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CHAPTER VIII.

MIYANDOB TO SUJ-BULAK.

AT the banks of the Jiratu, or Jirati, as it seems to be more often called, we were obliged to wait our turn to be carried across by the boat which answers the purpose of a ferry. This short delay, however, did not inconvenience one in the least, for there was plenty to see the while. A cavalcade of the Iliyat population were crossing at the time, and the boat was full of gaily - dressed women and children, of whom, too, a great number, together with men, cattle, camels, and horses, had already been ferried across. On the bank they had, while waiting for the rest of their gipsy relations, pitched their brown goat's-hair tents and lit their fires, and the cooking of the midday meal was in full swing. A prettier or more picturesque scene could not be imagined in the bright sunlight on the green river-bank. The cattle, camels, and horses browsed and grazed amongst the tents,

while many of the smaller children, to prevent their straying or falling down the steep clay banks into the river, were tethered, together with the lambs and kids, to the tent poles. Every one was active, save only the shepherd-boys who guarded the great flocks and herds that stood panting in the heat. For a background to this panorama of human beings, tents, fires, and kind, lay the river, and beyond the gardens of Miyandob and the hills farther away. But it was not long before it came to our turn to cross, for the Iliyats were coming from the farther shore, and the boat had to return empty. With a great deal of shouting and laughter, and no little danger from being kicked, we jumped our horses into the threecornered boat of rough planks and set out. Before, however, we reached the farther bank we were nearly being capsized; for with that want of forethought which fighting horses always show as to situation and danger, a wild battle-royal commenced in the frail craft between my three steeds. Our fellow-passengers, some women and children, began to scream, and for a moment or two affairs looked very serious; for we were rocking like a steamer in mid-ocean, and the current was whirling us down - stream the while. However, Mohammed and I managed to mount our horses, and from the elevated position of our saddles to keep them quiet, a state we could not have other

wise brought them to, mixed up as we were with the dozen or so other passengers who crowded the frail craft. As it was, the third horse jumped overboard before we reached the bank and swam ashore, to be soon caught by the skilful Iliyat Turkis, who are masters of horsecraft, like their near relations the Turkmans. A wild lot these men were, armed with daggers, blunderbusses, pistols, and as often as not European manufactured rifles. Half an hour of crossing canals and threading our way between gardens and we entered Miyandob at noon on May 16.

Our road from Tabriz to this spot, with the exception of turning aside to visit Maragha, had been nearly north and south; but at this point we had reached the south-east corner of Lake Urmiyah, which was distant about twenty miles, and were now to turn more to the west, in order to pursue our route toward Kurdistan and the Perso-Turkish frontier.

Miyandob may once have been a flourishing place, but to-day it is more than half in ruins. The rebellion of the Kurds and their invasion of this portion of Azerbaijan wrought such havoc in the place that it will take years before it can regain its former importance. Nor, for the matter of that, is it ever likely to do so under Persian rule; for decay has set its seal upon everything in that benighted country, and while a thousand towns are sinking into poverty and obli

vion, scarcely one is rising in importance or wealth. We wandered about the deserted streets-for such of the inhabitants as were not at work in the fields or the gardens had sought the coolness of their houses from the burning sun-before we could obtain quarters. Fortune, however, again favoured us in the end, and a lodging for our few hours' stay was offered by a handsome young member of the Ali Illahi sect, who had at one time been in the service of the Imperial Bank of Persia at Tehran. A cool room, plentiful bowls of curdled milk and buffalo cream, and trays of food, were soon brought, and we rested for three hours stretched upon clean carpets and pillows. The room in the house put at our disposal much resembled all those I saw in Northern Persia. It was of some size and oblong, a large and decorative window filling up almost the whole of one of its ends; the other three walls contained two tiers of the square niches answering to cupboards, which one finds all over the country. A rough fireplace with an open grate stood in the centre of the wall opposite the window. Kurdistan rugs, one or two of by no means poor design or manufacture, covered the floor, and mattresses and pillows lined the walls. Leading out of the room in which we were was a second, rougher in build and unwhitewashed, where the women of the household congregated, and which served also as a kitchen and

nursery. The ladies of his family did not cover their faces within doors, but brought us in our food on great copper trays, exhibiting such charms as they possessed. One or two showed some signs of beauty, but a general effect of untidiness and want of soap detracted much from their personal appearance. All wore necklaces of coral, amber, and silver, and the jackets of one or two were sewn with silver buttons and coins.

While our horses were being saddled for our departure I visited the covered bazaar, but there was little of any interest to be seen. Then presenting my hosts with a small present of money, enough to cover their expenses and a little over, we started once more on our journey.

A few words must be said about the Kurdish invasion under Sheikh Obeidullah, which wrought such havoc not only in Miyandob, but in other parts of the country surrounding Lake Urmiyah also. The leader of this rebellion was the son of a certain Sheikh Tahar, who was a noted chief in one of the mountain districts near Lake Van in Turkish territory. The father having died, the son, on account of his powerful personal character, obtained a great reputation for sanctity and political work, and entertained in magnificent style in his mountain home. Eventually in 1880 he and his