mention.  A  ji'outh  with 
both  arms  amputated  at  the  shoulder,  having  not  so  much  as  the 
stump  of  an  arm,  is  riding  a  donkey,  and  persuading  the  unwilling 
animal  along  quite  briskly— with  a  stick.  All  Christendom  could 
never  guess  how  a  person  thus  afflicted  could  possibly  wield  a  stick 
so  as  to  make  any  impression  upon  a  donkey  ;  but  this  ingenious 
person  holds  it  quite  handily  between  his  chin  and  right  shoulder, 
and  from  constant  practice  has  acquired  the  ability  to  visit  his 
long-eai-ed  steed  with  quite  vigorous  thwacks. 

Near  noon  we  repair  to  the  government  house  to  pay  a  visit  to 
Sirra  Pasha,  the  Vali  or  governor  of  the  vilaijet,  who,  having  heard 
of  my  arrival,  has  expressed  a  wish  to  have  us  call  on  him.  We 
happen  to  arrive  while  he  is  busily  engaged  with  an  important 
legal  decision,  but  upon  our  being  announced  he  begs  us  to  wait  a 
few  minutes,  promising  to  hurry  through  with  the  business.  "We 
are  then  requested  to  enter  an  adjoining  apartment,  where  we  find 
the  Mayor,  the  Cadi,  the  Secretary  of  State,  the  Chief  of  the  Angora 
zaptiehs,  and  several  other  functionaiies,  signing  documents,  affix- 
ing seals,  and  otherwise  variously  occupied.  At  our  entrance,  doc- 
uments, pens,  seals,  and  everything  are  relegated  to  temporary 
oblivion,  coffee  and  cigarettes  are  produced,  and  the  journey  dunia- 
nin-athrafana  (around  the  world)  I  am  making  with  the  wonderful 
araha  becomes  the  aU-absorbing  subject.  These  wise  men  of  state 
entertain  queer,  Asiatic  notions  concerning  the  probable  object  of 
my  journey ;  they  cannot  bring  themselves  to  beheve  it  possible 
that  I  am  performing  so  great  a  journey  "  merely  as  the  Outing 
correspondent ; "  they  think  it  more  probable,  they  say,  that  my 
real  incentive  is  to  "  spite  an  enemy  "—that,  having  quai-relled  with 
another  wheelman  about  our  comparative  skill  as  riders,  I  am 
wheeling  entirely  around  the  globe  in  order  to  prove  my  superior- 
ity, and  at  the  same  time  leave  no  opportunity  for  my  hated  rival 
to  perform  a  greater  feat — Asiatic  reasoning,  sure  enough  !  Eea- 
soning  thus,  and  commenting  in  this  wise  among  themselves,  their 
curiosity  becomes  worked  up  to  the  highest  possible  pitch,  and 
they  commence  plying  Mr.  Binns  with  questions  concerning  the 
mechanism  and  general  appeai'ance  of  the  bicycle.  To  faciUtate 
Ml'.  Binns  in  his  task  of  elucidation,  I  produce  from  my  inner  coat- 
pocket  a  set  of  the  earlier  sketches  illustrating  the  tour  across 


324  FEOM   SAN  FEANCISCO  TO  TEHERAK. 

America,  and  for  tlie  next  few  minutea  the  set  of  sketches  are  of 
more  importance  than  all  the  State  documents  in  the  room. 
Curiously  enough,  the  sketch  entitled  "A  Pair  Young  Mormon  " 
attracts  more  attention  than  any  of  the  others. 

The  Mayor  is  Suleiman  Effendi,  the  same  gentleman  mentioned 
at  some  length  by  Colonel  Burnaby  in  his  "  On  Horseback  Through 
Asia  Minor,''  and  one  of  his  first  questions  is  ■whether  I  am  ac- 
quainted with  "  my  friend  Burnaby,  whose  tragic  death  in  the  Sou- 
dan will  never  cease  to  make  me  feel  unhappy."  Suleiman  Effendi 
appears  to  be  remarkably  intelligent,  compared  with  many  Asiatics, 
and,  moreover,  of  quite  a  practical  turn  of  mind  ;  he  inquires  what 
I  should  do  in  case  of  a  serious  break-down  somewhere  in  the  far 
interior,  and  his  curiosity  to  see  the  bicycle  is  not  a  little  increased 
by  hearing  that,  notwithstanding  the  extreme  airiness  of  my  strange 
vehicle,  I  have  had  no  serious  mishap  on  the  whole  journey  across 
two  continents.  Alluding  to  the  bicycle  as  the  latest  product  of 
that  Western  ingenuity  that  appears  so  marvellous  to  the  Asiatic 
mind,  he  then  remarks,  with  some  animation,  "The  next  thing  we 
shall  see  will  be  Englishmen  crossing  over  to  India  in  balloons, 
and  dropping  down  at  Angora  for  refreshments." 

A  uniformed  servant  now  announces  that  the  Vali  is  at  liberty, 
and  waiting  to  receive  us  in  private  audience.  Following  the  at- 
tendant into  another  room,  we  find  Sirra  Pasha  seated  on  a  richly 
cushioned  divan,  and  upon  our  entrance  he-iises  smilingly  to  receive 
us,  shaking  us  both  cordially  by  the  hand.  As  the  distinguished 
visitor  of  the  occasion,  I  am  appointed  to  the  place  of  honor  next 
to  the  governor,  while  Mr.  Binns,  with  whom,  of  course,  as  a  resi- 
dent of  Angora,  His  Excellency  is  already  quite  well  acquainted, 
graciously  fills  the  office  of  interpreter,  and  enlightener  of  the 
Vali's  understanding  concerning  bicycles  in  general,  and  my  own 
wheel  and  wheel  journey  in  particular.  Sirra  Pasha  is  a  full-faced 
jnan  of  medium  height,  black-eyed,  black-haired,  and,  like  nearly 
all  Turkish  pashas,  is  rather  inclined  to  corpulencj-.  Like  many 
pronainent  Turkish  officials,  he  has  discarded  the  Turkish  costume, 
retaining  only  the  national  fez  ;  a  head-dress  which,  by  the  by,  is 
without  one  single  merit  to  recommend  it  save  its  picturesqueness. 
In  sunny  weather  it  affords  no  protection  to  the  eyes,  and  in  rainy 
weather  its  contour  conducts  the  water  in  a  trickling  stream  down 
one's  spinal  column.  It  is  too  thin  to  protect  the  scalp  from  the 
fierce  sun-rays,  and  too  close-fitting  and  close  in  texture  to  afford 


BEY    BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND    EASTWARD.  325 

any  ventilation,  yet  -with  all  this  formidable  array  of  disadvantages 
it  is  universally  worn. 

I  have  learned  during  the  morning  that  I  have  to  thank  Sirra 
Pasha's  energetic  administration  for  the  artificial  highway  from 
Keshtobek,  and  that  he  has  constructed  in  the  vilayet  no  less  than 
two  hundred  and  fifty  miles  of  this  highway,  broad  and  reasonably 
well  made,  and  actually  macadamized  in  localities  where  the  neces- 
sary material  is  to  be  obtained.  The  amount  of  work  done  in  con- 
structing this  road  through  so  mountainous  a  country  is,  as  before 
mentioned,  plainly  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  wealth  and  popula- 
tion of  a  second-grade  vilayet  like  Angora,  and  its  accomplishment 
has  been  possible  only  by  the  employment  of  forced  labor.  Every 
man  in  the  whole  vilayet  is  ordered  out  to  work  at  the  road-making 
a  certain  number  of  days  every  year,  or  provide  a  substitute ;  thus, 
during  the  present  summer  there  have  been  as  many  as  twent}^  thou- 
sand men,  besides  donkej's,  working  on  the  roads  at  one  time.  Un- 
accustomed to  public  improvements  of  this  nature,  and,  no  doubt, 
failing  to  see  their  advantages  in  a  country  practically  without  ve- 
hicles, the  people  have  sometimes  ventured  to  grumble  at  the  rather 
ai'bitrary  proceeding  of  making  them  work  for  nothing,  and  board 
themselves  ;  and  it  has  been  found  expedient  to  make  them  believe 
that  they  were  doing  the  preliminary  grading  for  a  railway  that 
was  shortly  coming  to  make  them  all  prosperous  and  happy  ;  be- 
yond being  credulous  enough  to  swallow  the  latter  part  of  the  bait, 
few  of  them  have  the  least  idea  of  what  sort  of  a  looking  thing  a 
railroad  would  be. 

When  the  Vali  hears  that  the  people  all  along  the  road  have 
been  teUing  me  it  was  a  chemin  defer,  he  fairlj-  shakes  in  his  boots 
with  laughter.  Of  course  I  point  out  that  no  one  can  possibly  ap- 
preciate the  road  improvements  any  more  than  a  wheelman,  and 
explain  the  great  difference  I  have  found  between  the  mule-paths 
of  Kodjaili  and  the  broad  highways  he  has  made  through  Angora, 
and  I  promise  him  the  universal  good  opinion  of  the  whole  world 
of  'cyclers.  In  reply.  His  Excellency  hopes  this  favorable  opinion 
will  not  be  jeopardized  by  the  journey  to  Yuzgat,  but  expresses 
the  fear  that  I  shall  find  heavier  wheeling  in  that  direction,  as  the 
road  is  newly  made,  and  there  has  been  no  vehicular  ti-affie  to  pack 
it  down. 

The  Governor  invites  me  to  remain  over  until  Thursday  and 
witness  the  ceremony  of  laying  the  corner-stone  of  a  new  school,  of 


320  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

tlie  founding  of  which  he  has  good  reason  to  feel  proud,  and  which 
ought  to  secure  him  the  esteem  of  right-thinking  people  every- 
where. He  has  determined  it  to  be  a  common  school  in  which  no 
question  of  Mohammedan,  Jew,  or  Christian,  will  be  allowed  to  en- 
ter, but  where  the  young  ideas  of  Turkish,  Christian,  and  Jewish 
youths  shall  be  taught  to  shoot  peacefully  and  harmoniously  to- 
gether. Begging  to  be  excused  from  this,  he  then  invites  me  to 
take  dinner  with  him  to-morrow  evening ;  but  this  I  also  decline, 
excusing  myself  for  having  determined  to  remain  over  no  longer 
than  a  day  on  account  of  the  approaching  rainy  season  and  my 
anxiety  to  reach  Teheran  before  it  sets  in.  Yet  a  third  time  the 
pasha  rallies  to  the  charge,  as  though  determined  not  to  let  me  off 
without  honoring  me  in  some  way  ;  and  this  time  he  offers  to  fur- 
nish me  a  zaptieh  escort,  but  I  tell  hitn  of  the  zaptieh's  inability  to 
keep  up  yesterday,  at  which  he  is  immensely  amused.  His  Excel- 
lency then  promises  to  be  present  at  the  starting-point  to-morrow 
morning,  asking  me  to  name  the  time  and  place,  after  which  we 
finish  the  cigarettes  and  coffee  and  take  our  leave. 

"We  next  take  a  survey  of  the  mohair  caravansary,  where  buyers 
and  sellers  and  exporters  congregate  to  transact  business,  and  I 
watch  with  some  interest  the  corps  of  half-naked  sorters  seated 
before  large  heaps  of  mohair,  assorting  it  into  the  several  classes 
ready  for  exportation.  Here  Mr.  Binns'  ofSce  is  situated,  and 
we  are  waited  upon  by  several  of  his  business  acquaintances  ;  among 
them  a  member  of  the  celebrated — celebrated  in  Asia  Minor — Tif- 
ticjeeoghlou  family,  whose  ancestors  have  been  prominently  engaged 
in  the  mohair  business  for  so  long  that  their  very  name  is  significa- 
tory  of  their  profession — Tifticjee-oghlou,  literally,  "Mohair-dealer's 
son."  The  Smiths,  Bakers,  and  Hunters  of  Occidental  society  are 
not  a  whit  more  significative  than  are  many  prominent  names  of 
the  Orient.  Prominent  among  the  Angorians  is  a  certain  Mr.  Al- 
tentopoghlou,  the  literal  interpretation  of  which  is,  "  Son  of  the 
golden  ball,"  and  the  origin  of  whose  family  name  Eastern  ti-adition 
has  surrounded  by  the  following  little  interesting  anecdote  : 

Ages  ago  it  pleased  one  of  the  Sultans  to  issue  a  proclamation 
throughout  the  empire,  promising  to  present  a  golden  ball  to 
whichever  among  all  his  subjects  should  prove  himself  the  biggest 
liar,  giving  it  to  be  understood  beforehand  that  no  "  merely  irri- 
probable  story "  would  stand  the  ghost  of  a  chance  of  winning, 
since  he  himself  was  to  be  the  judge,  and  nothing  short  of  a  story 


BET   BAZAAR,    ANGOEA,    AND   EASTWAllD.  327 

that  was  simply  impossible  would  secure  tlie  prize.  The  procla- 
mation naturally  made  quite  a  stir  among  the  great  prevaricators 
of  the  realm,  and  hundreds  of-  stories  came  pouring  in  from  com- 
petitors everywhere,  some  even  surreptitiously  borrowing  "  whop- 
pers "  from  the  Persiatis,  who  are  well  known  as  the  greatest 
economizers  of  the  truth  in  all  Asia  ;  but  they  were  one  and  all  ad- 
judged by  the  astute  monarch — who  was  himself  a  most  experi- 
enced prevaricator — probably  the  noblest  Eoman  of  them  all — as 
containing  incidents  that  might  under  extraordinary  circumstances 
Lave  been  true.  The  coveted  golden  ball  still  remained  unawarded, 
when  one  day  there  appeared  before  the  gate  of  the  Sultan's 
palace,  requesting  an  audience,  an  old  man  with  travel-worn 
appearance,  as  though  from  a  long  pilgrimage,  and  bearing  on  his 
stooping  shoulders  an  immense  eai'tlieu-ware  jar.  The  Sultan  re- 
ceived the  aged  pilgrim  kindly,  and  asked  him  what  he  could  do 
for  him. 

"  Oh,  Sultan,  may  you  live  forever ! "  exclaimed  the  old  man, 
"  for  your  Imperial  Highness  is  loved  and  celebrated  throughout 
all  the  empire  for  your  many  virtues,  but  most  of  all  for  your  well- 
known  love  of  justice.'' 

"  Inshallah  !  "  replied  the  monarch,  reverently. 

"May  it  please  Your  Imperial  Majesty,"  continued  the  old  man, 
calling  the  monarch's  attention  to  the  jar,  "Tour  Highness'  most 
excellent  father — may  his  bones  rest  in  peace  ! — borrowed  from 
my  father  this  jar  full  of  gold  coins,  the  conditions  being  that 
Your  Majesty  was  to  pay  the  same  amount  back  to  me." 

"Absurd,  impossible  1 "  exclaimed  the  astonished  Sultan,  ey- 
ing the  huge  vessel  in  question. 

"If  the  story  be  tnie,"  gravely  continued  the  pilgrim,  "pay 
your  father's  debt ;  if  it  is  as  you  say,  impossible,  I  have  fairly  won 
the  golden  ball."  And  the  Sultan  immediately  awarded  him  the 
prize. 

In  the  cool  of  the  evening  we  ride  out  on  horseback  through 
vineyards  and  yellow-berry  gardens  to  Mi-.  Binns'  country  resi- 
dence, a  place  that  formerly  belonged  to  an  old  pasha,  a  veritable 
Bluebeard,  who  built  the  house  and  placed  the  windows  of  his 
harem,  even  closely  latticed  as  they  always  ai-e,  in  a  position  that 
would  not  command  so  much  as  a  glimpse  of  passers-by  on  the 
road,  hundreds  of  yards  away.  He  planted  trees  and  gardens,  and 
erected  marble  fountains  at  great  cost.     Surrounding  the  whole 


328  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

with  a  wall,  and  purchasing  three  beautiful  young  wives,  the  old 
Turk  fondly  fancied  he  had  created  for  himself  an  earthly  paradise  ; 
but  as  love  laughs  at  locksmiths,  so  did  these  three  frisky  dames 
laugh  at  latticed  windows,  and  lay  their  heads  together  against 
being  prevented  from  watching  passers-by  -through  the  windows  of 
the  harem.  With  nothing  else  to  do,  they  would  scheme  and  plot 
all  day  long  against  their  misguided  husband's  tranquillity  and 
peace  of  mind.  One  day,  while  sunning  himself  in  the  garden,  he 
discovered  that  they  had  managed  to  detach  a  section  of  the 
lattice-work  from  a  window,  and  were  in  the  habit  of  sticking  out 
their  heads — awful  discovery  !  Plying  into  a  righteous  rage  at 
this  act  of  flagrant  disobedience,  he  seized  a  thick  stick  and  sought 
their  apartments,  only  to  find  the  lattice-work  skilfullj'  replaced, 
and  to  be  confronted  with  a  general  denial  of  what  he  had  wit- 
nessed with  his  own  eyes.  This  did  not  prevent  them  from  all 
three  getting  a  severe  chastisement ;  but  as  time  wore  on  he 
found  the  life  these  three  caged-up  young  women  managed  to  lead 
him  anything  but  the  earthly  paradise  he  thought  he  was  creating, 
and,  financial  troubles  overtaking  him  at  the  same  time,  the  old 
fellow  fairly  died  of  a  broken  heart  in  less  than  twelve  mouths 
after  he  had  so  hopefully  installed  himself  in  his  self-created 
heaven. 

There  is  a  moral  in  the  story  somewhere,  I  think,  for  anybody 
caring  to  analyze  it.  Mr.  Binns  says  the  old  Mussulman  was  also 
au  inveterate  hater  of  unbelievers,  and  that  the  old  fellow's  bones 
would  fairly  rattle  in  his  coffin  were  he  conscious  that  a  family  of 
Christians  are  now  actually  occupying  the  house  he  built  with  such 
careful  regard  for  the  Mussulman's  ideas  of  a  material  heaven,  with 
trees  and  fountains  and  black-ej'ed  hoviris. 

Near  ten  o'clock  on  Tuesday  morning  finds  Angora  the  scene 
of  more  excitement  than  it  has  seen  for  some  time.  I  am  trundl- 
ing through  the  narrow  streets  toward  the  appointed  starting- 
place,  which  is  at  the  commencement  of  a  half-mile  stretch  of  ex- 
cellent level  macadam,  just  beyond  the  tombstone-planted  suburbs 
of  the  city.  Mr.  Binns  is  with  me,  and  a  squad  of  zaptiehs  are  en- 
gaged in  the  lively  occupation  of  protecting  us  from  the  crush  of 
people  following  us  out ;  they  are  armed  especially  for  the  occa- 
sion with  long  switches,  with  which  they  unsparingly  lay  about 
tbem,  seemingly  only  too  delighted  at  the  chance  of  making  the 
dust  fly  from  the  shoulders  of  such  unfortunate  wights  as  the 


BEY    BAZAAU,    ANGOEA,    AND    EASTWAIID.  329 

pressure  of  the  throng  forces  anywhere  near  the  magic  cause  of  the 
commotion.  The  time  and  place  of  starting  have  been  proclaimed 
by  the  Vali  and  have  become  generally  noised  abroad,  and  near 
thi-ee  thousand  people  ai-e  already  assembled  when  we  arrive ; 
among  them  is  seen  the  genial  face  of  Suleiman  Effendi,  who,  in  his 
capacity  of  mayor,  is  early  on  the  ground  with  a  force  of  zaptiehs 
to  maintain  order ;  and  with  a  little  knot  of  friends,  behold,  is  also 
our  humble  friend  the  Armenian  pastor,  the  irresistible  attractions 
of  the  wicked  bicycle  having  temporaiily  overcome  his  contempt  of 
the  pomps  and  vanities  of  secular  displays. 

"  Englishmen  are  always  punctual ! "  saj's  Suleiman  Effendi,  look- 
ing at  his  watch  ;  and,  upon  consulting  our  own,  sure  euoiigh  we 
have  happened  to  arrive  precisely  to  the  minute.  An  individual 
named  Mustapha,  a  blacksmith  who  has  acqiiired  an  enviable  rep- 
utation for  skill  on  account  of  the  beautiful  horseshoes  he  turns 
out,  now  presents  himself  and  begs  leave  to  examine  the  mechan- 
ism of  the  bicycle,  and  the  question  arises  among  the  officers  stand- 
ing by  as  to  whether  Mustapha  would  be  able  to  make  one  ;  Mus- 
tapha himself  thinks  he  could,  providing  he  had  mine  always  at 
hand  to  cojDy  from. 

"Yes,"  suggests  the  practical-minded  Suleiman  Effendi,  "j'es, 
Mustapha,  you  may  have  marifet  enough  to  make  one ;  but  when 
you  have  finished  it,  who  among  all  of  us  wHL  have  mai-ifel  enough 
to  ride  it?" 

"True,  effendi,"  solemnly  assents  another,  "we  would  have  to 
send  for  an  Englishman  to  ride  it  for  us,  after  Mustapha  had 
turned  it  out ! " 

The  Mayor  now  requests  me  to  ride  along  the  road  once  or 
twice  to  appease  the  clamor  of  the  multitude  until  the  Vali  arrives. 
The  crowd  along  the  road  is  tremendous,  and  on  a  neighboring 
knoll,  commanding  a  view  of  the  proceedings,  are  several  carriage- 
loads  of  ladies,  the  wives  and  female  relatives  of  the  officials.  The 
Mayor  is  indulgent  to  his  people,  allowing  them  to  throng  the  road- 
way, simply  ordering  the  zaptiehs  to  keep  my  road  through  the  sm-g- 
inf  mass  open.  While  on  the  home-stretch  from  the  second  spin,  up 
dashes  the  Vali  in  the  state  equipage  with  quite  an  imposing  body- 
guard of  mounted  zaptiehs,  their  chief  being  a  fine  military-look- 
ing Circassian  in  the  picturesque  military  costume  of  the  Caucasus. 
These  horsemen  the  Governor  at  once  orders  to  clear  the  people 
entirely  off  the  road-way — an  order  no  sooner  given  than  executed  ; 


330  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

and  after  the  customary  interchange  of  salutations,  I  mount  and 
•wheel  briskly  up  the  broad,  smooth  macadam  between  two  compact 
masses  of  delighted  natives ;  excitement  runs  high,  and  the  people 
clap  their  hands  and  howl  approvingly  at  the  performance,  while 
the  horsemen  gallop  briskly  to  and  fro  to  keep  them  from  intrud- 
ing on  the  road  after  I  have  wheeled  past,  and  obstructing  the 
Governor's  view.  After  riding  back  and  forth  a  couple  of  times,  I 
dismount  at  the  Vali's  carriage ;  a  mutual  interchange  of  adieus 
and  well-wishes  aU  around,  and  I  take  my  departure,  wheeling 
along  at  a  ten-mile  pace  amid  the  vociferous  plaudits  of  at  least 
four  thousand  people,  who  watch  my  retreating  figure  until  I  dis- 
appear over  the  brow  of  a  hill.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  main 
crowd  are  stationed  the  "  irregular  cavalry  "  on  horses,  mules,  and 
donkeys  ;  and  among  the  latter  I  notice  our  ingenious  friend,  the 
armless  youth  of  yesterday,  whom  I  now  make  happy  by  a  nod  of 
recognition,  having  scraped  up  a  backsheesh  acquaintance  with  him 
yesterday. 

For  some  miles  the  way  continues  fairly  smooth  and  hard,  lead- 
ing through  a  region  of  low  vineyard-covered  hUls,  but  ere  long  I 
arrive  at  the  newly  made  road  mentioned  by  the  Vah. 

After  which,  like  the  course  of  true  love,  my  forward  career 
seldom  runs  smooth  for  any  length  of  time,  though  ridable  donkey- 
trails  occasionally  run  parallel  with  the  bogus  chemin  defer.  For 
mile  after  mile  I  now  alternately  ride  and  trundle  along  donkeys- 
paths,  by  the  side  of  an  artificial  highway  that  would  be  an  enter- 
prise worthy  of  a  European  State.  The  surface  of  the  road  is 
either  gravelled  or  of  broken  rock,  and  well  rounded  for  self-drain- 
age ;  it  is  graded  over  the  mountains,  and  wooden  bridges,  with 
substantial  rock  supports,  are  built  across  the  streams  ;  nothing  is 
lacking  except  the  vehicles  to  utilize  it.  In  the  absence  of  these 
it  would  almost  seem  to  have  been  an  unnecessary  and  superfluous 
expenditure  of  the  people's  labor  to  make  such  a  road  through  a 
country  most  of  which  is  fit  for  little  else  but  grazing  goats  and 
buffaloes.  Aside  from  some  half-dozen  can-iages  at  Angora,  and 
a  few  light  government  postaya  arabas — an  innovation  from  horses 
for  carrying  the  mail,  recently  introduced  as  a  result  of  the  im- 
proved roads,  and  which  make  weekly  trips  between  such  points 
as  Angora,  Yuzgat,  and  Tokat — the  only  vehicles  in  the  country 
are  the  buflfalo-carts  of  the  larger  farmers,  rude  home  made  arabas 
with  solid  wooden  wheels,  whose  infernal  creaking  can  be  heard 


BEY    BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  331 

for  a  mile,  and  which  they  seldom  take  any  distance  from  home, 
preferring  their  pack-donkeys  and  cross-couutry  trails  when  going 
to  town  with  produce.  Perhaps  in  time  vehicular  traffic  may  ap- 
peal- as  a  result  of  suitable  roads  ;  but  the  natives  are  slow  to  adopt 
new  improvements. 

About  two  hours  from  Angora  I  pass  through  a  swampy  upland 
basin,  containing  several  small  lakes,  and  then  emerge  into  a  much 
less  mountainous  countiy,  passing  several  mud  villages,  the  inhab- 
itants of  which  are  a  dark-skinned  people — Turkoman  refugees, 
I  think — who  look  several  degrees  less  particular  about  their 
personal  cleanliness  than  the  villagers  west  of  Angora.  Their 
wretched  mud  hovels  would  seem  to  indicate  the  last  degree  of 
poverty,  but  numerous  flocks  of  goats  and  herds  of  buffalo  graz- 
ing near  apparently  tell  a  somewhat  different  story.  The  women 
and  children  seem  mostly  engaged  in  manufacturing  cakes  of 
tezek  (large  flat  cakes  of  buffalo  manure  mixed  with  chopped  sti-aw, 
which  are  "dobbed"on  the  outer  walls  to  dry;  it  makes  very 
good  fuel,  like  the  "  buffalo  chips  "  of  the  far  West),  and  stacking  it 
up  on  the  house-tops,  with  provident  forethought,  for  the  approach- 
ing winter. 

Just  as  dai-kness  is  beginning  to  settle  down  over  the  landscape 
I  arrive  at  one  of  these  unpromising-looking  clusters,  which,  it 
seems,  are  now  peculiar  to  the  country',  and  not  characteristic  of 
any  particular  race,  for  the  one  I  arrive  at  is  a  purely  Turkish  vil- 
lage. After  the  usual  preliminaries  of  pantomime  and  binning,  I 
am  conducted  to  a  capacious  flat  roof,  the  common  covering  of 
several  dwellings  and  stables  bunched  up  together.  This  roof  is 
as  smooth  and  hard  as  a  native  threshing-floor,  and  well  knowing, 
from  recent  experiences,  the  modus  operandi  of  capturing  the  hearts 
of  these  bland  and  childlike  villagers,  I  mount  and  straightway 
secure  their  universal  admiration  and  applause  by  riding  a  few 
times  round  the  roof.  I  obtain  a  supper  of  fried  eggs  and  yaorl 
(milk  soured  with  rennet),  eating  it  on  the  house-top,  surrounded 
by  the  whole  population  of  the  village,  on  this  and  adjoining  roofs, 
who  watch  my  every  movement  with  the  most  intense  curiosity. 
It  is  the  raggedest  audience  I  have  yet  been  favored  with.  There 
are  not  over  half  a  dozen  decently  clad  people  among  them  all,  and 
two  of  these  are  horsemen,  simply  remaining  over  night,  like  my- 
self. Everybody  has  a  feai-fully  flea-bitten  appearance,  which 
augurs  ill  for  a  refreshing  night's  repose. 


332 


FROM  SAN  FKAWCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


Here,  likewise  I  am  first  introduced  to  a  peculiar  kind  of  bread, 
that  I  straightway  condemn  as  the  most  execrable  of  the  many  va- 
rieties my  everchanging  experiences  bring  me  iu  contact  with,  and 
which  I  find  myself  mentally,  and  half  unconsciously,  naming — 
"  blotting-paper  etmek  " — a  not  inappropriate  title  to  convey  its  ap- 


Genuine  Ekmek, 


pearance  to  the  civilized  mind ;  but  the  sheets  of  blotting-paper 
must  be  of  a  wheaten  color  and  in  circular  sheets  about  two  feet 
in  diameter.  This  peculiar  kind  of  bread  is,  we  may  suppose,  the 
natural  result  of  a  great  scarcity  of  fuel,  a  handful  of  tezek,  beneath 
the  large,  thin  sheet-iron  griddle,  being  sufficient  to  bake  many 


BEY   BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND   EASTWARD.  333 

cakes  of  this  bread.  At  first  I  start  eating  it  something  like  a 
Shantytown  goat  would  set  about  consuming  a  political  poster,  if 
it — not  the  political  poster,  but  the  Shantytown  goat — had  a  pair 
of  hands.  This  outlandish  performance  creates  no  small  merri- 
ment among  the  watchful  on-lookers,  who  forthwith  initiate  me 
into  the  mode  of  eating  it  d  la  Turque,  which  is,  to  roll  it  up  like 
a  scroU  of  paper  and  bite  mouthfuls  off  the  end.  I  afterwards  find 
this  pai-ticular  variety  of  ekmek  quite  handy  when  seated  around  a 
communal  bowl  of  yaort  with  a  dozen  natives  ;  instead  of  taking 
my  turn  with  the  one  wooden  spoon  in  common  use,  I  would  form 
pieces  of  the  thia  bread  into  small  handleless  scoops,  and,  dip- 
ping up  the  yaort,  eat  scoop  and  all.  Besides  sparing  me  from 
using  the  same  greasy  spoon  in  common  with  a  dozen  natives, 
none  of  them  overly  squeamish  as  regards  personal  cleanliness,  this 
gave  me  the  appreciable  advantage  of  dipjping  into  the  dish  as  often 
as  I  choose,  instead  of  waiting  for  my  regiilar  turn  at  the  wooden 
spoon. 

Though  they  are  Osmauli  Turks,  the  women  of  these  small  vil- 
lages appear  to  make  little  pretence  of  covering  their  faces.  Among 
themselves  they  constitute,  as  it  were,  one  large  family  gathering, 
and  a  stranger  is  but  seldom  seen.  They  are  apparently  simple- 
minded  females,  just  a  trifle  shame-faced  in  their  demeanor  before 
a  stranger,  sitting  apart  by  themselves  while  listening  to  the  con- 
versation between  myself  and  the  men.  This,  of  course,  is  very 
edifying,  even  apart  from  its  pantomimic  and  monosyllabic  char- 
acter, for  I  am  now  among  a  queer  people,  a  people  through  the 
unoccupied  chambers  of  whose  unsophisticated  minds  wander 
strange,  fantastic  thoughts.  One  of  the  transient  horsemen,  a  con- 
templative young  man,  the  promising  appearance  of  whose  upper 
lip  proclaims  him  something  over  twenty,  announces  that  he  Uke- 
wise  is  on  the  way  to  Yuzgat ;  and  after  listening  attentively  to  my 
explanations  of  how  a  wheelman  climbs  mountains  and  overcomes 
stretches  of  bad  road,  he  solemnly  inquires  whether  a  'cycler  could 
scurry  up  a  mountain  slope  all  right  if  some  one  were  to  follow  be- 
hind and  touch  him  up  occasionally  with  a  whip,  in  the  persuasive 
manner  required  in  driving  a  horse.  He  then  produces  a  rawhide 
"persuader,"  and  ventures  the  opinion  that  if  he  followed  close 
behind  me  to  Yuzgat,  and  touched  me  up  smartly  with  it  whenever 
we  came  to  a  motmtain,  or  a  sandy  road,  there  would  be  no  neces- 
sity of  trundling  any  of  the  way.     He  then  asks,  with  the  innocent 


334 


FEOM   SAW    FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


simplicity  of  a  cbild,  whether  in  case  he  made  the  experiment,  I 
would  get  angry  and  shoot  him. 


The  Unspeakable  Oriental. 


The  other  transient  appears  of  a  more  speculative  turn  of  mind, 
and  draws  largely  upon  his  own  pantomimic  powers  and  my  limited 


BEY   BAZAAK,    ANGOEA,    AND   EASTWARD.  335 

knowledge  of  Turkisli,  to  ascertain  the  difference  between  the 
kalch  lira  of  a  bicycle  at  retail,  and  the  hatch  lira  of  its  manufac- 
ture. Prom  the  amount  of  mental  labor  he  voluntarily  inflicts 
upon  himself  to  acquire  this  particular  item  of  information,  I  ap- 
prehend that  nothing  less  than  wild  visions  of  acquiring  a  rapid 
fortune  by  starting  a  bicycle  factory  at  Angora,  are  flitting  through 
his  imaginative  mind.  The  villagers  themselves  seem  to  consider 
me  chiefly  from  the  standpoint  of  their  own  peculiar  ideas  con- 
cerning the  nature  of  an  Englishman's  feelings  toward  a  Eussian. 
My  performance  on  the  roof  has  put  them  in  the  best  of  humor, 
and  has  evidently  whetted  their  appetites  for  further  amusement. 
Pointing  to  a  stoHd-looking  individual,  of  an  apparently  taciturn 
disposition,  and  who  is  one  of  the  respectably-dressed  few,  they 
accuse  him  of  being  a  Russian  ;  and  then  all  eyes  are  turned  to- 
wards me,  as  though  they  quite  expect  to  see  me  rise  up  wrathfully 
and  make  some  warlike  demonstration  against  him.  My  undemon- 
strative disposition  forbids  so  theatrical  a  proceeding,  however, 
and  I  confine  myself  to  making  a  pretence  of  falling  into  the  trap, 
casting  furtive  glances  of  suspicion  towards  the  supposed  hated 
subject  of  the  Czar,  and  making  whispered  inquiries  of  my  immedi- 
ate neighbors  concerning  the  nature  of  his  mission  in  Turkish  ter- 
ritory. During  this  interesting  comedy  the  "  audience  "  are  fairly 
shaking  in  their  rags  with  suppressed  merriment ;  and  when  the 
taciturn  individual  himself — who  has  thus  far  retained  his  habitual 
self-composure — growing  restive  under  •  the  hateful  imputation  of 
being  a  Muscov  and  my  supposed  bellicose  sentiments  toward  him 
in  consequence,  finally  repudiates  the  part  thus  summarily  assigned 
him,  the  whole  company  bursts  out  into  a  boisterous  roar  of 
laughter.  At  this  happy  turn  of  sentiment  I  assume  an  air  of  in- 
tense relief,  shake  the  taciturn  man's  hand,  and,  borrowing  the 
speculative  transient's  fez,  proclaim  myself  a  Turk,  an  act  that  fairly 
"  brings  down  the  house." 

Thus  the  evening  passes  men-ilj'  away  until  about  ten  o'clock, 
when  the  people  begin  to  slowly  disperse  to  the  roofs  of  their  re- 
spective habitations,  the  whole  population  sleeping  on  the  house- 
tops, with  no  roof  over  them  save  the  star-spangled  vault— the 
arched  dome  of  the  great  mosque  of  the  universe,  so  often  adorned 
with  the  pale  yellow,  crescent-shaped  emblem  of  their  religion. 
Several  families  occupy  the  roof  which  has  been  the  theatre  of  the 
evening's  social  gathering,  and  the  men  now  consign  me  to  a  com- 


336  FROM   SAN   FKANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

fortable  coueli  made  up  of  several  quilts,  one  of  the  transients 
thougMfully  cautioning  me  to  put  my  moccasins  under  my  pillow, 
as  these  articles  were  the  object  of  almost  universal  covetousness 
during  the  evening.  No  sooner  am  I  comfortably  settled  down, 
than  a  wordy  warfare  breaks  out  in  my  immediate  vicinity,  and 
an  ancient  female  makes  a  determined  dash  at  my  coverlet,  with 
the  object  of  taking  forcible  possession ;  but  she  is  seized  and 
unceremoniously  hustled  away  by  the  men  who  assigned  me  my 
quarters.  It  appears  that,  with  an  eye  singly  and  disinterestedly 
to  my  own  comfort,  and  regardless  of  anybody  else's,  they  have, 
without  taking  the  trouble  to  obtain  her  consent,  appropriated  to 
my  use  the  old  lady's  bed,  leaving  her  to  shift  for  herself  any  way 
she  can,  a  high-handed  proceeding  that  naturally  enough  arouses 
her  virtuous  indignation  to  the  pitch  of  resentment. 

Upon  this  fact  occurring  to  me,  I  of  course  immediately  vacate 
the  property  in  dispute,  and,  with  true  Western  gallantry,  arraign 
myself  on  the  rightful  owner's  side  by  carrying  my  wheel  and  other 
eifects  to  another  position ;  whereupon  a  satisfactory  compromise 
is  soon  arranged  between  the  disputants,  by  which  another  bed  is 
prepared  for  me,  and  the  ancient  dame  takes  triumphant  possession 
of  her  own.  Peace  and  tranquillity  being  thus  established  "on  a 
firm  basis,  the  several  families  tenanting  our  roof  settle  themselves 
snugly  down.  The  night  is  still  and  calm,  and  naught  is  heard 
save  my  nearer  neighbors'  scratching,  scratching,  scratching.  This 
— not  the  scratching,  but  the  quietness — doesn't  last  long,  however, 
for  it  is  customary  to  collect  all  the  four-footed  possessions  of  the 
village  together  eveiy  night  and  permit  them  to  occupy  the  inter- 
spaces between  the  houses,  while  the  humans  are  occupying  the 
roofs,  the  horde  of  watch-dogs  being  depended  upon  to  keep 
watch  and  ward  over  everything.  The  hovels  are  more  under- 
ground than  above  the  surface,  and  often,  when  the  village  occu- 
pies sloping  ground,  the  upper  edge  of  the  roof  is  practically  but 
a  continuation  of  the  solid  ground,  or  at  the  most  there  is  but  a 
single  step-up  between  them.  The  goats  are  of  course  permitted 
to  wander  whithersoever  they  wUl,  and  equally,  of  course,  they  abuse 
their  privileges  by  preferring  the  roofs  to  the  gTound  and  wander- 
ing incessantly  about  ainong  the  sleepers.  Where  the  roof  comes 
too  near  the  ground  some  temporary  obstruction  is  erected,  to 
guard  against  the  iatrusion  of  venturesome  buffaloes. 

No  sooner  have  the  humans  quieted  down,  than  several  goats 


BEY    BAZAAR,    ANGORA,    AND    EASTWARD.  337 

promptly  iuvade  the  roof,  and  commence  their  usual  nocturnal 
promenade  among  tlie  prostrate  forms  of  their  owners,  and  further 
indulge  their  well-known  goatish  propensities  by  nibbling  away  the 
edges  of  the  roof.  (They  would,  of  course,  prefer  a  square  meal  off 
a  patchwork  quilt,  but  from  their  earliest  infancy  they  are  tau.ght 
that  meddling  with  the  bedclothes  will  bring  severe  punishment.) 
A  buffalo  occasionally  gives  utterance  to  a  solemn,  prolonged 
"  m-o-o-o  ;"  now  and  then  a  baby  wails  its  infantile  disapproval  of 
the  fleas,  and  frequent  noisy  squabbles  occur  among  the  dogs. 
Under  these  conditions,  it  is  not  surprising  that  one  should  w'oo  in 
vain  the  drowsy  goddess  ;  and  near  midnight  some  person  within 
a  few  yards  of  my  couch  begins  groaning  fearfully,  as  if  in  great  paiu 
— probably  a  case  of  the  stomach-ache,  I  mentallj'  conclude,  though 
this  hasty  conclusion  may  not  unnaturally  result  from  an  inner  con- 
sciousness of  being  better  equipped  for  curing  that  particular  afflic- 
tion than  any  other.  From  the  position  of  the  sufferer,  I  am  in- 
cliaed  to  think  it  is  the  same  ancient  pai-ty  that  ousted  me  out  of 
her  possessions  two  hom-s  ago,  and  I  lay  here  as  far  removed  from 
the  realms  of  unconsciousness  as  the  moment  I  retired,  expecting 
every  minute  to  see  her  appear  before  me  in  a  penitential  mood, 
asking  me  to  cure  her,  for  the  inevitable  hakim  question  had  been 
raised  during  the  evening.  She  doesn't  present  herself,  however  ; 
perhaps  the  self-accusations  of  her  conscience,  for  having  in  the  mo- 
ment of  her  wrath  attempted  to  appropriate  my  coverlet  in  so  rude 
a  manner,  prevent  her  appealing  to  me  now  in  the  hour  of  distress. 
These  people  are  eaiiy  risers ;  the  women  are  up  milking  the 
goats  and  buffaloes  before  daybreak,  and  the  men  hieing  them  away 
to  the  harvest  fields  and  thi-eshing-fioors.  I,  likewise,  bestir  myself 
at  daylight,  intending  to  reach  the  next  village  before  breakfast. 


22 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

ACEOSS  THE  KIZIL  IRMAK  EIVBE  TO  YUZGAT. 

The  country  continues  much  the  same  as  yesterday,  with  the 
road  indifferent  for  wheeling.  Eeaching  the  expected  village  about 
eight  o'clock,  I  breakfast  off  ekmek  and  new  buffalo  milk,  and  at 
once  continue  on  my  way,  meeting  nothing  particularly  interesting, 
save  a  lively  bout  occasionally  with  goat-herds'  dogs — the  reminis- 
cences of  which  are  doubtless  more  vividly  interesting  to  myself 
than  they  would  be  to  the  reader — until  high  noon,  when  I  arrive 
at  another  village,  larger,  but  equally  wretched-looking,  on  the 
Kizil  Ii-mak  River,  called  Jas-chi-kham.  On  the  west  bank  of  the 
stream  are  some  ancient  ruins  of  quite  massive  architecture,  and 
standing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  road,  evidently  having  some 
time  been  removed  from  the  ruins  with  a  view  to  being  transported 
elsewhere,  is  a  couchant  lion  of  heroic  proportions,  carved  out  of  a 
sohd  block  of  white  marble  ;  the  head  is  gone,  as  though  its  would- 
be  possessors,  having  found  it  beyond  their  power  to  transport  the 
whole  animal,  have  made  off  with  what  they  could.  An  old  and 
curiously  arched  bridge  of  massive  rock  spans  the  river  near  its 
entrance  to  a  wild,  rocky  gorge  in  the  mountains  ;  a  primitive 
grist  mill  occupies  a  position  to  the  left,  near  the  entrance  to 
the  gorge,  and  a  herd  of  camels  are  slaking  their  thirst  or 
grazing  near  the  water's  edge  to  the  right  —  a  genuine  Eastern 
picture,  surely,  and  one  not  to  be  seen  every  day,  even  in  the  land 
where  to  see  it  occasionally  is  quite  possible. 

Riding  into  Jas-chi-khan,  I  dismount  at  a  building  which,  from 
the  presence  of  several  "do-nothings,"  I  take  to  be  a  khan  for 
the  accommodation  of  travellers.  In  a  partially  open  shed-like 
apartment  are  a  number  of  demure  looking  maidens,  industriously 
employed  in  weaving  carpets  by  hand  on  a  rude,  upright  frame, 
while  two  others,  equally  demure-looking,  are  seated  on  the  ground 
cracking  wheat  for  pillau,  wheat  being  substituted  for  rice  where 
the  latter  is  not  easily  obtainable,  or  is  too  expensive.     Waiving  all 


ACROSS   THE   KIZIL   IKMAK   KIVEE  TO   YUZGAT.        339 

considerations  of  whether  I  am  welcome  or  not,  I  at  once  enter 
this  abode  of  female  industry,  and  after  watching  the  interesting 
process  of  cai'pet-weaving  for  some  minutes,  turn  my  attention  to 
the  preparers  of  cracked  wheat.  The  process  is  the  same  primitive 
one  that  has  been  employed  among  these  people  from  time  imme- 
morial, and  the  same  that  is  referred  to  in  the  passage  of  Scripture 
which  says  :  "  Two  women  were  grinding  corn  in  the  field  ;"  it  con- 
sists of  a  small  upper  and  nether  millstone,  the  upper  one  being 


'^^!i|y 


A  Sketch  on  the  Kizil   Irmak. 


turned  round  by  two  women  sitting  facing  each  other ;  they  both 
take  hold  of  a  perpendicular  wooden  handle  with  one  hand,  em- 
ploying the  other  to  feed  the  mill  and  rake  away  the  cracked  grain. 
These  two  young  women  have  evidently  been  very  industrious  this 
morning  ;  they  have  half-buried  themselves  in  the  product  of  their 
labors,  and  are  still  grinding  away  as  though  for  their  very  lives, 
while  the  constant  "click-clack  "  of  the  carpet  weavers  prove  them 
likewise  the  embodiment  of  industry. 


340  FROM    SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

They  seem  rather  disconcerted  by  the  abrupt  iutrusion  and 
scrutinizing  attentions  of  a  Frank  and  a  stranger;  however,  the 
fascinating  search  for  bits  of  interesting  experience  forbids  my 
retirement  on  that  account,  but  rather  urges  me  to  make  the  most 
of  fleeting  opportunities.  Picking  up  a  handful  of  the  cracked 
wheat,  I  inquire  of  one  of  the  maidens  if  it  is  for  pillau ;  the 
maiden  blushes  at  being  thus  directly  addressed,  and  with  down- 
cast eyes  vouchsafes  an  affirmative  nod  in  reply  ;  at  the  same  time 
an  observant  eye  happens  to  discover  a  little  brown  big-toe  peejp- 
ing  out  of  the  heap  of  wheat,  and  belonging  to  the  same  demure 
maiden  with  the  downcast  eyes.  I  know  full  well  that  I  am 
stretching  a  point  of  Mohammedan  etiquette,  even  by  coming 
among  these  industrious  damsels  in  the  manner  I  am  doing,  but 
the  attention  of  the  men  is  fully  concentrated  on  the  bicycle  out- 
side, and  the  temptation  of  trying  the  esperiment  of  a  little  jocu- 
larity, just  to  see  what  comes  of  it,  is  under  the  circumstances 
irresistible.  Conscious  of  venturing  where  angels  fear  to  tread,  I 
stoop  down,  and  take  hold  of  the  peeping  little  brown  big-toe,  and 
addressing  the  demure  maiden  with  the  downcast  eyes,  inquire, 
"  Is  this  also  for  pillau  ?  "  This  proves  entirely  too  much  for  the 
risibilities  of  the  industrious  pillau  grinders,  and  letting  go  the 
handle  of  the  mill,  they  both  give  themselves  up  to  uncontrollable 
laughter ;  the  carpet- weavers  have  been  watching  me  out  of  the 
corners  of  their  bright,  black  eyes,  and  catching  the  infection,  the 
click-clack  of  the  carpet-weaving  machines  instantly  ceases,  and 
several  of  the  weavers  hurriedly  retreat  into  an  adjoining  room  to 
avoid  the  awful  and  well-nigh  unheard-of  indiscretion  of  laughing 
in  the  presence  of  a  stranger.  Having  thus  yielded  to  the  tempta- 
tion and  witnessed  th^  results,  I  discreetly  retire,  meeting  at  the 
entrance  a  gray-bearded  Turk  coming  to  see  what  the  merriment 
and  the  unaccountable  stopiJuig  of  the  carpet-weaving  frames  is 
all  about. 

A  sheep  has  been  slaughtered  in  Jas-chi-khan  this  morning, 
and  I  obtain  a  nice  piece  of  mutton,  which  I  hand  to  a  bystander, 
asking  him  to  go  somewhere  and  cook  it ;  in  five  minutes  he  re- 
turns with  the  meat  burnt  black  outside  and  perfectly  raw  within. 
Seeing  my  evident  disapproval  of  its  condition,  the  same  ancient 
person  who  recently  appeared  ujjon  the  scene  of  my  jocular  experi- 
ment and  who  has  now  squatted  himself  down  close  beside  me, 
probably  to  make  sure  against  any  further  indiscretions,  takes  the 


ACROSS   THE    KIZIL   IU:\[AK    raVER   TO    YUZUAT.        341 

meat,  slashes  it  across  in  several  directions  with  bis  dagger,  orders 
the  afore-mentioned  bystander  to  try  it  over  again,  and  then  coolly 
wipes  bis  blackened  and  greasy  fingers  on  my  sheet  of  ekmek  as 
though  it  were  a  table  napkin.  I  obtain  a  few  mouthfuls  of  eatable 
meat  from  the  bystander's  second  culinary  efibrt,  and  then  buy  a 
water-melon  from  a  man  happening  along  with  a  laden  donkey  ; 
cutting  into  the  melon  I  find  it  perfectly  green  all  through,  and 
toss  it  away ;  the  men  look  surprised,  and  some  youngsters 
straightway  pick  it  up,  eat  the  inside  out  until  they  can  scoop  out 
no  more,  and  then,  breaking  the  rind  in  pieces,  they  scrape  it  out 
with  their  teeth  until  it  is  of  egg-shell  thinness.  They  seem  to  do 
these  things  with  impunity  in  Asia. 

The  grade  and  the  wind  are  united  against  me  on  leaving  Jas- 
chi-khan,  but  it  is  ridable,  and  having  made  such  a  dismal  failure 
about  getting  dinner,  I  push  on  toward  a  green  area  at  the  base  of 
a  rocky  mountain  spur,  which  I  observed  an  hour  ago  from  a  point 
some  distance  west  of  the  Kizil  Irmak,  and  concluded  to  be  a 
cluster  of  vineyards.  This  conjecture  turns  out  quite  correct,  and, 
what  is  more,  my  experience  ,upon  arriving  there  would  seem  to  in-, 
dicate  that  the  good  genii  detailed  to  arrange  the  daily  programme 
of  my  journey  had  determined  to  recompense  me  to-day  for  hav- 
ing seen  nothing  of  the  feminine  world  of  late  but  yashmaks  and 
shrouds,  and  momentary  monocular  evidence  ;  for  here  again  am 
I  thrown  into  the  society  of  a  bevy  of  maidens,  more  interesting, 
if  anything,  than  the  nymphs  of  industry  at  Jas-chi-khan. 

There  is  apparently  some  festive  occasion  at  the  little  vineyai-d- 
euvironed  village,  which  stands  back  a  hundred  yai'ds  or  so  from 
the  road,  and  which  is  approached  by  a  narrow  foot-way  between 
thrifty-looking  vineyards.  Three  blooming  damsels,  in  all  the  brav- 
ei-y  of  holiday  attire,  with  necklaces  and  pendants  of  jingling  coins 
to  distinguish  them  from  the  matrons,  come  hurrying  down  the  path- 
way toward  the  road  at  my  approach.  Seeing  me  dismount,  upon 
arriving  opposite  the  village,  the  handsomest  and  gayest  dressed 
of  the  three  goes  into  one  of  the  vineyards,  and  with  charming- 
grace  of  manner,  presents  herself  before  me  with  both  hands  over- 
flowing with  bunches  of  luscious  black  grapes.  Their  abundant 
black  tresses  are  gathered  in  one  long  plait  behind  ;  they  wear 
bracelets,  necklaces,  pendants,  brow-bands,  head  ornaments,  and 
all  sorts  of  wonderful  articles  of  jewelry,  made  out  of  the  common 
silver  and  metallic  coins  of  the  country ;  they  are  small  of  stature 


343  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

and  possess  oval  faces,  large  black  eyes,  and  warm,  dark  com- 
plexions. Their  manner  and  dress  prove  rather  a  puzzle  in  deter- 
mining their  nationality ;  they  are  not  Turkish,  nor  Greek,  nor 
Armenian,  nor  Circassian  ;  they  may  possibly  be  sedentary  Turko- 
mans ;  but  they  possess  rather  a  Jewish  cast  of  countenance,  and 
my  first  impression  of  them  is,  that  they  are  "Bible  people,"  the 
original  inhabitants  of  the  country,  who  have  somehow  managed 
to  cling  to  their  little  possessions  here,  in  spite  of  Greeks,  Turks, 
and  Persians,  and  other  conquering  races  who  have  at  times  over- 
run the  country  ;  perhaps  they  have  softened  the  hearts  of  every- 
body undertaking  to  oust  them  by  their  graceful  manners. 

Other  villagers  soon  collect,  making  a  picturesque  and  interest- 
ing group  around  the  bicycle  ;  but  the  maiden  with  the  grapes  makes 
too  pretty  and  complete  a  picture  for  any  of  the  others  to  attract 
more  than  passing  notice.  One  of  her  two  companions  whisperingly 
calls  her  attention  to  the  plainly  evident  fact  that  she  is  being  re- 
garded with  admiration  by  the  stranger.  She  blushes  perceptibly 
through  her  nut-brown  cheeks  at  hearing  this,  but  she  is  also  quite 
conscious  of  her  claims  to  admiration,  and  likes  to  be  admired  ;  so 
she  neither  changes  her  attitude  of  respectful  grace,  nor  raises  her 
long  drooping  eyelashes,  while  I  eat  and  eat  grapes,  taking  them 
bunch  after  bunch  from  her  overflowing  hands,  until  ashamed  to 
eat  any  more.  I  confess  to  almost  falling  in  love  with  that  maiden, 
her  manners  were  so  easy  and  graceful ;  and  when,  with  ever-down- 
cast eyes  and  a  bewitching  manner  that  leaves  not  the  sHghtest 
room  for  considering  the  doing  so  a  bold  or  forward  action,  she 
puts  the  remainder  of  the  grapes  in  my  coat  pockets,  a  peculiar 
fluttering  sensation — but  I  draw  a  veil  over  my  feelings,  they  are 
too  sacred  for  the  garish  pages  of  a  book.  I  do  not  inquire 
about  their  nationality,  I  would  rather  it  remain  a  mystery,  and  a 
matter  for  future  conjecture  ;  but  before  leaving  I  add  something 
to  her  already  conspicuous  array  of  coins  that  have  been  increas- 
ing since  her  birth,  and  which  wiU  form  her  modest  dowry  at  mar- 
riage. 

The  road  continues  of  excellent  surface,  but  i-ather  hilly  for  a 
few  miles,  when  it  descends  into  the  Valley  of  the  Delijeh  Irmak, 
where  the  artificial  highway  again  deteriorates  into  the  unpacked 
condition  of  yesterday ;  the  donkey  trails  are  shallow  trenches  of 
dust,  and  are  no  longer  to  be  depended  upon  as  keeping  my  gen- 
eral course,  but  are  rather  cross-country  trails  leading  from  one 


ACROSS  THE   KIZIL   IRMAK   RIVER  TO   YUZGAT. 


M3 


mountain  village  to  another.  The  well-defined  caravan  trail  lead- 
ing from  Ismidt  to  Angora  comes  no  farther  eastwai-d  than  the  lat- 
ter cit}',  which  is  the  central  point  where  the  one  exportable  com- 
modity of  the  vilayet  is  collected  for  barter  and  transportation  to 
the  seaboai-d.     The  Delijeh  Ii-mak  Valley  is  under  partial  cuUiva- 


..  h-^f ' 


Grapes  and  Grace. 

tion,  and  occasionally  one  passes  through  small  areas  of  melon 
gardens  far  away  from  any  permanent  habitations  ;  temporary  huts 
or  dug-outs  are,  however,  an  invariable  adjunct  to  these  isolated 
possession  of  the  villagers,  in  which  some  one  resides  day  and 
night  during  the  melon  season,  guarding  theu-  property  with  gun 


344  FROM    SAW   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

and  dog  from  uuscrupulous  wayfarers,  wlio  otherwise  would  not 
hesitate  to  make  their  visit  to  town  profitable  as  well  as  pleasurable, 
by  surreptitiously  confiscating  a  donkey-load  of  salable  melons  from 
their  neighbor's  roadside  garden.  Sometimes  I  essay  to  purchase  a 
musk-melon  from  these  lone  sentinels,  but  it  is  impossible  to  ob- 
tain one  fit  to  eat ;  these  wretched  preyers  on  Nature's  bounty  evi- 
dently pluck  and  devour  them  the  moment  they  develop  from  the 
bitterness  of  their  earliest  growth.  No  villages  are  passed  on  the 
road  after  leaving  the  vintagers'  cluster  at  noon,  but  bunches  of 
mud  hovels  are  at  intervals  descried  a  few  miles  to  the  right, 
perched  among  the  hills  that  form  the  southern  boundary  of  the 
valley  ;  being  of  the  same  color  as  the  general  surface  about  them, 
they  are  not  easily  distinguishable  at  a  distance.  There  seems  to 
be  a  decided  propensity  among  the  natives  for  choosing  the  hUls  as 
an  habitation,  even  when  their  arable  lands  are  miles  away  in  the 
valley  ;  the  salubrity  of  the  more  elevated  location  may  be  the  chief 
consideration,  but  a  swiftly  flowing  mountain  rivulet  near  his  habi- 
tation is  to  the  Mohammedan  a  source  of  perpetual  satisfaction. 

I  travel  along  for  some  time  after  nightfall,  in  hopes  of  reach- 
ing a  village,  but  none  appearing,  I  finally  decide  to  camp  out. 
Choosing  a  j)Osition  behind  a  convenient  knoll,  I  pitch  the  tent 
where  it  will  be  invisible  from  the  road,  using  stones  in  lieu  of  tent- 
pegs  ;  and  inhabiting  for  the  first  time  this  unique  contrivance,  I 
sup  off  the  grapes  remaining  over  from  the  bountiful  feast  at  noon- 
and,  being  without  any  covering,  stretch  myself  without  undressing 
beside  the  upturned  bicycle  ;  notwithstanding  the  gentle  reminders 
of  unsatisfied  hunger,  I  am  enjoying  the  legitimate  reward  of  con- 
stant exercise  in  the  open  air  ten  minutes  after  pitching  the  tent. 
Soon  after  midnight  I  am  awakened  by  the  chilly  influence  of  the 
"  wee  sma'  hours,"  and  recognizing  the  Ukelihood  of  the  tent  prov- 
in"'  more  beneficial  as  a  coverlet  than  a  roof,  in  the  absence  of  rain, 
I  take  it  down  and  roU  myself  up  in  it ;  the  thin,  oiled  cambric  is 
far  from  being  a  blanket,  however,  and  at  daybreak  the  bicycle  and 
everything  is  drenched  with  one  of  the  heavy  dews  of  the  country. 
Ten  mUes  over  an  indifferent  road  is  traversed  next  morning  ; 
the  comfortless  reflection  that  anything  like  a  "  square  meal"  seems 
out  of  the  question  anywhere  between  the  larger  towns  scarcely 
tends  to  exert  a  soothing  influence  on  the  ravenous  attacks  of  a 
most  awful  appetite  ;  and  I  am  beginning  to  think  seriously  of 
making  a  detour  of  several  miles  to  reach  a  mountain  village,  when 


Camping  out. 


ACKOSS    THE    KIZIT.   1R-\[AK   TaVEU  TO    YUZGAT.        347 

I  meet  a  party  of  three  horsemen,  a  Turkish  Bey,  with  an  escort  of 
two  zaptiehs.  I  am  trunclUng  at  the  time,  and  without  a  moments 
hesitancy  I  make  a  dead  set  at  the  Bey,  with  the  single  object  of 
satisfying  to  some  extent  my  gastronomic  requirements. 

"  Bey  Effendi,  have  you  any  ekmelc  f  "  I  ask,  pointing  inquiringly 
to  his  saddle-bags  on  a  zaptieh's  horse,  and  at  the  same  time  giving 
him  to  understand  by  impressive  pantomime  the  uncontrollable  con- 
dition of  my  appetite.  With  what  seems  to  me,  under  the  circum- 
stances, simply  cold-blooded  indifference  to  human  suffering,  the 
Bey  ignores  my  inquiry  altogether,  and  concentrating  his  whole  at- 
tention on  the  bicycle,  asks,  "  What  is  that  ?  " 

"  An  Americanish  araba,  Eflfendi  ;  have  you  any  ekinek  ?  "  toying 
suggestively  with  the  tell-tale  slack  of  my  revolver  belt. 

"  Where  have  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  Stamboul ;  have  you  eJcmeh  in  the  saddle-bags,  Effendi?  "  this 
time  boldly  beckoning  the  zaptieh  with  the  Bey's  effects  to  approach 
nearer. 

"  Where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  Tuzgat !  ekmek  !  ekmek  !  "  tapping  the  saddle-bags  in  quite 
an  imperative  manner.  This  does  not  make  any  outward  impression 
upon  the  Bey's  aggravating  imperturbability,  however  ;  he  is  not 
so  indifferent  to  my  side  of  the  question  as  he  pretends  ;  aware  of 
his  inabihty  to  supply  my  want,  and  afraid  that  a  negative  answer 
would  hasten  my  departure  before  he  has  fuUy  satisfied  his  curi- 
osity concerning  me,  he  is  playing  a  little  game  of  diplomacy  in  his 
own  interests. 

"  What  is  it  for  ?  "  he  now  asks,  with  soul-harrowing  indifference 
to  aU.  my  counter  inquiries. 

"To  bin,"  I  reply,  desperately,  curt  and  indifferent,  beginning 
to  see  through  his  game. 

"  Bin,  bin  !  bacalem  !  "  he  says  ;  supplementing  the  request  with 
a  coaxing  smile.  At  the  same  moment  my  long-suffering  digestive 
apparatus  favors  me  with  an  unusually  savage  reminder,  and  net- 
tled beyond  the  point  where  forbearance  ceases  to  be  any  longer  a 
virtue,  I  return  an  answer  not  exactly  complimentary  to  the  Bey's 
ancestors,  and  continue  my  hungry  way  down  the  valley.  A  couple 
of  mUes  after  leaving  the  Bey,  I  intercept  a  party  of  peasants  trav- 
ersing a  cross-country  traU,  with  a  number  of  pack-donkeys  loaded 
with  rock-salt,  from  whom  I  am  fortunately  able  to  obtain  several 
thin  sheets  of  ekmek,  which  I  sit  down  and  devour  immediately, 


348  FROM   SA:N^   PRAlSrCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

■without  even  water  to  moisten  the  repast ;  it  seems  one  of  the  most 
tasteful  and  soul-satisfying  breakfasts  I  ever  ate. 

Like  misfortunes,  blessings  never  seem  to  come  singly,  for,  an 
hour  after  thus  breaking  my  fast  I  happen  upon  a  party  of  villagers 
working  on  an  unfinished  portion  of  the  new  road  ;  some  of  them 
are  eating  their  morning  meal  of  ekmek  and  yaorl,  and  no  sooner 
do  I  appear  upon  the  scene  than  I  am  straightway  invited  to  par- 
take, a  seat  in  the  ragged  circle  congregated  around  the  large  bowl 
of  clabbered  milk  being  especially  prepared  with  a  bunch  of  pulled 
grass  for  my  benefit.  The  eager  hospitality  of  these  poor  villagers 
is  really  touching ;  they  are  working  without  so  much  as  "  thank 
you  "  for  payment,  there  is  not  a  garment  amongst  the  gang  fit  for 
a  human  covering ;  their  unvarying  daily  fare  is  the  "  blotting- 
paper  ekmek  "  and  i/aort,  with  a  melon  or  a  cucumber  occasionally 
as  a  luxury  ;  yet,  the  moment  I  approach,  they  assign  me  a  place 
at  their  "  table,''  and  two  of  them  immediately  bestir  themselves  to 
make  me  a  comfortable  seat.  Neither  is  there  so  much  as  a  mer- 
cenary thought  among  them  in  connection  with  the  invitation  ; 
these  poor  fellows,  whose  scant  rags  it  would  be  a  farce  to  call 
clothing,  actually  betray  embarrassment  at  the  barest  mention  of 
compensation  ;  they  fill  my  pockets  with  bread,  apologize  for  the 
absence  of  coffee,  and  compare  the  quality  of  their  respective 
pouches  of  native  tobacco  in  order  to  make  me  a  decent  cigarette. 

Never,  surely,  was  the  reputation  of  Dame  Fortune  for  fickle- 
ness so  completely  proved  as  in  her  treatment  of  me  this  morning 
— ten  o'clock  finds  me  seated  on  a  pile  of  rugs  in  a  capacious 
black  tent,  "  wrassling  "  with  a  huge  bowl  of  savory  mutton  •pillau, 
flavored  with  gi-een  herbs,  as  the  guest  of  a  Koordish  sheikh  ; 
shortly  afterwai-ds  I  meet  a  man  taking  a  donkey-load  of  musk- 
melons  to  the  Koordish  camp,  who  insists  on  presenting  me  with 
the  finest'  melon  I  have  tasted  since  leaving  Constantinople  ;  and 
high  noon  finds  me  the  guest  of  another  Koordish  sheikh  ;  thus 
does  a  morning,  which  commenced  with  a  fair  prospect  of  no 
breakfast,  following  after  yesterday's  scant  supply  of  unsuitable 
food,  end  in  more  hospitality  than  I  know  what  to  do  with. 

These  nomad  tribes  of  the  famous  "  black-tents  "  wander  up  to- 
ward Angora  every  summer  with  their  flocks,  in  order  to  be  near 
a  market  at  shearing  time  ;  they  are  famed  far  and  wide  for  their 
hospitality.  Upon  approaching  the  great  open-faced  tent  of  the 
Sheikh,  there  is  a  hurrying  movement  among  the  attendants  to  pre- 


ACROSS   THE   KIZIL   IKMAK    KIVEU   TO    YUZGAT.        349 

pare  a  suitable  raised  seat,  for  they  know  at  a  glauce  that  I  am  an 
Englisliman,  and  likewise  are  aware  that  an  Englishman  cannot  sit 
cross-legged  like  an  Asiatic  ;  at  first,  I  am  rather  surprised  at  their 
evident  ready  recognition  of  my  nationality,  but  I  soon  afterwards 
discover  the  reason.  A  hugh  bowl  of  pillan,  and  another  of  excel- 
lent yaoi't  is  placed  before  me  without  asking  any  questions,  while 
the  dignified  old  Sheikh  fulfils  one's  idea  of  a  gray-bearded  nomad 
patriarch  to  perfection,  as  he  sits  cross-legged  on  a  rug,  solemnly 
smoking  a  nargileh,  and  watching  to  see  that  no  letter  of  his  gener- 
ous code  of  hospitality  toward  strangers  is  overlooked  by  the  attend- 
ants. These  latter  seem  to  be  the  picked  young  men  of  the  tribe ; 
fine,  strapping  fellows,  well-dresed,  six-footers,  and  of  athletic  pro- 
portions ;  perfect  specimens  of  semi-civilized  manhood,  that  would 
seem  better  employed  in  a  grenadier  regiment  than  in  hovering 
about  the  old  Sheikh's  tent,  attending  to  the  filling  and  lighting  of 
his  nargileh,  the  arranging  of  his  cushions  by  day  and  his  bed  at 
night,  the  serving  of  his  food,  and  the  proper  reception  of  his  guests  ; 
and  yet  it  is  an  interesting  sight  to  see  these  splendid  young  fel- 
lows waiting  upon  their  beloved  old  chieftain,  fairly  bounding, 
like  great  affectionate  mastiffs,  at  his  merest  look  or  suggestion. 

Most  of  the  boys  and  young  men  are  out  with  the  flocks,  but 
the  older  men,  the  women  and  children,  gather  in  a  curious  crowd 
before  the  open  tent ;  they  maintain  a  respectful  silence  so  long  as 
I  am  their  Sheikh's  guest,  but  they  gather  about  me  without  reserve 
when  I  leave  the  hospitable  shelter  of  that  respected  person's  quar- 
ters. After  examining  my  helmet  and  sizing  up  my  general  appear- 
ance, they  pi-onounce  me  an  "  English  zaptieli,"  a  distinction  for 
which  I  am  indebted  to  the  circumstance  of  Col.  N ■,  an  Eng- 
lish officer,  having  recently  been  engaged  in  Koordistan  organizing 
a  force  of  native  zaptiehs.  The  women  of  this  particular  camp 
seem,  on  the  whole,  rather  unprepossessing  specimens  ;  some  of 
them  are  hooked-nosed  old  hags,  with  piercing  black  eyes,  and  hair 
dyed  to  a  flaming  "carrotty"  hue  with  henna;  this  latter  is  sup- 
posed to  render  them  beautiful,  and  enhance  their  personal  appear- 
ance in  the  eyes  of  the  men  ;  they  need  something  to  enhance 
their  personal  appearance,  certainly,  but  to  the  untutored  and  in- 
artistic eye  of  the  writer  it  produces  a  horrid,  unnatural  effect. 
According  to  our  ideas,  flaming  red  hair  looks  uncanny  and  of  vul- 
gar, uneducated  taste,  when  associated  with  coal-black  eyes  and  a 
complexion  like  gathering  darkness.     These  vain  mortals  seem  in- 


350  FROM   SAW   I'llANCISCO   TO   TEIIERAW. 

clined  to  tliiuk  that  in  me  tliey  liave  discovered  soinething  to  be 
petted  and  made  much  of,  treating  me  pretty  much  as  a  troop  of 
affectionate  little  girls  would  treat  a  ■wandering  kitten  that  might 
unexpectedly  appear  in  their  midst.  Giddy  young  things  of  about 
fifty  summers  cluster  around  me  in  a  compact  body,  examining  my 
clothes  from  helmet  to  moccasins,  and  critically  feeling  the  text- 
ure of  my  coat  and  shirt,  they  take  off  my  helmet,  reach  over  each 
other's  shoulders  to  stroke  my  hair,  and  pat  my  cheeks  in  the  most 
affectionate  manner  ;  meanwhUe  expressing  themselves  in  soft, 
purring  comments,  that  require  no  linguistic  abilities  to  interpret 
into  such  endearing  remarks  as,  "  Ain't  he  a  dai-ling,  though  ? " 
"  What  nice  soft  hair  and  pretty  blue  eyes  ?  "  "  Don't  you  wish  the 
dear  old  Sheikh  would  let  us  keep  him  ?  "  Considering  the  source 
whence  it  comes,  it  requires  very  little  of  this  to  satisfy  one,  and  as 
soon  as  I  can  prevail  upon  them  to  let  me  escape,  I  mount  and 
wheel  away,  several  huge  dogs  escorting  me,  for  some  minutes, 
in  the  peculiar  manner  Koordish  dogs  have  of  escorting  stray 
'cyclers. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

FnOM  THE  KOORDISH  CAMP  TO  YUZGAT. 

From  tlie  Koordish  encampment  my  route  leads  over  a  low 
mountain  spur  by  easy  gradients,  and  by  a  winding,  unridable 
trail  down  into  the  valley  of  the  eastern  fork  of  the  Delijah  Irmak. 
The  road  improves  as  this  valley  is  reached,  and  noon  finds  me  the 
■wonder  and  admiration  of  another  Koordish  camp,  where  I  remain 
a  couple  of  hours  in  deference  to  the  powers  of  the  midday  sun. 
One  has  no  scruples  about  partaking  of  the  hospitality  of  the  no- 
mad Koords,  for  they  are  the  wealthiest  people  in  the  country,  their 
flocks  covering  the  hills  in  many  localities  ;  they  are,  as  a  general 
thing,  fairly  well  dressed,  ai-e  cleaner  in  their  cooking  than  the 
villagers,  and  hospitable  to  the  last  degTee.  Like  the  rest  of  us, 
however,  they  have  their  faults  as  well  as  their  virtues  ;  they  are 
born  freebooters,  and  in  unsettled  times,  when  the  Turkish  Govern- 
ment, being  handicapped  by  weightier  considerations,  is  compelled 
to  relax  its  control  over  them,  they  seldom  fail  to  promptly  re- 
spond to  their  plundering  instincts  and  make  no  end  of  trouble. 
They  stUl  retain  their  hospitableness,  but  after  making  a  ti-aveller 
their  guest  for  the  night,  and  allowing  him  to  depart  with  everj-- 
thing  he  has,  they  will  intercept  him  on  the  road  and  rob  him. 
They  have  some  objectionable  habits,  even  in  these  peaceful  times, 
which  will  better  appear  when  we  reach  their  own  Koordistan, 
where  we  shall,  doubtless,  have  better  opportunities  for  criticising 
them.  Whatever  their  faults  or  virtues,  I  leave  this  camp,  hoping 
that  the  termination  of  the  day  may  find  me  the  guest  of  another 
sheikh  for  the  night  An  hour  after  leaving  this  camp  I  pass 
through  an  area  of  vineyai-ds,  out  of  which  people  come  running 
with  as  many  grapes  among  them  as  would  feed  a  dozen  people  ; 
the  road  is  ridable,  and  I  hurry  along  to  avoid  their  bother.  Verily 
it  would  seem  that  I  am  being  hounded  down  by  retributive  jus- 
tice for  sundiy  evil  thoughts  and  impatient  remarks,  associated 
with  my  hungiy  experiences  of  early  morning  ;  then  I  was  wonder- 


352  FUOM   SAN   FIIANCISCO   TO   TKUEIJAX. 

ing  where  the  next  mouthful  of  food  was  going  to  overtake  me, 
this  afternoon  finds  me  pedalling  determinedly  to  prevent  being 
overtaken  by  it. 

The  afternoon  is  hot  and  with  scarcely  a  breath  of  air  moving  ; 
the  little  valley  terminates  in  a  region  of  barren,  red  hills,  on  which 
the  sun  glares  fiercely ;  some  toughish  climbing  has  to  be  accom- 
plished in  scaling  a  ridge,  and  then  I  emerge  into  an  upland  lava 
plateau,  where  the  only  vegetation  is  sun-dried  weeds  and  thistles. 
Here  a  herd  of  camels  are  contentedly  browsing,  munching  the 
dry,  thorny  herbage  with  a  satisfaction  that  is  evident  a  mile  away. 
From  casual  observations  along  the  route,  I  am  incUned  to  tliink  a 
camel  not  far  behind  a  goat  in  the  depravity  of  its  appetite  ;  a 
camel  will  wander  uneasily  about  over  a  greensward  of  moist,  suc- 
culent grass,  scanning  his  surroundings  in  search  of  giant  thistles, 
frost-bitten  tumble-weeds,  tough,  spriggy  camel  thorns,  and  odds 
and  ends  of  unpalatable  vegetation  generally.  Of  course,  the 
"ship  of  the  desert"  never  sinks  to  such  total  depravitj'  as  to  han- 
ker after  old  gum  overshoes  and  circus  posters,  but  if  permitted  to 
forage  around  human  habitations  for  a  few  generations,  I  think 
they  would  eventually  degenerate  to  the  goat's  disreputable  level. 
The  expression  of  utter  astonishment  that  overspreads  the  angular 
countenance  of  the  camels  browsing  near  the  roadside,  at  my  ap- 
pearance, is  one  of  the  most  ludicrous  sights  imaginable  ;  they 
seem  quite  intelligent  enough  to  recognize  in  a  wheelman  and  his 
steed  something  inexplicable  and  foreign  to  their  country,  and 
their  look  of  timid  inquiry  seems  ridiculously  unsuited  to  their 
size  and  the  general  ungainliness  of  then*  appearance,  producing  a 
comical  effect  that  is  worth  going  miles  to  see. 

It  is  approaching  sun-down,  when,  ascending  a  ridge  overlooking 
another  valley,  I  am  gratified  at  seeing  it  occupied  bj'  several  Koor- 
dish  camps,  their  clusters  of  .black  tents  being  a  conspicuous  feat- 
ure of  the  landscape.  With  a  fair  prospect  of  hospitable  quarters  for 
the  night  before  me,  and  there  being  no  distinguishable  signs  of  a 
road,  I  make  my  way  across  country  toward  one  of  the  camps  that 
seems  to  be  nearest  my  proper  course.  I  have  arrived  within  a  mile 
of  my  objective  point,  when  I  observe,  at  the  base  of  a  mountain 
about  half  the  distance  to  my  right,  a  large,  white  two-storied  build- 
ing, the  most  pretentious  structure,  by  long  odds,  that  has  been 
seen  since  leaving  Angora.  My  curiosity  is,  of  course,  aroused 
concerning  its  probable  character ;  it  looks  like  a  bit  of  ci^iliza- 


FROM   TIIK    KOORDISir   CAMP   TO    YUZGAT.  353 

tion  tliat  has  in  some  unaccountable  manner  found  its  way  to  a  re- 
■  gion  where  no  other  human  habitations  are  visible,  save  the  tents 
of  wild  tribesmen,  and  I  at  once  shape  my  course  toward  ii  It 
turns  out  to  be  a  rock-salt  mine  or  quai-ry,  that  supplies  the  whole 
region  for  scores  of  miles  around  with  salt,  rock-salt  being  the  only 
kind  obtainable  in  the  country ;  it  was  from  this  mine  that  the 
donkey  party  from  whom  I  first  obtained  bread  this  morning 
fetched  their  loads.  Here  I  am  invited  to  remain  over  night,  am 
provided  with  a  substantial  supper,  the  menu  including  boiled 
mutton,  with  cucumbers  for  desert.  The  managers  and  employees 
of  the  quarry  make  their  cucumbers  tasteful  by  rubbing  the  end 
with  a  piece  of  rock-salt  each  time  it  is  cut  off  or  bitten,  each  per- 
son keeping  a  select  little  square  for  the  purpose.  The  salt  is  sold 
at  the  mine,  and  owners  of  transportation  facilities  in  the  shape  of 
pack  animals  make  money  by  purchasing  it  here  at  six  paras  an 
oke,  and  selling  it  at  a  profit  in  distant  towns. 

Two  young  men  seem  to  have  charge  of  transacting  the  business; 
one  of  them  is  inordinately  inquisitive,  he  even  wants  to  try 
and  unstick  the  envelope  containing  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Mr. 
Tifticjeeoghlou's  father  in  Yuzgat,  and  read  it  out  of  pure  curiosity 
to  see  what  it  says ;  and  he  offers  me  a  lira  for  my  Waterbury 
watch,  notwithstanding  its  Alia  Franga  face  is  beyond  his  Turkish 
comprehension.  The  loud,  confident  tone  in  which  the  Waterbury 
ticks  impresses  the  natives  very  favorably  toward  it,  and  the  fact  of 
its  not  opening  at  the  back  like  other  time-pieces,  creates  the  im- 
pression that  it  is  a  watch  that  never  gets  cranky  and  out  of  order  ; 
quite  different  from  the  ones  they  carry,  since  their  curiosity  leads 
them  to  be  always  fooling  with  the  works.  American  clocks  ai-e 
found  all  through  Asia  Minor,  fitted  mth  Oriental  faces  and  there  is 
little  doubt  but  the  Waterbury,  with  its  resonant  tick,  if  similiarly 
prepared,  would  find  here  a  ready  market. 

The  other  branch  of  the  managerial  staff  is  a  specimen  of  human- 
ity peculiarly  Asiatic  Turkish,  a  melancholy-faced,  contemplative  per- 
son, who  spends  nearly  the  whole  evening  in  gazing  in  silent  wonder 
at  me  and  the  bicycle  ;  now  and  then  giving  expression  to  his  utter 
inabUity  to  understand  how  such  things  can  possibly  be  by  shaking 
his  head  and  giving  utterance  to  a  pecuHar  clucking  of  astonish- 
ment He  has  heard  me  mention  having  come  from  Stamboul,  which 
satisfies  him  to  a  certain  extent ;  for,  like  a  true  Turk,  he  believes 
that  at  Stamboul  all  wonderful  things  originate  ;  whether  the  bicycle 
33 


354 


■  FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 


was  made  there,  or  whetlier  it  originally  came  from  somewhere  else, 
doesn't  seem  to  enter  into  his  speculations  ;  the  simple  knowledge 
that  I  have  come  from  Stamboul  is  aU-suffieient  for  him  ;  so  far  as 
he  is  concerned,  the  bicycle  is  simply  another  wonder  from  Stam- 
boul, another  proof  that  the  earthly  paradise  of  the  Mussulman 
world  on  the  Bosphorus  is  all  that  he  has  been  taught  to  believe 
it.     When  the  contemplative  young  man  ventures  away  from  the 


The  Contemplative  Young  Man. 

dreamy  realms  of  his  own  imaginations,  and  from  the  society  of  his 
inmost  thoughts,  far  enough  to  make  a  remark,  it  is  to  ask  me  some- 
thing about  Stamboul ;  but  being  naturally  taciturn  and  retiring, 
and  moreover,  anything  but  an  adept  at  pantomimic  language,  he 
prefers  mainly  to  draw  his  own  conclusions  in  silence.  He  man- 
ages to  make  me  understand,  however,  that  he  intends  before  long 
making  a  journey  to  see  Stamboul  for  himself ;  like  many  another 
Turk  from  the  barren  hills  of  the  interior,  he  will  visit  the  Otto- 


FROM  THE  KOORDISH  CAMP  TO   YUZGAT.  355 

man  capital ;  he  will  recite  from  the  Koran  under  the  glorious 
mosaic  dome  of  St.  Sophia  ;  wander  about  that  wonder  of  the  Ori- 
ent, the  Stamboul  bazaar  ;  gaze  for  hours  on  the  matchless  beauties 
of  the  Bosphorus  ;  ride  on  one  of  the  steamboats ;  see  the  rail- 
way', the  tramway,  the  Sultan's  palaces,  and  the  shipping,  and  re- 
turn to  his  native  hills  thoroughly  convinced  that  in  all  the  world 
there  is  no  place  fit  to  be  compared  with  Stamboul ;  no  place  so 
full  of  wonders  ;  no  place  so  beautiful ;  and  wondering  how  even 
the  land  of  the  kara  ghuz  kiz,  the  material  paradise  of  the  Moham- 
medans, can  possibly  be  more  lovely.  The  contemplative  young 
man  is  tall  and  slender,  has  large,  dreamy,  black  eyes,  a  downy 
upper  lip,  a  melancholy  cast  of  countenance,  and  wears  a  long  print 
wrapper  of  neat  dotted  pattern,  gathered  at  the  waist  with  a  girdle 
d  la  dressing-gown. 

The  inquisitive  partner  makes  me  up  a  comfortable  bed  of 
quilts  on  the  divan  of  a  large  room,  which  is  also  occupied  by 
several  salt  traders  remaining  over  night,  and  into  which  their 
own  small  private  apartments  open.  A  few  minutes  after  they 
have  retired  to  their  respective  rooms,  the  contemplative  young 
man  reappears  with  silent  tread,  and  with  a  scornful  glance  at  my 
surroundings,  both  human  and  inanimate,  gathers  up  my  loose 
effects,  and  bids  me  bring  bicycle  and  everything  into  his  room ; 
here,  I  find,  he  has  already  prepared  for  my  reception  quite 
a  downy  couch,  having  contributed,  among  other  comfortable 
things,  his  wolf-skin  overcoat ;  after  seeing  me  comfortably  estab- 
lished on  a  couch  more  appropriate  to  my  importance  as  a  person 
recently  from  Stamboul  than  the  other,  he  takes  a  lingering  look 
at  the  bicycle,  shakes  his  head  and  clucks,  and  then  extinguishes 
the  Ught. 

Sunrise  on  the  following  morning  finds  me  wheeling  eastward 
from  the  salt  quarry,  over  a  trail  well  worn  by  salt  caravans,  to 
Tfuzgat ;  the  road  leads  for  some  distance  down-  a  grassy  valley, 
covered  with  the  flocks  of  the  several  Koordish  camps  round  about ; 
the  wild  herdsmen  come  galloping  from  all  directions  across  the 
vaUey  toward  me,  their  uncivilized  garb  and  long  swords  giving 
them  more  the  appearance  of  a  ferocious  gang  of  cut-throats  ad- 
vancing to  the  attack  than  shepherds.  Hitherto,  nobody  has 
seemed  any  way  incUned  to  attack  me  ;  I  have  almost  wished 
somebody  would  undertake  a  little  devilment  of  some  kind,  for  the 
sake  of  livening  things  up  a  little,  and  making  my  narrative  more 


356  'FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

stirring ;  after  venturing  everything,  I  have  so  far  nothing  to  tell 
but  a  story  of  being  everywhere  treated  with  the  greatest  con- 
sideration, and  much  of  the  time  even  petted.  I  have  met  armed 
men  far  away  from  any  habitations,  whose  appearance  was  equal  to 
our  most  ferocious  conception  of  bashi  bazouks,  and  merely  from  a 
disinclination  to  be  bothered,  perhaps  being  in  a  hurry  at  the 
time,  have  met  their  curious  inquiries  with  imperious  gestures  to 
be  gone  ;  and  have  been  guilty  of  really  inconsiderate  conduct  on 
more  than  one  occasion,  but  under  no  considerations  have  I  yet 
found  them  guilty  of  anything  vrorse  than  casting  covetous  glances 
at  my  effects.  But  there  is  an  apparent  churlishness  of  manner, 
and  an  overbearing  demeanor,  as  of  men  chafing  under  the  re- 
straining influences  that  prevent  them  gratifying  their  natural  free- 
booting  instincts,  about  these  Koordish  herdsmen  whom  I  en- 
counter this  morning,  that  forms  quite  a  striking  contrast  to  the 
almost  childlike  harmlessness  and  universal  respect  toward  me  ob- 
served in  the  disposition  of  the  villagers. 

It  requires  no  penetrating  scrutiny  of  these  fellows'  countenances 
to  ascertain  that  nothing  could  be  more  uncongenial  to  them  than 
the  state  of  affairs  that  prevents  them  stopping  me  and  looting  me 
of  everything  I  possess  ;  a  couple  of  them  order  me  quite  impera- 
tively to  make  a  detour  from  my  road  to  avoid  approaching  too 
near  their  flock  of  sheep,  and  their  general  behavior  is  pretty  much 
as  though  seeking  to  draw  me  into  a  quarrel,  that  would  afford 
them  an  opportunity  of  plundering  me.  Continuing  on  the  even 
tenor  of  my  way,  affecting  a  lofty  unconsciousness  of  their  existence, 
and  wondering  whether,  in  case  of  being  molested,  it  would  be  ad- 
visable to  use  my  Smith  &  Wesson  in  defending  my  effects,  or  tak- 
ing the  advice  received  in  Constantinople,  offer  no  resistance  what- 
ever, and  trust  to  being  able  to  recover  them  through  the  authorities, 
I  finally  emerge  from  their  vicinity.  Theu-  behavior  simply  confirms 
■what  I  have  previously  understood  of  their  character  ;  that  while 
they  wiU  invariably  extend  hospitable  treatment  to  a  stranger  visit- 
ing their  camps,  like  unreliable  explosives,  they  require  to  be  han- 
dled quite  "  gingerly  "  when  encountered  on  the  road,  to  prevent 
disagreeable  consequences. 

Passing  through  a  low,  marshy  district,  peopled  with  solemn- 
looking  storks  and  croaking  frogs,  I  meet  a  young  sheikh  and  his 
personal  attendants  returning  from  a  morning's  outing  at  their 
favorite  sport  of  hawking  ;  they  carry  their  falcons  about  on  small 


FROM   THE  KOOKDISH   CAMP  TO   TUZGAT.  357 

perches,  fastened  by  the  leg  with  a  tiny  chain.  I  try  to  induce 
them  to  make  a  flight,  but  for  some  reason  or  other  they  refuse  ; 
an  Osmanli  Turk  would  have  accommodated  me  in  a  minute. 
Soon  I  arrive  at  another  Koordish  camp,  fording  a  stream  in  order 
to  reach  their  tents,  for  I  have  not  yet  breakfasted,  and  know  full 
well  that  no  better  opportunity  of  obtaining  one  will  be  likely  to 
turn  up.  Entering  the  nearest  tent,  I  make  no  ceremony  of  call- 
ing for  refreshments,  knowing  well  enough  that  a  heaping  dish  of 
pillau  will  be  forthcoming,  and  that  the  hospitable  Koords  will  re- 
gard the  ordering  of  it  as  the  most  natui-al  thing  in  the  world. 
The  pillau  is  of  rice,  mutton,  and  green  herbs,  and  is  brought  in  a 
large  pewter  dish  ;  and,  together  with  sheet  bread  and  a  bowl  of 
excellent  yaort,  is  brought  on  a  massive  pewter  tray,  which  has  pos- 
sibly belonged  to  the  tribe  for  centuries.  These  tents  are  divided 
into  several  compartments  ;  one  end  is  a  compartment  where  the 
m.en  congregate  in  the  daytime,  and  the  younger  men  sleep  at 
night,  and  where  guests  are  received  and  entertained  ;  the  central 
space  is  the  commissary  and  female  industrial  department ;  the 
others  are  female  and  family  sleeping  places.  Each  compartment 
is  partitioned  off  with  a  hanging  carpet  partition ;  light  portable 
railing  of  small,  upright  willow  sticks  bound  closely  together  pro- 
tects the  central  compartment  from  a  horde  of  dogs  hungrily  nosing 
about  the  camp,  and  small  "  coops  "  of  the  same  material  are  usu- 
ally built  inside  as  a  further  protection  for  bowls  of  milk,  yaort, 
butter,  cheese,  and  cooked  food ;  they  also  obtain  fowls  from  the 
villagers,  which  they  keep  cooped  up  in  a  similar  manner,  until 
the  hapless  prisoners  are  required  to  fulfil  their  destiny  in  chicken 
inllau  ;  the  capacious  covering  over  all  is  strongly  woven  goats'- 
hair  material  of  a  black  or  smoky  brown  color.  In  a  wealthy  tribe, 
the  tent  of  their  sheikh  is  often  a  capacious  affair,  twenty-five  by 
one  hundred  feet,  containing,  among  other  compartments,  stabling 
and  hay-room  for  the  sheikh's  horses  in  winter. 

My  breakfast  is  brought  in  from  the  culinary  department  by  a 
3'oung  woman  of  most  striking  appearance,  certainly  not  less  than 
six  feet  in  height ;  she  is  of  slender,  willowy  build,  and  straight  as 
an  arrow  ;  a  wealth  of  auburn  hair  is  surmounted  by  a  small,  gay- 
colored  turban  ;  her  complexion  is  fairer  than  common  among 
Koordish  woman,  and  her  features  are  the  queenly  features  of  a 
Juno  ;  the  eyes  are  brown  and  lustrous,  and,  were  the  expression 
but  of  ordinary  gentleness,  the  picture  would  be  perfect ;  but  they 


358  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

are  the  round,  wild-looking  orbs  of  a  newly-caged  panther — grimal- 
kin-like eyes,  that  would,  most  assuredly,  turn  green  and  luminous 
in  the  dark.  Other  women  come  to  take  a  look  at  the  stranger, 
gathering  around  and  staring  at  me,  while  I  eat,  with  all  their  eyes 
— and  such  eyes  !  I  never  before  saw  such  an  array  of  "  wild-ani- 
pial  eyes  ; "  no,  not  even  in  the  Zoo !  Many  of  them  are  magnifi- 
cent types  of  womanhood  in  every  other  respect,  tall,  queenly,  and 
symmetrically  perfect ;  but  the  eyes — oh,  those  wild,  tigress  eyes ! 
Travellers  have  told  queer,  queer  stories  about  bands  of  these  wild- 
eyed  Koordish  women  waylaying  and  capturing  them  on  the  roads 
through  Koordistan,  and  subjecting  them  to  barbarous  treatment. 
I  have  smiled,  and  thought  them  merely  "  travellers'  tales  ;  "  but  I 
can  see  plain  enough,  this  morning,  that  there  is  no  improbability 
in  the  stories,  for,  from  a  dozen  pairs  of  female  eyes,  behold,  there 
gleams  not  one  single  ray  of  tenderness :  these  women  are  capable 
of  anything  that  tigresses  are  capable  of,  beyond  a  doubt. 

Almost  the  first  question  asked  by  the  men  of  these  camps  is 
whether  the  English  and  Muscovs  are  fighting  ;  they  have  either 
heard  of  the  present  (summer  of  1885)  crisis  over  the  Afghan 
boundary  question,  or  they  imagine  that  the  English  and  Russians 
maintain  a  sort  of  desultory  warfare  aU  the  time.  When  I  tell  them 
that  the  Muscov  is  fenna  (bad)  they  invariably  express  their  ap- 
proval of  the  sentiment  by  eagerly  calling  each  other's  attention  to 
my  expression.  It  is  singular  with  what  perfect  faith  and  confi- 
dence these  rude  tribesmen  accept  any  statement  I  choose  to  make, 
and  how  eagerly  they  seem  to  dwell  on  simple  statements  of  facts 
that  are  knovm  to  every  school-boy  ia  Christendom.  I  entertain 
them  with  my  map,  showing  them  the  position  of  Stamboul,  Mecca, 
Erzeroum,  and  towns  in  their  own  Koordistan,  which  they  recog- 
nize joyfully  as  I  call  them  by  name.  They  are  profoundly  im- 
pressed at  the  "  extent  of  my  knowledge,"  and  some  of  the  more 
deeply  impressed  stoop  down  and  reverently  kiss  Stamboul  and 
Mecca,  as  I  point  them  out. 

While  thus  pleasantly  engaged,  an  aged  sheikh  comes  to  tht 
tent  and  straightway  begins  "  kickiag  up  a  blooming  row  "  about 
me.  It  seems  that  the  others  have  been  guilty  of  trespassinn-  on 
the  sheikh's  prerogative,  in  entertaining  me  themselves,  instead  of 
conducting  me  to  his  own  tent.  After  upbraiding  them  in  un- 
measured terms,  he  angrily  orders  several  of  the  younger  men  to 
make  themselves  beautifully  scarce  forthwith.     The  culprits— some 


FROM   THE  KOORDISH   CAMP  TO   TUZGAT.  359 

of  tlieni  abundantly  able  to  throw  the  old  fellow  over  their  shoul- 
ders— instinctively  obey  ;  but  they  move  off  at  a  snail's  pace,  with 
lowering  brows,  and  muttering  angry  growls  that  beti-ay  fully  their 
untamed,  intractable  dispositions. 

A  two-hours'  road  experience  among  the  constantly  varying 
slopes  of  rolling  hills,  and  then  comes  a  fertile  valley,  abounding 
in  villages,  wheat-fields,  orchards,  and  melon-gardens.  These  days 
I  find  it  incumbent  on  me  to  turn  washer-woman  occasionally,  and, 
halting  at  the  first  little  stream  in  this  valley,  I  take  upon  myself 
the  onerous  duties  of  ^Yah  Lung  in  Sacramento  City,  having  for  an 
interested  and  interesting  audience  two  evil-looking  kleptomaniacs, 
buffalo-herders  dressed  in  nest  to  nothing,  who  eye  my  garments 
drying  on  the  bushes  with  lingering  covetousness.  It  is  scarcely 
necessaiT  to  add  that  I  watch  them  quite  as  interestingly  myself  ; 
for,  while  I  pity  the  scantiness  of  their  wardrobe,  I  have  notliing 
that  I  could  possibly  spare  among  mine.  A  network  of  irrigating 
ditches,  many  of  them  overflowed,  render  this  valley  difficult  to 
traverse  with  a  bicycle,  and  I  reach  a  lai-ge  village  about  noon, 
myself  and  wheel  plastered  with  mud,  after  traversing  a  section 
where  the  normal  condition  is  three  inches  of  dust. 

Bread  and  grapes  are  obtained  here,  a  light,  airy  dinner,  that  is 
seasoned  and  made  interesting  by  the  unanimous  worrying  of  the 
entire  population.  Once  I  make  a  desperate  effort  to  silence  their 
clamorous  importunities,  and  obtain  a  little  quiet,  by  attempting  to 
ride  over  impossible  ground,  and  reap  the  well-merited  reward  of 
permitting  my  equanimity  to  be  thus  disturbed  in  the  shape  of  a 
header  and  a  slightly-bent  handle-bai'.  While  I  am  eating,  the  gazing- 
stock  of  a  wondering,  commenting  crowd,  a  respectably  dressed  man 
elbows  his  way  through  the  compact  mass  of  humans  around  me,  and 
announces  himself  as  having  fought  under  Osman  Pasha  at  Plevna. 
What  this  has  to  do  with  me  is  a  puzzler  ;  but  the  man  himself, 
and  every  Tui-k  of  patriotic  age  iu  the  crowd,  is  evidently  expecting 
to  see  me  make  some  demonstration  of  approval ;  so,  not  knowing 
what  else  to  do,  I  shake  the  man  cordially  by  the  hand,  and  mod- 
estly inform  my  attentively  listening  audience  that  Osman  Pasha 
and  myself  are  brothers,  that  Osman  yielded  only  when  the  over- 
whelming numbers  of  the  Muscovs  pi'oved  that  it  was  his  kismet 
to  do  so  ;  and  that  the  Kussians  would  never  be  permitted  to  oc- 
cupy Constantinople ;  a  statement,  that  probably  makes  my  sim- 
ple auditors  feel  as  though  they  were  inheriting  a  new  lease  of 


360  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

national  life ;  anyhow,  they  seem  not  a  little  gratified  at  what  I 
am  saying. 

After  this  the  people  seem  to  find  material  for  no  end  of  amuse- 
ment among  themselves,  by  contrasting  the  marifet  of  the  bicycle 
with  the  marifet  of  their  creaking  arabas,  of  which  there  seems  to  be 
.quite  a  number  in  this  vaUey.  They  are  used  chiefly  in  harvesting, 
are  roughly  made,  used,  and  worn  out  in  these  mountain -environed 
valleys  without  ever  going  beyond  the  hills  that  encompass  them 
in  on  every  side.  From  these  villages  the  people  begin  to  cT-ince 
an  alarming  disposition  to  foUow  me  out  some  distance  on  don- 
keys. This  undesirable  trait  of  their  character  is,  of  course,  easily 
counteracted  by  a  short  spurt,  where  spurting  is  possible,  but  it  is 
a  soul-harrowing  thing  to  trundle  along  a  mile  of  unridable  road,  in 
company  with  twenty  importuning  katir-jees,  their  diminutive  don- 
keys filling  the  air  with  suffocating  clouds  of  dust.  There  is  nothing 
on  all  this  mundane  sphere  that  will  so  effectually  subdue  the  pi'oud, 
haughty  spirit  of  a  wheelman,  or  that  will  so  promptly  and  com- 
pletely snuff  out  his  last  flickering  ray  of  dignity  ;  it  is  one  of  the 
pleasantries  of  'cycling  through  a  country  where  the  people  have 
been  riding  donkeys  and  camels  since  the  flood. 

A  few  miles  from  the  village  I  meet  another  candidate  for  medi- 
cal treatment ;  this  time  it  is  a  woman,  among  a  merry  company  of 
donkey-riders,  bound  from  Yuzgat  to  the  salt-mines ;  they  are 
laughing,  singing,  and  othervrise  enjoying  themselves,  after  the 
manner  of  a  New  England  beiTying  party.  The  woman's  affliction, 
she  says,  is  "  fenna  ghuz,"  which,  it  appears,  is  the  term  used  to 
denote  ophthalmia,  as  well  as  the  "evil-eye;"  but  of  course,  not 
being  a  ffhuz  hakim,  I  can  do  nothing  more  than  express  my  sym- 
pathy. The  fertile  valley  gradually  contracts  to  a  narrow,  rocky 
defile,  leading  up  into  a  hilly  region,  and  at  five  o'clock  I  reach 
Yuzgat,  a  city  claiming  a  population  of  thirty  thousand,  that  is 
situated  in  a  depression  among  the  mountains  that  can  scarcely  be 
called  a  valley.  I  have  been  three  and  a  half  days  making  the  one 
hundred  and  thirty  miles  from  Angora. 

Everybody  in  Yuzgat  knows  Youvanaki  Effendi  Tifticjeeoghlou, 
to  whom  I  have  brought  a  letter  of  introduction  ;  and,  shortly 
after  reaching  town,  I  find  myself  comfortably  installed  on  the 
cushioned  divan  of  honor  in  that  worthy  old  gentleman's  lai-ge 
reception  room,  while  half  a  dozen  serving-men  are  almost  knock- 
ing each  other  over  in  their  anxiety  to  furnish  me  coffee,  vishner- 


FROM   THE  KOOEDTSH   CAMP  TO   YUZGAT.  361 

su,  cigarettes,  etc.  They  seem  determined  upon  interpreting  the 
slightest  motion  of  my  hand  or  head  into  some  want  which  I  am 
unable  to  explain,  and,  fancying  thus,  they  are  constantly  bobbing 
up  before  me  with  all  sorts  of  surprising  things.  Tevfik  Bey,  gen- 
eral superintendent  of  the  Regie  (a  company  having  the  monopoly 
of  the  tobacco  trade  in  Turkey,  for  which  they  pay  the  government 
a  fixed  sum  per  annum),  is  also  a  gniest  of  Tifticjeeoghlou  Eflfendi's 
hospitable  mansion,  and  he  at  once  despatches  a  messenger  to  his 
Tuzgat  agent,  Mr.  G.  O.  Tchetchian,  a  vivacious  Greek,  who  speaks 
English  quite  fluently.  After  that  gentleman's  arrival,  we  soon 
come  to  a  more  perfect  understanding  of  each  other  all  round,  and 
a  very  pleasant  evening  is  spent  in  receiving  crowds  of  visitors  in  a 
ceremonious  manner,  in  which  I  really  seem  to  be  holding  a  sort 
of  a  levee,  except  that  it  is  evening  instead  of  morning.  Open 
door  is  kept  for  everybody,  and  mine  host's  retinue  of  pages  and 
serving  men  are  kept  pretty  busy  supplying  coffee  right  and  left ; 
beggai's  in  their  rags  are  even  allowed  to  penetrate  into  the  recep- 
tion-room, to  sip  a  cup  of  coffee  and  take  a  curious  peep  at  the  lu- 
gilisin  and  his  wonderful  araba,  the  fame  of  which  has  spread  like 
wildfire  through  the  city.  Sline  host  himself  is  kept  pretty  well 
occupied  in  returning  the  salaams  of  the  more  distinguished  visit- 
ors, besides  keeping  his  eye  on  the  servants,  by  way  of  keeping 
them  well  up  to  their  task  of  dispensing  coffee  in  a  manner  satis- 
factory to  his  own  liberal  ideas  of  hospitality  ;  but  he  presides 
over  all  with  a  bearing  of  easy  dignity  that  it  is  a  pleasure  to  wit- 
ness. 

The  street  in  front  of  the  Tifticjeeoghlou  residence  is  swarmed 
with  people  next  morning  ;  keeping  open  house  is,  under  the  cir- 
cumstances, no  longer  practicable  ;  the  entrance  gate  has  to  be 
guarded,  and  none  permitted  to  enter  but  privileged  persons. 
During  the  forenoon  the  Oaiinacan  and  several  officials  call  round 
and  ask  me  to  favor  them  by  riding  along  a  smooth  piece  of  road 
opposite  the  mimicipal  konak  ;  as  I  intend  remaining  over  here  to- 
dav,  I  enter  no  objections,  and  accompany  them  forthwith.  The 
rabble  becomes  wildly  excited  at  seeing  me  emerge  vrith  the  bicy- 
cle, in  company  with  the  Caimacan  and  his  staff,  for  they  know 
that  their  curiosity  is  probably  on  the  eve  of  being  gratified.  It 
proves  no  easy  task  to  traverse  the  streets,  for,  like  in  aU  Oriental 
cities,  they  are  narrow,  and  ai-e  now  jammed  with  people.  Time 
and  again  the  Caimacan  is  compelled  to  supplement  the  exertions 


362  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

of  an  inadequate  force  of  zaptiehs  with  his  authoritative  voice,  to 
keep  down  the  excitement  and  the  wild  shouts  of  "  Bin  bacalem ! 
bin  bacalem  !  "  (Ride,  so  that  we  can  see — an  innovation  on  bin,  bin, 
that  has  made  itself  manifest  since  crossing  the  Kizil  Irmak  River) 
that  are  raised,  gradually  swelling  into  the  tumultuous  howl  of  a 
multitude.  The  uproar  is  deafening,  and,  long  before  reaching 
the  place,  the  Gaimacan  repents  having  brought  me  out.  As  for 
myself,  I  certainly  repent  having  come  out,  and  have  'still  better 
reasons  for  doing  so  before  reaching  the  safe  retreat  of  Tifticjeeo- 
ghlou  Effendi's  house,  an  hour  afterward. 

The  most  that  the  inadequate  squad  of  zapliehs  present  can  do, 
when  we  arrive  opposite  the  muncipal  konak,  is  to  keep  the  crowd 
from  pressing  forward  and  overwhelming  me  and  the  bicycle.  They 
attempt  to  keep  open  a  narrow  passage  through  the  surging  sea  of 
humans  blocking  the  street,  for  me  to  ride  down  ;  but  ten  yards 
ahead  the  lane  terminates  in  a  mass  of  fez-crowned  heads.  Uuder 
the  impression  that  one  can  mount  a  bicycle  on  the  stand,  like 
mounting  a  horse,  the  Gaimacan  asks  me  to  mount,  saying  that  when 
the  people  see  me  mounted  and  ready  to  start,  they  will  themselves 
yield  a  passage-way.  Seeing  the  utter  futility  of  attempting  ex- 
planations uuder  existing  conditions,  amid  the  defeaning  clamor  of 
"  Bin  bacalem  !  bin  bacalem !  "  I  mount  and  slowly  pedal  along  a 
crooked  "  fissure  "  in  the  compact  mass  of  people,  which  the  zajytiehs 
manage  to  create  by  frantically  flogging  right  and  left  before  me. 
Gaining,  at  length,  more  open  ground,  and  the  smooth  road  con- 
tinuing on,  I  speed  away  from  the  multitude,  and  the  Gaimacan 
sends  one  fleet-footed  zaptieh  after  me,  with  instructions  to  pilot 
me  back  to  Tifticjeeoghlou's  by  a  roundabout  way,  so  as  to  avoid 
returning  through  the  crowds. 

The  rabble  are  not  to  be  so  easily  deceived  and  shook  off  as 
the  Gaimacan  thinks,  however  ;  by  taking  various  short  cuts,  they 
manage  to  intercept  us,  and,  as  though  considering  the  having 
detected  and  overtaken  us  in  attempting  to  elude  them,  justifies 
them  in  taking  hberties,  their  "  Bin  bacalem !  "  now  develops  into 
the  imperious  cry  of  a  domineering  majority,  determined  upon  do- 
ing pretty  much  as  they  please.  It  is  the  worst  mob  I  have  seen  on 
the  journey,  so  far  ;  excitement  runs  high,  and  their  shouts  of  '•'  Bin 
bacalem !  "  can,  most  assuredly,  be  heard  for  miles.  We  are  en- 
veloped by  clouds  of  dust,  raised  by  the  feet  of  the  multitude  ;  the 
hot  sun  glares  down  savagely  upon  us  ;  the  poor  zaptieh,  in  heavy 


FUOM   THE  KOORDISH   CAMP  TO   YUZGAT.  363 

top-boots  and  a  brand-new  uniform,  heavy  enough  for  winter,  works 
like  a  beaver  to  protect  the  bicycle,  until,  with  perspii-ation  and 
dust,  his  face  is  streaked  and  tattooed  like  a  South  Sea  Islander's. 
Unable  to  proceed,  we  come  to  a  stand-still,  and  simply  occu2Dy 
ourselves  in  protecting  the  bicycle  from  the  crush,  and  reasoning 
with  the  mob  ;  but  the  only  satisfaction  we  obtain  in  reply  to  any- 
thing we  say  is  "  Bin  bacalem." 

One  or  two  pig-headed,  obstreperous  young  men  near  us,  em- 
boldened by  our  apparent  helplessness,  persist  in  handling  the 
bicycle.  After  being  pushed  away  several  times,  one  of  them  even 
assumes  a  menacing  attitude  toward  me  the  last  time  I  thrust  his 
meddlesome  hand  awaj'.  Under  such  circumstances  retributive 
justice,  prompt  and  impressive,  is  the  only  politic  course  to  pur- 
sue ;  so,  leaving  the  bicycle  to  the  zaptieh  a  moment,  in  the 
absence  of  a  stick,  I  feel  justified  in  favoring  the  culprit  with 
a  brief,  ^Dointed  lesson  in  the  noble  art  of  self-defence,  the  first 
boxing  lesson  ever  given  in  Yuzgat.  In  a  Western  mob  this 
■would  have  been  anything  but  an  act  of  discretion,  probably,  but 
■with  these  people  it  has  a  salutary  efiect ;  the  idea  of  attempting 
retahation  is  the  farthest  of  anything  from  their  thoughts,  and  in 
all  the  obstreperous  crowd  there  is,  perhaps,  not  one  but  what  is 
quite  delighted  at  either  seeing  or  hearing  of  me  ha^ving  thus 
chastised  one  of  their  number,  and  involuntarily  thanks  Allah  that 
it  didn't  happen  to  be  himself. 

It  would  be  useless  to  attempt  a  description  of  how  ■we  finally 
managed,  by  the  assistance  of  two  more  zaptiehs,  to  get  back  to 
Tifticjeeoghlou  Eflendi's,  both  myself  and  the  zaptieh  simply  un- 
recognizable from  dust  and  perspiration.  The  zaptieh,  having  first 
washed  the  streaks  and  tattooing  off  his  face,  now  presents  himself, 
with  the  broad,  honest  smile  of  one  who  knows  he  weU  deserves 
what  he  is  asking  for,  and  says,  "  Effendi,  backsheesh  !  " 

There  is  nothing  more  certain  than  that  the  honest  fellow  merits 
backsheesh  from  somebody  ;  it  is  also  equally  certain  that  I  am  the 
only  person  from  whom  he  stands  the  ghost  of  a  chance  of  getting 
any  ;  nevertheless,  the  idea  of  being  appealed  to  for  backsheesh, 
after  what  I  have  just  undergone,  merely  as  an  act  of  accommoda- 
tion, strikes  me  as  just  a  trifle  ridiculous,  and  the  opportunity  of 
engaging  the  grinning,  good-humored  zaptieh  in  a  little  banter  con- 
cerning the  abstract  preposterousness  of  his  expectations  is  too 
good  to  be  lost.     So,   assuming  an  air   of  astonishment,  I  reply : 


364  FEOM   SAW  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN. 

"Backsheesh!  where  is  mj/ backsheesh?  I  should  think  it's  me  that 
deserves  backsheesh  if  anybody  does  !  "  This  argument  is  entirely 
beyond  the  zaptieh's  child-like  comprehension,  however ;  he  only 
understands  by  my  manner  that  there  is  a  "  hitch  "  somewhere  ; 
and  never  was  there  a  more  broadly  good-humored  countenance, 
or  a  smile  more  expressive  of  meritoriousness,  nor  an  utterance 
more  coaxing  in  its  modulations  than  his  "E-f-fendi,  backsheesh  !  " 
as  he  repeats  the  appeal ;  the  smile  and  the  modulation  is  well 
worth  the  backsheesh. 

In  the  afternoon,  an  officer  appears  with  a  note  saying  that  the 
Mutaserif  and  a  number  of  gentlemen  would  like  to  see  me  ride 
inside  the  municipal  konak  grounds.  This  I  very  naturally  promise 
to  do,  only,  under  conditions  that  an  adequate  force  of  zaptiehs  be 
provided.  This  the  If^toseri/"' readily  agrees  to,  and  once  more  I 
venture  into  the  streets,  trundling  along  under  a  strong  escort  of 
zaptiehs  who  form  a  hollow  square  around  me.  The- people  accu- 
mulate rapidly,  as  we  progress,  and,  by  the  time  we  arrive  at  the 
konak  gate  there  is  a  regular  crush.  In  spite  of  the  frantic  ex- 
ertions of  my  escort,  the  mob  press  determinedly  forward,  in  an 
attempt  to  rush  inside  when  the  gate  is  opened  ;  instantly  I  find 
myself  and  bicycle  wedged  in  among  a  struggling  mass  of  natives ; 
a  cry  of  "  Sakin  araba  !  sakin  araba  ! "  (Take  care  !  the  bicycle  !) 
is  raised  ;  the  zaptiehs  make  a  supreme  effort,  the  gate  is  opened, 
I  am  fairly  carried  in,  and  the  gate  is  closed.  A  couple  of  dozen 
happy  mortals  have  gained  admittance  in  the  rush.  Hundreds  of 
the  better  class  natives  are  in  the  inclosure,  and  the  walls  and 
Jtieighborihg  house-tops  are  swarming  with  an  interested  audience. 

There  is  a  small  plat  of  decently  smooth  ground,  upon  which  I 
circle  around  for  a  few  minutes,  to  as  delighted  an  audience 
as  ever  collected  in  Barnum's  circus.  After  the  exhibition,  the 
Mutaserif  eyes  the  swarming  multitude  on  the  roofs  and  wall,  and 
looks  perplexed  ;  some  one  suggests  that  the  bicycle  be  locked  up 
for  the  present,  and,  when  the  crowds  have  dispersed,  it  can  be  re- 
moved without  further  excitement.  The  Jfittasen/ then  places  the 
municipal  chamber  at  my  disposal,  ordering  an  officer  to  lock  it  up 
and  give  me  the  key.  Later  in  the  afternoon  I  am  visited  by  the 
Armenian  pastor  of  Yuzgat,  and  another  young  Armenian,  who 
can  speak  a  little  English,  and  together  we  take  a  strolling  peep  at 
the  city.  The  American  missionaries  at  Kaizarieh  have  a  small 
book- store  here,  and  the  pastor  kindly  offers  me  a  New  Testament 


366  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

to  carry  along.  We  drop  in  on  several  Armenian  shopkeepers,  who 
are  introduced  as  converts  of  the  mission.  Coffee  is  supplied 
wherever  we  call.  While  sitting  down  a  minute  in  a  tailor's  stall, 
a  young  Armenian  peeps  in,  smiles,  and  indulges  in  the  pantomime 
of  rubbing  his  chin.  Asking  the  meaning  of  this,  I  am  informed 
by  the  interpreter  that  the  fellow  belongs  to  the  barber  shop  next 
door,  and  is  taking  this  method  of  reminding  me  that  I  stand  in 
need  of  his  professional  attentions,  not  having  shaved  of  late. 

There  appears  to  be  a  large  proportion  of  Circassians  in  town  ; 
a  group  of  several  wild-looking  bipeds,  armed  d  la  Anatolia,  ragged 
and  unkempt  haired  for  Circassians,  who  are  generally  respectable 
in  their  personal  appearance,  approach  us,  and  want  me  to  show 
them  the  bicycle,  on  the  strength  of  their  having  fought  against 
the  Russians  in  the  late  war.  "  I  think  they  are  liars,"  says  the 
young  Armenian,  who  speaks  English  ;  "  they  only  say  they  fought 
against  the  Russians  because  you  are  an  Englishman,  and  they 
think  you  will  show  them  the  bicycle  "  Some  one  comes  to  me 
with  old  coins  for  sale,  another  brings  a  stone  with  hieroglyphics 
on  it,  and  the  inevitable  genius  likewise  appears ;  this  time  it  is  an 
Armenian  ;  the  tremendous  ovation  I  have  received  has  filled  his 
mind  with  exaggerated  ideas  of  making  a  fortune,  by  purchasing 
the  bicycle  and  making  a  two-piastre  show  out  of  it.  He  wants  to 
know  how  much  I  will  take  for  it. 

Early  daylight  finds  me  astir  on  the  following  morning,  for  I 
have  found  it  a  desirable  thing  to  escape  from  town  ere  the  populace 
is  out  to  crowd  about  me.  Tifticjeeoghlou  Effendi's  better  half  has 
kindly  risen  at  an  unusually  early  hour,  to  see  me  off,  and  provides 
me  with  a  dozen  circular  rolls  of  hard  bread — rings  the  size  of  rope 
quoits  aboard  an  Atlantic  steamer,  which  I  string  on  Igali's  ceru- 
lean waist-scarf,  and  sliag  over  one  shoulder.  The  good  lady  lets 
me  out  of  the  gate,  and  says,  "Bin  bacalem,  Effendi."  She  hasn't 
seen  me  ride  yet.  She  is  a  motherly  old  creature,  of  Greek  ex- 
traction, and  I  naturally  feel  like  an  ingrate  of  the  meanest  type,  at 
my  inability  to  grant  her  modest  request.  Stealing  along  the  side 
streets,  I  manage  to  reach  ridable  ground,  gathering  by  the  way 
only  a  small  following  of  worthy  early  risers,  and  two  katir-jees,  who 
essay  to  follow  me  on  their  long-eared  chargers ;  but,  the  road 
being  smooth  and  level  from  the  beginning,  I  at  once  discourage 
til  em  by  a  short  spurt.  A  half -hour's  trundling  up  a  steep  hill,  and 
then  comes  a  coastable  descent  into  lower  territory.     A  conscrip- 


FROM   THE   KOORDISII   CAMP  TO   YUZGAT.  367 

tion  party  collected  from  the  neighboring  Mussulman  villages,  en 
route  to  Samsoon,  the  nearest  Black  Sea  port,  is  met  while  riding 
down  this  declivity.  lu  anticipation  of  the  Sultan's  new  uniforms 
awaiting  them  at  Constantinople,  they  have  provided  themselves 
for  the  journey  with  barely  enough  rags  to  cover  their  nakedness. 
They  are  in  high  glee  at  their  departure  for  Stamboul,  and  favor 
me  with  considerable  good-natured  chaff  as  I  wheel  past.  "  Human 
nature  is  everywhere  pretty  much  alike  the  world  over,"  I  think  to 
myself.  There  is  little  difference  between  this  regiment  of  raga- 
muffins chaffing  me  this  morning  and  the  weU-dressed  troopers  of 
Kaiser  WilUam,  bantering  me  the  day  I  wheeled  out  of  Strassburg. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THROUGH  THE  SIVAS  VILAYET  INTO  ARMENIA. 

It  is  six  hours  distant  from  Yuzgat  to  the  large  village  of 
Koehne,  as  distance  is  measured  here,  or  about  twenty-three  Eng- 
lish miles  ;  but  the  road  is  mostly  ridable,  and  I  roll  into  the  vil- 
lage in  about  three  hours  and  a  half.  Just  beyond  Koehne,  the 
roads  fork,  and  the  mudir  kindly  sends  a  mounted  zaptieh  to  guide 
me  aright,  for  fear  I  shouldn't  quite  understand  by  his  pantomimic 
explanations.  I  understand  well  enough,  though,  and  the  road 
just  here  happening  to  be  excellent  wheeling,  to  the  delight  of  the 
whole  village,  I  spurt  ahead,  outdistancing  the  zaptieh's  not  over 
sprightly  animal,  and  bowling  briskly  along  the  right  road  within 
their  range  of  vision,  for  over  a  mUe.  Soon  after  leaving  Koehne 
my  attention  is  attracted  by  a  small  cluster  of  civilized-looking 
tents,  pitched  on  the  bank  of  a  running  stream  near  the  road,  and 
from  whence  issues  the  joyous  sounds  of  mirth  and  music.  The 
road  continues  ridable,  and  I  am  wheeling  leisurely  along,  hesitat- 
ing about  whether  to  go  and  investigate  or  not,  when  a  number  of 
persons,  in  holiday  attire,  present  themselves  outside  the  tents, 
and  by  shouting  and  gesturing,  invite  me  to  pay  them  a  visit.  It 
turns  out  to  be  a  reunion  of  the  Yuzgat  branch  of  the  Pampasian- 
Pamparsan  family — an  Armenian  name  whose  representatives  in 
Armenia  and  Anatolia,  it  appears,  correspond  in  comparative 
numerical  importance  to  the  great  and  illustrious  family  of  Smiths 
in  the  United  States.  Following — or  doubtless,  more  properly, 
setting — a  worthy  example,  they  likewise  have  their  periodical  re- 
unions, where  they  eat,  drink,  spin  yarns,  sing,  and  twang  the  tune- 
ful lyre  in  frolicsome  consciousness  of  always  having  a  howhn« 
majority  over  their  less  prolific  neighbors. 

Refreshments  in  abundance  are  tendered,  and  the  usual  panto- 
mimic explanations  exchanged  between  us  ;  some  of  the  men  have 
been  honoring  the  joyful  occasion  by  a  liberal  patronage  of  the 
flowing  bowl,  and  are  already  mildly  hilarious  ;   stringed  instru- 


THEOUGH  THE   SIVAS  VILAYET  INTO  ARMENIA.        369 

ments  are  twangied  by  the  musical  members  of  the  great  family, 
■while  several  others,  misinterpreting  the  inspiration  of  raid 
punch  for  terpsichorean  talent  are  prancing  wildly  about  the  tent. 
Middle-aged  matrons  are  here  in  plenty,  housewifely  persons,  find- 
ing their  chief  enjoyment  in  catering  to  the  gastronomic  pleasures 
of  the  others  ;  while  a  score  or  two  of  blooming  maidens  stand 
coyly  aloof,  watching  the  festive  merry-makings  of  the  men  ;  their 
heads  and  necks  are  resplendent  with  bands  and  necklaces  of  gold 
coins,  it  still  being  a  custom  of  the  East  to  let  the  female  mem- 


An  Armenian   Family  Reunion, 


bers  of  a  family  wear  the  surplus  wealth  about  them  in  the  shape 
of  gold  ornaments  and  jewels,  a  custom  resulting  from  the  absence 
of  safe  investments  and  the  unstability  of  national  affairs.  Tuzgat 
enjoys  among  neighboring  cities  a  reputation  for  beautiful  women, 
and  this  auspicious  occasion  gives  me  an  excellent  opportunity  for 
drawing  my  own  conclusions.  It  is  not  fair  perhaps  to  pass  judg- 
ment on  Tuzgat's  pretensions,  by  the  damsels  of  one  family  con- 
nection, not  even  the  great  and  niimerous  Pampasian-Pamparsan 
family,  but  stiU  they  ought  to  be  at  least  a  fair  average.  They 
have  beautiful  large  black  eyes,  and  usually  a  luxuriant  head  of 
21 


370 


FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


hair  ;  but  tlieir  faces  are,  on  the  whole,  babyish  and  expression- 
less. The  Yuzgat  maiden  of  "  sweet  sixteen "  is  a  coy,  babyish 
creature,  possessed  of  a  certain  doll-like  prettiness,  but  at  twenty- 
three  is  a  rapidly  fading  flower,  and  at  thirty  is  already  beginning 
to  get  wrinkled  and  old. 

Happening  to  fall  in  with  this  festive  gathering  this  morning 
is  quite  a  gratifying  and  enlivening  surprise ;  besides  the  music 
and  dancing  and  a  substantial  breakfast  of  chicken,  boiled  mutton, 
and  rice  pillau,  it  gives  me  an  opi3ortunity  of  witnessing  an  Ar- 
menian f  amUy  reunion 
under  primitive  con- 
ditions. Watching 
over  this  peaceful  and 
gambolling  flock  of  Ar- 
menian lambkins  is  a 
lone  Circassian  watch- 
dog ;  he  is  of  a  stal- 
wart, warlike  appear- 
ance ;  and  although 
wearing  no  arms — ex- 
cept a  cavalry  sword, 
a  shorter  broad-sword, 
a  dragoon  revolver,  a 
two-foot  horse-pistol, 
and  a  double-barrelled 
shot-gun  slung  at  his 
back — the  Armenians 
seem  to  feel  perfectly 
safe  under  his  protec- 
tion. They  probably 
don't  require  any  such  protection  really  ;  they  are  nevertheless  wise 
in  employing  a  Circassian  to  guard  them,  if  for  nothing  else  for 
the  sake  of  freeing  their  own  unwarlike  minds  of  aU  disquieting  ap- 
prehensions, and  enjoying  their  family  reunion  in  the  calm  atmos- 
phere of  perfect  security ;  some  lawless  party  passing  along  the 
road  might  peradventure  drop  in  and  abuse  their  hospitality,  or 
partaking  too  freely  of  raki,  make  themselves  obnoxious,  were 
they  unprotected  ;  but  with  one  Circassian  patrolling  the  camp, 
they  are  doubly  sure  against  anything  of  the  kind. 

These  people  invite  me  to  remain  with  them  until  to-morrow ; 


Slightly  Armed. 


THBOUGII   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET   INTO   ARMENIA.         371 

but  of  course  I  excuse  myself  from  this,  and,  after  spending  a  very 
agreeable  hour  in  their  company,  take  my  departure.  The  coun- 
try develops  into  an  undulating  plateau,  which  is  under  general 
cultivation,  as  cultivation  goes  in  Asiatic  Turkey.  A  number  of 
Circassian  villages  are  scattered  over  this  upland  plain ;  most  of 
them  are  distant  from  my  road,  but  many  horsemen  are  encount- 
ered ;  they  ride  the  finest  animals  in  the  country,  and  one  natur- 
ally falls  to  wondering  how  they  manage  to  keep  so  well-dressed 
and  well-mounted,  while  rags  and  poverty  and  diminutive  donkeys 
seem  to  be^the  well-nigh  universal  rule  among  their  neighbors. 
The  Circassians  betray  more  interest  in  my  purely  personal  affairs— 
whether  I  am  Eussian  or  English,  whither  I  am  bound,  etc. — and 
less  interest  in  the  bicycle,  than  either  Turks  or  Armenians,  and 
seem  altogether  of  a  more  reserved  disposition  ;  I  generally  have 
as  little  conversation  with  them  as  possible,  confining  myself  to 
letting  them  know  I  am  English  and  not  Russian,  and  replying 
"  Turkchi  binmus  "  (I  don't  understand)  to  other  questions  ;  they 
have  a  look  about  them  that  makes  one  apprehensive  as  to  the  dis- 
interestedness of  their  wanting  to  know  whither  I  am  bound — appre- 
hensive that  their  object  is  to  find  out  where  three  or  four  of  them 
could  "  see  me  later."  I  see  but  few  Circassian  women  ;  what  few 
I  approach  sufficiently  near  to  observe  are  all  more  or  less  pleasant- 
faced,  prepossessing  females  ;  many  have  blue  eyes,  which  is  very 
rare  among  their  neighbors ;  the  men  average  quite  as  handsome 
as  the  women,  and  they  have  a  peculiar  dare-devil  expression  of 
countenance  that  makes  them  distinguishable  immediately"  from 
either  Turk  or  Armenian  ;  they  look  like  men  who  wouldn't  hesi- 
tate about  undertaking  any  devilment  they  felt  themselves  equal 
to  for  the  sake  of  plunder.  They  are  very  like  their  neighbors, 
however,  in  one  respect ;  such  among  them  as  take  any  great  in- 
terest in  my  extraordinary  outfit  find  it  entirely  beyond  their  com- 
prehension ;  the  bicycle  is  a  Gordian  knot  too  intricate  for  their 
semi-civiUzed  minds  to  unravel,  and  there  are  no  Alexanders 
among  them  to  think  of  cutting  it.  Before  they  recover  from  their 
first  astonishment  I  have  disappeared. 

The  road  continues  for  the  most  part  ridable  until  about  2  p.m., 
when  I  arrive  at  a  mountainous  region  of  rocky  ridges,  covered 
chiefly  with  a  growth  of  scrub-oak.  Upon  reaching  the  summit 
of  one  of  these  ridges,  I  observe  some  distance  ahead  what  appears 
to  be  a  tremendous  field  of  large  cabbages,  stretching  away  in 


372  FROM    SAN   FKANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

a  northeasterly  direction  almost  to  the  horizon  of  one's  vision ; 
the  view  presents  the  striking  appearance  of  large  compact  cab- 
bage-heads, thickly  dotting  a  well-cultivated  area  of  clean  black 
loam,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  rocky,  uncultivatable  wilds.  Fif- 
teen minutes  later  I  am  picking  my  way  through  this  "  cultivated 
field,"  which,  upon  closer  acquaintance,  proves  to  be  a  smooth 
lava-bed,  and  the  "cabbages"  are  nothing  more  or  less  than  boul- 
ders of  singular  uniformity  ;  and  what  is  equally  curious,  they  are 
all  covered  with  a  growth  of  moss,  while  the  volcanic  bed  they 
repose  on  is  perfectly  naked. 

Beyond  this  singular  area,  the  country  continues  wild  and  moun- 
tainous, with  no  habitations  near  the  road  ;  and  thus  it  con- 
tinues until  some  time  after  night-fall,  when  I  emerge  upon  a  few 
scattering  wheat-fields.  The  baying  of  dogs  in  the  distance  indi- 
cates the  presence  of  a  village  somewhere  around  ;  but  having 
plenty  of  bread  on  which  to  sup  I  once  again  determine  upon 
studying  astronomy  behind  a  wheat-shock.  It  is  a  glorious  moon- 
light night,  but  the  altitude  of  the  country  hereabouts  is  not  less 
than  six  thousand  feet,  and  the  chilliness  of  the  atmosphere,  al- 
ready apparent,  bodes  ill  for  anything  like  a  comfortable  night ; 
but  I  scarcely  anticipate  being  disturbed  by  anything  save  atmos- 
pheric conditions.  I  am  rolled  up  in  my  tent  instead  of  under  it, 
slumbering  as  lightly  as  men  are  wont  to  slumber  under  these  un- 
favorable conditions,  when,  about  eleven  o'clock,  the  unearthly 
creaking  of  native  arabas  approaching  arouses  me  from  my  lethar- 
gical condition.  Judging  from  the  sounds,  they  appear  to  be  mak- 
ing a  bee-line  for  my  position  ;  but  not  caring  to  voluntarily  reveal 
my  presence,  I  simply  remain  quiet  and  listen.  It  soon  becomes 
evident  that  they  are  a  party  of  villagers,  coming  to  load  up  their 
bufialo  arabas  by  moonlight  with  these  very  shocks  of  wheat.  One 
of  the  arahas  now  approaches  the  shock  which  conceals  my  recum- 
bent form,  and  where  the  pale  moonbeams  are  coquettishly  ogling 
the  nickel-plated  portions  of  my  wheel,  making  it  conspicuously 
scintillant  by  their  attentions. 

Hoping  the  araha  may  be  going  to  pass  by,  and  that  my  pres- 
ence may  escape  the  driver's  notice,  I  hesitate  even  yet  to  reveal  my- 
self ;  but  the  araha  stops,  and  I  can  observe  the  driver's  frightened 
expression  as  he  suddenly  becomes  aware  of  the  presence  of  strange, 
supernatural  objects.  At  the  same  moment  I  rise  up  in  my  wind- 
ing-sheet-like covering ;  the  man  utters  a  wild  yell,  and  abandoning 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET  INTO   ARMENIA.         373 

the  araba,  vanishes  like  a  deer  in  the  directiqn  of  his  companions. 
It  is  an  unenviable  situation  to  find  one's  self  in ;  if  I  boldly  approach 
them,  these  people,  not  being  able  to  ascertain  my  character  in  the 
moonlight,  would  be  quite  likely  to  discharge  their  fire-arms  at  me 
in  their  fright ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  I  remain  under  cover,  they 
might  also  try  the  experiment  of  a  shot  before  venturing  to  ap- 
proach the  deserted  buffaloes,  who  are  complacently  chewing  the 
cud  on  the  spot  where  their  chicken-hearted  driver  took  to  his 
heels. 

Under  the  circumstances  I  think  it  best  to  strike  off  toward  the 
road,  leaving  them  to  draw  their  own  conclusions  as  to  whether  I 
am  Sheitan  himself,  or  merely  a  plain,  inoffensive  hobgoblin.  But 
while  gathering  up  my  effects,  one  heroic  individual  ventures  to 
approach  part  way  and  open  up  a  shouting  inquiry  ;  my  answers, 
though  unintelligible  to  him  in  the  main,  satisfy  him  that  I  am  at 
all  events  a  human  being  ;  there  are  six  of  them,  and  in  a  few  min- 
utes after  the  ignominious  flight  of  the  driver,  they  are  all  gathered 
around  me,  as  much  interested  and  nonplussed  at  the  appearance 
of  myself  and  bicycle  as  a  party  of  Nebraska  homesteaders  might 
be  had  they,  under  similar  circumstances,  discovered  a  turbaned 
old  Turk  complacently  enjoying  a  nargileh. 

No  sooner  do  their  apprehensions  concerning  my  probable  war- 
like character  and  capacity  become  allayed,  than  they  get  altogether 
too  familiar  and  inquisitive  about  my  packages  ;  and  I  detect  one 
venturesome  kleptomaniac  surreptitiously  unfastening  a  strap  when 
he  fancies  I  am  not  noticing.  Moreover,  laboring  under  the  im- 
pression that  I  don't  understand  a  word  they  are  saying,  I  observe 
they  are  commenting  in  language  smacking  unmistakably  of  covet- 
ousness,  as  to  the  probable  contents  of  my  Whitehouse  leather 
case  ;  some  think  it  is  sure  to  contain  choRh  para  (much  money), 
while  others  suggest  that  I  am  a  postaya  (courier),  and  that  it  con- 
tains letters.  Under  these  alarming  circumstances  there  is  only 
one  way  to  manage  these  overgrown  children  ;  that  is,  to  make 
them  afraid  of  you  forthwith  ;  so,  shoving  the  strap-unfastener 
roughly  away,  I  imperatively  order  the  whole  covetous  crew  to 
"  haidi  !  "  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  they  betake  themselves 
off  to  their  work,  it  being  an  inborn  trait  of  their  character  to  me- 
chanically obey  an  authoritative  command.  Following  them  to 
their  other  arabas,  I  find  that  they  have  brought  quilts  along,  in- 
tending, after  loading  up  to  sleep  in  the  field  until  daylight.     Se- 


374  FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

lecting  a  good  heavy  quilt  with  as  little  ceremony  as  though  it  were 
my  own  property,  I  take  it  and  the  bicj'cle  to  another  shock,  and 
curl  myself  up  warm  and  comfortable  ;  once  or  twice  the  owner  of 
the  coverlet  approaches  quietly,  just  near  enough  to  ascertain  that 
I  am  not  intending  making  off  with  his  property,  but  there  is  not 
the  slightest  danger  of  being  disturbed  or  molested  in  any  way  till 
morning  ;  thus,  in  this  curious  round-about  manner,  does  fortune 
provide  me  with  the  wherewithal  to  pass  a  comparatively  comfort- 
able night.  "  Eather  arbitrary  proceedings  to  take  a  quilt  without 
asking  permission,''  some  might  think  ;  but  the  owner  thinks  noth- 
ing of  the  kind  ;  it  is  quite  customary  for  travellers  of  their  own 
nation  to  help  themselves  in  this  way,  and  the  villagers  have  come 
to  regard  it  as  quite  a  natural  occurrence. 

At  dayhght  I  am  again  on  the  move,  and  sunrise  finds  me  busy 
making  an  outline  sketch  of  the  ruins  of  an  ancient  castle,  that  oc- 
cupies, I  should  imagine,  one  of  the  most  impregnable  positions  in 
all  Asia  Minor  ;  a  regular  Gibraltar.  It  occupies  the  summit  of  a 
precipitous  detached  mountain  peak,  which  is  accessible  only  from 
one  point,  aU  the  other  sides  presenting  a  sheer  precipice  of  rock  ; 
it  forms  a  conspicuous  feature  of  the  landscape  for  many  miles 
around,  and  situated  as  it  is  amid  a  wilderness  of  rugged  brush- 
covered  heights,  admirably  suited  for  ambuscades,  it  was  doubtless 
a  very  important  position  at  one  time.  It  probably  belongs  to  the 
Byzantine  period,  and  if  the  number  of  old  graves  scattered  among 
the  hills  indicate  anything,  it  has  in  its  day  been  the  theatre  of  stir- 
ring tragedy.  An  hour  after  leaving  the  frowning  battlements  of 
the  grim  old  relic  behind,  I  arrive  at  a  cluster  of  four  rook  houses, 
which  are  apparently  occupied  by  a  sort  of  a  patriarchal  family  con- 
sisting of  a  turbaned  old  Turk  and  his  two  generations  of  descend- 
ants. The  old  fellow  is  seated  on  a  rock,  smoking  a  cigarette  and 
endeavoring  to  coax  a  little  comfort  from  the  slanting  rays  of  the 
morning  sun,  and  I  straightway  approach  him  and  broach  the  all- 
important  subject  of  refreshments. 

He  turns  out  to  be  a  fanatical  old  gentleman,  one  of  those  old- 
school  Mussulmans  who  have  neither  eye  nor  ear  for  anything  but 
the  Mohammedan  religion  ;  I  have  irreverently  interrupted  him  in 
his  morning  meditations,  it  seems,  and  he  administers  a  rebuke  in 
the  form  of  a  sidewise  glance,  such  as  a  Pharisee  might  be  expected 
to  bestow  on  a  Cannibal  Islander  venturing  to  approach  him,  and 
delivers   himself  of  two   deep-fetched   sighs  of  "Allah,    Allah!" 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS  VILAYET  INTO   ARMENIA.        375 

Anybody  would  think  from  his  actions  that  the  sanctimonious  old 
man — ikiu  (five  feet  three)  had  made  the  pilgrimage  to  Mecca  a 
dozen  times,  whereas  he  has  evidently  not  even  earned  the  privilege 
of  wearing  a  green  turban  ;  he  has  neither  been  to  Mecca  himself 
during  his  whole  unprofitable  life  nor  sent  a  substitute,  and  he 
now  thinks  of  gaining  a  nice  numerous  harem,  and  a  walled-in 
garden,  with  trees  and  fountains,  cucumbers  and  carpooses,  in  the 
land  of  the  kara  ghuz  hiz,  by  cultivating  the  spirit  of  fanaticism  at 
the  eleventh  hour.  I  feel  too  independent  this  morning  to  sacri- 
fice any  of  the  wellnigh  invisible  remnant  of  dignity  remaining 
from  the  respectable  quantity  with  which  I  started  into  Asia,  for 
I  still  have  a  couple  of  the  wheaten  "  quoits "  I  brought  from 
Yuzgat ;  so,  leaving  the  ancient  Mussulman  to  Lis  meditations,  I 
push  on  over  the  hills,  when,  coming  to  a  spring,  I  eat  my  frugal 
breakfast,  soaking  the  unbiteable  "quoits  "  in  the  water. 

After  getting  beyond  this  hilly  region,  I  emerge  upon  a  level 
plateau  of  considerable  extent,  across  which  very  fair  wheeling  is 
found  ;  but  before  noon  the  inevitable  mountains  present  them- 
selves again,  and  some  of  the  acclivities  are  trundleable  only  by  re- 
peating the  stair-climbing  process  of  the  Kara  Su  Pass.  Necessity 
forces  me  to  seek  dinner  at  a  village  where  abject  poverty,  beyond 
anything  hitherto  encountered,  seems  to  exist.  A  decently  large 
fig-leaf,  without  anything  else,  would  be  eminently  preferable  to 
the  tattered  remnants  hanging  about  these  people,  and  among  the 
smaller  children  puris  naiuralis  is  the  rule.  It  is  also  quite  evi- 
dent that  few  of  them  ever  take  a  bath  ;  as  there  is  plenty  of  water 
about  them,  this  doubtless  comes  of  the  pure  contrariness  of  human 
nature  in  the  absence  of  social  obligations.  Their  religion  teaches 
these  people  that  they  ought  to  bathe  every  day ;  consequently, 
they  never  bathe  at  all.  There  is  a  small  threshing-floor  handy, 
and,  taking  pity  on  their  wretched  condition,  I  hesitate  not  to 
"  drive  dull  care  away  "  from  them  for  a  few  minutes,  by  giving 
them  an  exhibition ;  not  that  there  is  any  "  dull  care  "  among  them, 
though,  after  all ;  for,  in  spite  of  desperate  poverty,  they  know 
more  contentment  than  the  well-fed,  respectably-dressed  mechanic 
of  the  Western  World.  It  is,  however,  the  contentment  born  of 
not  realizing  their  own  condition,  the  bliss  that  comes  of  ignorance. 

They  search  the  entire  village  for  eatables,  but  nothing  is  readily 
obtainable  but  bread.  A  few  gaunt,  angular  fowls  are  scratching 
about,    but   they  have   a   beruffled,   disreputable   appearance,   as 


376  FROM   SAN   PKAlSrCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

though  their  lives  had  been  a  continuous  struggle  against  being 
caught  and  devoured  ;  moreover,  I  don't  care  to  wait  around  three 
hours  on  purpose  to  pass  judgment  on  these  people's  cooking. 
Eggs  there  are  none ;  they  are  devoured,  I  fancy,  almost  before 
they  are  laid.  Finally,  while  making  the  best  of  bread  and  water, 
which  is  hardly  made  more  palatable  by  the  appearance  of  the  peo- 
ple watching  me  feed — a  woman  in  an  airy,  fairy  costume,  that  is 
little  better  than  no  costume  at  all,  comes  forward,  and  contributes  a 
small  bowl  of  yaort  ;  but,  unfortuntaely,  this  is  old  yaort,  yaort  that 
is  in  the  sere  and  yellow  stage  of  its  usefulness  as  human  food ; 
and  although  these  people  doubtless  consume  it  thus,  I  prefer  to 
wait  until  something  more  acceptable  and  less  odoriferous  turns 
up.  I  miss  the  genial  hospitality  of  the  gentle  Koords  to-day  !  In- 
stead of  heaping  plates  oi  pillau,  and  bowls  of  wholesome  ne-^  yaort, 
fickle  fortune  brings  me  nothing  but  an  exclusive  diet  of  bread  and 
water. 

My  road,  this  afternoon,  is  a  tortuous  donkey-trail,  intersecting 
ravines  with  well-nigh  perpendicular  sides,  and  rocky  ridges,  cov- 
ered with  a  stunted  growth  of  cedar  and  scrub-oak.  The  higher 
mountains  round  about  are  heavily  timbered  with  pine  and  cedar. 
A  large  forest  on  a  mountain-slope  is  on  fire,  and  I  pass  a  camp  of 
people  who  have  been  driven  out  of  their  permanent  abode  by  the 
flames.  Fortunately,  they  have  saved  everything  except  their 
naked  houses  and  their  grain.  They  can  easily  build  new  houses, 
and  their  neighbors  will  give  or  lend  them  sufficient  grain  to  tide 
them  over  till  another  harvest. 

Toward  sundown  the  hilly  country  terminates,  and  I  descend 
into  a  broad  cultivated  valley,  through  which  is  a  very  good 
wagon-road  ;  and  I  have  the  additional  satisfaction  of  learning  that 
it  will  so  continue  clear  into  Sivas,  a  wagon-road  having  been 
made  from  Sivas  into  this  forest  to  enable  the  people  to  haul  wood 
and  building-timber  on  their  ambas.  Arriving  at  a  good-sized 
and  comparatively  well-to-do  Mussulman  village,  I  obtain  an  ample 
supper  of  eggs  and  pillau,  and,  after  binning  over  and  over  again 
until  the  most  unconscionable  Turk  among  them  aU  can  bring  him- 
self to  importune  me  no  more,  I  obtain  a  little  peace.  Supper  for 
two,  together  with  the  tough  hill-climbing  to-day,  and  insufficient 
sleep  last  night,  produces  its  natural  effect ;  I  quietly  doze  off  to 
sleep  whUe  sitting  on  the  divan  of  a  small  khan,  which  might  very 
appropriately  be  called  an  open  shed.     Soon  I  am  awakened  ;  they 


TIIROUGn  THE  8IVAS  VILAYET  INTO   AEMENIA.         377 

want  me  to  accommodate  them  by  binning  once  more  before  tliey 
retire  for  the  night.  As  the  moon  is  shining  brightly,  I  offer  no 
objections,  knowing  that  to  grant  the  request  will  be  the  quickest 
way  to  get  rid  of  their  worry.  They  then  provide  me  with  quUts, 
and  I  spend  the  night  in  the  khan  alone.  I  am  soon  asleep,  but 
one  habitually  sleeps  lightly  under  these  strange  and  ever-varying 
conditions,  and  several  times  I  am  awakened  by  dogs  invading 
the  khan  and  sniffing  about  my  couch. 

My  daily  experience  among  these  people  is  teaching  me  the 
commendable  habit  of  rising  with  the  lark  ;  not  that  I  am  an  en- 
thusiastic student,  or  even  a  willing  one — be  it  observed  that  few 
people  are — but  it  is  a  case  of  either  turning  out  and  sneaking  oflf  be- 
fore the  inhabitants  are  astir,  or  to  be  worried  from  one's  waking 
moments  to  the  departure  from  the  village,  and  of  the  two  evils 
one  comes  finally  to  prefer  the  early  rising.  One  can  always  obtain 
something  to  eat  before  starting  by  waiting  till  an  hour  after  sun- 
rise, but  I  have  had  quite  enough  of  these  people's  importunities 
to  make  breakfasting  with  them  a  secondary  consideration,  and  so 
pull  out  at  early  daylight.  The  road  is  exceptionally  good,  but  an 
east  wind  rises  with  the  sun  and  quickly  develops  into  a  stiff 
breeze  that  renders  riding  against  it  anything  but  child's  play  ;  no 
rose  is  to  be  expected  without  a  thorn,  nevertheless  it  is  rather 
aggravating  to  have  the  good  road  and  the  howling  head-wind 
happen  together,  especially  in  traversing  a  country  where  good 
roads  are  the  exception  instead  of  the  rule. 

About  eight  o'clock  I  reach  a  village  situated  at  the  entrance  to 
a  rocky  defile,  vnih  a  babbling  brook  dancing  through  the  space 
between  its  two  divisions.  Upon  inquiring  for  refreshments,  a  man 
immediately  orders  his  wife  to  bring  me  pillau.  For  some  reason 
or  other — perhaps  the  poor  woman  has  none  prepared ;  who  knows? 
— the  woman,  instead  of  obeying  the  command  like  a  "  guid  wifey," 
enters  upon  a  wordy  demurrer,  whereupon  her  husband  borrows  a 
hoe-handle  from  a  bystander  and  advances  to  chastise  her  for  daring 
to  thus  hesitate  about  obeying  his  orders  ;  the  woman  retreats  pre- 
cipitately into  the  house,  heaping  Turkish  epithets  on  her  devoted 
husband's  head.  This  woman  is  evidently  a  regular  termagant,  or 
she  would  never  have  used  such  violent  language  to  her  husband 
in  the  presence  of  a  stranger  and  the  whole  village  ;  some  day,  if 
she  doesn't  be  more  reasonable,  her  husband,  instead  of  satisfying 
his  outraged  feelings  by  chastising  her  with  a  hoe-handle,  will,  in  a 


378  FROM  SA]sr  feancisco  to  teheean. 

moment  of  passion,  bid  her  begone  from  his  house,  which  in  Turk- 
ish law  constitutes  a  legal  separation ;  if  the  command  be  given 
in  the  presence  of  a  competent  witness  it  is  irrevocable.  Seeing 
me  thus  placed,  as  it  were,  in  an  embarrassing  situation,  another 
woman — dear,  thoughtful  creature  ! — fetches  me  enough  wheat 
pillau  to  feed  a  mule,  and  a  nice  bowl  of  yaort,  off  which  I  make  a 
substantial  breakfast. 

Near  by  where  I  am  eating  are  five  industrious  maidens,  pre- 
paring cracked  or  broken  wheat  by  a  novel  and  interesting  pro- 
cess, that  has  hitherto  failed  to  come  under  my  observation ; 
perhaps  it  is  peculiar  to  the  Sivas  vilayet,  which  I  have  now 
entered.  A  large  rock  is  hollowed  out  like  a  shallow  druggist's 
mortar  ;  wheat  is  put  in,  and  several  girls  (sometimes  as  many  as 
eight,  I  am  told  by  the  American  missionaries  at  Sivas)  gather 
in  a  circle  about  it,  and  pound  the  wheat  with  light,  long-headed 
mauls  or  beetles,  striking  in  regular  succession,  as  the  reader 
has  probably  seen  a  gang  of  circus  roustabouts  driving  tent-pins. 
When  I  first  saw  circus  tent-pins  driven  in  this  manner,  a  few 
years  ago,  I  remember  hearing  on-lookers  remarking  it  as  quite 
novel  and  wonderful  how  so  many  could  be  striking  the  same  peg 
without  their  swinging  sledges  coming  into  collision  ;  but  that  very 
same  performance  has  been  practised  by  the  maidens  hereabout, 
it  seems,  from  time  immemorial — another  proof  that  there  is  noth- 
ing new  under  the  sun. 

Ten  miles  of  good  riding,  and  I  wheel  into  the  considerable 
town  of  Yennikhan,  a  place  sufficiently  important  to  maintain  a 
public  coffee-Mara  and  several  small  shops.  Here  I  take  aboard  a 
pocketful  of  fine  large  pears,  and  after  wheeling  a  couple  of  miles 
to  a  secluded  spot,  halt  for  the  purpose  of  shifting  the  pears  from 
my  pocket  to  where  they  will  be  better  appreciated.  Ere  I  have 
finished  the  second  pear,  a  gentle  goatherd,  who  from  an  ad- 
jacent hiU.  observed  me  alight,  appears  upon  the  scene  and  waits 
around,  with  the  laudable  intention  of  further  enlightening  his 
mind  when  I  i-emount.  He  is  carrj'ing  a  musical  instrument 
something  akin  to  a  flute  ;  it  is  a  mere  hollow  tube  with  the 
customary  finger-holes,  but  it  is  blown  at  the  end  ;  having  neither 
reed  nor  mouth-piece  of  any  description,  it  requires  a  peculiar 
sidewise  application  of  the  Ups,  and  is  not  to  be  blown  readily 
by  a  novice.  When  properly  played,  it  produces  soft,  melodious 
music  that,  to  say  nothing  else,  must  exert  a  gentle  soothing  in- 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET  INTO   ARMENIA.         379 

fluence  on  the  wild,  turbulent  souls  of  a  herd  of  goats.  The  goat- 
herd offers  me  a  cake  of  ekmek  out  of  his  wallet,  as  a  sort  of  a 
peace-offering,  but  thanks  to  a  generous  breakfast,  music  hath 
more  charms  at  present  than  diy  ekmek,  and  handing  him  a  pear, 
I  strike  up  a  bargain  by  which  he  is  to  entertain  me  with  a  solo 
until  I  am  ready  to  start,  when  of  course  he  will  be  amply  recom- 
pensed by  seeing  me  bin  ;  the  bargain  is  agreed  to,  and  the  solo 
duly  played. 

East  of  Yennikhan,  the  road  develops  into  an  excellent  mac- 
adamized highway,  on  which  I  find  plenty  of  genuine  amusement 
by  electrifying  the  natives  whom  I  chance  to  meet  or  overtake. 
Creeping  noiselessly  up  behind  an  unsuspecting  donkey-driver, 
until  quite  close,  I  suddenly  reveal  my  presence.  Looking  round 
and  observing  a  strange,  unearthly  combination,  apparently  swoop- 
ing down  upon  him,  the  affrighted  katlr-jee's  first  impulse  is  to 
seek  refuge  in  flight,  not  infrequently  bolting  clear  off  the  road- 
way, before  venturing  upon  taking  a  second  look.  Sometimes  I 
simply  put  on  a  spurt,  and  whisk  past  at  a  fifteen  mile  pace. 
Looking  back,  the  katir-jee  generally  seems  rooted  to  the  spot  with 
astonishment,  and  his  utter  inabiUty  to  comprehend.  These  men 
will  have  marvellous  tales  to  tell  in  their  respective  villages  con- 
cerning what  they  saw  ;  unless  other  bicycles  are  introduced,  the 
time  the  "  Ingilisin  "  went  through  the  country  with  his  wonder- 
ful araba  will  become  a  red-letter  event  in  the  memory  of  the  peo- 
ple along  my  route  through  Asia  Minor.  Crossing  the  Yeldez 
L:mak  River,  on  a  stone  bridge,  I  follow  along  the  valley  of  the 
head-waters  of  our  old  acquaintance,  the  Kizil  Irmak,  and  at  three 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  roll  into  Sivas,  having  wheeled  nearly 
fifty  miles  to-day,  the  last  forty  of  which  will  compare  favorably  in 
smoothness,  though  not  in  levelness,  with  any  forty-mile  stretch  I 
know  of  in  the  United  States.  From  Angora  I  have  brought  a 
letter  of  introduction  to  Mr.  Ernest  Weakley,  a  young  Englishman, 
engaged,  together  with  Mr.  Eodigas,  a  Belgian  gentleman,  for  the 
Ottoman  Government,  in  collecting  the  Sivas  vilayet's  proportion  of 
the  Russian  indemnity  ;  and  I  am  soon  installed  in  hospitable  quai-- 
ters.  Sivas  artisans  enjoy  a  certain  amount  of  celebrity  among 
their  compatriots  of  other  Asia  Minor  cities  for  unusual  skUfulness, 
particularly  in  making  filigree  silver  work.  Toward  evening  myself 
and  Mr.  Weakley  take  a  stroll  through  the  silversmiths'  quarters. 
The  quarters  consist  of  twenty  or  thirty  small  wooden  shops,  sur- 


380  FKOM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN. 

rounding  an  oblong  court ;  spreading  willows  and  a  tiny  rivulet 
running  through  it  give  the  place  a  semi-rural  appearance.  In  the 
little  open-front  workshops,  which  might  more  appropriately  be 
called  stalls,  Armenian  silversmiths  are  seated  cross-legged,  some 
working  industriously  at  their  trade,  others  gossiping  and  sipping 
coffee  with  friends  or  purchasers. 

"  Doesn't  it  call  up  ideas  of  what  you  conceive  the  quarters  of 
the  old  alchemists  to  have  been  hundreds  of  years  ago  ?  "  asks  my 
companion.  "  Precisely  what  I  was  on  the  eve  of  suggesting  to 
you,"  I  reply,  and  then  we  drop  into  one  of  the  shops,  sip  coffee 
with  the  old  silversmith,  and  examine  his  filigree  jewelry.  There 
is  nothing  denoting  remarkable  skill  about  any  of  it ;  an  intricate 
pattern  of  theu*  jewelry  simply  represents  a  great  expenditure  of 
time  and  Asiatic  patience,  and  the  finishing  of  clasps,  rivetting, 
etc.,  is  conspicuously  rough.  Sivas  was  also  formerly  a  seat  of 
learning  ;  the  imposing  gates,  with  portions  of  the  fronts  of  the 
old  Arabic  universities  are  still  standing,  with  sufficient  beauti- 
ful arabesque  designs  in  glazed  tUe-work  stiU  undestroyed,  to 
proclaim  eloquently  of  departed  glories.  The  squaHd  mud  hov- 
els of  refugees  from  the  Caucasus  novv  occupy  the  interior  of 
these  venerable  edifices ;  ragged  urchins  romp  with  dogs  and 
baby  buffaloes  where  pashas'  sons  formerly  congregated  to 
learn  wisdom  from  the  teachings  of  their  prophet,  and  now 
what  remains  of  the  intricate  arabesque  designs,  worked  out  in 
small,  bright-colored  tiles,  that  once  formed  the  glorious  ceil- 
ing of  the  dome,  seems  to  look  down  reproachfully,  and  yet  sor- 
rovsrfully,  upon  the  wretched  heaps  of  tezeh  placed  beneath  it  for 
shelter. 

I  am  remaining  over  one  day  at  Sivas,  and  in  the  morning  we 
call  on  the  American  missionaries.  Mr.  Perry  is  at  home,  and 
hopes  I  am  going  to  stay  a  week,  so  that  they  can  "  sort  of  make 
up  for  the  discomforts  of  journeying  through  the  country  ; "  Mi-. 
Hubbard  and  the  ladies  of  the  Mission  are  out  of  town,  but  will  be 
back  this  evening.  After  dinner  we  go  round  to  the  government 
konak  and  call  on  the  Vali,  Hallil  Eifaat  Pasha,  whom  Mr.  Weakley 
describes  beforehand  as  a  very  practical  man,  fond  of  mechanical 
contrivances  ;  and  who  would  never  forgive  him  if  he  allowed  me 
to  leave  Sivas  with  the  bicycle  without  paying  him  a  visit.  The 
usual  rigmarole  of  salaams,  cigarettes,  coffee,  compliments,  and 
questioning  are  gone  through  with  ;  the  Vali  is  a  jolly-faced,  good- 


THROUGH   THE  SIVAS   VILAYET  INTO  ARMENIA.         381 

natured  man,  and  is  evidently  much  interested  in  my  companion's 
description  of  the  bicycle  and  my  journey. 

Of  course  I  don't  forget  to  praise  the  excellence  of  the  road 
from  Yenuikhan  ;  I  can  conscientiously  tell  him  that  it  is  superior 
to  anything  I  have  wheeled  over  south  of  the  Balkans  ;  the  Pasha 
is  delighted  at  hearing  this,  and  beaming  joyously  over  his  spec- 
tacles, his  fat  jolly  face  a  rotund  picture  of  satisfaction,  he  says  to 
Mr.  Weakley  :  "  You  see,  he  praises  up  our  roads ;  and  he  ought 
to  knovr,  he  has  travelled  on  wagon  roads  half  way  round  the 
world."  The  interview  ends  by  the  Vali  inviting  me  to  ride  the 
bicycle  out  to  his  country  residence  this  evening,  giving  the  or- 
der for  a  squad  of  zaptiehs  to  escort  me  out  of  town  at  the  ap- 
pointed time.  "  The  Vali  is  one  of  the  most  energetic  pashas  in 
Turkey,"  says  Mr.  Weakley,  as  we  take  our  departure.  "You 
would  scarcely  believe  that  he  has  established  a  small  weekly  news- 
paper here,  and  makes  it  self-supporting  into  the  bargain,  would 
you?" 

"  I  confess  I  don't  see  how  he  manages  it  among  these  people," 
I  reply,  quite  truthfully,  for  these  are  anything  but  newspaper- 
supporting  people  ;  "  how  does  he  manage  to  make  it  self-sup- 
porting ?  " 

"  Why,  he  makes  every  employ^  of  the  government  subscribe 
for  a  certain  number  of  copies,  and  the  subscription  price  is  kept 
back  out  of  their  salaries  ;  for  instance,  the  niulazim  of  zaptiehs 
would  have  to  take  half  a  dozen  copies,  the  mutaserif  a  dozen, 
etc.  ;  if  from  any  unforeseen  cause  the  current  expenses  are 
found  to  be  more  than  the  income,  a  few  additional  copies  are 
saddled  on  each  '  subscriber.' "  Before  leaving  Sivas,  I  arrive  at 
the  conclusion  that  Hallil  Eifaat  Pasha  knows  just  about  what's 
what ;  while  administering  the  affairs  of  the  Sivas  vilayet  in  a  man- 
ner that  has  gained  him  the  good-wiU  of  the  population  at  large, 
he  hasn't  neglected  his  opportunities  at  the  Constantinople  end  of 
the  rope  ;  more  than  one  beautiful  Circassian  girl  has,  I  am  told, 
been  forwarded  to  the  Sultan's  harem  by  the  enterprising  and 
sagacious  Sivas  Vali ;  consequently  he  holds  "  trump  cards,"  so  to 
speak,  both  in  the  province  and  the  palace. 

Promptly  at  the  hour  appointed  the  squad  of  zaptiehs  arrive  ; 
Mr.  Weakley  mounts  his  servant  on  a  prancing  Arab  charger,  and 
orders  him  to  manoeuvre  the  horse  so  as  to  clear  the  way  in  front ; 
the  za2}tiehs  commence  their  flogging,  and  in  the  middle  of  the 


382 


FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


cleared  space  I  trundle  the  bicycle.  While  making  our  way- 
through  the  streets,  Mr.  Hubbard,  who,  with  the  ladies,  has  just 
returned  to  the  city,  is  encountered  on  the  "way  to  invite  Mr. 
Weakley  and  myself  to  supper  ;  as  he  pushes  his  way  through  the 
crowd  and  reaches  my  side,  he  pronounces  it  the  worst  rabble  he 
ever  saw  in  the  streets  of  Sivas,  and  he  has  been  stationed  here 
over  twelve  years.  Once  clear  of  the  streets,  I  mount  and  soon 
outdistance  the  crowd,  though  stUl  followed  by  a  number  of  horse- 
men. Part  way  out  we  wait  for  the  Vah's  state  carriage,  in  which 
he  daily  rides  between  the  city  and  his  residence.     While  waiting, 


A  Hafem   Beauty. 


a  terrific  squall  of  wind  and  dust  comes  howling  from  the  direction 
we  are  going,  and  while  it  is  stiU  blowing  great  guns,  the  Vali 
and  his  mounted  escort  arrive.  His  Excellency  alights  and  ex- 
amines the  Columbia  with  much  interest,  and  then  requests  me  to 
ride  on  immediately  in  advance  of  the  carriage.  The  grade  is 
slightly  against  me,  and  the  whistling  wind  seems  to  be  shrieking 
a  defiance  ;  but  by  superhuman  efforts,  almost,  I  pedal  ahead  and 
manage  to  keep  in  front  of  his  horses  all  the  way.  The  distance 
from  Sivas  is  four  and  a  quarter  miles  by  the  cyclometer  ;  this  is 
the  first  time  it  has  ever  been  measured. 


THROUGH   THE  SIVAS  VILAYET   INTO   ARMENIA.        383 

We  are  ushered  into  a  room  quite  elegantly  furnished,  and  light 
refreshments  served.  Observing  my  partiality  for  vishner-sa,  the 
Governor  kindly  offers  me  a  flask  of  the  syrup  to  take  along ;  which 
I  am,  however,  reluctantly  compelled  to  refuse,  owing  to  my  inabil- 
ity to  carry  it.  Here,  also,  we  meet  Djaved  Bey,  the  Pasha's  son,  who 
has  recently  returned  from  Constantinople,  and  who  says  he  saw  me 
riding  at  Prinkipo.  The  Vali  gets  down  on  his  hands  and  knees  to 
examine  the  route  of  my  journey  on  a  map  of  the  world  which  he 
spreads  out  on  the  carpet ;  he  grows  quite  enthusiastic,  and  exclaims, 
"  Wonderful !  "  "  Very  wonderful ! "  says  Djaved  Bey  ;  "  when  you 
get  back  to  America  they  will — build  you  a  statue."  Mr.  Hubbard 
has  mounted  a  horse  and  followed  us  to  the.Vali's  residence,  and 
at  the  approach  of  dusk  we  take  our  departure  ;  the  wind  is  favor- 
able for  the  return,  as  is  also  the  gradient ;  ere  my  two  friends 
have  unhitched  their  horses, 
I  mount  and  am  scudding 
before  the  gale  half  a  mile 
away. 

"  Hi  hi-hi-hi !  you'll  never 
overtake  him  !  "  the  Vali 
shouts  enthusiastically  to  the 

two  horsemen  as  they  start  y^^  y^,,  „„  n,,,  ^n^  Map. 

at  full  gallop  after  me,  and 

which  they  laughingly  repeat  to  me  shortly  afterward.  A  very 
pleasant  evening  is  spent  at  Mr.  Hubbard's  house  ;  after  supper 
the  ladies  sing  "  Sweet  Bye  and  Bye,"  "Home,  Sweet  Home,"  and 
other  melodious  reminders  of  the  land  of  liberty  and  song  that 
gave  them  birth.  Everything  looks  comfortable  and  homelike, 
and  they  have  EngHsh  ivy  inside  the  dining-room  trained  up  the 
walls  and  partly  covering  the  ceiling,  which  produces  a  wonder- 
fully pleasant  effect.  The  usual  extraordinary  rumors  of  my 
wonderful  speeding  ability  have  circulated  about  the  city  during 
the  day  and  evening,  some  of  which  have  happened  to  come  to  the 
ears  of  the  missionaries.  One  story  is  that  I  came  from  the  port 
of  Samsoon,  a  -distance  of  nearly  three  hundred  miles,  in  six  houi-s, 
while  an  imaginative  katir-jee,  whom  I  whisked  past  on  the  road, 
has  been  telling  the  Sivas  people  an  exaggerated  story  of  how  a 
genii  had  ridden  past  him  with  lightning-like  speed  on  a  shining 
wheel ;  but  whether  it  was  a  good  or  an  evil  genii  he  said  he  didn't 
have  time  to  determine,  as  I  went  past  like  a  flash  and  vanished  in 


384  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

the  distance.  The  missionaries  have  four  hundred  scholars  at- 
tending their  school  here  at  Sivas,  which  would  seem  to  indicate 
a  pretty  flourishing  state  of  affairs.  Their  recruiting  ground  is,  of 
course,  among  the  Armenians,  who,  though  professedly  Christians, 
really  stand  in  more  need  of  regeneration  than  their  Mohammedan 
neighbors.  The  characteristic  condition  of  the  average  Armenian 
villager's  mind  is  deep,  dense  ignorance  and  moral  gloominess  ; 
it  requires  more  patience  and  perseverance  to  ingraft  a  new  idea 
on  the  unimpressionable  trunk  of  an  Armenian  villager's  intellect 
than  it  does  to  put  up  second-hand  stove-pipe  ;  and  it  is  a  gen- 
erally admitted  fact — i.e.,  west  of  the  Missouri  Eiver— that  anyone 
capable  of  setting  up  three  joints  of  second-hand  stove-pipe  with- 
out using  profane  language  deserves  a  seat  in  Paradise. 

"  Come  in  here  a  minute,''  says  Mr.  Hubbard,  just  before  our 
departure  for  the  night,  leading  the  way  into  an  adjoining  room  ; 
"  here's  shirts,  under-clothing,  socks,  handkerchiefs — everything  ; 
help  yourself  to  anything  you  require  ;  I  know  something  about 
travelling  through  this  country  myself !  "  But  not  caring  to  im- 
pose too  much  on  good  nature,  I  content  myself  with  merely 
pocketing  a  strong  pair  of  socks,  that  I  know  will  come  in  handy. 
I  leave  the  bicycle  at  the  mission  over  night,  and  in  the  morning, 
at  Miss  Chamberlain's  request,  I  ride  round  the  school-house  yard 
a  few  times  for  the  edification  of  the  scholars.  The  greatest  diffi- 
culty, I  am  informed,  with  Armenian  pupils  is  to  get  them  to  take 
sufficient  interest  in  anything  to  ask  questions  ;  it  is  mainly  because 
the  bicycle  will  be  certain  to  awaken  interest,  and  excite  the  spirit 
of  inquiry  among  them,  that  I  am  requested  to  ride  for  their  benefit. 
Thus  is  the  bicycle  fairly  recognized  as  a  valuable  aid  to  missionary 
work.  Moral :  let  the  American  and  Episcopal  boards  provide 
their  Asia  Minor  and  Persian  missionaries  with  nickel-plated  bicy- 
cles ;  let  them  wheel  their  way  into  the  empty  wilderness  of  the 
Armenian  mind,  and  light  up  the  impenetrable  moral  darkness 
lurking  therein  with  the  glowing  and  mist-dispelling  orbs  of  cycle 
lamps. 

Messrs.  Perry,  Hubbard,  and  Weakley  accompany  me  out  some 
distance  on  horseback,  and  at  parting  I  am  commissioned  to  carry 
salaams  to  the  brethren  in  China.  This  is  the  first  opportunity 
that  has  ever  presented  of  sending  greetings  overland  to  far-off 
China,  they  say,  and  such  rare  occasions  are  not  to  be  lightly  over- 
looked.    They  also  promise  to  send  word  to  the  Erzeroum  mission 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET   IWTO   ARMENIA.         385 

to  expect  me ;  the  chances  are,  however,  that  I  shall  reach  Erze- 
roum  before  their  letter ;  there  are  no  lightning  mail-trains  in 
Asia  Minor.  The  road  eastward  from  Sivas  is  an  artificial  high- 
way, and  affords  reasonably  good  wheeling,  but  is  somewhat  infe- 
rior to  the  road  from  Yennikhan.  Before  long  I  enter  a  region  of 
low  hiUs,  dales,  and  small  lakes,  beyond  which  the  road  again  de- 
scends into  the  valley  of  the  Kizil  Irmak.  All  day  long  the  road- 
way averages  better  wheeling  than  I  ever  expected  to  find  in  Asiatic 
Turkey  ;  but  the  prevailing  east  wind  offers  strenuous  opposition 
to  my  progress  every  inch  of  the  way  along  the  hundred  miles  or 
so  of  ridable  road  from  Yennikhan  to  Zara,  a  town  at  which  I  ar- 
rive near  sundown.  Zara  is  situated  at  the  entrance  to  a  narrow 
passage  between  two  mountain  spurs,  and  although  the  road  is 
here  a  dead  level  and  the  surface  smooth,  the  wind  comes  roaring 
from  the  gorge  with  such  tremendous  pressure  that  it  is  only  by 
extraordinary  exertions  that  I  am  able  to  keep  the  saddle. 

Tifticjeeoghlou  Elfeudi  was  a  gentleman  of  Greek  descent.  At 
Zara  I  have  an  opportunity  of  seeing  and  experiencing  something 
of  what  hospitality  is  like  among  the  better  class  Armenians,  for  I 
have  brought  from  Sivas  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Kirkor-agha 
Vartarian,  the  most  prominent  Armenian  gentleman  in  Zara.  I  have 
no  difficulty  whatever  in  finding  the  house,  and  am  at  once  installed 
in  the  customary  position  of  honor,  while  five  serving-men  hover 
about,  ready  to  wait  on  me  ;  some  take  a  hand  in  the  inevitable 
ceremony  of  preparing  and  serving  coffee  and  lighting  cigarettes, 
while  others  stand  watchfully  by  awaiting  word  or  look  from  my- 
self or  mine  host,  or  from  the  privileged  guests  that  immediately 
begin  to  arrive.  The  room  is  of  cedar  planking  throughout,  and  is 
absolutely  without  furniture,  save  the  carpeting  and  the  cushioned 
divan  on  which  I  am  seated.  Mr.  Vartarian  sits  crossed-legged  on 
the  carpet  to  my  left,  smoking  a  iiargileh  ;  his  younger. brother  oc- 
cupies a  similar  position  on  my  right,  rolling  and  smoking  cigar- 
ettes ;  while  the  guests,  as  they  arrive,  squat  themselves  on  the  car- 
pet in  positions  varying  in  distance  from  the  divan,  according  to 
their  respective  rank  and  social  importance.  No  one  ventures  to 
occupy  the  cushioned  divan  alongside  myself,  although  the  divan  is 
fifteen  feet  long,  and  it  makes  me  ^f eel  uncomfortably  like  the  dog- 
in  the  manger  to  occupy  its  whole  length  alone. 

In  a  farther  corner,  and  off  the  slightly  raised  and  carpeted  floor 
on  which  are  seated  the  guests,  is  a  small  brick  fire-place,  on  which 
25 


386  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

a  charcoal  fire  is  brightly  burniag,  and  here  Mr.  Vartarian's  private 
kahvay-jee  is  kept  busily  employed  in  brewing  tiny  cups  of  strong 
black  coffee ;  another  servant  constantly  visits  the  fire  to  ferret  out 
pieces  of  glowing  charcoal  with  small  pipe-lighting  tongs,  with  which 
he  circulates  among  the  guests,  supplying  a  light  to  the  various 
smokers  of  cigarettes.  A  third  youth  is  kept  pretty  tolerably  busy 
performing  the  same  of6.ce  for  Mr.  Vartarian's  nargileh,  for  the  gen- 
tleman is  an  inveterate  smoker,  and  in  all  Turkey  there  can  scarcely 
be  another  nargileh  requiring  so  much  tinkering  with  as  his.  All 
the  livelong  evening  something  keeps  getting  wrong  with  that 
wretched  pipe  ;  mine  host  himself  is  continually  rearranging  the 
little  pile  of  live  coals  on  top  of  the  dampened  tobacco  (the  tobacco 
smoked  in  a  nargileh  is  dampened,  and  live  coals  are  placed  on  top), 
taking  off  the  long  coiled  tube  and  blowing  down  it,  or  prying 
around  in  the  tobacco  receptacle  with  an  awl-like  instrument  in  his 
efforts  to  make  it  draw  properly,  but  without  making  anything  like 
a  success  ;  while  his  nargileh-boy  is  constantly  hovering  over  it  with 
a  new  supply  of  live  coals.  "  Job  himself  could  scarcely  have  been 
possessed  of  more  patience,"  I  think  at  first ;  but  before  the  evening 
is  over  I  come  to  the  conclusion  that  my  worthy  host  wouldn't  ex- 
change that  particular  hubble-bubble  with  its  everlasting  contrari- 
ness for  the  most  perfectly  drawing  nargUeh  in  Turkey :  like  cer- 
tain devotees  of  the  weed  among  ourselves,  who  never  seem  to  be 
happier  than  when  running  a  broom-straw  down  the  stem  of  a  pipe 
that  chronically  refuses  to  draw,  so  Kirkor-agha  Vartarian  finds  his 
chief  amusement  in  thus  tinkering  from  one  week's  end  to  another 
with  his  nargileh. 

At  the  supper  table  mine  host  and  his  brother  both  lavish  atten- 
tions upon  me  ;  knives  and  forks  of  course  there  are  none,  these 
things  being  seldom  seen  in  Asia  Minor,  and  to  a  cycler  who  has 
spent  the  day  in  pedalling  against  a  stiff  breeze,  their  absence  is  a 
matter  of  small  moment.  I  am  ravenously  hungry,  and  they  both 
win  my  warmest  esteem  by  transferring  choice  morsels  from  their 
own  plates  into  mine  with  their  fingers.  From  what  I  know  of 
strict  haut  ton  Zaran  etiquette,  I  think  they  should  really  pop  these 
tid-bits  in  my  mouth,  an3  the  reason  they  don't  do  so  is,  perhaps, 
because  I  fail  to  open  it  in  the  customary  haxd  ton  manner  ;  how- 
ever, it  is  a  distasteful  thing  to  be  always  sticking  up  for  one's  in- 
dividual rights.  A  pile  of  quilts  and  mattresses,  three  feet  thick, 
and  feather  pillows  galore  are  prepared  for  me  to  sleep  on.     An 


388 


FROM   SAN   FRAWCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


attendant  presents  himseK  with  a  wonderful  night-shirt,  on  the 
ample  proportions  of  which  are  displayed  bewildering  colors  and 
figures  ;  and  following  the  custom  of  the  country,  shapes  himself  for 
undressing  me  and  assisting  me  into  bed.  This,  however,  I  prefer 
to  do  without  assistance,  owing  to  a  large  stock  of  native  modesty. 
I  never  fell  among  people  more  devoted  in  their  attentions;  their 
only  thought  during  my  stay  is  to  make  me  comfortable  ;  but  they 
are  very  ceremonious  and  great  sticklers  for  etiquette.  I  had  in- 
tended making  my  usual  early  start,  but  mine  host  receives  with 
open  disapproval — I  fancy  even  with  a  showing  of  displeasure — my 

proposition  to  depart  without  first  par- 
taking of  refreshments,  and  it  is  nearly 
eight  o'clock  before  I  finally  get  started. 
Immediately  after  rising  comes  the  in- 
evitable coffee  and  early  morning  visi- 


tors ;  later  an  attend- 
ant arrives  with  break- 
fast for  myself  on  a 
small  wooden   tray. 


At  Kirkor-agha  Varlarian's. 


Mr.  Vartarian  occupies  precisely  the  same 
position,  and  is  engaged  in  precisely  the  same  occupation  as  yester- 
day evening,  as  is  also  his  brother.  No  sooner  does  the  hapless 
attendant  make  his  appearance  with  the  eatables  than  these  two 
persons  spring  simultaneously  to  their  feet,  apparently  in  a  tower- 
ing rage,  and  chase  him  back  out  of  the  room,  meanwhile  pursuing 
him  with  a  torrent  of  angry  words  ;  they  then  return  to  their  re- 
spective positions  and  respective  occupations.  Ten  minutes  later 
the  attendant  reappears,  but  this  time  bringing  a  larger  tray  with 
an  ample  spread  for  three  persons  ;  this,  it  afterward  appears,  is 
not  because  mine  host  and  his  brother  intends  partaking  of  any. 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET   INTO   ARMENIA.        389 

but  because  it  is  Ai-menian  etiquette  to  do  so,  and  Armenian  eti- 
quette therefore  becomes  responsible  for  the  spectacle  of  a  solitary 
feeder  seated  at  breakfast  with  dishes  and  everything  prepared  for 
three,  while  of  the  other  two,  one  is  smoking  a  uargileh,  the  other 
cigarettes,  and  both  of  them  regarding  my  evident  relish  of  scram- 
bled eggs  and  cold  fowl  with  intense  satisfaction. 

Having  by  this  time  determined  to  merely  drift  with  the  current 
of  mine  host's  intentions  concerning  the  time  of  my  departure,  I 
resume  my  position  on  the  divan  after  breakfasting,  simply  hinting 
that  I  would  like  to  depart  as  soon  as  possible.  To  this  Mr.  Var- 
tarian  complacently  nods  assent,  and  his  brother,  with  equal  com- 
placency roUs  me  a  cigarette,  after  which  a  good  half-hour  is  con- 
sumed in  preparing  for  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  their  friend 
Mtidura  Ghana  in  the  village  of  Kachahurda,  which  I  expect  to 
reach  somewhere  near  noon  ;  mine  host  dictates  while  his  brother 
writes.  Visitors  continue  coming  in,  and  I  am  beginning  to  get 
a  trifle  impatient  about  starting  ;  am  beginning  in  fact  to  wish  all 
their  nonsensical  ceremoniousness  at  the  bottom  of  the  deep  blue 
sea  or  some  equally  unfathomable  quarter,  when,  at  a  signal  from 
Mr.  Tartarian  himself,  his  brother  and  the  whole  roomful  of  visi- 
tors rise  simultaneously  to  their  feet,  and  equally  simultaneously 
put  their  hands  on  their  respective  stomachs,  and,  turning  toward 
me,  salaam  ;  mine  host  then  comes  forward,  shakes  hands,  gives 
me  the  letter  to  Miidura  Ghana,  and  permits  me  to  depart. 

He  has  provided  two  zaptiehs  to  escort  me  outside  the  town,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  I  find  myself  bowling  briskly  along  a  beautiful 
little  valley  ;  the  pellucid  waters  of  a  purling  brook  dance  merrily 
alongside  an  excellent  piece  of  road  ;  birds  are  singing  merrily  in 
the  wiUow-trees,  and  dark  rocky  crags  tower  skyward  immediately 
around.  The  lovely  little  vaUey  terminates  aU  too  soon,  for  in  fifteen 
minutes  I  am  footing  it  up  another  mountain  ;  but  it  proves  to  be 
the  entrance  gate  of  a  region  containing  grander  pine-clad  mountain 
scenery  than  anything  encountered  outside  the  Sierra  Nevadas  ;  in 
fact  the  famous  scenery  of  Cape  Horn,  California,  almost  finds  its 
counterpart  at  one  particular  point  I  traverse  this  morning  ;  only 
instead  of  a  Central  Pacific  Railway  winding  around  the  gray  old 
crags  and  precipices,  the  enterprising  Sivas  Vali  has  built  an  araba 
road.  One  can  scarce  resist  the  temptation  of  wheeling  down  some 
of  the  less  precipitous  slopes,  but  it  is  sheer  indiscretion,  for  the 
roadway  makes  sharp  turns  at  points  where  to  continue  straight 


390  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

ahead  a  few  feet  too  far  would  launch  one  into  eternity  ;  a  broken 
brake,  a  wild  "coast"  of  a  thousand  feet  through  mid-air  into  the 
dark  depths  of  a  rocky  gorge,  and  the  "tour  around  the  world" 
would  abruptly  terminate. 

For  a  dozen  miles  I  traverse  a  tortuous  road  winding  its  way 
among  wild  mountain   gorges  and   dark  pine  forests  ;  Circassian 
horsemen  are  occasionally  encountered  :  it  seems  the  most  appropri- 
ate place  imaginable  for  robbers,  and  I  have  again  been  cautioned 
against  these  freebooting  mountaineers  at  Sivas.     They  eye  me  cu- 
riously, and  generally  halt  after  they  have  passed,  and  watch  my 
progress  for  some  minutes.     Once  I  am  overtaken  by  a  couple  of 
them ;  they  follow  close  behind  me  up  a  mountain  slope  ;  they  are 
heavily  armed  and  look  capable  of  anything,  and  I  plod  along,  men- 
tally calculating  how  to  best  encompass  their  destruction  with  the 
Smith  &  Wesson,  without  coming  to  grief  myself,  should  their  inten- 
tions toward  me  prove  criminal.     It  is  not  exactly  comfortable  or 
reassuring  to  have  two  armed  horsemen,  of  a  people  who  are  regarded 
with  universal  fear  and  mistrust  by  everybody  around  them,  following 
close  upon  one's  heels,  with  the  disadvantage  of  not  being  able  to 
keep  an  eye  on  their  movements  ;  however,  they  have  little  to  say  ; 
and  as  none  of  them  attempt  any  interference,  it  is  not  for  me  to 
make  insinuations  against  them  on  the  barren  testimony  of  their 
outward  appearance  and  the  voluntary  opinions  of  their  neighbors. 
My  route  now  leads  up  a  rocky  ravine,  the  road  being  fairly  under 
cover  of  over-arching  rocks  at  times,  thence  over  a  billowy  region  of 
mountain  summits — an  elevated  region  of  pine-clad  ridges  and  rocky 
peaks — to  descend  again  into  a  cultivated  country  of  undulating  hills 
and  dales,  checkered  with  fields  of  grain.     These  low  rolling  hills 
appear  to  be  in  a  higher  state  of  cultivation  than  any  district  I  have 
traversed  in  Asia  Minor  ;  from  points  of  vantage  the  whole  country 
immediately  around  looks  like  a  swelling  sea  of  golden  grain  ;  har- 
vesting is  going  merrily  on  ;  men  and  women  are  reaping  side  by 
side  in  the  fields,  and  the  songs  of  the  women  come  floating  through 
the  air  from  all  directions.     They  are  Armenian  peasants,  for  I  am 
now  in  Armenia  proper  ;  the  inhabitants  of  this  particular  locahty 
impress  me  as  a  light  hearted,  industrious  people  ;  they  have  an 
abundant  harvest,  and  it  is  a  pleasure  to  stand  and  see  them  reap, 
and  listen  to  the  singing  of  the  women  ;  moreover  they  ai-e  more 
respectably  clothed  than  the  lower,  class  natives  round  about  them, 
barring,  of  course,  our  unfathomable  acquaintances,  the  Circassians. 


THROUGH    THE   SIVAS    VILAYET   INTO   ARMENIA. 


391 


Toward  tlie  eastern  exti-emity  of  this  peaceful,  happy  scene  is 
the  village  of  Kaehahui-da,  which  I  reach  soon  after  noon,  and  where 
resides  Mtidura  Ghana,  to  whom  I  bring  a  letter.  Picturesquely 
speaking,  Kachahurda  is  a  disgrace  to  the  neighborhood  in  which  it 
stands ;  its  mud  hovels  are  combined  cow-pens,  chicken-coops,  and 
human  habitations,  and  they  are  bunched  up  together  without  any 


Apprehensive  of  Danger. 


pretence  to  order  or  regularity  ;  yet  the  light-hearted,  decently-clad 
people,  whose  songs  come  floating  from  the  harvest-fields,  live  con- 
tentedly in  this  and  other  equally  wretched  villages  round  about. 
Mtidura  Ghana  provides  me  with  a  repast  of  bread  and  yaort,  and 
endeavors  to  make  my  brief  halt  comfortable.  WhUe  I  am  dis- 
cussing these  refreshments,  himself  and  another  unwashed,  unkempt 
old  party  come  to  high,  angry  words  about  me  ;  but  whatever  it  is 
about  I  haven't  the  slightest  idea.     Mine  host  seems  a  regular  old 


392  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN, 

savage  when  angry.  He  is  the  happy  possessor  of  a  pair  of  powerful 
lungs,  which  ai-e  ably  seconded  by  a  fog-horn  voice,  and  he  howls  at 
the  other  man  like  an  enraged  bull.  The  other  man  doesn't  seem  to 
mind  it,  though,  and  keeps  up  his  end  of  the  controversy — or  what- 
ever it  is — in  a  comparatively  cool  and  aggravating  manner,  that 
seems  to  feed  MMura  Ghana's  righteous  wrath,  until  I  quite  expect 
to  see  that  outraged  person  reach  down  one  of  the  swords  off  the 
wall  and  hack  his  opponent  into  sausage-meat.  Once  I  venture  to 
inquire,  as  far  as  one  can  inquire  by  pantomime,  what  they  are  quar- 
relling so  violently  about  me  for,  being  reaUy  inquisitive  to  find  out. 
They  both  immediately  cease  hostilities  to  assure  me  that  it  is  nothing 
for  which  I  am  in  any  way  personally  responsible  ;  and  then  they 
straightway  fall  to  glaring  savagely  at  each  other  again,  and  renew 
their  vocal  warfare  more  vigorously,  if  anything,  from  having  just 
drawn  a  peaceful  breath.  Mine  host  of  Kachahurda  can  scarcely  be 
called  a  very  civilized  or  refined  individual ;  he  has  neither  the  gentle 
kindliness  of  Kirkoragha  Tartarian,  nor  the  dignified,  gentlemanly 
bearing  of  Tifticjeeoghlou  Effendi ;  but  he  grabs  a  cluli,  and  roaring 
like  the  hoarse  whistle  of  a  Mississippi  steamboat,  chases  a  crowd  of 
villagers  out  of  the  room  who  venture  to  come  in  on  purpose  to  stare 
rudely  at  his  guest ;  and  for  this  charitable  action  alone  he  deserves 
much  credit ;  nothing  is  so  annoying  as  to  have  these  unwashed 
crowds  standing  gazing  and  commenting  while  one  is  eating.  A 
man  is  sent  with  me  to  direct  me  aright  where  the  road  forks,  a 
mile  or  so  from  the  village  ;  from  the  forks  it  is  a  newly  made  road, 
in  fact,  unfinished  ;  it  resembles  a  ploughed  field  for  looseness  and 
depth  ;  and  when,  in  addition  to  this,  one  has  to  climb  a  gradient  of 
twenty  metres  to  the  hundred,  a  bicycle  is  anything  but  a  comforting 
thing  to  possess. 

The  country  becomes  broken  and  more  mountainous  than  ever, 
and  the  road  winds  about  fearfully.  Often  a  part  of  the  road  that 
is  but  a  mUe  away  as  the  crow  flies  requires  an  hour's  steady  going 
to  reach  it ;  but  the  mountain  scenery  is  glorious.  Occasionally  I 
round  a  point,  or  reach  a  summit,  from  whence  a  magnificent  and 
comprehensive  view  bursts  upon  the  vision,  and  it  really  requires  an 
effort  to  tear  one's  self  away,  realizing  that  in  all  probabUity  I  shall 
never  see  it  again.  At  one  point  I  seem  to  be  overlooking  a  vast 
amphitheatre  which  encompasses  within  itself  the  physical  geog- 
raphy of  a  continent.  It  is  traversed  by  whole  mountain-ranges  of 
lesser  degree  ;  it  contains  tracts  of  stony  desert  and  fertile  valley, 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET   INTO  ARMENIA.         393 

lakes,  and  a  river,  not  excepting  even  the  completing  element  of  a 
fine  forest,  and  encompassing  it  round  about,  like  an  impenetrable 
palisade  protecting  it  against  invasion,  are  scores  of  grand  old 
mountains — grim  sentinels  that  nothing  can  overcome.  The  road, 
though  still  among  the  mountains,  is  now  descending  in  a  general 
way  from  the  elevated  divide,  down  toward  Enderes  and/ the  valley 
of  the  Gevmeili  Chai  River  ;  and  toward  evening  I  enter  an  Arme- 
nian village. 

The  custom  from  here  eastward  appears  to  be  to  have  the 
threshing-floors  in  or  near  the  village  ;  there  are  sometimes  several 
different  floors,  and  when  they  are  winnowing  the  grain  on  windy 
days  the  whole  village  becomes  covered  with  an  inch  or  two  of 
chaff.  I  am  glad  to  find  these  threshing-floors  in  the  villages,  be- 
cause they  give  me  an  excellent  opportunity  to  ride  and  satisfy  the 
people,  thus  saving  me  no  end  of  worry  and  annoyance. 

The  air  becomes  chilly  after  sundown,  and  I  am  shown  Lato  a 
close  room  containing  one  smaU  air-hole,  and  am  provided  with  a 
quUt  and  piUow.  Later  in  the  evening  a  Turkish  Bey  arrives  with 
an  escort  of  zaptiehs  and  occupies  the  same  apartment,  which  would 
seem  to  be  a  room  especially  provided  for  the  accommodation  of 
travellers.  The  moment  the  officer  arrives,  behold,  there  is  a  hurry- 
ing to  and  fro  of  the  villagers  to  sweep  out  the  room,  kindle  a 
fire  to  brew  his  coffee,  and  to  bring  him  water  and  a  vessel  for  his 
ablutions  before  saying  his  evening  prayers.  Cringing  servility 
characterizes  the  demeanor  of  these  Armenian  villagers  toward  the 
Turkish  officer,  and  their  hurrying  hither  and  thither  to  supply  him 
ere  they  are  asked  looks  to  me  wonderfully  like  a  "propitiating  of 
the  gods."  The  Bey  himself  seems  to  be  a  pretty  good  sort  of  a 
fellow,  offering  me  a  portion  of  his  supper,  consisting  of  bread, 
olives,  and  onions  ;  which,  however,  I  decline,  having  already  ordered 
eggs  and  pillau  of  a  villager.  The  Bey's  company  is  highly  accept- 
able, since  it  saves  me  from  the  annoyance  of  being  surrounded  by 
the  usual  ragged,  unwashed  crowd  during  the  evening,  and  secures 
me  a  refreshing  sleep,  undisturbed  by  visions  of  purloined  straps 
or  moccasins.  He  appears  to  be  a  very  pious  Mussulman ;  after 
washing  his  head,  hands,  and  feet,  he  kneels  toward  Mecca  on  the 
wet  towel,  and  prays  for  nearly  twenty  minutes  by  my  timepiece  ; 
and  his  sighs  of  Allah  !  are  wonderfully  deep-fetched,  coming  appar- 
ently from  clear  down  in  his  stomach.  While  he  is  thus  devotion- 
ally  engaged,  his  two  zaptiehs  stand  respectfully  by,  and  divide  their 


394  FKOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

time  between  eying  myself  and  the  bicycle  with  wonder  and  the 
Bey  with  mingled  reverence  and  awe. 

At  early  dawn  I  steal  noiselessly  away,  to  avoid  disturbing  the 
peaceful  slumbers  of  the  Bey.  For  several  miles  my  road  winds 
around  among  the  foot-hills  of  the  range  I  crossed  yesterday,  but 
following  a  gradually  widening  depression,  which  finally  terminates 
in  the  Gevmeili  Chai  Valley  ;  and  directly  ahead  and  below  me  lies 
the  considerable  town  of  Enderes,  surrounded  by  a  broad  fringe  of 
apple-orchards,  and  walnut  and  jujube  groves.  Here  I  obtain  a 
substantial  breakfast  of  Turkish  kabobs  (tid-bits  of  mutton,  spitted 
on  a  skewer,  and  broiled  over  a  charcoal  fire)  at  a  public  eating  khan, 
after  which  the  inudir  kindly  undertakes  to  explain  to  me  the  best 
route  to  Erzingan,  giving  me  the  names  of  several  villages  to  inquire 
for  as  a  guidance.  While  talking  to  the  mudir,  Mr.  Pronatti,  an 
Italian  engineer  in  the  employ  of  the  Sivas  Vali,  makes  his  appear- 
ance, shakes  hands,  reminds  me  that  Italy  has  recently  volunteered 
assistance  to  England  in  the  Soudan  campaign,  and  then  conducts 
me  to  his  quarters  in  another  part  of  the  town.  Mr.  Pronatti  can 
speak  almost  any  language  but  English  ;  I  speak  next  to  nothing  but 
English  ;  nevertheless,  we  manage  to  converse  quite  readily,  for,  be- 
sides proficiency  in  pantomimic  language  acquired  by  daily  practice, 
I  have  necessarily  picked  up  a  few  scattering  words  of  the  vernac- 
ular of  the  several  countries  traversed  on  the  tour.  While  discussing 
a  nice  ripe  water-melon  with  this  gentleman,  several  respectable- 
looking  people  enter  and  introduce  themselves  through  Mr.  Pronatti 
as  Osmanli  Turks,  not  Armenians,  expecting  me  to  regard  them 
more  favorably  on  that  account.  Soon  afterward  a  party  of  Arme- 
nians arrive,  and  take  labored  pains  to  impress  upon  me  that  they 
are  not  Turks,  but  Christian  Armenians.  Both  parties  seem  de- 
sirous of  winning  my  favorable  opinion.  One  party  thinks  the 
surest  plan  is  to  let  me  know  that  they  are  Turks  ;  the  others,  to  let 
me  know  that  they  are  not  Turks.  "  I  have  told  both  parties  to  go 
to  Gehenna,"  says  my  Italian  friend.  "  These  people  will  worry 
you  to  death  with  their  foolishness  if  you  make  the  mistake  of 
treating  them  with  consideration." 

Donning  an  Indian  pith-helmet  that  is  three  sizes  too  lai-ge,  and 
wellnigh  conceals  his  features,  Mr.  Pronatti  orders  his  horse,  and 
accompanies  me  some  distance  out,  to  put  me  on  the  proper  course 
to  Erzingan.  My  route  from  Enderes  leads  along  a  lovely  fertile 
valley,  between  lofty  mountain  i-anges  ;  an  intricate  net-work  of  irri- 


THROUGH   THE   SIVAS   VILAYET  INTO   ARMENIA.         395 

gating  ditches,  fed  by  mountain  streams,  affords  an  abundance  of 
water  for  wheat-fields,  vineyai-ds,  and  orchards  ;  it  is  the  best,  and 
yet  the  worst  watered  valley  I  ever  saw — the  best,  because  the  irri- 
gating ditches  are  so  numerous ;  the  worst,  because  most  of  them 
are  overflowing  and  converting  my  road  into  mud-holes  and  shallow 
pools.  In  the  afternoon  I  reach  somewhat  higher  ground,  where 
the  road  becomes  firmer,  and  I  bowl  merrily  along  eastward,  inter- 
rupted by  nothing  save  the  necessity  of  dismounting  and  shedding 
my  nether  garments  every  few  minutes  to  ford  a  broad,  swift  feeder 
to  the  lesser  ditches  lower  down  the  valley.  In  this  fructiferous 
vale  my  road  sometimes  leads  through  areas  of  vineyards  surrounded 
by  low  mud  walls,  where  grapes  can  be  had  for  the  reaching,  and 
where  the  proprietor  of  an  orchard  will  shake  down  a  shower  of  deli- 
cious yellow  pears  for  whatever  you  like  to  give  him,  or  for  nothing 
if  one  wants  him  to.  .  I  suppose  these  villagers  have  established 
prices  for  their  commodities  when  dealing  with  each  other,  but  they 
almost  invariably  refuse  to  charge  me  anything  ;  some  will  absolutely 
refuse  any  payment,  and  my  only  plan  of  recompensing  them  is  to 
give  money  to  the  children  ;  others  accept,  with  as  great  a  show  of 
gratitude  as  if  I  were  simply  giving  it  to  them  without  having  re- 
ceived an  equivalent,  whatever  I  choose  to  give. 

The  numerous  irrigating  ditches  have  retarded  my  progress  to 
an  appreciable  extent  to-daj',  so  that,  notwithstanding  the  early  start 
and  the  absence  of  mountain-climbing,  my  cyclometer  registers  but 
a  gain  of  thirty-seven  miles,  when,  having  continued  my  eastward 
course  for  some  time  after  nightfall,  and  failing  to  reach  a  village, 
I  commence  looking  around  for  somewhere  to  spend  the  night.  The 
valley  of  the  Gevmeili  Chai  has  been  left  behind,  and  I  am  again 
traversing  a  narrow,  rocky  pass  between  the  hills.  Among  the  rocks 
I  discover  a  small  open  cave,  in  which  I  determine  to  spend  the  night. 
The  region  is  elevated,  and  the  night  air  chilly  ;  so  I  gather  together 
some  dry  weeds  and  rubbish  and  kindle  a  fire.  With  something  to 
cook  and  eat,  and  a  pair  of  blankets,  I  could  have  spent  a  reasonably 
comfortable  night ;  but  a  pocketful  of  pears  has  to  suffice  for  sup- 
per, and  when  the  imsubstantial  fuel  is  burned  away,  my  airy  cham- 
ber on  the  bleak  mountain-side  and  the  thin  cambric  tent  affords 
little  protection  from  the  insinuating  chilliness  of  the  night  an-. 
Variety  is  said  to  be  the  spice  of  life  ;  no  doubt  it  is,  under  certain 
conditions,  but  I  think  it  all  depends  on  the  conditions  whether  it 
is  spicy  or  not  spicy.     For  instance,  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune  that 


396  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

favor  me  with  bread  and  sour  milk  for  dianer,  a  few  pears  for  sup- 
XDer,  and  a  wakeful  night  of  shivering  discomfort  in  a  cave,  as  the 
reward  of  wading  fifty  irrigating  ditches  and  traversing  thirty  miles 
of  ditch-bedevUled  donkey-trails  during  the  day,  may  look  spicy, 
and  even  romantic,  from  a  distance  ;  but  when  one  wakes  up  in  a 
cold  shiver  about  1.30  a.m.  and  realizes  that  several  hours  of  wretch- 
edness are  before  him,  his  waking  thoughts  are  apt  to  be  anything 
but  thoughts  compHmentary  of  the  spiciness  of  the  situation, 
lushallah !  fortune  will  favor  me  with  better  dues  to-morrow  ;  and 
if  not  to-morrow,  then  the  next  day,  or  the  next. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THROUGH  ERZINGAN  AND  BRZEROTJM. 

For  mile  after  mile,  on  the  following  morning,  my  route  leads 
through  broad  areas  strewn  with  bowlders  and  masses  of  rock  that 
appear  to  have  been  brought  down  from  the  adjacent  moimtains 
by  the  annual  spring  floods,  caused  by  the  melting  winter's  snows  ; 
scattering  wheat-fields  are  observed  here  and  there  on  the  higher 
patches  of  ground,  which  look  like  small  yellow  oases  amid  the  des- 
ert-like area  of  loose  rocks  surrounding  them.  Squads  of  diminu- 
tive donkeys  are  seen  picking  their  weary  way  through  the  bowl- 
ders, toiling  from  the  isolated  fields  to  the  village  threshing-floors 
beneath  small  mountains  of  wheat-sheaves.  Sometimes  the  don- 
keys themselves  are  invisible  below  the  general  level  of  the  bowl- 
ders, and  nothing  is  to  be  seen  but  the  head  and  shoulders  of 
a  man,  persuading  before  him  several  animated  heaps  of  straw. 
Small  lakes  of  accumulated  surface-water  are  passed  in  depressions 
having  no  outlet ;  thickets  and  bulrushes  are  growing  around  the 
edges,  and  the  surfaces  of  some  are  fairly  black  with  multitudes  of 
wUd-ducks.  Soon  I  reach  an  Armenian  village  ;  after  satisfying  the 
popular  curiosity  by  riding  around  their  threshing-floor,  they  bring 
me  some  excellent  wheat-bread,  thick,  oval  cakes  that  are  quite  ac- 
ceptable, compared  with  the  wafer-like  sheets  of  the  past  several 
days,  and  five  boiled  eggs.  The  people  providing  these  wiU  not 
accept  any  direct  payment,  no  doubt  thinking  my  having  provided 
them  with  the  only  real  entertainment  most  of  them  ever  saw,  a 
fair  equivalent  for  their  breakfast ;  but  it  seems  too  much  like  rob- 
bing paupers  to  accept  anything  from  these  people  without  return- 
ing something,  so  I  give  money  to  the  children.  These  villagers 
seem  utterly  destitute  of  manners,  standing  around  and  watching 
my  efforts  to  eat  soft-boiled  eggs  with  a  pocket-knife  with  undis- 
guised merriment.  I  inquire  for  a  spoon,  but  they  evidently  pre- 
fer to  extract  amusement  from  watching  my  interesting  attempts 
with   the   pocket-knife.     One   of   them  finally  fetches  a  clumsy 


398 


FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   Ta  TEHERAN. 


wooden  ladle,  three  times  broader  than  an  egg,  which,  of  course, 
is  worse  than  nothing. 

I  now  traverse  a  mountainous  country  with  a  remarkably  clear 
atmosphere.  The  mountains  are  of  a  Ught  cream-colored  shaly 
composition  ;  wherever  a  living  stream  of  water  is  found,  there  also 
is  a  village,  with  clusters  of  trees.  From  points  where  a  compre- 
hensive view  is  obtainable  the  effect  of  these  dark-green  spots, 
scattered  here  and  there  among  the  whitish  hiUs,  seen  through  the 
clear,  rarefied  atmosphere,  is  most  beautiful.  It  seems  a  peculiar 
feature  of  everything  in  the  East — not  only  the  cities  themselves, 

but  even  of  the  land- 
scape— to  look  beauti- 
ful and  enchanting  at 
a  distance  ;  but  upon  a 
closer  approach  all  its 
beauty  vanishes  like 
an  illusory  dream. 
Spots  that  from  a  dis- 
tance look,  amid  their 
barren,  sun-blistered 
surroundings,  like 
lovely  bits  of  fairy- 
land, upon  closer  in- 
vestigation degenerate 
into  wretched  habita- 
tions of  a  ragged,  pov- 
erty-stricken people, 
having  about  them  a 
few  neglected  orchards  and  vineyards,  and  a  couple  of  dozen  strag- 
gling wiUows  and  jujubes. 

For  many  hours  agaia  to-day  I  am  traversing  mountains,  moun- 
tains, nothing  but  mountains  ;  following  tortuous  camel-paths  far 
up  their  giant  slopes.  Sometimes  these  camel-paths  are  splendidly 
smooth,  and  make  most  excellent  riding.  At  one  place,  particularly, 
where  they  wind  horizontally  around  the  mountain-side,  hundreds 
of  feet  above  a  village  immediately  below,  it  is  as  though  the  vil- 
lagers were  in  the  pit  of  a  vast  amphitheatre,  and  myself  were 
wheeling  around  a  semicircular  platform,  five  hundred  feet  above 
tliem,  but  in  plain  view  of  them  all.  I  can  hear  the  wonder-struck 
villagers  calling  each  other's  attention  to  the  strange  apparition. 


The   Armenian   Egg-spoon. 


THROUGH    KRZINGAN   AND    ERZEEOUM.  399 

and  can  observe  them  swarming  upon  tlie  house-tops.  What  won- 
derful stories  the  inhabitants  of  this  particular  village  will  have  to 
recount  to  their  neighbors,  of  this  marvellous  sight,  concerning 
which  their  own  unaided  minds  can  give  no  explanation  ! 

Noontide  comes  and  goes  without  bringing  me  any  dinner," 
when  I  emerge  upon  a  small,  cultivated  plateau,  and  descry  a  co- 
terie of  industrious  females  reaping  together  in  a  field  near  by,  and 
straightway  turn  my  footsteps  thitherward  with  a  view  of  ascer- 
taining whether  they  happen  to  have  any  eatables.  No  sooner  do 
they  observe  me  trundling  toward  them  than  they  ingloriously  flee 
the  field,  thoughtlessly  leaving  bag  and  baggage  to  the  tender 
mercies  of  a  ruthless  invader.  Among  their  effects  I  find  some 
bread  and  a  cucumber,  which  I  forthwith  confiscate,  leaving  a  two 
and  a  half  piastre  metallique  piece  in  its  stead  ;  the  afEi-ighted  women 
are  watching  me  from  the  safe  distance  of  three  hundred  yards  ; 
when  they  return  and  discover  the  coin  they  will  wish  some  'cycler 
would  happen  along  and  frighten  them  away  on  similar  conditions 
every  day.  Later  in  the  afternoon  I  find  myself  wandering  along 
the  wrong  trail ;  not  a  very  unnatural  occurrence  hereabout,  for 
since  leaving  the  valley  of  the  Gevmeili  Chai,  it  has  been  difiicult 
to  distinguish  the  Erzingan  trail  from  the  numerous  other  trails 
intersecting  the  country  in  every  direction.  On  such  a  journey  as 
this  one  seems  to  acquire  a  certain  amount  of  instinct  concerning 
roads  ;  certain  it  is,  that  I  never  traverse  a  wrong  trail  any  dis- 
tance these  days  ere,  without  any  tangible  evidence  whatever,  I  feel 
instinctively  that  I  am  going  astray.  A  party  of  camel-drivers 
direct  me  toward  the  lost  Erzingan  trail,  and  in  an  hour  I  am  fol- 
lowing a  tributary  of  the  ancient  Lycus  Eiver,  along  a  valley  where 
evei-ything  looks  marvellously  green  and  refreshing  ;  it  is  as  though 
I  have  been  suddenly  transferred  into  an  entirely  different  country. 

This  innovation  from  barren  rocks  and  sun-baked  shale  to  a 
valley  where  the  principal  crops  seem  to  be  alfalfa  and  clover,  and 
which  is  flanked  on  the  south  by  dense  forests  of  pine,  encroaching 
downward  from  the  mountain  slopes  clear  on  to  the  level  green- 
sward, is  rather  an  agreeable  surprise  ;  the  secret  of  the  magic 
change  does  not  remain  a  secret  long  ;  it  reveals  itself  in  the  shape 
of  sundry  broad  snow-patches  still  lingering  on  the  summits  of  a 
higher  mountain  range  beyond.  These  pine  forests,  the  pleasant 
greensward,  and  the  lingering  snow-banks,  tell  an  oft-repeated 
tale  ;  they  speak  eloquently  of  forests  preserved  and  the  winter 


400  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

snow-fall  tliereby  increased  ;  they  speak  all  the  more  eloquently 
because  of  being  surrounded  by  barren,  parched-up  hills  which, 
under  like  conditions,  might  produce  similar  happy  results,  but 
which  now  produce  nothing.  While  traversing  this  smiling  valley 
I  meet  a  man  asleep  on  a  buffalo  ardba  ;  an  irrigating  ditch  runs 
parallel  with  the  road  and  immediately  alongside  ;  the  meek-eyed 
buffaloes  swerve  into  the  ditch  in  deference  to  their  awe  of  the 
bicycle,  and  upset  their  drowsy  driver  into  the  water.  The  man 
evidently  stands  in  need  of  a  bath,  but  somehow  he  doesn't  seem 
to  appreciate  it ;  perhaps  it  happened  a  trifle  too  impromptu,  as  it 
were,  to  suit  his  easy-going  Asiatic  temperament.  He  returns  my 
rude,  unsympathetic  smile  with  a  prolonged  stare  of  bewilderment, 
but  says  nothing. 

Soon  I  meet  a  boy  riding  on  a  donkey,  and  ask  him  the  postaya 
distance  to  Erzingan  ;  the  youth  looks  frightened  half  out  of  his 
senses,  but  manages  to  retain  sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  elevate 
one  finger,  by  which  I  understand  him  to  mean  that  it  is  one  hour, 
or  about  four  miles.  Accordingly  I  pedal  perseveringly  ahead, 
hoping  to  reach  the  city  before  dusk,  at  the  same  time  feeling 
rather  surprised  at  finding  it  so  near,  as  I  haven't  been  expecting 
to  reach  there  before  to-morrow.  Five  miles  beyond  where  I  met 
the  boy,  and  just  after  sundown,  I  overtake  some  katir-jees  en  route 
to  Erzingan  with  donkey-loads  of  grain,  and  ask  them  the  same 
question.  Prom  them  I  learn  that  instead  of  one,  it  is  not  less 
than  twelve  hours  distant,  also  that  the  trail  leads  over  a  fearfully 
mountainous  country.  Nestling  at  the  base  of  the  mountains,  a 
short  distance  to  the  northward,  is  the  large  village  of  Merriserriff, 
and  not  caring  to  tempt  the  fates  into  giving  me  another  supper- 
less  night  in  a  cold,  cheerless  cave,  I  wend  my  way  thither. 

Fortune  throws  me  into  the  society  of  an  Armenian  whose  chief 
anxiety  seems  to  be,  first,  that  I  shall  thoroughly  understand  that 
he  is  an  Armenian,  and  not  a  Mussulman  ;  and,  secondly,  to  hasten 
me  into  the  presence  of  the  mudir,  who  is  a  Mussulman,  and  a 
Turkish  Bey,  in  order  that  he  may  bring  himself  into  the  mudir  s 
favorable  notice  by  personally  introducing  me  as  a  rare  novelty  on 
to  his  (the  mudir's)  threshing-floor.  The  official  and  a  few  friends 
are  sipping  coffee  in  one  corner  of  the  threshing  floor,  and,  al- 
though I  don't  much  relish  my  position  of  the  Armenian's  puppet- 
show,  I  give  the  mudir  an  exhibition  of  the  bicycle's  use,  in  the 
expectation  that  he  will  invite  me  to  remain  his  guest  over  night. 


THEOUGII   EEZINGAN  AND  ERZEROUM.  401 

He  proves  uncourteous,  however,  not  even  inviting  me  to  partake 
of  coffee  ;  evidently,  he  has  become  so  thoroughly  accustomed  to 
the  abject  servility  of  the  Armenians  about  him — -who  would  never 
think  of  expecting  reciprocating  courtesies  from  a  social  superior 
— that  he  has  unconsciously  come  to  regard  everybody  else,  save 
those  whom  he  knows  as  his  official  superiors,  as  tarred,  more  or 
less,  with  the  same  feather.  In  consequence  of  this  belief  I  am 
not  a  little  gratified  when,  upon  the  point  of  leaving  the  threshing- 
floor,  an  occasion  offers  of  teaching  him  different. 

Other  friends  of  the  mudir's  appear  upon  the  scene  just  as  I  am 
leaving,  and  he  beckons  me  to  come  back  and  bin  for  the  enlighten- 
ment of  the  new  arrivals.  The  Armenian's  cotintenance  fairly  beams 
with  importance  at  thus  being,  as  it  were,  encored,  and  the  collected 
villagers  murmur  their  approval ;  but  I  answer  the  mudir's  beck- 
oned invitation  by  a  negative  wave  of  the  hand,  signifying  that  I 
can't  bother  with  him  any  further.  The  common  herd  around  re- 
gard this  self-assertive  reply  with  open-mouthed  astonishment,  as 
though  quite  too  incredible  for  belief  ;  it  seems  to  them  an  act  of 
almost  criminal  discourtesy,  and  those  immediately  about  me  seem 
almost  inclined  to  take  me  back  to  the  threshing-floor  like  a  cul- 
prit. But  the  mudir  himself  is  not  such  a  blockhead  but  that  he 
realizes  the  mistake  he  has  made.  He  is  too  proud  to  acknowledge 
it,  though  ;  consequently  his  friends  miss,  perhaps,  the  only  op- 
portunity in  their  uneventful  Hves  of  seeing  a  bicycle  ridden. 

Owing  to  my  ignorance  of  the  vernacular,  I  am  compelled  to 
drift  more  or  less  with  the  tide  of  circumstances  about  me,  upon 
entering  one  of  these  ^dllages,  for  accommodation,  and  make  the 
best  of  whatever  capricious  chance  provides.  My  Armenian  "man- 
ager "  now  delivers  me  into  the  hands  of  one  of  his  compatriots, 
from  whom  I  obtain  supper  and  a  quilt,  sleeping,  from  a  not  over 
extensive  choice,  on  some  straw,  beneath  the  broad  eaves  of  a  log 
granary  adjoining  the  house. 

I  am  for  once  quite  mistaken  in  making  an  early,  breakfastless 
start,  for  it  proves  to  be  eighteen  weary  miles  over  a  rocky  moun- 
tain pass  before  another  human  habitation  is  reached,  a  region  of 
jagged  rocks,  deep  gorges,  and  scattered  pines.  Fortunately,  how- 
ever, I  am  not  destined  to  travel  the  whole  eighteen  miles  in  a 
breakfastless  condition — not  quite  a  breakfastless  condition.  Per- 
haps half  the  distance  is  traversed,  when,  while  trundUng  up  the 
ascent,  I  meet  a  party  of  horsemen,  a  turbaned  old  Turk,  with  an 
2G 


402  FUOJI   SAW   FEANCISCO   TO  TEIIEEAW. 

escort  of  three  zaptiehs,  and  another  traveller,  who  is  keeping  pace 
with  them  for  company  and  safety.  The  old  Turk  asks  me  to  bin 
bacaleni,  supplementing  the  request  by  calling  my  attention  to  his 
turban,  a  gorgeously  spangled  affair  that  would  seem  to  indicate 
the  wearer  to  be  a  personage  of  some  importance  ;  I  observe,  also, 
that  the  butt  of  his  revolver  is  of  pearl  inlaid  with  gold,  another 
indication  of  either  rank  or  opulence.  Having  turned  about  and 
granted  his  request,  I  in  turn  call  his  attention  to  the  fact  that 
mountain  climbing  on  an  empty  stomach  is  anything  but  satisfac- 
tory or  agreeable,  and  give  him  a  broad  hint  by  inquiring  how  far 
it  is  before  elcviek  is  obtainable.  For  reply,  he  orders  a  zaptieh  to 
produce  a  wheaten  cake  from  his  saddle-bags,  and  the  other  trav- 
eller voluntarily  contributes  three  apples,  which  he  ferrets  out  from 
the  ample  folds  of  his  kammerbund  and  off  this  I  make  a  breakfast. 

Toward  noon,  the  highest  elevation  of  the  pass  is  reached,  and  I 
commence  the  descent  toward  the  Erzingan  Valley,  following  for  a 
number  of  miles  the  course  of  a  tributary  of  the  western  fork  of 
the  Euphrates,  known  among  the  natives  in  a  general  sense  as  the 
"Prat;  "this  particular  branch  is  locally  termed  the  Kara  Su,  or 
black  water.  The  stream  and  my  road  lead  down  a  rocky  defile 
between  towering  hUls  of  rock  and  slaty  formation,  whose  precipi- 
tous slopes  vegetable  nature  seems  to  shun,  and  everything  looks 
black  and  desolate,  as  though  some  blighting  curse  had  fallen  upon 
the  place.  Up  this  same  rocky  passage-way,  eight  summers  ago, 
swarmed  thousands  of  wretched  refugees  from  the  seat  of  war  in 
Eastern  Armenia  ;  small  oblong  mounds  of  loose  rocks  and  bowl- 
ders are  frequently  observed  all  down  the  ravine,  mournful  re- 
minders of  one  of  the  most  heartrending  phases  of  the  Ai'menian 
campaign ;  green  lizards  are  scuttling  about  among  the  mde 
graves,  making  their  habitations  in  the  oblong  mounds. 

About  two  o'clock  I  arrive  at  a  road-side  khan,  where  an  ancient 
Osmanli  dispenses  feeds  of  grain  for  travellers'  animals,  and  brews 
noffee  for  the  travellers  themselves,  besides  furnishing  them  with 
whatever  he  happens  to  possess  in  the  way  of  eatables  to  such  as 
are  unfortunately  obliged  to  patronize  his  cuisine  or  go  ■without  any- 
thing ;  among  this  latter  class  belongs,  unhappily,  my  hungry  self. 
Upon  inquiring  for  refreshments  tlie  khan-jee  conducts  me  to  a  rear 
apartment  and  exhibits  for  my  inspection  the  contents  of  two  jars, 
one  containing  the  native  idea  of  butter  and  the  other  the  native 
conception  of  a  soft  variety  of  cheese  ;  what  difference  is  discover- 


THROUGH   EEZINGAN  AND   EEZEEOUM. 


403 


able  between  these  two  kiudred  products  is  chiefly  a  difference  in 
the  degxee  of  rancidity  and  odoriferousness,  in  which  respect  the 
cheese  plainly  carries  off  the  honors  ;  in  fact  these  venerable  and 
esteemable  qualities  of  the  cheese  are  so  remarkably  developed 
that  after  one  cautious  peep  into  its  receptacle  I  forbear  to  inves- 
tigate their  comparative  excellencies  any  further ;  but  obtaining 
some  bread  and  a  portion  of  the  comparatively  mild  and  inoffensive 
butter,  I  proceed  to  make  the  best  of  circumstances.  The  old 
khan-jee  proves   himself  a  thoughtful,  considerate  landlord,  for  as 

I  eat  he  busies  himself 
picking  the  most  glar- 
ingly conspicuous  hairs 
out  of  my  butter  ^vith 
the  point  of  his  dagger. 
One  is  usually  somewhat 
squeamish  regarding 
hirsute  butter,  but  all 
such  little  refinements  of 


>.Hf 


The  Native   Idea  of  Butter. 


civilized  life  as  hairless  butter  or  strained  milk  have  to  be  winked 
at  to  a  greater  or  less  extent  in  Asiatic  travelling,  especially  when 
depending  solely  on  what  happens  to  turn  up  from  one  meal  to  an- 
other. 

The  narrow,  lonely  defile  continues  for  some  miles  eastward 
from  the  khan,  and  ere  I  emerge  from  it  altogether  I  encounter  a 
couple  of  ill-starred  natives,  who  venture  upon  an  effort  to  intimi"- 
date  me  into  yielding  up  my  purse.  A  certain  Mahmoud  Ali 
and  his  band  of  enterprising  freebooters  have  been  terrorizing  the 
^•illa"■ers  and  committing  highway  robberies  of  late  around  the 
country  ;  but  from  the  general  appearance  of  these  two,  as  they 


404 


FROM   SAW   FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIEKAW. 


approach,  I  take  them  to  be  merely  villagers  returning  home  from 
Erzingan  afoot.  They  are  armed  with  Circassian  guardless  swords 
and  flint-lock  horse-pistols  ;  upon  meeting  they  address  some  ques- 
tion to  me  in  Turkish,  to  which  I  make  my  customary  reply  of 
Turkchi  hinmus ;  one  of  them  then  demands  para  (money)  in  a 
manner  that  leaves  something  of  a  doubt  whether  he  means  it  for 
begging,  or  is  ordering  me  to  deliver.  In  order  to  the  better  dis- 
cover their  intentions,  I  pretend  not  to  understand,  whereupon 


"  stand   and    Deliver  !  ' 


the  spokesman  reveals  their  meaning  plain  enough  by  reiterating 
the  demand  in  a  tone  meant  to  be  intimidating,  and  half  unsheaths 
his  sword  in  a  significant  manner.  Intuitively  the  precise  situa- 
tion of  affairs  seems  to  reveal  itself  in  a  moment ;  they  are  but  or- 
dinarily inoffensive  villagers  returning  from  Erzingan,  where  they 
have  sold  and  squandered  even  the  donkeys  they  rode  to  town  ; 
meeting  me  alone,  and,  as  they  think  in  the  absence  of  outward 
evidence  that  I  am  unarmed,  they  have  become  possessed  of  the 
idea  of  retrieving  their  fortunes  by  intimidating  me  out  of  money. 


TIIR0D6II   EKZINGAN   AND   ERZEKOUM.  405 

Never  were  men  more  astonished  and  taken  aback  at  finding  me 
armed,  and  they-  both  turn  pale  and  fairly  shiver  with  fright 
as  I  produce  the  Smith  &  Wesson  from  its  inconspicuous  position 
at  my  hip,  and  hold  it  on  a  level  with  the  bold  spokesman's  head ; 
they  both  look  as  if  they  expected  their  last  hour  had  arrived  and 
both  seem  incapable  either  of  utterance  or  of  running  away  ;  in 
fact,  their  embarrassment  is  so  ridiculous  that  it  provokes  a  smile 
and  it  is  with  anything  but  a  threatening  or  angrj'  voice  that  I  bid 
them  liaidy  !  The  bold  highwaymen  seem  only  too  thankful  of  a 
chance  to  "haidij,"  and  they  look  quite  confused,  and  I  fancy  even 
ashamed  of  themselves,  as  they  betake  themselves  off  up  the  ravine. 
I  am  quite  as  thankful  as  themselves  at  getting  off  without  the 
necessity  of  using  my  revolver,  for  had  I  killed  or  badly  wounded 
one  of  them  it  would  probably  have  caused  no  end  of  trouble 
or  vexatious  delay,  esj)ecially  in  case  they  prove  to  be  what 
I  take  them  for,  instead  of  professional  robbers ;  moreover,  I 
might  not  have  gotten  off  unscathed  myself,  for  while  their  ancient 
flint-locks  were  in  all  probability  not  even  loaded,  being  worn 
more  for  appearances  by  the  native  than  anything  else,  these  fel- 
lows sometimes  do  desperate  work  with  their  ugly  and  ever-handy 
swords  when  cornered  up,  in  proof  of  which  w^e  have  the  late  das- 
tardly assault  on  the  British  Consul  at  Erzeroum,  of  which  we 
shall  doubtless  hear  the  particulars  upon  reaching  that  city. 

Before  long  the  ravine  terminates,  and  I  emerge  upon  the  broad 
and  smiling  Erzingau  Valley  ;  at  the  lower  extremity  of  the  ravine 
the  stream  has  cut  its  channel  through  an  immense  depth  of  con- 
glomerate formation,  a  hundred  feet  of  bowlders  and  pebbles  ce- 
mented together  by  integrant  particles  which  appear  to  have  been 
washed  down  from  the  mountains — probably  during  the  subsidence 
of  the  deluge,  for  even  if  that  great  catastrophe  were  a  comparatively 
local  occurrence,  instead  of  a  universal  flood,  as  some  profess  to  be- 
lieve, we  are  now  gradually  creeping  up  toward  Ararat,  so  that  this 
particular  region  was  undoubtedly  submerged.  What  appear  to 
be  petrified  chunks  of  wood  are  interspersed  through  the  mass. 
There  is  nothing  newunder  the  sun,  they  say ;  peradventure  they  may 
be  sticks  of  cooking-stove  wood  indignantly  cast  out  of  the  kitchen 
window  of  the  ark  by  Mrs.  Noah,  because  the  absent-minded  patri- 
arch habitually  persisted  in  cutting  them  three  inches  too  long  for 
the  stove  ;  who  knows  ?  I  now  wheel  along  a  smooth,  level  road 
leadin"  through  several  orchai-d-environed  villages;  general  cul- 


406  FEOM   SAN  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

tivation  and  an  atmosphere  of  peace  and  plenty  seems  to  pervade 
the  valley,  which,  with  its  scattering  villages  amid  the  foliage  of 
their  orchards,  looks  most  charming  upon  emerging  from  the 
gloomy  environments  of  the  rock-ribbed  and  verdureless  ravine  ;  a 
fitting  background  is  presented  on  the  south  by  a  mountain- chain 
of  considerable  elevation,  upon  the  highest  peaks  of  which  still 
linger  tardy  patches  of  snow. 

Since  the  occupation  of  Kars  by  the  Russians  the  military 
mantle  of  that  important  fortress  has  fallen  upon  Erzeroum  and 
Erzingan  ;  the  booming  of  cannon  fired  in  honor  of  the  Sultan's 
birthday  is  awakening  the  echoes  of  the  rock-ribbed  mountains  as 
I  wheel  eastward  down  the  valley,  and  within  about  three  miles  of 
the  city  I  pass  the  headquarters  of  the  garrison.  Long  rows  of 
hundreds  of  white  field-tents  are  ranged  about  the  position  on  the 
level  greensward ;  the  place  presents  an  animated  scene,  with  the 
soldiers,  some  in  the  ordinary  blue,  trimmed  with  red,  others  in  cool, 
white  uniforms  especially  provided  for  the  summer,  but  which  they 
are  not  unlikely  to  be  found  also  wearing  in  winter,  owing  to  the 
ruinous  state  of  the  Ottoman  exchequer,  and  one  and  all  wearing 
the  picturesque  but  uncomfortable  fez  ;  cannons  are  booming, 
drums  beating,  and  bugles  playing.  From  the  mihtary  headquarters 
to  the  city  is  a  splendid  broad  macadam,  converted  into  a  magnifi- 
cent avenue  by  rows  of  trees ;  it  is  a  general  holiday  with  the  mil- 
itary, and  the  avenue  is  alive  with  officers  and  soldiers  going  and 
returning  between  Erzingan  and  the  camp.  The  astonishment  of 
the  valiant  warriors  of  Islam  aa  I  wheel  briskly  down  the  thronged 
avenue  can  be  better  imagined  than  described  ;  the  soldiers  whom 
I  pass  immediately  commence  j'elling  at  their  comrades  ahead  to 
call  their  attention,  while  epauletted  officers  forget  for  the  moment 
their  military  dignity  and  reserve  as  they  turn  their  affrighted 
chargers  around  and  gaze  after  me,  stupefied  with  astonishment ; 
perhaps  they  are  wondering  whether  I  am  not  some  supernatural 
being  connected  in  some  way  with  the  celebration  of  the  Sultan's 
birthday — a  winged  messenger,  perhaps,  from  the  Prophet. 

Upon  reaching  the  city  I  repair  at  once  to  the  large  custom- 
house caravanserai  and  engage  a  room  for  the  night  The  pro- 
prietor of  the  rooms  seems  a  sensible  fellow,  with  nothing  of  the 
inordinate  inquisitiveness  of  the  average  native  about  him,  and 
instead  of  throwing  the  weight  of  his  influence  and  his  persuasive 
powers  on  the  side  of  the  importuning  crowd,  he  authoritatively 


THJtOUGH    EKZINGAN   AND   EUZEEOUM.  407 

bids  them  "haidy!  "  locks  the  bicycle  iu  my  room,  and  gives  me  the 
key.  The  Erzingan  caravanserai — and  aU  these  caravanserais  are 
essentially  similar — is  a  square  court-yard  surrounded  by  the  four 
sides  of  a  two-storied  brick  building  ;  the  ground-floor  is  occupied 
by  the  ofSces  of  the  importers  of  foreign  goods  and  the  custom- 
house authorities  ;  the  upper  floor  is  divided  into  small  rooms  for 
the  accommodation  of  travellers  and  caravan  men  arriving  with 
goods  from  Trebizond.  Sallying  forth  in  search  of  supper,  I  am 
taken  in  tow  by  a  couple  of  Armenians,  who  volunteer  the  Welcome 
information  that  there  is  an  " Americanish  hakim"  in  the  city; 
this  intelligence  is  an  agreeable  surprise,  for  Erzeroum  is  the  near- 
est place  in  which  I  have  been  expecting  to  find  an  English-speak- 
ing person.  "While  searching  about  for  the  hakim,  we  pass  near 
the  zaptie.h  headquarters  ;  the  officers  are  enjoying  their  nargileh 
iu  the  cool  evening  air  outside  the  building,  and  seeing  an  Eng- 
lishman, beckon  us  over.  They  desire  to  examine  my  leskeri,  the 
first  occasion  on  which  it  has  been  ofiScially  demanded  since  land- 
ing at  Ismidt,  although  I  have  voluntarily  produced  it  on  previous 
occasions,  and  at  Sivas  requested  the  Vali  to  attach  his  seal  and 
signature  ;  this  is  owing  to  the  proximity  of  Erzingan  to  the  Rus- 
sian frontier,  and  the  suspicions  that  any  stranger  may  be  a  sub- 
ject of  the  Czar,  visiting  the  military  centres  for  sinister  reasons. 
They  send  an  officer  with  me  to  hunt  up  the  resident  pasha  ;  that 
worthy  and  enhghtened  personage  is  found  busily  engaged  in 
playing  a  game  of  chess  with  a  military  officer,  and  barely  takes 
the  trouble  to  glance  at  the  proffered  passport:  "It  is  vised  by 
the  Sivas  Vali,"  he  says,  and  lackadaisically  waves  us  adieu.  Upon 
returning  to  the  zaptieh  station,  a  quiet,  unassuming  American 
comes  forward  and  introduces  himself  as  Dr.  Van  Nordau,  a  physi- 
cian formerly  connected  with  the  Persian  mission.  The  doctor  is 
a  spare-built  and  not  over-robust  man,  and  would  perhaps  be  con- 
sidered by  most  people  as  a  trifle  eccentric  ;  instead  of  being  con- 
nected with  any  missionary  organization,  he  nowadays  wanders 
hither  and  thither,  acquiring  knowledge  and  seeking  whom  he  can 
persuade  from  the  error  of  their  ways,  meanwhile  sujDporting  him- 
self by  the  practice  of  his  profession.  Among  other  interesting 
things  spoken  of,  he  tells  me  something  of  his  recent,  journej'  to 
Kbiva  (the  doctor  pronounces  it  "Heevah")  ;  he  was  surprised,  he 
says,  at  finding  the  Khivans  a  mild-mannered  and  harmless  sort  of 
people,  among  whom  the  carrying  of  weapons  is  as  mach  the  ex- 


408 


FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


ception  as  it  is  the  rule  in  Asiatic  Turkey.  Doubtless  the  fact  of 
Khiva  being  under  the  Russian  Government  has  something  to  do 
with  the  latter  otherwise  unaccountable  fact. 

After  supper  we  sit  down  on  a  newly  arrived  bale  of  Manchester 
calico  in  the  caravanserai  court,  cross  one  knee  and  whittle  chips 
like  Michigan  grangers  at  a  cross-roads  post-office,  and  spend  two 
hours  conversing  on   different  topics.     The   good  doctor's  mind 


The   Pasha  was  Playing  Chess. 


V^S-vxV 


wanders  as  naturally  into  serious  channels  as  water  gravitates  to  its 
level ;  when  I  inquire  if  he  has  heard  anything  of  the  whereabout 
of  Mahmoud  Ali  and  his  gang  lately,  the  pious  doctor  replies 
chiefly  by  hinting  what  a  glorious  thing  it  is  to  feel  prepared  to 
yield  up  the  ghost  at  any  moment ;  and  when  I  recount  something 
of  my  experiences  on  the  journey,  instead  of  giving  me  credit  for 
pluck,  like  other  people,  he  merely  inquires  if  I  don't  recog-nize 
the  protecting  hand  of  Providence  ;   native  modesty  prevents  me 


THROUGH   EUZINGAN   AND    EEZEROUM.  409 

telling  the  doctor  of  my  valuable  missionary  work  at  Sivas.  After 
the  doctor's  departure  I  wander  forth  into  the  bazaar  to  see  what  it 
looks  like  after  dark  ;  many  of  the  stalls  are  closed  for  the  day, 
the  principal  places  remaining  open  being  kahmij-khans  and  Ar- 
menian wine-shops,  and  before  these  petroleum  lamps  are  kept 
burning  ;  the  remainder  of  the  bazaar  is  in  darkness.  I  have  not 
strolled  about  many  minutes  before  I  am  corralled  as  usual  by  Ar- 
menians ;  they  straightway  send  off  for  a  youthful  compatriot  of 
theirs  who  has  been  to  the  missionary's  school  at  Kaizareah  and 
can  speak  a  smattering  of  EngUsh.  After  the  usual  programme  of 
questions,  they  suggest : 

"  Being  an  Englishman,  you  are  of  course  a  Christian,"  by  which 
they  mean  that  I  am  not  a  Mussulman. 

"  Certainly,"  I  reply  ;  whereupon  they  lug  me  into  one  of  their 
wine-shops  aud  tender  me  a  glass  of  raki  (a  corruption  of  "  arrack  " 
— raw,  fiery  spirits  of  the  kind  known  among  the  English  soldiers 
in  India  by  the  suggestive  pseudonym  of  "  fixed  bayonets "). 
Smelling  the  raki,  I  make  a  wry  face  and  shove  it  away  ;  they 
look  surprised  and  order  the  waiter  to  bring  cognac  ;  to  save  the 
waiter  the  trouble,  I  make  another  wry  face,  indicative  of  dis- 
appi-oval,  and  suggest  that  he  bring  vishner-st«. 

"Vishner-su .' "  two  or  three  of  them  sing  out  in  a  chorus  of 
blank  amazement;  "Ingilis?  Christi-au  ?  vishner-sit .' "  they  ex- 
claim, as  though  such  a  preposterous  and  unaccountable  thing  as  a 
Christian  partaking  of  a  non-intoxicating  beverage  like  vishner-sw 
is  altogether  beyond  then-  comprehension.  The  youth  who  has 
been  to  the  Kaizareah  school  then  explains  to  the  others  that  the 
American  missionaries  never  indulge  in  intoxicating  beverages  ; 
this  seems  to  clear  away  the  clouds  of  their  mystification  to  some 
extent,  and  they  order  vishner-su,  eying  me  critically,  however,  as 
I  taste  it,  as  though  expecting  to  observe  me  make  yet  another  wry 
countenance  and  acknowledge '  that  in  refusing  the  fiery,  thi-oat- 
blistering  raki  I  had  made  a  mistake. 

Nothing  in  the  way  of  bedding  or  furniture  is  provided  in  the 
caravanserai  rooms,  but  the  proprietor  gets  me  plenty  of  quilts, 
and  I  pass  a  reasonably  comfortable  night.  In  the  morning  I  ob- 
tain breakfast  and  manage  to  escape  from  town  without  attracting 
a  crowd  of  more  than  a  couple  of  hundred  people  ;  a  remarkable 
occurrence  in  its  way,  since  Erziugan  contains  a  population  of  about 
twenty  thousand.     The  road  eastward  from  Erzingan  is  level,  but 


410  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN". 

heavy  with  dust,  leading  through  a  low  portion  of  the  valley  that 
earlier  iu  the  season  is  swampy,  and  gives  the  city  an  unenviable 
reputation  for  malarial  fevers.  To  prevent  the  travellers  drinking 
the  unwholesome  water  in  this  part  of  the  valley,  some  benevolent 
Mussulman  or  public-spirited  pasha  has  erected  at  intervals,  by  the 
road  side,  compact  mud  huts,  and  placed  there  in  huge  earthenware 
vessels,  holding  perhaps  fifty  gallons  each ;  these  are  kept  supplied 
with  pure  spring- water  and  provided  with  a  wooden  driuking-scoop. 

Fourteen  miles  from  Erzingan,  at  the  entrance  to  a  ravine  whence 
flows  the  boisterous  stream  that  supplies  a  goodly  proportion  of  the 
irrigating  water  for  the  valley,  is  situated  a  military  outpost  station. 
My  road  runs  within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  building,  and  the 
officers,  seeing  me  evidently  intending  to  pass  without  stopping, 
motion  for  me  to  halt.  I  know  well  enough  they  want  to  examine 
iny  passport,  and  also  to  satisfy  their  curiosity  concerning  the  bi- 
cycle, but  determine  upon  spurting  ahead  and  escaping  their  bother 
altogether.  This  movement  at  once  arouses  the  official  suspicion 
as  to  my  being  in  the  country  without  proper  authority,  and  causes 
them  to  attach  some  mysterious  significance  to  my  strange  vehicle, 
and  several  soldiers  forthwith  receive  racing  orders  to  intercept  me. 
Unfortunately,  my  spurting  receives  a  prompt  check  at  the  stream, 
which  is  not  bridged,  and  here  the  doughty  warriors  intercept  my 
progress,  taking  me  into  custody  with  broad  grins  of  satisfaction, 
aa  though  pretty  certain  of  having  made  an  important  capture. 
Since  there  is  no  escaping,  I  conclude  to  have  a  little  quiet  amuse- 
ment out  of  the  affair,  anywaj-,  so  I  refuse  point-blank  to  accom- 
pany my  captors  to  their  officer,  knowing  full  well  that  any  show 
of  reluctance  will  have  the  very  natural  effect  of  arousing  their  sus- 
picions still  further. 

The  bland  and  childlike  soldiers  of  the  Crescent  receive  this 
show  of  obstinacy  quite  complacently,  their  swarthy  countenances 
wreathed  in  knowing  smiles;  but' they  make  no  attempt  at  com- 
pulsion, satisfying  themselves  with  addressing  me  deferentially  as 
"Effendi,"  and  trying  to  coax  me  to  accompany  them.  Seeing 
that  there  is  some  difficulty  about  bringing  me,  the  two  officers 
come  down,  and  I  at  once  affect  righteous  indignation  of  a  mild 
order,  and  desire  to  know  what  they  mean  by  arresting  my  prog- 
ress. They  demand  my  tenkeri  in  a  manner  that  plainly  shows 
their  doubts  of  my  having  one.  The  teskeri  is  produced.  One 
of  the  officers  then  whispers  something  to  the  other,  and  they  both 


TIIKOUGII   EKZINGAN  AKD   EKZEROUM.  411 

glance  knowingly  mysterious  at  the  bicycle,  apologize  for  having 
detained  me,  and  want  to  shake  hands.  Having  read  the  pass- 
port, and  satisfied  themselves  of  my  nationality,  they  attach  some 
deep  mysterious  significance  to  my  journey  in  this  incomprehen- 
sible manner  up  in  this  particular  quarter  ;  but  they  no  longer 
wish  to  offer  any  impediment  to  my  progress,  but  rather  to  render 
me  assistance.  Poor  fellows  !  how  suspicious  they  are  of  their 
great  overgrown  neighbor  to  the  north.  "What  good-humored  fel- 
lows these  Turkish  soldiers  are  !  what  simple-hearted,  overgrown 
children  !  What  a  pity  that  they  are  the  victims  of  a  criminally  in- 
competent government  that  neither  pays,  feeds,  nor  clothes  them  a 
quarter  as  well  as  they  deserve  !  In  the  fearful  winters  of  Erze- 
i-oum,  they  have  been  known  to  have  no  clothing  to  wear  but  the 
linen  suits  provided  for  the  hot  weather.  Their  pay,  insignificant 
though  it  be,  is  as  uncertain  as  gambling  ;  but  they  never  raise  a 
murmur.  Being  by  nature  and  religion  fatalists,  they  cheerfully 
accept  these  undeserved  hardships  as  the  will  of  Allah. 

To-day  is  the  hottest  I  have  experienced  in  Asia  Minor,  and 
soon  after  leaving  the  outpost  I  once  more  encounter  the  ever- 
lasting mountains,  following  now  the  Trebizond  and  Erzingan  car- 
avan trail.  Once  again  I  get  benighted  in  the  mountains,  and  push 
ahead  for  some  time  after  dark.  I  am  beginning  to  think  of  camp- 
ing out  supperless  again  when  I  hear  the  creaking  of  a  buffalo 
araba  some  distance  ahead.  Soon  I  overtake  it,  and,  following  it 
for  half  a  mile  off  the  trail,  I  find  myself  before  an  enclosure  of  sev- 
eral acres,  surrounded  by  a  high  stone  wall  with  quite  imposing 
gateways.  It  is  the  walled  village  of  Houssenbegkhan,  one  of  those 
places  built  especially  for  the  accommodation  of  the  Trebizond 
caravans  in  the  winter.  I  am  conducted  into  a  large  apartment, 
which  appears  to  be  set  apart  for  the  hospitable  accommodation  of 
travellers.  The  apartment  is  found  already  occupied  by  three 
travellers,  who,  from  their  outward  appearance,  might  well  be  taken 
for  cutthroats  of  the  worst  description  ;  and  the  villagers  swarm- 
iu"'  in,  I  am  soon  surrounded  by  the  usual  ragged,  flea-bitten  con- 
gregation. There  are  various  arms  and  warUke  accoutrements 
hanging  on  the  wall,  enough  of  one  kind  or  other  to  arm  a  small 
company.  They  all  belong  to  the  three  travellers,  however ;  my 
modest  little  revolver  seems  really  nothing  compared  with  the  war- 
like display  of  swords,  daggers,  pistols  and  guns  hanging  around  ; 
the  place  looks  like  a  small  armory.     The  first  question  is— as  is 


412 


FROM  SAN  FRAWCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


usual  of  late— "Kuss  orlngilis?"  Some  of  the  younger  and  less 
experienced  men  essay  to  doubt  my  word,  and,  on  their  own  sup- 
position that  I  am  a  Russian,  begin  to  take  unwarrantable  liberties 
with  my  person  ;  one  of  them  steals  up  behind  and  commences 
playing  a  tattoo  on  my  helmet  with  two  sticks  of  wood,  by  way  of 
bravado,  and  showing  his  contempt  for  a  subject  of  the  Czar. 
Turning  round,  I  take  one  of  the  sticks  away  and  chastise  him  with 
it  until  he  howls  for  AUah  to  protect  him,  and  then,  without  at- 
tempting any  sort  of  explanation  to  the  others,  resume  my  seat ; 
one  of  the  travellers  then  Solemnly  places  his  forefingers  together 
and  announces  himself  as  kardash  (my  brother),  at  the  same  time 

j)ointing  significantly 
to  his  choice  assort- 
ment of  ancient  wea- 
pons. I  shake  hands 
with  him  and  remind 
him  that  I  am  some- 
what hungry  ;  where- 
upon he  orders  a  vil- 
lager to  forthwith 
contribute  six  eggs, 
another  butter  to  fry 
them  in,  and  a  third 
bread  ;  a  tezek  fire  is 
already  burning,  and 
with  his  own  hands  he 
fries  the  eggs,  and 
makes  my  ragged  audience  stand  at  a  respectful  distance  while  I 
eat ;  if  I  were  to  ask  him,  he  would  probably  clear  the  room  of 
them  instanter.  About  ten  o'clock  my  impromptu,  friend  and  his 
companion  order  their  horses,  and  buckle  their  arms  and  accoutre- 
ments about  them  to  depart;  my  "brother"  stands  before  me  and 
loads  up  his  flintlock  rifle  ;  it  is  a  fearful  and  wonderful  process  ;  it 
takes  him  at  least  two  minutes  ;  he  does  not  seem  to  know  on  which 
particular  part  of  his  wonderful  paraphernalia  to  find  the  slugs,  the 
powder,  or  the  patching,  and  he  finishes  by  tearing  a  piece  of  rag 
off  a  by-standing  villager  to  place  over  the  powder  in  the  pan. 
"While  he  is  doing  all  this,  and  esj)ecial]y  when  ramming  home  the 
bullet,  he  looks  at  me  as  though  expecting  me  to  come  and  pat  him 
approvingly  on  the  shoulder. 


'  A  Russian,   am   I  ? 


THROUGH   EKZINGAK   AND   ERZEKOtTJI.  413 

When  they  are  gone,  the  third  traveller,  who  is  going  to  remain 
over  night;  edges  up  beside  me,  and  pointing  to  his  own  imposing 
armory,  likewise  announces  himself  as  my  brother  ;  thus  do  I  un- 
expectedly acquii'e  two  brothers  withia  the  brief  space  of  an  even- 
ing. 

The  villagers  scatter  to  their  respective  quarters  ;  quilts  are  pro- 
vided for  me,  and  a  ghostly  light  is  maintained  by  means  of  a  cup 
of  grease  and  a  twisted  rag.  In  one  corner  of  the  room  is  a  paunchy 
youngster  of  ten  or  twelve  summers,  whom  I  noticed  during  the 
evening  as  being  without  a  single  garment  to  cover  his  nakedness  ; 
he  has  partly  inserted  himself  into  a  large,  coarse,  nose-bag,  and 
lies  curled  up  in  that  ridiculous  position,  probably  imagining  him- 
self in  quite  comfortable  quarters.  "  Oh,  wretched  youth  !  "  I  men- 
tally exclaim,  "what  will  you  do  when  that  nose-bag  has  petered 
out  ?  "  and  soon  afterward  I  fall  asleep,  in  happy  consciousness  of 
perfect  security  beneath  the  protecting  shadow  of  brother  number 
two  and  his  formidable  armament  of  ancient  weapons. 

Ten  miles  of  good  ridable  road  from  Houssenbegkhan,  and  I 
again  descend  into  the  valley  of  the  west  fork  of  the  Euphrates, 
crossing  the  river  on  an  ancient  stone  bridge ;  I  left  Houssenbeg- 
khan Ti^-ithout  breakfasting,  preferring  to  make  my  customary  early 
start  and  trust  to  luck.  I  am  beginning  to  doubt  the  propriety  of 
having  done  so,  and  find  myself  casting  involuntary  glances  to- 
ward a  Koordish  camp  that  is  visible  some  miles  to  the  north  of 
my  route,  when,  upon  rounding  a  mountain-spur  jutting  out  into 
the  valley,  I  descry  the  minaret  of  Mamakhatoun  in  the  distance 
ahead.  A  minaret  hereabout  is  a  sui-e  indication  of  a  town  of  suffi- 
cient importance  to  support  a  public  eating-Man,  where,  if  not  a 
vei-y  elegant,  at  least  a  substantial  mefd  is  to  be  obtained.  I  ob- 
tain an  acceptable  breakfast  of  kabobs  and  boiled  sheeps'-trotters  ; 
killing  two  birds  with  one  stone  by  satisf  j-ing  my  own  appetite  and 
at  the  same  time  giving  a  first-class  entertainment  to  a  khan-tul  of 
wonderiug-eyed  people,  by  eating  with  the  khan-jee's  carving-knife 
and  fork  in  preference  to  my  fingers.  Here,  as  at  Houssenbeg- 
khan, there  is  a  splendid,  lai-ge  caravanserai  ;  here  it  is  buUt  chiefly 
of  hewn  stone,  and  almost  massive  enough  for  a  fortress  ;  this  is  a 
mountainous,  elevated  i-egion,  where  the  winters  ai-e  stormy  and 
severe,  and  these  commodious  and  substantial  retreats  are  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  the  safety  of  Erzingan  and  Trebizond  cai-a- 
vans  during  the  winter-. 


414  FROM   RAN  rEANCISCO   TO  TEHEEAM". 

The  country  now  continues  hilly  rather  than  mountainous. 
The  road  is  generally  too  heavy  with  sand  and  dust,  churned  up 
by  the  Erzingan  mule-caravans,  to  admit  of  riding  wherever  the 
grade  is  unfavorable  ;  but  much  good  wheeling  surface  is  encoun- 
tered on  long,  gentle  declivities  and  comparatively  level  stretches. 
During  the  forenoon  I  meet  a  company  of  three  splendidly  armed 
and  mounted  Circassians  ;  they  remain  speechless  with  astonish- 
ment until  I  have  passed  beyond  their  hearing ;  they  then  con- 
clude among  themselves  that  I  am  something  needing  investiga- 
tion ;  they  come  galloping  after  me,  and  having  caught  up,  their 
spokesman  gravely  delivers  himself  of  the  solitary  monosyllable, 
"Euss?"  "Ingilis,"!  reply,  and  they  resume  the  even  tenor  of 
their  way  without  questioning  me  further.  Later  in  the  day  the 
hilly  country  develops  into  a  mountainous  region,  where  the  trail 
intersects  numerous  deep  ravines  whose  sides  are  all  but  perpen- 
dicular. Between  the  ravines  the  riding  is  ofttimes  quite  excel- 
lent, the  composition  being  soft  shale,  that  packs  do^n  hard  and 
smooth  beneath  the  animals'  feet.  Deliciously  cool  streams  flow  at 
the  bottom  of  these  ravines.  At  one  crossing  I  find  an  old  man 
washing  his  feet,  and  mournfully  surveying  sundry  holes  in  the 
bottom  of  his  sandals  ;  the  day  is  hot,  and  I  likewise  halt  a  few 
minutes  to  cool  my  pedal  extremities  in  the  crystal  water.  With 
that  childlike  simplicity  I  have  so  often  mentioned,  and  which  is 
nowhere  encountered  as  in  the  Asiatic  Turk,  the  old  fellow  blandly 
asks  me  to  exchange  my  comparatively  sound  moccasins  for  his 
worn-out  sandals,  at  the  same  time  ruefully  pointing  out  the  di- 
lapidated condition  of  the  latter,  and  looking  as  dejected  as  though 
it  were  the  only  pair  of  sandals  in  the  world. 

This  afternoon  I  am  passing  along  the  same  road  where  Mahmoud 
Ali's  gang  robbed  a  large  party  of  Armenian  harvesters  who  had 
been  south  to  help  harvest  the  wheat,  and  were  returning  home  in  a 
body  with  the  wages  earned  during  the  summer.  This  happened  but 
a  few  days  before,  and  notwithstanding  the  well-known  saying  that 
lightning  never  strikes  twice  in  the  same  place,  one  is  scarcely  so  un- 
impressionable as  not  to  find  himself  involuntarily  scanning  his  sur- 
roundings, half  expecting  to  be  attacked.  Nothing  startling  turns 
up,  however,  and  at  five  o'clock  I  come  to  a  village  which  is  envel- 
oped in  clouds  of  wheat  chaff;  being  a  breezy  evening,  winnow- 
ing is  going  briskly  forward  on  several  threshing-floors.  After 
duly  binning,  I  am  taken  under  the  protecting  wing  of  a  prominent 


TnROTTGII   EEZINGAW   AND   ERZEROUM.  415 

villager,  who  is  walking  about  with  his  hand  in  a  sling,  the  reason 
whereof  is  a  crushed  finger ;  he  is  a  sensible,  intelligent  fellow,  and 
accepts  my  reply  that  I  am  not  a  crushed-finger  hakim,  with  all 
reasonableness  ;  he  provides  a  substantial  supper  of  bread  and 
yaort,  and  then  installs  me  in  a  small,  wiudowless,  unventilated 
apartment  adjoining  the  buffalo-stall,  provides  me  with  quilts, 
lights  a  primitive  grease-lamp,  and  retires.  During  the  evening 
the  entire  female  population  visit  my  dimly-lighted  quarters,  to  sat- 
isfy their  feminine  curiosity  by  taking  a  timid  peep  at  their  neigh- 
bor's strange  guest  and  his  wonderful  araba.  They  imagine  I  am 
asleep  and  come  on  tiptoe  part  way  across  the  room,  craning  their 
necks  to  obtain  a  view  in  the  semi-darkness. 

An  hour's  journey  from  this  village  brings  me  yet  again  into 
the  West  Euphrates  Valle}'.  Just  where  I  enter  the  valley  the  river 
spreads  itself  over  a  wide  stony  bed,  coursing  along  in  the  form  of 
several  comparatively  small  streams.  There  is,  of  course,  no  bridge 
here,  and  in  the  chilly,  almost  frosty,  morning  I  have  to  disrobe  and 
carry  clothes  and  bicycle  across  the  several  channels.  Once  across, 
I  find  myself  on  the  great  Trebizond  and  Persian  caravan  route,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  am  partaking  of  breakfast  at  a  village  thirty-five 
miles  from  Erzeroum,  where  I  learn  with  no  little  satisfaction  that 
my  course  follows  along  the  Euphrates  Valley,  with  an  artificial 
wagon-road,  the  whole  distance  to  the  city.  Not  far  from  the  vil- 
lage the  Euphrates  is  recrossed  on  a  new  stone  bridge.  Just  be- 
yond the  bridge  is  the  camp  of  a  road-engineer's  party,  who  are 
putting  the  finishing  touches  to  the  bridge.  A  person  issues  from 
one  of  the  tents  as  I  approach  and  begins  chattering  away  at  me 
in  French.  The  face  and  voice  indicates  a  female,  but  the  costume 
consists  of  jack-boots,  tight-fitting  broadcloth  pantaloons,  an  or- 
dinary pilot-jacket,  and  a  fez.  Notwithstanding  the  masculine 
apparel,  however,  it  turns  out  not  only  to  be  a  woman,  but  a  Pari- 
sienne,  the  better  half  of  the  Erzeroum  road  engineer,  a  French- 
man, who  now  appears  upon  the  scene.  They  are  both  astonished 
and  delighted  at  seeing  a  "  velocipede,"  a  reminder  of  their  own 
far-off  France,  on  the  Persian  caravan  trail,  and  they  urge  me  to  re- 
main and  partake  of  coffee. 

I  now  encounter  the  first  really  great  camel  caravans,  en  route 
to  Persia  with  tea  and  sugar  and  general  European  merchandise  ; 
they  are  all  camped  for  the  day  alongside  the  road,  and  the  camels 
scattered  about  the  neighboring  hills  in  search  of  giant  thistles 


416  FROM   SAW  FEAWCISCO   TO   TEHEEAK. 

and  other  outlandisli  vegetation,  for  which  the  patient  ship  of  the 
desert  entertains  a  partiality.  Camel  caravans  travel  entirely  at 
night  during  the  summer.  Contrary  to  what,  I  think,  is  a  common 
belief  in  the  Occident,  they  can  endure  any  amount  of  cold 
weather,  but  are  comparatively  distressed  by  the  heat ;  still,  this 
may  not  characterize  all  breeds  of  camels  anymore  than  the  differ- 
ent breeds  of  other  domesticated  animals.  During  the  summer, 
when  the  camels  are  required  to  find  their  own  sustenance  along 
the  road,  a  large  caravan  travels  but  a  wretched  eight  miles  a 
day,  the  remainder  of  the  time  being  occupied  in  filling  his  capa- 
cious thistle  and  camel-thorn  receptacle  ;  this  comes  of  the  scarcity 
of  good  grazing  along  the  route,  compared  with  the  number  of 
camels,  and  the  consequent  necessity  of  wandering  far  and  wide 
in  search  of  pasturage,  rather  than  because  of  the  camel's  absorp- 
tive capacity,  for  he  is  a  comparatively  abstemious  animal.  In 
the  winter  they  are  fed  on  balls  of  barley  flour,  called  nawalla  ; 
on  this  they  keep  fat  and  strong,  and  travel  three  times  the  dis- 
tance. The  average  load  of  a  full-grown  camel  is  about  seven  hun- 
dred pounds. 

Before  reaching  Erzeroum  I  have  a  narrow  escape  from  what 
might  have  proved  a  serious  accident.  I  meet  a  buffalo  araiia 
carrying  a  long  projecting  stick  of  timber  ;  the  sleepy  buffaloes  pay 
no  heed  to  the  bicycle  until  I  arrive  opposite  their  heads,  when  they 
give  a  sudden  lurch  sidewise,  swinging  the  stick  of  timber  across 
my  path  ;  fortunately  the  road  happens  to  be  of  good  width,  and  by 
a  very  quick  swerve  I  avoid  a  collision,  but  the  tail  end  of  the  tim- 
ber just  brushes  the  rear  wheel  as  I  wheel  past.  Soon  after  noon 
I  roll  into  Erzeroum,  or  rather,  up  to  the  Trebizond  gate,  and  dis- 
mount. Erzeroum  is  a  fortified  city  of  considerable  importance, 
both  from  a  commercial  and  a  military  point  of  view  ;  it  is  sur- 
rounded by  earthwork  fortifications,  from  the  parapets  of  which 
large  siege  guns  frown  forth  upon  the  surrounding  country,  and 
forts  are  erected  in  several  commanding  positions  round  about,  like 
watch-dogs  stationed  outside  to  guard  the  city.  Patches  of  snow 
linger  on  the  Palantokan  Mountains,  a  few  miles  to  the  south  ;  the 
Deve  Boyun  Hills,  a  spur  of  the  greater  Palantokans,  look  down  on 
the  city  from  the  east ;  the  broad  valley  of  the  West  Euphrates 
stretches  away  westward  and  northward,  terminating  at  the  north 
in  another  mountain  range. 

Eepairing  to  the  English  consulate,  I  am  gratified  at  finding 


THROUGH   EEZINGAN  AND   EEZEROUM.  417 

several  letters  awaiting  me,  and  furthermore  by  the  cordial  hos- 
pitality extended  by  Yusuph  Effendi,  an  Assyrian  gentleman,  the 

charge  d'affaires  of  the  consulate  for  the  time  being,  Colonel  E , 

the  consul,  having  left  recently  for  Trebizond  and  England,  in  con- 
sequence of  numerous  sword-wounds  received  at  the  hands  of  a 
desperado  who  invaded  the  consulate  for  plunder  at  midnight.  The 
Colonel  was  a  general  favorite  in  Erzeroum,  and  is  being  tenderly 
caiTied  (Thursday,  September  3,  1885)  to  Trebizond  on  a  stretcher 
by  relays  of  wQling  natives,  no  less  than  forty  accompanying  hiin 
on  the  road.  Yusuph  Effendi  tells  me  the  story  of  the  whole  la- 
mentable affair,  pausing  at  intervals  to  heap  imprecations  on  the 
head  of  the  malefactor,  and  to  bestow  eulogies  on  the  wounded 
consul's  character. 

It  seems  that  the  door-keeper  of  the  consulate,  a  native  of  a 
neighboring  Armenian  village,  was  awakened  at  midnight  by  an 
acquaintance  from  the  same  village,  who  begged  to  be  allowed  to 
sliare  his  quarters  till  morning.  No  sooner  had  the  servant  ad- 
mitted him  to  his  room  than  he  attacked  him  with  his  sword,  in- 
tending— as  it  afterward  leaked  out — to  murder  the  whole  family, 
rob  the  house,  and  escape.  The  servant's  cries  for  assistance  awak- 
ened Colonel  E ,  who  came  to  his  rescue  without  taking  the 

trouble  to  provide  himself  with  a  weapon.  The  man,  infuriated 
at  the  detection  and  the  prospect  of  being  captured  and  brought 
to  justice,  turned  savagely  on  the  consul,  inflicting  several  severe 
wounds  ou  the  head,  hands,  and  face.  The  consul  closed  with  him 
and  threw  him  down,  and  called  for  his  wife  to  bring  his  revolver. 
The  wretch  now  begged  so  piteously  for  his  life,  and  made  such 
specious  promises,  that  the  consul  magnanimously  let  him  up,  neg- 
lecting— doubtless  owing  to  his  own  dazed  condition  from  the 
scalp  wounds — to  disarm  him.  Immediately  he  found  himself  re- 
leased he  commenced  the  attack  again,  cutting  and  slashing  like 
a  demon,  knocking  the  revolver  from  the  consul's  already  badly 
wounded  hand  while  he  yet  hesitated  to  pull  the  trigger  and  take 
his  treacherous  assailant's  life.  The  revolver  went  off  as  it  struck 
the  floor  and  wounded  the  consul  himself  in  the  leg — broke  it? 
The  servant  now  rallied  sufficiently  to  come  to  his  assistance,  and 
together  they  succeeded  in  disarming  the  robber,  who,  however, 
escaped  and  bolted  up-stairs,  followed  by  the  servant  with  the 
sword.  The  consul's  wife,  with  praiseworthy  presence  of  mind, 
now  appeared  with  a  second  revolver,  which  her  husband  grasped 
27 


418  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

in  Lis  left  hand,  the  right  being  almost  hacked  to  pieces.  Dazed 
and  faint  with  the  loss  of  blood,  and,  moreover,  blinded  by  the 
blood  flowing  from  the  scalp-wounds,  it  was  only  by  sheer  strength 
of  will  that  he  could  keep  from  falling.  At  this  juncture  the  ser- 
vant unfortunately  appeared  on  the  stairs,  returning  from  an  un- 
successful pursuit  of  the  robber.  Mistaking  the  servant  with  the 
sword  in  his  hand  for  the  desperado  returning  to  the  attack,  and 
realizing  his  own  helpless  condition,  the  consul  fired  two  shots  at 
him,  wounding  him  with  both  shots.  The  would-be  murderer  is 
now  (September  3,  1885),  captured  and  in  durance  vile  ;  the  servant 
lies  here  in  a  critical  condition,  and  the  consul  and  his  sorrowing 
family  are  en  route  to  England. 

Having  determined  upon  resting  here  until  Monday,  I  spend  a 
good  part  of  Friday  looking  about  the  city.  The  population  is  a 
mixture  of  Turks,  Armenians,  Russians,  Persians,  and  Jews.  Here 
I  first  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  Persian  tchai-khan  (t«a-drinking 
shop).  With  the  exception  of  the  difference  in  the  beverages,  there 
is  little  difference  between  a  tchai-khan  and  a  kahvay-khan,  although 
in  the  case  of  a  swell  establishment,  the  tchai-khan  blossoms  forth 
quite  gaudily  with  scores  of  colored  lamps.  The  tea  is  served  scald- 
ing hot  in  tiny  glasses,  which  are  first  half-filled  "with  loaf-sugar.  If 
the  proprietor  is  desirous  of  honoring  or  pleasing  a  new  or  distin- 
guished customer,  he  drops  in  lumps  of  sugar  until  it  protrudes 
above  the  glass.  The  tea  is  made  in  a  samovar — a  brass  vessel,  hold- 
ing perhaps  a  gallon  of  water,  with  a  hollow  receptacle  in  the  centre 
for  a  charcoal  fire.  Strong  tea  is  made  in  an  ordinary  queen's-ware 
teapot  that  fits  into  the  hollow  ;  a  small  portion  of  this  is  poured 
into  the  glass,  which  is  then  filled  up  with  hot  water  from  a  tap  in 
the  samovar. 

There  is  a  regular  Persian  quarter  in  Erzeroum,  and  I  am 
not  suffered  to  stroU  through  it  without  being  initiated  into 
the  fundamental  difference  between  the  character  of  the  Persians 
and  the  Turks.  When  an  Osmanli  is  desirous  of  seeing  me  ride 
the  bicycle,  he  goes  honestly  and  straightforwardly  to  work  at 
coaxing  and  worrying  ;  except  in  very  rare  instances  they  have 
seemed  incapable  of  resorting  to  deceit  or  sharp  practice  to  gain 
their  object.  Not  so  childlike  and  honest,  however,  are  oui-  new 
acquaintances,  the  Persians.  Several  merchants  gather  round  me, 
and  pretty  soon  they  cunningly  begin  asking  me  how  much  I  will  sell 
the  bicycle  for.    "  Fifty  Hras,"  I  reply,  seeing  the  deep,  deep  scheme 


THROUGH   EKZINGAN   AND   EKZEKOUM.  419 

hidden  beneath  the  superficial  fairness  of  their  ohservations,  and 
thinking  this  will  quash  all  further  commercial  negotiations.  But 
the  wily  Persians  ai-e  not  so  easily  disposed  of  as  this.  "  Bring  it 
round  and  let  us  see  how  it  is  ridden,"  they  say,  "  and  if  we  like  it 
we  will  purchase  it  for  fifty  liras,  and  perhaps  make  you  a  present 
besides."  A  Persian  would  rather  try  to  gain  an  end  by  deceit 
than  by  honest  and  above-board  methods,  even  if  the  former  were 
more  trouble.  Lying,  cheating,  and  deception  is  the  universal 
rule  among  them  ;  honesty  and  straightforwardness  are  unknown 
■virtues.  Anyone  whom  they  detect  telling  the  truth  or  acting 
honestly  they  consider  a  simpleton  unfit  to  transact  business. 

The  missionaries  and  their  families  are  at  present  tenting  out, 
five  miles  south  of  the  city,  in  a  romantic  little  ravine  called  Kirk- 
dagheman,  or  the  place  of  the  forty  mills  ;  and  on  Saturday  morn- 
ing I  receive  a  pressing  invitation  to  become  their  guest  during  the 
remainder  of  my  stay.  The  Erzeroum  mission  is  represented  by 
Jlr.  Chambers,  his  brother — now  absent  on  a  tour — their  respec- 
tive families,  and  Miss  Powers.  Yusuph  Effendi  accompanies  us 
out  to  the  camp  on  a  spendid  Arab  steed,  that  curvets  gracefuUj 
the  whole  way.  Myself  and  the — other  missionary  people  (bicycle 
work  at  Sivas,  and  again  at  Erzeroum)  ride  more  sober  and  deco- 
ous  animals.  Kirkdagheman  is  found  to  be  near  the  entrance  to 
a  pass  over  the  Palantokan  Mountains.  Half  a  dozen  small  tents 
are  pitched  beneath  the  only  grove  of  trees  for  many  a  mile  around. 
A  dancing  stream  of  crystal  water  furnishes  the  camp  with  an 
abundance  of  that  necessary,  as  also  a  lavish  supply  of  such  music 
as  babbling  brooks  coursing  madly  over  pebbly  beds  are  wont  to 
furnish.  To  this  particular  section  of  the  little  stream  legendary 
"  lore  has  attached  a  story  which  gives  the  locality  its  name,  Kirk- 
dagheman : 

"  Once  upon  a  time,  a  worthy  widow  found  herself  the  happy 
possessor  of  no  less  than  forty  small  grist-mills  strung  along  this 
stream.  Soon  after  her  husband's  death,  the  lady's  amiable  quali- 
ties— and  not  unlikely  her  forty  mills  into  the  bargain — attracted 
the  admiration  of  a  certain  wealthy  ownei-  of  flocks  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  he  sought  her  hand  in  marriage.  'No,'  said  the 
lady,  who,  being  a  widow,  had  perhaps  acquired  wisdom  ;  '  no  ;  I 
have  forty  sous,  each  one  faithfully  laboring  and  contributing 
cheerfully  toward  my  support ;  therefore,  I  have  no  use  for  a  hus- 
band.'    '  I  will  kill  your  forty  sous,  and  compel  you  to  become  my 


420  FROM    SAN   FKANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

wife,'  replied  the  suitor,  in  a  huff  at  being  rejected.  And  he  went 
and  sheared  all  his  sheep,  and,  with  the  multitudinous  fleeces, 
dammed  up  the  stream,  caused  the  water  to  flow  into  other  chan- 
nels, and  thereby  rendered  the  widow's  forty  mills  useless  and  un- 
productive. With  nothing  but  ruination  before  her,  and  seeing  no 
alternative,  the  widow's  heart  finally  softened,  and  she  suffered  her- 
self to  be  wooed  and  won.  The  fleeces  were  removed,  the  stream 
returned  to  its  proper  channel,  and  the  merry  whir  of  the  forty  mills 
henceforth  mingled  harmoniously  with  the  bleating  of  the  sheep." 

Two  days  are  Spent  at  the  quiet  missionary  camp,  and  thor- 
oughly enjoyed.  It  seems  like  an  oasis  of  home  life  in  the  sur- 
rounding desert  of  uncongenial  social  conditions.  I  eagerly  de- 
vour the  contents  of  several  American  newspapers,  and  embrace 
the  opportunities  of  the  occasion,  even  to  the  extent  of  nui'siug  the 
babies  (missionaries  seem  rare  folks  for  babies),  of  which  there  are 
three  in  camp.  The  altitude  of  Erzeroum  is  between  six  thousand 
and  seven  thousand  feet  ;  the  September  nights  are  delightfully 
cool,  and  there  ai-e  no  blood-thirsty  mosquitoes.  I  am  assigned  a 
sleeping-tent  close  alongside  a  small  waterfall,  whose  splashing 
music  is  a  soporific  that  holds  me  in  the  bondage  of  beneficial  re- 
pose until  breakfast  is  announced  both  mornings  ;  and  on  Monday 
morning  I  feel  as  though  the  hunger,  the  irregular  sleep,  and  the 
rough-and-tumble  dues  generally  of  the  past  four  weeks  were  but 
a  troubled  dream.  Again  the  bicycle  contributes  its  curiosity- 
quickening  and  question-exciting  powers  for  the  benefit  of  the 
sluggish-minded  pupils  of  the  mission  school.  The  Persian  consul 
and  his  sons  come  to  see  me  ride  ;  he  is  highly  interested  upon 
learning  that  I  am  travelling  on  the  wheel  to  the  Persian  capital, 
and  he  vises  my  passport  and  gives  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
the  Pasha  Khan  of  Ovahjik,  the  first  village  I  shall  come  to  beyond 
the  frontier. 

It  is  nearly  3  p.m.,  September  7th,  when  I  bid  farewell  to  everj-- 
body,  and  wheel  out  through  the  Persian  Gate,  accompanied  by 
Mr.  Chambers  on  horseback,  who  rides  part  way  to  the  Deve 
Boyun  (camel's  neck)  Pass.  On  the  way  out  he  tells  me  that  he 
has  been  intending  taking  a  journey  through  the  Caucasus  this 
autumn,  but  the  difficulties  of  obtaining  permission,  on  account  of 
his  being  a  clergyman,  are  so  great — a  special  permission  having  to 
be  obtained  from  St.  Petersburg — that  he  has  about  relinquished 
the  idea  for  the  present  season. 


THROUGH   ERZINGAN   AND   ERZEKOUM.  421 

Deve  Boyun  Pass  leads  over  a  comparatively  low  range  of  bills. 
It  was  here  where  the  Turkish  army,  in  November,  1877,  made 
their  last  gallant  attempt  to  stem  the  tide  of  disaster  that  had,  by 
the  fortunes  of  war  and  the  incompetency  of  their  commanders, 
set  in  irresistibly  against  them,  before  taking  refuge  inside  the 
waUs  of  the  city.  An  hour  after  parting  from  Mr.  Chambers  I  am 
wheeling  briskly  down  the  same  road  on  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
pass  where  Mukhtai-  Pasha's  ill-fated  column  was  drawn  into  the 
fatal  ambuscade  that  suddenly  turned  the  fortunes  of  the  day  against 
them.  "While  rapidly  gliding  down  the  gentle  gradient,  I  fancy  I 
can  see  the  Cossack  regiments,  advancing  toward  the  Turkish  posi- 
tion, the  unwary  and  over-confident  Osmanlis  leaping  from  their 
intrenchments  to  advance  along  the  road  and  drive  them  back  ; 
now  I  come  to  the  Nabi  Tchai  ravines,  where  the  concealed  masses 
of  Russian  infantry  suddenly  sprang  up  and  cut  off  their  retreat ;  I 
fancy  I  can  see — chug  !  wh-u-u-p  !  thud  ! — stars,  and  see  them 
pretty  distinctly,  too,  for  while  gazing  curiously  about,  locating  the 
Eussian  ambushment,  the  bicycle  strikes  a  sand-hole,  and  I  am  fa- 
vored with  the  worst  header  I  have  experienced  for  many  a  day. 
I  am — or  rather  was,  a  minute  ago — bowling  along  quite  briskly  ; 
the  header  ti-eats  me  to  a  fearful  shaking  up  ;  I  am  sore  all  over 
the  next  morning,  and  present  a  sort  of  a  stiff-necked,  woe-begone 
appearance  for  the  next  four  days.  A  bent  handle-bar  and  a 
sHghtly  twisted  rear  wheel  fork  likewise  forcibly  remind  me  that, 
while  I  am  beyond  the  reach  of  repair  shops,  it  will  be  Solomon- 
like ^viSdom  on  my  part  to  henceforth  survey  battle-fields  with  a 
larger  margin  of  regard  for  things  more  immediately  interesting. 

From  the  pass,  my  road  descends  into  the  broad  and  cultivated 
valley  of  the  Passin  Sa  ;  the  road  is  mostly  ridable,  though  heavy 
with  dust.  Part  way  to  Hassen'  Kaleh  I  am  compelled  to  use  con"^ 
siderable  tact  to  avoid  trouble  vsdth  a  gang  of  riotous  kalir-jees  whom 
I  overtake  ;  as  I  attempt  to  wheel  past,  one  of  them  wantonly  essays 
to  thrust  his  stick  into  the  wheel ;  as  I  spring  from  the  saddle  for. 
sheer  self-protection,  they  think  I  have  dismounted  to  attack  him, 
and  his  comrades  rush  forward  to  his  protection,  brandishing  their 
sticks  and  swords  in  a  menacing  manner.  Seeing  himself  rein- 
forced, as  it  were,  the  bold  aggressor  raises  his  stick  as  though  to 
strike  me,  and  peremptorily  oi'ders  me  to  hin  and  haidi  !  Very  natu- 
rally I  refuse  to  remount  the  bicycle  while  suiTOunded  by  this  evi- 
dently mischievous  crew  ;  there  are  about  twenty  of  them,  and  it  re- 


422 


FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


quires  mueh  self-control  to  prevent  a  conflict,  in  which,  I  am  per- 
suaded, somebody  would  Lave  been  hurt ;  however,  I  finally  manage 
to  escape  their  undesirable  company  and  ride  off  amid  a  fusillade  of 
stones. 

This  incident  reminds  me  of  Yusuph  Effendi's  warning,  that 
even  though  I  had  come  thus  far  without  a  zaptieh  escort,  I  should 
require  one  now,  owing  to  the  more  lawless  disposition  of  the  peo- 
ple near  the  frontier.  Near  dark  I  reach  Hassan  K^leh,  a  large 
village  nestling  under  the  shadow  of  its  former  importance  as  a 
fortified  town,  and  seek  the  accommodation  of  a  Persian  tchaikhan  ; 


Wantonly  Assaulted. 


it  is  not  very  elaborate  or  luxurious  accommodation,  consisting 
solely  of  tiny  glasses  of  sweetened  tea  in  the  public  room  and  a 
shake-down  in  a  rough,  unfurnished  apartment  over  the  stable ; 
eatables  have  to  be  obtained  elsewhere,  but  it  matters  little  so  loner 
as  they  are  obtainable  somewhere.  During  the  evening  a  Persian 
troubadour  and  story-teller  entertains  the  patrons  of  the  tchai-khan 
by  singing  ribaldish  songs,  twanging  a  tambourine-like  instrument, 
and  telling  stories  in  a  sing-song  tone  of  voice.  In  deference  to 
the  mixed  nationality  of  his  audience,  the  sagacious  troubadour 
wears  a  Turkish  fez,  a  Persian  coat,  and  a  Russian  metallic-faced 
belt ;  the  burden  of  his  songs  are  of  Erzeroum,  Erzingan,  and  Is- 


TIIEOUGII   EEZINGAN   AND   ERZEKOUM. 


423 


pahan  ;  the  Russians,  it  would  appear,  are  too  few  and  unpopular 
to  justify  risking  the  displeasure  of  the  Turks  by  singing  any  Kus- 
sian  songs.  So  fai*  as  my  comprehension  goes,  the  stories  are 
chiefly  of  intrigue  and  love  affaii-s  among  pashas,  and  would  quickly 
bring  the  righteous  retribution  of  the  Lord  Chamberlain  down 
about  his  ears,  were  he  telling  them  to  an  English  audience. 

I  have  no  small  difficulty  in  getting  the  bicycle  up  the  narrow 


'^c' 


and  crooked  stairway  into  my  sleeping 
apartment ;  there  is  no  fastening  of  any 
kind  on  the  door,  and  the  proprietor 
seems  determined  upon  treating  every 
subject  of  the  Shah  in  Hassan  Kaleh  to 
a  private  confidential  exhibition  of  my- 
self and  bicycle,  after  I  have  retired  to 
bed.   It  must  be  near  midnight,  I  think, 

when  I  am  again  awakened  from  my  uneasy,  oft-disturbed  slumbers 
by  murmuring  voices  and  the  shuffling  of  feet ;  examining  the  bi- 
cycle by  the  feeble  glimmer  of  a  classic  lamp  are  a  dozen  meddle- 
some Persians.  Annoyed  at  their  unseemly  midnight  intrusion,  and 
at  being  repeatedly  awakened,  I  rise  up  and  sing  out  at  them  rather 
authoratively  ;  I  have  exhibited  the  marifet  of  my  Smith  &  Wesson 
dui'iug  the  evening,  and  these  intruders  seem  really  afraid  I  might 


424  FROM   SAN"  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

be  going  to  practise  on  them  with  it.  The  Persians  are  ap- 
parently timid  mortals;  they  evidently  regard  me  as  a  strange 
being  of  unknown  temperament,  who  might  possibly  break  loose 
and  encompass  their  destruction  on  the  slightest  provocation,  and 
the  proprietor  and  another  equally  intrepid  individual  hurriedly 
come  to  my  couch,  and  pat  me  soothingly  on  the  shoulders,  after 
■which  they  all  retire,  and  I  am  disturbed  no  more  till  morning. 

The  "  rocky  road  to  Dublin  "  is  nothing  compared  to  the  road 
leading  eastward  from  Hassan  Kaleh  for  the  first  few  miles,  but 
afterward  it  improves  into  very  fair  'wheeling.  Eleven  miles  down 
the  Passin  Su  Valley  brings  me  to  the  Armenian  village  of  Euipri 
Kui.  Having  breakfasted  before  starting  I  wheel  on  without  halting, 
crossing  the  Araxes  Eiver  at  the  junction  of  the  Passin  Su,  on  a 
very  ancient  stone  bridge  known  as  the  Tchehankerpi,  or  the  bridge 
of  pastures,  said  to  be  over  a  thousand  years  old.  Hearing  Dele 
Baba  Pass,  a  notorious  place  for  robbers,  I  pass  through  a  village 
of  sedentary  Koords.  Soon  after  leaving  the  village  a  vrild-looking 
Koord,  mounted  on  an  angular  sorrel,  overtakes  me  and  wants  me 
to  employ  him  as  a  guard  while  going  through  the  pass,  backing 
up  the  offer  of  his  presumably  valuable  services  by  unsheathing  a 
semi-rusty  sword  and  waving  it  vaUantly  aloft.  He  intimates,  by 
tragically  graphic  pantomime,  that  unless  I  traverse  the  pass  under 
the  protecting  shadow  of  his  ancient  and  rusty  blade,  I  will  be 
likely  to  pay  the  penalty  of  my  rashness  by  having  my  throat  cut. 
Yusuph  Effendi  and  the  Erzeroum  missionaries  have  thoughtfully 
warned  me  against  venturing  through  the  Dele  Baba  Pass  alone, 
advising  me  to  wait  and  go  through  with  a  Persian  caravan  ;  but 
this  Koord  looks  like  anything  but  a  protector  ;  on  the  contrary,  I 
am  inclined  to  regard  him  as  a  suspicious  character  himself,  inter- 
viewing me,  perhaps,  with  ulterior  ideas  of  a  more  objectionable 
character  than  that  of  faithfully  guarding  me  through  the  Dele 
Baba  Pass.  Showing  him  the  shell-extracting  mechanism  of  my 
revolver,  and  explaining  the  rapidity  with  which  it  can  be  fired,  I 
give  him  to  understand  that  I  feel  quite  capable  of  guarding  my- 
self, consequently  have  no  earthly  use  for  his  services.  A  tea  car- 
avan of  some  two  hundred  camels  are  resting  near  the  approach  to 
the  pass,  affording  me  an  excellent  opportunity  of  having  company 
through  by  waiting  and  journeying  with  them  in  the  night ;  but 
warnings  of  danger  have  been  repeated  so  often  of  late,  and  they 
have  proved  themselves  groundless  so  invariably  that  I  should  feel 


THROUGH   ERZINGAN   AND   EEZEROUM. 


425 


the  taunts  of  self-reproach  were  I  to  find  myself  hesitating  to  pro- 
ceed on  their  account. 

Passing  over  a  mountain  spur,  I  descend  into  a  rocky  canon, 
■with  perpendicular  walls  of  rock  towering  skyward  like  giant  bat- 
tlements, inclosing  a  space  not  over  fifty  yards  wide  ;  through 
this  rxms  my  road,  and  alongside  it  babbles  the  Dele  Baba  Su. 
The  canon  is  a  wild,  lonely-looking  spot,  and  looks  quite  appro- 
priate to  the  reputation  it  bears.  Professor  Vambery,  a  recog- 
nized authority  on  Asiatic  matters,  and  whose  party  encountered  a 
gang  of  marauders  here,  says  the  Dele  Baba  Pass  bore  the  same 


A  Suspicious  Offer  of  Protection. 

unsavory  reputation  that  it  bears  to-day  as  far  back  as  the  time  of 
Herodotus.  However,  suffice  it  to  say,  that  I  get  through  without 
molestation  ;  mounted  men,  armed  to  the  teeth,  like  almost  every- 
body else  hereabouts,  are  encountered  in  the  pass  ;  they  invariably 
halt  and  look  back  after  me  as  though  endeavoring  to  comprehend 
who  and  what  I  am,  but  that  is  aU.  Emerging  from  the  canon,  I 
foUow  in  a  general  course  the  tortuous  windings  of  the  Dele  Baba 
Su  through  another  ravine-riven  battle-field  of  the  late  war,  and  up 
toward  its  source  in  a  still  more  mountainous  and  elevated  region 
beyond. 


CIIAPTEK  XVm. 

MOUNT  ARARAT  AND  KOORDISTAN. 

The  shades  of  evening  are  beginning  to  settle  down  over  the 
wild  mountainous  country  round  about.  It  is  growing  uncom- 
fortably chilly  for  this  early  in  the  evening,  and  the  prospects  look 
favorable  for  a  supperless  and  most  disagreeable  night,  when  I  de- 
scry a  village  perched  in  an  opening  among  the  mountains  a  mile 
or  thereabouts  off  to  the  right.  Eepairing  thither,  I  find  it  to  be 
a  Kpordish  village,  where  the  hovels  are  more  excavations  than 
buildings  ;  buffaloes,  horses,  goats,  chickens,  and  human  beings  all 
find  shelter  under  the  same  roof  ;  their  respective  quarters  are  noth- 
ing but  a  mere  railing  of  rough  poles,  and  as  the  question  of  ven- 
tilation is  never  even  thought  of,  the  effect  upon  one's  olfactoi-y 
nerves  upon  entering  is  anything  but  reassuring.  The  filth  and 
rags  of  these  people  is  something  abominable  ;  on  account  of  the 
chilliness  of  the  evening  they  have  donned  their  heavier  raiment ; 
these  have  evidently  had  rags  patched  on  top  of  other  rags  for 
years  past  until  they  have  gradually  developed  into  thick-quilted 
garments,  in  the  innumerable  seams  of  which  the  most  disg-usting 
entomological  specimens,  bred  and  engendered  by  their  wretched 
mode  of  existence,  live  and  perpetuate  their  kind.  However,  re- 
pulsive as  the  outlook  most  assuredly  is,  I  have  no  alternative  but 
to  cast  my  lot  among  them  till  morning. 

I  am  conducted  into  the  Sheikh's  apartment,  a  small  room  par- 
titioned off  with  a  pole  from  a  stable-full  of  horses  and  buffaloes, 
and  where  darkness  is  made  visible  by  the  sickly  gHmmer  of  a 
grease  lamp.  The  Sheikh,  a  thin,  saUow-faced  man  of  about  forty 
years,  is  reclining  on  a  mattress  in  one  corner  smoking  cigarettes ; 
a  dozen  ill-conditioned  ragamuffins  are  squatting  about  in  various 
attitudes,  while  the  rag,  tag,  and  bobtaU  of  the  population  crowd 
into  the  buffalo-stable  and  survey  me  and  the  bicycle  from  outside 
the  partition-pole. 

A  circular  wooden  tray  containing  an  abundance  of  bread,  a 
bowl  of  yaort,  and  a  small  quantity  of  peculiar  stringy  cheese  that 


MOUNT  ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN.  427 

resembles  chunks  of  dried  codfish,  warped  and  twisted  in  the  dry- 
ing, is  brought  in  and  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  Every- 
body in  the  room  at  once  gather  round  it  and  begin  eating  with  as 
little  formality  as  so  many  wild  animals  ;  the  Sheikh  silently  mo- 
tions for  me  to  do  the  same.  The  yaort  bowl  contains  one  solitary 
wooden  spoon,  with  which  they  take  turns  at  eating  mouthfuls. 
One  is  compelled  to  draw  the  line  somewhere,  even  under  the  most 
uncompromising  circumstances,  and  I  naturally  draw  it  against 
eating  yaort  with  this  same  wooden  spoon  ;  making  small  scoops 
with  pieces  of  bread,  I  dip  up  yaorl  and  eat  scoop  and  aU  together. 
These  particular  Koords  seem  absolutely  ignorant  of  anything  in 
the  shape  of  mannerliness,  or  of  consideration  for  each  other  at  the 
table.  When  the  yaort  has  been  dipped  into  twice  or  thrice  all 
round,  the  Sheikh  coolly  confiscates  the  bowl,  eats  part  of  what  is 
left,  pours  water  into  the  remainder,  stirs  it  up  with  his  hand, 
and  deliberately  drinks  it  all  up ;  one  or  two  others  seize  all  the 
cheese,  utterly  regardless  of  the  fact  that  nothing  remains  for  my- 
self and  their  companions,  who,  by  the  by,  seem  to  regard  it  as  a 
perfectly  natural  proceeding. 

After  supper  they  return  to  their  squatting  attitudes  around  the 
coom,  and  to  a  resumption  of  theu'  never-ceasing  occupation  of 
scratching  themselves.  The  eminent  economist  who  lamented  the 
wasted  energy  represented  in  the  wagging  of  all  the  dogs'  tails  in 
the  world,  ought  to  have  travelled  through  Asia  on  a  bicycle  and 
have  been  compelled  to  hob-nob  with  the  villagers ;  he  would  un- 
doubtedly have  wept  with  sorrow  at  beholding  the  amount  of  this 
same  wasted  energy,  represented  by  the  above-mentioned  occupa- 
tion of  the  people.  The  most  loathsome  member  of  this  interest- 
ing company  is  a  wretched  old  hypocrite  who  rolls  his  eyes  about 
and  heaves  a  deep-drawn  sigh  of  Allah !  every  few  minutes,  and 
then  looks  furtively  at  myself  and  the  Sheikh  to  observe  its  effects ; 
his  sole  garment  is  a  round-about  mantle  that  reaches  to  his  knees, 
and  which  seems  to  have  been  manufactured  out  of  the  tattered 
remnants  of  other  tattered  remnants  tacked  carelessly  together  with- 
out regard  to  shape,  size,  color,  or  previous  condition  of  cleanliness ; 
his  thin,  scrawny  legs  are  bare,  his  long  black  hair  is  matted  and 
unkempt,  his  beard  is  stubby  and  unlovely  to  look  upon,  his  small 
black  eyes  twinkle  in  the  semi-darkness  like  ferret's  eyes,  while 
soap  and  water  have  to  all  appearances  been  altogether  stricken  from 
the  category  of  his  personal  requu-ements. 


428  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

Probably  it  is  nothing  but  the  lively  workings  of  my  own  im- 
agination, but  this  wretch  appears  to  me  to  entertain  a  decided 
preference  for  my  society,  constantly  insinuating  himself  as  near  me 
as  possible,  necessitating  constant  watchfulness  on  my  part  to  avoid 
actual  contact  with  him  ;  eternal  vigilance  is  in  this  case  the  price 
of  what  it  is  unnecessary  to  expatiate  upon,  further  than  to  say 
that  self-preservation  becomes,  under  such  conditions,  pre-eminently 
the  first  law  of  Occidental  nature.  Soon  the  sallow-faced  Sheikh 
suddenly  bethinks  himself  that  he  is  in  the  august  presence  of  a 
Jiakim,  and  beckoning  me  to  his  side,  displays  an  ugly  wound  on  his 
knee  which  has  degenerated  into  a  running  sore,  and  which  he  says 
was  done  with  a  sword  ;  of  course  he  wants  me  to  perform  a  cure. 
While  examining  the  Sheikh's  knee,  another  old  party  comes  for- 
ward and  unbares  his  arm,  also  wounded  with  a  sword.  This  not 
unnaturally  sets  me  to  wondering  what  sort  of  company  I  have  got- 
ten into,  and  how  they  came  by  sword  wounds  in  these  peaceful 
times  ;  but  my  inquisitiveness  is  compelled  to  remaiu  in  abeyance 
to  my  limited  Hnguistic  powers.  Having  nothing  to  give  them  foi 
the  wounds,  I  recommend  an  application  of  warm  salt  water  twice 
a  day  ;  feehng  pretty  certain,  however,  that  they  will  be  too  lazy 
and  trifling  to  foUow  the  advice.  Before  dispersing  to  their  re- 
spective quarters,  the  occupants  of  the  room  range  themselves  in  a 
row  and  go  through  a  reUgious  performance  lasting  fully  half  an 
hour ;  they  make  almost  as  much  noise  as  howling  dervishes, 
meanwhile  exercising  themselves  quite  violently.  Having  made 
themselves  holier  than  ever  by  these  exercises,  some  take  theu*  de- 
parture, others  make  up  couches  on  the  floor  with  sheepskins  and 
quilts. 

Thin  ice  covers  the  stOl  pools  of  water  when  I  resume  my  toil- 
some route  over  the  mountains  at  daybreak,  a  raw  vrind  comes 
whistling  from  the  east,  and  until  the  sun  begins  to  warm  things 
up  a  little,  it  is  necessary  to  stop  and  buffet  occasionally  to  prevent 
benumbed  hands.  Obtaining  some  small  lumps  of  wheaten  dough 
cooked  crisp  in  hot  grease,  like  unsweetened  doughnuts,  from  a 
horseman  on  the  road,  I  push  ahead  toward  the  summit  and  then 
down  the  eastern  slope  of  the  mountains ;  rounding  an  abutting 
hill  about  9.30,  the  glorious  snow-crowned  peak  of  Ararat  suddenly 
bursts  upon  my  vision  ;  it  is  a  good  foi-ty  leagues  away,  but  even 
at  this  distance  it  dwarfs  everything  else  in  sight.  Although  sur- 
rounded by  giant  mountain  chains  that  traverse  the  country  at 


MOUNT   ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN.  429 

eveiy  conceivable  angle,  Ararat  stands  alone  in  its  solitary  grandeur, 
n  glistening  white  cone  rearing  its  giant  height  proudly  and  con- 
spicuously above  surrounding  eminences ;  about  mountains  that 
ai-e  insignificant  only  in  comparison  with  the  white-robed  monarch 
that  has  been  a  beacon-light  of  sacred  history  since  sacred  history 
has  been  in  existence. 

Descending  now  toward  the  Alashgird  Plain,  a  prominent 
theati-e  of  action  during  the  war,  I  encounter  splendid  wheeling  for 
some  miles  ;  but  once  fairly  down  on  the  level,  cultivated  plain,  the 
road  becomes  heavy  with  dust.  Villages  dot  the  broad,  expansive 
plain  in  every  direction  ;  conical  stacks  of  tezek  are  observable 
among  the  houses,  piled  high  up  above  the  roofs,  speaking  of  com- 
mendable forethought  for  the  approaching  cold  weather.  In  one 
of  the  Armenian  villages  I  am  not  a  httle  surprised  at  finding  a 
lone  German  ;  he  says  he  prefers  an  agricultural  life  in  this  coun- 
try with  all  its  disadvantages,  to  the  hard,  grinding  struggle  for  ex- 
istence, and  the  compulsory  military  service  of  the  Fatherland. 
'"Here,"  he  goes  on  to  explain,  "there  is  no  foamy  lager,  no  monej^, 
no  comfort,  no  amusement  of  any  kind,  but  there  is  individual  lib- 
erty, and  it  is  very  easy  making  a  living  ;  therefore  it  is  for  me  a 
better  country  than  Deutschland."  "Everybody  to  their  liking," 
I  think,  as  I  continue  on  across  the  plain  ;  but  for  a  European  to 
be  Uving  in  one  of  these  Uttle  agricultural  villages  comes  the  near- 
est to  being  buried  alive  of  anything  I  know  of.  The  road  im- 
proves in  hai'dness  as  I  proceed  eastward,  but  the  peculiar  disad- 
vantages of  being  a  conspicuous  and  incomprehensible  object  on  a 
populous  level  plain  soon  becomes  manifest.  Seeing  the  bicycle 
glistening  in  the  sunlight  as  I  ride  along,  horsemen  come  wddly 
galloping  from  villages  miles  away.  Some  of  these  wonderstiicken 
people  endeavor  to  pilot  me  along  branch  trails  leading  to  their 
vUlnges,  but  the  main  caravan  trail  is  now  too  easily  distinguishable 
for  any  little  deceptions  of  this  kind  to  succeed.  Here,  on  the 
Alashgird  Plain,  I  first  hear  myself  addressed  as  "Hamsherri,"  a 
term  which  now  takes  the  place  of  Eflendi  for  the  next  five  hun- 
dred miles. 

Owing  to  the  disgust  engendered  by  my  unsavory  quarters  in 
the  wretched  Dele  Baba  village  last  night,  I  have  determined  upon 
seeking  the  friendly  shelter  of  a  wheat-shock  again  to-night,  pre- 
ferring the  chances  of  being  frozen  out  at  midnight  to  the  en- 
tomological possibilities  of  village  hovels.     Accordingly,  near  sun- 


430  FROM   SAN"   FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN". 

set,  I  repair  to  a  village  not  far  from  tlie  road,  for  the  purpose  of 
obtaining  something  to  eat  before  seeking  out  a  rendezvous  for 
the  night.  It  turns  out  to  be  the  Koordish  village  of  Malosman, 
and  the  people  sire  found  to  be  so  immeasurably  superior  in  every 
particular  to  their  kinsfolk  of  Dele  Baba  that  I  forthwith  cancel 
my  determination  and  accept  their  proffered  hospitality.  The 
Malosmanlis  are  comparatively  clean  and  comfortable  ;  are  reason- 
ably well-dressed,  seem  well-to-do,  and  both  men  and  women  are,  on 
the  average,  handsomer  than  the  people  of  any  village  I  have  seen 
for  days  past.  Almost  all  possess  a  conspicuously  beautiful  set  of 
teeth,  pleasant,  smiling  countenances  and  good  physique ;  they 
also  seem  to  have,  somehow,  acquired  easy,  agreeable  manners. 

The  secret  of  the  whole  difference,  I  opine,  is  that,  instead  of  be- 
ing located  among  the  inhospitable  soil  of  barren  hUls  they  are  cul- 
tivating the  productive  soil  of  the  Alashgird  Plain,  and,  being  situ- 
ated on  the  great  Persian  caravan  trail,  they  find  a  ready  market 
for  their  grain  in  supplying  the  caravans  in  winter.  Their  Sheikh 
is  a  handsome  and  good-natured  young  feUow,  sporting  white 
clothes  trimmed  profusely  with  red  braid  ;  he  spends  the  evening 
in  my  company,  examining  the  bicycle,  revolver,  telescopic  pencil- 
case,  L.  A.  W.  badge,  etc.,  and  hands  me  his  carved  ivory  case  to 
select  cigarettes  from.  It  would  have  required  considerable  in- 
ducements to  have  trusted  either  my  L.  A.  W.  badge  or  the  Smith 
&  "Wesson  in  the  custody  of  any  of  our  unsavory  acquaintances  of 
List  night,  notwithstanding  their  great  outward  show  of  piety. 
There  are  no  deep-drawn  sighs  of  Allah,  nor  ostentatious  praying 
among  the  Malosmanlis,  but  they  bear  the  stamp  of  superior 
trustworthiness  plainly  on  their  faces  and  their  bearing.  There 
appears  to  be  far  more  jocularity  than  religion  among  these  pros- 
perous villagers,  a  trait  that  probably  owes  its  development  to 
their  apparent  security  from  want ;  it  is  no  newly  discovered  trait 
of  human  character  to  cease  all  prayers  and  supplications  whenever 
the  granary  is  overflowing  with  plenty,  and  to  commence  devo- 
tional exercises  again  whenever  the  supply  runs  short.  This  rule 
would  hold  good  among  the  childlike  natives  here,  even  more  so 
than  it  does  among  our  more  enlightened  selves. 

I  sally  forth  into  the  chilly  atmosphere  of  early  morning  from 
Malosman,  and  wheel  eastward  over  an  excellent  road  for  some 
miles  ;  an  obliging  native,  en  route  to  the  harvest  field,  turns  his 
buflalo  araba  around  and  carts  me  over  a  bridgeless  stream,  but  sev- 


MOUNT  ARAEAT   AND   KOOEDISTAN.  431 

eral  others  have  to  be  forded  ere  reaching  Kiraklian,  where  I  obtaha 
breakfast.  Here  I  am  required  to  show  my  teskei-i  to  the  mudir,  and 
the  zaptieh  escorting  me  thither  becomes  greatly  mystified  over  the 
circumstance  that  I  am  a  Prank  and  yet  am  wearing  a  Mussuhnan 
head-band  ai'ound  my  helmet  (a  new  one  I  picked  up  on  the  road) ; 
this  little  fact  appeals  to  him  as  something  savoring  of  an  attempt 
to  disguise  myself,  and  he  grows  amusingly  mysterious  while  whis- 
peringiy  bringing  it  to  the  mudir's  notice.  The  habitual  serenity 
and  complacency  of  the  corpulent  mudir's  mind,  however,  is  not 
to  be  unduly  disturbed  by  trifles,  and  the  untutored  zaptieh's  dis- 
position to  attach  some  significant  meaning  to  it,  meets  with  noth- 
ing from  his  more  enlightened  superior  but  the  silence  of  uncon- 
cern. 

More  streams  have  to  be  forded  ere  I  finally  emerge  on  to 
higher  ground  ;  all  along  the  Alashgird  Plain,  Ararat's  gUsteniug 
peak  has  been  peeping  over  the  mountain  framework  of  the  plain 
like  a  white  beacon-light  showing  above  a  dark  rocky  shore  ;  but 
approaching  toward  the  eastern  extremity  of  the  plain,  my  road 
hugs  the  base  of  the  intervening  hills  and  it  temporarily  disapjDears 
from  view.  In  this  portion  of  the  country,  camels  are  frequently 
employed  in  bringing  the  harvest  from  field  to  village  threshing- 
floor  ;  it  is  a  curious  sight  to  see  these  awkwardly  moving  animals 
walking  along  beneath  tremendous  loads  of  straw,  nothing  visible 
but  their  heads  and  legs.  Sometimes  the  meandering  course  of 
the  Euplu-ates — now  the  eastern  fork,  and  called  the  Moorad-Chai 
— brings  it  near  the  mountains,  and  my  road  leads  over  blufls  im- 
mediately above  it ;  the  historic  river  seems  well  supplied  with  trout 
hereabouts,  I  can  look  down  from  the  bluffs  and  observe  speckled 
beauties  sporting  about  in  its  pellucid  waters  by  the  score.  To- 
ward noon  I  fool  away  fifteen  minutes  trying  to  beguile  one  of  them 
into  swallowing  a  grasshopper  and  a  bent  pin,  but  they  are  not  the 
guileless  creatures  they  seem  to  be  when  surveyed  from  an  elevated 
bluff,  so  they  steadily  refuse  whatever  blandishments  I  offer.  An 
hour  later  I  reach  the  village  of  Daslische,  inhabited  by  a  mixed 
population  of  Turks  and  Persians.  At  a  shop  kept  by  one  of  the 
latter  I  obtain  some  bread  and  ghee  (clarified  butter),  some  tea,  and 
a  handful  of  wormy  raisins  for  dessert ;  for  these  articles,  besides 
building  a  fire  especially  to  prepare  the  tea,  the  unconscionable 
Pei-sian  charges  the  awful  sum  of  two  piastres  (ten  cents) ;  where- 
upon the  Turks,  who  have  been  interested  spectators  of  the  whole 


432  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

nefarious  proceeding,  commence  to  abuse  him  roundly  for  over- 
cliarging  a  stranger  unacquainted  with  the  prices  of  the  locality, 
calliBg  him  the  son  of  a  burnt  father,  and  other  names  that  tingle 
unpleasantly  in  the  Persian  ear,  as  though  it  was  a  matter  of  pounds 
sterling. 

Beyond  Daslische,  Ararat  again  becomes  visible  ;  the  country 
immediately  around  is  a  ravine-riven  plateau,  covered  with  bowld- 
ers. An  hour  after  leaving  Daslische,  while  climbing  the  eastern 
slope  of  a  ravine,  four  rough-looking  footmen  appear  on  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  slope  ;  they  are  following  after  me,  and  shouting 
"  Kardash  !  "  These  people  with  their  old  swords  and  pistols  con- 
spicuously about  them,  always  raise  suspicions  of  brigands  and  evil 
characters  under  such  circumstances  as  these,  so  I  continue  on  up 
the  slope  without  heeding  their  shouting  until  I  observe  two  of 
them  turn  back ;  I  then  wait,  out  of  curiosity,  to  see  what  they 
really  want.  They  approach  with  broad  grins  of  satisfaction  at 
having  overtaken  me  :  they  have  run  all  the  way  from. Daslische  in 
order  to  overtake  me  and  see  the  bicycle,  having  heard  of  it  after 
I  had  left.  I  am  now  but  a  short  distance  from  the  Russian  fron- 
tier on  the  north,  and  the  first  Turkish  patrol  is  this  afternoon 
patrolling  the  road  ;  he  takes  a  wondering  interest  in  my  wheel,  but 
doesn't  ask  the  oft-repeated  question,  "  Euss  or  Ingiliz  ? "  It  is 
presumed  that  he  is  too  familiar  with  the  Muscovite  "  phiz ''  to 
make  any  such  question  necessary. 

About  four  o'clock  I  overtake  a  jack-booted  horseman,  who 
straightway  proceeds  to  try  and  make  himself  agreeable  ;  as  his 
flowing  remarks  are  mostly  unintelligible,  to  spare  him  from  wasting 
the  sweetness  of  his  eloquence  on  the  desert  air  around  me,  I  reply, 
"  Turkchi  binmus."  Instead  of  checking  the  impetuous  torrent  of 
his  remarks  at  hearing  this,  he  canters  companiouably  alongside, 
and  chatters  more  persistently  than  ever.  "  1-ur-k-chi  b-i-n- 
m-u-s  !  "  I  repeat,  becoming  rather  annoyed  at  his  persistent  gar- 
rulousuess  and  his  refusal  to  understand.  This  has  the  desired 
effect  of  reducing  him  to  silence  ;  but  he  canters  doggedly  behind, 
and,  after  a  space  creeps  up  alongside  again,  and,  pointing  to  a 
large  stone  building  which  has  now  become  visible  at  the  base  of  a 
mountain  on  the  other  side  of  the  Euphrates,  timidly  ventures 
upon  the  explanation  that  it  is  the  Armenian  Gregorian  Monastery 
of  Sup  Ogwanis  (St.  John).  Finding  me  more  favorably  disposed 
to  hsten  than  before,  he  explains  that  he  himself  is  an  Armenian, 


MOUNT   ARARAT   AND    KOORDISTAN.  433 

is  acquainted  with  the  priests  of  the  monastery,  and  is  going  to 
remain  there  over  night ;  he  then,  proposes  that  I  accompany  him 
thither,  and  do  likewise. 

I  am,  of  course,  only  too  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  experienc- 
ing something  out  of  the  common,  and  gladly  avail  myself  of  the 
opportunity  ;  moreover,  monasteries  and  religious  institutions  in 
general,  have  somehow  always  been  pleasantly  associated  in  my 
thoughts  as  inseparable  accompaniments  of  orderliness  and  clean- 
liness, and  I  smile  serenely  to  myself  at  the  happy  prospect  of 
snowy  sheets,  and  scrupulously  clean  cooking. 

Crossing  the  Euphrates  on  a  once  substantial  stone  bridge,  now 
in  a  sadly  dilapidated  condition,  that  was  doubtless  built  when 
Armenian  monasteries  enjoyed  palmier  days  than  the  present,  we 
skirt  the  base  of  a  compact  mountain  and  in  a  few  minutes  alight  at 
the  monastery  village.  Exit  immediately  all  visions  of  cleauliness ; 
the  village  is  in  no  wise  different  from  any  other  cluster  of  mud 
hovels  round,  about,  and  the  rag-bedecked,  flea-bitten  objects  that 
come  outside  to  gaze  at  us,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible,  compare 
unfavorably  even  with  the  Dele  Baba  Eoords.  There  is  apparent 
at  once,  however,  a  difference  between  the  respective  dispositions 
of  the  two  peoples  :  the  Koords  are  inclined  to  be  pig-headed  and 
obtrusive,  as  though  possessed  of  their  full  share  of  the  spirit  of 
self-assertion  ;  the  Sup  Ogwanis  people,  on  the  contrary,  act  like 
beiugs  utterly  destitute  of  anythiug  of  the  kind,  cowering  beneath 
one's  look  and  shunning  immediate  contact  as  though  habitually 
overcome  with  a  sense  of  their  own  inferiority.  The  two  priests 
come  out  to  see  the  bicycle  ridden  ;  they  are  stout,  bushy-whisk- 
ered, greasy-looking  old  jokers,  with  small  twinkling  black  eyes, 
whose  expression  would  seem  to  betoken  anything  rather  than 
saintliness,  and,  although  the  Euphrates  flows  hard  by,  they  are 
evidently  united  in  their  enmity  against  soap  and  water,  if  in  noth- 
ing else  ;  in  fact,  judging  from  outward  appearances,  water  is 
about  the  only  thing  concerning  which  they  practise  abstemious- 
ness. The  monastery  itself  is  a  massive  structure  of  hewn  stone, 
surrounded  by  a  high  wall  loop-holed  for  defence  ;  attached  to  the 
wall  inside  is  a  long  row  of  small  rooms  or  cells,  the  habitations  of 
the  monks  in  more  prosperous  days ;  a  few  of  them  are  occupied 
at  present  by  the  older  men. 

At  5.30  P.M.,  the  bell  tolls  for  evening  service,  and  I  accompany 
my  guide  into  the  monastery  ;  it  is  a  large,  empty-looking  edifice 
28 


434  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHEKAN. 

of  simple,  massive  arcliitecture,  and  appears  to  have  been  built 
with  a  secondary  purpose  of  withstanding  a  siege  or  an  assault, 
and  as  a  place  of  refuge  for  the  people  in  troublous  times  ;  con- 
taining among  other  secular  appliances  a  large  brick  oven  for  bak- 
ing bread.  During  the  last  war,  the  place  was  actually  bombarded 
by  the  Kussians  in  an  effort  to  dislodge  a  body  of  Koords  who  had 
taken  possession  of  the  monastery,  and  from  behind  its  solid  walls, 
harassed  the  Eiissian  troops  advancing  toward  Erzeroum.  The 
patched  up  holes  made  by  the  Russians'  shots  are  pointed  out,  as 
also  some  light  earthworks  thrown  up  on  the  Eussian  position 
across  the  river.  In  these  degenerate  days  one  portion  of  the 
building  is  utilized  as  a  storehouse  for  grain  ;  hundreds  of  pigeons 
are  cooing  and  roosting  on  the  crossbeams,  making  the  place  their 
permanent  abode,  passing  in  and  out  of  narrow  openings  near  the 
roof  ;  and  the  whole  interior  is  in  a  disgustingly  filthy  condition. 
Eude  fresco  representations  of  the  different  saints  in  the  Grego- 
rian calendar  formerly  adorned  the  walls,  and  bright  colored  tiles 
embellished  the  approach  to  the  altar.  Nothing  is  distinguishable 
these  days  but  the  crumbling  and  half-obliterated  evidences  of 
past  glories  ;  both  priests  and  people  seem  hopelessly  sunk  in  the 
quagmire  of  avariciousness  and  low  cunning  on  the  one  hand,  and 
of  blind  ignorance  and  superstition  on  the  other.  Clad  in  greasy 
and  seedy-looking  cowls,  the  priests  go  through  a  few  nonsensical 
manoeuvres,  consisting  chiefly  of  an  ostentatious  affectation  of  rever- 
ence toward  an  altar  covered  with  tattered  drapery,  by  never  turn- 
ing their  backs  toward  it  while  they  walk  about,  Bible  in  hand, 
mumbling  and  sighing.  My  self-constituted  guide  and  mj'self 
comprise  the  whole  congregation  during  the  "services."  When- 
ever the  priests  heave  a  pai-ticularly  deep-fetched  sigh  or  faU  to 
mumbling  their  prayers  on  the  double  quick,  they  invariably  cast 
a  furtive  glance  toward  me,  to  ascertain  whether  I  am  noticing  the 
impenetrable  depth  of  their  holiness.  They  needn't  be  uneasy  on 
that  score,  however  ;  the  most  casual  observer  cannot  fail  to  per- 
ceive that  it  is  really  and  truly  impenetrable — so  impenetrable,  in 
fact,  that  it  will  never  be  unearthed,  not  even  at  the  day  of  judg- 
ment. In  about  ten  minutes  the  priests  quit  mumbling,  bestow  a 
Pharisaical  kiss  on  the  tattered  coverlet  of  their  Bibles,  graciously 
suffer  my  jack-booted  companion  to  do  likewise,  as  also  two  or 
three  ragamuffins  who  have  come  sneaking  in  seemingly  for  that 
special  purpose,  and  then  retreat  hastily  behind  a  patch-work  cur- 


MOUNT  ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN.  435 

tain  ;  the  nest  minute  they  reappear  in  a  cowllesa  condition,  their 
countenances  wearing  an  expression  o£  intense  relief,  as  though 
happy  at  having  gotten  through  with  a  disagreeable  task  that  had 
been  weighing  heavily  on  their  minds  all  day. 

We  are  invited  to  take  supper  with  their  Keverences  in  their 
cell  beneath  the  walls,  which  they  occupy  in  common.  The  repast 
consists  of  yaort  andpillau,  to  which  is  added,  by  way  of  compli- 
ment to  visitors,  five  salt  fishes  about  the  size  of  sardines.  The 
most  greasy-looking  of  the  divines  thoughtfully  helps  himself  to  a 
couple  of  the  fishes  as  though  they  were  a  delicacy  quite  irresist- 
ible, leaving  one  apiece  for  us  others.  Having  created  a  thirst 
with  the  salty  fish,  he  then  seizes  what  remains  of  the  yaort,  pours 
water  into  it,  mixes  it  thoroughly  together  with  his  unwashed  hand, 
and  gulps  down  a  full  quart  of  the  swill  with  far  greater  gusto  than 
mannerliness.  Soon  the  priests  commence  eructating  aloud,  which 
appears  to  be  a  well-understood  signal  that  the  limit  of  their  re- 
spective absorptive  capacities  are  reached,  for  three  hungry-eyed 
laymen,  who  have  been  watching  our  repast  with  seemingly  be- 
grudging countenances,  now  carry  the  wooden  tray  bodily  off  into 
a  corner  and  ravenously  devour  the  remnants.  Everything  about 
the  cell  is  abnormally  filthy,  and  I  am  glad  when  the  inevitable 
cigarettes  are  ended  and  we  retire  to  the  quarters  assigned  us  in 
the  village.  Here  my  companion  produces  from  some  mysterious 
corner  of  his  clothing  a  pinch  of  tea  and  a  few  lumps  of  sugar.  A 
villager  quickly  kindles  a  fire  and  cooks  the  tea,  performing  the 
services  eagerly,  in  anticipation  of  coming  in  for  a  modest  share  of 
what  to  him  is  an  unwonted  luxury.  Being  rewarded  with  a  tiny 
glassful  of  tea  and  a  lump  of  sugar,  he  places  the  sweet  morsel  in 
his  mouth  and  sucks  the  tea  through  it  with  i3,oisy  satisfaction,  pro- 
longing the  presumably  delightful  sensation  thereby  produced  to 
fully  a  couple  of  minutes.  During  this  brief  indulgence  of  his 
palate,  a  score  of  his  ragged  co-religionists  stand  around  and  regard 
him  with  mingled  envy  and  covetousness  ;  but  for  two  whole  min- 
utes he  occupies  his  proud  eminence  in  the  lap  of  comparative 
luxury,  and  between  slow,  lingering  sucks  at  the  tea,  regards  their 
envious  attention  with  studied  indifference.  One  can  scarcely  con- 
ceive of  a  more  utterly  wretched  people  than  the  monastic  com- 
munity of  Sup  Ogwanis  ;  one  would  not  be  surprised  to  find  them 
envying  even  the  pariah  curs  of  the  country. 

The  wind  blows  raw  and  chilly  from  off  the  snowy  slopes  of 


436  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEI-IEEAN. 

Ararat  next  morning,  and  the  shivering,  half-clad  wretches  shuffle 
off  toward  the  fields  and  pastures,  with  blue  noses  and  unwilling 
faces,  humping  their  backs  and  shrinking  within  themselves  and 
wearing  most  lugubiious  countenances  ;  one  naturally  falls  to  won- 
dering what  they  do  in  the  winter.  The  independent  villagers  of 
the  surrounding  country  have  a  tough  enough  time  of  it,  worrying 
through  the  cheerless  winters  of  a  treeless  and  mountainous  coun- 
try ;  but  they  at  least  have  no  domestic  authority  to  obey  but  their 
own  personal  and  family  necessities,  and  they  consume  the  days 
huddled  together  in  their  unventilated  hovels  over  a  smouldering 
tezek  fire  ;  but  these  people  seem  but  helpless  dolts  under  the  vas-. 
salage  of  a  couple  of  crafty-looking,  coarse-grained  priests,  who  re- 
gard them  with  less  consideration  than  they  do  the  monastery  buffa- 
loes. 

Eleven  miles  over  a  mostly  ridable  trail  brings  me  to  the  large 
village  of  Dyadin.  Dyadin  is  marked  on  my  map  as  quite  an  im- 
portant place,  consequently  I  approach  it  with  every  assurance  of 
obtaining  a  good  breakfast.  My  inquiries  for  refreshments  are 
met  with  importunities  of  bin  bacalem,  from  five  hundred  of  the 
rag-tag  and  bob-tail  of  the  frontier,  the  rowdiest  and  most  incon- 
siderate mob  imaginable.  In  their  eagerness  and  impatience  to 
see  me  ride,  and  their  exasperating  indifference  to  my  own  press- 
ing wants,  some  of  them  tell  me  bluntly  there  is  no  bread  ;  others, 
more  considerate,  hurry  away  and  bring  enough  bread  to  feed 
a  dozen  people,  and  one  fellow  contributes  a  couple  of  onions. 
Pocketing  the  onions  and  some  of  the  bread,  I  mount  and  ride 
away  from  the  madding  crowd  with  whatever  despatch  is  possible, 
and  retire  into  a  secluded  dell  near  the  road,  a  mile  from  town,  to 
eat  my  frugal  breakfast  in  peace  and  quietness.  While  thus  engaged, 
it  is  with  veritable  savage  delight  that  I  hear  a  company  of  horse- 
men go  furiously  galloping  past  ;  they  are  Dyadin  people  endea- 
voring to  overtake  me  for  tlie  kindly  purpose  of  worrying  me  out 
of  my  senses,  and  to  prevent  me  even  eating  a  bite  of  bread  un- 
seasoned with  their  everlasting  gabble.  Although  the  road  from 
Dyadin  eastward  leads  steadily  upward,  they  fancy  that  nothing 
less  than  a  wild,  sweeping  gallop  will  enable  them  to  accomplish 
their  fell  purpose  ;  I  listen  to  their  clattering  hoof-beats  dying 
away  in  the  dreamy  distance,  with  a  grin  of  positively  malicious 
satisfaction,  hoping  sincerely  that  they  will  keep  galloping  onward 
for  the  next  twenty  miles. 


MOUjSTT  ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN.  437 

No  such  happy  consummation  of  my  wishes  occurs,  however  ; 
a  couple  of  miles  up  the  ascent  I  find  them  hobnobbing  with  some 
Persian  caravan  men  and  patiently  awaiting  my  appearance,  having 
learned  from  the  Persians  that  I  had  not  yet  gone  past.  Mingled 
with  the  keen  disappointment  of  overtaking  them  so  quickly,  is 
the  pleasure  of  witnessing  tlie  Persians'  camels  regaling  themselves 
on  a  patch  of  juicy  thistles  of  most  luxuriant  growth  ;  the  avidity 
with  which  they  attack  the  great  prickly  vegetation,  and  the  ex- 
pression of  satisfaction,  utter  and  peculiar,  that  characterizes  a 
camel  while  munching  a  giant  thistle  stalk  that  protrudes  two  feet 
out  of  his  mouth,  is  simply  indescribable. 

Fi-om  this  pass  I  descend  into  the  Aras  Plain,  and,  behold  the 
gigantic  form  of  Ararat  rises  up  before  me,  seemingly  but  a  few 
miles  away  ;  as  a  matter  of  fact  it  is  about  twenty  miles  distant, 
but  with  nothing  intervening  between  myself  and  its  tremendous 
proportions  but  the  level  plain,  the  distance  is  deceptive.  No  hu- 
man habitations  are  visible  save  the  now  familiar  black  tents  of 
Koordish  tribesmen  away  off  to  the  north,  and  as  I  ride  along  I  am 
overtaken  by  a  sensation  of  being  all  alone  in  the  company  of  an 
overshadowing  and  awe-inspiring  presence.  One's  attention  seems 
irresistibly  attracted  toward  the  mighty  snow-crowned  monarch, 
as  though  the  immutable  law  of  attraction  were  sensibly  exerting 
itself  to  draw  lesser  bodies  to  it,  and  all  other  objects  around  seemed 
dwarfed  into  insignificant  proportions.  One  obtains  a  most  com- 
prehensive idea  of  Ararat's  17,325  feet  when  viewing  it  from  the 
Aras  Plain,  as  it  rises  sheer  from  the  plain,  and  not  from  the 
shoulders  of  a  range  that  constitutes  of  itself  the  greater  part  of 
the  height,  as  do  many  mountain  peaks.  A  few  miles  to  the  east- 
ward is  Little  Ararat,  an  independent  conical  peak  of  12,800  feet, 
without  snow,  but  conspicuous  and  distinct  from  surrounding 
mountains ;  its  proportions  are  completely  dwarfed  and  over- 
shadowed by  the  nearness  and  bulkiness  of  its  big  brother.  The 
Aras  Plain  is  lava-strewn  and  uncultivated  for  a  number  of  miles  ; 
the  spongy,  spreading  feet  of  innumerable  camels  have  worn  paths 
in  the  hard  lava  deposit  that  makes  the  wheeling  equal  to  English 
roads,  except  for  occasional  stationary  blocks  of  lava  that  the  ani- 
mals have  systematically  stepped  over  for  centuries,  and  which  not 
infrequently  block  the  narrow  trail  and  compel  a  dismount.  Evi- 
dently Ararat  was  once  a  volcano  ;  the  lofty  peak  which  now 
presents  a  wintry  appearance  even  in  the  hottest  summer  weather. 


438 


FEOM   SAW   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


formerly  belelied  forth  lurid  flames  that  lit  up  the  surroTinding 
country,  and  poured  out  fiery  torrents  of  molten  lava  that  stratified 
the  abutting  hiUs,  and  spread  like  an  overwhelming  flood  over  the 
Aras  Plain.  Abutting  Ararat  on  the  veest  are  stratiform  hills,  the 
strata  of  which  are  plainly  distinguishable  from  the  Persian  trail, 
and  which,  were  their  inclination  continued,  would  strike  Ararat 
at  or  near  the  summit.  This  would  seem  to  indicate  the  laj'ers  to 
be  representations  of  the  mountain's  former  volcanic  overflowings. 
I  am  sitting  on  a  block  of  lava  making  an  outline  sketch  of  Ara- 
rat, when  a  peasant  happens  along  with  a  bullock-load  of  cucum- 
bers which  he  is 
taking  to  the 
Koordish '  camjjs ; 
he  is  pretty  badly 
scared  at  finding 
himself  all  alone 
on  the  Aras  Plain 
with  such  a  non- 
descript and  dan- 
gerous-looking 
object  as  a  helmet- 
ed  wheelman,  and 
when  I  halt  him 
with  inquiries 
concerning  the 
nature  of  his  wai'es 
he  turns  pale  and 
becomes  almost 
speechless  with 
fright.  He  would 
empty  his  sacks  as 
a  peace-ofieriiig  at  my  feet  without  venturing  upon  a  remon- 
strance, were  he  ordered  to  do  so  ;  and  when  I  relieve  him  of  but 
one  solitary  cucumber,  and  pay  him  more  than  he  would  obtain 
for  it  among  the  Koords,  he  becomes  stupefied  with  astonishment; 
when  he  continues  on  his  way  he  hardly  knows  whether  he  is  on 
his  head  or  his  feet.  An  hour  later  I  arrive  at  Kizil  Dizah,  the  last 
village  in  Turkish  teri'itory,  and  an  official  station  of  considerable 
importance,  where  passports,  caravan  permits,  etc.,  of  everybody 
passing  to  or  from  Persia  have  to  be  examined.     An  officer  here 


Well  Guarded  at  Lunch. 


MOUNT  ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN.  439 

provides  me  with  refreshments,  and  while  generously  permitting 
the  population  to  come  in  and  enjoy  the  extraordinary  spectacle  of 
seeing  me  fed,  he  thoughtfully  stations  a  man  with  a  stick  to  keep 
them  at  a  respectful  distance.  A  later  hour  in  the  afternoon  finds 
me  truudhng  up  a  long  acclivity  leading  to  the  summit  of  a  low 
mountain  ridge  ;  arriving  at  the  summit  I  stand  on  the  boundaiy- 
line  between  the  dominions  of  the  Sultan  and  the  Shah,  and  I  pause 
a  minute  to  take  a  brief,  retrospective  glance. 

The  cyclometer,  affixed  to  the  bicycle  at  Coastautinople,  now 
registers  within  a  fraction  of  one  thousand  miles  ;  it  has  been  on 
the  whole  an  arduous  thousand  miles,  but  those  who  in  the  forego- 
ing pages  have  followed  me  through  the  strange  and  varied  experi- 
ences of  the  journey  will  agree  with  me  when  I  say  that  it  hag 
proved  more  interesting  than  arduous  after  all.  I  need  not  here 
express  any  blunt  opinions  of  the  different  people  encountered  ;  it 
is  enough  that  my  observations  concerning  them  have  been  jotted 
down  as  I  have  mingled  with  them  and  their  characteristics  from 
day  to  day  ;  almost  without  exception,  they  have  treated  me  the 
best  they  knew  how  ;  it  is  only  natural  that  some  should  know  how 
better  than  others. 

Bidding  farewell,  then,  to  the  land  of  the  Crescent  and  the  home 
of  the  unspeakable  Osmauh,  I  wheel  down  a  gentle  slope  into  a 
mountain-environed  area  of  cultivated  fields,  where  Persian  peas- 
ants are  busy  gathering  their  harvest.  The  strange  apparition  ob- 
served descending  from  the  summit  of  the  boundary  attracts  uni- 
versal attention  ;  I  can  hear  them  calling  out  to  each  other,  and  can 
see  horsemen  come  wildly  galloping  from  every  direction.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  road  in  my  immediate  vicinity  is  alive  with  twenty 
prancing  steeds ;  some  are  bestrode  by  men  who,  from  the  superior 
quality  of  their  clothes  and  the  gaudj'  trappings  of  their  horses, 
are  evidently  in  good  circumstances  ;  others  by  wild-looking,  bare- 
legged bipeds,  whose  horses'  trappings  consist  of  nothing  but  a 
bridle.  The  transformation  brought  about  by  crossing  the  moun- 
tain ridge  is  novel  and  complete  ;  the  fez,  so  omnipresent  through- 
out the  Ottoman  dominions,  has  disappeared,  as  if  by  magic ;  the  bet- 
ter class  Persians  wear  tall,  brimless  black  hats  of  Astrakan  lamb's 
wool ;  some  of  the  peasantry  wear  an  xinlovely,  close-fitting  skull- 
cap of  thick  gray  felt,  that  looks  wonderfully  like  a  bowl  clapped 
on  top  of  their  heads,  others  sport  a  huge  woolly  head-dress  like  the 
Koumanians ;  this  latter  imparts  to  them  a  fierce,  war-like  appear- 


440  FROM   SAN   FKANCISCO  TO  TEnERAN. 

ance,  that  the  meek-eyed  Persian  ryot  (tiller  of  the  soil)  is  far  from 
feeling.  The  national  gai-ment  is  a  sort  of  frock-coat  gathered  at 
the  waist,  and  with  a  skirt  of  ample  fulness,  reaching  nearly  to  the 
knees ;  among  the  wealthier  class  the  material  of  this  garment  is 
usually  cloth  of  a  solid,  dark  color,  and  among  the  lyots  or  peas- 
antry, of  calico  or  any  cheap  fabric  they  can  obtain.  Loose-fitting 
pantaloons  of  European  pattern,  and  sometimes  top-boots,  with 
tops  ridiculously  ample  in  their  looseness,  characterize  the  nether 
garments  of  the  better  classes ;  the  ryots  go  mostly  bare-legged  in 
summer,  and  wear  loose,  slipper-like  foot-gear  ;  the  soles  of  both 
boots  and  shoes  are  frequently  pointed,  and  made  to  turn  up  and 
inwards,  after  the  fashion  in  England  centuries  ago. 

Nightfall  overtakes  me  as,  after  traveUing  several  miles  of  vari- 
able road,  I  commence  following  a  winding  trail  down  into  the  val- 
ley of  a  tributary  of  the  Arasces  toward  Ovahjik,  where  resides  the 
Pasha  Khan,  to  whom  I  have  a  letter ;  but  the  crescent-shaped 
moon  sheds  abroad  a  silvery  glimmer  that  exerts  a  softening  influ- 
ence upon  the  mountains  outlined  against  the  ever-arching  dome, 
from  whence  here  and  there  a  star  begins  to  twinkle.  It  is  one  of 
those  beautiful,  cahn  autumn  evenings  when  all  nature  seems 
hushed  in  peaceful  slumbers ;  when  the  stars  seem  to  first  peep 
cautiously  from  the  impenetrable  depths  of  their  hiding-place,  and 
then  to  commence  blinking  benignantly  and  approvingly  upon  the 
world  ;  and  when  the  moon  looks  almost  as  though  fair  Luna  has 
been  especially  decorating  herself  to  embellish  a  scene  that  without 
her  lovely  presence  would  be  incomplete.  Such  is  my  first  autumn 
evening  beneath  the  cloudless  skies  of  Persia. 

Soon  the  village  of  Ovahjik  is  reached,  and  some  peasants  guide 
me  to  the  residence  of  the  Pasha  Ehan.  The  servant  who  presents 
my  letter  of  introduction  fills  the  untutored  mind  of  his  master 
with  wonderment  concerning  what  the  peasants  have  told  him  about 
the  bicycle.  The  Pasha  Khan  makes  his  appearance  without  having 
taken  the  trouble  to  open  the  envelope.  He  is  a  dull-faced,  unin- 
teUectual-looking  personage,  and  without  any  preliminary  palaver 
he  says  :  "Bin  bacalem,"  in  a  dictatorial  tone  of  voice.  " Sacalem 
yole  lazim,  bacalem  saba,"  I  reply,  for  it  is  too  dark  to  ride  on  un- 
known ground  this  evening.  "  £in  bacalem  !  "  repeats  the  Pasha 
Khan,  even  more  dictatorial  than  before,  ordering  a  servant  to  bring 
a  tallow  candle,  so  that  I  can  have  no  excuse.  There  appears  to 
be  such  a  total  absence  of  all  consideration  for  myself  that  I  am  not 


MOUNT  ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN. 


441 


disposed  to  regard  very  favorably  or  patiently  the  obtrusive  med- 
dlesomeness of  two  younger  men — whom  I  afterward  discover  to 
be  sons  of  the  Pasha  Khan — who  seem  almost  inclined  to  take  the 
bicycle  out  of  my  charge  altogether,  in  their  excessive  impatience 
and  inordinate  inquisitiveness  to  examine  everything  about  it.  One 
of  them,  thinking  the  cyclometer  to  be  a  watch,  puts  his  ear  down 
to  see  if  he  can  hear  it  tick,  and  then  persists  in  fingering  it  about, 
to  the  imminent  danger  of  the  tally-pin.     After  telling  him  several 


The  Persistent  Son  is  Slioved  into  the  Water. 


times  not  to  meddle  with  it,  and  receiving  overbearing  gestures  in 
reply,  I  deliberately  throw  him  backward  into  an  in-igating  ditch. 
A  gleam  of  intelligence  overspreads  the  stolid  countenance  of  the 
Pasha  Khan  at  seeing  his  offspring  floundering  about  on  his  back 
in  the  mud  and  water,  and  he  gives  utterance  to  a  chuckle  of  de- 
light. The  discomfited  young  man  betrays  nothing  of  the  spirit 
of  resentment  upon  recovering  himself  from  the  ditch,  and  the  other 
son  involuntarily  retreats  as  though  afraid  his  turn  was  coming  next 


442  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

The  servant  now  arrives  with  the  Hghted  candle,  and  the  Pasha 
Kahn  leads  the  way  into  his  garden,  where  there  is  a  wide  brick- 
paved  walk  ;  the  house  occupies  one  side  of  the  garden,  the  other 
three  sides  are  inclosed  by  a  high  mud  wall.  After  riding  a  few 
times  along  the  brick-paved  walk,  and  promising  to  do  better  in 
the  morning,  I  naturally  expect  to  be  taken  iuto  the  house,  instead 
of  which  the  Pasha  Khan  orders  the  people  to  show  me  the  way  to 
the  caravanserai.  Arriving  at  the  caravanserai,  and  finding  myself 
thus  thrown  unexpectedly  upon  my  own  resources,  I  inquire  of  some 
bystanders  where  I  can  obtain  ekme/c  ;  some  of  them  want  to  know 
bow  many  liras  I  will  give  for  ekmek  !  When  it  is  reflected  that  a 
lira  is  nearly  five  dollars,  one  realizes  from  this  something  of  the 
unconscionable  possibilities  of  the  Persian  commercial  mind. 

While  this  question  is  being  mooted,  a  figure  appears  in  the 
doorway,  toward  which  the  people  one  and  all  respectfully  salaam 
and  give  way.  It  is  the.great  Pasha  Khan ;  he  has  bethought  him- 
self to  open  my  letter  of  introduction,  and  having  perused  it  and  dis- 
covered who  it  was  from  and  all  about  me,  he  now  comes  and  squats 
down  in  the  most  friendly  manner  by  my  side  for  a  minute,  as 
though  to  remove  any  unfavorable  impressions  his  inhospitable  action 
in  sending  me  here  might  have  made,  and  then  bids  me  accompany 
him  back  to  his  residence.  After  permitting  him  to  eat  a  sufficiency 
of  humble  pie  in  the  shape  of  coaxing,  to  atone  for  his  former  in- 
civility, I  agree  to  his  proposal  and  accompany  him  back.  Tea  is 
at  once  provided,  the  now  very  friendly  Pasha  Khan  putting  extra 
lumps  of  sugar  into  my  glass  with  his  own  hands  and  stirring  it 
up  ;  bread  and  cheese  comes  in  with  the  tea,  and  under  the  mis- 
taken impression  that  this  constitutes  the  Persian  evening  meal  I 
eat  sufficient  to  satisfy  my  hunger.  While  thus  partaking  freely  of 
the  bread  and  cheese,  I  do  not  fail  to  notice  that  the  others  partake 
very  sparingly,  and  that  they  seem  to  be  rather  astonished  because 
I  am  not  following  their  example.  Being  chiefly  interested  in  sat- 
isfying my  appetite,  however,  their  silent  observations  have  no  ef- 
fect save  to  further  mystify  my  understanding  of  the  Persian  char- 
acter. The  secret  of  all  this  soon  reveals  itself  in  the  form  of  an 
ample  repast  of  savory  chicken  pillau,  brought  in  immediately  af- 
terward ;  and  while  the  Pasha  Khan  and  his  two  sons  proceed  to 
do  full  justice  to  this  highly  acceptable  dish,  I  have  to  content  my- 
self with  nibbling  at  a  piece  of  chicken,  and  ruminating  on  the  un- 
happy and  ludicrous  mistake  of  having  satisfied  my  hunger  with 


MOUNT  ARARAT  AND  KOOEDKTAN. 


443 


dry  bread  and  clieese.  Thus  does  one  pay  the  penalty  of  being  un- 
acquainted with  the  domestic  customs  of  a  country  when  first  en- 
tering upon  its  experiences. 

There  seems  to  be  no  material  difference  between  the  social 
position  of  the  women  here  and  in  Turkey ;  they  eat  their  meals 
by  themselves,  and  occupy  entirely  separate  apartments,  which  are 
unapproachable  to  members  of  the  opposite  sex  save  their  hus- 
bands. The  Pasha  Khan  of  Ovahjik,  however,  seems  to  be  a  kind, 
indulgent  husband  and  father,  requesting  me  next  morning  to  ride 
up  and  down  the  brick-paved  walk  for  the  benefit  of  his  wives  and 
daughters.  In  the 

seclusion  of  their  _  _,^^^"-  ^=— ^  ■  f"'CT;r-, 
own  walled  prem-  ^  ^ -i^^^'J 'b i^ - i ^?^  \  'isimi'M 
ises  the  Persian 
females  are  evi- 
dently not  so  par- 
ticular about  con- 
cealing their  feat- 
ures, and  I  ob- 
tained a  glimpse 
of  some  very  pret- 
ty faces;  oval  faces 
with  large  dreamy 
black  eyes,  and  a 
flush  of  warm  sun- 
set on  brownish 
cheeks.  The  in- 
door costume  of 
Persian  women  is 

but  an  inconsiderable  improvement  upon  the  costume  of  our  an- 
cestress in  the  garden  of  Eden,  aud  over  this  they  hastily  don  a 
flimsy  shawl-like  garment  to  come  out  and  see  me  ride.  They  are 
always  much  less  concerned  about  concealing  their  nether  extremi- 
ties than  about  their  faces,  and  as  they  seem  but  little  concerned 
about  anything  on  this  occasion  save  the  bicycle,  after  riding  for 
them  I  have  to  congratulate  myself  that,  so  far  as  sight-seeing  is 
concerned,  the  ladies  leave  me  rather  under  obligations  than  other- 
wise. 

After  supper  the  Pasha  Khan's  falconer  brings  in  several  fine 
falcons  for  my  inspection,  and  in  reply  to  questions  concerning  one 


Riding  for  the   Pasha  Khan's  Ladies, 


444  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

witli  liis  eyelids  tied  up  in  wliat  appears  to  be  a  cruel  manner,  I 
am  told  that  tliis  is  the  customarj'  way  of  breaking  the  spirits  of 
the  young  falcons  and  rendering  them  tractable  and  submissive  ; 
the  eyelids  are  pierced  with  a  hole,  a  silk  thread  is  then  fastened 
to  each  eyelid  and  the  ends  tied  together  over  the  head,  sufficiently 
tight  to  prevent  them  opening  their  eyes.  Falconing  is  considered 
the  chief  out-door  sport  of  the  Persian  nobility,  but  the  average 
Persian  is  altogether  too  indolent  for  out-door  sport,  and  the  keep- 
ing of  falcons  is  fashionable,  because  regarded  as  a  sign  of  rank 
and  uobQity  rather  than  for  sport. 

In  the  morning  the  Pasha  Khan  is  wonderfully  agreeable,  and 
appears  anxious  to  atone  as  far  as  possible  for  the  little  incivihty 
of  yesterday  evening,  and  to  remove  any  unfavorable  impressions  I 
may  perchance  entertain  of  him  on  that  account  before  I  leave. 
His  two  sons  and  a  couple  of  soldiers  accompany  me  on  horseback 
some  distance  up  the  valley.  The  valley  is  studded  with  villages, 
and  at  the  second  one  we  halt  at  the  residence  of  a  gentleman 
named  Abbas  Koola  Khan,  and  partake  of  tea  and  light  refresh- 
ments in  his  garden.  Here  I  learn  that  the  Pasha  Khan  has  car- 
ried his  good  intentions  to  the  extent  of  having  made  arrangements 
to  provide  me  armed  escort  from  point  to  23oint ;  how  far  ahead 
this  well-meaning  arrangement  is  to  extend  I  am  unable  to  under- 
stand ;  neither  do  I  care  to  find  out,  being  already  pretty  well  con- 
vinced that  the  escort  will  prove  an  insufferable  nuisance  to  be 
gotten  rid  of  at  the  first  favorable  opportunity.  Abbas  Koola 
Khan  now  joins  the  company  until  we  arrive  at  the  summit  of  a 
knoll  commanding  an  extensive  view  of  my  road  ahead  so  they  can 
stand  and  watch  me  when  they  all  bid  me  farewell  save  the  soldier 
who  is  to  accompany  me  further  on.  As  we  shake  hands,  the 
young  man  whom  I  pushed  into  the  irrigating  ditch,  points  to  a 
similar  receptacle  near  by  and  shakes  his  head  with  amusing  sol- 
emnity ;  whether  this  is  expressive  of  his  sorrow  that  I  should  have 
pushed  him  in,  or  that  he  should  have  annoyed  me  to  the  extent  of 
having  deserved  it,  I  cannot  say  ;  probably  the  latter. 

My  escort,  though  a  soldier,  is  dressed  but  little  difierent  from 
the  better-class  villagers  ;  he  is  an  almond-eyed  individual,  with 
more  of  the  Tartar  cast  of  countenance  than  the  Persian.  Besides 
the  short  Persian  sword,  he  is  armed  with  a  Martini  Henry  rifle  of 
the  1862  pattern  ;  numbers  of  these  rifles  having  found  their  way 
into  the  hands  of  Turks,  Koords  and  Persians,  since  the  Eusso- 


MOUNT  ARARAT  ANB   KOORDISTAlSr.  445 

Turkish  war.  My  predictions  concerning  liis  turning  out  an  in- 
supportable nuisance  are  not  suffered  to  remain  long  unverified, 
for  he  appears  to  consider  it  his  chief  duty  to  gallop  ahead  and 
notify  the  villagers  of  my  approach,  and  to  work  them  up  to  the 
highest  expectations  concerning  my  marvellous  appearance.  The 
result  of  all  this  is  a  swelling  of  his  own  importance  at  having  so 
wonderful  a  person  under  his  protection,  and  my  own  transforma- 
tion from  an  unostentatious  traveller  to  something  akin  to  a  free 
cu-cus  for  crowds  of  barelegged  ryots.  I  soon  discover  that,  with 
characteristic  Persian  truthfulness,  he  has  likewise  been  spreading 
the  interesting  report  that  I  am  journeying  in  this  extraordinary 
manner  to  carry  a  message  from  the  "IngilLs  Shah  "  to  the  "Shah 
in  Shah  of  Iran  "  (the  Persians  know  their  own  country  as  Iran) 
thereby  increasing  his  own  importance  and  the  wonderment  of  the 
people  concerning  myself.  The  Persian  villages,  so  far,  are  little 
different  from  the  Turkish,  but  such  valuable  property  as  melon- 
gardens,  vineyards,  etc.,  instead  of  being  presided  over  by  a  watch- 
man, are  usually  surrounded  by  substantial  mud  walls  ten  or  twelve 
feet  high.  The  villagers  themselves,  being  less  improvident  and 
altogether  more  thoughtful  of  number  one  than  the  Turks,  are  on 
the  whole,  a  trifle  less  ragged  ;  but  that  is  saying  very  little  indeed, 
and  theii-  condition  is  anything  but  enviable.  During  the  summer 
they  fai'e  comparatively  well,  needing  but  little  clothing,  and  thej' 
are  happy  and  contented  in  the  absence  of  actual  suffering  ;  they 
are  perfectly  satisfied  with  a  diet  of  bread  and  fruit  and  cucumbers, 
rarely  tasting  meat  of  any  kind.  But  fuel  is  as  scarce  as  in  Asia 
Minor,  and  like  the  Turks  and  Armenians,  in  winter  they  have  re- 
source to  a  peculiar  and  economical  arrangement  to  keep  themselves 
warm  ;  placing  a  pan  of  burning  tezek  beneath  a  low  table,  the 
whole  family  huddle  around  it,  covering  the  table  and  themselves 
— save  of  course  their  heads — up  with  quilts  ;  facing  each  other  in 
this  ridiculous  manner,  they  chat  and  while  away  the  dreary  days 
of  vrinter. 

At  the  third  village  after  leaving  the  sons  of  the  Pasha  Khan, 
my  Tartar-eyed  escort,  with  much  garrulous  injunction  to  his  suc- 
cessor, delivers  me  over  to  another  soldier,  himself  returning  back  ; 
this  is  my  favorable  opportunity,  and  soon  after  leaving  the  village 
I  bid  my  valiant  protector  return.  The  man  seems  totally  un- 
able to  comprehend  why  I  should  order  him  to  leave  me,  and 
makes  an  elaborate  display  of  his  pantomimic  abilities  to  impress 


446 


FROM   SAK  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 


upon  me  tlie  information  that  the  country  ahead  is  full  of  very  bad 
Koords,  who  will  kiU  and  rob  me  if  I  venture  among  them  unpro- 
tected by  a  soldier.  The  expressive  action  of  drawing  the  finger 
across  the  throat  appears  to  be  the  favorite  method  of  signifying 
personal  danger  among  all  these  people  ;  but  I  already  understand 
that  the  Persians  live  in  deadly  fear  of  the  nomad  Koords.  Con- 
sequently his  warnings,  although  evidently  sincere,  fall  on  biased 
eai's,  and  I  peremptorily  order  him  to  depart.     The  Tabreez  trail 

is  now  easily  followed 
without  a  guide,  and 
with  a  sense  of  per- 
fect freedom  and  un- 
restraint, that  is  de- 
stroyed by  having  a 
horseman  cantering 
alongside  one,  I  push 
ahead,  finding  the 
roads  variable,  and 
passing  through  sev- 
eral vUlages  during 
the  day. 

The  chief  concern 
of  the  ryots  is  to  de- 
tain me  until  they  can 
bring  the  resident 
Khan  to  see  me  ride, 
evidently  from  a  ser- 
vile desire  to  cater  to 
his  pleasure.  They 
gather  around  me  and 
prevent  my  departure 
until  he  arrives.  An  appeal  to  the  revolver  vnll  invariably  secui-e 
my  release,  but  one  naturally  gets  ashamed  of  threatening  peo- 
ple's lives'  even  under  the  exasperating  circumstances  of  a  forci- 
ble detention.  Once  to-day  I  managed  to  outwit  them  beautifully. 
Pretending  acquiescence  in  their  proposition  of  waiting  till  the  ar- 
rival of  their  Khan,  I  propose  mounting  and  riding  a  few  yards  for 
their  own  edification  while  waiting  ;  in  their  eagerness  to  see  they 
readily  fall  into  the  trap,  and  the  next  minute  sees  me  flying  down 
the  road  with  a  swarm  of  bare-legged  ryots  in  full  chase  after  me, 


An  every-day  Occurrence. 


MOUKT  ARARAT  AND   KOORDISTAN". 


447 


yelling  for  me  to  stop.  Fortunately,  they  Lave  no  horses  handy, 
but  some  of  these  lanky  fellows  can  run  like  deer  almost,  and 
nothing  but  an  excellent  piece  of  road  enables  me  to  outdistance 
niy  pursuers.  Wily  as  the  Persians  are,  compared  to  the  Osman- 
lis,  one  could  play  this  game  on  them  quite  frequently',  owing  to 
their  eagerness  to  see  the  bicycle  ridden  ;  but  it  is  seldom  that  the 
road  is  sufficiently  smooth  to  justify  the  attempt.  I  was  gratified 
to  learn  from  the  Persian  consul  at  Erzeroum  that  my  stock  of 
Turkish  would  answer  me  as  far  as  Teheran,  the  people  west  of  the 

capital  speaking  a  dia- 
^=Ers^'^^^z::.:^-'^r:::^i"~=-       lect  known  as  Tabreez 

Turkish;    still,    I   find 
quite  a  difference.     Al- 


Politeness  in  a  Koordish  Tent. 


and  says  :  "  Boo;  ndmi  ndder  f  "  ("This  ;  what  is  it?")  and  it  is  sev- 
eral days  ere  I  have  an  opportunity  of  finding  out  exactly  what  they 
mean.  They  are  also  exceedingly  prolific  in  using  the  endearing 
term  of  kardash  when  accosting  me.  The  distance  is  now  reckoned 
by  farsakhs  (roughly,  four  miles)  instead  of  hours ;  but,  although 
the  farsakh  is  a  more  tangible  and  comprehensive  measurement  than 
the  Turkish  horn-,  in  reality  it  is  almost  as  unreliable  to  go  by. 

Towards  evening  I  ascend  into  a  more  mountainous  region,  in- 
habited exclusively  by  nomad  Koords  ;  fi-om  points  of  vantage 


448  FEOM    SAN   I'RANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAN. 

their  tents  are  observable  clustered  here  and  there  at  the  bases  of 
the  mountains.  Descending  into  a  grassy  vallej'  or  depression,  I 
find  myself  in  close  proximity  to  several  different  camps,  and 
eagerly  avail  myself  of  tlie  opportunity  to  pass  a  night  among 
them.  I  am  now  in  the  heart  of  Northern  Koordistan,  which  em- 
braces both  Persian  and  Turkish  territory,  and  the  occasion  is 
most  oj)portune  for  seeing  something  of  these  wild  nomads  in 
their  own  mountain  pastures.  The  greensward  is  ridable,  and  I 
dismount  before  the  Sheikh's  tent  in  the  presence  of  a  highly  in- 
terested and  interesting  audience;  The  half-wild  dogs  make 
themselves  equally  interesting  in  another  and  a  less  desirable  sense 
as  I  approach,  but  the  men  pelt  them  with  stones,  and  when  I 
dismount  they  conduct  me  and  the  bicycle  at  once  into  the  tent  of 
their  chieftain.  The  Sheikh's  tent  is  capacious  enough  to  shelter 
a  regiment  almost,  and  it  is  divided  into  compartments  similar  to 
a  previous  description  ;  the  Sheikh  is  a  big,  burly  feUow,  of  about 
forty-five,  wearing  a  turban  the  size  of  a  half-bushel  measure,  and 
dressed  pretty  much  like  a  well-to-do  Turk  ;  as  a  matter  of  fact, 
the  Koords  admire  the  Osmanlis  and  despise  the  Persians.  The 
bicycle  is  reclined  against  a  carpet  partition,  and  after  the  customary 
interchange  of  questions,  a  splendid  fellow,  who  must  be  six  feet 
six  inches  tail,  and  broad-shouldered  in  proportion,  squats  himself 
cross-legged  beside  me,  and  proceeds  to  make  himseK  agreeable, 
rolHng  me  cigarettes,  asking  questions,  and  curiously  investigat-, 
ing  anything  about  me  that  strikes  him  as  peculiar.  I  show  them, 
among  other  things,  a  cabinet  photograph  of  myself  in  all  the  gloiy 
of  needle-pointed  mustache  and  dress-parade  apparel ;  after  a 
critical  examination  and  a  brief  conference  among  themselves  they 
pronounce  me  an  "  English  Pasha."  I  then  hand  the  Sheikh  a  set 
of  sketches,  but  they  are  not  sufficiently  civilized  to  appreciate  the 
sketches ;  they  hold  them  upside  down  and  sidewise  ;  and  not 
being  able  to  make  anything  out  of  them,  the  Sheikh  holds  them, 
iu  his  hand  and  looks  quite  embarrassed,  like  a  person  in  posses- 
sion of  something  he  doesn't  know  what  to  do  with. 

Noticing  that  the  women  are  regarding  these  proceedings  with 
much  interest  from  behind  a  low  partition,  and  not  having  yet  be- 
come reconciled  to  the  Mohammedan  idea  of  women  being 
habitually  ignored  and  overlooked,  I  venture  upon  taking  the  pho- 
tograph to  them  ;  they  seem  much  confused  at  finding  themselves 
the  object  of  direct  attention,    and  they  appear  several  degrees 


MOUNT   ARAKAT   AND    KOORDISTAN.  449 

wilder  than  the  men,  so  far  ns  comprehending  such  a  product  of 
civilization  as  a  photograph  is  an  indication.  It  requires  more 
material  objects  than  sketches  and  photos  to  meet  the  appreciation 
of  these  semi-civilized  children  of  the  desert.  They  bring  me 
their  guns  and  spears  to  look  at  and  pronounce  upon,  and  then 
my  stalwart  entertainer  grows  inquisitive  about  my  revolver. 
First  extracting  the  cartridges  to  prevent  accident,  I  hand  it  to 
him,  and  he  takes  it  for  the  Sheikh's  inspection.  The  Sheikh  ex- 
amines the  handsome  little  Smith  &  Wesson  long  and  wistfully, 
and  then  toys  with  it  several  minutes,  apparently  reluctant  about 
having  to  return  it ;  finally  he  asks  me  to  give  him  a  cartridge  and 
let  him  go  out  and  test  its  accuracy.  I  am  getting  a  trifle  uneasy 
at  his  evident  covetousness  of  the  revolver,  and  in  this  request  I 
see  my  opportunity  of  giving  him  to  understand  that  it  would  be 
a  useless  weapon  for  him  to  possess,  by  telling  him  I  have  but  a 
few  cartridges  and  that  others  are  not  procurable  in  Koordistan 
or  neighboring  countries.  Eecognizing  immediately  its  useless- 
ness  to  him  under  such  circumstances,  he  then  returns  it  without 
remark  ;  whether  he  would  have  confiscated  it  without  this  timely 
explanation,  it  is  difficult  to  say. 

Shortly  after  the  evening  meal,  an  incident  occurs  which  causes 
considerable  amusement.  Everything  being  unusually  quiet,  one 
sharp-eared  youth  happens  to  hear  the  obtrusive  ticking  of  my 
Waterbury,  and  strikes  a  listening  attitude,  at  which  everybody 
else  likewise  begins  listening ;  the  tick,  tick  is  plainly  discernible 
to  everybody  in  the  compartment  and  they  become  highly  inter- 
ested and  amused,  and  commence  looking  at  me  for  an  explanation. 
"With  a  view  to  humoring  the  spirit  of  amusement  thus  awakened, 
I  likewise  smile,  but  affect  ignorance  and  innocence  concerning  the 
origin  of  the  mysterious  ticking,  and  strike  a  listening  attitude  as 
well  as  the  others.  Presuming  iipon  our  interchange  of  familiarity, 
our  six-foot-sixer  then  commences  searching  about  my  clothing  for 
the  watch,  but  being  hidden  away  in  a  pantaloon  fob,  and  minus  a 
chain,  it  proves  beyond  his  power  of  discovery.  Nevertheless,  by 
bending  his  head  down  and  listening,  he  ascertains  and  announces 
it  to  be  somewhere  about  my  person  ;  the  Waterbury  is  then  pro- 
duced, and  the  loudness  of  its  ticking  awakes  the  wonder  and 
admiration  of  the  Koords,  even  to  a  greater  extent  than  the  Turks. 

During  the  evening,  the  inevitable  question  of  Kuss,  Osmanli, 
and  English  crops  up,  and  I  win  unanimous  murmurs  of  approval 
29 


450 


FKOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO   TEHEKAN. 


by  laying  my  forefingers  together  and  stating  that  the  English  and 
the  Osmanlis  are  kardash.  I  show  them  my  Turkish  teskeri,  upon 
which  several  of  them  bestow  fervent  kisses,  and  when,  by  means 
of  placing  several  stones  here  and  there  I  explained  to  them  how 
in  1877,  the  hated  Muscov  occupied  different  Mussulman  cities  one 
after  the  other,  and  was  prevented  by  the  English  from  occupying 
their  dearly  beloved  Stamboul  itself,  their  admiration  knows  no 
bounds.  Along  the  trail,  not  over  a  mile  from  camp,  a  large  Per- 
sian caravan  has  been  halting  during  the  day  ;  late  in  the  evening 


Explaining  England's  Friendly  Offices. 

loud  shouting  and  firing  of  guns  announces  them  as  prepared  to 
start  on  their  night's  journey.  It  is  customary  when  going  through 
this  part  of  Koordistan  for  the  caravan  men  to  fire  guns  and  make 
as  much  noise  as  possible,  in  order  to  impress  the  Koords  with  ex- 
aggerated ideas  concerning  their  strength  and  number  ;  everybody 
in  the  Sheikh's  tent  thoroughly  understands  the  meaning  of  the 
noisy  demonstration,  and  the  men  exchange  significant  smiles.  The 
firing  and  the  shouting  produce  a  truly  magical  effect  upon  a 
blood-thirsty  youngster  of  ten  or  twelve  summers ;  he  becomes 


MOUNT  AKARAT  AND  KOORDISTAN.        451 

wildly  hilarious,  gamboling  about  the  tent,  and  rolling  over  and 
kicking  up  his  heels.  He  then  goes  to  the  Sheikh,  points  to  me, 
and  draws  his  finger  across  his  throat,  intimating  that  he  would 
like  the  privilege  of  cutting  somebody's  throat,  and  why  not  let 
him  cut  mine  ?  The  Sheikh  and  others  laugh  at  this,  but  instead  of 
chiding  him  for  his  tragical  demonstration,  they  favor  him  with 
the  same  admiring  glances  that  grown  people  bestow  upon  preco- 
cious youngsters  the  world  over.  Under  these  circumstances  of  ab- 
ject fear  on  the  one  hand,  and  inbred  propensity  for  violence  and 
plunder  on  the  other,  it  is  really  surprising  to  find  the  Koords  in 
Persian  territory  behaving  themselves  as  well  as  they  do. 

Quilts  are  provided  for  me,  and  I  occupy  this  same  compart- 
ment of  the  tent,  in  common  with  several  of  the  younger  men.  In 
the  morning,  before  departing,  I  am  regaled  with  bread  and  rich, 
new  cream,  and  when  leaving  the  tent  I  pause  a  minute  to  watch  the 
bugy  scene  in  the  female  department.  Some  are  churning  butter 
in  sheep-skin  churns  which  are  suspended  from  poles  and  jerked 
back  and  forth  ;  others  are  weaving  carpets,  preparing  curds  for 
cheese,  baking  bread,  and  otherwise  industriously  employed.  I  de- 
part from  the  Koordish  camp  thoroughly  satisfied  with  my  expe- 
rience of  their  hospitality,  but  the  cerulean  waist-scarf  bestowed 
upon  me  by  our  Hungarian  friend  Igali,  at  Belgrade,  no  longer 
adds  its  embellishments  to  my  personal  adornments.  Whenever  a 
favorable  opportunity  presents,  certain  young  men  belonging  to 
the  noble  army  of  hangers-on  about  the  Sheikh's  apartments  in- 
variably glide  inside,  and  importune  the  guest  from  Frangistan  for 
any  article  of  his  clothing  that  excites  the  admiration  of  then-  semi- 
civilized  minds.  This  scarf,  they  were  doubtless  penetrating- 
enough  to  observe,  formed  no  necessary  part  of  my  wardrobe,  and 
a  dozen  times  in  the  evening,  and  again  in  the  morning,  I  was 
worried  to  part  with  it,  so  I  finally  presented  it  to  one  of  them. 
He  hastily  hid  it  away  among  his  clothes  and  disappeared,  as 
though  fearful,  either  that  the  Sheikh  might  see  it  and  make  him 
return  it,  or  that  one  of  the  chieftain's  favorites  might  take  a  fancy 
to  it  and  summarily  appropriate  it  to  his  own  use. 

Not  more  than  five  miles  eastward  from  the  camp,  whUe  trun- 
dling over  a  stretch  of  stony  ground,  I  am  accosted  by  a  couple  of 
Koordish  shepherds  ;  but  as  the  country  immediately  around  is 
wild  and  unfrequented,  save  by  Koords,  and  knowing  something 
of  their  little  weaknesses  toward  travellers  under  tempting,  one- 


452 


FEOM    SAX   FRAKCISCO   TO   TEHERAN, 


sided  conditions,  I  deem  it  advisable  to  pay  as  little  heed  to  them 
as  possible.  Seeing  that  I  have  no  intention  of  halting,  they  come 
running  up,  and  undertake  to  forcibly  detain  me  by  seizing  hold 
of  the  bicycle,  at  the  same  time  making  no  pretence  of  conceaHng 
.  their  eager  curiosity  concerning  the  probable  contents  of  my  lug- 
gage. Naturally  disapproving  of  this  arbitrary  conduct,  I  push 
them  roughly  away.  With  a  growl  more  hke  the  voice  of  a  wild 
animal  than  of  human  beings,  one  draws  his  sword  and  the  other 
picks  up  a  thick  knobbed  stick  that  he  had  dropped  in  order  to 
the  better  pinch  and  sound  my  packages.     Without  giving  them 


Koordish  Highwaymen. 

time  to  reveal  whether  they  seriously  intend  attacking  me,  or  only 
to  tiy  intimidation,  I  have  them  nicely  covered  with  the  Smith  & 
Wesson.  They  seem  to  comprehend  in  a  moment  that  I  have  them 
at  a  disadvantage,  and  they  hurriedly  retreat  a  short  distance,  exe- 
cuting a  series  of  gyral  antics,  as  though  expecting  me  to  fire  at 
their  legs. 

They  ai-e  accompanied  by  two  dogs,  tawny-coated  monsters, 
larger  than  the  largest  mastiffs,  who  now  proceed  to  make  things 
lively  and  interesting  around  myself  and  the  bicycle.  Keeping 
the  revolver  in  my  hand,  and  threatening  to  shoot  their  dogs  if 


MOUNT   xVliAKAT   AND    KOORDISTAN.  453 

they  don't  call  tliem  away,  I  continue  my  progress  toward  where 
the  stony  ground  terminates  in  favor  of  smooth  camel-paths,  about 
a  hundred  yai-ds  farther  on.  At  this  juncture  I  notice  several 
other  "  gentle  shepherds  "  coming  racing  down  from  the  adjacent 
knolls  ;  but  whether  to  assist  their  comrades  in  catching  and  rob- 
bing me,  or  to  prevent  a  conflict  between  us,  will  always  remain 
an  uncertainty.  I  am  afraid,  however,  that  with  the  advantage  on 
their  side,  the  Eoordish  herdsmen  rarely  trouble  themselves  about 
auy  such  uncongenial  task  as  peace-making.  Eeaching  the  smooth 
ground  before  any  of  the  new-comers  overtake  me,  I  mount  and 
speed  away,  followed  by  wild  yells  from  a  dozen  Koordish  throats, 
and  chased  by  a  dozen  of  their  dogs.  Upon  sober  second  thought, 
when  well  away  from  the  vicinity,  I  conclude  this  to  have  been  a 
rather  ticklish  incident ;  had  they  attacked  me  in  the  absence  of 
anything  else  to  defend  myself  with,  I  should  have  been  comjjelled 
to  shoot  them ;  the  nearest  Persian  village  is  about  ten  miles  distant ; 
the  absence  of  anything  like  continuously  ridable  road  would  have 
made  it  impossible  to  out-distance  their  horsemen,  and  a  Persian 
village  would  have  afforded  small  security  against  a  party  of  en- 
raged Koords,  after  all. 

The  first  village  I  arrive  at  to-day,  I  again  attempt  the  "  ske- 
daddling "  dodge  on  them  that  proved  so  successful  on  one  occa- 
sion yesterday  ;  but  I  am  foiled  by  a  rocky  "jump-off"  in  the  road 
to-day.  The  road  is  not  so  favorable  for  spurting  as  yesterday, 
and  the  racing  ryots  grab  me  amid  much  boisterous  merriment  ere 
I  overcome  the  obstruction  ;  they  take  particular  care  not  to  give 
me  another  chance  until  the  arrival  of  the  Khan.  The  country 
hereabouts  consists  of  gravelly,  imdulating  plateaus  between  the 
mountains,  and  well-worn  camel-paths  afford  some  excellent  wheel- 
ing. Near  mid-day,  while  laboriously  ascending  a  long  but  not 
altogether  uniidable  ascent,  I  meet  a  couple  of  mounted  soldiers  ; 
they  obstruct  my  road,  and  proceed  to  deliver  themselves  of  volu- 
ble Tabreez  Turkish,  by  which  I  understand  that  they  ai-e  the  ad- 
vance guard  of  a  party  in  which  there  is  a  Ferenghi  (the  Persian 
term  for  an  Occidental).  WhUe  talking  wdth  them  I  am  somewhat 
taken  by  surprise  at  seeing  a  lady  on  horseback  and  two  children 
in  a  kajaveh  (mule  panier)  appear  over  the  slope,  accompanied  by 
about  a  dozen  Persians. 

If  I  am  surprised,  the  lady  herself  not  unnaturally  evinces  even 
gi-eater  astonishment  at  the  apparition  of  a  lone  wheelman  here  on 


454  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIEEAN. 

the  caravan  roads  of  Persia  ;  of  course  we  are  mutually  delighted. 
With  the  assistance  of  her  servant,  the  lady  alights  from  the  saddle 

and  introduces  herself  as  Mrs.  E ,  the  wife  of  one  of  the  Persian 

missionaries  ;  her  husband  has  lately  returned  home,  and  she  is  on 
the  vyay  to  join  him.  The  Persians  accompanying  her  comprise  her 
own  servants,  some  soldiers  procured  of  the  Governor  of  Tabreez  by 
the  Euglish  consul  to  escort  her  as  far  as  the  Turkish  frontier,  and 
a  couple  of  unattached  travellers  keeping  with  the  party  for  com- 
pany and  society.  A  mule  driver  has  charge  of  pack-mules  carry- 
ing boxes  containing,  among  other  things,  her  husband's  library. 
During  the  course  of  ten  minutes'  conversation  the  lady  informs  me 
that  she  is  compelled  to  travel  in  this  manner  the  whole  distance  to 
Trebizond,  owing  to  the  practical  impossibility  of  passing  through 
Eussian  territory  with  the  library.  Were  it  not  for  this  a  com- 
paratively short  and  easy  journey  would  take  them  to  Tifhs,  from 
which  point  there  would  be  steam  communication  with  Europe. 
Ere  the  poor  lady  gets  to  TrebizGnd  she  will  be  likely  to  reflect 
that  a  government  so  civilized  as  the  Czar's  might  relax  its  gloomy 
laws  sufficiently  to  allow  the  affixing  of  official  seals  to  a  box  of 
books,  and  permit  its  transportation  through  the  country,  on  con- 
dition— if  they  will — that  it  should  not  be  opened  in  transit ;  surely 
there  would  be  no  danger  of  the  people's  minds  being  enlightened 
— not  even  a  little  bit — by  coming  in  contact  with  a  library  tightly 
boxed  and  sealed.  At  the  frontier  an  escort  of  Turkish  zaptiehs 
will  take  the  place  of  the  Persian  soldiers,  and  at  Erzeroum  the  mis- 
sionaries will,  of  course,  render  her  every  assistance  to  Trebizond  ; 
but  it  is  not  without  feelings  of  anxiety  for  the  health  of  a  lady 
travelling  in  this  rough  manner  unaccompanied  by  her  natural  pro- 
tector, that  I  reflect  on  the  discomforts  she  must  necessarily  put 
up  with  between  here  and  Erzeroum.  She  seems  in  good  spirits, 
however,  and  says  that  meeting  me  here  in  this  extraordinary  man- 
ner is  the  "most  romantic"  incident  in  her  whole  experiences  of 
missionary  life  in  Persia.  Like  many  another,  she  says,  she  can 
scarcely  conceive  it  possible  that  I  am  traveUing  without  attendants 
and  without  being  able  to  speak  the  languages.  One  of  the  un- 
attached travellers  gives  me  a  note  of  introduction  to  Mohammed 
Ali  Khan,  the  Governor  of  Peri,  a  suburban  village  of  Khoi,  which  I 
expect  to  reach  some  time  this  afternoon. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

PERSIA  AND  THE  TABREEZ  CARAVAN  TRAIL. 

A  SHORT  trundle  to  the  summit  of  a  sloping  pass,  and  then  a 
winding  descent  of  several  miles  brings  me  to  a  position  com- 
manding a  view  of  an  extensive  valley  that  looks  from  this  distance 
as  lovely  as  a  dreamy  vision  of  Paradise.  An  hour  later  and  I  am 
bowling  along  beneath  overhanging  peach  and  mulberry  trees,  fol- 
lowing a  volunteer  horseman  to  Mohammed  Ali  Khan's  garden.  Be- 
fore reaching  the  garden  a  gang  of  bare-legged  laborers  engaged  iu 
patching  up  a  mud  wall  favor  me  with  a  fusillade  of  stones,  one  of 
which  caresses  me  on  the  ankle,  and  makes  me  limp  like  a  Green- 
wich pensioner  when  I  dismount  a  minute  or  two  afterward.  This 
is  their  peculiar  way  of  complimenting  a  lone  Perenghi.  Mohammed 
Ali  Khan  is  found  to  be  rather  a  moon-faced  individual  under  thirty, 
who,  together  with  his  subordinate  officials,  are  occupying  tents  iu 
a  large  garden.  Here,  during  the  summer,  they  dispense  justice  to 
applicants  for  the  same  within  their  jurisdiction,  and  transact  such 
other  official  business  as  is  brought  before  them.  In  Persia  the  dis- 
tribution of  justice  consists  chiefly  in  the  officials  ruthlessly  looting 
the  applicants  of  everything  lootable,  and  the  weightiest  task  of  the 
officials  is  intriguing  together  against  the  pocket  of  the  luckless 
wight  who  ventures  upon  seeking  equity  at  their  hands. 

A  sorrowful-visaged  husbandman  is  evidently  experiencing  the 
easy  simplicity  of  Persian  civil  justice  as  I  enter  the  garden  ;  he 
wears  the  mournful  expression  of  a  man  conscious  of  being  irretriev- 
ably doomed,  while  the  festive  Kahn  and  his  equally  festive  moonshi 
bashi  (chief  secretary)  are  laying  their  wicked  heads  together  and 
whispering  mysteriously,  fifty  paces  away  from  everybody,  ever  and 
anon  looking  suspiciously  around  as  though  fearful  of  the  presence 
of  eavesdroppers.  After  duly  binning,  a  young  man  yclept  Abdullah, 
who  seems  to  be  at  the  beck  and  call  of  everybody,  brings  forth  the 
samovar,  and  we  drink  the  customary  tea  of  good  fellowship,  after 
which  they  examine  such  of  my  modest  effects  as  take  their  fancy. 


456  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

The  moonshi  bashi,  as  becomes  a  man  of  education,  is  quite  infat- 
uated with  my  pocket  map  of  Persia  ;  the  fact  that  Persia  occupies 
so  great  a  space  on  the  map  in  comparison  with  the  small  portions 
of  adjoining  countries  visible  around  the  edges  makes  a  powerful 
appeal  to  his  national  vanity,  and  he  regards  me  with  increased  af- 
fection every  time  I  trace  out  for  him  the  comprehensive  boundary 
line  of  his  native  Iran.  After  nightfall  we  repair  to  the  principal 
tent,  and  Mohammed  Ali  Khan  and  his  secretary  consume  the 
evening  hours  in  the  joyous  occupation  of  alternately  smoking  the 
kalian  (Persian  water-pipe,  not  tmlike  the  Turkish  nargUeh,  except 
that  it  has  a  straight  stem  instead  of  a  coiled  tube),  and  swallowing 
glasses  of  raw  arrack  everj'  few  minutes  ;  they  furthermore  amuse 
themselves  by  trying  to  induce  me  to  follow  their  noble  example, 
and  in  poking  fun  at  another  young  man  because  his  conscientious 
scruples  regarding  the  Mohammedan  injunction  against  intoxicants 
forbids  him  indulging  with  them.  About  eight  o'clock  the  Khan 
becomes  a  trifle  sentimental  and  very  patriotic.  Producing  a  pair  of 
silver-mounted  horse-pistols  from  a  corner  of  the  tent,  and  waving 
them  theatrically  about,  he  proclaims  aloud  his  mighty  devotion  to 
the  Shah.  At  nine  o'clock  Abdullah  brings  in  the  supper.  The 
Khan's  vertebra  has  become  too  limp  and  willowy  to  enable  him  to 
sit  upright,  and  he  has  become  too  indifferent  to  such  coarse,  un- 
spiritual  things  as  stewed  chicken  and  musk-melons  to  care  about 
eating  any,  while  the  moonshi  bashi' s  affection  for  me  on  account  of 
the  map  has  become  so  overwhelming  that  he  deliberately  empties 
all  the  chicken  on  to  my  sheet  of  bread,  leaving  none  whatever  for 
himself  and  the  phenomenal  young  person  with  the  conscientious 
scruples. 

When  bedtime  arrives  it  requires  the  united  exertions  of  Abdullah 
and  the  phenomenal  young  man  to  partially  undress  Mohammed 
Ali  Khan  and  drag  him  to  his  couch  on  the  floor,  the  Kahn  being 
limp  as  a  dish-rag  and  a  moderately  bulky  person.  The  moonshi 
bashi,  as  becomes  an  individual  of  lesser  rank  and  superior  mental 
attainments,  is  not  quite  so  helpless  as  his  official  superior,  but  on 
retiring  he  humorously  reposes  his  feet  on  the  pillow  and  his  head 
on  nothing  but  the  bare  floor  of  the  tent,  and  stubbornly  refuses  to 
l^ermit  Abdullah  to  alter  either  his  pillow  or  his  position.  The 
phenomenal  young  man  and  myself  likewise  seek  our  respective 
pile  of  quilts,  Abdullah  removes  the  lump,  draws  a  curtain  over  the 
entrance  of  the  tent,  and  retires. 


PERSIA   AND   THE  TABEEEZ   CARAVAN   TRAIL. 


457 


The  Persians,  as  representing  the  Shiite  division  of  the  Moham- 
medan rehgion,  consider  themselves  by  long  odds  the  holiest  peo- 
ple on  the  earth,  far  holier  than  the  Turks,  virhom  they  religiously 
despise  as  Sunnites  and  unworthy  to  loose  the  latchets  of  their 
shoes.  The  Koran  strictly  enjoins  upon  them  great  moderation  in 
the  use  of  intoxicating  drinks,  yet  certain  of  the  Persian  nobility 
ai-e  given  to  drinking  this  raw  intoxicant  by  the  quart  daily.   When 


iifi  \  \ 


Limp  as  a  Dish-rag." 


asked  why  they  don't  use  it  in  moderation,  they  reply,  "  What  is 
the  good  of  drinking  arrack  unless  one  drinks  enough  to  become 
drunk  and  happy  ?  "  Following  this  briUiant  idea,  many  of  them 
get  "  drunk  and  happy  "  regularly  every  evening.  They  likewise 
frequently  consume  as  much  as  a  pint  before  each  meal  to  create 
a  false  appetite  and  make  themselves  feel  boozy  while  eating. 

In  the  morning  the  moonshi  bashi,  with  a  soldier  for  escort,  ac- 


458  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

companies  me  on  horseback  to  Khoi,  whicli  is  but  about  seven  miles 
distant  over  a  perfectly  level  road.  Sad  to  say,  the  moonshi  bashi,  be- 
sides his  yearning  affection  for  fiery,  untamed  arrack,  is  a  confirmed 
opium  smoker,  and  after  last  night's  debauch  for  supper  and  "  hit- 
ting the  pipe  "  this  morning  for  breakfast,  he  doesn't  feel  very  dashing 
in  the  saddle ;  consequently  I  have  to  accommodate  myself  to  his  pace. 
It  is  the  slowest  seven  miles  ever  ridden  on  the  road  by  a  wheelman, 
I  think ;  a  funeral  procession  is  a  lively,  rattling  affair,  beside  our 
onward  progress  toward  the  mud  battlements  of  Khoi,  but  there 
is  no  help  for  it.  Whenever  I  venture  to  the  fore  a  little  the  dreamy- 
eyed  moonshi  bashi  regards  me  with  a  gaze  of  mild  reproachfulness, 
and  sings  out  in  a  gently-chide-the-erring  tone  of  voice  :  "  Kardash  f 
Kardash  ? '"  vuBsjamg  "If  we  are  brothers,  why  do  you  seem  to 
want  to  leave  me  ?  "  Human  nature  could  scarcely  be  proof  against 
an  appeal  wherein  endearment  and  reproach  are  so  beautifully  and 
harmoniously  blended,  and  it  always  brings  me  back  to  a  level  with 
his  horse. 

Reaching  the  suburbs  of  Khoi,  I  am  initiated  into  a  new  de- 
parture— new  to  myself  at  this  time — of  Persian  sanctimonious- 
ness. Halting  at  a  fountain  to  obtain  a  drink,  the  soldier  shapes 
himself  for  pouring  the  water  out  of  the  earthenware  drinking 
vessel  into  my  hands ;  supposing  this  to  be  merely  an  indication 
of  the  Persian's  own  method  of  drinking,  I  motion  my  preference 
for  drinking  out  of  the  jar  itself.  The  soldier  looks  appeaHngly 
toward  the  moonshi  bashi,  who  tells  him  to  let  me  drink,  and  then 
orders  him  to  smash  the  jar.  It  then  dawns  upon  my  unenlight- 
ened mind,  that  being,  a  Perenghi,  I  should  have  known  better 
than  to  have  touche'ci  my  unhallowed  lips  to  a  drinking  Tessel  at 
a  public  fountain,  defiling  it  by  so  doing,  so  that  it  must  be 
smashed  in  order  that  the  sons  of  the  "true  prophet"  may  not  un- 
wittingly drink  from  it  afterward  and  themselves  become  defiled. 
The  moonshi  bashi  pilots  me  to  the  residence  of  a  certain  wealthy 
citizen  outside  the  city  walls  ;  this  person,  a  mild-mannered,  pur- 
ring-voiced  man,  is  seated  in  a  room  with  a  couple  of  seyuds,  or 
descendants  of  the  prophet ;  they  are  helping  themselves  from  a 
large  platter  of  the  finest  pears,  peaches,  and  egg  plums  I  ever  saw 
anywhere.  The  room  is  carpeted  with  costly  rugs  and  carpets  in 
which  one's  feet  sink  perceptibly  at  every  step  ;  the  walls  and  ceil- 
ing are  artistically  stuccoed,  and  the  doors  and  windows  are  gay 
with  stained  class. 


PERSIA    AND    THE  TABEEEZ   CAKAVAW   TRAIL. 


459 


Abandoning  myself  to  the  guidance  of  the  moonshi  basJii,  I  ride 
around  the  garden -walks,  show  them  the  bicycle,  revolver,  map  of 
Persia,  etc. ;  like  the  vwonshi  bashi,  they  become  deeply  interested 
in  the  map,  finding  much  amusement  and  satisfaction  in  having 
me  point  out  the  location  of  different  Persian  cities,  seemingly  re- 
garding my  ability  to  do  so  as  evidence  of  exceeding  cleverness  and 
erudition.  The  untravelled  Persians  of  the  northern  provinces  re- 
gard Teheran  as  the  grand  idea  of  a  large  and  important  city ;  if 


Doing  the  Agreeable. 

there  is  any  place  in  the  whole  world  larger  and  more  important, 
they  think  it  may  perhaps  be  Stamboul.  The  fact  that  Stamboul 
is  not  on  my  map  while  Teheran  is,  they  regard  as  conclusive  proof 
of  the  superiority  of  their  own  capital.  The  moonshi  bashi's  chief 
purpose  in  accompanying  me  hither  has  been  to  introduce  me  to 
the  attention  of  the  "  hoikim  " ;  although  the  pronunciation  is  a 
little  different  from  hakim,  I  attribute  this  to  local  brogue,  and 
have  been  surmising  this  personage  to  be  some  doctor,  who,  per- 
haps, having  graduated  at  a  Frangistan  medical  college,  the  moonahi 


460  FROM    SAN    FEANCISCO    TO    TEHERAN, 

bashi  thinks  will  be  able  to  converse  with  me.  After  partaking  of 
fruit  and  tea  we  continue  on  our  way  to  the  nearest  gate-way  of  the 
city  proper,  Khoi  being  surrounded  by  a  ditch  and  battlemented 
mud  wall.  Arriving  at  a  large,  public  inclosure,  my  guide  sends  in 
a  letter,  and  shortly  afterward  delivers  me  over  to  some  soldiers, 
who  forthwith  conduct  me  into  the  presence  of — not  a  doctor,  but 
Ali  Khan,  the  Governor  of  the  city,  an  officer  who  hereabouts  re- 
joices in  the  title  of  the  "  hoibim." 

The  Governor  proves  to  be  a  man  of  superior  intelligence  ;  he 
has  been  Persian  ambassador  to  France  some  time  ago,  and  under- 
stands French  fairly  well ;  consequently  we  manage  to  understand 
each  other  after  a  fashion.  Although  he  has  never  before  seen  a 
bicycle,  his  knowledge  of  the  mechanical  ingenuity  of  the  Feren- 
ghis  causes  him  to  regard  it  with  more  intelligence  than  an  un- 
travelled  native,  and  to  better  comprehend  my  journey  and  its  ob- 
ject. Assisted  by  a  dozen  mollahs  (priests)  and  officials  in  flowing 
gowns  and  henna-tinted  beards  and  finger-nails,  the  Governor  is 
transacting  official  business,  and  he  invites  me  to  come  into  the 
council  chamber  and  be  seated.  In  a  few  minutes  the  noon-tide 
meal  is  announced  ;  the  Governor  invites  me  to  dine  with  them, 
and  then  leads  the  way  into  the  dining-room,  followed  by  his  coun- 
sellors, who  form  in  line  behind  him  according  to  their  rank.  The 
dining-room  is  a  large,  airy  apartment,  opening  into  an  extensive 
garden  ;  a  bountiful  repast  is  spread  on  yellow-checkered  table- 
cloths on  the  carpeted  floor ;  the  Governor  squats  cross-legged  at 
one  end,  the  stately-looking  wiseacres  in  flowing  gowns  range  them- 
selves along  each  side  in  a  similar  attitude,  with  much  solemnity 
and  show  of  dignity  ;  they— at  least  so  I  fancy — evidently  are  any- 
thing but  rejoiced  at  the  prospect  of  eating  vdth  an  infidel  Ferenghi. 
The  Governor,  being  a  far  more  enlightened  and  consequently 
less  bigoted  personage,  looks  about  him  a  trifle  embarrassed,  as  if 
searching  for  some  place  where  he  can  seat  me  in  a  position  of  be- 
coming honor  without  offending  the  prejudices  of  his  sanctimonious 
counsellors.  Noticing  this,  I  at  once  come  to  his  relief  by  taking 
the  position  farthest  from  him,  attempting  to  imitate  them  in  their 
cross-legged  attitude.  My  unhappy  attempt  to  sit  in  this  uncom- 
fortable attitude — uncomfortable  at  least  to  anybody  unaccustomed 
to  it — provokes  a  smile  from  His  Excellency,  and  he  straightway  or- 
ders an  attendant  to  fetch  in  a  chair  and  a  small  table  ;  the  coun- 
sellors look  on  in  silence,  but  they  are  evidently  too  deeply  im- 


PERSIA   AND   THE  TABREEZ  CARAVAN  TRAIL.         461 

pressed  with  their  own  dignity  and  holiness  to  commit  themselves 
to  auy  such  display  of  levity  as  a  smile.  A  portion  of  each  dish  is 
placed  upon  my  table,  together  with  a  travellers'  combination  knife, 
fork  and  spoon,  a  relic,  doubtless,  of  the  Governor's  Parisian  ex- 
perience. His  Excellency  having  waited  and  kept  the  counsellors 
waiting  until  these  preparations  are  finished,  motions  for  me  to 
commence  eating,  and  then  begins  himself.  The  repast  consists  of 
boiled  mutton,  rice  pillau  with  curry,  mutton  chops,  hard-boiled 
eggs  with  lettuce,  a  pastry  of  sweetened  rice-flour,  musk-melons, 
water-melons,  several  kinds  of  fruit,  and  for  beverage  glasses  of  iced 
sherbet  ;  of  all  the  company  I  alone  use  knife,  fork,  and  plates. 
Before  each  Persian  is  laid  a  broad  sheet  of  bread  ;  bending  their 
heads  over  this  they  scoop  up  small  haudf  uls  of  pillau,  and  toss  it 
dextrously  into  their  mouths  ;  scattering  particles  missing  the  ex- 
pectantly opened  receptacle  fall  back  on  to  the  bread  ;  this  handy 
sheet  of  bread  is  used  as  a  plate  for  placing  a  chop  or  anything  else 
on,  as  a  table-napkin  for  wiping  finger-tips  between  courses,  and 
now  and  then  a  piece  is  puUed  ofif  and  eaten.  "When  the  meal  is 
finished,  an  attendant  waits  on  each  guest  with  a  brazen  bowl,  an 
ewer  of  water  and  a  towel. 

After  the  meal  is  over  the  Governor  is  no  longer  handicapped 
by  the  religious  prejudices  of  the  moUahs,  and  leaving  them  he  in- 
vites me  into  the  gai-den  to  see  his  two  little  boys  go  through  their 
gymnastic  exercises.  They  are  clever  little  feUows  of  about  seven 
and  nine,  respectively,  with  large  black  eyes  and  clear  olive  com- 
plexions ;  aU  the  time  we  are  watching  them  the  Governor's  face  is 
wreathed  in  a  fond,  parental  smUe.  The  exercises  consist  chiefly  in 
cUmbing  a  thick  rope  dangling  from  a  cross-beam.  After  seeing 
me  ride  the  bicycle  the  Governor  wants  me  to  try  my  hand  at  gym- 
nastics, but  being  nothing  of  a  gymnast  I  respectfully  beg  to  be 
excused.  While  thus  enjoj'ing  a  pleasant  hour  in  the  garden,  a 
series  of  resounding  thwacks  are  heard  somewhere  near  by,  and 
looking  around  some  intervening  shrubs  I  observe  a  couple  of  far- 
rashes  bastinadoing  a  culprit ;  seeing  me  more  interested  in  this 
novel  method  of  administering  justice  than  in  looking  at  the  young- 
sters trying  to  climb  ropes,  the  Governor  leads  the  way  thither. 
The  man,  evidently  a  ryot,  is  lying  on  his  back,  his  feet  ai-e  lashed 
to"-ether  and  held  soles  uppermost  by  means  of  an  horizontal  pole, 
while  the  farrashes  briskly  belabor  them  with  willow  sticks.  The 
soles  of  the  ryot's  feet  ai'e  hard  and  thick  as  rhinoceros  hide  almost 


462  FROM   SAK  FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIERAW. 

from  habitually  walking  barefooted,  and  under  these  conditions  his 
punishment  is  evidently  anything  but  severe.  The  flagellation  goes 
merrily  and  iininterruptedly  forward  until  fifty  sticks  about  five  feet 
long  and  thicker  than  a  person's  thumb  are  broken  over  his  feet 
without  eUciting  any  signals  of  distress  from  the  homy-hoofed  ryot, 
except  an  occasional  sorrowful  groan  of  "  A-l-l-ah  !  "  He  is  then 
loosed  and  limps  painfully  away,  but  it  looks  like  a  rather  hypo- 
critical limp,  after  all ;  fifty  sticks,  by  the  by,  is  a  comparatively 
light  punishment,  several  hundred  sometimes  being  broken  at  a 
single  punishment.  Upon  taking  my  leave  the  Governor  kindly 
details  a  couple  of  soldiers  to  show  me  to  the  best  caravanserai,  and 
to  remain  and  protect  me  from  the  worry  and  annoyance  of  the 
crowds  until  my  departure  from  the  city. 

Arriving  at  the  caravanserai,  my  valiant  protectors  undertake 
to  keep  the  following  crowd  from  entering  the  courtyard ;  the 
crowd  refuses  to  see  the  justice  of  this  arbitrary  proceeding,  and  a 
regular  pitched  battle  ensues  in  the  gateway.  The  caravanserai- 
jees  reinforce  the  soldiers,  and  by  laying  on  vigorously  with  thick 
sticks,  they  finally  put  the  rabble  to  flight.  They  then  close  the 
caravanserai  gates  until  the  excitement  has  subsided.  Khoi  is  a 
city  of  perhaps  fifty  thousand  inhabitants,  and  among  them  all 
there  is  no  one  able  to  speak  a  word  of  English.  Contemplating 
the  surging  mass  of  woolly-hatted  Persians  from  the  bala-khana  (bal- 
cony ;  our  word  is  taken  from  the  Persian),  of  the  caravanserai, 
and  hearing  nothing  but  unintelligible  language,  I  detect  myself 
unconsciously  recalling  the  lines  :  "  Oh  it  was  pitiful ;  in  a  whole 
city  full ."  It  is  the  fitrst  large  city  I  have  visited  without  find- 
ing somebody  capable  of  speaking  at  least  a  few  words  of  my  own 
language.  Locking  the  bicycle  up,  I  repair  to  the  bazaar,  my  watch- 
ful and  zealous  attendants  making  the  dust  fly  from  the  shoulders 
of  such  unlucky  wights  whose  eager  inquisitiveness  to  obtain  a  good 
close  look  brings  them  within  the  reach  of  their  handy  staves.  "VVe 
are  followed  by  immense  crowds,  a  Ferenghi  being  a  rara  avis  in 
Khoi,  and  the  fame  of  the  wonderful  asp-i-awhan  (horse  of  iron) 
has  spread  Uke  wild-fire  through  the  city.  In  the  bazaar  I  obtain 
Russian  silver  money,  which  is  the  chief  currency  of  the  country  as 
far  east  as  Zendjan.  Partly  to  escape  from  the  worrying  crowds, 
and  partly  to  ascertain  the  way  out  next  morning,  as  I  intend 
making  an  early  start,  I  get  the  soldiers  to  take  me  outside  the 
city  wall  and  show  me  the  Tabreez  road. 


PERSIA    AND    THE   'J'ABUEEZ   CAEAVAN   TRAIL. 


463 


A  new  caravanserai  is  in  process  of  construction  just  outside 
the  Tabreez  gate,  and  I  become  an  interested  spectator  of  the 
Persian  mode  of  building  the  walls  of  a  house  ;  these  of  the  new 
caravanserai  are  nearly  four  feet  thick.  Parallel  walls  of  mud 
bricks  are  built  up,  leaving  an  interspace  of  two  feet  or  there- 
abouts ;  this  is  filled  with  stiff,  well-worked  mud,  which  is  dumped 
in  by  bucketsful  and  continually  tramped  by  barefooted  laborers  ; 
harder  bricks  are  used  for  the  doorways  and  windows.  The  b: rick- 
layer  uses  mud  for  mortar  and  his  hands  for  a  trowel ;  he  worto- 
without  either  level  or  plumb-hne,  and  keeps  up  a  doleful,  melan- 


TakinfT  a  Drink. 


choly  chant  from  morniug  to  night.  The  mortar  is  handed  to  him 
by  an  assistant  by  handsful ;  every  workman  is  smeared  and  spat- 
tered with  mud  from  head  to  foot,  as  though  glSrying  in  covering 
themselves  with  the  trade-mark  of  their  calling. 

Strolling  away  from  the  busy  builders  we  encounter  a  man — 
the  "  wather  bhoy  av  the  ghang  " — bringing  a  three-gallon  pitcher 
of  water  from  a  spring  half  a  mile  away.  Being  thirsty,  the  sol- 
diers shout  for  him  to  bring  the  pitcher.  Scarcely  conceiving  it 
possible  that  these  humble  mud-daubers  would  be  so  wretchedly 
sanctimonious,  I  drink  from  the  jar,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the 


464  FUOM  SAN  FEANCISCO   TO  TEIIEUATST.        : 

poor  water-camer,  ■who  forthwith  empties  the  remainder  away  and 
returns  with  hurried  trot  to  the  spring  for  a  fresh  supply ;  he  would 
doubtless  have  smashed  the  vessel  had  it  been  smaller  and  of  lesser 
value.  Naturally  I  feel  a  trifle  conscience-stricken  at  having  caused 
■him  so  much  trouble,  for  he  is  rather  an  elderly  man,  but  the  sol- 
diers display  no  sympathy  for  him  whatever,  apparently  regarding 
am  humble  water-carrier  as  a  person  of  small  consequence  anyhow, 
and^  they  laugh  heartily  at  seeing  him  trotting  brisMy  back  half  a 
mitt  for  another  load.  Had  he  taken  the  first  water  after  a  Fe- 
renghi  had  drank  from  it  and  allowed  his  fellow-workmen  to  unwit- 
tingly partake  of  the  same,  it  would  probably  have  fared  badly  with 
the  old  fellow  had  they  found  it  out  afterward. 

Eeturning  cityward  we  meet  our  friend,  the  moonshi  bashi, 
looking  me  up  ;  he  is  accompanied  by  a  dozen  better-class  Per- 
sians, scattering  friends  and  acquaintances  of  his,  whom  he  has  col- 
lected during  the  day  chiefly  to  show  them  my  map  of  Persia  ;  the 
mechanical  beauty  of  the  bicycle  and  the  apparent  victory  over  the 
laws  of  equilibrium  in  riding  it  being,  in  the  opinion  of  the  scholar- 
ly moonshi  bashi,  quite  overshadowed  by  a  map  which  shows  Te- 
heran and  Khoi,  and  doesn't  show  Stamboul,  and  which  shows 
the  whole  broad  expanse  of  Persia,  and  only  small  portions  of  other 
countries.  This  latter  fact  seems  to  have  made  a  very  deep  im- 
pression upon  the  moonshi  bashi's  mind  ;  it  appears  to  have  filled 
him  with  the  unalterable  conviction  that  all  other  countries  are  in- 
significant compared  with  Persia  ;  in  his  own  mind  this  patriotic 
person  has  always  believed  this  to  be  the  case,  but  he  is  overjoyed 
at  finding  his  belief  verified — as  he  fondly  imagines — by  the  map 
of  a  Ferenghi.  Eeturning  to  the  caravanserai,  we  find  the  court- 
yard crowded  ■with  people,  attracted  by  the  fame  of  the  bicycle.  The 
moonshi  bashi  straightway  ascends  to  the  bala-hhana,  tenderly  un- 
folds my  map,  and  displays  it  for  the  inspection  of  the  gaping  mul- 
titude below  ;  while  five  hundred  pairs  of  eyes  gaze  wonderingly 
upon  it,  without  ta^ring  the  slightest  conception  of  what  they  are 
looking  at,  he  proudly  traces  with  his  finger  the  outHues  of  Per- 
sia. It  is  one  of  the  most  amusing  scenes  imaginable  ;  the  moon- 
shi bashi  and  myself,  surrounded  by  his  little  company  of  friends, 
occupying  the  bala-khana,  proudly  displaying  to  a  mixed  crowd  of 
fully  five  hundred  people  a  shilling  map  as  a  thing  to  be  wondered 
at  and  admired. 

After  the  departure  of  the  moonshi  bashi  and  his  friends,  by  in- 


PERSIA   AND   THE  TABREEZ   CARAVAN  TRAIL. 


465 


vitation  I  pay  a  visit  of  curiosity  to  a  company  of  dervishes  (they 
themselves  pronounce  it "  darwish  ")  occupying  one  of  the  cai-avan- 
serai  rooms.  There  are  eight  of  them  lolling  about  in  one  small 
room  ;  their  appearance  is  disgusting  and  yet  interesting  ;  they  are 
all  but  naked  in  deference  to  the  hot  vreather  and  to  obtain  a  little 
rehef  from  the  lively  tenants  of  their  clothing.  Prominent  among 
their  effects  are  panther  or  leopard  skins  which  they  use  as  cloaks, 
small  steel  battle-axes,  and  huge  spiked  clubs.  Their  whole  ap- 
pearance is  most  striking  and  extraordinary  ;  their  long  black  hair 
is  dangling  about  their  naked  shoulders  ;  they  have  the  wild,  hag- 
gard countenances  of  men  whose  lives  are  being  spent  in  debauch- 


The  Patriotic  Moonsht-Bash 


ery  and  excesses ;  nevertheless,  most  of  them  have  a  decidedly 
intellectual  expression.  The  Persian  dervishes  are  a  strange  and 
interesting  people ;  they  spend  their  whole  lives  in  wandering  from 
one  end  of  the  country  to  another,  subsisting  entirely  by  mendi- 
cancy ;  yet  their  cry,  instead  of  a  beggar's  supplication  for  charity, 
is  "  huk,  huk  "  (my  right,  my  right) ;  they  affect  the  most  wildly 
picturesque  and  eccentric  costumes,  often  wearing  nothing  what- 
ever but  white  cotton  drawers  and  a  leopard  or  panther  skin  thrown 
carelessly  about  their  shoulders,  besides  which  they  carry  a  huge 
spiked  club  or  steel  battle-axe  and  an  alms -receiver  ;  this  latter  is 
usually  made  of  an  oval  gourd,  polished  and  suspended  on  small  ■ 
brass  chains.  Sometimes  they  wear  an  embroidered  conical  cap 
30 


466  FROM   SAN   FEANOISCO   TO   TEHEKAN. 

decorated  with  verses  from  the  Koran,  but  ofteu  they  wear  no 
head-gear  save  the  covering  provided  by  nature.  The  better-class 
Persians  have  little  respect  for  these  vpandering  fakirs ;  but  their 
vsdld,  eccentric  appearance  makes  a  deep  impression  upon  the  sim- 
ple-hearted villagers,  and  the  dervishes,  whose  wits  are  sharpened 
by  constant  knocking  about,  live  mostly  by  imposing  on  their  good 
nature  and  credulity.  A  couple  of  these  worthies,  arriving  at  a 
small  village,  affect  their  wildest  and  most  grotesque  appearance 
and  proceed  to  walk  with  stately,  majestic  tread  through  the  streets, 
gracefully  brandishing  their  clubs  or  battle-axes,  gazing  fixedly  at 
vacancy  and  reciting  aloud  from  the  Koran  with  a  peculiar  and 
impressive  intonation ;  they  then  walk  about  the  village  holding 
out  their  alms-receiver  and  shouting  "huk  yah  huk!  huk  yah  huh!  " 
Half  afraid  of  incurring  their  displeasure,  few  of  the  villagers  refuse 
to  contribute  a  copper  or  portable  cooked  provisions. 

Most  dervishes  are  addicted  to  the  intemperate  use  of  opium, 
bhang  (a  preparation  of  Indian  hemp),  arrack,  and  other  baleful  in- 
toxicants, generally  indulging  to  excess  whenever  they  have  col- 
lected sufficient  money  ;  they  are  likewise  credited  vyith  aU  manner 
of  debauchery  ;  it  is  this  that  accounts  for  their  pale,  haggard  ap- 
pearance. The  following  quotation  from  "In  the  Land  of  the  Lion 
and  Sun,"  and  which  is  translated  from  the  Persian,  is  eloquently 
descriptive  of  the  general  appearance  of  the  dervish : 

The  dervish  had  the  dullard  air. 
The  maddened  look,  the  vacant  stare. 
That  bhang  and  contemplation  give. 
He  moved,  but  did  not  seem  to  live  ; 
His  gaze  was  savage,  and  yet  sad  ; 
What  we  should  call  stark,  staring  mad. 
All  down  his  back,  his  tangled  hair 
Flowed  wild,  unkempt ;  his  head  was  bare  ; 
A  leopard's  skin  was  o'er  him  flung  ; 
Around  his  neck  huge  beads  were  hung, 
And  in  his  hand — ah!  there's  t)ie  rub — 
He  carried  a  portentous  club. 

After  visiting  the  dervishes  I  spend  an  hour  in  an  adjacent 
tchai-khan  drinking  tea  with  my  escort  and  treating  them  to  sun- 
dry well-deserved  kalians.  Among  the  rabble  collected  about  the 
doorway  is  a  haK-witted  youngster  of  about  ten  or  twelve  summers 
with  a  suit  of  clothes  consisting  of  a  waist  string  and  a  piece  of  rag 


PEliSIA  AND  THE  TABREEZ  CAEAVAN   TRAIL. 


467 


about  tlie  size  of  an  ordinary  pen-wiper.  He  is  tlie  unfortunate-. 
possessor  of  a  stomach  disproportionately  large  and  which  intrudes 
itself  upon  other  people's  notice  hke  a  prize  pumpkin  at  an  agri- 
cultural  fair. 
This  youth's 
chief  occupation 
appears  to  be 
feeding  melon- 
riuds  to  a  pet 
sheep  belonging 
to  the  tchai-khan 
and  playing  a  res- 
onant tattoo  on 
his  abnormally 
obtrusivepaunch 
with  the  palms 
of  his  hands. 
This  produces  a 
hollow,  echoing 
sound  like  strik- 
ing an  inflated 
bladder  with  a 
stuffed  club;  and 
consideriug  that 
the  youth  also 
introduces  a  nov- 
el and  pecuhar 
squint  into  the 
performance,  it 
is  a  remarkably 
edifying  specta- 
cle. Supper-time 
coming  round, 
the  soldiers  show 
the  way  to  an  eat- 
ing place,  where 
we  sup  off  dehcious  bazaar-kabobs,  one  of  the  most  tasteful  prep- 
arations of  mutton  one  could  well  imagine.  The  mutton  is 
minced  to  the  consistency  of  paste  and  properly  seasoned ;  it  is 
then  spread  over  flat  iron  skewers  and  grilled  over  a  glowing  char- 


A  Yankee  Artist's  Idea  of  Dervishes. 


468  FROM  SAN   FEANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

coal  fire ;  wlien  nicely  browned  they  are  laid  on  a  broad  pliable 
sheet  of  bread  in  lieu  of  a  plate,  and  the  skewers  withdrawn,  leav- 
ing before  the  customer  a  dozen  long  flat  fingers  of  nicely  browned 
kabobs  reposing  side  by  side  on  the  cake  of  wheaten  bread — a 
most  appetizing  and  digestible  dish. 

Returning  to  the  caravanserai,  I  dismiss  my  faithful  soldiers 
with  a  suitable  present,  for  which  they  loudly  implore  the  blessings 
of  AUah  on  my  head,  and  for  the  third  or  fourth  time  impress  upon 
the  caravanserai-Jee  the  necessity  of  making  my  comfort  for  the 
night  his  special  consideration.  They  fiU  that  humble  individual's 
mind  with  grandiloquent  ideas  of  iny  personal  importance  by 
dwelling  impressively  on  the  circumstance  of  my  having  eaten  with 
the  Governor,  a  fact  they  likewise  have  lost  no  opportunity  of 
heralding  throughout  the  bazaar  during  the  afternoon.  The  cara- 
vanserai-^/ee  spreads  quilts  and  a  piUow  for  me  on  the  open  bala- 
khana,  and  I  at  once  prepare  for  sleep.  A  gentle-eyed  and  youth- 
ful seyud  wearing  an  enormous  white  turban  and  a  flowing  gown 
glides  up  to  my  couch  and  begins  plying  me  with  questions.  The 
soldiers  noticing  this  as  they  are  about  leaving  the  court-yard 
favor  him  with  a  torrent  of  impreo&,tions  for  venturing  to  disturb 
my  repose ;  a  score  of  others  yell  fiercely  at  him  in  emulation  of 
the  soldiers,  causing  the  dreamy-eyed  youth  to  hastily  scuttle  away 
again.  Nothing  is  now  to  be  heard  all  around  but  the  evening 
prayers  of  the  caravanserai  guests  ;  listenirig  to  the  multitudinous 
cries  of  Allah-il-Allah  around  me,  I  faU  asleep.  About  midnight  I 
happen  to  wake  again  ;  everything  is  quiet,  the  stars  are  shining 
brightly  down  into  the  court-yard,  and  a  small  grease  lamp  is 
flickering  on  the  floor  near  my  head,  placed  there  by  the  caravan- 
serai-^ee  after  I  had  fallen  asleep.  The  past  day  has  been  one  full 
of  interesting  experiences  ;  from  the  time  of  leaving  the  garden  of 
Mohammed  Ali  Khan  this  morning  in  company  with  the  moonshi 
bashi,  until  luUed  to  sleep  three  hours  ago  by  the  deep-voiced 
prayers  of  fanatical  Mohammedans  the  day  has  proved  a  series  of 
surprises,  and  I  seem  more  than  ever  before  to  have  been  the  sport 
and  plaything  of  fortune  ;  however,  if  the  fickle  goddess  never 
used  anybody  worse  than  she  has  used  me  to-day  there  would  be 
little  cause  for  complaining. 

As  though  to  belie  their  general  reputation  of  sanctimonious- 
ness, a  tall,  stately  seyud  voluntarily  poses  as  nay  guide  and  pro- 
tector en  route  through  the  awakening  bazaar  toward  the  Tabreez 


PERSIA   AND   THE  TABREEZ  CARAVAN   TRAIL.         469 

ga,te  next  morning,  cuffing  obtrusive  youngsters  right  and  left,  and 
chiding  grown-up  people  whenever  their  inordinate  curiosity  ap- 
peals to  him  as  being  aggressive  and  impolite  ;  one  can  only 
account  for  this  strange  condescension  on  the  part  of  this  holy 
man  by  attributing  it  to  the  marvellous  civilizing  and  levelling  in- 
fluence of  the  bicycle.  Arriving  outside  the  gate,  the  crowd  of 
followers  are  well  repaid  for  their  trouble  by  watching  my  progress 
for  a  couple  of  miles  down  a  broad  straight  roadway  admirably 
kept  and  shaded  with  thrifty  chenars  or  plane-trees.  Wheeling 
down  this  pleasant  avenue  I  encounter  mule-trains,  the  animals 
festooned  with  strings  of  merrily  jingling  bells,  and  camels  gayly 
caparisoned,  with  huge,  nodding  tassels  on  their  heads  and  pack- 
saddles,  and  deep-toned  bells  of  sheet  iron  swinging  at  their 
throats  and  sides ;  likewise  the  omnipresent  donkey  heavily 
laden  with  all  manner  of  village  produce  for  the  Khoi  market. 

My  road  after  leaving  the  avenue  winds  around  the  end  of  pro- 
jecting hnis,  and  for  a  dozen  miles  traverses  a  gravelly  plain  that 
ascends  with  a  scarcely  perceptible  gradient  to  the  summit  of  a 
ridge  ;  it  then  descends  by  a  precipitous  trail  into  the  vaUey  of 
Lake  Ooroomiah.  Following  along  the  northern  shore  of  the  lake 
I  find  fairly  level  roads,  but  nothing  approaching  continuous 
wheeling,  owing  to  wash-outs  and  small  streams  leading  from  a 
range  of  mountains  near  by  to  the  left,  between  which  and  the 
briny  waters  of  the  lake  my  route  leads.  Lake  Ooroomiah  is 
somewhere  near  the  size  of  Salt  Lake,  Utah,  and  its  waters  are  so 
heavily  impregnated  with  saline  matter  that  one  can  lie  down  on 
the  surface  and  indulge  in  a  quiet,  comfortable  snooze  ;  at  least, 
this  is  what  I  am  told  by  a  missionary  at  Tabreez  who  says  he  has 
tried  it  himself  ;  and  even  allowing  for  the  fact  that  missionaries 
are  but  human  after  all  and  this  gentleman  hails  originally  from 
somewhere  out  West,  there  is  no  reason  for  supposing  the  state- 
ment at  all  exaggerated.  Had  I  heard  of  this  beforehand  I  should 
certainly  have  gone  far  enough  out  of  my  course  to  try  the  experi- 
ment of  being  literally  rocked  on  the  cradle  of  the  deep. 

Near  midday  I  make  a  short  circuit  to  the  north,  to  investigate 
the  edible  possibilities  of  a  village  nestling  in  a  cul-de-sac  of  the 
mountain  foot-hills.  The  resident  Khan  turns  out  to  be  a  regular 
jovial  blade,  sadly  partial  to  the  flowing  bowl.  When  I  arrive  he 
is  perseveringly  working  himself  up  to  the  proper  pitch  of  boozi- 
ness  for  enjoying  his  noontide  repast  by  means  of  copious  potations 


470 


FKOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


of  arrack  ;  lie  introduces  bimoelf  as  Hassan  Khan,  offers  me  arrack, 
and  cordially  invites  me  to  dine  with  him.  After  dinner,  when 
examining  my  revolver,  maj),  etc.,  the  Khan  greatly  admires  a  pho- 
tograph of  myself  as  a  peculiar  firoof  of  Perenghi  skill  in  produc- 
ing a  person's  physiognomy,  and  blandly  asks  me  to  "make  him 
"  one  of  himself,"  doubtless  thinking  that  a  j)erson  capable  of  riding 
on  a  wheel  is  likewise  possessed  of  miraculous  all  'round  abilities. 

The  Khan  consumes  not 
less  than  a  pint  of  raw  ar- 
rack during  the  dinner 
hour,  and,  not  unnaturally, 
finds  himself  at  the  end  a 
trifle  funny  and  venture- 
some. When  preparing  to 
take  my  departui-e  he  pro- 
poses that  I  give  him  a 
ride  on  the  bicycle  ;  noth- 
ing loath  to  humor  him  a 
little  in  return  for 
his  hospitality,  I  as- 
sist him  to  mount, 
and  wheel  him 
around  for  a  few 
minutes,  to  the  un- 
concealed delight  of 
the  whole  popula- 
tion, who  gather 
about  to  see  the  as- 
tonishing spectacle 
of  their  Khan  riding 
on  the  Ferenghi's 
wonderful  asp-i-awhan.  The  Khan  being  short  and  pudgy  is  un- 
able to  reach  the  pedals,  and  the  confidence-inspiring  fumes  of 
aiTack  lead  him  to  announce  to  the  assembled  villagera  that  if  his 
legs  were  only  a  little  longer  he  could  certainly  go  it  alone,  a  state- 
ment that  evidently  fills  the  simple-minded  ryots  vsdth  admiration 
for  the  Khan's  alleged  newly-discovered  abilities. 

The  road  continues  level  but  somewhat  loose  and  sandy  ;  the 
scenery  around  becomes  strikingly  beautiful,  calling  up  thoughts 
of  "  Arabian  Nights  "  entertainments,  and  the  genii  and  troubadours 


Hassan  Khan  takes  a  Lesson. 


PERSIA  AND   THE  TABBBEZ   CAKAYAN  TRAIL.         471 

of  Persian  song.  The  bright,  blue  waters  of  Late  Ooroomiah  stretch 
away  southward  to  where  the  dim  outlines  of  mountains,  a  hundred 
miles  away,  mark  the  southern  shore  ;  rocky  islets  at  a  lesser  dis- 
tance, and  consequently  more  pronounced  in  character  and  con- 
tour, rear  their  jagged  and  picturesque  forms  sheer  from  the  azure 
surface  of  the  liquid  mirror,  the  face  of  which  is  unruffled  by  a  sin- 
gle ripple  and  unspecked  by  a  single  animate  or  inanimate  object ; 
the  beach  is  thickly  incrusted  with  salt,  white  and  glistening  in 
the  sunshine  ;  the  shore  land  is  mingled  sand  and  clay  of  a  deep- 
red  color,  thus  presenting  the  striking  and  beautiful  phenomena  of 
a  lake  shore  painted  red,  white,  and  blue  by  the  inimitable  hand  of 
nature.  A  range  of  rugged  gray  mountains  run  parallel  with  the 
shore  but  a  few  miles  away  ;  crystal  streams  come  bubbling  lake- 
ward  over  pebble-bedded  channels  from  sources  high  up  the  moun- 
tain slopes  ;  villages,  hidden  amid  groves  of  spreading  jujubes  and 
graceful  chenars,  nestle  here  and  there  in  the  rocky  gateways  of 
ravines  ;  orchards  and  vineyards  are  scattered  about  the  plain. 
They  are  imprisoned  within  gloomy  mud  walls,  but,  Uke  living 
creatures  struggling  for  their  liberty,  the  fruit-laden  branches 
extend  beyond  their  prison-walls,  and  the  graceful  tendrils  of  the 
vines  find  their  way  through  the  sun-cracks  and  fissures  of  decay, 
and  trail  over  the  top  as  though  trying  to  cover  with  nature's  charit- 
able veil  the  unsightly  works  of  man  ;  and  all  is  arched  over  with 
the  cloudless  Persian  sky. 

Eoaming  the  roads  of  this  picturesque  region  in  search  of  vic- 
tims is  a  most  persistent  and  pugnacious  species  of  fly  ;  rollicking 
as  the  blue-bottle,  and  the  veritable  double  of  the  green-head  horse- 
fly of  the  Western  prairies,  he  combines  the  dash  and  impetuosity 
of  the  one  with  the  ferocity  and  persistency  of  the  other ;  but  he 
is  happily  possessed  of  one  redeeming  feature  not  possessed  by 
either  of  the  above-mentioned  and  well-known  insects  of  the  West- 
ern world.  When  either  of  these  settles  himself  affectionately  on 
the  end  of  a  person's  nose,  and  the  person,  smarting  under  the  in- 
dignity, hits  himself  viciously  on  that  helpless  and  unoffending  por- 
tion of  his  person,  as  a  general  thing  it  doesn't  hurt  the  fly,  simply 
because  the  fly  doesn't  wait  long  enough  to  be  hurt ;  but  the  Lake 
Ooroomiah  fly  is  a  comparatively  guileless  insect,  and  quietly  re- 
mains where  he  alights  until  it  suits  one's  convenience  to  forcibly 
remove  him  ;  for  this  redeeming  quality  I  bespeak  for  him  the 
warmest  encomiums  of  fly-harassed  humans  everywhere. 


472  FKOM    SAN    FRANCISCO   TO   TEHEEAW. 

Dusk  is  settling  down  over  the  broad  expanse  of  lake,  plain,  and 
mountain  when  I  encounter  a  number  of  villagers  taking  donkey- 
loads  of  fruit  and  almonds  from  an  orchard  to  their  village.  They 
cordially  invite  me  to  accompany  them  and  accept  their  hospitality 
for  the  night.  They  are  travelling  toward  a  large  area  of  walled  or- 
chards but  a  short  distance  to  the  north,  and  I  naturally  expect  to 
tind  their  village  located  among  them  ;  so,  not  knowing  how  far 
ahead  the  next  village  may  be,  I  gladly  accept  their  kindly  invita- 
tion, and  follow  along  behind.  It  gets  dusky,  then  duskier,  then 
dark  ;  the  stars  come  peeping  out  thicker  and  thicker,  and  stiU  I 
am  trundling  with  these  people  slowly  along  up  the  dry  and  stone- 
strewn  channel  of  spring-time  freshets,  expecting  every  minute  to 
reach  their  village,  only  to  be  as  often  disappointed,  for  over  an 
hour,  during  which  we  travel  out  of  my  proper  course  perhaps 
four  miles.  Finally,  after  crossing  several  little  streams,  or  rather, 
one  stream  several  times,  we  arrive  at  our  destination,  and  I  am  in- 
stalled, as  the  guest  of  a  leading  villager,  beneath  a  sort  of  open 
porch  attached  to  the  house.  Here,  as  usual,  I  quickly  become  the 
centre  of  attraction  for  a  wondering  and  admiring  audience  of  half- 
naked  villagers.  The  villager  whose  guest  I  become  brings  forth 
bread  and  cheese,  some  bring  me  grapes,  others  newly  gathered 
almonds,  and  then  they  squat  around  in  the  dim  religious  light  of 
primitive  grease-lamps  and  watch  me  feed,  with  the  same  wonder- 
ing interest  and  the  same  unconcealed  delight  with  which  youthful 
Londoners  at  the  Zoological  Gardens  regard  a  pet  monkey  devour- 
ing their  offerings  of  nuts  and  ginger-snaps. 

I  scarcely  know  what  to  make  of  these  particular  villagers  ;  they 
seem  strangely  childHke  and  unsophisticated,  and  moreover,  per- 
fectly delighted  at  my  unexpected  presence  in  their  midst.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  their  unimportant  little  village  among  the  foot- 
hills was  ever  before  visited  by  a  Ferenghi ;  consequently  I  am  to 
them  a  vara  avis  to  be  petted  and  admired.  I  am  inclined  to  think 
them  a  village  of  Yezeeds  or  devil-worshippers  ;  the  Yezeeds  be- 
lieve that  Allah,  being  by  nature  kind  and  merciful,  would  not  injure 
anybody  under  any  circumstances,  consequently  there  is  nothing  to 
be  gained  by  worshipping  him.  Sheitan  (Satan),  on  the  contrary,  has 
both  the  power  and  the  inclination  to  do  people  harm,  therefore 
they  think  it  politic  to  cultivate  his  good-will  and  to  pursue  a 
policy  of  conciliation  toward  him  by  worshipping  him  and  revering 
his  name.     Thus  they  treat  the  name  of  Satan  with  even  greater 


PERSIA   AND   THE   TABREEZ   CARAVAN  TRAIL.         473 

reverence  than  Christians  and  Mohammedans  treat  the  name  of 
God.  Independent  of  their  hospitable  treatment  of  myself,  these 
villagers  seem  but  little  advanced  in  their  personal  habits  above 
mere  animals ;  the  women  are  half -naked,  and  seem  possessed  of 
little  more  sense  of  shame  than  our  original  ancestors  before  the 
fall.  There  is  great  talk  of  kardash  among  them  in  reference  to 
myself.  They  are  advocating  hospitality  of  a  nature  altogether  too 
profound  for  the  consideration  of  a  modest  and  discriminating 
Ferenghi — hospitable  intentions  that  I  deem  it  advisable  to  dissi- 
pate at  once  by  affecting  deep,  dense  ignorance  of  what  they  are 
discussing. 

In  the  morning-  they  search  the  village  over  to  find  the  where- 
withal to  prepare  me  some  tea  before  my  departure.  Eight  miles 
from  the  village  I  discover  that  four  miles  forward  yesterday  even- 
ing, instead  of  backward,  would  have  brought  me  to  a  village  con- 
taining a  caravanserai.  I  naturally  feel  a  trifle  chagrined  at  the 
mistake  of  having  journeyed  eight  unnecessary  miles,  but  am,  per- 
haps, amply  repaid  by  learning  something  of  the  utter  simplicity 
of  the  villagers  before  their  character  becomes  influenced  by  inter- 
course with  more  enlightened  people. 

My  course  now  leads  over  a  stony  plain.  The  wheeling  is  rea- 
sonably good,  and  I  gradually  draw  away  from  the  shore  of  Lake 
Ooroomiah.  Melon-gardens  and  vineyards  are  frequently  found 
here  and  there  across  the  plain  ;  the  only  entrance  to  the  garden 
is  a  hole  about  three  feet  by  four  in  the  high  mud  wall,  and  this  is 
closed  by  a  wooden  door  ;  an  arm-hole  is  generally  found  in  the 
wall  to  enable  the  owner  to  reach  the  fastening  from  the  outside. 
Investigatiug  one  of  these  fastenings  at  a  certain  vineyard  I  dis- 
cover a  lock  so  primitive  that  it  must  have  been  invented  by  pre- 
historic man.  A  flat,  wooden  bar  or  bolt  is  drawn  into  a  mortise- 
Kke  receptacle  of  the  wall,  open  at  the  top  ;  the  man  then  daubs  a 
handful  of  wet  clay  over  it ;  in  a  few  minutes  the  clay  hardens  and 
the  door  is  fast.  This  is  not  a  burglar-proof  lock,  certainly,  and  is 
only  depended  upon  for  a  fastening  during  the  temporary  absence 
of  the  owner  in  the  day-time.  During  the  summer  the  owner  and 
family  not  infrequently  live  in  the  garden  altogether. 

During  the  forenoon  the  bicycle  is  the  innocent  cause  of  two 
people  being  thrown  from  the  backs  of  their  respective  steeds. 
One  is  a  man  carelessly  sitting  sidewise  on  his  donkey  ;  the  meek- 
eyed  jackass  suddenly  makes  a  pivot  of  his  hind  feet  and  wheels 


474  FEOM   SAW  FRAlSrCISCO  TO   TEHERAN. 

round,  and  the  rider's  legs  as  suddenly  shoot  upward.  He  franti- 
cally grips  his  fiery,  untamed  steed  around  the  neck  as  he  finds 
himself  over-balanced,  and  comes  up  with  a  broad  grin  and  an 
irrepressible  chuckle  of  merriment  over  the  unwonted  spirit  dis- 
played by  his  meek  and  humble  charger,  that  probably  had  never 
scared  at  anything  before  in  all  its  life.  The  other  case  is  unfort- 
unately a  lady  whose  horse  Uterally  springs  from  beneath  her, 
treating  her  to  a  clean  tumble.  The  poor  lady  sings  out  "Allah ! " 
rather  snappishly  at  finding  herself  on  the  ground,  so  snappishly 
that  it  leaves  little  room  for  doubt  of  its  being  an  imprecation  ; 
but  her  rude,  unsympathetic  attendants  laugh  right  meriily  at  see- 
ing her  floundering  about  in  the  sand ;  fortunately,  she  is  unin- 
jured. Although  Turkish  and  Persian  ladies  ride  d  la  Amazon,  a 
position  that  is  popularly  supposed  to  be  several  times  more  secure 
than  side-saddles,  it  is  a  noticeable  fact  that  they  seem  perfectly 
helpless,  and  come  to  grief  the  moment  their  steed  shies  at  any- 
thing or  commences  capering  about  with  anything  like  violence. 

On  a  portion  of  road  that  is  unridable  from  sand  I  am  capt- 
iu:ed  by  a  rowdyish  company  of  donkey-drivers,  returning  vsdth 
empty  fruit-baskets  from  Tabreez.  They  will  not  be  convinced 
that  the  road  is  unsuitable,  and  absolutely  refuse  to  let  me  go 
without  seeing  the  bicycle  ridden.  After  detaining  me  until  pa- 
tience on  my  part  ceases  to  be  a  virtue,  and  apparently  as  deter- 
mined for  their  purpose  as  ever,  I  am  finally  compelled  to  produce 
the  convincing  argument  with  five  chambers  and  rifled  barrel. 
These  crowds  of  donkey-men  seem  inclined  to  be  rather  lawless, 
and  scarcely  a  day  passes  lately  but  what  this  same  eloquent  argu- 
ment has  to  be  advanced  in  the  interest  of  individual  liberty.  For- 
tunately the  mere  sight  of  a  revolver  in  the  hands  of  a  Ferenghi 
has  the  magical  effect  of  transforming  the  roughest  and  most  over- 
bearing gang  of  ryots  into  peaceful,  retiring  citizens.  The  plain  I 
am  now  traversing  is  a  broad,  gray-looking  area  surrounded  by 
mountains,  and  stretching  away  eastward  from  Lake  Ooroomiah 
for  seventy-five  miles.  It  presents  the  same  peculiar  aspect  of  Per- 
sian scenery  nearly  everywhere — a  general  verdureless  and  unpro- 
ductive country,  with  the  barren  surface  here  and  there  relieved  by 
small  oases  of  cultivated  fields  and  orchards.  The  villages  being- 
built  solely  of  mud,  and  consequently  of  the  same  color  as  the  gen- 
eral surface,  are  undistinguishable  from  a  distance,  unless  rendered 
conspicuous  by  trees. 


PERSIA   AND   THE  TABREEZ  CARAVAN   TRAIL.         475 

Laboring  under  a  slightly  mistaken  impression  concerning  the 
distance  to  Tabreez,  I  push  ahead  in  the  expectation  of  reaching 
there  to-night ;  the  plain  becomes  more  generally  cultivated ;  the 
caravan  routes  from  different  directions  come  to  a  focus  on  broad 
trails  leading  into  the  largest  city  in  Persia,  and  which  is  the  great 
centre  of  distribution  for  European  goods  arriving  by  caravan  to 
Trebizond.  Coming  to  a  large,  scattering  village,  some  time  in  the 
afternoon,  I  trundle  leisurely  through  the  lanes  inclosed  between 
lofty  and  unsightly  mud  walls  thinking  I  have  reached  the  sub- 
urbs of  Tabreez  ;  finding  my  mistake  upon  emerging  on  the  open 
plain  again,  I  am  yet  again  deceived  by  another  spreading  village, 
and  about  six  o'clock  find  myself  wheeling  eastward  across  an  un- 
cultivated stretch  of  uncertain  dimensions.  The  broad  caravan 
trail  is  worn  by  the  trafiSc  of  centuries  considerably  below  the 
level  of  the  general  surface,  and  consists  of  a  number  of  narrow, 
parallel  trails,  along  which  swarms  of  donkeys  laden  with  produce 
from  tributary  villages  daily  plod,  besides  the  mule  and  camel  car- 
avans from  a  greater  distance.  These  narrow  beaten  paths  afford 
excellent  wheeling,  and  I  bowl  along  quite  briskly.  As  one  ap- 
proaches Tabreez,  the  country  is  found  traversed  by  an  intricate 
network  of  irrigating  ditches,  some  of  them  works  of  considerable 
magnitude ;  the  embankments  on  either  side  of  the  road  are  fre- 
quently high  enough  to  obscure  a  horseman.  These  works  are  al- 
most as  old  as  the  hills  themselves,  for  the  cultivation  of  the  Tab- 
reez plain  has  remained  practically  an  unchanged  system  for  three 
thousand  years,  as  though,  like  the  ancient  laws  of  the  Medes  and 
Persians,  it  also  were  made  unchangeable. 

About  dusk  I  fall  in  with  another  riotous  crowd  of  homeward- 
bound  fruit-carriers,  who,  not  satisfied  at  seeing  me  ride  past,  want 
to  stop  me  ;  one  of  them-rushes  up  behind,  grabs  my  package  at- 
tached to  the  rear  baggage-carrier,  and  nearly  causes  an  overthrow  ; 
frightening  him  ofij  I  spurt  ahead,  barely  escaping  two  or  three 
donkey  cudgels  hurled  at  me  in  pure  wantonness,  born  of  the 
courage  inspired  by  a  majority  of  twenty  to  one.  There  is  no 
remedy  for  these  unpleasant  occurrences  except  travelling  under 
escort,  and  the  avoiding  serious  trouble  or  accident  becomes  a 
matter  for  every-day  congratulation.  At  eighteen  miles  from  the 
last  village  it  becomes  too  dark  to  remain  in  the  saddle  without 
danger  of  headers,  and  a  short  trundle  brings  me,  not  to  Tabreez 
even  now,  but  to  another  village  eight  miles  nearer.     Here  there  is 


476 


FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 


a  large  caravanserai.  Near  the  entrance  is  a  hole-in-the-wall  sort  of 
a  shop  wherein  I  espy  a  man  presiding  over  a  tempting  assortment 
of  cantaloupes,  grapes,  and  pears.  The  whirligig  of  fortune  has 
favored  me  to-day  with  tea,  blotting-paper  ekmek,  and  grapes  for 


The  Maivah-jee  Surprised. 


breakfast ;  later  on  two  small  watermelons,  and  at  2  p.m.  blotting- 
paper  ekmek  and  an  infinitesimal  quantity  of  yaort  (now  called  mast). 
It  is  unnecessary  to  add  that  I  arrive  in  this  village  with  an  appetite 
that  will  countenance  no  unnecessary  delay.     Two  splendid  ripe 


PEKSIA  AND   THE   TABEEEZ   CARAVAN  TRAIL.         477 

cantaloupes,  several  fine  bunches  of  grapes,  and  some  pears  are  de- 
voured immediately,  -with  a  reckless  disregard  of  consequences, 
justifiable  only  on  the  grounds  of  semi-starvation  and  a  temporary 
barbarism  born  of  surrounding  circumstances.  After  this  savage 
attack  on  the  maimh-jee's  stock,  I  learn  that  the  village  contains  a 
small  ichai-khan ;  repairing  thither  I  stretch  myself  on  the  divan 
for  an  hour's  repose,  and  afterward  partake  of  tea,  bi-ead,  and 
peaches.     At  bed-time  the  khan-jee  makes  me  up  a  couch  on  the 


i^isi^^^S^i^ 


The  Khan-Jee  Escapes  through  the   Window. 


divan,  locks  the  door  inside,  blows  out  the  light,  and  then,  afraid 
to  occupy  the  same  building  with  such  a  dangerous-looking  indi- 
vidual as  myself,  climbs  to  the  roof  through  a  hole  in  the  wall. 

Eager  villagers  carry  both  myself  and  wheel  across  a  bridge- 
less  stream  upon  resuming  my  journey  to  Tabreez  next  morning  ; 
the  road  is  level  and  ridable,  though  a  trifle  deep  with  dust  and 
sand,  and  in  an  hour  I  am  threading  the  suburban  lanes  of  the  city. 
Along  these  eight  miles  I  certainly  pass  not  less  than  five  hundred 


478  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

pack-donkeys  en  route  to  the  Tabreez  market  with  everything,  from 
baskets  of  the  choicest  fruit  in  the  world  to  huge  bundles  of 
prickly  camel-thorn  and  sacks  of  tezek  for  fuel.  No  animals  in  all 
the  world,  I  should  think,  stand  in  more  urgent  need  of  the  kindly 
offices  of  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals  than 
the  thousands  of  miserable  donkeys  engaged  in  supplying  Tabreez 
with  fuel ;  their  brutal  drivers  seem  utterly  callous  and  indifferent 
to  the  pitiful  sufferings  of  these  patient  toilers.  Numbers  of  in- 
stances are  observed  this  morning  where  the  rough,  ill-fitting 
breech-straps  and  ropes  have  Uterally  see-sawed  then*  way  through 
the  skin  and  deep  into  the  flesh,  and  are  still  rasping  deeper  and 
deeper  every  day,  no  attempt  whatever  being  made  to  remedy  this 
evil ;  on  the  contrary,  their  pitiless  drivers  urge  them  on  by  prod- 
ding the  raw  sores  with  sharpened  sticks,  and  by  belaboring  them 
unceasingly  with  an  instrument  of  torture  in  the  shape  of  whips 
with  six  inches  of  ordinary  trace-chaiu  for  a  lash. 

As  if  the  noble  army  of  Persian  donkey  drivers  were  not  satisfied 
with  the  refinement  of  physical  cruelty  to  which  they  have  attained, 
they  add  insult  to  injury  by  talking  constantly  to  their  donkeys 
while  driving  them  along,  and  accusing  them  of  aU  the  crimes  in 
the  calendar  and  of  every  kind  of  disreputable  action.  Fancy  the 
bitter  sense  of  humiliation  that  must  overcome  the  proud,  haughty 
spirit  of  a  mouse-colored  jackass  at  being  prodded  in  an  open 
wound  with  a  sharp  stick  and  hearing  himself  at  the  same  time 
thus  insultingly  addressed  :  "  Oh,  thou  son  of  a  burnt  father  and 
murderer  of  thine  own  mother,  would  that  I  myself  had  died  rather 
than  my  father  should  have  lived  to  see  me  drive  such  a  brute  as 
thou  art !  "  yet  this  sort  of  talk  is  habitually  indulged  in  by  the  bar- 
barous drivers.  While  young,  the  donkeys'  nostrils  are  sUt  open 
clear  up  to  the  bridge-bone  ;  this  is  popularly  supposed  among  the 
Persians  to  be  an  improvement  upon  nature  in  that  it  gives  them 
greater  freedom  of  respiration.  Instead  of  the  well  known  cluck- 
ing sound  used  among  ourselves  as  a  persuasive,  the  Persian  makes 
a  sound  not  unlike  the  bleating  of  a  sheep  ;  a  stranger,  being  within 
hearing  and  out  of  sight  of  a  gang  of  donkey  drivers  in  a  hurry  to 
reach  their  destination,  would  be  more  likely  to  imagine  himself  in 
the  vicinity  of  a  flock  of  sheep  than  anything  else. 

As  is  usually  the  case,  a  volunteer  guide  bobs  serenely  up  im- 
mediately I  enter  the  city,  and  I  follow  confidently  along,  thinking 
he  is  piloting  me  to  the  English  consulate,  as  I  have  requested ; 


480  FEOM  SAM   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

instead  of  this  lie  steers  me  into  the  custom-house  and  turns  me 
over  to  the  officials.  These  worthy  gentlemen,  after  asking  me  to 
ride  around  the  custom-house  yard,  pretend  to  become  altogether 
mystified  about  what  they  ought  to  do  with  the  bicycle,  and  in  the 
absence  of  any  precedent  to  govern  themselves  by,  finally  conclude 
among  themselves  that  the  proper  thing  would  be  to  confiscate  it. 
Obtaining  a  guide  to  show  me  to  the  residence  of  Mr.  Abbott,  the 
English  consul-general,  that  energetic  representative  of  Her 
Majesty's  government  smiles  audibly  at  the  thoughts  of  their  mys- 
tification, and  then  writes  them  a  letter  couched  in  teims  of  hu- 
morous reproachf  ulness,  asking  them  what  in  the  name  of  Allah  and 
the  Prophet  they  mean  by  confiscating  a  traveller's  horse,  his  car- 
riage, his  camel,  his  everything  on  legs  and  wheels  consolidated 
into  the  beautiful  vehicle  with  which  he  is  journeying  to  Teheran 
to  see  the  Shah,  and  all  around  the  world  to  see  everybody  and 
everything  ? — ending  by  telling  them  that  he  never  in  all  his  con- 
sular experiences  heard  of  a  proceeding  so  utterly  atrocious.  He 
sends  the  letter  by  the  consulate  dragoman,  who  accompanies  me 
back  to  the  custom-house.  The  officers  at  once  see  and  acknowl- 
edge their  mistake  ;  but  meanwhile  they  have  been  examining  the 
bicycle,  and  some  of  them  appear  to  have  fallen  violently  in  love 
with  it ;  they  yield  it  up,  but  it  is  with  apparent  reluctance,  and 
one  of  the  leading  officials  takes  me  into  the  stable,  and  showing 
me  several  splendid  horses  begs  me  to  take  my  choice  from  among 
them  and  leave  the  bicycle  behind. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Abbott  cordially  invite  me  to  become  their  guest 
while  staying  at  Tabreez.  To-day  is  Thursday,  and  although  my 
original  purpose  was  only  to  remain  here  a  couple  of  days,  the  in- 
novation from  roughing  it  on  the  road,  to  roast  duck  for  dinner, 
and  breakfast  in  one's  own  room  of  a  morning,  coupled  with  warn- 
ings against  travelling  on  the  Sabbath  and  invitations  to  dinner  from 
the  American  missionaries,  proves  a  sufficient  inducement  for  me  to 
conclude  to  stay  till  Mcnday,  satisfied  at  the  prospect  of  reaching 
Teheran  in  good  season.  It  is  now  something  less  than  four  hundred 
miles  to  Teheran,  with  the  assurance  of  better  roads  than  I  have 
yet  had  in  Persia,  for  the  greater  portion  of  the  distance  ;  besides 
this,  the  route  is  now  a  regular  post  route  with  chapar-khanas  (post- 
houses)  at  distances  of  four  to  five  farsakhs  apart.  On  Friday  night 
Tabreez  experienced  two  slight  shocks  of  an  earthquake,  and  in  the 
morning  Mr.  Abbott  points  out  several  fissures  in  the  masonry  of 


PERSIA  AND   THE  TABREEZ  CAEAVAlsr  TRAIL.         481 

the  consulate,  caused  by  previous  visitations  of  the  same  undesir- 
able natvire  ;  the  earthquakes  here  seem  to  resemble  the  earthquakes 
of  California  in  that  they  come  reasonably  mild  and  often.  The 
place  likewise  avs^akens  memories  of  the  Golden  State  in  another  and 
more  appreciative  particular  :  nowhere,  save  perhaps  in  California, 
does  one  find  such  delicious  grapes,  peaches,  and  pears  as  at  ancient 
Taurus,  a  specialty  for  which  it  has  been  justly  celebrated  from 
time  immemorial.  On  Saturday  I  take  dinner  with  Mr.  Oldfather, 
one  of  the  missionaries,  and  in  the  evening  we  all  pay  a  visit  to  Mr. 
Whipple  and  family,  the  consulate  link-boy  lighting  the  way  be- 
fore us  with  a  huge  cj'lindrical  lantern  of  transparent  oiled  muslin 
called  &farnooze. 

These  lanterns  are  always  carried  after  night  before  people  of 
wealth  or  social  consequence,  varying  in  size  according  to  the  per- 
son's idea  of  their  own  social  importance.  The  size  of  i\ie  farnooze 
is  supposed  to  be  an  index  of  the  social  position  of  the  person  or 
family,  so  that  one  can  judge  something  of  what  sort  of  people  are 
coming  down  the  street,  even  on  the  darkest  night,  whenever  the 
attendant  hnk-boy  heaves  in  sight  with  ih.e  famooze.  Some  of  these 
social  indicators  are  the  size  of  a  Portland  cement  bai'rel,  even  in 
Persia  ;  it  is  rather  a  smile-provoking  thought  to  think  what  tre- 
mendous yarnoozes  would  be  seen  lighting  up  the  streets  on  gloomy 
evenings,  were  this  same  custom  prevalent  among  ourselves  ;  few 
of  us  but  what  could  call  to  memory  people  whose  farnoozes  would 
be  little  smaller  than  brewery  mash-tubs,  and  which  would  have  to 
be  carried  between  six-foot  link-boys  on  a  pole. 

Ameer-i-Nazan,  the  Valiat  or  heir  apparent  to  the  throne,  and 
at  present  nominal  governor  of  Tabreez,  has  seen  a  tricj'cle  in 
Teheran,  one  having  been  imported  some  time  ago  by  an  English 
gentleman  in  the  Shah's  service  ;  but  the  fame  of  the  bicj'cle  ex- 
cites his  curiosity  and  he  sends  an  officer  around  to  the  consulate 
to  examine  and  report  upon  the  difference  between  bicycle  and 
tricycle,  and  also  to  discover  and  explain  the  modus  operandi  of 
maintaining  one's  balance  on  two  wheels.  The  officer  returns  with 
the  report  that  my  machine  won't  even  stand  up,  without  some- 
body holding  it,  and  that  nobody  but  a  Ferenghi  who  is  in  league 
with  Sheitan,  could  possibly  hope  to  ride  it.  Perhaps  it  is  this 
alarming  report,  and  the  fear  of  exciting  the  prejudices  of  the 
moUahs  and  fanatics  about  him,  by  having  anything  to  do  with  a 
person  reported  on  trustworthy  authority  to  be  in  league  with  His 
31 


482  FROM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

Satanic  Majesty,  that  prevents  tlie  Prince  from  requesting  me  to 
ride  before  liim  in  Tabreez ;  but  I  have  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
him  at  Hadji  Agha  on  the  evening  of  the  first  day  out.  Mr.  Whip- 
ple kindly  makes  out  an  itinerary  of  the  villages  and  chapar-khanas 
I  shall  pass  on  the  journey  to  Teheran  ;  the  superintendent  of  the 
Tabreez  station  of  the  Indo-European  Telegraph  Company  volun- 
tarily telegraphs  to  the  agents  at  Miana  and  Zendjan  when  to  ex- 
pect me,  and  also  to  Teheran  ;  Mrs.  Abbott  fills  my  coat  pockets 
with  roast  chicken,  and  thus  equipped  and  prepared,  at  nine  o'clock 
on  Monday  morning  I  am  ready  for  the  home-stretch  of  the  season, 
before  going  into  winter  quarters. 

The  Turkish  constil-general,  a  corpulent  gentleman  whose  avoir- 
dupois I  mentally  jot  down  at  four  hundred  pounds,  comes  around 
with  several  others  to  see  me  take  a  farewell  spin  on  the  bricked 
pavements  of  the  consulate  garden.  Like  all  persons  of  four  hun- 
dred pounds  weight,  the  Effendi  is  a  good-natured,  jocose  indivi- 
dual, and  causes  no  end  of  merriment  by  pretending  to  be  anxious 
to  take  a  spin  on  the  bicycle  himself,  whereas  it  requires  no  incon- 
siderable exertion  on  his  part  to  waddle  from  his  own  residence 
hard  by  into  the  consulate.  Three  soldiers  are  detailed  from  the 
consulate  staff  to  escort  me  through  the  city  ;  en  route  through  the 
streets  the  pressure  of  the  rabble  forces  one  unlucky  individual 
into  one  of  the  dangerous  narrow  holes  that  abound  in  the  streets, 
up  to  his  neck  ;  the  crowd  yell  with  delight  at  seeing  him  tumble 
in,  and  nobody  stops  to  render  him  any  assistance  or  to  ascertain 
whether  he  is  seriously  hurt.  Soon  a  poor  old  ryot  on  a  donkey, 
happens  amid  the  confusion  to  cross  immediately  in  front  of  the 
bicycle  ;  whack !  whack  !  whack  !  come  the  ready  staves  of  the  zeal- 
ous and  vigilant  soldiers  across  the. shoulders  of  the  offender;  the 
crowd  howls  with  renewed  delight  at  this,  and  several  hilarious 
hobble-de-hoys  endeavor  to  shove  one  of  their  companions  in  the 
j)lace  vacated  by  the  belabored  ryot,  in  the  hope  that  he  likewise 
will  come  in  for  the  visitation  of  the  soldiers'  o'er-willing  staves. 

The  broad  suburban  road,  where  the  people  have  been  fondly 
expecting  to  see  the  bicycle  light  out  in  earnest  for  Teheran  at  a 
marvellous  rate  of  speed,  is  found  to  be  nothing  less  than  a  bed  of 
loose  sand  and  stones,  churned  up  by  the  narrow  hoofs  of  multi- 
tudinous donkeys.  Quite  a  number  of  better  class  Persians  accom- 
pany me  some  distance  further  on  horseback  ;  w'hen  taking  their 
departure,  a  gentleman  on  a  splendid  Arab  charger,  shakes  hands 


PERSIA   AND    THE   TABUEEZ   CAEAYAN   TUAIL.  483 

and  says  :  "  Goocl-by,  my  dear,"  which  apparently  is  all  the  Eng- 
lish he  knows.  He  has  evidently  kept  his  eyes  and  ears  open  when 
happening  about  the  English  consulate,  and  the  happy  thought 
striking  him  at  the  moment,  he  repeats,  parrot-Uke,  this  term  of 
endearment,  all  unsuspicious  of  the  ridiculousness  of  its  applica- 
tion in  the  present  case. 

For  several  miles  the  road  winds  tortuously  over  a  range  of 
low,  stony  hills,  the  surface  being  generally  loose  and  unridable. 
The  water-supply  of  Tabreez  is  conducted  from  these  hills  bj'  an 
ancient  system  of  kanaats  or  underground  water-ditches  ;  occasion- 
ally one  comes  to  a  sloping  cavern  leading  down  to  the  water  ;  on 
descending  to  the  depth  of  from  twenty  to  forty  feet,  a  small, 
rapidly-coursing  stream  of  delicious  cold  water  is  found,  well  re- 
warding the  thirsty  traveller  for  his  trouble  ;  sometimes  these 
cavernous  openings  are  simply  sloping,  bricked  archways,  provided 
with  steps.  The  course  of  these  subterranean  water-ways  can 
always  be  traced  their  entire  length  by  uniform  mounds  of  earth, 
piled  up  at  short  intervals  on  the  surface  ;  each  mound  represents 
the  excavations  from  a  perpendicular  shaft,  at  the  bottom  of  which 
the  crystal  water  can  be  seen  coursing  along  toward  the  city  ;  they 
are  merely  man-holes  for  the  purpose  of  readily  cleaning  out  the 
channel  of  the  kanaat.  The  Avater  is  conducted  underground, 
chiefly  to  avoid  the  waste  by  evaporation  and  absorption  in  surface 
ditches.  These  kanaats  are  verj'  extensive  affaii-s  in  many  places  ; 
the  long  rows  of  surface  mounds  are  visible,  stretching  for  mile 
after  mile  across  the  plain  as  far  as  eye  can  penetrate,  or  until  los- 
ing themselves  among  the  foot-hUls  of  some  distant  mountain 
chain  ;  they  were  excavated  in  the  palmy  days  of  the  Persian  Em- 
pire-to  bring  piu-e  mountain  streams  to  the  city  fountains  and  to 
irrigate  the  thirsty  plain  ;  it  is  in  the  interest  of  self-preservation 
that  the  Persians  now  keep  them  from  falling  into  decay. 

At  noon,  while  seated  on  a  grassy  knoU  discussing  the  before- 
mentioned  contents  of  my  pockets,  I  am  favored  with  a  free  ex- 
hibition of  what  a  physical  misunderstanding  is  like  among  the 
Persian  ryots.  Two  companies  of  kalir-jees  happen  to  get  into  an 
altercation  about  something,  and  from  words  it  gradually  develops 
into  blows  ;  not  blows  of  the  fist,  for  they  know  nothing  of  fisti- 
cuffs, but  they  belabor  each  other  vigorously  with  their  long,  thick 
donkey  persuaders,  sticks  that  are  anything  but  small  and  willowy  ; 
it  is  an  amusing  spectacle,  and  seated  on  the  commanding  knoll 


484 


FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


nibbling  "  drum-sticks"  and  wish-bones,  I  can  almost  fancy  myself 
a  Eoman  of  old,  eating  peanuts  and  -watching  a  gladiatorial  contest 
in  the  amphitheatre.  The  simiUtude,  however,  is  not  at  all  strik- 
ing, for  thick  as  are  their  quarter-staffs  the  Persian  ryots  don't 
punish  each  other  very  severely.  Whenever  one  of  them  works 
himself  up  to  a  fighting-pitch,  he  commences  belaboring  one  of  the 
others  on  the  back,  apparently  always  striking  so  that  the  blow 
produces  a  maximum  of  noise  with  a  minimum  of  punishment ;  the 


Persian  Katlr-jees  Differ. 


W50-CV 


person  thus  attacked  never  ventures  to  strike  back,  but  retreats 
under  the  blows  until  his  assailant's  rage  becomes  spent  and  he 
desists.  Meanwhile  the  war  of  words  goes  merrily  forward ;  per- 
chance in  a  few  minutes  the  person  recently  attacked  suddenly  be- 
comes possessed  of  a  certain  amount  of  rage-inspired  courage,  and 
he  in  turn  commences  a  vigorous  assault  upon  somebody,  probably 
his  late  assailant ;  this  worthy,  having  become  a  httle  cooler,  has 
mysteriously  lost  his  late  pugnacity,  and  now  likewise  retreats 
without  once  attempting  to  raise  his  own  stick  in  self-defence.    The 


PERSIA   AND   THE  TABREEZ  CARAVAN  TRAIL.         485 

lower  and  commercial  class  Persians  are  pretty  quarrelsome  among 
themselves,  but  they  quarrel  chiefly  with  their  tongues  ;  when  they 
fight  without  sticks  it  is  an  ear-puUing,  clothes-tugging,  wrestling 
sort  of  a  scuffle,  which  continues  without  greater  injury  than  a  torn 
gai-ment  until  they  become  eshausteil  if  pretty  evenly  matched,  or 
until  separated  by  bystanders  ;  they  never,  never  hurt  each  other 
unless  they  are  intoxicated,  when  they  sometimes  use  their  short 
swords ;  there  is  no  intoxication,  except  in  private  drinking-parties. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

TABEEEZ  TO  TEHERAN. 

The  wheeling  improves  in  the  afternoon,  and  alongside  my 
road  runs  a  bit  of  civilization  in  the  shape  of  the  splendid  iron  poles 
of  the  Indo-European  Telegraph  Company.  Half  a  dozen  times 
this  afternoon  I  become  the  imaginary  enemy  of  a  cou^Dle  of  cavalry- 
men travelling  in  the  same  direction  as  myself  ;  they  swoop  down 
upon  me  from  the  rear  at  a  charging  gallop,  valiantly  whooping 
and  brandishing  their  Martini-Henrys ;  when  they  arrive  within 
a  few  yards  of  my  rear  wheel  they  swerve  off  on  either  side  and 
rein  their  fiery  chargers  up,  allowing  me  to  forge  ahead  ;  they 
amuse  themselves  by  repeating  this  interesting  performance  over 
and  over  again.  Being  usually  a  good  rider,  the  dash  and  courage 
of  the  Persian  cavalryman  is  something  extraordinary  in  time  of 
peace ;  no  more  brilliant  and  intrepid  cavalry  charge  on  a  small 
scale  could  be  well  imagined  than  I  have  witnessed  several  times 
this  afternoon.  But  upon  the  outbreak  of  serious  hostilities  the 
average  warrior  in  the  Shah's  service  suddenly  becomes  filled  with 
a  wild,  pathetic  yearning  after  the  peaceful  and  honorable  calling 
of  a  halir-jee,  an  uncontrollable  desire  to  become  a  humble,  con- 
tented tiller  of  the  soil,  or  handy-man  about  a  tchai-khan,  anything, 
in  fact,  of  a  strictly  peaceful  character.  Were  I  a  hostile  trooper 
with  a  red  jacket,  and  a  general  warlike  appearance,  and  the  bi- 
cycle a  machine  gun,  though  our  whooping,  charging  cavalrymen 
were  twenty  instead  of  two,  they  would  only  charge  once,  and  that 
would  be  with  their  horses'  crimson-dyed  tails  streaming  in  the 
breeze  toward  me.  The  Shah's  soldiers  are  gentle,  unwarlike 
creatures  at  heart ;  there  are  probably  no  soldiers  in  the  whole 
world  that  would  acquit  themselves  less  creditably  in  a  pitched 
battle  ;  they  are,  nevertheless,  not  without  certain  soldierly  quali- 
ties, well  adapted  to  their  country  ;  the  cavalrymen  are  very  good 
riders,  and  although  the  infantry  does  not  present  a  very  encourag- 
ing appearance  on  the  parade-ground,  they  would  meander  across 


TABREEZ   TO   TEHEBAN. 


487 


five  hundred  miles  of  country  on  half  rations  of  blotting-paper  ek- 
mek  without  any  vigorous  remonstrance,  and  wait  uncomplainingly 
for  their  pay  until  the  middle  of  nest  year. 

About  five  o'clock  I  arrive  at  Hadji  Agha,  a  large  vUlage  forty 
miles  from  Tabreez  ;  here,  as  soon  as  it  is  ascertained  that  I  intend 
remaining  over  night,  I  am  actually  beset  by  rival  khan-jees,  who 
commence  jabbering  and  gesticulating  about  the  merits  of  their 


They  Swoop  Down  on  Me  from  the  Rear, 


respective  estabUshments,  like  hotel-runners  in  the  United  States  ; 
of  course  they  are  several  degrees  less  rude  and  boisterous,  and 
more  considerate  of  one's  personal  inclinations  than  their  proto- 
types in  America,  but  they  furnish  yet  another  proof  that  there  is 
nothing  new  under  the  sun.  Hadji  Agha  is  a  village  of  seyuds,  or 
descendants  of  the  Prophet,  these  and  the  mollahs  being  the 
most  bigoted  class  in  Persia  ;  when  I  drop  into  the  tchai-khan  for 
a  glass  or  two  of  tea,  the  sanctimonious  old  joker  with  henna-tinted 


488  FROM   SAN  FUANCISCO  TO  TEHEEAN. 

beard  and  finger-nails,  presiding  over  the  samovar,  rolls  up  his 
eyes  in  holy  horror  at  the  thoughts  of  waiting  upon  an  unhallovyed 
Ferenghi,  and  it  requires  considerable  pressure  from  the  younger 
and  less  fanatical  men  to  overcome  his  disinclination  ;  he  proba- 
bly breaks- the  glass  I  drank  from  after  my  departure. 

About  dusk  the  Valiat  and  his  courtiers  arrive  on  horseback 
from  Tabreez  ;  the  Prince  immediately  seeks  my  quarters  at  the 
than,  and,  after  examining  the  bicycle,  wants  me  to  take  it  out  and 
ride  ;  it  is  getting  rather  dark,  however,  so  I  put  him  off  till  morn- 
ing; he  remains  and  smokes  cigarettes  with  me  for  half  an  hour', 
and  then  retires  to  the  residence  of  the  local  Khan  for  the  night. 
The  Prince  seems  an  amiable,  easy-going  sort  of  a  person ;  while 
in  my  company  his  countenance  is  wreathed  in  a  pleasant  smile 
continually,  and  I  fancy  he  habitually  wears  that  same  expression. 
His  youthful  courtiers  seem  frivolous  young  bloods,  putting  in 
most  of  the  half-hour  iu  showing  me  their  accomplishments  in  the 
way  of  making  floating  rings  of  their  cigarette  smoke.  Later  in 
the  evening  I  stroll  around  to  the  tchai-khan  again  ;  it  is  the  gos- 
siping-place  of  the  village,  and  I  find  our  sanctimonious  seyuds 
indulging  iu  uncomplimentary  comments  regarding  the  Valiat's 
conduct  in  hobnobbing  with  the  Ferenghi  ;  how  bigoted  these 
Persians  are,  and  yet  how  utterly  destitute  of  principle  and  moral 
character ! 

In  the  morning  the  Prince  sends  me  an  invitation  to  come  and 
drink  tea  with  them  before  starting  out ;  he  bears  the  same  f)er- 
ennial  smile  as  j'esterday  evening.  Although  he  is  generally  un- 
derstood to  be  completely  under  the  influence  of  the  fanatical  and 
bigoted  seyuds  and  moUahs,  who  are  strictly  opposed  to  the  Fer- 
enghi and  the  Ferenghi's  ideas  of  progress  and  civilization,  he 
seems  withal  an  amiable,  well-disposed  young  inan,  whom  one 
could  scarce  help  liking  personally,  and  feeling  sorry  at  the 
troubles  in  store  for  him  ahead.  He  has  an  elder  brother,  the  Zil- 
es-Sultan,  now  governor  of  the  Southern  Provinces  ;  but  not  being 
the  son  of  a  royal  princess,  the  Shah  has  nominated  Ameer-i-Nazau 
as  his  successor  to  the  throne.  The  ZU-es-Sultan,  although  of  a 
somewhat  cruel  disposition,  has  proved  himself  a  far  more  capable 
and  energetic  person  than  the  Valiat,  and  makes  no  secret  of  the 
fact  that  he  intends  disputing  the  succession  with  his  brother,  by 
force  of  arms  if  necessarj',  at  the  Shah's  demise.  He  has,  so  at 
least  it  is  currently  reported,  had  his  sword-blade  engraved  with 


490  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

the  grim  inscription,  "This  is  for  theValiat's  head,"  and  has  jocu- 
lariy  notified  his  inoffensive  brother  of  the  fact.  The  Zil-es-Sultan 
belongs  to  the  party  of  progress ;  recks  Httle  of  the  opinions  of 
priests  and  fanatics,  is  fOnd  of  Englishmen  and  European  improve- 
ments, and  keeps  a  kennel  of  English  bull  dogs.  Should  he  become 
Shall  of  Persia,  Baron  Eeuter's  grand  scheme  of  railway's  and  com- 
mercial regeneration,  ■which  was  foiled  by  the  fanaticism  of  the 
seyuds  and  moUahs  soon  after  the  Shah's  visit  to  England,  may 
yet  come  to  something,  and  the  railroad  rails  now  rusting  in  the 
swamps  of  the  Caspian  littoral  may,  after  all,  form  part  of  a  rail- 
way between  the  seaboard  and  the  capital. 

The  road  for  a  short  distance  east  of  Hadji  Agha  is  splendid 
wheeling,  and  the  Prince  and  his  courtiers  accompany  me  for  some 
two  miles,  finding  much  amusement  in  racing  with  me  whenever 
the  road  permits  of  spurting.  The  country  now  develops  into  un- 
dulating upland,  uncultivated  and  stone-strewn,  except  where  an 
occasional  stream,  affording  irrigating  facilities,  has  rendered  possi- 
ble the  permanent  maintenance  of  a  mud  village  and  a  circum- 
scribed area  of  wheat-fields,  melon-gardens,  and  vinej-ards. 

No  sooner  does  one  find  himself  launched  upon  the  compara- 
tively well-travelled  post-route  than  a  difference  becomes  manifest 
in  the  character  of  the  people.  Commercially  speaking,  the  Persian 
is  considerably  more  of  a  Jew  than  the  Jew  himself,  and  along  a 
route  frequented  by  travellers,  the  jjerson  possessing  some  little 
knowledge  of  the  thievish  ways  of  the  country  and  of  current 
prices,  besides  having  plenty  of  small  change,  finds  these  advantages 
a  matter  for  congratulation  almost  every  hour  of  the  day.  The 
proprietor  of  a  wretched  little  mud  hovel,  solemnly  presiding  over 
a  few  thin  sheets  of  bread,  a  jar  of  rancid,  hirsute  butter,  and  a 
dozen  half-ripe  melons,  affects  a  glum,  sorrowful  expression  to 
think  that  he  should  happen  to  be  without  small  change,  and  con- 
sequently obliged  to  accept  the  Hamsherri's  fifty  kopec  piece  for 
provisions  of  one -tenth  the  value  ;  but  the  mysterious  frequency  of 
this  same  state  of  affairs  and  accompanying  sorrowful  expression, 
taken  in  connection  with  the  actual  plenitude  of  small  change  in 
Persia,  awakens  suspicions  even  in  the  mind  of  the  most  confiding 
and  uninitiated  jperson.  A  peculiar  system  of  commercial  mendi- 
cancy obtains  among  the  proprietors  of  melon  and  cucumber  gar- 
dens alongside  the  road  of  this  particular  part  of  the  country  ;  ob- 
serving a  likely-looking  traveller  approaching,  they  come  running 


TABllEEZ  TO   TEHERAN.  491 

to  him  with  a  melon  or  cucumber  that  they  know  to  be  utterly 
worthless,  and  beg  the  traveller  to  accept  it  as  a  present ;  delighted, 
perhaps  with  their  apparent  simple-hearted  hospitality,  and,  more- 
over, sufficiently  thirsty  to  appreciate  the  gift  of  a  melon,  the  tin- 
suspecting  wayfarer  tenders  the  ei-afty  proprietor  of  the  garden  a 
suitable  present  of  money  in  return  and  accepts  the  proffered 
gift ;  upon  cutting  it  open  he  finds  the  melon  unfit  for  anything, 
and  it  gradually  dawns  upon  him  that  he  has  just  grown  a  trifle 
wiser  concerning  the  inbred  cunningness  and  utter  dishonesty  of 
the  Persians  than  he  was  before.  Ere  the  day  is  ended  the  same 
game  will  probably  be  attempted  a  dozen  times. 

In  addition  to  these  artful  customers,  one  occasionally  comes 
across  small  colonies  of  lepers,  who,  being  compelled  to  isolate 
themselves  from  their  fellows,  have  taken  up  their  abode  in  rude 
hovels  or  caves  by  the  road-side,  and  sally  forth  in  all  their  hide- 
ousness  to  beset  the  traveller  with  piteous  cries  for  assistance. 
Some  of  these  poor  lepers  are  loathsome  in  appearance  to  the  last 
degree  ;  their  scanty  coverings  of  rags  and  tatters  conceals  noth- 
ing of  the  ravages  of  their  dread  disease ;  some  sit  at  the  entrance 
to  their  hovels,  stretching  out  their  hands  and  piteously  appealing 
for  alms  ;  others  drop  down  exhausted  in  the  road  while  endeavor- 
ing to  run  and  overtake  the  passer-by  ;  there  is  nothing  deceptive 
about  these  wretched  outcasts,  their  condition  is  only  too  glaringly 
apparent. 

Toward  sundown  I  arrive  at  Turcomanchai,  a  large  village, 
where  in  1828,  was  drawn  up  the  Treaty  of  Peace  between  Persia 
and  Eussia,  which  transferred  the  remaining  Persian  territory  of 
the  Caucasus  into  the  capacious  maw  of  the  Northern  Bear.  It  is 
currently  reported  that  after  depriving  the  Persians  of  their 
lights  to  the  navigation  of  the  Caspian  Sea  the  Czar  coolly  gave 
his  amiable  friend  the  Shah  a  practical  lesson  concerning  the  irony 
of  fortune  by  presenting  him  with  a  yacht.  Seeking  the  guidance 
of  a  native  to  the  caravanserai,  this  quick-witted  individual  leads 
the  way  through  tortuous  alleyways  to  the  other  end  of  the  village 
and  pilots  me  to  the  camp  of  a  tea  caravan,  pitched  on  the  out- 
skirts, thinking  I  had  requested  to  be  guided  to  a  caravan  ;  the 
caravan  men  direct  me  to  the  chapar-khana,  where  accommodations 
of  the  usual  rude  nature  are  provided.  Sending  into  the  vil- 
lage for  eggs,  sugar,  and  tea,  the  chapar-khana  keeper  and  stable- 
men produce  a  battered   samovar,  and  after  frying  my  supper. 


492  FROM   SAlSr  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

they  prepare  tea ;  they  are  poor,  ragged  fellows,  but  they  seem 
light-hearted  and  contented  ;  the  siren  song  of  the  steaming 
samovar  seems  to  awaken  in  their  semi-civilized  breasts  a  sympathetic 
response,  and  they  fall  to  singing  and  making  meri-y  over  tiny 
glasses  of  sweetened  tea  quite  as  naturally  as  sailors  in  a  seaport 
groggery,  or  Germans  over  a  keg  of  lager.  Jolly,  happy-go-lucky 
fellows  though  they  outwardly  appear,  they  prove  no  exception, 
however,  to  the  general  run  of  their  countrymen  in  the  matter  of 
petty  dishonesty  ;  although  I  gave  them  money  enough  to  purchase 
twice  the  quantity  of  provisions  they  brought  back,  besides  promis- 
ing them  the  customary  small  present  before  leaving,  in  the 
morning  they  make  a  further  attempt  on  my  purse  under  pretence 
of  purchasing  more  butter  to  cook  the  remainder  of  the  eggs. 
These  are  trifling  matters  to  discuss,  but  they  serve  to  show  the 
wide  difference  between  the  character  of  the  peasant  classes  in 
Persia  and  Turkey.  The  chapar-khana  usually  consists  of  a  walled 
enclosure  containing  stabling  for  a  large  number  of  horses  and 
quarters  for  the  stablemen  and  station-keeper.  The  quickest  mode 
of  travelling  in  Persia  is  by  chapar,  or,  in  other  words,  on  horse- 
back, obtaining  fresh  horses  at  each  chapar-khana. 

The  country  east  of  Turcomanchai  consists  of  rough,  uninterest- 
ing upland,  with  nothing  to  vary  the  monotony  of  the  journey, 
until  noon,  when  after  wheeling  five  farsakhs  I  reach  the  town  of 
Miana,  celebrated  throughout  the  Shah's  dominions  for  a  certain 
poisonous  bug  which  inhabits  the  mud  walls  of  the  houses,  and  is 
reputed  to  bite  the  inhabitants  while  they  are  sleeping.  The  bite 
is  said  to  produce  violent  and  prolonged  fever,  and  to  be  even 
dangerous  to  life.  It  is  customary  to  warn  travellers  against  re- 
maining over  night  at  Miana,  and,  of  course,  I  have  not  by  any 
means  been  forgotten.  Like  most  of  these  alleged  dreadful  things, 
it  is  found  upon  close  investigation  to  be  a  big  bogey  with  just 
sufficient  truthfulness  about  it  to  play  upon  the  imaginative  minds 
of  the  people.  The  "Miana  bug-bear"  would,  I  think,  be  a  more 
appropriate  name  than  Miana  bug.  The  people  here  seem  in- 
clined to  be  rather  rowdyish  in  their  reception  of  a  Perenghi  with- 
out an  escort.  While  trundling  through  the  bazaar  toward  the 
telegraph  station  I  become  the  unhappy  target  for  covertly  thrown 
melon-rinds  and  other  unwelcome  missiles,  for  which  there  appears 
no  remedy  except  the  friendly  shelter  of  the  station.  This  is  just 
outside  the  town,  and  before  the  gate  is  reached,  stones  are  ex- 


TABREEZ  TO   TEHERAN.  493 

changed  for  melon-rinds,  but  fortunately  without  any  serious  dam- 
age being  done. 

Mr.  F ,  a  young  German  operator,  has  charge  of  the  con- 
trol-station here,  and  welcomes  me  most  cordially  to  share  his  com- 
fortable quarters,  urging  me  to  remain  with  him  several  days.     I 

gladly  accept  his  hospitality  till  to-morrow  morning.     Mr.  P 

has  a  brother  who  has  recently  become  a  Mussulman,  and  married 
a  couple  of  Persian  wives  ;  he  is  also  residing  temporarily  at  Mi- 
ana.  He  soon  comes  around  to  the  telegraph  station,  and  turns 
out  to  be  a  wild  harum-skarum  sort  of  a  person,  who  regards  his 
transformation  into  a  Mussulman  and  the  setting  up  of  a  harem  of 
his  own  as  anything  but  a  serious  affair.  As  a  reward  for  embrac- 
ing the  Mohammedan  religion  and  becoming  a  Persian  subject  the 
Shah  has  given  him  a  sum  of  money  and  a  position  in  the  Tabreez 
mint,  besides  bestowing  upon  him  the  sounding  title  of  Mirza  Ab- 
dul Karim  Khan.  It  seems  that  inducements  of  a  like  substantial 
nature  are  held  out  to  any  Ferenghi  of  known  respectability  who 
formally  embraces  the  Shiite  branch  of  the  Mohammedan  religion, 
and  becomes  a  Persian  subject — a  rare  chance  for  chronic  ne'er-do- 
wells  among  ourselves,  one  would  think. 

This  novel  and  festive  convert  to  Islam  readily  gives  me  a  men- 
tal peep  behind  the  scenes  of  Persian  domestic  life,  and  would  un- 
hesitatingly have  granted  me  a  peep  in  person  had  such  a  thing 
been  possible.  Imagine  the  ordinary  costume  of  an  opera-bouffe 
artist,  shorn  of  all  regard  for  the  difference  between  real  indecency 
and  the  suggestiveness  of  indelicacy  permissible  behind  the  foot- 
Hghts,  and  we  have  the  every-day  costume  of  the  Persian  harem. 
In  the  dreamy  eventide  the  lord  of  the  harem  usually  betakes  him- 
self to  that  characteristic  institution  of  the  East  and  proceeds  to 
drive  dull  care  away  by  smoking  the  kalian  and  watching  an  exhi- 
bition of  the  terpsichorean  talent  of  his  wives  or  slaves.  This  does 
not  consist  of  dancing,  such  as  we  are  accustomed  to  understand 
the  art,  but  of  graceful  posturing  and  bodily  contortions,  spinning- 
round  like  a  coryphee,  with  hand  aloft,  and  snapping  their  fingers 
or  clashing  tiny  brass  cymbals  ;  standing  with  feet  motionless  and 
wrigghng  the  joints,  or  bending  backward  until  their  loose,  flowing 
tresses  touch  the  ground.  Persians  able  to  ai5ford  the  luxury  have 
their  womens'  apartment  walled  with  mirrors,  placed  at  appropri- 
ate angles,  so  that  when  enjoying  these  exhibitions  of  his  wives' 
abilities  he  finds  himself  not  merely  in  the  presence  of  three  or  six 


494  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

wives,  as  the  case  may  be,  but  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  scores  of 
airy-fairy  nymphs,  and  amid  the  dreamy  fumes  and  soothing  hub- 
ble-bubbling  of  his  kalian  can  imagine  himself  the  happy — or  one 
would  naturally  think,  unhappy — possessor  of  a  hundred.  The  ef- 
fect of  this  mirror-work  arrangement  can  be  better  imagined  than 
described. 

"You  haven't  got  one  of  those  mirrored  rooms,  have  you?"  I 
inquire,  beginning  to  get  a  trifle  inquisitive,  and  perhaps  rather 
impertinent.     "  You  coiddn't  manage  to  smuggle  a  fellow  inside, 

disguisedas  a  seyud  or "    "  Nicht,"  replies  Mii-za  Abdul  Kaiim 

Khan,  laughing,  "  I  have  not  bothered  about  a  mirror  chamber  yet, 
because  I  only  remain  here  for  another  month  ;  but  if  you  happen 
to  come  to  Tabreez  any  time  after  I  get  settled  down  there,  look 
me  up,  and  I'll — hello !  here  comes  Prince  AssabduUa  to  see  your 
velocipede ! " 

Fatteh-Ali  Shah,  the  grandfather  of  the  present  monarch,  had 
some  seventy-two  sons,  besides  no  lack  of  daughters.  As  the  son 
of  a  prince  inherits  his  father's  title  in  Persia,  the  numerous  de- 
scendants of  Patteh-Ali  Shah  are  scattered  all  over  the  empu-e,  and 
royal  princes  bob  serenely  up  in  every  town  of  any  consequence  in 
the  country.  They  are  frequently  found  occupying  some  snug, 
but  not  always  lucrative,  post  under  the  Government.  Prince  Assab- 
duUa has  learned  telegraphy,  and  has  charge  of  the  government  con- 
trol-station here,  drawing  a  salary  considerably  loss  than  the  agent 
of  the  English  company's  line.  The  Persian  Government  telegraph 
line  consists  of  one  wire  strung  on  tumble-down  wooden  poles.  It 
is  erected  alongside  the  splendid  English  line  of  triple  wires  and 
substantial  iron  jDoles,  and  the  control-stations  are  built  adjacent 
to  the  English  stations,  as  though  the  Persians  were  rather  timid 
about  their  own  abiHties  as  telegraphists,  and  preferred  to  nestle, 
as  it  were,  under  the  protecting  shadow  of  the  English  hue. 
Prince  AssabduUa  has  an  elder  brother  who  is  Governor  of  Miana, 
and  who  comes  around  to  see  the  bicycle  during  the  afternoon  ; 
they  both  seem  pleasant  and  agreeable  fellows.  When  the  heat  of 
the  day  has  given  place  to  cooler  eventide,  and  the  moon  comes 
peeping  over  the  lofty  Koflan  Koo  Mountains,  near-by  to  the  east- 
ward, we  proceed  to  a  large  fruit-garden  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
town,  and,  sitting  on  the  roof  of  a  building",  indulge  in  luscious 
purple  grapes  as  large  as  walnuts,  and  pears  that  melt  away  in  the 
mouth.     Mirza  Abdul  Kiirim  Khan  plays  a  German  accordeon,  and 


496  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

Prince  Assabdulla  sings  a  Persian  love-song  ;  the  leafy  branches 
of  poplar  groves  are  whispering  in  response  to  a  gentle  breeze, 
and  playing  hide-and-seek  across  the  golden  face  of  the  moon,  and 
the  mountains  have  assumed  a  shadowy,  indistinct  appearance.  It 
is  a  scene  of  transcendental  loveliness,  characteristic  of  a  Persian 
moonlight  night. 

Afterward  we  repair  to  Mirza  Abdul  Karim  Khan's  house  to 
smoke  the  kalian  and  drink  tea.  His  favorite  wife,  whom  he  has 
taught  to  respond  to  the  purely  Frangistan  name  of  "Eosie," 
replenishes  and  lights  the  kalian — giving  it  a  few  preliminary 
puffs  herself  by  way  of  getting  it  under  headway  before  handing 
it  to  her  husband — and  then  serves  us  with  glasses  of  sweetened 
tea  from  the  samovar.  In  deference  to  her  Ferenghi  brother-in- 
law  and  myself,  Eosie  has  donned  a  gauzy  shroud  over  the 
above-mentioned  in-door  costume  of  the  Persian  female.  "She 
is  a  beautiful  dancer,"  says  her  husband,  admiringly,  "  I  wish  it 
were  possible  for  you  to  see  her  dance  this  evening  ;  but  it  isn't ; 
Eosie  herself  wouldn't  mind,  but  it  would  be  pretty  certain  to  leak 
out,  and  Miana  being  a  rather  fanatical  place,  my  life  wouldn't  be 
worth  that  much,''  and  the  Khan  carelessly  snapjped  his  fingers. 
Supper  is  brought  up  to  the  telegraph  station.  Prince  Assabdulla 
is  invited,  and  comes  round  with  his  servant  bearing  a  number  of 
cucumbers  and  a  bottle  of  arrack  ;  the  Prince,  being  a  genuine 
Mohammedan,  is  forbidden  by  his  religion  to  indulge  ;  consequently 
he  consumes  the  fiery  arrack  in  preference  to  some  light  and  harm- 
less native  wine  ;  such  is  the  perversity  of  human  nature. 

Two  princes  and  a  khan  are  cantering  (not  khan-tering)  along- 
side the  bicycle  as  I  pull  out  eastward  from  Miana.  They  accom- 
pany me  to  the  foot-hills  approaching  the  Koflan  Koo  Pass,  and 
wishing  me  a  pleasant  journey,  turn  their  horses'  heads  homeward 
again.  Beaching  the  pass  proper,  I  find  it  to  be  an  exceedingly 
steep  trundle,  but  quite  easy  climbing  compared  with  a  score  of 
mountain  passes  in  Asia  Minor,  for  the  surface  is  reasonably 
smooth,  and  toward  the  summit  is  an  ancient  stone  causeway.  A 
new  and  delightful  experience  awaits  me  upon  the  summit  of  the 
pass  ;  the  view  to  the  westward  is  a  revelation  of  mountain  scenery 
altogether  new  and  novel  in  my  experience,  which  can  now  scarcely 
be  called  unvaried.  I  seem  to  be  elevated  entirely  above  the  sur- 
face of  the  earth,  and  gazing  down  tln-ough  transpai-ent,  ethereal 
depths  upon  a  scene  of  everchanging  beauty.     Fleecy  cloudlets  are 


TABREEZ  TO   TEHERAN.  497 

floating  lazily  over  the  valley  far  below  my  position,  producing  ou 
the  landscape  a  panoramic  scene  of  constantly  changing  shadows  ; 
through  the  ethery  depths,  so  wonderfully  transparent,  the  billowy 
gray  foot-hills,  the  meandering  streams  fringed  with  green,  and 
Miana  with  its  blue -domed  mosques  and  emerald  gardens,  present 
a  phantasmagorical  appearance,  as  though  they  themselves  were 
floating  about  in  the  lower  strata  of  space,  and  undergoing  constant 
transformation.  Perched  on  an  apparently  inaccessible  crag  to 
the  north  is  an  ancient  robber  stronghold  commanding  the  pass  ; 
it  is  a  natural  fortress,  requiring  but  a  few  finishing  touches  by 
man  to  render  it  impregnable  in  the  days  when  the  maintenance 
of  robber  strongholds  were  possible.  Owing  to  its  walls  and  bat- 
tlements being  chiefly  erected  by  nature,  the  Persian  peasantry 
call  it  the  Perii-Kasr,  believing  it  to  have  been  built  by  fairies. 
While  descending  the  eastern  slope,  I  surprise  a  gray  lizard  almost 
as  large  as  a  rabbit,  basking  in  the  sunbeams  ;  he  briskly  scuttles 
off  into  the  rocks  upon  being  disturbed. 

Crossing  the  Sefid  RUd  on  a  dilapidated  brickwork  bridge,  I 
cross  another  range  of  low  hiUs,  among  which  I  notice  an  abun- 
dance of  mica  cropping  above  the  surface,  and  then  descend  on  to 
a  broad,  level  plain,  extending  eastward  without  any  lofty  elevation 
as  far  as  eye  can  reach.  Ou  this  shelterless  plain  I  am  overtaken 
by  a  furious  equinoctial  gale ;  it  comes  howling  suddenly  from  the 
west,  obscuring  the  recently  vacated  Koflan  Koo  Mountains  behind 
an  inky  veil,  filling  the  air  with  clouds  of  dust,  and  for  some  min- 
utes Rendering  it  necessary  to  lie  down  and  fairly  hang  on  to  the 
ground  to  prevent  being  blown  about.  First  it  begins  to  rain,  then 
to  hail ;  heaven's  artillery  echoes  and  reverberates  in  the  Koflan  Koo 
Mountains,  and  rolls  above  the  plain,  seeming  to  shake  the  hail- 
stones down  like  fruit  from  the  branches  of  the  clouds,  and  soon  I 
am  enveloped  in  a  pelting,  pitiless  downj)our  of  hailstones,  plenty 
large  enough  to  make  themselves  felt  wherever  they  strike.  To 
pitch  my  tent  would  have  been  impossible,  owing  to  the  wind  and 
the  suddenness  of  its  appearance.  In  thirty  minutes  or  less  it  is 
all  over ;  the  sun  shines  out  warmly  and  dissipates  the  clouds,  and 
converts  the  ground  into  an  evaporator  that  envelops  everything  in 
steam.  In  an  hour  after  it  quits  raining,  the  road  is  dry  again,  and 
across  the  plain  it  is  for  the  most  part  excellent  wheeling. 

About  four  o'clocit  the  considerable  village  of  Sercham  is 
reached  ;  here,  as  at  Hadji  Aghi,  I  at  once  become  the  bone  of  con- 
33 


498  FROM  SA]sr  feancisco  to  teheean. 

tention  between  rival  khan-jees  wanting  to  secure  me  for  a  guest,  on 
the  supposition  that  I  am  going  to  remain  over  night.  Their  anx- 
iety is  all  unnecessary,  however,  for  away  oif  on  the  eastern  horizon 
can  be  observed  clusters  of  familiar  black  dots  that  awaken  agree- 
able reflections  of  the  night  spent  in  the  Koordish  camp  between 
Ovahjik  and  Khoi.  I  remain  in  Sercham  long  enough  to  eat  a 
watermelon,  ride,  against  my  will,  over  rough  ground  to  appease 


The  Biidgeless  Streams  of  Asia. 

the  crowd,  and  then  pull  out  toward  the  Koordish  camps  which 
are  evidently  situated  near  my  proper  course. 

It  seems  to  have  rained  heavily  in  the  mountains  and  not  rained 
at  all  east  of  Sercham,  for  during  the  next  hour  1  am  compelled 
to  disrobe,  and  ford  several  freshets  coursing  down  ravines  over 
beds  that  before  the  storm  were  inches  deep  in  dust,  the  approach- 
ing slopes  being  still  dusty  ;  this  little  diversion  causes  me  to  thank 
foi-tune  that  I  have  been  enabled  to  keep  in  advance  of  the  regular 
rainy  season,  which  commences  a  little  later.     Striking  a  Koordish 


TABKEEZ  TO  TEHEEAN.  499 

camp  adjacent  to  the  trail  I  trundle  toward  one  of  the  tents  ;  before 
reaching  it  I  am  overhauled  by  a  shepherd  who  hands  me  a  handful 
of  dried  peaches  from  a  wallet  suspended  from  his  waist.  The  even-, 
ing  air  is  cool  vnth  a  suggestion  of  frostiness,  and  the  occupants  of 
the  tent  are  found  crouching  around  a  smoking  tezek  fire  ;  they  are 
ragged  and  of  rather  unprepossessing  appearance,  but  being  in- 
stinctively hospitable,  they  shuffle  around  to  make  me  welcome  at 
the  fire  ;  at  first  I  almost  fancy  myself  mistaken  in  thinking  them 
Koords,  for  there  is  nothing  of  the  neatness  and  cleanliness  of  our 
late  acquaintances  about  them  ;  on  the  contrary,  they  are  almost 
as  repulsive  as  their  sedentary  relatives  of  Dele  Baba — but  a  little 
questioning  removes  all  doubt  of  their  being  Koords.  They  are 
simply  an  ill-conditioned  tribe,  without  any  idea  whatever  of  thrift 
or  good  management.-  They  have  evidently  been  to  Tabreez  or 
somewhere  lately,  and  invested  most  of  the  proceeds  of  the  season's 
shearing  in  three-year-old  dried  peaches  that  are  hard  enough  to 
rattle  like  pebbles  ;  sacksful  of  these  edibles  are  scattered  all  over 
the  tent  serving  for  seats,  pillows,  and  general  utility  articles  for 
the  youngsters  to  roU  about  on,  jump  over,  and  throw  around ; 
everybody  in  the  camp  seems  to  be  chewing  these  peaches  and 
throwing  them  about  in  sheer  wantonness  because  they  are  plenti- 
ful ;  every  sack  contains  finger-holes  from  which  one  and  all  help 
themselves  ad  libitum  in  wanton  disregard  of  the  future. 

Nearly  everj'body  seems  to  be  suffering  from  ophthalmia,  which 
is  aggravated  by  crouching  over  the  densely  smoking  tezek  ;  and  one 
miserable  looking  old  character  is  groaning  and  writhing  with  the 
pain  of  a  severe  stomach-ache.  By  loafing  laziljf  about  the  tent  all 
day,  and  chewing  these  flinty  dried  peaches,  this  hopeful  old  joker 
has  well-nigh  brought  himself  to  the  unhappy  condition  of  the 
Tosemite  valley  mule,  who  broke  into  the  tent  and  consumed  half 
a  bushel  of  dried  peaches  ;  when  the  hunters  returned  to  camp  and 
were  wondering  what  marauder  had  visited  their  tent  and  stolen 
the  peaches,  they  heard  a  loud  explosion  behind  the  tent ;  hastily 
going  out  they  discover  the  remnants  of  the  luckless  mule  scattered 
about  in  all  directions.  Of  course  I  am  appealed  to  for  a  remedy, 
and  I  am  not  sorry  to  have  at  last  come  across  an  applicant  for  my 
services  as  a  hakim,  for  whose  ailment  I  can  prescribe  with  some 
degree  of  confidence  ;  to  make  assurance  doubly  sure  I  give  the 
sufferer  a  double  dose,  and  in  the  morning  have  the  satisfaction  of 
finding  him  entirely  relieved  from  his  misery.     There  seems  to  be 


500 


FUOM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO    TEHERAN. 


110  order  or  sense'.of  good  manners  whatever  among  these  people  ; 
we  have  bread  and  half-stewed  peaches  for  supper,  and  while  they 
fire  cooking,' ill-mannered  youngsters  are  constantly  fishing  them 
fi-oni  the  kettles  with  weed-stalks,  meeting  with  no  sort  of  rejDroof 
from  their  elders  for  so  doing ;  when  bedtime  arrives,  everybody 
seizes  quilts,  peach-sacks,  etc.,  and  crawls  wherever  they  can  for 
tvarmth  and  comfort ;  three  men,  two  women,  and  several  children 


Midnight  Intruders. 


occupy  the  same  compartment  as  myself,  and  gaunt  dogs  are  nosing 
hungrily  about  among  us. 

About  midnight  there  is  a  general  hallooballoo  among  the  dogs, 
and  the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs  is  heard  outside  the  tent ;  the  occu- 
pants of  the  tent,  including  myself,  spring  up,  wondering  what  the 
disturbance  is  all  about.  A  group  of  horsemen  are  visible  in  the 
bright  moonlight  outside,  and  one  of  them  has  dismounted,  and 


TABREEZ   TO   TEHERAN;  501 

under  the  guidance  of  a  shepherd,  is  about  entering  the  tent ;  see- 
ing me  spring  up,  and  being  afraid  lest  perchance  I  might  misin- 
terpret their  intentions  and  act  accordingly,  he  sings  out  in  a  sooth-. 
ing  voice,  "  Kardash,  Hamsherri  ;  Kardadi,  Kardanh  I  "  thus  assuring 
me  of  their  peaceful  intentions.  These  midnight  visitors  tui-n  out 
to  be  a  party  of  Persian  travellers  from  Miaua,  from  which  it  would 
appear  they  have  less  fear  of  the  Koords  here  th.m  in  Koordistan 
near  the  frontier;  having,  somehow,  found  out  my  whereabouts, 
they  have  come  to  try  and  persuade  me  to  leave  the  camp  and  join, 
their  company  to  Zenjan.  Although  my  own  unfavorable  impres-. 
sions  of  my  entertainers  are  seconded  by  the  visitors'  reiterated 
assurances  that  these  Koords  are  bad  people,  I  decline  to  accom- 
pany them,  knowing  the  folly  of  attempting  to  bicycle  over  these 
roads  by  moonlight  in  the  company  of  horsemen  who  would  be 
continually  worrying  me  to  ride,  no  matter  what  the  condition  of 
the  road  ;  after  remaining  in  camp  half  an  hour  they  take  their 
departure.  "i 

In  the  morning  I  discover  that  my  mussulman  hat-band  ha^ 
mysteriously  disappeared,  and  when  preparing  to  depart,  a  mis^ 
cellaueous  collection  of  females  gather  about  me,  seize  the  bicycle, 
and  with  much  boisterous  hilarity  refuse  to  let  me  depart  uutil  I 
have  given  each  one  of  them  some  money. ;  their  behavior  is  on  the 
whole  so  outrageous,  that  I  ajjpeal  to  my  patient  of  yesterday  even- 
ing, in  whose  bosom  I  fancy  I  may  perchance  have  kindled  a  spark 
of  gratitude  ;  but  the  old  reprobate  no  longer  has  the  stomach-ache, 
and  he  regards  my  unavailing  efforts  to  break  away  from  my  hoi- 
denish  tormentors  with  supreme  indifference,  as  though  there  were 
nothing  extraordinary  in  their  conduct.  The  demeanor  of  these 
wild-eyed  Koordish  females  on  this  occasion  fully  convinces  me 
that  the  stories  concerning  their  barbarous  conduct  toward  trav- 
ellers captured  on  the  road  is  not  an  exaggeration,  for  while  pre- 
venting my  departure  they  seem  to  take  a  rude,  boisterous  delight 
in  worrying  me  on  all  sides,  like  a  gang  of  puppies  barking  and 
harassing  anything  they  fanc}'  powerless  to  do  them  harm.  After 
I  have  finally  bribed  my  freedom  from  the  women,  the  men  seize 
me  and  attempt  to  further  detain  me  until  they  can  send  for  their 
Sheikh  to  come  from  another  camp  miles  away,  to  see  me  ride. 
After  waiting  a  I'easonable  time,  out  of  respect  for  their  having  ac- 
commodated me  with  quarters  for  the  night,  and  no  signs  of  the 
Sheikh  appearing,  I  determine  to  submit  to  their  impudence  no 


503  FEOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

longer ;  they  gather  around  me  as  before,  but  presenting  my  re- 
volver and  assuming  an  angry  expression,  I  threaten  instant  de- 
struction to  the  next  one  laying  hands  on  either  myself  or  the  bi- 
cycle ;  they  then  give  way  with  lowering  brows  and  suUen  growls 
of  displeasure.  My  rough  treatment  on  this  occasion  compared 
with  my  former  visit  to  a  Koordish  camp,  proves  that  there  is  as 
much  difference  between  the  several  tribes  of  nomad  Koords,  as 
between  their  sedentary  relatives  of  Dele  Baba  and  Malosman  re- 
spectively ;  for  their  general  reputation,  it  were  better  that  I  had 
spent  the  night  in  Sercham. 

A  few  miles  from  the  camp,  I  am  overtaken  by  four  horsemen 
followed  by  several  dogs  and  a  pig ;  it  proves  to  be  the  tardy  Sheikh 
and  his  retainers,  who  have  galloped  several  miles  to  catch  me  up  ; 
the  Sheikh  is  a  pleasant,  intelligent  fellow  of  thirty  or  thereabouts, 
and  astonishes  me  by  addressing  me  as  *'  Monsieur  ;  "  they  canter 
alongside  for  a  mUeor  so,  highly  delighted,  when  the  Sheikh  cheer- 
ily sings  out  "Adieu,  monsieur  ! "  and  they  wheel  about  and  return  ; 
had  their  Sheikh  been  in  the  camp  I  stayed  at,  my  treatment  would 
undoubtedly  have  been  dififerent.  I  am  at  the  time  rather  puzzled 
to  account  for  so  strange  a  sight  as  a  pig  galloping  briskly  behind 
the  horses,  taking  no  notice  of ,  the  dogs  which  continually  gambol 
about  him  ;  but  I  afterward  discover  that  a  pet  pig,  trained  to 
follow  horses,  is  not  an  unusual  thing  among  the  Persians  and  Per- 
sian Koords  ;  they  are  thin,  wiry  animals  of  a  sandy  color,  and 
quite  capable  of  following  a  horse  for  hours  ;  they  live  in  the  stable 
with  their  equine  companions,  finding  congenial  occupation  iu 
rooting  around  for  stray  grains  of  barley  ;  the  horses  and  pig  are 
said  to  become  very  much  attached  to  each  other  ;  when  on  the 
road  the  pig  is  wont  to  signify  its  disapproval  of  a  too  rapid  pace, 
by  appealing  squeaks  and  grunts,  whereupon  the  horse  responsively 
slacks  its  speed  to  a  more  accommodating  speed  for  its  porcine 
companion.  The  road  now  winds  tortuously  along  the  base  of 
some  low  gravel  hills,  and  the  wheeling  perceptibly  improves  ;  be- 
yond Nikbey  it  strikes  across  the  hilly  country,  and  more  trundling 
becomes  necessary.  At  Nikbey  I  manage  to  leave  the  inhabitants 
in  a  profound  puzzle  by  replying  that  I  am  not  a  Perenghi,  but  an 
Englishman  ;  this  seems  to  mystify  them  not  a  little,  and  they  com- 
mence inquiring  among  themselves  for  an  explanation  of  the  diflfer- 
ence ;  they  are  probably  inquiring  yet. 

Fifty-eight  miles  are  covered  from  the  Koordish  camp,  and  at 


TABREEZ  TO   TEHEEAW.  503 

•three  o'clock  the  blue-tiled  domes  of  the  Zendjan  mosques  appear 
in  sight ;  these  blue-tiled  domes  are  more  characteristic  of  Per- 
sian mosques,  which  are  usually  built  of  bricks,  and  have  no  lofty 
tapering  minarets  as  in  Turkey ;  the  summons  to  prayers  are  called 
from  the  top  of  a  wall  or  roof.  When  approaching  the  city  gate, 
a  half-crazy  man  becomes  wildly  excited  at  the  spectacle  of  a  man 
on  a  wheel,  and,  rushing  up,  seizes  hold  of  the  handle ;  as  I  spring 
fi'om  the  saddle  he  rapidly  takes  to  his  heels  ;  finding  that  I  am 
not  pursuing  him,  he  plucks  up  courage,  and  timidly  approaching, 
begs  me  to  let  him  see  me  ride  again.  Zendjan  is  celebrated  for 
the  manufacture  of  copper  vessels,  and  the  rat-a-tat-tat  of  the 
workmen  beating  them  out  in  the  copper-smiths'  quarters  is  heard 
fully  a  mile  outside  the  gate ;  the  hammering  is  sometimes  deafening 
whUe  trundling  through  these  quarters,  and  my  progress  through  it 
is  indicated  by  what  might  perhaps  be  termed  a  sympathetic  wave 
of  silence  following  me  along,  the  din  ceasing  at  my  approach  and 
commencing  again  with  renewed  vigor  after  I  have  passed. 

Mr.  F ,  a  Levantine  gentleman  in  charge  of  the  station  here, 

fairly  outdoes  himself  in  the  practical  interpretation  of  genuine  old- 
fashioned  hospitality,  which  brooks  no  sort  of  interference  with  the 
comfort  of  his  guest ;  understanding  the  perpetual  worry  a  j)erson 
travelling  in  so  extraordinary  a  manner  must  be  subject  to  among 
an  excessively  inquisitive  people  like  the  Persians,  he  kindly  takes 
upon  himself  the  duty  of  protecting  me  from  anything  of  the  kind 
during  the  day  I  remain  over  as  his  guest,  and  so  manages  to  secure 
me  much  appreciated  rest  and  quiet.  The  Governor  of  the  city 
sends  an  officer  around  saying  that  himself  and  several  prominent 
dignitaries  would  like  very  ftiuch  to  see  the  bicycle.    "Very  good," 

replies   Mi-.  P ,  "  the   bicycle   is  here,  and  Mr.    Stevens   will 

doubtless  be  pleased  to  receive  His  Excellency  and  the  leading 
officials  of  Zendjan  any  time  it  suits  their  convenience  to  call,  and 
will  probably  have  no  objections  to  showing  them  the  bicycle."  It 
is,  perhaps,  needless  to  exjslain  that  the  Governor  doesn't  turn 
up ;  I,  however,  have  an  interesting  visitor  in  the  person  of  the 
Sheikh-ul-Islam  (head  of  religious  affairs  in  Zendjan),  a  venerable- 
looking  old  party  in  flowing  gown  and  monster  turban,  whose  hands 
and  flowing  beard  are  d^'ed  to  a  ruddy  yellow  with  henna.  The 
Sheikli-ul-Islam  is  considered  the  holiest  personage  in  Zendjan, 
and  his  apiDearance  and  demeanor  does  not  in  the  least  belie  his-' 
reputation ;  whatever  may  be  his  private  opinion  of  himself,,  he 


504  FROM    SAN.  FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

makes  far  less  display  of  sanctimoniousness  than  many  of  the  com- 
mon seyuds,  ■who  usually  gather  their  garments  about  them  when- 
ever they  pass  a  Ferenghi  in  the  bazaar,  for  fear  their  clothing 
should  become  defiled  by  brushing  against  him.  The  Sheikh-ul- 
Islam  fulfils  one's  idea  of  a  gentle-bred,  worthy-minded  old  patri- 
arch ;  he  examines  the  bicycle  and  listens  to  the  account  of  my 
journey  with  much  curiosity  and  interest,  and  bestows  a  flattering 
mead  of  praise  on  the  wonderful  ingenuity  of  the  Ferenghis  as  ex- 
emplified in  my  wheel. 

From  Zendjan  eastward  the  road  gradually  improves,  and  after 
a  dozen  miles  develops  into  the  finest  wheeling  yet  encountered  in 
Asia ;  the  country  is  a  gravelly  plain  between  a  mountain  chain  on 
the  left  and  a  range  of  lesser  hills  to  the  right.  Near  noon  I  pass 
through  Sultaneah,  formerly  a  favorite  country  resort  of  the  Per- 
gian  monarchs  ;  on  the  broad,  grassy  plain,  during  the  autumn, 
the  Shah  was  wont  to  find  amusement  in  manoeuvring  his  cavalry 
regiments,  and  for  several  months  an  encampment  near  Sultaneah 
became  the  head-quarters  of  that  arm  of  the  service.  The  Shah's 
palace  and  the  blue  dome  of  a  large  mosque,  now  rapidly  crumb- 
ling to  decay,  are  visible  many  miles  before  reaching  the  village. 

The  presence  of  the  Shah  and  his  court  doesn't  seem  to  have 
exerted  much  of  a  refining  or  civilizing  influence  on  the  common 
villagers  ;  otherwise  they  have  retrograded  sadly  toward  barbarism 
again  since  Sultaneah  has  ceased  to  be  a  favorite  resort.  Thej'  ap- 
pear to  regard  the  spectacle  of  a  lone  Ferenghi  meandering  through 
their  wretched  village  on  a  wheel,  as  an  opportunity  of  doing  some- 
thing aggressive  for  the  cause  of  Islam  not  to  be  overlooked  ;  I  am 
followed  by  a  hooting  mob  of  bare-leg^d  wretches,  who  forthwith 
proceed  to  make  things  lively  and  interesting,  by  pelting  me  with 
stones  and  clods  of  dirt.  One  of  these  wantonly  aimed  missiles 
catches  me  square  between  the  shoulders,  with  a  force  that,  had  it  ■ 
struck  me  fairly  on  the  back  of  the  neck,  would  in  all  probabiHty 
have  knocked  me  clean  out  of  the  saddle  ;  unfortunately,  several 
irrigating  ditches  crossing  the  road  immediately  ahead  prevent  es- 
cape by  a  spurt,  and  nothing  remains  but  to  dismount  and  proceed 
to  make  the  best  of  it. 

There  are  only  about  fifty  of  them  actively  interested,  and  part 
of  these  being  mere  boys,  they  are  anything  but  a  formidable  crowd 
of  belligerents  if  one  could  only  get  in  among  them  with  a  stuffed 
club  ;  they  seem  but  little  more  than  human  vermin  in  their  rags 


TA15UEEZ   TO    TEHERAN. 


505 


and  nakedness,  and  like  vermin,  tlie  greatest  difficulty  Is  to  get 
liold  of  them.  Saeiug  me  dismount,  they  immediately  take  to 
their  heels,  only  to  turn  and  commence  throwing  stones  again  at 
finding  themselves  unpursued  ;  while  I  am  retreating  and  actively 
dodging  the  showers  of  missiles,  they  gradually  venture  closer  and 
closer,  until  things  becoming  too  warm  and  dangerous,  I  drop  the 
bicycle,  and  make  a  feint  toward  them  ;  they  then  take  to  their 
heels,  to  retm-n  to  the  attack  again  as  before,  when  I  again  corn- 


Firing  over  their  Heads. 


mence  retreating.  Finally  I  try  the  experiment  of  a  shot  in  the  air, 
by  way  of  notifying  them  of  my  ability  to  do  them  serious  injury  ; 
this  has  the  effect  of  keeping  them  at  a  more  respectful  distance, 
but  they  seem  to  understand  that  I  amnot  intending  serious  shoot- 
ing, and  the  more  expert  throwers  manage  to  annoy  me  consider- 
ably until  ridable  ground  is  reached  ;  seeing  me  mount,  tliey  all 
come  racing  pell-mell  after  me,  hurling  stones,  and  howling  insult- 
ing epithets  after  me  as  a  Perenghi,  but  with  smooth  road  ahead  I 
am,  of  course,  quickly  beyond  their  reach. 


506  FROM   SAW   FKANCISCO   TO   TEIIEEAN. 

The  villages  east  of  Sultaneah  are  observed  to  be,  almost  with- 
out exception,  surrounded  by  a  high  mud  wall,  a  characteristic 
giving  them  the  appearance  of  fortifications  rather  than  mere  agri- 
cultural villages ;  the  original  object  of  this  was,  doubtless,  to 
secure  themselves  against  surprises  from  wandering  tribes  ;  and  as 
the  Persians  seldom  think  of  changing  anything,  the  custom  is  still 
maintained.  Bushes  are  now  occasionally  observed  near  the  road- 
side, from  every  twig  of  which  a  strip  of  rag  is  fluttering  in  the 
breeze  ;  it  is  an  ancient  custom  still  kept  up  among  the  Persian 
peasantry  when  approaching  any  place  they  regard  with  reverence, 
as  the  ruined  mosque  and  imperial  palace  at  Sultaneah,  to  tear  a 
strip  of  rag  from  their  clothing  and  fasten  it  to  some  roadside  bush ; 
this  is  supposed  to  bring  them  good  luck  in  their  undertakings, 
and  the  bushes  are  literally  covered  with  the  variegated  offerings 
of  the  superstitious  ryots ;  where  no  bushes  are  handy,  heaps  of 
small  stones  are  indicative  of  the  same  belief  ;  every  time  he  ap- 
proaches the  well-known  heap,  the  peasant  picks  up  a  pebble,  and 
adds  it  to  the  pile. 

Owing  to  a  late  start  and  a  prevailing  head-wind,  but  forty-six 
miles  are  covered  to-day,  when  about  sundown  I  seek  the  accommo- 
dation of  the  chapar-khana,  at  Heeya  ;  but,  providing  the  road  con- 
tinues good,  I  promise  myself  to  polish  off  the  sixty  miles  between 
here  and  Kasveen,  to-morrow.  The  chapar-khana  sleeping  apart- 
ments at  Heeya  contain  whitewashed  walls  and  reed  matting,  and 
presents  an  appearance  of  neatness  and  cleanliness  altogether 
foreign  to  these  institutions  previously  patronized  ;  here,  also,  first 
occurs  the  innovation  from  "  Hamsherri "  to  "  Sahib,"  when  ad- 
dressing me  in  a  respectful  manner  ;  it  will  be  Sahib,  from  this 
point  clear  to,  through  and  beyond  India ;  my  various  titles 
throtigh  the  different  countries  thus  far  traversed  have  been  ;  Mon- 
sieur, Herr,  Effendi,  Hamsherri,  and  now  Sahib ;  one  naturally 
wonders  what  new  surprises  are  in  store  ahead. 

A  bountiful  supper  of  scrambled  eggs  {toke-mi-morgue)  is  ob- 
tained here,  and  the  customaiy  shake-down  on  the  floor.  After 
getting  rid  of  the  crowd  I  seek  my  rude  couch,  and  am  soon  in  the 
land  of  unconsciousness  ;  an  hour  afterward  I  am  awakened  by  the 
busy  hum  of  conversation  ;  and,  behold,  in  the  dim  light  of  a  prim- 
itive lamp,  I  become  conscious  of  several  pairs  of  eyes  immediately 
above  me,  peering  with  scrutinizing  inquisitiveness  into  my  face  ; 
others  are  examining  the  bicycle  standing  against  the  wall  at  my 


TABKEEZ  TO  TEHERAN. 


507 


liead.  Eising  up,  I  find  tlie  chapar-kliana  crowded  ■with  caravan 
teamsters,  who,  going  past  with  a  large  camel  caravan  from  the 
Caspian  seaport  of  Eesht,  have  heard  of  the  bicycle,  and  come 
flocking  to  my  room  ;  I  can  hear  the  unmelodious  clanging  of  the 
big  sheet-iron  bells  as  their  long  string  of  camels  file  slowly  past 
the  building. 

Daj'light  finds  me  again  on  the  road,  determined  to  make  the 
best  of  early  morning,  ere  the  stiff  easterly  wind,  which  seems  in- 


Passing  a  Camel  Caravan. 


clined  to  prevail  of  late,  commences  blowing  great  gnins  against 
me.  A  short  distance  out,  I  meet  a  string  of  some  three  hundred 
laden  camels  that  have  not  yet  halted  after  the  night's  march  ; 
scores  of  large  camel  caravans  have  been  encountered  since  leaving 
Erzeroum,  but  they  have  invariably  been  halting  for  the  day  ;  these 
camels  regard  the  bicycle  with  a  timid  reserve,  merely  swerving  a 
step  or  two  off  their  course  as  I  wheel  past ;  they  all  seem  about 
equally  startled,  so  that  my  progress  down  the  ranks  simply  causes 
a  sort  of  a  gentle  ripple  along  the  line,  as  though  each  successive 


508  FROM   SAW   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

camel  were  playing  a  game  of  foUow-myleader.  The  road  this 
morning  is  nearly  perfect  for  wheeling,  consisting  of  well-trodden 
camel-paths  over  a  hard  gravelled  surface  that  of  itself  naturally 
makes  excellent  surface  for  cycling  ;  there  is  no  wind,  and  twenty- 
five  miles  are  duly  registered  by  the  cyclometer  when  I  halt  to  eat 
the  breakfast  of  bread  and  a  portion  of  yesterday  evening's  scram- 
bled eggs  which  I  have  brought  along. 

On  past  Seyudoon  and  approaching  Easveen,  the  plain  widens 
to  a  considerable  extent  and  becomes  perfectly  level ;  apjparent 
distances  become  deceptive,  and  objects  at  a  distance  assume  weird, 
fantastic  shapes  ;  beautiful  mirages  hold  out  their  allurements  from 
all  directions  ;  the  sombre  walls  of  villages  present  the  appearance 
of  battlemented  fortresses  rising  up  from  the  mirror-like  sui-face 
of  silvery  lakes,  and  orchards  and  groves  seem  shadowy,  undefin- 
able  objects  floating  motionless  above  the  earth.  The  telegraph 
poles  traversing  the  plain  in  a  long,  straight  line  until  lost  to  view 
in  the  hazy  distance,  appear  to  be  suspended  in  mid-air ;  camels, 
horses,  and  all  moving  objects  more  than  a  mile  away,  present  the 
strange  optical  illusion  of  animals  walking  through  the  air  many 
feet  above  the  surface  of  the  earth.  Long  rows  of  kanaat  mounds 
traverse  the  plain  in  every  direction,  leading  from  the  numerous 
villages  to  distant  mountain  chains.  Descending  one  of  the  slop- 
ing cavernous  entrances  before  mentioned,  for  a  drink,  I  am  rather 
surprised  at  observing  numerous  fishes  disporting  themselves  in 
the  water,  which,  on  the  comparatively  level  jjlain,  flows  but  slowly; 
perhaps  they  are  an  eyeless  variety  similar  to  those  found  in  the 
Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky ;  still  they  get  a  glimmering  light 
from  the  numerous  perpendicular  shafts.  Flocks  of  wild  pigeons 
also  frequent  these  underground  water-courses,  and  the  peasantry 
sometimes  capture  them  by  the  hundred  with  nets  placed  over  the 
shafts  ;  the  kanaats  are  not  bricked  archways,  but  merely  tunnels 
burrowed  through  the  ground. 

Three  miles  of  loose  sand  and  stones  have  to  be  trundled 
through  before  reaching  Kasvcen  ;  nevertheless  my  promised  sixty 
miles  are  overcome,  and  I  enter  the  city  gate  at  2  p.m.  A  trundle 
through  several  narrow,  crooked  streets  brings  me  to  an  inner 
gateway  emerging  upon  a  broad,  smooth  avenue  ;  a  short  ride  down 
this  brings  me  to  a  large  enclosure  containing  the  custom-house 
offices  and  a  fine  brick  caravanserai.  Yet  another  prince  appears 
here  in  the  person  of  a  custom-house  official  ;  I  readily  "rant  the 


TABREEZ   TO   TEHERAN. 


509 


requested  privilege  of  seeing  me  ride,  but  the  title  of  a  Persian 
priuce  is  no  longer  associated  in  my  mind  with  greatness  and  im- 
portance ;  princes  in  Persia  are  as  plentiful  as  counts  in  Italy  or 
barons  in  Germany,  yet  it  rather  shocks  one's  dreams  of  the  splen- 


Persian  "  Lutis,"  or  Buffoons. 


dor  of  Oriental  royalty  to  find  princes  manipulating  the  keys  of  a 
one  wire  telegraph  control  station  at  a  salai-y  of  about  forty  dol- 
lars a  month  (25  tomans),  or  attending  to  the  prosy  duties  of  a 
small  custom-house. 


510  FROM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

Kasveen  is  important  as  being  the  half -way  station  between  Te- 
heran and  tlie  Caspian  port  of  Kesht,  and  on  the  highway  of  travel 
and  commerce  between  Northern  Persia  and  Europe  ;  added  im- 
portance is  likewise  derived  from  its  being  the  terminus  of  a  broad 
level  road  from  the  capital,  and  where  travellers  and  the  mail  from 
Teheran  have  to  be  transferred  from  wheeled  vehicles  to  the  backs 
of  horses  for  the  passage  over  the  rugged  passes  of  the  Elburz 
mountains  leading  to  the  Caspian  slope,  or  vice  versa  when  going 
the  other  way.  Locking  the  bicycle  up  in  a  room  of  the  caravan- 
serai, I  take  a  strolling  peep  at  the  nearest  streets  ;  a  couple  of 
lutis  or  professional  buffoons,  seeing  me  strolling  leisurely  about, 
come  hurrying  up  ;  one  is  leading  a  baboon  by  a  string  around  the 
neck,  and  the  other  is  carrying  a  gourd  drum.  Beaching  me,  the 
man  with  the  baboon  commences  making  the  most  ludicrous  grim- 
aces and  causes  the  baboon  to  caper  wildly  about  by  jerking  the 
string,  while  the  dnimmer  proceeds  to  belabor  the  head  of  his 
drum,  apparently  with  the  single  object  of  extracting  as  much 
noise  from  it  as  possible.  Putting  my  fingers  to  my  ears  I  turn 
away  ;  ten  minutes  afterward  I  observe  another  similar  combina- 
tion making  a  bee-line  for  my  person  ;  waving  them  off  I  continue 
on  down  the  street ;  soon  afterward  yet  a  third  party  attempts  to 
secure  me  for  an  audience.  It  is  the  custom  for  these  strolling 
buffoons  to  thus  present  themselves  before  persons  on  the  street, 
and  to  visit  houses  whenever  there  is  occasion  for  rejoicing,  as  at  a 
wedding,  or  the  birth  of  a  son  ;  the  luds  are  to  the  Persians  what 
Italian  organ-grinders  are  among  ourselves  ;  I  fancy  people  give 
them  money  chiefly  to  get  rid  of  their  noise  and  annoyance,  as  we 
do  to  save  ourselves  from  the  soul-harrowing  tones  of  a  wheezy 
crank  organ  beneath  the  window. 

Among  the  novel  conveyances  observed  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
caravanserai  is  the  takhtrowan,  a  large  sedan  chair  provided  with 
shafts  at  either  end,  and  carried  between  two  mules  or  horses ; 
another  is  the  before-mentioned  kajaveh,  an  ai-rangement  not  un- 
like a  pair  of  canvas- covered  dog  kennels  strapped  across  the  back 
of  an  animal ;  these  latter  contrivances  are  chiefly  used  for  carry- 
ing women  and  children. 

After  riding  around  the  courtyard  several  different  times  for 
crowds  continually  coming,  I  finally  conclude  that  there  must  be  a 
limit  to  this  sort  of  thing  anyhow,  and  refuse  to  ride  again  ;  the 
new-comers  linger  around,  however,  until  evening,  in  the  hopes  that 


TABREEZ  TO  TEIIEEAN.  511 

an  opportunity-  of  seeing  me  ride  may  pi-esent  itself.  A  number 
of  them  then  contribute  a  handful  of  coppers,  which  they  give  to 
the  proprietor  of  a  tributary  tchai-khan  to  offer  me  as  an  induce- 
ment to  ride  again.  The  wUy  Persians  know  full  well  that  while 
a  Ferenghi  would  scorn  to  accept  their  handful  of  coppers,  he 
would  probably  be  sufficiently  amused  at  the  circumstance  to  re- 
ward their  persistence  by  riding  for  nothing  ;  telling  the  grinning 
khan-jee  to  pocket  the  coppers,  I  favor  them  with  "positively  the 
last  entertainment  this  evening."  An  hour  later  the  khan-jee  meets 
me  going  toward  the  bazaar  in  search  of  something  for  supper  ; 
inquiring  the  object  of  my  search,  he  takes  me  back  to  his  tchai- 
khan,  points  significantly  to  an  iron  kettle  simmering  on  a  small 
charcoal  fire,  and  bids  me  be  seated  ;  after  waiting  on  a  customer 
or  two,  and  supplying  me  with  tea,  he  quietly  beckons  me  to  the 
fire,  removes  the  cover  and  reveals  a  savory  dish  of  stewed  chicken 
and  onions  ;  this  he  generously  shares  with  me  a  few  minutes 
later,  refusing  to  accept  any  paj'ment.  As  there  are  exceptions  to 
every  rule,  so  it  seems  there  are  individuals,  even  among  the  Persian 
commercial  classes,  capable  of  generous  and  worthy  impulses  ;  true 
the  khan-jee  obtained  more  than  the  value  of  the  supper  in  the 
handful  of  coppers — ^but  gratitude  is  generally  understood  to  be 
an  unknown  commodity  among  the  subjects  of  the  Shah. 

Soon  the  obstreperous  cries  of  "Ali  Akbar,  la-al-lah-il-allah " 
from  the  throats  of  numbers  of  the  faithful  perched  upon  the  car- 
avanserai steps,  stable-roof,  and  other  conspicuous  soul-inspiring 
places,  announces  the  approach  of  bedtime.  My  room  is  actually 
found  to  contain  a  towel  and  an  old  tooth-brush  ;  the  towel  has 
evidently  not  been  laundried  for  some  time  and  a  public  tooth- 
brush is  hardly  a  joy  inspiring  object  to  contemplate  ;  nevertheless 
they  are  evidences  that  the  proprietor  of  the  caravanserai  is  pos- 
sessed of  vague,  shadowy  ideas  of  a  Ferenghi's  requirements.  Af- 
ter a  person  has  dried  his  face  with  the  slanting  sunbeams  of  early 
morning,  or  with  his  pocket-handkerchief  for  weeks,  the  bare  pos- 
sibility of  soap,  towels,  etc.,  awakens  agreeable  reflections  of  com- 
ing comforts. 

At  seven  o'clock  on  the  following  morning  I  puU  out  toward 
Teheran,  now  but  six  c/iapar-stations  distant.  Running  parallel 
with  the  road  is  the  Elburz  range  of  mountains,  a  lofty  chain,  sep- 
arating the  elevated  plateau  of  Central  Persia  from  the  moist  and 
wooded  slopes  of  the  Caspian  Sea ;  south  of  this  great  dividing 


512  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

ridge  the  country  is  an  arid  and  barren  waste,  a  desert,  in  fact, 
save  where  irrigation  redeems  here  and  there  a  circumscribed  area, 
and  the  mountain  slopes  are  gray  and  rocky.  Crossing  over  to  the 
northern  side  of  the  divide,  one  immediately  finds  himself  in  a 
moist  clima,te,  and  a  country  green  almost  as  the  British  Isles, 
with  dense  box-wood  forests  covering  the  slopes  of  the  mountains 
and  hiding  the  foot-hills  beneath  an  impenetrable  mantle  of  green. 
The  Elburz  Mountains  are  a  portion  of  the  great  water-shed  of 
Central  Asia,  extending  from  the  Himalayas  up  through  Afghanis- 
tan and  Persia  into  the  Caucasus,  and  they  perform  very  much  the 
same  office  for  the  Caspian  slope  of  Persia,  as  the  Sierra  Nevadas 
do  for  the  Pacific  slope  of  California,  inasmuch  as  they  cause  the 
moistiu'e-laden  clouds  rolling  in  from  the  sea  to  empty  their  bur- 
thens on  the  seaward  slopes  instead  of  penetrating  farther  into  the 
interior. 

The  road  continues  fair  wheeling,  but  nothing  compared  with 
the  road  between  Zendjan  and  Easveen  ;  it  is  more  of  an  artificial 
highway ;  the  Persian  government  has  been  tinkering  with  it,  im- 
proving it  considerably  in  some  respects,  but  leaving  it  somewhat 
lumpy  and  unfinished  generally,  and  in  places  it  is  unridable  from 
sand  and  loose  material  on  the  surface  ;  it  has  the  appreciable  merit 
of  levelness,  however,  and,  for  Persia,  is  a  very  creditable  highway 
indeed.  At  four  farsakhs  from  Kasveen  I  reach  the  chapar-khana 
of  Cawanda,  where  a  breakfast  is  obtained  of  eggs  and  tea  ;  these 
two  things  are  among  the  most  readily  obtained  refreshments  in 
Persia.  The  countrj'this  morning  is  monotonous  and  uninteresting, 
being  for  the  most  part  a  stony,  level  plain,  sparsely  covered  with 
gray  camel-thorn  shrubs.  Occasionally  one  sees  in  the  distance  a 
camp  of  Eliauts,  one  of  the  wandering  tribes  of  Persia ;  their  tents 
are  smaller  and  of  an  entirely  different  shape  from  the  Koordish 
tents,  partaking  more  of  the  nature  of  square-built  movable  huts 
than  tents ;  these  camps  are  too  far  off  my  road  to  justify  paying 
them  a  visit,  especially  as  I  shall  probably  have  abundant  oppor- 
tunities before  leaving  the  Shah's  dominions  ;  but  I  intercept  a 
straggling  party  of  them  crossing  the  road.  They  have  a  more 
docile  look  about  them  than  the  Koords,  have  more  the  general 
appearance  of  gypsies,  and  they  dress  but  little  different  from  the 
fyots  of  surrounding  villages. 

At  Kishlock,  where  I  obtain  a  dinner  of  bread  and  grapes,  I  find 
the  cyclometre  has  registered  a  gain  of  thirty-two  miles  from  Kas- 


TABREEZ   TO   TEHERAN.  513 

veen  ;  it  has  scarcely  been  an  easy  thirty-two  miles,  for  1  am  again 
confronted  bj'  a  discouraging  head  breeze. 

Keaching  the  Shah  Abbas  caravanserai  of  Yeng-Imam  (all  first- 
class  cai-avanserais  are  called  Shah  Abbas  caravanserais,  in  defer- 
ence to  so  many  having  been  built  throughout  Persia  by  that 
monarch)  about  five  o'clock,  I  conclude  to  remain  here  over  night, 
having  wheeled  fifty-three  miles.  Yeng-Imam  is  a  splendid  large 
brick  serai,  the  finest  I  have  yet  seen  in  Persia ;  many  travellers 
are  putting  up  here,  and  the  place  presents  quite  a  lively  appear- 
ance. In  the  centre  of  the  coiirt-yard  is  a  large  covered  spring  ; 
around  this  is  a  garden  of  rose-bushes,  pomegranate  trees,  and 
flowers  ;  surrounding  the  garden  is  a  brick  walk,  and  forming  yet 
a  larger  square  is  the  caravanserai  building  itself,  consisting  of  a 
one-storied  brick  edifice,  partitioned  off  into  small  rooms.  The 
building  is  only  one  room  deep,  and  each  room  opens  upon  a  sort 
of  covered  porch  containing  a  fireplace  where  a  fire  can  be  made 
and  provisions  cooked.  Attached  to  the  caravanserai,  usually  be- 
neath the  massive  and  roomy  arched  gateway,  is  a  tchai-khan  and  a 
small  store  where  bread,  eggs,  butter,  fruit,  charcoal,  etc.,  are  to  be 
obtaLaed.  The  traveller  hires  a  room  which  is  destitute  of  all  fur- 
niture ;  provides  his  own  bedding  and  cooking  utensils,  purchases 
f)rovisions  and  a  sufficiency  of  charcoal,  and  pi-oceeds  to  make  him- 
self comfortable.  On  a  pinch  one  can  usually  borrow  a  frying-pan 
or  kettle  of  some  kind,  and  in  such  first-class  caravanserais  as  Yeng- 
Imam  there  is  sometimes  one  furnished  room,  carpeted  and  pro- 
vided with  bedding,  reserved  for  the  accommodation  of  travellers 
of  importance. 

After  the  customary  programme  of  riding  to  allay  the  curiosity 
and  excitement  of  the  people,  I  obtain  bread,  fruit,  eggs,  butter  to 
cook  them  in,  and  charcoal  for  a  fire,  the  elements  of  a  very  good  sup- 
per for  a  hungry  traveller.  Borrowing  a  handleless  frying-pan,  I  am 
setting  about  preparing  my  own  supper,  when  a  respectable-looking 
Persian  steps  out  from  the  crowd  of  curious  on-lookers  and  volun- 
tarily takes  this  rather  onerous  duty  out  of  my  hands.  Eeadily 
obtaining  my  consent,  he  quickly  kindles  a  fire,  and  scrambles  and 
fries  the  eggs.  While  my  volunteer  cook  is  thus  busily  engaged, 
a  company  of  distinguished  travellers  passing  along  the  road  halt 
at  the  tchai-khan  to  smoke  a  kalian  and  drink  tea.  The  caravan- 
serai proprietor  approaches  me,  and  winking  mysteriously,  inti- 
mates that  by  going  outside  and  riding  for  the  edification  of  the 
33 


514  FEOM   SAN   FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

new  arrivals  I  will  be  pretty  certain  to  get  a  present  of  a  keran 
(about  twenty  cents).  As  he  appears  anxious  to  have  me  accom- 
modate them,  I  accordingly  go  out  and  favor  them  with  a  few  turns 
on  a  level  piece  of  ground  outside.  After  they  have  departed  the 
proprietor  covertly  ofifers  me  a  half-keran  piece  in  a  manner  so  that 
everybody  can  observe  him  attempting  to  give  me  something  with- 
out seeing  the  amount.  The  wily  Persian  had  doubtless  solicited 
a  present  from  the  travellers  for  me,  obtained,  perhaps,  a  couple  of 
kerans,  and  watching  a  favorable  opportunity,  offers  me  the  half- 
keran  piece ;  the  wily  ways  of  these  people  are  several  degrees 
more  ingenious  even  than  the  dark  ways  and  vain  tricks  of  Bret 
Harte's  "  Heathen  Chinee." 

Occupying  one  of  the  rooms  are  two  young  noblemen  traveUing 
with  their  mother  to  visit  the  Governor  of  Zendjan ;  after  I  have 
eaten  my  supper,  they  invite  me  to  their  apartments  for  the  even- 
ing ;  theu'  mother  has  a  samovar  under  full  headway,  and  a  number 
of  hard  boUed  eggs.  Her  two  hopeful  sons  are  engaged  in  a  drink- 
ing bout  of  arrack  ;  they  are  already  wildly  hilarious  and  indulg- 
ing in  brotherly  embraces  and  doubtful  love-songs.  Their  fond 
mother  regards  them  with  approving  smiles  as  they  swallow  glass 
after  glass  of  the  raw  fiery  spirit,  and  become  gradually  more  in- 
toxicated and  hilarious.  Instead  of  checking  their  tippling,  as  a 
fond  and  prudent  Ferenghi  mother  would  have  done,  this  in- 
dulgent parent  encourages  them  rather  than  otherwise,  and  the  more 
deeply  intoxicated  and  hilariously  happy  the  sons  become,  the  hap- 
pier seems  the  mother.  About  nine  o'clock  they  fall  to  weeping 
tears  of  affection  for  each  other  and  for  myself,  and  degenerate  into 
such  maudlin  sentimentaUty  generally,  that  I  naturally  become  dis- 
gusted, accept  a  parting  glass  of  tea,  and  bid  them  good-evening. 

The  caravanserai-jee  assigns  me  the  furnished  chamber  above 
referred  to  ;  the  room  is  found  to  be  well  carpeted,  contains  a  mat- 
tress and  an  abundance  of  flaming  red  quilts,  and  on  a  small  table 
reposes  a  well-thumbed  copy  of  the  Koran  with  gilt  lettering  and 
illumined  pages  ;  for  these  really  comfortable  quarters  I  am  charged 
the  trifling  sum  of  one  keran. 

I  am  now  within  fifty  miles  of  Teheran,  my  destination  until 
spring-time  comes  around  again  and  enables  me  to  continue  on 
eastward  toward  the  Pacific  ;  the  wheeling  continues  fair,  and  in 
the  cool  of  early  morning  good  headway  is  made  for  several  miles  ; 
as  the  sun  peeps  over  the  summit  of  a  mountain  spur  jutting  south- 


TABREEZ   TO   TEIIEEAK.  515 

ward  a  short  distance  from  the  mam  Elburz  Eange,  a  wall  of  air 
comes  rushing  from  the  east  as  though  the  sun  were  making 
strenuous  exertions  to  usher  in  the  commencement  of  another  day 
with  a  triumphant  toot.  Multitudes  of  donkeys  are  encountered 
on  the  road,  the  omnipresent  carriers  of  the  Persian  peasantry,  tak- 
ing produce  to  the  Teheran  market ;  the  only  wheeled  vehicle  en- 
countered between  Kasveen  and  Teheran  is  a  heavy-wheeled,  cum- 
bersome mail  wagon,  rattling  briskly  along  behind  four  galloping 
horses  driven  abreast,  and  a  newly  imported  carriage  for  some 
notable  of  the  capital  being  dragged  by  hand,  a  distance  of  two 
hundred  miles  from  Eesht,  by  a  company  of  soldiers.  Pedalling 
laboriously  against  a  stiff  breeze  I  round  the  jutting  mountain  spur 
about  eleven  o'clock,  and  the  conical  snow-crowned  peak  of  Mount 
Demavend  looms  up  like  a  beacon-Ught  from  among  the  lesser 
heights  of  the  Elburz  Eange  about  seventy-five  miles  ahead.  De- 
mavend is  a  perfect  cone,  some  twenty  thousand  feet  in  height, 
and  is  reputed  to  be  the  highest  point  of  land  north  of  the  Him- 
alayas. 

From  the  projecting  mountain  spur  the  road  makes  a  bee-line 
across  the  intervening  plain  to  the  capital ;  a  large  willow-fringed 
irrigating  ditch  now  traverses  the  stony  plain  for  some  distance 
parallel  with  the  road,  supplying  the  caravanserai  of  Shahabad 
and  several  adjacent  villages  with  water.  Teheran  itself,  being 
situated  on  the  level  plain,  and  without  the  tiiU  minarets  that  ren- 
der Turkish  cities  conspicuovis  from  a  distance,  leaves  one  unde- 
cided as  to  its  precise  location  until  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
gate  ;  it  occupies  a  position  a  dozen  or  more  miles  south  of  the 
base  of  the  Elburz  Mountains,  and  is  flanked  on  the  east  by  another 
jutting  spur ;  to  the  southward  is  an  extensive  plain  sparsely  dotted 
with  villages,  and  the  walled  gardens  of  the  wealthier  Teheranis. 

At  one  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  September  30th,  the  sen- 
tinels at  the  Kasveen  gate  of  the  Shah's  capital  gaze  with  unutter- 
able astonishment  at  the  strange  spectacle  of  a  lone  Ferenghi  rid- 
ing toward  them  astride  an  airy  wheel  that  glints  and  glitters  in 
the  bright  Persian  sunbeams.  They  look  stiU  more  wonder- 
stricken,  and  half-inclined  to  think  me  some  supernatural  being, 
as,  without  dismounting,  I  ride  beneath  the  gaudily  colored  arch- 
way and  down  the  suburban  streets.  A  ride  of  a  mile  between 
dead  mud  walls  and  along  an  open  business  street,  and  I  find  myself 
surrounded  by  wondering  soldiers  and  citizens  in  the  great  central 


516 


FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 


top-maidan,  or  artillery  square,  and  shortly  afterward  am  endeavor- 
ing to  eradicate  some  of  the  dust  and  soil  of  travel,  in  a  room  of  a 
wretched  apology  for  an  hotel,  kept  by  a  Frenchman,  formerly  a 
pastry-cook  to  the  Shah.  My  cyclometre  has  registered  one  thou- 
sand five  hundred  and  seventy-six  miles  from  Ismidt ;  from  Liverpool 
to  Constantinople,  where  I  had  no  cyclometre,  may  be  roughly  esti- 
mated at  two  thousand  five  hundred,  making  a  total  from  Liverpool 
to  Teheran  of  four  thousand  and  seventy-six  miles.    In  the  evening 


Entering  the  Teheran  Gate. 


several  young  Englishmen  belonging  to  the  staff  of  the  Indo- 
European  Telegraph  Company  came  round,  and  re-echoing  my 
own  above-mentioned  sentiments  concerning  the  hotel,  generously 
invite  me  to  become  a  member  of  their  comfortable  bachelor  estab- 
lishment during  my  stay  in  Teheran.  "  How  far  do  you  reckon  it 
from  London  to  Teheran  by  your  telegraph  line  ?  "  I  inquire  of  them 
during  our  after-supper  conversation.  "  Somewhere  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  four  thousand  miles,"  is  the  reply.  "  What  does  your 
cyclometre  say  ?  " 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TEHERAN. 

There  is  sufficient  similarity  between  the  bazaar,  the  mosques, 
the  residences,  the  suburban  gardens,  etc.,  of  one  Persian  city, 
and  the  same  features  of  another,  to  justify  the  assertion  that  the 
description  of  one  is  a  description  of  them  all.  But  the  presence 
of  the  Shah  and  his  court ;  the  pomp  and  circumstance  of  Eastern 
royalty  ;  the  foreign  ambassadors ;  the  military  ;  the  improve- 
ments introduced  from  Europe  ;  the  royal  palaces  of  the  present 
sovereign ;  the  palaces  and  remiaiseences  of  former  kings — all 
these  things  combine  to  effectually  elevate  Teheran  above  the 
somewhat  dreary  sameness  of  provincial  cities. 

A  person  in  the  habit  of  taking  daily  strolls  here  and  there  about 
the  city  will  scarcely  fail  of  obtaining  a  glimpse  of  the  Shah,  inci- 
dentally, every  few  days.  In  this  respect  there  is  little  comparison 
to  be  made  between  him  and  the  Sultan  of  Turkey,  who  never 
emerges  from  the  seclusion  of  the  palace,  except  to  visit  the 
mosque,  or  on  extraordinaiy  occasions  ;  he  is  then  driven  through 
streets  between  compact  lines  of  soldiers,  so  that  a  glimpse  of  his 
imperial  person  is  only  to  be  obtained  by  taking  considerable 
trouble.  Since  the  Shah's  narrow  escape  from  assassination  at  the 
hands  of  the  Baabi  conspirators  in  1867,  he  has  exercised  more 
caution  than  formerly  about  his  personal  safety.  Previous  to 
that  affair,  it  was  customary  for  him  to  ride  on  horseback  well 
in  advance  of  his  body-guard ;  but  nowadays,  he  never  rides  in 
advance  any  farther  than  etiquette  requires  him  to,  which  is  about 
the  length  of  his  horse's  neck.  When  his  frequent  outings  take 
him  beyond  the  city  fortifications,  he  is  generally  provided  with 
both  saddle-horse  and  carriage,  thus  enabling  him  to  change  from 
one  to  the  other  at  wiU. 

The  Shah  is  evidently  not  indifferent  to  the  fulsome  flattery  of 
the  courtiers  and  sycpphants  about  him,  nor  insensible  of  the 
pomp  and  vanity  of  his  position  ;  nevertheless  he  is  not  without  a 


518  FEOM    SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEIIEKAK.      ' 

fair  sliare  of  common-sense.  Perhaps  the  worst  that  can  be  said 
of  him  is,  that  he  seems  content  to  prostitute  his  own  more  en- 
lightened and  progressive  -views  to  the  prejudices  of  a  bigoted  and 
fanatical  priesthood.  He  seems  to  have  a  generous  desire  to  see 
the  country  opened  up  to  the  civilizing  improvements  of  the  West, 
and  to  give  the  people  an  opportunity  of  emancipating  themselves 
from  their  present  deplorable  condition  ;  but  the  moUahs  set  their 
faces  firmly  against  all  reform,  and  the  Shah  evidently  lacks  the 
strength  of  -will  to  override  their  opposition.  It  was  owing  to  this 
criminal  weakness  on  his  part  that  Baron  Renter's  scheme  of  rail- 
ways and  commercial  regeneration  for  the  country  proved  a  failure. 

Persia  is  undoubtedly  the  worst  priest-ridden  country  in  the 
world  ;  the  mollahs  influence  everything  and  everybody,  from  the 
monarch  downward,  to  such  an  extent  that  no  progress  is  possible. 
Barring  outside  interference,  Persia  will  rfemain  in  its  present 
wretched  condition  until  the  advent  of  a  monarch  with  sufficient 
force  of  character  to  deliver  the  ^people  from  the  incubus  of  their 
present  power  and  influence  :  nothing  short  of  a  general  massacre, 
however,  will  be  likely  to  accomplish  complete  deliverance. 

Without  compromising  his  dignity  as  "Shah-in-shah,"  "The 
Asylum  of  the  Universe,"  etc.,  when  dealing  with  his  own  subjects, 
Nasr-e-deen  Shah  has  profited  by  the  experiences  of  his  European 
tour  to  the  extent  of  recognizing,  with  becoming  toleration,  the 
democratic  independence  of  Perenghis,  whose  deportment  betrays 
the  fact  that  they  are  not  dazed  by  the  contemplation  of  his  great- 
ness. The  other  evening  myself  and  a  fi-iend  encountered  the 
Shah  and  his  crowd  of  attendants  on  one  of  the  streets  leading  to 
the  winter  palace  ;  he  was  returning  to  the  palace  in  state  after  a 
visit  of  ceremony  to  some  dignitary.  First  came  a  squad  of  foot- 
runners  in  quaint  scarlet  coats,  knee-breeches,  white  stockings,  and 
low  shoes,  and  with  a  most  fantastic  head-dress,  not  unlike  a  pea- 
cock's tail  on  dress-parade;  each  runner  carried  a  sUver  staff;  they 
were  clearing  the  street  and  shouting  their  warning  for  everybody 
to  hide  their  faces.  Behind  them  came  a  portion  of  the  Shah's 
Khajar  body-guard,  well  mounted,  and  dressed  in  a  gray  uniform, 
braided  with  black  :  each  of  these  also  carries  a  silver  staff,  and 
besides  sword  and  dagger,  has  a  gun  slung  at  his  back  in  a  red 
baize  case.  Next  came  the  royal  carriage,  containing  the  Shah  : 
the  carriage  is  somewhat  like  a  sheriff's  coach  of  "  ye  olden  tyme," 
and  is  drawn  by  six  superb  grays  ;  mounted  on  the  off  horses  ai-e 


TEHERAK. 


519 


three  postilions  in  gorgeous  scarlet  liveries.  Immediately  behind 
the  Shah's  cai-riage  came  the  higher  dignitaries  on  horseback,  and 
lastly  a  confused  crowd  of  three  or  four  hundred  horsemen.  As 
the  royal  procession  approached,  the  Persians — one  and  all — either 
hid  themselves,  or  backed  themselves  up  against  the  wall,  and  re- 


The  Shah's  Foot-runners. 


mained  with  heads  bowed  half-way  to  the  ground  until  it  passed. 
Seeing  that  we  had  no  intention  of  striking  this  very  submissive 
and  servile  attitude,  first  the  scarlet  foot-runners,  and  then  the  ad- 
vance of  the  Khajar  guard,  addressed  themselves  to  us  personally, 
shouting  appealingly  as  though  very  anxious  about  it :  "  Sahib  ! 


520  FROM   SAN"  FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAK. 

Siiliib ! "  and  motioned  for  us  to  do  as  tlie  natives  were  doing. 
These  valiant  guardians  of  the  Shah's  bai-baric  gloriousness  cling 
tenaciously  to  the  belief  that  it  is  the  duty  of  everybody,  whether 
Ferenghi  or  native,  to  prostrate  themselves  in  this  manner  before 
him,  although  the  monai-ch  himself  has  long  ceased  to  expect  it, 
and  is  very  well  satisfied  if  the  Ferenghi  respectfully  doffs  Lis  hat 
as  he  goes  past. 

Much  of  the  nonsensical  glamour  and  superstitious  awe  that 
formerly-  surrounded  the  person  of  Oriental  potentates  has  been 
dissipated  of  late  years  by  the  moral  influence  of  European  resi- 
dents and  travellers.  But  a  few  years  ago,  it  was  certain  death  for 
any  luckless  native  who  failed  to  immediately  scuttle  off  somewhere 
out  of  sight,  or  to  turn  his  face  to  the  wall,  whenever  the  carriages 
of  the  royal  ladies  passed  by  ;  and  ■  Europeans  generally  turned 
down  a  side  street  to  avoid  trouble  when  they  heard  the  attending 
eunuchs  shouting  "  gitchin,  gitchin  ! "  (begone,  begone  !)  down  the 
street  But  things  may  be  done  with  impunity  now,  that  before 
the  Shah's  eye-opening  visit  to  Frangistan  would  have  been  pun- 
ished with  instant  death ;  and  although  the  eimuchs  shout  "  gitchin, 
gitchin  ! "  as  lustily  as  ever,  they  are  now  content  if  people  wiU.  only 
avert  their  faces  respectfully  as  the  carriages  drive  past 

An  eccentric  Austrian  gentleman  once  saw  fit  to  imitate  the 
natives  in  turning  their  faces  to  the  wall,  and  improved  upon  the 
time-honored  custom  to  the  extent  of  mating  salaams  from  the 
back  of  his  head.  This  singular  performance  pleased  the  ladies 
immensely,  and  they  reported  it  to  the  Shah.  Sending  for  the 
Austrian,  the  Shah  made  him  repeat  the  performance  in  his  pres- 
ence, and  was  so  highly  amused  that  he  dismissed  him  with  a  hand- 
some present 

Prominent  among  the  improvements  that  have  been  introduced 
in  Teheran  of  late,  may  be  mentioned  gas  and  the  electric  light. 
Were  one  to  make  this  statement  and  enter  into  no  further  expla- 
nations, the  impression  created  would  doubtless  be  illusive  ;  for 
although  the  fact  remains  that  these  things  are  in  existence  here, 
they  could  be  more  appropriately  placed  under  the  heading  of  toys 
for  the  gratification  of  the  Shah's  desire  to  gather  about  him  some 
of  the  novel  and  interesting  things  he  had  seen  in  Europe,  than 
improvements  made  with  any  idea  of  benefiting  the  condition  of 
the  city  as  a  whole.  Indeed,  one  might  say  without  exaggeration, 
that  nothing  new  or  beneficial  is  ever  introduced  into  Persia,  ex- 


TEHERAN.  521 

cept  for  the  personal  gratification  or  glorification  of  the  Shah  ; 
hence  it  is,  that,  while  a  few  Evu-opean  improvements  are  to  be 
seen  in  Teheran,  they  are  found  nowhere  else  in  Persia. 

Coal  of  an  inferior  quality  is  obtained  in  the  Elburz  Mountains, 
near  Kasveen,  and  brought  on  the  backs  of  camels  to  Teheran ; 
find  enough  gas  is  manufactui'ed  to  supply  two  rows  of  lamps  lead- 
ing from  the  top-maidan  to  the  palace  front,  two  rows  oil  the  east 
side  of  the  palace,  and  a  dozen  more  in  the  top-maidan  itself.  The 
gas  is  of  the  poorest  quality,  and  the  lamps  glimmer  faintly  through 
the  gloom  of  a  moonless  evening  until  half-past  nine,  giving  about 
as  much  light,  or  rather  making  darkness  about  as  visible  as  would 
the  same  number  of  tallow  candles ;  at  this  hour  they  are  extin- 
guished, and  any  Persian  found  outside  of  his  own  house  later  than 
this,  is  liable  to  be  arrested  and  fined. 

The  electric  light  improvements  consist  of  four  Hghts,  on  ordi- 
nary gas-lamp  posts,  in  the  top-maidan,  and  a  more  ornamental  and 
pretentious  afifair,  immediately  in  front  of  the  palace  ;  these  are 
only  used  on  special  occasions.  The  electric  lights  are  a  never- 
failing  source  of  wonder  and  mystification  to  the  common  people 
of  the  city  and  the  peasants  coming  in  from  the  country.  A  stroll 
into  the  maidan  any  evening  when  the  four  electric  lights  are  mak- 
ing the  gas-lamps  glimmer  feebler  than  ever,  reveals  a  small  crowd 
of  natives  assembled  about  each  post,  gazing  wonderingly  up  at 
the  globe,  endeavoring  to  penetrate  the  secret  of  its  brightness, 
and  commenting  freely  among  themselves  in  this  wise : 

"MashaUah!  Abdullah,"  says  one,  "where  does  all  the  light 
come  from  ?  They  put  no  candles  in,  no  naphtha,  no  anything  ; 
where  does  it  come  from  ?  " 

"  Mashallah ! "  rephes  Abdullah,  "  I  don't  know  ;  it  Ughts  up 
'  biff  ! '  all  of  a  sudden,  without  anybody  putting  matches  to  it,  or 
going  anywhere  near  it ;  nobody  knows  how  it  comes  about  except 
Sheitan  (Satan)  and  Sheitan's  children,  the  Ferenghis.'' 

"  Al-lah  !  it  is  wonderful !  "  echoes  another,  "and  our  Shah  is  a 
>vonderful  being  to  give  us  such  things  to  look  at — Allah  be  praised  ! " 

All  these  strange  innovations  and  incomprehensible  things  pro- 
duce a  deep  impression  on  the  unenlightened  minds  of  the  common 
Persians,  and  helps  to  deify  the  Shah  in  their  imagination ;  for 
although  they  know  these  things  come  from  Frangistan,  it  seems 
natural  for  them  to  sing  the  praises  of  the  Shah  in  connection  with 
them.    They  think  these  five  electric  lights  in  Teheran  among  the 


522  FROM  SAK  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAST. 

wonders  of  the  world  ;  the  glimmering  gas-lamps  and  the  electric 
lights  help  to  rivet  their  belief  that  their  capital  is  the  most  wonder- 
ful city  in  the  world,  and  their  Shah  the  greatest  monarch  extant. 
These  extreme  ideas  are,  of  course,  considerably  improved  upon 
when  we  leave  the  ranks  of  illiteracy  ;  but  the  Persians  capable  of 
forming  anything  like  an  intelligent  comparison  between  themselves 
and  a  European  nation,  are  confined  to  the  Shah  himself,  the  corps 
diplomatique,  and  a  few  prominent  personages  who  have  been  abroad. 

Always  on  the  lookout  for  something  to  please  the  Shah,  the 
news  of  my  arrival  in  Teheran  on  the  bicycle  no  sooner  reaches  the 
ear  of  the  court  officials  than  the  monarch  hears  of  it  himself.  On 
the  seventh  day  after  my  arrival  an  officer  of  the  palace  calls  on 
behalf  of  the  Shah,  and  requests  that  I  favor  them  all,  by  following 
the  soldiers  who  will  be  sent  to-morrow  morning,  at  eight  o'clock, 
Ferenghi  time,  to  conduct  me  to  the  palace,  where  it  is  appointed 
that  I  am  to  meet  the  "  Shah-in-shah  and  King  of  kings,  "  and  ride 
with  him,  on  the  bicycle,  to  his  summer  palace  at  Doshan  Tepe. 

"Yes,  I  shall,  of  course,  be  most  happy  to  accommodate  ;  and  to 
be  the  means  of  introducing  to  the  notice  of  His  Majesty,  the  won- 
derful iron  horse,  the  latest  wonder  from  Frangistan,"  I  reply  ; 
and  the  officer,  after  salaaming  with  more  than  French  politeness, 
takes  his  departure. 

Promptly  at  the  hour  appointed  the  soldiers  present  themselves ; 
and  after  waiting  a  few  minutes  for  the  horses  of  two  young  English- 
men who  desire  to  accompany  us  part  way,  I  mount  the  ever-ready 
bicycle,  and  together  we  follow  my  escort  along  several  fairly  ridable 
streets  to  the  office  of  the  foreign  minister.  The  soldiers  clear  the 
way  of  pedestrians,  donkeys,  camels,  and  horses,  driving  them  un- 
ceremoniously to  the  right,  to  the  left,  into  the  ditch — anywhere  out 
of  my  road  ;  for  am  I  not  for  the  time  being  under  the  Shah's 
special  protection  ?  I  am  as  much  the  Shah's  toy  and  plaything  of 
the  moment,  as  an  electric  light,  a  stop-watch,  or  as  the  big  Krupp 
gun,  the  concussion  of  which  nearly  scared  the  soldiers  out  of  their 
wits,  by  shaking  down  the  little  miaars  of  one  of  the  city  gates, 
close  to  which  they  had  unwittingly  discharged  it  on  first  trial. 

The  foreign  office,  like  every  building  of  pretension,  whether 
public  or  private,  in  the  land  of  the  Lion  and  the  Sun,  is  a  sub- 
stantial edifice  of  mud  and  brick,  inclosing  a  square  court -yard  or 
garden,  in  which  splashing  fountains  play  amid  a  wealth  of  vegeta- 
tion that  springs,  as  if  by  waft  of  magician's  wand,  from  the  sandy 


524  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEIIEEAN. 

soil  of  Persia  wherever  water  is  abundantly  supplied.  TaU,  slender 
poplars  are  nodding  in  the  morning  breeze,  the  less  lofty  almond 
and  pomegranate,  sheltered  from  the  breezes  by  the  surrounding 
building,  rustle  never  a  leaf,  but  seem  to  be  offering  Pomona's  choice 
products  of  nuts  and  rosy  pomegranates,  with  modest  mien  and 
silence  ;  whilst  beds  of  rare  exotics,  peculiar  to  this  sunny  cKme, 
imparts  to  the  atmosphere  of  the  cool  shaded  garden,  a  pleasing 
sense  of  being  perfumed.  Here,  by  means  of  the  Shah's  interpreter, 
I  am  introduced  to  Nasr-i-MuIk,  the  Persian  foreign  minister,  a 
kindly-faced  yet  business-looting  old  gentleman,  at  whose  request 
I  mount  and  ride  with  some  difficulty  around  the  confined  and 
quite  unsuitable  foot-walks  of  the  garden  ;  a  crowd,  of  officials  and 
farrashes  look  on  in  unconcealed  wonder  and  delight.  True  to  their 
Persian  characteristic  of  inquisitiveness,  Nasr-i-Mulk  and  the  officers 
catechise  me  unmercifully  for  some  time  concerning  the  mechanism 
and  capabilities  of  the  bicycle,  and  about  the  past  and  f  utui'e  of  the 
journey  around  the  world. 

In  company  with  the  interpreter,  I  now  ride  out  to  the  Doshan 
Tepe  gate,  where  we  are  to  await  the  arrival  of  the  Shah.  Prom  the 
Doshan  Tepe  gate  is  some  four  English  mUes  of  fairly  good  artifi- 
cial road,  leading  to  one  of  the  royal  summer  palaces  and  gardens. 
His  Majesty  goes  this  morning  to  the  mountains  beyond  Doshan 
Tepe  on  a  shooting  excursion,  and  wishes  me  to  ride  out  with  his 
party  a  few  miles,  thus  giving  him  a  good  opportunity  of  seeing 
something  of  what  bicycle  travelling  is  like.  The  tardy  monarch 
keeps  myself  and  a  large  crowd  of  attendants  waiting  a  full  horn-  at 
the  gate,  ere  he  puts  in  an  appearance.  Among  the  crowd  is  the 
Shah's  chief  shikaree  (hunter),  a  grizzled  old  veteran,  beneath  whose 
rifle  many  a  forest  prowler  of  the  Caspian  slope  of  Mazanderan  has 
been  laid  low.  The  shikaree,  upon  seeing  me  ride,  and  not  being 
able  to  comprehend  how  one  can  possibly  maintain  the  equilibrium, 
exclaims  :  "  Oh,  ayab  Ingilis !  "  (Oh,  the  wonderful  English  !) 

Everybody's  face  is  vrreathed  in  smiles  at  the  old  shikaree's  ex- 
clamation of  wonderment,  and  when  I  jokingly  advise  hiw  that  he 
ought  to  do  his  hunting  for  the  future  on  a  bicycle,  and  again  mount 
and  ride  with  hands  off  handles  to  demonstrate  the  possibility  of 
shooting  from  the  saddle,  the  delighted  crowd  of  horsemen  burst 
out  in  hearty  laughter,  many  of  them  exclaiming,  "  Bravo !  bravo  !  " 
At  length  the  word  goes  round  that  the  Shah  is  coming.  Every- 
body dismounts,  and  as  the  royal  carriage  drives  up,  eveiy  Persian 


TEHERAN. 


525 


bows  bis  head  neai-ly  to  the  ground,  remaining  in  that  highly  sub- 
missive attitude  until  the  carriage  halts  and  the  Shah  summons  mj^- 
self  and  the  interpreter  to  his  side. 

lam  the  only  Ferenghi  in  the  party,  my  two  English  companions 
having  returned  to  the  city,  intending  to  rejoin  me  when  I  separate 
from  the  Shah. 

The  Shah  impresses  one  as  being  more  intelligent  than  the 
average  Persian  of  the  higher  class  ;  and  although  they  ai-e,  as  a 


The  Shah  Escorts  Me  to  Dohan  Tepe. 


nation,  inordinately  inquisitive,  no  Persian  has  taken  a  more  lively 
interest  in  the  bicycle  than  His  Majesty  seems  to  take,  as,  through 
his  interpreter,  he  plys  me  with  all  manner  of  questions.  Among 
other  questions  he  asks  if  the  Koords  didn't  molest  me  when  coming- 
through  Koordistan  without  an  escort ;  and  upon  hearing  the  story 
of  my  adventure  with  the  Koordish  shepherds  between  Ovahjik  and 
Khoi,  he  seems  greatly  amused.  Another  large  party  of  horsemen 
arrived  with  the  Shah,  swelling  the  company  to  perhaps  two  hun- 
dred attendants. 


526  FROM   SAN   FEANCISCO   TO   TEIIEEAN. 

Pedaling  alongside  the  carriage,  in  the  best  position  for  the  Shah 
to  see,  we  proceed  toward  Doshan  Tepe,  the  crowd  of  horsemen  fol- 
lowing, some  behind  and  others  careering  over  the  stony  plain 
through  which  the  Doshan  Tepe  highway  leads.  After  covering 
about  half  a  mile,  the  Shah  leaves  the  carriage  and  mounts  a  saddle- 
horse,  in  order  to  the  better  "  put  me  through  some  exercises." 
First  he  requests  me  to  give  him  an  exhibition  of  speed ;  then  I 
have  to  ride  a  short  distance  over  the  rough  stone-strewn  plain,  to 
demonstrate  the  possibility  of  traversing  a  rough  country,  after 
which  he  desires  to  see  me  ride  at  the  slowest  pace  possible.  AH 
this  evidently  interests  him  not  a  Mttle,  and  he  seems  even  more 
amused  than  interested,  laughing  quite  heartily  several  times  as  he 
rides  alongside  the  bicycle.  After  awhile  he  again  exchanges  for 
the  carriage,  and  at  four  miles  from  the  city  gate  we  arrive  at  the 
palace  garden.  Through  this  garden  is  a  long,  smooth  walk,  and 
here  the  Shah  again  requests  an  exhibition  of  my  speeding  abilities. 
The  garden  is  traversed  with  a  network  of  irrigating  ditches  ;  but 
I  am  assured  there  is  nothing  of  the  kind  across  the  pathway  along 
which  he  wishes  me  to  ride  as  fast  as  possible.  Two  hundred  yards 
from  the  spot  where  this  solemn  assurance  is  given,  it  is  only  by  a 
lightning-like  dismount  that  I  avoid  running  into  the  very  thing 
that  I  was  assured  did  not  exist — it  was  the  narrowest  possible  es- 
cape from  what  might  have  proved  a  serious  accident. 

Hiding  back  toward  the  advancing  party,  I  point  out  my  good 
fortune  in  escaping  the  tumble.  The  Shah  asks  if  people  ever  hurt 
themselves  by  falling  off  bicycles  ;  and  the  answer  that  a  fall  such 
as  I  would  have  experienced  by  running  full  speed  into  the  irri- 
gating ditch,  might  possibly  result  in  broken  bones,  appeared  to 
strike  him  as  extremely  humorous  ;  from  the  way  he  laughed  I 
fancy  the  sending  me  flying  toward  the  irrigating  ditch  was  one  of 
the  practical  jokes  that  he  is  sometimes  not  above  indulging  m. 
After  mounting  and  forcing  my  way  for  a  few  yards  through  deep, 
loose  gravel,  to  satisfy  his  curiosity  as  to  what  could  be  done  in 
loose  ground,  I  trundle  along  with  him  to  a  small  menagerie  he 
keeps  at  this  place.  On  the  way  he  inquires  about  the  number  of 
wheelmen  there  are  in  England  and  America  ;  whether  I  am  Eng- 
lish or  American  ;  why  they  don't  use  iron  tires  on  bicycles  instead 
of  rubber,  and  many  other  questions,  proving  the  great  interest 
aroused  in  him  by  the  advent  of  the  first  bicycle  to  appear  in  his 
Capital.    The  menagerie  consists  of  one  cage  of  monkeys,  about  a 


TEnEKA:rT. 


527 


dozen  lions,  and  two  or  three  tigers  and  leopards.  We  pass  along 
from  cage  to  cage,  and  as  the  keeper  coaxes  the  animals  to  the  bars, 
the  Shah  amuses  himself  by  poking  them  with  an  umbrella.  It  was 
arranged  in  the  original  programme  that  I  should  accompimy  them 
up  into  their  rendezvous  in  the  foot-hills,  about  a  mile  beyond  the 
palace,  to  take  breakfast  with  the  pai-ty  ;  but  seeing  the  difficulty  of 
getting  up  there  with  the  bicycle,  and  not  caring  to  spoil  the  f  avor- 


The  Shah  shows  me  his  Menagerie. 


able  impression  already  made,  by  having  to  trundle  up,  I  ask  per- 
mission to  take  my  leave  at  this  point.  The  request  is  granted,  and 
the  interpreter  returns  with  me  to  the  city — thus  ends  my  memor- 
able bicycle  ride  with  the  Shah  of  Persia. 

Soon  after  my  ride  with  the  Shah,  the  Naib-i-Sultan,  the  Gov- 
ernor of  Teheran  and  commander-in-chief  of  the  army,  asked  me  to 
bring  the  bicycle  down  to  the  military  maidan,  and  ride  for  the 
edification  of  himself  and  offieera     Being  busy  at  something  or 


528  FROM   SAN   FRANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN. 

other  -wlien  the  invitation  was  received,  I  excused  myself  and  re- 
quested that  he  make  another  appointment. 

I  am  in  the  habit  of  taking  a  constitutional  spin  every  morning  ; 
by  means  of  which  I  have  figured  as  an  object  of  interest,  and  have 
been  stared  at  in  blank  amazement  by  full  half  the  wonder-stricken 
population  of  the  city.  The  fame  of  my  journey,  the  knowledge  of 
my  appearance  before  the  Shah,  and  my  frequent  appearance  upou 
the  streets,  has  had  the  effect  of  making  me  one  of  the  most  con- 
spicuous characters  in  the  Persian  Capital ;  and  the  people  have 
bestowed  upon  me  the  expressive  and  distinguishing  title  of  "  the 
asp-i-awhan  Sahib  "  (horse  of-irou  Sahib). 

A  few  mornings  after  receiving  the  Naib-i-Sultan's  invitation,  I 
happened  to  be  wheeling  past  the  military  maidan,  and  attracted 
by  the  sound  of  martial  music  inside,  determined  to  wheel  in  and 
investigate.  Perhaps  in  aU  the  world  there  is  no  finer  military 
parade  ground  than  in  Teheran  ;  it  consists  of  something  over  one 
hundred  acres  of  perfectly  level  ground,  forming  a  square  that  is 
walled  completely  in  by  alcoved  walls  and  barracks,  with  gaily 
painted  bcda-khanas  over  the  gates.  The  delighted  guards  at  the 
gate  make  way  and  present  arms,  as  they  see  me  approaching ; 
wheeling  inside,  I  am  somewhat  taken  aback  at  finding  a  general 
review  of  the  whole  Teheran  garrison  in  progress  ;  about  ten  thou- 
sand men  are  manoeuvring  in  squads,  companies,  and  regiments 
over  the  ground. 

Having,  from  previous  experience  on  smaller  occasions,  discov- 
ered that  my  aj)pearance  on  the  incomprehensible  "  asp-i-awhan  " 
would  be  pretty  certain  to  temporarily  demoralize  the  troops  and 
create  general  disorder  and  inattention,  I  am  for  a  moment  unde- 
termined about  whether  to  advance  or  retreat.  The  acclamations 
of  deHght  and  approval  from  the  nearest  troopers  at  seeing  me 
enter  the  gate,  however,  determines  me  to  advance  ;  and  I  start  off 
at  a  rattling  pace  around  the  square,  and  then  take  a  zig-zag  course 
through  the  manoeuvring  bodies  of  men. 

The  sharp-shooters  lying  prostrate  in  the  dust,  mechanically 
rise  up  to  gaze  ;  forgetting  theu-  discipline,  squares  of  soldiers 
change  into  confused  companies  of  inattentive  men  ;  simultaneous 
confusion  takes  place  in  straight  lines  of  marching  troops,  and  the 
music  of  the  bands  degenei-ates  into  inharmonious  toots  and  dis- 
cordant squeaks,  from  the  inattention  of  the  musicians.  All  along 
the  line  the  signal  runs — not  "  every  Persian  is  expected  to  do  his 


TEHEEAN.  529 

duty,"  but  "  the  asp-i-aivhan  Sahib !  the  asp-i-awhan  Sahib ! "  the 
^yhole  army  is  in  direful  commotion.  In  the  midst  of  the  general 
confusion,  up  dashes  an  orderly,  who  requests  that  I  accompany 
him  to  the  presence  of  the  Commander-in-Clnef  and  staff ;  which, 
of  course,  I  readily  do,  though  not  without  certain  misgivings  as 
to  my  probable  reception  under  the  circumstances.  There  is  no 
occasion  for  misgivings,  however ;  the  Naib-i-Sultan,  instead  of 
being  displeased  at  the  interruiDtion  to  the  review,  is  as  delighted 
at  the  appearance  of  "  the  asp-i-auhan,  as  is  Abdul,  the  drummer- 
boy,  and  he  has  sent  for  me  to  obtain  a  closer  acquaintance.  After 
riding  for  their  edification,  and  answering  their  multifarious  ques- 
tions, I  suggest  to  the  Commander-in-Chief  that  he  ought  to  mount 
the  Shah's  favorite  regiment  of  Cossacks  on  bicycles.  The  sugges- 
tion causes  a  general  laugh  among  the  company,  and  he  replies  : 
"  Yes,  asp-i-awhan  Cossacks  would  look  very  splendid  on  our  dress 
parade  here  in  the  maidan  ;  but  for  scouting  over  our  rough  Per- 
sian mountains  " — and  the  Naib-i-Sultan  fi.nished  the  sentence  with 
a  laugh  and  a  negative  shrug  of  his  shoulders. 

Two  mornings  after  this  I  take  a  spin  out  on  the  Doshan  Tepe 
road,  and,  upon  wheeling  through  the  city  gate,  I  find  myself  in 
the  immediate  presence  of  another  grand  review,  again  under  the 
personal  inspection  of  the  Naib-i-Sultan.  Disturbing  two  grand 
reviews  within  two  days  is,  of  course,  more  than  I  bargained  for, 
and  I  would  gladly  have  retreated  through  the  gate  ;  but  coming 
f  uU  upon  them  unexpectedly,  I  find  it  impossible  to  prevent  the 
inevitable  result.  The  troops  are  drawn  up  in  line  about  fifty 
yards  from  the  road,  and  are  for  the  moment  standing  at  ease, 
awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  Shah,  while  the  Commander-in-chief  and 
his  staff  are  indulging  in  soothing  whiffs  at  the  seductive  kalian. 
The  cry  of  "  asp-i-awhan  Sahib  ! "  breaks  out  all  along  the  line,  and 
scores  of  soldiers  break  ranks,  and  come  running  helter-skelter 
toward  the  road,  regardless  of  the  line-officers,  who  frantically  en- 
deavor to  wave  them  back.  Dashing  ahead,  I  am  soon  beyond  the 
lines,  congratulating  myself  that  the  effects  of  my  disturbing  pres- 
ence is  quickly  over ;  but  ere  long,  I  discover  that  there  is  no  other 
ridable  road  back,  and  am  consequently  compelled  to  pass  before 
them  again  on  returning.  Accordingly,  I  hasten  to  return,  before 
the  anival  of  the  Shah.  Seeing  me  returning,  the  Naib-i-Sultan 
and  his  staff  advance  to  the  road,  with  kalians  in  hand,  their  oval 
faces  wreathed  in  smiles  of  apf)robation  ;  they  extend  cordial  salu- 
34 


530  FROM  SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

tations  as  I  wheel  past.  The  Persians  seem  to  do  Uttle  more  than 
play  at  soldiering  ;  perhaps  in  no  other  army  in  the  world  could  a 
lone  cycler  demoralize  a  general  review  twice  within  two  days,  and 
then  be  gi'eeted  with  approving  smiles  and  cordial  salutations  by 
the  commander-in-chief  and  his  entire  staff. 

Through  November  and  the  early  part  of  December,  the  weather 
in  Teheran  continues,  on  the  whole,  quite  agreeable,  and  suitable 
for  short-distance  wheeling  ;  but  mindful  of  the  long  distance  yet 
before  me,  and  the  uncertainty  of  touching  at  any  point  where  sup- 
phes  could  be  forwarded,  I  deem  it  advisable  to  take  my  exercise 
afoot,  and  save  my  rubber  tires  for  the  more  serious  work  of  the 
journey  to  the  Pacific. 

There  are  no  green  lanes  down  which  to  stroU,  nor  emerald 
meads  through  which  to  wander  about  the  Persian  capital,  though 
what  green  things  there  are,  retain  much  of  theu"  greenness  until 
the  early  vrinter  months.  The  fact  of  the  existence  of  any  green 
thing  whatever — and  even  to  a  greater  extent,  its  survival  through 
the  scorching  summer  months — depending  almost  wholly  on  irri- 
gation, enables  vegetation  to  retain  its  pristine  freshness  almost 
until  suddenly  pounced  upon  and  surprised  by  the  frost.  There  is 
no  springy  turf,  no  velvety  greensward  in  the  land  of  the  Lion 
and  the  Sun.  No  sooner  does  one  get  beyond  the  vegetation, 
called  into  existence  by  the  moisture  of  an  irrigating  ditch  or  a 
stream,  than  the  bare,  gray  surface  of  the  desert  crunches  beneath 
one's  tread.  There  is  an  avenue  leading  part  way  from  the  city 
to  the  summer  residence  of  the  English  Minister  at  Gulaek,  that 
conjures  up  memories  of  an  English  lane  ;  but  the  double  row  of 
chenars,  poplars,  and  jujubes  ai-e  kept  alive  by  irrigation,  and  all 
outside  is  verdureless  desert. 

Things  are  valued  everywhere  for  their  scarcity,  and  a  patch  of 
greensward  large  enough  to  recline  on,  a  shady  tree  or  shrub,  and 
a  rippUng  rivulet  are  appreciated  in  Persia  at  their  proper  value — 
appreciated  more  than  broad,  green  pastui-es  and  waving  groves 
of  shade-trees  in  moister  climes.  Moreover,  there  is  a  peculiar 
charm  in  these  bright  emerald  gems,  set  in  sombre  gray,  be  they 
never  so  small  and  insignificant  in  themselves,  that  is  not  to  be 
experienced  where  the  contrast  is  less  marked. 

Scattered  here  and  there  about  the  stony  plain  between  Teheran 
and  the  Elburz  foot-hills,  are  many  beautiful  gardens — beautiful 
for  Persia — where  a  pleasant  hour  can  be  spent  wandering  beneath 


fl 


532  FROM   SAN    FEANCISCO   TO   TEnERAN. 

the  shady  avenues  and  among  the  fountains.  These  gardens  are 
simply  patches  redeemed  from  the  desert  plain,  supplied  with  irri- 
gating water,  and  surrounded  with  a  high  mud  wall ;  leading 
through  the  garden  are  gravelled  walks,  shaded  by  rows  of  graceful 
chenars.  The  gardens  are  planted  with  fig,  pomegranate,  almond 
or  apricot  trees,  grape-vines,  melons,  etc.  ;  they  are  the  property 
of  wealthy  Teheranis  who  derive  an  income  from  the  sale  of  the 
fruit  in  the  Teheran  market.  The  ample  space  within  the  city 
ramparts  includes  a  number  of  these  delightful  retreats,  some  of 
them  presenting  the  additional  charm  of  historic  interest,  from 
having  been  the  property  and,  peradventure,  the  favorite  summer 
residence  of  a  former  king.  Such  a  one  is  an  extensive  garden  in 
the  northeast  quarter  of  the  city,  in  which  was  situated  one  of  the 
favorite  summer  palaces  of  Fatteh-ali  Shah,  grandfather  of  Nasr-e- 
deen. 

It  was  chiefly  to  satisfy  my  curiosity  as  to  the  truth  of  the  cur- 
rent stories  regarding  that  merry  monarch,  and  his  exceedingly 
novel  methods  of  entertaining  himself,  that  I  accepted  the  invita- 
tion of  a  friend  to  visit  this  garden  one  afternoon.  My  friend  is 
the  owner  of  a  pair  of  white  bull-dogs,  who  accompany  us  into  the 
garden.  After  strolling  about  a  little,  we  are  shown  into  the  sum- 
mer palace  ;  into  the  audience  room,  where  we  are  astonished  at 
the  beautiful  coloring  and  marvellously  life-like  representations  in 
the  old  Persian  frescoing  on  the  walls  and  ceiling.  Depicted  in 
life-size  are  Fatteh-ali  Shah  and  his  courtiers,  together  with  the 
European  ambassadors,  painted  in  the  days  when  the  Persian  court 
was  a  scene  of  dazzling  splendor.  The  monarch  is  portrayed  as  an 
exceedingly  handsome  man  with  a  full,  black  beard,  and  is  covered 
with  a  blaze  of  jewels  that  are  so  faithfully  pictured  as  to  appear 
almost  like  real  gems  on  the  walls.  It  seems  strange — almost 
startling — to  come  in  from  contemplating  the  bare,  unlovely  mud 
walls  of  the  city,  and  find  one's  self  amid  the  life-like  scenes  of 
Fatteh-ali  Shah's  court ;  and,  amid  the  scenes  to  find  here  and 
there  an  English  face,  an  English  figure,  dressed  in  the  triangular 
cockade,  the  long  Hessian  pigtail,  the  scarlet  coat  with  fold-back 
tails,  the  knee-breeches,  the  yellow  stockings,  the  low  shoes,  and 
the  long,  slender  rapier  of  a  George  III.  courtier.  From  here  we 
visit  other  rooms,  glittering  rooms,  all  mirror-work  and  white 
stucco.  Into  rooms  we  go  whose  walls  consist  of  myriads  of  tiny 
sqiiares  of  rich  stained  glass,  worked  into  intricate  patterns  and  geo-- 


TEIIEKAN.  533 

metrical  designs,  but  wliicli  are  now  rapidly  falling  into  decay  ;  and 
then  we  go  to  see  the  most  novel  feature  of  the  garden — Fatteh- 
ali  Shah's  marble  slide,  or  shute. 

Passing  along  a  sloping,  arched  vault  beneath  a  roof  of  massive 
marble,  we  find  ourselves  in  a  small,  subterranean  court,  through 
which  a  stream  of  pure  spring  water  is  flowing  along  a  white  marble 
channel,  and  where  the  atmosphere  must  be  refreshingly  cool  even 
in  the  middle  of  summer.  In  the  centre  of  the  little  court  is  a  round 
tank  about  four  feet  deep,  also  of  white  marble,  which  can  be  filled 
at  pleasure  with  water,  clear  as  crystal,  from  the  running  stream. 
Leading  from  an  upper  chamber,  and  overlapping  the  tank,  is  a 
smooth-worn  marble  slide  or  shute,  about  twenty  feet  long  and  four 
broad,  which  is  pitched  at  an  angle  that  makes  it  imperative  upon 
any  one  trusting  themselves  to  attempt  the  descent,  to  slide  help- 
lessly into  the  tank.  Here,  on  summer  afternoons,  with  the  chas- 
tened daylight  peeping  through  a  stained-glass  window  in  the  roof, 
and  carpeting  the  white  marble  floor  with  rainbow  hues,  with  the 
only  entrance  to  the  cool  and  massive  marble  court,  guarded  by 
armed  retainers,  who  while  guarding  it  were  conscious  of  guarding 
their  own  precious  lives,  Fatteh-ali  Shah  was  wont  to  beguile  the 
houi-s  away  by  making  merry  with  the  bewitching  nymphs  of  his 
anderoon,  transforming  them  for  the  nonce  into  naiads. 

There  are  no  nymphs  nor  naiads  here  now,  nothing  but  the 
smoothly-worn  marble  shute  to  tell  the  tale  of  the  merry  past ;  but 
we  obtain  a  realistic  idea  of  their  sportive  games  by  taking  the  bull- 
dogs to  the  upper  chamber,  and  giving  them  a  start  down  the  slide. 
As  they  clutch  and  claw,  and  look  scared,  and  appeal  mutely  for 
assistance,  only  to  slide  gradually  down,  down,  down,  and  fall  with 
a  splash  into  the  tank  at  last,  we  have  only  to  imagine  the  bull-dogs 
transformed  into  Fatteh-ali  Shah's  naiads,  to  learn  something  of  the 
truth  of  current  stories.  After  we  have  slid  the  dogs  down  a  few 
times,  and  they  begin  to  realize  that  they  are  not  sliding  hopelessly 
down  to  destruction,  they  enjoy  the  sport  as  much  as  we,  or  as  much 
as  the  naiads  perhaps  did  a  hundred  years  ago. 

That  portion  of  the  Teheran  bazaar  immediately  behind  the 
Shah's  winter  palace,  is  visited  almost  daily  by  Europeans,  and 
their  presence  excites  little  comment  or  attention  from  the 
natives  ;  but  I  had  frequently  heard  the  remark  that  a  Perenghi 
couldn't  walk  through  the  southern,  or  more  exclusive  native 
quarters,  without  being   insulted.     Determined  to  investigate,  I 


534  FEOM   SAN  PEANCISCO  TO  TEHEKAW. 

sallied  forth  oiie  afternoon  alone,  entering  the  bazaat  on  the  east 
side  of  the  palace  wall,  -where  I  had  entered  it  a  dozen  times  be- 
fore. 

The  streets  outside  are  sloppy  with  melting  snow,  and  the 
roofed  passages  of  the  bazaar,  being  dry  underfoot,  are  crowded 
with  people  to  an  unusual  extent ;  albeit  they  are  pretty  well 
crowded  at  any  time.  Most  of  the  dervishes  in  the  city  have  been 
driven,  by  the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  to  seek  shelter  in  the 
bazaar ;  these,  added  to  the  no  small  number  who  make  the  place 
their  regular  foraging  ground,  render  them  a  greater  nuisance  than 
ever.  They  are  encountered  in  such  numbers,  that  no  matter 
which  way  I  turn,  I  am  confronted  by  a  rag-bedecked  mendicant, 
with  a  wild,  haggard  countenance  and  grotesque  costume,  thrust- 
ing out  his  gourd  alms-receiver,  and  muttering  "  huk  yah  huk !  " 
each  in  his  own  peculiar  way. 

The  mollahs,  with  their  flowing  robes,  and  huge  white  turbans, 
likewise  form  no  inconsiderable  proportion  of  the  moving  throng  ; 
they  are  almost  without  exception  scrupulously  neat  and  clean  in 
appearance,  and  their  priestly  costume  and  Pharisaical  deportment 
gives  them  a  certain  air  of  stateliness.  They  wear  the  placid  ex- 
pression of  men  so  utterly  puffed  up  vnth  the  notion  of  theu-  own 
sanctity,  that  their  self- consciousness  verily  seems  to  shine  through 
their  skins,  and  to  impart  to  them  a  sleek,  oily  appearance.  One 
finds  himself  involuntarily  speculating  on  how  they  aU  manage  to 
make  a  living;  the  mollah  "toils  not,  neither  does  he  spin,"  and 
almost  every  other  person  one  meets  is  a  mollah. 

The  bazaar  is  a  common  thoroughfare  ior  anything  and  every- 
thing that  can  make  its  way  through.  Donkey-riders,  horsemen, 
and  long  strings  of  camels  and  pack-mules  add  their  disturbing  in- 
fluence to  the  general  confusion  ;  and  although  hundreds  of  stalls 
are  heaped  up  with  every  merchantable  thing  in  the  city,  scores  of 
donkeys  laden  with  similar  products  are  meandering  aboiit  among 
the  crowd,  the  venders  shouting  their  wares  with  lusty  lungs.  In 
many  places  the  din  is  quite  deafening,  and  the  odors  anything  but 
agreeable  to  European  nostrils  ;  but  the  natives  are  not  over  fas- 
tidious. The  steam  issuing  from  the  cook-shops,  from  coppers 
of  soup,  pillau  and  sheeps'-trotters,  and  the  less  objectionable  odors 
from  places  whei-e  busy  men  are  roasting  bazaar-kabobs  for  hun- 
gry customers  all  day  long,  mingle  with  the  aromatic  contribu- 
tions from  the  spice  and  tobacco  shops  wedged  in  between  them. 


TEHERAN.  535 

The  sleek-looking  spice  mercliant,  squatting  contentedly  beside  a 
pan  of  glowing  embers,  smoking  kalian  after  kalian  in  dreamy  con- 
templation of  his  assistant  waiting  on  customers,  and  also  occa- 
sionally waiting  on  him  to  the  extent  of  replenishing  the  fire  on 
the  kalian,  is  undoubtedly  the  happiest  of  mortals.  With  a  kabob- 
shop  on  one  hand,  a  sheeps'-trotter-shop  on  the  other,  and  a 
bakery  and  a  fruit-stand  oiDposite,  he  indulges  in  tid-bits  from 
either  when  he  is  hungry.  With  nothing  to  do  but  smoke  kalians 
amid  the  fragrant  aroma  of  his  own  spices,  and  keep  a  dreamy  eye 
on  what  passes  on  around  him,  his  Persian  notions  of  a  desirable 
life  cause  him  to  regard  himself  as  blest  beyond  comparison  with 
those  whose  avocations  necessitate  physical  esertion.  All  the 
shops  are  open  front  places,  like  small  fruit  and  cigar  stands  in  an 
American  city,  the  goods  being  arranged  on  boards  or  shelvLog, 
sloping  down  to  the  front,  or  otherwise  exposed  to  the  best  advan- 
tage, according  to  the  nature  of  the  wares  ;  the  shops  have  no  win- 
dows, but  are  protected  at  night  by  wooden  shutters. 

The  piping  notes  of  the  flute,  or  the  sing-song  voice  of  the  trou- 
badour or  story-teller  is  heard  behind  the  screened  entrance  of  the 
Ichai-khans,  and  now  and  then  one  happens  across  groups  of  angry 
men  quarrelling  violently  over  some  trifling  difference  in  a  bargain  ; 
noise  and  confusion  everywhere  reign  supreme.  Here  the  road  is 
blocked  up  by  a  crowd  of  idlers  watching  a  trio  of  lutis,  or  buffoons, 
jerking  a  careless  and  indifferent-looking  baboon  about  with  a  chain 
to  make  him  dance  ;  and  a  little  farther  along  is  another  crowd  sur- 
veying some  more  lutis  with  a  small  brown  bear.  Both  the  baboon 
and  the  bear  look  better  fed  than  their  owners,  the  contributions 
of  the  onlookers  consisting  chiefly  of  eatables,  bestowed  upon  the 
animals  for  the  pui-pose  of  seeing  them  feed. 

Half  a  mile,  or  thereabouts,  from  the  entrance,  an  inferior 
quarter  of  the  bazaar  is  reached  ;  the  crowds  are  less  dense,  the 
noise  is  not  near  so  deafening,  and  the  character  of  the  shops  un- 
dergoes a  change  for  the  worse.  A  good  many  of  the  shops  are 
untenanted,  and  a  good  many  others  are  occupied  by  artisansmanu- 
facturing  the  ruder  articles  of  commerce,  such  as  horseshoes,  pack- 
saddles,  and  the  trappings  of  camels.  Such  articles  as  kalians,  che- 
bouks  and  other  pipes,  geivehs,  slippers  and  leather  shoes,  hats. 
Jewelry,  etc.,  are  generally  manufactured  on  the  premises  in  the 
better  portions  of  the  bazaar,  where  they  are  sold.  Perched  in 
among  the  rude  cells  of  industry  are  cook-shops  and  tea-drinking 


536  FROM   SAW  FRANCISCO   TO  TEHERAN. 

estabKshments  of  an  inferior  grade  ;  and  the  occupants  of  tliese 
places  eye  me  curiously,  and  call  one  another's  attention  to  the  un- 
usual cii'cumstance  of  a  Fereughi  passing  through  their  quarter. 
After  half  a  mile  of  this,  my  progress  is  abruptly  terminated  by  a 
high  mud  wall,  with  a  narrow  passage  leading  to  the  right.  I  am 
now  at  the  southern  extremity  of  the  bazaar,  and  turn  to  retrace 
my  footsteps. 

So  far  I  have  encountered  no  particular  disposition  to  insult 
anybody  ;  only  a  little  additional  rudeness  and  simple  inquisitive- 
ness,  such  as  might  very  naturally  have  been  expected.  But  ere  I 
have  retraced  my  way  three  hundred  yards,  I  meet  a  couple  of 
rowdyish  young  men  of  the  charmdar  class ;  no  sooner  have  I 
passed  them  than  one  of  them  wantonly  delivers  himself  of  the 
promised  insult — a  peculiar  noise  with  the  mouth  ;  they  both  start 
off  at  a  run  as  though  expecting  to  be  pursued  and  punished.  As 
I  turn  partially  round  to  look,  an  old  pomegranate  vender  stops  his 
donkey,  and  with  a  broad  grin  of  amusement  motions  me  to  give 
chase.  When  uearing  the  more  respectable  quarter  again,  I  stroll 
up  one  of  the  numerous  ramifications  leading  toward  what  looks 
like  a  particularly  rough  and  dingy  quarter.  Before  going  many 
steps  I  am  halted  by  a  friendly-faced  sugar  merchant,  with  "Sahib," 
and  sundry  significant  shakes  of  the  head,  signifying,  if  he  were 
me,  he  wouldn't  go  up  there.  And  thus  it  is  in  the  Teheran  bazaar  ; 
where  a  Ferenghi  will  get  insulted  once,  he  will  find  a  dozen  ready 
to  interpose  with  friendly  officiousness  between  him  and  anything 
likely  to  lead  to  unpleasant  consequences.  On  the  whole,  a  Euro- 
pean fares  better  than  a  Persian  in  his  national  costume  would  in 
an  Occidental  citj',  in  spite  of  the  difference  between  our  excellent 
police  regnilations  and  next  to  no  regulations  at  all ;  he  fares  better 
than  a  Chinaman  does  in  New  York. 

The  Teheran  bazaar,  though  nothing  to  compare  to  the  world- 
famous  bazaar  at  Stamboul,  is  wonderfully  extensive.  I  was  under 
the  impression  that  I  had  been  pretty  much  all  through  it  at  dif- 
ferent times  ;  but  a  few  days  after  my  visit  to  the  "  slummy  " 
quarters,  I  follow  a  party  of  corpse-bearers  down  a  passage-way 
hitherto  unexplored,  to  try  and  be  present  at  a  Persian  funeral,  and 
they  led  the  way  past  at  least  a  mile  of  shops  I  had  never  yet  seen. 
I  followed  the  corpse-bearers  through  the  dark  passages  and  nar- 
row alley-ways  of  the  poorer  native  quarter,  and  in  spite  of  the 
lowering  brows  of  the  followers,  penetrated  even  into  the. house 


538  FEOM   SAN   FEAWCISCO   TO   TEHEEAjST. 

where  tliey  washed  the  corpses  before  burial ;  but  here  the  officiating 
mollahs  scowled  with  such  unmistakable  displeasure,  and  refused 
to  proceed  in  my  presence,  so  that  I  am  forced  to  beat  a  retreat. 
The  poorer  native  quarter  of  Teheran  is  a  shapeless  jumble  of  mud 
dwellings,  and  ruins  of  the  same  ;  the  streets  are  narrow  passages 
describing  all  manner  of  crooks  and  angles  in  and  out  among 
them. 

As  I  emerge  from  the  vaulted  bazaar  the  sun  is  almost  setting, 
and  the  musicians  in  the  bala-khanas  of  the  palace  gates  are  usher- 
ing in  the  close  of  another  day  with  discordant  blasts  from  ancient 
Persian  trumpets,  and  belaboring  hemispherical  kettle-drums. 
These  musicians  are  dressed  in  fantastic  scarlet  uniforms,  not  un- 
like the  costume  of  a  fifteen  century  jester,  and  every  evening  at 
sundown  they  repair  to  these  bala-khanas,  and  for  the  space  of  an 
hour  dispense  the  most  unearthly  music  imaginable.  The  trum- 
pets are  sounding-tubes  of  brass  about  five  feet  long,  which  respond 
to  the  eflbrts  of  a  strong-winded  person,  with  a  diabolical  basso- 
profundo  shriek  that  puts  a  Newfoundland  fog-horn  entirely  in  the 
shade.  When  a  dozen  of  these  instruments  are  in  full  blast, 
without  any  attempt  at  harmony,  it  seems  to  shed  a  depressing 
shadow  of  barbarism  over  the  whole  city.  This  sunset  music  is,  I 
think,  a  relic  of  very  old  times,  and  it  jars  on  the  nerves  like  the 
despairing  howl  of  ancient  Persia,  protesting  against  the  innovation 
from  the  pomp  and  din  and  glamour  of  her  old  pagan  glories,  to 
the  present  miserable  era  of  mollah  rule  and  feeble  dependence  for 
national  existence  on  the  forbearance  or  jealousy  of  other  nations. 
Beneath  the  musicians'  gate,  and  I  emerge  into  a  small  square 
which  is  half  taken  up  by  a  square  tank  of  water  ;  near  the  tank  is 
a  large  bronze  cannon.  It  is  a  huge,  unwieldy  piece,  and  a  muzzle- 
loader,  utterly  useless  to  such  a  people  as  the  Persians,  except  for 
ornament,  or  perhaps  to  help  impress  the  masses  with  an  idea  of 
the  Shah's  unapproachable  greatness. 

It  is  the  special  hour  of  prayer,  and  in  every  direction  may  be 
observed  men,  halting  in  whatever  they  may  be  doing,  and  kneel- 
ing down  on  some  outer  garment  taken  ofif  for  the  purpose,  re- 
peatedly touch  their  foreheads  to  the  ground,  bending  in  the 
direction  of  Mecca.  Passing  beneath  the  second  musicians'  gate, 
I  reach  the  artillery  square  just  in  time  to  see  a  company  of  army 
buglers  formed  in  line  at  one  end,  and  a  company  of  musketeers 
at  the  other.     As  these  more  modern  ti-umpeters  proceed  to  toot^ 


TEHEKAN.  639 

the  company  of  musketeers  opposite  present  arms,  and  then  the 
music  of  the  new  buglers,  and  the  hoai-se,  fog-horn-like  blasts  of 
the  fantastic  tooters  on  the  bala-khmas  dies  away  together  in  a 
concerted  effort  that  would  do  credit  to  a  troop  of  wild  ele- 
phants. 

When  the  noisy  trumpeting  ceases,  the  ordinary  noises  round 
about  seem  like  solemn  silence  in  comparison,  and  above  this  com- 
parative silence  can  be  heard  the  voices  of  men  here  and  there  over 
the  city,  calling  out  "  Al-lah-il-All-ah ;  Ali  Ak-bar !  "  (God  is  great- 
est ;  there  is  no  god  but  one  God  !  etc.)  with  stentorian  voices.  The 
men  are  perched  on  the  roofs  of  the  mosques,  and  on  noblemen's 
walla  and  houses ;  the  Shah  has  a  strong- voiced  muezzin  that  can 
be  heard  above  all  the  others. 

The  sun  has  just  set ;  I  can  see  the  snowy  cone  of  Mount 
Demavend,  peeping  apparently  over  the  high  barrack  walls  ;  it  has 
just  taken  on  a  distinctive  roseate  tint,  as  it  oftentimes  does  at 
sunset ;  the  reason  whereof  becomes  at  once  apparent  upon  turn- 
ing toward  the  west,  for  the  whole  western  sky  is  aglow  with  a  gor- 
geous sunset — a  sunset  that  paints  the  horizon  a  blood  red,  and 
spreads  a  warm,  rich  glow  over  half  the  heavens. 

The  moon  will  be  full  to-night,  and  a  far  lovelier  picture  even 
than  the  glorious  sunset  and  the  rose-tinted  mountain,  awaits  anj^one 
curious  enough  to  come  out-doors  and  look.  The  Persian  moon- 
light seems  capable  of  surrounding  the  most  commonplace  objects 
with  a  halo  of  beauty,  and  of  blending  things  that  are  nothing  in 
themselves,  into  scenes  of  such  transcendental  loveliness  that  the 
mere  casual  contemplation  of  them  sends  a  thrill  of  pleasure  cours- 
ing through  the  system.  There  is  no  city  of  the  same  size  (180,- 
000)  in  England  or  America,  but  can  boast  of  buildings  infinitely 
superior  to  anything  in  Teheran  ;  what  trees  there  are  in  and  about 
the  city  are  nothing  comftared  to  what  we  are  used  to  having  about 
us  ;  and  although  the  gates  with  their  short  minars  and  their 
gaudy  facings  are  certainly  unique,  they  suffer  greatly  from  a  close 
investigation.  Nevertheless,  persons  happening  for  the  first  time 
in  the  vicinity  of  one  of  these  gates  on  a  calm  moonlight  night, 
and  perchance  descrying  "  fair  Luna  "  through  one  of  the  arches 
or  between  the  minars,  will  most  likely  find  themselves  transfixed 
with  astonishment  at  the  marvellous  beauty  of  the  scene  presented. 
By  repairing  to  the  artillery  square,  or  to  the  short  street  be- 
tween the  square  and  the  palace  front,  on  a  moonlight  night,  one 


540  FROM   SAN   FKANCISOO   TO   TEHEEAlSr. 

can  experience  a  new  sense  of  nature's  loveliness  ;  the  soft,  chas- 
tening light  of  the  Persian  moon  converts  the  gaudy  gates,  the 
dead  mud-walls,  the  spraggling  trees,  and  the  background  of  snovs^y 
mountains  nine  miles  away,  into  a  picture  that  will  photograph 
itself  on  one's  memory  forever. 

On  the  way  home  I  meet  one  of  the  lady  missionaries — which 
reminds  me  that  I  ought  to  mention  something  about  the  peculiar 
position  of  a  Ferenghi  lady  in  these  Mohammedan  countries,  where 
it  is  considered  highly  improper  for  a  woman  to  exj)ose  her  face  in 
pubHc.  The  Persian  lady  on  the  streets  is  enveloped  in  a  shroud- 
like  garment  that  transforms  her  into  a  shapeless  and  ungraceful- 
looking  bundle  of  dark-blue  cotton  stuff.  This  garment  covers 
head  and  everything  except  the  face  ;  over  the  face  is  worn  a  white 
veil  of  ordinary  sheeting,  and  opposite  the  eyes  is  inserted  an  ob- 
long peep-hole  of  open  needle-work,  resembling  a  piece  of  per- 
forated card-board.  Not  even  a  glimpse  of  the  eye  is  visible, 
unless  the  lady  happens  to  be  handsome  and  coquettishly  inclined  ; 
she  will  then  manage  to  grant  you  a  momentary  peep  at  her  face  ; 
but  a  wise  and  discreet  Persian  lady  wouldn't  let  you  see  her  face 
on  the  street — no,  not  for  worlds  and  worlds  ! 

The  European  lady  with  her  uncovered  face  is  a  conundrum 
and  an  object  of  intense  curiosity,  even  in  Teheran  at  the  present 
day  ;  and  in  provincial  cities,  the  wife  of  the  lone  consul  or  tele- 
graph employ^  finds  it  highly  convenient  to  adopt  the  native  cos- 
tume, face-covering  included,  when  venturing  abroad.  Here,  in 
the  capital,  the  wives  and  daughters  of  foreign  ministers,  Euro- 
pean officers  and  telegraphists,  have  made  uncovered  female  faces 
tolerably  familiar  to  the  natives  ;  but  they  cannot  quite  under- 
stand but  that  there  is  something  highly  indecorous  about  it,  and 
the  more  unenlightened  Persians  doubtless  regard  them  as  quite 
bold  and  forward  creatures.  Armenian  women  conceal  their  faces 
almost  as  completely  as  do  the  Persian,  when  they  walk  abroad  ; 
by  so  doing  they  avoid  unpleasant  criticism,  and  the  rude,  inquisi- 
tive gaze  of  the  Persian  men.  Although  the  Persian  readily  recog- 
nizes the  fact  that  a  Sahib's  wife  or  sister  must  be  a  superior  person 
to  an  Armenian  female,  she  is  as  much  an  object  of  interest  to  him 
when  she  appears  with  her  face  uncovered  on  the  street,  as  his  own 
wives  in  their  highly  sensational  in-door  costumes  would  be  to 
some  of  us.  In  order  to  establish  herself  in  the  estimation  of  the 
average  Persian,  as  all  that  a  woman  ought  to  be,  the  European 


TEHEEAN.  541 

lady  would  have  to  conceal  her  face  and  cover  her  shapely,  tight- 
fitting  dress  with  an  inelegant,  loose  mantle,  whenever  she  ven- 
tured outside  her  own  doors. 

With  something  of  a  penchant  for  undertaking  things  never 
before  accomplished,  I  proposed  one  morning  to  take  a  walk 
around  the  ramparts  that  encompass  the  Persian  capital.  The 
question  arose  as  to  the  distance.  Ali  Akbar,  the  head  fwra^li, 
said  it  was  sis  farsakhs  (about  twenty-four  miles)  ;  Meshedi  Ab- 
dul said  it  was  more.  From  the  well-known  Persian  characteristic 
of  exaggerating  things,  we  concluded  from  this  that  perhaps  it 
might  be  fifteen  mUes  ;  and  on  this  basis  Mr.  Meyrick,  of  the 
Indo-European  Telegraph  staff,  agreed  to  bear  me  company.  The 
ramparts  consist  of  the  earth  excavated  from  a  ditch  some  forty 
feet  wide  by  twenty  deep,  banked  up  on  the  inner  side  of  the 
ditch  ;  and  on  top  of  this  bank  it  is  our  purpose  to  encompass  the 
city. 

Eight  o'clock  on  the  appointed  morning  finds  us  on  the  ram- 
parts at  the  Gulaek  Gate,  on  the  north  side  of  the  city.  A  cold 
breeze  is  blowing  off  the  snowy  mountains  to  the  northeast,  and  we 
decide  to  commence  our  novel  walk  toward  the  west.  Following 
the  zigzag  coufigui-ation  of  the  ramparts,  we  find  it  at  first  some- 
what rough  and  stony  to  the  feet ;  on  our  right  we  look  down  into 
the  broad  ditch,  and  beyond,  over  the  sloping  plain,  our  eyes  fol- 
low the  long,  even  rows  of  kanaat  mounds  stretching  away  to  the 
rolling  foot-hills  ;  towering  skyward  in  the  background,  but  eight 
miles  away,  are  the  snowy  masses  of  the  Elburz  Range.  Forty 
miles  away,  at  our  back,  the  conical  peak  of  Demavend  peeps, 
white,  spsctral,  and  cold,  above  a  bank  of  snow-clouds  that  are 
piled  motionless  against  its  giant  sides,  as  though  walling  it  com- 
pletely off  from  the  lower  world.  On  our  left  lies  the  city,  a  curious 
conglomeration  of  dead  mud-walls,  flat-roofed  houses,  and  poplar- 
peopled  gardens.  A  thin  haze  of  smoke  hovers  immediately  above 
the  streets,  through  which  are  visible  the  minarets  and  domes  of 
the  mosques,  the  square,  illumined  towers  of  the  Shah's  anderoon,  the 
monster  skeleton  dome  of  the  canvas  theatre,  beneath  which  the 
Shah  gives  once  a  year  the  royal  tazzia  (representation  of  the  tragedy 
of  "Hussein  and  Hassan"),  and  the  tall  chimney  of  the  arsenal, 
from  which  a  column  of  black  smoke  is  issuing.  Away  in  the  dis- 
tance, far  beyond  the  confines  of  the  city,  to  the  southward,  glitter- 
ing like  a  mirror  in  the  morning  sun,  is  seen  the  dome  of  the  great 


542  FEOM   SAN  FRANCISCO  TO  TEHERAN. 

mosque  at  Sliahabdullahzeen,  said  to  be  roofed  with  plates  of  pure 
gold. 

As  we  pass  by  we  can  see  inside  the  walls  of  the  EngUsh  Le- 
gation grounds ;  a  magnificent  garden  of  shady  avenues,  asphalt 
walks,  and  dark-green  banks  of  English  ivy  that  trail  over  the 
ground  and  climb  half-vyay  up  the  trunks  of  the  trees.  A  square- 
turreted  clock-tower  and  a  buUding  that  resembles  some  old  an- 
cestral manor,  imparts  to  "  the  finest  piece  of  property  in  Tehe- 
ran "  a  home-like  appearance  ;  the  representative  of  Her  Majesty's 
Government,  separated  from  the  outer  world  by  a  twenty-four- 
foot  brick  wall,  might  well  imagine  himself  within  an  hour's  ride 
of  London. 

Beyond  the  third  gate,  the  character  of  the  soil  changes  from 
the  stone-strewn  gravel  of  the  northern  side,  to  red  stoneless  earth, 
and  both  inside  and  outside  the  ramparts  fields  of  winter  wheat 
and  hardy  vegetables  form  a  refreshing  relief  from  the  barren  char- 
acter of  the  surface  generally.  The  Ispahan  gate,  on  the  southern 
side,  appears  the  busiest  and  most  important  entrance  to  the  city  ; 
by  this  gate  enter  the  caravans  froin  Bushire,  bringing  English 
goods,  from  Bagdad,  Ispahan,  Tezd,  and  all  the  cities  of  the  southern 
provinces.  Numbers  of  caravans  are  camped  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
gate,  completing  their  arrangements  for  entering  the  city  or  de- 
parting for  some  distant  commercial  centre  ;  many  of  the  waiting 
camels  are  kneeling  beneath  their  heavy  loads  and  quietly  feeding. 
They  are  kneeling  iu  small,  compact  circles,  a  dozen  camels  in  a 
circle  with  their  heads  facing  inward.  In  the  centre  is  placed  a 
pile  of  chopped  straw ;  as  each  camel  ducks  his  head  and  takes  a 
mouthful,  and  then  elevates  his  head  again  while  munching  it  vnth 
great  gusto,  wearing  meanwhile  an  expression  of  intense  satisfac- 
tion mingled  with  timidity,  as  though  he  thinks  the  enjoyment  too 
good  to  last  long,  they  look  as  cosey  and  fussy  as  a  gathering  of 
Puritanical  grand-dames  drinking  tea  and  gossiping  over  the  latest 
news. 

Within  a  mile  of  the  Ispahan  gate  are  two  other  gates,  and  be- 
tween them  is  an  area  devoted  entirely  to  the  brick-making  in- 
dustry. Here  among  the  clay-pits  and  abandoned  kilns  we  ob- 
tain a  momentary  glimpse  of  a  jackal,  drinking  from  a  ditch.  He 
slinks  off  out  of  sight  among  the  caves  and  ruins,  as  though  con- 
scious of  acting  an  ungenerous  part  in  seeking  his  living  in  a 
city  already  full  of  gaunt,  half-starved   pariahs,  who  pass  their 


TEIIERAlSr.  543 

lives  in  wandering  listlessly  and  hungrily  about  for  stray  morsels 
of  offal.  Several  of  these  pariahs  have  been  so  unfortunate  as  to 
get  down  into  the  rampart  ditch  ;  we  can  see  the  places  where  they 
have  repeatedly  made  frantic  rushes  for  liberty  up  the  almost  per- 
pendicular escarp,  only  to  fall  helplessly  back  to  the  bottom  of 
their  roofless  dungeon,  where  they  will  gradually  starve  to  death. 
The  natives  down  in  this  part  of  the  city  greet  us  with  curious 
looks ;  they  are  wondering  at  the  sight  of  two  Ferenghis  prome- 
nading the  ramparts,  far  away  from  the  European  quarter ;  we  can 
hear  them  making  remarks  to  that  effect,  and  calling  one  another's 
attention.  The  sun  gets  warm,  although  it  is  January,  as  we  pass 
the  Doshan  Tepe  and  the  Meshed  gates,  remarking  as  we  go  past 
that  the  Shah's  summer  palace  on  the  hill  to  the  east  compares 
favorably  in  whiteness  with  the  snow  on  the  neighboring  moun- 
tains. As  we  again  reach  the  Gulaek  gate  and  descend  from  the 
ramparts  at  the  place  we  started,  the  clock  in  the  English  Lega- 
tion tower  strikes  twelve. 

"  How  many  miles  do  you  call  it  ?  "  asks  my  companion. 

"Just  about  twelve  miles,"  I  reply ;  "  what  do  you  make 
it?" 

"  That's  about  it,"  he  agrees  ;  "  twelve  miles  round,  and  eleven 
gates.  We  have  walked  or  climbed  over  the  archway  of  eight  of 
the  gates  ;  and  at  the  other  three  we  had  to  climb  off  the  ramparts 
and  on  again." 

As  far  as  can  be  learned,  this  is  the  first  time  any  Ferenghi 
has  walked  clear  around  the  ramparts  of  Teheran.  It  is  nothing 
worth  boasting  about ;  only  a  little  tramp  of  a  dozen  miles,  and 
there  is  little  of  anything  new  to  be  seen.  All  around  the  out- 
side is  the  level  plain,  verdureless,  except  an  occasional  cultivated 
field,  and  the  orchards  of  the  tributary  villages  scattered  here  and 
there. 

In  certain  quarters  of  Teheran  one  happens  across  a  few  re- 
maining f amiUes  of  guebres,  or  fire- worshippers  ;  remnant  represen- 
tatives of  the  ancient  Parsee  religion,  whose  devotees  bestowed  their 
strange  devotional  offerings  upon  the  fires  whose  devouring  flames 
they  constantly  fed,  and  never  allowed  to  be  extinguished.  These 
people  are  interesting  as  having  kept  their  heads  above  the  over- 
whelming flood  of  Mohammedanism  that  swept  over  their  country, 
and  clung  to  their  ancient  belief  through  thick  and  thin— or,  at  all 
events,  to  have  steadfastly  refused  to  embrace  any  other.    Little 


544  FROM   SAN  FEANCISCO   TO   TEHERAN'. 

evidence  of  their  religion  remains  in  Persia  at  tlie  present  day,  escej)t 
their  "  towers  of  silence  "  and  the  ruins  of  their  old  fire-temples. 
These  latter  were  built  chiefly  of  soft  adobe  bricks,  and  after  the  lapse 
of  centuries,  are  nothing  more  than  shapeless  reminders  of  the  past. 
A  few  miles  southeast  of  Teheran,  in  a  desolate,  unfrequented  spot, 
is  the  guebre  "  tower  of  silence,  "  where  they  dispose  of  their  dead. 
On  top  of  the  tower  is  a  kind  of  balcony  with  an  open  grated  floor  ; 
on  this  the  naked  corpses  are  placed  until  the  carrion  crows  and  the 
vultures  pick  the  skeleton  perfectly  clean  ;  the  dry  bones  are  then 
cast  into  a  common  receptacle  in  the  tower.  The  guehre  communi- 
ties of  Persia  are  too  impecunious  or  too  indifferent  to  keep  up  the 
ever -burning-fires  nowadays  ;  the  fires  of  Zoroaster,  which  in  olden 
and  more  prosperous  times  were  fed  with  fuel  night  and  day,  are 
now  extinguished  forever,  and  the  scattering  survivors  of  this  an- 
cient form  of  worship  form  a  unique  item  in  the  sum  total  of  the 
population  of  Persia. 

The  head- quarters — if  they  can  be  said  to  have  any  head-quarters 
— of  the  Persian  guehres  are  at  "Sezd,  a  city  that  is  but  little  known 
to  Europeans,  and  which  is  aU  but  isolated  from  the  remainder  of 
the  country  by  the  .great  central  desert.  One  great  result  of  this 
geographical  isolation  is  to  be  observed  to-day,  in  the  fact  that  the 
guebres  of  Yezd  held  their  own  against  the  unsparing  sword  of  Islam 
better  than  they  did  in  more  accessible  quarters  ;  consequently 
they  are  found  in  greater  numbers  there  now  than  in  other  Persian 
cities.  Curiously  enough,  the  chief  occupation — one  might  say  the 
sole  occupation^of  the  guebres  throughout  Persia,  is  taking  care  of 
the  suburban  gardens  and  premises  of  wealthy  people.  For  this 
purpose  I  am  told  guebre  familiss  are  in  such  demand,  that  if  they 
were  sufficiently  numerous  to  go  around,  there  would  be  scarcely  a 
piece  of  valuable  garden  property  in  all  Persia  without  a  family  of 
guebres  in  charge  of  it.  They  are  said  to  be  far  more  honest  and 
trustworthy  than  the  Persians,  who,  as  Shiite  Mohammedans,  con- 
sider themselves  the  holiest  people  on  earth  ;  or  the  Armenians,  who 
hug  the  flattering  unction  of  being  Christians  and  not  Moham- 
medans to  their  souls,  and  expect  all  Christendom  to  regard  them 
benignly  on  that  account.  It  is  doubtless  owing  to  this  invalu- 
able trait  of  their  character,  that  the  guebres  have  naturally  drifted 
to  their  level  of  guardians  over  the  private  property  of  their  weal- 
thy neighbors. 

The  costume  of  the  guebre  female  consists  of  Turkish  trousers 


35 


546  FEOM   SAN  FEANCISCO  TO   TEHERAW. 

with  very  loose,  baggy  legs,  the  material  of  which  is  usually  calico 
print,  and'  a  mantle  of  similar  material  is  wrapped  about  the  head 
and  body.  Unlike  her  Mohammedan  neighbor,  she  makes  no  pre- 
tence of  concealing  her  features  ;  her  face  is  usually  a  picture  of 
pleasantness  and  good-nature  rather  than  strikingly  handsome 
or  passively  beautiful,  as  is  the  face  of  the  Persian  or  Armenian 
belle. 

The  costume  of  the  men  differs  but  little  from  the  ordinary 
costume  of  the  lower-class  Persians.  Like  all  the  people  in  these 
Mohammedan  countries,  who  realize  the  weakness  of  their  posi- 
tion as  a  small  body  among  a  fanatical  population,  the  Teheran 
guebres  have  long  been  accustomed  to  consider  themselves  as  un- 
der the  protecting  shadow  of  the  English  Legation  ;  whenever  they 
meet  a  "  Sahib  "  on  the  street,  they  seem  to  expect  a  nod  of  recog- 
nition. 

Among  the  people  who  awaken  special  interest  in  Europeans 
here,  may  be  mentioned  Ayoob  Khan,  and  his  little  retinue  of  attend- 
ants, who  may  be  seen  on  the  streets  almost  any  day.  Ayoob  Khan 
is  in  exile  here  at  Teheran  in  accordance  with  some  mutual  arrange- 
ment between  the  English  and  Persian  governments.  On  almost 
any  afternoon,  about  four  o'clock,  he  may  be  met  with  riding  a  fine, 
large  chestnut  stallion,  accompanied  by  another  Afghan  on  an  iron 
gray.  I  have  never  seen  them  riding  faster  than  a  walk,  and  they 
are  almost  always  accompanied  by  four  foot-runners,  also  Afghans, 
two  of  whom  walk  behind  their  chieftain  and  two  before.  These 
runners  carry  stout  staves  with  which  to  warn  off  mendicants,  and 
with  a  view  to  making  it  uncomfortable  for  any  irrepressible  Persian 
rowdy  who  should  offer  any  insults.  Both  Ayoob  Khan  and  his 
attendants  retain  their  national  costume,  the  main  distinguishing 
features  being  a  huge  turban  with  about  two  feet  of  the  broad  band 
left  dangling  down  behind  ;  besides  this,  they  wear  white  cotton 
pantalettes  even  in  mid-winter.  They  wear  European  shoes  and 
overcoats,  as  though  they  had  profited  by  their  intercourse  with 
Anglo-Indians  to  the  extent  of  at  least  shoes  and  coat.  The  foot- 
runners  have  their  legs  below  the  knee  bound  tightly  with  strips  of 
dark  felt.  Judging  from  outward  appearances,  Ayoob  Khan  wears 
his  exile  lightly,  for  his  rotund  countenance  looks  pleasant  always, 
and  I  have  never  yet  met  him  when  he  was  not  chatting  gayly  with 
his  companion. 

Of  the  interesting  scenes  and  characters  to  be  seen  every  day 


TEHEEAK.  547 

on  the  streets  of  Telieran,  their  name  is  legion.  The  peregrinating 
tchai-Yenders,  who,  with  their  Httle  cabinet  of  tea  and  sugar  in  one 
hand,  and  samovar  with  live  charcoals  in  the  other,  wander  about 
the  city  picking  up  stray  customers,  for  whom  they  are  prepared  to 
make  a  glass  of  hot  tea  at  one  minute's  notice  ;  the  scores  of  weird- 
looking  mendicants  and  dervishes  with  their  highly  fantastic  cos- 
tumes, assailing  you  with  "  huk,  yah  huk  !  "  the  barbers  shaving 
the  heads  of  their  customers  on  the  public  streets— shaving  their 
pates  clean,  save  little  tufts  to  enable  Mohammed  to  pull  them  up 
to  Paradise  ;  and  many  others  the  description  and  enumeration  of 
which  would,  of  themselves,  fill  a  good-sized  volume. 


LONDOTT : 

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ST.  John's  house,  cleekekwell  boa.S}  e.c. 


A  Catalogue  of  American  and  Foreign  Books  Published  or 

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6.  Cruise  of  the  Challenger.     By  W.  J.  J.  Spry,  R.N. 

7.  Bumaby's  On  Horseback  throug-h  Asia  Minor.      loj.  6d. 

8.  Soh\7einfarth's  Heart  of  Africa.     2  vols.,  15J. 
g.  BEarshall's  Through  America. 

10.  LansdeU's    Throug-h     Siberia.      Illustrated   and  unabridged, 
lOf.  6d. 

Low's  Standard  Novels.    Small  post  Svo,  cloth  extra,  6s.  each, 
unless  otherwise  stated. 
A  Daugrhter  of  Heth.    By  W.  Black. 
In  Silk  Attire.     By  W.  Black. 
Kilmeny.     A  Novel.     By  W.  Black. 
Lady  SUverdale's  Sweetheart.     By  W.  BLACK. 
Sunrise.     By  W.  Black. 
Three  Feathers.     By  William  Black. 
Alice  Lorraine.     By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 
Christowell,  a  Dartmoor  Tale.    By  R.  D.  Elackmork. 
Clara  Vaushaa.    By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 


1 8  Sampson  Low,  Marston,  fr>  Cc.V 

Loie/s  Standard  Novels — continued. 

Cradock  Nowell.     By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 

Cripps  the  Carrier.     By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 

Erema ;  or,  My  Father's  Sin.    By  R.  D.  Blackmore, 

Lorna  Doone.    By  R.  D.  Blackmore.    25th  Edition. 

Mary  Anerley.    By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 

Tommy  Upmore.     By  R.  D.  Blackmore. 

An  English  Squire.    By  Miss  Coleridge. 

Some  One  Else.    By  Mrs.  B.  M.  Croker. 

A  Story  of  the  Dragounades.    By  Rev.  E.  Gilliat,  M.A. 

A  Laodicean.     By  Thomas  Hardy. 

Ear  from,  the  Madding:  Crowd.     By  Thomas  Hardy. 

Pair  of  Blue  Eyes.    By  Thomas  Hardy. 

Ketum  of  the  Native.    By  Thomas  Hardy. 

The  Hand  of  Ethelberta.    By  Thomas  Hardy. 

The  Trumpet  Major.    By  Thomas  Hardy. 

Two  on  a  Tower.    By  Thomas  Hardy. 

Three  Recruits.    By  Joseph  Hatton. 

A  Crolden  Sorrow.     By  Mrs.  Cashel  Hoey.     New  Edition. 

Out  of  Court.    By  Mrs.  Cashel  Hoey. 

Don  Tohn.     By  Jean  Ingelow. 

John  Jerome.    By  Jean  Ingelow.     Sj. 

Sarah  de  Berenger.     By  Jean  Ingelow. 

Adela  Cathcart.    By  George  Mac  Donald. 

Guild  Court.    By  George  Mac  Donald. 

Mary  Marston.    By  George  Mac  Donald. 

Stephen  Archer.  New  Ed.  of  "  Gifts. "  By  George  Mac  DONALD. 

The  Vicar's  Daughter.    By  George  Mac  Donald. 

■Weighed  and  Wanting.    By  George  Mac  Donald. 

Diane.    By  Mrs.  Macquoid. 

Elinor  Dryden.     By  Mrs.  Macquoid. 

My  Iiady  Greensleeves.    By  Helen  Mathers. 

Alaric  Spenceley.     By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Riddell. 

Daisies  and  Buttercups.     By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Riddell. 

The  Senior  Partner.    By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Riddell. 

A  Struggle  for  Fame.      By  Mrs.  J.  H.  Riddell. 

Jack's  Courtship.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

John  Holdsworth.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

A  Sailor's  Sweetheart.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

Sea  Queen.    By  W.  Clark  Russell 

Watch  Below.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

Strange  Voyage.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

Wreck  of  the  Qrosvenor.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

The  I.ady  Maud.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

liittle  Loo.    By  W.  Clark  Russell. 

The  Late  Mrs.  Null.    By  Frank  R.  Stockton. 

My  Wife  and  I.     By  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe. 

Foganuc  People,  their  Loves  and  Lives.    By  Mrs.  B.  Stowe. 


List  of  Publications.  19 


Low^s  Standard  Novels — conti?med. 

Ben  Hur :  a  Tale  of  the  Christ.    By  Lew.  Wallace. 
Anne.    By  Constance  Fenimore  Woolson. 
East  Angels.    By  Constance  Fenimore  Woolson. 
For  the  Kajor.    By  Constance  Fenimore  Woolson.    t,s. 
French  Heiress  in  her  own  Chateau. 

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T^CCORMICK  {J?.).    Voyages  of  Discovery  in  the  Arctic  and 
■^'■'-      Antarctic   Seas  in  the  "Erebus"  and  "Terror,"   in    Search   of 

Sir  John  Franklin,  &c.    With  Maps  and  Lithos.     2  vols.,  royal  8vo, 

S2S.  6d. 
MacDonald  (G.)  Oris.     Small  post  8vo,  6s. 

See  also  "  Low's  Standard  Novels." 

Mackay  {Charles)  New  Glossary  of  Obscure  Words  in  Shake- 

speaie.     21s. 
Macgregor {John)  "Rob  Roy"  on  the  Baltic.    3rd   Edition, 

small  post  8vo,  is.  bd. ;  cloth,  gilt  edges,  31.  td. 
A   Thousand  Miles  in  the  "Rob  Roy'''    Canoe,     nth 

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Voyage  Alone  /«  the  Yawl  "  Rob  Roy."    New  Edition 


with  additions,  small  post  Svo,  Sj.  ;  31.  dd.  and  is.  6d. 
McLellan's  Own  Story  :  The  War  for  the  Union.    Illustrations 

and  maps.     i%s. 
Macquoid{Mrs.).    See  Low's  Standard  Novels. 
Magazine.     See  Decoration,  English  Etchings,  Harper. 
Maginn  (W.)  Miscellanies.     Prose  and  Verse.     With  Memoir. 

2  vols.,  crown  Svo,  24^. 
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Crovm  Svo,  with  Four  Maps.     4th  Edition.     Cloth  extra,  los.  (>d. 
—  War  between  Peru  and  Chili,  1879-188 1.     Third  Ed. 

Crown  Svo,  with  Maps,  ioj.  (>d. 

See  also  "Foreign  Countries." 


Marshall  {W.  G.)  Through  America.     New  Ed.,  cr.  Svo,  7^.  6d. 


Sampson  Low,  Mars  ton,  &'  Co.'s 


Martin  (y.  W.)  Moat  Fishing  and  Spinning  in  the  Nottingham 

Style.     New  Edition.     Crown  8vo,  2s.  dd. 
Afauty  (Commander)  Physical  Geography  of  the  Sea,  and  its 

Meteorology.     New  Edition,  with  Charts  and  Diagrams,  or.  8vo,  6s. 
Men  of  Mark  :  a  Gallery  of  Contemporary  Portraits  of  the  most 

Eminent  Men  of  the  Day,  specially  taken  from  Life.    Complete  in 

Seven  Vols.,  4to,  handsomely  bound,  cloth,  gilt  edges,  2SJ-.  each. 
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Mendelssohn.     See  also  "  Great  Musicians." 
Merrifield's  Nautical  Astroftomy.     Crown  8vo,  7jf.  6d. 
Merrylees  {/.)  Carlsbad  and  its  Environs,     yj.  6d. ;  roan,  9^. 
Mitchell  {D.    G. ;  Ik.  Marvel)    Works.     Uniform   Edition, 

small  8vo,  S^.  each. 


Bound  together. 
Doctor  Johns. 
Dream  Life. 
Out-of-Town  Places. 


Reveries  of  a  Bachelor. 

Seven  Stories,  Basement  and  Attic. 

Wet  Days  at  Edgewood. 


Mitford {Mary  Rtessell)  Our  Village.  With  12  full-pape  and  157 
smaller  Cuts.     Cr.  4to,  cloth,  gilte^es,  2 If.;  cheaper  binding,  \os.  6d. 

Milford  (P^  Ned  Stafford s  Experiences  in  the  United  States,  ^s. 

Mollett  {J.  W.)  Illustrated  Dictionary  of  Words  usedin  Art  and 
Archseology.  Terms  in  Architecture,  Arms,  Bronzes,  Christian  Art, 
Colour,  Costume,  Decoration,  Devices,  Emblems,  Heraldry,  Lace, 
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Money  (E.)  The  Truth  about  America,    ^s. 

Morley  {H.)  English  Literature  in  the  Peign  of  Victoria. 
2000th  volume  of  the  Tauchnitz  Collection  of  Authors.     iSmo,  2J.  dd. 

Morse  (E.  S.)  Japanese  Homes  and  their  Surroundings.     With 

more  than  300  Illustrations.    z\s. 
Morwood.     Our  Gipsies  in  City,  Tent,  and  Van.     8vo,  i8.r. 
Moxley.     Barbados,  West  Indian  Sanatorium.     3X.  6d. 

Muller  (E.)  Noble  Words  and  Noble  Deeds,     is.  (td. ;  plainer 

bindmg,  ^s. 
Murray  {E.  C.  Grenville)  Memoirs.     By  his  widow,  Comtesse 

DE  RETHEL  d'AsAGON. 

Music.    See  "  Great  Musicians." 

Mustard  Leaves:  Glimpses  of  London  Society.  ByD.T.S.  3^.6^. 


List  of  Publications.  21 


T\TAPOLEON  and  Marie  Louise':  Memoirs.    By  Madame 

■'■  *      DURAND.     7j,  6d. 

New  Zealand.     See  Bradshaw. 
New  Zealand  Rulers  and  Statesmen.     See  Gisborne. 
Nicholls  {/.  H.  Kerry)    The  King  Country :  Explorations  in 
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Nordhoff  (^C.)  Calif ornia,  for  Health,  Pleasure,  and  Residence. 
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Northbrook  Gallery.  Edited  by  Lord  Ronald  Gower.    36  Per- 
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Nott  {Major)  Wild  Animals  Photographed  and  Described.    35^. 

Nursery   Playmates  {Prince  of ).     217   Coloured  Pictures  for 
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O'BRIEN  {R.  B.)  Fifty    Years  of  Concessions  to  Ireland. 
With  a  Portrait  of  T.  Drummond.     Vol.  I.,  i6j.,  II.,  l6j. 

Orient  Line  Guide  Book.     By  W.  J.  Loftie.     t,s. 

Orvis  {C.  P.)  Fishing  with  the  Fly.    Illustrated.    8vo,  12^.  6d. 

Our  Little  Ones  in  Heaven.     Edited  by  the  Rev.  H.  Robbins. 
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Outing  :  Magazine  of  Outdoor  Sports,     is.  Monthly. 

Owen  {Douglas)  Marine  Insurance  Notes  and  Clauses.     New 
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pALLISER  {Mrs.)  A  History  of  Lace.     New  Edition,  with 
■*■        additional  cuts  and  text.     8vo,  2,1s. 


The  China   Collector's  Pocket  Companion.    With  up- 
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Pascoe  {C.  E.)  London  of  To-Day.     Illust.,  crown  8vo,  3i-.  dd. 

Payne  {T.  O.)  Solomon's  Temple  and  Capitol,  Ark  of  the  Flood 
and  Tabernacle  (four  sections  at  24^.),  extra  binding,  105J. 

Pennell  {H.    Cholmondeley)  Sporting  Fish  of  Great  Britain. 
IS  J.  ;  large  paper,  30J. 

Pharmacopmia  of  the  United  States  of  America.     8vo,  21s. 


22  Sampson  Low,  Manton,  &»  Co.'s 

Philpot  {If./.)  Diabetes  MelUtus.     Crown  8vo,  5^. 

Diet  System.      Tables.      I.    Dyspepsia ;    II.    Gout ; 

III.  Diabetes  ;  IV.  Corpulence.    In  cases,  is.  each. 

Plunkett  {Major  G.  T^  Piiiner  of  Orthographic  Projediott. 
Elementary  Practical  Solid  Geometry  clearly  explained.  With  Pro- 
blems and  Exercises.  -Specially  adapted  for  Science  and  Art  Classes, 
and  for  Students  who  have  not  the  aid  of  a  Teacher.     2s. 

Poe  {E.  A.)  The  Raven.    Illustr.  by  DoRE.    Imperial  folio,  635. 

Poems  of  tJie  Inner  Life.  Chiefly  from  Modern  Authors. 
Small  8vo,  5j. 

Polar  Expeditions.     See  Gilder,  Markham,  McCormick. 

Porter  {Noah)  Elements  of  Moral  Sciena.     los.  6d. 

Portraits  of  Celebrated  Race-horses  of  the  Past  and  Present 
Centuries,  with  Pedigrees  and  Performances.    3  li.  (>d.  per  vol. 

Powell  {W.)  Wanderings  in  a  Wild  Country ;  or.  Three  Years 
among  the  Cannibals  of  New  Britain.     Illustr.,  Svo,  iZs.;  cr.  Svo,  $s. 

Poynter  {Edward f.,  R.A.).     See  "  Illustrated  Text-books." 
Priit  {T.  E.)  North    Country    Flies.      Illustrated  from  the 

Author's  Drawings.     \os.  6d. 
Publisher^  Circular  {The),  and  General  Record  of  British  and 
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TDEBER  {E.)  History  of  Ancient  Art.     Svo,  \?>s. 

Redford  {G.)  Ancient  Sailpture.     New  edition.     Crown  Svo, 
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Richter  {Dr.  Jean  Paul)  Italian  Art  in  the  National  Gallery. 
4to.  Illustrated.     Cloth  gilt,  2/.  2s.;  half-morocco,  uncut,  2.1.  12s.  6d. 

See  also  Leonardo  da  Vinci. 

Riddell  {Mrs.  J.  H.)    See  Low's  Standard  Novels. 

Robin  Hood;  Merry  Adventures  of.     Written  and  illustrated 
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Robinson  {Phil.)  In  my  Indian  Garden.     Crown  Svo,   limp 
eloth,  3^.  6d. 


List  of  PuUications.  23 


Robinson  {Phil.)  Indian  Garden    Series,    is.  6d. ;  boards,"  is. 
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I.  Chasing  a  Fortune,  &c.:  Stories.     II.  Tigers  at  Large.    III.  Valley 
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Noah's  Ark.      A  Contribution  to  the  Study  of   Un 

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Sinners  and  Saints :  a  Tour  across  the  United  States  of 


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Rocksiro  {W.  S.)  History  of  Music.     New  Edition.    8vo,  14^. 
Rodrigues  {/.   C.)   The  Panama  Canal.     Crown   8vo,  cloth 

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24  Sampson  Low,  Marston,  &'  Co.'s 

Sese  Library  {The) — continued. 

My  Study  "Windows.     By  J.  R.  Lowell. 

The  G-uardian  Angel.    By  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

My  Summer  in  a  Garden.    By  C.  D.  Warner. 

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Rowbotham  (F.)  Trip  to  Prairie  Land.     The  Shady  Side  of 
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List  of  Publications.  25 


Russell    {W.    Clark)  Jack's  Courtship.      3   vols.,  3 if.  6d.; 
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27ie  Lady  Maud.     3  vols.,  31^.  6d. ;  i  vol.,  6s. 

Sea  Queen.     3  vols.,  31J.  6d.;  1  voL,  ts. 

•  Strange  Voyage.     31^.  6d. 

• Little  Loo.     6s. 

My  Watch  Below.     6s. 


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Wreck  of  the  Grosvenor.     Small  post  8vo,  6s. ;    4to, 


sewed,  dd. 

T 

See  also  Low's  Standard  Novels. 


OAINTS  and  their  Symbols :  A  Companion  in  the  Churches 

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Sandilands  {/.  P.)  How  to  Develop  Vocal  Power,     is. 

Saunders  (A.)  Our  Domestic  Birds :  Poultry  in  England  and 
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Schuyler  {Eugene)  American  Diplomacy  and  the  Furtherance  of 

Commerce.     \zs.  td. 

~ The  Life  of  Peter  the  Great.     2  vols.,  8vo,  32*. 


26  Satnpson  Low,  Marston,  Si-»  Co.^s 

Schweinfurth  {Georg)  Heart  of  Africa.     Three  Years'  Travels 
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Scott  (Leader)  Renaissance  of  Art  in  Italy.     4to,  31J.  (>d. 

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