Persia, is a very creditable highway indeed.  At four farsakhs from Kasveen I reach the chapar-khana of Cawanda, where a breakfast is obtained of eggs and tea; these two things are among the most readily obtained refreshments in Persia.  The country this morning is monotonous and uninteresting, being for the most part a stony, level plain, sparsely covered with gray camel-thorn shrubs.  Occasionally one sees in the distance a camp of Eliauts, one of the wandering tribes of Persia; their tents are smaller and of an entirely different shape from the Koordish tents, partaking more of the nature of square-built movable huts than tents; these camps are too far off my road to justify paying them a visit, especially as I shall probably have abundant opportunities before leaving the Shah’s dominions; but I intercept a straggling party of them crossing the road.  They have a more docile look about them than the Koords, have more the general appearance of gypsies, and they dress but little different from the ryots of surrounding villages.

At Kishlock, where I obtain a dinner of bread and grapes, I find the cyclometre has registered a gain of thirty-two miles from Kasveen; it has scarcely been an easy thirty-two miles, for I am again confronted by a discouraging head breeze.  Keaching the Shah Abbas caravanserai of Yeng-Imam (all first-class caravanserais are called Shah Abbas caravanserais, in deference to so many having been built throughout Persia by that monarch) about five o’clock, I conclude to remain here over night, having wheeled fifty-three miles.  Yeng-Imam is a splendid large brick serai, the finest I have yet seen in Persia; many travellers are putting up here, and the place presents quite a lively appearance.  In the centre of the court-yard is a large covered spring; around this is a garden of rose-bushes, pomegranate trees, and flowers; surrounding the garden is a brick walk, and forming yet a larger square is the caravanserai building itself, consisting of a one-storied brick edifice, partitioned off into small rooms.  The building is only one room deep, and each room opens upon a sort of covered porch containing a fireplace where a fire can be made and provisions cooked.  Attached to the caravanserai, usually beneath the massive and roomy arched gateway, is a tchai-khan and a small store where bread, eggs, butter, fruit, charcoal, etc., are to be obtained.  The traveller hires a room which is destitute of all furniture; provides his own bedding and cooking utensils, purchases provisions and a sufficiency of charcoal, and proceeds to make himself comfortable.  On a pinch one can usually borrow a frying-pan or kettle of some kind, and in such first-class caravanserais as YengImam there is sometimes one furnished room, carpeted and provided with bedding”, reserved for the accommodation of travellers of importance.