CHAPTER VIII.

8th March.—Nasírabad to Banjár, six miles, and halt two days. After passing along the north face of the fort, our route went north-east across a jangal of tamarisk, more or less flooded by overflowings from a great canal, which we crossed twice by rustic bridges thrown across projecting piers formed of alternate layers of clay and fagots. The pools between which we picked our path were swarming with wild-fowl of all sorts. The ground of the road was so soft and deep in mud that it was impossible to get within range of them, and we thus lost several specimens that were quite unknown to us.

Beyond this strip of flooded jangal we turned eastward across an open plain towards Sir F. Goldsmid’s camp, pitched close to the south of the village of Banjár, and at half a mile or so from the tents were met by an isticbál sent out more Persico from the camp. It was headed by Major E. B. Smith (who came on yesterday from Nasírabad), preceded by two led horses, or yadak, and comprised the several members of Sir F. Goldsmid’s party, namely, Major Lovett, R.E., and Messrs Thomas, Bowyer, and Rozario, supported by a party of thirty or forty of the Mission servants mounted for the occasion. With them we proceeded to the camp, and, pending the arrival of our tents, alighted under the Union Jack flying from a movable flagstaff, guarded by a few Persian sentries, in front of the principal tent, where we were received by Sir F. Goldsmid.

Bordering the west of our camp is a great sheet of water, crowded with vast numbers of water-fowl of all sorts. It is formed by the overflow of a great canal that branches off from the Kohak Rúd, or Mádariáb (which we crossed at Kimak), and passing Banjár, goes on to Jalálabad, and irrigates the country north of the Atashgáh ridge near Kimak.

Due west of our camp, standing out very distinctly on the plain, at twenty miles off, is the Koh Khojah. It is an isolated black block with a flattened summit. Major Lovett, who has visited it, tells me it is about four hundred feet above the level of the plain, and of a hard crystalline black rock resembling basalt. The rock is divided into two main portions by a central gorge, and there are many ruins of mud and stone on its summit, and also a large reservoir excavated in the rock. The lower slopes are covered with banks of hard compact clay. Until four years ago this hill was surrounded by a reed-grown swamp of muddy and saline water, two or three feet deep, and was approached from the shore by passages cut through the reeds, either on foot or on the native tútín propelled by a pole. It now stands in the midst of a desiccated marsh many miles from the nearest water. This is owing to the droughts that have prevailed in this country during the past three or four years, and the consequent drying up of the marshes formed by the overflowings of the two lagoons formed by the commingling of the waters of the several rivers that converge to this point, as will be more fully described further on.

Koh Khojah is also called Kohi Zál or Zor and Kohi Rustam, and from ancient times has afforded an asylum for retreat to the princes of the country when pressed by an enemy. Malik Fata, Kayáni, when pressed by Nadír, is said to have abandoned his capital, Calá Fata, and to have taken refuge in this stronghold, where he held out seven years against his troops, who were ultimately obliged to retire through pressure of famine.

Banjár is a flourishing village of about four hundred houses. It originally belonged to the Kayáni tribe, but during the past half century has been in the possession of the Sárbandi, and now only contains four or five families of the original tribe. In the possession of one of these families, we were informed, there is a very ancient scroll or tumár, in a language not now known in the country. It is supposed to be a record of the ancient history of the people at the time when they were fire-worshippers. It is said to be held in great estimation, and is not to be purchased for gold; its existence indeed is denied by the reputed owners for fear of their being deprived of it, as they were of some valuable records in this unknown language by Prince Kamrán of Herat, when he invaded the country in the early part of the present century. He is said also to have carried off some illuminated tablets, and an ancient copy of the Curán and other Arabic manuscripts.

During our stay here the weather was more or less cloudy, and a strong north-west wind blew with unabated force. It is the most prevalent wind in this region, and during the hot season blows without intermission for four months, and is, from this circumstance, called bádi sado biat, or “wind of a hundred and twenty (days).” It usually commences about the nan roz, or vernal equinox, and continues to the end of the harvest, or about the 20th July. To the prevalence of this wind is attributed the absence of trees from the plain country, and this is easily understood, unless, as in the gardens about some of the villages, the trees be protected by walls or other means of shelter, for the violence of the wind is of itself sufficient to wither the blossoms and destroy fructification.