'Through Persia on a side-saddle' [‎210] (245/360)

210 THROUGH PERSIA ON A SIDE-SADDLE
of a uniform preceded us, and cavalry and camelry fell in
behind, escorting us in style to our camp on the game-
haunted Bampur River, our tents being pitched near the
palm-leaf matting huts which sheltered our would-be
protectors. In lands where water is a rare commodity,
a real river has a charm quite indescribable, and we
hastened down to this one, getting lovely peeps of it
through the intervening tamarisks, and admiring the
many islets of grass and reeds scattered on its surface,
these giving it quite the aspect of ' ornamental water'
such as we see in great parks at home.
Bampur, the now deserted capital of Baluchistan, lay
some miles away from the river, and the old fort, perched
upon the summit of a great mound of earth, reminded me
somewhat of Mont St. Michel, as it loomed in a dusty
sk y> rising picturesquely from the surrounding wastes
of sand. However, the castellated mud towers, seen
nearer, dissipated the fancied resemblance, and we pitched
our tents under some of the few remaining date-palms
for which this fever-stricken place was once famous, near
squalid palm-leaf huts, the miserable inhabitants of which
were in sad contrast to the cheery, healthy Normans of
the Mont.
Many of the people here were of distinctly negroid
type, descended from the slaves settled in these parts,
and probably slaves themselves at the present day, the
dress of the women, who did not cover their faces, remind
ing me much of that of nuns as they glided about in
white robes, long black woollen veils being draped over
their heads. Pahra, or Faraj, the real capital, was fourteen
miles from Bampur, and it was a relief to leave the count
less flies which infested our camping ground at the latter