It may be still cheap for natives of these
countries, and for persons long inured to extreme
hardship, or for young men indifferent to
privations. But the effects of the late war, the liberal
scale of expenses of the Turko-Persian frontier
commission, and the frequent recent intercourse
with Europeans, have very much increased the
cost of everything. Wood is excessively dear
all along the road from the practice of cutting
down trees for fuel wherever they are to be
found, and never planting.

Wherever we pitched a tent, the owner of
the land came to demand compensation for
the injury which he declared done to his
property. These claims were frequently absurd,
but not always so, for we travelled in harvest
time, and, for safety, were obliged to pitch our
tents in the neighbourhood of some village. Our
famished mules may have often eaten up some
corn. About ten shillings a night may be
reckoned as the average cost of our tenting-
ground and water. In the neighbourhood of
large towns the expenses were greater.

There is still another reason which makes an
accurate calculation of the real expense of a
journey, absolutely impossible: that is, the
impudent fraud practised by bankers and
money-changers, with the large variation in the
value of the same coins at places but a few
hours' distance from each other. Then, when
a piece of money is changed, the nominal value
given for it by no means represents the real
one. The change is made up of Russian
coins, Turkish coins, Persian coins, Indian
coins, French coins, and Spanish dollars—- all
clipped, sweated, and defaced, almost beyond
recognition. These again bear a value differing
in every town and village. In some places all
payments appear to be made in kind. The people
are ignorant of every other use for gold money
than as an ornament for the hair; and the few
silver coins they possess, are hung upon the
bridles of their horses.

I felt very much like a boy going back to
school after the pleasantest midsummer holidays
possible, on the morning that we were to start
from Trebizond to Persia. I had been living
with a delightful family of English people for
some three weeks, waiting for news of the
last warlike movements upon the frontier; and
at last, on the evening previously, a courier had
galloped in all dusty and travel-stained with
intelligence which decided our journey. So
there we were, assembled for the last time
round the hospitable breakfast-table of my host.
The tablecloth was as white as snow, a fresh-
gathered nosegay bloomed on the table, happy
faces were round, it, and this was the last we
were to look upon of civilisation for one while.
Nothing could be nicer than the slices of fried
turbot caught a few hours before, and the pilaff
of quails which had fattened among the autumn
corn-fields; nothing could look more wholesome
and tempting than the jolly English ham and
corned beef upon the sideboard; and the tea
was from Russia, fragrant and costly. But this
was the only morning on which I failed to do
justice to the good cheer, rendered better by the
cordial welcome and kind smiles of my host and
hostess. How well I remember the tinkling of
the mule-bells, and how each vibration seemed to
echo in my heart, making it duller and duller;
and how wistfully I looked through the open
windows round which the creepers clustered all
in flower, and thought uncomfortably of the
preparations for departure which were going on
outside! Indeed, my host protracted them as long as
possible. He had always some prudent thought
for me, or some kind last intention to fulfil; but
everything comes to an end at last, and towards
the afternoon nothing more could possibly be
done for us, and we were obliged to acknowledge
that we were ready. I am not quite sure that
I could see my hostess and the children very
well, as we said " Good-by," or how it was that
I found myself cantering up the " azure hill" to
catch the caravan; but thus much was certain—-
I was fairly on my way for a journey in Central
Asia.

It was some time before we could see the
caravan winding through the woodlands in the
distance, and my host—- an old traveller who had
insisted upon accompanying me the first few
miles—- was good enough to turn the time to
account by giving me a little parting advice.

"You will find it cold," said he, " in the
mornings and evenings; and cold in these countries
is dangerous; take care, therefore, never to
allow yourself to get chilled. The natives of
these districts wear fur till the middle of June.
Europeans who come here dress themselves, I
don't know why, usually in all sorts of flimsy
summer clothes, and this is why they so often
get ill: the fact being that the climate is really
severe. Should you, in spite of precautions,
find yourself chilled, take a little cold brandy-
and-water, enough to warm you, immediately.
Absinthe is a good thing if' taken in
moderation, especially when you camp in marshy or
thickly-wooded places. There is a great deal of
difference between the use and the abuse of
spirits, and I am convinced that when employed
moderately they are very wholesome indeed in
these countries. As a rule, live well, eat
a fair quantity of meat during the day, and not
too much fruit; take a glass of wine or two with
your dinner—- sherry is best, and you have a
sufficient stock with you for the journey. If you get
wet, change your clothes as soon as possible.
Indeed, my advice to you may be easily summed
up in a couple of maxims, which you must take
care to remember: ' Do not catch cold,' and
' do not get wet.'"

When this brief lecture came to a close
we had reached a pretty shaded hollow near a
rivulet, and there my host had determined to
take leave of me. His servant was already
established there, with luncheon and a bottle
of champagne for a parting health, all ready
spread upon the trunk of a fallen tree. The
champagne, I have no doubt, made our
parting gayer than it otherwise would have been,
and I recollect we shook hands with tolerable
jollity when I turned to wander over the hills