At Kelat, in the palace of the Khan, I was offered it pickled, but it is usually eaten stewed in butter.
About midday, to my great surprise, Malak made his appearance in person, mounted on a good-looking chestnut stallion, its bridle and saddle adorned with gold and silver trappings.

Four attendants followed on sorry-looking steeds.

The chief, a tall, well-built fellow, about thirty years of age, with a sulky, sinister cast of countenance, was clad in a bright green satin jacket, white and gold turban, loose dark-blue trousers, and embroidered slippers.

The loss of one eye gave him a still more unpleasant expression, a lock of coarse black hair being dragged over the face to conceal the disfigurement.

The whole party were armed to the teeth, and carried guns, shields, and revolvers.
Our interview did not commence propitiously.