through the desert as quickly as in my power. We spent the night under shelter of one of the sandwaves, where the atmosphere was uncommonly hot and close.

waves.

1st April. I travelled to-day twenty miles across a desert of the same description as yesterday, and consequently the like impediments opposed me, which were trifling, however, compared with the distress suffered, not only by myself and people, but even the camels, from the floating particles of sand; a phenomenon which I am still at a loss to account for. When I first observed it, about ten a. m., the desert seemed at the distance of half a mile or less, to have an elevated and flat surface from six to twelve inches higher than the summits of the This vapour appeared to recede as we advanced, and once or twice completely encircled us, limiting the horizon to a very confined space, and conveying a most gloomy and unnatural sensation to the mind of the beholder: at the same moment we were imperceptibly covered with innumerable atoms of small sand, which getting into our eyes, mouths, and nostrils, caused excessive irritation attended with extreme thirst, that was increased in no small degree by the intense heat of the sun. On questioning my Brahooé guide who, though a perfectly wild savage, had more local knowledge than any other person of the party, he said that this annoyance was supposed by his countrymen and himself to originate in the solar beams causing the dust of the desert (as he emphatically styled it) to rise and float through the air; and, judg

ing from experience, I should pronounce this idea to be partly correct, as I can aver that this sandy ccean was only visible during the hottest part of the day. To prevent the supposition of my having been deceived in its reality, I may here add, that I have seen this phenomenon and the Suhrab, or watery illusion, so frequent in deserts, called by French travellers the Mirage, in opposite quarters at the same precise moment, and that they were to my sight perfectly distinct; the former having a cloudy and dim aspect, whilst the latter is luminous, and can only be mistaken for water. to corroborate what I have advanced, I may likewise state that I afterwards was joined by a Fakeer from Kabool, who had come through the desert from Seistan, and told me that he had witnessed the moving sands to a much greater degree than I had described (or was willing to give him credit for), as he talked of being forced to sit down in consequence of the density of the cloud which enveloped him.

To proceed with my journal. Sixteen miles from our last halting-place, we reached the eastern bank of a dry river called the Boodoor: it was at least five hundred yards in breadth, running in a south-south-east direction towards the coast; the bed of it in many places impervious from a thick jungul of different kinds of trees and brush-wood, the haunt of wolves, jackalls, and other wild animals. We turned to the right, and proceeded five miles north-westerly up the river bed to a spot where there had a few months before been a village

aptly

aptly called Regan, whose inhabitants had gone to Gurmsyl (which district lies north-northwest of this place) owing to the scarcity. Here we halted on the western brink, and with much digging and difficulty procured two Mushks, or skins, of water. I imagine the direct course from, the well we left yesterday morning to Regan, would have been about west; but our guide, fearing to lose himself, kept to the southward, where he could at intervals descry the mountains.

2d April. I set out from Regan just as the day began to dawn, and having made a westerly march of twenty-one miles, halted at three in the afternoon. The desert was not near so sandy, and in many places was composed of a hard black gravel without a trace of verdure, or even a bush to be seen. In the latter part of my route I could distinctly trace with my eye, a chain of lofty mountains stretching all round in front from south-west to northwest: and when we alighted off the camels, my guide shewed me the break in them through which we were to gain egress from this inhospitable waste.

I experienced this forenoon a violent tornado or gust of wind, accompanied by a torrent of rain which continued for half an hour, and was absorbed by the earth as it fell. It came on most unexpectedly, and had the guide not apprized me of its strength, we should probably have fared worse than we did, for it would have been an act of temerity to have tried to sit on the camels during its impetuous fury. Before it began, the sky was clear, save a

few small clouds in the northwest quarter, and the only antecedent warning it afforded, was the oppressive sultriness of the air and a vast number of whirlwinds springing up on all sides ; the moment the Brahocé saw these whirlwinds disperse, which they did as if by magic, and a cloud of dust approaching, he advised us to dismount, and we had hardly time to do so and lodgeourselves snugly behind the camels, when the storm burst upon us with a furious blast of wind: the rain fell in the largest drops 1 ever remember to have seen, and the air was so completely darkened, that I was absolutely unable to discern any thing at the distance of even five yards. Moorad happened to place himself about so many paces in front of me, and when I looked up, during the height of the tempest, I saw nothing of him, and therefore concluded he had shifted his position, but when it was over I found him still in the same spot. These bursts are by no means rare, and though unpleasant at the instant, have their attendant advantages, as they cool and purify the atmosphere, which would otherwise be quite intolerable at any season, and is so notwithstanding their prevalence, throughout the hot months from June to September.

Within that period, the winds in this desert are often so scorching and destructive, as to kill any thing, either animal or vegetable, that may be exposed to them, and the route by which I travelled is then deemed impassable. This wind is distinguished every where in Beloochistan, by the different

names

names of Julot or Julo, the flame, and Badé Sumoom, the pestilential wind. So powerfully searching is its nature, that it has been known to kill camels or other hardy animals, and its effects on the human frame were related to me by those who had been eyewitnesses of them, as the most dreadful that can be imagined; the muscles of the unhappy sufferer become rigid and contracted; the skin shrivels, an agonizing sensation, as if the flesh was on fire, pervades the whole frame, and in the last stage it cracks into deep gashes, producing hemorrhage, that quickly ends this misery. In some instances life is annihilated instantaneously, and in others the unfortunate victim lingers for hours, or perhaps days, in the excruciating tortures I have described. To render this terrible scourge still more baneful, its approach is seldom, if ever foreseen; and among all the Belooches with whom I have conversed regarding it, no one asserted more than that they had heard it was indicated by an unusual oppression in the air, and a degree of heat that affected the eyes; the precaution then adopted, is to cover themselves over, and lie prostrate on the earth. A curious fact is established by this custom, that any cloth, however thin, will obviate the deleterious effects of the Badé Sumoom on the human body.

THE CITY OF HERAT.

(From the same.) The city of Herat is situated in a valley, surrounded by lofty

mountains, and contiguous to the northern ridge, which separates it from the country of Bokhara. The valley extends at least thirty miles, from east to west, and is about fifteen broad, watered by a river rising in the mountains and running through the centre; it is highly cultivated, and the whole face of it is covered with villages and gardens. The approach to Herat from the Zearutgah, lies four miles between orchards, with a capital road; at the end of this road we came to the river, over which there is a very ancient bridge, four hundred yards in length, built of burnt brick, and said to have been erected by an oil woman at her own private expence; it is now, however, miserably decayed, and will soon tumble to pieces unless the government repair it. Previous to the building of this bridge the communication between the city and the country was yearly cut off, on the melting of the snow in the mountains, and the consequent swell of the river. When we had passed the bridge, we rode four miles through the suburbs along a good road, to the city gate.

The city covers an area of four square miles, and is fortified by a lofty mud wall, with towers and a wet ditch; in the northern face is a citadel elevated on a mound above the wall; this is a small square castle with towers at the angles, built of burnt brick, and the whole in line with the wall, and encompassed by a wet ditch, over which is a draw-bridge. Beyond this, there is also a recently constructed outer wall and dry ditch. The city has a gate in

each

each face, and two in the northern one; but on the whole it is very contemptible as a fortification. From each gate Bazars lead to the "Char Soobh," or market-place, in the centre of the town, which are spacious and well lined with shops; the principal one extends from the south gate to the Gunje Bazar, or cattle market, in front of the citadel, and is covered in with a vaulted roof of the whole length. These streets and the Char Soobh are so filled with the crowd of people on Thursday (the Bazar day), as to be almost impassable. On either side as you go along are large spacious Suraés, where the merchants have their Kothees, or factories; the city is well supplied with water, every Suraé having a Houz, or cistern, independent of the public ones on either side the Bazar streets. The meanest building in appearance, is the residence of the prince, of which you see no more than a common gate-way, over which is a wretched building, and in front an open square, with galleries in the centre, for the Nukurah Khana, or kettle-drums.

The Musjidé Jooma, or Friday's Mosque, was once a grand building, comprising an area eight hundred yards square, but this is fast going to decay. The private buildings in Heerat are by no means in this state, for no city has less ground unoccupied, and none, for its extent, can boast of a greater population. Heerat and its suburbs are computed to contain above one hundred thousand inhabitants, of whom ten thousand are Uffghans, the rest are Moghuls, a few Jews, and six hundred Hindoos. The Hindoos

are here highly respected, and alone possess capital. The government is sensible of their value, and they have in consequence much influence. They live in the best Suraés, and have gardens outside, but do not venture to bring their families with them to this city.

Heerat is a city of more trade than perhaps any other in Asia under a native government; it is called by distinction the Bunder, or port, and is the emporium between Kabool, Kandahar, Hindoostan, Kashmeer, and Persia, Bagdad, &c. From the four former it receives shawls, indigo, sugar, chintz, muslin, bafta, kincob, hides, and leather, which are exported to Mushid, Yezd, Tehraun, Bagdad, and Kirman; receiving in return, dollars, tea, sugar-candy, china ware, broadcloth, chintz, silk, copper, pepper, and all kinds of spices, dates, shawls, numuds, and carpets. The hides which are imported from Hindoostan return a profit of one hundred per cent. nett; indeed the whole trade is uncommonly advantageous to any one possessing capital. The currency here is that of Muhmood Shahee rupees, but accounts are kept in Kureem Khanee, at one hundred and twenty-five per hundred Muhmood Shahees.

The staples of Heerat are silk, saffron, and assafoetida, which are exported to Hindoostan; the silk cloths are not equal to the manufacture of Persia. The gardens are full of mulberry trees reared solely for the sake of the silkworm, and all the plains and hills round Heerat, particularly to the westward, produce assafoetida. It

grows

grows to the height of two or three feet, the stem two inches in diameter, and the head, when ripe, is yellow and resembles a cauliflower; the Hindoos and the Belooches are fond of it, they eat it by roasting the stem in the ashes, and stewing the head of it like other greens. It still, however, preserves its fætid taste and smell.

The gardens of Heerat are extensive; the Oordooé Bagh, belonging to the Prince and Baghé Shahee, planted by Tymoor Shah (this being his favourite seat,) are the only public ones, and now only attended to for their annual produce, which is sold in the Bazar. Leading to the latter is an avenue one mile in length, between fir trees; and adjoining are four minarets of a mosque that was intended for the tomb of the Imam Moosa Allee Reza, who, however, was disappointed of his visit to Heerat by dying at Mushid.

The villages in the neighbourhood of Heerat are numerous, and nothing can exceed the fertility of this valley; wheat and barley are most abundant, and fruit of all kinds amazingly cheap. When I was at Heerat, the horses were all at Bagh, up a place one stage over the mountains, for the benefit of the fine grass procurable there. They are generally half bred, but the merchants from Bokhara bring Toorkumanee horses, that sell in proportion to their height. The most celebrated breeder in this country is Booniad Beg of the tribe of Huzaree; he resides in the mountains towards Mushid, and has large herds of horses and mares: his

colts are highly prized, and are often sold for from one to four thousand rupees (1251. to 5001.) each. The tolls at Heerat are two rupees on every camel load going out of the city, and one anna, or sixteenth of a rupee on every twenty rupees' worth of merchandize sold in it. This is levied from the purchaser by the Suraédar, or tax-gatherer, who farms the tolls from government. Although the toll on camels appears so very trivial, it is avoided by every means to a large extent, of which I had an opportunity of knowing two or three instances. The revenues are estimated at four and a half lacs of rupees, and are levied on the Suraes, shops and gardens; a part is taken in kind, or grain and cattle; and from the total amount the prince pays fifty thousand rupees annually to the King of Persia.

The government of Heerat is in the hands of the Shahzadah Hadjee Fejroozoodeen Khan, third son of the late Tymoor Shah, and full brother to the present Muhmood Shah. He is about fifty years of age, appears to take little active participation in public affairs, but leaves every thing to Hadjee Aga Khan, his minister. In the present distracted state of Khorasan, he endeavours to remain neutral, without incur ring the displeasure of either of the contending parties. The prince has two wives, the one a Moghul lady, the other a daughter of Shakoor Khan Douranee, by each of whom he has two sons. Kasim Khan, the eldest, is a good looking young man, about twentytwo years of age. The reins of government