The latter was soon found--a flat-roofed mud hut about thirty feet square, devoid of chimney or furniture of any kind.

The floor, cracked in several places, was crawling with vermin, and the walls undermined with rat-holes; but in Persia one must not be particular.

Leaving our baggage in the care of one "Hassan," a bright-eyed, intelligent-looking lad, and instructing him to prepare a meal, we made for the bazaar, a hundred yards away, through a morass, knee deep in mud and abomination of all kinds, to procure food.
A row of thirty or forty mud huts composed the "bazaar," where, having succeeded in purchasing tea, bread, eggs, and caviar, we turned our attention to horseflesh.
An old Jew having previously agreed to convert, at exorbitant interest, our rouble notes into "sheis" and kerans, negotiations for horses were then opened by Gerome, and, as the _patois_ spoken in Astara is a mixture of Turkish and Persian, with a little Tartar thrown in, his task was no easy one, especially as every one spoke at once and at the top of their voices.

We discovered at last that but few of the villagers owned a horse, and those who did were very unwilling to let the animal for such an uncertain journey.

"Who is going to guarantee that the 'Farangis' will not steal it ?" asked one ragged, wild-looking fellow in sheepskins and a huge lamb's-wool cap.
"Or get it stolen from them ?" added another, with a grin.