We finally cleared the valley by the pass of Gudook, which leads up to the table land of Persia. The word “Gudook,” in Toorkee, means a pass. Our ascent from the dell was continued and gradual; and at Feerozkoh we were again six thousand feet above the sea. On either side, as we approached the pass, the precipices rose in grand abruptness, and the narrowness of the road had led to its being fortified in former years. This is a scene of romance, and the strains of Furdoosee, the Persian Homer. The cave of the “Dev i sufued,” or white demon, was pointed out to us, as well as the spot where he was slain by the valiant Roostum. Some fellow travellers, whom we had picked up by the way, spouted verses from the Shahnamu, and I was more than once amused with their ruminations. They did not dream of the lively imagination of a national poet, but were regretting the degeneracy of the present age, which had no giants and Roostums, as in times that had gone. The top of the pass was very cold; and in winter this is said to prove sometimes fatal to the traveller. Shah Abbas has here erected a bath and a caravansary, but they are both in ruins.
Gudook the “Pylæ Caspiæ.”
It appears to me that the pass of Gudook may be identified with the “Pylæ Caspiæ,” or the Caspian gates, through which Alexander the Great pursued Darius. Their distance from Rhages or Rei, which lies near the modern city of Tehran, is said to have been a two days’ march, and the journey is ninety miles. I have before observed that this is the greatest of the passes into Mazenderan; and we have seen that it is hallowed by Persia’s greatest muse. By this road Alexander reached Hecatompylos, from which he advanced into Parthia. On the way he attacked the Taburi; and it is a very extraordinary fact, that, in the modern coinage of Mazenderan, that province is yet denominated Taburistan.
Feerozkoh.
From the pass of Gudook we journeyed in a cheerless valley pent in by bare hills; at the end of which stood the village of Feerozkoh, under a naked rock and fort about 300 feet high. This place put me in mind of Bameean, since many of the houses were excavated in the hills, where the inhabitants keep their flocks in winter. The climate is severe, and the snow lies for five months in the year. I observed a great change in the appearance of the inhabitants, who had now red and rosy cheeks. I know not whether our elevation from the lowlands of Mazenderan, might have an effect in the boiling of meat; but it took twice the usual time to cook my pilao at Feerozkoh; nay, the water was boiled up before the meat was ready. The flesh might have been tough, and an old sheep of the flock had, perhaps, fallen under the knife of the butcher.
Cure for the taste of quinine.
It is said that the natives of Mazenderan are the most simple of all the Persians, and we had some amusement at the expense of one of our fellow-travellers, who applied for medicine to arrest an intermittent fever. I gave him quinine, and afterwards took occasion to ask him how he liked its bitter taste. “It has no taste,” replied he; for he had swallowed it along with the paper in which it was packed up.
A Koord.
We made three marches to Tehran, a distance of ninety miles, halting by the way at the hovels of caravansarais, which the traveller finds in this part of Persia, where he alights in the same room with his horse. The country was arid, bleak, and miserable, and the number of villages most limited. We had no signs of approaching the metropolis of a country. An incident occurred near Baumein, the last stage, which should not be omitted: one of my “yaboos,” or ponies, had sunk under his load, and I went into a village to hire another; I succeeded in my suit, and paid the price of the animal to a Koord with whom I made the bargain, and was about to resume my journey:—“Will you not purchase my mule,” said he, “in exchange for your worn-out ‘yaboo,’ and give me the difference?” I entered into conversation, and found that the Koord took me for a native of Khorasan, and it was therefore useless to tell him I was an European. I certainly wished for his mule, and as I looked at it he said, with considerable solemnity,—“Now, as we are both good Mahommedans, let us conclude a bargain and not cheat each other.” I added, “Be it so,” and after a little conversation we settled all matters. His mule had, as I afterwards found, a broken back, and my yaboo had an incurable disease; but then it was as apparent to the Koord as it was to myself. Such was the settlement of a bargain between two good Mahommedans, who resolved to act fairly by each other; nor is Persia the only country where such arts are practised.