As we rode to the latter through the semi-darkness caused by the shadow of the huge mass of boulders and mud on which the town is situated, the effect was extraordinary.
It was like a picture by Gustave Dore; and, looking up the dark perpendicular side of the rock at the weird city with its white houses, queer-shaped balconies, and striped awnings, standing out clear and distinct against the starlit sky, gave one an uncomfortable, uncanny feeling, hard to shake off, and heightened by the fact that, although the hour was yet early, not a light was visible, not a sound to be heard.

It was like a city of the dead.
[Illustration: YEZDI-GHAZT] Daylight does not improve the appearance of Yezdi-Ghazt.

The city, which looks so weird and romantic by moonlight, loses much of its beauty, though not its interest, when seen by the broad light of day.
The system of drainage in Yezdi-Ghazt is simple, the sewage being thrown over, to fall, haphazard, on the ground immediately below.

I nearly had a practical illustration during my examination, which, however, did not last long, for the side of the rock glistened with the filth of years, and the stench and flies were unbearable.
Early next morning I set out alone to explore the strange place, and with much difficulty and some apprehension--for I did not know how the natives were disposed--ascended a steep rocky path, at the summit of which a wooden drawbridge leads over a deep abyss to the gate of the city.

This bridge is the only access to Yezdi-Ghazt, which is, so to speak, a regular fortress-town.
The rock, about half a mile long, is intersected by one narrow street, which, covered from end to end with awnings and wooden beams, was almost in obscurity.