the Shah’s chief object in building the anderoon so high was to have the certainty of this awful doom ever present before its numerous inmates, the more easily to keep them in a submissive frame of mind.  Off to the right, below our position, is the Doshan Tepe palace, a memorable spot for me, where I had the satisfaction of first introducing bicycle-riding to the notice of the Persian monarch.  Off to the left, the Parsee “tower of silence” is observed perched among the lonely gray hills far from human habitation or any traversed road; on a grating fixed in the top of this tower, the Guebre population of Teheran deposit their dead, in order that the carrion-crows and the vultures may pick the carcass clean before they deposit the whitened bones in the body of the tower.

Having duly investigated the bottle of wine and noticed these few familiar objects, we all remount and begin the descent.  It is a gentle declivity from top to bottom, and ridable the whole distance, save where an occasional washout or other small obstacle compels a dismount.  The wind is likewise favorable, and from the top of the pass the bicycle outdistances the horsemen, except two who are riding exceptionally good nags and make a special effort to keep up; and at two o’clock we arrive at Katoum-abad.  Katoum-abad consists of a small mud village and a half-ruined brick caravansarai; in one of the rooms of the latter we find “Hodge-podge” and Me-shedi Ali, with an abundance of roast chickens, cold mutton, eggs, and the before-mentioned mysterious black bottles.

The few Persian travellers in the caravansarai and the villagers come flocking around as usual to worry me about riding the bicycle, but the servants drive them away in short order.  “We want to see the sahib ride the aap-i-awhan,” they explain,-no doubt thinking their request most natural and reasonable.  “The sahib won’t let you see it, nor ride on it this evening,” reply the servants; and, given to understand that we won’t put up with their importunities, they worry us no more.  “Oh, that I could get rid of them thus readily always!” I mentally exclaim; for I feel instinctively that the farther east I get, the more wretchedly worrying and inquisitive I shall find the people.  We arrive hungry and thirsty, and in condition to do ample justice to the provisions at hand.  After satisfying the pressing needs of hunger, we drink several appropriate toasts from the contents of the mysterious black bottles—­toasts for the success of my journey, and to the bicycle that has stood by me so well thus far on my journey, and promises to stand by me equally as well for the future.