Jerboa rats are very frequent, particularly in the south of Persia, while one very occasionally sees a “Gūr-ken,” or grave-digger (Meles canescens), and still seldomer the porcupine.
On the march antelope are frequently seen, and at times cross the road close to one. I have also twice seen wild asses in the distance, and moufflon in the hills. Sand-grouse (Bagh-a-ghulla)—so called from their cry, which it well expresses—ravens, hawks, eagles, owls, vultures, and fly-catchers innumerable—these latter sit in rows on the telegraph-wires, and are of gorgeous plumage—are often seen, and flocks of pigeons and partridges; while ducks, teal, widgeon, mallards, cranes, and herons, with single and double snipe, wild geese and cormorants abound near water, as do frogs, who generally announce its whereabouts at night. There is little enough to be seen in a march from Ispahan to Shiraz, and the greater part of the journey was done at night to avoid the heat.
Kūm-i-Shah, a large city, with many shrines and a great resort of pilgrims, is not seen much of by the tired traveller. Yezd-i-khast, or Yzed-khast, is elsewhere described by me, and Abadeh is little more than a large village; while Dehbeed, the coldest place in Persia, save in the high mountains, has merely a telegraph-office and post-house, the caravanserai being in ruins. Beyond this, one comes to Mūrghab and the tomb of Cyrus, of which the description by Ussher will be found when a march from Shiraz to Ispahan is given in detail. Then the Persepolis plain, with Persepolis (Takht-i-Jemshid) and Naksh-i-Rustam on the opposite side of the valley.
To those who desire to get a graphic and correct account of Persepolis, I would recommend Ussher’s ‘Journey from London to Persepolis,’ p. 533. All that can be said about it is said by him, and, being no archæologist, it would be impertinence were I to attempt a description. I have often passed it, and when marching have frequently visited it; but my curiosity was always exceeded by my anxiety to either reach Shiraz, or proceed on my journey to Ispahan. Accurate as he is, I regret to see that Ussher perpetuates the legends of the Meana bug, winding it up with the pathetic sentence, “All vital energy fading away from the emaciated frame, the victim perishes at the end, a prey to the fatal venom” (p. 654, ibid.).
CHAPTER XX.
SHIRAZ.
Entry into Shiraz—Gaiety of Shirazis of both sexes—Public promenade—Different from the rest of Persians—Shiraz wine—Early lamb—Weights: their variety—Steelyards—Local custom of weighing—Wetting grass—Game—Wild animals—Buildings—Ornamental brickwork—Orange-trees—Fruits in bazaar—Type of ancient Persian—Ladies’ dress—Fondness for music—Picnics—Warmth of climate—Diseases—The traveller Stanley—His magazine rifle and my landlord’s chimney—Cholera—Great mortality—We march out and camp—Mysterious occurrence—Life in a garden—The “Shitoor-gooloo”—Bear and dog fight—The bear is killed.
After a fifteen days’ march over desolate plains without any sign of vegetation save sparse gardens round some few of the villages and the green valley of Yezdicast (or Yzedcast as the natives call it), the view of Shiraz is certainly grand and pleasing. Suddenly, after a twenty-mile march from the last stage, the greater portion of which was between rocky hills with nothing to please the eye save a little turf and a few straggling trees around the tiny stream of beautifully cool water known throughout the east as the Ab-i-Rookhni, and alluded to by Moore as the “Rookhnabad,” the vast plain of Shiraz bursts upon one’s view with the garden-surrounded city at one’s feet.
Of course distance lends enchantment, and it looks so clean and so cool, particularly after fifteen days’ marching, that a strong contrast is presented to most Persian towns whose mud walls as a rule are seen from afar.