Although We Had Not As Yet Formed A Very Favourable Idea Of Baluch Hospitality, Our Reception At Every Village From Here To The Capital Amply Atoned For The Rough And Uncivil Behaviour Of The Wild Nushirvanis.

We were now once more on the beaten track, for though the country south of Gwarjak was, previous to our crossing it, unexplored, the journey from Kelat to Gajjar has frequently been made by Europeans during the past few years.

Our reception by the natives of Gajjar (only twenty miles from Gwarjak) was a pleasant contrast to that given us at the latter place. Camp was no sooner pitched than presents of eggs, milk, rice, and tobacco were brought in, and I was cordially welcomed by the chief of the village.

Gajjar is a ramshackle, tumble-down place of about three hundred inhabitants. On a small hillock to the right of the village stands the fort, a square building of solid masonry, which, however, is now roofless, and has only three walls standing. The garrison (of six men) were lodged in a flimsy tent pitched in the centre of the ruins. Half the houses were constructed of dried mud; the remainder, as at Gwarjak, of palm leaves. The village stands in a grove of date palms, and the swarms of flies were consequently almost unendurable. We encamped close to the village well, to which, during the afternoon, many of the female population came to draw water. Two of them, bright, pleasant-featured girls of eighteen or twenty, were the best-looking specimens of the Baluch woman that I met with throughout the journey.

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