A camel runs away and unseats his rider in deference to his timidity at my strange appearance as I bowl briskly across the Meshed plain at noon.  By one o’clock I am circling around the moat of the city, and by two am snugly ensconced in my old quarters, relating the adventures of the last five weeks to Gray, and receiving from him in exchange the latest scraps of European news.  I have made the one hundred and sixty miles from Karize in two days and a half—­not a bad showing with a bicycle that has been tinkered up by Herati gunsmiths.

Among other interesting items of news, it is learned that a hopeful Meshedi blacksmith has been inspired to try his “prentice hand” at making a bicycle.  One would like to have seen that bicycle, but somehow I didn’t get an opportunity.  Friendly telegrams reach me from Teheran, and also another order from the British Legation, instructing me not to attempt Afghanistan again.

Since my departure from Meshed, southward bound, another wandering
correspondent has invaded the Holy City.  Mr. E------, “special” of a
great London daily paper, whom I had the pleasure of meeting once or
twice in Teheran, has come eastward in an effort to enter Afghanistan. 
He has been halted by peremptory orders at Meshed.  Disgusted with his
ill-luck at not being permitted to carry out his plans, he is on the eve
of returning to Constantinople.  As I am heading for the same point
myself, we arrange to travel there in company.  Being somewhat under the
weather from a recent attack of fever, he has contracted for a Russian
fourgon to carry him as far as Shahrood, the farthest point on our route
to which vehicular conveyance is practicable.  Our purpose is to reach the
Caspian port of Bunder Guz, thence embark on a Russian steamer to Baku,
over the Caucasus Railway to Batoum, thence by Black Sea steamer to
Constantinople.

On the afternoon of May 18th, R------makes a start with
the fourgon.  It is a custom (unalterable as the laws of, etc.) with all
Persians starting on a journey of any length to go a short distance only
for the first stage.  The object of this is probably to find out by actual
experience on the road whether anything has been forgotten or overlooked,
before they get too far away to return and rectify the mistake. 
Semi-civilized peoples are wedded very strongly to the customs in vogue
among them, and the European traveller finds himself compelled, more or
less, to submit to them.  My intention is to overtake the fourgon the
following day at Shahriffabad.

Accordingly, soon after sunrise on the morrow, the road around the outer moat of Meshed is circled once again.  A middle-aged descendant of the Prophet, riding a graceful dapple-gray mare, spurs his steed into a swinging gallop for about five miles across the level plain in an effort to bear me company.  Three miles farther, and for miles over the steep and unridable gradients of the Shah-riffabad hills, I may anticipate the delights of having his horse’s nose at my shoulder, and my heels in constant jeopardy.  To avoid this, I spurt ahead, and ere long have the satisfaction of seeing him give it up.