From the Indus to the Tigris

by H. W. Bellew

We arrived at Pul Zuháb, or Saribul, as it is also called, from the bridge here over the Alwand river, at 7.30 A.M., and finding the sarae occupied by a regiment of sarbáz, pitched our tents on the bank of the river below the bridge. The height of this place is 2220 feet above the sea, and 2992 below that of Karriud. The change in the temperature was as great at it was sudden. At two P.M. the thermometer rose to 102° Fah. in my tent, and placed in the rays of the sun, went up to 140° Fah. At midnight it fell to 60° Fah. in the open air. At Karriud the midday temperature was only 79° Fah., and in the early morning only 50° Fah., though the sun’s rays affected the mercury there as much as they did here, raising it to 134° Fah.

Soon after our arrival here I sent Shukrullah Beg with the passport received from the governor of Kirmánshah to the head man here, to arrange for an escort to proceed with my party in the morning. He returned an hour later saying the official here would have nothing to say to the passport, as it was addressed to the frontier officer at Zuháb, a town said to be two farsakhs distant in a north-west direction.

This was rather embarrassing intelligence, and I was in doubt as to what course I should adopt, when some further information elicited from Shukrullah Beg decided me in my line of action. He told me that the officer now in charge of the frontier at Zuháb, had only just been appointed by the Sháh’s government, in place of the local hereditary chief, who had been recently killed by the Khaleva (Arab) rebels, and that he was a Persian of Tehran. The commandant of the troops here was a brother of the murdered chief, and claimed to succeed him in the local government. But as he had been denied his right, he was not on good terms with the new incumbent, and would make a difficulty in carrying out any orders received from him, and that it was probable I might be detained here a week or more, till reference was made to Kirmánshah.

The very thought of this was more than I could bear. I therefore sent Shukrullah Beg to the commandant of the troops, who it seems was also governor of this place, with instructions to convey my compliments, and inform him that I was travelling on the service of Government, that it was important I should not be unnecessarily delayed, and that it was my intention to march towards Casri Shirin at sunset. After considerable delay, Shukrullah Beg returned, and reported that the commandant had received and understood my message, that he said he had received no authority to escort my party, and could not let me proceed, as the road ahead was altogether unsafe, and that he would call on me in the course of the afternoon to explain how matters stood.

Shortly before sunset a messenger came across the river to announce that the commandant, Murád Ali Khán, was coming over to see me. I said he was welcome, and meanwhile ordered some tea to be prepared, and arranged my camp-stools and boxes as seats. He dismounted at the bridge, and attended by four or five others, walked over to where I was seated in front of my tent. I rose and shook hands with him, and thanked him for taking the trouble to come over, and gave him a seat. He then introduced his brother, Karím Khán, commandant of the cavalry stationed here, and motioned him to a seat; the others stood at the edge of the carpet spread before us. A pause followed, and then we bowed at each other politely, expressing much, but saying nothing. He then looked round, and observed that we were a large party, and had a good deal of baggage. “Yes,” I said, “they are natives of India, and are returning to their country with me.” Another pause followed, and the tea opportunely came round to fill a threatening hiatus. I apologised for the absence of the calyán, as I had none with me, but offered a cheroot in its place, and set the example in its use. He lighted one and his brother another, and then we began to talk more at ease. I then said that my mirakhor Shukrullah Beg had led me to understand that there would be some little delay in getting an escort here, owing to an informality in the address of my passport, but that I was desirous of avoiding unnecessary delay, and purposed marching onwards this evening.

“Quite true,” he said, “the passport is not addressed to me, but as I have received a letter by express messenger from the Wakiluddaula at Kirmánshah, requesting me to further your progress, and as he is a personal friend of mine, I am ready to take you across to the Turkish frontier, and I will there ask you for a letter certifying to my having done so.”

“Certainly,” I said, “this is very good. Agha Hasan,” I added, “told me at Kirmánshah that he would write to you, and that I should be saved inconvenience thereby. Will the escort be ready to accompany me this evening? My camp is ready to march at an hour’s notice.”

“No,” he said, “you cannot move this evening. You require a strong escort, and it will not be ready till morning. I myself and Karím Khán will come over for you at daybreak, and we must march together with every precaution. There are four hundred rebel Khaleva (Arabs) on the road. They plundered yonder village,” pointing to a sacked and roofless hamlet a mile off, “only yesterday.”

“Thanks,” I said, rising; “I shall be ready for you at daybreak.”

I shook hands with each, and they both retired with their attendants. They are both fair men, with good honest features, of simple manners and plain outspoken speech. After they left, Shukrullah Beg told me that my determination to go on had alarmed the commandant, for he did not like to stop me, and could not let me proceed unprotected, as the road was really dangerous; but he doubted his promise to start in the morning.