Passing Dashti Arjin, or "The Plain of Wild Almonds," a kind of plateau to which the ascent is steep and difficult, one might have been in Switzerland or the Tyrol.
Undulating, densely wooded hills, with a background of steep limestone cliffs, their sharp peaks, just tipped with snow, standing out crisp and clear against the cloudless sky, formed a fitting frame to the lovely picture before us; the pretty village, trees blossoming on all sides, fresh green pastures overgrown in places by masses of fern and wild flowers, and the white foaming waterfall dashing down the side of the mountain, to lose itself in the blue waters of a huge lake just visible in the plains below.

The neighbourhood of the latter teems with game of all kinds--leopard, gazelle, and wild boar, partridge, duck, snipe, and quail, the latter in thousands.
A stiff climb of four hours over the Kotal Perizun brought us to the caravanserai of Meyun Kotal.

Over this pass, ten miles in length, there is no path; one must find one's way as best one can through the huge rocks and boulders.

Some of the latter were two to three feet in height.

How the mules managed will ever be a mystery to me.