'Notes of a journey from Kasreen to Hamadan across the Karaghan country. By J. D. Rees' [‎8v] (21/54)

8
NOTES OP A JOURNEY
miles.
'J miles.
Hence we made Ardakh, a large village, with fine vineyards
and orchards.
Yet another village, Saidabad, half the size of Ardakh and
with half its flocks, was reached before nightfall. Asking here
for shelter I was referred to “ the white beards,” who seemed in
no hurry to present themselves. Finally I got a nighFs lodging
with a “ Ghulam-i-Shah,” a slave of the Shah, that is, one of
his mounted non* descript retainers who spends half his time at
Teheran on duty and half his time in his village on leave. He
was a Turki, and the women of his family cooked some dinner for
me and conversed to some extent. I learnt the reason of the
shyness manifested on my arrival. The village had lately been
called on to supply recruits. I was a stranger, and probably
connected with something objectionable. It is enough to be a
stranger in these remote villages. To be also a Farangi merely
adds a thousandfold to curiosity and conjecture.
I learn here that the place near Siyadahan, called Kak on the
map, should be Kahak. Suck mistakes are serious to the traveller,
for to the people there is almost as much difference between
Kak and Kahak as between Monmouth and Macedon. Herein
however I speak from hearsay.
The pay of my host was £10 a year flus rations when on
duty. He had to mount himself, but then he had a small property
in the village and perhaps no small pickings in the town. The
guest-chamber, if the expression be allowed, was not badly
carpeted, and the niches of the false windows were strewn an inch
thick with rose leaves. This must not be taken as a represent
tative house. I dare say there was not another carpet in the
village of other than the commonest description.
In the morning the sick and halt all came for treatment. I
advised cold-water bathing for sore eyes, the commonest com
plaint, and here I would express a pious wish that some of the
money lavished by the rich and philanthropic on ineffectual
missions to unheeding Islam could be applied to equipping and
despatching some medical man of fair ophthalmic skill to travel
among these people. In the pure unclouded atmosphere of
Persia the summer sun strikes down on the unprotected eyes of
the labourer—no other, save once in a way a reckless traveller,
braves its rays—with intolerable force. Diseases of the eye are
universal; blindness very common. It is painful to see so much
suffering, to be asked for relief and to lack the power to give it
which the Farangi is ever thought to possess. In the towns in
Persia, common and unserviceable blue goggles can be bought
anywhere, but in the villages they are unknown. A supply of