THE MOST MISERABLE OF ALL CHRISTMAS DAYS--RACE BETWEEN WHEEL AND
SULTAN'S CAVALRYMEN--DESERTED BY A COWARDLY DRIVER.
We lingered three days at Kashan before the preliminary treatment of
my wife's feet permitted us to proceed. Here we spent our Christmas
Day, dejected and home-sick. In vain we searched the bazaars for
a turkey, goose, or duck for our Christmas dinner, but as if to
recompense us for our earnest efforts to celebrate, a ragged coolie
brought us a rabbit, and with turnips in lieu of sweet potatoes, we
endeavored to deceive ourselves into believing we had enjoyed a good
old-fashioned Southern feast. We left Kashan in the native "khagvar,"
two shallow boxes placed on a mule's back, the boxes laden equally
to balance the load on either side. We placed Mrs. McIlrath on one
side, her bicycle, luggage case and bedding in the opposite box, and
on Tuesday, Dec. 28, resumed our journey. The first night of our stop
on the way to Koom the owner of the khadgavar refused to continue on
the journey without an increase to the contract price for the rent of
his mule. Mrs. McIlrath's condition would not admit of a delay, and I
was compelled to resort to the extreme measures used in China in such
a case, and with success, for within ten minutes we were again on the
road. While stopping at a tea house for refreshments on Dec. 29, our
little caravan was overtaken by three of the Sultan's cavalrymen. They
were inclined to twit us on the effort required to propel bicycles,
and I challenged them for a race. Although Mrs. McIlrath required
my attention hourly, she entertains such contempt for those who
despise cycling, that it was at her request that I left her behind
to engage in the test of speed with the horse-soldiers. I left the
three troopers easily in the rear after their steeds had begun to
show signs of fatigue, never for an instant slackening my pace until
I flashed into a village eight miles from the starting point. I had
regained my composure, smoked several cigarettes and idled away half
an hour ere the horsemen appeared on the brow of a hill one mile
away. Though the riders were breathless, their horses reeking with
foam, when they halted in front of the tea house, not a look or a word
betrayed their chagrin, and they proffered tea and cigarettes with
good grace but with great dignity. Not satisfied with the one defeat,
the captain demanded that I overtake him ere the next stage. They had
a good half hour's start of me, because I waited for Mrs. McIlrath's
arrival. As soon as she assured me of her comfortable condition,
I sprang into saddle, and settled down into a gait which carried
me nine miles into an open valley, just in time to sight the three
horsemen and the city of Pasangoon in the distance. The horsemen must
have sighted me as soon as I did them, for when I next looked up the
trio had separated and were strung along the road in Indian file. I
strained every muscle to the utmost, but the up-grade, the load of
camera, revolvers, luggage case and monkey had been too great, and I
only succeeded in overtaking one of the trio. The other two had not
dismounted when I reached the Chapar Khaneh, and were loud in their
greeting and praise of the "asp-i-chubee," as they called the bicycle.
We were up before daybreak Dec. 30, dismayed to find the ground
covered with snow, and pushed into Koom by nightfall, just in
time to escape the most violent end of a storm, which delayed us
for two days. Proceeding by caravan was out of the question, and
as Koom afforded nothing in the medicine line, we were obliged to
make the remaining stage by "diligence" to Teheran. Though the trip
can be accomplished with ease in less than twenty-four hours, the
exorbitant sum of $26 was demanded for fare. The conveyance which
bears such a high-sounding name is simply a prairie schooner, hauled
by four horses ranged abreast. It is a "terror" as a conveyance, the
jolts and jars sending one high into the air, making conversation
impossible, while the rattle of the crazy vehicle is like that
of volleys of musketry. When we had accomplished about six miles
the driver deliberately guided the horses into a deep snow-drift,
informed us that progress was impossible, and threats, argument and
persuasion would not induce him to proceed. Finding he would not yield,
we became equally stubborn, and would not allow him to return, as he
proposed, until the next day, when he predicted the passage would
be more probable. Unfortunately Mrs. McIlrath and I were weary,
and while we slept the cowardly driver cut the horses and quietly
decamped. How long we should have remained in this predicament is
difficult to conjecture, had not a carriage arrived from the north,
containing as passengers Mr. J. P. Whiton Stuart, of New York, and his
secretary. Mr. Stuart at once volunteered to send for the horses which
had abandoned our vehicle, effect a change of driver and animals and
thus help us on our way. This was done, but not until the afternoon had
so far advanced that only one stage was accomplished in the entire day.
We passed a miserable night Jan. 2, 1898, in the stables of the Post
House in Hassinabad. Getting an early start we arrived at Kah-rizak,
twenty-six miles north, in the afternoon. It was then but a short
ride to the mosque and shrine called "Shah Abdullah Azim," where
we boarded a steam railway for Teheran, eight miles ahead. We were
then in the capital of Persia, snow-bound and unable to proceed,
even had weather permitted, on account of Mrs. McIlrath's feet,
but thankful, for Teheran afforded hospitals and surgeons, and best
of all, American ones.
The city of Teheran has been the imperial residence since Shah
Aga Mohammed Kahn, founder of the Khajar dynasty, which now reigns,
chose to elevate the insignificant village to a place of royal abode,
and bestowed upon it the titles, "City of the Shadow of God," and
"Footstool of the King of Kings." We visited the magnificent palace of
the reigning Shah, Muzaffaru-ud-din, and also made a tour to Dashen
Tappi, one of his favorite resorts. In this latter tour our party
consisted of Mr. Black, Mr. Morris and myself, three cyclists; two
horsemen, Messrs. Warner and DeMunk; and Misses DeMunk and Warner, and
Mrs. McIlrath, entrusted to the care of a Cossack, who drove a pair of
mules attached to a heavy Russian carriage. Owing to the condition of
Mrs. McIlrath's extremities we were unable to accept many invitations,
but despite the fact, we left Teheran greatly indebted to the members
of the European Colony there. When we departed on Feb. 25, it was by
the carriage, as cycling to Resht was entirely out of the question,
the roads being deep with snow and the passes in the mountains
ice-bound. There is little to write of the journey in Persia. Scenery
was either a vast plain, studded with sagebrush, or the panorama
was that of a barren, dull rock which had neither rugged beauty nor
picturesque formation. Three days of this monotonous travel brought us
to Kasbin, where we were delayed by more wretched weather until March
6. More snow fell directly we took to the road, our path often taking
us along the edge of a precipice the entire slope of which, above and
below us, was glaring ice. A slip or a false step meant certain death,
and each instant that an iron-shod hoof grated and crushed, we expected
to hear a wild shriek and the crash of a fatal fall. At one point on
the journey we passed a party of laborers at work rescuing from the
bottom of the gorge a horse and rider, both stiff in death. This was
but one of the many horrors on the road to Resht, which we reached on
March 13. The city affords two hotels, both conducted by Frenchmen,
and as we inquired for the best, we were directed to one designated as
the Hotel Europe. I would recommend any reader contemplating a trip to
Resht to apply for lodgings at the other hotel. Our knowledge of the
French language was limited, but though we had absorbed sufficient
to enable us to eat heartily and sleep soundly in French, we felt
certain of success at the Europe Hotel. The avaricious design of the
frowsy proprietor foiled us, however, and as his rates were $8 a day,
we made our stay in the city as short as possible.