Cashan--Scorpions--Câshânee Youth--Village of Sinsin--Plundering Expeditions of the Tûrkûmâns--Account of that Tribe--Wandering Tribes--Visit to the Dwelling of Mihrâb Khan Afshâr--Account of his Family and Adherents--Anecdote of Kerreem Khan.
Cashan, to which we went from Nethenz, is situated on the verge of a desert, and no city can present a more uninviting aspect. We were, however, accommodated in the Bâgh-e-Fin, an excellent house and garden, through which there is a clear stream, which, while it refreshes the latter, gives an ample supply of water to the marble-baths belonging to the small but delightful royal residence.
"May you be stung by a scorpion of Cashan," is a common malediction in Persia; and all are agreed that this city is famous for producing the largest and most venomous species of this reptile. We were however assured, that, partaking of that spirit of hospitality which distinguishes the Persian nation, they never sting a stranger.
"This fact," said Agar Meer to me, "is asserted by Ameen Râzee, a respectable writer, and the author of a famous work called the Heft Akleem, or 'Seven Climates.'" "The same respectable writer," said Khan Sâhib, "compares the mud houses and narrow streets of Cashan, to the angelic cheeks of the resplendent Hoorees of Paradise, whose smiles are promised to the faithful. I could almost wish," he added, "to be stung by one of his scorpions, that my mind might be satisfied there was no truth in his comparison; otherwise my dreams of futurity will never be realised."
Agar Meer, who disliked wit when it ridiculed religion, gravely replied to this sally, "Ameen Râzee's facts may be correct, though his metaphors are extravagant." "That may be true," said my Hindustânnee friend, Mahomed Hoosein, "but, according to the fable of the scorpion and tortoise, the former has no power over his nature."
"I have read," said the good Moonshee, "that a tortoise and a scorpion travelled the same road for a considerable distance in good fellowship. The latter, on the ground of this new friendship, asked the former to carry him over a deep stream. The tortoise complied; but what was his surprise to find his companion endeavouring with all his might to sting him! When he had placed him safe on the opposite shore, he turned to him and said, 'Are not you the most wicked and ungrateful of reptiles? But for me you must either have given up your journey, or have been drowned in that stream, and what is my reward? If it had not been for the armour which God has given me, I should have been stung to death.' 'Blame me not,' said the scorpion, in a supplicatory tone, 'it is not my fault; it is that of my nature; it is a constitutional habit[89] I have of stinging!'" "Now," said Mahomed Hoosein, not wishing to offend his brother of the pen, "this fable certainly applies to scorpions in general; those of Cashan may be different: they may have that regard for strangers which Aga Meer has stated them to have, on the authority of Ameen Râzee." "It may be so,"[90] I remarked; and this phrase of doubtful assent put an end (as in Persia it is always meant to do) to all further discussion on the subject.