My Thermometer Marked Only One Degree Above Zero
When We Retired To Rest, And The Wood Was Too Damp To Light A Fire.
But We Are In Persia!
It is only fair, however, to say that the road we were now travelling
is not the regular post-road, which lies some distance to the eastward
of Rabat Kerim, but was now impassable on account of the snow.
The smaller track joins the main road at Koom.
By taking the less
frequented track, we were unable to go through the "Malak al Niote,"
or "Valley of the Angel of Death," which lies about half-way between
the capital and Koom. The valley is so called from its desolate and
sterile appearance, though, if this be so, the greater part of Persia
might with reason bear the same name. Be this as it may, the Shagirds
and natives have the greatest objection to passing through it after
dark. A legend avers that it is haunted by monsters having the bodies
of men and heads of beasts and birds. Surrounded by these apparitions,
who lick his face and hands till he is unconscious, the traveller is
carried away - where, history does not state - never to return.
If the first day's work had been hard, it was child's play compared to
the second. The track, leading over a vast plain, had recently been
traversed by a number of camel caravans, which had transformed it into
a kind of Jacob's ladder formed by holes a couple of feet deep in the
snow.
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