'Persia and the Persian Question by the Hon. George Nathaniel Curzon, M.P.' [‎267] (306/714)

FROM MESHED TO TEHERAN
'267
mad© constant inquiries. I might indeed, to record my own ex
perience, adopt the very words of Tavernier over two centuries
ago:—
lormerly the Mesched jewellers brought some turquoises of the
old rock out of Persia j but for these fifteen years last past there have
bin none found. The last time I was there I could only meet with
three which were but reasonable. As for those of the new rock, they
are of no value, because they do not keep their colour, but turn green
in a little time. 1
Against the proverbial craftiness of the Oriental the would-be
purchaser of turquoises must indeed be pre-eminently upon his
Deception S uar< ^- There is a plan by which the deep azure that
should characterise the true turquoise can be artfully
retained up till the very moment of sale. The stones are kept in
moist earthenware pots or otherwise damp, until they are parted
vyith. The purchaser hugs his trouvaille, only to see its colour fade
from day to day, until it is turned to a sickly green. The com
moner stones are much used in Persia and the East generally for
the decoration of bridles, horse-trappings, dagger-hilts and sheaths ;
though even of the fiat slabs so employed I could obtain no decent
specimens ; while the commonest of all are converted into charms
and amulets, Arabic characters being engraved and gilded upon
them so as to hide the flaws. A roaring trade in these trinkets is
driven with the pilgrims at Meshed,
From this digression let me now return to my forward journey.
The plain of Nishapur is separated from that of Sebzewar (which
Zafarani ^ l owe1 ') by an undulating range of ugly hills
over which the road passes. Fifteen miles from Nishapur,
the big caravanserai A roadside inn providing accommodation for caravans (groups of travellers). of Zaminabad is passed, the hills are entered
by a low pass, and after a while the post-station and hamlet of
Shurab (salt water) are discerned in a hollow. It was during the
next stage that my worst chajoar experience in Persia befell me.
The pitiful brute that I was riding smelt so abominably that I
could barely sit upon his back, while he himself groaned (for I can
call it by no other name) in a manner that testified to his own
misery. Removal of the saddle soon showed the seat of mischief
in a great open sore; but I only exchanged horses with the gholam
to discover that his Rosinante was similarly afflicted. It was cruelty
to man and beast alike to be compelled to ride these suffering
1 Travels, book v. cap. xii.